Notwithstanding his wife's attentions, he found no food to suit him,
his stomach being, he said, impaired, and digestion so painful as to

keep him awake all night. In spite of this he ate, drank, digested,
and slept, in a manner to satisfy any doctor. His capricious will

exhausted the patience of the servants, accustomed to the beaten track
of domestic service and unable to conform to the requirements of his

conflicting orders. Sometimes he bade them keep all the windows open,
declaring that his health required a current of fresh air; a few days

later the fresh air, being too hot or too damp, as the case might be,
became intolerable; then he scolded, quarrelled with the servants, and

in order to justify himself, denied his former orders. This defect of
memory, or this bad faith, call it which you will, always carried the

day against his wife in the arguments by which she tried to pit him
against himself. Life at Clochegourde had become so intolerable that

the Abbe Dominis, a man of great learning, took refuge in the study of
scientific problems, and withdrew into the shelter of pretended

abstraction. The countess had no longer any hope of hiding the secret
of these insane furies within the circle of her own home; the servants

had witnessed scenes of exasperation without exciting cause, in which
the premature old man passed the bounds of reason. They were, however,

so devoted to the countess that nothing so far had transpired outside;
but she dreaded daily some public outburst of a frenzy no longer

controlled by respect for opinion.
Later I learned the dreadful details of the count's treatment of his

wife. Instead of supporting her when the children were ill, he
assailed her with dark predictions and made her responsible for all

future illnesses, because she refused to let the children take the
crazy doses which he prescribed. When she went to walk with them the

count would predict a storm in the face of a clear sky; if by chance
the prediction proved true, the satisfaction he felt made him quite

indifferent to any harm to the children. If one of them was ailing,
the count gave his whole mind to fastening" target="_blank" title="n.(门等)扣绊，拴扣物">fastening the cause of the illness

upon the system of nursing adopted by his wife, whom he carped at for
every trifling detail, always ending with the cruel words, "If your

children fall ill again you have only yourself to thank for it."
He behaved in the same way in the management of the household, seeing

the worst side of everything, and making himself, as his old coachman
said, "the devil's own advocate." The countess arranged that Jacques

and Madeleine should take their meals alone at different hours from
the family, so as to save them from the count's outbursts and draw all

the storms upon herself. In this way the children now saw but little
of their father. By one of the hallucinations peculiar to selfish

persons, the count had not the slightest idea of the misery he caused.
In the confidentialcommunication he made to me on my arrival he

particularly dwelt on his goodness to his family. He wielded the
flail, beat, bruised, and broke everything about him as a monkey might

have done. Then, having half-destroyed his prey, he denied having
touched it. I now understood the lines on Henriette's forehead,--fine

lines, traced as it were with the edge of a razor, which I had noticed
the moment I saw her. There is a pudicity in noble minds which

withholds them from speaking of their personal sufferings; proudly
they hide the extent of their woes from hearts that love them, feeling

a merciful joy in doing so. Therefore in spite of my urgency, I did
not immediately obtain the truth from Henriette. She feared to grieve

me; she made brief admissions, and then blushed for them; but I soon
perceived myself the increase of trouble which the count's present

want of regular occupation had brought upon the household.
"Henriette," I said, after I had been there some days, "don't you

think you have made a mistake in so arranging the estate that the
count has no longer anything to do?"

"Dear," she said, smiling, "my situation is critical enough to take
all my attention; believe me, I have considered all my resources, and

they are now exhausted. It is true that the bickerings are getting
worse and worse. As Monsieur de Mortsauf and I are always together, I

cannot lessen them by diverting his attention in other directions; in
fact the pain would be the same to me in any case. I did think of

advising him to start a nursery for silk-worms at Clochegourde, where
we have many mulberry-trees, remains of the old industry of Touraine.

