生命不能承受之轻-第16章

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onged　to　come　to　the　end　of　the　dangerous　road　of　betrayals。　She　had　longed　to　call　a　halt　to　it　all。
Try　as　she　might　to　intensify　that　longing；　summon　it　to　her　aid；　lean　on　it；　the　feeling　of　distaste　only　grew　stronger。
They　walked　back　to　the　hotel　through　the　streets　of　Rome。　Because　the　Italians　around　them　were　making　a　racket；　shouting　and　gesticulating；　they　could　walk　along　in　silence　without　hearing　their　silence。
Sabina　spent　a　long　time　washing　in　the　bathroom；　Franz　waited　for　her　under　the　blanket。　As　always；　the　small　lamp　was　lit。
When　she　came　out；　she　turned　it　off。　It　was　the　first　time　she　had　done　so。　Franz　should　have　paid　better　attention。　He　did　not　notice　it；　because　light　did　not　mean　anything　to　him。　As　we　know；　he　made　love　with　his　eyes　shut。
In　fact；　it　was　his　closed　eyes　that　made　Sabina　turn　out　the　light。　She　could　not　stand　those　lowered　eyelids　a　moment　longer。　The　eyes；　as　the　saying　goes；　are　windows　to　the　soul。　Franz's　body；　which　thrashed　about　on　top　of　hers　with　closed　eyes；　was　therefore　a　body　without　a　soul。　It　was　like　a　newborn　animal；　still　blind　and　whimpering　for　the　dug。　Muscular　Franz　in　coitus　was　like　a　gigantic　puppy　suckling　at　her　breasts。　He　actually　had　her　nipple　in　his　mouth　as　if　he　were　sucking　milk！　The　idea　that　he　was　a　mature　man　below　and　a　suckling　infant　above；　that　she　was　therefore　having　intercourse　with　a　baby；　bordered　on　the　disgusting。　No；　she　would　never　again　see　his　body　moving　desperately　over　hers；　would　never　again　offer　him　her　breast；　bitch　to　whelp；　today　was　the　last　time；　irrevocably　the　last　time！
She　knew；　of　course；　that　she　was　being　supremely　unfair；　that　Franz　was　the　best　man　she　had　ever　had—he　was　intelligent；　he　understood　her　paintings；　he　was　handsome　and　good—but　the　more　she　thought　about　it；　the　more　she　longed　to　ravish　his　intelligence；　defile　his　kindheartedness；　and　violate　his　powerless　strength。
That　night；　she　made　love　to　him　with　greater　frenzy　than　ever　before；　aroused　by　the　realization　that　this　was　the　last　time。　Making　love；　she　was　far；　far　away。　Once　more　she　heard　the　golden　horn　of　betrayal　beckoning　her　in　the　distance；　and　she　knew　she　would　not　hold　out。　She　sensed　an　expanse　of　freedom　before　her；　and　the　boundlessness　of　it　excited　her。　She　made　mad；　unrestrained　love　to　Franz　as　she　never　had　before。

117
Franz　sobbed　as　he　lay　on　top　of　her；　he　was　certain　he　understood：　Sabina　had　been　quiet　all　through　dinner　and　said　not　a　word　about　his　decision；　but　this　was　her　answer。　She　had　made　a　clear　show　of　her　joy；　her　passion；　her　consent；　her　desire　to　live　with　him　forever。
He　felt　like　a　rider　galloping　off　into　a　magnificent　void；　a　void　of　no　wife；　no　daughter；　no　household；　the　magnificent　void　swept　clean　by　Hercules'　broom；　a　magnificent　void　he　would　fill　with　his　love。
Each　was　riding　the　other　like　a　horse；　and　both　were　galloping　off　into　the　distance　of　their　desires；　drunk　on　the　betrayals　that　freed　them。　Franz　was　riding　Sabina　and　had　betrayed　his　wife；　Sabina　was　riding　Franz　and　had　betrayed　Franz。
9
For　twenty　years　he　had　seen　his　mother—a　poor；　weak　creature　who　needed　his　protection—in　his　wife。　This　image　was　deeply　rooted　in　him；　and　he　could　not　rid　himself　of　it　in　two　dys。　On　the　way　home　his　conscience　began　to　bother　him：　he　was　afraid　that　Marie…Claude　had　fallen　apart　after　he　left　and　that　he　would　find　her　terribly　sick　at　heart。　Stealthily　he　unlocked　the　door　and　went　into　his　room。　He　stood　there　for　a　moment　and　listened：　Yes；　she　was　at　home。　After　a　moment's　hesitation　he　went　into　her　room；　ready　to　greet　her　as　usual。
What？　she　exclaimed；　raising　her　eyebrows　in　mock　surprise。　You？　Here？　
