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The story is set in Paris during the mid 1800's.

The lead heroine is Marguerite Gautier, a young beautiful courtesan who is a "kept woman" by counts and dukes -- men of "Fashionable Society". She meets a young middle class lover Armand Duval who does the unpardonable thing of falling jealously in love with her and breaking all convention of what's expected between a courtesan and her admirers. He, of course, has no way of sustaining the standard of living which she is accustomed to.

In her fragile physical state (Marguerite has tuberculosis which ) she moves to the country. There in her new house, a confrontation between the jealous Armand and her rich admirers and "benefactors" takes place. For the first time she sticks up for her lover -- making a life choice -- and they are left indignantly and alone.

Armand becomes depressed, his career seems doomed by the intolerance of French society, and knowing he will never be able to support Marguerite to the level she deserves. Unbeknownst to Armand, his father comes to plead for her to leave Armand to save both his son's reputation
and that of his younger innocent sister -- whom is also tainted by the scandal. To prove her love, she agrees and leaves Armand. She returns to Paris where she despairingly throws herself back into her old lifestyle. Armand can't believe she's left and searches for her -- finally finding her in Paris in the arms of a new lover.

Time passes.

The two accidentally meet again in public. Marguerite is now in the company of a another beautiful courtesan and Armand begins "paying court" not with her but with her friend trying to strike back at Marguerite out of his own sense of hurt. Deathly ill, Marguerite visits Armand one last time to plead that he stop humiliating her, and they make love again -- both unable to deny the passion for each other. But Marguerite is haunted by guilt that she can only harm Armand and remembering her promise to his father -- she abandons him yet again as he sleeps.

Armand is incensed when he wakes. Finding Marguerite at a grand ball with all society around, he approaches her and hands her an envelope stuffed full of money –"Here! Payment for your services.” She collapses as he walks out.

Abandoned by all her friends from the humiliation of Armand act, exposed  publicly for what she really is, she dies penniless, painfully and alone -- cast off by all the men that used her.
  

　　《茶花女》是法国亚历山大·小仲马 (Alexandre Dumasfils 1824年7月27日-1895年11月27日）的代表作，他为了与同为作家的父亲作区别，多称小仲马（Dumas, fils）。他本身是法国剧作家、小说家。《茶花女》是小仲马的代表作。
   《茶花女》就是根据他亲身经历所写的一部力作。是发生在小仲马身边的一个故事。在19世纪40年代，一个叫阿尔丰西娜·普莱西的贫苦乡下姑娘来到巴黎，走进了名利场，成了上流社会的一个社交明星，开始了卖笑生涯；并改名为玛丽·杜普莱西。她爱好文学，音乐，谈吐不俗。一次在剧院门口咳血时被小仲马看见，小仲马甚是心痛。玛丽也非常感动，于是两人开始了一段交往。后来小仲马和玛丽的感情出现了问题。一次小仲马回到巴黎时听说了玛丽的离去，异常后悔，愧疚，于是写出了这部文学史上的经典。在一些版本里，您会看到这本书的第一页就是小仲马为玛丽·杜普莱西写的一首诗，名叫《献给玛丽·杜普莱西》。此外，由于小仲马的母亲并不是大仲马的妻子，大仲马曾不肯相认。小仲马也借此为当时所有母亲这样的女人说话。
    值得一提的是，《茶花女》是第一本流传到我国的外国小说，由著名的翻译家林琴南先生用文言译就。现在也有很多翻译家译出的不错的译本，其中以王振孙的译本（人民文学出版社与上海译文出版社都出版这个版本）、郑克鲁的译本（译林出版社出版）流传较广。


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Chapter 27 'HAVE you finished it?' Armand asked me when I reached the end of the manuscript. 'I understand what you must have been through, my friend, if all that I've read is true!' 'My father vouches for it in a letter he wrote me.' We talked for some while longer of the unhappy destiny which had just been played out, then I went home to get a little rest. Armand, unhappy still, but a little easier now that his story was told, recovered quickly, and together we went to call on Prudence and Julie Duprat. Prudence had just been declared bankrupt. She said that it was Marguerite's fault: during her final illness, she had loaned Marguerite considerable sums of money for which she, Prudence, had signed promissory notes. She had not been able to repay these notes because Marguerite had died without reimbursing her, nor had she signed any receipts which would have allowed Prudence to join the other creditors. With the help of this unlikely tale, which Madame Duvernoy put about generally as an excuse for the mishandling of her own affairs, she succeeded in getting a thousand francs out of Armand who did not believe a word of it but wanted to appear as though he did, such was his respect for anyone and anything that had once been close to his mistress. Next, we called on Julie Duprat, who went over the unhappy course of events which she had witnessed and wept sincerely as she remembered her dead friend. Finally, we went to see Margrerite's grave over which the early rays of the April sun were uncurling the first leaves. There remained one final call of duty for Armand to answer, which was to rejoin his father. Once more, he asked me to accompany him. We arrived at C where I met Monsieur Duval, who looked exactly as I had pictured him from the description his son had given me: a tall, dignified, kindly man. He welcomed Armand with tears of happiness, and shook my hand affectionately. I quickly realized that among the Collector's sentiments, fatherly feeling was by far the strongest. His daughter, whose name was Blanche, had the cleareyed gaze and serene mouth which point to a soul that conceives only saintly thoughts and lips that speak only pious words. She greeted her brother's return with smiles, unaware, chaste young woman that she was, that in a far country a courtesan had sacrificed her own happiness to the mere mention of her name. I stayed for some time with this happy family which directed every waking thought to the son who had brought them a convalescent heart. I returned to Paris where I wrote this story exactly as it had been told to me. It has just one quality to commend it, which may be contested: it is true. From this tale, I do not draw the conclusion that all women of Marguerite's sort are capable of behaving as she did. Far from it. But I have learned that one such woman, once in her life, experienced deep love, that she suffered for it and that she died of it. I have told the reader what I learned. It was a duty. I am not an advocate of vice, but I shall always be a sounding board for any noble heart in adversity wherever I hear its voice raised in prayer. Marguerite's history is an exception, I say again. Had it been a commonplace, it would not have been worth writing down. 第二十七章 “您看完了吗？”当我看完这些手稿以后阿尔芒问我。 “如果我所读到的全是真的话，我的朋友，我明白您经受的是些什么样的痛苦！” “我父亲的一封来信也向我证实了这一切。” 我们又谈论了一会儿这个刚刚结束的悲惨命运，然后我回到家里休息了一会儿。 阿尔芒一直很伤心，但是在讲了这个故事以后，他心情稍许轻松了一些，并很快恢复了健康，我们一起去拜访了普律当丝和朱利?迪普拉。 普律当丝刚刚破了产，她对我们说是玛格丽特害得她破产的，说玛格丽特在生病期间向她借了很多钱，因此她开出了很多她无力偿付的期票，玛格丽特没有还她钱就死了，又没有给她收据，因此她也算不上是债权人。 迪韦尔诺瓦太太到处散布这个无稽之谈，作为她经济困难的原因，她向阿尔芒要了一张一千法郎的钞票，阿尔芒不相信她说的是真话，但是他宁愿装作信以为真的样子，他对一切和他情妇有过关系的人和事都怀有敬意。 随后我们到了朱利?迪普拉家里，她向我们讲述了她亲眼目睹的惨事，在想起她朋友的时候流下了真诚的眼泪。 最后我们到玛格丽特的坟地上去，四月里太阳的初辉已经催开了绿叶的嫩芽。 阿尔芒还有最后一件必须要办的事情，就是到他父亲那儿去。他还希望我能陪他去。 我们一起抵达了C城，在那里我见到了迪瓦尔先生，他就像他儿子对我描述的一样：身材高大，神态威严，性情和蔼。 他含着幸福的眼泪欢迎阿尔芒，亲切地和我握手。我很快就发现了在这个税务官身上，父爱高于一切。 他女儿名叫布朗什，她眼睛明亮，目光明澈，安详的嘴唇表明她灵魂里全是圣洁的思想，嘴里讲的全是虔诚的话语。看见她哥哥回来她满脸微笑，这个纯洁的少女一点也不知道，仅仅为了维护她的姓氏，一个在远处的妓女就牺牲了自己的幸福。 我在这个幸福的家庭里住了几天，全家都为这个给他们带来一颗治愈了的心的人忙碌着。 我回到巴黎，依照我听到的那样写下了这篇故事。这篇故事唯一可取之处就是它的真实性，不过也许会引起争论。 我并没有从这个故事中得出这样的结论：所有像玛格丽特那样的姑娘都能像她一样地为人；远非如此，但是我知道她们之中有一位姑娘，在她的一生中曾产生过一种严肃的爱情，她为了这个爱情遭受痛苦，直至死去。我把我听到的事讲给读者听，这是一种责任。 我并不是在宣扬淫乱邪恶，但是不论在什么地方听到有这种高贵的受苦人在祈求，我都要为他作宣传。 我再重复一遍，玛格丽特的故事是罕见的，但是如果它带有普遍性的话，似乎也就不必把它写出来了。

Chapter 26 WHAT ensued after that fatal night, you know as well as I do. But what you do not know, what you cannot suspect, is what I went through after the moment we parted. I had heard that your father had taken you away, but felt sure that you would not be able to go on keeping your distance for long, and the day I ran into you on the Champs-Elysees, I was stunned but not really surprised. And so began the sequence of days, each with some new insult from you which I suffered almost gladly. For not only was each indignity proof that you still loved me: I also felt that the more you persecuted me, the nobler I should appear in your eyes on the day you finally learned the truth. Do not be surprised that I should have borne my cross gladly, Armand, for the love you felt for me had aroused noble inclinations in my heart. But I did not have such strength of purpose at the outset. Between the consummation of the sacrifice I had made for you and your return, a fairly long time went by when I needed to fall back on physical means as a way of preserving my sanity and of drowning my unhappiness in the life to which I had reverted. I believe Prudence told you how I never missed a party or a ball or an orgy. My hope was that I should kill myself quickly with my excesses, and I think that this hope will not now be long in being realized. Of necessity, my health deteriorated steadily, and the day I sent Madame Duvernoy to beg for your mercy, I was close to collapse in both body and soul. I will not remind you, Armand, of the way you repaid me the last time I proved my love to you, nor of the indignity by which you made Paris unbearable for a woman who, near to dying, could not resist your voice when you asked her for one night of love, and who, taking leave of her senses, believed for an instant that she could build a bridge between what had been and what was now. It was your privilege, Armand, to act as you did: the rate for one of my nights was not always so high! So I left it all behind me! Olympe replaced me as Monsieur N's mistress and took it on herself, so I hear, to explain my reasons for leaving him. Count de G was in London. He is one of those men who attach just enough importance to running after girls of my sort for it to be a pleasant diversion, and thus remain on friendly terms with the women they have had: they never hate them, because they have never been jealous. He is one of those noble Lords who show us one side of their feelings but both ends of their wallets. My first thought was of him. I travelled over to join him. He gave me a marvellous welcome, but he was the lover of a society lady there, and was afraid of compromising himself by being seen with me. He introduced me to his friends, who organized a supper party for me, after which one of them took me home with him. What did you expect me to do, my dear? Kill myself? To do so would have meant burdening your life, which must be a happy one, with pointless self-recriminations. And in any case, what is the sense of killing yourself when you are already so close to dying? I turned into a body without a soul, a thing without thought. I continued in this mechanical way for some time, then came back to Paris and made enquiries about you. It was at this point that I learned that you had gone away on a long journey. There was nothing now to save me. My life once more became what it used to be two years before I met you. I tried to get back on terms with the Duke, but I had wounded him too deeply, and old men are short on patience, no doubt because they are aware that they are not going to live forever. My illness grew on me day by day. I had no colour, I felt desolate, I became thinner all the time. Men who buy love always inspect the goods before taking delivery of them. In Paris, there were many women whose health was better, and who had better figures than mine. I began to be overlooked. So much for the past, up to yesterday. I am now very ill. I have written to the Duke asking for money, for I have none, and my creditors have returned brandishing their accounts with merciless persistence. Will the Duke give me an answer? Armand, why are you not here in Paris? You would come to see me and your visits would be a comfort. 20 December The weather is dreadful: it's snowing and I am here alone. For the last three days, a fever has laid me so low that I have been unable to write to you. Nothing has changed, my dear. Each day I have vague hopes of a letter from you, but it does not come and probably never will. Only men are strong enough to be unforgiving. The Duke has not replied. Prudence has started up her visits to the pawn-shops again. I cough blood all the time. Oh! how you would grieve if you could see me now! You are so lucky to be where the sun is warm and not to have to face, as I do, an icy winter which lies heavy on your chest. Today, I got up for a while and, from behind the curtains at my window, I watched the bustle of life in Paris which I do believe I have put behind me once and for all. A few faces I knew appeared in the street: they passed quickly, cheerfully, without a care. Not one looked up at my window. However, a few young men have called and left their names. I was ill once before and you, who did not know me and had got nothing from me except a pert answer the day I first set eyes on you, you came to ask for news of me every morning. And now I am ill again. We spent six months together. I felt as much love for you as a woman's heart can contain and give, and now you are far away, you curse me and there is no word of comfort from you. But it was chance alone that made you desert me, I am sure, for if you were here in Paris, you would not leave my bedside nor my room. 25 December My doctor has forbidden me to write every day. He is right, for remembering only makes the fever worse. But yesterday I received a letter which did me good ?more for the sentiments behind it than for any material help it brought me. So I am able to write to you today. The letter was from your father and this is what it said: "Madame, I have this moment learned that you are ill. If I were in Paris, I should call myself to ask after you, and if my son were here with me, I should send him to find out how you are. But I cannot leave C, and Armand is six or seven hundred leagues away. Allow me therefore simply to say, Madame, how grieved I am by your illness, and please believe that I hope most sincerely for your prompt recovery. One of my closest friends, Monsieur H, will call on you. He has been entrusted by me with an errand the result of which I await with impatience. Please receive him, and oblige Your humble servant? This is the letter I have received. Your father is a man of noble heart: love him well, my dear, for there are few men in the world who deserve as much to be loved. This note, signed by him in full, has done me more good than all the prescriptions dispensed by my learned doctor. Monsieur H came this morning. He seemed terribly embarrassed by the delicate mission which Monsieur Duval had entrusted to him. He simply came to hand over a thousand ecus from your father. At first, I would not take the money, but Monsieur H said that by refusing I should offend Monsieur Duval, who had authorized him to give me this sum in the first instance and to supplement it with anything further I might need. I accepted his good offices which, coming from your father, cannot be regarded as charity. If I am dead when you return, show your father what I have just written about him, and tell him that as she penned these lines, the poor creature to whom he was kind enough to write this comforting letter, wept tears of gratitude and said a prayer for him.   4 January I have just come through a succession of racking days. I never knew how much pain our bodies can give us. Oh! my past life! I am now paying for it twice over! I have had someone sitting with me each night. I could not breathe. A wandering mind and bouts of coughing share what remains of my sorry existence. My dining-room is crammed full of sweets and presents of all kinds which friends have brought me. Among these people, there are no doubt some who hope that I shall be their mistress later on. If they could only see what illness has reduced me to, they would run away in horror. Prudence is using the presents I have been getting as New Year gifts to tradesmen. It has turned frosty, and the doctor has said that I can go out in a few days if the fine weather continues. 8 January Yesterday, I went out for a drive in my carriage. The weather was splendid. There were crowds of people out on the Champs-Elysees. It seemed like the first smile of spring. Everywhere around me there was a carnival atmosphere. I had never before suspected that the sun's rays could contain all the joy, sweetness and consolation that I found in them yesterday. I ran into almost all the people I know. They were as high-spirited as ever, and just as busily going about their pleasures. So many happy people, and so unaware that they are happy! Olympe drove by in an elegant carriage which Monsieur de N has given her. She tried to cut me with a look. She has no idea how far removed I have grown from such futilities. A nice boy I have known for ages asked me if I would have supper with him and a friend of his who, he said, wanted to meet me. I gave him a sad smile and held out my hand, which was burning with fever. I have never seen such surprise on a human face. I got back at four o'clock and sat down to dinner with fairly good appetite. The drive out has done me good. What if I were to get well again! How strongly the sight of the lives and happiness of others renews the will to live of those who, only the day before, alone with their souls in the darkness of the sickroom, wanted nothing better than to die soon! 10 January My hopes of recovery were an illusion. Here I am once more confined to my bed, my body swathed in burning poultices. Go out now and try hawking this body of yours which used to fetch such a pretty price, and see what you would get for it today! We must have committed very wiched deeds before we were born, or else we are to enjoy very great felicity after we are dead, for God to allow us to know in this life all the agony of atonement and all the pain of our time of trial. 12 January I am still ill. Count de N sent me money yesterday, but I did not take it. I want nothing from that man. He is the reason why you are not with me now. Oh! happy days at Bougival! where are you now? If I get out of this bedroom alive, it will be to go on a pilgrimage to the house where we lived together. But the next time I leave here, I shall be dead. Who knows if I shall write to you tomorrow? 25 January For eleven nights now, I have not slept, I have not been able to breathe, and I have thought that I was about to die at any moment. The doctor has left instructions that I was not to be permitted to touch a pen. Still, Julie Duprat who sits up with me, has allowed me to write you these few lines. Will you not return, then, before I die? Is everything between us finished forever? I have a feeling that if you did come back, I should get better. But what would be the point of getting better? 28 January This morning, I was awakened by a loud commotion. Julie, who was sleeping in my room, rushed into the dining room. I heard men's voices, and hers battling vainly against them. She came back in tears. They had come to repossess their goods. I told her to let what they call justice be done. The bailiff came into my room, and he kept his hat on his head the whole time. He opened the drawers, made a note of everything he saw, and did not appear to notice that there was a woman dying in the bed which the charity of the law fortunately lets me keep. As he was going he at least agreed to inform me that I had nine days in which to appeal, but he has left a watchman here! God, what is to become of me? This scene has made me more ill than ever. Prudence wanted to ask your father's friend for money, but I said no. I received your letter this morning. Oh, how I needed it to come! Will my reply reach you in time? Will you ever see me again? This is a happy day which has helped me forget the days which I have spent these last six weeks. It seems to me that I am a little better, in spite of the miserable feeling which was my mood when I wrote you my reply. After all, we cannot be unhappy all the time. And then I fall to thinking that perhaps I won't die, that you will come back, that I shall see the spring once more, that you love me still, and that we shall begin the life we had last year all over again? But this is madness! It is as much as I can do to hold the pen which writes to you of these wild longings of my heart. Whatever the outcome, I loved you very much, Armand, and I should have already been dead a long time if I had not had the memory of my love to sustain me, and a kind of vague hope of seeing you by my side once more. 4 February Count de G is back. His mistress has been unfaithful to him. His spirits are very low, for he loved her very much. He came and told me the whole story. The poor man's affairs are in a bad way, though this did not prevent him from paying off my bailiff and dismissing the watchman. I talked to him about you, and he has promised to talk to you about me. It's strange but, as I spoke, I completely forgot that I used to be his mistress once and, no less strangely, he tried to make me forget too! He is a decent sort. Yesterday, the Duke sent round to enquire after me, and he came himself this morning. I cannot think what can keep the old man going. He sat with me for three hours, and did not say much above a score of words. Two great tears came to his eyes when he saw how pale I was. No doubt the memory of his daughter's death made him cry so. He will have seen her die twice. His back is bent, his head is thrust forward and downward, his mouth is slack and his eyes are dull. The double weight of age and grief bears down upon his tired body. He did not say one word of reproach. It was as though he found some secret satisfaction in observing what ravages disease has produced in me. He seemed proud to be still standing, whereas I, who am still young, have been laid low by my sufferings. The bad weather has returned. No one comes to see me now. Julie sits up with me as often as she can. I cannot give Prudence as much money as I used to, and she has begun saying that she has business to attend to as an excuse for staying away. Now that I am near to death ?in spite of what the doctors say, for I have several, which only shows how the disease is gaining on me ?I am almost sorry I listened to your father. If I had known that I would have taken just one year out of your future, I would not have resisted my longing to spend that year with you, and then, at least, I should have died holding the hand of a friend. Yet it is clear that had we spent that year together, I should not have died so soon. Let Thy will be done! 5 February Oh, come to me, Armand, for I suffer torments! God, I am about to die! Yesterday, I was so low that I felt I wanted to be somewhere other than here for the evening, which promised to be as long as the one before, The Duke had been in the morning. I have a feeling that the sight of this old man, whom death has overlooked, brings my own death that much nearer. Although I was burning with fever, I was dressed and taken to the Vaudeville. Julie had rouged my cheeks, for otherwise I should have looked like a corpse. I took my place in the box where I gave you our first rendezvous. I kept my eyes fixed the whole time on the seat in the stalls where you sat that day: yesterday, it was occupied by some boorish man who laughed loudly at all the stupid things the actors said. I was brought home half dead and spat blood all night. Today I cannot speak and can hardly move my arms. God! God! I am going to die! I was expecting it, but I cannot reconcile myself to the thought that my greatest sufferings are still to come, and if? After this word, the few letters which Marguerite had tried to form were illegible, and the story had been taken up by Julie Duprat. 18 February Monsieur Armand, Since the day Marguerite insisted on going to the theatre, she has grown steadily worse. Her voice went completely, and then she lost the use of her limbs. What our poor friend has to bear is impossible to describe. I am not used to coping with such suffering, and I go in constant fear. Oh, how I wish you were here with us! She is delirious for most of the time, but whether her mind is wandering or lucid, your name is the one which she says when she manages to say anything at all. The doctor has told me that she does not have much longer to live. Since she has been so desperately ill, the old Duke has not been back. He told the doctor that seeing her like this was too much for him. Madame Duvernoy has not behaved very well. She thought she would still be able to go on getting money out of Marguerite, at whose expense she has been living on a more or less permanent basis, and she took on obligations which she cannot meet. Seeing that her neighbour is no further use to her, she does not even come to see her any more. Everyone has deserted her. Monsieur de G, harried by his debts, has been forced to return to London. Before going, he sent us money. He has done all he could, but the men have been back with repossession orders, and the creditors are only waiting for her to die before selling her up. I wanted to use the last of my own money to stop her things being taken back, but the bailiff told me there was no point, for he had other orders to serve on her. Since she is going to die, it is better to let everything go than to try and save it for her family, given that she does not want to see any of them and, in any case, they never cared for her. You can have no idea of the gilded poverty in which the poor girl lies dying. Yesterday, we had no money at all. Plate, jewels, Indian shawls-everything has been pawned and the rest has been sold or seized. Marguerite is still aware of what is happening around her, and she suffers in body, mind and heart. Great tears run down her cheeks which are now so thin and pale that, if you saw her now, you would not recognize the face of the woman you once loved so much. She made me promise to write to you when she was no longer able to do so herself, and she is watching as I write this. She turns her eyes in my direction, but she cannot see me, for her sight is already dimmed by approaching death. And yet she smiles, and all her thoughts, all her soul, are for you, I am sure. Each time the door opens, her eyes light up, for each time she believes that you will walk in. Then, when she sees that it is not you, her face reverts to its expression of suffering, breaks into a cold sweat and her cheeks turn crimson. 19 February, midnight Oh, poor Monsieur Armand! What a sad day today has been! This morning, Marguerite could not get her breath. The doctor bled her, and her voice came back a little. The doctor advised her to see a priest. She said she would, and he himself went off to find one at the Church of Saint Roch. Meanwhile, Marguerite called me close to her bedside, asked me to open her wardrobe, pointed out a lace cap and a long shift, also richly decked with lace, and then said in a weakened voice: "I shall die after I have made my confession. When it's over, you are to dress me in these things. It is the whim of a dying woman." Then, weeping, she kissed me and added: "I can speak, but I can't get my breath when I do. I can't breathe! Give me air!" I burst into tears and opened the window. A few moments later, the priest walked in. I went to greet him. When he realized in whose apartment he was, he seemed afraid of the reception he might get. "Come in, father, there's nothing to fear," I said. He stayed no time in the room where Marguerite lay so ill, and when he emerged, he said: "She has lived a sinful life, but she will die a Christian death." A few moments later, he returned with an altar-boy carrying a crucifix, and a sacristan who walked before them ringing a bell to announce that the Lord was coming to the house of the dying woman. All three entered the bedroom which, in times gone by, had echoed with so many extravagant voices, and was now nothing less than a holy tabernacle. I fell to my knees. I cannot say how long the effect of these proceedings on me will last, but I do not believe that any human thing will ever produce such an effect on me again until I myself reach the same pass. The priest took the holy oils, anointed the dying woman's feet, hands and brow, read a short prayer, and Marguerite was ready for heaven, where she is surely bound if God has looked down on the tribulations of her life and the saintly character of her death. Since that moment, she has not spoken or stirred. There were a score of times when I would have thought she was dead, had I not heard her laboured breathing. 20 February, 5 o'clock in the afternoon It is all over. Marguerite began her mortal agony last night, around two o'clock. No martyr ever suffered such torment, to judge by the screams she uttered. Two or three times, she sat bolt upright in her bed, as though she would snatch at the life which was winging its way back to God. And two or three times she said your name. Then everything went quiet, and she slumped back on the bed exhausted. Silent tears welled up in her eyes, and she died. I went close to her, called her name and, when she did not answer, I closed her eyes and kissed her on the forehead. Poor, dear Marguerite! How I wished I had been a holy woman so that my kiss might commend your soul to God! Then I dressed her as she had asked. I went to fetch a priest at Saint-Roch. I lit two candies for her, and stayed in the church for an hour to pray. I gave money of hers to some poor people there. I am not well versed in religion, but I believe that the good Lord will acknowledge that my tears were genuine, my prayers fervent and my charity sincere, and He will have pity on one who died young and beautiful, yet had only me to close her eyes and lay her in her grave. 22 February The funeral was today. Many of Marguerite's women friends came to the church. A few wept honest tears. When the cortege set off for Montmartre, only two men followed the hearse: Count de G, who had returned specially from London, and the Duke, who walked with the aid of two of his footmen. I am writing to tell you of these happenings from Marguerite's apartment, with tears in my eyes, by the light of the lamp which burns mournfully and with my dinner untouched, as you might imagine, though Nanine had it sent up for me, for I have not eaten in more than twenty-four hours. Life moves on and will not allow me to keep these distressing pictures clear in my mind for long, for my life is no more mine than Marguerite's was hers. Which is why I am writing down all these things here in the place where they happened, for I fear that if any length of time were to elapse between what has occurred and your return, I should not be able to give you an account of it in all its sorry detail.' 第二十六章 在那决定命运的一夜以后所发生的事情，您跟我一样清楚，但是在我们分离以后我所受的痛苦您却是不知道，也是您想象不到的。 我知道您父亲已把您带走，但是我不太相信您能离开我而长期这样生活下去，那天我在香榭丽舍大街遇到您时我很激动，但是我并不感到意外。 然后就开始了那一连串的日子，在那些日子里您每天都要想出点新花样来侮辱我，这些侮辱可以说我都愉快地接受了，因为除了这种侮辱是您始终爱我的证据以外，我似乎觉得您越是折磨我，等到您知道真相的那一天，我在您眼里也就会显得越加崇高。 不要为我这种愉快的牺牲精神感到惊奇，阿尔芒，您以前对我的爱情已经把我的心灵向着崇高的激情打开了。 但是我不是一下子就这样坚强的。 在我为您作出牺牲和您回来之间有一段很长的时间，在这段时间里为了不让自己发疯，为了在我投入的那种生活中去自我麻醉，我需要求助于肉体上的疲劳。普律当丝已经对您讲了，是不是？我一直像在过节一样，我参加所有的舞会和宴饮。 在这样过度的纵情欢乐之后，我多么希望自己快些死去；而且，我相信这个愿望不久就会实现的，我的健康无疑是越来越糟了。在我请迪韦尔诺瓦太太来向您求饶的时候，我在肉体上和灵魂上都已极度衰竭。 阿尔芒，我不想向您提起，在我最后一次向您证明我对您的爱情时，您是怎样报答我的，您又是用什么样的凌辱来把这个女人赶出巴黎的。这个垂死的女人在听到您向她要求一夜恩爱的声音时感到无法拒绝，她像一个失去理智的人，曾一时以为这个夜晚可以把过去和现在重新连接起来。阿尔芒，您有权做您做过的事，别人在我那里过夜，出的价钱并不总是那么高的！ 于是我抛弃了一切，奥林普在N先生身边代替了我，有人对我说，她已经告诉了他我离开巴黎的原因。G伯爵在伦敦，他这种人对于跟像我这样的姑娘的爱情关系只不过看作一种愉快的消遣。他和跟他相好过的女人总是保持着朋友关系，既不怀恨在心，也不争风吃醋，总之他是一位阔老爷，他只向我们打开他心灵的一角，但是他的钱包倒是向我们敞开的。我立即想到了他，就去找了他，他非常殷勤地接待了我，但是他在那边已经有了一个情妇，是一个上流社会的女人。他怕与我之间的事情张扬出去对他不利，便把我介绍给了他的朋友们。他们请我吃夜宵，吃过夜宵，其中有一个人就把我带走了。 您要我怎么办呢，我的朋友？ 自杀吗？这可能给您应该是幸福的一生带来不必要的内疚；再说，一个快要死的人为什么还要自杀呢？ 我成了没有灵魂的躯壳，没有思想的东西，我行尸走肉般地过了一段时期这样的生活，随后我又回到巴黎，打听您的消息，这我才知道您已经出远门去了。我得不到任何支持，我的生活又恢复到两年前我认识您时一样了，我想再把公爵找回来，但是我过分地伤了这个人的心，而老年人都是没有耐心的，大概因为他们觉得自己不是长生不老的。我的病况日益严重，我脸色苍白，我心情悲痛，我越来越瘦，购买爱情的男人在取货以前是要先看看货色的。巴黎有的是比我健康、比我丰满的女人，大家有点把我忘记了，这些就是今天以前发生的事情。 现在我已经完全病倒了。我已写信给公爵问他要钱，因为我已经没有钱了，而债主们都来了，他们一点同情心也没有，带着借据逼我还帐。公爵会给我回信吗？阿尔芒，您为什么不在巴黎啊！如果您在的话，您会来看我的，您来了会使我得到安慰。 十二月二十日 天气很可怕，又下着雪，我孤零零地一个人在家里，三天来我一直在发高烧，没有跟您写过一个字。没有什么新情况，我的朋友，每天我总是痴心妄想能收到您一封信，但是信没有来，而且肯定是永远不会来的了。只有男人才硬得起心肠不给人宽恕。公爵没有给我回信。 普律当丝又开始上当铺了。 我不停地咳血。啊！如果您看见我，一定会难受的。您在一个阳光明媚，气候温和的环境中是很幸福的，不像我这样，冰雪的严冬整个压在我胸口上。今天我起来了一会儿，隔着窗帘，我看到了窗外的巴黎生活，这种生活我已经跟它绝缘了。有几张熟脸快步穿过大街，他们欢乐愉快，无忧无虑，没有一个人抬起头来望望我的窗口。但是也有几个年轻人来过，留下了姓名。过去曾有过一次，在我生病的时候，您每天早晨都来打听我的病况，而那时候您还不认识我，您只是在我第一次认识您的时候从我那里得到过一次无礼的接待。我现在又病了，我们曾在一起过了六个月，凡是一个女人的心里能够容纳得下和能够给人的爱情，我都拿出来给了您。您在远方，您在咒骂我，我得不到您一句安慰的话。但这是命运促成您这样遗弃我的，这我是深信不疑的，因为如果您在巴黎，您是不会离开我的床头和我的房间的。 十二月二十五日 我的医生不准我天天写信。的确，回首往事只能使我的热度升高。但是昨天我收到了一封信，这封信使我感到舒服了些，这封信所表达的感情要比它给我带来的物质援助更让我高兴。因此我今天可以给您写信了。这封信是您父亲寄来的。下面就是这封信的内容。 夫人： 我刚刚知道您病了，如果我在巴黎的话，我会亲自来探问您的病情，如果我儿子在身旁的话，我会叫他去打听您的消息的；但是我不能离开C城，阿尔芒又远在六七百法里之外。请允许我跟您写封简单的信吧。夫人，对您的病我感到非常难过，请相信我，我诚挚地祝愿您早日痊愈。 我一位好朋友H先生要到您家里去，请接待他。我请他代我办一件事，我正焦急地等待着这件事的结果。 致以最亲切的问候。 这就是我接到的那封信，您父亲有一颗高贵的心，您要好好爱他，我的朋友，因为世界上值得爱的人不多，这张签着他姓名的信纸比我们最著名的医生开出的所有的药方要有效得多。 今天早晨，H先生来了，他对迪瓦尔先生托付给他的微妙的任务似乎显得很为难，他是专门来代您父亲带一千埃居给我的。起先我是不想要的，但是H先生对我说，如果我不收下的话会使迪瓦尔先生不高兴，迪瓦尔先生授权他先把这笔钱给我，随后再满足我其他的需要。我接受了这个帮助，这个来自您父亲的帮助不能算是施舍。如果您回来的时候我已经死了，请把我刚才写的关于他的那一段话给他看，并告诉他，他好心给她写慰问信的那个可怜的姑娘在写这几行字的时候流下了感激的眼泪，并为他向天主祈祷。 一月四日 我刚捱过了一些非常痛苦的日子。我从来没想到肉体会使人这样痛苦。呵！我过去的生活啊！今天我加倍偿还了。 每天夜里都有人照料我，我喘不过气来。我可怜的一生剩下来的日子就这样在说胡话和咳嗽中度过。 餐室里放满了朋友们送来的糖果和各式各样的礼物。在这些人中间，肯定有些人希望我以后能做他们的情妇。如果他们看到病魔已经把我折磨成了什么样子，我想他们一定会吓得逃跑的。 普律当丝用我收到的新年礼物来送礼。 天气冷得都结冰了，医生对我说如果天气一直晴朗下去的话，过几天我可以出去走走。 一月八日 昨天我坐着我的车子出门，天气很好。香榭丽舍大街人头攒动，真是一个明媚的早春。四周一片欢乐的气象。我从来也没有想到过，我还能在阳光下找到昨天那些使人感到喜悦、温暖和安慰的东西。 所有的熟人我几乎全碰到了，他们一直是那么笑逐颜开，忙于寻乐。身在福中不知福的人有那么多啊！奥林普坐在一辆N先生送给她的漂亮的马车里经过，她想用眼光来侮辱我。她不知道我现在根本没有什么虚荣心了。一个好心的青年，我的老相识，问我是不是愿意去跟他一起吃夜宵，他说他有一个朋友非常希望认识我。 我苦笑了笑，把我烧得滚烫的手伸给他。 我从未见过谁的脸色有他那么惊惶的。 我四点钟回到家里，吃晚饭时胃口还相当好。 这次出门对我是有好处的。 一旦我病好起来的话，那该有多好啊！ 有一些人在前一天还灵魂空虚，在阴沉沉的病房里祈求早离人世，但是在看到了别人的幸福生活以后居然也产生了一种想继续活下去的希望。 一月十日 希望病愈只不过是一个梦想。我又躺倒了，身上涂满了灼得我发痛的药膏。过去千金难买的身躯今天恐怕是一钱不值了！ 我们一定是前世作孽过多，再不就是来生将享尽荣华，所以天主才会使我们这一生历尽赎罪和磨炼的煎熬。 一月二十日 我一直很难受。 N伯爵昨天送钱给我，我没有接受。这个人的东西我都不要，就是为了他才害得您不在我身边。 哦！我们在布吉瓦尔的日子有多美啊！此刻您在哪里啊？ 如果我能活着走出这个房间，我一定要去朝拜那座我们一起住过的房子，但看来我只能被抬着出去了。 谁知道我明天还能不能写信给您？ 一月二十五日 已经有十一个夜晚我没法安睡了，我闷得透不过气来，每时每刻我都以为我要死了。医生嘱咐不能再让我动笔。朱利?迪普拉陪着我，她倒允许我跟您写上几行。难道在我死以前您就不会回来了吗？我们之间的关系就此永远完了吗？我似乎觉得只要您来了，我的病就会好的。可是病好了又有什么用呢？ 一月二十八日 今天早晨我被一阵很大的声音惊醒了。睡在我房里的朱利马上跑到餐室里去。我听到朱利在跟一些男人争吵，但没有用处，她哭着回来了。 他们是来查封的。我对朱利说让他们去干他们称之为司法的事吧。执达吏戴着帽子走进了我的房间。他打开所有的抽屉，把他看见的东西都登记下来，他仿佛没有看见床上有一个垂死的女人，幸而法律仁慈，这张床总算设给查封掉。 他走的时候总算对我说了一句话，我可以在九天之内提出反对意见，但是他留下了一个看守！我的天啊，我将变成什么啦！这场风波使我的病加重了。普律当丝想去向您父亲的朋友要些钱，我反对她这样做。 一月三十日 今天早晨我收到了您的来信，这是我渴望已久的，您是不是能及时收到我的回信？您还能见到我吗？这是一个幸福的日子，它使我忘记了六个星期以来我所经受的一切，尽管我写回信的时候心情悒郁，我还是觉得好受一些了。 总之，人总不会永远不幸的吧。 我还想到也许我不会死，也许您能回来，也许我将再一次看到春天，也许您还是爱我的，也许我们将重新开始我们去年的生活！ 我真是疯了！我几乎拿不住笔了，我正用这支笔把我心里的胡思乱想写给您。 不管发生什么事，我总是非常爱您，阿尔芒，如果我没有这种爱情的回忆和重新看到您在我身旁的渺茫的希望支持我的话，我可能早已离开人世了。 二月四日 G伯爵回来了。他的情妇欺骗了他，他很难过，他是很爱她的。他把一切都告诉了我。这个可怜的年轻人的事业不太妙，尽管这样，他还是付了一笔钱给我的执达吏，并遣走了看守。 我向他讲起了您，他答应我向您谈谈我的情况。在这个时候我竟然忘记了我曾经做过他的情妇，而他也想让我把这件事忘掉！他的心肠真好！ 昨天公爵派人来探问我的病情，今天早上他自己来了。我不知道这个老头儿是怎么活下来的。他在我身边呆了三个小时，没有跟我讲几句话。当他看到我苍白得这般模样的时候，两大颗泪珠从他的眼睛里滴落下来。他一定是想到了他女儿的死才哭的。他就要看到她死第二次了，他伛偻着背，脑袋聋拉着，嘴唇下垂，目光黯淡。他衰朽的身体背负着年老和痛苦这两个重负，他没有讲一句责备我的话。别人甚至会说他在暗暗地庆幸疾病对我的摧残呢。他似乎为他能够站着觉得骄傲，而我还年纪轻轻，却已经被病痛压垮了。 天气又变坏了，没有人来探望我，朱利尽可能地照料着我。普律当丝因为我已经不能像以前那样给她那么多钱，就开始借口有事不肯到我这里来了。 不管医生们怎么说，现在我快死了。我有好几个医生，这证明了我的病情在恶化。我几乎在后悔当初听了您父亲的话，如果我早知道在您未来的生活中我只要占您一年的时间，我可能不会放弃跟您一起度过这一年的愿望，至少我可以握着我朋友的手死去。不过如果我们在一起度过这一年，我也肯定不会死得这么快的。 天主的意志是不可违逆的！ 二月五日 喔！来啊，来啊，阿尔芒，我难受死了。我要死了，我的天。昨天我是多么悲伤，我竟不想待在家里，而宁愿到别处去度过夜晚了，这个夜晚会像前天夜晚一样漫长。早晨公爵来了，这个被死神遗忘了的老头子一出现就仿佛在催我快点儿死。 尽管我发着高烧，我还是叫人替我穿好了衣服，乘车到歌舞剧院去。朱利替我抹了脂粉，否则我真有点儿像一具尸体了。我到了那个我第一次跟您约会的包厢；我一直把眼睛盯在您那天坐的位置上，而昨天那里坐着的却是一个乡下佬，一听到演员的插科打诨，他就粗野地哄笑着。人们把我送回家时，我已经半死不活。整个晚上我都在咳嗽吐血。今天我话也说不出，我的胳膊几乎都抬不起来了。我的天！我的天！我就要死了。我本来就在等死，但是我没有想到会受到这样的简直无法忍受的痛苦，如果…… 从这个字开始，玛格丽特勉强写下的几个字母已看不清楚了。是朱利?迪普拉接着写下去的。 二月十八日 阿尔芒先生： 自从玛格丽特坚持要去看戏的那天起，她的病势日渐加重，嗓子完全失音，接着四肢也不能动弹了。我们那可怜的朋友所忍受的痛苦是无法描述的。我可没经受过这样的刺激，我一直感到害怕。 我多么希望您能在我们身边，她几乎一直在说胡话，但不论是在昏迷还是在清醒的时候，只要她能讲出几个字来，那就是您的名字。 医生对我说她已经没有多少时间了，自从她病危以来，老公爵没有再来过。 他对医生说过，这种景象使他太痛苦了。 迪韦尔诺瓦太太的为人真不怎么样。这个女人一向几乎完全是靠着玛格丽特生活的，她以为在玛格丽特那里还可以搞到更多的钱，曾欠下了一些她无力偿还的债。当她看到她的邻居对她已毫无用处的时候，她甚至连看也不来看她了。所有的人都把她抛弃了。G先生被债务逼得又动身到伦敦去了。临走的时候他又给我们送了些钱来；他已经尽力而为了。可是又有人来查封了，债主们就等着她死，以便拍卖她的东西。 我原来想用我仅剩的一些钱来阻止他们查封，但是执达吏对我说这没有用，而且他还要执行别的判决。既然她就要死了，那还是把一切都放弃了的好，又何必去为那些她不愿意看见，而且从来也没有爱过她的家属保留下什么东西呢。您根本想象不出可怜的姑娘是怎样在外表富丽、实际穷困的境况中死去的。昨天我们已经一文不名了。餐具，首饰，披肩全都当掉了，其余的不是卖掉了就是被查封了。玛格丽特对她周围发生的事还很清楚。她肉体上、精神上和心灵上都觉得非常痛苦，豆大的泪珠滚下她的两颊，她的脸那么苍白又那么瘦削，即使您能见到的话，您也认不出这就是您过去多么喜爱的人的脸庞。她要我答应在她不能再写字的时候写信给您，现在我就在她面前写信。她的眼睛望着我，但是她看不见我，她的目光被行将来临的死亡遮住了，可她还在微笑，我可以断定她的全部思想、整个灵魂都在您身上。 每次有人开门，她的眼睛就闪出光来，总以为您要进来了，随后当她看清来人不是您，她的脸上又露出了痛苦的神色，并渗出一阵阵的冷汗，两颊涨得血红。 二月十九日午夜 今天这个日子是多么凄惨啊，可怜的阿尔芒先生！早上玛格丽特窒息了，医生替她放了血，她稍许又能发出些声音。医生劝她请一个神父，她同意了，医生就亲自到圣罗克教堂去请神父。 这时，玛格丽特把我叫到她床边，请求我打开她的衣橱；她指着一顶便帽，一件镶满了花边的长衬衣，声音微弱地对我说： “我做了忏悔以后就要死了，那时候你就用这些东西替我穿戴上：这是一个垂死女人的化妆打扮。” 随后她又哭着拥抱我，她还说： “我能讲话了，但是我讲话的时候憋得慌，我闷死了！空气啊！” 我泪如雨下，我打开窗子，过不多久神父进来了。 我向神父走去。 当他知道他是在谁的家里时，他似乎很怕受到冷待。 “大胆进来吧，神父，”我对他说。 他在病人的房间里没有待多久，他出来的时候对我说： “她活着的时候是一个罪人，但她将像一个基督徒那样死去。” 过不多久他又回来了，陪他一起来的是一个唱诗班的孩子，手里擎着一个耶稣受难十字架，在他们前面还走着一个教堂侍役，摇着铃，表示天主来到了临终者的家里。 他们三个一起走进了卧室，过去在这个房间里听到的都是些奇怪的语言，如今这个房间却成了一个圣洁的神坛。 我跪了下来，我不知道这一幕景象给我的印象能保持多久；但是我相信，在那以前，人世间还没有发生过使我留下这么深刻印象的事情。 神父在临终者的脚上、手上和前额涂抹圣油，背诵了一段短短的经文，玛格丽特就此准备上天了，如果天主看到了她生时的苦难和死时的圣洁，她无疑是可以进天堂的。 从那以后她没有讲过一句话，也没有做过一个动作，如果我没有听到她的喘气声，我有好多次都以为她已经死了。 二月二十日下午五时 一切都结束了。 玛格丽特半夜两点钟光景进入弥留状态。从来也没有一个殉难者受过这样的折磨，这可以从她的呻吟声里得到证实。有两三次她从床上笔直地坐起来，仿佛想抓住她正在上升到天堂里去的生命。 也有这么两三次，她叫着您的名字，随后一切都寂静无声，她精疲力竭地又摔倒在床上，眼泪默默地从她的眼里流出来，她死了。 于是我向她走去，喊着她的名字，她没有回音，我就合上了她的眼皮，吻了吻她的额头。 可怜的、亲爱的玛格丽特啊，我但愿是一个女圣徒，好使这个吻把你奉献给天主。 随后，我就按照她生前求我做的那样，给她穿戴好，我到圣罗克教堂去找了一个神父，我为她点了两支蜡烛，我在教堂里为她祈祷了一个小时。 我把她剩下的一点钱施舍给了穷人。 我是不大懂得宗教的，但是我相信善良的天主会承认我的眼泪是真挚的，我的祈祷是虔诚的，我的施舍是诚心的，天主将怜悯她，她这么年轻这么美丽就死了，只有我一个人来为她合上眼睛，为她入殓。 二月二十二日 今天举行安葬。玛格丽特的很多女朋友都到教堂里来了，有几个还真诚地哭了，当送葬的队伍向蒙马特公墓走去的时候，只有两个男人跟在后面：G伯爵，他是专门从伦敦赶来的； 还有公爵，两个仆人搀扶着他。 我是在她家里含着眼泪，在灯光下把全部详细经过写下来告诉您的。在那点燃着惨淡的灯火旁边放着一份晚餐，您想象得到我是一口也吃不下的，这是纳尼娜吩咐为我做的，因为我已经有二十四个小时没有吃东西了。 这些惨象是不会长期留在我记忆中的，因为我的生命并不是属于我的，就像玛格丽特的生命不属于她的一样，因此我就在发生这些事情的地方把这些事情告诉您，生怕时间一长，我就不能在您回来的时候把这些惨象确切地讲给您听。

