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！
enthusiasm。 She expressed neither fear； nor regrets； nor desire； but
at a given hour her tenderness reappeared like a fire suddenly
lighted。
In which of these two women ought I to believe？ I felt； as it were by
a thousand pin…pricks； the infinite differences between Henriette and
Arabella。 When Madame de Mortsauf left me for a while she seemed to
leave to the air the duty of reminding me of her； the folds of her
gown as she went away spoke to the eye； as their undulating sound to
the ear when she returned； infinite tenderness was in the way she
lowered her eyelids and looked on the ground； her voice； that musical
voice； was a continual caress； her words expressed a constant thought；
she was always like unto herself； she did not halve her soul to suit
two atmospheres； one ardent； the other icy。 In short； Madame de
Mortsauf reserved her mind and the flower of her thought to express
her feelings； she was coquettish in ideas with her children and with
me。 But Arabella's mind was never used to make life pleasant； it was
never used at all for my benefit； it existed only for the world and by
the world； and it was spent in sarcasm。 She loved to rend； to bite； as
it were；not for amusement but to satisfy a craving。 Madame de
Mortsauf would have hidden her happiness from every eye； Lady Dudley
chose to exhibit hers to all Paris； and yet with her impenetrable
English mask she kept within conventions even while parading in the
Bois with me。 This mixture of ostentation and dignity； love and
coldness； wounded me constantly； for my soul was both virgin and
passionate； and as I could not pass from one temperature to the other；
my temper suffered。 When I complained （never without precaution）； she
turned her tongue with its triple sting against me； mingling boasts of
her love with those cutting English sarcasms。 As soon as she found
herself in opposition to me； she made it an amusement to hurt my
feelings and humiliate my mind； she kneaded me like dough。 To any
remark of mine as to keeping a medium in all things； she replied by
caricaturing my ideas and exaggerating them。 When I reproached her for
her manner to me； she asked if I wished her to kiss me at the opera
before all Paris； and she said it so seriously that I； knowing her
desire to make people talk； trembled lest she should execute her
threat。 In spite of her real passion she was never meditative； self…
contained； or reverent； like Henriette； on the contrary she was
insatiable as a sandy soil。 Madame de Mortsauf was always composed；
able to feel my soul in an accent or a glance。 Lady Dudley was never
affected by a look； or a pressure of the hand； nor yet by a tender
word。 No proof of love surprised her。 She felt so strong a necessity
for excitement； noise； celebrity； that nothing attained to her ideal
in this respect； hence her violent love； her exaggerated fancy；
everything concerned herself and not me。
The letter you have read from Madame de Mortsauf （a light which still
shone brightly on my life）； a proof of how the most virtuous of women
obeyed the genius of a Frenchwoman； revealing； as it did； her
perpetual vigilance； her sound understanding of all my prospectsthat
letter must have made you see with what care Henriette had studied my
material interests； my political relations； my moral conquests； and
with what ardor she took hold of my life in all permissible
directions。 On such points as these Lady Dudley affected the reticence
of a mere acquaintance。 She never informed herself about my affairs；
nor of my likings or dislikings as a man。 Prodigal for herself without
being generous； she separated too decidedly self…interest and love。
Whereas I knew very well； without proving it； that to save me a pang
Henriette would have sought for me that which she would never seek for
herself。 In any great and overwhelming misfortune I should have gone
for counsel to Henriette； but I would have let myself be dragged to
prison sooner than say a word to Lady Dudley。
Up to this point the contrast relates to feelings； but it was the same
in outward things。 In France； luxury is the expression of the man； the
reproduction of his ideas； of his personal poetry； it portrays the
character； and gives； between lovers； a precious value to every little
attention by keeping before them the dominant thought of the being
loved。 But English luxury； which at first allured me by its choiceness
and delicacy； proved to be mechanical also。 The thousand and one
attentions shown me at Clochegourde Arabella would have considered the
business of servants； each one had his own duty and speciality。 The
choice of the footman was the business of her butler； as if it were a
matter of horses。 She never attached herself to her servants； the
death of the best of them would not have affected her； for money could
replace the one lost by another equally efficient。 As to her duty
towards her neighbor； I never saw a tear in her eye for the
misfortunes of another； in fact her selfishness was so naively candid
that it absolutely created a laugh。 The crimson draperies of the great
lady covered an iron nature。 The delightful siren who sounded at night
every bell of her amorous folly could soon make a young man forget the
hard and unfeeling Englishwoman； and it was only step by step that I
discovered the stony rock on which my seeds were wasted； bringing no
harvest。 Madame de Mortsauf had penetrated that nature at a glance in
their brief encounter。 I remembered her prophetic words。 She was
right； Arabella's love became intolerable to me。 I have since remarked
that most women who ride well on horseback have little tenderness。
Like the Amazons； they lack a breast； their hearts are hard in some
direction； but I do not know in which。
At the moment when I begin to feel the burden of the yoke； when
weariness took possession of soul and body too； when at last I
comprehended the sanctity that true feeling imparts to love； when
memories of Clochegourde were bringing me； in spite of distance； the
fragrance of the roses； the warmth of the terrace； and the warble of
the nightingales；at this frightful moment； when I saw the stony bed
beneath me as the waters of the torrent receded； I received a blow
which still resounds in my heart； for at every hour its echo wakes。
I was working in the cabinet of the king； who was to drive out at four
o'clock。 The Duc de Lenoncourt was on service。 When he entered the
room the king asked him news of the countess。 I raised my head hastily
in too eager a manner； the king； offended by the action； gave me the
look which always preceded the harsh words he knew so well how to say。
〃Sire； my poor daughter is dying；〃 replied the duke。
〃Will the king deign to grant me leave of absence？〃 I cried； with
tears in my eyes； braving the anger which I saw about to burst。
〃Go； MY LORD；〃 he answered； smiling at the satire in his words； and
withholding his reprimand in favor of his own wit。
More court