sarrasine-第6部分

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moonlight；　and　soon　reached　a　door　through　the　cracks　of　which　stole　a
bright　light；　and　from　which　came　the　joyous　sound　of　several　voices。
Sarrasine　was　suddenly　blinded　when；　at　a　word　from　the　old　woman；　he
was　admitted　to　that　mysterious　apartment　and　found　himself　in　a　salon
as　brilliantly　lighted　as　it　was　sumptuously　furnished；　in　the　centre
stood　a　bountifully　supplied　table；　laden　with　inviolable　bottles；
with　laughing　decanters　whose　red　facets　sparkled　merrily。　He
recognized　the　singers　from　the　theatre；　male　and　female；　mingled　with
charming　women；　all　ready　to　begin　an　artists'　spree　and　waiting　only
for　him。　Sarrasine　restrained　a　feeling　of　displeasure　and　put　a　good
face　on　the　matter。　He　had　hoped　for　a　dimly　lighted　chamber；　his
mistress　leaning　over　a　brazier；　a　jealous　rival　within　two　steps；
death　and　love；　confidences　exchanged　in　low　tones；　heart　to　heart；
hazardous　kisses；　and　faces　so　near　together　that　La　Zambinella's　hair
would　have　touched　caressingly　his　desire…laden　brow；　burning　with
happiness。

〃　'/Vive　la　folie！/'　he　cried。　'/Signori　e　belle　donne/；　you　will
allow　me　to　postpone　my　revenge　and　bear　witness　to　my　gratitude　for
the　welcome　you　offer　a　poor　sculptor。'

〃After　receiving　congratulations　not　lacking　in　warmth　from　most　of
those　present；　whom　he　knew　by　sight；　he　tried　to　approach　the　couch
on　which　La　Zambinella　was　nonchalantly　reclining。　Ah！　how　his　heart
beat　when　he　spied　a　tiny　foot　in　one　of　those　slippers　whichif　you
will　allow　me　to　say　so；　madameformerly　imparted　to　a　woman's　feet
such　a　coquettish；　voluptuous　look　that　I　cannot　conceive　how　men
could　resist　them。　Tightly　fitting　white　stockings　with　green　clocks；
short　skirts；　and　the　pointed；　high…heeled　slippers　of　Louis　XV。's
time　contributed　somewhat；　I　fancy；　to　the　demoralization　of　Europe
and　the　clergy。〃

〃Somewhat！〃　exclaimed　the　marchioness。　〃Have　you　read　nothing；　pray？〃

〃La　Zambinella；〃　I　continued；　smiling；　〃had　boldly　crossed　her　legs；
and　as　she　prattled　swung　the　upper　one；　a　duchess'　attitude　very　well
suited　to　her　capricious　type　of　beauty；　overflowing　with　a　certain
attractive　suppleness。　She　had　laid　aside　her　stage　costume；　and　wore
a　waist　which　outlined　a　slender　figure；　displayed　to　the　best
advantage　by　a　/panier/　and　a　satin　dress　embroidered　with　blue
flowers。　Her　breast；　whose　treasures　were　concealed　by　a　coquettish
arrangement　of　lace；　was　of　a　gleaming　white。　Her　hair　was　dressed
almost　like　Madame　du　Barry's；　her　face；　although　overshadowed　by　a
large　cap；　seemed　only　the　daintier　therefor；　and　the　powder　was　very
becoming　to　her。　She　smiled　graciously　at　the　sculptor。　Sarrasine；
disgusted　beyond　measure　at　finding　himself　unable　to　speak　to　her
without　witnesses；　courteously　seated　himself　beside　her；　and
discoursed　of　music；　extolling　her　prodigious　talent；　but　his　voice
trembled　with　love　and　fear　and　hope。

〃　'What　do　you　fear？'　queried　Vitagliani；　the　most　celebrated　singer
in　the　troupe。　'Go　on；　you　have　no　rival　here　to　fear。'

