modeste mignon-第16章

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　　known　through　the　experience　of　another　all　the　horrors　and　the

　　delights　of　love。　I　know　what　baseness　the　human　heart　can

　　contain；　what　infamy；　yet　I　myself　am　an　honest　girl。　No；　I　have

　　no　illusions；　but　I　have　something　better；　something　real；I　have

　　beliefs　and　a　religion。　See！　I　open　the　ball　of　our　confidences。



　　Whoever　I　marryprovided　I　choose　him　for　myselfmay　sleep　in

　　peace　or　go　to　the　East　Indies　sure　that　he　will　find　me　on　his

　　return　working　at　the　tapestry　which　I　began　before　he　left　me；

　　and　in　every　stitch　he　shall　read　a　verse　of　the　poem　of　which　he

　　has　been　the　hero。　Yes；　I　have　resolved　within　my　heart　never　to

　　follow　my　husband　where　he　does　not　wish　me　to　go。　I　will　be　the

　　divinity　of　his　hearth。　That　is　my　religion　of　humanity。　But　why

　　should　I　not　test　and　choose　the　man　to　whom　I　am　to　be　like　the

　　life　to　the　body？　Is　a　man　ever　impeded　by　life？　What　can　that

　　woman　be　who　thwarts　the　man　she　loves？an　illness；　a　disease；

　　not　life。　By　life；　I　mean　that　joyous　health　which　makes　each　hour

　　a　pleasure。



　　But　to　return　to　your　letter；　which　will　always　be　precious　to　me。

　　Yes；　jesting　apart；　it　contains　that　which　I　desired；　an

　　expression　of　prosaic　sentiments　which　are　as　necessary　to　family

　　life　as　air　to　the　lungs；　and　without　which　no　happiness　is

　　possible。　To　act　as　an　honest　man；　to　think　as　a　poet；　to　love　as

　　women　love；　that　is　what　I　longed　for　in　my　friend；　and　it　is　now

　　no　longer　a　chimera。



　　Adieu；　my　friend。　I　am　poor　at　this　moment。　That　is　one　of　the

　　reasons　why　I　cling　to　my　concealment；　my　mask；　my　impregnable

　　fortress。　I　have　read　your　last　verses　in　the　〃Revue；〃ah！　with

　　what　delight；　now　that　I　am　initiated　in　the　austere　loftiness　of

　　your　secret　soul。



　　Will　it　make　you　unhappy　to　know　that　a　young　girl　prays　for　you；

　　that　you　are　her　solitary　thought；without　a　rival　except　in　her

　　father　and　mother？　Can　there　be　any　reason　why　you　should　reject

　　these　pages　full　of　you；　written　for　you；　seen　by　no　eye　but

　　yours？　Send　me　their　counterpart。　I　am　so　little　of　a　woman　yet

　　that　your　confidencesprovided　they　are　full　and　truewill

　　suffice　for　the　happiness　of　your



O。　d'Este　M。





〃Good　heavens！　can　I　be　in　love　already？〃　cried　the　young　secretary；

when　he　perceived　that　he　had　held　the　above　letter　in　his　hands　more

than　an　hour　after　reading　it。　〃What　shall　I　do？　She　thinks　she　is

writing　to　the　great　poet！　Can　I　continue　the　deception？　Is　she　a

woman　of　forty；　or　a　girl　of　twenty？〃



Ernest　was　now　fascinated　by　the　great　gulf　of　the　unseen。　The　unseen

is　the　obscurity　of　infinitude；　and　nothing　is　more　alluring。　In　that

sombre　vastness　fires　flash；　and　furrow　and　color　the　abyss　with

fancies　like　those　of　Martin。　For　a　busy　man　like　Canalis；　an

adventure　of　this　kind　is　swept　away　like　a　harebell　by　a　mountain

torrent；　but　in　the　more　unoccupied　life　of　the　young　secretary；　this

charming　girl；　whom　his　imagination　persistently　connected　with　the

blonde　beauty　at　the　window；　fastened　upon　his　heart；　and　did　as　much

mischief　in　his　regulated　life　as　a　fox　in　a　poultry…yard。　La　Briere

allowed　himself　to　be　preoccupied　by　this　mysterious　correspondent；

and　he　answered　her　last　letter　with　another；　a　pretentious　and

carefully　studied　epistle；　in　which；　however；　passion　begins　to　reveal

itself　through　pique。



　　Mademoiselle；Is　it　quite　loyal　in　you　to　enthrone　yourself　in

　　the　heart　of　a　poor　poet　with　a　latent　intention　of　abandoning　him

　　if　he　is　not　exactly　what　you　wish；　leaving　him　to　endless

