‘I could not refrain from seeing the sun set on Arabia,’ he said; ‘I had almost induced the noble Besso to be my companion.’
‘The year is too old,’ said Eva, not very composed.
‘They should be midsummer nights,’ said Tancred, ‘as on my first visit here; that hour thrice blessed!’ ‘We know not what is blessed in this world,’ said Eva, mournfully.
‘I feel I do,’ murmured Tancred; and he also seated himself on the margin of the fountain.
‘Of all the strange incidents and feelings that we have been talking over this day,’ said Eva, ‘there seems to me but one result; and that is, sadness.’
‘It is certainly not joy,’ said Tancred.
‘There comes over me a great despondency,’ said Eva, ‘I know not why, my convictions are as profound as they were, my hopes should not be less high, and yet——’
‘And what?’ said Tancred, in a low, sweet voice, for she hesitated.
‘I have a vague impression,’ said Eva, sorrowfully, ‘that there have been heroic aspirations wasted, and noble energies thrown away; and yet, perhaps,’ she added, in a faltering tone, ‘there is no one to blame. Perhaps, all this time, we have been dreaming over an unattainable end, and the only source of deception is our own imagination.’
‘My faith is firm,’ said Tancred; ‘but if anything could make it falter, it would be to find you wavering.’