the crime of sylvestre bonnard(西维斯特·博拉德的罪行)-第26章
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mien； I have always preferred the folly of the passions to the wisdom of
indifference。 But just because my own passions are not of that sort which
burst out with violence to devastate and kill； the common mind is not
aware of their existence。 Nevertheless； I am greatly moved by them at
times； and it has more than once been my fate to lose my sleep for the sake
of a few pages written by some forgotten monk or printed by some humble
apprentice of Peter Schaeffer。 And if these fierce enthusiasms are slowly
being quenched in me； it is only because I am being slowly quenched
myself。 Our passions are ourselves。 My old books are Me。 I am just as old
and thumb…worn as they are。
A light breeze sweeps away； along with the dust of the pavements； the
winged seeds of the plane trees； and the fragments of hay dropped from
the mouths of the horses。 The dust is nothing remarkable in itself； but as I
watch it flying； I remember a moment in my childhood when I watched
just such a swirl of dust； and my old Parisian soul is much affected by that
sudden recollection。 All that I see from my windowthat horizon which
extends to the left as far as the hills of Chaillot； and enables me to
distinguish the Arc de Triomphe like a die of stone； the Seine； river of
glory； and its bridges； the ash…trees of the terrace of the Tuileries； the
Louvre of the Renaissance； cut and graven like goldsmithwork； and on my
right； towards the Pont…Neuf （pons Lutetiae Novus dictus； as it is named
on old engravings）； all the old and venerable part of Paris； with its towers
and spires：all that is my life； it is myself； and I should be nothing but for
all those things which are thus reflected in me through my thousand
varying shades of thought； inspiring me and animating me。 That is why I
love Paris with an immense love。
And nevertheless I am weary； and I know that there can be no rest for
me in the heart of this great city which thinks so much； which has taught
me to think； and which for ever urges me to think more。 And how avoid
being exited among all these books which incessantly tempt my curiosity
without ever satisfying it？ At one moment it is a date I have to look for； at
another it is the name of a place I have to make sure of； or some quaint
term of which it is important to determine the exact meaning。 Words？
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why； yes！ words。 As a philologist； I am their sovereign； they aer my
subjects； and； like a good king； I devote my whole life to them。 But shall I
not be able to abdicate some day？ I have an idea that there is somewhere
or other； quite far from here； a certain little cottage where I could enjoy the
quiet I so much need； while awaiting that day in which a greater quiet
that which can be never brokenshall come to wrap me all about。 I dream
of a bench before the threshold； and of fields spreading away out of sight。
But I must have a fresh smiling young face beside me； to reflect and
concentrate all that freshness of nature。 I could then imagine myself a
grandfather； and all the long void of my life would be filled。。。。
I am not a violent man； and yet I become easily vexed； and all my
works have caused me quite as much pain as pleasure。 And I do not know
how it is that I still keep thinking about that very conceited and very
inconsiderated impertinence which my young friend of the Luxembourg
took the liberty to utter about me some three months ago。 I do not call him
〃friend〃 in irony； for I love studious youth with all it temerities and
imaginative eccentricities。 Still； my young friend certainly went beyond all
bounds。 Master Ambroise Pare； who was the first to attempt the ligature of
arteries； and who； having commenced his profession at a time when
surgery was only performed by quack barbers； nevertheless succeeded in
lifting the science to the high place it now occupies； was assailed in his old
age by all the young sawbones' apprentices。 Being grossly abused during a
discussion by some young addlehead who might have been the best son in
the world； but who certainly lacked all sense of respect； the old master
answered him in his treatise De la Mumie； de la Licorne； des Venins et de
la Peste。 〃I pray him；〃 said the great man〃I pray him； that if he desire to
make any contradictions to my reply； he abandon all animosities； and treat
the good old man with gentleness。〃 This answer seems admirable from the
pen of Ambroise Pare； but even had it been written by a village bonesetter；
grown grey in his calling； and mocked by some young stripling； it would
still be worthy of all praise。
It might perhaps seem that my memory of the incident had been kept
alive only by a base feeling of resentment。 I thought so myself at first； and
