Chapter 12 ten

A few days passed in apparent calm.Edmee complained of being unwell, and seldom left the room; M. de La Marche came almost every day, and his chateau was not far away.I hated him more and more, though he was extremely courteous to me.I understood nothing of his philosophic inclinations, and dealt with him with the most savage prejudices and all the foul language I knew.It made my heart a little less painful to see him, like me, unable to get into Edmee's suite. The only major event of the week was that Patience had been accommodated in a log cabin near the castle.Since the Abbe Aubert found refuge with the knights and escaped the persecution of the sect, he had no need to visit his monk friend secretly.He urged his friend to leave his dwelling in the forest and be his neighbor.Patience was repeatedly entreated.So many years spent in solitude had made him fall in love with his gazoo tower and hesitate to love his circle of friends more.Besides, he said, the priest would be corrupted by his association with great men, and would soon be insensibly influenced by old ideas and cool down to sacred causes.Edmee did win Patience's heart, and she gave him a little lodging, her father's house, in a pretty lowland, at the exit of the park, and she did it with a fair degree of delicacy, so as not to hurt him. Sensitive self-esteem.It was to complete this important negotiation that the abbe went with Marcus that night to the Tower of Gazzo, and the wind and rain prevented them, and they gave Edmee and me a resting place.The frightful spectacle upon our arrival relieved Patience of his hesitation.He was enthusiastic about the ideas of Pythagoras and was afraid of bloodshed.The death of a doe can bring tears to his eyes, as in Shakespeare's Jack; furthermore, he cannot bear to witness the killing of human beings.When the Garzo Tower became the site of two tragic deaths, he felt that the Tower was defiled, and nothing could make him decide to spend another night there.He followed us to Saint-Several, and soon Edmee's guidance overcame his philosophical skepticism.The hut he was offered to enjoy was too shabby to make him blush for over-compromise with civilization.The solitude he felt in it was not as profound as in Garzo Tower, but the abbe and Edmee were so frequent that he had no right to complain.

At this point, the narrator interrupted again and began to further describe Miss de Maupra's character. Please don't think this is biased: Edmee lived in isolation, but she was one of the most perfect women in France.She had only to agree to show herself in high society if she wanted to be eminently admired and cited as a role model.She was very happy at home, where her talents and virtues were perfected in the sweetest simplicity.She didn't know her own advantages, just like I didn't know hers at that time. At that time, I was stubborn and lustful, and I could only observe with the naked eye, because she was beautiful and loved her.It must also be said that M. de La Marche, her fiancé, did not know her any better.He developed and developed the feeble understanding which he received from the cold schools of Voltaire and Helvetius.Edmee ignited her great wisdom in Jean-Jacques Rousseau's fiery words.The day came when I understood Edmee, but the day when de La Marche understood her never came.

Edmee, motherless at an early age, grew up almost alone, with a trusting, kind, but careless father who gave free rein to her vigorous inspiration.Father Aubert gave her the first communion, but could not dispel the ideas of the philosophers she had received through reading, which also attracted him.There was no contradiction around her, not even an argument, she was her father's idol, and she dragged him down no matter what.Edmee remains faithful to principles that appear to be quite contradictory: a philosophy that conceives the destruction of Christianity and a Christianity that excludes the spirit of censorship.In order to explain this contradiction, you will probably recall that I told you about the effect on the abbe Aubert of the sermons of the parson of Savoy.Besides, you are not unaware that, in poetic minds, mysticism and skepticism are equally divided.Jean-Jacques Rousseau is a brilliant and excellent example.You know what sympathy he aroused in the hearts of clergy and nobles, and at that time he even condemned them with great vehemence.What miracles can be wrought by faith, backed up by eloquent eloquence!Edmee drank from this fountain of life with all the yearning of a fiery heart.It was rare for her to go to Paris to find a sympathetic soul.But there, what she found was a variety of different points of view, incomprehensible, and above all, so many prejudices that were hard to eradicate, despite their popularity.So she loved her solitude and her poetic reverie under the old oak in the garden.She has spoken of her disappointment in rejecting, with reason beyond her age, perhaps beyond her womanhood, all direct contact with the philosophers whose writings constituted her spiritual life.

"I'm a bit of a pleasure seeker," she said with a smile. "I'd rather smell a bouquet of roses that was put in a vase for me in the morning than look for roses among thorn bushes and under the hot sun." What she said of her luxury was no more than a wisecrack.She grew up in the fields, strong, vivacious, bold, witty, and, to her delicate charm, added the strength of physical health and mental health.This is a proud and bold girl, but also a kind and benevolent mistress of the castle.I often felt that she was very proud and contemptuous; Patience and the poor of the village always felt her humility and generosity.

