the lily of the valley-第61章
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will use the sand and write a word with the point of her little foot;
her love will find expression even in sleep; in short; she bends the
world to her love。 The Englishwoman; on the contrary; makes her love
bend to the world。 Educated to maintain the icy manners; the Britannic
and egotistic deportment which I described to you; she opens and shuts
her heart with the ease of a British mechanism。 She possesses an
impenetrable mask; which she puts on or takes off phlegmatically。
Passionate as an Italian when no eye sees her; she becomes coldly
dignified before the world。 A lover may well doubt his empire when he
sees the immobility of face; the aloofness of countenance; and hears
the calm voice; with which an Englishwoman leaves her boudoir。
Hypocrisy then becomes indifference; she has forgotten all。
Certainly the woman who can lay aside her love like a garment may be
thought to be capable of changing it。 What tempests arise in the heart
of a man; stirred by wounded self…love; when he sees a woman taking
and dropping and again picking up her love like a piece of embroidery。
These women are too completely mistresses of themselves ever to belong
wholly to you; they are too much under the influence of society ever
to let you reign supreme。 Where a Frenchwoman comforts by a look; or
betrays her impatience with visitors by witty jests; an Englishwoman's
silence is absolute; it irritates the soul and frets the mind。 These
women are so constantly; and; under all circumstances; on their
dignity; that to most of them fashion reigns omnipotent even over
their pleasures。 An Englishwoman forces everything into form; though
in her case the love of form does not produce the sentiment of art。 No
matter what may be said against it; Protestantism and Catholicism
explain the differences which make the love of Frenchwomen so far
superior to the calculating; reasoning love of Englishwomen。
Protestantism doubts; searches; and kills belief; it is the death of
art and love。 Where worldliness is all in all; worldly people must
needs obey; but passionate hearts flee from it; to them its laws are
insupportable。
You can now understand what a shock my self…love received when I found
that Lady Dudley could not live without the world; and that the
English system of two lives was familiar to her。 It was no sacrifice
she felt called upon to make; on the contrary she fell naturally into
two forms of life that were inimical to each other。 When she loved she
loved madly;no woman of any country could be compared to her; but
when the curtain fell upon that fairy scene she banished even the
memory of it。 In public she never answered to a look or a smile; she
was neither mistress nor slave; she was like an ambassadress; obliged
to round her phrases and her elbows; she irritated me by her
composure; and outraged my heart with her decorum。 Thus she degraded
love to a mere need; instead of raising it to an ideal through
enthusiasm。 She expressed neither fear; nor regrets; nor desire; but
at a given hour her tenderness reappeared like a fire suddenly
lighted。
In which of these two women ought I to believe? I felt; as it were by
a thousand pin…pricks; the infinite differences between Henriette and
Arabella。 When Madame de Mortsauf left me for a while she seemed to
leave to the air the duty of reminding me of her; the folds of her
gown as she went away spoke to the eye; as their undulating sound to
the ear when she returned; infinite tenderness was in the way she
lowered her eyelids and looked on the ground; her voice; that musical
voice; was a continual caress; her words expressed a constant thought;
she was always like unto herself; she did not halve her soul to suit
two atmospheres; one ardent; the other icy。 In short; Madame de
Mortsauf reserved her mind and the flower of her thought to express
her feelings; she was coquettish in ideas with her children and with
me。 But Arabella's mind was never used to make life pleasant; it was
never used at all for my benefit; it existed only for the world and by
the world; and it was spent in sarcasm。 She loved to rend; to bite; as
it were;not for amusement but to satisfy a craving。 Madame de
Mortsauf would have hidden her happiness from every eye; Lady Dudley
chose to exhibit hers to all Paris; and yet with her impenetrable
English mask she kept within conventions even while parading in the
Bois with me。 This mixture of ostentation and dignity; love and
coldness; wounded me constantly; for my soul was both virgin and
passionate; and as I could not pass from one temperature to the other;
my temper suffered。 When I complained (never without precaution); she
turned her tongue with its triple sting against me; mingling boasts of
her love with those cutting English sarcasms。 As soon as she found
herself in opposition to me; she made it an amusement to hurt my
feelings and humiliate my mind; she kneaded me like dough。 To any
remark of mine as to keeping a medium in all things; she replied by
caricaturing my ideas and exaggerating them。 When I reproached her for
her manner to me; she asked if I wished her to kiss me at the opera
before all Paris; and she said it so seriously that I; knowing her
desire to make people talk; trembled lest she should execute her
threat。 In spite of her real passion she was never meditative; self…
contained; or reverent; like Henriette; on the contrary she was
insatiable as a sandy soil。 Madame de Mortsauf was always composed;
able to feel my soul in an accent or a glance。 Lady Dudley was never
affected by a look; or a pressure of the hand; nor yet by a tender
word。 No proof of love surprised her。 She felt so strong a necessity
for excitement; noise; celebrity; that nothing attained to her ideal
in this respect; hence her violent love; her exaggerated fancy;
everything concerned herself and not me。
The letter you have read from Madame de Mortsauf (a light which still
shone brightly on my life); a proof of how the most virtuous of women
obeyed the genius of a Frenchwoman; revealing; as it did; her
perpetual vigilance; her sound understanding of all my prospectsthat
letter must have made you see with what care Henriette had studied my
material interests; my political relations; my moral conquests; and
with what ardor she took hold of my life in all permissible
directions。 On such points as these Lady Dudley affected the reticence
of a mere acquaintance。 She never informed herself about my affairs;
nor of my likings or dislikings as a man。 Prodigal for herself without
being generous; she separated too decidedly self…interest and love。
Whereas I knew very well; without proving it; that to save me a pang
Henriette would have sought for me that which she would never seek for
herself。 In any great and overwhelming misfortune I should have gone
for counsel to Henriette; but I would have let myself be dragged to
prison sooner than say a word to Lady Dudley。
Up to this point the contrast relates to feelings; but it was the same
in outward things。 In France; luxury is the expression of the man; the
reproduction of his ideas; of his personal poetry; it portrays the
character; and gives; between lovers; a precious value to every little
attention by keeping before them the dominant thought of the being
loved。 But English luxury; which at first allured me by its choiceness
and delicacy; proved to be mechanical also。 The thousand and one
attentions shown me at Clochegourde Arabella would have considered the
business of servants; each one had his own duty and speciality。 The
choice of the footman was the business of her butler; as if it were a
matter of horses。 She never attached herself to her servants; the
death of the best of them would not have affected her; for money could
replace the one lost by another equally efficient。 As to her duty
towards her neighbor; I never saw a tear in her eye for the
misfortunes of another; in fact her selfishness was so naively ca