《未来千年文学备忘录》第33章

nt　living　forms　of　nature。　perhaps；〃　and　a　smile　of　contentment　stole　over　his　face；　〃perhaps　i　have　nature　herself　up　there。　at　times　i　am　half　afraid　that　a　breath　may　waken　her；　and　that　she　will　escape　me。〃
he　rose　to　his　feet　as　if　to　set　out　at　once。
〃aha！〃　said　porbus；　〃i　have　e　just　in　time　to　save　you　the　trouble　and　expense　of　a　journey。〃
〃what？〃　asked　frenhofer　in　amazement。
〃young　poussin　is　loved　by　a　woman　of　inparable　and　flawless　beauty。　but；　dear　master；　if　he　consents　to　lend　her　to　you；　at　the　least　you　ought　to　let　us　see　your　work。〃
the　old　man　stood　motionless　and　pletely　dazed。
〃what！〃　he　cried　piteously　at　last；　〃show　you　my　creation；　my　bride？　rend　the　veil　that　has　kept　my　happiness　sacred？　it　would　be　an　infamous　profanation。　for　ten　years　i　have　lived　with　her；　she　is　mine；　mine　alone；　she　loves　me。　has　she　not　smiled　at　me；　at　each　stroke　of　the　brush　upon　the　canvas？　she　has　a　soul……the　soul　that　i　have　given　her。　she　would　blush　if　any　eyes　but　mine　should　rest　on　her。　to　exhibit　her！　where　is　the　husband；　the　lover　so　vile　as　to　bring　the　woman　he　loves　to　dishonor？　when　you　paint　a　picture　for　the　court；　you　do　not　put　your　whole　soul　into　it；　to　courtiers　you　sell　lay　figures　duly　colored。　my　painting　is　no　painting；　it　is　a　sentiment；　a　passion。　she　was　born　in　my　studio；　there　she　must　dwell　in　maiden　solitude；　and　only　when　clad　can　she　issue　thence。　poetry　and　women　only　lay　the　last　veil　aside　for　their　lovers　have　we　rafaels　model；　ariostos　angelica；　dantes　beatrice？　nay；　only　their　form　and　semblance。　but　this　picture；　locked　away　above　in　my　studio；　is　an　exception　in　our　art。　it　is　not　a　canvas；　it　is　a　woman……a　woman　with　whom　i　talk。　i　share　her　thoughts；　her　tears；　her　laughter。　would　you　have　me　fling　aside　these　ten　years　of　happiness　like　a　cloak？　would　you　have　me　cease　at　once　to　be　father；　lover；　and　creator？　she　is　not　a　creature；　but　a　creation。
〃bring　your　young　painter　here。　i　will　give　him　my　treasures；　i　will　give　him　pictures　by　correggio　and　michelangelo　and　titian；　i　will　kiss　his　footprints　in　the　dust；　but　make　him　my　rival！　shame　on　me。　ah！　ah！　i　am　a　lover　first；　and　then　a　painter。　yes；　with　my　latest　sigh　i　could　find　strength　to　burn　my　belle　noiseuse；　but……pel　her　to　endure　the　gaze　of　a　stranger；　a　young　man　and　a　painter！……ah！　no；　no！　i　would　kill　him　on　the　morrow　who　should　sully　her　with　a　glance！　nay；　you；　my　friend；　i　would　kill　you　with　my　own　hands　in　a　moment　if　you　did　not　kneel　in　reverence　before　her！　now；　will　you　have　me　submit　my　idol　to　the　careless　eyes　and　senseless　criticisms　of　fools？　ah！　love　is　a　mystery；　it　can　only　live　hidden　in　the　depths　of　the　heart。　you　say；　even　to　your　friend；　behold　her　whom　i　love；　and　there　is　an　end　of　love。〃
the　old　man　seemed　to　have　grown　young　again；　there　was　light　and　life　in　his　eyes；　and　a　faint　flush　of　red　in　his　pale　face。　his　hands　shook。　porbus　was　so　amazed　by　the　passionate　vehemence　of　frenhofers　words　that　he　knew　not　what　to　reply　to　this　utterance　of　an　emotion　as　strange　as　it　was　profound。　was　frenhofer　sane　or　mad？　had　he　fallen　a　victim　to　some　freak　of　the　artists　fancy？　or　were　these　ideas　of　his　produced　by　the　strange　lightheadedness　which　es　over　us　during　the　long　travail　of　a　work　of　art。　would　it　be　possible　to　e　to　terms　with　this　singular　passion？
