lucile-第7部分

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And　the　permanent　cause　why　she　now　miss'd　and　fail'd　That　firm　hold　upon　life　she　so　keenly　assail'd；　Was；　in　all　those　diurnal　occasions　that　place　Saythe　world　and　the　woman　opposed　face　to　face；　Where　the　woman　must　yield；　she；　refusing　to　stir；　Offended　the　world；　which　in　turn　wounded　her。

As　before；　in　the　old…fashion'd　manner；　I　fit　To　this　character；　also；　its　moral：　to　wit；　Saythe　world　is　a　nettle；　disturb　it；　it　stings：　Grasp　it　firmly；　it　stings　not。　　On　one　of　two　things；　If　you　would　not　be　stung；　it　behoves　you　to　settle　Avoid　it；　or　crush　it。　　She　crush'd　not　the　nettle；　For　she　could　not；　nor　would　she　avoid　it：　she　tried　With　the　weak　hand　of　woman　to　thrust　it　aside；　And　it　stung　her。　　A　woman　is　too　slight　a　thing　To　trample　the　world　without　feeling　its　sting。


III。


One　lodges　but　simply　at　Luchon；　yet；　thanks　To　the　season　that　changes　forever　the　banks　Of　the　blossoming　mountains；　and　shifts　the　light　cloud　O'er　the　valley；　and　hushes　or　rouses　the　loud　Wind　that　wails　in　the　pines；　or　creeps　murmuring　down　The　dark　evergreen　slopes　to　the　slumbering　town；　And　the　torrent　that　falls；　faintly　heard　from　afar；　And　the　blue…bells　that　purple　the　dapple…gray　scaur；　One　sees　with　each　month　of　the　many…faced　year　A　thousand　sweet　changes　of　beauty　appear。　The　chalet　where　dwelt　the　Comtesse　de　Nevers　Rested　half　up　the　base　of　a　mountain　of　firs；　In　a　garden　of　roses；　reveal'd　to　the　road；　Yet　withdrawn　from　its　noise：　'twas　a　peaceful　abode。　And　the　walls；　and　the　roofs；　with　their　gables　like　hoods　Which　the　monks　wear；　were　built　of　sweet　resinous　woods。　The　sunlight　of　noon；　as　Lord　Alfred　ascended　The　steep　garden　paths；　every　odor　had　blended　Of　the　ardent　carnations；　and　faint　heliotropes；　With　the　balms　floated　down　from　the　dark　wooded　slopes：　A　light　breeze　at　the　window　was　playing　about；　And　the　white　curtains　floated；　now　in；　and　now　out。　The　house　was　all　hush'd　when　he　rang　at　the　door；　Which　was　open'd　to　him　in　a　moment；　or　more；　By　an　old　nodding　negress；　whose　sable　head　shined　In　the　sun　like　a　cocoa…nut　polished　in　Ind；　'Neath　the　snowy　foulard　which　about　it　was　wound。


IV。


Lord　Alfred　sprang　forward　at　once；　with　a　bound。　He　remembered　the　nurse　of　Lucile。　　The　old　dame；　Whose　teeth　and　whose　eyes　used　to　beam　when　he　came；　With　a　boy's　eager　step；　in　the　blithe　days　of　yore；　To　pass；　unannounced；　her　young　mistress's　door。　The　old　woman　had　fondled　Lucile　on　her　knee　When　she　left；　as　an　infant；　far　over　the　sea；　In　India；　the　tomb　of　a　mother；　unknown；　To　pine；　a　pale　flow'ret；　in　great　Paris　town。　She　had　sooth'd　the　child's　sobs　on　her　breast；　when　she　read　The　letter　that　told　her；　her　father　was　dead。　An　astute；　shrewd　adventurer；　who；　like　Ulysses；　Had　studied　men；　cities；　laws；　wars；　the　abysses　Of　statecraft；　with　varying　fortunes；　was　he。　He　had　wander'd　the　world　through；　by　land　and　by　sea；　And　knew　it　in　most　of　its　phases。　　Strong　will；　Subtle　tact；　and　soft　manners；　had　given　him　skill　To　conciliate　Fortune；　and　courage　to　brave　Her　displeasure。　　Thrice　shipwreck'd；　and　cast　by　the　wave　On　his　own　quick　resources；　they　rarely　had　fail'd　His　command：　often　baffled；　he　ever　prevail'd；　In　his　combat　with　fate：　to…day　flatter'd　and　fed　By　monarchs；　to…morrow　in　search　of　mere　bread　The　offspring　of　times　trouble…haunted；　he　came　Of　a　family　ruin'd；　yet　noble　in　name。　He　lost　sight　of　his　fortune；　at　twenty；　in　France；　And；　half　statesman；　half　soldier；　and　wholly　Freelance；　Had　wander'd　in　search　of　it；　over　the　world　Into　India。

