the lily of the valley-第60节

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〃Felix；〃　she　said；　〃I　may　have　done　something　wrong　to　you。　Often　I

gave　you　pain　by　letting　you　hope　for　that　I　could　not　give　you；　but

see；　it　was　that　very　courage　of　wife　and　mother　that　now　enables　me

to　die　forgiven　of　all。　You　will　forgive　me　too；　you　who　have　so　often

blamed　me；　and　whose　injustice　was　so　dear〃



The　Abbe　Birotteau　laid　a　finger　on　his　lips。　At　that　sign　the　dying

woman　bowed　her　head；　faintness　overcame　her；　presently　she　waved　her

hands　as　if　summoning　the　clergy　and　her　children　and　the　servants　to

her　presence；　and　then；　with　an　imploring　gesture；　she　showed　me　the

desolate　count　and　the　children　beside　him。　The　sight　of　that　father；

the　secret　of　whose　insanity　was　known　to　us　alone；　now　to　be　left

sole　guardian　of　those　delicate　beings；　brought　mute　entreaties　to　her

face；　which　fell　upon　my　heart　like　sacred　fire。　Before　receiving

extreme　unction　she　asked　pardon　of　her　servants　if　by　a　hasty　word

she　had　sometimes　hurt　them；　she　asked　their　prayers　and　commended

each　one；　individually；　to　the　count；　she　nobly　confessed　that　during

the　last　two　months　she　had　uttered　complaints　that　were　not　Christian

and　might　have　shocked　them；　she　had　repulsed　her　children　and　clung

to　life　unworthily；　but　she　attributed　this　failure　of　submission　to

the　will　of　God　to　her　intolerable　sufferings。　Finally；　she　publicly

thanked　the　Abbe　Birotteau　with　heartfelt　warmth　for　having　shown　her

the　illusion　of　all　earthly　things。



When　she　ceased　to　speak；　prayers　were　said　again；　and　the　curate　of

Sache　gave　her　the　viaticum。　A　few　moments　later　her　breathing　became

difficult；　a　film　overspread　her　eyes；　but　soon　they　cleared　again；

she　gave　me　a　last　look　and　died　to　the　eyes　of　earth；　hearing　perhaps

the　symphony　of　our　sobs。　As　her　last　sigh　issued　from　her　lips；the

effort　of　a　life　that　was　one　long　anguish；I　felt　a　blow　within　me

that　struck　on　all　my　faculties。　The　count　and　I　remained　beside　the

bier　all　night　with　the　two　abbes　and　the　curate；　watching；　in　the

glimmer　of　the　tapers；　the　body　of　the　departed；　now　so　calm；　laid

upon　the　mattress　of　her　bed；　where　once　she　had　suffered　cruelly。　It

was　my　first　communion　with　death。　I　remained　the　whole　of　that　night

with　my　eyes　fixed　on　Henriette；　spell…bound　by　the　pure　expression

that　came　from　the　stilling　of　all　tempests；　by　the　whiteness　of　that

face　where　still　I　saw　the　traces　of　her　innumerable　affections；

although　it　made　no　answer　to　my　love。　What　majesty　in　that　silence；

in　that　coldness！　How　many　thoughts　they　expressed！　What　beauty　in

that　cold　repose；　what　power　in　that　immobility！　All　the　past　was

there　and　futurity　had　begun。　Ah！　I　loved　her　dead　as　much　as　I　had

loved　her　living。　In　the　morning　the　count　went　to　bed；　the　three

wearied　priests　fell　asleep　in　that　heavy　hour　of　dawn　so　well　known

to　those　who　watch。　I　could　then；　without　witnesses；　kiss　that　sacred

brow　with　all　the　love　I　had　never　been　allowed　to　utter。



The　third　day；　in　a　cool　autumn　morning；　we　followed　the　countess　to

her　last　home。　She　was　carried　by　the　old　huntsman；　the　two

Martineaus；　and　Manette's　husband。　We　went　down　by　the　road　I　had　so

joyously　ascended　the　day　I　first　returned　to　her。　We　crossed　the

valley　of　the　Indre　to　the　little　cemetery　of　Sachea　poor　village

graveyard；　placed　behind　the　church　on　the　slope　of　the　hill；　where

with　true　humility　she　had　asked　to　be　buried　beneath　a　simple　cross

of　black　wood；　〃like　a　poor　country…woman；〃　she　said。　When　I　saw；　from

the　centre　of　the　valley；　the　village　church　and　the　place　of　the

graveyard　a　convulsive　shudder　seized　me。　Alas！　we　have　all　our

Golgothas；　where　we　leave　the　first　thirty…three　years　of　our　lives；

with　the　lance…wound　in　our　side；　the　crown　of　thorns　and　not　of　roses

on　our　browthat　hill…slope　was　to　me　the　mount　of　expiation。



We　were　followed　by　an　immense　crowd；　seeking　to　express　the　grief　of

the　valley　where　she　had　silently　buried　so　many　noble　actions。

Manette；　her　faithful　woman；　told　me　that　when　her　savings　did　not

suffice　to　help　the　poor　she　economized　upon　her　dress。　There　were

babes　to　be　provided　for；　naked　children　to　be　clothed；　mothers

succored　in　their　need；　sacks　of　flour　brought　to　the　millers　in

winter　for　helpless　old　men；　a　cow　sent　to　some　poor　home；deeds　of　a

Christian　woman；　a　mother；　and　the　lady　of　the　manor。　Besides　these

things；　there　were　dowries　paid　to　enable　loving　hearts　to　marry；