Chapter 25 ARMAND, wearied by the telling of his long tale which had been frequently interrupted by his tears, placed both hands on his forehead and closed his eyes? either to think or to try to sleep? after giving me the pages written in Marguerite's hand. Moments later, a slight quickening in his breathing told me that Armand had been overcome by sleep, but sleep of that shallow kind which the least sound will scatter. This is what I read. I transcribe it without adding or deleting a single syllable: 'Today is the 15th December. I have been ill for three or four days. This morning, I took to my bed; the weather is dull and I feel low. There is no one with me here. I think of you, Armand. And you, where are you now as I write these lines? Far from Paris, far away, I've heard, and perhaps you have already forgotten Marguerite. But be happy, for I owe you the only moments of joy I have known in my life. I could not resist the temptation of wanting to explain why I behaved as I did, and I wrote you a letter. But, coming from a loose woman like me, any such letter may be regarded as a tissue of lies unless it is sanctified by the authority of death, in which case it becomes a confession rather than a letter. Today I am ill. I may die of my illness, for I always had a feeling that I would die young. My mother died of consumption, and the way I have lived up to now can only have aggravated a complaint which was the only legacy she left me. But I do not want do die without your knowing how you stand with me ?if, that is, when you get back, you still feel anything for the sorry creature you loved before you went away. Here is what was in that letter which I shall be happy to write out again, for in so doing I shall convince myself anew that I am vindicated. You remember, Armand, how startled we were at Bougival by the news of your father's arrival; you recall the blind terror his coming prompted in me, and the scene that took place between the two of you which you described to me that evening. The next day, while you were in Paris waiting for your father who never came back, a man came to the house and handed me a letter from Monsieur Duval. The letter, which I enclose with this, begged me, in the gravest terms, to find an excuse for getting you out of the way the following day, and to agree to a visit from your father. He had something to say to me, and was most particular that I should say nothing to you about the step he had taken. You recall how insistent I was, when you got back, that you should return to Paris again the next day. You had been gone an hour when your father arrived to see me. I will spare you an account of what I felt when I saw the stern expression on his face. Your father believed implicitly in the conventional truths according to which every courtesan is a heartless, mindless creature, a kind of gold-grabbing machine always ready, like any other machine, to mangle the hand that feeds it and crush, pitilessly, blindly, the very person who gives it life and movement. Your father had written me a very proper letter to persuade me to see him; when he came, his manner was somewhat at variance with the way he had written. There were enough slights, insults and even open threats in his opening words for me to give him to understand that he was in my house, and that the only account of my life I owed him was dictated by the genuine affection I felt for his son. Monsieur Duval moderated his tone a little, yet even so he began saying that he could no longer permit his son to go on ruining himself for me. He said I was beautiful, there was no denying it, but however beautiful I was, I ought not to use my beauty to destroy the future of a young man by expecting him to foot the bill for my extravagance. Now there was only one way of answering that, was there not? and that was to prove that all the time I had been your mistress, no sacrifice had been too great for me to make so that I could remain faithful to you without asking for more money than you could afford to let me have. I showed the pawn-tickets, the receipts given me by people to whom I had sold items I could not pawn; I told your father that I had decided to get rid of my furniture to pay my debts, and that I was determined to live with you without being a drain on your purse. I told him how happy we were. I told him how you had shown me a more tranquil, happier kind of life and, in the end, he conceded that he was in the wrong, and he gave me his hand, asking my pardon for the manner in which he had behaved at first. Then he said: "In that case, madame, it shall not be with remonstrations and threats, but with humble entreaties that I must try to persuade you to make a sacrifice greater than any you have so far made for my son." I trembled at these preliminaries. Your father drew closer to me, took both my hands in his and, in a kindly voice, went on: "Child, you are not to take amiss what I am about to say to you. Please understand that life sometimes places cruel constraints upon our hearts, but submit we must. You are good, and you have generous qualities of soul unknown to many women who may despise you but are not to be compared with you. But reflect that mistresses are one thing and the family quite another; that beyond love lie duties; that after the age of passion comes the time when a man who wishes to be respected needs to be securely placed in a responsible station in life. My son's means are slender, and yet he is prepared to make over all his mother left him to you. If he accepts the sacrifice which you are about to make, then his honour and dignity require that, in return, he would relinquish his legacy which you would always have to fall back on should things go hard. But he cannot accept your sacrifice, because people, who do not know you, would misinterpret his acceptance which must not be allowed to reflect on the name we bear. People would not bother their heads about whether Armand loved you, whether you loved him or whether the love you have for each other meant happiness for him and rehabilitation for you. They would see only one thing, which is that Armand Duval had allowed a kept woman ?forgive me, child, the things I am obliged to say to you ?to sell everything she possessed for his sake. Then the day of reproaches and regrets would dawn, you can be sure of it, for you both just as it would for them, and the pair of you would have a chain around your necks which you could never break. What would you do then? Your youth would be gone, and my son's future would have been destroyed. And I, his father, would have received from only one of my children the return to which I look forward from both of them. "You are young, you are beautiful: life will heal your wounds. You have a noble heart, and the memory of a good deed done will redeem many past actions. During the six months he has known you, Armand has forgotten all about me. Four times I have written letters to him, and not once has he answered. I could have been dead for all he knew! "However determined you are to lead a different kind of existence, Armand, who loves you, will never agree to the retiring life which his modest means would force you to live, for seclusion is no state for beauty like yours. Who knows what he might do! He has already taken to gambling once, as I discovered, and without saying anything to you, as I further discovered. But in a wild moment, he could easily have lost part of what I have been putting aside this many a year for my daughter's dowry, for him, and for the peace of my old age. What might have happened once might still happen. "Besides, can you be sure that the life you'd be giving up for him would never attract you again? Are you certain that, having fallen in love with him, you would never fall in love with anyone else? And, not least, will you not suffer when you see what limitations your affair will set upon your lover's life? You may not be able to console him as he grows older if thoughts of ambition follow the dream of love. Reflect on all these matters, madame. You love Armand. Prove to him in the only way now open to you ?by sacrificing your love to his future. Nothing untoward has happened thus far, but it will, and it may be much worse than I anticipate. Armand may become jealous of some man who once loved you; he may challenge him to a duel, he may fight, he may even be killed, and consider then what you would suffer as you stood before a father who would hold you accountable for the life of his son. "Finally, child, you should know the rest, for I have not told you everything: let me explain my reason for coming to Paris. I have a daughter, as I have just said. She is young, beautiful and pure as an angel. She is in love, and she too has made love the dream of her life. I did write and tell Amand all about it, but, having thoughts for no one but you, he never replied. Well, my daughter is about to be married. As the wife of the man she loves, she will enter a respectable family which requires that there should be nothing dishonourable in my house. The family of the man who is to be my son-in-law has discovered how Armand has been living in Paris, and has declared that the arrangement will be cancelled if Armand continues to live as he does at present. The future of a child of mine who has never harmed you and has every right to look forward to life with confidence, is now in your hands. "Do you have the right to destroy her future? Are you strong enough to? In the name of your love and your repentance, Marguerite, give me my daughter's happiness." I wept in silence, my dear, as I listened to all these considerations which had already occurred to me many times, for now, on your father's lips, they seemed even more pressing and real. I told myself all the things your father dared not say, though they had often been on the tip of his tongue: that I was, when all was said and done, nothing but a kept woman, and whatever I said to justify our affair would sound calculating; that my past life did not qualify me to dream of the future; and that I was taking on responsibilities for which my habits and reputation offered absolutely no guarantee. The truth was that I loved you, Armand. The fatherly way in which Monsieur Duval spoke, the pure feelings he aroused in me, the good opinion of this upright old man which I should acquire, and your esteem which I was certain I would have some day, all these things awoke noble thoughts in my heart which raised me in my own estimation and gave a voice to a kind of sacred self- respect which I had never felt before. When I thought that this old man, now begging me for his son's future, would some day tell his daughter to include my name in her prayers, as that of a mysterious benefactress, I was transformed and looked on myself with pride. In the heat of the moment, the truth of what I felt may perhaps have been exaggerated. But that is what I felt, my dear, and these unaccustomed feelings silence counsels prompted by the memory of happy times spent with you. "Very well," I said to your father as I wiped away my tears. "Do you believe that I love your son?" "Yes,"said Monsieur Duval. "That money does not come into it?" "Yes." "Do you believe that I had made this love of mine the hope, the dream of my life, and its redemption?" "Absolutely. "Well, Monsieur Duval, kiss me once as you would kiss your daughter, and I will swear to you that your touch, the only truly chaste embrace I ever received, will make me stand strong against my love. I swear that within a week, your son will be back with you, unhappy for a time perhaps, but cured for good." "You are a noble-hearted young woman," your father replied, as he kissed my forehead, "and you are taking upon yourself a task which God will not overlook. Yet I fear that you will not change my son's mind." "Do not trouble yourself on that score, Monsieur Duval: he will hate me." A barrier had to be erected between us which neither of us would be able to cross. I wrote to Prudence saying that I accepted Count de N's proposition, and said that she could go and tell him I would have supper with them both. I sealed the letter and, saying nothing of what it contained, I asked your father to see that it was delivered the moment he got back to Paris. Even so, he enquired what was in it. "Your son's happiness,"I answered. Your father embraced me one last time. On my forehead, I felt two tears of gratitude which were, so to speak, the waters of baptism which washed away my former sins and, even as I consented to give myself to another man, I shone with pride at the thought of everything that this new sin would redeem. It was all quite natural, Armand. You once told me your father was the most upright man anyone could hope to meet. Monsieur Duval got into his carriage and drove off. Yet I was a woman, and when I saw you again, I could not help weeping. But I did not weaken. Was I right? That is the question I ask myself today when illness forces me to take to my bed which I shall perhaps leave only when I am dead. You yourself witnessed all that I suffered as the time for our inevitable separation drew near. Your father was not there to see me through, and there was a moment when I came very near to telling you everything, so appalling was the idea that you would hate and despise me. One thing that you will perhaps not believe, Armand, is that I prayed to God to give me strength. The proof that He accepted my sacrifice is that He gave me the strength I begged for. During the supper party, I still needed His help, for I could not bring myself to face what I was about to do, such was my fear that my courage would fail me! Who would ever have told me that I, Marguerite Gautier, would be made to suffer such torment by the simple prospect of having a new lover? I drank to forget, and when I woke next morning, I was in the Count's bed. This is the whole truth, my dear. Judge now, and forgive me, as I have forgiven all the hurt you have done me since that day.' 第二十五章 阿尔芒的长篇叙述，经常因为流泪而中断。他讲得很累，把玛格丽特亲手写的几页日记交给我以后，他就双手捂着额头，闭上了眼睛，可能是在凝思，也可能是想睡一会儿。 过了一会儿，我听到他发出了一阵比较急促的呼吸声，这说明阿尔芒已经睡着了，但是睡得不那么熟，一点轻微的声音就会把他惊醒的。 下面就是我看到的内容，我一字不改地抄录了下来： 今天是十二月十五日，我已经病了三四天了。今天早晨我躺在床上，天色阴沉，我心情忧郁；我身边一个人也没有，我在想您，阿尔芒。而您呢，我在写这几行字的时候，您在哪里啊？有人告诉我说，您在离巴黎很远很远的地方，也许您已经忘记了玛格丽特。总之，愿您幸福，我一生中仅有的一些欢乐时刻是您给我的。 我再也忍不住了，我要把我过去的行为给您作一番解释，我已经给您写过一封信了，但是一封由我这样一个姑娘写的信，很可能被看作是满纸谎言；除非我死了，由于死亡的权威而使这封信神圣化；除非这不是一封普通的信，而是一份忏悔书，才会有人相信。 今天我病了，我可能就此一病至死。因为我一直预感到我的寿命不会太长了。我母亲是生肺病死的，这种病是她留给我的唯一遗产；而我那一贯的生活方式只会使我的病加重。我不愿意悄悄死去而不让您弄清楚关于我的一切事情，万一您回来的时候，您还在留恋那个您离开以前爱过的那个可怜姑娘的话。 以下就是这封信的内容，为了给我的辩解提供一个新的证明，我是非常高兴把它再写一遍的。 阿尔芒，您还记得吗？在布吉瓦尔的时候，您父亲到来的消息是怎样把我们吓了一跳的吧；您还记得您父亲的到来引起我不由自主的恐惧吧；您还记得您在当天晚上讲给我听的关于您和他之间发生的事情吧。 第二天，当您还在巴黎等着您父亲、可是总不见他回来的时候，一个男子来到我家里，交给我一封迪瓦尔先生的来信。 这封信我现在附在这里，它措辞极其严肃地要求我第二天借故把您遣开，以便接待您的父亲；您父亲有话要和我谈，他特别叮嘱我一点也不要把他的举动讲给您听。 您还记得在您回来以后，我是怎样坚持要您第二天再到巴黎去的吧。 您走了一个小时以后，您父亲就来了。他严峻的脸色给我的印象也不用我对您多说了。您父亲满脑子都是旧观念，他认为凡是妓女都是一些没有心肝、没有理性的生物，她们是一架榨钱的机器，就像钢铁铸成的机器一样，随时随地都会把递东西给它的手压断，毫不留情、不分好歹地粉碎保养它和驱使它的人。 您父亲为了要我同意接待他，写了一封很得体的信给我；但他来了以后却不像他信上所写的那样客气。谈话开始的时候，他盛气凌人，傲慢无礼，甚至还带着威胁的口吻，以致我不得不让他明白这是在我的家里，要不是为了我对他的儿子有真挚的感情，我才没有必要向他报告我的私生活呢。 迪瓦尔先生稍许平静了一些，不过他还是对我说他不能再听任他儿子为我弄得倾家荡产。他说我长得漂亮，这是事实，但是不论我怎么漂亮，也不应该凭借我的姿色去挥霍无度，去牺牲一个年轻人的前途。 对这个问题只能用一件事来回答，是不是？我只有提出证据说明，自从我成为您的情妇以来，为了对您保持忠实，而又不再向您要求过超出您经济能力的钱财，我不惜作出了一切牺牲。我拿出当票来给他看，有些我不能典当的东西我卖掉了，我把买主的收条给他看，我还告诉您父亲，为了跟您同居而又不要成为您一个过重的负担，我已经决定变卖我的家具来还债。我把我们的幸福，您对我讲过的一个比较平静和比较幸福的生活讲给他听，他终于明白了，把手伸向我，要我原谅他开始时对我耍的态度。 接着他对我说：“那么，夫人，这样的话我就不是用指责和威胁，而是用请求来请您作出一种牺牲，这种牺牲比您已经为我儿子所作的牺牲还要大。” 我一听这个开场白就全身颤抖。 您父亲向我走来，握住我两只手，亲切地接着说： “我的孩子，请您别把我就要跟您讲的话往坏的方面想；不过您要懂得生活对于心灵有时是残酷的，但这是一种需要，所以必须忍受。您心地好，您的灵魂里有很多善良的想法是一般女人所没有的，她们也许看不起您，但却及不上您。不过请您想一想，一个人除了情妇之外还有家庭；除了爱情之外还有责任；要想到一个人在生活中经过了充满激情的阶段以后就到了需要受人尊敬的阶段，这就需要有一个稳固的靠得住的地位。我儿子没有财产，然而他准备把他从母亲那里继承来的财产过户给您。如果他接受了您即将作出的牺牲，他也许出于荣誉和尊严就要把他这笔财产给您作为报答。您有了这笔财产，生活就永远不会受苦。但是您的这种牺牲他不能接受，因为社会不了解您，人们会以为同意接受您的牺牲可能出自于一个不光彩的原因，以致玷辱我家的门楣。人们可不管阿尔芒是不是爱您，您是不是爱他；人们可不管这种相互之间的爱情对他是不是一种幸福，对您是不是说明在重新做人；人们只看到一件事，就是阿尔芒?迪瓦尔竟然能容忍一个妓女，我的孩子，请原谅我不得不对您说的这些话，容忍一个妓女为了他而把所有的东西统统卖掉。往后的日子就是埋怨和懊悔，相信这句话吧，对您和别人都一样，你们两个人就套上了一条你们永远不能砸碎的锁链。那时候你们怎么办呢？你们的青春将要消逝，我儿子的前途将被断送；而我，他的父亲，我原来等待着两个孩子的报答，却只能有一个孩子来报答我了。 “您年轻漂亮，生活会给您安慰的；您是高贵的，做一件好事可以赎清您很多过去的罪过。阿尔芒认识您才六个月，他就忘记了我。我给他写了四封信，他一次也没有想到写回信给我，也许我死了他还不知道呢！ “阿尔芒是那么爱您，不管您怎样下决心今后不再像过去那样生活，他也决不会因他的景况不佳而让您过苦日子的，而清苦生活跟您的美貌是不相称的。到那时候，谁知道他会干出些什么事来！我知道他已经在赌钱了，我也知道他没有对您讲过；但是他很可能在感情冲动的时候，把我多年积蓄起来的钱输掉一部分。这些钱是为了替我女儿置嫁妆，也是为了阿尔芒，也是为了我老来能有一个安静的晚年而储存起来的，还得准备对付其他可能发生的意外事情。 “再说您是不是可以肯定您再也不会留恋为了他而抛弃的那种生活呢？您过去是爱他的，您是不是能肯定以后决不再爱别人呢？随着年龄的增长，如果爱情的梦想让位于对事业的勃勃雄心，你们的关系就会给您情人的生活带来某些您可能无法逾越的障碍，到那时候，难道您不觉得痛苦吗？夫人，这一切您要考虑考虑，您爱阿尔芒，您就只能用这个方式向他证明您的爱情：为他的前途而牺牲您的爱情。现在还没有发生什么不幸的事，但是以后会发生的，可能比我预料的还要糟。阿尔芒可能会嫉妒一个曾经爱过您的人，他会向他挑衅，会和他决斗，最后他还会被杀死。您想想，到那时候，在我面前，在这个要求您为他儿子生命负责的父亲面前，您将会感到多么痛苦啊！ “总之，我的孩子，把一切全告诉了您吧，因为我还没有把一切全说出来，要知道我是为什么到巴黎来的，我有一个女儿，我刚才跟您提到过她，她年轻漂亮，像一个天使那样纯洁。她在恋爱，她同样也在把这种爱情当作她一生的美梦。我把这一切都写信告诉阿尔芒了，但是他的全部心思都在您身上，他没有给我写回信。现在我的女儿快要结婚了，她要嫁给她心爱的男人，她要走进一个体面的家庭，这个家庭希望能门当户对。我未来的女婿家庭知道了阿尔芒在巴黎的行为，向我宣称，如果阿尔芒继续这样生活下去，他们将收回前言。一个女孩子的前途就掌握在您手里了，她可从来没有冒犯过您啊，而且她是应该有一个美好的未来的。 “您有权利去破坏她未来的美好生活吗？您下得了手吗？既然您爱阿尔芒，既然您痛悔前非，玛格丽特，把我女儿的幸福给我吧。” 我的朋友，面对这些过去我也曾反复考虑过的情况，我只能吞声饮泣，而且这些事情出自于您父亲嘴里，这就更加证明了它们是非常现实的。我心里想着所有那些您父亲已经多次到了嘴边，但又不敢对我讲的话：我只不过是一个妓女，不管我讲得多么有理，这种关系看起来总是像一种自私的打算；我过去的生活已经使我没有权利来梦想这样的未来，那么我必须对我的习惯和名誉所造成的后果承担责任。总之，我爱您，阿尔芒。迪瓦尔先生对我像父亲般的态度，我对他产生了纯洁的感情，我就要赢得的这个正直的老人对我的尊敬，我相信以后也必定会得到的您对我的尊敬，所有这一切都在我心里激起了一个崇高的思想，这些思想使我在自己心目中变得有了价值，并使我产生了一种从未有过的圣洁的自豪感。当我想到这个为了他儿子的前途而向我恳求的老年人，有一天会告诉他女儿要把我的名字当作一个神秘的朋友的名字来祈祷，我的思想境界就与过去截然不同了，我的内心充满了骄傲。 一时的狂热可能夸大了这些印象的真实性，但这就是我当时的真实想法。朋友，对和您一起度过的幸福日子的回忆也在从另一边劝我，但有了这些新的感情以后，我也就顾不上这些劝告了。 “好吧，先生，”我抹着眼泪对您父亲说，“您相信我爱您的儿子吗？” “相信的。”迪瓦尔先生说。 “是一种无私的爱情吗？” “是的。” “我曾经把这种爱情看作我生活的希望，梦想和安慰。您相信吗？” “完全相信。” “那么先生，就像吻您女儿那样地吻我吧，我向您发誓。这个我所得到的唯一真正纯洁的吻会给我战胜爱情的力量，一个星期以内，您儿子就会回到您身边，他可能会难受一个时期，但他从此就得救了。” “您是一位高贵的姑娘。”您父亲吻着我的前额说，“您要做的是一件天主也会赞许的事，但是我很怕您对我儿子将毫无办法。” “喔，请放心，先生，他会恨我的。” 我们之间必须有一道不可逾越的障碍，为了我，也为了您。 我写信给普律当丝，告诉她我接受了N伯爵先生的要求，要她去对伯爵说，我将和他们两人一起吃夜宵。 我封好信，也不跟您父亲说里面写了些什么，我请他到巴黎以后叫人把这封信按地址送去。 不过他还是问我信里写了些什么？ “写的是您儿子的幸福。”我回答他说。 您父亲最后又吻了我一次。我感到有两滴感激的泪珠滴落在我的前额上，这两滴泪珠就像对我过去所犯的错误的洗礼。就在我刚才同意委身于另一个男人的时候，一想到用这个新的错误所赎回的东西时我自豪得满脸生光。 这是非常自然的，阿尔芒；您曾经跟我讲过您父亲是世界上最正直的人。 迪瓦尔先生坐上马车走了。 可我毕竟是个女人，当我重新看见您时，我忍不住哭了，但是我没有动摇。 今天我病倒在床上，也许要到死才能离开这张床。我心里在想：“我做得对吗？” 当我们不得不离别的时刻越来越近时，我的感受您是亲眼看到的。您父亲已经不在那里，没有人支持我了。一想到您要恨我，要看不起我，我有多么惊慌啊，有一忽儿我几乎要把一切都说给您听了。 有一件事您可能不会相信，阿尔芒，这就是我请求天主给我力量。天主赐给了我向他祈求的力量，这就证明了他接受了我的牺牲。 在那次吃夜宵的时候，我还是需要有人帮助，因为我不愿意知道我要做些什么，我多么怕我会失掉勇气啊！ 有谁会相信我，玛格丽特?戈蒂埃，在想到又要有一个新情人的时候，竟然会如此的悲伤？ 为了忘却一切，我喝了好多酒，第二天醒来时我睡在伯爵的床上。 这就是全部事实真相，朋友，请您评判吧。原谅我吧，就像我已经原谅了您从那天起所给我的一切苦难一样。

Chapter 24 IT was something, but it was not enough. I knew what power I had over her, and took cowardly advantage of it. When I reflect that she is dead now, I wonder if God will ever forgive me for the hurt I caused her. After supper, which was very rowdy, people began to gamble. I sat next to Olympe, and bet my money so boldly that she could hardly fail to notice. In a trice, I won a hundred and fifty or two hundred louis which I spread out in front of me; she stared at them with eager eyes. I was the only person there who was not totally absorbed by the play, and I alone paid her any attention. For the rest of the night, I went on winning, and it was I who gave her money to gamble with, for she had lost everything she had on the table in front of her, and most probably all the money she had in the house. People started to leave at five in the morning. I had won three hundred louis. All the gamblers had gone downstairs. Only I had stayed behind. No one noticed, for none of the other gentlemen were friends of mine. Olympe herself was lighting them down the staircase, and I was about to go down like everyone else, when, turning back to her, I said: 'I must speak to you.' 'Tomorrow, ' she said. 'No. Now.' 'What is it you want to say?' 'You'll see.' And I went back into her apartment. 'You lost, ' I said. 'Yes.' 'Everything you had here?' She hesitated. 'Speak frankly.' 'Oh very well, you're right.' 'I won three hundred louis. They're yours, if you let me stay.' And, as I spoke, I tossed the gold on to the table. 'Why the offer?' 'Because I love you, dammit!' 'No so. Because you're in love with Marguerite and want to have your revenge by becoming my lover. You can't fool a woman like me, you know. Unfortunately, I'm still too young and too beautiful to accept the role you propose.' 'So you refuse?' 'Yes.' 'Would you rather have me for love than money? If so, I should be the one to refuse. Think, my dear Olympe. If I'd sent somebody or other along to offer you these same three hundred louis on my behalf and on the same terms that I have set out, you would have accepted. I preferred to deal with you directly. Say yes, and don't look for motives behind what I'm doing. Keep telling yourself that you're beautiful, that there's nothing surprising in the fact that I'm in love with you.' Marguerite was a kept woman like Olympe, and yet the first time I saw her, I would never have dared say to her what I had just said to this woman. The difference was that I loved Marguerite, and had sensed instincts in her which were lacking in this other creature who, for all her very great beauty, even as I put the arrangement to her and prepared to agree terms, sickened me. In the end she consented, of course, and when I walked out of her apartment at noon, I was her lover. But I slipped from her bed carrying away no memory of the caresses and loving words which she had felt obliged to lavish on me in exchange for the six thousand francs which I left for her. And yet men had ruined themselves for that woman. Starting from that day, I subjected Marguerite to constant persecution. Olympe and she stopped seeing each other: you can easily understand why. I gave my new mistress a carriage and jewels, I gambled and, in a word, committed all the follies which a man in love with a woman like Olympe normally commits. Rumours of my new passion spread at once. Even Prudence was taken in by them and ended up believing that I had completely forgotten Marguerite. Marguerite, either because she guessed the motive which drove me or because she was deceived like everyone else, responded with great dignity to the slights I inflicted on her every day. Yet she appeared to be ill, for everywhere I met her I found her looking paler and paler and increasingly sad. My love for her, exalted to the point where it felt as though it had turned to hate, revelled in the spectacle of her daily sufferings. Several times, in situations where I behaved with unspeakable cruelty, Marguerite looked at me with such imploring eyes that I reddened at the role I had chosen to play, and came near to asking for her forgiveness. But my repentance never lasted longer than a flash of lightning. Besides, Olympe, who in the end had set aside all thought of self-respect and realized that by hurting Marguerite she could get anything she wanted out of me, constantly set me against her and, whenever she had the chance, insulted her with the relentless cowardice of a woman who has the backing of a man. Finally, Marguerite stopped going either to the ball or the theatre for fear of meeting Olympe and me. Then the direct insults were replaced by anonymous letters: there was nothing too shameful which I did not urge my mistress to put about nor too despicable which I did not myself spread concerning Marguerite. I must have taken leave of my senses to allow affairs to come to such a pass. I was like a man who has got fighting drunk and falls into an uncontrollable rage in which his hand is quite capable of committing a crime without involving his mind. In the midst of it all, I went through torment. The way Marguerite reacted to all my attacks? with a calmness that was as free of scorn as her dignity was of contempt? made her my superior even in my eyes, but served only to provoke me further. One evening, Olympe had gone out somewhere and met Marguerite who, on this occasion, did not spare the stupid girl who insulted her, and things reached the point where Olympe was forced to back down. She came back seething. Marguerite, who had fainted, had to be carried home. As soon as she came in, Olympe told me what had happened. She said that when Marguerite had seen that she was by herself, she had wanted revenge because Olympe was my mistress. She said that I had to write a letter saying that, whether I was with her or not, the woman I loved was to be respected. I have no need to tell you that I agreed. I put everything bitter, shameful and cruel I could think of into that missive which I sent to her home address that same day. This time, the cut went too deep for the unhappy girl to be able to bear it in silence. I was confident that a reply would be delivered. Accordingly, I was determined not to go out all that day. Around two o'clock, there was a ring at the door and Prudence was shown in. I tried to appear unconcerned as I asked her to what I owed her visit. But that day Madame Duvernoy was in no mood for laughter and, sounding terribly upset, she pointed out that since my return, that is for the last three weeks or so, I had not missed an opportunity to hurt Marguerite. It was making her ill. The scene the night before, and the letter I'd sent that morning, had forced her to take to her bed. And so, without framing a single reproach, Marguerite had sent to ask for mercy, informing me that she no longer had either the emotional nor physical strength to endure what I was doing to her. 'If Mademoiselle Gautier, ' I told Prudence, 'wishes to close her door to me, then she is perfectly entitled to do so. But that she should insult a woman I love on the ground that the woman is my mistress, is something which I shall never tolerate.' 'My dear, ' said Prudence, 'you're being ruled by the influence of a heartless, thoughtless, common girl. You love her, it's true, but that's no reason for tormenting a woman who can't defend herself.' 'Let Mademoiselle Gautier send her Count de N to me and the game will be even.' 'You know very well she'll never do that. So let her be, dear Armand. If you saw her, you'd be ashamed of the way you're behaving towards her. She's got no colour, and she's coughing. She's not long for this world now.' Prudence held out her hand to me and added: 'Come and see her. A visit from you will make her very happy.' 'I have no wish to meet Monsieur de N.' 'Monsieur de N is never there. She can't stand him.' 'If Marguerite really wants to see me, she knows where I live. She can come here. But I shall never set foot in the rue d'Antin.' 'And you'd be nice to her?' 'I'd behave perfectly.' 'Well, I'm sure she'll come.' 'Let her.' 'Are you going out today?' 'I shall be home all evening.' 'I'll go and tell her.' Prudence left. I did not even bother to write and let Olympe know that I should not be going to see her. I behaved pretty much as I liked towards her. I hardly spent one night a week with her now. She found consolation with, I believe, an actor from one or other of the Boulevard theatres. I went out for dinner and came back almost immediately. I had fires lit in every room and told Joseph he would not be needed. I could not give you any sort of account of the various thoughts which troubled my mind during the hour I waited. But when I heard the doorbell, at around nine o'clock, they all came together in one emotion so powerful that, as I went to open the door, I was obliged to lean against the wall to prevent myself falling. Fortunately, the hallway was only half-lit, so that the change in my features was less noticeable. Marguerite came in. She was dressed entirely in black and wore a veil. I could only just make out her face beneath the lace. She walked on into the drawing- room and lifted her veil. She was as pale as marble. 'Here I am, Armand, ' she said. 'You wanted to see me. I came.' And, lowering her head which she took in both hands, she burst into tears. I went up to her. 'What is it?' I said falteringly. She pressed my hand without replying, for the tears still dimmed her voice. But a few moments later, having regained something of her composure, she said: 'You have hurt me a great deal, Armand, and I never did anything to you.' 'Never did anything?' I replied, with a bitter smile. 'Nothing, except what circumstances forced me to do to you.' I do not know if you have ever experienced in your life, or ever will, what I went through as I looked at Marguerite. The last time she had come to my apartment, she had sat in the same chair where she was now sitting. But since those days, she had been another man's mistress; other kisses than mine had brushed those lips towards which my own were now involuntarily drawn. And yet I felt that I loved her no less, and perhaps even more, than I had ever loved her. However, it was difficult for me to broach the subject which had brought her. Most likely Marguerite understood this, for she went on: 'My coming here will be tiresome for you, Armand, for I have two requests to make: your forgiveness for what I said to Mademoiselle Olympe yesterday, and your mercy for what you may still be thinking of doing to me. Whether you wanted to or not, you have hurt me so much since your return that I should not now be able to stand a quarter of the emotions which I have borne up to this morning. You will have pity on me, won't you? And you will remember that there are nobler things for a good man to do than to take his revenge against a woman as ill and as wretched as I am. Come. Take my hand. I am feverish: I left my bed to come here to ask, not for your friendship, but for your indifference.' As she asked, I took Marguerite's hand. It was hot, and the poor woman was shivering beneath her velvet cloak. I rolled the armchair in which she was sitting nearer the fire. 'Do you imagine that I didn't suffer, ' I resumed, 'that night when, after waiting for you in the country, I came looking for you in Paris where all I found was that letter which almost drove me out of my mind? 'How could you have deceived me, Marguerite? I loved you so much!' 'Let's not speak of that, Armand, I did not come here to speak of that. I wanted to see you other than as an enemy, that's all, and I wanted to hold your hand once more. You have a young, pretty mistress whom you love, so they say be happy with her and forget me.' 'And what of you? I suppose you're happy?' 'Have I the face of a happy woman, Armand? Don't mock my sorrows, for you should know their cause and extent better than anyone.' 'It was entirely up to you never to be unhappy, if, that is, you are as unhappy as you say.' 'No, my friend, circumstances were too strong for my will. I did not follow my immoral instincts as you seem to be saying, but obeyed a solemn injunction and yielded to arguments which, when some day you know what they were, will make you forgive me.' 'Why not tell me now what these arguments are?' 'Because they would not bring us together again, for we can never be together again, and because they might alienate you from those from whom you must not be alienated.' 'Who are these people?' 'I cannot tell you.' 'Then you're lying.' Marguerite stood up and walked to the door. I could not stand by and watch such silent, expressive grief without being moved by it, when my mind's eye I compared this white-faced, weeping woman with the high-spirited girl who had laughed at me at the Opera-Comique. 'You shall not go, ' I said, thrusting myself against the door. 'Why not?' 'Because in spite of all you've done to me, I still love you and want to keep you here.' 'So that you can throw me out tomorrow, is that it? No, it's out of the question! Our destinies are separate, let's not try to unite them, for them you might despise me, whereas now you have no choice but hate.' 'No, Marguerite, ' I exclaimed, feeling all my love, all my desires awaken with her nearness, 'No, I shall forget all that is past, and we will be happy, as we promised we would.' Marguerite shook her head uncertainly, then said: 'Am I not your slave, your dog? Do with me what you will. Take me, I am yours.' And removing her coat and her hat which she flung on to the sofa, she began feverishly unloosing the bodice of her dress, for, her condition deterioriating suddenly, as often happened in her illness, and with the blood rushing from her heart to her head, she was having difficulty breathing. There followed a bout of dry, hoarse coughing. 'Have my coachman told, ' she went on, 'to drive my carriage home.' I went down myself to dismiss the man. When I returned, Marguerite was lying in front of the fire, and her teeth were chattering with cold. I took her in my arms, undressed her where she lay without stirring, and carried her icy body to my bed. Then I sat by her side and tried to warm her with my caresses. She did not speak, but she smiled at me. Oh! How strange was the night that followed! The whole of Marguerite's life seemed to be concentrated in the kisses she lavished on me. I loved her so intensely that, in the transports of my loving frenzy, I wondered whether I should not kill her so that she would never belong to anyone else. A month of such loving, body and soul, would be enough to bury most people. Day found us both awake. Marguerite was ghastly pale. She did not utter a word. From time to time, large tears flowed from her eyes and halted on her cheeks where they glistened like diamonds. Her weary arms opened now and then to hold me fast to her, and then fell back lifelessly on to the bed. For a moment, I thought I could forget everything that had happened since the moment I had left Bougival, and I said to Marguerite: 'Would you like us to go away, to leave Paris?' 'No, no!' she said, near to panic, 'we should be too wretched. There's nothing I can do now to make you happy, but as long as I have breath in my body, I will be the slave of your every whim. Whatever time of day or night you want me, come to me: I shall be yours. But you mustn't go on trying to link your future with mine. You'd only be too unhappy, and you would make me very wretched. 'I'll keep my looks for a little while longer. Make the most of them, but don't ask any more of me.' When she had gone, I felt frightened by the loneliness to which she had abandoned me. Two hours after her departure, I was still sitting on the bed she had just left, staring at the pillow which bore the imprint of her head, and wondering what should become of me, torn as I was between love and jealousy. At five o'clock, without having any clear idea of what I would do when I got there, I went round to the rue d'Antin. It was Nanine who opened the door. 'Madame cannot see you now, ' she said, with some embarrassment. 'Why not?' 'Because Count de N is with her, and he doesn't want me to let anyone in.' 'Oh, of course, ' I stammered, 'I'd forgotten.' I returned home like a man drunk, and do you know what I did in that moment of jealous frenzy which lasted only long enough for the disgraceful action which I was about to commit, can you guess what I did? I told myself that this woman was making a fool of me, I pictured her locked in inviolable intimacies with the Count, repeating to him the same words she had said to me that night, and, taking a five hundred franc note, I sent it to her with this message: 'You left so quickly this morning that I forgot to pay you. The enclosed is your rate for a night.' Then, when the letter had gone, I went out as though to escape from the instant remorse which followed this unspeakable deed. I called on Olympe and I found her trying on dresses. When we were alone, she sang obscene songs for my amusement. She was the archetypal courtesan who has neither shame nor heart nor wit? or at least she appeared so to me, for perhaps another man had shared with her the idyll I had shared with Marguerite. She asked me for money. I gave it her. Then, free to go, I went home. Marguerite had not sent a reply. There is no point in my telling you in what state of agitation I spent the whole of the following day. At half past six, a messenger brought an envelope containing my letter and the five hundred franc note, but nothing else. 'Who gave you this?' I said to the man. 'A lady who was leaving on the Boulogne mail coach with her maid. She gave me orders not to bring it until the coach was clear of the depot.' I ran all the way to Marguerite's apartment. 'Madame left for England today at six o'clock, ' said the porter in answer to my question. There was nothing now to keep me in Paris, neither love nor hate. I was exhausted by the turmoil of these events. One of my friends was about to set off on a tour of the Middle East. I went to see my father and said I wished to go with him. My father gave me bills of exchange and letters of introduction, and a week or ten days later I boarded ship at Marseilles. It was at Alexandria, through an Embassy attache whom I had occasionally seen at Marguerite's, that I learnt about the poor girl's illness. It was then that I sent her the letter to which she wrote the reply you have read for yourself. I got it when I reached Toulon. I set out immediately and you know the rest. All that remains now is for you to read the papers which Julie Duprat kept for me. They are the necessary complement of the story I have just told you. 第二十四章 这已经够她受的了，但还不行。我知道我有力量控制这个女人，我卑鄙地滥用了这种力量。 如今我想到她已经死了，我自问天主是不是会原谅我给她所受的痛苦。 夜宵时热闹非凡，夜宵以后开始赌钱。 我坐在奥林普身旁，我下注的时候那么大胆，不能不引起她的注意。不一会儿，我就赢了一两百个路易，我把这些钱摊在我面前，她贪婪地注视着。 只有我一个人没有把全部注意力放在赌博上，而是在观察她。整个晚上我一直在赢钱，我拿钱给她赌，因为她已经把她面前的钱全都输光了，也许把她家里的钱也全都输光了。 清晨五点钟大家告辞了。 我赢了三百个路易。 所有的赌客都已经下楼，谁也没有发觉只有我一个人留在后面，因为那些客人里面没有一位是我的朋友。 奥林普亲自在楼梯上照亮，当我正要和大家一样下楼时，我转身向她走去对她说： “我要跟您谈谈。” “明天吧，”她说。 “不，现在。” “您要跟我谈什么呢？” “您就会知道的。” 我又回到了房间里。 “您输了，”我对她说。 “是的。” “您把家里的钱全都输光了吧。” 她迟疑着没有回答。 “说实话吧。” “好吧，真是这样。” “我赢了三百路易，全在这里，如果您愿意我留下来的话。” 同时我把金币扔在桌子上。 “您为什么提出这种要求？” “老天！因为我爱您呀。” “不是这么回事，因为您爱着玛格丽特，您是想做我的情人来报复她。我这样的女人是不会受欺骗的。遗憾的是我太年轻，太漂亮了，接受您要我扮演的角色是不合适的。” “这么说，您拒绝了？” “是的。” “难道您宁愿白白地爱我吗？那我是不会接受的。您想，亲爱的奥林普，我本来可以派一个人带着我的条件来代我送上这三百个路易，这样您可能会接受的。可是我还是喜欢和您当面谈。接受吧，别管我这样做的原因是什么；您说您长得漂亮，那么我爱上您也就不足为奇了。” 玛格丽特像奥林普一样是个妓女，但我在第一次看见她时决不敢对她说我刚才对这个女人说的话。这说明了我爱玛格丽特，这说明了我感到在玛格丽特身上有一些这个女人身上所缺少的东西。甚至就在我跟她谈这次交易的时候，尽管她长得千娇百媚，我还是非常讨厌这个和我谈生意的女人。 当然啦，她最后还是接受了。中午我从她家里出来时我已经是她的情人了。为了我给她的六千法郎，她认为不能不好好地和我说些情话，亲热一番；但是我一离开她的床，就把这一切抛在脑后去了。 然而也有人为了她而倾家荡产的。 从这一天起，我每时每刻都在虐待玛格丽特。奥林普和她不再见面了，原因您也可想而知。我送了一辆马车和一些首饰给我新结交的情妇。我赌钱，最后我就像一个爱上了奥林普这样一个女人的男人一样做了各种各样的荒唐事，我又有了新欢的消息很快就传开了。 普律当丝也上了当，她终于也相信我已经完全忘记了玛格丽特。对玛格丽特来说，要么她已经猜到了我这样做的动机，要么她和别人一样受骗了。她怀着高度的自尊心来对付我每天给她的侮辱。不过她看上去很痛苦，因为不论我在哪里遇到她，我看到她的脸色总是一次比一次苍白，一次比一次忧伤。我对她的爱情过于强烈以致变成了仇恨，看到她每天都这样痛苦，我心里很舒服。有几次在我卑鄙残酷地折磨她时，玛格丽特用她苦苦哀求的眼光望着我，以致我对自己扮演的那种角色感到脸红，我几乎要求她原谅我了。 但是这种内疚的心情转瞬即逝，而奥林普最后把自尊心全都撇在一边，她知道只要折磨玛格丽特就可以从我这里得到她需要的一切。她不断地挑唆我和玛格丽特为难，一有机会她就凌辱玛格丽特，像一个后面有男人撑腰的女人一样，她的手段总是非常卑劣的。 玛格丽特最后只能不再去参加舞会，也不去戏院看戏了，她害怕在那些地方遇到奥林普和我。这时候写匿名信就代替了当面挑衅，只要是见不得人的事，都往玛格丽特身上栽；让我情妇去散布，我自己也去散布。 只有疯子才会做出这些事情来，那时候我精神亢奋，就像一个灌饱了劣酒的醉汉一样，很可能手里在犯罪，脑子里还没有意识到。在于这一切事情的时候，我心里是非常痛苦的。面对我这些挑衅，玛格丽特的态度是安详而不轻蔑，尊严而不鄙视，这使我觉得她比我高尚，也促使我更加生她的气。 一天晚上，不知道奥林普在哪里碰到了玛格丽特，这一次玛格丽特没有放过这个侮辱她的蠢姑娘，一直到奥林普不得不让步才罢休。奥林普回来时怒气冲冲，玛格丽特则在昏厥中被抬了回去。 奥林普回来以后，对我诉说了刚才发生的事情，她对我说，玛格丽特看到她只有一个人就想报仇，因为她做了我的情妇。奥林普要我写信告诉她，以后不管我在不在场，她都应该尊敬我所爱的女人。 不用多说，我同意这样做了。我把所有我能找到的挖苦的、羞辱的和残忍的话一古脑儿全写在这封信里面，这封信我当天就寄到了她的家里。 这次打击太厉害了，这个不幸的女人不能再默默地忍受了。 我猜想一定会收到回信的。因此我决定整天不出门。 两点钟光景有人拉铃，我看到普律当丝进来了。 我试着装出一副若无其事的模样问她来找我有什么事。这天迪韦尔诺瓦太太可一丝笑容也没有，她用一种严肃而激动的声调对我说，自从我回到巴黎以后，也就是说将近三个星期以来，我没有放过一次机会不折磨玛格丽特，因此她生病了。昨天晚上那场风波和今天早晨我那封信使她躺倒在床上。 总之，玛格丽特并没有责备我，而是托人向我求情，说她精神上和肉体上再也忍受不了我对她的所作所为。 “戈蒂埃小姐把我从她家里赶走，”我对普律当丝说，“那是她的权利，但是她要侮辱一个我所爱的女人，还借口说这个女人是我的情妇，这我是绝对不能答应的。” “我的朋友，”普律当丝对我说，“您受了一个既无头脑又无心肝的姑娘的影响了；您爱她，这是真的，但这不能成为可以欺凌一个不能自卫的女人的理由呀。” “让戈蒂埃小姐把她的N伯爵给我打发走，我就算了。” “您很清楚她是不会这样干的。因此，亲爱的阿尔芒，您让她安静点吧。如果您看到她，您会因为您对待她的方式感到惭愧。她脸色苍白，她咳嗽，她的日子不长了。” 普律当丝伸手给我，又加了一句： “来看看她吧，您来看她，她会非常高兴的。” “我不愿碰到N先生。” “N先生决不会在她家里，她受不了他。” “倘使玛格丽特一定要见我，她知道我住在哪儿，让她来好啦，我是不会再到昂坦街去了。” “那您会好好接待她吗？” “一定招待周到。” “好吧，我可以肯定她会来的。” “让她来吧。” “今天您出去吗？” “整个晚上我都在家。” “我去对她说。” 普律当丝走了。 我甚至没有给奥林普写信，告诉她我不到她那里去了，对这个姑娘我是随随便便的。一星期我难得和她过上一夜。我相信她会从大街上随便哪一家戏院的男演员那儿得到安慰的。 我吃晚饭时出去了一下，几乎马上就赶了回来。我吩咐把所有的炉子都点上火，还把约瑟夫打发走了。 我无法把我等待着的那一个小时里的种种想法告诉您，我心情太激动了。当我在九点左右听到门铃声的时候，我百感交集，心乱如麻，以致去开门的时候，不得不扶着墙壁以防跌倒。 幸好会客室里光线暗淡，不容易看出我那变得很难看的脸色。 玛格丽特进来了。 她穿了一身黑衣服，还蒙着面纱，我几乎认不出她在面纱下的脸容。 她走进客厅，揭开了面纱。 她的脸像大理石一样惨白。 “我来了，阿尔芒，”她说，“您希望我来，我就来了。” 随后，她低下头，双手捂着脸痛哭起来。 我向她走去。 “您怎么啦？”我对她说，我的声音都变了。 她紧紧握住我的手，不回答我的话，因为她已经泣不成声。过了一会儿，她平静了一些，就对我说： “您害得我好苦，阿尔芒，而我却没有什么对不起您。” “没有什么对不起我吗？”我带着苦笑争辩说。 “除了环境逼得我不得不做的以外，我什么也没有做。” 我看到玛格丽特时心里所产生的感觉，不知道在您的一生中是否感受过，或者在将来是否会感受到。 上次她到我家里来的时候，她就是坐在她刚坐下的地方。只不过从此以后，她已成为别人的情妇；她的嘴唇不是被我，而是被别人吻过了，但我还是不由自主地把嘴唇凑了上去。我觉得我还是和以前一样爱着这个女人，可能比以前爱得还要热烈些。 然而我很难开口谈为什么叫她到这里来的理由，玛格丽特大概了解了我的意思，因为她接着又说： “我打扰您了，阿尔芒，因为我来求您两件事：原谅我昨天对奥林普小姐说的话；别再做您可能还要对我做的事，饶了我吧。不论您是不是有意的，从您回来以后，您给了我很多痛苦，我已经受不了啦，即使像我今天早晨所受的痛苦的四分之一，我也受不了啦！您会可怜我的，是不是？而且您也明白，像您这样一个好心肠的人，还有很多比对一个像我这样多愁多病的女人报复更加高尚的事要干呢。您摸摸我的手，我在发烧，我离开卧床不是为了来向您要求友谊，而是请您别再把我放在心上了。” 我拿起玛格丽特的手，她的手果然烧得烫人，这个可怜的女人裹在天鹅绒大衣里面，浑身哆嗦。 我把她坐着的扶手椅推到火炉边上。 “您以为我就不痛苦吗？”我接着说，“那天晚上我先在乡下等您，后来又到巴黎来找您，我在巴黎只是找到了那封几乎使我发疯的信。 “您怎么能欺骗我呢，玛格丽特，我以前是多么爱您啊！” “别谈这些了，阿尔芒，我不是来跟您谈这些的。我希望我们不要像仇人似的见面，仅此而已。我还要跟您再握一次手，您有了一位您喜欢的、年轻美貌的情妇，愿你俩幸福，把我忘了吧。” “那么您呢，您一定是幸福的啦？” “我的脸像一个幸福的女人吗？阿尔芒，别拿我的痛苦来开玩笑，您比谁都清楚我痛苦的原因和程度。” “如果您真像您所说的那样不幸，那么您要改变这种状况也取决于您自己呀。” “不，我的朋友，我的意志犟不过客观环境，您似乎是说我顺从了我做妓女的天性。不是的，我服从了一个严肃的需要，这些原因您总有一天会知道的，您也会因此原谅我。” “这些原因您为什么不在今天就告诉我呢？” “因为告诉了您这些原因也不可能使我们重归于好，也许还会使您疏远您不应该疏远的人。” “这些人是谁？” “我不能跟您说。” “那么您是在撒谎。” 玛格丽特站起身来，向门口走去。 当我在心里把这个形容枯槁、哭哭啼啼的女人和当初在喜剧歌剧院嘲笑我的姑娘作比较时，我不能看着她的沉默和痛苦的表情而无动于衷。 “您不能走，”我拦在门口说。 “为什么？” “因为，尽管您这样对待我，我一直是爱您的，我要您留在这里。” “为了在明天赶我走，是吗？不，这是不可能的！我们两个人的缘分已经完了，别再想破镜重圆了；否则您可能会轻视我，而现在您只是恨我。” “不，玛格丽特，”我嚷道，一面觉得一遇上这个女人，我所有的爱和欲望都复苏了，“不，我会把一切都忘记的，我们将像过去曾经相许过的那么幸福。” 玛格丽特疑惑地摇摇头，说道： “我不就是您的奴隶，您的狗吗？您愿意怎样就怎样吧，把我拿去吧，我是属于您的。” 她脱掉大衣，除下帽子，把它们全都扔在沙发上，突然她开始解连衣裙上衣的搭扣，由于她那种疾病的一种经常性的反应，血从心口涌上头部，使她透不过气来。 接着是一阵嘶哑的干咳。 “派人去关照我的车夫，”她接着说，“把车子驶回去。” 我亲自下楼把车夫打发走了。 当我回来的时候，玛格丽特躺在炉火前面，冷得牙齿格格直响。 我把她抱在怀里，替她脱衣服，她一动也不动，全身冰冷，我把她抱到了床上。 于是我坐在她身边，试着用我的爱抚来暖和她，她一句话也不跟我说，只是对我微笑着。 喔！这真是一个奇妙的夜晚，玛格丽特的生命几乎全部倾注在她给我的狂吻里面。我是这样地爱她，以致在我极度兴奋的爱情之中，我曾想到是不是杀了她，让她永远不会属于别人。 一个人的肉体和心灵都像这样地爱上一个月的话，就只能剩下一具躯壳了。 天亮了，我们两人都醒了。 玛格丽特脸色灰白。她一句话也不说，大颗的泪珠不时从眼眶里滚落在她的面颊上，像金刚钻似的闪闪发光，她疲乏无力的胳臂不住地张开来拥抱我，又无力地垂落到床上。 有一时我想我可以把离开布吉瓦尔以来的事统统忘记掉，我对玛格丽特说： “你愿不愿意跟我一起走？让我们一起离开巴黎。” “不，不，”她几乎带着恐惧地说，“我们以后会非常不幸的，我不能再为你的幸福效劳，但只要我还剩下一口气，你就可以把我随心所欲，不管白天或者黑夜，只要你需要我，你就来，我就属于你的，但是不要再把你的前途和我的前途连在一起，这样你会非常不幸，也会使我非常不幸。 “我眼下还算是一个漂亮姑娘，好好享用吧，但是别向我要求别的。” 在她走了以后，我感到寂寞孤单，非常害怕。她走了已有两个小时了，我还是坐在她适才离开的床上，凝视着床上的枕头，上面还留着她头形的皱褶，一面考虑着在我的爱情和嫉妒之间我将变成什么样子。 五点钟，我到昂坦街去了，我也不知道我要上那儿去干什么。 替我开门的是纳尼娜。 “夫人不能接待您，”她尴尬地对我说。 “为什么？” “因为N伯爵先生在这里，他不让我放任何人进去。” “是啊，”我结结巴巴地说，“我忘了。” 我像个醉汉似的回到了家里，您知道在我那嫉妒得发狂的一刹那间我干了什么？这一刹那就足够我做出一件可耻的事，您知道我干了什么？我心想这个女人在嘲笑我，我想象她在跟伯爵两人促膝谈心，对他重复着她昨天晚上对我讲过的那些话，还不让打扰他们。于是我拿起一张五百法郎的钞票，写了下面这张纸条一起给她送了去。 今天早晨您走得太匆忙了，我忘了付钱给您。这是您的过夜钱。 当这封信被送走以后，我就出去了，仿佛想逃避做了这件卑鄙的事情以后出现的一阵内疚。 我到奥林普家里去，我见到她在试穿衣服，当我们只剩下两个人时，她就唱些下流的歌曲给我散心。 这个女人完全是一个不知羞耻、没有心肝、没有头脑的妓女的典型，至少对我来说是这样，因为也许有别的男人会跟她一起做我跟玛格丽特一起做过的那种美梦。 她问我要钱，我给了她，于是就可以走了，我回到了自己家里。 玛格丽特没有给我回信。 不用跟您说第二天我是在怎样激动的心情下度过的。 六点半，一个当差给我送来了一封信，里面装着我那封信和那张五百法郎的钞票，此外一个字也没有。 “是谁把这封信交给您的？”我对那个人说。 “一位夫人，她和她的使女一起乘上了去布洛涅的驿车，她吩咐我等驿车驶出庭院之后再把信送给您。” 我跑到玛格丽特家里。 “太太今天六点钟动身到英国去了。”看门人对我说。 没有什么可以再把我留在巴黎了，既没有恨也没有爱。由于受到这一切冲击我已精疲力竭。我的一个朋友要到东方去旅行，我对父亲说我想陪他一起去；我父亲给了我一些汇票和介绍信。八九天以后，我在马赛上了船。 在亚历山大①，我从一个我曾在玛格丽特家里见过几面的大使馆随员那里，知道了这个可怜的姑娘的病况。 于是我写了一封信给她，她写给我一封回信，我是在土伦②收到的，您已经看到了。 ①亚历山大：埃及的一个重要港口。 ②土伦：法国地中海沿岸的一个城市。 我立刻就动身回来，以后的事您都知道了。 现在您只要读一下朱利?迪普拉交给我的那些日记就行了，这是我刚才对您讲的故事的不可缺少的补充。