　　　　　　　　　　　　But　scarce　had　the　nomad　unfurl'd　His　wandering　tent　at　Mysore；　in　the　smile　Of　a　Rajah　（whose　court　he　controll'd　for　a　while；　And　whose　council　he　prompted　and　govern'd　by　stealth）；　Scarce；　indeed；　had　he　wedded　an　Indian　of　wealth；　Who　died　giving　birth　to　this　daughter；　before　He　was　borne　to　the　tomb　of　his　wife　at　Mysore。　His　fortune；　which　fell　to　his　orphan；　perchance　Had　secured　her　a　home　with　his　sister　in　France；　A　lone　woman；　the　last　of　the　race　left。　　Lucile　Neither　felt；　nor　affected；　the　wish　to　conceal　The　half…Eastern　blood；　which　appear'd　to　bequeath　（Reveal'd　now　and　then；　though　but　rarely；　beneath　That　outward　repose　that　concealed　it　in　her）　A　something　half　wild　to　her　strange　character。　The　nurse　with　the　orphan；　awhile　broken…hearted；　At　the　door　of　a　convent　in　Paris　had　parted。　But　later；　once　more；　with　her　mistress　she　tarried；　When　the　girl；　by　that　grim　maiden　aunt；　had　been　married　To　a　dreary　old　Count；　who　had　sullenly　died；　With　no　claim　on　her　tearsshe　had　wept　as　a　bride。　Said　Lord　Alfred；　〃Your　mistress　expects　me。〃

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The　crone　Oped　the　drawing…room　door；　and　there　left　him　alone。


V。


O'er　the　soft　atmosphere　of　this　temple　of　grace　Rested　silence　and　perfume。　　No　sound　reach'd　the　place。　In　the　white　curtains　waver'd　the　delicate　shade　Of　the　heaving　acacias；　through　which　the　breeze　play'd。　O'er　the　smooth　wooden　floor；　polished　dark　as　a　glass；　Fragrant　white　Indian　matting　allowed　you　to　pass。　In　light　olive　baskets；　by　window　and　door；　Some　hung　from　the　ceiling；　some　crowding　the　floor；　Rich　wild　flowers　pluck'd　by　Lucile　from　the　hill；　Seem'd　the　room　with　their　passionate　presence　to　fill：　Blue　aconite；　hid　in　white　roses；　reposed；　The　deep　belladonna　its　vermeil　disclosed；　And　the　frail　saponaire；　and　the　tender　blue…bell；　And　the　purple　valerian；each　child　of　the　fell　And　the　solitude　flourish'd；　fed　fair　from　the　source　Of　waters　the　huntsman　scarce　heeds　in　his　course　Where　the　chamois　and　izard；　with　delicate　hoof；　Pause　or　flit　through　the　pinnacled　silence　aloof。


VI。


Here　you　felt；　by　the　sense　of　its　beauty　reposed；　That　you　stood　in　a　shrine　of　sweet　thoughts。　　Half　unclosed　In　the　light　slept　the　flowers；　all　was　pure　and　at　rest；　All　peaceful；　all　modest；　all　seem'd　self…possess'd；　And　aware　of　the　silence。　　No　vestige　nor　trace　Of　a　young　woman's　coquetry　troubled　the　place。　He　stood　by　the　window。　　A　cloud　pass'd　the　sun。　A　light　breeze　uplifted　the　leaves；　one　by　one。　Just　then　Lucile　enter'd　the　room；　undiscern'd　By　Lord　Alfred；　whose　face　to　the　window　was　turned；　In　a　strange　revery。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The　time　was；　when　Lucile；　In　beholding　that　man；　could　not　help　but　reveal　The　rapture；　the　fear；　which　wrench'd　out　every　nerve　In　the　heart　of　the　girl　from　the　woman's　reserve。　And　nowshe　gazed　at　him；　calm；　smiling；perchance　Indifferent。


