Chapter 37 no return day

I have had the pleasure of acquainting many old but still pretty duchesses; however, they were mostly destitute ladies with only a little black maid at their side, living in Tuscany (The central region of Italy is known for its long cultural and artistic traditions, and its capital is Florence.) In a decadent villa; the fence made of a fence, two dusty fir trees guarding the fence wall like sentinels, cover the The whole villa. If you meet them in the salon of some widowed countess, you can call them "noble madams" inappropriately, and in that international, classical, lifeless French— Marmontel (jean francois marmontel (jean francois marmontel, 1723-1799), French Enlightenmentist, writer, editor of "Encyclopedia".) The Abbot's "Moral Proverbs" is enough to help you understand The language of the upper classes—talk to them.My duchesses are almost always willing to answer you politely and garrulously.When you have penetrated into their poor hearts - narrow, closed with dust and details, like the hearts of seventeenth-century orators - you will find that life is still worth lingering, and our mothers are not. Foolish, sure, when we come out of the womb we think our mother has done something stupid.

How many unearthly secrets have those aged and good-looking duchesses whispered to me!They were very fond of powder, and perhaps even more fond of gossip, for they were all Germans—only one, by accident, was a Russian—and they spoke such beautiful old French that sometimes aroused My turbulent and torrenting emotional waves; at this time, my heart was beating wildly, and frankly, I was just like an infatuated lover, and I had an irresistible desire. One afternoon, before night fell, in the living room of a Tuscan villa, I was sitting on an old-fashioned sofa from the Empire era, with a cup of tea handed to me by a servant on the coffee table next to me.I was in the silent company of the oldest, most beautiful and gentle of my duchesses.

She was dressed in black, with a black veil covering her face, and the slightly curly white hair that I was familiar with was hidden in a crimson black hat.I felt in a trance that a circle of black light shrouded her surroundings.This satisfies me.I tried to convince myself that the woman was only an image of what I wanted.It is not difficult to believe this.The whole room was almost immersed in sombre darkness, except for the faint light of a single candle that illuminated her powdered face; everything was swallowed up by darkness, so that I felt that there was only It was a head suspended in the air, a face about one meter above the ground, detached from the body.

But at last the Duchess opened up, and any illusions I had were naturally out of the question. "Well, listen to me, sir," she related to me, "that this happened forty years ago, when I was in the prime of my youth, and therefore quite innocent." In that thin voice, she continued to tell me a history of her rich romantic experience: a French general who fell under her pomegranate skirt, influenced by her love, became an excellent actor in one fell swoop; One night, he was unfortunately killed by a drunk. However, I already knew all about her affairs of this sort; and I told her frankly that I would have liked to hear a story more twisted, remote, and unbelievable than this.The Duchess was very generous and readily expressed her willingness to fully comply with my request.

"It seems that you are going to force me to reveal the last secret I keep," she said, "and it will remain a secret forever because it is the most incredible of all romantic events that I have ever experienced." ...but I know that in a few months' time, perhaps before spring comes, I will die, and that I may never find another man who takes the absurd with such interest as you... … "This secret happened when I was twenty-two years old. At that time, I was the most beautiful Duchess of Vienna, and I had not killed my first husband-it happened later, Two years later, when I fell in love... But you already know the affair so well that I won't talk about it!

"It happened towards the end of my twenty-two year, when an elderly, beardless, medal-winning old man came to visit me. I received him. He asked to speak to me privately for two minutes. When we were alone, he said to me: "'I have a dear daughter who is now very ill. I must give her life and strength, so I am running about, buying or borrowing, seeking the age of youth. If you will be generous , lend me a year of youth, and I will return it to you gradually, day by day, before the end of your life. For example, when you are twenty-two years old, you are not twenty-three years old, Instead, skip a year and go straight to twenty-four. You are still in your prime, and you will not notice the effects of this age jump. Five days, two days or three days at a time, all returned to you until the last day. In this way, when you grow old, you can experience regaining your true youth according to your wishes, and suddenly enjoy The happiness of lost health and beauty.

