But passion most dissembles, yet betrays
Even by its darkness; as the blackest sky
Foretells1 the heaviest tempest, it displays
Its workings through the vainly guarded eye,
And in whatever aspect it arrays
Itself,’tis still the same hypocrisy2;
Coldness or anger, even disdain3 or hate,
Are masks it often wears, and still too late.
DON JUAN, I, 73.
Octave remained motionless, his eyes brimming with tears, and not knowing whether he ought to rejoice or to mourn. After so long a period of waiting, he had at last been able to give battle, that battle for which he had so longed; but had he lost or won it? “If it is lost,” he told himself, “there is nothing more for me in this direction. Armance thinks me so reprehensible4 that she pretends to be satisfied with the first excuse that I offer her, and does not deign5 to enter upon an explanation with a man so little worthy6 of her friendship. What is the meaning of those brief words: You have all my esteem7 ? Could anything be colder? Is that a complete return to our old intimacy8? Is it a polite way of cutting short a disagreeable explanation?” The departure, so abruptly9, of Armance seemed to him to be an especially evil omen10.
While Octave, a prey11 to a profound astonishment12, was seeking to recall exactly what had happened to him, trying to forecast the consequences, and trembling lest, amid his efforts to reason fairly, he should suddenly arrive at some decisive revelation which would make an end of all uncertainty13 by proving to him that his cousin found him unworthy of her esteem, Armance was being racked by the most intense grief. Her tears ehoked her; but they were tears of shame and no longer of happiness.
She hastened to shut herself up in her own room. “Great God,” she said to herself in the intensity14 of her confusion, “what on earth will Octave think after seeing me in this state? Has he understood my tears? Alas15! Can I doubt it? Since when has a simple admission of friendship made a girl of my age burst into tears? Oh, God! After such humiliation16 how can I venture to face him again? The only thing wanting to complete the horror of my situation was to have deserved his contempt. But,” Armance said to herself, “it was something more than a simple admission; for three months I avoided speaking to him; it is a sort of reconciliation17 between friends who have quarrelled, and people say that one sheds tears at reconciliations18 of that sort;— yes, but one does not run away, one is not plunged19 in the most intense confusion.
“Instead of shutting myself up and crying in my bedroom, I ought to be out in the garden and to go on talking to him, happy in the simple happiness of friendship. Yes,” Armance told herself, “I ought to go back to the garden; perhaps Madame de Bonnivet has not yet returned.” As she rose, she looked at herself in the glass and saw that she was not in a fit state to let herself be seen by a man. “Ah!” she cried, letting herself sink down in despair upon a chair, “I am a poor wretch20 who has forfeited21 her honour, and in whose eyes? In Octave’s.” Her sobs22 and her despair prevented her from thinking.
“What!” she said to herself, after an interval23, “so peaceful, so happy even, in spite of my fatal secret, half an hour ago, and now ruined! Ruined for ever, without remedy! A man of such intelligence as his must have seen the whole extent of my weakness, and it is one of the weaknesses that must be most offensive to his stern judgment24.” Armance was stifled25 by her tears. This violent state continued for some hours; it produced a slight touch of fever which won for Armance the permission not to leave her room that evening.
The fever increased, presently an idea came to her: “I am only half despicable, for after all I did not confess in so many words my fatal secret. But after what has happened, I cannot answer for anything. I must erect26 an eternal barrier between Octave and myself. I must enter religion, I shall choose the order that allows most solitude27, a convent situated28 among high mountains, with a picturesque29 view. There I shall never hear his name spoken. This is the voice of duty ,” the unhappy Armance told herself. From that moment the sacrifice was made. She did not say it to herself, she felt (to express it in detail would have been tantamount to doubting it), she felt this truth: “From the moment when I perceived my duty , not to follow it immediately, blindly, without argument, is to act in a vulgar spirit, is to be unworthy of Octave. How often has he told me that this is the secret sign by which one can recognise a noble spirit! Ah! I will submit to your decree, my noble friend, my dear Octave!” Her fever emboldened31 her to utter his name in a whisper, and she found happiness in repeating it.
