dona perecta-第2章

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port　of　a　bereavement　in　it；　the　consolation　of　feeling　that　for　those　who　have　suffered　unto　death；　nothing　can　harm　them　more；　that　even　for　those　who　have　inflicted　their　suffering　this　peace　will　soon　come。

〃Is　Perez　Galdos　a　pessimist？〃　asks　the　critic　Clarin。　〃No；　certainly；　but　if　he　is　not；　why　does　he　paint　us　sorrows　that　seem　inconsolable？　Is　it　from　love　of　paradox？　Is　it　to　show　that　his　genius；　which　can　do　so　much；　can　paint　the　shadow　lovelier　than　the　light？　Nothing　of　this。　Nothing　that　is　not　serious；　honest；　and　noble；　is　to　be　found　in　this　novelist。　Are　they　pessimistic；　those　ballads　of　the　North；　that　always　end　with　vague　resonances　of　woe？　Are　they　pessimists；　those　singers　of　our　own　land；　who　surprise　us　with　tears　in　the　midst　of　laughter？　Is　Nature　pessimistic；　who　is　so　sad　at　nightfall　that　it　seems　as　if　day　were　dying　forever？　。　。　。　The　sadness　of　art；　like　that　of　nature；　is　a　form　of　hope。　Why　is　Christianity　so　artistic？　Because　it　is　the　religion　of　sadness。〃


W。　D。　HOWELLS。




DONA　PERFECTA



CHAPTER　I

VILLAHORRENDA！　FIVE　MINUTES！

When　the　down　train　No。　65of　what　line　it　is　unnecessary　to　say　stopped　at　the　little　station　between　kilometres　171　and　172；　almost　all　the　second…and　third…class　passengers　remained　in　the　cars；　yawning　or　asleep；　for　the　penetrating　cold　of　the　early　morning　　did　not　invite　to　a　walk　on　the　unsheltered　platform。　The　only　first…class　passenger　on　the　train　alighted　quickly；　and　addressing　a　group　　of　the　employes　asked　them　if　this　was　the　Villahorrenda　station。

〃We　are　in　Villahorrenda；〃　answered　the　conductor　whose　voice　was　drowned　by　the　cackling　of　the　hens　which　were　at　that　moment　being　lifted　into　the　freight　car。　〃I　forgot　to　call　you；　Senor　de　Rey。　I　think　they　are　waiting　for　you　at　the　station　with　the　beasts。〃

〃Why；　how　terribly　cold　it　is　here！〃　said　the　traveller；　drawing　his　cloak　more　closely　about　him。　〃Is　there　no　place　in　the　station　where　I　could　rest　for　a　while；　and　get　warm；　before　undertaking　a　journey　on　horseback　through　this　frozen　country？〃

Before　he　had　finished　speaking　the　conductor；　called　away　by　the　urgent　duties　of　his　position；　went　off；　leaving　our　unknown　cavalier's　question　unanswered。　The　latter　saw　that　another　employe　was　coming　toward　him；　holding　a　lantern　in　his　right　hand；　that　swung　back　and　forth　as　he　walked；　casting　the　light　on　the　platform　of　the　station　in　a　series　of　zigzags；　like　those　described　by　the　shower　from　a　watering…pot。

〃Is　there　a　restaurant　or　a　bedroom　in　the　station　of　Villahorrenda？〃　said　the　traveller　to　the　man　with　the　lantern。

〃There　is　nothing　here；〃　answered　the　latter　brusquely；　running　toward　the　men　who　were　putting　the　freight　on　board　the　cars；　and　assuaging　them　with　such　a　volley　of　oaths；　blasphemies；　and　abusive　epithets　that　the　very　chickens；　scandalized　by　his　brutality；　protested　against　it　from　their　baskets。

〃The　best　thing　I　can　do　is　to　get　away　from　this　place　as　quickly　as　possible；〃　said　the　gentlemen　to　himself。　〃The　conductor　said　that　the　beasts　were　here。〃

Just　as　he　had　come　to　this　conclusion　he　felt　a　thin　hand　pulling　him　gently　and　respectfully　by　the　cloak。　He　turned　round　and　saw　a　figure　enveloped　in　a　gray　cloak；　and　out　of　whose　voluminous　folds　peeped　the　shrivelled　and　astute　countenance　of　a　Castilian　peasant。　He　looked　at　the　ungainly　figure；　which　reminded　one　of　the　black　poplar　among　trees；　he　observed　the　shrewd　eyes　that　shone　from　beneath　the　wide　brim　of　the　old　velvet　hat；　the　sinewy　brown　hand　that　grasped　a　green　switch；　and　the　broad　foot　that；　with　every　movement；　made　the　iron　spur　jingle。

〃Are　you　Senor　Don　Jose　de　Rey？〃　asked　the　peasant；　raising　his　hand　to　his　hat。

〃Yes；　and　you；　I　take　it；〃　answered　the　traveller　joyfully；　〃are　Dona　Perfecta's　servant；　who　have　come　to　the　station　to　meet　me　and　show　me　the　way　to　Orbajosa？〃

