letters of two brides-第18节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　　a　poor　exile；　you　have　unbent　this　lofty　majesty；　because　by　a
　　gesture；　a　glance；　you　have　brought　consolation　to　a　man　so　far
　　beneath　you　that　the　utmost　he　could　hope　for　was　your　pity；　the
　　pity　of　a　generous　heart。　You　are　the　one　woman　whose　eyes　have
　　shone　with　a　tenderer　light　when　bent　on　me。

　　〃And　because　you　let　fall　this　glancea　mere　grain　of　dust；　yet　a
　　grace　surpassing　any　bestowed　on　me　when　I　stood　at　the　summit　of
　　a　subject's　ambitionI　long　to　tell　you；　Louise；　how　dear　you　are
　　to　me；　and　that　my　love　is　for　yourself　alone；　without　a　thought
　　beyond；　a　love　that　far　more　than　fulfils　the　conditions　laid　down
　　by　you　for　an　ideal　passion。

　　〃Know；　then；　idol　of　my　highest　heaven；　that　there　is　in　the　world
　　an　offshoot　of　the　Saracen　race；　whose　life　is　in　your　hands；　who
　　will　receive　your　orders　as　a　slave；　and　deem　it　an　honor　to
　　execute　them。　I　have　given　myself　to　you　absolutely　and　for　the
　　mere　joy　of　giving；　for　a　single　glance　of　your　eye；　for　a　touch
　　of　the　hand　which　one　day　you　offered　to　your　Spanish　master。　I　am
　　but　your　servitor；　Louise；　I　claim　no　more。

　　〃No；　I　dare　not　think　that　I　could　ever　be　loved；　but　perchance　my
　　devotion　may　win　for　me　toleration。　Since　that　morning　when　you
　　smiled　upon　me　with　generous　girlish　impulse；　divining　the　misery
　　of　my　lonely　and　rejected　heart；　you　reign　there　alone。　You　are
　　the　absolute　ruler　of　my　life；　the　queen　of　my　thoughts；　the　god
　　of　my　heart；　I　find　you　in　the　sunshine　of　my　home；　the　fragrance
　　of　my　flowers；　the　balm　of　the　air　I　breathe；　the　pulsing　of　my
　　blood；　the　light　that　visits　me　in　sleep。

　　〃One　thought　alone　troubled　this　happinessyour　ignorance。　All
　　unknown　to　you　was　this　boundless　devotion；　the　trusty　arm；　the
　　blind　slave；　the　silent　tool；　the　wealthfor　henceforth　all　I
　　possess　is　mine　only　as　a　trustwhich　lay　at　your　disposal；
　　unknown　to　you；　the　heart　waiting　to　receive　your　confidence；　and
　　yearning　to　replace　all　that　your　life　（I　know　it　well）　has　lacked
　　the　liberal　ancestress；　so　ready　to　meet　your　needs；　a　father　to
　　whom　you　could　look　for　protection　in　every　difficulty；　a　friend；
　　a　brother。　The　secret　of　your　isolation　is　no　secret　to　me！　If　I
　　am　bold；　it　is　because　I　long　that　you　should　know　how　much　is
　　yours。

　　〃Take　all；　Louise；　and　is　so　doing　bestow　on　me　the　one　life
　　possible　for　me　in　this　worldthe　life　of　devotion。　In　placing
　　the　yoke　on　my　neck；　you　run　no　risk；　I　ask　nothing　but　the　joy　of
　　knowing　myself　yours。　Needless　even　to　say　you　will　never　love　me；
　　it　cannot　be　otherwise。　I　must　love　you　from　afar；　without　hope；
　　without　reward　beyond　my　own　love。

