Chapter 60 Volume 8 Girlfriends (7)

Although Christophe had deep love, he had to avoid Olivier.He was strong, too physically fit to suffocate in the misery of having no air.He was ashamed, hated that he could not help his friend at all; at the same time he needed to take revenge on someone, and hated Jacqueline.Although he had heard Mrs. Arno's profound words, he still criticized her severely.In a young, violent man, this is as it should be; being not yet sufficiently experienced in life, he cannot pity the weaknesses. He went to visit Cecil and the child entrusted to her.Cecil was completely transformed by this borrowed motherhood; she seemed so young, happy, delicate, tender.Jacqueline's departure gave her no hope of a happiness she dared not admit.She knew that the relationship between Olivier and her was more distant when Olivier missed Jacqueline than when Jacqueline was at home.Moreover, the emotional tide that had previously disturbed her heart was long gone: Jacqueline's erroneous approach had cleared her distress;The need of love is now satisfied in the affection of caressing a child.With a woman's wonderful fantasy and intuition, she can discover the person she loves in this little life: he is now weak, committed, and completely hers; she can love him, passionate love He loved him with a love as pure as this child's innocent heart and clear eyes... But her tenderness was not without melancholy and regret.what!It's nothing compared to a child born of one's own flesh and blood after all... but sweet nonetheless.

Christophe now saw Cecil with another pair of eyes.He remembered a joke that Francois Houdon said: "You and Nightingale are a natural pair, how could you not love each other?" But François knew the reason better than Christophe: it is rare for a person like Christophe to love a person who benefits him, and would rather love a person who makes him suffer.The two extremes attract each other; human nature is always looking for what can destroy itself, it tends to consume as much as possible, a passionate life, and does not like a frugal and cautious life.For a person like Christophe, this method is correct, because what he seeks is not to live as long as possible, but to live vigorously.

But Christophe, who did not see so clearly like Françoise, thought that love was a force against human nature.It brings together some incompatible people while repelling those with similar personalities.The benefits it gives are insignificant compared with what it destroys.Perfect love wears down your will, and unsatisfactory love hurts your heart.What good does it do to man? While he was slandering love thus, he saw Venus smiling softly and mockingly, and said to him: "You ungrateful fellow!" Christophe couldn't stop going to the Austrian embassy to attend a party.Over there the nightingales sang Schubert, Hugo Wolf and Christophe.It pleased her to see her own success and that of her friend: he was now appreciated by the elite classes.Even in front of the vast crowd, the name of Christophe has an appeal; people like Levy-Gert can no longer pretend not to know him.His compositions were performed in various concerts; a libretto was accepted by the Opera Comique.It seemed that someone was there to care about him somewhere.The mysterious friend, the friend who has helped him many times, continues to promote his wish.Several times Christophe felt that someone was helping him in secret and tried to hide.He wanted to find this person, but the friend seemed annoyed that Christophe hadn't tried to get to know him earlier, so he always refused to find him.And he was busy with other things, thinking of Olivier, thinking of Françoise; he had read in the newspaper that morning that she was seriously ill in San Francisco: he imagined that she was living alone in a hotel in a foreign country, Not willing to see anyone, not willing to write to any friends, gritting his teeth, waiting to die alone there.

Obsessed with these thoughts, he avoided everyone and hid in a small living room with a remote location.With his back against the wall, standing in a dark corner covered by trees and flowers, he listened to the beautiful, sad, warm voice of the nightingale singing Schubert's "Linden Tree"; Melancholy.On the opposite wall, a large mirror reflects the lights and figures in the living room next door.He didn't see the mirror, but only looked at his own heart; his eyes were covered with a fog of tears...Suddenly, like Schubert's "The Bodhi Tree", he trembled inexplicably, his face turned pale, A few seconds passed without moving.Then, the tears stopped, and he saw a "girlfriend" looking at him in the mirror in front of him...Girlfriend?who is she?He didn't know anything except that she was a friend, that he knew her; eyes were on hers, and he leaned against the wall and continued to tremble.She smiled slightly.He didn't see the lines of her face and body, nor did he see the color of her eyes, whether she was tall or short, or what clothes she was wearing.He saw only one thing, the compassion reflected in her sympathetic smile.