"'Please don't think you're talking to a liar or a devil. I'm an ordinary unhappy father, and I've prayed a long time to God, who mercifully allows me to do what no one else can What I did. I took a lot of trouble and managed to borrow three years, but I need many more years. Please lend me your youth for a year, and you will never be deprived of this generosity. regret!' "Before then, I was used to all sorts of outlandish adventures. In the upper class society I lived in, nothing was considered impossible. So I readily agreed to his special request. . "A few days later, I was a year older than normal, but almost no one noticed it. Until I was forty, I lived very happily and didn't need to claim back my savings. Yes, a year that should be returned to me someday.

"The old man left me a contract with his address. He told me that if I wanted a day or a week of youth, I had to give him at least one month's notice. He made me a promise With my promise, I will get the youth I want on the day I want. "After the age of forty, my beauty gradually faded, and I retired to the one of the few castles left by my family to live in seclusion, and only went to Vienna two or three times a year. I wrote in advance to my debtor , and then, young and handsome, I seemed to be only twenty-three years old, I went to court balls and visited the salons of the capital, to the astonishment of those who knew that my beauty was fading.

"How exciting is the eve of the reappearance of youth! The night before, like a withered flower, I fell asleep as tired as usual. The next morning, when I woke up, I felt like a bird that had just learned to fly , running to the full-length mirror with ease and joy, every wrinkle on my face has disappeared, my body is light, nimble, soft and plump, my hair is all shining golden yellow again, and my lips are so beautiful and rosy that I I can't wait to kiss it like crazy. "At Vienna, admirers surrounded me, exclaimed in astonishment, and accused me of playing magic. In short, they understood nothing. When the period of youth returned to me was drawing to a close, I climbed into the carriage, Hastily returned to the castle; there I declined all visitors.

"Once a young count from Bohemia, who met me and fell in love with me on one of my visits to a social event in Vienna, suddenly broke into the When he saw me so much like the woman he fell in love with on the Viennese street, but also so ugly and old, he was so shocked that he almost fainted. "Since then, no one has been able to intrude into the secluded life I have chosen so willingly. In the melancholy years when the flower of my life was withering, only the strange excitement stirred up by occasional reappearances of youth Joy and deep sorrow are enough to suspend this almost unearthly life. You can imagine my long, lonely, isolated life, often because of a few days of beauty and beauty. A marvelous spectacle of passion suddenly bursting into flames?

