CHAPTER 6.VII.
Des Erdenlebens Schweres Traumbild sinkt, und sinkt, und sinkt.
"Das Ideal und das Lebens." (The Dream Shape of the heavy earthly life sinks, and sinks, and sinks.) She stood within the chamber, and gazed around her; no signs by which an inquisitor of old could have detected the scholar of the Black Art were visible.

No crucibles and caldrons, no brass-bound volumes and ciphered girdles, no skulls and cross-bones.

Quietly streamed the broad moonlight through the desolate chamber with its bare, white walls.

A few bunches of withered herbs, a few antique vessels of bronze, placed carelessly on a wooden form, were all which that curious gaze could identify with the pursuits of the absent owner.

The magic, if it existed, dwelt in the artificer, and the materials, to other hands, were but herbs and bronze.
So is it ever with thy works and wonders, O Genius,--Seeker of the Stars! Words themselves are the common property of all men; yet, from words themselves, Thou Architect of Immortalities, pilest up temples that shall outlive the Pyramids, and the very leaf of the Papyrus becomes a Shinar, stately with towers, round which the Deluge of Ages, shall roar in vain! But in that solitude has the Presence that there had invoked its wonders left no enchantment of its own?
It seemed so; for as Viola stood in the chamber, she became sensible that some mysterious change was at work within herself.