seraphita-第7部分
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things into sentimentbefore the exquisite well…known lines of
Polyhymnia's veil。 Then she stretched forth her hand。 Wilfrid rose。
When he looked at Seraphita she was lying on the bear's…skin; her head
resting on her hand; her face calm; her eyes brilliant。 Wilfrid gazed
at her silently; but his face betrayed a deferential fear in its
almost timid expression。
〃Yes; dear;〃 he said at last; as though he were answering some
question; 〃we are separated by worlds。 I resign myself; I can only
adore you。 But what will become of me; poor and alone!〃
〃Wilfrid; you have Minna。〃
He shook his head。
〃Do not be so disdainful; woman understands all things through love;
what she does not understand she feels; what she does not feel she
sees; when she neither sees; nor feels; nor understands; this angel of
earth divines to protect you; and hides her protection beneath the
grace of love。〃
〃Seraphita; am I worthy to belong to a woman?〃
〃Ah; now;〃 she said; smiling; 〃you are suddenly very modest; is it a
snare? A woman is always so touched to see her weakness glorified。
Well; come and take tea with me the day after to…morrow evening; good
Monsieur Becker will be here; and Minna; the purest and most artless
creature I have known on earth。 Leave me now; my friend; I need to
make long prayers and expiate my sins。〃
〃You; can you commit sin?〃
〃Poor friend! if we abuse our power; is not that the sin of pride? I
have been very proud to…day。 Now leave me; till to…morrow。〃
〃Till to…morrow;〃 said Wilfrid faintly; casting a long glance at the
being of whom he desired to carry with him an ineffaceable memory。
Though he wished to go far away; he was held; as it were; outside the
house for some moments; watching the light which shone from all the
windows of the Swedish dwelling。
〃What is the matter with me?〃 he asked himself。 〃No; she is not a mere
creature; but a whole creation。 Of her world; even through veils and
clouds; I have caught echoes like the memory of sufferings healed;
like the dazzling vertigo of dreams in which we hear the plaints of
generations mingling with the harmonies of some higher sphere where
all is Light and all is Love。 Am I awake? Do I still sleep? Are these
the eyes before which the luminous space retreated further and further
indefinitely while the eyes followed it? The night is cold; yet my
head is on fire。 I will go to the parsonage。 With the pastor and his
daughter I shall recover the balance of my mind。〃
But still he did not leave the spot whence his eyes could plunge into
Seraphita's salon。 The mysterious creature seemed to him the radiating
centre of a luminous circle which formed an atmosphere about her wider
than that of other beings; whoever entered it felt the compelling
influence of; as it were; a vortex of dazzling light and all consuming
thoughts。 Forced to struggle against this inexplicable power; Wilfrid
only prevailed after strong efforts; but when he reached and passed
the inclosing wall of the courtyard; he regained his freedom of will;
walked rapidly towards the parsonage; and was soon beneath the high
wooden arch which formed a sort of peristyle to Monsieur Becker's
dwelling。 He opened the first door; against which the wind had driven
the snow; and knocked on the inner one; saying:
〃Will you let me spend the evening with you; Monsieur Becker?〃
〃Yes;〃 cried two voices; mingling their intonations。
Entering the parlor; Wilfrid returned by degrees to real life。 He
bowed affectionately to Minna; shook hands with Monsieur Becker; and
looked about at the picture of a home which calmed the convulsions of
his physical nature; in which a phenomenon was taking place analogous
to that which sometimes seizes upon men who have given themselves up
to protracted contemplations。 If some strong thought bears upward on
phantasmal wing a man of learning or a poet; isolates him from the
external circumstances which environ him here below; and leads him
forward through illimitable regions where vast arrays of facts become
abstractions; where the greatest works of Nature are but images; then
woe betide him if a sudden noise strikes sharply on his senses and
calls his errant soul back to its prison…house of flesh and bones。 The
shock of the reunion of these two powers; body and mind;one of which
partakes of the unseen qualities of a thunderbolt; while the other
shares with sentient nature that soft resistant force which deifies
destruction;this shock; this struggle; or; rather let us say; this
painful meeting and co…mingling; gives rise to frightful sufferings。
The body receives back the flame that consumes it; the flame has once
more grasped its prey。 This fusion; however; does not take place
without convulsions; explosions; tortures; analogous and visible signs
of which may be seen in chemistry; when two antagonistic substances
which science has united separate。