　　regrets；showing　him　for　a　moment　an　image　of　perfection；　were　it

　　only　assumed；　and　at　any　rate　giving　him　a　foretaste　of　happiness？

　　I　was　very　short…sighted　in　soliciting　this　letter；　in　which　you

　　have　begun　to　unfold　the　elegant　fabric　of　your　thoughts。　A　man

　　can　easily　become　enamored　with　a　mysterious　unknown　who　combines

　　such　fearlessness　with　such　originality；　so　much　imagination　with

　　so　much　feeling。　Who　would　not　wish　to　know　you　after　reading　your

　　first　confidence？　It　requires　a　strong　effort　on　my　part　to　retain

　　my　senses　in　thinking　of　you；　for　you　combine　all　that　can　trouble

　　the　head　or　the　heart　of　man。　I　therefore　make　the　most　of　the

　　little　self…possession　you　have　left　me　to　offer　you　my　humble

　　remonstrances。



　　Do　you　really　believe；　mademoiselle；　that　letters；　more　or　less

　　true　in　relation　to　the　life　of　the　writers；　more　or　less

　　insincere；for　those　which　we　write　to　each　other　are　the

　　expressions　of　the　moment　at　which　we　pen　them；　and　not　of　the

　　general　tenor　of　our　lives；do　you　believe；　I　say；　that　beautiful

　　as　they　may　be；　they　can　at　all　replace　the　representation　that　we

　　could　make　of　ourselves　to　each　other　by　the　revelations　of　daily

　　intercourse？　Man　is　dual。　There　is　a　life　invisible；　that　of　the

　　heart；　to　which　letters　may　suffice；　and　there　is　a　life　material；

　　to　which　more　importance　is；　alas；　attached　than　you　are　aware　of

　　at　your　age。　These　two　existences　must；　however；　be　made　to

　　harmonize　in　the　ideal　which　you　cherish；　and　this；　I　may　remark

　　in　passing；　is　very　rare。



　　The　pure；　spontaneous；　disinterested　homage　of　a　solitary　soul

　　which　is　both　educated　and　chaste；　is　one　of　those　celestial

　　flowers　whose　color　and　fragrance　console　for　every　grief；　for

　　every　wound；　for　every　betrayal　which　makes　up　the　life　of　a

　　literary　man；　and　I　thank　you　with　an　impulse　equal　to　your　own。

　　But　after　this　poetical　exchange　of　my　griefs　for　the　pearls　of

　　your　charity；　what　next？　what　do　you　expect？　I　have　neither　the

　　genius　nor　the　splendid　position　of　Lord　Byron；　above　all；　I　have

　　not　the　halo　of　his　fictitious　damnation　and　his　false　social

　　woes。　But　what　could　you　have　hoped　from　him　in　like

　　circumstances？　His　friendship？　Well；　he　who　ought　to　have　felt

　　only　pride　was　eaten　up　by　vanity　of　every　kind；sickly；

　　irritable　vanity　which　discouraged　friendship。　I；　a　thousand…fold

　　more　insignificant　than　he；　may　I　not　have　discordances　of

　　character；　and　make　friendship　a　burden　heavy　indeed　to　bear？　In

　　exchange　for　your　reveries；　what　will　you　gain？　The

　　dissatisfaction　of　a　life　which　will　not　be　wholly　yours。　The

　　compact　is　madness。　Let　me　tell　you　why。　In　the　first　place；　your

　　projected　poem　is　a　plagiarism。　A　young　German　girl；　who　was　not；

　　like　you；　semi…German；　but　altogether　so；　adored　Goethe　with　the

　　rash　intoxication　of　girlhood。　She　made　him　her　friend；　her

　　religion；　her　god；　knowing　at　the　same　time　that　he　was　married。

　　Madame　Goethe；　a　worthy　German　woman；　lent　herself　to　this　worship

　　with　a　sly　good…nature　which　did　not　cure　Bettina。　But　what　was

　　the　end　of　it　all？　The　young　ecstatic　married　a　man　who　was

　　younger　and　handsomer　than　Goethe。　Now；　between　ourselves；　let　us

　　admit　that　a　young　girl　who　should　make　herself　the　handmaid　of　a

　　man　of　genius；　his　equal　through　comprehension；　and　should　piously

　　worship　him　till　death；　like　one　of　those　divine　figures　sketched

　　by　the　masters　on　the　shutters　of　their　mystic　shrines；　and　who；

　　when　Germany　lost　him；　should　have　retired　to　some　solitude　away

