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第5节

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

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