Chapter 23 When I was something like myself once more, I could not believe that the new day which was dawning would not be exactly like all the days that had gone before. There were moments when I felt that some circumstance or other, which I could not remember, had obliged me to spend the night away from Marguerite, and that, if I returned to Bougival, I should find her waiting anxiously, just as I had waited, and she would ask me what had kept me from her. When your life has become so dependent on a habit as strong as our habit of loving, it hardly seems possible that the habit can be broken without also demolishing everything else which buttresses your life. And so, from time to time, I was driven to reread Marguerite's letter, to convince myself that I had not been dreaming. My body, giving way under the nervous shock, was incapable of any kind of movement. The worry, my walk through the night and the morning's revelations had exhausted me. My father took advantage of my state of total collapse to ask me for my strict promise that I would go away with him. I promised everything he asked. I was incapable of arguing, and stood in need of sincere affection to help me over what had happened. I was very glad that my father felt able to comfort me in my great sorrow. All I remember is that the same day, at about five o'clock, he put us both into a post-chaise. Without telling me, he had arranged for my trunks to be got ready and had them strapped along with his to the back of the carriage, and then he took me away with him. I became aware of what I was doing only when the city had dropped behind us, when the empty road reminded me of the emptiness in my heart. Then the tears got the better of me once more. My father had sensed that words alone, even his words, could not comfort me, and he let me cry without saying anything, content to pat my hand from time to time, as though to remind me that I had a friend at my side. That night, I slept a little. I dreamed of Marguerite. I woke with a start. I could not understand what I was doing in a carriage. Then reality returned, and I let my head fall on to my chest. I dared not talk to my father, for I was still afraid that he would say: 'You do see I was right when I told you that woman didn't love you, ' But he took no unfair advantage of the situation, and we reached C without his having spoken save of matters completely foreign to the events which had led to my departure. When I embraced my sister, I was reminded of the words in Marguerite's letter concerning her. But I saw at once that, however fine and good she was, my sister could never make me forget my mistress. The hunting season had begun, and my father thought that a spot of shooting might take my mind off things. So he organized hunting parties with neighbours and friends. I went along as unprotesting as I was unenthusiastic, in the mood of apathy which had characterized all my actions since my departure. We went out with beaters. I would be installed in my butt. Then I would put my unloaded gun beside me and let my mind wander. I watched the clouds pass over. I let my thoughts run wild over the deserted plains and, from time to time, would hear one of the hunters signalling that there was a hare not ten paces in front of me. None of this escaped my father's notice, and he refused to allow himself to be taken in by my outward calm. He was quite aware that, however unmanned my heart was now, it could provoke a terrible, perhaps even dangerous reaction at any time, and, going out of his way to avoid giving the impression that he was consoling me, he did his utmost to occupy my mind with other things. Of course, my sister had been told nothing of the events which had occurred. She thus found it difficult to under stand why I, who had always been so carefree, should suddenly have become so preoccupied and melancholy. Sometimes in my sadness, catching my father's anxious eye, I would reach out to him and grasp his hand as though to ask a silent pardon for the unhappiness which, despite myself, I was causing him. A month went by in this manner, but a month was all I could bear. The memory of Marguerite pursued me wherever I went. I had loved that woman? still loved her? too much for her suddenly to cease to mean anything to me. Whatever feelings I might have for her now, I had to see her again. At once. The longing to do so crept into my mind and took root there with all the force which the will displays when finally it reasserts itself in a body that has long remained inert. I needed Marguerite, not at some time in the future, not in a month nor a week from the moment the idea first entered my head, but before another day passed. I immediately went to my father and told him that I proposed to take my leave to attend to some matters which had called me back to Paris, but added that I would return promptly. He probably guessed the real reasons for my departure, because he insisted that I should stay. But, seeing that if my desires were thwarted, then in my present excitable state, the consequences might prove fatal to me, he embraced me and begged me, almost tearfully, to come back to him soon. I did not sleep all the way to Paris. What would I do when I got there? I had no idea. But the first thing was to attend to Marguerite. I went to my apartment to change and, as it was fine and still not too late in the day, I went to the Champs- Elysees. A half an hour later, in the distance, coming from the Rond-Point down to the Place de la Concorde, I saw Marguerite's carriage approaching. She had bought back her horses, for the carriage was just as it used to be. Only she was not in it. I had only just noticed that she was not inside when, looking round me, I saw Marguerite walking towards me in the company of a woman I had never seen before. As she passed quite close to me, she turned pale and her lips contracted into an uneasy smile. As for me, my heart beat so violently that it took my breath away. But I managed to give a cold expression to my face and a cold greeting to my former mistress, who went back to her carriage almost at once and got into it with her friend. I knew Marguerite. Meeting me so unexpectedly must have thrown her into a state of great confusion. In all likelihood, she had got to hear of my departure which had set her mind at rest as to the consequences of our sudden parting. But, seeing me back and coming face to face with me, pale as I was, she had sensed that my return had a purpose, and must have wondered what was going to happen. If, when I saw her again, Marguerite had been unhappy; if, in taking my revenge, there had also been some way of helping her ?then I might well have forgiven her, and would certainly never have dreamed of doing her any harm. But when I saw her again, she was happy, at least on the surface. Another man had restored her to the luxury in which I had been unable to keep her. Our estrangement, which she had initiated, accordingly acquired the stamp of the basest self- interest. I was humiliated both in my pride and my love: she was going to have to pay for what I had suffered. I could not remain indifferent to what she did now. It followed that the thing that would hurt her most would be precisely for me to show indifference. Indifference, therefore, was the sentiment which I now needed to feign, not only in her presence but in the eyes of others. I tried to put a smile on my face, and I went to call on Prudence. Her maid went in to announce me, and kept me waiting briefly in the drawing-room. Madame Duvernoy appeared at length and showed me into her parlour. As I was about to sit down, I heard the drawing-room door open and a light footfall made a floorboard creak. Then the door to the landing slammed shut. 'I'm not disturbing you?' I asked Prudence. 'Not in the least. Marguerite was with me. When she heard you being announced, she ran away. That was her just leaving.' 'So now I scare her?' 'No, but she's afraid you wouldn't relish seeing her again. 'Why ever not? 'I said, making an effort to breathe freely, for my emotions were choking me. 'The poor creature left me so that she could get her carriage and furniture and diamonds back. She was quite right, and it's not for me to bear grudges. I ran into her earlier on, ' I went on nonchalantly. 'Where?' said Prudence, who was staring at me and evidently wondering if this was the same man she had known so much in love. 'On the Champs-Elysees. She was with another, very attractive woman. Who would that be?' 'What's she look like? ''A blonde girl, slim. Had her hair in ringlets. Blue eyes, very fashionably dressed.' 'Ah! That's Olympe. Yes, she's a very pretty girl.' 'Who's she living with?' 'Nobody. Everybody.' 'And her address?' 'In the rue Tronchet, number...Well, I declare! You want to take up with her?' 'You never know what can happen.' 'And Marguerite?' 'I'd be lying if I told you that I never think of her any more. But I'm one of those men who set great store by the way an affair is ended. Now Marguerite gave me my marching orders in such an offhand sort of way, that I was left feeling I'd been rather silly to have fallen in love with her the way I did? for I really was in love with her. ' You can guess in what tone of voice I tried to say all this: the perspiration was pouring off my forehead. 'She loved you too, you know, and still does. You want proof? Well, after she met you today, she came straight round here to tell me all about it. When she got here, she was all of a tremble, almost ill she was.' 'And what did she tell you?' 'She said: "I expect he'll come to see you," and she begged me to ask you to forgive her.' 'I've forgiven her, you can tell her. She's a good girl, but she's a good- time girl, and I should have expected what she did to me. I'm grateful to her for making the break, because I wonder now where my idea that I could live exclusively with her would have got us. It was very silly.' 'She'll be very happy when she learns you took it like that when you saw she had no alternative. It was high time she left you, my dear. The rogue of a dealer she'd offered to sell her furniture to, had been to see her creditors to ask how much she owed them. They'd got cold feet and were planning to sell everything in another two days.' 'And now, it's all paid back?' 'Almost.' 'And who provided the money?' 'Count de N. Listen, dear, there are men who were put in this would for paying up. To cut a long story short, he came up with twenty thousand francs ?but he's got what he wanted. He knows Marguerite doesn't love him, but that doesn't prevent him being very nice to her. You saw for yourself that he's bought back her horses and redeemed her jewels, and he gives her as much money as the Duke used to. If she's prepared to settle for a quiet life, then this is one man who'll stay with her for a long time. ' 'And what does she do with herself? Does she stay in Paris all the time?' 'She's never once wanted to go back to Bougival since the day you left. It was me that went down to fetch all her things, and yours too: I've made a bundle of them that you can send round for. It's all there except for a little pocketbook with your monogram on it. Marguerite wanted to have it, and she's got it with her in the apartment. If you want it particularly, I could ask for it back.' 'She can keep it, ' I stammered, for I could feel tears welling up from my heart into my eyes at the memory of the village where I had been so happy, and at the thought that Marguerite should want to keep something that had been mine and reminded her of me. If she had come into the room at that moment, all my plans for revenge would have collapsed, and I would have fallen at her feet. 'Mind you, ' Prudence went on, 'I've never seen her the way she is at the minute. She hardly sleeps at all, goes to every ball, eats late suppers and even has too much to drink. Just recently, after a supper party, she was in bed for a week. And when the doctor allowed her up, she started where she'd left off, though she knows it could kill her. Are you going to see her?' 'What's the point? It was you I came to see, because you've always been extremely nice to me, and I knew you before I met Marguerite. It's you I have to thank for having been her lover, just as it's you I must thank for not being her lover any more. Am I right?' 'Well, yes. I did everything I could to make her give you up, and I do believe that, in time, you won't think too badly of me.' 'I owe you a double debt of gratitude, ' I added, getting to my feet, 'because I was getting sick of her when I saw how seriously she took everything I said: ' 'Are you going?' 'Yes.' I had heard enough. 'When shall we see you again?' 'Soon. Goodbye.' 'Goodbye.' Prudence saw me to the door, and I returned to my apartment with tears of rage in me eyes and a thirst for revenge in my heart. So Marguerite was really a whore like the rest of them. So this fathomless love she felt for me had not held out for long against her wish to revert to her old life, and her need to have a carriage and indulge her taste for orgies. This is what I kept telling myself when I could not sleep, whereas, if I had thought about it as coolly as I made out, I would have seen Marguerite's new, wild behaviour as her hope of silencing persistent thoughts and burying recurring memories. But, alas, I was ruled by sour resentments, and thought only of finding a way of tormenting the poor creature. Oh, how small, how vile is man when one of his petty passions is wounded! Olympe, the girl I had seen with Marguerite, was, if not a close friend, then at least the friend she had seen most of since returning to Paris. She was to throw a ball and, since I assumed Marguerite would be there, I set about getting myself an invitation, and got one. When I arrived, overflowing with painful emotions, the ball was already in full swing. People were dancing, there was a great deal of shouting and, during one of the quadrilles, I saw Marguerite dancing with Count de N who looked inordinately proud to be showing her off, as though he were declaring to the assembled company: 'This woman belongs to me!' I went and leaned against the mantelpiece, just across from Marguerite, and watched her dance. She grew flustered almost the moment she noticed me. I indicated that I had seen her, and acknowledged her perfunctorily with a wave of the hand and a look of recognition. When I thought that, after the ball, she would be leaving, not with me, but with that wealthy oaf, when I pictured what would very likely happen after they got back to her apartment, the blood rushed to my face and I felt a need to upset the course of true love. When the quadrille was over, I went over and said good evening to the hostess who, for the benefit of her guests, was displaying a dazzling pair of shoulders and much of her magnificent breasts. She was a beautiful girl, more beautiful, in terms of her figure, than Marguerite. This was brought home to me even more forcibly by certain glances which Marguerite cast towards Olympe as I was speaking to her. The man who became this woman's lover could be every bit as pleased with himself as Monsieur de N, and she was beautiful enough to start a passion the equal of the one which Marguerite had inspired in me. At that time, she had no lover. It would not be difficult to remedy that. The trick was having enough gold to fling about in order go get oneself noticed. My mind was made up. This woman would be my mistress. I took the first steps in my initiation by dancing with Olympe. Half an hour later, Marguerite, pale as death, put on her fur-lined cape and left the ball. 第二十三章 当生活中的一切重新走上轨的时候，我不能相信新来的一天对我来说跟过去的日子会有什么两样。有好几次我总以为发生了什么我已经记不起来的事情使我没有能在玛格丽特家里过夜，而如果我回布吉瓦尔的话，就会看到她像我一样焦急地等着我，她会问我是谁把我留住了，使她望眼欲穿。 当爱情成了生活中的一种习惯，再要想改变这种习惯而不同时损害生活中所有其他方面的联系，似乎是不可能的。 因此我不得不经常重读玛格丽特的信，好让自己确信不是在做梦。 由于精神上受到刺激，我的身体几乎已经垮了。心中的焦虑，夜来的奔波，早晨听到的消息，这一切已使我精疲力竭。我父亲趁我极度衰弱的时候要我明确地答应跟他一起离开巴黎。 他的要求我全部同意了，我没有力量来进行一场争论，在刚遭到那么些事情以后，我需要一种真挚的感情来帮助我活下去。 我父亲非常愿意来医治我所遭到的这种创伤，我感到十分幸福。 我能记得起来的就是那天五点钟光景，他让我跟他一起登上了一辆驿车。他叫人替我准备好行李，和他的行李捆在一起放在车子后面，一句话也没有跟我说就把我带走了。 我茫然若失。当城市消失在后面以后，旅程的寂寞又勾起了我心中的空虚。 这时候我的眼泪又涌上来了。 我父亲懂得，任何言语，即使是他说的也安慰不了我，他一句话也不跟我讲，随我去哭。只是有时候握一下我的手，似乎在提醒我有一个朋友在身边。 晚上我睡了一会儿，在梦里我见到了玛格丽特。 我突然惊醒了，弄不懂我怎么会坐在车子里面的。 随后我又想到了现实情况，我的头垂在胸前。 我不敢跟父亲交谈，总是怕他对我说：“我是不相信这个女人的爱情的，你看我说对了吧。” 他倒没有得理不让人，我们来到了C城，一路上他除了跟我讲些与我离开巴黎的原因毫不相干的话以外，别的什么也没有提。 当我抱吻我的妹妹时，我想起了玛格丽特信里提到的有关她的话。但是我立即懂得了无论我妹妹有多么好，她也不可能使我忘掉我的情妇。 狩猎季节开始了，我父亲认为这是给我解闷的好机会，因此他跟一些邻居和朋友组织了几次狩猎活动，我也参加了。我既不反对也无热情，一副漠不关心的神气，自从我离开巴黎以后，我的一切行动都是没精打采的。 我们进行围猎，他们叫我守在我的位置上，我卸掉了子弹把猎熗放在身旁，人却陷入了沉思。 我看着浮云掠过，听任我的思想在寂寞的原野上驰骋。我不时地听到有个猎人在叫我，向我指出离我十步远的地方有一只野兔。 所有这些细节都没有逃过我父亲的眼睛，他可没有因为我外表的平静而被蒙骗过去。他完全知道，不管我的心灵受了多大的打击，总有一天会产生一个可怕、还可能是危险的反作用，他一面尽量装得不像在安慰我，一面极力设法给我消愁解闷。 我妹妹当然不知道个中奥秘，但是她弄不懂为什么我这个一向是心情愉快开朗的人突然一下子会变得如此郁郁寡欢，心事重重。 有时候我正在黯然伤神，突然发现我父亲在忧心忡忡地瞅着我，我伸手过去握了握他的手，似乎在默默无言地要求他原谅我无法自主地给他带来的痛苦。 一个月就这样过去了，但我已经无法再忍受下去了。 玛格丽特的形象一直萦回在我的脑际，我过去和现在都深深地爱着这个女人，根本不可能一下子就把她丢在脑后，我要么爱她，要么就恨她，尤其是无论是爱她还是恨她，我必须再见到她，而且要立即见到她。 我心里一有了这个念头就牢牢地生了根，这种顽强的意志在我久无生气的躯体里面又重新出现了。 这并不是说我想在将来，在一个月以后或者在一个星期以后再看到玛格丽特，而是在我有了这个念头的第二天我就要看到她；我跟父亲讲我要离开他，巴黎有些事等着我去办理，不过我很快就会回来的。 他一定猜到了我要去巴黎的原因，因为他坚持不让我走；但是看到我当时满腔怒火，如果实现不了这个愿望可能会产生灾难性的后果。他抱吻了我，几乎流着眼泪要求我尽快地回到他的身边。 在到达巴黎之前，我根本没有睡过觉。 巴黎到了，我要干些什么呢？我不知道，首先当然是要看看玛格丽特怎么样了。 我到家里换好衣服，因为那天天气很好，时间还来得及，我就到了香榭丽舍大街。 半个小时以后，我远远地看到了玛格丽特的车子从圆形广场向协和广场驶来。 她的马匹已经赎回来了，车子还是老样子，不过车上却没有她。 一看到她不在马车里，我就向四周扫了一眼，看到玛格丽特正由一个我过去从未见过的女人陪着徒步走来。 在经过我身旁的时候，她脸色发白，嘴唇抽了一下，浮现出一种痉挛性的微笑。而我呢，我的心剧烈地跳动，冲击着我的胸膛，但是我总算还保持了冷静的脸色，淡漠地向我过去的情妇弯了弯腰，她几乎立即就向马车走去，和她的女朋友一起坐了上去。 我了解玛格丽特，这次不期而遇一定使她惊慌失措。她一定晓得我已经离开了巴黎，因此她对我们关系破裂之后会发生些什么后果放下了心。但是她看到我重新回来，而且劈面相逢，我脸色又是那么苍白，她一定知道我这次回来是有意图的，她一定在猜想以后会发生些什么事情。 如果我看到玛格丽特日子不怎么好过，如果我可以给她一些帮助来满足我的报复心理，我可能会原谅她，一定不会再想给她什么苦头吃。但是我看到她很幸福，至少表面上看来是这样，别人已经取代了我供应她那种我不能继续供应的奢侈生活。我们之间关系的破裂是她一手造成，因此带有卑鄙的性质，我的自尊心和我的爱情都受到了侮辱，她必须为我受到的痛苦付出代价。 我不能对这个女人的所作所为淡然处之；而最能使她感到痛苦的，也许莫过于我的无动于衷；不但在她眼前，而且在其他人眼前，我都必须装得若无其事。 我试着装出一副笑脸，跑到了普律当丝家里。 她的女用人进去通报我来了，并要我在客厅里稍候片刻。 迪韦尔诺瓦太太终于出现了，把我带到她的小会客室里；当我坐下的时候，只听到客厅里开门的声音，地板上响起了一阵轻微的脚步声，随后楼梯平台的门重重地关上了。 “我打扰您了吗？”我问普律当丝。 “没有的事，玛格丽特刚才在这儿，她一听到通报是您来了，她就逃了，刚才出去的就是她。” “这么说，现在她怕我了？” “不是的，她是怕您见到她会觉得讨厌。” “那又为什么呢？”我紧张得透不过气来。我竭力使呼吸自然一些，接着又漫不经心地说，“这个可怜的姑娘为了重新得到她的车子、她的家具和她的钻石而离开了我，她这样做很对，我不应该责怪她，今天我已经看到过她了。” “在哪里？”普律当丝说，她打量着我，似乎在揣摩我这个人是不是就是她过去认识的那个多情种子。 “在香榭丽舍大街，她跟另外一个非常漂亮的女人在一起。那个女人是谁啊？” “什么模样的？” “一头鬈曲的金黄色头发，身材苗条，蔚蓝色的眼睛，长得非常漂亮。” “啊，这是奥林普，的确是一个非常漂亮的姑娘。” “她现在有主吗？” “没有准主儿。” “她住在哪里？” “特隆歇街……号，啊，原来如此，您想打她的主意吗？” “将来的事谁也不知道。” “那么玛格丽特呢？” “要说我一点也不想念她，那是撒谎。但是我这个人非常讲究分手的方式，玛格丽特那么随随便便地就把我打发了，这使我觉得我过去对她那么多情是太傻了，因为我以前的确非常爱这个姑娘。” 您猜得出我是用什么样的声调来说这些话的，我的额上沁出了汗珠。 “她是非常爱您的，嗳，她一直是爱您的。她今天遇到您以后马上就来告诉我，这就是证据。她来的时候浑身发抖，像在生病一样。” “那么她对您说什么了？” “她对我说，‘他一定会来看您的，’她托我转达，请您原谅她。” “您可以对她这样说，我已经原谅她了。她是一个好心肠的妓女，但只不过是一个妓女；她这样对待我，我本来是早该预料到的，我甚至还感谢她有这样的决心。因为今天我还在自问我那种要跟她永不分离的想法会有什么后果。那时候我简直荒唐。” “如果她知道您已和她一样认为必须这么做，她一定会十分高兴。亲爱的，她当时离开您正是时候。她曾经提过要把她的家具卖给他的那个混蛋经纪人，已经找到了她的债主，问他们玛格丽特到底欠了他们多少钱；这些人害怕了，准备过两天就进行拍卖。” “那么现在呢，都还清了吗？” “差不多还清了。” “是谁出的钱？” “N伯爵，啊！我亲爱的！有些男人是专门干这事的。一句话，他给了两万法郎；但他也终于达到目的了。他很清楚玛格丽特并不爱他，他却并不因此而亏待她。您已经看到了，他把她的马买了回来，把她的首饰也赎回来了，他给她的钱跟公爵给她的一样多；如果她想安安静静地过日子，这个人倒不是朝三暮四的。” “她在干些什么呢？她一直住在巴黎吗？” “自从您走了以后，她怎么也不愿意回布吉瓦尔。所有她那些东西还是我到那儿去收拾的，甚至还有您的东西，我把它们另外包了一个小包，回头您可以叫人到这儿来取。您的东西全在里面，除了一只小皮夹子，上面有您名字的起首字母。玛格丽特要它，把它拿走了，现在在她家里，假使您一定要的话，我再去向她要回来。” “让她留着吧，”我讷讷地说，因为在想到这个我曾经如此幸福地待过的村子，想到玛格丽特一定要留下一件我的东西作纪念，我不禁感到一阵心酸，眼泪直往外冒。 如果她在这个时候进来的话，我可能会跪倒在她脚下的。 我那复仇的决心也许会烟消云散。 “此外，”普律当丝又说，“我从来也没有看到她像现在这副模样，她几乎不再睡觉了，她到处去跳舞，吃夜宵，有时候甚至还喝得醉醺醺的。最近一次夜宵后，她在床上躺了一个星期，医生刚允许她起床，她又不要命地重新开始这样的生活，您想去看看她吗？” “有什么必要呢？我是来看您的，您，因为您对我一直很亲切，我认识您比认识玛格丽特早。就是亏了您，我才做了她的情人；也就是亏了您，我才不再做她的情人了，是不是这样？” “啊，天哪，我尽了一切可能让她离开您，我想您将来就不会埋怨我了。” “这样我得加倍感激您了，”我站起来又接着说，“因为我讨厌这个女人，她把我对她说的话太当真了。” “您要走了吗？” “是的。” 我已经了解得够多了。 “什么时候再能见到您？” “不久就会见面的，再见。” “再见。” 普律当丝一直把我送到门口，我回到家里，眼里含着愤怒的泪水，胸中怀着复仇的渴望。 这样说来玛格丽特真的像别的姑娘一样啦；她过去对我的真挚爱情还是敌不过她对昔日那种生活的欲望，敌不过对车马和欢宴的需要。 晚上我睡不着，我就这么想着。如果我真能像我装出来的那么冷静，平心静气地想一想，我可能会在玛格丽特这种新的火热的生活方式里看出她在希望以此来摆脱一个纠缠不休的念头，消除一个难以磨灭的回忆。 不幸的是那股邪恶的激情一直纠缠着我，我一门心思想找一个折磨这个可怜的女人的方法。 喔！男人在他那狭隘的欲望受到伤害时，变得有多么渺小和卑鄙啊！ 我见到过的那个跟玛格丽特在一起的奥林普，如果不是玛格丽特的女朋友的话，至少也是她回到巴黎以后来往最密切的人。奥林普正要举行一次舞会，我料到玛格丽特也会去参加，我就设法去弄到了一张请帖。 当我怀着痛苦的心情来到舞会时，舞会上已相当热闹了。大家跳着舞，甚至还大声叫喊。在一次四组舞里，我看见玛格丽特在跟N伯爵跳舞，N伯爵对自己能炫耀这样一位舞伴显得很神气，他似乎在跟大家说： “这个女人是我的。” 我背靠在壁炉上，正好面对着玛格丽特，我看着她跳舞。她一看见我就不知所措，我看看她，随随便便地用手和眼睛向她打了个招呼。 当我想到在舞会结束以后，陪她走的不再是我而是这个有钱的笨蛋时；当我想到在他们回到她家里以后可能要发生的事情时，血涌上了我的脸，我要破坏他们的爱情。 女主人美丽的肩膀和半裸着的迷人的胸脯展现在全体宾客的面前，在四组舞以后，我走过去向她致意。 这个姑娘很美，从身材来看比玛格丽特还要美些。当我跟奥林普讲话的时候，从玛格丽特向她投过来的那些眼光更使我明白了这一点。一个男人做了这个女人的情人就可以和N先生感到同样的骄傲，而且她的姿色也足以引起玛格丽特过去在我身上引起过的同样的情欲。 她这时候没有情人。要做她的情人并不难，只要有钱摆阔，引她注意就行了。 我下决心要使这个女人成为我的情妇。 我一边和奥林普跳舞，一边开始扮演起追求者的角色。 半个小时以后，玛格丽特脸色苍白得像死人一样，她穿上皮大衣，离开了舞会。

Chapter 22 I FELT that the train was hardly moving. I reached Bougival at eleven. Not one window in the house was lit. I rang, but no one answered. It was the first time anything like this had happened. At length, the gardener appeared I entered the house. Nanine met me with a light. I reached Marguerite's room. 'Where is your mistress?' 'Madame has gone to Paris, ' Nanine answered. 'Paris!' 'Yes, sir.' 'When?' 'An hour after you.' 'Did she leave anything for you to give me?' 'Nothing.' Nanine left me. 'It's quite likely she was afraid, ' I thought, 'and went to Paris to see for herself whether the visit I'd said I was going to make to my father's wasn't just an excuse for having a day away from her. 'Perhaps Prudence wrote to her about something important, ' I said to myself when I was alone. 'But I saw Prudence as soon as I got there, and she didn't say anything to make me suppose that she'd written to Marguerite.' Suddenly, I recalled the question Madame Duvernoy had asked me: 'So she's not coming today?' when I had told her Marguerite was ill. Simultaneously, I remembered Prudence's embarrassed reaction when I'd stared at her after hearing her words, which had seemed to hint at a secret rendezvous. To this was added my recollection of the tears Marguerite had wept all that day which had been pushed into the back of my mind by my father's warm welcome. From this moment on, all of the day's events began to congregate around my original suspicion and rooted it so firmly in my thoughts that everything seemed to confirm it, even my father's leniency. Marguerite had virtually insisted that I should go to Paris. She had pretended to be calm when I suggested I should stay by her side. Had I fallen into a trap? Was Marguerite deceiving me? Had she counted on getting back in sufficiently good time for me to remain unaware of her absence, and had some chance occurrence detained her? Why had she not said anything to Nanine, or why had she not left me a note? What was the meaning of the tears, her absence, this whole mystery? Such were the questions which, with some trepidation, I put to myself as I stood in that empty bedroom, with my eyes fixed on the clock which, striking midnight, seemed to be telling me that it was too late now for me to hope to see my mistress return. And yet, after the plans we had made, after the sacrifice which had been offered and accepted, was it likely she should be unfaithful? No. I made a conscious effort to dismiss my initial assumptions. 'The poor girl has probably found a buyer for her furniture and has gone to Paris to finalize the details. She didn't want to tell me beforehand because she knows that, though I may have agreed to her selling everything, for our future happiness depends on it, I don't like the idea at all. She was afraid she'd wound my pride and my scruples if she mentioned it. She'd much prefer to turn up again when everything is settled. It's obvious that Prudence was expecting her in connection with all this, and she gave herself away to me. Marguerite won't have been able to conclude her business today and is spending the night in her apartment, or perhaps she'll be here any minute, for she must have some idea of how anxious I am and certainly won't want to leave me to worry. 'But if that's the way of it, why the tears? She loves me of course, but I expect the poor girl couldn't help crying at the thought of giving up the luxury she's lived in up to now, for it made her happy and envied.' I readily forgave Marguerite her regrets. I waited impatiently for her to come so that I could tell her, as I smothered her in kisses, that I had guessed the reason for her mysterious absence. But the night wore on and still Marguerite did not come. Imperceptibly, my anxiety tightened its hold, and gripped both my mind and my heart. Perhaps something had happened to her! Perhaps she was lying injured or ill or dead! Perhaps I would see a messenger arrive with news of some terrible accident! Perhaps the new day would find me still plunged in the same uncertainties, the same fears! The thought that Marguerite was being unfaithful to me even as I waited in the midst of the terrors unleashed by her absence, no longer entered my head. There had to be some good reason, independent of her will, to keep her far from me, and the more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that this reason could only be some misfortune or other. Oh, the pride of man assumes protean shapes! It had just struck one. I told myself I would wait another hour and then, if Marguerite were not back by two o'clock, I would leave for Paris. To while away the time, I looked for a book, for I dared not let myself think. Manon Lescaut lay open on the table. It appeared to me that here and there the pages were damp, as though tears had been shed over them. After skimming through the volume, I closed it: the print made no sense through the veil of my doubts. Time passed slowly. The sky was overcast. Autumn rain lashed the windows. At times, the empty bed seemed, I thought, to resemble a grave. I felt afraid. I opened the door. I listened, but heard nothing save the sound of the wind in the trees. No carriage rattled by on the road outside. Half past struck lugubriously from the church tower. I had reached the point where I was afraid that someone would come. I felt that only misfortune would come seeking me out at such an hour and in such dismal weather. It struck two. I waited a little longer. Only the regular, rhythmic ticking of the clock disturbed the silence. At length, I left the room. Even the most trivial object in it had assumed that air of gloom which an anxious and lonely heart lends to everything around it. In the next room, I found Nanine asleep over her needle work. The creaking of the door woke her, and she asked me if her mistress had returned. 'No, but if she does, you will say that I couldn't stand the worry and that I've gone to Paris.' 'At this time of night?' 'Yes.' 'But how will you get there? You won't find a carriage now.' 'I'll walk.' 'But it's raining.' 'So?' 'Madame will be back, or if she's not, there'll still be time in the morning to go and see what's kept her. You'll get yourself murdered on the way.' 'There's no danger of that, my dear Nanine. I'll see you tomorrow.' She was a good girl and went to get my coat. She helped me on with it, offered to run round and wake the widow Arnould to enquire whether it would be possible to order a carriage. But I said no. I was certain that her efforts, which might in any case come to nothing, would waste more time than it would take for me to get half way there. Besides, I needed air, needed to tire myself physically as a way of working off the agitation which gripped me. I took the key to the apartment in the rue d'Antin and, saying goodbye to Nanine who came with me as far as the gates, I left. At first, I set off at a run, but the ground was wet with the recent rain, and I tired quickly. After running for half an hour, I was forced to stop. I was bathed in perspiration. I recovered my breath and went on. The night was so dark that I went in constant fear of colliding with one of the trees lining the road which, as they loomed up unexpectedly, looked like enormous ghosts bearing down on me. I encountered one or two waggoner's carts, but soon left them behind. A barouche passed making for Bougival at a fast trot. As it drew level with me, my hopes rose that Marguerite was inside. I stopped and shouted: 'Marguerite! Marguerite!' But no one answered and the barouche continued on its way. I watched it go, and then set off again. It took me two hours to get to the Barriere de l'Etoile. The sight of Paris revived me, and I ran down the long avenue which I had walked along so often. That night, no one was walking along it. It was like an avenue in a dead city. Day was just beginning to break. When I reached the rue d'Antin, the great city was already beginning to stir before waking. The clock of the church of Saint- Roch was striking five when I entered the building where Marguerite lived. I flung my name at the porter, who had got enough twenty-franc tips out of me to know I was quite entitled to call on Mademoiselle Gautier at five in the morning. In this way, I got past him unimpeded. I could have asked him if Marguerite was at home. But he might have replied that she wasn't, and I preferred to keep my doubts for another two minutes. While there was doubt there was hope. I listened at her door, trying to detect a sound or a movement. But there was nothing. The silence of the country seemed to extend as far as here. I unlocked the door and went inside. All the curtains were tightly closed. I drew back those in the dining- room and made for the bedroom. I pushed the door open. I leaped on the curtain cord and pulled it savagely. The curtains opened. A faint glimmer of light pierced the gloom and I ran over to the bed. It was empty! I opened all the doors one after another. I looked in all the rooms. There was no one there. I thought I would go out of my mind. I went into the dressing-room, opened the window and called several times to Prudence. Madame Duvernoy's window remained shut. Then I went down to the porter's lodge and asked him if Mademoiselle Gautier had been to her apartment the previous day. 'Yes, ' the man said, 'with Madame Duvernoy.' 'She left no word for me?' 'No.' 'Do you know what they did afterwards?' 'They got into a carriage.' 'What sort of carriage?' 'A gentleman's brougham.' What could it all mean? I rang at the house next door. 'Who are you wanting, sir?' the porter asked as he opened the door to me. 'Madame Duvernoy.' 'She's not back.' 'Are you sure?' 'Yes, sir. There's even a letter that was delivered yesterday evening that I haven't had chance to give her.' And the man showed me a letter at which I glanced mechanically. I recognized Marguerite's handwriting. I took the letter. It was addressed like this: 'To Madame Duvernoy, to be given to Monsieur Duval.' 'This letter is for me, ' I told the porter, and I showed him the address. 'Are you Monsieur Duval?' the man answered. 'Yes.' 'Now I recognize you. You often come here to see Madame Duvernoy.' As soon as I was in the street, I broke open the seal on the letter. Had lightning struck at my feet, I would not have been more appalled than by what I read. 'By the time you read this, Armand, I shall be another man's mistress. Consequently, all is finished between us. Go back to your father, my dear. Go and see your sister. She's a pure young woman who knows nothing of all our miseries. With her, you will very quickly forget what you have suffered at the hands of a fallen creature named Marguerite Gautier who, for an instant, you truly loved and who stands in your debt for the only happy moments in her life which, she hopes, will not last much longer.' When I reached the end, I thought I was going out of my mind. For a moment, I was genuinely afraid that I would collapse on to the cobbles of the street. My eyes clouded over and the blood pulsated in my temples. After a while, I recovered something of my composure and looked around me in astonishment as I saw other people going about their lives without pausing over my unhappiness. I was not strong enough by myself to bear the blow which Marguerite had dealt me. Then I recalled that my father was there in the same city as myself, that I could be with him in ten minutes and that, whatever the reason for my sorrows, he would share them. I ran like a madman, like a thief, all the way to the Hotel de Paris. The key was in the door of my father's apartment. I let myself in. He was reading. Judging by the small show of surprise which he displayed when he saw me, you might have thought that he had been expecting me. I flung myself into his arms without a word, gave him Marguerite's letter and, sliding to the floor at his bedside, wept long, bitter tears. 第二十二章 我觉得火车开得太慢，仿佛不在走一样。 十一点钟我到了布吉瓦尔。 那座房子所有的窗户都没有亮光，我拉铃，没有人回答。 这样的事我还是第一次遇到。后来总算园丁出来了，我走了进去。 纳尼娜拿着灯向我走来。我走进了玛格丽特的卧室。 “太太呢？” “太太到巴黎去了，”纳尼娜回答我说。 “到巴黎去了？” “是的，先生。” “什么时候去的？” “您走后一个小时。” “她没有什么东西留给我吗？” “没有。” 纳尼娜离开我走了。 “她可能有什么疑虑，”我想，“也许是到巴黎去证实我对她说的去看父亲的事究竟是不是一个借口，为的是得到一天自由。 “或者是普律当丝有什么重要事情写信给她了，”当剩下我一个人的时候我心里想：“但是在我去巴黎的时候已经见到过普律当丝，在她跟我的谈话里面我一点也听不出她曾给玛格丽特写过信。” 突然我想起了当我对迪韦尔诺瓦太太说玛格丽特不舒服时，她问了我一句话：“那么她今天不来了吗？”这句话似乎泄露了她们有约会，同时我又想起了在她讲完这句话我望她的时候，她的神色很尴尬。我又回忆起玛格丽特整天眼泪汪汪，后来因为我父亲接待我很殷勤，我就把这些事给忘了。 想到这里，这天发生的一切事情都围绕着我的第一个怀疑打转，使我的疑心越来越重。所有一切，一直到父亲对我的慈祥态度都证实了我的怀疑。 玛格丽特几乎是逼着我到巴黎去的，我一提出要留在她身边，她就假装平静下来。我是不是落入了圈套？玛格丽特是在欺骗我吗？她是不是本来打算要及时回来，不让我发现她曾经离开过，但由于发生了意外的事把她拖住了呢？为什么她什么也没对纳尼娜说，又不给我写几个字呢？这些眼泪，她的出走，这些神秘莫测的事究竟是什么意思呢？ 在这个空荡荡的房间里面，我惶惶不安地想着以上这些问题。我眼睛盯着墙上的时钟，时针已指着半夜，似乎在告诉我，要想再见到我的情妇回来，时间已经太晚了。 然而，不久前我们还对今后的生活作了安排；她作出了牺牲，我也接受了。难道她真的在欺骗我吗？不会的。我竭力要丢开我刚才的那些设想。 也许这个可怜的姑娘为她的家具找到了一个买主，她到巴黎接洽去了。这件事她不想让我事前知道，因为她知道，尽管这次拍卖对于我们今后的幸福十分必要，而且我也同意了，但这对我来说总是很难堪的。她怕在向我谈这件事时会伤了我的自尊心，损害我的感情。她宁愿等一切都办妥了再跟我见面。显而易见，普律当丝就是为了这件事在等她，而且在我面前泄漏了真相。玛格丽特今天大概还不能办完这次交易，她睡在普律当丝家里，也许她一会儿就要回来了，因为她应该想到我在担忧，肯定不会把我就这样丢在这里的。 但是她为什么要流泪呢？无疑是不管她怎样爱我，这个可怜的姑娘要放弃这种奢侈生活，到底还是舍不得的。她已经过惯了这种生活，并且觉得很幸福，别人也很羡慕她。 我非常体谅玛格丽特这种留恋不舍的心情。我焦急地等着她回来，我要好好地吻吻她，并对她说，我已经猜到了她神秘地出走的原因。 然而，夜深了，玛格丽特仍旧没有回来。 我越来越感到焦虑不安，心里紧张得很。她会不会出了什么事！她是不是受伤了，病了，死了！也许我马上就要看见一个信差来通知我什么噩耗，也许一直到天亮，我仍将陷在这同样的疑惑和忧虑之中。 玛格丽特的出走使我惊慌失措，我提心吊胆地等着她，她是否会欺骗我呢？这种想法我一直没再有过。一定是有一种她作不了主的原因把她拖住了，使她不能到我这里来。我越是想，越是相信这个原因只能是某种灾祸。啊，人类的虚荣心呵！你的表现形式真是多种多样啊。 一点钟刚刚敲过，我心里想我再等她一个小时，倘使到了两点钟玛格丽特还不回来，我就动身到巴黎去。 在等待的时候，我找了一本书看，因为我不敢多想。 《玛侬?莱斯科》翻开在桌子上，我觉得书页上有好些地方似乎被泪水沾湿了。在翻看了一会以后，我把书又合上了。 由于我疑虑重重，书上的字母对我来说似乎毫无意义。 时间慢慢在流逝，天空布满了乌云，一阵秋雨抽打着玻璃窗，有时空荡荡的床铺看上去犹如一座坟墓，我害怕起来了。 我打开门，侧耳静听，除了树林里簌簌的风声以外什么也听不见。路上车辆绝迹，教堂的钟凄凉地在敲半点钟。 我倒反而怕有人来了，我觉得在这种时刻，在这种阴沉的天气，要有什么事情来找我的话，也决不会是好事。 两点钟敲过了，我稍等了一会儿，唯有那墙上时钟的单调的滴答声打破寂静的气氛。 最后我离开了这个房间，由于内心的孤独和不安，在我看来这个房间里连最小的物件也都蒙上了一层愁云。 在隔壁房间里我看到纳尼娜扑在她的活计上面睡着了。听到门响的声音，她惊醒了，问我是不是她的女主人回来了。 “不是的，不过如果她回来，您就对她说我实在放心不下，到巴黎去了。” “现在去吗？” “是的。” “可怎么去呢，车子也叫不到了。” “我走着去。” “可是天下着雨哪！” “那有什么关系？” “太太要回来的，再说即使她不回来，等天亮以后再去看她是让什么事拖住了也不迟啊。您这样在路上走会被人谋害的。” “没有危险的，我亲爱的纳尼娜，明天见。” 这位忠厚的姑娘把我的大衣找来，披在我肩上，劝我去叫醒阿尔努大娘，向她打听能不能找到一辆车子；但是我不让她去叫她，深信这是白费力气，而且这样一折腾所费的时间比我赶一半路的时间还要长。 再说我正需要新鲜的空气和肉体上的疲劳。这种肉体上的劳累可以缓和一下我现在的过度紧张的心情。 我拿了昂坦街上那所房子的钥匙，纳尼娜一直陪我到铁栅栏门口，我向她告别后就走了。 起初我是在跑步，因为地上刚被雨淋湿，泥泞难行，我觉得分外疲劳。这样跑了半个小时后，我浑身都湿透了，我不得不停了下来。我歇了一会儿又继续赶路，夜黑得伸手不见五指，我每时每刻都怕撞到路旁的树上去，这些树突然之间呈现在我眼前，活像一些向我直奔而来的高大的魔鬼。 我碰到一二辆货车，很快我就把它们甩到后面去了。 一辆四轮马车向布吉瓦尔方向疾驰而来，在它经过我面前的时候，我心头突然出现一个希望：玛格丽特就在这辆马车上。 我停下来叫道：“玛格丽特！玛格丽特！” 但是没有人回答我，马车继续赶它的路，我望着它渐渐远去，我又接着往前走。 我走了两个小时，到了星形广场①的栅栏门。 ①星形广场：凯旋门四周的广场。 看到巴黎我又有了力量，我沿着那条走过无数次的长长的坡道跑了下去。 那天晚上路上连个行人也没有。 我仿佛在一个死去的城市里散步。 天色渐渐亮了。 在我抵达昂坦街的时候，这座大城市已经在蠕蠕而动，即将苏醒了。 当我走进玛格丽特家里时，圣罗克教堂的大钟正敲五点。 我把我的名字告诉了看门人，他以前拿过我好些每枚值二十法郎的金币，知道我有权在清晨五点钟到戈蒂埃小姐的家中去。 因此我顺利地进去了。 我原来可以问他玛格丽特是不是在家，但是他很可能给我一个否定的答复，而我宁愿多猜疑上几分钟，因为在猜疑的时候总还是存在一线希望。 我把耳朵贴在门上，想听出一点声音，听出一点动静来。 什么声音也没有，静得似乎跟在乡下一样。 我开门走了进去。 所有的窗帘都掩得严严实实的。 我把餐室的窗帘拉开，向卧室走去，推开卧室的门。我跳到窗帘绳跟前，使劲一拉。 窗帘拉开了，一抹淡淡的日光射了进来，我冲向卧床。 床是空的！ 我把门一扇一扇地打开，察看了所有的房间。 一个人也没有。 我几乎要发疯了。 我走进梳妆间，推开窗户连声呼唤普律当丝。 迪韦尔诺瓦太太的窗户一直关闭着。 于是我下楼去问看门人，我问他戈蒂埃小姐白天是不是来过。 “来过的，”这个人回答我说，“跟迪韦尔诺瓦太太一起来的。” “她没有留下什么话给我吗？” “没有。” “您知道她们后来干什么去了？” “她们又乘马车走了。” “什么样子的马车。” “一辆私人四轮轿式马车。” 这一切到底是怎么回事呢？ 我拉了拉隔壁房子的门铃。 “您找哪一家，先生？”看门人把门打开后问我。 “到迪韦尔诺瓦太太家里去。” “她还没有回来。” “您能肯定吗？” “能，先生，这里还有她一封信，是昨天晚上送来的，我还没有交给她呢。” 看门人把一封信拿给我看，我机械地向那封信瞥了一眼。 我认出了这是玛格丽特的笔迹。 我拿过信来。 信封上写着： 烦请迪韦尔诺瓦夫人转交迪瓦尔先生。 “这封信是给我的，”我对看门人说，我把信封上的字指给他看。 “您就是迪瓦尔先生吗？”这个人问我。 “是的。” “啊！我认识您，您经常到迪韦尔诺瓦太太家来的。” 一到街上，我就打开了这封信。 即使在我脚下响起了一个霹雷也不会比读到这封信更使我觉得惊恐的了。 在您读到这封信的时候，阿尔芒，我已经是别人的情妇了，我们之间一切都完了。 回到您父亲跟前去，我的朋友，再去看看您的妹妹，她是一个纯洁的姑娘，她不懂得我们这些人的苦难。在您妹妹的身旁，您很快就会忘记那个被人叫做玛格丽特?戈蒂埃的堕落的姑娘让您受到的痛苦。她曾经一度享受过您的爱情，这个姑娘一生中仅有的幸福时刻就是您给她的，她现在希望她的生命早点结束。 当我念到最后一句话时，我觉得我快要神经错乱了。 有一忽儿我真怕要倒在街上了。我眼前一片云雾，热血在我太阳穴里突突地跳动。 后来我稍许清醒了一些，我环视着周围，看到别人并不关心我的不幸，他们还是照常生活，我真奇怪透了。 我一个人可承受不了玛格丽特给我的打击。 于是我想到了我父亲正与我在同一个城市，十分钟后我就可以到他身边了，而且他会分担我的痛苦，不管这种痛苦是什么原因造成的。 我像个疯子、像个小偷似的奔跑着，一直跑到巴黎旅馆，看见我父亲的房门上插着钥匙，我开门走了进去。 他在看书。 看到我出现在他面前，他并不怎么惊奇，仿佛正在等着我似的。 我一句话也不说就倒在他怀抱里，我把玛格丽特的信递给他，听任自己跌倒在他的床前，我热泪纵横地嚎啕大哭起来。

