France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
delicate as that of a woman, gave evidence of one of those natures which
are feeble apparently, but whose strength equals their will, rendering
them at times powerful. Of medium height, Seraphitus appeared to grow in
stature as he turned fully round and seemed about to spring upward. His
hair, curled by a fairy’s hand and waving to the breeze, increased
the illusion produced by this aerial attitude; yet his bearing, wholly
without conscious effort, was the result far more of a moral phenomenon
than of a corporal habit.
Minna’s imagination seconded this illusion, under the dominion of which
all persons would assuredly have fallen,--an illusion which gave to
Seraphitus the appearance of a vision dreamed of in happy sleep. No
known type conveys an image of that form so majestically made to Minna,
but which to the eyes of a man would have eclipsed in womanly grace the
fairest of Raphael’s creations. That painter of heaven has ever put
a tranquil joy, a loving sweetness, into the lines of his angelic
conceptions; but what soul, unless it contemplated Seraphitus himself,
could have conceived the ineffable emotions imprinted on his face? Who
would have divined, even in the dreams of artists, where all things
become possible, the shadow cast by some mysterious awe upon that brow,
shining with intellect, which seemed to question Heaven and to pity
Earth? The head hovered awhile disdainfully, as some majestic bird whose
cries reverberate on the atmosphere, then bowed itself resignedly, like
the turtledove uttering soft notes of tenderness in the depths of the
silent woods. His complexion was of marvellous whiteness, which brought
out vividly the coral lips, the brown eyebrows, and the silken lashes,
the only colors that trenched upon the paleness of that face, whose
perfect regularity did not detract from the grandeur of the sentiments
expressed in it; nay, thought and emotion were reflected there, without
hindrance or violence, with the majestic and natural gravity which we
delight in attributing to superior beings. That face of purest marble
expressed in all things strength and peace.
Minna rose to take the hand of Seraphitus, hoping thus to draw him to
her, and to lay on that seductive brow a kiss given more from admiration
than from love; but a glance at the young man’s eyes, which pierced her
as a ray of sunlight penetrates a prism, paralyzed the young girl. She
felt, but without comprehending, a gulf between them; then she turned
away her head and wept. Suddenly a strong hand seized her by the waist,
and a soft voice said to her: “Come!” She obeyed, resting her head,
suddenly revived, upon the heart of her companion, who, regulating his
step to hers with gentle and attentive conformity, led her to a spot
whence they could see the radiant glories of the polar Nature.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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