the lily of the valley(幽谷百合)-第17章

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tears　that　came　into　my　eyes。

〃I　ought　to　be　so；　I　am　more　feeble；〃　she　replied。

〃But；〃　I　continued　with　the　persistence　of　a　child；　〃listen　to　me　now
if　only　for　the　first；　the　last；　the　only　time　in　your　life。〃

〃Speak；　then；〃　she　said；　〃speak；　or　you　will　think　I　dare　not　hear
you。〃

Feeling　that　this　was　the　turning　moment　of　our　lives；　I　spoke　to　her
in　the　tone　that　commands　attention；　I　told　her　that　all　women　whom　I
had　ever　seen　were　nothing　to　me；　but　when　I　met　her；　I；　whose　life
was　studious；　whose　nature　was　not　bold；　I　had　been；　as　it　were；
possessed　by　a　frenzy　that　no　one　who　once　felt　it　could　condemn；　that
never　heart　of　man　had　been　so　filled　with　the　passion　which　no　being
can　resist；　which　conquers　all　things；　even　death

〃And　contempt？〃　she　asked；　stopping　me。

〃Did　you　despise　me？〃　I　exclaimed。

〃Let　us　say　no　more　on　this　subject；〃　she　replied。

〃No；　let　me　say　all！〃　I　replied；　in　the　excitement　of　my　intolerable
pain。　〃It　concerns　my　life；　my　whole　being；　my　inward　self；　it
contains　a　secret　you　must　know　or　I　must　die　in　despair。　It　also
concerns　you；　who；　unawares；　are　the　lady　in　whose　hand　is　the　crown
promised　to　the　victor　in　the　tournament！〃

Then　I　related　to　her　my　childhood　and　youth；　not　as　I　have　told　it　to
you；　judged　from　a　distance；　but　in　the　language　of　a　young　man　whose
wounds　are　still　bleeding。　My　voice　was　like　the　axe　of　a　woodsman　in
the　forest。　At　every　word　the　dead　years　fell　with　echoing　sound；
bristling　with　their　anguish　like　branches　robbed　of　their　foliage。　I
described　to　her　in　feverish　language　many　cruel　details　which　I　have
here　spared　you。　I　spread　before　her　the　treasure　of　my　radiant　hopes；
the　virgin　gold　of　my　desires；　the　whole　of　a　burning　heart　kept　alive
beneath　the　snow　of　these　Alps；　piled　higher　and　higher　by　perpetual
winter。　When；　bowed　down　by　the　weight　of　these　remembered　sufferings；
related　as　with　the　live　coal　of　Isaiah；　I　awaited　the　reply　of　the
woman　who　listened　with　a　bowed　head；　she　illumined　the　darkness　with
a　look；　she　quickened　the　worlds　terrestrial　and　divine　with　a　single
sentence。

〃We　have　had　the　same　childhood！〃　she　said；　turning　to　me　a　face　on
which　the　halo　of　the　martyrs　shone。

After　a　pause；　in　which　our　souls　were　wedded　in　the　one　consoling
thought；　〃I　am　not　alone　in　suffering；〃　the　countess　told　me；　in　the
voice　she　kept　for　her　little　ones；　how　unwelcome　she　was　as　a　girl
when　sons　were　wanted。　She　showed　me　how　her　troubles　as　a　daughter
bound　to　her　mother's　side　differed　from　those　of　a　boy　cast　out　upon
the　world　of　school　and　college　life。　My　desolate　neglect　seemed　to　me
a　paradise　compared　to　that　contact　with　a　millstone　under　which　her
soul　was　ground　until　the　day　when　her　good　aunt；　her　true　mother；　had
saved　her　from　this　misery；　the　ever…recurring　pain　of　which　she　now
related　to　me；　misery　caused　sometimes　by　incessant　faultfinding；
always　intolerable　to　high…strung　natures　which　do　not　shrink　before
death　itself　but　die　beneath　the　sword　of　Damocles；　sometimes　by　the
crushing　of　generous　impulses　beneath　an　icy　hand；　by　the　cold
rebuffal　of　her　kisses；　by　a　stern　command　of　silence；　first　imposed
and　then　as　often　blamed；　by　inward　tears　that　dared　not　flow　but
stayed　within　the　heart；　in　short；　by　all　the　bitterness　and　tyranny
of　convent　rule；　hidden　to　the　eyes　of　the　world　under　the　appearance
of　an　exalted　motherly　devotion。　She　gratified　her　mother's　vanity
before　strangers；　but　she　dearly　paid　in　private　for　this　homage。
When；　believing　that　by　obedience　and　gentleness　she　had　softened　her
mother's　heart；　she　opened　hers；　the　tyrant　only　armed　herself　with
the　girl's　confidence。　No　spy　was　ever　more　traitorous　and　base。　All
the　pleasures　of　girlhood；　even　her　fete　days；　were　dearly　purchased；
for　she　was　scolded　for　her　gaiety　as　much　as　for　her　faults。　No
teaching　and　no　training　for　her　position　had　been　given　in　love；
always　with　sarcastic　irony。　She　was　not　angry　against　her　mother；　in
fact　she　blamed　herself　for　feeling　more　terror　than　love　for　her。
〃Perhaps；〃　she　said；　dear　angel；　〃these　severities　were　needful；　they
had　certainly　prepared　her　for　her　present　life。〃　As　I　listened　it
seemed　to　me　that　the　harp　of　Job；　from　which　I　had　drawn　such　savage
sounds；　now　touched　by　the　Christian　fingers　gave　forth　the　litanies
of　the　Virgin　at　the　foot　of　the　cross。

