letters of two brides-第19章

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Yesterday　at　Mme。　d'Espard's　you　had　a　self…satisfied　air　which
disgusted　me。　No　doubt；　apparently；　about　your　conquest！　In　sober
earnest；　your　self…possession　alarms　me。　Not　a　trace　in　you　of　the
humble　slave　of　your　first　letter。　Far　from　betraying　the　absent…
mindedness　of　a　lover；　you　polished　epigrams！　This　is　not　the　attitude
of　a　true　believer；　always　prostrate　before　his　divinity。

If　you　do　not　feel　me　to　be　the　very　breath　of　your　life；　a　being
nobler　than　other　women；　and　to　be　judged　by　other　standards；　then　I
must　be　less　than　a　woman　in　your　sight。　You　have　roused　in　me　a
spirit　of　mistrust；　Felipe；　and　its　angry　mutterings　have　drowned　the
accents　of　tenderness。　When　I　look　back　upon　what　has　passed　between
us；　I　feel　in　truth　that　I　have　a　right　to　be　suspicious。　For　know；
Prime　Minister　of　all　the　Spains；　that　I　have　reflected　much　on　the
defenceless　condition　of　our　sex。　My　innocence　has　held　a　torch；　and
my　fingers　are　not　burnt。　Let　me　repeat　to　you；　then；　what　my　youthful
experience　taught　me。

In　all　other　matters；　duplicity；　faithlessness；　and　broken　pledges　are
brought　to　book　and　punished；　but　not　so　with　love；　which　is　at　once
the　victim；　the　accuser；　the　counsel；　judge；　and　executioner。　The
cruelest　treachery；　the　most　heartless　crimes；　are　those　which　remain
for　ever　concealed；　with　two　hearts　alone　for　witness。　How　indeed
should　the　victim　proclaim　them　without　injury　to　herself？　Love；
therefore；　has　its　own　code；　its　own　penal　system；　with　which　the
world　has　no　concern。

Now；　for　my　part；　I　have　resolved　never　to　pardon　a　serious
misdemeanor；　and　in　love；　pray；　what　is　not　serious？　Yesterday　you　had
all　the　air　of　a　man　successful　in　his　suit。　You　would　be　wrong　to
doubt　it；　and　yet；　if　this　assurance　robbed　you　of　the　charming
simplicity　which　sprang　from　uncertainty；　I　should　blame　you　severely。
I　would　have　you　neither　bashful　nor　self…complacent；　I　would　not　have
you　in　terror　of　losing　my　affectionthat　would　be　an　insultbut
neither　would　I　have　you　wear　your　love　lightly　as　a　thing　of　course。
Never　should　your　heart　be　freer　than　mine。　If　you　know　nothing　of　the
torture　that　a　single　stab　of　doubt　brings　to　the　soul；　tremble　lest　I
give　you　a　lesson！

In　a　single　glance　I　confided　my　heart　to　you；　and　you　read　the
meaning。　The　purest　feelings　that　ever　took　root　in　a　young　girl's
breast　are　yours。　The　thought　and　meditation　of　which　I　have　told　you
served　only　to　enrich　the　mind；　but　if　ever　the　wounded　heart　turns　to
the　brain　for　counsel；　be　sure　the　young　girl　would　show　some　kinship
with　the　demon　of　knowledge　and　of　daring。

I　swear　to　you；　Felipe；　if　you　love　me；　as　I　believe　you　do　and　if　I
have　reason　to　suspect　the　least　falling　off　in　the　fear；　obedience；
and　respect　which　you　have　hitherto　professed；　if　the　pure　flame　of
passion　which　first　kindled　the　fire　of　my　heart　should　seem　to　me　any
day　to　burn　less　vividly；　you　need　fear　no　reproaches。　I　would　not
weary　you　with　letters　bearing　any　trace　of　weakness；　pride；　or　anger；
nor　even　with　one　of　warning　like　this。　But　if　I　spoke　no　words；
Felipe；　my　face　would　tell　you　that　death　was　near。　And　yet　I　should
not　die　till　I　had　branded　you　with　infamy；　and　sown　eternal　sorrow　in
your　heart；　you　would　see　the　girl　you　loved　dishonored　and　lost　in
this　world；　and　know　her　doomed　to　everlasting　suffering　in　the　next。

Do　not　therefore；　I　implore　you；　give　me　cause　to　envy　the　old；　happy
Louise；　the　object　of　your　pure　worship；　whose　heart　expanded　in　the
sunshine　of　happiness；　since；　in　the　words　of　Dante；　she　possessed；

　　Senza　brama；　sicura　ricchezza！

I　have　searched　the　/Inferno/　through　to　find　the　most　terrible
punishment；　some　torture　of　the　mind　to　which　I　might　link　the
vengeance　of　God。

