第 8 节
作者:
想聊 更新:2021-02-19 01:11 字数:9322
as to the pencil。 A soft down faintly showed upon her cheeks and on
the outline of her throat; catching the light which made it silken。
Her little ears; perfect in shape; were; as she said herself; the ears
of a mother and a slave。 In after days; when our hearts were one; she
would say to me; 〃Here comes Monsieur de Mortsauf〃; and she was right;
though I; whose hearing is remarkably acute; could hear nothing。
Her arms were beautiful。 The curved fingers of the hand were long; and
the flesh projected at the side beyond the finger…nails; like those of
antique statues。 I should displease you; I know; if you were not
yourself an exception to my rule; when I say that flat waists should
have the preference over round ones。 The round waist is a sign of
strength; but women thus formed are imperious; self…willed; and more
voluptuous than tender。 On the other hand; women with flat waists are
devoted in soul; delicately perceptive; inclined to sadness; more
truly woman than the other class。 The flat waist is supple and
yielding; the round waist is inflexible and jealous。
You now know how she was made。 She had the foot of a well…bred woman;
the foot that walks little; is quickly tired; and delights the eye
when it peeps beneath the dress。 Though she was the mother of two
children; I have never met any woman so truly a young girl as she。 Her
whole air was one of simplicity; joined to a certain bashful
dreaminess which attracted others; just as a painter arrests our steps
before a figure into which his genius has conveyed a world of
sentiment。 If you recall the pure; wild fragrance of the heath we
gathered on our return from the Villa Diodati; the flower whose tints
of black and rose you praised so warmly; you can fancy how this woman
could be elegant though remote from the social world; natural in
expression; fastidious in all things which became part of herself;in
short; like the heath of mingled colors。 Her body had the freshness we
admire in the unfolding leaf; her spirit the clear conciseness of the
aboriginal mind; she was a child by feeling; grave through suffering;
the mistress of a household; yet a maiden too。 Therefore she charmed
artlessly and unconsciously; by her way of sitting down or rising; of
throwing in a word or keeping silence。 Though habitually collected;
watchful as the sentinel on whom the safety of others depends and who
looks for danger; there were moments when smiles would wreathe her
lips and betray the happy nature buried beneath the saddened bearing
that was the outcome of her life。 Her gift of attraction was
mysterious。 Instead of inspiring the gallant attentions which other
women seek; she made men dream; letting them see her virginal nature
of pure flame; her celestial visions; as we see the azure heavens
through rifts in the clouds。 This involuntary revelation of her being
made others thoughtful。 The rarity of her gestures; above all; the
rarity of her glancesfor; excepting her children; she seldom looked
at any onegave a strange solemnity to all she said and did when her
words or actions seemed to her to compromise her dignity。
On this particular morning Madame de Mortsauf wore a rose…colored gown
patterned in tiny stripes; a collar with a wide hem; a black belt; and
little boots of the same hue。 Her hair was simply twisted round her
head; and held in place by a tortoise…shell comb。 Such; my dear
Natalie; is the imperfect sketch I promised you。 But the constant
emanation of her soul upon her family; that nurturing essence shed in
floods around her as the sun emits its light; her inward nature; her
cheerfulness on days serene; her resignation on stormy ones;all
those variations of expression by which character is displayed depend;
like the effects in the sky; on unexpected and fugitive circumstances;
which have no connection with each other except the background against
which they rest; though all are necessarily mingled with the events of
this history;truly a household epic; as great to the eyes of a wise
man as a tragedy to the eyes of the crowd; an epic in which you will
feel an interest; not only for the part I took in it; but for the
likeness that it bears to the destinies of so vast a number of women。
Everything at Clochegourde bore signs of a truly English cleanliness。
The room in which the countess received us was panelled throughout and
painted in two shades of gray。 The mantelpiece was ornamented with a
clock inserted in a block of mahogany and surmounted with a tazza; and
two large vases of white porcelain with gold lines; which held bunches
of Cape heather。 A lamp was on a pier…table; and a backgammon board on
legs before the fireplace。 Two wide bands of cotton held back the
white cambric curtains; which had no fringe。 The furniture was covered
with gray cotton bound with a green braid; and the tapestry on the
countess's frame told why the upholstery was thus covered。 Such
simplicity rose to grandeur。 No apartment; among all that I have seen
since; has given me such fertile; such teeming impressions as those
that filled my mind in that salon of Clochegourde; calm and composed
as the life of its mistress; where the conventual regularity of her
occupations made itself felt。 The greater part of my ideas in science
or politics; even the boldest of them; were born in that room; as
perfumes emanate from flowers; there grew the mysterious plant that
cast upon my soul its fructifying pollen; there glowed the solar
warmth which developed my good and shrivelled my evil qualities。
Through the windows the eye took in the valley from the heights of
Pont…de…Ruan to the chateau d'Azay; following the windings of the
further shore; picturesquely varied by the towers of Frapesle; the
church; the village; and the old manor…house of Sache; whose venerable
pile looked down upon the meadows。
In harmony with this reposeful life; and without other excitements to
emotion than those arising in the family; this scene conveyed to the
soul its own serenity。 If I had met her there for the first time;
between the count and her two children; instead of seeing her
resplendent in a ball dress; I should not have ravished that delirious
kiss; which now filled me with remorse and with the fear of having
lost the future of my love。 No; in the gloom of my unhappy life I
should have bent my knee and kissed the hem of her garment; wetting it
with tears; and then I might have flung myself into the Indre。 But
having breathed the jasmine perfume of her skin and drunk the milk of
that cup of love; my soul had acquired the knowledge and the hope of
human joys; I would live and await the coming of happiness as the
savage awaits his hour of vengeance; I longed to climb those trees; to
creep among the vines; to float in the river; I wanted the
companionship of night and its silence; I needed lassitude of body; I
craved the heat of the sun to make the eating of the delicious apple
into which I had bitten perfect。 Had she asked of me the singing
flower; the riches buried by the comrades of Morgan the destroyer; I
would have sought them; to obtain those other riches and that mute
flower for which I longed。
When my dream; the dream into which this first contemplation of my
idol plunged me; came to an end and I heard her speaking of Monsieur
de Mortsauf; the thought came that a woman must belong to her husband;
and a raging curiosity possessed me to see the owner of this treasure。
Two emotions filled my mind; hatred and fear;hatred which allowed of
no obstacles and measured all without shrinking; and a vague; but real
fear of the struggle; of its issue; and above all of HER。
〃Here is Monsieur de Mortsauf;〃 she said。
I sprang to my feet like a startled horse。 Though the movement was
seen by Monsieur de Chessel and the countess; neither made any
observation; for a diversion was effected at this moment by the
entrance of a little girl; whom I took to be about six years old; who
came in exclaiming; 〃Here's papa!〃
〃Madeleine?〃 said her mother; gently。
The child at once held out her hand to Monsieur de Chessel; and looked
attentively at me after making a little bow with an air of
astonishment。
〃Are you more satisfied about her health?〃 asked Monsieur de Chessel。
〃She is better;〃 replied the countess; caressing the little head which
was already nestling in her lap。
The next question of Monsieur de Chessel let me know that Madeleine
was nine years old; I showed great surprise; and immediately the
clouds gathered on the mother's brow。 My companion threw me a
significant look;one of those which form the education of men of the
world。 I had stumbled no doubt upon some maternal wound the covering
of which should have been respected。 The sickly child; whose eyes were
pallid and whose skin was white as a porcelain vase with a light
within it; would probably not have lived in the atmosphere of a city。
Country air and her mother's