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第3节

sarrasine-第3节

小说: sarrasine 字数: 每页4000字

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upon his chair with great caution; mumbling some unintelligible words。
His cracked voice resembled the noise made by a stone falling into a
well。 The young woman nervously pressed my hand; as if she were trying
to avoid a precipice; and shivered when that man; at whom she happened
to be looking; turned upon her two lifeless; sea…green eyes; which
could be compared to nothing save tarnished mother…of…pearl。

〃I am afraid;〃 she said; putting her lips to my ear。

〃You can speak;〃 I replied; 〃he hears with great difficulty。〃

〃You know him; then?〃

〃Yes。〃

Thereupon she summoned courage to scrutinize for a moment that
creature for which no human language has a name; form without
substance; a being without life; or life without action。 She was under
the spell of that timid curiosity which impels women to seek perilous
excitement; to gaze at chained tigers and boa…constrictors; shuddering
all the while because the barriers between them are so weak。 Although
the little old man's back was bent like a day…laborer's; it was easy
to see that he must formerly have been of medium height。 His excessive
thinness; the slenderness of his limbs; proved that he had always been
of slight build。 He wore black silk breeches which hung about his
fleshless thighs in folds; like a lowered veil。 An anatomist would
instinctively have recognized the symptoms of consumption in its
advanced stages; at sight of the tiny legs which served to support
that strange frame。 You would have said that they were a pair of
cross…bones on a gravestone。 A feeling of profound horror seized the
heart when a close scrutiny revealed the marks made by decrepitude
upon that frail machine。

He wore a white waistcoat embroidered with gold; in the old style; and
his linen was of dazzling whiteness。 A shirt…frill of English lace;
yellow with age; the magnificence of which a queen might have envied;
formed a series of yellow ruffles on his breast; but upon him the lace
seemed rather a worthless rag than an ornament。 In the centre of the
frill a diamond of inestimable value gleamed like a sun。 That
superannuated splendor; that display of treasure; of great intrinsic
worth; but utterly without taste; served to bring out in still bolder
relief the strange creature's face。 The frame was worthy of the
portrait。 That dark face was full of angles and furrowed deep in every
direction; the chin was furrowed; there were great hollows at the
temples; the eyes were sunken in yellow orbits。 The maxillary bones;
which his indescribable gauntness caused to protrude; formed deep
cavities in the centre of both cheeks。 These protuberances; as the
light fell upon them; caused curious effects of light and shadow which
deprived that face of its last vestige of resemblance to the human
countenance。 And then; too; the lapse of years had drawn the fine;
yellow skin so close to the bones that it described a multitude of
wrinkles everywhere; either circular like the ripples in the water
caused by a stone which a child throws in; or star…shaped like a pane
of glass cracked by a blow; but everywhere very deep; and as close
together as the leaves of a closed book。 We often see more hideous old
men; but what contributed more than aught else to give to the spectre
that rose before us the aspect of an artificial creation was the red
and white paint with which he glistened。 The eyebrows shone in the
light with a lustre which disclosed a very well executed bit of
painting。 Luckily for the eye; saddened by such a mass of ruins; his
corpse…like skull was concealed beneath a light wig; with innumerable
curls which indicated extraordinary pretensions to elegance。 Indeed;
the feminine coquettishness of this fantastic apparition was
emphatically asserted by the gold ear…rings which hung at his ears; by
the rings containing stones of marvelous beauty which sparkled on his
fingers; like the brilliants in a river of gems around a woman's neck。
Lastly; this species of Japanese idol had constantly upon his blue
lips; a fixed; unchanging smile; the shadow of an implacable and
sneering laugh; like that of a death's head。 As silent and motionless
as a statue; he exhaled the musk…like odor of the old dresses which a
duchess' heirs exhume from her wardrobe during the inventory。 If the
old man turned his eyes toward the company; it seemed that the
movements of those globes; no longer capable of reflecting a gleam;
were accomplished by an almost imperceptible effort; and; when the
eyes stopped; he who was watching them was not certain finally that
they had moved at all。 As I saw; beside that human ruin; a young woman
whose bare neck and arms and breast were white as snow; whose figure
was well…rounded and beautiful in its youthful grace; whose hair;
charmingly arranged above an alabaster forehead; inspired love; whose
eyes did not receive but gave forth light; who was sweet and fresh;
and whose fluffy curls; whose fragrant breath; seemed too heavy; too
harsh; too overpowering for that shadow; for that man of dustah! the
thought that came into my mind was of death and life; an imaginary
arabesque; a half…hideous chimera; divinely feminine from the waist
up。

