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Rappaccini's Daughter
Whatwouldyou?"criedarichandyouthfulvoicefromthewindowoftheoppositehouse—avoiceasrichasatropicalsunset,andwhichmadeGiovanni,thoughheknewnotwhy,thinkofdeephuesofpurpleorcrimsonandofperfumesheavilydelectable."Areyouinthegarden?"
"Yes,Beatrice,"answeredthegardener,"andIneedyourhelp."
Soonthereemergedfromunderasculpturedportalthefigureofayounggirl,arrayedwithasmuchrichnessoftasteasthemostsplendidoftheflowers,beautifulastheday,andwithabloomsodeepandvividthatoneshademorewouldhavebeentoomuch.Shelookedredundantwithlife,health,andenergy;allofwhichattributeswerebounddownandcompressed,asitwereandgirdledtensely,intheirluxuriance,byhervirginzone.YetGiovanni’sfancymusthavegrownmorbidwhilehelookeddownintothegarden;fortheimpressionwhichthefairstrangermadeuponhimwasasifherewereanotherflower,thehumansisterofthosevegetableones,asbeautifulasthey,morebeautifulthantherichestofthem,butstilltobetouchedonlywithaglove,nortobeapproachedwithoutamask.AsBeatricecamedownthegardenpath,itwasobservablethatshehandledandinhaledtheodorofseveraloftheplantswhichherfatherhadmostsedulouslyavoided.
"Here,Beatrice,"saidthelatter,"seehowmanyneedfulofficesrequiretobedonetoourchieftreasure.Yet,shatteredasIam,mylifemightpaythepenaltyofapproachingitsocloselyascircumstancesdemand.Henceforth,Ifear,thisplantmustbeconsignedtoyoursolecharge.