And this smile suddenly evokes a childhood memory in Christophe's heart... When he was six to seven years old, he was very pitiful in school, and he was humiliated by his older and stronger classmates. After a pause, everyone laughed at him, and the teacher punished him unfairly: while other children were playing, he crouched down and cried quietly.A girl with a resentful expression who doesn’t play with other classmates——(I never thought of her at that time, but now I can clearly see her appearance: short body, big head, light yellow hair and His eyebrows are almost white, his blue eyes look pale, his broad and dull cheeks, his slightly swollen lips and face, his little red hands)—walked to him, stopped, and put his thumb in his mouth, watching him cry; then she put her little hand on Christophe's head, timidly, hastily, and said with a smile full of good intentions: "Don't cry!..."

Then Christophe couldn't help it, howled loudly, and put his nose on the little girl's apron.But she said again in a trembling and gentle voice: "Don't cry!..." After a few weeks, she died.When that incident happened, she had probably already fallen into the hands of the god of death... Why did he suddenly think of her at this moment?What was the relationship between this humble, forgotten dead girl in a distant German town, and the noble young woman who was looking at him now?But all people have only one soul, and although billions of creatures are different, like countless planets revolving in space, what shines on those hearts separated by time is the same light of love.The gleam that once appeared on the pale lips of the girl who comforted him, now Christophe saw it again...

This is but a moment.A group of people blocked the door like a tide, and Christophe could no longer see what was going on in the other living room.He shrank back into the shadows, hiding where the mirror couldn't see, for fear that his flustered emotions would be noticed.When he regained his composure, he wanted to see her again, lest she had already left.But as soon as he entered the living room, he immediately found her in the crowd, although she no longer looked like the one in the mirror.What he saw now was her profile, sitting among a group of beautiful women, with her elbows resting on the armrest of the easy chair, her head propped up, leaning slightly to listen to the conversation, with a clever look on her face, An absent-minded smile.Her face was exactly like St. John in Raphael's famous painting "The Eucharistic Controversy", with half-opened eyes, smiling at her own thoughts...

Then she raised her eyes and saw him without any sign of surprise.Only then did he realize that her smile was directed at him.He bowed to her and approached very touched: "Don't you recognize me?" she asked. Just then he recognized her and called out: "Grazia..."① ---- ① Refer to Volume 5: "Festival". ——Original note At the same time, the ambassador's wife passed by, saying that they had admired each other for so long, and it was a blessing to finally meet this time; she introduced Christophe to "Countess Peleny".But Christophe was so excited that he didn't hear it; he didn't notice the strange surname at all.In his mind she was always his little Grazia.

Grazia was twenty-two years old and had married a youth attache at the Austrian embassy a year earlier.He was of noble birth, related to the Chancellor of Austria; very fashionable, fun-loving, elegant, and a little prematurely aged.She really fell in love with him at the beginning, but now even though she has seen through him, she still loves him.Her old father died.The husband was appointed as an attache to the embassy in Paris.Thanks to Count Peleni's social connections, as well as her own charm and intelligence, the timid girl who used to be surprised by trivial things became the most attractive thing in Parisian society where she neither ostentatious nor embarrassed. one of the wives.To be young, to be beautiful, to be likable, and to know you are likable: these become a strength.The same effect is that she was born with a calm, very healthy and clear heart; desire and destiny are very harmonious, making her very happy.These were the most beautiful phases of life; but her Latin spirit, nurtured by the light and peace of Italy, retained its quiet musical air.Naturally, she gained power in Parisian society: she was not surprised by it, and knew how to use it in artistic and philanthropic endeavors that wanted her, but not in name: because she was in The unrestrained childhood spent in the village in the country has always left her an independent and unruly character, and she finds society interesting and annoying; but she can adapt to her position and cover her boredom with a smile that expresses kindness and hospitality .

