第 13 节
作者:莫再讲      更新:2024-08-29 08:48      字数:9322
  been pre…eminently successful from the earliest ages of the world;
  there are in a long chain points of attachment needed where the
  cohesion is stronger than in the intermediate loops of rings。 This
  recognition between Rodolphe and Francesca; at this party; in the face
  of the world; was one of those intense moments which join the future
  to the past; and rivet a real attachment more deeply in the heart。 It
  was perhaps of these incidental rivets that Bossuet spoke when he
  compared to them the rarity of happy moments in our liveshe who had
  such a living and secret experience of love。
  Next to the pleasure of admiring the woman we love; comes that of
  seeing her admired by every one else。 Rodolphe was enjoying both at
  once。 Love is a treasury of memories; and though Rodolphe's was
  already full; he added to it pearls of great price; smiles shed aside
  for him alone; stolen glances; tones in her singing which Francesca
  addressed to him alone; but which made Tinti pale with jealousy; they
  were so much applauded。 All his strength of desire; the special
  expression of his soul; was thrown over the beautiful Roman; who
  became unchangeably the beginning and the end of all his thoughts and
  actions。 Rodolphe loved as every woman may dream of being loved; with
  a force; a constancy; a tenacity; which made Francesca the very
  substance of his heart; he felt her mingling with his blood as purer
  blood; with his soul as a more perfect soul; she would henceforth
  underlie the least efforts of his life as the golden sand of the
  Mediterranean lies beneath the waves。 In short; Rodolphe's lightest
  aspiration was now a living hope。
  At the end of a few days; Francesca understood this boundless love;
  but it was so natural; and so perfectly shared by her; that it did not
  surprise her。 She was worthy of it。
  〃What is there that is strange?〃 said she to Rodolphe; as they walked
  on the garden terrace; when he had been betrayed into one of those
  outbursts of conceit which come so naturally to Frenchmen in the
  expression of their feelings〃what is extraordinary in the fact of
  your loving a young and beautiful woman; artist enough to be able to
  earn her living like Tinti; and of giving you some of the pleasures of
  vanity? What lout but would then become an Amadis? This is not in
  question between you and me。 What is needed is that we both love
  faithfully; persistently; at a distance from each other for years;
  with no satisfaction but that of knowing that we are loved。〃
  〃Alas!〃 said Rodolphe; 〃will you not consider my fidelity as devoid of
  all merit when you see me absorbed in the efforts of devouring
  ambition? Do you imagine that I can wish to see you one day exchange
  the fine name of Gandolphini for that of a man who is a nobody? I want
  to become one of the most remarkable men of my country; to be rich;
  greatthat you may be as proud of my name as of your own name of
  Colonna。〃
  〃I should be grieved to see you without such sentiments in your
  heart;〃 she replied; with a bewitching smile。 〃But do not wear
  yourself out too soon in your ambitious labors。 Remain young。 They say
  that politics soon make a man old。〃
  One of the rarest gifts in women is a certain gaiety which does not
  detract from tenderness。 This combination of deep feeling with the
  lightness of youth added an enchanting grace at this moment to
  Francesca's charms。 This is the key to her character; she laughs and
  she is touched; she becomes enthusiastic; and returns to arch raillery
  with a readiness; a facility; which makes her the charming and
  exquisite creature she is; and for which her reputation is known
  outside Italy。 Under the graces of a woman she conceals vast learning;
  thanks to the excessively monotonous and almost monastic life she led
  in the castle of the old Colonnas。
  This rich heiress was at first intended for the cloister; being the
  fourth child of Prince and Princess Colonna; but the death of her two
  brothers; and of her elder sister; suddenly brought her out of her
  retirement; and made her one of the most brilliant matches in the
  Papal States。 Her elder sister had been betrothed to Prince
  Gandolphini; one of the richest landowners in Sicily; and Francesca
  was married to him instead; so that nothing might be changed in the
  position of the family。 The Colonnas and Gandolphinis had always
  intermarried。
  From the age of nine till she was sixteen; Francesca; under the
  direction of a Cardinal of the family; had read all through the
  library of the Colonnas; to make weight against her ardent imagination
