the magic skin-第42章
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consumption that will cry out to me; 'Let us be going!' as to Raphael
of Urbino; in old time; killed by an excess of love。
〃In this way I have existed。 I was launched into the world too early
or too late。 My energy would have been dangerous there; no doubt; if I
had not have squandered it in such ways as these。 Was not the world
rid of an Alexander; by the cup of Hercules; at the close of a
drinking bout?
〃There are some; the sport of Destiny; who must either have heaven or
hell; the hospice of St。 Bernard or riotous excess。 Only just now I
lacked the heart to moralize about those two;〃 and he pointed to
Euphrasia and Aquilina。 〃They are types of my own personal history;
images of my life! I could scarcely reproach them; they stood before
me like judges。
〃In the midst of this drama that I was enacting; and while my
distracting disorder was at its height; two crises supervened; each
brought me keen and abundant pangs。 The first came a few days after I
had flung myself; like Sardanapalus; on my pyre。 I met Foedora under
the peristyle of the Bouffons。 We both were waiting for our carriages。
〃 'Ah! so you are living yet?'
〃That was the meaning of her smile; and probably of the spiteful words
she murmured in the ear of her cicisbeo; telling him my history no
doubt; rating mine as a common love affair。 She was deceived; yet she
was applauding her perspicacity。 Oh; that I should be dying for her;
must still adore her; always see her through my potations; see her
still when I was overcome with wine; or in the arms of courtesans; and
know that I was a target for her scornful jests! Oh; that I should be
unable to tear the love of her out of my breast and to fling it at her
feet!
〃Well; I quickly exhausted my funds; but owing to those three years of
discipline; I enjoyed the most robust health; and on the day that I
found myself without a penny I felt remarkably well。 In order to carry
on the process of dying; I signed bills at short dates; and the day
came when they must be met。 Painful excitements! but how they quicken
the pulses of youth! I was not prematurely aged; I was young yet; and
full of vigor and life。
〃At my first debt all my virtues came to life; slowly and despairingly
they seemed to pace towards me; but I could compound with themthey
were like aged aunts that begin with a scolding and end by bestowing
tears and money upon you。
〃Imagination was less yielding; I saw my name bandied about through
every city in Europe。 'One's name is oneself' says Eusebe Salverte。
After these excursions I returned to the room I had never quitted;
like a doppelganger in a German tale; and came to myself with a start。
〃I used to see with indifference a banker's messenger going on his
errands through the streets of Paris; like a commercial Nemesis;
wearing his master's liverya gray coat and a silver badge; but now I
hated the species in advance。 One of them came one morning to ask me
to meet some eleven bills that I had scrawled my name upon。 My
signature was worth three thousand francs! Taking me altogether; I
myself was not worth that amount。 Sheriff's deputies rose up before
me; turning their callous faces upon my despair; as the hangman
regards the criminal to whom he says; 'It has just struck half…past
three。' I was in the power of their clerks; they could scribble my
name; drag it through the mire; and jeer at it。 I was a defaulter。 Has
a debtor any right to himself? Could not other men call me to account
for my way of living? Why had I eaten puddings a la chipolata? Why had
I iced my wine? Why had I slept; or walked; or thought; or amused
myself when I had not paid them?
〃At any moment; in the middle of a poem; during some train of thought;
or while I was gaily breakfasting in the pleasant company of my
friends; I might look to see a gentleman enter in a coat of chestnut…
brown; with a shabby hat in his hand。 This gentleman's appearance
would signify my debt; the bill I had drawn; the spectre would compel
me to leave the table to speak to him; blight my spirits; despoil me
of my cheerfulness; of my mistress; of all I possessed; down to my
very bedstead。
〃Remorse itself is more easily endured。 Remorse does not drive us into
the street nor into the prison of Sainte…Pelagie; it does not force us
into the detestable sink of vice。 Remorse only brings us to the
scaffold; where the executioner invests us with a certain dignity; as
we pay the extreme penalty; everybody believes in our innocence; but
people will not credit a penniless prodigal with a single virtue。
〃My debts had other incarnations。 There is the kind that goes about on
two feet; in a green cloth coat; and blue spectacles; carrying
umbrellas of various hues; you come face to face with him at the
corner of some street; in the midst of your mirth。 These have the
detestable prerogative of saying; 'M。 de Valentin owes me something;
and does not pay。 I have a hold on him。 He had better not show me any
offensive airs!' You must bow to your creditors; and moreover bow
politely。 'When are you going to pay me?' say they。 And you must lie;
and beg money of another man; and cringe to a fool seated on his
strong…box; and receive sour looks in return from these horse…leeches;
a blow would be less hateful; you must put up with their crass
ignorance and calculating morality。 A debt is a feat of the
imaginative that they cannot appreciate。 A borrower is often carried
away and over…mastered by generous impulses; nothing great; nothing
magnanimous can move or dominate those who live for money; and
recognize nothing but money。 I myself held money in abhorrence。
〃Or a bill may undergo a final transformation into some meritorious
old man with a family dependent upon him。 My creditor might be a
living picture for Greuze; a paralytic with his children round him; a
soldier's widow; holding out beseeching hands to me。 Terrible
creditors are these with whom we are forced to sympathize; and when
their claims are satisfied we owe them a further debt of assistance。
〃The night before the bills fell due; I lay down with the false calm
of those who sleep before their approaching execution; or with a duel
in prospect; rocked as they are by delusive hopes。 But when I woke;
when I was cool and collected; when I found myself imprisoned in a
banker's portfolio; and floundering in statements covered with red ink
then my debts sprang up everywhere; like grasshoppers; before my
eyes。 There were my debts; my clock; my armchairs; my debts were
inlaid in the very furniture which I liked best to use。 These gentle
inanimate slaves were to fall prey to the harpies of the Chatelet;
were to be carried off by the broker's men; and brutally thrown on the
market。 Ah; my property was a part of myself!
〃The sound of the door…bell rang through my heart; while it seemed to
strike at me; where kings should be struck atin the head。 Mine was a
martyrdom; without heaven for its reward。 For a magnanimous nature;
debt is a hell; and a hell; moreover; with sheriff's officers and
brokers in it。 An undischarged debt is something mean and sordid; it
is a beginning of knavery; it is something worse; it is a lie; it
prepares the way for crime; and brings together the planks for the
scaffold。 My bills were protested。 Three days afterwards I met them;
and this is how it happened。
〃A speculator came; offering to buy the island in the Loire belonging
to me; where my mother lay buried。 I closed with him。 When I went to
his solicitor to sign the deeds; I felt a cavern…like chill in the
dark office that made me shudder; it was the same cold dampness that
had laid hold upon me at the brink of my father's grave。 I looked upon
this as an evil omen。 I seemed to see the shade of my mother; and to
hear her voice。 What power was it that made my own name ring vaguely
in my ears; in spite of the clamor of bells?
〃The money paid down for my islan