Presently Armance was picturing herself as a nun32. There were moments in which she was astonished at the mundane33 ornaments34 which decorated her little room. “That fine engraving36 of the Sistine Madonna which Madame de Malivert gave me, I too must give it away,” she said to herself; “it was chosen by Octave, he preferred it to the Marriage of the Madonna, Raphael’s first painting. Even then I remember that I argued with him over the soundness of his choice, solely37 that I might have the pleasure of hearing him defend it. Was I in love with him then without knowing it? Have I always loved him? Ah! I must tear that dishonourable passion from my heart.” And the unhappy Armance, trying to forget her cousin, found his memory blended with all the events of her life, even the most insignificant38. She was alone, she had sent her maid away, to be able to weep without constraint39. She rang the bell and had her engravings carried into the next room. Soon the little room was stripped bare and adorned40 only with its pretty wallpaper of a lapis-lazuli blue. “Is a nun allowed,” she wondered, “to have a wallpaper in her cell?” She pondered for long over this difficulty; her spirit needed to form an exact idea of the state to which she would be reduced in her cell; her uncertainty in this matter surpassed all other evils, for it was her imagination that was engaged in portraving them. “No,” she said to herself at length, “papers cannot be allowed, they were not invented in the days of the foundresses of the religious orders; these orders come from Italy; Prince Touboskin told us that a white wall, washed every year with lime, is the only ornament35 of many beautiful monasteries41. Ah!” she went on in her delirium42, “I ought perhaps to go and take the veil in Italy; I should make my health an excuse.
“Oh, no. Let me at least not leave Octave’s native land, let me at least always hear his tongue spoken.” At this moment Méry de Tersan entered the room; the bareness of the walls caught her eye; she turned pale as she approached her friend. Armance, exalted43 by her fever and by a certain virtuous44 enthusiasm which was also another way of being in love with Octave, sought to bind45 her by a confidence. “I wish to become a nun,” she said to Méry. “What! Has the sereness of a certain person’s heart gone so far as to wound your delicacy46?” “Oh, Lord, no, I have no fault to find with Madame de Bonnivet; she is as fond of me as she can be of a penniless girl who has no position in society. Indeed, she is loving to me when things vex47 her, and could not be kinder to any one than she is to me. I should be unjust, and be shewing a spirit worthy of my position, if I reproached her in the slightest degree.” One of the final phrases of this reply drew tears from Méry, who was rich and had the noble sentiments that distinguish her illustrious family. Without conversing48 save by their tears and the pressure of one another’s hand, the friends spent a great part of the evening together. Finally, Armance told Méry all her reasons for retiring to a convent, with one exception: what was to become socially of a penniless girl, who after all could not be given in marriage to a small shopkeeper round the corner? What fate was in store for her? In a convent one is bound only by the rule. If there are not those distractions49 which we owe to the arts and to the intelligence of people in society, distractions which she enjoyed with Madame de Bonnivet, there is never either the absolute necessity of attracting one person in particular, with humiliation if one does not succeed. Armance would have died of shame sooner than utter the name of Octave. “This is the climax51 of my misery,” she thought, weeping and throwing herself into Méry’s arms. “I cannot ask advice even of the most devoted52, the most virtuous friendship.”
While Armance was weeping in her room, Octave, yielding to an impulse which, for all his philosophy, he was far from explaining to himself, knowing that throughout the evening he would not set eyes on Mademoiselle de Zohiloff, engaged in talk with the women whom as a rule he neglected for the religious argument’s of Madame de Bonnivet. For many months now Octave had found himself pursued by advances which were extremely polite and all the more irritating in consequence. He had become misanthropical53 and soured; soured like Alceste, on the subject of marriageable daughters. As soon as any one spoke30 to him of a woman in society whom he did not know, his first remark was: “Has she a daughter to marry?” Latterly, indeed, his prudence54 had taught him not to be satisfied with an initial reply in the negative. “Madame So-and-So has no daughter to marry,” he would say, “but are you sure there isn’t some niece or other?”
While Armance was being racked by delirium, Octave, who was seeking distraction50 from the uncertainty in which the incident of the afternoon had plunged him, not only talked to all the women who had nieces, but even tackled several of those redoubtable55 mothers who have as many as three daughters. Perhaps this display of courage had been rendered easy to him by the sight of the little chair on which Armance generally sat, near Madame de Bonnivet’s armchair; it had just been taken by one of the young ladies de Claix, whose fine German shoulders, benefiting by the lowness of Armance’s little seat, took the opportunity to display all their freshness. “What a difference!” thought or rather felt Octave; “how ashamed my cousin would be of what constitutes the triumph of Mademoiselle de Claix! For her, it is no more than permissible56 coquetry; it is not even a fault; of this, too, one can say: Noblesse oblige .” Octave set to work to pay court to Mademoiselle de Claix. It would have required some personal motive57 for trying to understand him or greater familiarity with the habitual58 simplicity59 of his expression to detect all the bitterness and scorn that underlay60 his pretended gaiety. His listeners were kind enough to discover wit in what he said to them; to himself the remarks that received most applause seemed quite commonplace and sometimes even tainted61 with vulgarity.
