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The Lily of the Valley-Part38_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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religion alone can see; and since you have come perhaps you are led by

some celestial star of the moral world which leads to the tomb as to



the manger--"

He then told me, with that tempered eloquence which falls like dew



upon the heart, that for the last six months the countess had suffered

daily more and more, in spite of Monsieur Origet's care. The doctor



had come to Clochegourde every evening for two months, striving to

rescue her from death; for her one cry had been, "Oh, save me!" "To



heal the body the heart must first be healed," the doctor had

exclaimed one day.



"As the illness increased, the words of this poor woman, once so

gentle, have grown bitter," said the Abbe. "She calls on earth to keep



her, instead of asking God to take her; then she repents these murmurs

against the divinedecree. Such alternations of feeling rend her heart



and make the struggle between body and soul most horrible. Often the

body triumphs. 'You have cost me dear,' she said one day to Jacques



and Madeleine; but in a moment, recalled to God by the look on my

face, she turned to Madeleine with these angelic words, 'The happiness



of others is the joy of those who cannot themselves be happy,'--and

the tone with which she said them brought tears to my eyes. She falls,



it is true, but each time that her feet stumble she rises higher

towards heaven."



Struck by the tone of the successive intimations chance had sent me,

and which in this great concert of misfortunes were like a prelude of



mournful modulations to a funereal theme, the mighty cry of expiring

love, I cried out: "Surely you believe that this pure lily cut from



earth will flower in heaven?"

"You left her still a flower," he answered, "but you will find her



consumed, purified by the forces of suffering, pure as a diamond

buried in the ashes. Yes, that shining soul, angelic star, will issue



glorious from the clouds and pass into the kingdom of the Light."

As I pressed the hand of the good evangelist, my heart overflowing



with gratitude, the count put his head, now entirely white, out of the

door and immediately sprang towards me with signs of surprise.



"She was right! He is here! 'Felix, Felix, Felix has come!' she kept

crying. My dear friend," he continued, beside himself with terror,



"death is here. Why did it not take a poor madman like me with one

foot in the grave?"



I walked towards the house summoning my courage, but on the threshold

of the long antechamber which crossed the house and led to the lawn,



the Abbe Birotteau stopped me.

"Madame la comtesse begs you will not enter at present," he said to



me.

Giving a glance within the house I saw the servants coming and going,



all busy, all dumb with grief, surprised perhaps by the orders Manette

gave them.



"What has happened?" cried the count, alarmed by the commotion, as

much from fear of the coming event as from the natural uneasiness of



his character.

"Only a sick woman's fancy," said the abbe. "Madame la comtesse does



not wish to receive monsieur le vicomte as she now is. She talks of

dressing; why thwart her?"



Manette came in search of Madeleine, whom I saw leave the house a few

moments after she had entered her mother's room. We were all, Jacques



and his father, the two abbes and I, silently walking up and down the

lawn in front of the house. I looked first at Montbazon and then at



Azay, noticing the seared and yellow valley which answered in its

mourning (as it ever did on all occasions) to the feelings of my



heart. Suddenly I beheld the dear "mignonne" gathering the autumn

flowers, no doubt to make a bouquet at her mother's bidding. Thinking



of all which that signified, I was so convulsed within me that I

staggered, my sight was blurred, and the two abbes, between whom I



walked, led me to the wall of a terrace, where I sat for some time

completely broken down but not unconscious.



"Poor Felix," said the count, "she forbade me to write to you. She




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