TO THE DUKE D'ALÉRIA.
POLIGNAC, via LE PUY (HAUTE-LOIRE),
May 1, '45.
The address I give you is a secret which I intrust to you, and which I am happy to intrust to you. If by any unforeseen accident I should chance to die, away from you, you would know that your first duty would be to send hither and see that the child was not neglected by the people in whose charge I have placed him. These people do not know who I am; they know neither my name nor my country; they are not aware even that the child is mine. That these precautions are necessary, I have already told you. M. de G—— clings to suspicions which would naturally lead him to doubt the legitimacy1 of his daughter,—really his own, nevertheless. This fear was the torture of their unhappy mother, to whom I swore that the existence of Didier should be concealed3 until Laura's fortune had been assured. I have noticed more than once the uneasy curiosity with which my movements have been watched. I cannot therefore cloud them too much in mystery.
This is my reason for placing my son so far away from me and in a province where having no other interests of any kind, I run less risk than I should elsewhere of being betrayed through some accidental meeting. The people with whom I have to deal give me every possible guaranty of their honesty, goodwill4, and discretion5, in the single fact that they abstain6 from questioning or watching me. The nurse is the niece of Joseph, that good old servant whom we lost a year ago. It was he who recommended her to me; but she, too, is in complete ignorance regarding me. She knows me by the name of "Bernyer." The woman is young, healthy, and good-humored, a simple peasant, but comfortably provided for. I should fear that, in making her richer, I could not eradicate7 the parsimonious8 habits of the country, which, I perceive, are even more inveterate9 here than elsewhere; and I have held merely to this, that the poor child, while brought up in the true conditions of rustic10 development, should not have to suffer from an excess of these conditions; this excess having precisely11 the same effect upon children that lack of sunlight produces upon plants.
My hosts, for I am writing this in their house, are farmers, having charge of the enclosed grounds, within which rises, from a rocky platform, one of the rudest of mediæval fortresses12, the cradle of that family whose last representatives played such an unhappy part in the recent vicissitudes13 of our monarchy14. Their ancestors in this province played no less sad a one, and no less important to an age when the feudal15 system had made the part of king very insignificant16. It is not without interest for the historical work upon which I am engaged, to gather up the traditions here and to study the look and character of the old manor17 and the surrounding country; so I have not absolutely deceived my mother in telling her that I was going to travel in "search of information."
There is really much to be learned here in the very heart of our beautiful France, which it is not fashionable to visit, and which consequently still hides its shrines18 of poetry and its mines of science in inaccessible19 nooks. Here is a country without roads, without guides, without any facilities for locomotion20, where every discovery must be conquered at the price of danger or fatigue21. The inhabitants know as little about it as strangers. Their purely22 rural lives confine their ideas of locality to a very limited horizon: on a stroll, then, it is impossible to get any information, if you do not know the names and relative situations of all the little straggling villages; indeed, without a very complete map to consult at every step, although I have been in this country three times in the two years of Didier's life here, I could find my way only in a straight line, a thing entirely23 out of the question over a soil cut up with deep ravines, crossed in every way by lofty walls of lava24, and furrowed25 by numerous torrents26.
But I need not go far to appreciate the wild and striking character of the landscape. Nothing, my friend, can give you an idea of this basin of Le Puy with its picturesque27 beauty, and I can think of no place more difficult to describe. It is not Switzerland, it is less terrible; it is not Italy, it is more lovely; it is Central France with all its Vesuviuses extinct and clothed with splendid vegetation; and yet it is neither Auvergne nor Limosin, with which you are familiar.
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But I have said enough to keep my promise and to give you some general idea of the country. My dear brother, you urged me to write a long letter, foreseeing that, in my lonely, sleepless28 hours, I should think too much about myself, my sad life, and my painful past, in the presence of this child who is sleeping yonder while I write! It is true that the sight of him reopens many wounds, and that it is doing me a kindness to compel me to forget myself while generalizing my impressions. And yet I find here powerful emotions, too, which are not without sweetness. Shall I close my letter before I have spoken of him? You see I hesitate; I fear I shall make you smile. You pretend to detest29 children. As for me, without feeling that repugnance30 I used formerly31 to shrink from coming in contact with these little beings, whose helpless candor32 had something appalling33 to my mind. To-day I am totally changed in this regard, and even if you should laugh at me, I must still open my heart to you without reserve. Yes, yes, my friend, I must do it. That you may know me thoroughly34, I ought to conquer my sensitiveness.
