modeste mignon-第32章

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mother's　bedtime　with　impatience。　She　intended　to　write；　but　never　did

so　except　at　night。　Here　is　the　letter　which　love　dictated　to　her

while　all　the　world　was　sleeping：



　　To　Monsieur　de　Canalis；Ah！　my　friend；　my　well…beloved！　What

　　atrocious　falsehoods　those　portraits　in　the　shop…windows　are！　And

　　I；　who　made　that　horrible　lithograph　my　joy！I　am　humbled　at　the

　　thought　of　loving　one　so　handsome。　No；　it　is　impossible　that　those

　　Parisian　women　are　so　stupid　as　not　to　have　seen　their　dreams

　　fulfilled　in　you。　You　neglected！　you　unloved！　I　do　not　believe　a

　　word　of　all　that　you　have　written　me　about　your　lonely　and　obscure

　　life；　your　hunger　for　an　idol；sought　in　vain　until　now。　You　have

　　been　too　well　loved；　monsieur；　your　brow；　white　and　smooth　as　a

　　magnolia　leaf；　reveals　it；　and　it　is　I　who　must　be　neglected；for

　　who　am　I？　Ah！　why　have　you　called　me　to　life？　I　felt　for　a　moment

　　as　though　the　heavy　burden　of　the　flesh　was　leaving　me；　my　soul

　　had　broken　the　crystal　which　held　it　captive；　it　pervaded　my　whole

　　being；　the　cold　silence　of　material　things　had　ceased；　all　things

　　in　nature　had　a　voice　and　spoke　to　me。　The　old　church　was

　　luminous。　It's　arched　roof；　brilliant　with　gold　and　azure　like

　　those　of　an　Italian　cathedral；　sparkled　above　my　head。　Melodies

　　such　as　the　angels　sang　to　martyrs；　quieting　their　pains；　sounded

　　from　the　organ。　The　rough　pavements　of　Havre　seemed　to　my　feet　a

　　flowery　mead；　the　sea　spoke　to　me　with　a　voice　of　sympathy；　like

　　an　old　friend　whom　I　had　never　truly　understood。　I　saw　clearly　how

　　the　roses　in　my　garden　had　long　adored　me　and　bidden　me　love；　they

　　lifted　their　heads　and　smiled　as　I　came　back　from　church。　I　heard

　　your　name；　〃Melchior；〃　chiming　in　the　flower…bells；　I　saw　it

　　written　on　the　clouds。　Yes；　yes；　I　live；　I　am　living；　thanks　to

　　thee；my　poet；　more　beautiful　than　that　cold；　conventional　Lord

　　Byron；　with　a　face　as　dull　as　the　English　climate。　One　glance　of

　　thine；　thine　Orient　glance；　pierced　through　my　double　veil　and

　　sent　thy　blood　to　my　heart；　and　from　thence　to　my　head　and　feet。

　　Ah！　that　is　not　the　life　our　mother　gave　us。　A　hurt　to　thee　would

　　hurt　me　too　at　the　very　instant　it　was　given；my　life　exists　by

　　thy　thought　only。　I　know　now　the　purpose　of　the　divine　faculty　of

　　music；　the　angels　invented　it　to　utter　love。　Ah；　my　Melchior；　to

　　have　genius　and　to　have　beauty　is　too　much；　a　man　should　be　made

　　to　choose　between　them　at　his　birth。



　　When　I　think　of　the　treasures　of　tenderness　and　affection　which

　　you　have　given　me；　and　more　especially　for　the　last　month；　I　ask

　　myself　if　I　dream。　No；　but　you　hide　some　mystery；　what　woman　can

　　yield　you　up　to　me　and　not　die？　Ah！　jealousy　has　entered　my　heart

　　with　love；love　in　which　I　could　not　have　believed。　How　could　I

　　have　imagined　so　mighty　a　conflagration？　And　nowstrange　and

　　inconceivable　revulsion！I　would　rather　you　were　ugly。



　　What　follies　I　committed　after　I　came　home！　The　yellow　dahlias

　　reminded　me　of　your　waistcoat；　the　white　roses　were　my　loving

　　friends；　I　bowed　to　them　with　a　look　that　belonged　to　you；　like

　　all　that　is　of　me。　The　very　color　of　the　gloves；　moulded　to　hands

　　of　a　gentleman；　your　step　along　the　nave；all；　all；　is　so　printed

　　on　my　memory　that　sixty　years　hence　I　shall　see　the　veriest

　　trifles　of　this　day　of　days；the　color　of　the　atmosphere；　the　ray

　　of　sunshine　that　flickered　on　a　certain　pillar；　I　shall　hear　the

　　prayer　your　step　interrupted；　I　shall　inhale　the　incense　of　the

　　altar；　forever　I　shall　feel　above　our　heads　the　priestly　hands

　　that　blessed　us　both　as　you　passed　by　me　at　the　closing

　　benediction。　The　good　Abbe　Marcelin　married　us　then！　The

　　happiness；　above　that　of　earth；　which　I　feel　in　this　new　world　of

　　unexpected　emotions　can　only　be　equalled　by　the　joy　of　telling　it

　　to　you；　of　sending　it　back　to　him　who　poured　it　into　my　heart　with