Chapter 21 'AT last!' she cried, throwing her arms around my neck. 'You're back! You look so pale!' Then I told her about the scene with my father. 'Oh my God! I was expecting something like this, ' she said. 'When Joseph came and told us your father had arrived, my heart stopped as though he'd brought bad news. Poor dear! And I'm to blame for all your troubles. Perhaps it would be better for you to leave me than quarrel with your father. Still, I never did him any harm. We live very quietly and we'll live more quietly still. Of course, he realizes that you must have a mistress, and he should be pleased it's me, because I love you and won't ask you for anything more than your circumstances warrant. Did you tell him what we've worked out for the future?' 'Yes, and that's what upset him most, because he took the fact that our minds were made up as a sure sign of our love for each other.' 'What do we do now?' 'Stay together, sweet Marguerite, and let the storm blow over.' 'And will it blow over?' 'Storms always do.' 'But your father won't leave it at that, will he?' 'What can he do?' 'How should I know? Everything a father can do to force his son to obey him. He'll remind you of my past life, and may even credit me with some new treachery invented for the purpose of persuading you to give me up.' 'You know how I love you.' 'Yes, but there's something else I know: sooner or later you'll have to obey your father, and in the end you may let yourself be convinced.' 'No, Marguerite, I'll do the convincing. He's furious because of the stories some of his friends have been putting about. But he's good and he's fair-minded, and he'll get over his first impressions. Anyway, even if he doesn't, it won't make any difference to me!' 'You mustn't say that, Armand. I'd rather anything than give people the idea that I've come between you and your family. Leave it for today, and return to Paris tomorrow. Your father will have thought things over and so will you, and perhaps you'll understand each other better. Don't offend his principles. Try to appear as though you're making some concessions to what he wants. Make it look as if you're not all that attached to me, and he'll leave matters as they are, Keep hoping, my dear, and be sure of one thing: whatever happens, your Marguerite will still be yours.' 'You swear it?' 'Do I need to?' How sweet it is to let yourself be won round by a voice your love! Marguerite and I spent all day going over our plans as though we somehow knew we had to hurry them through. We were expecting something to happen at any minute but, happily, the day passed without further event. The following morning, I set off at ten o'clock and reached the hotel around noon. My father had already gone out. I went to my apartment hoping that he might be there. No one had called. I went round to my solicitor's. There was no one there either! I returned to the hotel and waited until six. Monsieur Duval did not return. I set off back to Bougival. I found Marguerite not waiting for me, as on the previous evening, but sitting by the fire which the season already required. She was deep enough in her thoughts for me to come right up to her chair without her hearing me or turning round. When my lips touched her forehead, she started as though the kiss had woken her suddenly. 'You gave me a fright, ' she said. 'What did your father say?' 'I didn't see him. I can't make it out. I couldn't find him at his hotel nor in any of the places where he was likely to be.' 'Well, you'll have to try again tomorrow.' 'I've a good mind to wait for him to ask to see me. I think I've done everything that could be expected of me.' 'No, my dear, it's not enough. You must go and see your father again, and do it tomorrow.' 'Why tomorrow rather than any other day?' 'Because, ' said Marguerite, who, I thought, flushed slightly at my question, 'because then your determination will seem all the greater and consequently we shall be forgiven more quickly.' For the remainder of that day, Marguerite seemed preoccupied, listless, downcast. I had to say everything twice to get an answer. She attributed her inattentiveness to the fears for the future which the events of the past two days had prompted. I spent the night trying to reassure her, and she sent me off the next morning displaying a distinct uneasiness which I could not fathom. As on the previous day, my father was out. But, before going, he had left me this letter: 'If you return to see me today, wait until four. If I'm not back by four, come back and dine with me tomorrow. I must speak with you.' I waited until the appointed time. My father did not put in an appearance. So I left. The evening before, I had found Marguerite downcast; now I found her feverish and agitated. When she saw me come in, she threw her arms around my neck, but she remained weeping in my arms for some time. I questioned her about her sudden dejection which, as it worsened, alarmed me. She gave me no specific reason for it, and merely fell back on the excuses a woman falls back on when she does not want to give truthful answers. When she was a little more herself again, I told her the outcome of my journey to town. I showed her my father's letter, and observed that some good might very well come of it. When she saw the letter and heard my view of it, her tears began coming so fast that I called Nanine and, fearing some sort of nervous attack, we put her to bed. The poor girl wept without uttering a word, but she kept my hands clasped in hers and kissed them continually. I asked Nanine if, during my absence, her mistress had received a letter or a visit which could account for the state she was in, but Nanine replied that no one had come and nothing had been delivered. And yet something had been going on since the previous evening which was all the more worrying because Marguerite was hiding it from me. She seemed to be a little calmer during the evening and, motioning me to sit at the foot of her bed, she gave me lengthy, renewed assurances that she loved me. Then she smiled, though it was an effort for her to do so, for despite herself her eyes were masked with tears. I used every means to make her reveal the real cause of her sorrows, but she stubbornly continued to give me the same vague excuses which I have already mentioned. In the end, she fell asleep in my arms, but her sleep was the kind which wearies the body instead of giving it rest. From time to time, she would cry out, wake with a start and, after reassuring herself that I was really by her side, would make me swear I would love her always. I could make nothing of these fits of distress which continues until morning. Then Marguerite lapsed into a sort of torpor. She had not slept now for two nights. Her rest was short-lived. About eleven o'clock, Marguerite woke and, seeing that I was up and about, looked around her and exclaimed: 'Are you going already?' 'No, ' I said, taking her hands in mine, 'but I wanted to let you sleep. It's still early.' 'What time are you going to Paris?' 'Four o'clock.' 'So soon? You'll stay with me till then, won't you?' 'Of course. Don't I always?' 'I'm so glad!' Then she went on listlessly: 'Are we going to have lunch?' 'If you want.' 'And then you'll hold me right up to the moment you go?' 'Yes, and I'll come back as soon as I can.' 'Come back?' she said, staring wild- eyed at me. 'Of course.' 'That's right, you'll come back tonight and I'll be waiting for you, as usual, and you'll love me, and we'll be happy just as we've been since we met.' These words were said so falteringly, and seemed to hide some painful notion that was so persistent, that I feared for her reason. 'Listen, ' I told her, 'you're ill, I can't leave you like this. I'll write to my father and say he's not to expect me.' 'No! no!' she exclaimed vehemently, 'you mustn't do that. Your father would only accuse me of preventing you from going to him when he wants to see you. No! no! you must go, you must! Besides, I'm not ill, I couldn't be better. I had a bad dream, that's all, I wasn't properly awake.' From then on, Marguerite tried to appear more cheerful. There were no more tears. When it was time for me to leave, I kissed her and asked her if she wanted to come with me as far as the station: I hoped that the ride would take her mind off things, and that the air might do her good. But most of all, I wanted to remain with her as long as possible. She agreed, put her cloak on and came with me, bringing Nanine so that she would not have to return alone. A score of times I was on the point of not going. But the hope of returning soon and fear of further antagonizing my father kept my purpose firm, and the train bore me away. 'Until tonight, ' I said to Marguerite as I said goodbye. She did not answer. Once before she had not answered when I had said those selfsame words, and Count de G, as you will recall, had spent the night with her. But that time was so far off that it seemed to have been erased from my memory. If I had anything to fear, it was assuredly not that Marguerite was deceiving me. When I reached Paris, I hurried round to Prudence's to ask her to go down and see Marguerite. I hoped that her zest and good spirits would cheer her up. I entered without waiting to be announced, and found Prudence getting dressed. 'Ah!' she said anxiously, 'is Marguerite with you?' 'No.' 'How is she?' 'She's not well.' 'So she's not coming?' 'Was she supposed to?' Madame Duvernoy reddened and, somewhat embarrassed, answered: 'What I meant was, now you've come to Paris, isn't she going to come and join you?' 'No.' I stared at Prudence. She lowered her eyes, and from the way she looked, I had the feeling that she was afraid of seeing me stay much longer. 'As a matter of fact, my dear Prudence, I came to ask you, if you've nothing else to do, to go down and see Marguerite this evening. You could keep her company and stay the night. I've never seen her the way she was today, and I'm terrified she's going to be ill.' 'I'm dining in town, ' Prudence replied, 'and I can't see Marguerite this evening. But I will tomorrow.' I said goodbye to Madame Duvernoy, who seemed to me as though she was almost as preoccupied as Marguerite, and went to call on my father who, from the start, gave me studied, searching looks. He held out his hand. 'You called twice to see me. That pleases me, Armand, ' he said. 'It's given me hope that you've reflected on your position, as I have on mine.' 'May I ask, father, what the outcome of your reflections has been?' 'The outcome, my boy, is that I realize I attached too much importance to the reports I was given, and I have made up my mind not to be quite so hard on you.' 'Do you mean it, father!' I exclaimed, overjoyed. 'What I mean, my dear boy, is that a young man needs a mistress and, after further enquiries, I would prefer to know that you were the lover of Mademoiselle Gautier than of some other woman.' 'Oh, thank you, father! You've made me so happy!' We talked in this vein for a short while, and then sat down to dine. My father remained most affable throughout the meal. I was very anxious to get back to Bougival to tell Marguerite all about this auspicious development. I glanced continually at the clock. 'You've got your eye on the time, ' said my father, 'you can't wait to get away. Oh, you young people! always sacrificing genuine feelings for suspect attachments!' 'Don't say that, father! Marguerite loves me. I know she does.' My father did not answer. His manner suggested that he neither believed nor disbelieved me. He was very insistent that I should spend the entire evening with him so that I would not have to set off again until the following day. But I had left Marguerite feeling ill, said so, and asked his leave to go and join her soon, promising to return the following day. It was a fine evening. He decided he would accompany me on to the platform. I had never been so happy. The future looked exactly as I had wanted it to look for so long. I loved my father more than I had ever loved him. As I was on the point of taking my leave, he pressed me one last time to stay. I refused. 'So you really love her?' he asked. 'To distraction.' 'In that case, go!' and he put his hand to his brow as though to drive a thought away, and then opened his mouth as if to tell me something. But he simply shook my hand and turned away abruptly, shouting after me: 'I shall see you tomorrow, then!' 第二十一章 “总算来了！”她嚷着向我扑来搂着我，“你来了，你脸色有多么苍白啊！” 于是我把我和父亲之间发生的事告诉了她。 “啊！天哪！我也想到了，”她说，“约瑟夫来通知我们说你父亲来了的时候，我像大祸临头一样浑身哆嗦。可怜的朋友！都是我让你这么痛苦的。也许你离开我要比跟你父亲闹翻好一些。可是我一点也没有惹着他呀。我们安安静静地过日子，将来的日子还要安静。他完全知道你需要一个情妇，我做你的情妇，他应该为此而感到高兴，因为我爱你，了解你的景况，也不会向你提出过分的要求。你有没有对他说过我们将来的计划？” “讲过了，最惹他生气的正是这件事，因为他在我们这个主意里面看到了我们相爱的证据。” “那怎么办呢？” “我们还是待在一起，我好心的玛格丽特，让这场暴风雨过去吧。” “能过去吗？” “一定会过去的。” “但是你父亲会就此罢休吗？” “你说他会怎么办？” “我怎么能知道呢？一个父亲为了使他儿子服从他的意志，什么事都干得出来的。他为了让你抛弃我，会使你想起我过去的生活，也许承他情再替我编出一些新鲜事来。” “你当然清楚我是爱你的。” “是的，但是我也知道你迟早总得听从你父亲的，最后你也许会被他说服的。” “不会的，玛格丽特，最后将是我说服他。他是听了几个朋友的闲话才发这么大脾气的；但是他心肠很好，为人正直，他还是会回心转意的。再说，总而言之，这和我又有什么相干！” “别这么说，阿尔芒，我什么都愿意，就是不愿意让别人以为是我在撺掇你和你家庭闹翻的；今天就算了，明天你就回巴黎去。你父亲会像你一样从他那方面再好好考虑考虑的，也许你们会相互很好地谅解。不要触犯他的原则，装作对他的愿望作些让步；别显得太关心我，他就会让事情就这么过去的。乐观一些吧，我的朋友，对一件事情要有信心：不管发生什么事，你的玛格丽特总是你的。” “你向我发誓吗？” “需要我向你发誓吗？” 听从一个心爱的声音的规劝是多么温柔甜蜜啊！玛格丽特和我两个一整天都在反复谈论我们的计划，就像我们已经懂得了必须更快地实现这些计划，我们每时每刻都在期待发生什么事。幸而这一天总算过去了，没有发生什么新情况。 第二天，我十点钟就出发，中午时分，我到了旅馆。 我父亲已经出去了。 我回到了自己家里，希望他可能也上那里去了。没有人来过。我又到公证人家里，也没有人。 我重新回到旅馆，一直等到六点钟，父亲没有回来。 我又回布吉瓦尔去了。 我看到了玛格丽特，她并没有像前一天那样在等我，而是坐在炉火旁边，那时的天气已经需要生炉子了。 她深深地陷在沉思之中。我走近她的扶手椅她都没有听到我的声音，连头也没有回，当我把嘴唇贴在她的额头上时，她哆嗦了一下，就好像是被这下亲吻惊醒了似的。 “你吓了我一跳。”她对我说，“你父亲呢？” “我没有见到他。我不知道是怎么回事，不论在旅馆里，还是在他可能去的地方都找不到他。” “好吧，明天再去。” “我想等他派人来叫我。我想所有我应该做的我都做了。” “不，我的朋友，这样做远远不够，一定要回到你父亲那儿去，尤其是明天。” “为什么非要是明天而不是别的日子呢？” “因为，”玛格丽特听到我这样问，脸色微微发红，说道，“因为越是你要求得迫切，我们将越快地得到宽恕。” 这一天里，玛格丽特总是茫然若失，心不在焉，忧心忡忡。为了得到她的回答，我对她说话，总得重复两遍。她把这种心事重重的原因归诸于两天以来发生的事情和对前途的担忧。 整个晚上我都在安慰她，第二天她带着我无法理解的焦躁不安催我动身。 像头天一样，我父亲不在，但是他在出去的时候给我留下了这封信： 如果您今天又来看我，等我到四点钟，如果四点钟我还不回来，那么明天跟我一起来吃晚饭，我一定要跟您谈谈。 我一直等到信上指定的时间；父亲没有来，我便走了。 上一天我发现玛格丽特愁眉苦脸，这一天我看玛格丽特像是在发烧，情绪非常激动。看到我进去，她紧紧搂住我，在我的怀里哭了很长一段时间。 我问她怎么会突然觉得这样悲伤。可是她越来越伤心，使我感到惊奇万分。她没有告诉我任何讲得通的理由，她说的话，都是一个女人不愿意说真话时所提出的借口。 等她稍许平静了一些后，我把这次奔波的结果告诉了她，又把父亲的信给她看，要她注意，根据信上所说，我们可以想得乐观一些。 看到这封信，想到我所做的一切，她更是泪如泉涌，以致我不得不把纳尼娜叫来。我们怕她神经受了刺激，就把这个一句话也不说，光是痛哭流涕的可怜的姑娘扶到床上让她躺下，但是她握住我的双手不住地吻着。 我问纳尼娜，在我出门的时候，她的女主人是不是收到过什么信，或者有什么客人来过，才使她变成现在这般模样，可纳尼娜回答我说没有来过什么人，也没有人送来过什么东西。 但是，从昨天起一定发生过什么事，玛格丽特越是瞒我，我越是感到惶惶不安。 傍晚，她似乎稍许平静了一些。她叫我坐在她的床脚边，又絮絮叨叨地对我重复着她对爱情的忠贞。随后，她又对我嫣然一笑，但很勉强，因为无论她怎样克制，她的眼睛里总是含着眼泪。 我想尽办法要她把伤心的真实原因讲出来，但她翻来覆去地对我讲一些我已经跟您讲过的那些不着边际的理由。 她终于在我怀里睡着了，但是这种睡眠非但不能使她得到休息，反而在摧残她的身体，她不时地发出一声尖叫，突然惊醒。等她肯定我确实还在她身边之后，她便要我起誓永远爱她。 这种持续的痛苦一直延续到第二天早上，我一点也不清楚是什么原因。接着玛格丽特迷迷糊糊睡着了。她已有两个晚上没有好好睡觉了。 这次休息的时间也不长。 十一点左右，玛格丽特醒来了，看到我已经起身，她茫然四顾，喊了起来。 “你这就要走了吗？” “不，”我握住她的双手说，“可是我想让你再睡一会儿，时间还早着呢。” “你几点钟到巴黎去？” “四点钟。” “这么早？在去巴黎之前你一直陪着我是吗？” “当然罗，我不是一直这样的吗？” “多幸福啊！” “我们去吃午饭好吗？”她心不在焉地接着说。 “如果你愿意的话。” “随后一直到你离开，你都搂着我好吗？” “好的，而且我尽量早些回来。” “你还回来吗？”她用一种惊恐的眼光望着我说。 “当然啦。” “是的，今天晚上你要回来的，我像平时一样等着你，你仍然爱我，我们还是像我们认识以来一样地幸福啊。” 这些话说得吞吞吐吐，断断续续，她似乎心里还有什么难言之隐，以致我一直在担心玛格丽特会不会发疯。 “听我说，”我对她说，“你病了，我不能这样丢下你，我写信给我父亲要他别等我了。” “不，不，”她突然嚷了起来，“不要这样，你父亲要怪我的，在他要见你的时候，我不让你到他那儿去；不，不，你一定得去，必须去，再说我也没有病，我身体很好，我不过是做了一个恶梦，我神志还没有完全清醒过来呢！” 从这时起，玛格丽特强颜欢笑，她不再哭了。 时间到了，我一定得走了，我吻了她，问她是不是愿意陪我到车站去，我希望散散步可以使她心里宽慰一些；换换空气会使她舒服一些。 我特别想跟她一起多待一会儿。 她同意了，披上一件大衣，和纳尼娜一起陪我去，免得回家时孤身一人。 我有多少次差不多都决定不走了，但是那种快去快来的想法和那种怕引起我父亲对我不满的顾虑支持着我。我终于乘上火车走了。 “晚上见，”在分手的时候我对玛格丽特说。 她没有回答我。 对这句话不作回答，她以前也有过一次。而那一次，您还记得吧，G伯爵就在她家里过的夜；但那已经是很遥远的事情，我好像一点印象也没有了。如果说我害怕发生什么事的话，肯定也不会再是玛格丽特欺骗我这样的事了。 到了巴黎，我直奔普律当丝家，请她去看看玛格丽特，希望她热情和快活的脾气能给玛格丽特解解闷。 我未经通报就闯了进去，普律当丝正在梳妆间里。 “啊！”她不安地对我说，“玛格丽特跟您一起来的吗？” “没有。” “她身体好吗？” “她有些不舒服。” “那么她今天不来了吗？” “她一定得来吗？” 迪韦尔诺瓦太太脸红了，她稍微有些尴尬地回答我说： “我是想说，既然您到巴黎来了，难道她就不来这儿和您会面了？” “她不来了。” 我瞧着普律当丝，她垂下眼睛，从她的神色上可以看出她似乎怕我赖着不走。 “我就是来请您去陪她的，亲爱的普律当丝，如果您没有什么事，请您今晚去看看玛格丽特，您去陪陪她，您可以睡在那里。我从来也没有见到过她像今天这个样子，我真怕她要病倒了。” “今天晚上我要在城里吃晚饭，”普律当丝回答我说，“不能去看玛格丽特了，不过我明天可以去看她。” 我向迪韦尔诺瓦太太告辞，她仿佛跟玛格丽特一样心事重重；我到了父亲那儿，他第一眼就把我仔细端详了一番。 他向我伸出手来。 “您两次来看我使我很高兴，阿尔芒，”他对我说，“这就使我有了希望，您大概像我为您一样也为我考虑过了。” “我可不可以冒昧地请问您，爸爸，您考虑的结果是什么？” “结果是，我的孩子，我过于夸大了传闻的严重性，我答应对你稍许宽容一些。” “您说什么？爸爸！”我快乐地嚷着。 “我说，亲爱的孩子，每个年轻人都得有个情妇，而且根据我新近知道的情况，我宁愿知道你的情妇是戈蒂埃小姐而不是别人。 “我多好的父亲！您使我多么快乐！” 我们就这样谈了一会儿，随后一起吃了饭。整个晚餐期间我父亲都显得很亲切。 我急于要回布吉瓦尔去把这个可喜的转变告诉玛格丽特。我一直在望着墙上的时钟。 “你在看时间，”我父亲对我说，“你急于想离开我。呵，年轻人啊！你们总是这样，牺牲真诚的感情去换取靠不住的爱情。” “别这样说，爸爸！玛格丽特爱我，这是我坚信不疑的。” 我父亲没有回答，他看上去既不怀疑，也不相信。 他一直坚持要我跟他一起度过那个夜晚，让我第二天再走。但是我撇下的玛格丽特在生病，我把这个对他说了，接着我请求他同意我早些回去看她，并答应他第二天再来。 天气很好，他要一直陪我到站台，我从来也没有这样快活过，我长期以来所追求的未来生活终于来到了。 我从来也没有这样爱过我的父亲。 在我就要动身的时候，他最后又一次要我留下来，我拒绝了。 “那么你很爱她吗？”他问我。 “爱得发疯！” “那么去吧！”他用手拂了一下前额，仿佛要驱走一个什么念头似的，随后他张开嘴巴仿佛要跟我讲什么事，但是他还是只握了握我的手，突然地离开了我，一面对我大声说道： “好吧，明天见！”

Chapter 20 MY father was sitting in my drawing-room in his dressing-gown. He was writing. I knew at once, from the way he looked up at me as I entered, that serious matters were about to be broached. I went up to him, however, as though I had no inkling of anything from his expression, and I embraced him. 'When did you arrive, father?' 'Last night.' 'And you're putting up here as usual?' 'Yes.' 'I'm so sorry I wasn't here to welcome you.' I expected that these words would unleash the lecture which my father's cool expression clearly promised. But he did not answer, sealed the letter he had just written, and gave it to Joseph to post. When we were alone, my father stood up and, leaning against the mantelpiece, said: 'The two of us, my dear Armand, have serious matters to discuss.' 'I'm listening, father.' 'Will you promise to be frank with me?' 'I'm never anything else.' 'Is it true that you are living with a woman named Marguerite Gautier?' 'Yes.' 'Do you know what sort of woman she was?' 'She was a kept woman.' 'Was it on her account that you neglected to come down to see your sister and me this year?' 'Yes, father, I admit it.' 'So you love this woman very much?' 'You can see I do, father, since she made me forget a sacred duty, for which I now humbly ask your pardon.' Clearly, my father had not been expecting such plain answers, for he appeared to reflect for a moment before saying: 'You must have know, of course, that you couldn't go on living like this forever?' 'I was afraid it might be so, father, but I knew no such thing.' 'But you must have known, ' my father continued in a slightly sharper tone of voice, 'that I would never allow it.' 'I told myself that, as long as I did nothing to prejudice the respect which I owe to your name and the time- honoured probity of the family, then I could behave as I have ?and this went some way to reassuring me about the fears I had.' Passion arms us against sentiment. I was ready to fight any battle, even against my father, to keep Marguerite. 'Well, the time has come to behave differently.' 'But why, father?' 'Because you are on the point of committing actions which undermine the respect which you say you have for your family.' 'I don't understand what you're saying.' 'Then I'll explain what I said. If you have a mistress, all well and good. If you pay her like any gentleman pays to be loved by a kept woman, even better. But when you neglect your most sacred obligations on her account; when you allow rumours of your scandalous conduct to travel all the way down to my part of the world and cast the shadow of a stain on the honourable name I have given you, then that is something which cannot continue, nor shall it continue.' 'Allow me to say, father, that whoever told you all this about me was badly informed. I am Marguerite Gautier's lover, I live with her: it's really quite simple. I have not given Mademoiselle Gautier the name I received from you. I spend on her no more than my means permit, I haven't run up any debts and I haven't got myself into any of the predicaments which entitle a father to say to his son what you have just said to me.' 'A father is always entitled to turn his son from the ill-considered path on which he sees him set his foot. You have not done anything wrong as yet, but you will.' 'Really, father!' 'Sir, I know life better than you do. Wholly pure sentiments are to be found only in women who are wholly chaste. Every Manon can turn a man into a Des Grieux, and times and manners have changed. It would be pointless if the world grew older without growing wiser. You will leave your mistress.' 'It distresses me to disobey you, father, but that is out of the question.' 'I shall compel you.' 'Unfortunately, father, there aren't any St-Margaret's Islands nowadays where courtesans can be transported, and, even if there were, I should follow Mademoiselle Gautier there if you managed to have her sent away. I'm sorry, it may be wrong of me, but I can be happy only on the condition that I remain her lover.' 'Come, Armand, open your eyes and see your father who has always loved you and who wants only your happiness. Is it honourable for you to live as man and wife with a woman who's been had by everybody?' 'What does it matter, father, if no one else shall have her again? What does it matter if she loves me, if she has been transformed by the love she has for me and the love I feel for her? What can it possibly matter if there has been a spiritual change in her?' 'And do you think, sir, that the mission of a gentleman is to bring about spiritual changes in courtesans? Do you imagine that God has given life so grotesque a purpose, and that a man's heart must have no other zeal than this? How will this miraculous cure end? And what will you make of what you're saying now, when you're forty? You'll laugh at this affair, if you are still able to laugh, if, that is, it hasn't left an indelible mark on your past. Where would you be now if your father had thought as you do, if he'd surrendered his life to the enticements of love instead of setting it unshakeably upon a belief in honour and integrity? Think, Armand, and stop talking nonsense. Come, you shall leave this woman. Your father begs you to.' I made no reply. 'Armand, ' continued my father, 'in the name of your saintly mother, listen to me: give up this way of life. You will forget it far more quickly than you think and, in any case, you are kept chained to it by a philosophy which is quite absurd. You are twenty-four: think of the future. You won't always be in love with this woman, nor will she love you forever. You have both exaggerated what you feel for each other. You're shutting all the doors to a career. Take one more step, and you'll never be able to get off the path you're on, and you'll regret your misspent youth for the rest of your life. Leave now. Come and stay for a month or two with your sister. Rest and devoted family love will soon cure you of this infatuation, for it is nothing else. 'Meanwhile, your mistress will get over it. She'll take another lover and then, when you see what kind of person almost made you quarrel with your father and forfeit his affection, you will say I was quite right to come and fetch you, and you will bless me for having done so. 'So you will come away, won't you, Armand?' I felt that my father was right about women in general, but I was convinced that he was wrong about Marguerite. However, he spoke these last words so gently, so beseechingly, that I dared not answer. 'Well?' he said, in a voice heavy with emotion. 'Look, father, I can't promise anything, ' I said at length. 'What you are asking is more than I can do. Please believe me, ' I continued, seeing him stir impatiently, 'you're making too much of the consequences of this affair. Marguerite isn't the kind of girl you think she is. Far from setting me on the wrong road, this love of ours, on the contrary, has the power to nurture the finest sentiments in me. True love always makes a man finer, whatever sort of woman inspires it. If you knew Marguerite, you'd see that there's no risk to me. She is as noble as the noblest women. She is as disinterested as the others are grasping.' 'Though that hasn't stopped her pocketing all your money, for the sixty thousand francs your mother left you, which you want to give her, represents ?and take note of what I'm saying ?all the money you have.' In all likelihood, my father had kept this peroration as a threat intended to undermine my last defences. I felt stronger against his threats than against his entreaties. 'Who told you that I was to make the money over to her?' I went on. 'My solicitor. Would any honourable man have drawn up a deed of that kind without letting me know first? Well, it was to prevent you beggaring yourself for the benefit of some loose woman that brought me to Paris. When your mother died, she left you enough to live on decently, but not enough for you to go giving it away to your mistresses.' 'I swear to you, father, Marguerite knew nothing of this deed of gift.' 'Why did you have it drawn up, then?' 'Because Marguerite, the woman you've slandered and want me to give up, has sacrificed everything she owns to live with me.' 'And you have accepted this sacrifice? What sort of man are you, sir, that you will allow a Mademoiselle Marguerite Gautier to make sacrifices for you? But, enough. You will leave this woman. A little while ago, I asked you to; now, I order you to. I will not have such obscenities in my family. Pack your trunks and get ready to come with me.' 'Forgive me, father, ' I said, 'but I shall not leave here.' 'Why not?' 'Because I am now at an age when I don't have to obey orders any more.' At this, my father turned pale. 'Very well, sir, ' he went on, 'I am clear in my mind what remains to be done.' He rang. Joseph appeared. 'Have my trunks sent round to the Hotel de Paris, ' he told my servant. And with these words, he went into his bedroom where he finished dressing. When he emerged, I went up to him. 'Will you promise me, father, ' I said, 'that you won't do anything to distress Marguerite?' My father paused, gave me a look of contempt, and merely said: 'I do believe you've taken leave of your senses.' Thereupon, he stormed out, slamming the door violently behind him. Then I too left, took a cab and set off for Bougival. Marguerite was waiting for me at the window. 第二十章 我父亲穿着晨衣，坐在我的客厅里写信。 从他抬起眼睛看我进去的神情，我立即就知道了他要谈的问题是相当严重的。 但是我装作没有看到，走上前去抱吻了他。 “您是什么时候来的，爸爸？” “昨天晚上。” “您还是像过去一样，一下车就到我这里来的吗？” “是的。” “我很抱歉没有去接您。” 讲了这几句话以后我就等着父亲的训导，这从他冷冰冰的脸上是看得出来的。但是他什么也不说，封上他刚写好的那封信，交给约瑟夫去寄掉。 当屋子里只剩下我们两人时，父亲站起来，靠在壁炉上对我说： “亲爱的阿尔芒，我有些严肃的事情要跟你谈谈。” “我听着，爸爸。” “你答应我说老实话吗？” “我从来不说假话。” “你在跟一个叫做玛格丽特?戈蒂埃的女人同居，这是真的吗？” “真的。” “你知道这是一个什么样的女人吗？” “一个妓女。” “就是为了她，你今年才忘了来看你妹妹和我两个人吗？” “是的，爸爸，我承认。” “那么你很爱这个女人罗？” “这您看得很清楚，爸爸，正是由于她才使我没有尽到一个神圣的义务，所以我今天来向您请罪。” 我父亲无疑没有料到我会这样爽快地回答他，因为他似乎考虑了一会儿，后来他对我说： “你难道真不知道你是不能一直这样生活下去的吗？”“我曾经有过这样的担心，爸爸，但是我不知道为什么。” “可是你应该知道，”我父亲用一种比较生硬的语气继续说，“我是不会允许你这样做的。” “我想只要我不败坏门风，玷辱家誉，我就可以像我现在这样过日子，正是这些想法才使我稍许安心了些。” 爱情在和感情作激烈的对抗，为了保住玛格丽特，我准备反抗一切，甚至反抗我父亲。 “那么现在是改变你生活方式的时候了。” “啊，为什么呢？爸爸。” “因为你正在做一些败坏你家庭名声的事，而且你也认为是应该保持这个名声的。” “我不明白您这些话的意思。” “我马上跟你解释。你有一个情妇，这很好，你像一个时髦人那样养着一个妓女，这也无可非议；但是为了她你忘记了最最神圣的职责，你的丑闻一直传到了我们外省的家乡，玷辱了我家的门楣，这是不行的，以后不准这样。” “请听我说，爸爸，那些把我的事情告诉您的人不了解情况。我是戈蒂埃小姐的情人，我和她同居，这些事极其普通。我并没有把从您那儿得到的姓氏给戈蒂埃小姐，我在她身上花的钱是我的收入允许的。我没有欠债，总之我的行动没有任何一点值得一个做父亲的向他儿子说您刚才对我说的这番话。” “看到儿子不走正道，做父亲的总是有权把他拉回来的。 你还没有做什么坏事，但你以后会做的。” “爸爸！” “先生，对于人生我总比您有经验些。只有真正贞洁的女人才谈得上真正纯洁的爱情。任何一个玛侬都会有一个德?格里欧的。现在时代和风尚都不同了，人要是年纪大了仍不长进，那他也只能算是虚度岁月了。您必须离开您的情妇。” “很遗憾我不能听从您，爸爸，这是不可能的。” “我要强迫您同意。” “不幸的是，爸爸，放逐妓女的圣玛格丽特岛已经没有了，而且即使它还存在，您又能把她发送到那里去的话，我也会随着戈蒂埃小姐一起去的。您说怎么办？也许是我错了，但是我只有在做这个女人的情人时才感到有幸福。” “啊，阿尔芒，您要睁大眼睛看看清楚，您得承认您父亲一直在爱着您，他一心盼望您得到幸福。您像做丈夫似的跟一个和大家都睡过的姑娘同居，难道不觉得羞耻吗？” “只要她以后不再跟别人睡，爸爸，那又有什么关系？只要这个姑娘爱我，只要她由于我们相互的爱情而得到新生，总之，只要她已经改邪归正，那又有什么关系！” “啊！先生，那么您认为一个有身分的男人，他的任务就是使妓女改邪归正吗？难道您相信天主赋予人生的竟是这么一个怪诞的使命吗？一个人心里就不该有其他方面的热情吗？到您四十岁的时候，这种神乎其神的治疗将会得到什么样的结果呢？您将对您今天讲的话又会有些什么想法？如果这种爱情在您已经度过的岁月中还没有留下太深的痕迹，如果到时候您还笑得出来的话，您自己也会对这种爱情感到可笑的。如果您父亲过去也跟您一样想法，听任他的一生被这类爱情冲动所摆布，而不是以荣誉和忠诚的思想去成家立业的话，您现在又是怎么样的一个人呢？您想一想吧，阿尔芒，别再讲这些蠢话了。好吧，离开这个女人吧，您的父亲恳求您。” 我什么也不回答。 “阿尔芒，”我父亲继续说，“看在您圣洁的母亲份上，相信我，放弃这种生活，您马上会把它丢到脑后的，比您现在想象的还要快些。您对待这种生活的理论是行不通的。您已经二十四岁，想想您的前途吧。您不可能永远爱这个女人，她也不会永远爱您的。你们两个都把你们的爱情夸大了。您断送了一生的事业。再走一步您就会陷入泥坑不能自拔，一辈子都会为青年时期的失足而后悔。走吧，到您妹妹那里去，过上一两个月。休息和家庭的温暖很快就会把您这种狂热医好，因为这只不过是一种狂热而已。 “在这段时间里，您的情妇会想通的，她会另外找一个情人，而当您看到您差一点为了这样一个女人跟您父亲闹翻，失去他的慈爱，您就会对我说，我今天来找您是很有道理的，您就会感谢我的。 “好吧，阿尔芒，你会离开她的，是吗？” 我觉得我父亲的话对所有其他的女人来说是对的，但是我深信他的话对玛格丽特来说却是错的。然而他跟我说最后几句话的语气是那么温柔，那么恳切，我都不敢回答他。 “怎么样？”他用一种激动的声音问我。 “怎么样，爸爸，我什么也不能答应您。”我终于说道，“您要求我做的事超出了我的能力范围，请相信我，”我看见他作了一个不耐烦的动作，我继续说道，“您把这种关系的后果看得过于严重了。玛格丽特并不是您想象中的那种姑娘。这种爱情非但不会把我引向邪路，相反能在我身上发展成最最崇高的感情。真正的爱情始终是使人上进的，不管激起这种爱情的女人是什么人。如果您认识玛格丽特，您就会明白我没有任何危险。她像最高贵的女人一样高贵。别的女人身上有多少贪婪，她身上就有多少无私。” “这倒并不妨碍她接受您全部财产，因为您把从母亲那儿得到的六万法郎全都给了她。这六万法郎是您仅有的财产，您要好好记住我对您讲的话。” 我父亲很可能有意把这句威胁的话留在最后讲，当作对我的最后一击。 我在威胁面前比在婉言恳求面前更加坚强。 “谁对您说我要把这笔钱送给玛格丽特的？”我接着说。 “我的公证人。一个上流社会有教养的人能不通知我就办这样一件事吗？好吧，我就是为了不让您因一个姑娘而做败家子才到巴黎来的。您母亲在临死的时候给您留下的这笔钱是让您规规矩矩地过日子，而不是让您在情妇面前摆阔气的。” “我向您发誓，爸爸，玛格丽特根本不知道这回事。” “那您为什么要这样做呢？” “因为玛格丽特，这个受到您污蔑的女人，这个您要我抛弃的女人，为了和我同居牺牲了她所有的一切。” “而您接受了这种牺牲？那么您算是什么人呢？先生，您竟同意一位玛格丽特小姐为您牺牲什么东西吗？好了，够了。您必须抛弃这个女人。刚才我是请求您，现在我是命令您。我不愿意在我家里发生这样的丑事。把您的箱子收拾好，准备跟我一起走。” “请原谅我，爸爸，”我说，“我不走。” “为什么？” “因为我已经到了可以不再服从一个命令的年龄了。” 听到这个回答，我父亲的脸色都变白了。 “很好，先生，”他又说，“我知道我该怎么办。” 他拉铃。 约瑟夫走了进来。 “把我的箱子送到巴黎旅馆去，”他对我的仆人说，一面走进他的卧室里去穿衣服。 他出来时，我向他迎了上去。 “爸爸，”我对他说，“别做什么会使玛格丽特感到痛苦的事，您能答应我吗？” 我父亲站定了，轻蔑地看着我，只是回答我说： “我想您是疯了。” 讲完他就走了出去，把身后的门使劲地关上了。 我也跟着下了楼，搭上一辆双轮马车回布吉瓦尔去了。 玛格丽特在窗口等着我。