As he had not once stopped to talk to Madame de Bonnivet during the evening, when she passed by him she scolded him in a whisper, and Octave apologised for his desertion of her in a speech which the Marquise thought charming. She was highly pleased with the intelligence of her future proselyte, and the self-possessed air which he assumed in society.
She sang his praises with the artless candour of innocence62 (if the word candour does not blush to see itself employed with reference to a woman who could adopt such charming poses in her bergère and whose eyes were so picturesque when raised to heaven). It must be confessed that at times, when she gazed fixedly63 at a gilded64 ornament on the ceiling of her drawing-room, she would actually say to herself: “There, in that empty space, in that air, there is a Spirit who hears me, magnetises my soul and imparts to it the singular and really quite spontaneous sentiments which I express at times with such eloquence65.” That evening, Madame de Bonnivet, highly pleased with Octave and with the thought of the position to which her disciple66 might one day rise, said to Madame de Claix: “Indeed, the only thing wanting to the young Vicomte was the assurance that is given by wealth. Even if I were not in love with that excellent Law of Indemnity67, because it is so fair to our poor emigres , I should love it for the new spirit it has given my cousin.” Madame d’Ancre shot a glance at Madame de Claix and Madame la Comtesse de la Ronze; and as Madame de Bonnivet left these ladies, in order to greet a young Duchesse who was entering the room: “It seems to me to be all quite clear,” she said to Madame de Claix. “All too clear,” the latter replied: “we shall be having a scandal; only a little more friendliness68 on the part of the astounding69 Octave, and our dear Marquise will be unable to resist the temptation to take us altogether into her confidence.”
“That is always the way,” went on Madame d’Ancre, “that I have seen these people of pronounced virtue70 end, who go in for laying down the law about religion. Ah! my dear Mai’quise, blessed is the woman who just listens meekly71 to her parish priest and offers the holy bread!” “It is certainly better than having Bibles bound by Thouvenin,” put in Madame de Claix. But all Octave’s feigned72 friendliness had vanished in the twinkling of an eye. He had just caught sight of Méry, who had come down from Armance’s bedroom because her mother had sent for her carriage, and Méry’s face was woebegone. She left so hurriedly that Octave had no opportunity of speaking to her. He himself left immediately after her. It would have been impossible for him from that moment to address a word to any one. The distressed73 air of Mademoiselle de Tersan told him that something out of the common was happening; perhaps Mademoiselle de Zohiloff was about to leave Paris to escape him. What is truly remarkable74 is that our philosopher had not the slightest idea that he was genuinely in love with Armance. He had bound himself by the strongest vows75 to resist that passion, and as what he lacked was penetration76 rather than character, he would probably have kept his vows.
收听单词发音 |
1
foretells
|
|
| v.预言，预示( foretell的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
hypocrisy
|
|
| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
disdain
|
|
| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
reprehensible
|
|
| adj.该受责备的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
deign
|
|
| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
esteem
|
|
| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
omen
|
|
| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
uncertainty
|
|
| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
intensity
|
|
| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
humiliation
|
|
| n.羞辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
reconciliation
|
|
| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
reconciliations
|
|
| 和解( reconciliation的名词复数 )； 一致； 勉强接受； （争吵等的）止息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
forfeited
|
|
| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
stifled
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
situated
|
|
| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
picturesque
|
|
| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
emboldened
|
|
| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
nun
|
|
| n.修女，尼姑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
mundane
|
|
| adj.平凡的；尘世的；宇宙的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
ornaments
|
|
| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
ornament
|
|
| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
engraving
|
|
| n.版画；雕刻（作品）；雕刻艺术；镌版术v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的现在分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
solely
|
|
| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
insignificant
|
|
| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
constraint
|
|
| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
monasteries
|
|
| 修道院( monastery的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
delirium
|
|
| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
exalted
|
|
| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
virtuous
|
|
| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
bind
|
|
| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
vex
|
|
| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
conversing
|
|
| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
distractions
|
|
| n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 )；娱乐，消遣；心烦意乱；精神错乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
distraction
|
|
| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
climax
|
|
| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
misanthropical
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
54
prudence
|
|
| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
redoubtable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
permissible
|
|
| adj.可允许的，许可的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
habitual
|
|
| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
underlay
|
|
| v.位于或存在于（某物）之下( underlie的过去式 )；构成…的基础（或起因），引起n.衬垫物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
tainted
|
|
| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
gilded
|
|
| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
disciple
|
|
| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
indemnity
|
|
| n.赔偿，赔款，补偿金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
friendliness
|
|
| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
astounding
|
|
| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
meekly
|
|
| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
feigned
|
|
| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
distressed
|
|
| 痛苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
vows
|
|
| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
penetration
|
|
| n.穿透，穿人，渗透 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |