the lily of the valley-第22章

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Though　the　count's　words　made　me　blush；　more　for　him　than　for

Henriette；　they　stirred　my　heart　violently；　for　they　appealed　to　the

sense　of　chastity　and　delicacy　which　is　indeed　the　very　warp　and　woof

of　first　love。



〃She　is　virgin　at　my　expense；〃　cried　the　count。



At　these　words　the　countess　cried　out；　〃Monsieur！〃



〃What　do　you　mean　with　your　imperious　'Monsieur！'〃　he　shouted。　〃Am　I

not　your　master？　Must　I　teach　you　that　I　am？〃



He　came　towards　her；　thrusting　forward　his　white　wolf's　head；　now

hideous；　for　his　yellow　eyes　had　a　savage　expression　which　made　him

look　like　a　wild　beast　rushing　out　of　a　wood。　Henriette　slid　from　her

chair　to　the　ground　to　avoid　a　blow；　which　however　was　not　given；　she

lay　at　full　length　on　the　floor　and　lost　consciousness；　completely

exhausted。　The　count　was　like　a　murderer　who　feels　the　blood　of　his

victim　spurting　in　his　face；　he　stopped　short；　bewildered。　I　took　the

poor　woman　in　my　arms；　and　the　count　let　me　take　her；　as　though　he

felt　unworthy　to　touch　her；　but　he　went　before　me　to　open　the　door　of

her　bedroom　next　the　salon；a　sacred　room　I　had　never　entered。　I　put

the　countess　on　her　feet　and　held　her　for　a　moment　in　one　arm；　passing

the　other　round　her　waist；　while　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf　took　the　eider…

down　coverlet　from　the　bed；　then　together　we　lifted　her　and　laid　her；

still　dressed；　on　the　bed。　When　she　came　to　herself　she　motioned　to　us

to　unfasten　her　belt。　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf　found　a　pair　of　scissors；