Yesterday；　as　I　watched　you；　doubt　went　through　me　like　a　sharp；　cold
dagger's　point。　Do　you　know　what　that　means？　I　mistrusted　you；　and　the
pang　was　so　terrible；　I　could　not　endure　it　longer。　If　my　service　be
too　hard；　leave　it；　I　would　not　keep　you。　Do　I　need　any　proof　of　your
cleverness？　Keep　for　me　the　flowers　of　your　wit。　Show　to　others　no
fine　surface　to　call　forth　flattery；　compliments；　or　praise。　Come　to
me；　laden　with　hatred　or　scorn；　the　butt　of　calumny；　come　to　me　with
the　news　that　women　flout　you　and　ignore　you；　and　not　one　loves　you；
then；　ah！　then　you　will　know　the　treasures　of　Louise's　heart　and　love。

We　are　only　rich　when　our　wealth　is　buried　so　deep　that　all　the　world
might　trample　it　under　foot；　unknowing。　If　you　were　handsome；　I　don't
suppose　I　should　have　looked　at　you　twice；　or　discovered　one　of　the
thousand　reasons　out　of　which　my　love　sprang。　True；　we　know　no　more　of
these　reasons　than　we　know　why　it　is　the　sun　makes　the　flowers　to
bloom；　and　ripens　the　fruit。　Yet　I　could　tell　you　of　one　reason　very
dear　to　me。

The　character；　expression；　and　individuality　that　ennoble　your　face
are　a　sealed　book　to　all　but　me。　Mine　is　the　power　which　transforms
you　into　the　most　lovable　of　men；　and　that　is　why　I　would　keep　your
mental　gifts　also　for　myself。　To　others　they　should　be　as　meaningless
as　your　eyes；　the　charm　of　your　mouth　and　features。　Let　it　be　mine
alone　to　kindle　the　beacon　of　your　intelligence；　as　I　bring　the
lovelight　into　your　eyes。　I　would　have　you　the　Spanish　grandee　of　old
days；　cold；　ungracious；　haughty；　a　monument　to　be　gazed　at　from　afar；
like　the　ruins　of　some　barbaric　power；　which　no　one　ventures　to
explore。　Now；　you　have　nothing　better　to　do　than　to　open　up　pleasant
promenades　for　the　public；　and　show　yourself　of　a　Parisian　affability！

Is　my　ideal　portrait；　then；　forgotten？　Your　excessive　cheerfulness　was
redolent　of　your　love。　Had　it　not　been　for　a　restraining　glance　from
me；　you　would　have　proclaimed　to　the　most　sharp…sighted；　keen…witted；
and　unsparing　of　Paris　salons；　that　your　inspiration　was　drawn　from
Armande…Louise…Marie　de　Chaulieu。

I　believe　in　your　greatness　too　much　to　think　for　a　moment　that　your
love　is　ruled　by　policy；　but　if　you　did　not　show　a　childlike
simplicity　when　with　me；　I　could　only　pity　you。　Spite　of　this　first
fault；　you　are　still　deeply　admired　by
LOUISE　DE　CHAULIEU。



XXIII

FELIPE　TO　LOUISE

When　God　beholds　our　faults；　He　sees　also　our　repentance。　Yes；　my
beloved　mistress；　you　are　right。　I　felt　that　I　had　displeased　you；　but
knew　not　how。　Now　that　you　have　explained　the　cause　of　your　trouble；　I
find　in　it　fresh　motive　to　adore　you。　Like　the　God　of　Israel；　you　are
a　jealous　deity；　and　I　rejoice　to　see　it。　For　what　is　holier　and　more
precious　than　jealousy？　My　fair　guardian　angel；　jealousy　is　an　ever…
wakeful　sentinel；　it　is　to　love　what　pain　is　to　the　body；　the　faithful
herald　of　evil。　Be　jealous　of　your　servant；　Louise；　I　beg　of　you；　the
harder　you　strike；　the　more　contrite　will　he　be　and　kiss　the　rod；　in
all　submission；　which　proves　that　he　is　not　indifferent　to　you。

But；　alas！　dear；　if　the　pains　it　cost　me　to　vanquish　my　timidity　and
master　feelings　you　thought　so　feeble　were　invisible　to　you；　will
Heaven；　think　you；　reward　them？　I　assure　you；　it　needed　no　slight
effort　to　show　myself　to　you　as　I　was　in　the　days　before　I　loved。　At
Madrid　I　was　considered　a　good　talker；　and　I　wanted　you　to　see　for
yourself　the　few　gifts　I　may　possess。　If　this　were　vanity；　it　has　been
well　punished。