"At the beginning, I thought that the three hundred and sixty-five days were inexhaustible and inexhaustible. I just felt that they would never end. Therefore, I squandered too much and often gave that mysterious life Debts write letters. He is, however, an amazing man of his word. I went up to him once and saw a pile of his bills. I found out that I wasn't the only one who had a contract of this kind with him. Man, it can be seen that he keeps a very accurate record of his ongoing debts. I also saw her daughter, a very pale woman, sitting on the flowered balcony. "I do not know at all where he got the years and months of his life that would enable him to pay his debts in installments of days with such exactness, but I have some reason to believe that he has accrued new debts for it. From which women did he borrow his days to repay me? How I would have loved to know one of them, but, though I have always been good at asking questions cunningly, I have never had the honor of uncovering the secret. But, very Maybe, they are not the kind of strangers I imagined... "All in all, the old man was an extraordinarily interesting character, and he carried out his plans extremely well. You can hardly imagine when he announced to me, with the coolness of a banker, that now he owes I had but eleven days to live, and how miserable and dreadful my life suddenly became. I had not written him a letter for a whole year, and once it occurred to me that I would Save the eleven days as a gift to him, so that I don't have to torture myself. Of course you can understand why, can't you? Every time, when youth is fleeting, the moment of sanity wakes me up more and more, because As the years go by, the distance between my current situation and my twenty-three years old is getting bigger and bigger. "On the other hand, I couldn't resist its allure. You can imagine how a poor lonely old woman can refuse beauty, love and joy for even a day or two or three? She needs to be She needs to be loved, even if only for a day; she needs to be pursued, even if only for an hour; she needs happiness, even if only for a moment! "However, my days of credit to the old man are running out, and the debt is about to be ended forever. Please consider that only one day of my youth is left at my disposal! When that day is gone, I will Finally a dying old woman, sitting helplessly waiting for the call of death. One bright day, then eternal darkness! I beg you to put yourself in my shoes and think of this unforeseen tragedy in my life. In asking for the return of this a day ago... "But when shall I ask for this day to be returned? What shall I do with it? For more than three years I have not regained my youth, and perhaps no one in Vienna remembers me anymore, my My beauty seems to have vanished into a ghostly phantom. Still, I feel the need of a lover, one who loves me with fire and passion. My whole body needs to be caressed again. My wrinkled face will Again revealing the rosiness of youth, my lips shall give one last intoxicating joy. My poor chapped and bloodless lips! How they yearn to be red and hot some day, if only for a day, for the last One lover, one last kiss! "But I don't know how to make my choice. I don't have the courage to spend the last day of my real life, the meager fortune that is left to me; and I don't know how to spend it. But I have a mad desire to squander it all..." This lovely Duchess moved my pity so deeply!She had been lifting the black veil for several minutes, and tears had plowed two thin furrows into her powdered face.At this time, she forcibly suppressed sobbing with the reserved attitude of a noble lady, making it impossible for her to continue her narration. So I couldn't help feeling a strong desire to comfort this elegant old woman at all costs.I knelt at her feet, at the feet of a wrinkled duchess in black.I told her that I would love her far more than any mad gentleman; I begged in the sweetest words that she would allow me only to enjoy the last day of her wonderful youth alone. I can't recall exactly what I said to her, but my words must have moved her, for she promised me, in lines similar to those used by actors on the stage, that I would be her last Lover, but there is only one day's fate, and it will be a month later.We agreed to meet at this villa one day, and I kissed her thin, pale hand with great excitement, and we left. In the evening, I return to the city.A silver crescent moon shines high in the sky, staring at me stubbornly as if ironically and pitifully.But the haunting image of the Duchess in my mind only confirmed the seriousness with which I took the matter. That month seemed unusually long, perhaps the slowest month in my life.I promise my future lover that before the appointed day, I will restrain myself and never see her again.I have faithfully kept my word. The day I've been waiting for has finally come, and it's really the longest day of the longest month.Night finally fell.Dressed as best I could, I walked towards the villa with a hesitant step, with a heart agitated and restless. From a distance, I saw bright lights shining on the windows of the villa, which was never seen before.When I approached the villa, I found that the fence gate was open, and the huge flowers on the balcony were blooming very beautifully.I walked into the villa and came to the living room, where bright candles were burning on two strange candlesticks in the hall. The servant told me to wait a moment.I wait.No one came out.The whole villa was silent.The swaying candlelight is flickering, and the flowers spit out wisps of fragrance, lingering in the silent air.I waited restlessly for about an hour; I could bear it no longer, and went into the dining-room. There were two sets of tableware, a few clusters of flowers, and an abundance of fruit on the table.I went into a small living room.The lights were shining softly, but there was no one there.I finally stopped in front of a door, which I knew was the Duchess' bedroom.I knocked twice or three times on the door, but there was no answer.I thought that a lover can act without regard for etiquette, so I mustered up my courage, pushed open the door, and stopped on the threshold. The room seemed to have experienced a catastrophe, with luxurious clothes thrown around randomly.Four candelabrums surround a candelabrum that casts a bright light.The Duchess, in one of the prettiest dresses I have ever seen, sat face up in an easy chair facing the looking-glass. I called her softly, but she didn't answer. I went up and touched her lightly with my hand, but she didn't respond.Only then did I realize that her face was as thin and pale as I used to see, but the expression on her face was more sad than usual, as if she was frightened.I put my fingers on her lips, but I didn't feel the breath at all, and I pressed my hand on her chest, but I couldn't feel the beating of her heart at all. The poor Duchess is dead.She sat in front of the full-length mirror, happily looking forward to the return of youth, and died suddenly and happily. I picked up a letter on the floor near her easy chair.This letter revealed to me the secret of her sudden departure from the world. There are only a few lines in the letter, neatly written, as if written by a soldier, and the content is as follows: Dear Duchess: Please forgive me for not being able to immediately return the last day of youth I owed to you, for which I feel really guilty. I have not been able to find a reasonable woman who would trust me in my incredible promises; and my daughter is dying. I will spare no effort to continue looking for a suitable partner, and I will report to you as soon as I get the result, because it is my sincere wish to let you enjoy the joy of youth in the last day from beginning to end. Dear Duchess, please believe me... your most faithful... The signature at the end of the letter is illegible.