第 3 节
作者:别克陆上公务舱      更新:2021-02-20 16:16      字数:9321
  contradict his apparent coldness; he could not refrain; at a moment
  when Perez turned his head to expectorate; from casting a rapid glance
  at the young girl; whose sparkling eyes met his。 Then; with that
  science of vision which gives to a libertine; as it does to a
  sculptor; the fatal power of disrobing; if we may so express it; a
  woman; and divining her shape by inductions both rapid and sagacious;
  he beheld one of those masterpieces of Nature whose creation appears
  to demand as its right all the happiness of love。 Here was a fair
  young face; on which the sun of Spain had cast faint tones of bistre
  which added to its expression of seraphic calmness a passionate pride;
  like a flash of light infused beneath that diaphanous complexion;
  due; perhaps; to the Moorish blood which vivified and colored it。 Her
  hair; raised to the top of her head; fell thence with black
  reflections round the delicate transparent ears and defined the
  outlines of a blue…veined throat。 These luxuriant locks brought into
  strong relief the dazzling eyes and the scarlet lips of a well…arched
  mouth。 The bodice of the country set off the lines of a figure that
  swayed as easily as a branch of willow。 She was not the Virgin of
  Italy; but the Virgin of Spain; of Murillo; the only artist daring
  enough to have painted the Mother of God intoxicated with the joy of
  conceiving the Christ;the glowing imagination of the boldest and
  also the warmest of painters。
  In this young girl three things were united; a single one of which
  would have sufficed for the glory of a woman: the purity of the pearl
  in the depths of ocean; the sublime exaltation of the Spanish Saint
  Teresa; and a passion of love which was ignorant of itself。 The
  presence of such a woman has the virtue of a talisman。 Montefiore no
  longer felt worn and jaded。 That young girl brought back his youthful
  freshness。
  But; though the apparition was delightful; it did not last。 The girl
  was taken back to the secret chamber; where the servant…woman carried
  to her openly both light and food。
  〃You do right to hide her;〃 said Montefiore in Italian。 〃I will keep
  your secret。 The devil! we have generals in our army who are capable
  of abducting her。〃
  Montefiore's infatuation went so far as to suggest to him the idea of
  marrying her。 He accordingly asked her history; and Perez very
  willingly told him the circumstances under which she had become his
  ward。 The prudent Spaniard was led to make this confidence because he
  had heard of Montefiore in Italy; and knowing his reputation was
  desirous to let him see how strong were the barriers which protected
  the young girl from the possibility of seduction。 Though the good…man
  was gifted with a certain patriarchal eloquence; in keeping with his
  simple life and customs; his tale will be improved by abridgment。
  At the period when the French Revolution changed the manners and
  morals of every country which served as the scene of its wars; a
  street prostitute came to Tarragona; driven from Venice at the time of
  its fall。 The life of this woman had been a tissue of romantic
  adventures and strange vicissitudes。 To her; oftener than to any other
  woman of her class; it had happened; thanks to the caprice of great
  lords struck with her extraordinary beauty; to be literally gorged
  with gold and jewels and all the delights of excessive wealth;
  flowers; carriages; pages; maids; palaces; pictures; journeys (like
  those of Catherine II。); in short; the life of a queen; despotic in
  her caprices and obeyed; often beyond her own imaginings。 Then;
  without herself; or any one; chemist; physician; or man of science;
  being able to discover how her gold evaporated; she would find herself
  back in the streets; poor; denuded of everything; preserving nothing
  but her all…powerful beauty; yet living on without thought or care of
  the past; the present; or the future。 Cast; in her poverty; into the
  hands of some poor gambling officer; she attached herself to him as a
  dog to its master; sharing the discomforts of the military life; which
  indeed she comforted; as content under the roof of a garret as beneath
  the silken hangings of opulence。 Italian and Spanish both; she
  fulfilled very scrupulously the duties of religion; and more than once
  she had said to love:
  〃Return to…morrow; to…day I belong to God。〃
  But this slime permeated with gold and perfumes; this careless
  indifference to all things; these unbridled passions; these religious