For the last few days whenever Wilfrid entered Seraphita's presence
his body seemed to fall away from him into nothingness。 With a single
glance this strange being led him in spirit through the spheres where
meditation leads the learned man; prayer the pious heart; where vision
transports the artist; and sleep the souls of men;each and all have
their own path to the Height; their own guide to reach it; their own
individual sufferings in the dire return。 In that sphere alone all
veils are rent away; and the revelation; the awful flaming certainty
of an unknown world; of which the soul brings back mere fragments to
this lower sphere; stands revealed。 To Wilfrid one hour passed with
Seraphita was like the sought…for dreams of Theriakis; in which each
knot of nerves becomes the centre of a radiating delight。 But he left
her bruised and wearied as some young girl endeavoring to keep step
with a giant。
The cold air; with its stinging flagellations; had begun to still the
nervous tremors which followed the reunion of his two natures; so
powerfully disunited for a time; he was drawn towards the parsonage;
then towards Minna; by the sight of the every…day home life for which
he thirsted as the wandering European thirsts for his native land when
nostalgia seizes him amid the fairy scenes of Orient that have seduced
his senses。 More weary than he had ever yet been; Wilfrid dropped into
a chair and looked about him for a time; like a man who awakens from
sleep。 Monsieur Becker and his daughter accustomed; perhaps; to the
apparent eccentricity of their guest; continued the employments in
which they were engaged。
The parlor was ornamented with a collection of the shells and insects
of Norway。 These curiosities; admirably arranged on a background of
the yellow pine which panelled the room; formed; as it were; a rich
tapestry to which the fumes of tobacco had imparted a mellow tone。 At
the further end of the room; opposite to the door; was an immense
wrought…iron stove; carefully polished by the serving…woman till it
shone like burnished steel。 Seated in a large tapestried armchair near
the stove; before a table; with his feet in a species of muff;
Monsieur Becker was reading a folio volume which was propped against a
pile of other books as on a desk。 At his left stood a jug of beer and
a glass; at his right burned a smoky lamp fed by some species of fish…
oil。 The pastor seemed about sixty years of age。 His face belonged to
a type often painted by Rembrandt; the same small bright eyes; set in
wrinkles and surmounted by thick gray eyebrows; the same white hair
escaping in snowy flakes from a black velvet cap; the same broad; bald
brow; and a contour of face which the ample chin made almost square;
and lastly; the same calm tranquillity; which; to an observer; denoted
the possession of some inward power; be it the supremacy bestowed by
money; or the magisterial influence of the burgomaster; or the
consciousness of art; or the cubic force of blissful ignorance。 This
fine old man; whose stout body proclaimed his vigorous health; was
wrapped in a dressing…gown of rough gray cloth plainly bound。 Between
his lips was a meerschaum pipe; from which; at regular intervals; he
blew the smoke; following with abstracted vision its fantastic
wreathings;his mind employed; no doubt; in assimilating through some
meditative process the thoughts of the author whose works he was
studying。
On the other side of the stove and near a door which communicated with
the kitchen Minna was indistinctly visible in the haze of the good
man's smoke; to which she was apparently accustomed。 Beside her on a
little table were the implements of household work; a pile of napkins;
and another of socks waiting to be mended; also a lamp like that which
shone on the white page of the book in which the pastor was absorbed。
Her fresh young face; with its delicate outline; expressed an infinite
purity which harmonized with the candor of the white brow and the
clear blue eyes。 She sat erect; turning slightly toward the lamp for
better light; unconsciously showing as she did so the beauty of her
waist and bust。 She was already dressed for the night in a long robe
of white cotton; a cambric cap; without other ornament than a frill of
the same; confined her hair。 Though evidently plunged in some inward
meditation; she counted without a mistake the threads of her napkins
or the meshes of her socks。 Sitting thus; she presented the most
complete image; the truest type; of the woman destined for terrestrial
labor; whose glance may piece the clouds of the sanctuary while her
thought; humble and charitable; keeps her ever on the level of man。
Wilfrid had flung himself into a chair between the two tables and was
contemplating with a species of intoxication this picture full of
harmony; to which the clouds of smoke did no despite。 The single
window which lighted the parlor during the fine weather was now
carefully closed。 An old tapestry; us