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 tightly surrounding Polka Dot Road, and the flowers were 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, but she heard me and stood up abruptly, dropping the embroidery work in my hands 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 kept her arms outstretched, her face smiling and her head raised, without saying a word, she stared at me tenderly.She was wearing a white dress.On her somewhat overly serious face, I rediscovered her childhood smile. ... "Listen, Alyssa," I said suddenly, "I have twelve days of vacation, and if you are unhappy, 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 for a moment, then said: "Well, if I go downstairs to eat at night, 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, and some grow very lushly, but with dead branches;Most of them were grafted by us in the past, and all of them still knew what they were doing. They needed to be looked after, which was time-consuming and labor-intensive, and took 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 more beautiful than ever in my opinion.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 our hearts were so exhilarated, I couldn't help saying to her: "Alyssa, Juliet is happy and happy now, you can't let us both..." I spoke slowly, my eyes fixed on her, and suddenly I saw that her face had 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 happy in your side than I can imagine; 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..." in such a low voice that I guessed it rather than heard it. All my happiness spreads its wings, leaves me and soars into 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: Plays the tune again, the rhythm fades away, By my ears like a breeze blows violets; With a soft voice, stealing the fragrance of violets, Steal and give away.Enough is enough, don't play any more; Now it sounds not as sweet as it used to be. ... ①The original text is in English, quoted from Shakespeare. good!I can't help it, I've been looking for you all morning, my brother!I can't believe you're really gone.I still blame you for keeping your promise.I always think: this is a game, any minute I'll see him come out from behind the bushes. --actually not!You did go.thanks.

For the rest of the day, my head was churning with thoughts I wanted to tell you—and I also had a real, inexplicable fear that if I didn't tell you, I'd feel right about it later. If I can't live with you, I deserve to be condemned. ... During the first few hours of your stay at Fengesmar, I felt a strange contentment in my being by your side, and I was first surprised, then quickly disturbed.Thou hast said to me: "Very content, and nothing more!" Alas!It's this that bothers me... I am afraid, my friend, that you should be misunderstood, and especially that you should take the expression of the pure and strong emotion of my soul for a delicate reasoning (oh! how clumsy it would be if it were reasoning!).

"Happiness isn't happiness if it doesn't satisfy you," you said to me, remember?At that time, I didn't know how to answer well. —No, Jerome, happiness cannot satisfy us.Jerome, it shouldn't satisfy us either.This joyful satisfaction, I can't think of as real.Didn't we already understand when we met in the autumn how much pain this contentment concealed? ... It really exists!instigate!God forbid that is not the case!We were born for another kind of happiness... Our past correspondence has ruined our autumn meeting, in the same way that recalling how you were with me yesterday has taken away the charm of my letter today.Where is the intoxication with which I used to write to you?We have exhausted, by letters, by seeing each other, all the simplest pleasures that our love can hope for.Now I can't help shouting like Orsino: "That's enough! Don't play any more! It doesn't sound as sweet as before." Farewell, my friend. "Start loving God from now on".well!Can you understand how much I love you? ...for the rest of my life I will be yours ① The original text is Latin. alyssa 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 hang; that it lifts me above myself, but without you I would sink back to the very commonplace of my most common nature.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: But, my friend, holiness is not a choice, it is a calling (in her letter, the word is emphasized by three underlines) If you are the kind of person I thought you were, then you can't escape either Such a vocation. 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: my friend: Never think that I am determined not to write to you anymore, I am simply not interested in letters.Still, a few of your letters still amuse me, but I am more and more self-blaming for having such a large place in your thoughts. Summer is coming.We will not write letters during this period. In the second half of September, you can come to Gesmar and spend it by my side.Do you agree?If you agree, there is no need to reply.I take your silence as tacit consent, and I hope you don't write back to me. 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 completely calm and convinced. 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?For I have not been able to feel a loving heart still throbbing through the most false appearance, and I have not yet found in myself what I can forgive myself, and at first I only saw this appearance and did not recognize it. My girlfriend, I blame her... No, Alyssa, even then, I don't blame you!Just crying in despair because I didn't recognize you.Now looking at your silent cunning 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?She greeted me with a smile, more attentiveness and concern than ever before: on the first day, I was almost mesmerized... She changed her hairstyle and combed her hair flat back to frame her face Very straight, with a different expression; likewise, she wore a dull, coarse bodice, which did not fit very well, and spoiled the charm of her figure.... But what did it matter, after all?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, I walked into the living room and found that the piano was missing from its original position. 