juana-第4章

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and　sword。　An　Imperia　built　I　forget　which　church　in　Rome　in　a　frenzy

of　repentance；　as　Rhodope　built；　in　earlier　times；　a　pyramid　in　Egypt。

The　name　Marana；　inflicted　at　first　as　a　disgrace　upon　the　singular

family　with　which　we　are　now　concerned；　had　ended　by　becoming　its

veritable　name　and　by　ennobling　its　vice　by　incontestable　antiquity。



One　day；　a　day　of　opulence　or　of　penury　I　know　not　which；　for　this

event　was　a　secret　between　herself　and　God；　but　assuredly　it　was　in　a

moment　of　repentance　and　melancholy；　this　Marana　of　the　nineteenth

century　stood　with　her　feet　in　the　slime　and　her　head　raised　to

heaven。　She　cursed　the　blood　in　her　veins；　she　cursed　herself；　she

trembled　lest　she　should　have　a　daughter；　and　she　swore；　as　such　women

swear；　on　the　honor　and　with　the　will　of　the　galleysthe　firmest

will；　the　most　scrupulous　honor　that　there　is　on　earthshe　swore；

before　an　altar；　and　believing　in　that　altar；　to　make　her　daughter　a

virtuous　creature；　a　saint；　and　thus　to　gain；　after　that　long　line　of

lost　women；　criminals　in　love；　an　angel　in　heaven　for　them　all。



The　vow　once　made；　the　blood　of　the　Maranas　spoke；　the　courtesan

returned　to　her　reckless　life；　a　thought　the　more　within　her　heart。　At

last　she　loved；　with　the　violent　love　of　such　women；　as　Henrietta

Wilson　loved　Lord　Ponsonby；　as　Mademoiselle　Dupuis　loved　Bolingbroke；

as　the　Marchesa　Pescara　loved　her　husbandbut　no；　she　did　not　love；

she　adored　one　of　those　fair　men；　half　women；　to　whom　she　gave　the

virtues　which　she　had　not；　striving　to　keep　for　herself　all　that　there

was　of　vice　between　them。　It　was　from　that　weak　man；　that　senseless

marriage　unblessed　by　God　or　man　which　happiness　is　thought　to

justify；　but　which　no　happiness　absolves；　and　for　which　men　blush　at

last；　that　she　had　a　daughter；　a　daughter　to　save；　a　daughter　for　whom

to　desire　a　noble　life　and　the　chastity　she　had　not。　Henceforth；　happy

or　not　happy；　opulent　or　beggared；　she　had　in　her　heart　a　pure；

untainted　sentiment；　the　highest　of　all　human　feelings　because　the

most　disinterested。　Love　has　its　egotism；　but　motherhood　has　none。　La

Marana　was　a　mother　like　none　other；　for；　in　her　total；　her　eternal

shipwreck；　motherhood　might　still　redeem　her。　To　accomplish　sacredly

through　life　the　task　of　sending　a　pure　soul　to　heaven；　was　not　that　a

better　thing　than　a　tardy　repentance？　was　it　not；　in　truth；　the　only

spotless　prayer　which　she　could　lift　to　God？



So；　when　this　daughter；　when　her　Marie…Juana…Pepita　（she　would　fain

have　given　her　all　the　saints　in　the　calendar　as　guardians）；　when　this

dear　little　creature　was　granted　to　her；　she　became　possessed　of　so

high　an　idea　of　the　dignity　of　motherhood　that　she　entreated　vice　to

grant　her　a　respite。　She　made　herself　virtuous　and　lived　in　solitude。

No　more　fetes；　no　more　orgies；　no　more　love。　All　joys；　all　fortunes

were　centred　now　in　the　cradle　of　her　child。　The　tones　of　that　infant

voice　made　an　oasis　for　her　soul　in　the　burning　sands　of　her

existence。　That　sentiment　could　not　be　measured　or　estimated　by　any

other。　Did　it　not；　in　fact；　comprise　all　human　sentiments；　all

heavenly　hopes？　La　Marana　was　so　resolved　not　to　soil　her　daughter

with　any　stain　other　than　that　of　birth；　that　she　sought　to　invest　her

with　social　virtues；　she　even　obliged　the　young　father　to　settle　a

handsome　patrimony　upon　the　child　and　to　give　her　his　name。　Thus　the

girl　was　not　know　as　Juana　Marana；　but　as　Juana　di　Mancini。



Then；　after　seven　years　of　joy；　and　kisses；　and　intoxicating

happiness；　the　time　came　when　the　poor　Marana　deprived　herself　of　her

idol。　That　Juana　might　never　bow　her　head　under　their　hereditary

shame；　the　mother　had　the　courage　to　renounce　her　child　for　her

child's　sake；　and　to　seek；　not　without　horrible　suffering；　for　another

mother；　another　home；　other　principles　to　follow；　other　and　saintlier

examples　to　imitate。　The　abdication　of　a　mother　is　either　a　revolting

