the crime of sylvestre bonnard(西维斯特·博拉德的罪行)-第21节
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modelling statuettes like this one？〃
〃As for that； no！〃 I replied； 〃and I think there is no reason to regret the
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fact。 You say the girl is affectionate and sensitive； I can well believe you； I
could believe it from her face alone。 There are excitements in artist…life
which impel generous hearts to act out of all rule and measure。 This young
creature is made to love； keep her for the domestic hearth。 There only is
real happiness。〃
〃But she has no dowry！〃 replied Madame de Gabry。
Then； extending her hand to me； she continued：
〃You are our friend； I can tell you everything。 The father of this child
was a banker； and one of our friends。 He went into a colossal speculation；
and it ruined him。 He survived only a few months after his failure； in
which； as Paul must have told you； three…fourths of my uncle's fortune
were lost； and more than half of our own。
〃We had made his acquaintance at Manaco； during the winter we
passed there at my uncle's house。 He had an adventurous disposition； but
such an engaging manner！ He deceived himself before ever he deceived
others。 After all； it is in the ability to deceive oneself that the greatest
talent is shown； is it not？ Well； we were capturedmy husband； my uncle；
and I； and we risked much more than a reasonable amount in a very
hazardous undertaking。 But； bah！ as Paul says； since we have no children
we need not worry about it。 Besides； we have the satisfaction of knowing
that the friend in whom we trusted was an honest man。。。。 You must know
his name； it was so often in the papers an on public placardsNoel
Alexandre。 His wife was a very sweet person。 I knew her only when she
was already past her prime； with traces of having once been very pretty；
and a taste for fashionable style and display which seemed quite becoming
to her。 She was naturally fond of social excitement； but she showed a great
deal of courage and dignity after the death of her husband。 She died a year
after him； leaving Jeanne alone in the world。〃
〃Clementine！〃 I cried out。
And on thus learning what I had never imaginedthe mere idea of
which would have set all the forces of my soul in revoltupon hearing that
Clementine was no longer in this world； something like a great silence
came upon me； and the feeling which flooded my whole being was not a
keen； strong pain； but a quiet and solemn sorrow。 Yet I was conscious of
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some incomprehensible sense of alleviation； and my thought rose suddenly
to heights before unknown。
〃From wheresoever thou art at this moment； Clementine；〃 I said to
myself； 〃look down upon this old heart now indeed cooled by age； yet
whose blood once boiled for thy sake； and say whether it is not reanimated
by the mere thought of being able to love all that remains of thee on earth。
Everything passes away since thou thyself hast passed away； but Life is
immortal； it is that Life we must love in its forms eternally renewed。 All
the rest is child's play； and I myself； with all my books； am only like a
child playing with marbles。 The purpose of lifeit is thou； Clementine；
who has revealed it to me！〃。。。
Madame de Gabry aroused me from my thoughts by murmuring；
〃The child is poor。〃
〃The daughter of Clementine is poor！〃 I exclaimed aloud； 〃how
fortunate that is so！ I would not whish that any one by myself should
proved for her and dower her！ No！ the daughter of Clementine must not
have her dowry from any one but me。〃
And； approaching Madame de Gabry as she rose from her chair； I took
her right hand； I kissed that hand； and placed it on my arm； and said：
〃You will conduct me to the grave of the widow of Noel Alexandre。〃
And I heard Madame de Gabry asking me：
〃Why are you crying？〃
Chapter IV The Little Saint…George
April 16。
Saint Drocoveus and the early abbots of Saint…Germain…des…Pres
have been occupying me for the past forty years； but I do not know if I
shall be able to write their history before I go to join them。 It is already
quite a long time since I became an old man。 One day last year； on the
Pont des Arts； one of my fellow members at the Institute was lamenting
before me over the ennui of becoming old。
〃Still；〃 Saint…Beuve replied to him； 〃it is the only way that has yet
been found of living a long time。〃
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I have tried this way； and I know just what it is worth。 The trouble of it
is not that one lasts too long； but that one sees all about him pass away
mother； wife； friends； children。 Nature makes and unmakes all these divine
treasures with gloomy indifference； and at last we find that we have not
loved； we have only been embracing shadows。 But how sweet some
shadows are！ If ever creature glided like a shadow through the life of a
man； it was certainly that young girl whom I fell in love with when
incredible though it now seemsI was myself a youth。
A Christian sarcophagus from the catacombs of Rome bears a formula
of imprecation； the whole terrible meaning of which I only learned with
time。 It says： 〃Whatsoever impious man violates this sepulchre； may he
die the last of his own people！〃 In my capacity of archaeologist； I have
opened tombs and disturbed ashes in order to collect the shreds of apparel；
metal ornaments； or gems that were mingled with those ashes。 But I did it
only through that scientific curiosity which does not exclude feelings of
reverence and of piety。 May that malediction graven by some one of the
first followers of the apostles upon a martyr's tomb never fall upon me！ I
ought not to fear to survive my own people so long as there are men in the
world； for there are always some whom one can love。
But the power of love itself weakens and gradually becomes lost with
age； like all the other energies of man。 Example proves it； and it is this
which terrifies me。 Am I sure that I have not myself already suffered this
great loss？ I should surely have felt it； but for the happy meeting which
has rejuvenated me。 Poets speak of the Fountain of Youth； it does exist； it
gushes up from the earth at every step we take。 And one passes by without
drinking of it！
The young girl I loved； married of her own choice to a rival； passed；
all grey…haired； into the eternal rest。 I have found her daughter so that my
life； which before seemed to me without utility； now once more finds a
purpose and a reason for being。
To…day I 〃take the sun；〃 as they say in Provence； I take it on the terrace
of the Luxembourg； at the foot of the statue of Marguerite de Navarre。 It is
a spring sun； intoxicating as young wine。 I sit and dream。 My thoughts
escape from my head like the foam from a bottle of beer。 They are light；
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and their fizzing amuses me。 I dream； such a pastime is certainly
permissible to an old fellow who has published thirty volumes of texts；
and contributed to the 'Journal des Savants' for twenty…six years。 I have the
satisfaction of feeling that I performed my task as well as it was possible
for me to do； and that I utilised to their fullest extent those mediocre
faculties with which Nature endowed me。 My efforts were not all in vain；
and I have contributed； in my own modest way； to that renaissance of
historical labours which will remain the honour of this restless century。 I
shall certainly be counted among those ten or twelve who revealed to
France her own literary antiquities。 My publication of the poetical works
of Gautier de Coincy inaugurated a judicious system and fixed a date。 It is
in the austere calm of old age that I decree to mysel
