Chapter 7 Chapter VII

"Alyssa is waiting for you in the garden," my uncle said to me, kissing me like a father.I came to Fengsmar Grange at the end of April, and I was rather disappointed when I didn't see Alyssa running to meet me immediately, but I soon became grateful that she spared the customary greetings when we first met . She served it in the garden.I walked towards Polka Dot Road, and I saw shrubs such as lilac, rowan, gorse, and bromeliad closely surrounding Polka Dot Road. The flowers are in full bloom this season.I didn't want to see her from a distance, or let her see me approaching, so I walked across the garden from the other side, walking slowly along a quiet path sheltered by branches.The sky seemed to be as cheerful as I was, warm, shining, and pure.She must have thought that I was going to pass by another flower path, so I came closer and came behind her, but she still didn't hear me.I stopped... as if time could stop with me.I thought to myself: This is the moment, perhaps the most wonderful moment, before happiness comes, even better than happiness itself...

I wanted to go to the front and kneel down, and took a step, but she heard it, stood up abruptly, and dropped the embroidery work in my hand to the ground.She stretched out her arms towards me and put her hands on my shoulders.We stayed like this for a while.She stretched out her arms, bent towards me with a smile on her face, and stared at me tenderly without saying a word.She was wearing a white dress.On her somewhat overly serious face, I rediscovered her childhood smile. "Listen, Alyssa," I said in a loud voice, "I have twelve days off, and if you're not happy, I won't stay a day longer. Now let's make a sign that I should leave Fengus the next day." Mal. And when the next day came, I walked away without blaming or complaining. Do you agree?"

This was not prepared beforehand, and it was more natural for me to say it.She thought about it for a moment, then said: "How about this, if I go downstairs to eat tonight, if I don't wear your favorite amethyst cross around my neck... would you understand?" "That will be my last night here." "Can you just go like that? No tears, no sighs..." "And left without saying goodbye. On the last night, we broke up like the first night. It was extremely casual, and it would make you wonder: did he understand? But the next morning, when you looked for me again, you found that I had quietly left. "

"The next day, I won't look for you either." I caught her outstretched hand, pulled it to my lips and kissed it, and at the same time said: "From now until that fateful night, don't make any hints, lest I have a premonition." "You too, don't hint that you're leaving." Now, to break the awkward atmosphere that this solemn meeting might have created between us, I added: "I'm eager to hope that these few days around you will be like normal days... I mean, neither of us thinks there's anything special about it. Besides... if we don't get too eager to talk in the first place... "

she laughed.I then added: "Is there nothing we can do together?" We have always been interested in gardening.The new gardener is not as experienced as the old one. The garden has been left unused for two months, and many places need to be repaired.Some roses have not been pruned, some grow very lush, but the dead branches are clogged; some support collapsed, and the branches climbed wildly;Most of these flowers were grafted by us before, and we still know what we do, but taking care of them is time-consuming and labor-intensive, taking up our first three days.We also talked a lot, never involving serious matters, and when we were silent, there was no sense of heaviness in the silence.

We just got used to each other again.I don't want to make any explanations, or rely heavily on this habit.Even the matter of separation has faded between us; likewise, the fear I used to feel in her heart, and the contradiction she worried about in my soul, have also been sharply diminished.Alyssa looked more youthful than on my sad visit in the autumn, and she seemed to me more beautiful than ever.I haven't hugged her yet this time.Every night I saw the little amethyst crucifix on the gold chain, shining on her bodice.I have confidence, and hope revives in me.What did I say, hope?Already convinced, and I imagine Alyssa feels the same way.I had no doubts about myself, and therefore no doubts about her.Our conversation grew bolder.

One morning, when the air was warm and cheerful, and we were feeling so exhilarated, I couldn't help saying to her, "Alyssa, Juliet is happy now, and you can't let us both..." I spoke very slowly, my eyes fixed on her, and suddenly I saw that her face lost all color and was unusually pale, and I didn't finish the words to the point of my mouth. "My friend!" said she, without moving her eyes from me, "I am more than I can imagine being near you to be happy; but take my word for it: we were not made for happiness. .” "Aside from happiness, what higher pursuit does the soul have?" I shouted impulsively.