act　or　a　sublime　one；　in　this　case；　was　it　not　sublime？



At　Tarragona　a　lucky　accident　threw　the　Lagounias　in　her　way；　under

circumstances　which　enabled　her　to　recognize　the　integrity　of　the

Spaniard　and　the　noble　virtue　of　his　wife。　She　came　to　them　at　a　time

when　her　proposal　seemed　that　of　a　liberating　angel。　The　fortune　and

honor　of　the　merchant；　momentarily　compromised；　required　a　prompt　and

secret　succor。　La　Marana　made　over　to　the　husband　the　whole　sum　she

had　obtained　of　the　father　for　Juana's　〃dot；〃　requiring　neither

acknowledgment　nor　interest。　According　to　her　own　code　of　honor；　a

contract；　a　trust；　was　a　thing　of　the　heart；　and　God　its　supreme

judge。　After　stating　the　miseries　of　her　position　to　Dona　Lagounia；

she　confided　her　daughter　and　her　daughter's　fortune　to　the　fine　old

Spanish　honor；　pure　and　spotless；　which　filled　the　precincts　of　that

ancient　house。　Dona　Lagounia　had　no　child；　and　she　was　only　too　happy

to　obtain　one　to　nurture。　The　mother　then　parted　from　her　Juana；

convinced　that　the　child's　future　was　safe；　and　certain　of　having

found　her　a　mother；　a　mother　who　would　bring　her　up　as　a　Mancini；　and

not　as　a　Marana。



Leaving　her　child　in　the　simple　modest　house　of　the　merchant　where　the

burgher　virtues　reigned；　where　religion　and　sacred　sentiments　and

honor　filled　the　air；　the　poor　prostitute；　the　disinherited　mother　was

enabled　to　bear　her　trial　by　visions　of　Juana；　virgin；　wife；　and

mother；　a　mother　throughout　her　life。　On　the　threshold　of　that　house

Marana　left　a　tear　such　as　the　angels　garner　up。



Since　that　day　of　mourning　and　hope　the　mother；　drawn　by　some

invincible　presentiment；　had　thrice　returned　to　see　her　daughter。　Once

when　Juana　fell　ill　with　a　dangerous　complaint：



〃I　knew　it；〃　she　said　to　Perez　when　she　reached　the　house。



Asleep；　she　had　seen　her　Juana　dying。　She　nursed　her　and　watched　her；

until　one　morning；　sure　of　the　girl's　convalescence；　she　kissed　her；

still　asleep；　on　the　forehead　and　left　her　without　betraying　whom　she

was。　A　second　time　the　Marana　came　to　the　church　where　Juana　made　her

first　communion。　Simply　dressed；　concealing　herself　behind　a　column；

the　exiled　mother　recognized　herself　in　her　daughter　such　as　she　once

had　been；　pure　as　the　snow　fresh…fallen　on　the　Alps。　A　courtesan　even

in　maternity；　the　Marana　felt　in　the　depths　of　her　soul　a　jealous

sentiment；　stronger　for　the　moment　than　that　of　love；　and　she　left　the

church；　incapable　of　resisting　any　longer　the　desire　to　kill　Dona

Lagounia；　as　she　sat　there；　with　radiant　face；　too　much　the　mother　of

her　child。　A　third　and　last　meeting　had　taken　place　between　mother　and

daughter　in　the　streets　of　Milan；　to　which　city　the　merchant　and　his

wife　had　paid　a　visit。　The　Marana　drove　through　the　Corso　in　all　the

splendor　of　a　sovereign；　she　passed　her　daughter　like　a　flash　of

lightning　and　was　not　recognized。　Horrible　anguish！　To　this　Marana；

surfeited　with　kisses；　one　was　lacking；　a　single　one；　for　which　she

would　have　bartered　all　the　others：　the　joyous；　girlish　kiss　of　a

daughter　to　a　mother；　an　honored　mother；　a　mother　in　whom　shone　all

the　domestic　virtues。　Juana　living　was　dead　to　her。　One　thought

revived　the　soul　of　the　courtesana　precious　thought！　Juana　was

henceforth　safe。　She　might　be　the　humblest　of　women；　but　at　least　she

was　not　what　her　mother　wasan　infamous　courtesan。



The　merchant　and　his　wife　had　fulfilled　their　trust　with　scrupulous

integrity。　Juana's　fortune；　managed　by　them；　had　increased　tenfold。

Perez　de　Lagounia；　now　the　richest　merchant　in　the　provinces；　felt　for

the　young　girl　a　sentiment　that　was　semi…superstitious。　Her　money　had

preserved　his　ancient　house　from　dishonorable　ruin；　and　the　presence

of　so　precious　a　treasure　had　brought　him　untold　prosperity。　His　wife；

a　heart　of　gold；　and　full　of　delicacy；　had　made　the　child　religious；

and　as　pure　as　she　was　beautiful。　Juana　might　well　become　the　wife　of

either　a　great　seigneur　or　a　wealthy　merchant；　she　lacked　no　virtue

necessary　to　the　highest　de