juana-第5节

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common　trick；　the　success　of　which　is　nearly　always　certain。　At

Juana's　age；　nobility　of　soul　increases　the　dangers　which　surround

youth。　A　poet　of　our　day　has　said：　〃Woman　succumbs　only　to　her　own

nobility。　The　lover　pretends　to　doubt　the　love　he　inspires　at　the

moment　when　he　is　most　beloved；　the　young　girl；　confident　and　proud；

longs　to　make　sacrifices　to　prove　her　love；　and　knows　the　world　and

men　too　little　to　continue　calm　in　the　midst　of　her　rising　emotions

and　repel　with　contempt　the　man　who　accepts　a　life　offered　in

expiation　of　a　false　reproach。〃



Ever　since　the　constitution　of　societies　the　young　girl　finds　herself

torn　by　a　struggle　between　the　caution　of　prudent　virtue　and　the　evils

of　wrong…doing。　Often　she　loses　a　love；　delightful　in　prospect；　and

the　first；　if　she　resists；　on　the　other　hand；　she　loses　a　marriage　if

she　is　imprudent。　Casting　a　glance　over　the　vicissitudes　of　social

life　in　Paris；　it　is　impossible　to　doubt　the　necessity　of　religion；

and　yet　Paris　is　situated　in　the　forty…eighth　degree　of　latitude；

while　Tarragona　is　in　the　forty…first。　The　old　question　of　climates　is

still　useful　to　narrators　to　explain　the　sudden　denouements；　the

imprudences；　or　the　resistances　of　love。



Montefiore　kept　his　eyes　fixed　on　the　exquisite　black　profile

projected　by　the　gleam　upon　the　wall。　Neither　he　nor　Juana　could　see

each　other；　a　troublesome　cornice；　vexatiously　placed；　deprived　them

of　the　mute　correspondence　which　may　be　established　between　a　pair　of

lovers　as　they　bend　to　each　other　from　their　windows。　Thus　the　mind

and　the　attention　of　the　captain　were　concentrated　on　that　luminous

circle　where；　without　perhaps　knowing　it　herself；　the　young　girl

would；　he　thought；　innocently　reveal　her　thoughts　by　a　series　of

gestures。　But　no！　The　singular　motions　she　proceeded　to　make　gave　not

a　particle　of　hope　to　the　expectant　lover。　Juana　was　amusing　herself

by　cutting　up　his　missive。　But　virtue　and　innocence　sometimes　imitate

the　clever　proceedings　inspired　by　jealousy　to　the　Bartholos　of

comedy。　Juana；　without　pens；　ink；　or　paper；　was　replying　by　snip　of

scissors。　Presently　she　refastened　the　note　to　the　string；　the　officer

drew　it　up；　opened　it；　and　read　by　the　light　of　his　lamp　one　word；

carefully　cut　out　of　the　paper：　COME。



〃Come！〃　he　said　to　himself；　〃but　what　of　poison？　or　the　dagger　or

carbine　of　Perez？　And　that　apprentice　not　yet　asleep；　perhaps；　in　the

shop？　and　the　servant　in　her　hammock？　Besides；　this　old　house　echoes

the　slightest　sound；　I　can　hear　old　Perez　snoring　even　here。　Come；

indeed！　She　can　have　nothing　more　to　lose。〃



Bitter　reflection！　rakes　alone　are　logical　and　will　punish　a　woman　for

devotion。　Man　created　Satan　and　Lovelace；　but　a　virgin　is　an　angel　on

whom　he　can　bestow　naught　but　his　own　vices。　She　is　so　grand；　so

beautiful；　that　he　cannot　magnify　or　embellish　her；　he　has　only　the

fatal　power　to　blast　her　and　drag　her　down　into　his　own　mire。



Montefiore　waited　for　a　later　and　more　somnolent　hour　of　the　night；

then；　in　spite　of　his　reflections；　he　descended　the　stairs　without

boots；　armed　with　his　pistols；　moving　step　by　step；　stopping　to

question　the　silence；　putting　forth　his　hands；　measuring　the　stairs；

peering　into　the　darkness；　and　ready　at　the　slightest　incident　to　fly

back　into　his　room。　The　Italian　had　put　on　his　handsomest　uniform；　he

had　perfumed　his　black　hair；　and　now　shone　with　the　particular

brilliancy　which　dress　and　toilet　bestow　upon　natural　beauty。　Under

such　circumstances　most　men　are　as　feminine　as　a　woman。



The　marquis　arrived　without　hindrance　before　the　secret　door　of　the

room　in　which　the　girl　was　hidden；　a　sort　of　cell　made　in　the　angle　of

the　house　and　belonging　exclusively　to　Juana；　who　had　remained　there

hidden　during　the　day　from　every　eye　while　the　siege　lasted。　Up　to　the

present　time　she　had　slept　in　the　room　of　her　adopted　mother；　but　the

limited　space　in　the　garret　where　the　merchant　and　his　wife　had　gone

to　make　room　for　the　officer　who　was　billeted　upon　them；　did　not　allow

of　her　going　with　them。　Dona　Lagounia　had　therefore　left　the　young

girl　to　the　guardianship　of　lock　and　key；　under　the　protection　of

religious　ideas；　all　the　more　efficacious　because　they　were　partly

superstitious；　and　also　under　the　shield　of　a　native　pride　and

sensitive　modesty　which　made　the　young　Mancini　in　sort　an　exception

among　her　sex。　Juana　possessed　in　an　equal　degree　the　most　attaching