〃We　lived　in　the　same　sphere　before　we　met　in　this；〃　I　said；　〃you
coming　from　the　east；　I　from　the　west。〃

She　shook　her　head　with　a　gesture　of　despair。

〃To　you　the　east；　to　me　the　west；〃　she　replied。　〃You　will　live　happy；
I　must　die　of　pain。　Life　is　what　we　make　of　it；　and　mine　is　made
forever。　No　power　can　break　the　heavy　chain　to　which　a　woman　is
fastened　by　this　ring　of　goldthe　emblem　of　a　wife's　purity。〃

We　knew　we　were　twins　of　one　womb；　she　never　dreamed　of　a　half…
confidence　between　brothers　of　the　same　blood。　After　a　short　sigh；
natural　to　pure　hearts　when　they　first　open　to　each　other；　she　told　me
of　her　first　married　life；　her　deceptions　and　disillusions；　the
rebirth　of　her　childhood's　misery。　Like　me；　she　had　suffered　under
trifles；　mighty　to　souls　whose　limpid　substance　quivers　to　the　least
shock；　as　a　lake　quivers　on　the　surface　and　to　its　utmost　depths　when
a　stone　is　flung　into　it。　When　she　married　she　possessed　some　girlish
savings；　a　little　gold；　the　fruit　of　happy　hours　and　repressed
fancies。　These；　in　a　moment　when　they　were　needed；　she　gave　to　her
husband；　not　telling　him　they　were　gifts　and　savings　of　her　own。　He
took　no　account　of　them；　and　never　regarded　himself　her　debtor。　She
did　not　even　obtain　the　glance　of　thanks　that　would　have　paid　for　all。
Ah！　how　she　went　from　trial　to　trial！　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf　habitually
neglected　to　give　her　money　for　the　household。　When；　after　a　struggle
with　her　timidity；　she　asked　him　for　it；　he　seemed　surprised　and　never
once　spared　her　the　mortification　of　petitioning　for　necessities。　What
terror　filled　her　mind　when　the　real　nature　of　the　ruined　man's
disease　was　revealed　to　her；　and　she　quailed　under　the　first　outbreak
of　his　mad　anger！　What　bitter　reflections　she　had　made　before　she
brought　herself　to　admit　that　her　husband　was　a　wreck！　What　horrible
calamities　had　come　of　her　bearing　children！　What　anguish　she　felt　at
the　sight　of　those　infants　born　almost　dead！　With　what　courage　had　she
said　in　her　heart：　〃I　will　breathe　the　breath　of　life　into　them；　I
will　bear　them　anew　day　by　day！〃　Then　conceive　the　bitterness　of
finding　her　greatest　obstacle　in　the　heart　and　hand　from　which　a　wife
should　draw　her　greatest　succor！　She　saw　the　untold　disaster　that
threatened　him。　As　each　difficulty　was　conquered；　new　deserts　opened
before　her；　until　the　day　when　she　thoroughly　understood　her　husband's
condition；　the　constitution　of　her　children；　and　the　character　of　the
neighborhood　in　which　she　lived；　a　day　when　（like　the　child　taken　by
Napoleon　from　a　tender　home）　she　taught　her　feet　to　trample　through
mud　and　snow；　she　trained　her　nerves　to　bullets　and　all　her　being　to
the　passive　obedience　of　a　soldier。

These　things；　of　which　I　here　make　a　summary；　she　told　me　in　all　their
dark　extent；　with　every　piteous　detail　of　conjugal　battles　lost　and
fruitless　struggles。

〃You　would　have　to　live　here　many　months；〃　she　said；　in　conclusion；
〃to　understand　what　difficulties　I　have　met　with　in　improving
Clochegourde；　what　persuasions　I　have　had　to　use　to　make　him　do　a
thing　which　was　most　important　to　his　interests。　You　cannot　imagine
the　childish　glee　he　has　shown　when　anything　that　I　advised　was　not　at
once　successful。　All　that　turned　out　well　he　claimed　for　himself。　Yes；
I　need　an　infinite　patience　to　bear　his　complaints　when　I　am　half…
exhausted　in　the　effort　to　amuse　his　weary　hours；　to　sweeten　his　life
and　smooth　the　paths　which　he　himself　has　strewn　with　stones。　The
reward　he　gives　me　is　that　awful　cry：　'Let　me　die；　life　is　a　burden　to
me！'　When　visitors　are　here　and　he　enjoys　them；　he　forgets　his　gloom
and　is　courteous　and　polite。　You　ask　me　why　he　cannot　be　so　to　his
family。　I　cannot　explain　that　want　of　loyalty　in　a　man　who　is　truly
chivalrous。　He　is　qu