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The Lily of the Valley-Part36_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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avenue, looking back again and again at Madame de Mortsauf, as she

leaned against a tree surrounded by her children who waved their



handkerchiefs, I detected in my soul an emotion of pride in finding

myself the arbiter of two such destinies; the glory, in ways so



different, of women so distinguished; proud of inspiring such great

passions that death must come to whichever I abandoned. Ah! believe



me, that passing conceit has been doubly punished!

I know not what demon prompted me to remain with Arabella and await



the moment when the death of the count might give me Henriette; for

she would ever love me. Her harshness, her tears, her remorse, her



Christian resignation, were so many eloquent signs of a sentiment that

could no more be effaced from her heart than from mine. Walking slowly



down that pretty avenue and making these reflections, I was no longer

twenty-five, I was fifty years old. A man passes in a moment, even



more quickly than a woman, from youth to middle age. Though long ago I

drove these evil thoughts away from me, I was then possessed by them,



I must avow it. Perhaps I owed their presence in my mind to the

Tuileries, to the king's cabinet. Who could resist the polluting



spirit of Louis XVIII.?

When I reached the end of the avenue I turned and rushed back in the



twinkling of an eye, seeing that Henriette was still there, and alone!

I went to bid her a last farewell, bathed in repentant tears, the



cause of which she never knew. Tears sincere indeed; given, although I

knew it not, to noble loves forever lost, to virginemotions--those



flowers of our life which cannot bloom again. Later, a man gives

nothing, he receives; he loves himself in his mistress; but in youth



he loves his mistress in himself. Later, we inoculate with our tastes,

perhaps our vices, the woman who loves us; but in the dawn of life she



whom we love conveys to us her virtues, her conscience. She invites us

with a smile to the noble life; from her we learn the self-devotion



which she practises. Woe to the man who has not had his Henriette. Woe

to that other one who has never known a Lady Dudley. The latter, if he



marries, will not be able to keep his wife; the other will be

abandoned by his mistress. But joy to him who can find the two women



in one woman; happy the man, dear Natalie, whom you love.

After my return to Paris Arabella and I became more intimate than



ever. Soon we insensibly abandoned all the conventional restrictions I

had carefully imposed, the strictobservance of which often makes the



world forgive the false position in which Lady Dudley had placed

herself. Society, which delights in looking behind appearances,



sanctions much as soon as it knows the secrets they conceal. Lovers

who live in the great world make a mistake in flinging down these



barriers exacted by the law of salons; they do wrong not to obey

scrupulously all conventions which the manners and customs of a



community impose,--less for the sake of others than for their own.

Outward respect to be maintained, comedies to play, concealments to be



managed; all such strategy of love occupies the life, renews desire,

and protects the heart against the palsy of habit. But all young



passions, being, like youth itself, essentially spendthrift, raze

their forests to the ground instead of merely cutting the timber.



Arabella adopted none of these bourgeois ideas, and yielded to them

only to please me; she wished to exhibit me to the eyes of all Paris



as her "sposo." She employed her powers of seduction to keep me under

her roof, for she was not content with a rumored scandal which, for



want of proof, was only whispered behind the fans. Seeing her so happy

in committing an imprudence which frankly admitted her position, how



could I help believing in her love?

But no sooner was I plunged into the comforts of illegal marriage than



despair seized upon me; I saw my life bound to a course in direct

defiance of the ideas and the advice given me by Henriette.



Thenceforth I lived in the sort of rage we find in consumptive

patients who, knowing their end is near, cannot endure that their



lungs should be examined. There was no corner in my heart where I

could fly to escape suffering; an avenging spirit filled me



incessantly with thoughts on which I dared not dwell. My letters to




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