《茶花女》——The Lady of the Camellias（中英文对照）完结_派派后花园

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[Novel] 《茶花女》——The Lady of the Camellias（中英文对照）完结

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原名：独爱穿越。
举报 只看该作者 20楼  发表于: 2013-10-22 0

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。


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2429874鲜花 36鸡蛋

等级: 派派版主
配偶: 此微夜
原名：独爱穿越。
举报 只看该作者 21楼  发表于: 2013-10-22 0

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！”
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举报 只看该作者 22楼  发表于: 2013-10-22 0

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。
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原名：独爱穿越。
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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。
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原名：独爱穿越。
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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。
　
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原名：独爱穿越。
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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。
　
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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。
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举报 只看该作者 27楼  发表于: 2013-10-22 0

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。
　
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— (翦慕) 请不要恶意灌水，恶意灌水包括：纯表情、纯数字、纯字母等毫无意义的内容，以及同一内容重复连续发帖。请规范发帖，你会喜欢上派派的。 (2014-05-25 14:21) —
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