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, boy," said the uncle, rather severely reproachfully. "You've been using it until now, isn't it good to play it? It won't be too late to send it for repairs after Jerome is gone. Why be in such a hurry and deprive us of a great deal of fun..." "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 and so on... Her mind was completely absorbed in the work, her lips lost all 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, here I am; but this sort of mending requires great concentration." "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: a word from her 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 bed-drapes, the shining mahogany furniture, everything neat, clean, and quiet, spoke to my heart of her pure and contemplative beauty. That morning when I walked into the room, I found that the two large photographs of Masaccio’s paintings I had brought back from Italy had disappeared from the wall beside her bed. Falling down to the shelf next to her favorite books, I found that half of the books I gave and half of the books we read together slowly accumulated in the small library. Religious pamphlets that would snort.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 mean, a wise man who is used to fine books will find it unappetizing to read such dull things." "I don't understand what you're saying," she said. "These are simple souls, chatting casually with me, trying to be as clear as possible, and I enjoy dealing with them. I know in advance that neither of us will give in: they will never fall for the trap of beautiful words, and I read them and never appreciate low taste." "Is that all you see?" "Almost. It's 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 want to read again the books of the great writers you taught me to appreciate. I feel like the kind of person mentioned in the Bible, trying to elevate my height." "What great author are you reading that ends 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 very good..." ① Pascal (1623-1663), French scientist, philosopher, essayist, author of "Collection of Thoughts". 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 people, and how much effort it took to prove something. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if his impassioned tone comes from doubt rather than faith. There are not so many perfect beliefs 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." "Not skepticism, but Jansenism," Alyssa said with a smile. "What was the use of them?" She turned to look at the books, and went on: "These poor people can't tell whether they belong to the Jansen sect, the Quiet sect, or some other sect. They prostrate themselves." In front of God, they are like grass blown down by the wind. They are very pure, and their mood is neither flustered nor beautiful. They think they are very small, and they know that only by disappearing before God can they show a little value." ① Ransen Sect: A new Catholic sect, which was very influential in France in the 17th century and was later suppressed. ②The Quiet sect believes in mysticism, and believers can bypass the church and talk directly 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 that saves his own life perishes.' As for the rest," she continued, smiling more clearly, and looking at me intently, "actually, I hardly understand it. .It's really weird after getting along with the little people for a while, and soon I can't bear 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 would have said a few more words, and wept: perhaps my tears would have overcome her; but I stood there with my elbows on the hearth, my forehead in my hands, and could not say a word. come out.Alyssa continued to arrange the flowers quietly, not seeing my pain at all; or pretending not to see... At this moment, the first bell for lunch rang. "I can't make it to lunch anyway," she said. "You go." As if this was purely 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.There was so little time left for me, and I saw her always so busy; but perhaps I felt the least of my frustrations by going through these trivialities, and giving up on chasing her.But a very short conversation can give me more warnings.Sometimes Alyssa gave me a moment, but really it was just to have 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 felt to see some kind of challenge, at least some kind of sarcasm, that she took pleasure in avoiding my desires in this way... But then I turned to blame myself entirely, Because I don't want to blame anyone at will, I don't know what to expect from her, and I don't know what to blame her. 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 peat stone 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 spoke: "Jerome, why don't you just admit that you don't love me that much?" "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 beneath my feet gives way; so I hold on to 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 exists 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; and she murmured in a baffled voice: "No, no, that hasn't 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, saying that I am old myself, just like her; our age difference is still so much... 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 myself, with a vague hatred for what I still called "virtue," and with resentment for something I had never been able to let go of.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!Faced with such a terrible situation, my heart is terribly cold; 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, to a mediocre level, and I myself did the same, but on this level, there was no desire to love her.snort!How absurd and vain it seemed to me now that my own power alone had elevated her, and that I had to strive for virtue to meet her!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 or interest, but because I was happy at the thought of leaving, as if I would get rid of it as soon as I left. ①The college established by France in Athens, Greece, to send higher normal students to further study.