CHAPTER 7.IX.
Think not my magic wonders wrought by aid Of Stygian angels summoned up from hell; Scorned and accursed be those who have essayed Her gloomy Dives and Afrites to compel.
But by perception of the secret powers Of mineral springs in Nature's inmost cell, Of herbs in curtain of her greenest bowers, And of the moving stars o'er mountain tops and towers.
Wiffen's "Translation of Tasso," cant.xiv.

xliii.
"You are safe here, young Englishman!" said Zanoni, motioning Glyndon to a seat.

"Fortunate for you that I come on your track at last!" "Far happier had it been if we had never met! Yet even in these last hours of my fate, I rejoice to look once more on the face of that ominous and mysterious being to whom I can ascribe all the sufferings I have known.

Here, then, thou shalt not palter with or elude me.

Here, before we part, thou shalt unravel to me the dark enigma, if not of thy life, of my own!" "Hast thou suffered?
Poor neophyte!" said Zanoni, pityingly.