Edmee liked poets almost as much as spiritualists;One day she took a work by Ben Tasso and met Patience. According to his habit, he asked curiously about the author and the content.Edmee had to acquaint him with the Crusades; it was not the most difficult thing.Relying on the priest's narration and his astonishing memory for facts, Patience knew a thing or two about the general history.It is not easy for him to remember the relationship and difference between epic and history.At first, he dismissed the imagination of poets, thinking that people should never endure such deception; later, when he realized that epic poetry is far from misleading generations, but magnifying proportions and perpetuating the glory of heroic deeds, He also wondered why all the important historical achievements were not chanted by lyric poets, why human history could not find a folk form that could be engraved in people's minds without resorting to words.He asked Edmee to explain to him a verse of "Jerusalem Liberated"; while he was chanting, she showed him a poem translated into French.A few days later she acquainted him with the second, and soon Patience understood the whole psalm.He was pleased to know that this heroic epic was widely circulated in Italy; he recalled it, and tried to give a brief account in coarse prose; but he could not remember the words.Strong impressions made his heart sway, and a thousand magnificent sights passed before his eyes.He improvised, his genius overcame the vulgarity of his speech; but he could not repeat what he had said.It still doesn't help that someone has to dictate it; and even if he could read the record, his memory, which works only at the moment of presentation, can never preserve a single fragment of the language's exact utterance.But he quotes a lot, and his language is sometimes biblical; except for certain phrases he likes and a few short aphorisms which he has managed to make his own, he has no recollection of passages which are often repeated. , he always listened to these passages with the excitement of the first time.It was a delight to see what the beauty of poetry had to do with such a robust physique.The priest, Edmee, and then I gradually acquainted him with Homer and Dante.He was so strongly impressed by the plot that he could retell the outline of the Divine Comedy from beginning to end, neither forgetting nor reversing the travels, encountering any part of the poet's passions: so far was his power.When he tried to say some of the words that moved him when he was listening, he could say a lot of metaphors and images that were almost confused.Patience's foray into poetry marked a transitional period in his career that made him envision action that was lacking in real life.He sees great battles in his magic mirror, sees heroes ten feet high; he understands love, though he has never experienced it; To point out the errors of man and to build temples to the great spirits of the world.He saw the gods of Mount Olympus, the fathers of primitive men, from the starry sky; he saw the history of the Golden Age and the Bronze Age in the collection of talents; Singing, saluting the ghosts of Fingal and Comara against the dark clouds brewing the storm.In his later years, he said: ① Tasso (1544-1595), an Italian poet, named "Jerusalem Liberated".

② See the famous long poem "Fingal" (included in "Osin's Poems") by the Scottish poet James Mark Ferson (1736-1796) in the 18th century.The poem is a tribute to Fingal, king of the legendary kingdom of Morvan.Comala is one of the protagonists in the poem. "Before I knew the poets, I acted like a man who seemed to have no sense. I saw that it was necessary, because so many things demanded it. I walked restlessly in the night, wondering Why can't I sleep, why I look up at the stars so beautifully, I can't help myself, why my heart suddenly beats with joy at the sight of certain colors, or tears of melancholy at the hearing of certain sounds. Sometimes, I take myself to last The incessant excitement, compared with the innocence of some of my class, was so frightening that I thought I was mad. But I thought my mad love was sweet, and I would rather never get better than get better, Soon comforted. Now, I need only know whether these things have been found good by any wise man in all ages, in order to know what they are, and where they are useful. I am glad to think that no flower, There is not a slight emotion, not a breath that does not acquire a conventional name among all peoples by directing the attention and moving the heart. Since I have known that a man can, without impairing reason, to I live in the universe and explain the universe with dreams, so I live in the gaze of the universe; seeing all kinds of suffering and evil in society breaks my heart and restores my reason a little bit, so I indulge in dreams I think that since everyone knows each other from the love of the sacred cause, they will one day be close to each other because of love. I imagine that education will be more and more perfect from father to son. Perhaps I am ignorant I was the first person among those who realized that no thought communicates with the outside world. Perhaps there were many people before me who were disturbed by what happened to them, and couldn't find the reason to the death. We are just poor people! added Paccience, "we are not forbidden to work too hard, nor to drink too much, nor to indulge in excesses that destroy our wits. There are those who hire manual labor at such a high price that the poor work for the needs of their families. More than we could; there were taverns and other places more dangerous, from which the government was said to extract profit; and priests who went up to the altar and told us that we owed our village lords, and our lords would never We owe our debts. There is no school that teaches us where our rights lie, teaches us to distinguish between real and legitimate needs and shameful and harmful needs, and tells us that we sweat all day to benefit others, and in the evening Sitting at the door of a log cabin, looking up at the red stars appearing from the sky, what can and should be thought of.”