Where　else　can　I　go？　he　wanted　to　say　（genuinely　surprised）；　but　said　nothing。
Let's　set　the　record　straight；　shall　we？　I　have　nothing　against　your　moving　in　with　her　at　once。　
When　he　made　his　confession　on　the　day　he　left　for　Rome；　he　had　no　precise　plan　of　action。　He　expected　to　come　home　and　talk　it　all　out　in　a　friendly　atmosphere　so　as　not　to　harm　Marie…Claude　any　more　than　necessary。　It　never　occurred　to　him　that　she　would　calmly　and　coolly　urge　him　to　leave。
Even　though　it　facilitated　things；　he　could　not　help　feeling　disappointed。　He　had　been　afraid　of　wounding　her　all　his　life　and　voluntarily　stuck　to　a　stultifying　discipline　of　monogamy；　and　now；　after　twenty　years；　he　suddenly　learned　that　it　had　all　been　superfluous　and　he　had　given　up　scores　of　women　because　of　a　misunderstanding！
That　afternoon；　he　gave　his　lecture；　then　went　straight　to　Sabina's　from　the　university。　He　had　decided　to　ask　her　whether　he　could　spend　the　night。　He　rang　the　doorbell；　but　no　one　answered。　He　went　and　sat　at　the　cafe　across　the　street　and　stared　long　and　hard　at　the　entrance　to　her　building。
Evening　came；　and　he　did　not　know　where　to　turn。　All　his　life　he　had　shared　his　bed　with　Marie…Claude。　If　he　went　home　to　Marie…Claude；　where　should　he　sleep？　He　could；　of　course；　make　up　a　bed　on　the　sofa　in　the　next　room。　But　wouldn't　that　be　merely　an　eccentric　gesture？　Wouldn't　it　look　like　a　sign　of　ill　will？　He　wanted　to　remain　friends　with　her；　after　all！　Yet　getting　into　bed　with　her　was　out　of　the　question。　He　could　just　hear　her　asking　him　ironically　why　he　didn't　prefer　Sabina's　bed。　He　took　a　room　in　a　hotel。
The　next　day；　he　rang　Sabina's　doorbell　morning；　noon；　and　night。
The　day　after；　he　paid　a　visit　to　the　concierge；　who　had　no　information　and　referred　him　to　the　owner　of　the　flat。　He　phoned　her　and　found　out　that　Sabina　had　given　notice　two　days　before。
During　the　next　few　days；　he　returned　at　regular　intervals；　still　hoping　to　find　her　in；　but　one　day　he　found　the　door　open　and　three　men　in　overalls　loading　the　furniture　and　paintings　into　a　van　parked　outside。
He　asked　them　where　they　were　taking　the　furniture。
They　replied　that　they　were　under　strict　instructions　not　to　reveal　the　address。
He　was　about　to　offer　them　a　few　francs　for　the　secret　address　when　suddenly　he　felt　he　lacked　the　strength　to　do　it。　His　grief　had　broken　him　utterly。　He　understood　nothing；　had　no　idea　what　had　happened；　all　he　knew　was　that　he　had　been　waiting　for　it　to　happen　ever　since　he　met　Sabina。　What　must　be　must　be。　Franz　did　not　oppose　it。
He　found　a　small　flat　for　himself　in　the　old　part　of　town。　When　he　knew　his　wife　and　daughter　were　away；　he　went　back　to　his　former　home　to　fetch　his　clothes　and　most　essential　books。　He　was　careful　to　remove　nothing　that　Marie…Claude　might　miss。
One　day；　he　saw　her　through　the　window　of　a　cafe。　She　was　sitting　with　two　women；　and　her　face；　long　riddled　with　wrinkles　from　her　unbridled　gift　for　grimaces；　was　in　a　state　of　animation。　The　women　were　listening　closely　and　laughing　continually。　Franz　could　not　get　over　the　feeling　that　she　was　telling　them　about　him。　Surely　she　knew　that　Sabina　had　disappeared　from　Geneva　at　the　very　time　Franz　decided　to　live　with　her。　What　a　funny　story　it　would　make！　He　was　not　the　least　bit　surprised　at　becoming　a　butt　to　his　wife's　friends。
When　he　got　home　to　his　new　flat；　where　every　hour　he　could　hear　the　bells　of　Saint…Pierre；　he　found　that　the　department　store　had　delivered　his　new　desk。　He　promptly　forgot　about　Marie…Claude　and　her　friends。　He　even　forgot　about　Sabina　for　the　time　being。　He　sat　down　at　the　desk。　He　was　glad　to　have　picked　it　out　himself。　For　twenty　years　he　had　lived　among　furniture　not　of　his　own　choosing。　Marie…Claude　had　taken　care　of　everything。　At　last　he　had　ceased　to　be　a　little　boy；　for　the　first　time　in　his　life　he　was　on　his　own。　The　next　day　he　hired　a　carpenter　to　make　a　bookcase　for　him。　He　spent　several　days　designing　it　and　deciding　where　it　should　stand。
