茶花女第十二章 Chapter 12

清晨五点钟，微弱的晨光透过窗帘照射进来，玛格丽特对我说：

“很抱歉，我要赶您走了，这是没有办法的事，公爵每天早上都要来；他来的时候，别人会对他说我还在睡觉，他可能一直要等到我醒来。”

我把玛格丽特的头捧在手里，她那蓬松的头发零乱地披散在周围，我最后吻了吻她，对她说：

“我们什么时候再见？”

“听着，”她接着说：“壁炉上有一把金色的小钥匙，您拿去打开这扇门，再把钥匙拿来，您就走吧。今天您会收到我一封信和我的命令，因为您知道您应该盲目地服从我。”

“是的，不过我现在是不是可以向您要求一点东西呢？”

“要求什么？”

“把这把钥匙给我。”

“这个东西我从来没有给过别人。”

“那么，您就给我吧，因为我对您起过誓，我爱您跟别人爱您不一样。”

“那么您就拿去吧，但是我要告诉您，我可以让这把钥匙对您毫无用处。”

“怎么会呢？”

“门里面有插销。”

“坏东西！”

“我叫人把插销拆了吧。”

“那么，您真有点儿爱我吗？”

“我也不知道是怎么一回事，不过看来我真的爱上您了。

现在您去吧，我困得很。”

我们又紧紧地拥抱了一会儿，后来我就走了。

街上阒无人迹，巨大的城市还沉睡未醒，到处吹拂着一阵阵柔和的微风，再过几个小时，这里就要熙来攘往，人声鼎沸了。

现在这座沉睡着的城市仿佛是属于我一个人的。过去我一直羡慕有些人运气好，我一个个地回忆着他们的名字，可是我怎么也想不出有谁比我眼下更称心如意的了。

被一个纯洁的少女所爱，第一个向她揭示神秘之爱的奥秘；当然，这是一种极大的幸福，但这也是世界上最简单不过的事情。赢得一颗没有谈过恋爱的心，这就等于进入一个没有设防的城市。教育、责任感和家庭都是最机警的哨兵，但是一个十六岁的少女，任何机警的哨兵都免不了会被她骗过的，大自然通过她心爱的男子的声音对她作第一次爱情的启示，这种启示越是显得纯洁，它的力量也就越是猛烈。

少女越是相信善良就越是容易失身，如果不是失身于情人的话，至少是失身于爱情。因为一个人丧失了警惕就等于失去了力量，得到这样一个少女的爱情虽说是一个胜利，但这种胜利是任何一个二十五岁的男子想什么时候要就什么时候能够到手的。在这些少女的周围，确实是戒备森严。但是要把所有这些可爱的小鸟关在连鲜花也不必费心往里抛的笼子里，修道院的围墙还不够高，母亲的看管还不够严，宗教戒条的作用还不够持久。因此，这些姑娘们该有多么向往别人不让她们知道的外部世界啊！她们该有多么相信这个世界一定是非常引人入胜的，当她们第一次隔着栅栏听到有人来向她们倾诉爱情的秘密时该有多么高兴，对第一次揭开那神奇帐幕一角的那只手，她们该是怎样地祝福它啊！

但是要真正地被一个妓女所爱，那是一个极其难得的胜利，她们的肉体腐蚀了灵魂，情欲灼伤了心灵，放纵的生活养成了她们的铁石心肠。别人对她们讲的话，她们早已听腻了，别人使用的手腕她们也都熟悉，她们即使有过爱情也已经卖掉了。她们的爱情不是出于感情，而是为了金钱。她们工于心计，因此远比一个被母亲和修道院看守着的处女防范得周密。她们把那些不在做生意范围之内的爱情叫做逢场作戏，她们经常会有一些这样的爱情，她们把这种爱情当作消遣，当作借口，当作安慰，就好像那些放高利贷的人，他们盘剥了成千的人，有一天他借了二十个法郎给一个快要饿死的穷人，没有要他付利息，没有逼着他写借据，就自以为罪已经赎清了。

再说，当天主允许一个妓女萌发爱情的时候，这个爱情，开始时好像是一个宽恕，后来几乎总是变成一种对她的惩罚。没有忏悔就谈不上宽恕。如果一个女人过了一段应该受到谴责的生活，突然觉得自己有了一种深刻的、真诚的、不能自制的爱情，这种她从来以为不可能有的爱情，当她承认这个爱情的时候，那个被她爱的男子就可以统治她了！这个男子有多么得意，因为他有权对她说，“您的爱情跟做买卖也差不离”。然而，这是一种残酷的权利。

