the crime of sylvestre bonnard-第2章

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〃That　is　very　sad；　Therese；　a　Christian　woman　much　less　well　provided　for　than　this　pagan；　Hamilcar　here！what　does　she　have　to　say？〃

〃Monsieur；　I　never　speak　to　those　people；　I　don't　know　what　she　says　or　what　she　sings。　　But　she　sings　all　day　long；　I　hear　her　from　the　stairway　whenever　I　am　going　out　or　coming　in。〃

〃Well！　the　heir　of　the　Coccoz　family　will　be　able　to　say；　like　the　Egg　in　the　village　riddle：　Ma　mere　me　fit　en　chantant。　＇〃My　mother　sang　when　she　brought　me　into　the　world。〃＇　　The　like　happened　in　the　case　of　Henry　IV。　　When　Jeanne　d'Albret　felt　herself　about　to　be　confined　she　began　to　sing　an　old　Bearnaise　canticle：

　〃Notre…Dame　du　bout　du　pont；　　　Venez　a　mon　aide　en　cette　heure！　　　Priez　le　Dieu　du　ciel　　　Qu'il　me　delivre　vite；　　　Qu'il　me　donne　un　garcon！

〃It　is　certainly　unreasonable　to　bring　little　unfortunates　into　the　world。　　But　the　thing　is　done　every　day；　my　dear　Therese　and　all　the　philosophers　on　earth　will　never　be　able　to　reform　the　silly　custom。　Madame　Coccoz　has　followed　it；　and　she　sings。　　This　is　creditable　at　all　events！　　But；　tell　me；　Therese；　have　you　not　put　the　soup　to　boil　to…day？〃

〃Yes；　Monsieur；　and　it　is　time　for　me　to　go　and　skim　it。〃

〃Good！　but　don't　forget；　Therese；　to　take　a　good　bowl　of　soup　out　of　the　pot　and　carry　it　to　Madame　Coccoz；　our　attic　neighbor。〃

My　housekeeper　was　on　the　point　of　leaving　the　room　when　I　added；　just　in　time：

〃Therese；　before　you　do　anything　else；　please　call　your　friend　the　porter；　and　tell　him　to　take　a　good　bundle　of　wood　out　of　our　stock　and　carry　it　up　to　the　attic　of　those　Coccoz　folks。　　See；　above　all；　that　he　puts　a　first…class　log　in　the　lota　real　Christmas　log。　　As　for　the　homunculus；　if　he　comes　back　again；　do　not　allow　either　himself　or　any　of　his　yellow　books　to　come　in　here。〃

Having　taken　all　these　little　precautions　with　the　refined　egotism　of　an　old　bachelor；　I　returned　to　my　catalogue　again。

With　what　surprise；　with　what　emotion；　with　what　anxiety　did　I　therein　discover　the　following　mention；　which　I　cannot　even　now　copy　without　feeling　my　hand　tremble：

〃LA　LEGENDE　DOREE　DE　JACQUES　DE　GENES　（Jacques　de　Voragine）；　traduction　francaise；　petit　in…4。

〃This　MS。　of　the　fourteenth　century　contains；　besides　the　tolerably　complete　translation　of　the　celebrated　work　of　Jacques　de　Voragine；　1。　The　Legends　of　Saints　Ferreol；　Ferrution；　Germain；　Vincent；　and　Droctoveus；　2。　A　poem　'On　the　Miraculous　Burial　of　Monsieur　Saint…Germain　of　Auxerre。'　　This　translation；　as　well　as　the　legends　and　the　poem；　are　due　to　the　Clerk　Alexander。

〃This　MS。　is　written　upon　vellum。　　It　contains　a　great　number　of　illuminated　letters；　and　two　finely　executed　miniatures；　in　a　rather　imperfect　state　of　preservation：one　represents　the　Purification　of　the　Virgin；　and　the　other　the　Coronation　of　Proserpine。〃

What　a　discovery！　　Perspiration　moistened　my　forehead；　and　a　veil　seemed　to　come　before　my　eyes。　　I　trembled；　I　flushed；　and；　without　being　able　to　speak；　I　felt　a　sudden　impulse　to　cry　out　at　the　top　of　my　voice。

What　a　treasure！　　For　more　than　forty　years　I　had　been　making　a　special　study　of　the　history　of　Christian　Gaul；　and　particularly　of　that　glorious　Abbey　of　Saint…Germain…des…Pres；　whence　issued　forth　those　King…Monks　who　founded　our　national　dynasty。　　Now；　despite　the　culpable　insufficiency　of　the　description　given；　it　was　evident　to　me　that　the　MS。　of　the　Clerk　Alexander　must　have　come　from　the　great　Abbey。　　Everything　proved　this　fact。　　All　the　legends　added　by　the　translator　related　to　the　pious　foundation　of　the　Abbey　by　King　Childebert。　　Then　the　legend　of　Saint…Droctoveus　was　particularly　significant；　being　the　legend　of　the　first　abbot　of　my　dear　Abbey。　　The　poem　in　French　verse　on　the　burial　of　Saint…Germain　led　me　actually　into　the　nave　of　that　venerable　basilica　which　was　the　umbilicus　of　Christian　Gaul。