Your　last　glance　utterly　unnerved　me。　Never　had　I　so　quailed；　even
when　the　army　of　France　was　at　the　gates　of　Cadiz　and　I　read　peril　for
my　life　in　the　dissembling　words　of　my　royal　master。　Vainly　I　tried　to
discover　the　cause　of　your　displeasure；　and　the　lack　of　sympathy
between　us　which　this　fact　disclosed　was　terrible　to　me。　For　in　truth
I　have　no　wish　but　to　act　by　your　will；　think　your　thoughts；　see　with
your　eyes；　respond　to　your　joy　and　suffering；　as　my　body　responds　to
heat　and　cold。　The　crime　and　the　anguish　lay　for　me　in　the　breach　of
unison　in　that　common　life　of　feeling　which　you　have　made　so　fair。

〃I　have　vexed　her！〃　I　exclaimed　over　and　over　again；　like　one
distraught。　My　noble；　my　beautiful　Louise；　if　anything　could　increase
the　fervor　of　my　devotion　or　confirm　my　belief　in　your　delicate　moral
intuitions；　it　would　be　the　new　light　which　your　words　have　thrown
upon　my　own　feelings。　Much　in　them；　of　which　my　mind　was　formerly　but
dimly　conscious；　you　have　now　made　clear。　If　this　be　designed　as
chastisement；　what　can　be　the　sweetness　of　your　rewards？

Louise；　for　me　it　was　happiness　enough　to　be　accepted　as　your　servant。
You　have　given　me　the　life　of　which　I　despaired。　No　longer　do　I　draw　a
useless　breath；　I　have　something　to　spend　myself　for；　my　force　has　an
outlet；　if　only　in　suffering　for　you。　Once　more　I　say；　as　I　have　said
before；　that　you　will　never　find　me　other　than　I　was　when　first　I
offered　myself　as　your　lowly　bondman。　Yes；　were　you　dishonored　and
lost；　to　use　your　own　words；　my　heart　would　only　cling　the　more
closely　to　you　for　your　self…sought　misery。　It　would　be　my　care　to
staunch　your　wounds；　and　my　prayers　should　importune　God　with　the
story　of　your　innocence　and　your　wrongs。

Did　I　not　tell　you　that　the　feelings　of　my　heart　for　you　are　not　a
lover's　only；　that　I　will　be　to　you　father；　mother；　sister；　brother
ay；　a　whole　familyanything　or　nothing；　as　you　may　decree？　And　is　it
not　your　own　wish　which　has　confined　within　the　compass　of　a　lover's
feeling　so　many　varying　forms　of　devotion？　Pardon　me；　then；　if　at
times　the　father　and　brother　disappear　behind　the　lover；　since　you
know　they　are　none　the　less　there；　though　screened　from　view。　Would
that　you　could　read　the　feelings　of　my　heart　when　you　appear　before
me；　radiant　in　your　beauty；　the　centre　of　admiring　eyes；　reclining
calmly　in　your　carriage　in　the　Champs…Elysees；　or　seated　in　your　box
at　the　Opera！　Then　would　you　know　how　absolutely　free　from　selfish
taint　is　the　pride　with　which　I　hear　the　praises　of　your　loveliness
and　grace；　praises　which　warm　my　heart　even　to　the　strangers　who　utter
them！　When　by　chance　you　have　raised　me　to　elysium　by　a　friendly
greeting；　my　pride　is　mingled　with　humility；　and　I　depart　as　though
God's　blessing　rested　on　me。　Nor　does　the　joy　vanish　without　leaving　a
long　track　of　light　behind。　It　breaks　on　me　through　the　clouds　of　my
cigarette　smoke。　More　than　ever　do　I　feel　how　every　drop　of　this
surging　blood　throbs　for　you。

Can　you　be　ignorant　how　you　are　loved？　After　seeing　you；　I　return　to
my　study；　and　the　glitter　of　its　Saracenic　ornaments　sinks　to　nothing
before　the　brightness　of　your　portrait；　when　I　open　the　spring　that
keeps　it　locked　up　from　every　eye　and　lose　myself　in　endless　musings
or　link　my　happiness　to　verse。　From　the　heights　of　heaven　I　look　down
upon　the　course　of　a　life　such　as　my　hopes　dare　to　picture　it！　Have
you　never；　in　the　silence　of　the　night；　or　through　the　roar　of　the
town；　heard　the　whisper　of　a　voice　in　your　sweet；　dainty　ear？　Does　no
one　of　the　thousand　prayers　that　I　speed　to　you　reach　home？

By　dint　of　silent　contemplation　of　your　pictured　face；　I　have
succeeded　in　deciphering　the　expression　of　every　feature　and　tracing
its　connection　with　some　grace　of　the　spirit；　and　then　I　pen　a　sonnet
to　you　in　Spanish　on　the　harmony　of　the　twofold　beauty　in　which　nature
has　clothed　you。