这时候她们真不知道怎样来表明她们的真心。有一个寓言讲过：一个孩子跟农民们恶作剧，一直在田野里叫“救命啊，熊来啦！”闹着玩。有一天熊真的来了，那些被他骗过的人这一次不再相信他的呼救声，他终于被熊吃掉了；这就像那些可怜的姑娘萌发了真正的爱情的时候一样。她们说谎次数太多，以致别人不再相信她们了，她们后悔莫及地葬身于她们自己的爱情之中。

因此，也会有一些真正忠于爱情，认真从良的妓女。

但是，当一个激起这种超脱的爱情的男子有一颗宽宏的心，愿意接受这个女人而不去回忆她的过去，当他投身于这个爱情之中；总之，当他被她所爱一样地爱上了她时，这个人顿时就享尽了人间所有美好的感情，经过这次爱情以后，他再也不会爱上别人了。

在没有经历过以后发生的那些事情之前，我是不可能预感到这些想法的，所以尽管我爱着玛格丽特，却没有产生过相似的念头，今天我才有了这些想法。一切都过去了，这些想法是已经发生的事所产生的自然后果。

现在还是回到我们这段恋情的第一天来吧。当我回家的时候，我欣喜若狂。想到我原来想象存在于玛格丽特和我之间的障碍已经消失，想到我已得到了她，想到我在她脑子里已经有了一定的地位，想到她的房间的钥匙在我口袋里，并且我还有权利使用这把钥匙，我感到人生非常美满，我踌躇满志，我赞美天主，是他赐给了我这一切。

一天，一个年轻人走过一条街，他碰见一个女人，他望了望她，转身就走了。他不认得这个女人。这个女人有她的快乐、她的悲哀和她的爱情，跟他毫不相干。她的心目中也没有他这个人，如果他要跟她搭话，她也许会像玛格丽特嘲笑我一样地嘲笑他。几个星期，几个月，几年过去了。突然，在他们听从着各自的命运在不同的道路上行走的时候，一个偶然的机缘使他们重新相会。这个女人爱上了他，成了这个男人的情妇。这两个青年从此就难分难舍，形影不离，这是怎么回事，这又是为什么？一旦他们爱上了，就仿佛这个爱情由来已久，所有往事在这两个情人的脑海中都消失了，我们承认这是很奇怪的。

至于我，我也记不起这天晚上以前我是怎样生活过来的，一想到这第一个晚上我们俩谈的话，我全身舒坦。要么是玛格丽特善于骗人，要么她对我有一股突如其来的热情，这种热情在第一次接吻时就显露了出来，不过后来有过几次，这种激情又像它迸发时那样遽然地熄灭了。

我越想越觉得玛格丽特没有任何理由来假装爱我，我还想到女人有两种恋爱方式，这两种方式可以互为因果：她们不是从心底里爱人就是因感官的需要而爱人。一个女人接受一个情人一般只是为了服从她感官上的需要，她不知不觉地懂得了超肉欲爱情的神秘性，并且在以后只是靠精神爱情来生活；通常一个年轻的姑娘，起初只认为婚姻是双方纯洁感情的结合，后来才突然发现了肉体的爱情，也就是精神上最纯洁的感情所产生的有力的结果。

我想着想着慢慢地睡着了。玛格丽特的来信把我唤醒了，信里面写着这样几句话：

这是我的命令：今天晚上在歌舞剧院见面，请

在第三次幕间休息时来找我。

玛·戈

我把信放进抽屉里锁了起来。我这人有时候会神思恍惚，这样做了就可以在日后疑心是否真有此事时，有个实实在在的凭据。

她没有叫我在白天去看她，我也不敢贸然到她家里去；但是我实在想在傍晚以前就看到她，于是我就到香榭丽舍大街去。和昨天一样，我又在那里看见她经过，并在那里下了马车。

七点钟，我就到了歌舞剧院①。

①歌舞剧院：一七九一年始建于王宫附近，一八三八年被烧毁，一八六八年重建于交易所广场，后来又迁至嘉布遣纳大街。

 

