the lily of the valley-第50部分

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the　glorious　love　of　angels！　I　have　traversed　vast　tracts　of　thought

since　you　returned　here。　I　have　judged　life。　Lift　up　the　soul　and　you

rend　it；　the　higher　we　go　the　less　sympathy　we　meet；　instead　of

suffering　in　the　valley；　we　suffer　in　the　skies；　as　the　soaring　eagle

bears　in　his　heart　the　arrow　of　some　common　herdsman。　I　comprehend　at

last　that　earth　and　heaven　are　incompatible。　Yes；　to　those　who　would

live　in　the　celestial　sphere　God　must　be　all　in　all。　We　must　love　our

friends　as　we　love　our　children；for　them；　not　for　ourselves。　Self　is

the　cause　of　misery　and　grief。　My　soul　is　capable　of　soaring　higher

than　the　eagle；　there　is　a　love　which　cannot　fail　me。　But　to　live　for

this　earthly　life　is　too　debasing；here　the　selfishness　of　the　senses

reigns　supreme　over　the　spirituality　of　the　angel　that　is　within　us。

The　pleasures　of　passion　are　stormy；　followed　by　enervating　anxieties

which　impair　the　vigor　of　the　soul。　I　came　to　the　shores　of　the　sea

where　such　tempests　rage；　I　have　seen　them　too　near；　they　have　wrapped

me　in　their　clouds；　the　billows　did　not　break　at　my　feet；　they　caught

me　in　a　rough　embrace　which　chilled　my　heart。　No！　I　must　escape　to

higher　regions；　I　should　perish　on　the　shores　of　this　vast　sea。　I　see

in　you；　as　in　all　others　who　have　grieved　me；　the　guardian　of　my

virtue。　My　life　has　been　mingled　with　anguish；　fortunately

proportioned　to　my　strength；　it　has　thus　been　kept　free　from　evil

passions；　from　seductive　peace；　and　ever　near　to　God。　Our　attachment

was　the　mistaken　attempt；　the　innocent　effort　of　two　children　striving

to　satisfy　their　own　hearts；　God；　and　menfolly；　Felix！　Ah；〃　she　said

quickly；　〃what　does　that　woman　call　you？〃



〃'Amedee；'〃　I　answered；　〃'Felix'　is　a　being　apart；　who　belongs　to　none

but　you。〃



〃'Henriette'　is　slow　to　die；〃　she　said；　with　a　gentle　smile；　〃but　die

she　will　at　the　first　effort　of　the　humble　Christian；　the　self…

respecting　mother；　she　whose　virtue　tottered　yesterday　and　is　firm

to…day。　What　may　I　say　to　you？　This。　My　life　has　been；　and　is；

consistent　with　itself　in　all　its　circumstances；　great　and　small。　The

heart　to　which　the　rootlets　of　my　first　affection　should　have　clung；

my　mother's　heart；　was　closed　to　me；　in　spite　of　my　persistence　in

seeking　a　cleft　through　which　they　might　have　slipped。　I　was　a　girl；　I

came　after　the　death　of　three　boys；　and　I　vainly　strove　to　take　their

place　in　the　hearts　of　my　parents；　the　wound　I　gave　to　the　family

pride　was　never　healed。　When　my　gloomy　childhood　was　over　and　I　knew

my　aunt；　death　took　her　from　me　all　too　soon。　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf；　to

whom　I　vowed　myself；　has　repeatedly；　nay　without　respite；　smitten　me；

not　being　himself　aware　of　it；　poor　man！　His　love　has　the　simple…

minded　egotism　our　children　show　to　us。　He　has　no　conception　of　the

harm　he　does　me；　and　he　is　heartily　forgiven　for　it。　My　children；

those　dear　children　who　are　bound　to　my　flesh　through　their

sufferings；　to　my　soul　by　their　characters；　to　my　nature　by　their

innocent　happiness；those　children　were　surely　given　to　show　me　how

much　strength　and　patience　a　mother's　breast　contains。　Yes；　my

children　are　my　virtues。　You　know　how　my　heart　has　been　harrowed　for

them；　by　them；　in　spite　of　them。　To　be　a　mother　was；　for　me；　to　buy

the　right　to　suffer。　When　Hagar　cried　in　the　desert　an　angel　came　and

opened　a　spring　of　living　water　for　that　poor　slave；　but　I；　when　the

limpid　stream　to　which　（do　you　remember？）　you　tried　to　guide　me　flowed

past　Clochegourde；　its　waters　changed　to　bitterness　for　me。　Yes；　the

sufferings　you　have　inflicted　on　my　soul　are　terrible。　God；　no　doubt；

will　pardon　those　who　know　affection　only　through　its　pains。　But　if

the　keenest　of　these　pains　has　come　to　me　through　you；　perhaps　I

deserved　them。　God　is　not　unjust。　Ah；　yes；　Felix；　a　kiss　furtively

taken　may　be　a　crime。　Perhaps　it　is　just　that　a　woman　should　harshly

expiate　the　few　steps　taken　apart　from　husband　and　children　that　she

might　walk　alone　with　thoughts　and　memories　that　were　not　of　them；　and

so　walking；　marry　her　soul　to　another。　Perhaps　it　is　the　worst　of

crimes　when　the　inward　being　lowers　itself　to　the　region　of　human

kisses。　When　a　woman　bends　to　receive　her　husband's　kiss　with　a　mask

upon　her　face；　that　is　a　crime！　It　is　a　crime　to　think　of　a　future

springing　from　a　death；　a　crime　to　imagine　a　motherhood　without

terrors；　handsome　children　playing　in　the　evening　with　a　beloved

father　before　the　eyes　of　a　happy　mother。　Yes；　I　sinned；　sinned

greatly。　I　have　loved　the　penances　inflicted　by　the　Church；which　did

not　redeem　the　faults；　for　the　priest　was　too　indulgent。　God　has

placed　the　punishment　in　the　faults　themselves；　committing　the

execution　of　his　vengeance　to　the　one　for　whom　the　faults　were

committed。　When　I　gave　my　hair；　did　I　not　give　myself？　Why　did　I　so

often　dress　in　white？　because　I　seemed　the　more　your　lily；　did　you　not

see　me　here；　for　the　first　time；　all　in　white？　Alas！　I　have　loved　my

children　less；　for　all　intense　affection　is　stolen　from　the　natural

affections。　Felix；　do　you　not　see　that　all　suffering　has　its　meaning。

Strike　me；　wound　me　even　more　than　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf　and　my

