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the black tulip(黑郁金香)-第28部分
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〃But with whom else?〃
〃He was after my bulb; and is in love with my tulip!〃
〃You don't say so! And yet it is very possible;〃 said Rosa。
〃Will you make sure of it?〃
〃In what manner?〃
〃Oh; it would be very easy!〃
〃Tell me。〃
〃Go to…morrow into the garden; manage matters so that Jacob
may know; as he did the first time; that you are going
there; and that he may follow you。 Feign to put the bulb
into the ground; leave the garden; but look through the
keyhole of the door and watch him。〃
〃Well; and what then?〃
〃What then? We shall do as he does。〃
〃Oh!〃 said Rosa; with a sigh; 〃you are very fond of your
bulbs。〃
〃To tell the truth;〃 said the prisoner; sighing likewise;
〃since your father crushed that unfortunate bulb; I feel as
if part of my own self had been paralyzed。〃
〃Now just hear me;〃 said Rosa; 〃will you try something
else?〃
〃What?〃
〃Will you accept the proposition of my father?〃
〃Which proposition?〃
〃Did not he offer to you tulip bulbs by hundreds?〃
〃Indeed he did。〃
〃Accept two or three; and; along with them; you may grow the
third sucker。〃
〃Yes; that would do very well;〃 said Cornelius; knitting his
brow; 〃if your father were alone; but there is that Master
Jacob; who watches all our ways。〃
〃Well; that is true; but only think! you are depriving
yourself; as I can easily see; of a very great pleasure。〃
She pronounced these words with a smile; which was not
altogether without a tinge of irony。
Cornelius reflected for a moment; he evidently was
struggling against some vehement desire。
〃No!〃 he cried at last; with the stoicism of a Roman of old;
〃it would be a weakness; it would be a folly; it would be a
meanness! If I thus give up the only and last resource which
we possess to the uncertain chances of the bad passions of
anger and envy; I should never deserve to be forgiven。 No;
Rosa; no; to…morrow we shall come to a conclusion as to the
spot to be chosen for your tulip; you will plant it
according to my instructions; and as to the third sucker;〃
Cornelius here heaved a deep sigh; 〃watch over it as a
miser over his first or last piece of gold; as the mother
over her child; as the wounded over the last drop of blood
in his veins; watch over it; Rosa! Some voice within me
tells me that it will be our saving; that it will be a
source of good to us。〃
〃Be easy; Mynheer Cornelius;〃 said Rosa; with a sweet
mixture of melancholy and gravity; 〃be easy; your wishes are
commands to me。〃
〃And even;〃 continued Van Baerle; warming more and more with
his subject; 〃if you should perceive that your steps are
watched; and that your speech has excited the suspicion of
your father and of that detestable Master Jacob; well;
Rosa; don't hesitate for one moment to sacrifice me; who am
only still living through you; me; who have no one in the
world but you; sacrifice me; don't come to see me any
more。〃
Rosa felt her heart sink within her; and her eyes were
filling with tears。
〃Alas!〃 she said。
〃What is it?〃 asked Cornelius。
〃I see one thing。〃
〃What do you see?〃
〃I see;〃 said she; bursting out in sobs; 〃I see that you
love your tulips with such love as to have no more room in
your heart left for other affections。〃
Saying this; she fled。
Cornelius; after this; passed one of the worst nights he
ever had in his life。
Rosa was vexed with him; and with good reason。 Perhaps she
would never return to see the prisoner; and then he would
have no more news; either of Rosa or of his tulips。
We have to confess; to the disgrace of our hero and of
floriculture; that of his two affections he felt most
strongly inclined to regret the loss of Rosa; and when; at
about three in the morning; he fell asleep overcome with
fatigue; and harassed with remorse; the grand black tulip
yielded precedence in his dreams to the sweet blue eyes of
the fair maid of Friesland。
Chapter 19
The Maid and the Flower
But poor Rosa; in her secluded chamber; could not have known
of whom or of what Cornelius was dreaming。
From what he had said she was more ready to believe that he
dreamed of the black tulip than of her; and yet Rosa was
mistaken。
But as there was no one to tell her so; and as the words of
Cornelius's thoughtless speech had fallen upon her heart
like drops of poison; she did not dream; but she wept。
The fact was; that; as Rosa was a high…spirited creature; of
no mean perception and a noble heart; she took a very clear