harassed　by　all　these　doubts；　porbus　spoke……〃is　it　not　woman　for　woman？〃　he　said。　〃does　not　poussin　submit　his　mistress　to　your　gaze？〃
〃what　is　she？〃　retorted　the　other。　〃a　mistress　who　will　be　false　to　him　sooner　or　later。　mine　will　be　faithful　to　me　forever。〃
〃well；　well；〃　said　porbus；　〃let　us　say　no　more　about　it。　but　you　may　die　before　you　will　find　such　a　flawless　beauty　as　hers；　even　in　asia；　and　then　your　picture　will　be　left　unfinished。
〃oh！　it　is　finished；〃　said　frenhof　er。　〃standing　before　it　you　would　think　that　it　was　a　living　woman　lying　on　the　velvet　couch　beneath　the　shadow　of　the　curtains。　perfumes　are　burning　on　a　golden　tripod　by　her　side。　you　would　be　tempted　to　lay　your　hand　upon　the　tassel　of　the　cord　that　holds　back　the　curtains；　it　would　seem　to　you　that　you　saw　her　breast　rise　and　fall　as　she　breathed；　that　you　beheld　the　living　catherine　lescault；　the　beautiful　courtezan　whom　men　called　la　belle　noiseuse。　and　yet……if　i　could　but　be　sure……〃
〃then　go　to　asia；〃　returned　porbus；　noticing　a　certain　indecision　in　frenhofers　face。　and　with　that　porbus　made　a　few　steps　toward　the　door。　by　that　time　gillette　and　nicolas　poussin　had　reached　frenhofers　house。　the　girl　drew　away　her　arm　from　her　lovers　as　she　stood　on　the　threshold；　and　shrank　back　as　if　some　presentiment　flashed　through　her　mind。
〃oh！　what　have　i　e　to　do　here？〃　she　asked　of　her　lover　in　low　vibrating　tones；　with　her　eyes　fixed　on　his。
〃gillette；　i　have　left　you　to　decide；　i　am　ready　to　obey　you　in　everything。　you　are　my　conscience　and　my　glory。　go　home　again；　i　shall　be　happier；　perhaps；　if　you　do　not……〃
〃am　i　my　own　when　you　speak　to　me　like　that？　no；　no；　i　am　a　child。……e；〃　she　added；　seemingly　with　a　violent　effort；　〃if　our　love　dies；　if　i　plant　a　long　regret　in　my　heart；　your　fame　will　be　the　reward　of　my　obedience　to　your　wishes；　will　it　not？　let　us　go　in。　i　shall　still　live　on　as　a　memory　on　your　palette；　that　shall　be　life　for　me　afterward。〃
the　door　opened；　and　the　two　lovers　encountered　porbus；　who　was　surprised　by　the　beauty　of　gillette；　whose　eyes　were　full　of　tears。　he　hurried　her；　trembling　from　head　to　foot；　into　the　presence　of　the　old　painter。
〃here！〃　he　cried；　〃is　she　not　worth　all　the　masterpieces　in　the　world！〃
frenhofer　trembled。　there　stood　gillette　in　the　artless　and　childlike　attitude　of　some　timid　and　innocent　georgian；　carried　off　by　brigands；　and　confronted　with　a　slave　merchant。　a　shamefaced　red　flushed　her　face；　her　eyes　drooped；　her　hands　hung　by　her　side；　her　strength　seemed　to　have　failed　her；　her　tears　protested　against　this　outrage。　poussin　cursed　himself　in　despair　that　he　should　have　brought　his　fair　treasure　from　its　hiding…place。　the　lover　overcame　the　artist；　and　countless　doubts　assailed　poussins　heart　when　he　saw　youth　dawn　in　the　old　mans　eyes；　as；　like　a