书城公版Notre Dame De Paris
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第123章 BOOK Ⅷ(9)

'Listen,'the priest began at last,and a strange calm had come over him;'thou shalt know all.I am going to tell thee what have hitherto scarcely dared to say to myself when I furtively searched my conscience in those deep hours of the night,when it seems so dark that God himself can see us no longer.Listen.Before I saw thee,girl,I was happy.'

'And I,'she faintly murmured.

'Do not interrupt me—Yes,I was happy,or at least judged myself to be so.I was pure—my soul was filled with limpid light.No head was lifted so high,so radiantly as mine.Priests consulted me upon chastity,ecclesiastics upon doctrine.Yes,learning was all in all to me—it was a sister,and a sister sufficed me.Not but what,in time,other thoughts came to me.More than once my flesh stirred at the passing of some female form.The power of *** and of a man's blood that,foolish adolescent,I had thought stifled forever,had more than once shaken convulsively the iron chain of the vows that rivet me,hapless wretch,to the cold stones of the altar.But fasting,prayer,study,the mortifications of the cloister again restored the empire of the soul over the body.Also I strenuously avoided women.Besides,I had but to open a book,and all the impure vapours of my brain were dissipated by the splendid beams of learning;the gross things of this earth fled from before me,and I found myself once more calm,serene,and joyous in the presence of the steady radiance of eternal truth.So long as the foul fiend only sent against me indefinite shadows of women passing here and there before my eyes,in the church,in the streets,in the fields,and which scarce returned to me in my dreams,I vanquished him easily.Alas!if it stayed not with me,the fault lies with God,who made not man and the demon of equal strength.Listen.One day—'

Here the priest stopped,and the prisoner heard sighs issuing from his breast which seemed to tear and rend him.

He resumed.'One day I was leaning at the window of my cell.What book was I reading?Oh,all is confusion in my mind—I was reading.The window overlooked an open square.I heard a sound of a tambourine and of music.Vexed at being thus disturbed in my meditation,I looked into the square.What I saw,there were others who saw it too,and yet it was no spectacle meet for mortal eyes.There,in the middle of the open space—it was noon—a burning sun—a girl was dancing—but a creature so beautiful that God would have preferred her before the Virgin—would have chosen her to be His mother—if she had existed when He became man.Her eyes were dark and radiant;amid her raven tresses where the sun shone through were strands that glistened like threads of gold.Her feet were invisible in the rapidity of their movement,as are the spokes of a wheel when it turns at high speed.Round her head,among her ebon tresses,were discs of metal that glittered in the sun and formed about her brows a diadem of stars.Her kirtle,thick-set with spangles,twinkled all blue and studded with sparks like a summer's night.Her brown and supple arms twined and untwined themselves about her waist like two scarfs.Her form was of bewildering beauty.Oh,the dazzling figure that stood out luminous against the very sunlight itself!Alas,girl,it was thou!Astounded,intoxicated,enchanted,I suffered myself to gaze upon thee.I watched thee long till suddenly I trembled with horror—I felt that Fate was laying hold on me.'

Gasping for breath,the priest ceased speaking for a moment,then he went on:

'Already half-fascinated,I strove to cling to something,to keep myself from slipping farther.I recalled the snares which Satan had already laid for me.The creature before me had such supernatural beauty as could only be of heaven or hell.That was no mere human girl fashioned out of particles of common clay and feebly illumined from within by the flickering ray of a woman's soul.It was an angle!—but of darkness—of flame,not of light.At the same moment of thinking thus,I saw near thee a goat—a beast of the witches'Sabbath,that looked at me and grinned.The midday sun gilded its horns with fire.'Twas then I caught sight of the devil's snare,and I no longer doubted that thou camest from hell,and that thou wast sent from thence for my perdition.I believed it.'

The priest looked the prisoner in the face and added coldly:

'And I believe so still.However,the charm acted by degrees;thy dancing set my brain in a maze;I felt the mysterious spell working within me.All that should have kept awake fell asleep in my soul,and like those who perish in the snow,I found pleasure in yielding to that slumber.All at once thou didst begin to sing.What could I do,unhappy wretch that I was.Thy song was more enchanting still than thy dance.I tried to flee.Impossible.I was nailed,I was rooted to the spot.I felt as if the stone floor had risen and engulfed me to the knees.I was forced to remain to the end.My feet were ice,my head was on fire.At length thou didst,mayhap,take pity on me—thou didst cease to sing—didst disappear.The reflection of the dazzling vision,the echo of the enchanting music,died away by degrees from my eyes and ears.Then I fell into the embrasure of the window,more stark and helpless than a statue loosened from the pedestal.The vesper bell awoke me.I rose—I fled;but alas!there was something within me fallen to arise no more—something had come upon me from which I could not flee.'