  beliefs cast into that heart like diamonds into mire; this life begun;
  and ended; in a hospital; these gambling chances transferred to the
  soul; to the very existence;in short; this great alchemy; for which
  vice lit the fire beneath the crucible in which fortunes were melted
  up and the gold of ancestors and the honor of great names evaporated;
  proceeded from a CAUSE; a particular heredity; faithfully transmitted
  from mother to daughter since the middle ages。 The name of this woman
  was La Marana。 In her family; existing solely in the female line; the
  idea; person; name and power of a father had been completely unknown
  since the thirteenth century。 The name Marana was to her what the
  designation of Stuart is to the celebrated royal race of Scotland; a
  name of distinction substituted for the patronymic name by the
  constant heredity of the same office devolving on the family。
  Formerly; in France; Spain; and Italy; when those three countries had;
  in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; mutual interests which
  united and disunited them by perpetual warfare; the name Marana served
  to express in its general sense; a prostitute。 In those days women of
  that sort had a certain rank in the world of which nothing in our day
  can give an idea。 Ninon de l'Enclos and Marian Delorme have alone
  played; in France; the role of the Imperias; Catalinas; and Maranas
  who; in preceding centuries; gathered around them the cassock; gown;
  and sword。 An Imperia built I forget which church in Rome in a frenzy
  of repentance; as Rhodope built; in earlier times; a pyramid in Egypt。
  The name Marana; inflicted at first as a disgrace upon the singular
  family with which we are now concerned; had ended by becoming its
  veritable name and by ennobling its vice by incontestable antiquity。
  One day; a day of opulence or of penury I know not which; for this
  event was a secret between herself and God; but assuredly it was in a
  moment of repentance and melancholy; this Marana of the nineteenth
  century stood with her feet in the slime and her head raised to
  heaven。 She cursed the blood in her veins; she cursed herself; she
  trembled lest she should have a daughter; and she swore; as such women
  swear; on the honor and with the will of the galleysthe firmest
  will; the most scrupulous honor that there is on earthshe swore;
  before an altar; and believing in that altar; to make her daughter a
  virtuous creature; a saint; and thus to gain; after that long line of
  lost women; criminals in love; an angel in heaven for them all。
  The vow once made; the blood of the Maranas spoke; the courtesan
  returned to her reckless life; a thought the more within her heart。 At
  last she loved; with the violent love of such women; as Henrietta
  Wilson loved Lord Ponsonby; as Mademoiselle Dupuis loved Bolingbroke;
  as the Marchesa Pescara loved her husbandbut no; she did not love;
  she adored one of those fair men; half women; to whom she gave the
  virtues which she had not; striving to keep for herself all that there
  was of vice between them。 It was from that weak man; that senseless
  marriage unblessed by God or man which happiness is thought to
  justify; but which no happiness absolves; and for which men blush at
  last; that she had a daughter; a daughter to save; a daughter for whom
  to desire a noble life and the chastity she had not。 Henceforth; happy
  or not happy; opulent or beggared; she had in her heart a pure;
  untainted sentiment; the highest of all human feelings because the
  most disinterested。 Love has its egotism; but motherhood has none。 La
  Marana was a mother like none other; for; in her total; her eternal
  shipwreck; motherhood might still redeem her。 To accomplish sacredly
  through life the task of sending a pure soul to heaven; was not that a
  better thing than a tardy repentance? was it not; in truth; the only
  spotless prayer which she could lift to God?
  So; when this daughter; when her Marie…Juana…Pepita (she would fain
  have given her all the saints in the calendar as guardians); when this
  dear little creature was granted to her; she became possessed of so
  high an idea of the dignity of motherhood that she entreated vice to
  grant her a respite。 She made herself virtuous and lived in solitude。
  No more fetes; no more orgies; no more love。 All joys; all fortunes
  were centred now in the cradle of her child。 The tones of that infant
  voice made an oasis for her soul in the burning sands of her
  existence。 That sentiment could not