Лучшие любовные истории / The Best Love Stories - стр. 5
“Will you make a fool of me?” cried Giovanni, passionately.
“I tell you, my poor Giovanni, that Rappaccini has a scientific interest in you. You have fallen into terrible hands! And the Signora Beatrice, – what part does she act in this mystery?”
But Guasconti, finding Baglioni intolerable, broke away, and was gone before the professor could again seize his arm. He looked after the young man and shook his head.
“This must not be,” said Baglioni to himself. “He is the son of my old friend, and must not suffer from any harm from which the medical science can preserve him. Besides, why should Rappaccini take the boy out of my own hands, as I may say, and use him for his experiments. This daughter of his! It shall be looked to![17]”
Giovanni, after a short walk, found himself at the door of his lodgings. As he crossed the threshold he was met by old Lisabetta, who smiled, and was evidently eager to attract his attention.
“Signor! signor!” whispered she. “Listen, signor! There is a private entrance into the garden!”
“What do you say?” exclaimed Giovanni, turning quickly about. “A private entrance into Dr. Rappaccini’s garden?”
“Hush! hush! not so loud!” whispered Lisabetta, putting her hand over his mouth. “Yes; into the doctor’s garden, where you may see all his fine plants. Many young men in Padua would give gold to be admitted among those flowers.”
Giovanni put a piece of gold into her hand.
“Show me the way,” said he.
His conversation with Baglioni made him think that this might be connected with the intrigue, in which Dr. Rappaccini was involving him. But such a suspicion, though it disturbed Giovanni, it did not stop him. The instant that he was aware of the possibility of approaching Beatrice, it seemed necessary to do so. It did not matter whether she were angel or demon; he was within her sphere; and yet, strange to say, there came across him a sudden doubt whether this intense interest was really so deep and positive; whether it was not the fantasy of a young man.
He paused, hesitated, but again went on. His guide led him to a door, through which, as it was opened, he saw leaves, and sunshine glimmering among them. Giovanni stepped and stood beneath his own window in Dr. Rappaccini’s garden.
He looked around the garden to discover if Beatrice or her father were present, and, seeing that he was alone, began a critical observation of the plants.
The look of them dissatisfied him; their gorgeousness seemed fierce, passionate, and even unnatural. Several also might shock one by an artificial appearance indicating that there had been a mixture of various vegetable species, that the production was no longer of God’s making, but of man’s fancy. They were probably the result of experiment. Giovanni recognized two or three plants that he knew to be poisonous. While busy with these thoughts he heard the rustling of a silk dress and, turning, saw Beatrice emerging from beneath the portal.
She came along the path and met him near the broken fountain. There was surprise in her face, but also a simple and kind expression of pleasure.
“You are a connoisseur in flowers, signor,” said Beatrice, with a smile, meaning the bouquet which he had thrown her from the window. “It is no marvel, therefore, if you have come to take a nearer view of my father’s rare collection. If he were here, he could tell you many strange and interesting facts as to the nature and habits of these shrubs; for he has spent a lifetime in such studies, and this garden is his world.”