Chapter 19 IN the first three letters, my father expressed his concern for my silence and asked the reason for it. In the last, he made it clear that he had beeninformed of my changed way of life, and announced his arrival in the very near future. I have always felt great respect and a genuine affection for my father. So I wrote back saying that the reason for my silence was that I had been away travelling for a while, and I asked him to let me know on which day he proposed to arrive so that I could be there to meet him. I gave my servant my country address and left orders that he was to bring the first letter that came postmarked C. Then I set off again immediately for Bougival. Marguerite was waiting for me at the garden gate. Her look was anxious. She threw her arms around my neck and could not stop herself asking: 'Did you see Prudence?' 'No.' 'Why did you stay so long in Paris?' 'I found some letters from my father which I had to answer.' A few moments after this, Nanine came in. She was out of breath. Marguerite stood up, went over and spoke to her softly. When Nanine had gone, Marguerite sat down beside me once more and, taking my hand, said: 'Why did you deceive me? You went to Prudence's, didn't you?' 'Who told you?' 'Nanine.' 'And who told her?' 'She followed you.' 'So you told her to follow me?' 'Yes. I thought there must have been a very good reason to make you go up to Paris like that. You've not left my side for four months. I was afraid that something awful had happened or that perhaps you were going to see another woman.' 'Silly girl!' 'My mind's easy now. I know what you did, but I still don't know what you were told.' I showed Marguerite my father's letters. 'That's not what I asked. What I'd like to know is why you called on Prudence.' 'To see her.' 'You're lying, my dear.' 'All right then. I went to ask her if the horse was better, and if she'd finished with your shawl and your jewels.' Marguerite flushed, but said nothing. 'And, ' I continued, 'I found out to what use you'd put the horses, shawls and diamonds.' 'And you're angry with me?' 'I'm angry with you for not thinking of asking me for whatever you needed.' 'In affairs like ours, as long as the woman has something of her self- respect left, she must shoulder any number of sacrifices herself rather than ask her lover for money and in so doing taint her love with mercenary motives. You love me, I know you do, but you have no idea just how weak are the ties that bind the love men have for girls like me. Who knows? Perhaps one day, when you were short of money or feeling annoyed, you'd have come round to thinking that our affair was a carefully worked- out plot! Prudence talks too much. I didn't need those horses! I've saved myself money by selling them: I can manage without, and now I don't have to spend anything on them. As long as you love me, that's all I ask. And you can love me just as much without horses and shawls and diamonds.' She said all this in so natural a tone of voice that there were tears in my eyes as I listened. 'But, my sweet Marguerite, ' I answered, lovingly pressing my mistress's hands in mine, 'you must have known that some day I'd find out about your sacrifice, and that the day I did find out, I'd never have allowed it.' 'And why not?' 'Because, dearest girl, I do not intend that the affection you truly feel for me should leave you the poorer by even a single piece of jewelry. Like you, I don't ever want you to think, when things are hard or you're feeling angry, that such bad times would never have happened if you'd lived with somebody else. Nor can I stand the thought that you should ever regret living with me, even for a moment. A few days from now, your horses, your diamonds and your shawls will be returned to you. You need them as much as life needs air. It may be ridiculous, but I'd rather have you lavish than frugal.' 'Which is to say you don't love me any more.' 'Don't be silly!' 'If you really loved me, you'd let me love you in my own way. But you persist in thinking of me as though I'm some girl who can't live without all this luxury, someone you still think you have to pay. You are ashamed to accept proof that I love you. In your heart, you're thinking of leaving me some day, and you're being very careful to put your scruples beyond suspicion. You're quite right, my dear, but I had expected better.' And Marguerite stirred, as though she were about to get up. I held her back a moment, saying: 'I want you to be happy. I don't want there to be anything that you can reproach me for. That's all.' 'Even so, we shall go our separate ways!' 'Why, Marguerite? Who can separate us?' I exclaimed. 'You. You won't take me into your confidence by saying exactly where you stand, and you're vain enough to want to keep me in my place. You want to keep me in the luxury to which I was accustomed, but you also want to maintain the moral distance between us. You're the one. You don't consider that my feelings are sufficiently disinterested to want to share what money you have with me so that we could live happily together. No, you'd sooner ruin yourself. A slave to a stupid prejudice, that's what you are. Do you really think I compare a carriage and bits of jewelry with your love? Do you imagine I think happiness consists of those empty pleasures which people make do with when they've got nothing to love, but which seem so unimportant when they have? You'll pay my debts, you'll sign away all you have and you'll be my keeper! And how long will that last? Two or three months ?and then it'll be too late to start the life I'm offering you, for then you'd be kept by me, and that's something which no self- respecting man could accept. Whereas at the moment, you've got eight or ten thousand francs a year on which we can manage. I'll sell everything I don't need, and by investing the proceeds I'd have a steady two thousand a year. We'll rent a nice little apartment and live there together. In summer, we'll come down to the country, not to a house like this, but to something smaller, just big enough for two. You've no ties, I'm free, and we're young. For heaven's sake, Armand, don't make me go back to the life I had to lead once!' I could not answer. My eyes brimmed over with tears of gratitude and love, and I threw myself into Marguerite's arms. 'I wanted, ' she went on, 'to arrange everything without telling you. I wanted to pay my debts and get my new apartment ready. In October, we would have reteurned to Paris and it would have been too late to say no. But since Prudence has told you everything, you'll have to agree before and not after. Do you love me enough to say yes?' I could not hold out against such devotion. I kissed Marguerite's hands with great feeling and told her: 'I shall do whatever you want.' And so what she had decided was agreed between us. Then she became wildly exhilarated. She danced, she sang, she went into raptures about how homely her new apartment would be, and was already asking me in what part of Paris it should be and how it should be laid out. I could see she was happy and very proud of this arrangement which seemed as though it would bring us together for good. Which was why I had no wish to be any less keen than she was. In a moment, I decided what course my life was to take. I worked out how I stood financially, and made over to Marguerite the income from my mother's estate, though it did not seem anything like an adequate return for the sacrifice which I was accepting.   There remained the allowance of five thousand francs which my father made me and, however things turned out, this annual allowance would always be enough to live on. I did not tell Marguerite what I had decided, for I was quite convinced that she would refuse to accept my deed of gift. The money in question derived from a mortgage of sixty thousand francs on a house which I had never even seen. All I knew was that each quarter, my father's solicitor, an old family friend, handed over seven hundred and fifty francs against my signature.   The day Marguerite and I came to Paris to look at apartments, I called at his office and asked him how I should set about transferring this income to another party. The good man thought that I was ruined, and asked me questions about why I had decided to take such a step. Now, since I was going to have to tell him sooner or later in whose favour I was making the deed of gift, I decided to confess the truth there and then. He did not raise any of the objections which his position as solicitor and friend entitled him to make, and he assured me that he would see that everything was arranged for the best. Of course, I urged him to the greatest discretion with regard to my father, and left him to join Marguerite who was waiting for me at Julie Duprat's, where she had preferred to stay rather than go and be lectured by Prudence. We started looking for apartments. Marguerite found all the ones we saw too expensive, and I thought them too ordinary. Even so, we did agree in the end, and, in one of the quietest parts of Paris, decided on a modest lodge which was situated at a good distance from the main house. Behind this small lodge there was a delightful garden which was part of the property. It was enclosed by walls high enough to separate us from our neighbours, but not so high that they restricted the view. It was better than we had hoped for. While I went back to my apartment to arrange to vacate the premises, Marguerite went to see a dealer who, she said, had already done for one of her friends what she was now going to ask him to do for her. She came for me in the rue de provence, quite delighted. The man had promised to pay all her debts, give her a receipt in full, and let her have around twenty thousand francs in exchange for relinquishing all her furniture. You can see form the sum realized by the auction that this good man of business stood make upwards of thirty thousand francs out of his client. We set off back to Bougival in high spirits. As we went, we continued telling each other about our plans for the future which, with the help of our thoughtlessness but especially our love, we saw in the rosiest of lights. A week later, we were having lunch when Nanine came in and told me that my servant was asking for me. I told her to show him in. 'Sir, ' he said, 'your father has arrived in Paris, and asks you to return to your apartment at once. He's waiting for you there.' The news was the simplest thing imaginable, and yet, as we took it in, Marguerite and I exchanged looks. We scented trouble in this turn of events. Which was why, though she did not intimate to me anything of her reaction which I shared, I responded by holding out my hand to her: 'There's nothing to be afraid of.' 'Come back as soon as you can, ' murmured Marguerite as she kissed me. 'I'll be waiting by the window.' I sent Joseph on ahead to let my father know I was on my way. And two hours later, I was in my apartment in the rue de Provence. Contents PreviousChapter NextChapter 茶 花 女 第十九章 在前三封信里，父亲因我没有去信而担忧，他问我是什么原因。在最后一封信里，他暗示已经有人告诉他我生活上的变化，并通知我说不久他就要到巴黎来。 我素来很尊敬我的父亲，并对他怀有一种很真挚的感情。 因此我就回信给他说我所以不回信是因为作了一次短途旅行，并请他预先告诉我他到达的日期，以便我去接他。 我把我乡下的地址告诉了我的仆人，并嘱咐他一接到有C城邮戳的来信就送给我，随后我马上又回到布吉瓦尔。 玛格丽特在花园门口等我。 她的眼神显得很忧愁。她一把搂住我，情不自禁地问我： “你遇到普律当丝了吗？” “没有。” “你怎么在巴黎呆了这么久？” “我收到了父亲的几封信，我必须写回信给他。” 不一会儿，纳尼娜气喘吁吁地进来了。玛格丽特站起身来，走过去和她低声说了几句。 纳尼娜一出去，玛格丽特重新坐到我身旁，握住我的手对我说： “你为什么骗我？你到普律当丝家里去过了。” “谁对你说的？” “纳尼娜。” “她怎么知道的？” “她刚才跟着你去的。” “是你叫她跟着我的吗？” “是的。你已经有四个月没有离开我了，我想你到巴黎去一定有什么重要原因。我怕你发生了什么不幸，或是会不会去看别的女人。” “孩子气！” “现在我放心了，我知道你刚才做了些什么，但是我还不知道别人对你说了些什么。” 我把父亲的来信给玛格丽特看。 “我问你的不是这个，我想知道的是你为什么要到普律当丝家里去。” “去看看她。” “你撒谎，我的朋友。” “那么我是去问她你的马好了没有，你的披肩，你的首饰她还用不用。” 玛格丽特的脸刷地红了起来，但是她没有回答。 “因此，”我继续说，“我也就知道了你把你的马匹、披肩和钻石派了什么用场。” “那么你怪我了吗？” “我怪你怎么没有想到向我要你需要的东西。” “像我们这样的关系，如果做女人的还有一点点自尊心的话，她就应该忍受所有可能的牺牲，也决不向她的情人要钱，否则她的爱情就跟卖淫无异。你爱我，这我完全相信。但是你不知道那种爱我这样女人的爱情有多么脆弱。谁能料到呢？也许在某一个困难或者烦恼的日子里，你会把我们的爱情想象成一件精心策划的买卖。普律当丝喜欢多嘴。这些马我还有什么用？把它们卖了还可以省些开销，没有马我日子一样过，还可以省去一些饲养费，我唯一的要求就是你始终不渝的爱情。即使我没有马，没有披肩，没有钻石，你也一定会同样爱我的。” 这些话讲得泰然自若，我听得眼泪都快流出来了。 “但是，我的好玛格丽特，”我深情地紧握着我情妇的手回答说，“你很清楚，你这种牺牲，我总有一天会知道的，那时我怎么受得了。” “为什么受不了呢？” “因为，亲爱的孩子，我不愿意你因为爱我而牺牲你的首饰，哪怕牺牲一件也不行。我同样也不愿意在你感到为难或者厌烦的时候会想到，如果你跟别人同居的话，就不会发生这种情况了。我不愿意你因为跟了我而感到有一分钟的遗憾。几天以后，你的马匹、你的钻石和你的披肩都会归还给你，这些东西对你来说就像空气对生命一样是必不可少的。这也许是很可笑的，但是你生活得奢华比生活得朴素更使我心爱。” “那么说，你不再爱我了。” “你疯了！” “如果你爱我的话，你就让我用我的方式来爱你，不然的话，你就只能继续把我看成一个奢侈成性的姑娘，而老觉得不得不给我钱。你羞于接受我对你爱情的表白。你总是不由自主地想到总有一天要离开我，因此你小心翼翼，唯恐被人疑心，你是对的，我的朋友，但是我原来的希望还不仅于此。” 玛格丽特动了一下，想站起来，我拉住她对她说： “我希望你幸福，希望你没有什么可以埋怨我的，就这些。” “那么我们就要分手了！” “为什么，玛格丽特？谁能把我们分开？”我大声说道。 “你，你不愿让我知道你的景况，你要我保留我的虚荣心来满足你的虚荣心，你想保持我过去的奢侈生活，你想保持我们思想上的差距；你，总之，你不相信我对你的无私的爱情，不相信我愿意和你同甘共苦，有了你这笔财产我们本来可以一起生活得很幸福，但是你宁愿把自己弄得倾家荡产，你这种成见真是太根深蒂固了。你以为我会把你的爱情和车子、首饰相比吗？你以为我会把虚荣当作幸福吗？一个人心中没有爱情的时候可以满足于虚荣，但一旦有了爱情，虚荣就变得庸俗不堪了。你要代我偿清债务，把自己的钱花完，最后你来供养我！就算这样又能维持多长时间呢？两三个月？那时候再依我的办法去生活就太迟了，因为到那时你什么都得听我的，而一个正人君子是不屑于这样干的。现在你每年有八千到一万法郎的年金，有了这些钱我们就能过日子了。我卖掉我多余的东西，每年就会有两千利弗尔的收入。我们去租一套漂漂亮亮的小公寓，两个人住在里面。夏天我们到乡下玩玩，不要住像现在这样的房子，有一间够两个人住的小房间就行了。你无牵无挂，我自由自在，我们年纪还轻，看在上天的份上，阿尔芒，别让我再去过我从前那种迫不得已的生活吧。” 我无法回答，感激和深情的泪水糊住了我的眼睛，我扑在玛格丽特的怀抱之中。 “我原来想，”她接着说，“瞒着你把一切都安排好，把我的债还清，叫人把我的新居布置好。到十月份，我们回到巴黎的时候，一切都已就绪；不过既然普律当丝全都告诉你了，那你就得事前同意而不是事后承认……你能爱我到这般地步吗？” 对如此真挚的爱情是不可能拒绝的，我狂热地吻着玛格丽特的手对她说： “我一切都听你的。” 她所决定的计划就这样讲定了。 于是她快乐得像发了疯似的，她跳啊、唱啊，为她简朴的新居而庆祝，她已经和我商量在哪个街区寻找房子，里面又如何布置等等。 我看她对这个主意既高兴又骄傲，似乎这样一来我们就可以永不分离似的。 我也不愿意白受她的恩情。 转眼之间我就决定了今后的生活，我把我的财产作了安排，把我从母亲那里得来的年金赠给玛格丽特，为了报答我所接受的牺牲，这笔年金在我看来是远远不够的。 我自己留下了我父亲给我的每年五千法郎津贴，不管发生什么事情，靠它来过日子也足够了。 我瞒着玛格丽特作了这样的安排。因为我深信她一定会拒绝这笔赠与的。 这笔年金来自一座价值六万法郎的房子的抵押费。这座房子我从来也没有看见过。我所知道的只不过是每一季度，我父亲的公证人——我家的一位世交——都要凭我一张收据交给我七百五十法郎。 在玛格丽特和我回巴黎去找房子的那天，我找了这位公证人，问他我要把这笔年金转让给另外一个人我应该办些什么手续。 这位好心人以为我破产了，就询问我作出这个决定的原因。因为我迟早得告诉他我这次转让的受益人是谁，我想最好还是立即如实告诉他。 作为一个公证人或者一个朋友，他完全可以提出不同意见；但他毫无异议，他向我保证他一定尽量把事情办好。 我当然叮嘱他在我父亲面前要严守秘密。随后我回到玛格丽特身边，她在朱利?迪普拉家里等我。她宁愿到朱利家去而不愿意去听普律当丝的说教。 我们开始找房子。我们所看过的房子，玛格丽特全都认为太贵，而我却觉得太简陋。不过我们最后终于取得了一致意见，决定在巴黎最清静的一个街区租一幢小房子，这幢小房子是一座大房子的附属部分，但是是独立的。 在这幢小房子后面还附有一个美丽的小花园，花园四周的围墙高低适宜，既能把我们跟邻居隔开，又不妨碍视线。 这比我们原来希望的要好。 我回家去把我原来那套房子退掉，在这期间，玛格丽特到一个经纪人那儿去了。据她说，这个人曾经为她的一个朋友办过一些她现在去请他办的事。 她非常高兴地又回到普罗旺斯街来找我。这个经纪人同意替她了清一切债务，把结清的帐单交给她，再给她两万法郎，作为她放弃所有家具的代价。 您已经看到了，从出售的价格来看，这个老实人大概赚了他主顾三万多法郎。 我们又欢欢喜喜地回到布吉瓦尔去，继续商量今后的计划。由于我们无忧无虑，特别是我们情深似海，我们总觉得前景无限美好。 一个星期以后，有一天正当我们在吃午饭的时候，纳尼娜突然进来对我说，我的仆人要见我。 我叫他进来。 “先生，”他对我说，“您父亲已经到巴黎来了，他请您马上回家，他在那里等您。” 这个消息本来是再平常不过的事情，但是，玛格丽特和我听了却面面相觑。 我们猜想有大祸临头了。 因此，尽管她没有把我们所共有的想法告诉我，我把手伸给她，回答她说： “什么也别怕。” “你尽量早点回来，”玛格丽特吻着我喃喃地说，“我在窗口等你。” 我派约瑟夫去对我父亲说我马上就到。 果然，两小时以后，我已经到了普罗旺斯街。

Chapter 18 TO tell you of our new life in any detail would be no easy matter. It was made up of a series of frivolous diversions which, though delightful to us, would be quite meaningless to anyone who heard me recount them. You know what it is to love a woman. You know how short the days seem and how loving the ease with which you let yourself drift towards the morrow. You are acquainted with that general neglect of things which is bred of violent, trusting, requited love. Any mortal being who is not the woman you love seems superfluous to creation. You regret having tossed pieces of your heart to other women, and you cannot imagine the prospect of ever holding a hand which is not the hand that you now hold clasped in yours. Your brain will entertain neither work nor memories, nor anything which might divert it from the one thought with which it is endlessly regaled. Each day you discover some new attraction in your mistress, some unknown sensual delight. Life is no more than the repeated fulfilling of a permanent desire. The soul is merely the vestal handmaid whose task is to keep the sacred flame of love burning. Often, after dark, we would go and sit in the little wood which overlooked the house. There we listened to the happy song of evening as we both thought of the approaching moment which would leave us in each other's arms till morning. At other times, we would stay in bed all day and not let even the sun into our bedroom. The curtains would be tightly drawn, and for us the world outside momentarily stopped turning. Nanine alone was authorized to open our door, but only to bring us our meals? and even so we ate them without getting up, and interrupted them constantly with laughter and all kinds of foolishness. And then would follow a few moments of sleep, for, retreating completely into our love, we were like two persistent divers who return to the surface only to take breath. However, I would catch Marguerite looking sad, and sometimes there were tears in her eyes. I would ask what was the reason for her sudden dejection and she would answer: 'This love of ours, my dearest Armand, is no ordinary love. You love me as though I'd never belonged to anyone else, and I tremble for fear that with time, regretting that you ever loved me and turning my past into a crime to hold against me, you might force me to resume the life from which you took me. Remember this: now that I've tasted a new kind of life, I should die if I had to take up the old one. So tell me you'll never leave me.' 'I swear it!' At this, she would stare at me, as though she could read in my eyes whether my oath was sincere. Then she would throw herself into my arms and, burying her head in my chest, say: 'It's just that you have no idea how much I love you!' One evening, we were leaning over the balcony outside our window. We gazed at the moon struggling to rise from its bed of clouds. We listened to the noise of the wind as it shook the trees. We held hands, and had not spoken for a good quarter of an hour when Marguerite said: 'Winter's coming. Would you like us to go away?' 'Where would we go?' 'Italy.' 'Are you bored here?' 'I'm afraid of winter. And I'm even more afraid of our going back to Paris.' 'Why?' 'Lots of reasons.' And she went on quickly, without explaining the reasons for her fears: 'Do you want to leave this place? I'll sell everything I have. We'll go and live far away. There'll be nothing left of the person I used to be. No one will know who I am. Would you like that?' 'We'll go, if that's what you want, Let's travel, 'I said, 'but why the need to sell things you'll be glad to have when we get back? I haven't got enough money to accept a sacrifice like that, but I do have enough for us to travel in style for five or six months, if you fancy the idea at all. ' 'If that's the way of it, no, ' she continued, leaving the window and moving to the sofa in the dark shadow of the bedroom. 'What's the point of going all that way to spend money? I cost you enough here as it is.' 'That sounds like a reproach, Marguerite. You're being ungracious.' 'Forgive me, my dear, ' she said, holding out her hand to me, 'this stormy weather makes me irritable. I'm not saying what I mean. ' And, after kissing me, she sat for a long time, lost in thought. Scenes like this occurred on several occasions and, though I remained ignorant as to their cause, I nevertheless sensed in Marguerite a feeling of anxiety for the future. It was not that she could have any doubts about my love for her, for it grew deeper with each passing day. And yet I often saw that she was sad, though she never explained why she was sad other than by alleging some physical reason. Fearing that she would weary of too monotonous a life, I suggested that we might return to Paris, but she invariably rejected the suggestion, and assured me that she could not be as happy anywhere as she was in the country. Prudence made only rare visits now. On the other hand, she wrote a number of letters which I never asked to see, although each one left Marguerite deeply preoccupied. I did not know what to make of it. One day, Marguerite remained in her room. I entered. She was writing. 'Who are you writing to?' I asked her. 'Prudence. Do you want me to read out what I've written?' I had a profound distaste for anything that could seem like suspiciousness. So I answered Marguerite saying that there was no need for me to know what she was writing. And yet, I was sure of it, that letter would have acquainted me with the real reason for her fits of sadness. The next day, the weather was superb. Marguerite suggested that we might take a boat out on the river and visit the lle de Croissy. She seemed in the best of spirits. It was five o'clock by the time we got back. 'Madame Duvernoy came, ' said Nanine as soon as she saw us come in. 'Did she go away again?' asked Marguerite. 'Yes, in Madame's carriage. She said it was all right to take it.' 'Very good, ' said Marguerite quickly. 'Let dinner be served at once.' Two days later, there was a letter from Prudence, and for the next fortnight Marguerite seemed to have done with her mysterious sad moods, for which she never stopped asking me to forgive her now that they had ceased. However, the carriage did not come back. 'How is it that Prudence hasn't returned your brougham?' I asked one day. 'One of the horses is sick, and the carriage needs some repairs. It's better for all that to be done while we are still here where we don't need a carriage, than to wait until we get back to Paris.' Prudence came down to see us a few days after this and confirmed what Marguerite had told me. The two women went for a stroll by themselves in the garden, and when I joined them they changed the subject they had been discussing. That evening, as she was going, Prudence complained of the cold and asked Marguerite to lend her an Indian shawl. And so a month went by during which Marguerite was gayer and more loving than she had ever been. However, the carriage had not come back, and the Indian shawl had not been returned. All this puzzled me in spite of myself and, since I knew in which drawer Marguerite kept Prudence's letters, I took advantage of a moment when she was at the bottom of the garden, hurried to the drawer and tried to open it. But it was no use: it was double-locked. I then searched through the drawers where her trinkets and diamonds were normally kept. They opened without difficulty, but the jewel-cases had disappeared ?along with their contents, naturally. A pang of fear shot through my heart. I was about to go and ask Marguerite to tell me exactly why these items were missing. But I knew for certain that she would not admit the truth. So I said: 'My dear Marguerite, I want to ask if it's all right for me to go up to town. No one where I live knows where I am, and there must have been letters from my father. I expect he's worried. I must write to him.' 'Go, my dear, ' she said. 'But be back soon.' I left. I hurried round to Prudence's at once. 'Look here, ' I said, without preamble of any sort, 'answer me frankly: where are Marguerite's horses?' 'Sold.' 'Her shawl?' 'Sold.' 'The diamonds?' 'Pawned.' 'And who did the selling and the pawning?' 'I did.' 'Why didn't you tell me about all this?' 'Because Marguerite ordered me not to.' 'And why didn't you ask me for money?' 'Because she wouldn't let me.' 'And what's the money been spent on?' 'Paying debts.' 'So she owes great deal?' 'There's thirty thousand francs or so outstanding. I told you, dear, didn't I? You just wouldn't believe me. Well then, are you convinced now? The upholsterer, who had the Duke as her guarantor, was shown the door when he went to see the Duke who wrote him a letter the next day saying that he wouldn't lift a finger for Mademoiselle Gautier. The man wanted money. He was given something on account? the few thousand francs I asked you for. Then some kind souls let him know that his non-paying customer had been dropped by the Duke and was living with some young man who had no money. The other creditors were likewise told. They demanded money, and repossessed some of their goods. Marguerite wanted to sell everything, but it was too late and, besides, I should have been against it. She had to pay of course, and to avoid asking you for money, she sold her horses and her Indian shawls and pawned her jewels. Do you want the buyers' receipts and the pawn tickets?' And, pulling out a drawer, Prudence showed me the papers. 'Do you imagine, ' she continued, as persistent as any woman who is entitled to say: 'I was right!' 'do you imagine that it's enough to love each other and go off to the country and live some dreamy, rustic life? Oh no, my dear. Alongside the ideal life, there's the necessities to think of, and the purest designs are earthbound, secured by threads which, ludicrous though they may be, are made of steel and cannot be easily snapped. If Marguerite hasn't deceived you twenty times and more it's because she has an exceptional nature. It's not her fault if I advised her to do so, because it grieved me to see the poor girl strip herself of everything. And she wouldn't have anything to do with it! She told me she loved you and wouldn't deceive you for anything. All that's very nice, very poetic, but it's not coin you can pay off criditors with. And now she's reached the stage where she won't get away with it unless she comes up with, let me say it again, thirty thousand francs.' 'It's all right. I'll find the money.' 'You'll borrow it?' 'But of course.' 'Now that would be really clever. You'll fall out with your father, tie up your allowance and, anyway, you can't just come up with thirty thousand francs from one day to the next. Take it from me, my dear Armand, I know women better than you do. Don't do it: it would be sheer folly and you'd regret it some day. Be reasonable. I don't say you should leave Marguerite; just live with her on the same footing as at the start of the summer. Let her find ways out of this mess. The Duke will come round gradually. Count de N, if she takes him on, he was telling me just yesterday, will pay all her debts and give her four or five thousand francs a month. He's got two hundred thousand livres a year. She'll be set up, whereas you're going to have to leave her in any case: don't wait until you're ruined, especially since this Count de N is a fool and there'll be nothing to stop you being Marguerite's lover. She'll cry a little to start with, but she'll get used to it in the end, and she'll thank you one day for what you did. Tell yourself that Marguerite's married, and then deceive her husband. That's all there's to it. 'I've already told you all this once. But then I was just giving you advice. Today, you've got very little option.' Prudence was right, cruelly right. 'That's how it is, ' she continued, shutting away the papers she had just shown me. 'Kept women always expect that there'll be men around who'll love them, but they never imagine that they themselves will fall in love. Otherwise, they'd put a bit to one side and, by the time they're thirty, they'd be able to afford the luxury of taking a lover who pays nothing. If only I'd known once what I know once what I know now! But that's by the by. Don't say anything to Marguerite; just bring her back to Paris. You've had four or five months alone with her, which isn't bad. Turn a blind eye, that's all you're asked to do. Within a fortnight, she'll take on Count de N, she'll put some money by this winter, and then next summer you can pick up where you left off. That's how it's done, my dear!' Prudence seemed delighted with her advice, which I rejected indignantly. Not only did love and self-respect make it impossible for me to act along these lines, but I was further convinced that, having got to the stage she had now reached, Marguerite would rather die than accept such an arrangement. 'Enough of this nonsense, ' I told Prudence. 'How much exactly does Marguerite need?' 'I told you. Around thirty thousand francs.' 'And when must she have it?' 'Within two months.' 'She'll have it.' Prudence shrugged her shoulders. 'I'll get it to you, ' I continued. 'But you must swear you'll never tell Marguerite that I gave it to you.' 'Don't worry, I won't.' 'And if she sends you anything else to sell or pawn, let me know.' 'There's no danger of that. She's got nothing left.' From there, I went to my apartment to see if there were any letters from my father. There were four. 第十八章 要把我们新生活中的琐事详详细细地告诉您是不容易的。这种生活对我们来说是一些孩子般的嬉戏，我们觉得十分有趣，但是对听我讲这个故事的人来说，却是不值一提的。您知道爱一个女人是怎么一回事，您知道白天是怎么匆匆而过，晚上又是怎样地相亲相爱，难舍难分。您不会不知道共同分享和相互信赖的热烈爱情，可以把一切事物搁置脑后；在这个世界上，除了这个自己爱恋着的女人，其他似乎全属多余。我在后悔过去曾经在别的女人身上用过一番心思；我看不到除了自己手里捏着的手以外，还有什么可能去握别人的手。我的头脑里既不思索，也不回忆，心里唯有一个念头，凡是可能影响这个念头的思想都不能接受。每天我都会在自己情妇身上发现一种新的魅力和一种前所未有的快感。 人生只不过是为了满足不断的欲望，灵魂只不过是维持爱情圣火的守灶女神。① ①罗马灶神庙中拿着圣火日夜守伺的童贞女。 到了晚上，我们经常坐在可以俯视我们房子的小树林里，倾听着夜晚和谐悦耳的天籁，同时两人都在想着不久又可相互拥抱直到明天。有时我们整天睡在床上，甚至连阳光都不让透进房来。窗帘紧闭着，外界对于我们来说，暂时停止了活动。只有纳尼娜才有权打开我们的房门，但也只是为了送东西给我们吃；我们就在床上吃，还不停地痴笑和嬉闹。接着又再打一会儿瞌睡。我们就像沉没在爱河之中的两个顽强的潜水员，只是在换气的时候才浮出水面。 但是，有时候玛格丽特显得很忧愁，有几次甚至还流着眼泪，这使我感到奇怪。我问她为什么忽然这么悲伤，她回答我说： “我们的爱情不是普通的爱情，我亲爱的阿尔芒。你就像我从来没有失身于别人似的爱我，但是我非常害怕你不久就会对你的爱情感到后悔，把我的过去当作罪恶。我怕你强迫我去重操你曾让我脱离的旧业。想想现在我尝到的新生活的滋味，要我再去过从前的生活，我会死的。告诉我你永远不再离开我了。” “我向你发誓！” 听到这句话，她仔细地端详着我，似乎要从我眼睛里看出我的誓言是不是真诚，随后她扑在我的怀里，把头埋在我的心窝里，对我说： “你真不知道我是多么爱你啊！” 一天傍晚，我们靠在窗台的栏杆上，凝望着浮云掩映着的月亮，倾听着被阵风摇曳着的树木的沙沙声，我们手握着手，沉默了好一阵子，突然玛格丽特对我说： “冬天快到了，我们离开这儿吧，你说好吗？” “到哪里去？” “到意大利去。” “那么你觉得在这儿呆腻了？” “我怕冬天，我更怕回到巴黎去。” “为什么呢？” “原因很多。” 她没有告诉我她惧怕的原因，却突然接下去说： “你愿意离开这里吗？我把我所有的东西统统卖掉，一起到那里去生活，丝毫不留下我过去的痕迹。谁也不会知道我是谁。你愿意吗？” “玛格丽特，如果你喜欢的话，我们走吧，我们去作一次旅行。”我对她说，“但是有什么必要变卖东西呢？你回来时看到这些东西不是很高兴吗？我没有足够的财产来接受你这种牺牲，但是像像样样地作一次五、六个月的旅行，我的钱还是绰绰有余的，只要能讨你哪怕是一丁点儿喜欢的话。” “还是不去的好，”她离开窗子继续说，一面走过去坐在房间阴暗处的长沙发椅上，“到那里去花钱有什么意思？我在这儿已经花了你不少钱了。” “你是在埋怨我，玛格丽特，这可不公道啊！” “请原谅，朋友，”她伸手给我说，“这种暴风雨天气使我精神不愉快；我讲的并不是我心里想的话。” 说着她吻了我一下，随后又陷入沉思。 类似这样的情景发生过好几次，虽然我不知道她产生这些想法的原因是什么，但是我很清楚玛格丽特是在担忧未来。她是不会怀疑我的爱情的，因为我越来越爱她了。但是我经常看到她忧心忡忡，她除了推诿说身体不佳之外，从来不告诉我她忧愁的原因。 我怕她对这种过于单调的生活感到厌倦，就建议她回到巴黎去，但她总是一口拒绝，并一再对我说没有地方能比乡下使她感到更加快乐。 普律当丝现在不常来了，但是她经常来信，虽然玛格丽特一收到信就心事重重，我也从来没有要求看看这些信，我猜不出这些信的内容。 一天，玛格丽特在她房间里，我走了进去，她正在写信。 “你写信给谁？”我问她。 “写给普律当丝，要不要我把信念给你听听？” 一切看来像是猜疑的事情我都很憎恶，因此我回答玛格丽特说，我不需要知道她写些什么，但是我可以断定这封信能告诉我她忧愁的真正原因。 第二天，天气非常好，玛格丽特提出要乘船去克罗瓦西岛玩，她似乎非常高兴。我们回家时已经五点钟了。 “迪韦尔诺瓦太太来过了，”纳尼娜看见我们进门就说。 “她走了吗？”玛格丽特问道。 “走了，坐夫人的车子走的，她说这是讲好了的。” “很好，”玛格丽特急切地说，“吩咐下去给我们开饭。” 两天以后，普律当丝来了一封信，以后的两周里，玛格丽特已经不再那么莫名其妙地发愁了，而且还不断地要求我为这件事原谅她。 但是马车没有回来。 “普律当丝怎么不把你的马车送回来？”有一天我问。 “那两匹马里有一匹病了，车子还要修理。反正这里用不着坐车子，趁我们还没有回巴黎之前把它修修好不是很好吗？” 几天以后，普律当丝来看望我们，她向我证实了玛格丽特对我讲的话。 两个女人在花园里散步，当我向她们走去的时候，她们就把话题扯开去了。 晚上普律当丝告辞的时候，抱怨天气太冷，要求玛格丽特把开司米披肩借给她。 一个月就这样过去了，在这一个月里玛格丽特比过去任何时候都要快乐，也更加爱我了。 但是马车没再回来，披肩也没有送回来。凡此种种不由得使我起了疑心。我知道玛格丽特存放普律当丝来信的抽屉，趁她在花园里的时候，我跑到这个抽屉跟前。我想打开看看，但是打不开，抽屉锁得紧紧的。 接着我开始搜寻那些她平时盛放首饰和钻石的抽屉，这些抽屉一下就打开了，但是首饰盒不见了，盒子里面的东西不用说也没有了。 一阵恐惧猛地袭上了我的心头。 我想去问玛格丽特这些东西究竟到哪儿去了，但是她肯定不会对我说实话的。 “我的好玛格丽特，”于是我这样对她说，“我来请求你允许我到巴黎去一次。我家里的人还不知道我在哪里，我父亲也该来信了，他一定在挂念我，我一定要给他写封回信。” “去吧，我的朋友，”她对我说，“但是要早点回来。” 我走了。 我立即跑到普律当丝的家里。 “啊，”我开门见山地跟她说，“您老实告诉我，玛格丽特的马车到哪儿去了？” “卖掉了。” “披肩呢？” “卖掉了。” “钻石呢？” “当掉了。” “是谁去替她卖的？是谁去替她当的？” “是我。” “为什么不告诉我。” “因为玛格丽特不准我告诉您。” “那您为什么不向我要钱呢？” “因为她不愿意。” “那么这些钱派了什么用场呢？” “还账。” “她还欠人家很多钱吗？” “还欠三万法郎左右。啊！我亲爱的，我不是早就跟您讲过了吗？您不肯相信我的话，那么现在总该相信了吧。原来由公爵作保的地毯商去找公爵的时候吃了闭门羹，第二天公爵写信告诉他说他不管戈蒂埃小姐的事了。这个商人来要钱，只好分期付给他，我向您要的那几千法郎就是付给他的。后来一些好心人提醒他说，他的债务人已经被公爵抛弃了，她正在跟一个没有财产的青年过日子；别的债权人也接到了同样的通知，他们也来讨债，来查封玛格丽特的财产。玛格丽特本来想把什么都卖掉，但是时间来不及，何况我也反对她这样做。帐是一定得还的，为了不向您要钱，她卖掉了马匹和开司米披肩，当掉了首饰。您要不要看看买主的收据和当铺的当票？” 于是普律当丝打开一只抽屉给我看了这些票据。 “啊！您相信了吧！”她用有权利说“我是有理的”那种女人的洋洋自得的口气接着说，“啊！您以为只要相亲相爱就够了吗？您以为只要一起到乡下去过那种梦一般的田园生活就行了吗？不行的，我的朋友，不行的。除了这种理想生活，还有物质生活，最纯洁的决心都会有一些庸俗可笑、但又是铁铸成的链索把它拴在这个地上，这些链索是不容易挣断的。如果说玛格丽特从来不骗您，那是因为她的性格与众不同。我劝她并没有劝错，因为我不忍心看到一个可怜的姑娘吃尽当光。她不听我的话！她回答我说她爱您，绝不欺骗您。这真是太美了，太富有诗意了，但这些都不能当作钱来还给债主的呀。我再跟您说一遍，眼下她没有三万法郎是没法过门的。” “好吧，这笔钱我来付。” “您去借吗？” “是啊，老天。” “您可要干出好事来了，您要跟您父亲闹翻的，他会断绝您的生活来源，再说三万法郎也不是一两天内筹划得到的。相信我吧，亲爱的阿尔芒，我对女人可比您了解得多。别干这种傻事，总有一天您会后悔的。您要理智一些，我不是叫您跟玛格丽特分手，不过您要像夏天开始时那样跟她生活。让她自己去设法摆脱困境。公爵慢慢地会来找她的。N伯爵昨天还在对我说，如果玛格丽特肯接待他的话，他要替她还清所有的债务，每月再给她四五千法郎。他有二十万利弗尔的年金。这对她来说可算是一个依靠，而您呢，您迟早要离开她的；您不要等到破了产再这样做，何况这位N伯爵是个笨蛋，您完全可以继续做玛格丽特的情人。开始时她会伤心一阵子的，但最后还是会习惯的，您这样做了，她总有一天会感谢您的。您就把玛格丽特当作是有夫之妇，您欺骗的是她的丈夫，就是这么回事。 “这些话我已经跟您讲过一遍了，那时候还不过是一个忠告，而现在已几乎非这样做不行了。” 普律当丝讲的话虽然难听，但非常有道理。 “就是这么回事，”她一面收起刚才给我看的票据，一面继续对我说，“做妓女的专等人家来爱她们，而她们永远也不会去爱人；要不然，她们就要攒钱，以便到了三十岁的时候，她们就可以为一个一无所有的情人这么个奢侈品而自己掏腰包。如果我早知今日有多好啊，我！总之，您什么也别跟玛格丽特说，把她带回巴黎来。您和她已经一起过了四五个月了，这已经够好的了；眼开眼闭，这就是对您的要求。半个月以后她就会接待N伯爵。今年冬天她节约一些，明年夏天你们就可以再过这种生活。事情就是这么干的，我亲爱的。” 普律当丝似乎对她自己的一番劝告很得意，我却恼怒地拒绝了。 不单是我的爱情和我的尊严不允许我这样做，而且我深信玛格丽特是宁死也不肯再过以前那种人尽可夫的生活了。 “别开玩笑了，”我对普律当丝说，“玛格丽特到底需要多少钱？” “我跟您讲过了，三万法郎左右。” “这笔款子什么时候要呢？” “两个月以内。” “她会有的。” 普律当丝耸了耸肩膀。 “我会交给您的，”我继续说，“但是您要发誓不告诉玛格丽特是我给您的。” “放心好了。” “如果她再托您卖掉或者当掉什么东西，您就来告诉我。” “不用操心，她已什么也没有了。” 我先回到家里看看有没有我父亲的来信。 有四封。