　　the　lavishness　of　the　sun　itself。　No　more　veils；　no　more

　　disguises；　my　beloved。　Come　back　to　me；　oh；　come　back　soon。　With

　　joy　I　now　unmask。



　　You　have　no　doubt　heard　of　the　house　of　Mignon　in　Havre？　Well；　I

　　am；　through　an　irreparable　misfortune；　its　sole　heiress。　But　you

　　are　not　to　look　down　upon　us；　descendant　of　an　Auvergne　knight；

　　the　arms　of　the　Mignon　de　La　Bastie　will　do　no　dishonor　to　those

　　of　Canalis。　We　bear　gules；　on　a　bend　sable　four　bezants　or；

　　quarterly　four　crosses　patriarchal　or；　a　cardinal's　hat　as　crest；

　　and　the　fiocchi　for　supports。　Dear；　I　will　be　faithful　to　our

　　motto：　〃Una　fides；　unus　Dominus！〃the　true　faith；　and　one　only

　　Master。



　　Perhaps；　my　friend；　you　will　find　some　irony　in　my　name；　after　all

　　that　I　have　done；　and　all　that　I　herein　avow。　I　am　named　Modeste。

　　Therefore　I　have　not　deceived　you　by　signing　〃O。　d'Este　M。〃

　　Neither　have　I　misled　you　about　our　fortune；　it　will　amount；　I

　　believe；　to　the　sum　which　rendered　you　so　virtuous。　I　know　that　to

　　you　money　is　a　consideration　of　small　importance；　therefore　I

　　speak　of　it　without　reserve。　Let　me　tell　you　how　happy　it　makes　me

　　to　give　freedom　of　action　to　our　happiness；to　be　able　to　say；

　　when　the　fancy　for　travel　takes　us；　〃Come；　let　us　go　in　a

　　comfortable　carriage；　sitting　side　by　side；　without　a　thought　of

　　money〃happy；　in　short；　to　tell　the　king；　〃I　have　the　fortune

　　which　you　require　in　your　peers。〃　Thus　Modeste　Mignon　can　be　of

　　service　to　you；　and　her　gold　will　have　the　noblest　of　uses。



　　As　to　your　servant　herself；you　did　see　her　once；　at　her　window。

　　Yes；　〃the　fairest　daughter　of　Eve　the　fair〃　was　indeed　your

　　unknown　damozel；　but　how　little　the　Modeste　of　to…day　resembles

　　her　of　that　long　past　era！　That　one　was　in　her　shroud；　this　one

　　have　I　made　you　know　it？has　received　from　you　the　life　of　life。

　　Love；　pure；　and　sanctioned；　the　love　my　father；　now　returning

　　rich　and　prosperous；　will　authorize；　has　raised　me　with　its

　　powerful　yet　childlike　hand　from　the　grave　in　which　I　slept。　You

　　have　wakened　me　as　the　sun　wakens　the　flowers。　The　eyes　of　your

　　beloved　are　no　longer　those　of　the　little　Modeste　so　daring　in　her

　　ignorance；no；　they　are　dimmed　with　the　sight　of　happiness；　and

　　the　lids　close　over　them。　To…day　I　tremble　lest　I　can　never

　　deserve　my　fate。　The　king　has　come　in　his　glory；　my　lord　has　now　a

　　subject　who　asks　pardon　for　the　liberties　she　has　taken；　like　the

　　gambler　with　loaded　dice　after　cheating　Monsieur　de　Grammont。



　　My　cherished　poet！　I　will　be　thy　Mignonhappier　far　than　the

　　Mignon　of　Goethe；　for　thou　wilt　leave　me　in　mine　own　land；in　thy

　　heart。　Just　as　I　write　this　pledge　of　our　betrothal　a　nightingale

　　in　the　Vilquin　park　answers　for　thee。　Ah；　tell　me　quick　that　his

　　note；　so　pure；　so　clear；　so　full；　which　fills　my　heart　with　joy　

　　and　love　like　an　Annunciation；　does　not　lie　to　me。



　　My　father　will　pass　through　Paris　on　his　way　from　Marseilles；　the

　　house　of　Mongenod；　with　whom　he　corresponds；　will　know　his

　　address。　Go　to　him；　my　Melchior；　tell　him　that　you　love　me；　but　do

　　not　try　to　tell　him　how　I　love　you；let　that　be　forever　between

　　ourselves　and　God。　I；　my　dear　one；　am　about　to　tell　everything　to

　　my　mother。　Her　heart　will　justify　my　conduct；　she　will　rejoice　in

　　our　secret　poem；　so　romantic；　human　and　divine　in　one。



　　You　have　the　confession　of　the　daughter；　you　must　now　obtain　the

　　consent　of　the　Comte　de　La　Bastie；　father　of　your



Modeste。





　　P。S。Above　all；　do　not　come　to　Havre　without　having　first

　　obtained　my　father's　consent。　If　you　love　me　you　will　not　fail　to

　　find　him　on　his　way　through　Paris。





〃What　are　you　doing；　up　at　this　hour；　Mademoiselle　Modeste？〃　said　the

voice　of　Dumay　at　her　door。



〃Writing　to　my　father；〃　she　answered；　〃did　you　not　tell　me　you　should

start　in　the　morning？〃



Dumay　had　nothing　to　say　to　that；　and　he　went　to　bed；　while　Modeste

wrote　another　long　letter；　this　time　to　her　fathe