Thus Patience babbled; believe me, in expressing his words in methodical language, I lost its charm, its ardor, its passion.But can anyone reproduce Patience's wording?His language was his alone, made up of the limited but powerful vocabulary of the peasant and the wildest similes of the poet, and he further made the poetic expression bolder.His synthetic mind gave order and logic to this mixed dialect.The natural and unimaginable richness replaces the brevity of expression.One must see what a heroic struggle his will and faith are waging against the impotence of his idioms; it would not have been brilliantly settled by anyone else; The man who would laugh at his grammatical errors and boldness had in him a quality of observations of the utmost importance to the development of the human spirit, and a most affectionate admiration of primitive moral beauty.

After I had fully acquainted with Patience, I came into a sympathetic bond with him because of my extraordinary fate.Like him, I am uncultured; like him, I have looked for my own explanation from outside me, like an anagram.By the accidents of birth and fortune, I attained all development, while Patience wrestled to death in the darkness of ignorance; he neither wanted nor could step out of the circle of ignorance; for me, Admitting the advantages of this strong body is just an extra layer of reason. This body relies on the faint flashes of instinct to move forward courageously, rather than relying on the torchlight of science, but it does not have any bad tendencies to overcome, and I But there are all kinds of bad tendencies.

At the time of the story which I shall continue to relate, Patience seemed to me no more than a comic figure, the object of Edmee's amusement, and the good-natured sympathy of the Abbe Auberge.They spoke of him to me in serious tones, and I did not understand them; I imagined that they took the subject as a metaphor for pointing out to me the virtues of education, the necessity of early education, and the futility of regretting it later. I went for a walk in the bushes which surrounded his new house; I saw Edmee going there through the garden, and I hoped to go back alone with her, unexpectedly.However, she was always accompanied by the priest, and sometimes even by her father; if she was alone with the old farmer, he would then send her back to the castle.I used to hide among the branches of a terrible-shaped yew-pine, not far from the hut, with drooping branches and dense buds; and I saw Edmee sitting in the doorway with a book in her hand, With his arms folded, his head drooping on his chest, he seemed to be listening intently to her reading.I then imagined that Edmee was trying to teach him to read; and I felt that she was madly attached to such a futile education.In the afterglow of the setting sun, under the yellowing grape vines in front of the hut, she is beautiful and charming; I stare at her, thinking in my heart, she belongs to me, and swear in my heart that I will never give in to any force, nor will I give up this request Concessions in persuasion work.

For the last few days my pain has been at its climax; I have no other means of relieving it than drinking at dinner, trying to be almost dull at the moment that pains me and hurts me; At the time, she embraced her father, stretched out her hand to M. de La Marche to kiss, and then left the restaurant and said, "Good night, Bernard!" Tomorrow will end like today." In vain I sat in the armchair nearest the door, so that her dress would touch mine when she went out; I never got anything else; I did not reach out to take hers , because she will inadvertently reach out to me, and I believe I will pinch her hand off in anger.