The　〃Golden　Legend〃　is　in　itself　a　vast　and　gracious　work。　　Jacques　de　Voragine；　Definitor　of　the　Order　of　Saint…Dominic；　and　Archbishop　of　Genoa；　collected　in　the　thirteenth　century　the　various　legends　of　Catholic　saints；　and　formed　so　rich　a　compilation　that　from　all　the　monasteries　and　castles　of　the　time　there　arouse　the　cry：　　〃This　is　the　'Golden　Legend。'〃　　The　〃Legende　Doree〃　was　especially　opulent　in　Roman　hagiography。　　Edited　by　an　Italian　monk；　it　reveals　its　best　merits　in　the　treatment　of　matters　relating　to　the　terrestrial　domains　of　Saint　Peter。　　Voragine　can　only　perceive　the　greater　saints　of　the　Occident　as　through　a　cold　mist。　　For　this　reason　the　Aquitanian　and　Saxon　translators　of　the　good　legend…writer　were　careful　to　add　to　his　recital　the　lives　of　their　own　national　saints。

I　have　read　and　collated　a　great　many　manuscripts　of　the　〃Golden　Legend。〃　　I　know　all　those　described　by　my　learned　colleague；　M。　Paulin　Paris；　in　his　handsome　catalogue　of　the　MSS。　of　the　Biblotheque　du　Roi。　　There　were　two　among　them　which　especially　drew　my　attention。　One　is　of　the　fourteenth　century　and　contains　a　translation　by　Jean　Belet；　the　other；　younger　by　a　century；　presents　the　version　of　Jacques　Vignay。　　Both　come　from　the　Colbert　collection；　and　were　placed　on　the　shelves　of　that　glorious　Colbertine　library　by　the　Librarian　Baluzewhose　name　I　can　never　pronounce　without　uncovering　my　head；　for　even　in　the　century　of　the　giants　of　erudition；　Baluze　astounds　by　his　greatness。　　I　know　also　a　very　curious　codex　in　the　Bigot　collection；　I　know　seventy…four　printed　editions　of　the　work；　commencing　with　the　venerable　ancestor　of　allthe　Gothic　of　Strasburg；　begun　in　1471；　and　finished　in　1475。　　But　no　one　of　those　MSS。；　no　one　of　those　editions；　contains　the　legends　of　Saints　Ferreol；　Ferrution；　Germain；　Vincent；　and　Droctoveus；　no　one　bears　the　name　of　the　Clerk　Alexander；　no　one；　in　find；　came　from　the　Abbey　of　Saint…Germain…des…Pres。　　Compared　with　the　MS。　described　by　Mr。　Thompson；　they　are　only　as　straw　to　gold。　　I　have　seen　with　my　eyes；　I　have　touched　with　my　fingers；　an　incontrovertible　testimony　to　the　existence　of　this　document。　　But　the　document　itselfwhat　has　become　of　it？　　Sir　Thomas　Raleigh　went　to　end　his　days　by　the　shores　of　the　Lake　of　Como；　whither　he　carried　with　him　a　part　of　his　literary　wealth。　　Where　did　the　books　go　after　the　death　of　that　aristocratic　collector？　　Where　could　the　manuscript　of　the　Clerk　Alexander　have　gone？

〃And　why；〃　I　asked　myself；　〃why　should　I　have　learned　that　this　precious　book　exists；　if　I　am　never　to　possess　itnever　even　to　see　it？　　I　would　go　to　seek　it　in　the　burning　heart　of　Africa；　or　in　the　icy　regions　of　the　Pole　if　I　knew　it　were　there。　　But　I　do　not　know　where　it　is。　　I　do　not　know　if　it　be　guarded　in　a　triple…　locked　iron　case　by　some　jealous　biblomaniac。　　I　do　not　know　if　it　be　growing　mouldy　in　the　attic　of　some　ignoramus。　　I　shudder　at　the　thought　that　perhaps　its　tore…out　leaves　may　have　been　used　to　cover　the　pickle…jars　of　some　housekeeper。〃



August　30；　1850


The　heavy　heat　compelled　me　to　walk　slowly。　　I　kept　close　to　the　walls　of　the　north　quays；　and；　in　the　lukewarm　shade；　the　shops　of　the　dealers　in　old　books；　engravings；　and　antiquated　furniture　drew　my　eyes　and　appealed　to　my　fancy。　　Rummaging　and　idling　among　these；　I　hastily　enjoyed　some　verses　spiritedly　thrown　off　by　a　poet　of　the　Pleiad。　　I　examined　an　elegant　Masquerade　by　Watteau。　　I　felt；　with　my　eye；　the　weight　of　a　two…handed　sword；　a　steel　gorgerin；　a　morion。　　What　a　thick　helmet！　　What　a　ponderous　breastplate　Seigneur！　　A　giant's　garb？　　Nothe　carapace　of　an　insect。　　The　men　of　those　days　were　cuirassed　like　beetles；　their　weakness　was　within　them。　　To…day；　on　the　contrary；　our　strength　is　interior；　and　our　armed　souls　dwell　in　feeble　bodies。