　　from　men；　like　the　friend　of　Lord　Bolingbroke；let　us　admit；　I

　　say；　that　the　young　girl　would　have　lived　forever；　inlaid　in　the

　　glory　of　the　poet　as　Mary　Magdalene　in　the　cross　and　triumph　of

　　our　Lord。　If　that　is　sublime；　what　say　you　to　the　reverse　of　the

　　picture？　As　I　am　neither　Goethe　nor　Lord　Byron；　the　colossi　of

　　poetry　and　egotism；　but　simply　the　author　of　a　few　esteemed

　　verses；　I　cannot　expect　the　honors　of　a　cult。　Neither　am　I

　　disposed　to　be　a　martyr。　I　have　ambition；　and　I　have　a　heart；　I　am

　　still　young　and　I　have　my　career　to　make。　See　me　for　what　I　am。

　　The　bounty　of　the　king　and　the　protection　of　his　ministers　give　me

　　sufficient　means　of　living。　I　have　the　outward　bearing　of　a　very

　　ordinary　man。　I　go　to　the　soirees　in　Paris　like　any　other　empty…

　　headed　fop；　and　if　I　drive；　the　wheels　of　my　carriage　do　not　roll

　　on　the　solid　ground；　absolutely　indispensable　in　these　days；　of

　　property　invested　in　the　funds。　But　if　I　am　not　rich；　neither　do　I

　　have　the　reliefs　and　consolations　of　life　in　a　garret；　the　toil

　　uncomprehended；　the　fame　in　penury；　which　belong　to　men　who　are

　　worth　far　more　than　I；D'Arthez；　for　instance。



　　Ah！　what　prosaic　conclusions　will　your　young　enthusiasm　find　to

　　these　enchanting　visions。　Let　us　stop　here。　If　I　have　had　the

　　happiness　of　seeming　to　you　a　terrestrial　paragon；　you　have　been

　　to　me　a　thing　of　light　and　a　beacon；　like　those　stars　that　shine

　　for　　a　moment　and　disappear。　May　nothing　ever　tarnish　this　episode

　　of　our　lives。　Were　we　to　continue　it　I　might　love　you；　I　might

　　conceive　one　of　those　mad　passions　which　rend　all　obstacles；　which

　　light　fires　in　the　heart　whose　violence　is　greater　than　their

　　duration。　And　suppose　I　succeeded　in　pleasing　you？　we　should　end

　　our　tale　in　the　common　vulgar　way；marriage；　a　household；

　　children；　Belise　and　Henriette　Chrysale　together！could　it　be？

　　Therefore；　adieu。







CHAPTER　X



THE　MARRIAGE　OF　SOULS



　　To　Monsieur　de　Canalis：



　　My　Friend；Your　letter　gives　me　as　much　pain　as　pleasure。　But

　　perhaps　some　day　we　shall　find　nothing　but　pleasure　in　writing　to

　　each　other。　Understand　me　thoroughly。　The　soul　speaks　to　God　and

　　asks　him　for　many　things；　he　is　mute。　I　seek　to　obtain　in　you　the

　　answers　that　God　does　not　make　to　me。　Cannot　the　friendship　of

　　Mademoiselle　de　Gournay　and　Montaigne　be　revived　in　us？　Do　you　not

　　remember　the　household　of　Sismonde　de　Sismondi　in　Geneva？　The　most

　　lovely　home　ever　known；　as　I　have　been　told；　something　like　that

　　of　the　Marquis　de　Pescaire　and　his　wife；happy　to　old　age。　Ah！

　　friend；　is　it　impossible　that　two　hearts；　two　harps；　should　exist

　　as　in　a　symphony；　answering　each　other　from　a　distance；　vibrating

　　with　delicious　melody　in　unison？　Man　alone　of　all　creation　is　in

　　himself　the　harp；　the　musician；　and　the　listener。　Do　you　think　to

　　find　me　uneasy　and　jealous　like　ordinary　women？　I　know　that　you　go

　　into　the　world　and　meet　the　handsomest　and　the　wittiest　women　in

　　Paris。　May　I　not　suppose　that　some　one　of　those　mermaids　has

　　deigned　to　clasp　you　in　her　cold　and　scaly　arms；　and　that　she　has

　　inspired　the　answer　whose　prosaic　opinions　sadden　me？　There　is

　　something　in　life　more　beautiful　than　the　garlands　of　Parisian

　　coquetry；　there　grows　a　flower　far　up　those　Alpine　peaks　called

　　men　of　genius；　the　glory　of　humanity；　which　they　fertilize　with

　　the　dews　their　lofty　heads　draw　from　the　skies。　I　seek　to

　　cultivate　that　flower　and　make　it　bloom；　for　its　wild　yet　gentle

　　fragrance　can　never　fail；it　is　eternal。



　　Do　me　the　honor　to　believe　that　there　is　nothing　low　or

　　commonplace　in　me。　Were　I　Bettin