Chapter 17 THE next day, Marguerite sent me away punctually, saying that the Duke was expected early that morning, and promising to write the moment he left to let me know where we should meet in the evening. Accordingly, during the day, I received this note: 'Am going to Bougival with the Duke. Be at Prudence's this evening at eight.' At the appointed time, Marguerite was back and she came to meet me at Madame Duvernoy's. 'Well, it's all arranged, ' she said as she came in. 'The house is taken?' asked Prudence. 'Yes. He agreed at once.' I did not know the Duke, but I was ashamed to be deceiving him like this. 'But that's not all, ' Marguerite went on. 'There's more?' 'I was worried about where Armand could stay.' 'Not in the same house?' asked Prudence with a laugh. 'No, at the Point du Jour, where the Duke and I had lunch. While he was looking at the view, I asked Madame Arnould ?she is called Madame Arnould, isn't she? I asked her if she had any suitable apartments. And she has one, with a drawing-room, a reception room and a bedroom. That's all we need, I'd say. Sixty francs a month. The whole place furnished in a manner that would take a hypochondriac's mind off his ailments. I took it. Did I do well?' I flung my arms around Marguerite's neck. 'It'll be lovely, ' she went on. 'You'll have a key to the side door, and I promised the Duke that he shall have a key to the main gate which he won't take since he'll only ever come during the day when he comes at all. Between ourselves, I think he's delighted by this whim of mine, for it'll get me out of Paris for a while and help to shut his family up. Even so, he did ask how it was that I, who love Paris so much, could make up my mind to bury myself in the country. I told him I wasn't well and this way I could rest. He didn't seem to believe me altogether. The poor old thing always seems to have his back against a wall. So we will be very careful, dear Armand, because he'll have me watched there. And he's not done with just renting a house for me: he's also going to have to pay my debts and, unfortunately, I've a few of those. Is all this all right with you?' 'Yes, ' I replied, trying to silence the scruples which this kind of life a wakened from time to time. 'We went over the house from top to bottom, and it will be just perfect for us. The Duke fussed over everything. Ah, my dear, ' she added, kissing me like a mad thing, 'you can't complain, you've got a millionaire to make you bed for you.' 'And when are you thinking of moving down there?' asked Prudence. 'As soon as possible.' 'Will you be taking your carriage and the horses?' 'I shall be taking everything. You can look after the apartment while I'm away.' A week later, Marguerite had taken possession of the house in the country and I was installed at the Point du Jour. And so began a life which I could hardly attempt to describe to you. In the early days of her stay at Bougival, Marguerite was unable to make a complete break with her old ways and, since the house was always in a party mood, all her girlfriends came down to see her. A month went by without a single day when Marguerite did not have eight or ten people sitting round her table. For her part, Prudence invited along everybody she knew and did all the honours of the house, as though the place belonged to her. The Duke's money paid for it all, as you will have gathered, yet even so Prudence was apt to ask me, from time to time, for the odd thousand- franc note, saying that it was for Marguerite. As you know, I had won some money at the gaming table. So I promptly handed over to Prudence what Marguerite, through her, had asked me for, and, fearing that she might need more than I had, I travelled up to Paris where I borrowed the equivalent of the sum of money which I had borrowed before and had repaid in full. I thus found myself rich once more to the tune of ten thousand francs or so, in addition to my allowance. However, the pleasure Marguerite derived from playing host to her women friends slackened off somewhat in view of the expense it involved, and especially in view of the fact that she was on occasion forced to ask me for money. The Duke, who had leased the house so that Marguerite could rest, stopped coming altogether, fearing as always that he would run into a large and high- spirited gathering of people by whom he had no wish to be seen. The reason largely for this was that, turning up one day for a private dinner with Marguerite, he had wandered into the middle of a luncheon party for fifteen which was still going on at a time when he had imagined he would be sitting down to his dinner. When, all unsuspecting, he had opened the dining-room door, his entrance had been greeted by a burst of laughter, and he had been obliged to withdraw hurriedly in the face of the withering glee of the girls who were there. Marguerite had left the table, caught up with the Duke in the next room and had done everything she could to make him overlook the incident. But the old man's pride had been wounded, and he had taken umbrage: he had told the poor girl quite cruelly that he was tired of footing the bill for the follies of a woman who could not even ensure that he was respected under her roof, and he had left very angry. From that day on, we heard nothing more of him. Marguerite sent her guests away and changed her ways, but it did no good: the Duke did not contact her thereafter. I had gained thereby, for my mistress now belonged to me more completely, and my dream was at last coming true. Marguerite could no longer live without me. Without worrying her head about the consequence, she flaunted our affair publicly, and I reached the point where I never left her house. The servants called me ' sir' and regarded me officially as their master. Of course, Prudence had lectured Marguerite about her new life very sternly, but Marguerite had replied that she loved me, could not live without me and, however it all turned out, would not forgo the joy of having me constantly at her side. And she added that anyone who did not like it was perfectly free to stay away. I had heard this for myself one day when Prudence told Marguerite that she had something very important to say to her, and I had listened at the door of the bedroom in which they had closeted themselves. Some days later, Prudence came down to see us again. I was at the bottom of the garden when she arrived. She did not see me. Judging by the way Marguerite had gone to meet her, I suspected that another conversation like the one I had already overheard was about to take place, and I was no less anxious to hear what was said. The two women shut themselves in a parlour and I took up my position. 'Well?' asked Marguerite. 'Well now, I saw the Duke.' 'What did he say?' 'He said he was quite ready to forgive that first scene, but he'd found out that you were living openly with Monsieur Armand Duval. He couldn't forgive that.' "If Marguerite leaves this young man," he told me, "I'll give her anything she wants, as in the past. If she doesn't, she can stop asking me for anything."' 'What did you say to that?' 'I said I'd pass on his decision, and I promised I'd make you see sense. Just think, dear girl, of the niche you'll be losing. Armand will never be able to make it up to you. He loves you with all his soul, but he doesn't have the money to pay for everything you need, and some day he's bound to leave you ?when it'll be too late, and the Duke won't want to lend any more helping hands. Do you want me to speak to Armand?' Marguerite seemed to be thinking, for she did not reply. My heart beat violently as I waited for her answer. 'No, ' she resumed, 'I shall not leave Armand, and I shan't hide myself away so that I can go on living with him. Madness it may be, but I love him, there it is! And anyway, he's got into the habit of loving me without anything standing in his way. It would be much too painful for him to have to leave me for even an hour a day. Besides, I haven't got so much time to live that I can afford to make myself miserable just to please an old man: the very sight of him makes me feel old. Let him keep his money. I'll manage without.' 'But what will you do?' 'I have no idea.' Prudence was probably about to reply to this, but I burst in, ran across to Marguerite and threw myself at her feet, covering her hands with the tears which the joy of being loved made me shed. 'My life is yours, Marguerite, You don't need this man: am I not here? How could I ever desert you? How could I ever repay the happiness you give me? Away with all constraints, dearest Marguerite! We love each other! What does the rest matter?' 'Oh yes! I do love you, my Armand!' she murmured, circling my neck with both arms, 'I love you as I never believed I could love anybody. We will be happy, we'll live in peace, and I'll say goodbye forever to the old life I'm so ashamed of now. You'll never hold my past against me, will you?' The tears dimmed my voice. The only answer I could give was to clasp Marguerite to my heart. 'Come, ' she said, turning to Prudence, her voice tinged with emotion, 'you can go and report this scene to the Duke and, while you're at it, tell him we don't need him.' From that day on, the Duke was never mentioned again. Marguerite was no longer the girl I had met. She avoided anything which might have reminded me of the life she had been leading when I first made her acquaintance. Never did wife or sister show husband or brother such love, such consideration as she showed me. Her state of health left her open to sensation, and made her vulnerable to her feelings. She had broken with her women friends just as she had broken with her old ways; she controlled her language just as she curbed the old extravagance. Had you observed us leave the house for an outing in a delightful little boat I had bought, you would never have thought that this woman in a white dress, wearing a large straw hat and carrying on her arm a simple fur-lined silk coat which would protect her against the chill of the water, was the same Marguerite Gautier who, four months before, had attracted such attention with her extravagant ways and scandalous conduct. Alas! we made haste to be happy, as though we had sensed that we should not be happy for long. We had not set foot in Paris for two months. No one had come down to see us, except Prudence and the same Julie Duprat whom I have already mentioned as the person in whose keeping Marguerite would later place the moving story now in my possession. I spent whole days at my mistress's feet. We would open the windows overlooking the garden and, as we watched the bright summer swoop down and open the flowers and settle under the trees, we would sit side by side and drink in this real, live world which neither Marguerite nor I had understood before. She reacted with childish wonder to the most trivial things. There were days when she ran round the garden, like a girl of ten, chasing a butterfly or a dragonfly. This courtesan, who had made men spend more on flowers than would be needed to enable a whole family to live without a care, would sometimes sit on the lawn for an hour on end, examining the simple flower whose name she bore. It was at this time that she read Manon Lescaut so frequently. Many a time, I caught her writing in the margin of the book. And she always said that if a woman is truly in love, then that woman could never do what Manon did. The Duke wrote to her two or three times. She recognized his writing and gave me his letters unread. On occasions, the wording of his letters brought tears to my eyes. He had thought that, by closing his purse to Marguerite, he could make her go back to him. But when he saw how ineffective his stratagem was, he was unable to carry it through. He had written, again asking her, as he had asked in the past, to allow him back to the fold, whatever conditions she chose to set for his return. I thus had read his pressing, repeated letters and had torn them up, without telling Marguerite what they said or advising her to see the old man again? though a feeling of pity for the poor man's unhappiness did tempt me to do so. But I was afraid that she would see in my urging no more than a wish on my part to see the Duke resume his old visits, and thereby to see him assume responsibility once more for the household expenses. And above all, I feared that she would conclude that her love for me might lead to situations in which I would be capable of repudiating my responsibilities for her existence. The outcome was that the Duke, continuing to receive no answer, eventually stopped writing, and Marguerite and I continued our life together without a thought for the future. 第十七章 第二天，玛格丽特很早就打发我走了，她对我说公爵一大早就要来，并答应我公爵一离开就写信通知我像每天晚上那样都要相会的时间和地点。 果然，我在白天就收到了这封信。 我和公爵一起到布吉瓦尔去了；晚上八点到普律当丝家里等我。 玛格丽特准时回来了，并到迪韦尔诺瓦太太家里来会我。 “行啦，一切都安排好了，”她进来的时候说。 “房子租下来了吗？”普律当丝问道。 “租下来了，一说他就同意了。” 我不认识公爵，但是像我这样欺骗他，我感到羞耻。 “不过还没有完哪！”玛格丽特又说。 “还有什么事？” “我在考虑阿尔芒的住处。” “不是跟您住在一起吗？”普律当丝笑着问道。 “不，他住在我和公爵一起吃午饭的曙光饭店里。在公爵观赏风景的时候，我问阿尔努太太，她不是叫阿尔努太太吗？我问她有没有合适的房间可供出租，她正好有一套，包括客厅、会客室和卧室。我想，这样就什么都不缺了，六十法郎一个月，房间里的陈设即使一个生忧郁病的人看了也会高兴起来的。我租下了这套房间，我干得好吗？” 我紧紧拥抱玛格丽特。 “这真太妙了，”她继续说，“您拿着小门上的钥匙，我答应把栅栏门的钥匙给公爵，不过他不会要的，因为他即使来也只是在白天。说实在的，我想他对我突然要离开巴黎一段时间的想法一定觉得很高兴，这样也可以使他家里少说些闲话。但是他问我，我这么热爱巴黎，怎么会决定隐居到乡下去的。我告诉他说，因为我身体不好，要到乡下去休养，他似乎不太相信我的话。这个可怜的老头儿经常听到有人说闲话，所以我们要多加小心，我亲爱的阿尔芒。因为他会派人在那儿监视我的，我不单要他为我租一座房子，我还要他替我还债呢，因为倒霉得很，我还欠着一些债。您看这样安排对您合适吗？” “合适，”我回答说，我对这样的生活安排总觉得不是滋味，但我忍住不说出来。 “我们仔仔细细地参观了这座房子，将来我们住在那里一定非常称心。公爵样样都想到了。啊！亲爱的，”她快乐得像疯了似的搂住我说，“您真福气，有一个百万富翁为您铺床呢。” “那您什么时候搬过去？”普律当丝问。 “越早越好。” “您把车马也带去吗？” “我把家里的东西全都搬去，我不在家时您替我看家。” 一星期以后，玛格丽特搬进了乡下那座房子，我就住在曙光饭店。 从此便开始了一段我很难向您描述的生活。 刚在布吉瓦尔住下的时候，玛格丽特还不能完全丢掉旧习惯，她家里天天像过节一样，所有的女朋友都来看她，在整整一个月里面，每天总有十来个人在玛格丽特家里吃饭，普律当丝也把她的相识全带来了，还请他们参观房子，就像房子是她自己的一样。 就像您想象的一样，所有的开销都是公爵支付的，然而普律当丝却不时以玛格丽特的名义向我要一张一千法郎的钞票。您知道我赌钱时赢了一些，我急忙把玛格丽特托她向我要的钱交给她，还生怕我的钱不够她的需要，于是我就到巴黎去借了一笔钱，数目和我过去曾经借过的相同，当然过去那笔钱我早已及时如数还清了。 于是我身边又有了一万左右法郎，我的津贴费还不算在内。 玛格丽特招待朋友的兴致稍稍有点低落，因为这种消遣开支巨大，尤其是因为有时还不得不向我要钱。公爵把这座房子租下来给玛格丽特休养，自己却不再在这里露面了，他总是怕在这里碰到那一大群嘻嘻哈哈的宾客，他是不愿被她们看到的。尤其是因为有一天，他来与玛格丽特两人共进晚餐，却碰到有十四五个人在玛格丽特家里吃午饭，这顿午饭在他觉得可以进晚餐的时候还没有吃完。当他打开饭厅的大门时，一阵哄笑冲他而来，这是他万万意料不到的，在这些姑娘肆无忌惮的欢笑声中，他不得不立即就退了出去。 玛格丽特离开餐桌，来到隔壁房间来找公爵，竭力劝慰，想使他忘记这个不愉快的场面，但是老头儿的自尊心已经受到了损伤，心里十分恼火。他冷酷地对这个可怜的姑娘说，他不愿再拿出钱来给一个女人肆意挥霍，因为这个女人甚至在她家里都不能让他受到应有的尊敬。他怒气冲冲地走了。 从这天起，我们就不再听到他的消息。玛格丽特后来虽然已经杜门谢客，改变了原来的习惯，公爵还是杳无音讯。这样一来倒成全了我，我的情妇完全属于我了，我的梦想终于实现了。玛格丽特再也离不开我，她全然不顾后果如何，公开宣布了我们之间的关系，于是我就待在她家里不走了。仆人们称我为先生，正式把我当作他们的主人。 对这种新的生活，普律当丝曾竭力警告过玛格丽特，但是玛格丽特回答说，她爱我，她生活里不能没有我，不论发生什么事她都不会放弃和我朝夕相处的幸福，还说谁要是看不惯，尽可以不再到这里来。 这些话是有一天普律当丝对玛格丽特说她有一些重要事情要告诉她，她们两人关在房间里窃窃私语，我在房门外面听时听到的。 过了些时候普律当丝又来了。 她进来的时候，我正在花园里，她没有看见我。我看到玛格丽特向她迎上前去的模样，就怀疑有一场跟我上次听到的同样性质的谈话又将开始，我想和上次一样再去偷听。 两个女人关在一间小客厅里，我就在门外听。 “怎么样？”玛格丽特问。 “怎么样？我见到了公爵。” “他对您说什么了？” “他原谅您第一件事情，但是他已经知道您公开跟阿尔芒?迪瓦尔先生同居了。这件事是他不能原谅的。他对我说，‘只要玛格丽特离开这个小伙子，那么我就像过去一样，她要什么我就给她什么；否则她就不应该再向我要求任何东西。’” “您是怎样回答的？” “我说我会把他的决定告诉您，而且我还答应要让您明白事理。亲爱的孩子，您考虑一下您失去的地位，这个地位阿尔芒是永远也不能给您的。阿尔芒一门心思地爱您，但是他没有足够的财产来满足您的需要，他总有一天要离开您的，到那时候就太晚了。公爵再也不肯为您做什么事了，您要不要我去向阿尔芒说？” 玛格丽特似乎在考虑，因为她没有答复，我的心怦怦乱跳，一面在等待她的回答。 “不，”她接着说，“我决不离开阿尔芒，我也不再隐瞒我和他的同居生活。这样做可能很傻，但是我爱他！有什么办法呢？而且他现在毫无顾虑地爱我已经成了习惯，一天里面哪怕要离开我一小时，他也会觉得非常痛苦。再说我也活不了多久，不愿意再自找苦吃，去服从一个老头子的意志；只要一见他，我觉得自己也会变老。让他把钱留着吧，我不要了。” “但是您以后怎么办呢？” “我不知道。” 普律当丝大概还想说什么话，可是我突然冲了进去，扑倒在玛格丽特的脚下，眼泪沾湿了她的双手，这些眼泪是因为我听到她这么爱我而高兴得流出来的。 “我的生命是属于你的，玛格丽特，你不再需要那个老公爵了，我不是在这儿吗？难道我会抛弃你吗？你给我的幸福难道我能报答得了吗？不再有约束了，我的玛格丽特，我们相亲相爱！其余的事跟我们有什么相干？” “啊！是呀，我爱你，我的阿尔芒！”她用双臂紧紧地搂着我的脖子，柔声说道，“我爱你爱得简直连我自己都不能相信。我们会幸福的，我们要安静地生活，我要和那种使我现在感到脸红的生活告别。你一定不会责备我过去的生活的，是吗？” 我哭得话也讲不出来了，我只能把玛格丽特紧紧地抱在怀里。 “去吧，”她转身向普律当丝颤声说道，“您就把这一幕情景讲给公爵听，再跟他说我们用不着他了。” 从这一天起，公爵已经不成问题，玛格丽特不再是我过去认识的姑娘了。凡是会使我想起我当时遇到她时她所过的那种生活的一切，她都尽量避免。她给我的爱是任何一个做妻子的都比不上的，她给我的关心是任何一个做姐妹的所没有的。她体弱多病，容易动感情。她断绝了朋友来往，改变了过去的习惯，她的谈吐变了样，也不像过去那样挥金如土了。人们看到我们从屋里出来，坐上我买的那只精巧的小船去泛舟游河，谁也不会想到这个穿着白色长裙，头戴大草帽，臂上搭着一件普通的用来抵御河上寒气的丝绸外衣的女人就是玛格丽特?戈蒂埃。就是她，四个月以前曾因奢侈糜烂而名噪一时。 天哪！我们忙不迭地享乐，仿佛已经料到我们的好日子是长不了的一样。 我们甚至有两个月没有到巴黎去了。除了普律当丝和我跟您提到过的那个朱利?迪普拉，也没有人来看过我们。现在在我这儿的那些令人心碎的日记，就是玛格丽特后来交给朱利的。 我整天整天地偎依在我情妇的身旁。我们打开了面向花园的窗子，望着鲜花盛开的夏景，我们在树荫下并肩享受着这个不论是玛格丽特还是我，都从来也没有尝到过的真正的生活。 这个女人对一些很小的事情都会表现出孩子般的好奇。有些日子她就像一个十岁的女孩子那样，在花园里追着一只蝴蝶或者蜻蜓奔跑。这个妓女，她过去花在鲜花上的钱比足以维持一个家庭快快活活地过日子的钱还要多。有时候她就坐在草坪上，甚至坐上整整一个小时，凝望着她用来当作名字①的一朵普通的花。 ①法语中“玛格丽特”是雏菊花的意思。 就在那段日子里，她经常阅读《玛侬?莱斯科》。我好几次撞见她在这本书上加注，而且老是跟我说，一个女人在恋爱的时候肯定不会像玛侬那样做的。 公爵写了两三封信给她，她认出是公爵的笔迹，连看也不看就把信交给了我。 有几次信里的措辞使我流下了眼泪。 公爵原来以为，把玛格丽特的财源掐断以后，就会使她重新回到他的身边。但是当他看到这个办法毫无用处的时候，就坚持不下去了，他一再写信，要求她像上次一样同意他回来，不论什么条件他都可以答应。 我看完这些翻来覆去、苦苦哀求的信以后，便把它们全撕了，也不告诉玛格丽特信的内容，也不劝她再去看看那位老人。尽管我对这个可怜的人的痛苦怀着怜悯的感情，但是我怕再劝玛格丽特仍旧像以前那样接待公爵的话，她会以为我是希望公爵重新负担这座房子的开销，不管她的爱情会给我带来什么样的后果，我都会对她的生活负责的，我最怕的就是她以为我也许会逃避这个责任。 最后公爵因收不到回信也就不再来信了。玛格丽特和我照旧在一起生活，根本不考虑以后怎么办。

Chapter 16 I could have told you the start of the affair in a few lines (Armand said to me), but I wanted you to see for yourself the events and stages by which we reached the point where I agreed to everything Marguerite wanted, and Marguerite conceded that she could live only with me. It was on the day following the evening when she had come seeking me out that I sent her Manon Lescaut. From that moment on, since I could not alter my mistress's way of life, I altered mine. More than anything, I wanted to leave my mind with no time to dwell on the role I had just accepted, for, despite myself, I should have been very unhappy with it. And thus my life, normally so calm, suddenly took on an air of riot and chaos. You must not imagine that the love of a kept woman, however disinterested, costs nothing. Nothing costs more than the constant capricious requests for flowers, boxes at the theatre, supper parities, outings to the country which can never be denied a mistress. As I have told you, I had no real money of my own. My father was, and still is, the District Collector of Taxes for C. He has a wide reputation for loyal service, thanks to which he was able to raise the money for the surety he had to find before taking up the post. The Collectorship brings in forty thousand francs a year and, during the ten years he has held it, he has paid off his bond and set about putting a dowry for my sister to one side. My father is the most honourable man you could hope to meet. When my mother died, she left an income of six thousand francs which he divided between my sister and myself the day he acquired the appointment for which he had canvassed; then, when I was twenty-one, he added to this small income an annual allowance of five thousand francs, and assured me that I could be very happy in Paris on eight thousand francs if, beside this income, I could establish myself in a position at the bar or in medicine. Accordingly, I came to Paris, read law, was called to the bar and, like any number of young men, put my diploma in my pocket and rather let myself drift along on the carefree life of Paris. My expenses were very modest. However, I regularly got through my year's income in eight months, and spent the four summer months at my father's place, which in all gave me twelve thousand a year and a reputation as a good son. And, moreover, I didn't owe anyone a penny. That was how things stood with me when I met Marguerite. You will appreciate that, in spite of my wishes, my level of expenditure rose. Marguerite's was a most capricious nature, and she was one of those women who never consider that the countless amusements of which their life is made can be a serious financial drain. As a result, since she wanted to spend as much time with me as possible, she would write me a note in the morning to say that she would have dinner with me, not in her apartment, but in some restaurant either in Paris or in the country. I would collect her, we would dine, go on to the theatre, and often have supper together, and I would spend four or five Louis on the evening. Which came to two thousand five hundred or three thousand francs a month. Which shortened my year to three and a half months, and put me in the position of either having to run up debts or to leave Marguerite. Now I was prepared to agree to anything, except the latter possibility. Forgive me for telling you all this in such detail, but, as you shall see, these circumstances were the cause of the events which follow. The story I tell is true and simple, and I have allowed the unvarnished facts to stand and the onward march of events to emerge unobstructed. I realized therefore that, since nothing in the world could weigh heavily enough with me to make me forget my mistress, I should have to find a way of meeting the expense which she forced me to incur. Furthermore, love had run such riot in me that every moment I spent away from Marguerite seemed like a year, and I felt the need to pass those moments through the flame of some passion or other, and to live them so fast so fast that I would not notice that I was living them at all. I set about borrowing five or six thousand francs against my small capital and began to play the tables, for since the gambling houses were shut down, people have been gambling everywhere. Time was, when you went to Frascati, you stood a chance of winning a fortune: you played against a bank and, if you lost, you had the consolation of telling yourself you might have won. Whereas nowadays, except in the gaming clubs where you still find they are pretty strict about paying up, you can be fairly sure that if you win a large sum you won't see a penny of if. You will readily understand the reasons why. Gambling is only for young men who have expensive tastes and not enough money to keep up the kind of lives they lead. So they gamble and, in the natural way of things, this is the result: they may win, and then the losers are expected to foot the bill for these gentlemen's horses and mistresses, which is thoroughly disagreeable. Debts are contracted, and friendships begun around the gaming table end in quarrels from which honour and lives invariably emerge somewhat tattered. And if you are a gentleman, you may find you have been ruined by very gentlemanly young men whose only fault was that they did not have two hundred thousand francs a year. There is no need for me to tell you about the ones who cheat. One day, you learn that they have had to go away and that ?too late ?judgement has been passed on them. I accordingly threw myself into the fast-moving, bustling, volcanic life which once upon a time had frightened me when I thought of it, and which had now come to be in my eyes the inescapable corollary of my love for Marguerite. What else could I have done? During the nights I did not spend in the rue d'Antin, I should not have slept if I had spent them alone in my apartment. Jealousy would have kept me awake and heated my thoughts and blood. On the other hand, gambling temporarily beguiled the fever which would otherwise have overrun my heart which was, thereby, diverted towards a passion fascinating enough to absorb me despite myself until the time came for me to go to my mistress. When that hour struck ?and this was how I became aware of how violent my love was ?then, whether I was winning or losing, I would abandon the table without compunction, feeling pity for those I left there who, unlike me, would not find happiness when they came to take their leave. For most of them, gambling was a necessity; for me, it was a kind of antidote. When I was cured of Marguerite, I would be cured of gambling. And so, in the middle of it all, I was able to keep a fairly cool head. I lost only what I could afford, and won only what I could have afforded to lose. Moreover, luck was on my side. I did not run up debts, and spent three times as much as before I started playing the tables. It was not easy to resist the allurements of a way of life which enabled me to cater for Marguerite's innumerable whims without feeling the pinch. For her part, she still loved me as much, and even more. As I have told you I began at first by being allowed to stay only between midnight and six in the morning. Then I was allowed into her box at various theatres from time to time. Next, she came and dined with me occasionally. One morning, I did not leave until eight, and there was a day when I did not go until noon. Pending her moral transformation, a physical transformation had come over Marguerite. I had undertaken to cure her, and the poor girl, guessing what I was about, did everything I told her as a way of showing her gratitude. Without too much trouble or persuasion, I managed to cut her off almost totally from her old habits. My doctor, whom I had arranged for her to meet, had told me that only rest and quiet could keep her in good health, and consequently, for the supper parties and late nights, I succeeded in substituting a healthy diet and regular sleep. Reluctantly at first, Marguerite took to her new life, the beneficial effects of which she could feel. And soon she began to spend odd evenings at home or, if the weather were fine, she would wrap up well in an Indian shawl, cover her face with a veil, and we would set off on foot, like a couple of children, to roam the evening away along the dusky avenues of the Champs-Elysees. She would return weary, take a light supper and retire to bed after playing a little music or reading a few pages, something which had never happened to her before. The coughing fits, which I had found heartrending whenever I heard her racked by them, had almost completely gone. Within six weeks, there was no further mention of the Count who had been permanently sacrificed. There remained only the Duke to compel me to hide my affair with Marguerite, and even he had often been sent away in my presence on the pretext that Madame was asleep and had left orders that she was not to be disturbed. As a direct result of the habit of seeing me ?or rather the need to see me ?which Marguerite had contracted, I abandoned gambling at the precise moment when an experienced gambler would also have given up. All in all, with what I had won, I found myself in possession of twelve thousand francs which seemed an inexhaustible capital to me. The time of year had come round when I normally went off to join my father and my sister, and still I did not go. As a result, I received frequent letters from both of them asking me to come and stay with them. To all their entreaties, I answered as best I could, repeating that I was well and that I was not short of money, two considerations which, I believed, would go some way to consoling my father for delaying the start of my annual visit. Meantime, it came about one morning that Marguerite, who had been woken up by bright sunshine, leaped out of bed and asked me if I would like to take her out to the country for the day. Prudence was sent for and the three of us set out, after Marguerite had left orders with Nanine to tell the Duke that she had wanted to make the most of the weather and had gone to the country with Madame Duvernoy. Apart from the fact that the presence of la Duvernoy was necessary to set the old Duke's mind at rest, Prudence was the sort of woman who seems expressly cut out for country outings. With her unquenchable high spirits and insatiable appetite, she was quite incapable of allowing anyone she was with to be bored for an instant, and was more than likely to be an old hand at ordering the eggs, cherries, milk, sauted rabbit and all the usual ingredients of the traditional lunch for which the countryside around Paris is known. All that remained was to decide where we should go. Once again, it was Prudence who got us out of this difficulty. 'Is it the real country you want to go to?' she asked. 'Yes.' 'Well, let's go to Bougival, to the Point du Jour. It's run by a widow named Arnould. Armand, go and hire a barouche.' An hour and half later we were in the establishment run by the widow Arnould. Perhaps you know the inn I mean: it is a hotel during the week and pleasure garden on Sundays. From the garden, which is raised and stands as high as an ordinary first floor, you get a magnificent view. On the left, the Marly aqueduct commands the horizon; on the right, the view unfolds across a never-ending succession of hills; the river, which at this point hardly moves at all, stretches away like a wide ribbon of shimmering white silk between the plain of Les Gabillons and the lle de Croissy, and is rocked ceaselessly by the whisper of its tall poplars and the soughing of its willows. Far off, picked out in a wide swathe of sunlight, rise small white houses with red roofs, and factories which, shorn by distance of their grim, commercial character, complete the landscape in the most admirable way. And, far off, Paris shrouded in smoke! As Prudence had told us, it was really the country and, I must say, it was a real lunch we had. It is not of gratitude for the happiness I have to thank the place for that I'm saying all this. Bougival, in spite of its unattractive name, is one of the prettiest spots you could possibly imagine. I have travelled a great deal and seen great sights, but none more charming than this tiny village cheerfully nestling at the foot of the hill which shelters it. Madame Arnould offered to arrange for us to take a boat out on the river, and Marguerite and Prudence accepted with alacrity. The countryside has always been associated with love, and rightly so. Nothing creates a more fitting backdrop to the woman you love than the blue sky, the fragrances, the flowers, the breezes, the solitary splendour of fields and woods. However much you love a woman, however much you trust her, however sure of the future her past life makes you, you are always jealous to some degree. If you have ever been in love, really in love, you must have experienced this need to shut out the world and isolate the person through whom you wished to live your whole life. It is as though the woman you love, however indifferent she may be to her surroundings, loses something of her savour and consistency when she comes into contact with men and things. Now I experienced this more intensely than any other man. Mine was no ordinary love; I was as much in love as mortal creature can be. But I loved Marguerite Gautier, which is to say that in Paris, at every turn, I might stumble across some man who had already been her lover, or would be the next day. Whereas, in the country, surrounded by people we had never seen before who paid no attention to us, surrounded by nature in all her springtime finery, which is her annual gesture of forgiveness, and far from the bustle of the city, I could shelter my love from prying eyes, and love without shame or fear. There, the courtesan faded imperceptibly. At my side, I had a young and beautiful woman whom I loved, by whom I was loved and whose name was Marguerite: the shapes of the past dissolved and the future was free of clouds. The sun shone on my mistress as brightly as it would have shone on the purest fiancee. Together we strolled through delightful glades which seemed as though they were deliberately designed to remind you of lines by Lamartine and make you hum tunes by Scudo. Marguerite was wearing a white dress. She leaned on my arm. Beneath the starry evening sky, she repeated the words she had said to me the previous night, and in the distance the world went on turning without casting its staining shadow over the happy picture of our youth and love. Such was the dream which that day's burning sun brought me through the leafy trees and I, lying full-length in the grass of the island where we had landed, free of all human ties which had hitherto bound me, allowed my mind to run free and gather up all the hopes it met with. Add to this that, from the spot where I lay, I could see, on the bank, a charming little two-storied house which crouched behind a railing in the shape of a semi-circle. Beyond the railing, in front of the house, was a green lawn as smooth as velvet, and, behind the building, a small wood full of mysterious hideaways, where each morning all traces of the previous evening's passage would surely be all mossed over. Climbing flowers hid the steps leading up to the door of this empty house, and hugged it as far up as the first floor. Gazing long and hard at the house, I convinced myself in the end that it belonged to me, so completely did it enshrine the dream I was dreaming. I could picture Marguerite and me there together, by day walking in the wood which clothed the hill and, in the evenings, sitting on the lawn, and I wondered to myself if earthly creatures could ever be as happy as we two should be. 'What a pretty house!' said Marguerite, who had been following the direction of my eyes and perhaps my thoughts. 'Where?' said Prudence. 'Over there.' And Marguerite pointed to the house in question. 'Oh, it's lovely, ' replied Prudence. 'Do you like it?' 'Very much.' 'Well, then, tell the Duke to rent it for you. He'll rent it for you all right, I'm sure of it. You can leave it all to me if you want.' Marguerite looked at me, as though to ask what I thought of the suggestion. My dream had been shattered with these last words of Prudence, and its going had brought me back to reality with such a jolt that I was still dazed by the shock. 'Why, it's an excellent idea, ' I stammered, not knowing what I was saying. 'In that case, I'll arrange it, ' said Marguerite, squeezing my hand and interpreting my words according to her desires. 'Let's go this minute and see if it's to let.' The house was empty, and to let for two thousand francs. 'Will you be happy here?' she said to me. 'Can I be sure of ever being here?' 'Who would I choose to bury myself here for, if not for you?' 'Listen, Marguerite, let me rent the house myself.' 'You must be mad! It's not only unnecessary, it would be dangerous. You know perfectly well that I can only take money from one man. So don't be difficult, silly boy, and don't say another word.' 'This way, when I've got a couple of days free, I can come down and spend them with you, ' said Prudence. We left the house and set off back to Paris talking of this latest decision. I held Marguerite in my arms and, by the time we stepped out of the carriage, I was beginning to view my mistress's scheme with a less scrupulous eye. 第十六章 阿尔芒接下去对我说：“我本来可以把我们结合的起因简单扼要地讲给您听，但是我想让您知道是通过了哪些事件、经历了哪些曲折，我才会对玛格丽特百依百顺，玛格丽特才会把我当作她生活中必不可少的伴侣。” 就在她来找我的那个晚上的第二天，我把《玛侬?莱斯科》送给了她。 从此以后，因为我不能改变我情妇的生活，就改变我自己的生活。首先我不让脑子有时间来考虑我刚才接受的角色，因为一想到这件事，我总是不由自主地感到十分难受。过去我的生活一直是安静清闲的，现在突然变得杂乱无章了。别以为一个不贪图钱财的妓女的爱情，花不了您多少钱。她有千百种嗜好：花束、包厢、夜宵、郊游，这些要求对一个情妇是永远不能拒绝的，而又都是很费钱的。 我对您说过了，我是没有财产的。我父亲过去和现在都是C城的总税务官，他为人正直，名声极好，因此他借到了担任这个职位所必需的保证金。这个职务给他每年带来四万法郎的收入，十年做下来，他已偿还了保证金，并且还替我妹妹攒下了嫁妆。我父亲是一个非常值得尊敬的人。我母亲去世后留下六千法郎的年金，他在谋到他所企求的职务那天就把这笔年金平分给我和我妹妹了。后来在我二十一岁那年，父亲又在我那笔小小的收入上增加了一笔每年五千法郎的津贴费，我就有了八千法郎一年。他对我说，如果在这笔年金收入之外，我还愿意在司法界或者医务界里找一个工作的话，那么我在巴黎的日子就可以过得很舒服。因此我来到了巴黎，攻读法律，得到了律师的资格，就像很多年轻人一样，我把文凭放在口袋里，让自己稍许过几天巴黎那种懒散的生活。我非常省吃俭用，可是全年的收入只够我八个月的花费。夏天四个月我在父亲家里过，这样合起来就等于有一万两千法郎的年金收入，还赢得了一个孝顺儿子的美誉，而且我一个铜子的债也不欠。 这就是我认识玛格丽特时候的景况。 您知道我的日常开销自然而然地增加了，玛格丽特是非常任性的。有些女人把她们的生活寄托在各种各样的娱乐上面，而且根本不把这些娱乐看作是什么了不起的花费。玛格丽特就是这样的女人。结果，为了尽可能跟我在一起多呆些时间，她往往上午就写信约我一起吃晚饭，并不是到她家里，而是到巴黎或者郊外的饭店。我去接她，再一起吃饭，一起看戏，还经常一起吃夜宵，我每天晚上要花上四五个路易，这样我每月就要有二千五百到三千法郎的开销，一年的收入在三个半月内就花光了，我必须借款，要不然就得离开玛格丽特。 可是我什么都可以接受，就是不能接受这后一种可能性。 请原谅我把这么许多琐碎的细节都讲给您听，可是您下面就会看到这些琐事和以后即将发生的事情之间的关系。我讲给您听的是一个真实而简单的故事，我就让这个故事保持它朴实无华的细节和它简单明了的发展过程。 因此我懂得了，由于世界上没有任何东西可以使我忘掉我的情妇，我必须找到一个方法来应付我为她而增加的花费。而且，这个爱情已使我神魂颠倒，只要我离开玛格丽特，我就度日如年，我感到需要投身于某种情欲来消磨这些时间，要让日子过得异常迅速来使我忘却时间的流逝。 我开始在我的小小的本金中挪用了五六千法郎，我开始赌钱了。自从赌场被取缔以后，人们到处都可以赌钱。从前人们一走进弗拉斯卡第赌场，就有发财的机会。大家赌现钱，输家可以自我安慰地说他们也有赢的机会；而现在呢，除了在俱乐部里，输赢还比较认真以外，换了在别的地方，如果赢到一大笔钱，几乎肯定是拿不到的。原因很容易理解。 赌钱的人，总是那些开支浩大又没有足够的钱维持他们所过的生活的年轻人；他们赌钱的结果必然是这样的：如果他们赢了，那么输家就替那些先生的车马和情妇付钱，这是很难堪的。于是债台高筑，赌桌绿台布周围建立起来的友谊在争吵中宣告破裂，荣誉和生命总要受到些损伤；如果您是一个诚实的人，那么您就会被一些更加诚实的年轻人搞得不名一文，这些年轻人没有别的错误，只不过是少了二十万利弗尔的年金收入。 至于那些在赌钱时做手脚的人，我也不必跟您多说了，他们总有一天会混不下去，迟早会得到惩罚。 我投身到这个紧张、混乱和激烈的生活中去了，这种生活我过去连想想都觉得害怕，现在却成了我对玛格丽特爱情的不可缺少的补充，叫我有什么办法呢？ 如果哪天夜晚我不去昂坦街，一个人呆在家里的话，我是睡不着的。我妒火中烧，无法入睡，我的思想和血液如同在燃烧一般，而赌博可以暂时转移我心中燃烧着的激情，把它引向另一种热情，我不由自主地投身到里面去了，一直赌到我应该去会我情妇的时间为止。因此，从这里我就看到了我爱情的强烈，不管是赢是输，我都毫不留恋地离开赌桌，并为那些仍旧留在那里的人感到惋惜，他们是不会像我一样在离开赌桌的时候带着幸福的感觉的。 对大部分人来说，赌博是一种需要，对我来说却是一服药剂。 如果我不爱玛格丽特，我也不会去赌博。 因此，在赌钱的过程中，我能相当冷静，我只输我付得出的钱，我只赢我输得起的钱。 而且，我赌运很好。我没有欠债，但花费却要比我没有赌钱以前多三倍。这样的生活可以让我毫无困难地满足玛格丽特成千种的任性要求，但要维持这种生活却是不容易的。就她来说，她一直跟以前一样地爱我，甚至比以前更爱我了。 我刚才已经跟您说过，开始的时候她只在半夜十二点到第二天早晨六点之间接待我，接着她允许我可以经常进入她的包厢，后来她有时还来跟我一起吃晚饭。有一天早晨我到八点钟才离开她，还有一天我一直到中午才走。 在期待着玛格丽特精神上的转变时，她的肉体已经发生了变化。我曾经设法替她治病，这个可怜的姑娘也猜出了我的意图，为了表示她的感谢就听从了我的劝告。我没有费什么周折就使她几乎完全放弃了她的老习惯。我让她去找的那一位医生对我说，只有休息和安静才能使她恢复健康，于是我对她的夜宵订出了合乎卫生的饮食制度，对她的睡眠规定了一定的时间。玛格丽特不知不觉地习惯了这种新的生活方式，她自己也感到这种生活方式对她的健康有益。有几个晚上她开始在自己家里度过，或者遇到好天气的时候，就裹上一条开司米披肩，罩上面纱，我们像两个孩子似的在香榭丽舍大街昏暗的街道上漫步。她回来的时候有些疲劳，稍许吃一些点心，弹一会儿琴，或者看一会儿书便睡觉了。这样的事她过去是从来未曾有过的。从前我每次听到都使我感到心痛的那种咳嗽几乎完全消失了。 六个星期以后，伯爵已经不成问题，被完全抛在脑后了，只是对公爵我不得不继续隐瞒我跟玛格丽特的关系；然而当我在玛格丽特那里的时候，公爵还是经常被打发走的，借口是夫人在睡觉，不准别人叫醒她。 结果是养成了玛格丽特需要和我待在一起的习惯，这甚至变成了一种需要，因此我能正好在一个精明的赌徒应该滑脚的时候离开赌台。总之，因为总是赢钱，我发现手里已有万把法郎，这笔钱对我来说似乎是一笔取之不尽的财产。 习惯上我每年要去探望父亲和妹妹的时间来到了，但是我没有去，因此我经常收到他们两人要我回家的信。 对这些催我回家的来信，我全都婉转得体地一一答复，我总是说我身体很好，我也不缺钱花。我认为这两点或许能使父亲对我迟迟不回家探亲稍许得到些安慰。 在这期间，一天早上，玛格丽特被强烈的阳光照醒了，她跳下床来问我愿不愿意带她到乡下去玩一天。 我们派人去把普律当丝找来，玛格丽特嘱咐纳尼娜对公爵说，她要趁这阳光明媚的天气跟迪韦尔诺瓦太太一起到乡下去玩。随后我们三人就一起走了。 有迪韦尔诺瓦在场，可以使老公爵放心，除此之外，普律当丝好像生来就是一个专门参加郊游的女人。她整天兴致勃勃，加上她永远满足不了的胃口，有她作伴决不会有片刻烦闷，而且她还精通怎样去订购鸡蛋、樱桃、牛奶、炸兔肉以及所有那些巴黎郊游野餐必不可少的传统食物。 我们只要知道上哪儿去就行了。 这个使我们踌躇不决的问题又是普律当丝替我们解决了。 “你们是不是想到一个名副其实的乡下去呀？”她问。 “是的。” “那好，我们一起去布吉瓦尔①，到阿尔努寡妇的曙光饭店去。阿尔芒，去租一辆四轮马车。” ①布吉瓦尔：巴黎西部的一个小村镇。 一个半小时以后，我们到了阿尔努寡妇的饭店。 您也许知道这个饭店，它一个星期有六天是旅馆，星期天是咖啡馆。它有一个花园，有一般二层楼那么高，在那里远眺，风景非常优美。左边是一望无际的马尔利引水渠，右边是连绵不断的小山岗；在加皮荣平原和克罗瓦西岛之间，有一条银白色的小河，它在这一带几乎是停滞的，像一条宽大的白色波纹缎带似的向两面伸展开去。两岸高大的杨树在随风摇曳，柳树在喃喃细语，不停地哄着小河入睡。 远处矗立着一片红瓦白墙的小房子，还有些工厂，它们在灿烂的阳光照耀下，更增添了一层迷人的色彩。至于这些工厂枯燥无味的商业化特点，由于距离较远就无法看清了。 极目远眺，是云雾笼罩下的巴黎。 就像普律当丝对我们讲的那样，这是一个真正的乡村，而且，我还应该这样说，这是一顿真正的午餐。 倒不是因为我感谢从那里得到了幸福才这样说的。可是布吉瓦尔，尽管它的名字难听，还是一个理想的风景区。我旅行过不少地方，看见过很多壮丽的景色，但是没有看到过比这个恬静地坐落在山脚下的小乡村更优美的地方了。 阿尔努夫人建议我们去泛舟游河，玛格丽特和普律当丝高兴地接受了。 人们总是把乡村和爱情联系起来，这是很有道理的。没有比这明亮的田野或者寂静的树林里的蓝天、芳草、鲜花和微风更能和您心爱的女人相配了。不论您多么爱一个女人，不论您多么信任她，不论她过去的行为可以保证她将来的忠实，您多少总会有些妒意的。如果您曾经恋爱过，认认真真地恋爱过，您一定会感到必须把您想完全独占的人与世界隔绝。不管您心爱的女人对周围的人是如何冷若冰霜，只要她跟别的男人和事物一接触，似乎就会失去她的香味和完整。这是我比别人体会更深的。我的爱情不是一种普通的爱情，我像一个普通人恋爱时所能做的那样恋爱着，但是我爱的是玛格丽特?戈蒂埃，这就是说在巴黎，我每走一步都可能碰到一个曾经做过她情人的人，或者是即将成为她情人的人。至于在乡下，我们完全置身于那些我们从来没有遇到过、也不关心我们的人中间，在这一年一度春意盎然的大自然怀抱中，在远离城市的喧闹声的地方，我可以倾心相爱，而用不到带着羞耻、怀着恐惧地去爱。 妓女的形象在这里渐渐消失了。我身旁是一个叫做玛格丽特的年轻美貌的女人，我爱她，她也爱我，过去的一切已经没有痕迹，未来是一片光明。太阳就像照耀着一个最纯洁的未婚妻那样照耀着我的情妇。我们双双在这富有诗意的地方散步，这些地方仿佛造得故意让人回忆起拉马丁①的诗句和斯居杜②的歌曲。玛格丽特穿一件白色的长裙，斜依在我的胳臂上。晚上，在繁星点点的苍穹下，她向我反复絮叨着她前一天对我说的话。远处，城市仍在继续它喧闹的生活，我们的青春和爱情的欢乐景象丝毫不受它的沾染。 ①拉马丁（１７９０—１８６９）：法国十九世纪浪漫主义诗人。 ②斯居杜（１８０６—１８６４）：法国十九世纪作曲家、音乐理论家。 这就是那天灼热的阳光穿过树叶的空隙给我带来的梦境。我们的游船停在一个孤岛上，我们躺在小岛的草地上，割断了过去的一切人间关系，我听任自己思潮起伏，憧憬着未来。 从我所在的地方，我还看到岸边有一座玲珑可爱的三层楼房屋，外面有一个半圆形的铁栅栏，穿过这个栅栏，在房屋前面有一块像天鹅绒一样平整的翠绿色的草地，在房子后面有一座神秘莫测的幽静的小树林。这块草地上，头天被踏出的小径，第二天就被新长出来的苔藓淹没了。 一些蔓生植物的花朵铺满了这座空房子的台阶，一直延伸到二楼。 我凝望着这座房子，最后我竟以为这座房子是属于我的了，因为它是多么符合我的梦想啊。我在这座房子里看到了玛格丽特和我两人，白天在这座山岗上的树林之中，晚上一起坐在绿草地上，我心里在想，这个世界上难道还有什么人能像我们这样幸福的吗？ “多么漂亮的房子！”玛格丽特对我说，她已经随着我的视线看到了这座房子，可能还有着和我同样的想法。 “在哪里？”普律当丝问。 “那边。”玛格丽特指着那所房子。 “啊！真美，”普律当丝接着说，“您喜欢它吗？” “非常喜欢。” “那么，对公爵说要他把房子给您租下来，我肯定他会同意的，这件事我负责。如果您愿意的话，让我来办。” 玛格丽特望着我，似乎在征求我对这个意见的看法。 我的梦想已经随着普律当丝最后几句话破灭了，我突然一下子掉落在现实之中，被摔得头晕眼花。 “是啊，这个主意真妙，”我结结巴巴地说，也不知道自己在说些什么。 “那么，一切由我来安排，”玛格丽特握着我的手说，她是依着自己的愿望来理解我的话的，“快去看看这座房子是不是出租。” 房子空着，租金是两千法郎。 “您高兴到这里来吗？”她问我说。 “我肯定能到这儿来吗？” “如果不是为了您，那么我躲到这儿来又是为了谁呢？” “好吧，玛格丽特，让我自己来租这座房子吧。” “您疯了吗？这不但没有好处，而且还有危险，您明知道我只能接受一个人的安排，让我来办吧，傻小子，别多说了。” “这样的话，如果我一连有两天空闲，我就来和你们一起住。”普律当丝说。 我们离开这座房子，踏上了去巴黎的道路，一面还在谈着这个新的计划。我把玛格丽特搂在怀里，以致在我下车的时候，已经能稍许平心静气地来考虑我情妇的计划了。