substitutes　bought　for　youths　to　whom　the　draft　had　brought　despair；

tender　offerings　of　the　loving　woman　who　had　said：　〃The　happiness　of

others　is　the　consolation　of　those　who　cannot　themselves　be　happy。〃

Such　things；　related　at　the　〃veillees；〃　made　the　crowd　immense。　I

walked　with　Jacques　and　the　two　abbes　behind　the　coffin。　According　to

custom　neither　the　count　nor　Madeleine　were　present；　they　remained

alone　at　Clochegourde。　But　Manette　insisted　in　coming　with　us。　〃Poor

madame！　poor　madame！　she　is　happy　now；〃　I　heard　her　saying　to　herself

amid　her　sobs。



As　the　procession　left　the　road　to　the　mills　I　heard　a　simultaneous

moan　and　a　sound　of　weeping　as　though　the　valley　were　lamenting　for

its　soul。　The　church　was　filled　with　people。　After　the　service　was

over　we　went　to　the　graveyard　where　she　wished　to　be　buried　near　the

cross。　When　I　heard　the　pebbles　and　the　gravel　falling　upon　the　coffin

my　courage　gave　way；　I　staggered　and　asked　the　two　Martineaus　to

steady　me。　They　took　me；　half…dead；　to　the　chateau　of　Sache；　where　the

owners　very　kindly　invited　me　to　stay；　and　I　accepted。　I　will　own　to

you　that　I　dreaded　a　return　to　Clochegourde；　and　it　was　equally

repugnant　to　me　to　go　to　Frapesle；　where　I　could　see　my　Henriette's

windows。　Here；　at　Sache；　I　was　near　her。　I　lived　for　some　days　in　a

room　which　looked　on　the　tranquil；　solitary　valley　I　have　mentioned　to

you。　It　is　a　deep　recess　among　the　hills；　bordered　by　oaks　that　are

doubly　centenarian；　through　which　a　torrent　rushes　after　rain。　The

scene　was　in　keeping　with　the　stern　and　solemn　meditations　to　which　I

desired　to　abandon　myself。



I　had　perceived；　during　the　day　which　followed　the　fatal　night；　how

unwelcome　my　presence　might　be　at　Clochegourde。　The　count　had　gone

through　violent　emotions　at　the　death　of　his　wife；　but　he　had　expected

the　event；　his　mind　was　made　up　to　it　in　a　way　that　was　something　like

indifference。　I　had　noticed　this　several　times；　and　when　the　countess

gave　me　that　letter　（which　I　still　dared　not　read）　and　when　she　spoke

of　her　affection　for　me；　I　remarked　that　the　count；　usually　so　quick

to　take　offence；　made　no　sign　of　feeling　any。　He　attributed

Henriette's　wording　to　the　extreme　sensitiveness　of　a　conscience　which

he　knew　to　be　pure。　This　selfish　insensibility　was　natural　to　him。　The

souls　of　these　two　beings　were　no　more　married　than　their　bodies；　they

had　never　had　the　intimate　communion　which　keeps　feeling　alive；　they

had　shared　neither　pains　nor　pleasures；　those　strong　links　which　tear

us　by　a　thousand　edges　when　broken；　because　they　touch　on　all　our

fibers；　and　are　fastened　to　the　inmost　recesses　of　our　hearts。



Another　consideration　forbade　my　return　to　Clochegourde；Madeleine's

hostility。　That　hard　young　girl　was　not　disposed　to　modify　her　hatred

beside　her　mother's　coffin。　Between　the　count；　who　would　have　talked

to　me　incessantly　of　himself；　and　the　new　mistress　of　the　house；　who

would　have　shown　me　invincible　dislike；　I　should　have　found　myself

horribly　annoyed。　To　be　treated　thus　where　once　the　very　flowers

welcomed　me；　where　the　steps　of　the　portico　had　a　voice；　where　my

memory　clothed　with　poetry　the　balconies；　the　fountains；　the

balustrades；　the　trees；　the　glimpses　of　the　valleys！　to　be　hated　where

I　once　was　lovedthe　thought　was　intolerable　to　me。　So；　from　the

first；　my　mind　was　made　up。



Alas！　alas！　was　this　the　end　of　the　keenest　love　that　ever　entered　the

heart　of　man？　To　the　eyes　of　strangers　my　conduct　might　be

reprehensible；　but　it　had　the　sanction　of　my　own　conscience。　It　is

thus　that　the　noblest　feelings；　the　sublimest　dramas　of　our　youth　must

end。　We　start　at　dawn；　as　I　from　Tours　to　Clochegourde；　we　clutch　the

world；　our　hearts　hungry　for　love；　then；　when　our　treasure　is　in　the

crucible；　when　we　mingle　with　men　and　circumstances；　all　becomes

gradually　debased　and　we　find　but　little　gold　among　the　ashes。　Such　is

life！　life　as　it　is；　great　pretensions；　small　realities。　I　meditated

long　about　myself；　debating　what　I　could　do　after　a　blow　like　this

which　had　mown　down　every　flower　of　my　soul。　I　resolved　to　rush　into

the　science　of　politics；　into　the　labyrinth　of　ambition；　to　cast　woman

from　my　life　and　to　make　myself　a　statesman；　cold　and　passionless；　and

so　remain　true　to　the　saint　I　loved。　My　thoughts　wandered　into　far…off

regions　while　my　eyes　were　fastened　on　the　splendid　tapestry　of　the

yellowing　oaks；　the　stern　summits；　the　bronzed　foothills。　I　asked

myself　if　Henriette's