〃The　same。　Whenever　you　are　ready　to　start。　The　pony　runs　like　the　wind。　And　Senor　Don　Jose；　I　am　sure；　is　a　good　rider。　For　what　comes　by　race…？

〃Which　is　the　way　out？〃　asked　the　traveller；　with　impatience。　〃Come；　let　us　start；　senor？What　is　your　name？〃

〃My　name　is　Pedro　Lucas；〃　answered　the　man　of　the　gray　cloak；　again　making　a　motion　to　take　off　his　hat；　〃but　they　call　me　Uncle　Licurgo。　Where　is　the　young　gentleman's　baggage？〃

〃There　it　is？there　under　the　cloak。　There　are　three　pieces？two　portmanteaus　and　a　box　of　books　for　Senor　Don　Cayetano。　Here　is　the　check。〃

A　moment　later　cavalier　and　squire　found　themselves　behind　the　barracks　called　a　depot；　and　facing　a　road　which；　starting　at　this　point；　disappeared　among　the　neighboring　hills；　on　whose　naked　slopes　could　be　vaguely　distinguished　the　miserable　hamlet　of　Villahorrenda。　There　were　three　animals　to　carry　the　men　and　the　luggage。　A　not　ill…　looking　nag　was　destined　for　the　cavalier；　Uncle　Licurgo　was　to　ride　a　venerable　hack；　somewhat　loose　in　the　joints；　but　sure…footed；　and　the　mule；　which　was　to　be　led　by　a　stout　country　boy　of　active　limbs　and　fiery　blood；　was　to　carry　the　luggage。

Before　the　caravan　had　put　itself　in　motion　the　train　had　started；　and　was　now　creeping　along　the　road　with　the　lazy　deliberation　of　a　way　train；　awakening；　as　it　receded　in　the　distance；　deep　subterranean　echoes。　As　it　entered　the　tunnel　at　kilometre　172；　the　steam　issued　from　the　steam　whistle　with　a　shriek　that　resounded　through　the　air。　From　the　dark　mouth　of　the　tunnel　came　volumes　of　whitish　smoke；　a　succession　of　shrill　screams　like　the　blasts　of　a　trumpet　followed；　and　at　the　sound　of　its　stentorian　voice　villages；　towns；　the　whole　surrounding　country　awoke。　Here　a　cock　began　to　crow；　further　on　another。　Day　was　beginning　to　dawn。



CHAPTER　II

A　JOURNEY　IN　THE　HEART　OF　SPAIN

When　they　had　proceeded　some　distance　on　their　way　and　had　left　behind　them　the　hovels　of　Villahorrenda；　the　traveller；　who　was　young　and　handsome　spoke　thus：

〃Tell　me；　Senor　Solon…？

〃Licurgo；　at　your　service。〃

〃Senor　Licurgo；　I　mean。　But　I　was　right　in　giving　you　the　name　of　a　wise　legislator　of　antiquity。　Excuse　the　mistake。　But　to　come　to　the　point。　Tell　me；　how　is　my　aunt？〃

〃As　handsome　as　ever；〃　answered　the　peasant；　pushing　his　beast　forward　a　little。　〃Time　seems　to　stand　still　with　Senora　Dona　Perfecta。　They　say　that　God　gives　long　life　to　the　good；　and　if　that　is　so　that　angel　of　the　Lord　ought　to　live　a　thousand　years。　If　all　the　blessings　that　are　showered　on　her　in　this　world　were　feathers；　the　senora　would　need　no　other　wings　to　go　up　to　heaven　with。〃

〃And　my　cousin；　Senorita　Rosario？〃

〃The　senora　over　again！〃　said　the　peasant。　〃What　more　can　I　tell　you　of　Dona　Rosarito　but　that　that　she　is　the　living　image　of　her　mother？　You　will　have　a　treasure；　Senor　Don　Jose；　if　it　is　true；　as　I　hear；　that　you　have　come　to　be　married　to　her。　She　will　be　a　worthy　mate　for　you；　and　the　young　lady　will　have　nothing　to　complain　of；　either。　Between　Pedro　and　Pedro　the　difference　is　not　very　great。〃

〃And　Senor　Don　Cayetano？〃

〃Buried　in　his　books　as　usual。　He　has　a　library　bigger　than　the　cathedral；　and　he　roots　up　the　earth；　besides；　searching　for　stones　covered　with　fantastical　scrawls；　that　were　written；　they　say；　by　the　Moors。〃

