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The Lily of the Valley-Part19_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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flesh, she shed the rays, undeviating, incorruptible, of the divine

love, which satisfies the soul only. She rose to heights whither the



prismatic pinions of a love like mine were powerless to bear me. To

reach her a man must needs have won the white wings of the seraphim.



"In all that happens to me I will ask myself," I said, "'What would my

Henriette say?'"



"Yes, I will be the star and the sanctuary both," she said, alluding

to the dreams of my childhood.



"You are my light and my religion," I cried; "you shall be my all."

"No," she answered; "I can never be the source of your pleasures."



She sighed; the smile of secret pain was on her lips, the smile of the

slave who momentarily revolts. From that day forth she was to me, not



merely my beloved, but my only love; she was not IN my heart as a

woman who takes a place, who makes it hers by devotion or by excess of



pleasure given; but she was my heart itself,--it was all hers, a

something necessary to the play of my muscles. She became to me as



Beatrice to the Florentine, as the spotless Laura to the Venetian, the

mother of great thoughts, the secret cause of resolutions which saved



me, the support of my future, the light shining in the darkness like a

lily in a wood. Yes, she inspired those high resolves which pass



through flames, which save the thing in peril; she gave me a constancy

like Coligny's to vanquish conquerors, to rise above defeat, to weary



the strongest wrestler.

The next day, having breakfasted at Frapesle and bade adieu to my kind



hosts, I went to Clochegourde. Monsieur and Madame de Mortsauf had

arranged to drive with me to Tours, whence I was to start the same



night for Paris. During the drive the countess was silent; she

pretended at first to have a headache; then she blushed at the



falsehood, and expiated it by saying that she could not see me go

without regret. The count invited me to stay with them whenever, in



the absence of the Chessels, I might long to see the valley of the

Indre once more. We parted heroically, without apparent tears, but



Jacques, who like other delicate children was quickly touched, began

to cry, while Madeleine, already a woman, pressed her mother's hand.



"Dear little one!" said the countess, kissing Jacques passionately.

When I was alone at Tours after dinner a wild, inexplicable desire



known only to young blood possessed me. I hired a horse and rode from

Tours to Pont-de-Ruan in an hour and a quarter. There, ashamed of my



folly, I dismounted, and went on foot along the road, stepping

cautiously like a spy till I reached the terrace. The countess was not



there, and I imagined her ill; I had kept the key of the little gate,

by which I now entered; she was coming down the steps of the portico



with the two children to breathe in sadly and slowly the tender

melancholy of the landscape, bathed at that moment in the setting sun.



"Mother, here is Felix," said Madeleine.

"Yes," I whispered; "it is I. I asked myself why I should stay at



Tours while I still could see you; why not indulge a desire that in a

few days more I could not gratify."



"He won't leave us again, mother," cried Jacques, jumping round me.

"Hush!" said Madeleine; "if you make such a noise the general will



come."

"It is not right," she said. "What folly!"



The tears in her voice were the payment of what must be called a

usurious speculation of love.



"I had forgotten to return this key," I said smiling.

"Then you will never return," she said.



"Can we ever be really parted?" I asked, with a look which made her

drop her eyelids for all answer.



I left her after a few moments passed in that happy stupor of the

spirit where exaltation ends and ecstasy begins. I went with lagging



step, looking back at every minute. When, from the summit of the hill,

I saw the valley for the last time I was struck with the contrast it



presented to what it was when I first came there. Then it was verdant,

then it glowed, glowed and blossomed like my hopes and my desires.



Initiated now into the gloomy secrets of a family, sharing the anguish

of a Christian Niobe, sad with her sadness, my soul darkened, I saw






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