honorine-第14章

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hedged　round　by　an　imprescriptible　prerogative。　In　men　gratitude　for
past　delights　is　eternal。　Though　he　should　find　his　mistress　grown　old
or　unworthy；　the　woman　still　has　rights　over　his　heart；　but　to　you
women　the　man　you　have　loved　is　as　nothing　to　you；　nay；　more；　he　is
unpardonable　in　one　thinghe　lives　on！　You　dare　not　own　it；　but　you
all　have　in　your　hearts　the　feeling　which　that　popular　calumny　called
tradition　ascribes　to　the　Lady　of　the　Tour　de　Nesle：　〃What　a　pity　it
is　that　we　cannot　live　on　love　as　we　live　on　fruit；　and　that　when　we
have　had　our　fill；　nothing　should　survive　but　the　remembrance　of
pleasure！〃　'

〃　'God　has；　no　doubt；　reserved　such　perfect　bliss　for　Paradise；'　said
she。　'But；'　she　added；　'if　your　argument　seems　to　you　very　witty；　to
me　it　has　the　disadvantage　of　being　false。　What　can　those　women　be　who
give　themselves　up　to　a　succession　of　loves？'　she　asked；　looking　at　me
as　the　Virgin　in　Ingres'　picture　looks　at　Louis　XIII。　offering　her　his
kingdom。

〃　'You　are　an　actress　in　good　faith；'　said　I；　'for　you　gave　me　a　look
just　now　which　would　make　the　fame　of　an　actress。　Still；　lovely　as　you
are；　you　have　loved；　/ergo/；　you　forget。'

〃　'I！'　she　exclaimed；　evading　my　question；　'I　am　not　a　woman。　I　am　a
nun；　and　seventy…two　years　old！'

〃　'Then；　how　can　you　so　positively　assert　that　you　feel　more　keenly
than　I？　Sorrow　has　but　one　form　for　women。　The　only　misfortunes　they
regard　are　disappointments　of　the　heart。'

〃She　looked　at　me　sweetly；　and；　like　all　women　when　stuck　between　the
issues　of　a　dilemma；　or　held　in　the　clutches　of　truth；　she　persisted；
nevertheless；　in　her　wilfulness。

〃　'I　am　a　nun；'　she　said；　'and　you　talk　to　me　of　the　world　where　I
shall　never　again　set　foot。'

〃　'Not　even　in　thought？'　said　I。

〃　'Is　the　world　so　much　to　be　desired？'　she　replied。　'Oh！　when　my　mind
wanders；　it　goes　higher。　The　angel　of　perfection；　the　beautiful　angel
Gabriel；　often　sings　in　my　heart。　If　I　were　rich；　I　should　work；　all
the　same；　to　keep　me　from　soaring　too　often　on　the　many…tinted　wings
of　the　angel；　and　wandering　in　the　world　of　fancy。　There　are
meditations　which　are　the　ruin　of　us　women！　I　owe　much　peace　of　mind
to　my　flowers；　though　sometimes　they　fail　to　occupy　me。　On　some　days　I
find　my　soul　invaded　by　a　purposeless　expectancy；　I　cannot　banish　some
idea　which　takes　possession　of　me；　which　seems　to　make　my　fingers
clumsy。　I　feel　that　some　great　event　is　impending；　that　my　life　is
about　to　change；　I　listen　vaguely；　I　stare　into　the　darkness；　I　have
no　liking　for　my　work；　and　after　a　thousand　fatigues　I　find　life　once
moreeveryday　life。　Is　this　a　warning　from　heaven？　I　ask　myself'

〃After　three　months　of　this　struggle　between　two　diplomates；　concealed
under　the　semblance　of　youthful　melancholy；　and　a　woman　whose　disgust
of　life　made　her　invulnerable；　I　told　the　Count　that　it　was　impossible
to　drag　this　tortoise　out　of　her　shell；　it　must　be　broken。　The　evening
before；　in　our　last　quite　friendly　discussion；　the　Countess　had
exclaimed：

〃　'Lucretia's　dagger　wrote　in　letters　of　blood　the　watchword　of
woman's　charter：　/Liberty！/'

〃From　that　moment　the　Count　left　me　free　to　act。

〃　'I　have　been　paid　a　hundred　francs　for　the　flowers　and　caps　I　made
this　week！'　Honorine　exclaimed　gleefully　one　Saturday　evening　when　I
went　to　visit　her　in　the　little　sitting…room　on　the　ground　floor；
which　the　unavowed　proprietor　had　had　regilt。

〃It　was　ten　o'clock。　The　twilight　of　July　and　a　glorious　moon　lent　us
their　misty　light。　Gusts　of　mingled　perfumes　soothed　the　soul；　the
Countess　was　clinking　in　her　hand　the　five　gold　pieces　given　to　her　by
a　supposititious　dealer　in　fashionable　frippery；　another　of　Octave's
accomplices　found　for　him　by　a　judge；　M。　Popinot。

〃　'I　earn　my　living　by　amusing　myself；'　said　she；　'I　am　free；　when
men；　armed　with　their　laws；　have　tried　to　make　us　slaves。　Oh；　I　have
transports　of　pride　every　Saturday！　In　short；　I　like　M。　Gaudissart's
gold　pieces　as　much　as　Lord　Byron；　your　double；　liked　Mr。　Murray's。'

