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The Duchesse de Langeais-Part15_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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Armand de Montriveau stayed with her till two o'clock in the

morning. From that moment this woman, whom he loved, was neither



a duchess nor a Navarreins; Antoinette, in her disguises, had

gone so far as to appear to be a woman. On that most blissful



evening, the sweetest prelude ever played by a Parisienne to what

the world calls "a slip"; in spite of all her affectations of a



coyness which she did not feel, the General saw all maidenly

beauty in her. He had some excuse for believing that so many



storms of caprice had been but clouds covering a heavenly soul;

that these must be lifted one by one like the veils that hid her



divine loveliness. The Duchess became, for him, the most simple

and girlish mistress; she was the one woman in the world for him;



and he went away quite happy in that at last he had brought her

to give him such pledges of love, that it seemed to him



impossible but that he should be but her husband henceforth in

secret, her choice sanctioned by Heaven.



Armand went slowly home, turning this thought in his mind with

the impartiality of a man who is conscious of all the



responsibilities that love lays on him while he tastes the

sweetness of its joys. He went along the Quais to see the widest



possible space of sky; his heart had grown in him; he would fain

have had the bounds of the firmament and of earth enlarged. It



seemed to him that his lungs drew an ampler breath.

In the course of his self-examination, as he walked, he vowed to



love this woman so devoutly, that every day of her life she

should find absolution for her sins against society in unfailing



happiness. Sweet stirrings of life when life is at the full!

The man that is strong enough to steep his soul in the colour of



one emotion, feels infinite joy as glimpses open out for him of

an ardentlifetime that knows no diminution of passion to the



end; even so it is permitted to certain mystics, in ecstasy, to

behold the Light of God. Love would be naught without the belief



that it would last forever; love grows great through constancy.

It was thus that, wholly absorbed by his happiness, Montriveau



understood passion.

"We belong to each other forever!"



The thought was like a talisman fulfilling the wishes of his

life. He did not ask whether the Duchess might not change,



whether her love might not last. No, for he had faith. Without

that virtue there is no future for Christianity, and perhaps it



is even more necessary to society. A conception of life as

feeling occurred to him for the first time; hitherto he had lived



by action, the most strenuousexertion of human energies, the

physical devotion, as it may be called, of the soldier.



Next day M. de Montriveau went early in the direction of the

Faubourg Saint-Germain. He had made an appointment at a house



not far from the Hotel de Langeais; and the business over, he

went thither as if to his own home. The General's companion



chanced to be a man for whom he felt a kind of repulsion whenever

he met him in other houses. This was the Marquis de



Ronquerolles, whose reputation had grown so great in Paris

boudoirs. He was witty, clever, and what was more--courageous;



he set the fashion to all the young men in Paris. As a man of

gallantry, his success and experience were equally matters of



envy; and neither fortune nor birth was wanting in his case,

qualifications which add such lustre in Paris to a reputation as



a leader of fashion.

"Where are you going?" asked M. de Ronquerolles.



"To Mme de Langeais's."

"Ah, true. I forgot that you had allowed her to lime you. You



are wasting your affections on her when they might be much better

employed elsewhere. I could have told you of half a score of



women in the financial world, any one of them a thousand times

better worth your while than that titled courtesan, who does with



her brains what less artificial women do with----"

"What is this, my dear fellow?" Armand broke in. "The Duchess



is an angel of innocence."

Ronquerolles began to laugh.



"Things being thus, dear boy," said he, "it is my duty to

enlighten you. Just a word; there is no harm in it between






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