按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
me my slippers。〃
〃He ought to have them by this time； Monsieur；〃 replied Therese； 〃but
I never saw them。 The very first fine day of spring the mother disappeared
with the child； leaving furniture and clothes and everything behind her。
They found thirty…eight empty pomade…pots in the attic。 It passes all belief！
She had visitors latterly； and you may be quite sure she is not now in a
convent of nuns。 The niece of the concierge says she saw her driving about
in a carriage on the boulevards。 I always told you she would end badly。〃
〃Therese；〃 I replied； 〃that young woman has not ended either badly or
17
… Page 18…
The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
well as yet。 Wait until the term of her life is over before you judge her。
And be careful not to talk too much with that concierge。 It seemed to me
though I only saw her for a moment on the stairs that Madame Coccoz
was very fond of her child。 For that mother's love at least； she deserves
credit。〃
〃As far as that goes； Monsieur； certainly the little one never wanted for
anything。 In all the Quarter one could not have found a child better kept；
or better nourished； or more petted and coddled。 Every day that God
makes she puts a clean bib on him； and sings to him to make him laugh
from morning till night。〃
〃Therese； a poet has said； 'That child whose mother has never smiled
upon him is worthy neither of the table of the gods nor of the couch of the
goddesses。'〃
July 8； 1852。
Having been informed that the Chapel of the Virgin at Saint…
Germain… des…Pres was being repaved； I entered the church with the hope
of discovering some old inscriptions； possibly exposed by the labours of
the workmen。 I was not disappointed。 The architect kindly showed me a
stone which he had just had raised up against the wall。 I knelt down to
look at the inscription engraved upon that stone； and then； half aloud； I
read in the shadow of the old apsis these words； which made my heart
leap：
〃Cy…gist Alexandre； moyne de ceste eglise； qui fist mettre en argent le
menton de Saint…Vincent et de Saint…Amant et le pie des Innocens； qui
toujours en son vivant fut preud'homme et vayllant。 Priez pour l'ame de
lui。〃
I wiped gently away with my handkerchief the dust covering that
gravestone； I could have kissed it。
〃It is he！ it is Alexander！〃 I cried out； and from the height of the vaults
the name fell back upon me with a clang； as if broken。
The silent severity of the beadle； whom I saw advancing towards me；
made me ashamed of my enthusiasm； and I fled between the two holy
water sprinklers with which tow rival 〃rats d'eglise〃 seemed desirous of
18
… Page 19…
The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
barring my way。
At all events it was certainly my own Alexander！ there could be no
more doubt possible； the translator of the 〃Golden Legend；〃 the author of
the saints lives of Saints Germain； Vincent； Ferreol； Ferrution； and
Droctoveus was； just as I had supposed； a monk of Saint…Germain…des…
Pres。 And what a monk； toopious and generous！ He had a silver chin； a
silver head； and a silver foot made； that certain precious remains should be
covered with an incorruptible envelope！ But shall I never be able to view
his handiwork？ or is this new discovery only destined to increase my
regrets？
August 20； 1859。
〃I； that please some； try all； both joy and terror Of good and bad； that
make and unfold error Now take upon me； in the name of Time To use
my wings。 Impute it not a crime To me or my swift passage； that I slide
O'er years。〃
Who speaks thus？ 'Tis an old man whom I know too well。 It is Time。
Shakespeare； after having terminated the third act of the 〃Winter's
Tale；〃 pauses in order to leave time for little Perdita to grow up in wisdom
and in beauty； and when he raises the curtain again he evokes the ancient
Scythe…bearer upon the stage to render account to the audience of those
many long days which have weighted down upon the head of the jealous
Leontes。
Like Shakespeare in his play； I have left in this diary of mine a long
interval to oblivion； and after the fashion of the poet； I make Time himself
intervene to explain the omission of ten whole years。 Ten whole years；
indeed； have passed since I wrote one single line in this diary； and now
that I take up the pen again； I have not the pleasure； alas！ to describe a
Perdita 〃now grown in grace。〃 Youth and beauty are the faithful
companions of poets； but those charming phantoms scarcely visit the rest
of us； even for the space of a season。 We do not know how to retain them
with us。 If the fair shade of some Perdita should ever； through some
inconceivable whim； take a notion to traverse my brain； she would hurt
herself horribly against heaps of dog…eared parchments。 Happy the poets！
19
… Page 20…
The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
their white hairs never scare away the hovering shades of Helens；
Francescas； Juliets； Julias； and Dorotheas！ But the nose alone of Sylvestre
Bonnard would put to flight the whole swarm of love's heroines。
Yet I； like others； have felt beauty； I have known that mysterious
charm which Nature has lent to animate form； and the clay which lives has
given to me that shudder of delight which makes the lover and the poet。
But I have never known either how to love or how to sing。 Now in my
memoryall encumbered as it is with the rubbish of old textsI can
discern again； like a miniature forgotten in some attic； a certain bright
young face； with violet eyes。。。。 Why； Bonnard； my friend； what an old fool
you are becoming！ Read that catalogue which a Florentine bookseller sent
you this very morning。 It is a catalogue of Manuscripts； and he promises
you a description of several famous ones； long preserved by the collectors
of Italy and Sicily。 There is something better suited to you； something
more in keeping with your present appearance。
I read； I cry out！ Hamilcar； who has assumed with the approach of age
an air of gravity that intimi