VII。


　　　　　　　　　　　　　Indifferently　turning　his　glance；　Alfred　Vargrave　encounter'd　that　gaze　unaware。　O'er　a　bodice　snow…white　stream'd　her　soft　dusky　hair：　A　rose…bud　half　blown　in　her　hand；　in　her　eyes　A　half…pensive　smile。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　A　sharp　cry　of　surprise　Escaped　from　his　lips：　some　unknown　agitation。　An　invincible　trouble；　a　strange　palpitation；　Confused　his　ingenious　and　frivolous　wit；　Overtook；　and　entangled；　and　paralyzed　it。　That　wit　so　complacent　and　docile；　that　ever　Lightly　came　at　the　call　of　the　lightest　endeavor；　Ready　coin'd；　and　availably　current　as　gold；　Which；　secure　of　its　value；　so　fluently　roll'd　In　free　circulation　from　hand　on　to　hand　For　the　usage　of　all；　at　a　moment's　command；　For　once　it　rebell'd；　it　was　mute　and　unstirr'd；　And　he　looked　at　Lucile　without　speaking　a　word。


VIII。


Perhaps　what　so　troubled　him　was；　that　the　face　On　whose　features　he　gazed　had　no　more　than　a　trace　Of　the　face　his　remembrance　had　imaged　for　years。　Yes！　the　face　he　remember'd　was　faded　with　tears：　Grief　had　famish'd　the　figure；　and　dimmed　the　dark　eyes；　And　starved　the　pale　lips；　too　acquainted　with　sighs；　And　that　tender；　and　gracious；　and　fond　coquetterie　Of　a　woman　who　knows　her　least　ribbon　to　be　Something　dear　to　the　lips　that　so　warmly　caress　Every　sacred　detail　of　her　exquisite　dress；　In　the　careless　toilet　of　Lucilethen　too　sad　To　care　aught　to　her　changeable　beauty　to　add　Lord　Alfred　had　never　admired　before！　Alas！　poor　Lucile；　in　those　weak　days　of　yore；　Had　neglected　herself；　never　heeding；　or　thinking　（While　the　blossom　and　bloom　of　her　beauty　were　shrinking）　That　sorrow　can　beautify　only　the　heart　Not　the　faceof　a　woman；　and　can　but　impart　Its　endearment　to　one　that　has　suffer'd。　　In　truth　Grief　hath　beauty　for　grief；　but　gay　youth　loves　gay　youth。


IX。


The　woman　that　now　met；　unshrinking　his　gaze；　Seem'd　to　bask　in　the　silent　but　sumptuous　haze　Of　that　soft　second　summer；　more　ripe　than　the　first；　Which　returns　when　the　bud　to　the　blossom　hath　burst　In　despite　of　the　stormiest　April。　　Lucile　Had　acquired　that　matchless　unconscious　appeal　To　the　homage　which　none　but　a　churl　would　withhold　That　caressing　and　exquisite　gracenever　bold；　Ever　presentwhich　just　a　few　women　possess。　From　a　healthful　repose；　undisturb'd　by　the　stress　Of　unquiet　emotions；　her　soft　cheek　had　drawn　A　freshness　as　pure　as　the　twilight　of　dawn。　Her　figure；　though　slight；　had　revived　everywhere　The　luxurious　proportions　of　youth；　and　her　hair　Once　shorn　as　an　offering　to　passionate　love　Now　floated　or　rested　redundant　above　Her　airy　pure　forehead　and　throat；　gather'd　loose　Under　which；　by　one　violet　knot；　the　profuse　Milk…white　folds　of　a　cool　modest　garment　reposed；　Rippled　faint　by　the　breast　they　half　hid；　half　disclosed；　And　her　simple　attire　thus　in　all　things　reveal'd　The　fine　art　which　so　artfully　all　things　conceal'd。


X。


Lord　Alfred；　who　never　conceived　that　Lucile　Could　have　look'd　so　enchanting；　felt　tempted　to　kneel　At　her　feet；　and　her　pardon　with　passion　implore；　But　the　calm　smile　that　met　him　sufficed　to　restore　The　pride　and　the　bitterness　needed　to　meet　The　occasion　with　dignity　due　and　discreet。


XI。


〃Madam；〃thus　he　began　with　a　voice　reassured；　〃You　see　that　your　latest　command　has　secured　My　immediate　obediencepresuming　I　may　Consider　my　freedom　restored　from　this　day。〃　〃I　had　thought；〃　said　Lucile；　with　a　smile　gay　yet　sad；　〃That　your　freedom　from　me　not　a　fetter　has　had。　Indeed！　。　。　。　in　my　chains　have　you　rested　till　now？　I　had　not　so　flattered　myself；　I　avow！〃　〃For　Heaven's　sake；　Madam；〃　Lord　Alfred　replied；　〃Do　not　jest！　has　the　moment　no　sadness？〃　he　sigh'd。　〃'Tis　an　ancient　tradition；〃　she　answer'd；　〃a　tale　Often　tolda　position　too　sure　to　prevail　In　the　end　of　all　legends　of　love。　　If　we