I ended up in a silent and melancholy stupor from the supper drink.Then I buried myself in my favorite arm-chair, and dozed there gloomily, till the smell of the wine died down, and I went to the garden to chant my wild dreams and ominous plans. Everyone seems to be unaware of this vulgar habit.In my opinion, this family was so tolerant and merciful that they were afraid to make the most reasonable observations of me; they had noticed my disgraceful drinking, and the curate had reminded Edmee of it.One evening, during dinner, she stared at me oddly several times.I watched her too, expecting her to challenge me; we exchanged merely unfriendly glances.As she left the table, she said quickly to me in a low, commanding tone: "Get out of drinking and learn everything the priest taught you." Far from giving me hope, this order and this authoritative tone, I was annoyed, and my timidity vanished.I waited until she went upstairs to the bedroom, and left a little earlier than her, so as to meet her on the stairs.I said to her: "Do you think I'm going to fall for your lies? You haven't spoken to me in the month since I've been here, and you don't think I've noticed that you've lied to me for a fool? You lied to me, and today you Look down on me, because I honestly always believed what you said." "Bernard," she said to me in a cold voice, "this is not the place or the time for our explanations." "Oh!" said I, "I know that, in your opinion, this is never the place to talk, nor the time; but I'll find the place and the time, don't worry. You said you loved me; you Throwing your arms around my neck, kissed me and said—and I still feel your lips on my cheek: 'Save me, I pray in the Gospel, in honor, in memory of my mother and of your mother By my name, I shall be yours.' I know that you say these words because you are afraid of my strength; I know now that you shun me because you are afraid of my rights. But there is nothing you can do ;I swear you won't be playing tricks on me for long." "I'll never be yours," she said, in increasingly cold tones, "if you don't change your words, your manners, your feelings. I'm not afraid of you as you are. When I think you've become kind and generous, I will give in to you, half out of fear, half out of sympathy; but since I no longer love you, I am less afraid of you. Change it, educate yourself, and we shall see later. " "Very well," I said to her, "I have heard this promise. I will act in this way, and if I do not get happiness, I will take revenge." "You can take revenge all you like," she said, "and it will make me despise you." Saying so, she took out a piece of paper from her bosom, put it on the candle, and lit it quietly. "What are you doing?" I said to her. She answered: "I'm burning a letter I wrote to you. I was trying to get you to reason. But it's no use; you can't explain it to rude people." "Give me this letter!" I cried, rushing at her to snatch the lit paper. She quickly retracted the paper, bravely snuffed out the fire in her hands, threw the candlestick at my feet, and fled into the darkness.I chased her in vain.She reached the door of her bedroom before I did and opened the door.I heard the locking of the deadbolt, and Mademoiselle Leblanc, who asked the young mistress why she was alarmed. "It's nothing," replied Edmee in a trembling voice, "a practical joke." I went downstairs to the garden, walking frantically through the paths.After the rage came a deep melancholy.Edmee, haughty and daring, seemed to me more graceful and charming than ever.Her character is easily irritated and prone to rebellion.I felt I had offended her, that she didn't love me, and probably never would.I did not give up my sinful determination to possess her by force, and I reveled in the pain her hatred caused me.I leaned casually against a dark wall, cupped my head in my hands, and whimpered in despair.My strong chest felt like it was about to burst, and the tears couldn't go my way to relieve the depression in my chest; I really wanted to roar, and I bit my handkerchief, not giving in to this temptation.That mournful sound from