and judicious view of her own social position; if not of her
moral and physical qualities。
Cornelius was a scholar; and was wealthy; at least he had
been before the confiscation of his property; Cornelius
belonged to the merchant…bourgeoisie; who were prouder of
their richly emblazoned shop signs than the hereditary
nobility of their heraldic bearings。 Therefore; although he
might find Rosa a pleasant companion for the dreary hours of
his captivity; when it came to a question of bestowing his
heart it was almost certain that he would bestow it upon a
tulip; that is to say; upon the proudest and noblest of
flowers; rather than upon poor Rosa; the jailer's lowly
child。
Thus Rosa understood Cornelius's preference of the tulip to
herself; but was only so much the more unhappy therefor。
During the whole of this terrible night the poor girl did
not close an eye; and before she rose in the morning she had
come to the resolution of making her appearance at the
grated window no more。
But as she knew with what ardent desire Cornelius looked
forward to the news about his tulip; and as; notwithstanding
her determination not to see any more a man her pity for
whose fate was fast growing into love; she did not; on the
other hand; wish to drive him to despair; she resolved to
continue by herself the reading and writing lessons; and;
fortunately; she had made sufficient progress to dispense
with the help of a master when the master was not to be
Cornelius。
Rosa therefore applied herself most diligently to reading
poor Cornelius de Witt's Bible; on the second fly leaf of
which the last will of Cornelius van Baerle was written。
〃Alas!〃 she muttered; when perusing again this document;
which she never finished without a tear; the pearl of love;
rolling from her limpid eyes on her pale cheeks 〃alas! at
that time I thought for one moment he loved me。〃
Poor Rosa! she was mistaken。 Never had the love of the
prisoner been more sincere than at the time at which we are
now arrived; when in the contest between the black tulip and
Rosa the tulip had had to yield to her the first and
foremost place in Cornelius's heart。
But Rosa was not aware of it。
Having finished reading; she took her pen; and began with as
laudable diligence the by far more difficult task of
writing。
As; however; Rosa was already able to write a legible hand
when Cornelius so uncautiously opened his heart; she did not
despair of progressing quickly enough to write; after eight
days at the latest; to the prisoner an account of his tulip。
She had not forgotten one word of the directions given to
her by Cornelius; whose speeches she treasured in her heart;
even when they did not take the shape of directions。
He; on his part; awoke deeper in love than ever。 The tulip;
indeed; was still a luminous and prominent object in his
mind; but he no longer looked upon it as a treasure to which
he ought to sacrifice everything; and even Rosa; but as a
marvellous combination of nature and art with which he would
have been happy to adorn the bosom of his beloved one。
Yet during the whole of that day he was haunted with a vague
uneasiness; at the bottom of which was the fear lest Rosa
should not come in the evening to pay him her usual visit。
This thought took more and more hold of him; until at the
approach of evening his whole mind was absorbed in it。
How his heart beat when darkness closed in! The words which
he had said to Rosa on the evening before and which had so
deeply afflicted her; now came back to his mind more vividly
than ever; and he asked himself how he could have told his
gentle comforter to sacrifice him to his tulip; that is
to say; to give up seeing him; if need be; whereas to him
the sight of Rosa had become a condition of life。
In Cornelius's cell one heard the chimes of the clock of the
fortress。 It struck seven; it struck eight; it struck nine。
Never did the metal voice vibrate more forcibly through the
heart of any man than did the last stroke; marking the ninth
hour; through the heart of Cornelius。
All was then silent again。 Cornelius put his hand on his
heart; to repress as it were its violent palpitation; and
listened。
The noise of her footstep; the rustling of her gown on the
staircase; were so familiar to his ear; that she had no
sooner mounted one step than he used to say to himself;
〃Here comes Rosa。〃
This evening none of those little noises broke the silence
of the lobby; the clock struck nine; and a quarter; the
half…hour; then a quarte
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