〃And yet such marriages are often made in society!〃 I said to myself。

〃He smells of the cemetery!〃 cried the terrified young woman; grasping
my arm as if to make sure of my protection; and moving about in a
restless; excited way; which convinced me that she was very much
frightened。 〃It's a horrible vision;〃 she continued; 〃I cannot stay
here any longer。 If I look at him again I shall believe that Death
himself has come in search of me。 But is he alive?〃

She placed her hand on the phenomenon; with the boldness which women
derive from the violence of their wishes; but a cold sweat burst from
her pores; for; the instant she touched the old man; she heard a cry
like the noise made by a rattle。 That shrill voice; if indeed it were
a voice; escaped from a throat almost entirely dry。 It was at once
succeeded by a convulsive little cough like a child's; of a peculiar
resonance。 At that sound; Marianina; Filippo; and Madame de Lanty
looked toward us; and their glances were like lightning flashes。 The
young woman wished that she were at the bottom of the Seine。 She took
my arm and pulled me away toward a boudoir。 Everybody; men and women;
made room for us to pass。 Having reached the further end of the suite
of reception…rooms; we entered a small semi…circular cabinet。 My
companion threw herself on a divan; breathing fast with terror; not
knowing where she was。

〃You are mad; madame;〃 I said to her。

〃But;〃 she rejoined; after a moment's silence; during which I gazed at
her in admiration; 〃is it my fault? Why does Madame de Lanty allow
ghosts to wander round her house?〃

〃Nonsense;〃 I replied; 〃you are doing just what fools do。 You mistake
a little old man for a spectre。〃

〃Hush;〃 she retorted; with the imposing; yet mocking; air which all
women are so well able to assume when they are determined to put
themselves in the right。 〃Oh! what a sweet boudoir!〃 she cried;
looking about her。 〃Blue satin hangings always produce an admirable
effect。 How cool it is! Ah! the lovely picture!〃 she added; rising and
standing in front of a magnificently framed painting。

We stood for a moment gazing at that marvel of art; which seemed the
work of some supernatural brush。 The picture represented Adonis
stretched out on a lion's skin。 The lamp; in an alabaster vase;
hanging in the centre of the boudoir; cast upon the canvas a soft
light which enabled us to grasp all the beauties of the picture。

〃Does such a perfect creature exist?〃 she asked me; after examining
attentively; and not without a sweet smile of satisfaction; the
exquisite grace of the outlines; the attitude; the color; the hair; in
fact everything。

〃He is too beautiful for a man;〃 she added; after such a scrutiny as
she would have bestowed upon a rival。

Ah! how sharply I felt at that moment those pangs of jealousy in which
a poet had tried in vain to make me believe! the jealousy of
engravings; of pictures; of statues; wherein artists exaggerate human
beauty; as a result of the doctrine which leads them to idealize
everything。

〃It is a portrait;〃 I replied。 〃It is a product of Vien's genius。 But
that great painter never saw the original; and your admiration will be
modified somewhat perhaps; when I tell you that this study was made
from a statue of a woman。〃

〃But who is it?〃

I hesitated。

〃I insist upon knowing;〃 she added earnestly。

〃I believe;〃 I said; 〃that this /Adonis/ represents aa relative of
Madame de Lanty。〃

I had the chagrin of seeing that she was lost in contemplation of that
figure。 She sat down in silence; and I seated myself beside her and
took her hand without her noticing it。 Forgotten for a portrait! At
that moment we heard in the silence a woman's footstep and the faint
rustling of a dress。 We saw the youthful Marianina enter the boudoir;
even more resplendent by reason of her grace and her fresh costume;
she was walking slowly and leading with motherly care; with a
daughter's solicitude; the spectre in human attire; who had driven us
from the music…room; as she 

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