〃After　he　had　said　this　the　tenor　smiled　silently。　The　lips　of　all　the
guests　repeated　that　smile；　in　which　there　was　a　lurking　expression　of
malice　likely　to　escape　a　lover。　The　publicity　of　his　love　was　like　a
sudden　dagger…thrust　in　Sarrasine's　heart。　Although　possessed　of　a
certain　strength　of　character；　and　although　nothing　that　might　happen
could　subdue　the　violence　of　his　passion；　it　had　not　before　occurred
to　him　that　La　Zambinella　was　almost　a　courtesan；　and　that　he　could
not　hope　to　enjoy　at　one　and　the　same　time　the　pure　delights　which
would　make　a　maiden's　love　so　sweet；　and　the　passionate　transports
with　which　one　must　purchase　the　perilous　favors　of　an　actress。　He
reflected　and　resigned　himself　to　his　fate。　The　supper　was　served。
Sarrasine　and　La　Zambinella　seated　themselves　side　by　side　without
ceremony。　During　the　first　half　of　the　feast　the　artists　exercised
some　restraint；　and　the　sculptor　was　able　to　converse　with　the　singer。
He　found　that　she　was　very　bright　and　quick…witted；　but　she　was
amazingly　ignorant　and　seemed　weak　and　superstitious。　The　delicacy　of
her　organs　was　reproduced　in　her　understanding。　When　Vitagliani　opened
the　first　bottle　of　champagne；　Sarrasine　read　in　his　neighbor's　eyes　a
shrinking　dread　of　the　report　caused　by　the　release　of　the　gas。　The
involuntary　shudder　of　that　thoroughly　feminine　temperament　was
interpreted　by　the　amorous　artist　as　indicating　extreme　delicacy　of
feeling。　This　weakness　delighted　the　Frenchman。　There　is　so　much　of
the　element　of　protection　in　a　man's　love！

〃　'You　may　make　use　of　my　power　as　a　shield！'

〃Is　not　that　sentence　written　at　the　root　of　all　declarations　of　love？
Sarrasine；　who　was　too　passionately　in　love　to　make　fine　speeches　to
the　fair　Italian；　was；　like　all　lovers；　grave；　jovial；　meditative；　by
turns。　Although　he　seemed　to　listen　to　the　guests；　he　did　not　hear　a
word　that　they　said；　he　was　so　wrapped　up　in　the　pleasure　of　sitting
by　her　side；　of　touching　her　hand；　of　waiting　on　her。　He　was　swimming
in　a　sea　of　concealed　joy。　Despite　the　eloquence　of　divers　glances
they　exchanged；　he　was　amazed　at　La　Zambinella's　continued　reserve
toward　him。　She　had　begun；　it　is　true；　by　touching　his　foot　with　hers
and　stimulating　his　passion　with　the　mischievous　pleasure　of　a　woman
who　is　free　and　in　love；　but　she　had　suddenly　enveloped　herself　in
maidenly　modesty；　after　she　had　heard　Sarrasine　relate　an　incident
which　illustrated　the　extreme　violence　of　his　temper。　When　the　supper
became　a　debauch；　the　guests　began　to　sing；　inspired　by　the　Peralta
and　the　Pedro…Ximenes。　There　were　fascinating　duets；　Calabrian
ballads；　Spanish　/sequidillas/；　and　Neapolitan　/canzonettes/。
Drunkenness　was　in　all　eyes；　in　the　music；　in　the　hearts　and　voices　of
the　guests。　There　was　a　sudden　overflow　of　bewitching　vivacity；　of
cordial　unconstraint；　of　Italian　good　nature；　of　which　no　words　can
convey　an　idea　to　those　who　know　only　the　evening　parties　of　Paris；
the　routs　of　London；　or　the　clubs　of　Vienna。　Jests　and　words　of　love
flew　from　side　to　side　like　bullets　in　a　battle；　amid　laughter；
impieties；　invocations　to　the　Blessed　Virgin　or　the　/Bambino/。　One　man
lay　on　a　sofa　and　fell　asleep。　A　young　woman　listened　to　a
declaration；　unconscious　that　she　was　spilling　Xeres　wine　on　the
tablecloth。　Amid　all　this　confusion　La　Zambinella；　as　if　terror…
stricken；　seemed　lost　in　thought。　She　refused　to　drink；　but　ate
perhaps　a　little　too　much；　but　gluttony　is　attractive　in　women；　it　is
said。　Sarrasine；　admiring　his　mistress'　modesty；　indulged　in　serious
reflections　concerning　the　future。