　　〃In　my　anxiety　to　know　whether　you　will　accept　me　as　your　servant；
　　I　have　racked　my　brain　to　find　some　way　in　which　you　may
　　communicate　with　me　without　any　danger　of　compromising　yourself。
　　Injury　to　your　self…respect　there　can　be　none　in　sanctioning　a
　　devotion　which　has　been　yours　for　many　days　without　your
　　knowledge。　Let　this；　then；　be　the　token。　At　the　opera　this
　　evening；　if　you　carry　in　your　hand　a　bouquet　consisting　of　one　red
　　and　one　white　camelliaemblem　of　a　man's　blood　at　the　service　of
　　the　purity　he　worshipsthat　will　be　my　answer。　I　ask　no　more；
　　thenceforth；　at　any　moment；　ten　years　hence　or　to…morrow；　whatever
　　you　demand　shall　be　done；　so　far　as　it　is　possible　for　man　to　do
　　it；　by　your　happy　servant；
〃FELIPE　HENAREZ。〃

/P。　S。/You　must　admit；　dear；　that　great　lords　know　how　to　love！　See
the　spring　of　the　African　lion！　What　restrained　fire！　What　loyalty！
What　sincerity！　How　high　a　soul　in　low　estate！　I　felt　quite　small　and
dazed　as　I　said　to　myself；　〃What　shall　I　do？〃

It　is　the　mark　of　a　great　man　that　he　puts　to　flight　all　ordinary
calculations。　He　is　at　once　sublime　and　touching；　childlike　and　of　the
race　of　giants。　In　a　single　letter　Henarez　has　outstripped　volumes
from　Lovelace　or　Saint…Preux。　Here　is　true　love；　no　beating　about　the
bush。　Love　may　be　or　it　may　not；　but　where　it　is；　it　ought　to　reveal
itself　in　its　immensity。

Here　am　I；　shorn　of　all　my　little　arts！　To　refuse　or　accept！　That　is
the　alternative　boldly　presented　me；　without　the　ghost　of　an　opening
for　a　middle　course。　No　fencing　allowed！　This　is　no　longer　Paris；　we
are　in　the　heart　of　Spain　or　the　far　East。　It　is　the　voice　of
Abencerrage；　and　it　is　the　scimitar；　the　horse；　and　the　head　of
Abencerrage　which　he　offers；　prostrate　before　a　Catholic　Eve！　Shall　I
accept　this　last　descendant　of　the　Moors？　Read　again　and　again　his
Hispano…Saracenic　letter；　Renee　dear；　and　you　will　see　how　love　makes
a　clean　sweep　of　all　the　Judaic　bargains　of　your　philosophy。

Renee；　your　letter　lies　heavy　on　my　heart；　you　have　vulgarized　life
for　me。　What　need　have　I　for　finessing？　Am　I　not　mistress　for　all　time
of　this　lion　whose　roar　dies　out　in　plaintive　and　adoring　sighs？　Ah！
how　he　must　have　raged　in　his　lair　of　the　Rue　Hillerin…Bertin！　I　know
where　he　lives；　I　have　his　card：　/F。；　Baron　de　Macumer/。

He　has　made　it　impossible　for　me　to　reply。　All　I　can　do　is　to　fling
two　camellias　in　his　face。　What　fiendish　arts　does　love　possesspure；
honest；　simple…minded　love！　Here　is　the　most　tremendous　crisis　of　a
woman's　heart　resolved　into　an　easy；　simple　action。　Oh；　Asia！　I　have
read　the　/Arabian　Nights/；　here　is　their　very　essence：　two　flowers；
and　the　question　is　settled。　We　clear　the　fourteen　volumes　of
/Clarissa　Harlowe/　with　a　bouquet。　I　writhe　before　this　letter；　like　a
thread　in　the　fire。　To　take；　or　not　to　take；　my　two　camellias。　Yes　or
No；　kill　or　give　life！　At　last　a　voice　cries　to　me；　〃Test　him！〃　And　I
will　test　him。



XVI

THE　SAME　TO　THE　SAME
March。

I　am　dressed　in　whitewhite　camellias　in　my　hair；　and　another　in　my
hand。　My　mother　has　red　camellias；　so　it　would　not　be　impossible　to
take　one　from　herif　I　wished！　I　have　a　strange　longing　to　put　off
the　decision　to　the　last　moment；　and　make　him　pay　for　his　red　camellia
by　a　little　suspense。