and　cut　through　it；　I　made　her　breathe　salts；　and　she　opened　her　eyes。

The　count　left　the　room；　more　ashamed　than　sorry。　Two　hours　passed　in

perfect　silence。　Henriette's　hand　lay　in　mine；　she　pressed　it　to　mine；

but　could　not　speak。　From　time　to　time　she　opened　her　eyes　as　if　to

tell　me　by　a　look　that　she　wished　to　be　still　and　silent；　then

suddenly；　for　an　instant；　there　seemed　a　change；　she　rose　on　her　elbow

and　whispered；　〃Unhappy　man！ah！　if　you　did　but　know〃



She　fell　back　upon　the　pillow。　The　remembrance　of　her　past　sufferings；

joined　to　the　present　shock；　threw　her　again　into　the　nervous

convulsions　I　had　just　calmed　by　the　magnetism　of　love；a　power　then

unknown　to　me；　but　which　I　used　instinctively。　I　held　her　with　gentle

force；　and　she　gave　me　a　look　which　made　me　weep。　When　the　nervous

motions　ceased　I　smoothed　her　disordered　hair；　the　first　and　only　time

that　I　ever　touched　it；　then　I　again　took　her　hand　and　sat　looking　at

the　room；　all　brown　and　gray；　at　the　bed　with　its　simple　chintz

curtains；　at　the　toilet　table　draped　in　a　fashion　now　discarded；　at

the　commonplace　sofa　with　its　quilted　mattress。　What　poetry　I　could

read　in　that　room！　What　renunciations　of　luxury　for　herself；　the　only

luxury　being　its　spotless　cleanliness。　Sacred　cell　of　a　married　nun；

filled　with　holy　resignation；　its　sole　adornments　were　the　crucifix　of

her　bed；　and　above　it　the　portrait　of　her　aunt；　then；　on　each　side　of

the　holy　water　basin；　two　drawings　of　the　children　made　by　herself；

with　locks　of　their　hair　when　they　were　little。　What　a　retreat　for　a

woman　whose　appearance　in　the　great　world　of　fashion　would　have　made

the　handsomest　of　her　sex　jealous！　Such　was　the　chamber　where　the

daughter　of　an　illustrious　family　wept　out　her　days；　sunken　at　this

moment　in　anguish；　and　denying　herself　the　love　that　might　have

comforted　her。　Hidden；　irreparable　woe！　Tears　of　the　victim　for　her

slayer；　tears　of　the　slayer　for　his　victim！　When　the　children　and

waiting…woman　came　at　length　into　the　room　I　left　it。　The　count　was

waiting　for　me；　he　seemed　to　seek　me　as　a　mediating　power　between

himself　and　his　wife。　He　caught　my　hands；　exclaiming；　〃Stay；　stay　with

us；　Felix！〃



〃Unfortunately；〃　I　said；　〃Monsieur　de　Chessel　has　a　party；　and　my

absence　would　cause　remark。　But　after　dinner　I　will　return。〃



He　left　the　house　when　I　did；　and　took　me　to　the　lower　gate　without

speaking；　then　he　accompanied　me　to　Frapesle；　seeming　not　to　know　what

he　was　doing。　At　last　I　said　to　him；　〃For　heaven's　sake；　Monsieur　le

comte；　let　her　manage　your　affairs　if　it　pleases　her；　and　don't

torment　her。〃



〃I　have　not　long　to　live；〃　he　said　gravely；　〃she　will　not　suffer　long

through　me；　my　head　is　giving　way。〃



He　left　me　in　a　spasm　of　involuntary　self…pity。　After　dinner　I

returned　for　news　of　Madame　de　Mortsauf；　who　was　already　better。　If

such　were　the　joys　of　marriage；　if　such　scenes　were　frequent；　how

could　she　survive　them　long？　What　slow；　unpunished　murder　was　this？

During　that　day　I　understood　the　tortures　by　which　the　count　was

wearing　out　his　wife。　Before　what　tribunal　can　we　arraign　such　crimes？

These　thoughts　stunned　me；　I　could　say　nothing　to　Henriette　by　word　of

mouth；　but　I　spent　the　night　in　writing　to　her。　Of　the　three　or　four

letters　that　I　wrote　I　have　kept　only　the　beginning　of　one；　with　which

I　was　not　satisfied。　Here　it　is；　for　though　it　seems　to　me　to　express

nothing；　and　to　speak　too　much　of　myself　when　I　ought　only　to　have

thought　of　her；　it　will　serve　to　show　you　the　state　my　soul　was　in：



　　To　Madame　de　Mortsauf：



　　How　many　things　I　had　to　say　to　you　when　I　reached　the　house！　I

　　thought　of　them　on　the　way；　but　I　forgot　them　in　your　presence。

　　Yes；　when　I　see　you；　dear　Henriette；　I　find　my　thoughts　no　longer

　　in　keeping　with　the　light　from　your　soul　which　heightens　your

　　beauty；　then；　too；　the　happiness　of　being　near　you　is　so　ineffable

　　as　to　efface　all　other　feelings。　Each　time　we　meet　I　am　born　into

　　a　broader　life；　I　am　like　the　traveller　who　climbs　a　rock　and　sees

　　before　him　a　new　horizon。　Each　time　you　talk　with　me　I　add　new

　　treasures　to　my　treasury。　There　lies；　I　think；　the　secret　of　long

　　and　inexhaustible　affections。　I　can　only　speak　to　you　of　yourself

　　when　away　from　you。　In　your　presence　I　am　too　dazzled　to　see；　too

　　happy　to　question　my　happiness；　too　full　of　you　to　be　myself；　too

　　eloquent　through　you　to　speak；　too　eager　in　seizing　the　present

　　moment　to　remember　the　past。　You　must　think　of　this　state　of

　　intoxication　and　forgive　me　its　consequent　mistakes。



　　When　near　you　I　can　only　feel。　Yet；　I　have　courage　to　say；　dear

　　Henriette；　that　never；　in　all　the　many　joys　you　have　given　me；