my suppressed throat caught the attention of someone who was praying in the church on the other side of the wall I happened to be leaning against.A pointed arched window, with plum blossoms on a stone mullion, was just as high as my head. "Who is it?" asked a pale face, illuminated by the oblique rays of the rising moon. I recognized Edmee, and wanted to go away; her beautiful arms stretched out of the frame, and she seized me by the collar, saying: "Why are you crying, Bernard?" I gave in to this soft, half-hard tone, half ashamed that my secret of weakness had been discovered, and half glad to see that Edmee was hiding it. "What troubles you?" she asked. "Who can make you cry like that?" "You look down on me and hate me. Why do you still ask me why I am sad? Why are you angry?" "Are you crying out of anger?" she asked, pulling her arm back. I replied, "I was crying out of anger, and there were other reasons." Edmee asked: "Any other reason?" "I don't know; it may be trouble, as you say. The truth is that I'm sick; my breasts feel like they're going to burst. I must leave you, Edmee, and go live in the woods. I can't." Stay here." "Why do you suffer so? Explain, Bernard; now is the time to explain." "Yes, there is a wall between us. I don't think you will be afraid of me being here." "I think I've been expressing concern for you, and wasn't I friendly an hour ago when there was no wall between us?" "I am sure you are not a coward, Edmee, because you always have a way of evading people, or seizing them with sweet words. Ah! It has been well said that all women lie and cannot love a woman." "Who told you that? Your uncle John, or your uncle Goucher, or your grandfather Tristan?" "Laugh, laugh all you want! It's not my fault they brought me up. They can tell the truth sometimes." "Bernard, do you want me to tell you why they think women lie?" "Say it." "This is because they use violence against those who are weaker than them. Whoever makes people fear is in danger of being deceived. When you were a child, John beat you, and you never covered up your small mistakes, To avoid severe punishment?" "That's right; it's the only way I can." "So subterfuge is, if not the right of the oppressed, at least their means. Don't you think so?" "I feel that I love you, and I have no reason for you to deceive me." "Who told you that I deceived you?" "You deceived me; you told me you loved me, but you didn't love me." "I loved you in the past because I have seen you waver between hateful principles and generosity in favor of justice and uprightness. I love you now because I have seen you triumph over evil principles, your hateful Sudden thoughts followed by tears of kindness. These are the words I can confess to you in the face of God and my hand is on my conscience to see you as you are. Sometimes I feel you are far below you itself, so that I no longer recognize you and think I don't love you. Bernard, may I never doubt you, nor myself, it depends only on you." "How do I do this?" "You must break your bad habits, listen to good advice, and open your heart to moral principles. You are a savage, Bernard, and I believe that neither your clumsy salutations nor your ignorance of flattery make me I don't like you. On the contrary, if you have great thoughts and lofty feelings under this stupidity, it seems to me that there is a lot of charm. But your feelings and thoughts are like your manners, Here's what I can't stand. I know it's not your fault; if I saw you determined to change yourself, in faults or in your strengths, I'd love you just as much. Sympathy brings tenderness; but I don't love evil, I can't love Evil, if you cultivate evil in yourself instead of uprooting it, I cannot love you. Do you understand?" "not understand." Why don't you understand? " "I can't understand you. I don't feel evil in me. If you didn't dislike my lack of grace in my thighs, the lack of