He felt at times impatient at his own weakness, and would endeavour to
brush away these cobwebs of the mind. He would turn his thoughts, with
sudden effort, to his occult studies, or occupy himself in some
perplexing process; but often, when he had partially succeeded in
fixing his attention, the sound of Inez's lute, or the soft notes of
her voice, would come stealing upon the stillness of the chamber, and,
as it were, floating round the tower. There was no great art in her
performance; but Antonio thought he had never heard music comparable
to this. It was perfect witchcraft to hear her warble forth some of
her national melodies; those little Spanish romances and Moorish
ballads, that transport the hearer, in idea, to the banks of the
Guadalquivir, or the walls of the Alhambra, and make him dream of
beauties, and balconies, and moonlight serenades.
Never was poor student more sadly beset than Antonio. Love is a
troublesome companion in a study, at the best of tunes; but in the
laboratory of an alchymist, his intrusion is terribly disastrous.
Instead of attending to the retorts and crucibles, and watching the
process of some experiment intrusted to his charge, the student would
get entranced in one of these love-dreams, from which he would often
be aroused by some fatal catastrophe.
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