Chapter 15 JOSEPH and I had been getting everything ready for my departure for about an hour, when there was a violent ringing at my door. 'Should I answer it?' said Joseph. 'Yes, ' I told him, wondering who could be calling so late, and not daring to hope it was Marguerite. 'Sir, ' said Joseph when he returned, 'there are two ladies? 'It's us, Armand, ' cried a voice which I recognized as belonging to Prudence. I emerged from my bedroom. Prudence was standing and gazing about her at the few curios dotted around my drawing-room; Marguerite was sitting on the sofa, occupied by her thoughts. When I entered, I went to her, knelt before her, took both her hands and, in a voice touched with emotion, I said: 'Forgive me.' She kissed me on the brow and said: 'That's the third time I've forgiven you.' 'I was going to go away tomorrow.' 'How can my visit change your mind? I haven't come here to stop you leaving Paris. I came because I haven't had time all day to reply to your letter, and I didn't want to leave you with the impression that I was cross with you. Even so, Prudence didn't want me to come: she said I might be in your way.' 'You! In my way, Marguerite! But how?' 'Why, you could have had a woman here, ' answered Prudence, 'and it wouldn't have been very funny for her to see another two turning up.' While Prudence was making this remark, Marguerite watched me closely. 'My dear Prudence, ' I replied, 'you're talking nonsense.' 'You've got a very nice apartment, ' answered Prudence. 'Mind if I take a look at the bedroom?' 'Not at all.' Prudence went off into my bedroom, not so much to see inside as to cover up her unfortunate remark and to leave Marguerite and me alone together. 'Why did you bring Prudence with you?' I said. 'Because she was with me at the theatre, and because I wanted to have someone to see me home when I left here.' 'Couldn't I have done it?' 'Yes. But apart from the fact that I didn't want to disturb you, I was quite certain that when you got to my door you would ask if you could come up and, since I couldn't let you, I didn't want you to go away feeling you had any right to blame me for refusing you anything.' 'And why couldn't you let me come up?' 'Because I'm being watched very closely, and because the least hint of suspicion could do me a great deal of harm.' 'Is that the only reason?' 'If there was another, I would tell you what it was; we've got past the stage of having secrets from each other.' 'Listen, Marguerite, I'm not going to make any bones about what I want to say to you. Tell me, do you love me a little?' 'A great deal.' 'Then why did you deceive me?' 'My dear, if I were the Duchess of This or That, if I had two hundred thousand livers a year, if I were your mistress and had another lover besides you, then you'd have every right to ask why I deceive you. But I am Mademoiselle Marguerite Gautier, I have debts of forty thousand and not a penny behind me, and I spend a hundred thousand francs a year: your question is out of order and my answer irrelevant.' 'You're quite right, ' I said, letting my head fall on to Marguerite's knees, 'but I do love you, to distraction.' 'Well, my dear, you should have loved me a little less or understood me a little better. Your letter hurt me very deeply. If I'd been free to choose, then in the first place I would never have seen the Count the day before yesterday, or, if I had, I would have come to beg you for the forgiveness which you asked of me a few moments ago and, from that moment on, I would have had no other lover but you. There was a moment when I thought I could indulge myself and be really happy for those six months. You would have none of it; you just had to know how I was going to manage it ?good heavens! it was easy enough to guess. The sacrifice I was going to have to make if it was to be possible, was much greater than you think. I could have told you: "I need twenty thousand francs." You were in love with me, you would have raised it somehow, though there was a risk that one day you'd be sorry you'd done so and blame me. I chose to owe you nothing; you didn't understand my delicacy, for delicacy it is. Girls of my sort, at least those of us who still have some feelings left, take words and things further and deeper than other women. I repeat: coming from Marguerite Gautier, the means with she found of repaying her debts without asking you for the money it took, was an act of great delicacy of which you should now take advantage without another word. If you met me today for the first time, you'd be only too delighted with the promises I'd make you, and you wouldn't ask questions about what I did the day before yesterday. Sometimes, we have no choice but to buy gratifications for the soul at some cost to the body, and it hurts all the more when those gratifications subsequently elude us.' I heard and saw Marguerite with admiration. When I reflected that this marvellous creature, whose feet I once had longed to kiss, should consent to give me a place in her thoughts and a role in her life, and when I thought that I was still not content with what she was giving me, I asked myself whether man's desire has any limits at all if, though satisfied as promptly as mine had been, it can still aspire to something more. 'It's true, ' she went on, 'we creatures of chance have weird desires and unimaginable passions. Sometimes we give ourselves for one thing, sometimes for another. There are men who could ruin themselves and get nowhere with us; there are others who can have us for a bunch of flowers. Our hearts are capricious: it's their only diversion and their only excuse. I gave myself to you more quickly than I ever did to another man, I swear. Why? Because when you saw me coughing blood, you took me by the hand, because you wept, because you are the only human being who ever felt sorry for me. I'm now going to tell you something silly. Once I had a little dog who used to look at me with sad eyes when I coughed: he was the only living creature I have ever loved. 'When he died, I cried more than after my mother's death. Mind you, she did spend twelve years of her life beating me. Well, from the start, I loved you as much as my dog. If men only knew what can be had with just one tear, they would be better loved and we should ruin fewer of them. 'Your letter gave you away: it showed me that you didn't understand the workings of the heart, and it injured you more in the love. I had for you than anything else you could have done. It was jealousy, of course, but a sarcastic, haughty kind of jealousy. I was feeling miserable when I got the letter. I was counting on seeing you at midday, on having lunch with you, hoping the sight of you would chase away a thought I kept having which, before I knew you, never bothered me in the least. 'Then again, 'continued Marguerite, 'you were the only person with whom I'd sensed from the first I could think and speak freely. People who congregate around girls like me can gain a great deal by paying close attention to the slightest words we say, and by drawing conclusions from our most insignificant actions. Naturally, we have no friends, we have egotistical lovers who spend their fortunes not on us, as they claim, but on their vanity. 'For men like these, we have to be cheerful when they are happy, hale and hearty when they decide they want supper, and as cynical as they are. We are not allowed to have feelings, for fear of being jeered at and losing our credibility. 'Our lives are no longer our own. We aren't human beings, but things. We rank first in their pride, and last in their good opinion. We have women friends, but they are friends like Prudence ? yesterday's kept women who still have expensive tastes which their age prevents them from indulging. So they become our friends, or rather associates. Their friendship may verge on the servile, but it is never disinterested. They'll never give you a piece of advice unless there's money in it. They don't care if we've got ten lovers extra as long as they get a few dresses or a bracelet out of them and can drive about every now and then in our carriages and sit in our boxes at the theatre. They end up with the flowers we were given the night before, and they borrow our Indian shawls. They never do us a good turn, however trifling, without making sure they get paid twice what their trouble was worth. You saw as much yourself the evening Prudence brought me the six thousand francs which I'd asked her to go and beg from the Duke; she borrowed five hundred francs which she'll never give back, or else she'll pay it off in hats that will never get taken out of their boxes. 'So we can have, or rather I had, only one hope of happiness: and this was, sad as I sometimes am and ill as I am always, to find a man of sufficiently rare qualities who would never ask me to account for my actions, and be the lover of my wilder fancies more than the lover of my body. I found this man in the Duke, but the Duke is old and old age neither shields nor consoles. I'd thought I could settle for the life he made for me. But it was no use. I was dying of boredom, and I felt that if I was going to be destroyed, then I might as well jump into the flames as choke on the fumes. 'Then I met you. You were young, passionate, happy, and I tried to turn you into the man I had cried out for in my crowded but empty life. What I loved in you was not the man you were but the man you could be. You refuse to accept the part; you reject it as unworthy of you; you are a commonplace lover, just do what the others do: pay me and let's not talk about it any more.' Marguerite, tired by this long confession, settled back into the sofa and, to check a mild fit of coughing, put her handkerchief to her lips and even wiped her eyes. 'Forgive me, forgive me, ' I murmured, 'I knew all this, but I wanted to hear you say it, my darling Marguerite. Let's forget the rest. Let's just remember one thing: we belong to one another, we are young and we are in love. 'Marguerite, do with me what you will. I am your slave, your dog. But, in the name of God, tear up the letter I wrote you and don't let me go away tomorrow. It would kill me.' Marguerite withdrew the letter from the bodice of her dress and, as she handed it back to me, said with a smile of infinite sweetness: 'Here, I was bringing it back to you.' I tore up the letter and, with tears in my eyes, kissed the hand which held it. At this juncture, Prudence reappeared. 'Oh, Prudence, can you guess what he wants me to do?' said Marguerite. 'To forgive him.' 'That's right.' 'And have you?' 'I can't do otherwise. But there's something else he wants.' 'What's that?' 'He wants to come and have supper with us.' 'And are you going to say yes?' 'What do you think?' 'I think you're a couple of children without an ounce of common sense between you. But I also think that I'm ravenous, and the sooner you do say yes, the sooner we'll have supper.' 'Come on, then, ' said Marguerite, 'we can all fit into my carriage. By the way, ' she added, turning to me, 'Nanine will have gone to bed, so you'll have to open the door. Take my key, and try not to lose it again.' I kissed Marguerite until she had no breath left. Thereupon, Joseph came in. 'Sir, ' he said with the air of a man terribly pleased with himself, 'the trunks are packed.' 'All of them?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Well, unpack them. I'm not leaving.' 第十五章 我和约瑟夫为我动身做准备，忙了将近一个小时，突然有人猛拉我家的门铃。 “要不要开门？”约瑟夫问我。 “开吧，”我对他说，心里在嘀咕谁会在这种时候上我家来，因为我不敢相信这会是玛格丽特。 “先生，”约瑟夫回来对我说，“是两位太太。” “是我们，阿尔芒，”一个嗓子嚷道，我听出这是普律当丝的声音。 我走出卧室。 普律当丝站着观赏我会客室里的几件摆设，玛格丽特坐在沙发椅里沉思。 我进去以后径直向她走去，跪下去握住她的双手，激动万分地对她说：“原谅我吧。” 她吻了吻我的前额对我说： “这已经是我第三次原谅您了。” “否则我明天就要走了。” “我的来访凭什么要改变您的决定呢？我不是来阻止您离开巴黎的。我来，是因为我白天没有时间给您写回信，又不愿意让您以为我在生您的气。普律当丝还不让我来呢，她说我也许会打扰您的。” “您，打扰我？您，玛格丽特！怎么会呢？” “当然罗！您家里可能有一个女人，”普律当丝回答说。 “她看到又来了两个可不是好玩的。” 在普律当丝发表她的高论时，玛格丽特注意地打量着我。 “我亲爱的普律当丝，”我回答说，“您简直是在胡扯。” “您这套房间布置得很漂亮，”普律当丝抢着说，“我们可以看看您的卧室吗？” “可以。” 普律当丝走进我的卧室，她倒并非真要参观我的卧室，而是要赎补她刚才的蠢话，这样就留下玛格丽特和我两个人了。 于是我问她：“您为什么要带普律当丝来？” “因为看戏时她陪着我，再说离开这里时也要有人陪我。” “我不是在这儿吗？” “是的，但是一方面我不愿意麻烦您，另一方面我敢肯定您到了我家门口就会要求上楼到我家，而我却不能同意，我不愿意因我的拒绝而使您在离开我时又有了一个埋怨我的权利。” “那么您为什么不能接待我呢？” “因为我受到严密的监视，稍不注意就会铸成大错。” “仅仅是这个原因吗？” “如果有别的原因，我会对您说的，我们之间不再有什么秘密了。” “嗳，玛格丽特，我不想拐弯抹角地跟您说话，老实说吧，您究竟有些爱我吗？” “爱极了。” “那么，您为什么欺骗我？” “我的朋友，倘若我是一位什么公爵夫人，倘若我有二十万利弗尔年金，那么我在做了您的情妇以后又有了另外一个情人的话，您也许就有权利来问我为什么欺骗您；但是我是玛格丽特?戈蒂埃小姐，我有的是四万法郎的债务，没有一个铜子的财产，而且每年还要花掉十万法郎，因此您的问题提得毫无意义，我回答您也是白费精神。” “真是这样，”我的头垂在玛格丽特的膝盖上说，“但是我发疯似地爱着您。” “那么，我的朋友，您就少爱我一些，多了解我一些。您的信使我很伤心，如果我的身子是自由的，首先我前天就不会接待伯爵，即使接待了他，我也会来求您原谅，就像您刚才求我原谅一样，而且以后除了您我也不会再有其他情人了。有一阵子我以为我也许能享受到六个月的清福，您又不愿意，您非要知道用的是什么方法，啊，天哪！用什么方法还用问吗？我采用这些方法时所作的牺牲比您想象的还要大，我本来可以对您说：我需要两万法郎；您眼下正在爱我，兴许会筹划到的，等过后可能就要埋怨我了。我情愿什么都不麻烦您，您不懂得我对您的体贴，因为这是我的一番苦心。我们这些女人，在我们还有一点良心的时候，我们说的话和做的事都有深刻的含义，这是别的女人所不能理解的；因此我再对您说一遍，对玛格丽特?戈蒂埃来说，她所找到的不向您要钱又能还清债务的方法是对您的体贴，您应该默不作声地受用的。如果您今天才认识我，那么您会对我答应您的事感到非常幸福，您也就不会盘问我前天干了些什么事。有时候我们被迫牺牲肉体以换得精神上的满足，但当精神上的满足也失去了以后，我们就更加觉得痛苦不堪了。” 我带着赞赏的心情听着和望着玛格丽特。当我想到这个人间尤物，过去我曾渴望吻她的脚，现在她却让我看到了她的思想深处，并让我成为她生活中的一员，而我现在对此却还不满意，我不禁自问，人类的欲望究竟还有没有个尽头。我这样快地实现了我的梦想，可我又在得寸进尺了。 “这是真的，”她接着说，“我们这些受命运摆布的女人，我们有一些古怪的愿望和不可思议的爱情。我们有时为了某一件事，有时候又为了另一件事而委身于人。有些人为我们倾家荡产，却一无所得，也有些人只用一束鲜花就换得了我们。我们凭一时高兴而随心所欲，这是我们仅有的消遣和唯一的借口。我委身于你①比谁都快，这我可以向你起誓，为什么呢？因为你看到我吐血就握住我的手，还流了眼泪，因为你是唯一真正同情我的人。我要告诉你一个笑话：从前我有一只小狗，当我咳嗽的时候，它总是用悲哀的神气瞅着我，它是我唯一喜爱过的动物。 ①在法语对话中一般用第二人称复数（您）代替第二人称单数（你），表示客气；但对亲密的人仍用第二人称单数（你）。本书中对称时，“您”、“你”有时换用，视当时讲话者的心情和场合而定。 “它死的时候，我哭得比死了亲娘还要伤心，我的的确确挨了我母亲十二年的打骂。就这样，我一下子就爱上了你，就像爱上了我的狗一样。如果男人们都懂得用眼泪可以换到些什么，他们就会更讨人的喜爱，我们也不会这样挥霍他们的钱财了。 “你的来信暴露了你的真相，这封信告诉我你的心里并不明白，从我对你的爱情来说，不管你对我做了什么事，也没有比这封信给我的伤害更大的了，要说这是嫉妒的结果，这也是真的，但是这种嫉妒是很可笑的，也是很粗暴的。当我收到你来信时，我已经够难受的了，本来我打算到中午去看你，和你一起吃午饭，只有在看到你以后，我才能抹掉始终纠缠在我脑海里的一些想法，而在认识你以前，这些事我是根本不当一回事的。 “而且，”玛格丽特继续说，“我相信也只有在你面前，我才可以推诚相见，无所不谈。那些围着像我一样的姑娘转的人都喜欢对她们的一言一语寻根究底，想在她们无意的行动里找出什么含义来。我们当然没有什么朋友，我们有的都是一些自私自利的情人，他们挥霍钱财并非像他们所说的是为了我们，而是为了他们自己的虚荣心。 “对于这些人，当他们开心的时候，我们必须快乐；当他们要吃夜宵的时候，我们必须精力充沛；当他们疑神疑鬼的时候，我们也要疑神疑鬼。我们这些人是不能有什么良心的，否则就要被嘲骂，就要被诋毁。 “我们已经身不由己了，我们不再是人，而是没有生命的东西。他们要满足自尊心时最先想到的是我们，但他们又把我们看得比谁都不如。我们有一些女朋友，但都是像普律当丝那样的女朋友，她们过去也是妓女，挥霍惯了，但现在人老了，不允许她们这样做了，于是，她们成了我们的朋友，更可以说成了我们的食客。她们的友情甚至到了可供驱使的地步，但从来也到不了无私的程度。她们总是给我们出些怎样捞钱的点子。只要她们能借此赚到一些衣衫和首饰，能经常乘着我们的车子出去逛逛，能坐在我们的包厢里看戏，我们即使有十几个情人也不关她们的事。她们拿去了我们前一天用过的花束，借用我们的开司米披肩。即使是一件芝麻绿豆大的小事，她们也要求我们双倍的谢礼，否则她们是不会为我们效劳的。那天晚上你不是亲眼看见了吗？普律当丝给我拿来了六千法郎，这是我请她到公爵那里替我要来的。她向我借去了五百法郎，这笔钱她是永远不会还我的，要么还我几顶用不着她们破费一个子儿的帽子。 “因此我们，或者不如说我，只能够有一种幸福，这就是找一个地位高的男人。像我这样一个多愁善感、日夜受病痛折磨的苦命人，唯一的幸福也就是找到一个因其超脱而不来过问我的生活的男人，他能成为一个重感情轻肉欲的情人。我过去找到过这个人，就是公爵，但公爵年事已高，既不能保护我又不能安慰我。我原以为能够接受他给我安排的生活，但是你叫我怎么办呢？我真厌烦死了。假如一个人注定要受煎熬而死，跳到大火中去烧死和用煤气来毒死不都是一个样吗！ “那时候，我遇到了你，你年轻、热情、快乐，我想使你成为我在表面热闹实际寂寞的生活中寻找的人。我在你身上所爱的，不是现在的人，而是以后应该变成的人。你不接受这个角色，认为这个角色对你不适合而拒不接受，那么你也不过是一个一般的情人；你就像别人一样付钱给我吧，别再谈这些事了。” 说过这段长长的表白后，玛格丽特很疲乏，她靠在沙发椅背上，为了忍住一阵因虚弱而引起的阵咳，她把手绢按在嘴唇上，甚至把眼睛都蒙上了。 “原谅我，原谅我，”我喃喃地说，“一切我自己也已经明白了，但是我愿意听你把这些说出来，我最最亲爱的玛格丽特，我们只要记住一件事，把其余的丢在脑后吧；那就是我们永不分离，我们年纪还很轻，我们相亲相爱。 “玛格丽特，随便你把我怎样都行，我是你的奴隶，你的狗；但是看在上天的份上，把我写给你的信撕掉吧，明天别让我走，否则我要死的。” 玛格丽特把我给她的信从她衣服的胸口里取出来，还给了我，她带着一种难以形容的微笑对我说： “看，我把信给你带来了。” 我撕掉了信，含着眼泪吻着她向我伸过来的手。 这时候普律当丝又来了。 “您说，普律当丝，您知道他要求我什么事？”玛格丽特说。 “他要求您原谅。” “正是这样。” “您原谅了吗？” “当然罗，但是他还有一个要求。” “什么要求？” “他要和我们一起吃夜宵。” “您同意了吗？” “您看呢？” “我看你们两个都是孩子，都很幼稚，但是我现在肚子已经很饿了，你们早一点讲好，我们就可以早一点吃夜宵。” “走吧，”玛格丽特说，“我们三个人一齐坐我的车子去好啦。”“喂！”她转身对我说，“纳尼娜就要睡觉了，您拿了我的钥匙去开门，注意别再把它丢了。” 我紧紧地拥抱着玛格丽特，差一点把她给闷死。 这时候约瑟夫进来了。 “先生，”他自鸣得意地说，“行李捆好了。” “全捆好了吗？” “是的，先生。” “那么，打开吧，我不走了。”

Chapter 14 WHEN I reached home, I began to weep like a child. There is not a man alive who has not been deceived at least once but does not know what it is to suffer so. Weighed down by the kind of fervent resolution which we always think we shall be strong enough to keep, I told myself that I had to put an end to this affair at once, and impatiently waited for morning to come so that I could go and buy a ticket and return to my father and my sister? twin loves on which I could count and which would never let me down. However, I did not want to go away without ensuring that Marguerite knew exactly why I was going. Only a man who is quite out of love with his mistress will leave her without writing. I wrote and rewrote a score of letters in my head. I had been dealing with a woman who was like all other kept women; I had poeticized her far too much. She had treated me like a school-boy and, to deceive me, had resorted to an insultingly simple ruse ?that much was clear. My pride then took over. I had to leave this woman without giving her the satisfaction of knowing how much our parting made me suffer, and this is what I wrote to her, in my most elegant hand and with tears of rage and pain in my eyes. 'My dear Marguerite, I trust that yesterday's indisposition has not proved too troublesome. I called, at eleven last evening, to ask after you, and was told you had not yet returned. Monsieur de G was altogether more fortunate, for he arrived a few moments later and was still with you at four o'clock this morning. Forgive me the tiresome few hours which I inflicted on you, and rest assured that I shall never forget the happy moments which I owe you. I would certainly have called to ask after you today, but I propose to return and join my father. Farewell, my dear Marguerite. I am neither rich enough to love you as I should wish, nor poor enough to love you as you would like. Let us both forget: you, a name which must mean very little to you, and I, happiness which has become impossible for me to bear. I am returning your key which I have never used and which you may find will answer some useful purpose, if you are often ill the way you were yesterday.' As you see, I did not have the strength to end my letter without a touch of supercilious irony, which only went to prove how much in love I still was. I read and reread my letter ten times over, and the thought of the pain it would cause Marguerite calmed me a little. I tried to live up to the bold note it had struck, and when, at eight o'clock, my servant answered my summons, I handed it to him to deliver at once. 'Must I wait for an answer?' Joseph asked. (My manservant was called Joseph. All manservants are called Joseph). 'If you are asked whether a reply is expected, you will say that you don't know, and you will wait.' I clung to hope that she would answer. Poor, weak creatures that we are! The whole of the time my servant was out, I remained in a state of extreme agitation. At some moments, recalling how completely Marguerite had given herself to me, I asked myself by what right had I written her an impertinent letter when she could quite well reply that it was not Monsieur de G who was deceiving me but I who was deceiving Monsieur de G ? which is an argument which allows many a woman to have more than one lover. At other moments, recalling the hussy's solemn oaths, I tried to convince myself that my letter had been far too mild and that there were no words strong enough to scourge a woman who could laugh at love as sincere as mine. Then again, I told myself that it would have been better not to write at all, but to have called on her during the day: in this way, I would have been there to enjoy the tears I made her weep. In the end, I came round to wondering what she would say in her answer, and I was already prepared to believe whatever excuse she gave me. Joseph returned. 'Well?' I said. 'Sir, ' he answered, 'Madame had not risen and was still asleep, but the moment she rings, the letter will be given to her and if there is a reply, it will be brought.' Asleep! A score of times I was on the point of sending round to get the letter back, but I persisted in telling myself: 'Perhaps someone has already given it to her, in which case I would look as though I was sorry I'd sent it.' The nearer it got to the time when it seemed most likely that she would give me an answer, the more I regretted having written. Ten o'clock, eleven o'clock, midday stuck. At noon, I was on the point of setting off for our rendezvous, as though nothing had happened. I was a complete loss for a way of a way of breaking out of iron ring that held me fast. Then, with the superstition of those who wait, I thought that if I went out for a while, I should find an answer when I got back. Replies which we await with impatience always come when we are not at home. I went out, ostensibly to lunch. Instead of lunching at the Cafe Foy, on the corner of the Boulevard, as was my custom, I thought I would have lunch in the Palais-Royal and go via the rue d'Antin. Every time I saw a woman in the distance, I thought it was Nanine bringing me a reply. I walked the length of the rue d'Antin without coming across any sort of messenger. I arrived at the Palais- Royal and went into Very's. The waiter gave me something to eat, or, more accurately, served me whatever he wished, for I ate nothing. Despite myself, my eyes remained fixed on the clock. I returned home, convinced that I would find a letter from Marguerite. The porter had received nothing for me. I still had hopes of my servant. He had seen no one since the time I went out. If Marguerite was going to give me an answer, she would have done so long before. I began to regret the terms of my letter; I should have remained totally silent, since this would doubtless have made her uneasy, and spurred her to make a move; for, seeing that I had not kept our appointment the previous day, she would have asked the reason for my absence and only then should I have given it. In this way, she would have had no alternative but to establish her innocence, and I wanted her to establish her innocence. I already sensed that whatever the excuses she gave me, I would have believed her, and I knew that I should have preferred anything than never to see her again. In the end, I fell to thinking that she would come herself, but the hours ticked by, and she did not come. Marguerite was clearly quite unlike other women, for there are not many who, on receiving a letter like the one I had just written, do not send some sort of reply. At five, I hurried to the Champs- Elysees. 'If I meet her, ' I thought, 'I shall appear unconcerned, and she will see that I have stopped thinking about her already.' On the corner of the rue Royale, I saw her drive past in her carriage. The encounter happened so suddenly that I felt myself grow pale. I have no idea if she noticed my reaction, for I was so taken aback that I saw only her carriage. I did not continue with my stroll to the Champs-Elysees. I looked at the theatre bills, for I still had one chance left of seeing her. There was a first night at the Palais-Royal. Marguerite would obviously be there. I was in the theatre at seven o'clock. All the boxes filled up, but Marguerite did not appear. After a while, I left the Palais-Royal and did the rounds of all the theatres where she went most often ?to the Vaudeville, the Varietes and the Opera- Comique. She was not at any of them. Either my letter had hurt her too much for her to be able to think of going to the theatre, or she was afraid of coming across me and wanted to avoid having things out. This is what my vanity was whispering in my ear on the Boulevard when I ran into Gaston who asked me where I had been. 'To the Palais-Royal.' 'I've been to the Opera, ' he said. 'I rather thought I'd see you there.' 'Why?' 'Because Marguerite was there.' 'Oh! Was she?' 'Yes.' 'On her own?' 'No, with one of her women friends.' 'Anyone else?' 'Count de G showed up in her box for a moment or two, but she went off with the Duke. I thought I'd see you appear any minute. I had a seat next to me which stayed empty the whole evening, and I was sure it had been paid for by you.' 'But why should I go wherever Marguerite goes?' 'Because, dammit, you're her lover!' 'And who told you that?' 'Prudence. I met her yesterday. I congratulate you, old boy. She's a pretty mistress to have, and it's not everybody that can have her. Hang on to her, she'll be a credit to you.' This straightforward observation of Gaston's showed me how ridiculously touchy I was being. If I had met him the previous evening and he had talked to me like this, I would never have written the stupid letter I had sent that morning. I was on the point of going round to Prudence's and sending word to Marguerite that I had to talk to her. But I was afraid that, to get back at me, she would send word that she could not see me, and I returned home after walking by the rue d'Antin. Once again I asked my porter if he had a letter for me. Nothing! 'She'll have wanted to see whether I'd try some new move and retract my letter today, ' I told myself as I got into bed, 'but when she sees I haven't written to her, she'll write to me tomorrow.' That night especially did I regret what I had done. I was alone in my apartment, unable to sleep, fretting with worry and jealousy whereas, by letting things take their true course, I should have been at Marguerite's side hearing her say those sweet words which I had heard on only two occasions, and which now made my ears burn in my loneliness. The most dreadful part of my predicament was that logic put me in the wrong. Indeed, all the indications were that Marguerite loved me. In the first place, there was her scheme for spending a whole summer alone with me in the country. Then there was the plain fact that there was nothing that obliged her to be my mistress, for the money I had was insufficient for her needs or even her whims. So there was nothing more to it, on her part, than the hope of finding sincere affection through me which would be a relief from the mercenary loves which beset her life. And now, on the second day, I was in the process of blighting that hope and repaying with high-handed irony the two nights of love which I had accepted! What I was doing was therefore worse than ridiculous: it was dishonest. Had I simply paid the woman back in order to have the right to pass judgment on her way of life? And did not withdrawing on the second day make me look like some parasite of love who is afraid he is about to be presented with the bill for his dinner? It was extraordinary! I had known Marguerite for thirty-six hours, I had been her lover for twenty-four of them, and was acting like some easily injured party. Far from being only too delighted that she should divide her affections to include me, I wanted to have her all to myself, I wanted to force her, at a stroke, to put an end to the affairs of her past which, of course, represented the income of her future. What cause had I to reproach her? None. She had written to tell me she was unwell when she could easily have said bluntly, with the appalling frankness of some women, that she was expecting a lover; and instead of going along with her letter, instead of taking a walk in any street in Paris except the rue d'Antin, instead of spending the evening with my friends and presenting myself the next day at the time she had indicated, I was behaving like Othello, spying on her, thinking I was punishing her by not seeing her any more. But quite the reverse: she was probably delighted by this separation and must have thought me supremely inane. Her silence was nothing so grand as rancour: it was contempt. At this point, I should have given Marguerite some present or other which would have left her in no doubt about my liberality and also allowed me, because I had treated her like any other kept woman, to believe that I had no further obligations towards her. But I felt that with the least hint of trade, I should degrade, if not the love she had for me, then at least the love I had for her; and since this love of mine was so pure that it refused to be shared with others, it was incapable of offering a present, however fine, as payment in full for the happiness, however brief, I had been given. This is what I kept telling myself over and over that night. I was ready at any moment to go and say it all to Marguerite. When morning came, I was still awake and feverish. I could not think of anything but Marguerite. As you will appreciate, I had to decide one way or the other: to have done either with the woman or my scruples ?always assuming, of course, that she would still agree to go on seeing me. But, as you know, one always puts off taking crucial decisions: as a result, neither able to stay in my rooms nor daring to wait upon Marguerite, I embarked on a course of action that might lead to a reconciliation which, should it succeed, my pride could always blame on chance. It was nine o'clock. I hurried round to Prudence's. She asked me to what she owed this early call. I did not dare say openly what brought me. I replied that I had gone out early to book a seat on the coach for C, where my father lived. 'You are very lucky, ' she said, 'to be able to get out of Paris in such marvellous weather.' I looked hard at Prudence, wondering whether she was laughing at me. But her face was serious. 'Are you going to say goodbye to Marguerite?' she went on, with the same seriousness. 'No.' 'Very wise.' 'You think so?' 'Of course. Since you've finished with her, what's the point of seeing her again?' 'So you know it's all over?' 'She showed me your letter.' 'And what did she say?' 'She said: "My dear Prudence, your protege has no manners. People compose letters like this in their heads, but no one actually writes them down."' 'And how did she say it?' 'She was laughing. And she also said: "He came to supper twice and now won't even make his party call."' So this was all the effect my letter and jealous torments had produced! I was cruelly humiliated in my pride of love. 'And what did she do yesterday evening?' 'She went to the Opera.' 'I know. But afterwards?' 'She had supper at home.' 'Alone?' 'With Count de G, I believe.' So the break I had made had altered nothing in Marguerite's habits. It is because of moments like this that some people will tell you: "You shouldn't have given the woman another moment's thought. She clearly didn't love you." 'Ah well, I'm very pleased to see that Marguerite isn't pining for me, ' I went on, with a forced smile. 'And she's absolutely right. You did what you had to. You've been much more sensible than her, for she really loved you. All she did was talk about you, and she might have ended up doing something silly.' 'If she loves me, why didn't she reply?' 'Because she realized that she was wrong to love you. And besides, women will sometimes allow a man to take advantage of their love but not to injure their pride, and a man always injures a woman's pride when two days after becoming her lover, he leaves her, whatever reason he gives for doing so. I know Marguerite; she'd sooner die than give you an answer.' 'What should I do, then?' 'Nothing. She will forget you, you will forget her and neither of you will have anything to reproach each other for.' 'What if I wrote asking her to forgive me?' 'Don't. She would.' I nearly flung my arms around Prudence. A quarter of an hour later, I was back in my rooms and writing to Marguerite. 'Someone who repents of a letter which he wrote yesterday, someone who will go away tomorrow if you do not forgive him, wishes to know at what time be may call and lay his repentance at your feet. When will be find you alone? For, as you know, confessions should always be made without witnesses.' I folded this kind of madrigal in prose and sent Joseph with it. He handed it to Marguerite herself, and she told him that she would reply later. I went out only for a moment, to dine, and at eleven in the evening still had no reply. I resolved that I should suffer no more and leave the next day. Having made up my mind, knowing that I would not sleep if I went to bed, I began to pack my trunks. 第十四章 一回到家里，我像个孩子似的哭了起来。凡是受过哪怕只有一次欺骗的男人就不会不知道我是多么痛苦。 我一肚子难忍的怒火，暗暗痛下决心：必须立即和这种爱情一刀两断。我迫不及待地等待着天明后去预订车票，回到我父亲和妹妹那儿去，他们两人对我的爱是没有疑问的，也决不会是虚情假意。 但是我又不愿意在玛格丽特还没有弄清楚我离开她的原因之前就走。作为一个男人，只有在跟他的情人恩断义绝的时候才会不告而别。 我反复思考着应该怎样来写这封信。 我的这位姑娘和所有其他的妓女没有什么两样，以前我太抬举她了，她把我当小学生看待。为了欺骗我，她耍了一个简单的手段来侮辱我，这难道还不清楚吗？这时，我的自尊心就占了上风。必须离开这个女人，还不能让她因为知道了这次破裂使我很痛苦而感到高兴。我眼里噙着恼怒和痛苦的泪水，用最端正的字体给她写了下面这封信： 亲爱的玛格丽特： 我希望您昨天的不适对健康没有多大影响。昨天晚上十一点钟，我来打听过您的消息，有人回答说您还没有回来。G先生比我幸运，因为在我之后不久他就到您那儿去了，直到清晨四点钟他还在您那里。 请原谅我使您度过了一些难受的时刻，不过请放心，我永远也忘不了您赐给我的那段幸福时刻。 今天我本应该去打听您的消息，但是我要回到我父亲那里去了。 再见吧，亲爱的玛格丽特，我希望自己能像一个百万富翁似地爱您，但是我力不从心；您希望我能像一个穷光蛋似地爱您，我却又不是那么一无所有。那么让我们大家都忘记了吧，对您来说是忘却一个几乎是无关紧要的名字，对我来说是忘却一个无法实现的美梦。 我奉还您的钥匙，我还未用过它，它对您会有用的，假如您经常像昨天那样不舒服的话。 您看到了，如果不狠狠地嘲笑她一下，我是无法结束这封信的，这证明我心里还是多么爱她啊。 我把这封信反复看了十来遍，想到这封信会使玛格丽特感到痛苦，我心里稍许平静了一些。我竭力使自己保持住信里装出来的感情。当我的仆人在八点钟走进我的房间时，我把信交给他，要他马上送去。 “是不是要等回信？”约瑟夫——我的仆人像所有的仆人一样都叫约瑟夫——问我。 “如果有人问您要不要回信，您就说您什么也不知道，但您要等着。” 我希望她会给我回信。 我们这些人是多么可怜，多么软弱啊！ 在约瑟夫去送信的那段时间内，我心情激动到了顶点。一会儿我想起了玛格丽特是怎样委身于我的，我自问我究竟有什么权利写这样一封唐突无礼的信给她，她可以回答我说不是G先生欺骗了我，而是我欺骗了G先生，一些情人众多的女人都是这样为自己辩解的；一会儿我又想起了这个姑娘的誓言，我要使自己相信我的信写得还是太客气，那里面并没有什么严厉的字句足以惩罚一个玩弄我纯洁的爱情的女人。随后，我又想还是不给她写信，而是在白天到她家里去的好，这样我就会因为看到她掉眼泪而感到痛快。 最后我寻思她将怎样答复我，我已经准备接受她即将给我的解释。 约瑟夫回来了。 “怎么样？”我问他。 “先生，”他回答我说，“夫人在睡觉，还没有醒，但是只要她拉铃叫人，就会有人把信给她，如果有回信，他们会送来的。” 她还睡着哪！ 有多少次我几乎要派人去把这封信取回来，但是我总是这样想： “信可能已经交给她了，如果我派人去取信的话，就显得我在后悔了。” 越是接近应该收到她回信的时刻，我越是后悔不应该写那封信。 十点，十一点，十二点都敲过了。 十二点的时候，我几乎要像什么事也没有发生过似的去赴约会了，最后我左思右想不知如何来挣脱这个使我窒息的束缚。 像有些心中有所期待的人一样，我也有一种迷信的想法，认为只要我出去一会儿，回来时就会看到回信。因为人们焦急地等待着的回信总是在收信人不在家的时候送到的。 我借口吃午饭上街去了。 我平时习惯在街角的富瓦咖啡馆用午餐，今天我却没有去，而宁愿穿过昂坦街，到王宫大街去吃午饭。每逢我远远看到一个妇人，就以为是纳尼娜给我送回信来了。我经过昂坦街，却没有碰到一个送信人。我到了王宫大街，走进了韦利饭店，侍者侍候我吃饭，更可以说他把能想到的菜全给我端来了，因为我没有吃。 我的眼睛不由自主地一直盯着墙上的时钟看。 我回到家里，深信马上就会收到玛格丽特的回信。 看门人什么也没有收到。我还希望信已经交给仆人，但是他在我出门后没有看到有谁来过。 如果玛格丽特给我写回信的话，她早就该给我写了。 于是，我对那封信里的措辞感到后悔了，我本来应该完全保持缄默，这样她可能会感到不安而有所行动；因为她看到我没有去赴上一天讲好的约会就会问我失约的原因，只有在这时候我才能把原因告诉她；这样一来，她除了为自己辩解以外，没有其他的办法。而我所要的也就是她的辩解。我已经觉得，不管她提出什么辩解的理由，我都会相信的，只要能再见到她，我什么都愿意。 我还以为她会亲自登门，但是时间一小时一小时地过去，她并没有来。 玛格丽特的确与别的女人不一样，因为很少女人在收到像我刚才写的那样一封信以后会毫无反应。 五点钟，我奔向香榭丽舍大街。 “如果我遇到她的话，”我心里想，“我要装出一副满不在乎的样子，那么她就会相信我已经不再想她了。” 在王宫大街拐角上，我看见她乘着车子经过，这次相遇是那么突然，我的脸都发白了，我不知道她是否看出我内心的激动；我是那么慌张，只看到了她的车子。 我不再继续在香榭丽舍大街散步，而去浏览剧院的海报： 我还有一个看到她的机会。 在王宫剧院，有一次首场演出，玛格丽特是必去无疑的。 我七点钟到了剧院。 所有的包厢都坐满了，但是玛格丽特没有来。 于是，我离开了王宫剧院，凡是她经常去的剧院我一家一家都跑遍了：歌舞剧院、杂耍剧院、喜剧歌剧院。 到处都找不到她的影踪。 要么我的信使她过于伤心，她连戏都不想看了；要么她怕跟我见面，免得作一次解释。 这些都是我走在大街上时由虚荣心引起的想法。突然我碰到了加斯东，他问我从哪儿来。 “从王宫剧院来。” “我从大歌剧院来，”他对我说，“我还以为您也在那里呢。” “为什么？” “因为玛格丽特在那儿。” “啊！她在那儿吗？” “在那儿。” “一个人吗？” “不是，跟一个女朋友在一起。” “没有别人吗？” “G伯爵到她包厢里待了一会儿，但是她跟公爵一块儿走了。我一直以为您也会去的。我旁边有一个位子今天晚上一直空着，我还以为这个座位是您订下的呢。” “但是为什么玛格丽特到那儿去，我也得跟着去呢？” “因为您是她的情人嘛，不是吗？” “那是谁对您说的？” “普律当丝呀，我是昨天遇到她的。我祝贺您，我亲爱的，这可是一个不太容易到手的漂亮情妇哪，别让她跑了，她会替您争面子的。” 加斯东这个简单的反应，说明我的敏感有多么可笑。 如果我昨天就遇到他，而且他也跟我这样讲的话，我肯定不会写早上那封愚蠢的信。 我几乎马上想到普律当丝家里去，要她去对玛格丽特说我有话对她说，但是我又怕她为了报复而拒绝接待我。于是，我又经过昂坦街回到了家里。 我又问了看门人有没有给我的信。 没有！ 我躺在床上想：“她大概要看看我还会耍什么新花样，看看我是不是想收回我今天早上的信。但是她看到我没有再给她写信，明天她就会写信给我的。” 那天晚上我对自己的所作所为感到后悔莫及，我孤零零地呆在家里，不能入睡，心里烦躁不安，妒火中烧。想当初如果听任事情自然发展的话，我此刻大概正偎依在玛格丽特的身旁，听着她的绵绵情话，这些话我总共才听到过两次，每当我一个人想起这些话时，我都会两耳发热。 那时候我觉得最可怕的就是：理智告诉我是我错了；事实上，无论从哪个角度去想，都应该说玛格丽特是爱我的。第一，她准备跟我两个人单独到乡下去避暑；第二，没有任何原因迫使她做我的情妇。我的财产是不够她日常开销的，甚至还满足不了她一时兴起的零星开支。因此，她唯一有希望在我身上得到的是一种真诚的感情。她的生活充满了商业性的爱情，这种真诚的感情能使她得到休息；我却在第二天就毁了她这种希望，她两夜的恩情换来的是我无情的嘲笑。因此我的行为不但很可笑，而且很粗暴。我又没有付过她一个钱，哪有权利来谴责她的生活？我第二天就溜之大吉，这不就像一个情场上的寄生虫，生怕别人拿帐单要他付饭钱么？怎么！我认识玛格丽特才三十六个小时，做她的情人才二十四个小时，我就在跟她怄气了！她能分身来爱我，我非但不感到幸福，还想一人独占她，强迫她一下子就割断她过去的一切关系，而这些关系是她今后的生活来源。我凭什么可以责备她？一点也没有。她完全可以和某些大胆泼辣的女人一样，直截了当地告诉我说她要接待另外一个情人，但她没有这样做，她写信对我说她不舒服。我没有相信她信里的话，我没有到除了昂坦街以外的巴黎各条街道上去溜达，我没有跟朋友们一起去消磨这个晚上，等到第二天在她指定的时间再去会她，却扮演起奥赛罗①的角色来了，我窥视她的行动，自以为不再去看她是对她的惩罚。实际上恰恰相反，她应该为这种分离感到高兴，她一定觉得我愚蠢到极点，她的沉默甚至还谈不上是怨恨我，而是看不起我。 ①莎士比亚名剧《奥赛罗》中的主角，后比喻所有嫉妒、多疑和凶暴的丈夫。 那么我是不是该像对待一个妓女似的送玛格丽特一件礼物，别让她怀疑我吝啬刻薄，这样我们之间就两讫了；但是我不愿我们的爱情沾上一点点铜臭味，否则的话，即使不是贬低了她对我的爱情，至少也是玷污了我对她的爱情。再说既然这种爱情是那么纯洁，容不得别人染指，那么更不能用一件礼品——不论这件礼品有多么贵重——来偿付它赐予的幸福——无论这个幸福是多么短暂。 这就是我那天晚上翻来覆去所想的，也是我随时准备要去向玛格丽特说的。 一直到天亮我还没有睡着，我发烧了，除了玛格丽特外我什么都不想。 您也懂得，必须做出果断的决定：要么跟这个女人一刀两断；要么从此不再多心猜疑，如果她仍然肯接待我的话。 但是您也知道，在下决心以前总是要踌躇再三的。我在家里呆不住，又不敢到玛格丽特那里去，我就想法子去接近她，一旦成功的话，就可以说是出于偶然，这样我的面子也能保住了。 九点钟到了，我匆匆赶到普律当丝家里，她问我一清早去找她有什么事。 我不敢直率地告诉她我是为什么去的，我只是告诉她我一大早出门是为了在去C城的公共马车上订一个座位：我父亲住在C城。 “能在这样的好天气离开巴黎，”她对我说，“您真是好福气。” 我望望普律当丝，寻思她是不是在讥笑我。 但是她脸上的神态是一本正经的。 “您是去向玛格丽特告别吗？”她又接着说，脸上还是那么严肃。 “不是的。” “这样很好。” “您以为这样好吗？” “当然啦，既然您已经跟她吹了，何必再去看她呢？” “那么您知道我们吹了？” “她把您的信给我看了。” “那么她对您说什么啦？” “她对我说：‘亲爱的普律当丝，您那位宝贝不懂礼貌，这种信只能在心里想想，哪能写出来呢。’” “她是用什么语气对您说的？” “是笑着说的，她还说：‘他在我家里吃过两次夜宵，连上门道谢都还没有来过呢。’” 这就是我的信和我的嫉妒所产生的结果。我在爱情方面的虚荣心受到了残酷的损伤。 “昨天晚上她在干什么？” “她到大歌剧院去了。” “这我知道，后来呢？” “她在家里吃夜宵。” “一个人吗？” “我想，是跟G伯爵一起吧。” 这样说来我和她的决裂丝毫没有改变玛格丽特的习惯。 遇到这样的情况，有些人就会对您说： “决不要再去想这个不爱您的女人了。” 我勉强笑了笑说：“好吧，看到玛格丽特没有为我而感到难过，我很高兴。” “她这样做是很合情理的。您已经做了您应该做的事，您比她更理智些，因为这个姑娘爱着您，她一张口就谈到您，她是什么蠢事都做得出来的。” “既然她爱我，为什么不给我写回信呢？” “因为她已经知道她是不该爱您的。再说女人们有时候能容忍别人在爱情上欺骗她们，但决不允许别人伤害她们的自尊心，尤其是一个人做了她两天情人就离开她，那么不管这次决裂原因何在，总是要伤害一个女人的自尊心的。我了解玛格丽特，她宁死也不会给您写回信的。” “那么我该怎么办呢？” “就此拉倒，她会忘记您，您也会忘记她，你们双方谁也别埋怨谁。” “但是如果我写信求她饶恕呢？” “千万不要这样做，她可能会原谅您的。” 我差一点跳起来搂普律当丝的脖子。 一刻钟以后，我回到家里，接着就给玛格丽特写信。 有一个人对他昨天写的信表示后悔，假使您不宽恕他，他明天就要离开巴黎，他想知道什么时候可以拜倒在您脚下，倾诉他的悔恨。 什么时候您可以单独会见他？因为您知道，做忏悔的时候是不能有旁人在场的。 我把这封用散文写的情诗折了起来，差约瑟夫送去，他把信交给了玛格丽特本人，她回答说她过一会儿就写回信。 我一直没有出门，只是在吃饭的时候才出去了一会儿，一直到晚上十一点我还没有收到她的回信。 我不能再这样痛苦下去了，决定明天就动身。 由于下了这个决心，我深知即便躺在床上，我也是睡不着的，我便动手收拾行李。

