The Marble Faun Volume 1 - Page 123/130

She turned from the young man, and, much as her heart yearned towards

him, she would not profane that heavy parting by an embrace, or even a

pressure of the hand. So soon after the semblance of such mighty love,

and after it had been the impulse to so terrible a deed, they parted,

in all outward show, as coldly as people part whose whole mutual

intercourse has been encircled within a single hour.

And Donatello, when Miriam had departed, stretched himself at full

length on the stone bench, and drew his hat over his eyes, as the idle

and light-hearted youths of dreamy Italy are accustomed to do, when they

lie down in the first convenient shade, and snatch a noonday slumber.

A stupor was upon him, which he mistook for such drowsiness as he had

known in his innocent past life. But, by and by, he raised himself

slowly and left the garden. Sometimes poor Donatello started, as if

he heard a shriek; sometimes he shrank back, as if a face, fearful to

behold, were thrust close to his own. In this dismal mood, bewildered

with the novelty of sin and grief, he had little left of that singular

resemblance, on account of which, and for their sport, his three friends

had fantastically recognized him as the veritable Faun of Praxiteles.