  by studying science; art; and letters。 But in these studies she
  acquired the taste for independence and liberal ideas; which threw
  her; with her husband; into the ranks of the revolution。 Rodolphe had
  not yet learned that; besides five living languages; Francesca knew
  Greek; Latin; and Hebrew。 The charming creature perfectly understood
  that; for a woman; the first condition of being learned is to keep it
  deeply hidden。
  Rodolphe spent the whole winter at Geneva。 This winter passed like a
  day。 When spring returned; notwithstanding the infinite delights of
  the society of a clever woman; wonderfully well informed; young and
  lovely; the lover went through cruel sufferings; endured indeed with
  courage; but which were sometimes legible in his countenance; and
  betrayed themselves in his manners or speech; perhaps because he
  believed that Francesca shared them。 Now and again it annoyed him to
  admire her calmness。 Like an Englishwoman; she seemed to pride herself
  on expressing nothing in her face; its serenity defied love; he longed
  to see her agitated; he accused her of having no feeling; for he
  believed in the tradition which ascribes to Italian women a feverish
  excitability。
  〃I am a Roman!〃 Francesca gravely replied one day when she took quite
  seriously some banter on this subject from Rodolphe。
  There was a depth of tone in her reply which gave it the appearance of
  scathing irony; and which set Rodolphe's pulses throbbing。 The month
  of May spread before them the treasures of her fresh verdure; the sun
  was sometimes as powerful as at midsummer。 The two lovers happened to
  be at a part of the terrace where the rock arises abruptly from the
  lake; and were leaning over the stone parapet that crowns the wall
  above a flight of steps leading down to a landing…stage。 From the
  neighboring villa; where there is a similar stairway; a boat presently
  shot out like a swan; its flag flaming; its crimson awning spread over
  a lovely woman comfortably reclining on red cushions; her hair
  wreathed with real flowers; the boatman was a young man dressed like a
  sailor; and rowing with all the more grace because he was under the
  lady's eye。
  〃They are happy!〃 exclaimed Rodolphe; with bitter emphasis。 〃Claire de
  Bourgogne; the last survivor of the only house which can ever vie with
  the royal family of France〃
  〃Oh! of a bastard branch; and that a female line。〃
  〃At any rate; she is Vicomtesse de Beauseant; and she did not〃
  〃Did not hesitate; you would say; to bury herself here with Monsieur
  Gaston de Nueil; you would say;〃 replied the daughter of the Colonnas。
  〃She is only a Frenchwoman; I am an Italian; my dear sir!〃
  Francesca turned away from the parapet; leaving Rodolphe; and went to
  the further end of the terrace; whence there is a wide prospect of the
  lake。 Watching her as she slowly walked away; Rodolphe suspected that
  he had wounded her soul; at once so simple and so wise; so proud and
  so humble。 It turned him cold; he followed Francesca; who signed to
  him to leave her to herself。 But he did not heed the warning; and
  detected her wiping away her tears。 Tears! in so strong a nature。
  〃Francesca;〃 said he; taking her hand; 〃is there a single regret in
  your heart?〃
  She was silent; disengaged her hand which held her embroidered
  handkerchief; and again dried her eyes。
  〃Forgive me!〃 he said。 And with a rush; he kissed her eyes to wipe
  away the tears。
  Francesca did not seem aware of his passionate impulse; she was so
  violently agitated。 Rodolphe; thinking she consented; grew bolder; he
  put his arm round her; clasped her to his heart; and snatched a kiss。
  But she freed herself by a dignified movement of offended modesty;
  and; standing a yard off; she looked at him without anger; but with
  firm determination。
  〃Go this evening;〃 she said。 〃We meet no more till we meet at Naples。〃
  This order was stern; but it was obeyed; for it was Francesca's will。
  On his return to Paris Rodolphe found in his rooms a portrait of
  Princess Gandolphini painted by Schinner; as Schinner can paint。 The
  artist had passed through Geneva on his way to Italy。 As he had
  positively refused to paint the portraits of several women; Rodolphe
  did not believe that the Prince; anxious as he was for a portrait of
  his wife; would be able to conquer the great painter's objections; but
  Francesca; no doubt; had bewitched him; and obtained from himwhich
  was almost a miraclean original portrait for Rodolphe; and a
  duplicate for Emilio。 She told him this in a charming and delightful
  letter; in which the mind indemnified itself for the reserve required
  by the worship of the proprieties。 The lover replied。 Thus be