But she murmured: "Holy..." The voice was so low that I guessed it rather than heard it. All my happiness spreads its wings and leaves me in the sky. "I wouldn't have made it without you," I said.Then I buried my forehead in her knees, and wept like a child, but not tears of sorrow, but tears of love.I repeated again: "I can't do it without you, I can't do it without you!" The day passed like any other.At night, however, Alyssa did not wear the little amethyst crucifix.I kept my promise and left without saying goodbye at dawn the next day. On the third day of my departure I received this curious letter, which began with a few lines from Shakespeare:

Orsino shouted: "Enough! Don't play any more! It doesn't sound as sweet now as it used to." I cannot deal with the pitfalls of virtue.Everything that is heroic dazzles me and imitates me, because I have not separated virtue from love.Alyssa's letter aroused the most indiscreet zeal in me.For her sake alone, God knows, I have strenuously pursued the higher paths of virtue.Any path, as long as it climbs up, can lead me to her.what!No matter how suddenly the ground shrinks, it is not too fast, I hope it can only carry the two of us in the end!well!I didn't doubt her ingenuity, and it was hard to imagine that she could escape me again with the help of the peak.

I wrote her a long letter back, and I only remember this relatively sober passage: I have often felt that love is the best emotion I keep in my heart, on which all my other qualities depend.Love has lifted me above myself, but without you, I would fall back to the very ordinary, the mediocre.It is precisely because I hold the hope of meeting you that I always think that no matter how rough the path is, it is the right way. I don't remember what else I wrote in the letter, which prompted her to write this passage in reply: Yet, my friend, holiness is not a choice, but a calling (in her letter, the word is underlined with three underlines).If you are the kind of person I thought you were, then you also cannot escape this calling.

