the lily of the valley-第50节
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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