Chapter 13 'YOU got here almost as quickly as we did, ' said Prudence. 'Yes, ' I replied mechanically. 'Where's Marguerite?' 'In her apartment.' 'By herself?' 'With Monsieur de G.' I strode up and down in her drawing-room. 'Whatever's the matter with you?' 'Do you imagine I think it's funny waiting around like this for Monsieur de G to come out of Marguerite's?' 'You're being unreasonable too. You must understand that Marguerite can't show the Count the door. Monsieur de G has been with her a long time now; he's always given her a lot of money. He still does. Marguerite spends more than a hundred thousand francs a year; she has huge debts. The Duke sends her whatever she asks him for, but she doesn't always dare ask for everything she needs. She can't afford to fall out with the Count who gives her around ten thousand francs a year at least. Marguerite really loves you, my dear, but your affair with her mustn't get serious both for her sake and yours. Your allowance of seven or eight thousand francs wouldn't be anything like enough to pay for her extravagance; it won't even run to the upkeep of her carriage. Just take Marguerite for what she is ?a good- hearted, lively, pretty girl. Be her lover for a month, two months. Give her flowers, buy her sweets, pay for boxes at the theatre. But don't go getting any other ideas, and don't go in for silly jealous scenes. You know what sort of girl you're dealing with: Marguerite's no saint. She likes you, you love her, leave it at that. I think you're foolish to get so touchy! You have the sweetest mistress in the whole of Paris! She receives you in a magnificent apartment, she's covered in diamonds, she needn't cost you a penny unless you decide otherwise, and you're still not satisfied. Hang it all, you expect too much!' 'You're quite right, but I can't help it. The thought that this man is her lover is agony.' 'To begin with, ' Prudence went on, 'is he still her lover? He's just a man that she needs, that's all. For two days now, she's closed her door to him. He came this morning. She had no alternative: she had to accept the tickets for the box and say he could escort her. He brought her home, he came up for a moment, but won't stay, or otherwise you wouldn't be waiting here. All very natural, as I see it. Anyhow, you don't mind the Duke?' 'No, but he's an old man, and I'm sure Marguerite isn't his mistress. In any case, a man can often put up with one affair, but not two. Even so, the ease with which he tolerates such an arrangement can look suspiciously calculating. It brings anyone who submits to it, even if he does so out of love, very close to people just one step beneath who make a business out of submitting and a profit out of their business.' 'Ah, dear man! How behind the times you are! How many times have I seen the noblest, the most fashionable, the wealthiest men do what I now advise, and they have done it without fuss or shame or remorse! It happens every day of the week. How do you imagine all the kept women in Paris could carry on living the kind of lives they lead if they didn't have three of four lovers at the same time? There isn't a man around, however much money he had, who'd be rich enough to cover the expenses of a woman like Marguerite by himself. A private income of five hundred thousand francs is a colossal fortune in France; well, dear man, a private income of five hundred thousand francs wouldn't do it, and here's why. A man who has an income like that has an established household, horses, servants, carriages, hunting estates, friends; often he is married, he has children, he keeps a racing stable, he gambles, travels and a lot more besides. All these habits are so firmly rooted that he cannot drop them without appearing to be ruined and becoming the talk of the town. All in all, with five hundred thousand francs a year, he can't give a woman more than forty or fifty thousand in any twelve months, and even that's a great deal. So other lovers must make up the woman's annual expenditure. With Marguerite, it works out even more conveniently. By a miracle of heaven, she's got in with a rich old man worth ten millions whose wife and daughter are both dead and whose surviving relatives are nephews with a lot of money of their own. He gives her everything she wants without asking anything in exchange. But she can't ask him for more than seventy thousand francs a year, and I'm sure that if she did, then in spite of all his money and his affection for her, he would say no. 'All those young men in Paris with incomes of twenty or thirty thousand francs, that is with barely enough to get by in the circles they move in, are all quite aware, when they are the lovers of a woman like Marguerite, that their mistress couldn't even pay the rent or her servants on what they give her. They don't ever say that they know. They just appear not to see anything and, when they've had enough, they move on. If they are vain enough to want to provide for everything, they ruin themselves like idiots, and go off to get themselves killed in Africa, leaving a hundred thousand francs' worth of debts in Paris. And do you imagine that the woman is grateful? Not a bit of it. The very opposite. She'll say that she sacrificed her position for them, and that as long as she was with them she was losing money. Ah! all these dealings strike you as shameful, don't they? But it's all true. You are a nice boy and I couldn't be fonder of you. I've lived among women like these for twenty years, and I know what they're like and what sort of stuff they're made of. I wouldn't want to see you taking to heart a caprice which some pretty girl has for you. 'Anyway, on top of all that, ' Prudence continued, 'let's say Margurite loves you enough to give up the Count and even the Duke, if the Duke should find out about your affair and tell her to choose between you and him. If that happened, then the sacrifice which she'd be making for you would be enormous, no question about it. What sacrifice could you make to match hers? When you'd had enough of her and didn't want to have anything more to do with her, what would you do to compensate her for what you'd made her lose? Nothing. You would have cut her off from the world in which her fortune and her future lay, she would have given you her best years, and she would be forgotten. Then you'd either turn out to be the usual sort and throw her past in her face, telling her as you walked out that you were only behaving like all her other lovers, and you'd abandon her to certain poverty. Or else you would behave correctly and, believing you had an obligation to keep her by you, you'd land yourself inevitably in trouble, for an affair such as this, forgiveable in a young man, is inexcusable in older men. It becomes an obstacle to everything. It stands in the way of family and ambition which are a man's second and last loves. So believe me, my friend, take things for what they are worth and women as they are, and never give a kept woman any right to say that you owe her anything whatsoever.' All this was sensibly argued, and it had a logic of which I would not have thought Prudence capable. I could think of nothing to say in reply, except that she was right; I gave her my hand and thanked her for her advice. 'Come, come, ' she said, 'now just forget all this gloomy theorizing and laugh. Life is delightful, my dear, it all depends on the prism you look at it through. Listen, ask your friend Gaston. Now there's someone who strikes me as understanding love as I understand it. What you've got to realize ?and you'll be a dull lad if you don't ?is that not far from here there's a beautiful girl who is waiting impatiently to see the back of the man she's with, who is thinking about you, who is keeping tonight for you and who I'm sure loves you. Now come and stand by the window with me, and we'll watch the Count leave: it won't be long now before he leaves the field clear for us.' Prudence opened a window and we leaned on our elbows side by side on the balcony. She watched the occasional passers-by. I stood musing. Everything she had said reverberated inside my head, and I could not help admitting that she was right. But the true love I felt for Marguerite was not easily reconciled with her arguments. Consequently, I heaved intermittent sighs which made Prudence turn round and shrug her shoulders, like a doctor who has lost all hope of a patient. 'How clearly we see how brief life is, ' I said to myself, 'in the fleeting passage of our sensations! I have known Marguerite for only two days, she has been my mistress since just yesterday, and yet she has so overrun my thoughts, my heart and my life that a visit from this Count de G can make me wretched.' Finally, the Count emerged, got into his carriage and drove off. Prudence closed her window. At the same instant, Marguerite was already calling us. 'Come quickly, the table is being set, ' she said, 'and we'll have supper.' When I entered her apartment, Marguerite ran towards me, threw her arms around my neck and kissed me with all her might. 'Are we still grumpy, then?' she said to me. 'No, that's all finished with, ' answered Prudence, 'I've been telling him a few home-truths, and he's promised to be good.' 'Wonderful!' Despite myself, I cast a glance in the direction of the bed. It had not been disturbed: as for Marguerite, she had already changed into a white dressing-gown. We sat down at table. Charm, sweetness, high-spirits ?Marguerite had everything, and from time to time I had to admit that I had no right to ask anything else of her, that many a man would be happy to be in my shoes and that, like Virgil's shepherd, I had only to partake of the easy times which a god, or rather a goddess, held out to me. I tried to put Prudence's theories into practice and be as gay as my two companions. But what came naturally to them was an effort for me, and my excited laughter, which they misunderstood, was very close to tears. At length, supper ended and I remained alone with Marguerite. As was her habit, she went and sat on her rug in front of the fire and looked sadly into the flames in the hearth. She was thinking! Of what? I cannot say. But I looked at her with love and almost with dread at the thought of what I was prepared to suffer for her sake. 'Do you know what I was thinking?' 'No.' 'About this scheme I've hit on.' 'And what is this scheme?' 'I can't tell you yet, but I can tell you what'll happen if it works. What would happen is that is a month from now I'd be free, I wouldn't have any more debts, and we'd go and spend the summer in the country together.' 'And can't you tell me how this is to be managed?' 'No. All it needs is for you to love me as I love you, and everything will come out right.' 'And did you hit on this scheme all by yourself?' 'Yes.' 'And you will see it through alone?' 'I'll have all the worry myself, ' Marguerite said with a smile which I shall never forget, 'but we will both share the profits.' I recalled Manon Lescaut running through M. de B's money with Des Grieux. I answered a little roughly as I got to my feet: 'You will be good enough, my dear Marguerite, to allow me to share the profits of only those enterprises which I myself contrive and execute.' 'And what does that mean?' 'It means that I strongly suspect that Count de G is your associate in this splendid scheme, of which I accept neither the costs nor the profits.' 'Don't be childish. I thought you loved me, but I was wrong. As you wish.' And, so saying, she got up, opened her piano and once more began playing The Invitation to the Waltz as for as the famous passage in the major key which always got the better of her. Was this done out of habit, or was it to remind me of the day we first met? All I know is that with this tune, the memories came flooding back and, drawing close to her, I took her head in my hands and kissed her. 'Do you forgive me?' I said. 'Can't you tell?' she answered. 'But note that this is just our second day, and already I've got something to forgive you for. You're not very good at keeping your promises of blind obedience.' 'I'm sorry, Marguerite, I love you too much, and I just have to know everything you think. What you suggested just now should make me jump for joy, but your mysteriousness about what happens before the plan is carried out makes my heart sink.' 'Oh come now, let's talk about this seriously for a moment, ' she went on, taking my two hands and looking at me with a bewitching smile which I was quite incapable of resisting. 'You love me, do you not, and you'd be happy to spend three or four months alone with me in the country? I too would be happy for us to be alone together, not just happy to go away with you but I need to for my health. I can't leave Paris for so long without putting my affairs in order, and the affairs of a woman like me are invariably very tangled. Well, I've found a way of bringing it all together ?my affairs and my love for you, yes, you, don't laugh, I'm mad enough to be in love with you! And then you get all hoity-toity and start coming out with fine words. Silly boy! Silly, silly boy! Just remember that I love you and don't worry your head about a thing. Well, is it agreed?' 'Everything you want is agreed, as you know very well.' 'In that case, a month from now we'll be in some village or other, strolling by the river and drinking milk. It must sound odd to you hearing me, Marguerite Gautier, talk like this. The fact is, my dear, that when life in Paris, which ostensibly makes me so happy, is not burning me out, it bores me. When that happens, I get sudden yearnings to lead a quieter life which would remind me of my childhood. Everybody, whatever has become of them since, has had a childhood. Oh! don't worry, I'm not about to tell you that I'm the daughter of a retired colonel and that I was raised at Saint- Denis. I'm just a poor girl from the country who couldn't even write her name six years ago. I expect you're relieved, aren't you! Why is it that you should be the first man I've ever approached to share the joy of the desire which has come upon me? I suppose it's because I sensed that you loved me for my sake and not for yours, whereas the others never loved me except for themselves. 'I've been to the country many times, but never the way I should have liked. I'm counting on you to provide the simple happiness I want. Don't be unkind: indulge me. Tell yourself this: "She's not likely to live to be old, and some day I should be sorry I didn't do the very first thing she ever asked me, for it was such a simple thing."' What answer could I give to such words, especially with the memory of a first night of love behind me and with the prospect of a second to come? An hour later, I was holding Marguerite in my arms, and if she had asked me to commit a crime for her, I would have obeyed. I left her at six in the morning. Before I went, I said: 'Shall I see you this evening?' She kissed me harder, but did not reply. During the day, I received a letter containing these words: 'Darling boy, I'm not very well and the doctor has told me to rest, I shall go to bed early tonight and so shall not see you. But, as a reward, I shall expect you tomorrow at noon. I love you.' My first thought was: 'She's deceiving me!' An icy sweat broke out on my forehead, for I was already too much in love with her not to be aghast at the thought. And yet I was going to have to expect it to happen almost daily with Marguerite; it had often happened with my other mistresses without it ever bothering me too much. How was it then that this woman had such power over my life? Then, since I had the key to her apartment, I thought I might call and see her as usual. In this way, I should know the truth soon enough, and if I found a man there, I would offer to give him satisfaction. To while away the time, I went to the Champs-Elysees. I stayed there for four hours. She did not make an appearance. In the evening, I looked in at all the theatres where she usually went. She was not in any of them. At eleven o'clock, I made my way to the rue d'Antin. There was no light in any of Marguerite's windows. Even so, I rang. The porter asked me where I wanted to go. 'To Mademoiselle Gautier's, ' I said. 'She's not back.' 'I'll go up and wait.' 'There's nobody in.' Of course, he had his orders which I could have circumvented since I had a key, but I was afraid of an embarrassing scene and went away. But I did not go home. I could not leave the street and did not take my eyes off Marguerite's house for a moment. I felt that I still had something to learn, or at least that my suspicions were about to be confirmed. About midnight, a brougham, which was all too familiar, pulled up near number 9. Count de G got out and went into the house after dismissing his coach. For a moment, I hoped that he was about to be told, as I had been, that Marguerite was not at home, and that I should see him come out again. But I was still waiting at four in the morning. These last three weeks, I have suffered a great deal. But it has been nothing compared with what I suffered that night. 第十三章 “您来得几乎跟我们一样快！”普律当丝对我说。 “是的，”我不假思索地回答说，“玛格丽特在哪儿？” “在家里。” “一个人吗？” “跟G伯爵在一起。” 我跨着大步在客厅里来回走着。 “嗳，您怎么啦？” “您以为我在这儿等着G伯爵从玛格丽特家里出来很有趣吗？” “您太不通情理了。要知道玛格丽特是不能请伯爵吃闭门羹的。G伯爵跟她来往已经很久，他一直给她很多钱，现在还在给她。玛格丽特一年要花十多万法郎，她欠了很多债。只要她开口，公爵总能满足她的要求，但是她不敢要公爵负担全部开销。伯爵每年至少给她万把法郎，她不能和他闹翻。玛格丽特非常爱您，亲爱的朋友，但是您跟她的关系，为了你们各自的利益，您不应该看得过于认真的。您那七八千法郎的津贴费是不够这个姑娘挥霍的，连维修她的马车也不够。您要恰如其分地把玛格丽特当作一个聪明美丽的好姑娘对待；做她一两个月的情人，送点鲜花、糖果和包厢票给她，其他的事您就不必操心啦！别再跟她闹什么争风吃醋的可笑把戏了。您很清楚您是在跟谁打交道，玛格丽特又不是什么贞洁女人，她很喜欢您，您也很喜欢她，其他的您就不用管了。我认为您这样容易动感情是很可爱的！您有巴黎最讨人喜欢的女人做情妇！她满身戴着钻石，在富丽堂皇的住宅里接待您，只要您愿意，她又不要您花一个子儿，而您还要不高兴。真见鬼！您的要求也太过分了。” “您说得对，但是我没法控制自己，一想到这个人是她的情人，我心里就别扭。” “不过，”普律当丝接着说，“先得看看他现在还是不是她的情人？只是用得着他罢了，仅此而已。 “两天以来，玛格丽特没有让他进门，今天早上他来，她没有办法，只能接受了他的包厢票，让他陪着去看戏，接着又送她回家，到她家里去坐一会。既然您在这儿等着，他不会久留的。依我看，这一切都是很平常的事。再说，您对公爵不是也容忍下来了吗？” “是的，可是公爵是个老头儿呀，我拿得准玛格丽特不是他的情妇。再说，人们一般也只能容忍一个这样的关系，哪里还能容忍两个呢。行这种方便真像是一个圈套，同意这样做的男人，即便是为了爱情也罢，活像下层社会里用这种默许的方法去赚钱的人一样。” “啊！我亲爱的，您太老脑筋了！我见过多少人而且还都是些最高贵，最英俊，最富有的人，他们都在做我劝您做的这种事。何况干这种事又不费什么力气，用不到害臊，大可问心无愧！这样的事司空见惯。而且作为巴黎的妓女，她们不同时有那么三四个情人的话，您要她们怎样来维持那样的排场呢？不可能有谁有一笔那么巨大的家产来独力承担像玛格丽特那样一个姑娘的花费的。每年有五十万法郎的收入，在法国也可算是一个大财主了。可是，我亲爱的朋友，有了五十万法郎的年金还是应付不了，这是因为：一个有这样一笔进款的男人，总有一座豪华的住宅，还有一些马匹、仆役、车辆，还要打打猎，还要应酬交际。一般说一个这样的人总是结过婚的，他有孩子，要跑马，要赌钱，要旅行，谁知道他还要干些什么！这些生活习惯已经根深蒂固，一旦改变，别人就要以为他破产了，就会有流言蜚语。这样算下来，这个人即使每年有五十万法郎的收入，他一年里面花在一个女人身上的钱决不能超过四万到五万法郎，这已经是相当多的了。那么，这个女人就需要别的情人来弥补她开支的不足，玛格丽特已经算是不错的了，像天上掉下了奇迹似的遇上了一个有万贯家财的老头儿，他的妻子和女儿又都死掉了，他的那些侄子外甥自己也很有钱。因此玛格丽特可以有求必应，不必付什么代价，但即便他是这么一个大富翁，每年也至多给她七万法郎，而且我可以断定，假如玛格丽特再要求得多一些，尽管他家大业大，并且也疼爱她，他也会拒绝的。” “在巴黎，那些一年只有两三万法郎收入的年轻人，也就是说，那些勉强能够维持他们自己那个圈子里的生活的年轻人，如果他们有一个像玛格丽特那样的女人做情妇的话，他们心里很明白，他们给她的钱还不够付她的房租和仆役的工资。他们不会对她说他们知道这些情况，他们视而不见，装聋作哑，当他们玩够了，就一走了之。如果他们爱好虚荣，想负担一切开销，那就会像个傻瓜似的落得个身败名裂，在巴黎欠下十万法郎的债，最后跑到非洲去送掉性命完事。您以为那些女人就会因此而感激他们吗？根本不会；相反，她们会说她们为了他们而牺牲了自己的利益，会说在他们相好的时候，倒贴了他们钱财。啊！您觉得这些事很可耻，是吗？这些都是事实。您是一个可爱的青年，我从心底里喜欢您，我在妓女圈子里已经混了二十个年头了，我知道她们是些什么人，也知道应该怎样来看待她们，因此，我不愿意看到您把一个漂亮姑娘的逢场作戏当了真。 “再说，除此之外，”普律当丝继续说，“如果公爵发现了你们的私情，要她在您和他之间选择，而玛格丽特因为爱您而放弃了伯爵和公爵，那么她为您作出的牺牲就太大了，这是无可争辩的事实，您能为她作出同样的牺牲吗？您？当您感到厌烦了，当您不再需要她的时候，您怎样来赔偿她为您蒙受的损失呢？什么也没有！您可能会把她和她那个天地隔绝开来，那个天地里有她的财产和她的前途，她也可能把她最美好的岁月给了您，而您却会把她忘得一干二净。倘若您是一个普通的男人，那么您就会揭她过去的伤疤，对她说您也只不过像她过去的情人那样离开了她，使她陷入悲惨的境地；或者您是一个有良心的人，觉得有责任把她留在身边，那么您就要为自己招来不可避免的不幸。因为，这种关系对一个年轻人来说是可以原谅的，但对一个成年人来说就不一样了。这种男人们的第二次、也是最后一次的爱情，成了您一切事业的累赘，它不容于家庭，也使您丧失雄心壮志。所以，相信我的话吧，我的朋友，您要实事求是些，是什么样的女人就当什么样的女人来对待，无论在哪一方面，也不要让自己去欠一个妓女的情分。” 普律当丝说得合情合理，很有逻辑，这是出乎我意料之外的。我无言以对，只是觉得她说得对，我握住她的手，感谢她给我的忠告。 “算了，算了，”她对我说，“丢开这些讨厌的大道理，开开心心做人吧，生活是美好的，亲爱的，就看您对人生抱什么态度。喂，去问问您的朋友加斯东吧，我对爱情有这样的看法，也是受了他的影响；您应该明白这些道理，不然您就要成为一个不知趣的孩子了。因为隔壁还有一个美丽的姑娘正在不耐烦地等她家里的客人离开，她在想您，今天晚上她要和您一起过，她爱您，我对此有充分把握。现在，您跟我一起到窗口去吧，等着瞧伯爵离开，他很快就会让位给我们的。” 普律当丝打开一扇窗子，我们肩并肩地倚在阳台上。 我望着路上稀少的行人，脑子里却杂念丛生。 听了她刚才对我讲的一番话，我心乱如麻，但是我又不能不承认她说得有道理，然而我对玛格丽特的一片真情，很难和她讲的这些道理联系得上，因此我不时地唉声叹气，普律当丝听见了，就回过头来向我望望，耸耸肩膀，活像一个对病人失去信心的医生。 “由于感觉的迅速，”我心里想，“因此我们就感到人生是那么短促！我认识玛格丽特只不过两天，昨天开始她才成了我的情妇，但她已经深深地印在我的思想、我的心灵和我的生命里，以致这位G伯爵的来访使我痛苦万分。” 伯爵终于出来了，坐上车子走了。普律当丝关上窗子。 就在这个时候玛格丽特叫我们了。 “快来，刀叉已经摆好，”她说，“我们就要吃夜宵了。” 当我走进玛格丽特家里的时候，她忙向我跑来，搂住我的脖子，使劲地吻我。 “我们还老是要闹别扭吗？”她对我说。 “不，以后不闹了，”普律当丝回答说，“我跟他讲了一通道理，他答应要听话了。” “那太好了。” 我的眼睛不由自主地向床上望去，床上没有凌乱的迹象； 至于玛格丽特，她已经换上了白色的睡衣。 大家围着桌子坐了下来。 娇媚、温柔、多情，玛格丽特什么也不缺，我不得不时时提醒自己，我没有权利再向她要求什么了。任何人处在我的地位一定会感到无限幸福，我像维吉尔笔下的牧羊人一样，坐享着一位天神、更可以说是一位女神赐给我的欢乐。 我尽力照普律当丝的劝告去办，强使自己跟那两个女伴一样快乐；她们的感情是自然的，我却是硬逼出来的。我那神经质的欢笑几乎像哭一样，她们却信以为真。 吃完夜宵以后，只剩下我跟玛格丽特两个人了，她像往常一样，过来坐在炉火前的地毯上，愁容满面地望着炉子里的火焰。 她在沉思！想些什么？我不得而知，我怀着恋情，几乎还带着恐惧地望着她，因为我想到了自己准备为她忍受的痛苦。 “你知道我在想什么？” “不知道。” “我在想办法，我已经想出来了。” “什么办法？” “现在我还不能告诉你，但是我可以把这件事的结果告诉你。那就是一个月以后我就可以自由了，我将什么也不欠，我们可以一起到乡下避暑去了。” “难道您就不能告诉我用的是什么办法吗？” “不能，只要你能像我爱你一样地爱我，那一切定能成功。” “那么这个办法是您一个人想出来的吗？” “是的。” “而且由您一个人去办吗？” “由我一个人来承受烦恼，”玛格丽特微笑着对我说，这种微笑是我永远也忘不了的，“但是由我们来共同分享好处。” 听到“好处”这两个字我不禁脸红了，我想起了玛侬?莱斯科和德?格里欧两人一起把B先生当作冤大头①的事。 ①《玛侬?莱斯科》这本小说里的一个情节。玛侬瞒着她的情人，和B先生来往，诈骗B先生的钱财。 我站起身来，用稍嫌生硬的语气回答说： “亲爱的玛格丽特，请允许我只分享我自己想出的办法的好处，而且是由我自己参加的事情中所得到的好处。” “这是什么意思？” “这意思是，我非常怀疑G伯爵在这个美妙的办法里面是不是您的合伙人，对于这个办法我既不负担责任，也不享受它的好处。” “您真是个孩子，我还以为您是爱我的哩，我想错了，那么好吧。” 说到这里，她站了起来，打开钢琴开始弹那首《邀舞曲》，一直弹到她总是弹不下去的那段为止。 不知道她是习惯于弹这支乐曲呢、还是为了要我回想起我们相识那天的情景，我所记得的，就是一听到这个曲调以后，往事就浮现在我的脑海之中，于是，我向她走过去，用双手捧住她的头吻了吻。 “您原谅我吗？”我对她说。 “您瞧，”她对我说，“我们相识才两天，而我已经有些事情要原谅您了，您说过要盲目服从我，但您说话不算数。” “您叫我怎么办呢，玛格丽特，我太爱您了，我对您任何一点想法都要猜疑，您刚才向我提到的事使我快乐得心花怒放，但是实行这个计划的神秘性却使我感到难受。” “看您，冷静一点吧，”她握着我两只手说，同时带着一种使我无法抗拒的媚人的微笑凝视着我，“您爱我，是吗？那么如果就您和我两个人在乡下过三四个月，您会感到高兴的吧。我也一样，能够过几天只有我们两个人的那种清静生活，我将觉得很幸福。我不但觉得幸福，而且这种生活对我的健康也有好处。要离开巴黎这么长时间，总得先把我的事情安排一下，像我这样一个女人，杂事总是很多的。好吧，我总算有了法子来安排一切，安排我的那些杂事和我对您的爱情，是的，对您的爱情，请别笑，我爱您爱得发疯呢！而您现在却神气得很，说起大话来啦。真是孩子气，十足的孩子气，您只要记住我爱您，其他您什么也不要管。同意吗？嗯？” “您想做的我都同意，这您是很清楚的。” “那么，一个月以内，我们就可以到某个乡村去，在河边散步，喝鲜奶。我，玛格丽特?戈蒂埃说这样的话，您可能会感到奇怪吧，我的朋友。这种看来似乎使我十分幸福的巴黎生活，一旦不能激起我的热情，就会使我感到厌烦，因此我突然向往起能使我想起童年时代的那种安静生活。无论是谁都有他的童年时代。喔！您放心，我不会跟您说我是一个退役上校的女儿，或者说我是从圣德尼①培养出来的。我是一个乡下的穷姑娘，六年前我连自己的名字也不会写。这样您就放心了，是吗？那么为什么我有生以来第一次对您说要跟您分享我所得到的快乐。因为我看出您是为了我，而不是为了您自己才爱我的。而别人，从来就是为了他们自己而爱我。 ①圣德尼：巴黎北部的一个小城市，那里有荣誉勋位团的女子学校。 “我过去经常到乡下去，但我从来没有像这一次这样一心想去；对这一次唾手可得的幸福我就指望着您了，别跟我闹别扭，让我得到这个幸福吧！您可以这样想：她活不长了，她第一次要求我做一件轻而易举的事我就不答应她，我以后会不会后悔呢？” 对这些话我还有什么话好说呢？尤其是我还在回味着第一夜的恩爱，盼望着第二夜到来的时候。 一个小时以后，玛格丽特已经躺在我的怀抱里，那时她即使要我去犯罪我也会听从的。 早晨六点钟我要走了，在走之前我问她说： “今晚见吗？” 她热烈地吻我，但是没有回答我的话。 白天，我收到一封信，上面写着这样几句话： 亲爱的孩子： 我有点不舒服，医生嘱咐我休息，今晚我要早 些睡，我们就不见面了。但是为了给您补偿，明天中午我等您。我爱您。 我第一个念头就是：她在骗我！ 我额头上沁出一阵冷汗，我已经深深地爱上了这个女人，因此这个猜疑使我心烦意乱。 然而，我应该预料到，跟玛格丽特在一起，这种事几乎每天都可能发生。这种事过去我和别的情妇之间也经常出现，但是我都没有把它放在心上。那么这个女人对我的生命为什么有这样大的支配力呢？ 这时候我想，既然我有她家里的钥匙，我何不就像平时一样去看她。这样我会很快知道真相，如果我碰到一个男人的话，我就打他的耳光。 这时，我到了香榭丽舍大街，在那里溜达了足足有四个小时，她没有出现。晚上，凡是她经常去的几家剧院我都去了，哪一家也没有她的影子。 十一点钟，我来到了昂坦街。 玛格丽特家的窗户里没有灯光，我还是拉了门铃。 看门人问我找哪一家。 “找戈蒂埃小姐家。”我对他说。 “她还没有回来。” “我到上面去等她。” “她家里一个人也没有。” 当然，既然我有钥匙，我可以不理睬这个不让我进去的禁令，但是我怕闹出笑话来，于是我就走了。 不过，我没有回家，我离不开这条街，我的眼睛一直盯着玛格丽特的房间。我似乎还想打听些什么消息，或者至少要使自己的猜疑得到证实。 将近午夜，一辆我非常熟悉的马车在九号门前停了下来。 G伯爵下了车，把车子打发走了以后，就进了屋子。 那时候，我巴望别人像对我一样地告诉他说玛格丽特不在家，巴望看见他退出来；但是一直等到早晨四点钟，我还在等着。 三个星期以来，我受尽痛苦，但是，和那一晚的痛苦比起来，那简直算不了一回事。

Chapter 12 AT five in the morning, when daylight began to appear through the curtains, Marguerite said to me: 'Forgive me if I shoo you away now, but I must. The Duke comes every morning; when he arrives, he'll be told I'm asleep, and he may wait for me to wake.' I took Marguerite's head in both my two hands, her loosened hair cascading on to her shoulders, and I gave her one last kiss, saying: 'When will I see you again?' 'Listen, ' she went on, 'take the little gold key on the mantelpiece there and unlock the door. Then bring me back the key and go. Sometime during the day, you'll receive a letter with my instructions, for you know that you must obey blindly.' 'Yes ?but what if I were already to ask you something?' 'What is it?' 'That you leave the key in my keeping.' 'I've never done for anyone what you're asking me to do now.' 'Well, do it for me, for I swear that I do not love you as the others loved you.' 'Very well, keep it. But I warn you that I could at any time see to it that your key served no useful purpose.' 'How?' 'There are bolts on this side of my door.' 'You wicked creature!' 'I'll have them removed.' 'So you do love me a little?' 'I don't know how it is, but it seems I do. And now, go: I'm almost asleep.' We remained a few moments in each others' arms and then I left. The streets were deserted, the great city was sleeping still, and a pleasant coolness ran through the neighbourhood which, a few hours later, would be overrun by the noise of men. I felt as though the sleeping city belonged to me. I ransacked my memory for the names of men whose happiness, up to that moment, I had envied; and I could not recall one without finding that I was happier than he. To be loved by a chaste young girl, to be the first to show her the strange mystery of love, is a great joy ?but it is the easiest thing in the world. To capture a heart unused to attack is like walking into an open, undefended city. Upbringing, the awareness of duty, and the family, are watchful sentries of course, but there are no sentries, however vigilant, that cannot be eluded by a girl of sixteen to whom nature, through the voice of the man she adores, whispers those first counsels of love which are all the more passionate because they seem so pure. The more sincere a young girl's belief in goodness, the more easily she gives herself, if not to her lover, then at least to love. Because she is unsuspecting, she is powerless, and to be loved by her is a prize which any young man of twenty-five may have whenever he likes. And to see how true this is, simply consider how much supervision and how many ramparts surround young girls! Convents cannot have walls too high, nor mothers locks too strong, nor religion duties too unrelenting to deep all these charming birds safe in cages which no one even tries to disguise with flowers. And so, how keenly must they want that world which is kept hidden from them! How tempting must they believe it to be! How eagerly must they listen to the first voice which, through the bars of their cage, tells of its secrets! And how gratefully to they bless the first hand which lifts a corner of its mysterious veil! But to be truly loved by a courtesan is a much more difficult victory to achieve. In such women, the body has consumed the soul, the senses have burnt out the heart, debauchery has buckled stout armour on to feeling. The words you say to them, they first heard long ago; the tactics you use, they have seen before; the very love they inspire in you, they have sold to others. They love because love is their trade, not because they are swept off their feet. They are better guarded by their calculations than a virgin by her mother and her convent. Which is why they have coined the word ' caprice' to describe those non- commercial affairs in which they indulge from time to time as a relief, an excuse or as a consolation. Such women are like money-lenders who fleece large numbers of people, and think they can make amends by lending twenty francs one day to some poor devil who is starving to death, without asking him to pay interest or requiring him to sign a receipt. But when God allows a courtesan to fall in love, her love, which at first looks like a pardon for her sins, proves almost invariably to be a punishment on her. There is no absolution without penance. When such a creature, who has all the guilt of her past on her conscience, suddenly feels herself gripped by a deep, sincere, irresistible love such as she had never dreamed herself capable of experiencing; when she finally declares her love ?how complete the power of the man she loves! How strong he feels once he has the cruel right to say: 'What you do now for love is no more than you have done for money.' When this happens, they are at a loss for ways of proving what they feel. A boy in a field who, so the fable goes, persisted in finding it amusing to shout 'Help!' to disturb some workmen, was eaten one fine day by a bear, without it occurring to those he had so often deceived that this time his shouts were real. And so it is with these wretched girls when they genuinely fall in love. They have lied so often that no one believes them any more and, beset by remorse, they are eaten by their love. Which explains the great self- sacrifices, the austere self-seclusions of which a few such women have afforded examples. But if a man who inspires such saving love is sufficiently generous of soul to accept it without thought for the past, if he commits himself totally to her, if he really loves as he is loved, then such a man drains in one draught all terrestrial emotions and, after a love like this, his heart is thereafter closed to any other. It was not then, as I returned home that morning, that these thoughts came to me. They could not in any case have been much more at that point than a presentiment of what was to befall me and, in spite of my love for Marguerite, I did not anticipate any such outcome. But I think these thoughts today: now that it is all irrevocably ended, they emerge naturally from what has been. But let us return to that first day of our affair. When I reached home, I was wildly exhilarated. Feeling that the barriers which my imagination had erected between Marguerite and me had disappeared, and believing that she was mine, that I had a small place in her thoughts, that I had the key to her apartment in my pocket and permission to use it, I felt pleased with life and pleased with myself, and I praised God who had let it all happen. One day, a young man walks along a street, comes across a woman, looks at her, turns and looks again, then walks on. This woman, whom he does not know, has pleasures, sorrows, loves in which he has no part. He does not exist for her, and perhaps, if he spoke to her, she would laugh at him just as Marguerite had laughed at me. Weeks, months, years pass by and then, quite unexpectedly, when both have followed their destiny in their separate ways, the logic of chance brings them face to face. The woman becomes the man's mistress and loves him truly. How? Why? Their two lives are now as one: no sooner is their affection sealed than they feel as though it has always existed, and everything that has gone before is blotted from the memory of the two lovers. It really is the oddest thing, you must admit. For my own part, I could not recall how I had ever lived before the previous evening. My whole being cried out for joy at the memory of the words we had exchanged during that first night. Either Marguerite was skilled at deceit, or she truly felt for me one of those sudden passions which can come with the first kiss but sometimes fade as quickly as they came. The more I thought about it, the surer I was that Marguerite could have no reason to feign a love she did not feel and, furthermore, I told myself that women have two ways of loving which may derive the one from the other: they love either with their hearts or with their senses. A woman will often take a lover merely to do the bidding of her senses and, without expecting to, acquires knowledge of the mystery of ethereal love, and henceforth lives only through her heart; a young girl, seeking in marriage simply the union of two pure affections, will often acquire the sudden revelation of physical love, the emphatic culmination of the purest impressions of the soul. I fell asleep in the middle of my thoughts. I was woken by a letter from Marguerite which contained these words: 'These are my orders: This evening at the Vaudeville. Come during the third interval. M. G.' I put her note away in a drawer, so that I would always have reality to hand should I ever have doubts, as happened from time to time. As she did not say that I should go and see her during the day, I dared not call on her; but so great was my desire to meet up with her before that evening that I ventured on to the Champs-Elysees where, like the previous day, I saw her drive up and then down again. At seven, I was at the Vaudeville. I had never arrived at a theatre quite so early. All the boxes filled one after the other. Just one remained unoccupied: the front box in the stalls. At the start of the third act, I heard someone opening the door to this box, on which I had kept my eyes more or less permanently fixed, and Marguerite appeared. She immediately came and stood in the front of her box, scanned the stalls, saw me and thanked me with a glance. She was radiantly beautiful that evening. Was I the reason why she had taken such care to look her best? Did she love me enough to think that the more beautiful I found her, the happier I would be? I still could not be sure; but if this was her intention, then she fully succeeded. For when she appeared, there was a ripple of turning heads and even the actor who was speaking at that moment looked in the direction of the woman whose entrance had disturbed the audience. And I had the key to that woman's apartment, and in three or four hours she would be mine once more! We decry men who ruin themselves for actresses and kept women; what surprises me is that they do not commit twenty times as many follies for them. You need to have lived that kind of life, as I have, to understand just how strongly all those little gratifications of vanity which a mistress provides each day can weld to a man's heart, for want of a better word, the love which he has for her. Then Prudence took her seat in the box and a man, who I recognized as Count de G, sat down at the back. When I saw him, my heart went cold. No doubt Marguerite noticed what effect the presence of this man in her box was having on me, for she smiled at me once more and, turning her back on the Count, appeared to be concentrating hard on the play. When the third interval began, she turned round and spoke briefly; the Count left the box, and Marguerite signalled me to come and see her. 'Good evening, ' she said as I entered, and she held out her hand. 'Good evening, ' I replied, directing the greeting at both Marguerite and Prudence. 'Do sit down.' 'But this is someone's seat. Isn't Count de G coming back?' 'Yes. I sent him off to fetch me some sweets so that we could have a moment alone to talk. Madame Duvernoy knows everything.' 'Yes, my children, 'said she. 'But don't worry. I shan't tell.' 'What's wrong with you this evening?' said Marguerite, rising and coming into the dark back of the box where she kissed me on the forehead. 'I'm not feeling too well.' 'You should go to bed, ' she went on, with that ironic expression which went so well with her fine, quick- witted head. 'Whose?' 'Yours.' 'You know very well that I shan't sleep.' 'In that case, you shouldn't come here sulking just because you saw a man in my box.' 'That's not the reason.' 'Oh yes it is, I know all about such things and you're wrong. Let's not say any more about it. After the play, come to Prudence's and stay there until I call you. Understood?' 'Yes.' Did I have any choice but to obey? 'Do you still love me?' she went on. 'How can you ask!' 'Have you thought about me?' 'All day long.' 'Do you know something? I'm seriously beginning to be afraid I could fall in love with you. You'd better ask Prudence.' 'Ah!' Prudence cried heartily, 'stop pestering me!' 'Now, you are to go back to your seat in the stalls. The Count will return at any minute and there's nothing to be gained if he finds you here.' 'Why not?' 'Because you don't much like seeing him.' 'It's not that. It's just that if you had told me you wanted to come to the Vaudeville this evening, I could have sent you tickets for a box every bit as well as he could.' 'Unfortunately, he brought them round without my asking him to, and offered to escort me. You know very well I couldn't refuse. The most I could do was to write and let you know where I was going, because then you could see me, and because I wanted to see you sooner rather than later. But if that's the thanks I get, let it be a lesson to me.' 'I was wrong. Do forgive me!' 'Very well. Go back to your seat like a good boy, and for heaven's sake no more jealous scenes!' She kissed me again, and I left. In the corridor, I met the Count on his way back. I returned to my seat. After all, the presence of Monsier de G in Marguerite's box was the most uncomplicated thing. He had been her lover, he brought her tickets for a box, he came to the play with her it was all very natural, and the moment I took a girl like Marguerite as my mistress, I had no alternative but to accept her ways. All the same, such considerations did not make me any the less wretched for the rest of the evening, and I felt extremely miserable as I left, having seen Prudence, the Count and Marguerite stepping into the barouche which stood waiting for them at the door. Even so, a quarter of an hour later I was at Prudence's. She had returned only a moment before. 第十二章 清晨五点钟，微弱的晨光透过窗帘照射进来，玛格丽特对我说： “很抱歉，我要赶您走了，这是没有办法的事，公爵每天早上都要来；他来的时候，别人会对他说我还在睡觉，他可能一直要等到我醒来。” 我把玛格丽特的头捧在手里，她那蓬松的头发零乱地披散在周围，我最后吻了吻她，对她说： “我们什么时候再见？” “听着，”她接着说：“壁炉上有一把金色的小钥匙，您拿去打开这扇门，再把钥匙拿来，您就走吧。今天您会收到我一封信和我的命令，因为您知道您应该盲目地服从我。” “是的，不过我现在是不是可以向您要求一点东西呢？” “要求什么？” “把这把钥匙给我。” “这个东西我从来没有给过别人。” “那么，您就给我吧，因为我对您起过誓，我爱您跟别人爱您不一样。” “那么您就拿去吧，但是我要告诉您，我可以让这把钥匙对您毫无用处。” “怎么会呢？” “门里面有插销。” “坏东西！” “我叫人把插销拆了吧。” “那么，您真有点儿爱我吗？” “我也不知道是怎么一回事，不过看来我真的爱上您了。 现在您去吧，我困得很。” 我们又紧紧地拥抱了一会儿，后来我就走了。 街上阒无人迹，巨大的城市还沉睡未醒，到处吹拂着一阵阵柔和的微风，再过几个小时，这里就要熙来攘往，人声鼎沸了。 现在这座沉睡着的城市仿佛是属于我一个人的。过去我一直羡慕有些人运气好，我一个个地回忆着他们的名字，可是我怎么也想不出有谁比我眼下更称心如意的了。 被一个纯洁的少女所爱，第一个向她揭示神秘之爱的奥秘；当然，这是一种极大的幸福，但这也是世界上最简单不过的事情。赢得一颗没有谈过恋爱的心，这就等于进入一个没有设防的城市。教育、责任感和家庭都是最机警的哨兵，但是一个十六岁的少女，任何机警的哨兵都免不了会被她骗过的，大自然通过她心爱的男子的声音对她作第一次爱情的启示，这种启示越是显得纯洁，它的力量也就越是猛烈。 少女越是相信善良就越是容易失身，如果不是失身于情人的话，至少是失身于爱情。因为一个人丧失了警惕就等于失去了力量，得到这样一个少女的爱情虽说是一个胜利，但这种胜利是任何一个二十五岁的男子想什么时候要就什么时候能够到手的。在这些少女的周围，确实是戒备森严。但是要把所有这些可爱的小鸟关在连鲜花也不必费心往里抛的笼子里，修道院的围墙还不够高，母亲的看管还不够严，宗教戒条的作用还不够持久。因此，这些姑娘们该有多么向往别人不让她们知道的外部世界啊！她们该有多么相信这个世界一定是非常引人入胜的，当她们第一次隔着栅栏听到有人来向她们倾诉爱情的秘密时该有多么高兴，对第一次揭开那神奇帐幕一角的那只手，她们该是怎样地祝福它啊！ 但是要真正地被一个妓女所爱，那是一个极其难得的胜利，她们的肉体腐蚀了灵魂，情欲灼伤了心灵，放纵的生活养成了她们的铁石心肠。别人对她们讲的话，她们早已听腻了，别人使用的手腕她们也都熟悉，她们即使有过爱情也已经卖掉了。她们的爱情不是出于感情，而是为了金钱。她们工于心计，因此远比一个被母亲和修道院看守着的处女防范得周密。她们把那些不在做生意范围之内的爱情叫做逢场作戏，她们经常会有一些这样的爱情，她们把这种爱情当作消遣，当作借口，当作安慰，就好像那些放高利贷的人，他们盘剥了成千的人，有一天他借了二十个法郎给一个快要饿死的穷人，没有要他付利息，没有逼着他写借据，就自以为罪已经赎清了。 再说，当天主允许一个妓女萌发爱情的时候，这个爱情，开始时好像是一个宽恕，后来几乎总是变成一种对她的惩罚。没有忏悔就谈不上宽恕。如果一个女人过了一段应该受到谴责的生活，突然觉得自己有了一种深刻的、真诚的、不能自制的爱情，这种她从来以为不可能有的爱情，当她承认这个爱情的时候，那个被她爱的男子就可以统治她了！这个男子有多么得意，因为他有权对她说，“您的爱情跟做买卖也差不离”。然而，这是一种残酷的权利。 这时候她们真不知道怎样来表明她们的真心。有一个寓言讲过：一个孩子跟农民们恶作剧，一直在田野里叫“救命啊，熊来啦！”闹着玩。有一天熊真的来了，那些被他骗过的人这一次不再相信他的呼救声，他终于被熊吃掉了；这就像那些可怜的姑娘萌发了真正的爱情的时候一样。她们说谎次数太多，以致别人不再相信她们了，她们后悔莫及地葬身于她们自己的爱情之中。 因此，也会有一些真正忠于爱情，认真从良的妓女。 但是，当一个激起这种超脱的爱情的男子有一颗宽宏的心，愿意接受这个女人而不去回忆她的过去，当他投身于这个爱情之中；总之，当他被她所爱一样地爱上了她时，这个人顿时就享尽了人间所有美好的感情，经过这次爱情以后，他再也不会爱上别人了。 在没有经历过以后发生的那些事情之前，我是不可能预感到这些想法的，所以尽管我爱着玛格丽特，却没有产生过相似的念头，今天我才有了这些想法。一切都过去了，这些想法是已经发生的事所产生的自然后果。 现在还是回到我们这段恋情的第一天来吧。当我回家的时候，我欣喜若狂。想到我原来想象存在于玛格丽特和我之间的障碍已经消失，想到我已得到了她，想到我在她脑子里已经有了一定的地位，想到她的房间的钥匙在我口袋里，并且我还有权利使用这把钥匙，我感到人生非常美满，我踌躇满志，我赞美天主，是他赐给了我这一切。 一天，一个年轻人走过一条街，他碰见一个女人，他望了望她，转身就走了。他不认得这个女人。这个女人有她的快乐、她的悲哀和她的爱情，跟他毫不相干。她的心目中也没有他这个人，如果他要跟她搭话，她也许会像玛格丽特嘲笑我一样地嘲笑他。几个星期，几个月，几年过去了。突然，在他们听从着各自的命运在不同的道路上行走的时候，一个偶然的机缘使他们重新相会。这个女人爱上了他，成了这个男人的情妇。这两个青年从此就难分难舍，形影不离，这是怎么回事，这又是为什么？一旦他们爱上了，就仿佛这个爱情由来已久，所有往事在这两个情人的脑海中都消失了，我们承认这是很奇怪的。 至于我，我也记不起这天晚上以前我是怎样生活过来的，一想到这第一个晚上我们俩谈的话，我全身舒坦。要么是玛格丽特善于骗人，要么她对我有一股突如其来的热情，这种热情在第一次接吻时就显露了出来，不过后来有过几次，这种激情又像它迸发时那样遽然地熄灭了。 我越想越觉得玛格丽特没有任何理由来假装爱我，我还想到女人有两种恋爱方式，这两种方式可以互为因果：她们不是从心底里爱人就是因感官的需要而爱人。一个女人接受一个情人一般只是为了服从她感官上的需要，她不知不觉地懂得了超肉欲爱情的神秘性，并且在以后只是靠精神爱情来生活；通常一个年轻的姑娘，起初只认为婚姻是双方纯洁感情的结合，后来才突然发现了肉体的爱情，也就是精神上最纯洁的感情所产生的有力的结果。 我想着想着慢慢地睡着了。玛格丽特的来信把我唤醒了，信里面写着这样几句话： 这是我的命令：今天晚上在歌舞剧院见面，请 在第三次幕间休息时来找我。 玛?戈 我把信放进抽屉里锁了起来。我这人有时候会神思恍惚，这样做了就可以在日后疑心是否真有此事时，有个实实在在的凭据。 她没有叫我在白天去看她，我也不敢贸然到她家里去；但是我实在想在傍晚以前就看到她，于是我就到香榭丽舍大街去。和昨天一样，我又在那里看见她经过，并在那里下了马车。 七点钟，我就到了歌舞剧院①。 ①歌舞剧院：一七九一年始建于王宫附近，一八三八年被烧毁，一八六八年重建于交易所广场，后来又迁至嘉布遣纳大街。 我从未这样早到剧院里去过。 那些包厢里慢慢地都坐满了人，只有一个包厢是空的：底层台前包厢。 第三幕开始的时候，我听见那个包厢里有开门的声响，我的眼睛几乎没有离开过这个包厢，玛格丽特出现了。 她马上走到包厢前面，往正厅前座里寻找，看到我以后，就用目光向我表示感谢。 这天晚上她有多美啊！ 她是为了我才打扮得这样漂亮的吗？难道她爱我已经爱到了这般地步，认为她越是打扮得漂亮，我就越感到幸福吗？这我还不知道，但假使她真的是这样想的话，那么她是成功了，因为当她出现的时候，观众的脑袋像一片波涛似的纷纷向她转去，连舞台上的演员也对着她望，因为她刚一露面就使观众为之倾倒。 而我身上却有着这个女人的房门钥匙，三四个小时以后，她又将是我的了。 人们都谴责那些为了女戏子和妓女而倾家荡产的人，使我奇怪的倒是，他们怎么没有更进一步地为这些女人做出更加荒唐的事来呢。一定要像我这样地投入到这种生活里去，才能了解到，只有她们在日常生活中满足她们情人的各种微小的虚荣心，才能巩固情人对她们的爱情——我们只能说“爱情”，因为找不到别的字眼。 接着是普律当丝在她的包厢里坐了下来，还有一个男人坐在包厢后座，就是我认识的那位G伯爵。 一看到他，我感到浑身冰冷。 玛格丽特一定发现了她包厢里的男人影响了我的情绪，因为她又对我笑了笑，然后把背转向伯爵，显得一门心思在看戏。到了第三次幕间休息时，她转回身去，说了几句话，伯爵离开了包厢，于是玛格丽特做手势要我过去看她。 “晚安，”我进去的时候她对我说，同时向我伸过手来。 “晚安，”我向玛格丽特和普律当丝说。 “请坐。” “那我不是占了别人的座位啦，G伯爵不来了吗？” “他要来的，我叫他去买蜜饯，这样我们可以单独谈一会儿，迪韦尔诺瓦夫人是信得过的。” “是啊，我的孩子们，”迪韦尔诺瓦夫人说，“放心好了，我什么也不会讲出去的。” “您今天晚上怎么啦？”玛格丽特站起来，走到包厢的阴影里搂住我，吻了吻我的额头。 “我有点不舒服。” “您应该去睡一会儿才好，”她又说，她那俏皮的神色跟她那娇小玲珑的脑袋极为相配。 “到哪里去睡？” “您自己家里呀！” “您很清楚我在自己家里是睡不着的。” “那么您就不该因为看见有一个男人在我的包厢里就来给我看脸色呀。” “不是为了这个原因。” “是这个原因，我一看就知道，您错了，我们别再谈这些事了。散戏后您到普律当丝家里去，一直等到我叫您，您听明白了吗？” “听明白了。” 我难道能不服从吗？ “您仍然爱我吗？”她问。 “这还用问吗？” “您想我了吗？” “整天都在想。” “我真怕我真的爱上您了，您知道吗？还是问问普律当丝吧。” “啊！”那个女胖子回答说，“那可真叫人受不了。” “现在，您回到您的位子上去，伯爵要回来了，没有必要让他在这里看见您。” “为什么？” “因为您看到他心里不痛快。” “没有的事，不过如果您早跟我讲今天晚上想到歌舞剧院来，我也会像他一样把这个包厢的票子给您送来的。” “不幸的是，我没有向他要他就给我送来了，还提出要陪我来。您知道得很清楚，我是不能拒绝的。我所能做的，就是写信告诉您我在哪里，这样您就可以见到我，因为我自己也很希望早些看到您；既然您是这样感谢我的，我就要记住这次教训。” “我错了，请原谅我吧。” “这就太好了，乖乖地回到您的座位上去，再不要吃什么醋了。” 她再一次吻了我，我就走出来了。 在走廊里我遇到了回包厢的伯爵。 我回到了自己的座位上。 其实，G伯爵在玛格丽特的包厢里出现是件极其平常的事。他过去是她的情人，给她送来一张包厢票，陪她来看戏，这一切都是非常自然的事情。既然我有一个玛格丽特那样的姑娘做情妇，当然我就应该容忍她的生活习惯。 这天晚上剩下来的时间我也不见得更好受一些，在看到普律当丝、伯爵和玛格丽特坐上等在剧院门口的四轮马车以后，我也怏怏地走了。 可是一刻钟以后我就到了普律当丝的家里，她也刚好回来。