the crime of sylvestre bonnard(西维斯特·博拉德的罪行)-第19节
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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
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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 hidden spring； in the
moving of leaves that murmur； in the white vapours that rise each morning
from the hollow meadow； in the thickets of pink briereverywhere！。。。 I am
seen； I am loved。 There are sighs uttered； weird thrills of pleasure felt by
those who follow the light print of my feet； as I make the dead leaves
whisper。 I make the little children smile； I give wit to the dullest…minded
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The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
nurses。 Leaning above the cradles； I play； I comfort； I lull to sleepand
you doubt whether I exist！ Sylvestre Bonnard； your warm coat covers the
hide of an ass！〃
She ceased speaking； her delicate nostrils swelled with indignation；
and while I admired； despite my vexation； the heroic anger of this little
person； hse pushed my pen about in the ink…bottle； backward and forward；
like an oar； and then suddenly threw it at my nose； point first。
I rubbed by face； and felt it all covered with ink。 She had disappeared。
My lamp was extinguished。 A ray of moonlight streamed down through a
window and descended upon the 〃Cosmography of Munster。〃 A strong
cool wind； which had arisen very suddenly without my knowledge； was
blowing my papers； pens； and wafers about。 My table was all stained with
ink。 I had left my window open during the storm。 What an imprudence！
Chapter III
I wrote to my housekeeper； as I promised； that I was safe and sound。
But I took good care not to tell her that I had caught a cold from going to
sleep in the library at night with the window open； for the good woman
would have been as unsparing in her remonstrances to me as parliaments
to kings。 〃At your age； Monsieur；〃 she would have been sure to say； 〃one
ought to have more sense。〃 She is simple enough to believe that sense
grows with age。 I seem to her an exception to this rule。
Not having any similar motive for concealing my experiences from
Madame de Gabry； I told her all about my vision； which she seemed to
enjoy very much。
〃Why； that was a charming dream of yours；〃 she said； 〃and one must
have real genius to dream such a dream。〃
〃Then I am a real genius when I am asleep；〃 I responded。
〃When you dream；〃 she replied； 〃and you are always dreaming。〃
I know that Madame de Gabry； in making this remark； only wished to
please me； but that intention alone deserves my utmost gratitude； and it is
therefore in a spirit of thankfulness and kindliest remembrance that I write
down her words； which I will read over and over again until my dying day；
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and which will never be read by any one save myself。
I passed the next few days in completing the inventory of the
manuscripts in the Lusance library。 Certain confidential observations
dropped by Monsieur Paul de Gabry； however； caused me some painful
surprise； and made me decide to pursue the work after a different manner
from that in which I had begun it。 From those few words I learned that the
fortune of Monsieur Honore de Gabry； which had been badly managed for
many years； and subsequently swept away to a large extent through the
failure of a banker whose name I do not know； had been transmitted to the
heirs of the old French nobleman only under the form of mortgaged real
estate and irrecoverable assets。
Monsieur Paul； by agreement with his joint heirs； had decided to sell
the library； and I was intrusted with the task of making arrangements to
have the sale effected upon advantageous terms。 But totally ignorant as I
was of all the business methods and trade…customs； I thought it best to get
the advice of a publisher who was one of my private friends。 I wrote him
at once to come and join me at Lusance； and while waiting for his arrival I
took my hat and cane and made visits to the different churches of the
diocese； in several of which I knew there were certain mortuary
inscriptions to be found which had never been correctly copied。
So I left my hosts and departed my pilgrimage。 Exploring the churches
and the cemeteries every day； visiting the parish priests and the village
notaries； supping at the public inns with peddlers and cattle… dealers；
sleeping at night between sheets scented with lavender； I passed one whole
week in the quiet but profound enjoyment of observing the li