And　at　some　point；　he　realized　to　his　great　surprise　that　he　was　not　particularly　unhappy。　Sabina's　physical　presence　was　much　less　important　than　he　had　suspected。　What　was　important　was　the　golden　footprint；　the　magic　footprint　she　had　left　on　his　life　and　no　one　could　ever　remove。　Just　before　disappearing　from　his　horizon；　she　had　slipped　him　Hercules'　broom；　and　he　had　used　it　to　sweep　everything　he　despised　out　of　his　life。　A　sudden　happiness；　a　feeling　of　bliss；　the　joy　that　came　of　freedom　and　a　new　life—these　were　the　gifts　she　had　left　him。
Actually；　he　had　always　preferred　the　unreal　to　the　real。　Just　as　he　felt　better　at　demonstrations　（which；　as　I　have　pointed　out；　are　all　playacting　and　dreams）　than　in　a　lecture　hall　full　of　students；　so　he　was　happier　with　Sabina　the　invisible　goddess　than　the　Sabina　who　had　accompanied　him　throughout　the　world　and　whose　love　he　constantly　feared　losing。　By　giving　him　the　unexpected　freedom　of　a　man　living　on　his　own；　she　provided　him　with　a　halo　of　seductiveness。　He　became　very　attractive　to　women；　and　one　of　his　students　fell　in　love　with　him。
And　so　within　an　amazingly　short　period　the　backdrop　of　his　life　had　changed　completely。　Until　recently　he　had　lived　in　a　large　upper…middle…class　flat　with　a　servant；　a　daughter；　and　a　wife；　now　he　lived　in　a　tiny　flat　in　the　old　part　of　town；　where　almost　every　night　he　was　joined　by　his　young　student…mistress。　He　did　not　need　to　squire　her　through　the　world　from　hotel　to　hotel；　he　could　make　love　to　her　in　his　own　flat；　in　his　own　bed；　with　his　own　books　and　ashtray　on　the　bedside　table！
She　was　a　modest　girl　and　not　particularly　pretty；　but　she　admired　Franz　in　the　way　Franz　had　only　recently　admired　Sabina。　He　did　not　find　it　unpleasant。　And　if　he　did　perhaps　feel　that　trading　Sabina　for　a　student　with　glasses　was　something　for　a　comedown；　his　innate　goodness　saw　to　it　that　he　cared　for　her　and　lavished　on　her　the　paternal　love　that　had　never　had　a　true　outlet　before；　given　that　Marie…Anne　had　always　behaved　less　like　his　daughter　than　like　a　copy　of　Marie…Claude。
One　day；　he　paid　a　visit　to　his　wife。　He　told　her　he　would　like　to　remarry。
Marie…Claude　shook　her　head。
But　a　divorce　won't　make　any　difference　to　you！　You　won't　lose　a　thing！　I'll　give　you　all　the　property！　
I　don't　care　about　property；　she　said。
Then　what　do　you　care　about？　
Love；　she　said　with　a　smile。
Love？　Franz　asked　in　amazement。
Love　is　a　battle；　said　Marie…Claude；　still　smiling。　And　I　plan　to　go　on　fighting。　To　the　end。　
Love　is　a　battle？　said　Franz。　Well；　I　don't　feel　at　all　like　fighting。　And　he　left。
10
After　four　years　in　Geneva；　Sabina　settled　in　Paris；　but　she　could　not　escape　her　melancholy。　If　someone　had　asked　her　what　had　come　over　her；　she　would　have　been　hard　pressed　to　find　words　for　it。
When　we　want　to　give　expression　to　a　dramatic　situation　in　our　lives；　we　tend　to　use　metaphors　of　heaviness。　We　say　that　something　has　become　a　great　burden　to　us。　We　either　bear　the　burden　or　fail　and　go　down　with　it；　we　struggle　with　it；　win　or　lose。　And　Sabina—what　had　come　over　her？　Nothing。　She　had　left　a　man　because　she　felt　like　leaving　him。　Had　he　persecuted　her？　Had　he　tried　to　take　revenge　on　her？　No。　Her　drama　was　a　drama　not　of　heaviness　but　of　lightness。　What　fell　to　her　lot　was　not　the　burden　but　the　unbearable　lightness　of　being。
Until　that　time；　her　betrayals　had　filled　her　with　excitement　and　joy；　because　they　opened　up　new　paths　to　new　adventures　of　betrayal。　But　what　if　the　paths　came　to　an　end？　One　could　betray　one's　parents