whiteness in my hands, the lack of grace in my speech, I wouldn't know you hate Something in me. I have heard evil creeds since childhood, but I have not embraced them. I never thought evil was allowed to be committed, or at least I never felt pleasure in doing so. When I did evil, I was compelled by force Yes. I have always hated my uncles and their conduct. I don't like other people to suffer; I don't like to deprive anyone; To drink water all my life, though I love to drink, and to get a good supper, I can bleed like my uncles if necessary. I fought with them, I drank with them, when What else can I do? Now that I can do what I like, who have I done wrong? Does your priest, who talks of virtue, think me a murderer or a thief? Admit it, Edmee, you Know that I am a man of integrity; you do not think me wicked; I do not please you because I have no wit, and you, M. de La Marche, because he says stupid things that make me blush." "Yes, to please me," she said with a smile, listening to me intently, without taking my hand out of my grip over the bars, "yes, to win over M. de La Marche, you As you said, get the talent, can't you do it?" "I don't know anything," I replied after a moment's hesitation, "perhaps I'd do something crazy about it, because I don't know how much power you have over me; Something very crazy is coming." "Why, Bernard?" "Because a woman loves a man not for his good heart, but for his intellect, it's not worth my life. That's how I see it." When it was her turn to be silent, she pressed my hand and said: "You are more sensitive and intelligent than everyone thinks. I have to be honest with you and tell you that, like you, even if you never change, I still have a respect and a friendship with you that will last a lifetime. Believe it, Bernard, no matter what I say to you in anger, because you know that I am easily excitable: this is my blood. The blood of the Maupra family will never be as calm as that of other people's blood The earth flows. Bear with me my pride, which you know well; do not flaunt to me the rights you have acquired. Love cannot be commanded, it must be pursued or provoked; You; never tell me that I am compelled to love you." "That's true," I answered. "Why do you sometimes speak to me as if I were obliged to obey you? Why do you forbid me to drink tonight and order me to study?" "Even if people can't control the love that doesn't exist, at least they can control the love that exists. Because I can hold your love firmly, I can control it." "Very well!" I exclaimed excitedly, "and I have a right to command your love, because you have told me that it must exist. . . . Edmee, I want you to embrace me." "Let go, Bernard," she cried, "you're going to break my arm. Look, you've pressed my arm hard against the bars, and you've cracked it." "Why are you resisting me?" I said to her, bruising her arm with my lips chasing after me. "Oh! how unfortunate I am! Damn the bars! Edmee, if you would bow your head, I could kiss you... as I kiss my sister. Edmee, what are you afraid of?" "My dear Bernard," she replied, "in the circle of my life no one kisses even sisters, no one embraces one another secretly anywhere. If you like, I can hug each other every day in the presence of my father." You, but absolutely not here." "You'll never hug me!" I cried, falling back into my accustomed irritation. "What about your promise? My rights? "If we get married..." she said awkwardly, "when you get the education I'm asking you to have..." "I'd rather die than do it! Are you laughing at me? Is there any talk of marriage between us? It's far from it; I don't want your property, I've told you." "My property and yours are one," she replied, "and we are so closely related that yours and mine are meaningless words. I never think that you are greedy. I know that you love me, and that you have tried everything to prove to me that the day will come when your