。。。Here　is　a　pastel…portrait　of　a　lady　of　the　old　timethe　face；　vague　like　a　shadow；　smiles；　and　a　hand；　gloved　with　an　openwork　mitten；　retains　upon　her　satiny　knees　a　lap…dog；　with　a　ribbon　about　its　neck。　That　picture　fills　me　with　a　sort　of　charming　melancholy。　Let　those　who　have　no　half…effaced　pastels　in　their　own　hearts　laugh　at　me！　　Like　the　horse　that　scents　the　stable；　I　hasten　my　pace　as　I　near　my　lodgings。　　There　it　isthat　great　human　hive；　in　which　I　have　a　cell；　for　the　purpose　of　therein　distilling　the　somewhat　acrid　honey　of　erudition。　　I　climb　the　stairs　with　slow　effort。　　Only　a　few　steps　more；　and　I　shall　be　at　my　own　door。　　But　I　divine；　rather　than　see；　a　robe　descending　with　a　sound　of　rustling　silk。　I　stop；　and　press　myself　against　the　balustrade　to　make　room。　　The　lady　who　is　coming　down　is　bareheaded；　shi　is　young；　she　sings；　her　eyes　and　teeth　gleam　in　the　shadow；　for　she　laughs　with　lips　and　eyes　at　the　same　time。　　She　is　certainly　a　neighbor；　and　a　very　familiar　one。　　She　holds　in　her　arms　a　pretty　child；　a　little　boy　quite　naked；　like　the　son　of　a　goddess；　he　has　a　medal　hung　round　his　neck　by　a　little　silver　chain。　　I　see　him　sucking　his　thumb　and　looking　at　me　with　those　big　eyes　so　newly　opened　on　this　old　universe。　The　mother　simultaneously　looks　at　me　in　a　sly；　mysterious　way；　she　stopsI　think　blushes　a　littleand　holds　out　the　little　creature　to　me。　　The　baby　has　a　pretty　wrinkle　between　wrist　and　arm；　a　pretty　wrinkle　about　his　neck；　and　all　over　him；　from　head　to　foot；　the　daintiest　dimples　laugh　in　his　rosy　flesh。

The　mamma　shows　him　to　me　with　pride。

〃Monsieur；〃　she　says；　〃don't　you　think　he　is　very　prettymy　little　boy？〃

She　takes　one　tiny　hand；　lifts　it　to　the　child's　own　lips；　and；　drawing　out　the　darling　pink　fingers　again　towards　me；　says；

〃Baby；　throw　the　gentleman　a　kiss。〃

Then；　folding　the　little　being　in　her　arms；　she　flees　away　with　the　agility　of　a　cat；　and　is　lost　to　sight　in　a　corridor　which；　judging　by　the　odour；　must　lead　to　some　kitchen。

I　enter　my　own　quarters。

〃Therese；　who　can　that　young　mother　be　whom　I　saw　bareheaded　on　the　stairs　just　now；　with　a　pretty　little　boy？〃

And　Therese　replies　that　it　was　Madame　Coccoz。

I　stare　up　at　the　ceiling；　as　if　trying　to　obtain　some　further　illumination。　　Therese　then　recalls　to　me　the　little　book…peddler　who　tried　to　sell　me　almanacs　last　year；　while　his　wife　was　lying　in。

〃And　Coccoz　himself？〃　I　asked。

I　was　answered　that　I　would　never　see　him　again。　　The　poor　little　man　had　been　laid　away　underground；　without　my　knowledge；　and；　indeed；　with　the　knowledge　of　very　few　people；　on　a　short　time　after　the　happy　delivery　of　Madame　Coccoz。　　I　leaned　that　his　wife　had　been　able　to　console　herself：　　I　did　likewise。

〃But；　Therese；〃　I　asked；　〃has　Madame　Coccoz　got　everything　she　needs　in　that　attic　of　hers？〃

〃You　would　be　a　great　dupe；　Monsieur；〃　replied　my　housekeeper；　〃if　you　should　bother　yourself　about　that　creature。　　They　gave　her　notice　to　quit　the　attic　when　the　roof　was　repaired。　　But　she　stays　there　yetin　spite　of　the　proprietor；　the　agent；　the　concierge；　and　the　bailiffs。　　I　think　she　has　bewitched　every　one　of　them。　　She　will　leave　the　attic　when　she　pleases；　Monsieur；　but　she　is　going　to　leave　in　her　own　carriage。　　Let　me　tell　you　that！〃

Therese　reflected　for　a　moment；　and　then　uttered　these　words：

〃A　pretty　face　is　a　curse　from　Heaven。〃

〃Then　I　ought　to　thank　Heaven　for　having　spared　me　that　curse。　　But　here！　put　my　hat　and　cane　away。　　I　am　going　to　amuse　myself　with　a　few　pages　of　Moreri。　　If　I　can