Well, then, you must know I worship this child, and I see, that sooner or later, he will be my whole life and my whole aim. It is not duty alone that brings me to him, it is my own heart that cries out for him, when I have gone without seeing him for a certain length of time. He is comfortable here, he wants for nothing, he is growing strong, he is beloved. His adopted parents are excellent souls, and, as to caring for him properly, I can see that their hearts are in the matter as well as their interests. They live in a part of the manor-house which yet remains35 standing36 and which has been suitably restored. They are neat and painstaking37 people, and they are bringing up the child within these ruins, on the summit of the large rock, under a bright sky, and in a pure and bracing38 atmosphere. The woman has lived in Paris; she has correct ideas as to the amount of energy and also of humoring that it takes to manage a child more delicate, indeed, than her own children, but with as good a constitution; so I need not feel anxious about anything, but can await the age when it will become necessary to care for and form other material than the body. Well! I am ill at ease about him just as soon as I am away from him. His existence then often seems like an anxiety and a deep trouble in my life; but, when I see him again, all fears vanish and all bitterness is allayed39. What shall I say then? I love him! I feel that he belongs to me and that I belong equally to him. I feel that he is mine, yes, mine, far more than his poor mother ever was; as his features and disposition40 become more marked, I seek vainly in him for something which may recall her to me, and this something does not seem to unfold. Contrary to the usual law which makes boys rather than girls inherit the traits of the mother, it is his father that this child will resemble, if he continues, henceforth, to develop in the way he seems to be doing now. He has already my indolence and the unconquerable timidity of my earliest years, which my mother so often tells me about, and my quick, impulsive41 moments of unreserved confidence, which made her, she says, forgive me and love me in spite of all. This year he has taken notice of my presence near him. He was afraid at first, but now he smiles and tries to talk. His smile and broken words make me tremble; and when he takes my hand to walk, a certain grateful feeling toward him, I cannot tell what, brings to my eyes tears which I conceal2 with difficulty.
But this is enough, I do not want to appear too much of a child myself: I have told you this that you may no longer wonder why I refuse to listen to your plans for me. My friend, you must never speak to me of love or marriage. I have not store of happiness enough to bestow42 any upon a being that would be new to my life. My life itself is hardly sufficient for my duties, as I see clearly in the affection I have for Didier, for my mother, and for you. With this thirst for study, which so often becomes a fever in me, what time should I have for enlivening the leisure hours of a young woman eager for happiness and gayety? No, no, do not think of it; and if the idea of such isolation43 is sometimes fearful at my age, help me to await the moment when it will be perfectly44 natural. This will be my task for several years to come. Your affection, as you know, will make them seem fewer and shorter. Keep it for me, indulgent to my faults, generous even toward my confidence.
P. S. I presume that my mother has left for Séval with Mlle de Saint-Geneix, and that you have accompanied them. If my mother is anxious about me, tell her you have heard from me and that I am still in Normandy.
点击收听单词发音
1 legitimacy | |
n.合法,正当 | |
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2 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
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3 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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4 goodwill | |
n.善意,亲善,信誉,声誉 | |
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5 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
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6 abstain | |
v.自制,戒绝,弃权,避免 | |
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7 eradicate | |
v.根除,消灭,杜绝 | |
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8 parsimonious | |
adj.吝啬的,质量低劣的 | |
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9 inveterate | |
adj.积习已深的,根深蒂固的 | |
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10 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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11 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
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12 fortresses | |
堡垒,要塞( fortress的名词复数 ) | |
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13 vicissitudes | |
n.变迁,世事变化;变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 );盛衰兴废 | |
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14 monarchy | |
n.君主,最高统治者;君主政体,君主国 | |
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15 feudal | |
adj.封建的,封地的,领地的 | |
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16 insignificant | |
adj.无关紧要的,可忽略的,无意义的 | |
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17 manor | |
n.庄园,领地 | |
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18 shrines | |
圣地,圣坛,神圣场所( shrine的名词复数 ) | |
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19 inaccessible | |
adj.达不到的,难接近的 | |
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20 locomotion | |
n.运动,移动 | |
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21 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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22 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
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23 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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24 lava | |
n.熔岩,火山岩 | |
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25 furrowed | |
v.犁田,开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26 torrents | |
n.倾注;奔流( torrent的名词复数 );急流;爆发;连续不断 | |
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27 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
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28 sleepless | |
adj.不睡眠的,睡不著的,不休息的 | |
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29 detest | |
vt.痛恨,憎恶 | |
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30 repugnance | |
n.嫌恶 | |
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31 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
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32 candor | |
n.坦白,率真 | |
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33 appalling | |
adj.骇人听闻的,令人震惊的,可怕的 | |
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34 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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35 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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36 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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37 painstaking | |
adj.苦干的;艰苦的,费力的,刻苦的 | |
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38 bracing | |
adj.令人振奋的 | |
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39 allayed | |
v.减轻,缓和( allay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
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41 impulsive | |
adj.冲动的,刺激的;有推动力的 | |
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42 bestow | |
v.把…赠与,把…授予;花费 | |
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43 isolation | |
n.隔离,孤立,分解,分离 | |
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44 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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