the aspern papers-第24节

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He　could　not　direct　me　what　to　do；　gaze　up　at　him　as　I　might。

Was　it　before　this　or　after　that　I　wandered　about　for　an　hour

in　the　small　canals；　to　the　continued　stupefaction　of　my　gondolier；

who　had　never　seen　me　so　restless　and　yet　so　void　of　a　purpose　and

could　extract　from　me　no　order　but　〃Go　anywhereeverywhereall　over

the　place〃？　　He　reminded　me　that　I　had　not　lunched　and　expressed

therefore　respectfully　the　hope　that　I　would　dine　earlier。

He　had　had　long　periods　of　leisure　during　the　day；　when　I　had　left

the　boat　and　rambled；　so　that　I　was　not　obliged　to　consider　him；

and　I　told　him　that　that　day；　for　a　change；　I　would　touch

no　meat。　　It　was　an　effect　of　poor　Miss　Tita's　proposal；

not　altogether　auspicious；　that　I　had　quite　lost　my　appetite。

I　don't　know　why　it　happened　that　on　this　occasion　I　was　more　than

ever　struck　with　that　queer　air　of　sociability；　of　cousinship

and　family　life；　which　makes　up　half　the　expression　of　Venice。

Without　streets　and　vehicles；　the　uproar　of　wheels；　the　brutality

of　horses；　and　with　its　little　winding　ways　where　people

crowd　together；　where　voices　sound　as　in　the　corridors　of　a　house；

where　the　human　step　circulates　as　if　it　skirted　the　angles

of　furniture　and　shoes　never　wear　out；　the　place　has　the　character

of　an　immense　collective　apartment；　in　which　Piazza　San　Marco

is　the　most　ornamented　corner　and　palaces　and　churches；

for　the　rest；　play　the　part　of　great　divans　of　repose；

tables　of　entertainment；　expanses　of　decoration。　　And　somehow

the　splendid　common　domicile；　familiar；　domestic；　and　resonant；

also　resembles　a　theater；　with　actors　clicking　over　bridges　and；

in　straggling　processions；　tripping　along　fondamentas。　　As

you　sit　in　your　gondola　the　footways　that　in　certain　parts　edge

the　canals　assume　to　the　eye　the　importance　of　a　stage；　meeting　it

at　the　same　angle；　and　the　Venetian　figures；　moving　to　and　fro

against　the　battered　scenery　of　their　little　houses　of　comedy；

strike　you　as　members　of　an　endless　dramatic　troupe。



I　went　to　bed　that　night　very　tired；　without　being　able　to　compose

a　letter　to　Miss　Tita。　　Was　this　failure　the　reason　why　I　became

conscious　the　next　morning　as　soon　as　I　awoke　of　a　determination

to　see　the　poor　lady　again　the　first　moment　she　would　receive　me？

That　had　something　to　do　with　it；　but　what　had　still　more　was　the　fact

that　during　my　sleep　a　very　odd　revulsion　had　taken　place　in　my　spirit。

I　found　myself　aware　of　this　almost　as　soon　as　I　opened　my　eyes；

it　made　me　jump　out　of　my　bed　with　the　movement　of　a　man　who　remembers

that　he　has　left　the　house　door　ajar　or　a　candle　burning　under　a　shelf。

Was　I　still　in　time　to　save　my　goods？　　That　question　was　in　my　heart；

for　what　had　now　come　to　pass　was　that　in　the　unconscious　cerebration

of　sleep　I　had　swung　back　to　a　passionate　appreciation　of　Miss

Bordereau's　papers。　　They　were　now　more　precious　than　ever；

and　a　kind　of　ferocity　had　come　into　my　desire　to　possess　them。

The　condition　Miss　Tita　had　attached　to　the　possession　of　them

no　longer　appeared　an　obstacle　worth　thinking　of；　and　for　an　hour；

that　morning；　my　repentant　imagination　brushed　it　aside。

It　was　absurd　that　I　should　be　able　to　invent　nothing；

absurd　to　renounce　so　easily　and　turn　away　helpless　from　the　idea

that　the　only　way　to　get　hold　of　the　papers　was　to　unite　myself

to　her　for　life。　　I　would　not　unite　myself　and　yet　I　would　have　them。

I　must　add　that　by　the　time　I　sent　down　to　ask　if　she　would　see　me　I

had　invented　no　alternative；　though　to　do　so　I　had　had　all　the　time

that　I　was　dressing。　　This　failure　was　humiliating；　yet　what　could

the　alternative　be？　　Miss　Tita　sent　back　word　that　I　might　come；

