His mind was
harassed with uncertainties and fears about his daughter, so helpless
and inexperienced. He endeavoured to gather tidings of her from the
man who brought his daily portion of food. The fellow stared, as if
astonished at being asked a question in that mansion of silence and
mystery, but departed without saying a word. Every succeeding attempt
was equally fruitless.
The poor alchymist was oppressed by many griefs; and it was not the
least, that he had been again interrupted in his labours on the very
point of success. Never was alchymist so near attaining the golden
secret--a little longer, and all his hopes would have been realized.
The thoughts of these disappointments afflicted him more even than the
fear of all that he might suffer from the merciless inquisition. His
waking thoughts would follow him into his dreams. He would be
transported in fancy to his laboratory, busied again among retorts and
alembics, and surrounded by Lully, by D'Abano, by Olybius, and the
other masters of the sublime art. The moment of projection would
arrive; a seraphic form would rise out of the furnace, holding forth a
vessel containing the precious elixir; but, before he could grasp the
prize, he would awake, and find himself in a dungeon.
Pages:
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254