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the lily of the valley-第64章

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the glorious love of angels! I have traversed vast tracts of thought

since you returned here。 I have judged life。 Lift up the soul and you

rend it; the higher we go the less sympathy we meet; instead of

suffering in the valley; we suffer in the skies; as the soaring eagle

bears in his heart the arrow of some common herdsman。 I comprehend at

last that earth and heaven are incompatible。 Yes; to those who would

live in the celestial sphere God must be all in all。 We must love our

friends as we love our children;for them; not for ourselves。 Self is

the cause of misery and grief。 My soul is capable of soaring higher

than the eagle; there is a love which cannot fail me。 But to live for

this earthly life is too debasing;here the selfishness of the senses

reigns supreme over the spirituality of the angel that is within us。

The pleasures of passion are stormy; followed by enervating anxieties

which impair the vigor of the soul。 I came to the shores of the sea

where such tempests rage; I have seen them too near; they have wrapped

me in their clouds; the billows did not break at my feet; they caught

me in a rough embrace which chilled my heart。 No! I must escape to

higher regions; I should perish on the shores of this vast sea。 I see

in you; as in all others who have grieved me; the guardian of my

virtue。 My life has been mingled with anguish; fortunately

proportioned to my strength; it has thus been kept free from evil

passions; from seductive peace; and ever near to God。 Our attachment

was the mistaken attempt; the innocent effort of two children striving

to satisfy their own hearts; God; and menfolly; Felix! Ah;〃 she said

quickly; 〃what does that woman call you?〃



〃'Amedee;'〃 I answered; 〃'Felix' is a being apart; who belongs to none

but you。〃



〃'Henriette' is slow to die;〃 she said; with a gentle smile; 〃but die

she will at the first effort of the humble Christian; the self…

respecting mother; she whose virtue tottered yesterday and is firm

to…day。 What may I say to you? This。 My life has been; and is;

consistent with itself in all its circumstances; great and small。 The

heart to which the rootlets of my first affection should have clung;

my mother's heart; was closed to me; in spite of my persistence in

seeking a cleft through which they might have slipped。 I was a girl; I

came after the death of three boys; and I vainly strove to take their

place in the hearts of my parents; the wound I gave to the family

pride was never healed。 When my gloomy childhood was over and I knew

my aunt; death took her from me all too soon。 Monsieur de Mortsauf; to

whom I vowed myself; has repeatedly; nay without respite; smitten me;

not being himself aware of it; poor man! His love has the simple…

minded egotism our children show to us。 He has no conception of the

harm he does me; and he is heartily forgiven for it。 My children;

those dear children who are bound to my flesh through their

sufferings; to my soul by their characters; to my nature by their

innocent happiness;those children were surely given to show me how

much strength and patience a mother's breast contains。 Yes; my

children are my virtues。 You know how my heart has been harrowed for

them; by them; in spite of them。 To be a mother was; for me; to buy

the right to suffer。 When Hagar cried in the desert an angel came and

opened a spring of living water for that poor slave; but I; when the

limpid stream to which (do you remember?) you tried to guide me flowed

past Clochegourde; its waters changed to bitterness for me。 Yes; the

sufferings you have inflicted on my soul are terrible。 God; no doubt;

will pardon those who know affection only through its pains。 But if

the keenest of these pains has come to me through you; perhaps I

deserved them。 God is not unjust。 Ah; yes; Felix; a kiss furtively

taken may be a crime。 Perhaps it is just that a woman should harshly

expiate the few steps taken apart from husband and children that she

might walk alone with thoughts and memories that were not of them; and

so walking; marry her soul to another。 Perhaps it is the worst of

crimes when the inward being lowers itself to the region of human

kisses。 When a woman bends to receive her husband's kiss with a mask

upon her face; that is a crime! It is a crime to think of a future

springing from a death; a crime to imagine a motherhood without

terrors; handsome children playing in the evening with a beloved

father before the eyes of a happy mother。 Yes; I sinned; sinned

greatly。 I have loved the penances inflicted by the Church;which did

not redeem the faults; for the priest was too indulgent。 God has

placed the punishment in the faults themselves; committing the

execution of his vengeance to the one for whom the faults were

committed。 When I gave my hair; did I not give myself? Why did I so

often dress in white? because I seemed the more your lily; did you not

see me here; for the first time; all in white? Alas! I have loved my

children less; for all intense affection is stolen from the natural

affections。 Felix; do you not see that all suffering has its meaning。

Strike me; wound me even more than Monsieur de Mortsauf and my

children's state have wounded me。 That woman is the instrument of

God's anger; I will meet her without hatred; I will smile upon her;

under pain of being neither Christian; wife; nor mother; I ought to

love her。 If; as you tell me; I contributed to keep your heart

unsoiled by the world; that Englishwoman ought not to hate me。 A woman

should love the mother of the man she loves; and I am your mother。

What place have I sought in your heart? that left empty by Madame de

Vandenesse。 Yes; yes; you have always complained of my coldness; yes;

I am indeed your mother only。 Forgive me therefore the involuntary

harshness with which I met you on your return; a mother ought to

rejoice that her son is so well loved〃



She laid her head for a moment on my breast; repeating the words;

〃Forgive me! oh; forgive me!〃 in a voice that was neither her girlish

voice with its joyous notes; nor the woman's voice with despotic

endings; not the sighing sound of the mother's woe; but an agonizing

new voice for new sorrows。



〃You; Felix;〃 she presently continued; growing animated; 〃you are the

friend who can do no wrong。 Ah! you have lost nothing in my heart; do

not blame yourself; do not feel the least remorse。 It was the height

of selfishness in me to ask you to sacrifice the joys of life to an

impossible future; impossible; because to realize it a woman must

abandon her children; abdicate her position; and renounce eternity。

Many a time I have thought you higher than I; you were great and

noble; I; petty and criminal。 Well; well; it is settled now; I can be

to you no more than a light from above; sparkling and cold; but

unchanging。 Only; Felix; let me not love the brother I have chosen

without return。 Love me; cherish me! The love of a sister has no

dangerous to…morrow; no hours of difficulty。 You will
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