It's over.I see, or rather have a hunch, that our correspondence ends here, and that no matter how cunning the proposal, however persistent the will, it will be of no avail. However, I still wrote her a long letter with deep affection.After I sent my third letter, I got this text message: I did not reply.There can be no doubt that this silence was but the final test she had arranged for me.After months of study and weeks of travelling, I returned to Fungesmar Grange with complete peace of mind and conviction. How can I immediately explain things that I didn't understand at the beginning in a few words?Since then, I have been completely in mourning, and what can I describe here but why?Because, through the most false appearance, I failed to feel a still beating heart of love, and so far I can't find anything in myself that I can forgive myself. At first, I only saw this appearance, but I couldn't recognize it. If you don't know your girlfriend, you blame her... No, Alyssa, I don't blame you even then!Just crying in despair because I didn't recognize you.Now looking at your silent tricks and cruel tricks, I can measure the power of this love, so the more cruel you break my heart, the more I should love you? disdain?indifferent?Not at all, not something human can win at all, not something I can wrestle with.Sometimes I even hesitated, wondering if my misfortunes were mediocre, since their causes were always extremely subtle, and Alyssa always played deaf and dumb with the utmost dexterity.What can I complain about?When she received me, she was more smiling, more attentive and caring than ever.On the first day, I was almost mesmerized... She changed her hair style, combing her hair flat back, which made her face very straight and her expression changed.Likewise, she wore a poorly-coloured coarse bodice, which was ill-fitting and spoiled the charm of her figure... But after all, what did it matter?If she wants to make amends, these are nothing to worry about, and I also blindly think that she will change on her own initiative or at my request the next day... What I am more worried about is her attentive and caring attitude. Between us it was very unusual, if it was more of determination than passion, and, if I venture to say it, more of politeness than of love. In the evening, when I walked into the living room, I found that the piano in its original place had disappeared. I couldn't help being surprised, and cried out in disappointment. "The piano has been sent for repair, my friend," replied Alyssa, in a very calm voice. "How many times have I told you, son," said the uncle, reproachfully, "you've been using it up until now, and it's playing pretty well, and it won't be too late to send it in for repairs when Jerome is gone. Why bother?" , depriving us of a great pleasure..." "Well, Papa," said Alyssa, blushing, and turning her head, "the piano sounds so dull these days that even Jerome might not be able to play it in tune." "It doesn't sound so bad when you play it," said the uncle again. For a while Alyssa, with her head bent into the shadows, seemed absorbed in counting the stitches of the upholstery, and then she left the room abruptly and returned a long time later to bring her uncle's evening tea on a tray. The next day, her hairstyle was unchanged and her bra was not changed.Sitting on the bench in front of the house with her father, she picked up the sewing work that she had been rushing to do last night, or more precisely, the sewing work.Beside her was a big basket full of old socks, which she took out and spread out on the bench and table.A few days later, she went on to mend towels, bed sheets, etc. She was so absorbed in her work that her lips lost any expression and her eyes lost all light. On the first night, it was this poetic face that I could barely recognize. After staring at it for a long time, I couldn’t see her notice my gaze. I almost cried out in horror: "Alyssa!" "What's the matter?" she asked, looking up. "I just want to see if you can hear me. Your mind seems to be very far away from me." "No, it's here; but such mending requires great attention." "Would you like me to read you something as you've been sewing?" "I'm afraid I can't pay attention." "Why do you take such a tiring job?" "Someone has to do it." "There are many poor women who do this kind of work to earn a living. You have to do this kind of thankless work, isn't it to save some money?" She immediately made it clear to me that doing this kind of work is the happiest. She hasn't done other work for a long time, and I'm afraid it's all strange... She said these things with a smile, and her gentle voice has never been so makes me sad. "What I'm talking about is all natural. Why do you frown when you hear that?" Her face said so clearly.My heart wants to fight with all my strength, but it can only suffocate me, and I can't even speak. On the third day, we went to pick roses together, and Alyssa asked me to bring them to her room.This day, I have not entered her room.How much hope immediately sprouted in my heart!Because at that time, I still blamed myself for not being so sad-her words could dispel the dark clouds in my heart. Every time I walked into her room, I was always very excited. I didn't know how the room was arranged to form a harmonious and peaceful atmosphere, which was unique to Alyssa.The shades of blue under the curtains and hangings, the shining mahogany of the furniture, everything neat, clean, and peaceful, spoke to me of her purity and contemplative beauty. I went in that morning to find that the large photographs of two paintings by Masaccio that I had brought back from Italy had disappeared from the wall above her bed.I was surprised, and was about to ask her where the photos were, when my eyes suddenly fell on the shelf next to her favorite books, and I found a small library where half of the books I gave and half of the books we read together slowly accumulated. It was all removed, and replaced with a plethora of worthless religious pamphlets that she was sure to scoff at.I looked up again abruptly, and saw Alyssa smiling—yes, she was smiling and watching me. "Forgive me," she said immediately, "it's your face that made me laugh. When you saw my bookshelf, you lost your face..." I'm not in the mood for a joke. "No, seriously, Alyssa, are you reading these books now?" "Yeah, what's so strange?" "I was thinking that a wise man who is used to fine books would be disgusted by such dull things." "I don't understand what you're saying," she said. "These are simple souls, chat casually with me, try to be as clear as possible, and I like dealing with them too. I knew beforehand that neither of us would back down— —they never fall for the trap of fine language, and I never appreciate bad taste when I read them." "Is that all you see?" "Almost. It has been like this for the past few months. Besides, I don't have much time to read. To tell you the truth, just recently, I wanted to read the books of the great writers you taught me to appreciate. I feel like the guy in the Bible who tries to be taller than he is." "Which great author did you read that ended up giving you such a wacky self-assessment?" "He didn't give it to me, but it came naturally to me when I read it... He is Pascal. Maybe the passage I came across was not good..." I gestured impatiently.Her voice was clear and monotonous, as if she was reciting a book, her eyes were fixed on the bouquet, and the flower arrangements were endless.She paused a moment at this gesture, and then continued in the same tone: "It's full of high-pitched talk, surprising how much effort it takes to prove something. Sometimes I wonder if his impassioned tone comes from doubt rather than faith. There's not so much perfect faith Tears, the voice of speaking will not be so trembling." "It's the trembling and the tears that make the voice beautiful." I wanted to argue, but I didn't have the courage, because in these words I couldn't