〃　'This　is　not　becoming　in　a　woman；'　said　I。

〃　'Pooh！　Am　I　a　woman？　I　am　a　boy　gifted　with　a　soft　soul；　that　is
all；　a　boy　whom　no　woman　can　torture'

〃　'Your　life　is　the　negation　of　your　whole　being；'　I　replied。　'What？
You；　on　whom　God　has　lavished　His　choicest　treasures　of　love　and
beauty；　do　you　never　wish'

〃　'For　what？'　said　she；　somewhat　disturbed　by　a　speech　which；　for　the
first　time；　gave　the　lie　to　the　part　I　had　assumed。

〃　'For　a　pretty　little　child；　with　curling　hair；　running；　playing
among　the　flowers；　like　a　flower　itself　of　life　and　love；　and　calling
you　mother！'

〃I　waited　for　an　answer。　A　too　prolonged　silence　led　me　to　perceive
the　terrible　effect　of　my　words；　though　the　darkness　at　first
concealed　it。　Leaning　on　her　sofa；　the　Countess　had　not　indeed
fainted；　but　frozen　under　a　nervous　attack　of　which　the　first　chill；
as　gentle　as　everything　that　was　part　of　her；　felt；　as　she　afterwards
said；　like　the　influence　of　a　most　insidious　poison。　I　called　Madame
Gobain；　who　came　and　led　away　her　mistress；　laid　her　on　her　bed；
unlaced　her；　undressed　her；　and　restored　her；　not　to　life；　it　is　true；
but　to　the　consciousness　of　some　dreadful　suffering。　I　meanwhile
walked　up　and　down　the　path　behind　the　house；　weeping；　and　doubting　my
success。　I　only　wished　to　give　up　this　part　of　the　bird…catcher　which
I　had　so　rashly　assumed。　Madame　Gobain；　who　came　down　and　found　me
with　my　face　wet　with　tears；　hastily　went　up　again　to　say　to　the
Countess：

〃　'What　has　happened；　madame？　Monsieur　Maurice　is　crying　like　a
child。'

〃Roused　to　action　by　the　evil　interpretation　that　might　be　put　on　our
mutual　behavior；　she　summoned　superhuman　strength　to　put　on　a　wrapper
and　come　down　to　me。

〃　'You　are　not　the　cause　of　this　attack；'　said　she。　'I　am　subject　to
these　spasms；　a　sort　of　cramp　of　the　heart'

〃　'And　will　you　not　tell　me　of　your　troubles？'　said　I；　in　a　voice
which　cannot　be　affected；　as　I　wiped　away　my　tears。　'Have　you　not　just
now　told　me　that　you　have　been　a　mother；　and　have　been　so　unhappy　as
to　lose　your　child？'

〃　'Marie！'　she　called　as　she　rang　the　bell。　Gobain　came　in。

〃　'Bring　lights　and　some　tea；'　said　she；　with　the　calm　decision　of　a
Mylady　clothed　in　the　armor　of　pride　by　the　dreadful　English　training
which　you　know　too　well。

〃When　the　housekeeper　had　lighted　the　tapers　and　closed　the　shutters；
the　Countess　showed　me　a　mute　countenance；　her　indomitable　pride　and
gravity；　worthy　of　a　savage；　had　already　reasserted　their　mastery。　She
said：

〃　'Do　you　know　why　I　like　Lord　Byron　so　much？　It　is　because　he
suffered　as　animals　do。　Of　what　use　are　complaints　when　they　are　not
an　elegy　like　Manfred's；　nor　bitter　mockery　like　Don　Juan's；　nor　a
reverie　like　Childe　Harold's？　Nothing　shall　be　known　of　me。　My　heart
is　a　poem　that　I　lay　before　God。'

〃　'If　I　chose'　said　I。

〃　'If？'　she　repeated。

〃　'I　have　no　interest　in　anything；'　I　replied；　'so　I　cannot　be
inquisitive；　but；　if　I　chose；　I　could　know　all　your　secrets　by
to…morrow。'

〃　'I　defy　you！'　she　exclaimed；　with　ill…disguised　uneasiness。

〃　'Seriously？'

〃　'Certainly；'　said　she；　tossing　her　head。　'If　such　a　crime　is
possible；　I　ought　to　know　it。'

〃　'In　the　first　place；　madame；'　I　went　on；　pointing　to　her　hands；
'those　pretty　fingers；　which　are　enough　to　show　that　you　are　not　a
mere　girlwere　they　made　for　toil？　Then　you　call　yourself　Madame
Gobain；　you；　who；　in　my　presence　the　other　day　on　receiving　a　letter；
said　to　Marie：　〃Here；　this　is　for　you？〃　Marie　is　the　real　Madame
Gobain；　so　you　conceal　your　name　behind　that　of　your　housekeeper。
Fear　nothing；　madame；　from　me。　You　have　in　me　the　most　devoted　friend
you　will　ever　have：　Friend；　do　you　understand　me？　I　give　this　word　its
sacred　and　pathetic　meaning；　so　profaned　in　France；　where　we　apply　it
to　our　enemies。　And　your　friend；　who　will　defend　you　against
everything；　only　wishes　that　you　should　be　as　happy　as　such　a　woman
ought　to　be。　Who　can　tell　whether　the　pain　I　have　involuntarily　caused
you　was　not　a　voluntary　act？'

〃　'Yes；'　replied　she　with　threatening　audacity；　'I　insist　on　it。　Be
curious；　and　tell　me　all　that　you　can　find　out