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The Lily of the Valley-Part5_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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Her little ears, perfect in shape, were, as she said herself, the ears



of a mother and a slave. In after days, when our hearts were one, she

would say to me, "Here comes Monsieur de Mortsauf"; and she was right,



though I, whose hearing is remarkably acute, could hear nothing.

Her arms were beautiful. The curved fingers of the hand were long, and



the flesh projected at the side beyond the finger-nails, like those of

antique statues. I should displease you, I know, if you were not



yourself an exception to my rule, when I say that flat waists should

have the preference over round ones. The round waist is a sign of



strength; but women thus formed are imperious, self-willed, and more

voluptuous than tender. On the other hand, women with flat waists are



devoted in soul, delicately perceptive, inclined to sadness, more

truly woman than the other class. The flat waist is supple and



yielding; the round waist is inflexible and jealous.

You now know how she was made. She had the foot of a well-bred woman,



--the foot that walks little, is quickly tired, and delights the eye

when it peeps beneath the dress. Though she was the mother of two



children, I have never met any woman so truly a young girl as she. Her

whole air was one of simplicity, joined to a certain bashful



dreaminess which attracted others, just as a painter arrests our steps

before a figure into which his genius has conveyed a world of



sentiment. If you recall the pure, wild fragrance of the heath we

gathered on our return from the Villa Diodati, the flower whose tints



of black and rose you praised so warmly, you can fancy how this woman

could be elegant though remote from the social world, natural in



expression, fastidious in all things which became part of herself,--in

short, like the heath of mingled colors. Her body had the freshness we



admire in the unfolding leaf; her spirit the clear conciseness of the

aboriginal mind; she was a child by feeling, grave through suffering,



the mistress of a household, yet a maiden too. Therefore she charmed

artlessly and unconsciously, by her way of sitting down or rising, of



throwing in a word or keeping silence. Though habitually collected,

watchful as the sentinel on whom the safety of others depends and who



looks for danger, there were moments when smiles would wreathe her

lips and betray the happy nature buried beneath the saddened bearing



that was the outcome of her life. Her gift of attraction was

mysterious. Instead of inspiring the gallant attentions which other



women seek, she made men dream, letting them see her virginal nature

of pure flame, her celestial visions, as we see the azure heavens



through rifts in the clouds. This involuntaryrevelation of her being

made others thoughtful. The rarity of her gestures, above all, the



rarity of her glances--for, excepting her children, she seldom looked

at any one--gave a strange solemnity to all she said and did when her



words or actions seemed to her to compromise her dignity.

On this particular morning Madame de Mortsauf wore a rose-colored gown



patterned in tiny stripes, a collar with a wide hem, a black belt, and

little boots of the same hue. Her hair was simply twisted round her



head, and held in place by a tortoise-shell comb. Such, my dear

Natalie, is the imperfectsketch I promised you. But the constant



emanation of her soul upon her family, that nurturing essence shed in

floods around her as the sun emits its light, her inward nature, her



cheerfulness on days serene, her resignation on stormy ones,--all

those variations of expression by which character is displayed depend,



like the effects in the sky, on unexpected and fugitive circumstances,

which have no connection with each other except the background against



which they rest, though all are necessarily mingled with the events of

this history,--truly a household epic, as great to the eyes of a wise



man as a tragedy to the eyes of the crowd, an epic in which you will

feel an interest, not only for the part I took in it, but for the






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