But I reflected that he would still be the same tyrant at home, and I
should have many more annoyances through the enterprise. You will

learn, my dear observer, that in youth a man's ill qualities are
restrained by society, checked in their swing by the play of passions,

subdued under the fear of public opinion; later, a middle-aged man,
living in solitude, shows his native defects, which are all the more

terrible because so long repressed. Human weaknesses are essentially
base; they allow of neither peace nor truce; what you yield to them

to-day they exact to-morrow, and always; they fasten on concessions
and compel more of them. Power, on the other hand, is merciful; it

conforms to evidence, it is just and it is peaceable. But the passions
born of weakness are implacable. Monsieur de Mortsauf takes an

absolute pleasure in getting the better of me; and he who would
deceive no one else, deceives me with delight."

One morning as we left the breakfast table, about a month after my
arrival, the countess took me by the arm, darted through an iron gate

which led into the vineyard, and dragged me hastily among the vines.
"He will kill me!" she cried. "And I want to live--for my children's

sake. But oh! not a day's respite! Always to walk among thorns! to
come near falling every instant! every instant to have to summon all

my strength to keep my balance! No human being can long endure such
strain upon the system. If I were certain of the ground I ought to

take, if my resistance" target="_blank" title="n.抵抗；抵制；耐力">resistance could be a settled thing, then my mind might
concentrate upon it--but no, every day the attacks change character

and leave me without defence; my sorrows are not one, they are
manifold. Ah! my friend--" she cried, leaning her head upon my

shoulder, and not continuing her confidence. "What will become of me?
Oh, what shall I do?" she said presently, struggling with thoughts she

did not express. "How can I resist? He will kill me! No, I will kill
myself--but that would be a crime! Escape? yes, but my children!

Separate from him? how, after fifteen years of marriage, how could I
ever tell my parents that I will not live with him? for if my father

and mother came here he would be calm, polite, intelligent, judicious.
Besides, can married women look to fathers or mothers? Do they not

belong body and soul to their husbands? I could live tranquil if not
happy--I have found strength in my chastesolitude, I admit it; but if

I am deprived of this negative happiness I too shall become insane. My
resistance" target="_blank" title="n.抵抗；抵制；耐力">resistance is based on powerful reasons which are not personal to

myself. It is a crime to give birth to poor creatures condemned to
endless suffering. Yet my position raises serious questions, so

serious that I dare not decide them alone; I cannot be judge and party
both. To-morrow I will go to Tours and consult my new confessor, the

Abbe Birotteau--for my dear and virtuous Abbe de la Berge is dead,"
she said, interrupting herself. "Though he was severe, I miss and

shall always miss his apostolic power. His successor is an angel of
goodness, who pities but does not reprimand. Still, all courage draws

fresh life from the heart of religion; what soul is not strengthened
by the voice of the Holy Spirit? My God," she said, drying her tears

and raising her eyes to heaven, "for what sin am I thus punished?--I
believe, yes, Felix, I believe it, we must pass through a fiery

furnace before we reach the saints, the just made perfect of the upper
spheres. Must I keep silence? Am I forbidden, oh, my God, to cry to

the heart of a friend? Do I love him too well?" She pressed me to her
heart as though she feared to lose me. "Who will solve my doubts? My

conscience does not reproach me. The stars shine from above on men;
may not the soul, the human star, shed its light upon a friend, if we

go to him with pure thoughts?"
I listened to this dreadful cry in silence, holding her moist hand in

mine that was still more moist. I pressed it with a force to which
Henriette replied with an equal pressure.

"Where are you?" cried the count, who came towards us, bareheaded.
Ever since my return he had insisted on sharing our interviews,--

either because he wanted amusement, or feared the countess would tell
me her sorrows and complain to me, or because he was jealous of a

pleasure he did not share.
"How he follows me!" she cried, in a tone of despair. "Let us go into

the orchard, we shall escape him. We can stoop as we run by the hedge,
and he will not see us."

We made the hedge a rampart and reached the enclosure, where we were
soon at a good distance from the count in an alley of almond-trees.

"Dear Henriette," I then said to her, pressing her arm against my
heart and stopping to contemplate her in her sorrow, "you have guided

me with true knowledge along the perilous ways of the great world; let