reproached myself for thus dwelling on the saying of a boy who could not
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yet know the meaning of his own words。 But my reflections on this subject
subsequently took a better course： that is why I now note them down in
my diary。 I remembered that one day when I was twenty years old （that
was more than half a century ago） I was walking about in that very same
garden of the Luxembourg with some comrades。 We were talking about
our old professors； and one of us happened to name Monsieur Petit…Radel；
an estimable and learned man； who was the first to throw some light upon
the origins of early Etruscan civilisation； but who had been unfortunate
enough to prepare a chronological table of the lovers of Helen。 We all
laughed a great deal about that chronological table； and I cried out； 〃Petit…
Radel is an ass； not in three letters； but in twelve whole volumes！〃
This foolish speech of my adolescence was uttered too lightly to be a
weight on my conscience as an old man。 May God kindly prove to me
some day that I never used an less innocent shaft of speech in the battle of
life！ But I now ask myself whether I really never wrote； at any time in my
life； something quite as unconsciously absurd as the chronological table of
the lovers of Helen。 The progress of science renders useless the very books
which have been the greatest aids to that progress。 As those works are no
longer useful； modern youth is naturally inclined to believe they never had
any value； it despises them； and ridicules them if they happen to contain
any superannuated opinion whatever。 That is why； in my twentieth year； I
amused myself at the expense of Monsieur Petit…Radel and his
chronological table； and that was why； the other day； at the Luxembourg；
my young and irreverent friend。。。
〃Rentre en toi…meme； Octave； et cesse de te plaindre。 Quoi！ tu veux
qu'on t'epargne et n'as rien epargne！〃 ＇ 〃Look into thyself； Octavius； and
cease complaining。 What！ thou wouldst be spared； and thou thyself hast
spared none！〃＇
June 6。
It was the first Thursday in June。 I shut up my books and took my
leave of the holy abbot Droctoveus； who； being now in the enjoyment of
celestial bliss； cannot feel very impatient to behold his name and works
glorified on earth through the humble compilation being prepared by my
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hands。 Must I confess it？ That mallow…plant I saw visited by a bee the
other day has been occupying my thoughts much more than all the ancient
abbots who ever bore croisers or wore mitres。 There is in one of Sprengel's
books which I read in my youth； at that time when I used to read in my
youth； at that time when I used to read anything and everything； some
ideas about 〃the loves of flowers〃 which now return to memory after
having been forgotten for half a century； and which to…day interest me so
much that I regret not to have devoted the humble capacities of my mind
to the study of insects and of plants。
And only awhile ago my housekeeper surprised me at the kitchen
window； in the act of examining some wallflowers through a magnifying…
glass。。。。
It was while looking for my cravat that I made these reflections。 But
after searching to no purpose in a great number of drawers； I found myself
obliged； after all； to have recourse to my housekeeper。 Therese came
limping in。
〃Monsieur；〃 she said； 〃you ought to have told me you were going out；
and I would have given you your cravat！〃
〃But Therese；〃 I replied； 〃would it not be a great deal better to put in
some place where I could find it without your help？〃
Therese did not deign to answer me。
Therese no longer allows me to arrange anything。 I cannot even have a
handkerchief without asking her for it； and as she is deaf； crippled； and；
what is worse； beginning to lose her memory； I languish in perpetual
destitution。 But she exercises her domestic authority with such quiet pride
that I do not feel the courage to attempt a coup d'etat against her
government。
〃My cravat！ Therese！do you hear？my cravat！ if you drive me wild
like this with your slow ways； it will not be a cravat I shall need； but a
rope to hang myself！〃
〃You must be in a very great hurry； Monsieur；〃 replied Therese。 〃Your
cravat is not lost。 Nothing is ever lost in this house； because I have charge
of everything。 But please allow me the time at least to find it。〃
〃Yet here；〃 I thought to myself〃here is the result of half a century of
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devotedness and self…sacrifice！。。。 Ah！ if by any happy chance this
inexorable Therese had once in her whole life； only once； failed in her
duty as a servantif she had ever been at fault for one single instant； she
could never have assumed this inflexible authority over me； an