　　never　did　I　taste　such　joy　as　filled　my　soul　when；　after　that

　　dreadful　storm　through　which　you　struggled　with　superhuman

　　courage；　you　came　to　yourself　alone　with　me；　in　the　twilight　of

　　your　chamber　where　that　unhappy　scene　had　brought　me。　I　alone

　　know　the　light　that　shines　from　a　woman　when　through　the　portals

　　of　death　she　re…enters　life　with　the　dawn　of　a　rebirth　tinting　her

　　brow。　What　harmonies　were　in　your　voice！　How　words；　even　your

　　words；　seemed　paltry　when　the　sound　of　that　adored　voicein

　　itself　the　echo　of　past　pains　mingled　with　divine　consolations

　　blessed　me　with　the　gift　of　your　first　thought。　I　knew　you　were

　　brilliant　with　all　human　splendor；　but　yesterday　I　found　a　new

　　Henriette；　who　might　be　mine　if　God　so　willed；　I　beheld　a　spirit

　　freed　from　the　bodily　trammels　which　repress　the　ardors　of　the

　　soul。　Ah！　thou　wert　beautiful　indeed　in　thy　weakness；　majestic　in

　　thy　prostration。　Yesterday　I　found　something　more　beautiful　than

　　thy　beauty；　sweeter　than　thy　voice；　lights　more　sparkling　than　the

　　light　of　thine　eyes；　perfumes　for　which　there　are　no　words

　　yesterday　thy　soul　was　visible　and　palpable。　Would　I　could　have

　　opened　my　heart　and　made　thee　live　there！　Yesterday　I　lost　the

　　respectful　timidity　with　which　thy　presence　inspires　me；　thy

　　weakness　brought　us　nearer　together。　Then；　when　the　crisis　passed

　　and　thou　couldst　bear　our　atmosphere　once　more；　I　knew　what　it　was

　　to　breathe　in　unison　with　thy　breath。　How　many　prayers　rose　up　to

　　heaven　in　that　moment！　Since　I　did　not　die　as　I　rushed　through

　　space　to　ask　of　God　that　he　would　leave　thee　with　me；　no　human

　　creature　can　die　of　joy　nor　yet　of　sorrow。　That　moment　has　left

　　memories　buried　in　my　soul　which　never　again　will　reappear　upon

　　its　surface　and　leave　me　tearless。　Yes；　the　fears　with　which　my

　　soul　was　tortured　yesterday　are　incomparably　greater　than　all

　　sorrows　that　the　future　can　bring　upon　me；　just　as　the　joys　which

　　thou　hast　given　me；　dear　eternal　thought　of　my　life！　will　be

　　forever　greater　than　any　future　joy　God　may　be　pleased　to　grant

　　me。　Thou　hast　made　me　comprehend　the　love　divine；　that　sure　love；

　　sure　in　strength　and　in　duration；　that　knows　no　doubt　or　jealousy。



Deepest　melancholy　gnawed　my　soul；　the　glimpse　into　that　hidden　life

was　agonizing　to　a　young　heart　new　to　social　emotions；　it　was　an　awful

thing　to　find　this　abyss　at　the　opening　of　life；a　bottomless　abyss；

a　Dead　Sea。　This　dreadful　aggregation　of　misfortunes　suggested　many

thoughts；　at　my　first　step　into　social　life　I　found　a　standard　of

comparison　by　which　all　other　events　and　circumstances　must　seem

petty。



The　next　day　when　I　entered　the　salon　she　was　there　alone。　She　looked

at　me　for　a　moment；　held　out　her　hand；　and　said；　〃My　friend　is　always

too　tender。〃　Her　eyes　grew　moist；　she　rose；　and　then　she　added；　in　a

tone　of　desperate　entreaty；　〃Never　write　thus　to　me　again。〃



Monsieur　de　Mortsauf　was　very　kind。　The　countess　had　recovered　her

courage　and　serenity；　but　her　pallor　betrayed　the　sufferings　of　the

previous　night；　which　were　calmed；　but　not　extinguished。　That　evening

she　said　to　me；　as　she　paced　among　the　autumn　leaves　which　rustled

beneath　our　footsteps；　〃Sorrow　is　infinite；　joys　are　limited；〃words

which　betrayed　her　sufferings　by　the　comparison　she　made　with　the

fleeting　delights　of　the　previous　week。



〃Do　not　slander　life；〃　I　said　to　her。　〃You　are　ignorant　of　love；　love

gives　happiness　which　shines　in　heaven。〃



〃Hush！〃　she　said。　〃I　wish　to　know　nothing　of　it。　The　Icelander　would

die　in　Italy。　I　am　calm　and　happy　beside　you；　I　can　tell　you　all　my

thoughts；　do　not　destroy　my　confidence。　Why　will　you　not　combine　the

virtue　of　the　priest　with　the　charm　of　a　free　man。〃



〃You　make　me　drink　the　hemlock！〃　I　cried；　taking　her　hand　and　laying

it　on　my　heart；　which　was　beating　fast。



〃Again！〃　she　said；　withdrawing　her　hand　as　if　it　pained　her。　〃Are　you

determined　to　deny　me　the　sad　comfort　of　letting　my　wounds　be　stanched

by　a　friendly　hand？　Do　not　add　to　my　sufferings；　you　do　not　know　them

all；　those　that　are　hidden　are　the　worst　to　bear。　If　you　were　a　woman

you　would　know　the　melancholy　disgust　that　fills　her　soul　when　she

sees　herself　the　object　of　attentions　which　atone　for　nothing；　but　are

thought　to　atone　for　all。　For　the　next　few　days　I　shall　be　courted　and

caressed；　that　I　may　pardon　the　wrong　that　has　been　done。　I　could　then

obtain　consent　to　any　wish　of　mine；　however　unreasonable。　I　am

humiliated　by　his　humility；　by　caresses　which　will　cease　as　soon　as　he

imagines　that　I　have　forgotten　that　scene。　To　owe　our　master's　good

graces　to　his　faults〃



〃His　crimes！〃　I　interrupted