Next day, Rose was with me early in the morning:
"I could not sleep," she said. "I wanted to speak to you without tears or blushes. If I have done wrong, I have atoned1 for it; and it is done with. All that remained of it was a sad memory; and, now that I have considered it with you, even that is gone."
I look at her. Her appearance pleases me. Her step is firm, her cheeks are pale, her eyes burning; she is living more ardently2 than usual. She continues, with animation3:
"You said to me once that people who believe in another life seem to sweep their sins and their remorse4 up to the doors of eternity5. For us, you said, who have not that illusion, everything is different: we do not put off paying the bill for our sins. We can recognise their consequences; and that
is our expiation6." And you added, proudly, "It is cowardly to look to another for it, even if that other were God!"
We are walking in the orchard7. The long grass is bending under the weight of the dew, which has decked it with a thousand glittering jewels. As we pass by a tree laden8 with apples, Rose pulls a branch to her and, without plucking the fruit, bites into it. I watch the lips part and the white teeth meet and disappear in the juicy pulp9. For a second, the soft red mouth rounds over the fruit, which seems to match its beauty and to be questioning Rose about her pitiful love-affairs.
"Then, Rose dear, you were not really happy for a moment with your lover?"
"No."
"But he was young, I suppose, and more or less good-looking?"
She thinks for a moment and then bends her head.
"You remember it, Rose?"
The girl appears astonished and answers, hesitatingly:
"It is five years ago, I don't remember now...."
I was surprised in my turn and looked at her. What! She didn't remember! She had forgotten
that! Her lips had not retained the impress of the first kiss!
My eyes closed and from the background of my life a bygone moment rose, one of those memories that linger in the hearts of women with such fidelity10 and vividness that they lack not a scent11, a sound, a line, a word, a look, a gesture!
I was twelve years old and he fifteen. It was at the seaside. Our parents were talking a few steps away, but night was falling and a fisherman's hut hid us from their eyes. He bent12 over to me and our lips met in a simple kiss, simple as a flower with petals13 still unopened, for we were both of us innocent....
I can still see the colour and the shape of the drifting clouds. I can smell the mingled14 breath of the sea and of his boyish mouth. I can remember how I felt as a frightened, trembling and enraptured15 little girl.... A sailor was singing some way off; and the gulls17 that circled between sea and sky seemed to be keeping the last rays of daylight upon their white wings.
Why, I know that boy's mouth by heart and shall always know it! We often kissed again, without even dreaming that, at this game as at all games, there
might be room for progress!... And then ... and then ... that's all I remember of him.... The next is another memory, at another place and another age.... And then another again....
2
Would one not think that, in the more or less happy lives of us women, in our more or less easily traversed roads, the sensations of love are so many illuminated18 floral arches that mark the different stages of our accomplishment19? We go up to them, we pass through them with hopes, smiles or sighs. But, whatever they may be, we come out of them fairer and better. What should we be without that, without love? The love which is rebuked20, which we are supposed to hide and blush for! The love that entreats21 both our strength and our weakness, our patience and our fervour, our passion and our reason! The love that sets in motion our highest faculties22 and our lowest instincts, that makes each of us know her own power and her own poverty by the part which she allows it to play in her life!
In that moment, I saw and lived my joys in the kisses of childhood and girlhood. I travelled my
road again; and the arches of light seemed higher to me and they followed hard on one another, becoming ever more radiant and decked with gayer flowers, until this very hour when the desired happiness has been found, established and kept fast....
3
My thoughts return to Rose, who has sat down under a tree; and I stretch myself beside her.
A herd23 of cows suddenly enters the orchard. White and brown, they plunge24 among the apple-trees; driven by a child, who is taking them down to the long grass, they amble25 heavily along in meek26-eyed resignation. A smell of cow-shed at once reaches our nostrils27; and, in the silence, we hear a noise of busy munching28....
"Darling, you, who have always lived in the midst of nature, should have sounder and more accurate ideas on love than those of other women, while mine are a little warped29 by my over-cultivated nerves and feelings. If, for instance, you had said to me, yesterday, 'I gave myself because it was natural,' you would have dominated my poor reason from the pinnacle30 of an essential truth."
Without quite understanding what I say, Rose smiles in answer to my smile and we remain silent; our eyes gaze without seeing and our idle hands trail in the wet grass. We hear, without listening, the hoarse32, fat, cooing-voluptuous voices of the doves: in the cool air of the morning, among the leaves, the flowers and the branches, it is an undercurrent of joy rising and falling, suspended for a moment and then beginning again, in unwearying repetition.