〃How　soon　shall　we　reach　Orbajosa？〃

〃By　nine　o'clock；　God　willing。　How　delighted　the　senora　will　be　when　she　sees　her　nephew！　And　yesterday；　Senorita　Rosario　was　putting　the　room　you　are　to　have　in　order。　As　they　have　never　seen　you；　both　mother　and　daughter　think　of　nothing　else　but　what　Senor　Don　Jose　is　like；　or　is　not　like。　The　time　has　now　come　for　letters　to　be　silent　and　tongues　to　talk。　The　young　lady　will　see　her　cousin　and　all　will　be　joy　and　merry…making。　If　God　wills；　all　will　end　happily；　as　the　saying　is。〃

〃As　neither　my　aunt　nor　my　cousin　has　yet　seen　me；〃　said　the　traveller　smiling；　〃it　is　not　wise　to　make　plans。〃

〃That's　true；　for　that　reason　it　was　said　that　the　bay　horse　is　of　one　mind　and　he　who　saddles　him　of　another；〃　answered　the　peasant。　〃But　the　face　does　not　lie。　What　a　jewel　you　are　getting！　and　she；　what　a　handsome　man！〃

The　young　man　did　not　hear　Uncle　Licurgo's　last　words；　for　he　was　preoccupied　with　his　own　thoughts。　Arrived　at　a　bend　in　the　road；　the　peasant　turned　his　horse's　head　in　another　direction；　saying：

〃We　must　follow　this　path　now。　The　bridge　is　broken；　and　the　river　can　only　be　forded　at　the　Hill　of　the　Lilies。〃

〃The　Hill　of　the　Lilies；〃　repeated　the　cavalier；　emerging　from　his　revery。　〃How　abundant　beautiful　names　are　in　these　unattractive　localities！　Since　I　have　been　travelling　in　this　part　of　the　country　the　terrible　irony　of　the　names　is　a　constant　surprise　to　me。　Some　place　that　is　remarkable　for　its　barren　aspect　and　the　desolate　sadness　of　the　landscape　is　called　Valleameno　（Pleasant　Valley）。　Some　wretched　mud…walled　village　stretched　on　a　barren　plain　and　proclaiming　its　poverty　in　diverse　ways　has　the　insolence　to　call　itself　Villarica　（Rich　Town）；　and　some　arid　and　stony　ravine；　where　not　even　the　thistles　can　find　nourishment；　calls　itself；　nevertheless；　Valdeflores　（Vale　of　Flowers）。　That　hill　in　front　of　us　is　the　Hill　of　the　Lilies？　But　where；　in　Heaven's　name；　are　the　lilies？　I　see　nothing　but　stones　and　withered　grass。　Call　it　Hill　of　Desolation；　and　you　will　be　right。　With　the　exception　of　Villahorrenda；　whose　appearance　corresponds　with　its　name；　all　is　irony　here。　Beautiful　words；　a　prosaic　and　mean　reality。　The　blind　would　be　happy　in　this　country；　which　for　the　tongue　is　a　Paradise　and　for　the　eyes　a　hell。〃

Senor　Licurgo　either　did　not　hear　the　young　man's　words；　or；　hearing；　he　paid　no　attention　to　them。　When　they　had　forded　the　river；　which；　turbid　and　impetuous；　hurried　on　with　impatient　haste；　as　if　fleeing　from　its　own　hands；　the　peasant　pointed　with　outstretched　arm　to　some　barren　and　extensive　fields　that　were　to　be　seen　on　the　left；　and　said：

〃Those　are　the　Poplars　of　Bustamante。〃

〃My　lands！〃　exclaimed　the　traveller　joyfully；　gazing　at　the　melancholy　fields　illumined　by　the　early　morning　light。　〃For　the　first　time；　I　see　the　patrimony　which　I　inherited　from　my　mother。　The　poor　woman　used　to　praise　this　country　so　extravagantly；　and　tell　me　so　many　marvellous　things　about　it　when　I　was　a　child；　that　I　thought　that　to　be　here　was　to　be　in　heaven。　Fruits；　flowers；　game；　large　and　small；　mountains；　lakes；　rivers；　romantic　streams；　pastoral　hills；　all　were　to　be　found　in　the　Poplars　of　Bustamante；　in　this　favored　land；　the　best　and　most　beautiful　on　the　earth。　But　what　is　to　be　said？　The　people　of　this　place　live　in　their　imaginations。　If　I　had　been　brought　here　in　my　youth；　when　I　shared　the　ideas　and　the　enthusiasm　of　my　dear　mother；　I　suppose　that　I；　too；　would　have　been　enchanted　with　these　bare　hills；　these　arid　or　marshy　plains；　these　dilapidated　farmhouses；　these　rickety　norias；　whose　buckets　drip　water　enough　to　sprinkle　half　a　dozen　cabbages；　this　wretched　and　barren　desolation　that　surrounds　me。〃

〃It　is　the　best　land　in　the　country；〃　said　Senor　Licurgo；　〃and　for　the　chick…pea；　there　is　no　other　like　it。〃

〃I　am　delighted　to　hear　it；　for　since　they　came　into　my　possession　these　famous　lands　have　never　brought　me　a　penny。〃

The　wise　legislator　of　Sparta　scratched　his　ear　and　ga