She did not forget her good friend Christophe.Of course, the girl who embraced the innocent love back then no longer exists. Now Grazia is a very rational woman without any absurd fantasies. Sweet and ridiculous.But thinking of these past events, she was still very excited.The memory of Christophe was indeed the memory of the purest years of her life.She was delighted to hear his name; every success of his pleased her as if it had a part in it: for it was something she had foreseen.After she came to Paris, she tried to find him, invited him, and added her girlhood name to the invitation.Christophe didn't pay attention, and threw the invitation into the paper tray.She was not angry, and continued to pay attention to his work secretly, and even inquired about his living conditions.It is because of her strength that the recent pen war against Christophe in the newspapers has suddenly stopped.The simple-minded Grazia had little acquaintance with the press; but in order to help a friend she was able to use cunning to win over those whom she least liked.She brought in the snarling newspaper manager, turned him upside down with a few tricks; Storf's attack was both surprising and despicable, and the attack was immediately stopped.The manager temporarily removed an abusive text that was scheduled to be published the next day; the reporter who wrote it asked him why, but instead received a scolding.He went a step further and ordered one of his lackeys to produce within fifteen days an ardent tribute to Vick-Christophe; of course it was complied with;She also proposed to hold several concerts of Christophe's works in the embassy, ​​and because she knew that he wanted to promote Cécile, she helped the young female singer to show her talents.In the end, she took advantage of her friendship with the German diplomatic circles and gradually used ingenious means to draw the authorities' attention to Christophe, who was convicted by Germany.She imperceptibly contributed to a kind of public opinion, ready to ask the Kaiser for amnesty, so that an artist who has brought glory to the country can go back.And because this amnesty could not be expected to be realized immediately, she tried to get Christophe to go back to his hometown for two days and pretend to be deaf.