love will no longer frighten me, and I will accept it before God and men." "If that had been your idea," I went on; and she had given me a new direction of thought, and diverted me entirely from my wild impulses, "I am in a very different position; indeed, I must Think about it... I didn't expect you to understand it this way..." "How do you think I can understand it differently?" she said. "Isn't a lady ruined by giving herself to another man instead of her husband? I don't want to be ruined. You love me, you love me." Nor would you. You would not have me commit an irreparable mistake. If you attempted it, you would be my sworn enemy." "Wait a minute, Edmee, a moment," I continued, "I have nothing to say about my intentions, I have never had a fixed idea about you. I have only wishes, and I will Crazy. Do you want me to marry you? Oh! Why, my God?" "Because a self-respecting maiden cannot belong to a man who has no thought, no resolution, no confidence that she will always be his. Don't you see that?" "There are many things I don't understand, and I have never thought about it." "Education, Bernard, will teach you to give due consideration to those things that concern you most, to your position, to your duty, to your sentiments. You cannot see clearly your own heart or your conscience. .I'm used to asking myself and controlling everything, how can you make me regard a man who succumbs to instinct and acts as he pleases as my master?" "As a master! As a husband! Yes, I understand that you would not submit your life to a brute like me... But I didn't ask you for that!... I can't stop thinking about it Shiver!" "But you must think about it, Bernard; think about it, and when you do so, you will feel the need to follow my advice and bring your thoughts into line with your new position after leaving the Mopra Rock; Once you acknowledge this necessity, you will speak out to me, and then we will take a few more necessary decisions." She gently withdrew her hand from mine, and I believe she said goodnight to me, but I didn't hear it.I was lost in my own thoughts, and when I raised my head to talk to her, she was gone.I entered the church; she had returned to her bedroom from the high altar which communicated with her suite. I went back to the garden, went into the depths, and stayed there all night.My conversation with Edmee opened me into a new world.Hitherto I have been a member of the Mopraites, and it did not occur to me that I could, or should not, continue to be so; I remained within the narrow circle of my mind, except by habit, which varied with circumstances.I stayed in the midst of the new things around me, feeling wounded by their true power, secretly holding my will against humiliation.I believe that nothing, with all my stoicism and perseverance, can bring me out of this obstinate ditch, if Edmee does not intervene.The glitz and luxury of life have only the charm of novelty for me.The rest of the body oppresses me; the tranquility of this well-ordered, silent house would overwhelm me, if Edmee's presence and the storm of my desires had not filled me with excitement and vision.I did not wish for a moment to be master of this house and of this property, and I was just now glad to hear that Edmee had done justice to my innocence.I resisted the thought of linking two very different goals, my passion and my interests.I wandered in the garden, feeling agitated and unsure, and unconsciously came to the field.The night view is magnificent.The full moon shone brightly over the fallow fields parched from the heat of the day.The wilted plants raised their stalks again, and every leaf seemed to absorb the cool moisture of the night through all its stomata.I too felt the warm influence; my heart beat violently, but regularly.I was full of dim hopes; Edmee's image, floating on the meadow-path before me, would no longer arouse that painful agitation and wild desire that consumed me. I crossed an open field, here and there a few clumps of trees cut off the green fields of the pasture.