Her face
being now more revealed than on the former occasion, he was struck
by its expression of simplicity and sweetness; qualities that had
not entered into his idea of her character, and which made him ask
anew, what manner of mortal she might be. Nor did he fail again to
observe, or imagine, an analogy between the beautiful girl and the
gorgeous shrub that hung its gem-like flowers over the fountain; a
resemblance which Beatrice seemed to have indulged a fantastic humor
in heightening, both by the arrangement of her dress and the selection
of its hues.
Approaching the shrub, she threw open her arms, as with a
passionate ardor, and drew its branches into an intimate embrace; so
intimate, that her features were hidden in its leafy bosom, and her
glistening ringlets all intermingled with the flowers.
"Give me thy breath, my sister," exclaimed Beatrice; "for I am
faint with common air! And give me this flower of thine, which I
separate with gentlest fingers from the stem, and place it close
beside my heart."
With these words, the beautiful daughter of Rappaccini plucked
one of the richest blossoms of the shrub, and was about to fasten it
in her bosom.
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