the crime of sylvestre bonnard-第15节
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hutch sold to Jehan d'Estonville； priest； in 1312。 But although； even then； I could recognise the importance of the document； I did not give it that attention it so strongly invited。 My eyes would keep turning； against my will； towards a certain corner of the table where there was nothing whatever interesting to a learned mind。 There was only a big German book there； bound in pigskin； with brass studs on the sides； and very thick cording upon the back。 It was a find copy of a compilation which has little to recommend it except the wood engravings it contains； and which is known as the 〃Cosmography of Munster。〃 This volume； with its covers slightly open； was placed upon edge with the back upwards。
I could not say for how long I had been staring causelessly at the sixteenth…century folio； when my eyes were captivated by a sight so extraordinary that even a person as devoid of imagination as I could not but have been greatly astonished by it。
I perceived； all of a sudden； without having noticed her coming into the room； a little creature seated on the back of the book； with one knee bent and one leg hanging downsomewhat in the attitude of the amazons of Hyde Park or the Bois de Boulogne on horseback。 She was so small that her swinging foot did not reach the table； over which the trail of her dress extended in a serpentine line。 But her face and figure were those of an adult。 The fulness of her corsage and the roundness of her waist could leave no doubt of that； even for an old savant like myself。 I will venture to add that she was very handsome； with a proud mien； for my iconographic studies have long accustomed me to recognise at once the perfection of a type and the character of a physiognomy。 The countenance of this lady who had seated herself inopportunely on the back of 〃Cosmography of Munster〃 expressed a mingling of haughtiness and mischievousness。 She had the air of a queen； but a capricious queen； and I judged； from the mere expression of her eyes； that she was accustomed to wield great authority somewhere； in a very whimsical manner。 Her mouth was imperious and mocking； and those blue eyes of hers seemed to laugh in a disquieting way under her finely arched black eyebrows。 I have always heard that black eyebrows are very becoming to blondes； but this lady was very blonde。 On the whole； the impression she gave me was one of greatness。
It may seem odd to say that a person who was no taller than a wine… bottle； and who might have been hidden in my coat pocketbut that it would have been very disrespectful to put her in itgave me precisely an idea of greatness。 But in the fine proportions of the lady seated upon the 〃Cosmography of Munster〃 there was such a proud elegance； such a harmonious majesty； and she maintained an attitude at once so easy and so noble； that she really seemed to me a very great person。 Although my ink…bottle； which she examined with an expression of such mockery as appeared to indicate that she knew in advance every word that would come out of it at the end of my pen； was for her a deep basin in which she would have blackened her gold… clocked pink stockings up to the garter； I can assure you that she was great； and imposing even in her sprightliness。
Her costume； worthy of her face； was extremely magnificent； it consisted of a robe of gold…and…silver brocade； and a mantle of nacarat velvet； lined with vair。 Her head…dress was a sort of hennin； with two high points； and pearls of splendid lustre made it bright and luminous as a crescent moon。 Her little white hand held a wand。 That wand drew my attention very strongly； because my archaeological studies had taught me to recognise with certainty every sign by which the notable personages of legend and of history are distinguished。 This knowledge came to my aid during various very queer conjectures with which I was labouring。 I examined the wand； and saw that it appeared to have been cut from a branch of hazel。
〃Then its a fairy's wand；〃 I said to myself； 〃consequently the lady who carries it is a fairy。〃
Happy at thus discovering what sort of a person was before me； I tried to collect my mind sufficiently to make her a graceful compliment。 It would have given me much satisfaction； I confess； if I could have talked to her about the part taken by her people； not less in the life of the Saxon and Germanic races； than in that of the Latin Occident。 Such a dissertation； it appeared to me； would have been an ingenious method of thanking the lady for having thus appeared to an old scholar； contrary to the invariable custom of her kindred； who never show themselves but to innocent children or ignorant village…folk。