What　a　vision　of　beauty！　Griffith　begged　me　to　stop　for　a　little　and
be　admired。　The　solemn　crisis　of　the　evening　and　the　drama　of　my
secret　reply　have　given　me　a　color；　on　each　cheek　I　sport　a　red
camellia　laid　upon　a　white！

1　A。　M。

Everybody　admired　me；　but　only　one　adored。　He　hung　his　head　as　I
entered　with　a　white　camellia；　but　turned　pale　as　the　flower　when；
later；　I　took　a　red　one　from　my　mother's　hand。　To　arrive　with　the　two
flowers　might　possibly　have　been　accidental；　but　this　deliberate
action　was　a　reply。　My　confession；　therefore；　is　fuller　than　it　need
have　been。

The　opera　was　/Romeo　and　Juliet/。　As　you　don't　know　the　duet　of　the
two　lovers；　you　can't　understand　the　bliss　of　two　neophytes　in　love；
as　they　listen　to　this　divine　outpouring　of　the　heart。

On　returning　home　I　went　to　bed；　but　only　to　count　the　steps　which
resounded　on　the　sidewalk。　My　heart　and　head；　darling；　are　all　on　fire
now。　What　is　he　doing？　What　is　he　thinking　of？　Has　he　a　thought；　a
single　thought；　that　is　not　of　me？　Is　he；　in　very　truth；　the　devoted
slave　he　painted　himself？　How　to　be　sure？　Or；　again；　has　it　ever
entered　his　head　that；　if　I　accept　him；　I　lay　myself　open　to　the
shadow　of　a　reproach　or　am　in　any　sense　rewarding　or　thanking　him？　I
am　harrowed　by　the　hair…splitting　casuistry　of　the　heroines　in　/Cyrus/
and　/Astraea/；　by　all　the　subtle　arguments　of　the　court　of　love。

Has　he　any　idea　that；　in　affairs　of　love；　a　woman's　most　trifling
actions　are　but　the　issue　of　long　brooding　and　inner　conflicts；　of
victories　won　only　to　be　lost！　What　are　his　thoughts　at　this　moment？
How　can　I　give　him　my　orders　to　write　every　evening　the　particulars　of
the　day　just　gone？　He　is　my　slave　whom　I　ought　to　keep　busy。　I　shall
deluge　him　with　work！

Sunday　Morning。

Only　towards　morning　did　I　sleep　a　little。　It　is　midday　now。　I　have
just　got　Griffith　to　write　the　following　letter：

　　〃/To　the　Baron　de　Macumer/。

　　〃Mademoiselle　de　Chaulieu　begs　me；　Monsieur　le　Baron；　to　ask　you
　　to　return　to　her　the　copy　of　a　letter　written　to　her　by　a　friend；
　　which　is　in　her　own　handwriting；　and　which　you　carried　away。
　　Believe　me；　etc。；
〃GRIFFITH。〃

My　dear；　Griffith　has　gone　out；　she　has　gone　to　the　Rue　Hillerin…
Bertin；　she　had　handed　in　this　little　love…letter　for　my　slave；　who
returned　to　me　in　an　envelope　my　sweet　portrait；　stained　with　tears。
He　has　obeyed。　Oh！　my　sweet；　it　must　have　been　dear　to　him！　Another
man　would　have　refused　to　send　it　in　a　letter　full　of　flattery；　but
the　Saracen　has　fulfilled　his　promises。　He　has　obeyed。　It　moves　me　to
tears。



XVII

THE　SAME　TO　THE　SAME
April　2nd。

Yesterday　the　weather　was　splendid。　I　dressed　myself　like　a　girl　who
wants　to　look　her　best　in　her　sweetheart's　eyes。　My　father；　yielding
to　my　entreaties；　has　given　me　the　prettiest　turnout　in　Paristwo
dapple…gray　horses　and　a　barouche；　which　is　a　masterpiece　of　elegance。
I　was　making　a　first　trial　of　this；　and　peeped　out　like　a　flower　from
under　my　sunshade　lined　with　white　silk。

As　I　drove　up　the　avenue　of　the　Champs…Elysees；　I　saw　my　Abencerrage
approaching　on　an　extraordinarily　beautiful　horse。　Almost　every　man
nowadays　is　a　finished　jockey；