And Christophe, who always felt that there was an invisible friend protecting him and never knew who it was, only now recognized the face of St. John smiling at him in the mirror. They talk about the past.Christophe didn't know much about what they were talking about.He can neither see nor hear his beloved.When a person really loves, he may not even think that he is in love with the other person.Christophe is like that.She is in front of her: that's enough.The rest are gone... Grazia stopped talking.A very tall young man, handsome and handsome, beardless and bald, looked at Christophe through his spectacles with an air of boredom and contempt, with a mixture of haughtiness and contempt. Bend over politely. "This is my husband," she said. The voice in the living room was heard again.The light in my heart went out.Christophe's heart was cold at once, he replied silently, and left immediately. How ridiculous and exacting are the hearts of these artists, and the childish principles that govern their emotional lives!This friend was neglected by him when he loved him before, and he has never thought of it for many years; now that he meets her again, he feels that she is his and his treasure; if someone else takes her, It was taken from him; she herself had no right to commit herself to another.Christophe was not aware of these emotions.But his creative spirit perceived it for him, and in a few days he produced some songs that described the most beautiful description of distressed love. He didn't see her for a long time.Olivier's pain and health problems haunted him constantly.Finally one day, he found the address she had left, and he decided to go. Walking on the stairs, he heard the sound of workers hammering hammers.Boxes and cages were piled up in a mess in the hallway.The servant replied that the countess could not see visitors.Christophe was very disappointed and left his business card, and wanted to go downstairs, but the servant caught up again and invited him in while apologizing.Christophe was taken into a living room where the carpet had been removed and rolled aside.Grazia came forward with a radiant smile, and stretched out her hands happily and excitedly.He held her hand happily and excitedly, and kissed her. "Ah!" she said, "I'm so glad you can come! I'm afraid I won't be able to see you again!" "Leaving? Are you leaving?" The shadow fell again. "Look," she pointed to the messy interior; "we're leaving Paris this weekend." "How long will you be away?" She gestured: "Who knows?" He spoke with all his strength, his throat was already twitching. "Where are you going?" "America. My husband was transferred to the embassy in the United States as a first secretary." "Then, then, then...," his lips trembled, "...is that the end?" "Friend!" She was moved by his voice. "No, it's not over." "I lost you as soon as I found you!" There were tears in his eyes. "Friend!" she called again. He turned away with his hands over his eyes, trying to hide his emotion. "Don't be sad," she said, putting her hand on his. Then he thought again of the little German girl.They both fell silent. "Why are you here so late?" she asked finally. "I tried to see you. You never heard back." "I don't know at all, I don't know at all... Tell me, how many times have you helped me and I didn't guess?... Was it thanks to you that I was able to go back to Germany? You did it Has my good angel guarded me in secret?" She replied, "I'm glad I could do something for you. I have a lot to give you in return!" "What? I never helped you." "You don't know how much you've done me." So she talked about the time when she met her uncle Stephen at his house when she was a child, and because of his music, she discovered all the wonderful things in the world.Slowly, with a little excitement, she talked about the concert where Christophe was booed, her feelings and sorrows for the concert, how she cried, How to write to him and get no reply because he didn't receive it.Christophe listened, and transferred all the warmth and excitement he felt at this charming face to the past. They talked innocently and felt very kind and happy.Christophe shook Grazia's hand while speaking.Suddenly they were both silent: Grazia realized that Christophe loved her, and Christophe himself realized that... In the past, Grazia loved Christophe, but Christophe didn't notice it at all.Christophe loved Grazia now, and Grazia had only one quiet friendship for him: she loved another.It's like two clocks of life: if one runs a little faster than the other, it can change the lives of both parties... Grazia withdrew her hand, but Christophe did not hesitate to hold it.They sat in silence for a while. Then Grazia said: "Goodbye." Christophe sighed again: "Is that the end?" "Maybe it's better that way." "Can't we see each other before you leave?" "No more," she said. "When will we meet again?" She made a wistfully confused gesture. "Then what is the meaning of our meeting?" said Christophe. But as soon as he saw her complaining eyes, he immediately added: "Ah, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." "I will always miss you," she said. "Poor! I can't even miss you. I don't know anything about your life." She calmly told him her daily life in a few words, describing her way of living.She mentioned her and her husband with that kind and beautiful smile all the time. "Ah!" he said with a little jealousy in his heart, "do you love him?" "Love," she replied. He stood up. "Goodbye." She also stood up.Only then did he realize that she was pregnant, and he felt at once an indescribable disgust, tenderness, jealousy, and passionate pity.She sent him to the door of the small living room.He turned around, bent his body towards his friend's hand, and kissed him for a long time.She was motionless, her eyes half-closed.Finally he raised his body, walked out quickly without looking at it. ... then who will ask me what, I can only put on a humble face, Just answer him with one word: Love. It was All Saints' Day.It's a gloomy day and a cold wind outside.Christophe was at Cecil's.Cécile stood by the baby's cradle, and Madame Arnaud, who was coming to visit, leaned forward and watched.Christophe was lost in thought alone there.He felt that he was missing out on happiness, but he didn't want to complain: he knew there was happiness... Oh Sun!I don't have to see you to love you!Even through the long winters shivering in the gloom, still my heart is filled with your light; my love keeps me warm: I know you are here...   Cecil was also fantasizing.She looked at the child and believed it was her own.Oh, the power of fantasy, the fantasy that can create life, I should bless you!Life... what is life?It is not what the cold mind and our eyes see, but what we imagine.The rhythm of life is love. Christophe looked at Cécile, with a maternal instinct shining on his large-eyed, rustic face--a mother more pure than a real mother.He looked again at Madame Arno's tender and tired face.He saw in this face, as clearly as an open book, how much hidden sweetness and bitterness in this wife's life, though it was not suspected at all, sometimes with Juliet or Isolt. Virtuous love is equally full of joy and pain.But her joys and pains are closer to the greatness of religion... The union of the human and the divine—the spouse① He thought that a person's happiness or misfortune does not depend on the presence or absence of beliefs; similarly, the happiness and sorrow of married or unmarried women does not depend on the presence or absence of children.Happiness is a fragrance of the soul and the harmony of a singing heart.And the most beautiful music of the soul is compassion. ① This is the article explaining the spouse in Roman law, which is different from the lover who is a human matter rather than a divine matter. Then Olivier came in.He moved quietly, and there was a new, clear light in his blue eyes.He smiled at the child, shook hands with Cecil and Madame Arno, and began a quiet conversation.They all looked at him with affectionate surprise.Everything is different with him.In the solitude where he shut himself up in his misery, like a caterpillar hiding in its nest, after working hard, he finally cast off his misery like an empty shell.How he thought he had found a wonderful purpose to devote his life to will be told later.From then on, his only concern with life was to sacrifice it; and the day he gave up life from his heart, life regained its brilliance: this is an inevitable truth.His friends all looked at him, wondering what had happened to him, and were afraid to ask; but they felt that he was relieved, that he had no regrets or sorrows for anyone or anything in his heart. Christophe got up, went to the piano, and said to Olivier: "Shall I sing you a song by old Brahms?" "Brahms?" said Olivier. "Are you playing your deadly enemy's work now?" "Today is All Saints' Day, and everyone should be forgiven," said Christophe. In order not to wake the child, he lowered his voice and sang a few lines from an old Swabian song: I thank you for ever loving me, Hope you're happier elsewhere... "Christophe!" cried Olivier. Christophe held him tightly in his arms: "Well, my child, we are not bad luck." All four of them sat around the sleeping child without making a sound.If anyone asks them what they think,-then, with a humble look on their faces, they will answer you with just one word: --Love.