〃　'She　desires　to　be　married；　I　presume；'　he　said　to　himself。

〃Thereupon　he　abandoned　himself　to　blissful　anticipations　of　marriage
with　her。　It　seemed　to　him　that　his　whole　life　would　be　too　short　to
exhaust　the　living　spring　of　happiness　which　he　found　in　the　depths　of
his　heart。　Vitagliani；　who　sat　on　his　other　side；　filled　his　glass　so
often　that；　about　three　in　the　morning；　Sarrasine；　while　not
absolutely　drunk；　was　powerless　to　resist　his　delirious　passion。　In　a
moment　of　frenzy　he　seized　the　woman　and　carried　her　to　a　sort　of
boudoir　which　opened　from　the　salon；　and　toward　which　he　had　more　than
once　turned　his　eyes。　The　Italian　was　armed　with　a　dagger。

〃　'If　you　come　hear　me；'　she　said；　'I　shall　be　compelled　to　plunge
this　blade　into　your　heart。　Go！　you　would　despise　me。　I　have　conceived
too　great　a　respect　for　your　character　to　abandon　myself　to　you　thus。
I　do　not　choose　to　destroy　the　sentiment　with　which　you　honor　me。'

〃　'Ah！'　said　Sarrasine；　'to　stimulate　a　passion　is　a　poor　way　to
extinguish　it！　Are　you　already　so　corrupt　that；　being　old　in　heart；
you　act　like　a　young　prostitute　who　inflames　the　emotions　in　which　she
trades？'

〃　'Why；　this　is　Friday；'　she　replied；　alarmed　by　the　Frenchman's
violence。

〃Sarrasine；　who　was　not　piously　inclined；　began　to　laugh。　La
Zambinella　gave　a　bound　like　a　young　deer；　and　darted　into　the　salon。
When　Sarrasine　appeared；　running　after　her；　he　was　welcomed　by　a　roar
of　infernal　laughter。　He　saw　La　Zambinella　swooning　on　a　sofa。　She　was
very　pale；　as　if　exhausted　by　the　extraordinary　effort　she　had　made。
Although　Sarrasine　knew　but　little　Italian；　he　understood　his　mistress
when　she　said　to　Vitagliani　in　a　low　voice：

〃　'But　he　will　kill　me！'

〃This　strange　scene　abashed　the　sculptor。　His　reason　returned。　He
stood　still　for　a　moment；　then　he　recovered　his　speech；　sat　down
beside　his　mistress；　and　assured　her　of　his　profound　respect。　He　found
strength　to　hold　his　passion　in　check　while　talking　to　her　in　the　most
exalted　strain；　and；　to　describe　his　love；　he　displayed　all　the
treasures　of　eloquencethat　sorcerer；　that　friendly　interpreter；　whom
women　rarely　refuse　to　believe。　When　the　first　rays　of　dawn　surprised
the　boon　companions；　some　woman　suggested　that　they　go　to　Frascati。
One　and　all　welcomed　with　loud　applause　the　idea　of　passing　the　day　at
Villa　Ludovisi。　Vitagliani　went　down　to　hire　carriages。　Sarrasine　had
the　good　fortune　to　drive　La　Zambinella　in　a　phaeton。　When　they　had
left　Rome　behind；　the　merriment　of　the　party；　repressed　for　a　moment
by　the　battle　they　had　all　been　fighting　against　drowsiness；　suddenly
awoke。　All；　men　and　women　alike；　seemed　accustomed　to　that　strange
life；　that　constant　round　of　pleasures；　that　artistic　energy；　which
makes　of　life　one　never　ending　/fete/；　where　laughter　reigns；
unchecked　by　fear　of　the　future。　The　sculptor's　companion　was　the　only
one　who　seemed　out　of　spirits。

〃　'Are　you　ill？'　Sarrasine　asked　her。　'Would　you　prefer　to　go　home？'

〃　'I　am　not　strong　enough　to　stand　all　this　dissipation；'　she　replied。
'I　have　to　be　very　careful；　but　I　feel　so　happy　with　you！　Except　for
you；　I　should　not　have　remained　to　this　supper；　a　night　like　this
takes　away　all　my　freshness。'

〃　'You　are　so　delicate！'　rejoined　Sarrasine；　gazing　in　rapture　at　the
charming　creature's　dainty　features。

〃　'Dissipation　ruins　my　voice。'

〃　'Now　that　we　are　alone；'　cried　the　artist；　'and　that　you　no　longer
have　reason　to　fear　the　effervescence　of　my　passion；　tell　me　that　you
love　me。'

〃　'Why？'　said　she；　'for　what　good　p