see anything I had cherished in Alyssa.I have faithfully recorded this conversation based on my recollection, without embellishing or arranging it afterwards. "If he doesn't first exclude pleasure from this life," she went on, "then it will weigh more in the balance than..." "Heavier than what?" I said, stunned at her queer remark. "Heavier than the indefinable bliss he speaks of." "So you don't believe it?" I said aloud. "It doesn't matter!" she went on, "I wish bliss to be indeterminate, so as to exclude entirely the element of transaction. The God-loving soul follows the path of virtue, not out of reward, but out of nobility. " "It is the secret skepticism that underlies Pascal's noble qualities." "It's not skepticism, but Jansenism." Alyssa said with a smile, "What's the use of these things?" She turned her head to look at the books, and then said, "These poor people can't tell the truth. Belonging to the Jansenists, the Quietists, or whatever. They prostrate themselves before God like grass blown by the wind, pure and simple, neither disturbed nor beautiful. They consider themselves small, Knowing that nothing is worth anything except being invisible to God." "Alyssa!" I exclaimed, "why are you humiliating yourself?" Her voice was always so calm and natural, and by comparison, I thought my exclamation seemed ridiculous. She smiled again and shook her head. "The last time I visited Pascal, all I gained..." "What is it?" I asked her when she stopped talking. "It's the words of Christ: 'He who saves his own life must perish.' As for the rest," she continued, smiling more clearly, and looking at me intently, "actually, I hardly understand it. After getting along with the little people for a while, it's really strange, and soon I can't stand the nobility of the big people." I'm in such a panic, what else can I think of to answer? ... "If I need to read all these admonitions, these silent prayers with you today..." "Why!" she interrupted me, "I should be very sorry to see you read these books! I do think you were born for great things, and you shouldn't be." She said it so casually that she gave no sign of realizing that such unfeeling words could tear my heart apart.My head was on fire, and I was about to say a few more words, and weep—perhaps my tears would overcome her; but I stayed there, with my elbows on the hearth, and my forehead in my hands, without saying a word. not come out.Alyssa continued to arrange the flowers quietly, not seeing my pain at all, or pretending not to see it... At this moment, the first bell for lunch rang. "I won't be in time for lunch anyway," she said. "You go." As if it were all a game, she added: "We'll talk about it later." The conversation did not continue.I can't catch Alyssa, it's not that she avoids me on purpose, but when something happens, it's very urgent and must be dealt with immediately.I had to wait in line until it was my turn when she finished her endless chores, oversaw repairs in the barn, and visited her growing caretakers of tenants and poor people.The time left for me is pitifully small, and I see her always so busy.Still, maybe I'd get through the banality and give up on chasing her to feel at least how frustrated I was.But a very short conversation can give me more warnings.Sometimes Alyssa gave me a moment, but really it was to accommodate a very awkward conversation, like playing with a child.She walked up to me in a hurry, nonchalantly, smiling, and felt very far away to me, as if she had never met me before.In her smile, I sometimes even feel that I see some kind of challenge, at least some kind of irony, that she takes pleasure in avoiding my wishes in this way... But then I turn to blame myself completely, because I I don't want to blame others at will, I don't know what to expect from her, and I don't know what to blame her for. The holiday, which I thought was endless fun, passed day by day like this.Each day greatly increased my misery, and I watched it pass in amazement, neither prolonging my stay nor slowing down its passage.However, just two days before my departure, Alyssa accompanied me to the abandoned marl quarry.It was a clear night in autumn, without any mist, and even the blue scenery of the sky was clearly discernible, and at the same time I saw the most erratic past - I couldn't help complaining, pointing out how much happiness I had lost, That's what caused today's misfortune. "But, my friend, what can I do about it?" she said at once, "you are in love with a phantom." "No, definitely not a ghost, Alyssa." "That's an imaginary figure, too." "Oh! I didn't make it up. She was my girlfriend and I'm calling her back. Alyssa! Alyssa! You're the girl I loved. What have you done to yourself? You've made yourself What's it like?" She kept silent, lowered her head, and slowly pulled off the petals of a flower. After a while, she finally said, "Jerome, why don't you just admit that you don't love me that much anymore?" "Because it's not true! Because it's not true!" I cried angrily. "Because I never loved you like this." "You love me...and you feel sorry for me!" she said, trying to force a smile and shrugging slightly. "I can't put my love in the past." The ground gave way under my feet, so I'm going to grab everything... "It must pass, like everything else." "This kind of love can only live and die with me." "It will wear off. The Alyssa you claim to love is only in your memory. One day, you'll just remember loving her." "You talk like that, as if something could take her place in my heart, or, as if my heart could stop loving. Don't you remember that you loved me, too, when you torment me so hard ?" I saw her pale lips tremble.Her voice was slurred, and she murmured: "No, no, this has not changed with Alyssa." "Then nothing will change," I said, and I took her by the arm... She came to her senses and said again: "There is a saying that can explain everything, why don't you dare to say it?" "What words?" "I'm old." "shut up……" I immediately argued that I was old myself, like her.How much is our age difference... At this time, she calmed down again, and the only opportunity was missed. I kept arguing, lost my advantage, and was at a loss again. Two days later, I left Fengesmar, dissatisfied with her and with myself, with a vague hatred for what I still called "virtue," and a resentment for what I still linger on.At this last meeting, my love was so overexpressed that it seemed to exhaust all my enthusiasm.When I first heard what Alyssa said, I always stood up and protested, but after my defense stopped, every word of her was alive in my heart with a gesture of victory.well!There is no doubt that she was right!What I loved was but a phantom: Alyssa, whom I loved and still love, is no more... Alas!Needless to say, we are getting old!The poetry disappeared, and my heart was shattered in the face of this terrible situation.But in the final analysis, the disappearance of poetry is just a return to nature, and there is no need to make a fuss.If I had exalted Alyssa, made her an idol, and beautified her with everything I loved, what was left of my long labors? ... As soon as Alyssa had gone her own way, she returned to her original level—the level of mediocrity, and I myself did the same, but on this level, there was no desire to love her.snort!It was purely my strength that placed her in a lofty position, and I had to strive for virtue to meet her.How absurd and illusory my efforts must now appear!If we are not so ambitious, our love will be easily realized... However, from now on, what's the point of insisting on a love without an object?This is stubbornness, not loyalty.What are you loyal to? — Be loyal to mistakes.Wouldn't it be wisest to simply admit that you were wrong? ... During this period, I accepted the recommendation to immediately enter the Academy of Athens, not because I had much ambition and interest, but because I was happy at the thought of leaving, as if I would be relieved once I left.