淡黄色的大耕牛跪卧在小片的草地上，纹丝不动，似乎沉浸在平静的观赏中。平缓的山同朝天际那边升高，毛茸茸的山脊好似在皎洁的月光下起伏。我破天荒头一回发现夜晚迷人的美和雄伟壮丽的气象。难以描述的舒适感沁入我的心脾；我仿佛也是头一回看见月亮、山冈和牧场。我记得听爱德梅说过，没有比自然景色更美的了，我对直到那时还不知道这一点感到惊讶。我不时想跪下祷告上帝；但我担心不知对他说些什么，祷告不好，反而会冒读他。我告诉你们一个古怪的臆想吧，他像富有诗意的爱情，依稀显露在我蒙昧的混沌中，来到我脑子里。月亮如此慷慨地照耀着景物，我在草坪中甚至分得清朵朵小花。草地上的一朵小雏菊形成白色的环状，大红的边饰，金色的花萼缀满钻石般的露水，在我眼里显得如此美丽，我便采撷下来，吻遍了花，在一种令人快乐的迷乱中叫道： “这是你，爱德梅！是的，这是你！你在这儿！你再也避不开我！” 待我抬起头来，看到有人目睹自己的癫狂状态时，我是何等难堪呵！帕希昂斯伫立在我面前。 被人发现自己这样狂放不羁，我大为不满，出于“强盗”的习惯残余，我在腰间摸索我的刀；可是我既没系腰带，也没有挂刀，我穿的有口袋的绸背心令我想起，我的装束已无法加害于人。帕希昂斯露出微笑。 “喂，喂，怎么啦？”隐士沉静和蔼地说，“您以为我不知道情况吗？我并非天真到什么事也不明白；我并非老到什么事也看不清。每当圣洁的姑娘坐在我的门口，是谁摇晃我的水松树枝？我送漂亮的孩子回她父亲家里时，是谁像只小狼一样蹑手蹑脚地在矮树林下跟随我们？要干什么坏事吗？你们俩都是年轻人，你们俩都很漂亮，你们是亲戚，只要您愿意，您就会成为一个高尚正直的男子汉大丈夫，正如她是一个高尚正直的姑娘那样。” 听到帕希昂斯提起爱德梅，我的气全消了。我渴望谈论她，甚至想听人讲她坏话，仅仅为了听人提起她的名字时感到快意。我继续同帕希昂斯肩并肩地漫步。老人跌足踩在露水上。他的脚早就没有穿鞋的习惯，长了厚厚一层胼胝，简直能防御一切，这倒是真的。他的全部衣服只有一条蓝布长裤，没有吊裤带，裤腰落到臀部上面，还有一件粗布衬衫。他不能忍受衣服的束缚。他的皮肤经过日晒，变得坚韧，对冷热毫不敏感。他年过八旬，只见他光着脑袋，行走在毒热的太阳下，而在刺骨的寒风中半敞开外衣。自从爱德梅照料他的饮食起居，他干净多了；可是，除了他一直憎恶的厚颜无耻之外，往日的犬儒主义仍然残留在他衣着的凌乱和对一切超过必需品限度以外的东西的厌恶之中。他的胡于像银子一样闪光。他的秃顶闪亮，月光洒在上面，如同洒在水上。他慢悠悠地走着，双手反剪在背后，额头昂起，俨然在监视他的帝国一般。他的目光往往扫向天空，他指着繁星点点的苍穹，打断谈话说： “看哪，这多美啊！” 这是我看到过的惟一观赏天空的农民，至少这是我见到过的惟一了解自己赞赏的对象的农民。 我对他说：“帕希昂斯先生，您为什么认为，只要我愿意，我就会成为一个正直的人呢？您认为我眼下不是吗？” “哦！别生气，”他回答，“帕希昂斯有权无话不说。他不是宫堡的愚人吗？” “爱德梅认为，相反，您是宫堡的智者。” “上帝圣洁的姑娘这样认为吗？那么，如果她这样认为，我就愿像智者那样行动，向您提出一个好建议，贝尔纳?莫普拉先生。您想听吗？” “好像这儿的人都热衷于建议。没关系，我洗耳恭听。” “您爱上了您的堂妹吗？” “您提出这样的问题，真够大胆。” “这不是问题，这是事实。唔，我对您说，让您的堂妹爱上您，做她的丈夫吧。” “您为什么对我这么关心，帕希昂斯先生？” “因为我知道您和她很般配。” “谁告诉您的？是神甫吗？” "no." “是爱德梅？” “多少是。但她不怎么爱您，而这是您的过错。” “怎么会这样，帕希昂斯？” “因为她希望您变得有知识，而您呢，您却不愿意。啊！我这个可怜的帕希昂斯，如果我像您这样的年纪，如果我每天能关在房里两小时而不憋气，如果我遇到的人都关心我的学习，如果有人对我说：'帕希昂斯，这是昨天做好的事；帕希昂斯，这是明天要做的事。'那多好呀！罢了！我得自己找到一切，时间要那么长，还没找到我想知道的东西的1/10，我便会老死。听着，我希望您娶上爱德梅，还有一个理由。” “什么理由，善良的帕希昂斯先生？” “那就是：拉马尔什和她不般配。我跟她说过，是的！也跟他说过，跟神甫和所有人说过。这不是个男子汉。他香喷喷，像整座花园一样；我宁愿要一丁点欧百里香。” “说实话！我也不喜欢他。但是，如果我的堂妹爱他呢？嗯，帕希昂斯？” “您的堂妹不爱他。她以为他善良，她以为他真心实意；她搞错了，他欺骗她，他欺骗大家。我一清二楚，这个人没有这个（帕希昂斯将手摁在自己的心口上）。这个人总在说：'我品德高尚！我属于不幸的人们！我大智大慧，属于人类的朋友，等等，等等。'我，帕希昂斯，我知道，他会让穷人饿死在他的宫堡门口。我知道，如果有人对他说：'献出你的宫堡，吃黑面包，献出你的土地，当兵去，那么，世界便不再有不幸的人，像你所说的，人类就会得救。'这个人就会说：'谢谢，我是我的土地的领主，我对自己的宫堡并不感到腻烦。'噢！我了解这些假好人！跟爱德梅截然不同！您不知道这个！您爱她是因为她像草地上的雏菊一样美丽，而我爱她是因为她像照亮大家的月亮一样美好。这个姑娘肯献出她拥有的一切，不戴任何首饰，因为靠一只金戒指，你可以让一个人生活一年。要是她在路上遇到一个孩子脚受了伤，她就会脱下自己的鞋给他，自己光脚走路。您看到，她是个直心肠的人。如果明天圣赛韦尔的村民簇拥而来寻找她，对她说：'小姐，您生活够富裕了；把您的东西赐给我们吧，如今轮到您干活了。'她就会说：'很对，我的好孩子们。'她会高高兴兴地赶着畜群到田野去！她的母亲也一模一样；您瞧，我认识她年轻时的母亲，就像她眼下这样，也像您这样！那是个能干的女子，又仁慈又正直。据说您也是这样。” “唉，不！”我回答，被帕希昂斯的一番话说得感动了。“我既不仁慈，也不正直。” “您还没能这样做，但这写在您的心上，我知道。有人说我是巫师，多少是这样。我能马上了解一个人。您还记得有一天您在瓦利代的蕨草地上对我说过的话吗？您跟西尔万在一起，我跟马尔卡斯在一起。您对我说，一个正直的人争吵过后会复仇的。对了，莫普拉先生，如果您不满意我在加佐塔楼向您表示的歉意，那就说出来。您瞧，这儿没有人，不管我多么年迈，我的手腕仍然像您一样有力；我们可以较量一番，这是与生俱来的权利；尽管我不赞成这样，但我从不拒绝向提出要求的人赔礼道歉。我知道，有的人如果没法复仇，就会郁闷而死；我如今在对您说话，为了忘掉我受到的侮辱，非得五十年以上……当我想到这一点时，我对贵族的仇恨便苏醒了；我认为内心里原谅了某些人简直就是犯罪。” “我非常满意，帕希昂斯先生；相反，我感受到您的友谊。” “啊！我愿助您一臂之力！善良的青年人！啊，莫普拉，鼓起勇气吧。听从神甫的劝告吧，他是一个义士。尽力讨您堂妹的喜欢吧，她是天上的一颗星星。认识真理，热爱人民，憎恶那些仇恨人民的人；时刻准备为人民作出牺牲……听着，听着！我知道我要说什么；做人民的朋友吧。” “人民比贵族好吗，帕希昂斯？既然您是一个智者，那就真心诚意地说出真理。” “人民胜过贵族，因为贵族压榨人民，让人民受苦！不过，也许贵族不能永远使人民受苦。您必须知道这一点；您仔细观察过这些星星吗？它们不会改变，总在同一个位置上，再过一万年仍然会喷射出同今天一样的火焰，可是再过一百年，兴许不到一百年，地球上却会大变特变。要信赖向往真理的人，要信赖不让强权者盛气凌人的样子吓住自己的人。穷人受够了苦，将会起而反对富人，宫堡纷纷倒塌，土地将被分掉。我看不到这情景了，但您会看到的；在这个花园里，将有十间茅屋，这十户人要靠收入为生。再没有仆人、主人，也没有农奴、领主。有的贵族会狂呼乱叫，只向武力让步，如果您的几个叔叔还活着，他们就会这样做，德?拉马尔什先生也会这样做，即使他会唱高调。有的贵族会慷慨地行动，比如爱德梅，比如您，如果您听从理智的话。那时，爱德梅的丈夫是个普通人，而不是花花公子，对她将是好事。贝尔纳?莫普拉为了养家，学会把犁，或者猎取好上帝的野味，这将是好事；老帕希昂斯将躺在坟墓的草下，不能向爱德梅回报他受到的照顾。别耻笑我说的话，年轻人；这是上帝的声音在这样说。看看天空吧。繁星平静地生存着，什么也不能扰乱它们永恒的秩序。大不吃小，没有哪一颗星星冲向它的邻居。同样的秩序笼罩着人们的时代将会来临。恶人将被上帝的罡风席卷而去。莫普拉大人，练好您的腿脚，好始终站住，扶稳爱德梅；帕希昂斯在提醒您，他只希望您万事如意。但也会有人总想作恶，那就得让好人成为强者。” 我们一直来到帕希昂斯的茅屋。他的小院的栅栏前站住，一只手撑住栏杆，另一只手比比划划，说得斩钉截铁。他的目光像火焰一样闪光，他的脑门汗水涔涔；他的言论中有些强有力的东西，像老预言者的话那样，而他的服装胜过平民的朴素，越加提高手势的豪爽和声音的热忱。曾几何时，法国革命使人们明了，人民中自有滔滔雄辩的口才和无情的逻辑力量；此刻我所见到的对我非常新颖，给我强烈印象，我的毫无规律、毫无节制的想像被卷到童年时迷信的恐怖中。他向我伸出手来，我怀着比同情更强烈的恐惧顺从了这一召唤。加佐塔楼的巫师将血淋淋的猫头鹰吊在我头顶上，这情景刚从我眼前掠过。