第67章
- The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
- Anatole France
- 1050字
- 2016-03-02 16:32:59
I know perfectly well that he is only making his little financial statements in order to persuade me that he is comfortably circumstanced, steady, fond of home, comparatively independent--or, to put the matter in the fewest words possible, able to marry.
Quod erat demonstrandum,--as the geometricians say.
He has got up and sat down just twenty times.He now rises for the twenty-first time; and, as he has not been able to see Jeanne, he goes away feeling as unhappy as possible.
The moment he has gone, Jeanne comes into the City of Books, under the pretext of looking for Hannibal.She is also quite unhappy;and her voice becomes singularly plaintive as she calls her pet to give him some milk.Look at that sad little face, Bonnard! Tyrant, gaze upon thy work! Thou hast been able to keep them from seeing each other; but they have now both of them the same expression of countenance, and thou mayest discern from that similarity of expression that in spite of thee they are united in thought.
Cassandra, be happy! Bartholo, rejoice! This is what it means to be a guardian! Just see her kneeling down there on the carpet with Hannibal's head between her hands!
Yes, caress the stupid animal!--pity him!--moan over him!--we know very well, you little rogue, the real cause of all these sighs and plaints! Nevertheless, it makes a very pretty picture.I look at it for a long time; then, throwing a glance around my library, Iexclaim, "Jeanne, I am tired of all those books; we must sell them."September 20.
It is done!--they are betrothed.Gelis, who is an orphan, as Jeanne is, did not make his proposal to me in person.He got one of his professors, an old colleague of mine, highly esteemed for his learning and character, to come to me on his behalf.But what a love messenger! Great Heavens! A bear--neat a bear of the Pyrenees, but a literary bear, and this latter variety of bear is much more ferocious than the former.
"Right or wrong (in my opinion wrong) Gelis says that he does not want any dowry; he takes your ward with nothing but her chemise.
Say yes, and the thing is settled! Make haste about it! I want to show you two or three very curious old tokens from Lorraine which I am sure you never saw before."That is literally what he said to me.I answered him that I would consult Jeanne, and I found no small pleasure in telling him that my ward had a dowry.
Her dowry--there it is in front of me! It is my library.Henri and Jeanne have not even the faintest suspicion about it; and the fact is I am commonly believed to be much richer than I am.I have the face of an old miser.It is certainly a lying face; but its untruthfulness has often won for me a great deal of consideration.
There is nobody so much respected in this world as a stingy rich man.
I have consulted Jeanne,--but what was the need of listening for her answer? It is done! They are betrothed.
It would ill become my character as well as my face to watch these young people any longer for the mere purpose of noting down their words and gestures.Noli me tangere:--that is the maxim for all charming love affairs.I know my duty.It is to respect all the little secrets of that innocent soul intrusted to me.Let these children love each other all they can! Never a word of their fervent outpouring of mutual confidences, never a hint of their artless self-betrayals, will be set down in this diary by the old guardian whose authority was so gentle and so brief.
At all events, I am not going to remain with my arms folded; and if they have their business to attend to, I have mine also.I am preparing a catalogue of my books, with a view to having them all sold at auction.It is a task which saddens and amuses me at the same time.I linger over it, perhaps a good deal longer than Iought to do; turning the leaves of all those works which have become so familiar to my thought, to my touch, to my sight--even out of all necessity and reason.But it is a farewell; and it has ever been in the nature of man to prolong a farewell.
This ponderous volume here, which has served me so much for thirty long years, how can I leave it without according it every kindness that a faithful servant deserves? And this one again, which has so often consoled me by its wholesome doctrines, must I not bow down before it for the last time, as to a Master? But each time that Imeet with a volume which led me into error, which ever afflicted me with false dates, omissions, lies, and other plagues of the archaeologist, I say to it with bitter joy: "Go! imposter, traitor, false-witness! flee thou far away from me for ever;--vade retro!
all absurdly covered with gold as thou art! and I pray it may befall thee--thanks to thy usurped reputation and thy comely morocco attire--to take thy place in the cabinet of some banker-bibliomaniac, whom thou wilt never be able to seduce as thou has seduced me, because he will never read one single line of thee."I laid aside some books I must always keep--those books which were given to me as souvenirs.As I placed among them the manuscript of the "Golden Legend," I could not but kiss it in memory of Madame Trepof, who remained grateful to me in spite of her high position and all her wealth, and who became my benefactress merely to prove to me that she felt I had once done her a kindness....Thus I had made a reserve.It was then that, for the first time, I felt myself inclined to commit a deliberate crime.All through that night Iwas strongly tempted; by morning the temptation had become irresistible.Everybody else in the house was still asleep.I got out of bed and stole softly from my room.