Rose murmurs33:
"Why are you always saying that I cannot make progress without love? It makes me unhappy when you say that. I should have liked to have nothing in the world but your affection. You kissed me so tenderly last night, over the hedge."
"It is not the same thing, Rose darling. Certainly, there is nothing more harmonious35 and purer than the kiss that joins the lips of two friends like ourselves. But it is not the same thing as the kiss of love, for the value of that lies not only in what it is, but in what it promises; and it is a delight that sometimes echoes through our whole lives.... You will have to love before you understand."
The girl folded her arms around my waist as though to bind36 herself to me:
"But how would you have me love any one but yourself?" she asked. "Have you not given me happiness? When I am with you, I seem to be living in a fairy-tale."
Despite the pleasure which her words gave me, I made an effort to combat them.
The character of a woman who tries to be just is full of these little contradictions. In proportion as her heart is satisfied, she finds her intellect becoming clearer and stronger; and what calls for her judgment37 rarely leaves her heart unmoved. If Rose had not protested, I should still have spoken, from a sense of duty, but my words would have been without warmth or conviction. Now it seemed to me that her charming compliment gave added force to what I was about to utter in the interest of another's happiness.
She leant her face against my breast and my fingers played with her sunny hair, her unbound hair, which was now waving joyously38, crowning her with a shimmer39 of amber40 and gold.
"No," I replied, "you must fall in love in order to develop and expand. Our women's lives are like
summer days: wisdom tells us to follow their evolution. After the morning's waiting, we want the noon-day splendour and rapture16. As you never had that rapture, you have not yet known love: and, at your age, is not that an absurd and miserable41 ignorance? Is it not right to wish for love and even to force its coming? Those who go on waiting for it in meek resignation appear to me so guilty!... Life has always seemed to me to be divided into two parts: the search for love; and love. As long as we are not in love, let us continue the search for it; let us seek stubbornly, madly, cruelly, if need be; let us be untiring and unrelenting. There are no obstacles for the woman with a resolute42 will. Let each of us follow that quest in her own manner, according to her strength, her means and her courage, through every danger and every pain. When we have at last found love, or rather our love, let us go towards it without fear, without false modesty43; and, if we are loved, let us not wait to be entreated44 for what we can offer generously. Let us never be pilfered45 of that which it is our privilege to give!"
A tendril drops from the creeper above us and caresses46 our faces....
How delightful47 life is at this moment! The air is filled with rejoicing, with the murmur34 of an infinite happiness! A tremulous haze48 hovers49 over the fields, the insatiate doves reiterate50 their glad refrain. Around us, here and there, a slender blade of grass shakes beneath the light weight of a butterfly. But is not everything lovely in the eyes of a woman who is talking of love? It is as though happiness were the harbinger of her glance, flying ahead and settling upon things.
Rose, all attention and curiosity, now questioned me:
"But you, what did you do?"
"In my case," I said, "when I knew that he loved me too, I went to his country to find him. I can still see us walking in a meadow all bright with flowers. On the horizon, the blue sky met the sea; and, behind us, the red roofs, the church-steeples and the tiny white houses of a Dutch village slowly vanished from sight. He gave me his arm; and it was a joy to me to let him feel the gladness in my heart by the motion of my hip51, on which he leant slightly. Then he said, 'You walk like a queen for whom her subjects wait.' And I knew from his words that he was still waiting for me, though I was by his side,
and they suddenly told me what a blissful kingdom I had to offer him!"
"Did you seek long before that day came?"
"No, once I was free, I found happiness after a few months of trouble and difficulty; but you see, dear, I would have gone to the other end of the world to meet my love! I had no need to journey so far; and this makes me inclined to think that, in our search, we need to be attentive52 even more than active!"
Roseline murmured, pensively53:
"The men say that a certain amount of preliminary experience in love is indispensable ... to them."
My whole soul revolted. Releasing myself from the girl's embrace, I sprang to my feet and faced her:
"But, Rose, isn't it the same with us? And is it right to expect that a woman should rivet54 her whole existence to the first smile, to the first look, the first word that moves her? Sensible people tell us that marriage is a lottery55! By what aberration56 of the intellect do they come to admit that a being's whole life should be voluntarily subjected to chance? Not one of us would consent to such a degradation57, if
women in general were not absolutely ignorant! And that is why many, too clear-sighted to submit to a ridiculous law and lacking the courage to infringe58 it, die without having known the flavour and the goodness of life. Oh, what injustice59! Is youth not short enough as it is? Is the circle in which our poor intelligence moves not sufficiently60 limited? And is it necessary, in addition, to chain us to phantom61 principles, which falsify nature, disfigure goodness and vilify62 the miracle of the kiss and the innocence63 of the flesh?"
I was standing31 against a tree, a few steps away from Rose; and my hand plucked nervously64 at the leaves within my reach. The blue sky seemed hypocritical to my eyes, the beauty of the flowers crafty65 and mocking. I continued, in a tone of conviction:
"It is right that woman should make her own experiments, it is right that she should know men to judge which of them harmonises with her.... It is by constantly encountering alien souls that she will form an idea of what her twin soul should be. Yes, I know that a natural law rejects this morality; and that is why I do not think the woman should give herself until she is quite certain of her
choice. It is true that her experiments will be incomplete; the senses will have played but a small part in them, or none at all; but must we not accommodate ourselves to the inevitable66? In any case, that woman will indeed be enlightened who, regardless of public opinion, lives freely in the man's company, studying him, observing him and sometimes even loving him!"
Rose listened to me without a word or a movement; only, every now and then, her long, dark lashes67, tipped with gold, would flicker68 for a moment and then droop69 discreetly70 on her cool, fresh cheeks. But the thought of her own frailty71 suggested an objection; and she asked:
"Don't you think that what you propose is difficult for the woman?"
"Oh, yes, difficult and, to many of us, impossible! Through a want of pride, through love or pity, they resign themselves to an act of which their reason does not approve and they wake up unhappy, sometimes for ever.... It is difficult, for the woman who resists appears to the man a sort of monster, abominable73 and detestable. Ah, there must be no desertion before possession! Because we have given him our lips, we must make him a present of
our lives! Because we have consented to certain pleasures, we must, so that he may enjoy a greater, sacrifice our future to him!... In fact, he goes farther and says that woman, when she indulges in those experiments, is following the dictates74 of a loathsome75 and mean self-interest. Self-interest, when this conduct entails76 endless dangers and bitterness! Self-interest, when it demands of us, before all, an absolute contempt of a world to which nearly all are slaves, when it exposes us to insults and suffering and increases the number of our enemies and multiplies the obstacles in our path!... No, that woman is not selfish who, in all good faith, plunges77 boldly into the adventure at the risk of ruining herself, comes near to a man, thinking that she has found what she is seeking and hoping that love may result. She feels the promptings of her senses and does not resist her heart, but her reason is awake! She will not give herself unless everything that she learns confirms her expectations; she will give herself if she really believes that the happiness of both depends upon it; and the combat that is waged enables her to judge clearly of the quality of their love. She is judge and combatant in one. She lets herself be carried along so that she may have
fuller knowledge; and it is not without pain, it is not without love that, at the eleventh hour, she will, if need be, refuse herself."
Rose here interrupted me:
"If she loves, if she suffers, why does she refuse herself?"
"There are a thousand degrees in love; and a woman of feeling always suffers when she inflicts79 suffering."
I examined my mind for a moment and, as though it were uttering its thoughts backwards80, I continued, slowly:
"It is sometimes our duty to inflict78 suffering. The man's instinct is always more or less blinded by desire; he always, either craftily81 or brutally82, proposes. It is for us to dispose. We are all-powerful. Peace or discord83 springs from our will. He is not as well fitted to choose as we are, because he has not the same reasons for wishing to see comradeship follow upon passion, to see rapture give way to security. If we are one day to be the mother of the child, are we not first of all the mother of love? Are we not at the same time the cradle and the tabernacle of that god? In any happy couple, is love not cast in the woman's image much more than in
the man's? The man has a thousand things that attract and retain him elsewhere; his temperament84 is more prodigal85 and less considerate than ours. It is in the woman that love dwells; her sensitive nature leads her to a higher knowledge in the art of loving; and the infinite details of her tenderness can make her seem perfect in her lover's eyes when they do not render her exclusive...."
Struck by this last word, Rose exclaimed:
"What! According to you, love should not be exclusive!" And, lowering her voice, she asked, "Are you not faithful?"
"We do not even think of being faithful as long as we love. We should blush to offer love the cold homage86 of fidelity: it is a word devoid87 of meaning in the presence of a genuine love. In love fidelity is like a chain disappearing under the flowers. If it is one day seen, that means that the flowers are faded."
I kneel beside her and, taking her in my arms, kiss her fondly. Through the exquisite88 silence of the day, the church-bell rings out the Angelus in notes of gold. The garden is flooded with sunshine; and the marigolds, the phlox, the jasmines, the scabious and the mallows push their heads above
their white railing. Each eager heart turns towards the light.
"You see, my Roseline: just as the great sun shines in his glory and governs the realm of flowers, so love must be king in the lives of us women! He reigns89 and is independent of any but himself. Only," I added, laughing, "though we accept him as king, we must not make a tyrant90 of him. Poor love! I wonder what wretched transformation91 he must have undergone through the ages for us to have managed to invest him with the most selfish of human sentiments, the sense of property! So far from that, we ought mutually to respect the life that goes with ours and never seek to restrain it."
There is a pause; and Rose, with her face pressed to my cheek, almost whispers:
"You are not jealous?"
I felt myself flushing and would have liked not to answer. But, alas92, would she not by degrees have discovered all the pettiness that is ill-concealed under my thin veneer93 of self-control and determination? I tried to reveal it all in one sentence:
"Know this, Rose, that it is in myself and in myself alone that I study the women that I would not be!"
4
I watch my great girl while she talks. This rustic94 beauty, in her cotton bodice, her blue print skirt and her wooden shoes, no longer shouts. She expresses herself better and does not gesticulate so violently. She is quieter in her movements and her shyness is not unattractive. Rays of light filter through the branches and cast shifting patches of light on her face and figure. I always love to observe the details of her beauty, but to-day my heart contracts for a moment as my eyes follow the curve of her chin, which is charming, but devoid of all firmness, and her whole profile, which is beautiful, but lacking in decision....
Will Rose be one of those who accomplish themselves by means of love, who exalt95 themselves by exalting96 it, who master and improve themselves the better to control it?
Love is the great test by which our values are reckoned and weighed. The fond vagaries97 of the body have taught the proud soul its limits; and reason has wilted98 under a kiss like a flower under the scorching99 sun. Every woman has known the exquisite luxury of forgetting herself, of losing herself
so utterly100 that no other thing at the moment appears to her worth living for. She has heard the voice of the charmer exhorting101 her to abandon pride, ambition, her own personality, to become, in short, no more than an atom of happiness under a dark and splendid sky which each moment of felicity seems to adorn102 with a new star.
Where the weak woman goes under, her stronger sister is never lost. The lower she may have fallen, the higher she raises herself. She returns from each of her strayings more fit for life. She is more resisting, for she has known how to sway and bend without breaking; more indulgent, because she has seen herself encompassed103 with weakness and beset104 with longings105. She knows how frail72 is the spring that regulates her strength, but also how necessary that strength is to her happiness. She has come to understand what real love means, that the union of man and woman approaches the nearer to perfection the less the two wills are fused. She has understood, above all, that, to contain, glorify106 and keep love, we need all the energy of our respective personalities107 and all the benefit of our dissimilarity!
Rose was silent.
I lay on the grass, with my arms outstretched and my eyes fixed108 on the sky; and the breeze sent my hair playing over my lips. For a long while afterwards, my thoughts continued to wander amid the fairest things in the world.
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1
atoned
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| v.补偿，赎（罪）( atone的过去式和过去分词 )；补偿，弥补，赎回 | |
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2
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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4
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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5
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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6
expiation
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| n.赎罪，补偿 | |
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7
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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8
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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pulp
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| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
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10
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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11
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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12
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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13
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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14
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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15
enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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rebuked
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entreats
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的第三人称单数 ) | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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amble
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| vi.缓行，漫步 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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28
munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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29
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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30
pinnacle
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| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
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31
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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32
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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33
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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37
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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38
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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39
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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40
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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41
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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42
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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43
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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44
entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
pilfered
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| v.偷窃（小东西），小偷( pilfer的过去式和过去分词 )；偷窃（一般指小偷小摸） | |
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46
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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47
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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48
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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49
hovers
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| 鸟( hover的第三人称单数 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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50
reiterate
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| v.重申，反复地说 | |
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51
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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rivet
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| n.铆钉；vt.铆接，铆牢；集中(目光或注意力) | |
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lottery
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| n.抽彩；碰运气的事，难于算计的事 | |
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aberration
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| n.离开正路，脱离常规，色差 | |
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degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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infringe
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| v.违反，触犯，侵害 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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vilify
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| v.诽谤，中伤 | |
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63
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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67
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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68
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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dictates
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| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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entails
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| 使…成为必要( entail的第三人称单数 )； 需要； 限定继承； 使必需 | |
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plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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inflicts
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的第三人称单数 ) | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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craftily
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| 狡猾地，狡诈地 | |
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brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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83
discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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reigns
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| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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veneer
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| n.(墙上的)饰面，虚饰 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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exalt
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| v.赞扬，歌颂，晋升，提升 | |
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exalting
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| a.令人激动的，令人喜悦的 | |
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vagaries
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| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
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wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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100
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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101
exhorting
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| v.劝告，劝说( exhort的现在分词 ) | |
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102
adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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103
encompassed
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| v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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104
beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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105
longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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106
glorify
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| vt.颂扬，赞美，使增光，美化 | |
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107
personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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