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第8章

the lily of the valley-第8章

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cold; severe glance; under which my own eyelids fell; as much from a

sense of humiliation as to hide the tears that rose beneath them。 She

saw the moisture on my forehead; and perhaps she guessed the tears;

for she offered me the restoratives I needed; with a few kind and

consoling words; which gave me back the power of speech。 I blushed

like a young girl; and in a voice as tremulous as that of an old man I

thanked her and declined。



〃All I ask;〃 I said; raising my eyes to hers; which mine now met for

the second time in a glance as rapid as lightning;〃is to rest here。

I am so crippled with fatigue I really cannot walk farther。〃



〃You must not doubt the hospitality of our beautiful Touraine;〃 she

said; then; turning to my companion; she added: 〃You will give us the

pleasure of your dining at Clochegourde?〃



I threw such a look of entreaty at Monsieur de Chessel that he began

the preliminaries of accepting the invitation; though it was given in

a manner that seemed to expect a refusal。 As a man of the world; he

recognized these shades of meaning; but I; a young man without

experience; believed so implicitly in the sincerity between word and

thought of this beautiful woman that I was wholly astonished when my

host said to me; after we reached home that evening; 〃I stayed because

I saw you were dying to do so; but if you do not succeed in making it

all right; I may find myself on bad terms with my neighbors。〃 That

expression; 〃if you do not make it all right;〃 made me ponder the

matter deeply。 In other words; if I pleased Madame de Mortsauf; she

would not be displeased with the man who introduced me to her。 He

evidently thought I had the power to please her; this in itself gave

me that power; and corroborated my inward hope at a moment when it

needed some outward succor。



〃I am afraid it will be difficult;〃 he began; 〃Madame de Chessel

expects us。〃



〃She has you every day;〃 replied the countess; 〃besides; we can send

her word。 Is she alone?〃



〃No; the Abbe de Quelus is there。〃



〃Well; then;〃 she said; rising to ring the bell; 〃you really must dine

with us。〃



This time Monsieur de Chessel thought her in earnest; and gave me a

congratulatory look。 As soon as I was sure of passing a whole evening

under that roof I seemed to have eternity before me。 For many

miserable beings to…morrow is a word without meaning; and I was of the

number who had no faith in it; when I was certain of a few hours of

happiness I made them contain a whole lifetime of delight。



Madame de Mortsauf talked about local affairs; the harvest; the

vintage; and other matters to which I was a total stranger。 This

usually argues either a want of breeding or great contempt for the

stranger present who is thus shut out from the conversation; but in

this case it was embarrassment。 Though at first I thought she treated

me as a child and I envied the man of thirty to whom she talked of

serious matters which I could not comprehend; I came; a few months

later; to understand how significant a woman's silence often is; and

how many thoughts a voluble conversation masks。 At first I attempted

to be at my ease and take part in it; then I perceived the advantages

of my situation and gave myself up to the charm of listening to Madame

de Mortsauf's voice。 The breath of her soul rose and fell among the

syllables as sound is divided by the notes of a flute; it died away to

the ear as it quickened the pulsation of the blood。 Her way of

uttering the terminations in 〃i〃 was like a bird's song; the 〃ch〃 as

she said it was a kiss; but the 〃t's〃 were an echo of her heart's

despotism。 She thus extended; without herself knowing that she did so;

the meaning of her words; leading the soul of the listener into

regions above this earth。 Many a time I have continued a discussion I

could easily have ended; many a time I have allowed myself to be

unjustly scolded that I might listen to those harmonies of the human

voice; that I might breathe the air of her soul as it left her lips;

and strain to my soul that spoken light as I would fain have strained

the speaker to my breast。 A swallow's song of joy it was when she was

gay!but when she spoke of her griefs; a swan's voice calling to its

mates!



Madame de Mortsauf's inattention to my presence enabled me to examine

her。 My eyes rejoiced as they glided over the sweet speaker; they

kissed her feet; they clasped her waist; they played with the ringlets

of her hair。 And yet I was a prey to terror; as all who; once in their

lives; have experienced the illimitable joys of a true passion will

understand。 I feared she would detect me if I let my eyes rest upon

the shoulder I had kissed; and the fear sharpened the temptation。 I

yielded; I looked; my eyes tore away the covering; I saw the mole

which lay where the pretty line between the shoulders started; and

which; ever since the ball; had sparkled in that twilight which seems

the region of the sleep of youths whose imagination is ardent and

whose life is chaste。



I can sketch for you the leading features which all eyes saw in Madame

de Mortsauf; but no drawing; however correct; no color; however warm;

can represent her to you。 Her face was of those that require the

unattainable artist; whose hand can paint the reflection of inward

fires and render that luminous vapor which defies science and is not

revealable by languagebut which a lover sees。 Her soft; fair hair

often caused her much suffering; no doubt through sudden rushes of

blood to the head。 Her brow; round and prominent like that of Joconda;

teemed with unuttered thoughts; restrained feelingsflowers drowning

in bitter waters。 The eyes; of a green tinge flecked with brown; were

always wan; but if her children were in question; or if some keen

condition of joy or suffering (rare in the lives of all resigned

women) seized her; those eyes sent forth a subtile gleam as if from

fires that were consuming her;the gleam that wrung the tears from

mine when she covered me with her contempt; and which sufficed to

lower the boldest eyelid。 A Grecian nose; designed it might be by

Phidias; and united by its double arch to lips that were gracefully

curved; spiritualized the face; which was oval with a skin of the

texture of a white camellia colored with soft rose…tints upon the

cheeks。 Her plumpness did not detract from the grace of her figure nor

from the rounded outlines which made her shape beautiful though well

developed。 You will understand the character of this perfection when I

say that where the dazzling treasures which had so fascinated me

joined the arm there was no crease or wrinkle。 No hollow disfigured

the base of her head; like those which make the necks of some women

resemble trunks of trees; her muscles were not harshly defined; and

everywhere the lines were rounded into curves as fugitive to the eye

as to the pencil。 A soft down faintly showed upon her cheeks and on

the outline of her throat; catching the light which made it silken。

Her little ears; perfect in shape; were; as she said herself; the ears

of a mother and a slave。 In after days; when our hearts were one; she

would say to me; 〃Here comes Monsieur de Mortsauf〃; and she was right;

though I; whose hearing is remarkably acute; could hear nothing。



Her arms were beautiful。 The curved fingers of the hand were long; and

the flesh projected at the side beyond the finger…nails; like those of

antique statues。 I should displease you; I know; if you were not

yourself an exception to my rule; when I say that flat waists should

have the preference over round ones。 The round waist is a sign of

strength; but women thus formed are imperious; self…willed; and more

voluptuous than tender。 On the other hand; women with flat waists are

devoted in soul; delicately perceptive; inclined to sadness; more

truly woman than the other class。 The flat waist is supple and

yielding; the round waist is inflexible and jealous。



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