Because one happens to be a fairy； one is none the less a woman； I said to myself； and since Madame Recamier； according to what I heard J。 J。 Ampere say； used to blush with pleasure when the little chimney… sweeps opened their eyes as wide as they could to look at her； surely the supernatural lady seated upon the 〃Cosmography of Munster〃 might feel flattered to hear an erudite man discourse learnedly about her； as about a medal； a seal； a fibula； or a token。 But such an undertaking； which would have cost my timidity a great deal； became totally out of the question when I observed the Lady of the Cosmography suddenly take from an alms purse hanging at her girdle the very smallest of nuts I had ever seen； crack the shells between her teeth； and throw them at my nose； while she nibbled the kernels with the gravity of a sucking child。
At this conjuncture； I did what the dignity of science demanded of meI remained silent。 But the nut…shells caused such a painful tickling that I put up my hand to my nose； and found； to my great surprise； that my spectacles were straddling the very end of it so that I was actually looking at the lady； not through my spectacles； but over them。 This was incomprehensible； because my eyes； worn out over old texts； cannot ordinarily distinguish anything without glassescould not tell a melon from a decanter； though the two were placed close up to my nose。
That nose of mine； remarkable for its size； its shape； and its coloration； legitimately attracted the attention of the fairy； for she seized my goose…quill pen； which was sticking up from the ink… bottle like a plume； and she began to pass the feather…end of that pen over my nose。 I had had more than once； in company； occasion to suffer cheerfully from the innocent mischief of young ladies； who made me join their games； and would offer me their cheeks to kiss through the back of a chair； or invite me to blow out a candle which they would lift suddenly above the range of my breath。 But until that moment no person of the fair sex had ever subjected me to such a whimsical piece of familiarity as that of tickling my nose with my own feather pen。 Happily I remembered the maxim of my late grandfather； who was accustomed to say that everything was permissible on the part of ladies； and that whatever they do to us is to be regarded as a grace and a favour。 Therefore； as a grace and a favour I received the nutshells and the titillations with my own pen； and I tried to smile。 Much more！I even found speech。
〃Madame；〃 I said； with dignified politeness； 〃you accord the honour of a visit not to a silly child； not to a boor； but to a bibliophile who is very happy to make your acquaintance； and who knows that long ago you used to make elf…knots in the manes of mares at the crib； drink the milk from the skimming…pails； slip graines…a…gratter down the backs of our great…grandmothers； make the hearth sputter in the faces of the old folks； and； in short； fill the house with disorder and gaiety。 You can also boast of giving the nicest frights in the world to lovers who stayed out in the woods too late of evenings。 But I thought you had vanished out of existence at least three centuries ago。 Can it really be； Madame； that you are still to be seen in this age of railways and telegraphs？ My concierge； who used to be a nurse in her young days； does not know your story； and my little boy…neighbour； whose nose is still wiped for him by his bonne； declares that you do not exist。〃
〃What do you yourself think about it？〃 she cried； in a silvery voice； straightening up her royal little figure in a very haughty fashion； and whipping the back of the 〃Cosmography of Munster〃 as though it were a hippogriff。
〃I don't really know；〃 I answered rubbing my eyes。
This reply； indicating a deeply scientific scepticism； had the most deplorable effect upon my questioner。
〃Monsieur Sylvestre Bonnard；〃 she said to me； 〃you are nothing but an old pedant。 I always suspected as much。 The smallest little ragamuffin who goes along the road with his shirt…tail sticking out through a hole in his pantaloons knows more about me than all the old spectacled folks in your Institutes and your Academies。 To know is nothing at all； to imagine is everything。 Nothing exists except that which is imagined。 I am imaginary。 That is what it is to exist； I should think！ I am dreamed of； and I appear。 Everything is only dream； and as nobody ever dreams about you； Sylvestre Bonnard； it is YOU who do not exist。 I charm the world； I am everywhereon a moon…beam； in the trembling of a h