virtues　and　the　most　passionate　impulses；　she　had　needed　the　modesty

and　sanctity　of　this　monotonous　life　to　calm　and　cool　the　tumultuous

blood　of　the　Maranas　which　bounded　in　her　heart；　the　desires　of　which

her　adopted　mother　told　her　were　an　instigation　of　the　devil。



A　faint　ray　of　light　traced　along　the　sill　of　the　secret　door　guided

Montefiore　to　the　place；　he　scratched　the　panel　softly　and　Juana

opened　to　him。　Montefiore　entered；　palpitating；　but　he　recognized　in

the　expression　of　the　girl's　face　complete　ignorance　of　her　peril；　a

sort　of　naive　curiosity；　and　an　innocent　admiration。　He　stopped　short；

arrested　for　a　moment　by　the　sacredness　of　the　picture　which　met　his

eyes。



He　saw　before　him　a　tapestry　on　the　walls　with　a　gray　ground　sprinkled

with　violets；　a　little　coffer　of　ebony；　an　antique　mirror；　an　immense

and　very　old　arm　chair　also　in　ebony　and　covered　with　tapestry；　a

table　with　twisted　legs；　a　pretty　carpet　on　the　floor；　near　the　table

a　single　chair；　and　that　was　all。　On　the　table；　however；　were　flowers

and　embroidery；　in　a　recess　at　the　farther　end　of　the　room　was　the

narrow　little　bed　where　Juana　dreamed。　Above　the　bed　were　three

pictures；　and　near　the　pillow　a　crucifix；　with　a　holy　water　basin　and

a　prayer；　printed　in　letters　of　gold　and　framed。　Flowers　exhaled　their

perfume　faintly；　the　candles　cast　a　tender　light；　all　was　calm　and

pure　and　sacred。　The　dreamy　thoughts　of　Juana；　but　above　all　Juana

herself；　had　communicated　to　all　things　her　own　peculiar　charm；　her

soul　appeared　to　shine　there；　like　the　pearl　in　its　matrix。　Juana；

dressed　in　white；　beautiful　with　naught　but　her　own　beauty；　laying

down　her　rosary　to　answer　love；　might　have　inspired　respect；　even　in　a

Montefiore；　if　the　silence；　if　the　night；　if　Juana　herself　had　not

seemed　so　amorous。　Montefiore　stood　still；　intoxicated　with　an　unknown

happiness；　possibly　that　of　Satan　beholding　heaven　through　a　rift　of

the　clouds　which　form　its　enclosure。



〃As　soon　as　I　saw　you；〃　he　said　in　pure　Tuscan；　and　in　the　modest　tone

of　voice　so　peculiarly　Italian；　〃I　loved　you。　My　soul　and　my　life　are

now　in　you；　and　in　you　they　will　be　forever；　if　you　will　have　it　so。〃



Juana　listened；　inhaling　from　the　atmosphere　the　sound　of　these　words

which　the　accents　of　love　made　magnificent。



〃Poor　child！　how　have　you　breathed　so　long　the　air　of　this　dismal

house　without　dying　of　it？　You；　made　to　reign　in　the　world；　to　inhabit

the　palace　of　a　prince；　to　live　in　the　midst　of　fetes；　to　feel　the

joys　which　love　bestows；　to　see　the　world　at　your　feet；　to　efface　all

other　beauty　by　your　own　which　can　have　no　rivalyou；　to　live　here；

solitary；　with　those　two　shopkeepers！〃



Adroit　question！　He　wished　to　know　if　Juana　had　a　lover。



〃True；〃　she　replied。　〃But　who　can　have　told　you　my　secret　thoughts？

For　the　last　few　months　I　have　nearly　died　of　sadness。　Yes；　I　would

RATHER　die　than　stay　longer　in　this　house。　Look　at　that　embroidery；

there　is　not　a　stitch　there　which　I　did　not　set　with　dreadful

thoughts。　How　many　times　I　have　thought　of　escaping　to　fling　myself

into　the　sea！　Why？　I　don't　know　why；little　childish　troubles；　but

very　keen；　though　they　are　so　silly。　Often　I　have　kissed　my　mother　at

night　as　one　would　kiss　a　mother　for　the　last　time；　saying　in　my

heart：　'To…morrow　I　will　kill　myself。'　But　I　do　not　die。　Suicides　go

to　hell；　you　know；　and　I　am　so　afraid　of　hell　that　I　resign　myself　to

live；　to　get　up　in　the　morning　and　go　to　bed　at　night；　and　work　the

same　hours；　and　do　the　same　things。　I　am　not　so　weary　of　it；　but　I

sufferAnd　yet；　my　father　and　mother　adore　me。　Oh！　I　am　bad；　I　am

bad；　I　say　so　to　my　confessor。〃



〃Do　you　always　live　here　alone；　without　amusement；　without　pleasures？〃



〃Oh！　I　have　not　always　been　like　this。　Till　I　was　fifteen　the

festivals　of　the　church；　the　chants；　the　music　gave　me　pleasure。　I　was

happy；　feeling　myself　like　the　angels　without　sin　and　able　to

communicate　every　weekI　loved　God　then。　But　for　the　last　three

years；　from　day　to　day；　all　things　have　changed。　First；　I　wanted

flowers　hereand　I　have　them；　lovely　flowers！　Then　I　wantedbut　I

want　nothing　now；〃　she　added；　after　a　pause；　smiling　at　Montefiore。

〃Have　you　not　said　that　you　would　love　me　always？〃



〃Yes；　my　Juana；〃　cried　Montefiore；　softly；　taking　her　round　the　waist

and　pressing　her　to　his　heart；　〃yes。　But　let　me　speak　to　you　as　you

speak　to　God。　Are　you　not　as　beautiful　as　Mary　in　heaven？　Listen。　I

swear　to　you；〃　he　continued