and　as　I　descended　the　stairs　and　crossed　the　sala　to　her　door

this　time　she　received　me　in　her　aunt's　forlorn　parlorI　hoped　she

would　not　think　my　errand　was　to　tell　her　I　accepted　her　hand。

She　certainly　would　have　made　the　day　before　the　reflection　that

I　declined　it。



As　soon　as　I　came　into　the　room　I　saw　that　she　had　drawn　this　inference；

but　I　also　saw　something　which　had　not　been　in　my　forecast。　　Poor　Miss

Tita's　sense　of　her　failure　had　produced　an　extraordinary　alteration　in　her；

but　I　had　been　too　full　of　my　literary　concupiscence　to　think　of　that。

Now　I　perceived　it；　I　can　scarcely　tell　how　it　startled　me。

She　stood　in　the　middle　of　the　room　with　a　face　of　mildness　bent　upon　me；

and　her　look　of　forgiveness；　of　absolution；　made　her　angelic。

It　beautified　her；　she　was　younger；　she　was　not　a　ridiculous　old　woman。

This　optical　trick　gave　her　a　sort　of　phantasmagoric　brightness；

and　while　I　was　still　the　victim　of　it　I　heard　a　whisper　somewhere

in　the　depths　of　my　conscience：　　〃Why　not；　after　allwhy　not？〃

It　seemed　to　me　I　was　ready　to　pay　the　price。　　Still　more　distinctly

however　than　the　whisper　I　heard　Miss　Tita's　own　voice。　　I　was　so　struck

with　the　different　effect　she　made　upon　me　that　at　first　I　was　not　clearly

aware　of　what　she　was　saying；　then　I　perceived　she　had　bade　me　goodbye

she　said　something　about　hoping　I　should　be　very　happy。



〃Goodbyegoodbye？〃　　I　repeated　with　an　inflection　interrogative

and　probably　foolish。



I　saw　she　did　not　feel　the　interrogation；　she　only　heard　the　words；

she　had　strung　herself　up　to　accepting　our　separation　and　they

fell　upon　her　ear　as　a　proof。　　〃Are　you　going　today？〃　she　asked。

〃But　it　doesn't　matter；　for　whenever　you　go　I　shall　not　see　you　again。

I　don't　want　to。〃　　And　she　smiled　strangely；　with　an　infinite　gentleness。

She　had　never　doubted　that　I　had　left　her　the　day　before　in　horror。

How　could　she；　since　I　had　not　come　back　before　night　to　contradict；

even　as　a　simple　form；　such　an　idea？　　And　now　she　had　the　force　of　soul

Miss　Tita　with　force　of　soul　was　a　new　conceptionto　smile　at　me

in　her　humiliation。



〃What　shall　you　dowhere　shall　you　go？〃　　I　asked。



〃Oh；　I　don't　know。　　I　have　done　the　great　thing。

I　have　destroyed　the　papers。〃



〃Destroyed　them？〃　　I　faltered。



〃Yes；　what　was　I　to　keep　them　for？　　I　burned　them　last　night；

one　by　one；　in　the　kitchen。〃



〃One　by　one？〃　　I　repeated；　mechanically。



〃It　took　a　long　timethere　were　so　many。〃　　The　room　seemed　to　go　round　me

as　she　said　this；　and　a　real　darkness　for　a　moment　descended　upon　my　eyes。

When　it　passed　Miss　Tita　was　there　still；　but　the　transfiguration

was　over　and　she　had　changed　back　to　a　plain；　dingy；　elderly　person。

It　was　in　this　character　she　spoke　as　she　said；　〃I　can't　stay　with　you　longer；

I　can't；〃　and　it　was　in　this　character　that　she　turned　her　back　upon　me；

as　I　had　turned　mine　upon　her　twenty…four　hours　before；　and　moved　to

the　door　of　her　room。　　Here　she　did　what　I　had　not　done　when　I　quitted　her

she　paused　long　enough　to　give　me　one　look。　　I　have　never　forgotten　it

and　I　sometimes　still　suffer　from　it；　though　it　was　not　resentful。

No；　there　was　no　resentment；　nothing　hard　or　vindictive　in　poor　Miss　Tita；

for　when；　later；　I　sent　her　in　exchange　for　the　portrait　of　Jeffrey　Aspern

a　larger　sum　of　money　than　I　had　hoped　to　be　able　to　gather　for　her；

writing　to　her　that　I　had　sold　the　picture；　she　kept　it　with　thanks；

she　never　sent　it　back。　　I　wrote　to　her　that　I　had　sold　the　picture；

but　I　admitted　to　Mrs。　Prest；　at　the　time　（I　met　her　in　London；

in　the　autumn）；　that　it　hangs　above　my　writing　table。　　When　I　look　at　it

my　chagrin　at　the　loss　of　the　letters　becomes　almost　intolerable。







End