children's　state　have　wounded　me。　That　woman　is　the　instrument　of

God's　anger；　I　will　meet　her　without　hatred；　I　will　smile　upon　her；

under　pain　of　being　neither　Christian；　wife；　nor　mother；　I　ought　to

love　her。　If；　as　you　tell　me；　I　contributed　to　keep　your　heart

unsoiled　by　the　world；　that　Englishwoman　ought　not　to　hate　me。　A　woman

should　love　the　mother　of　the　man　she　loves；　and　I　am　your　mother。

What　place　have　I　sought　in　your　heart？　that　left　empty　by　Madame　de

Vandenesse。　Yes；　yes；　you　have　always　complained　of　my　coldness；　yes；

I　am　indeed　your　mother　only。　Forgive　me　therefore　the　involuntary

harshness　with　which　I　met　you　on　your　return；　a　mother　ought　to

rejoice　that　her　son　is　so　well　loved〃



She　laid　her　head　for　a　moment　on　my　breast；　repeating　the　words；

〃Forgive　me！　oh；　forgive　me！〃　in　a　voice　that　was　neither　her　girlish

voice　with　its　joyous　notes；　nor　the　woman's　voice　with　despotic

endings；　not　the　sighing　sound　of　the　mother's　woe；　but　an　agonizing

new　voice　for　new　sorrows。



〃You；　Felix；〃　she　presently　continued；　growing　animated；　〃you　are　the

friend　who　can　do　no　wrong。　Ah！　you　have　lost　nothing　in　my　heart；　do

not　blame　yourself；　do　not　feel　the　least　remorse。　It　was　the　height

of　selfishness　in　me　to　ask　you　to　sacrifice　the　joys　of　life　to　an

impossible　future；　impossible；　because　to　realize　it　a　woman　must

abandon　her　children；　abdicate　her　position；　and　renounce　eternity。

Many　a　time　I　have　thought　you　higher　than　I；　you　were　great　and

noble；　I；　petty　and　criminal。　Well；　well；　it　is　settled　now；　I　can　be

to　you　no　more　than　a　light　from　above；　sparkling　and　cold；　but

unchanging。　Only；　Felix；　let　me　not　love　the　brother　I　have　chosen

without　return。　Love　me；　cherish　me！　The　love　of　a　sister　has　no

dangerous　to…morrow；　no　hours　of　difficulty。　You　will　never　find　it

necessary　to　deceive　the　indulgent　heart　which　will　live　in　future

within　your　life；　grieve　for　your　griefs；　be　joyous　with　your　joys；

which　will　love　the　women　who　make　you　happy；　and　resent　their

treachery。　I　never　had　a　brother　to　love　in　that　way。　Be　noble　enough

to　lay　aside　all　self…love　and　turn　our　attachment；　hitherto　so

doubtful　and　full　of　trouble；　into　this　sweet　and　sacred　love。　In　this

way　I　shall　be　enabled　to　still　live。　I　will　begin　to…night　by　taking

Lady　Dudley's　hand。〃



She　did　not　weep　as　she　said　these　words　so　full　of　bitter　knowledge；

by　which；　casting　aside　the　last　remaining　veil　which　hid　her　soul

from　mine；　she　showed　by　how　many　ties　she　had　linked　herself　to　me；

how　many　chains　I　had　hewn　apart。　Our　emotions　were　so　great　that　for

a　time　we　did　not　notice　it　was　raining　heavily。



〃Will　Madame　la　comtesse　wait　here　under　shelter？〃　asked　the　coachman；

pointing　to　the　chief　inn　of　Ballan。



She　made　a　sign　of　assent；　and　we　stayed　nearly　half　an　hour　under　the

vaulted　entrance；　to　the　great　surprise　of　the　inn…people　who　wondered

what　brought　Madame　de　Mortsauf　on　that　road　at　eleven　o'clock　at

night。　Was　she　going　to　Tours？　Had　she　come　from　there？　When　the　storm

ceased　and　the　rain　turned　to　what　is　called　in　Touraine　a　〃brouee；〃

which　does　not　hinder　the　moon　from　shining　through　the　higher　mists

as　the　wind　with　its　upper　currents　whirls　them　away；　the　coachman

drove　from　our　shelter；　and；　to　my　great　delight；　turned　to　go　back

the　way　we　came。



〃Follow　my　orders；〃　said　the　countess；　gently。



We　now　took　the　road　across　the　Charlemagne　moor；　where　the　rain　began

again。　Half…way　across　I　heard　the　barking　of　Arabella's　dog；　a　horse

came　suddenly　from　beneath　a　clump　of　oaks；　jumped　the　ditch　which

owners　of　property　dig　around　their　cleared　lands　when　they　consider

them　suitable　for　cultivation；　and　carried　Lady　Dudley　to　the　moor　to

meet　the　carriage。



〃Wha