"I never remember," writes the duc, "to have felt my spirits so excited
as on that evening; we were like so many boys released from school,
jostling each other as we reeled or ran down the flight of seven
or eight stairs that led from the colonnade into the garden,--some
laughing, some whooping, some scolding, some babbling. The wine had
brought out, as it were, each man's inmost character. Some were loud and
quarrelsome, others sentimental and whining; some, whom we had hitherto
thought dull, most mirthful; some, whom we had ever regarded as discreet
and taciturn, most garrulous and uproarious. I remember that in the
midst of our clamorous gayety, my eye fell upon the cavalier Signor
Zanoni, whose conversation had so enchanted us all; and I felt a
certain chill come over me to perceive that he wore the same calm and
unsympathising smile upon his countenance which had characterised it
in his singular and curious stories of the court of Louis XIV. I felt,
indeed, half-inclined to seek a quarrel with one whose composure
was almost an insult to our disorder. Nor was such an effect of this
irritating and mocking tranquillity confined to myself alone. Several of
the party have told me since, that on looking at Zanoni they felt their
blood yet more heated, and gayety change to resentment. There seemed in
his icy smile a very charm to wound vanity and provoke rage. It was at
this moment that the prince came up to me, and, passing his arm into
mine, led me a little apart from the rest. He had certainly indulged in
the same excess as ourselves, but it did not produce the same effect of
noisy excitement. There was, on the contrary, a certain cold arrogance
and supercilious scorn in his bearing and language, which, even while
affecting so much caressing courtesy towards me, roused my self-love
against him. He seemed as if Zanoni had infected him; and in imitating
the manner of his guest, he surpassed the original. He rallied me on
some court gossip, which had honoured my name by associating it with a