我从未这样早到剧院里去过。

那些包厢里慢慢地都坐满了人，只有一个包厢是空的：底层台前包厢。

第三幕开始的时候，我听见那个包厢里有开门的声响，我的眼睛几乎没有离开过这个包厢，玛格丽特出现了。

她马上走到包厢前面，往正厅前座里寻找，看到我以后，就用目光向我表示感谢。

这天晚上她有多美啊！

她是为了我才打扮得这样漂亮的吗？难道她爱我已经爱到了这般地步，认为她越是打扮得漂亮，我就越感到幸福吗？这我还不知道，但假使她真的是这样想的话，那么她是成功了，因为当她出现的时候，观众的脑袋像一片波涛似的纷纷向她转去，连舞台上的演员也对着她望，因为她刚一露面就使观众为之倾倒。

而我身上却有着这个女人的房门钥匙，三四个小时以后，她又将是我的了。

人们都谴责那些为了女戏子和妓女而倾家荡产的人，使我奇怪的倒是，他们怎么没有更进一步地为这些女人做出更加荒唐的事来呢。一定要像我这样地投入到这种生活里去，才能了解到，只有她们在日常生活中满足她们情人的各种微小的虚荣心，才能巩固情人对她们的爱情——我们只能说“爱情”，因为找不到别的字眼。

接着是普律当丝在她的包厢里坐了下来，还有一个男人坐在包厢后座，就是我认识的那位G伯爵。

一看到他，我感到浑身冰冷。

玛格丽特一定发现了她包厢里的男人影响了我的情绪，因为她又对我笑了笑，然后把背转向伯爵，显得一门心思在看戏。到了第三次幕间休息时，她转回身去，说了几句话，伯爵离开了包厢，于是玛格丽特做手势要我过去看她。

“晚安，”我进去的时候她对我说，同时向我伸过手来。

“晚安，”我向玛格丽特和普律当丝说。

“请坐。”

“那我不是占了别人的座位啦，G伯爵不来了吗？”

“他要来的，我叫他去买蜜饯，这样我们可以单独谈一会儿，迪韦尔诺瓦夫人是信得过的。”

“是啊，我的孩子们，”迪韦尔诺瓦夫人说，“放心好了，我什么也不会讲出去的。”

“您今天晚上怎么啦？”玛格丽特站起来，走到包厢的阴影里搂住我，吻了吻我的额头。

“我有点不舒服。”

“您应该去睡一会儿才好，”她又说，她那俏皮的神色跟她那娇小玲珑的脑袋极为相配。

“到哪里去睡？”

“您自己家里呀！”

“您很清楚我在自己家里是睡不着的。”

“那么您就不该因为看见有一个男人在我的包厢里就来给我看脸色呀。”

“不是为了这个原因。”

“是这个原因，我一看就知道，您错了，我们别再谈这些事了。散戏后您到普律当丝家里去，一直等到我叫您，您听明白了吗？”

“听明白了。”

我难道能不服从吗？

“您仍然爱我吗？”她问。

“这还用问吗？”

“您想我了吗？”

“整天都在想。”

“我真怕我真的爱上您了，您知道吗？还是问问普律当丝吧。”

“啊！”那个女胖子回答说，“那可真叫人受不了。”

“现在，您回到您的位子上去，伯爵要回来了，没有必要让他在这里看见您。”

“为什么？”

“因为您看到他心里不痛快。”

“没有的事，不过如果您早跟我讲今天晚上想到歌舞剧院来，我也会像他一样把这个包厢的票子给您送来的。”

“不幸的是，我没有向他要他就给我送来了，还提出要陪我来。您知道得很清楚，我是不能拒绝的。我所能做的，就是写信告诉您我在哪里，这样您就可以见到我，因为我自己也很希望早些看到您；既然您是这样感谢我的，我就要记住这次教训。”

“我错了，请原谅我吧。”

“这就太好了，乖乖地回到您的座位上去，再不要吃什么醋了。”

她再一次吻了我，我就走出来了。

在走廊里我遇到了回包厢的伯爵。

我回到了自己的座位上。

其实，G伯爵在玛格丽特的包厢里出现是件极其平常的事。他过去是她的情人，给她送来一张包厢票，陪她来看戏，这一切都是非常自然的事情。既然我有一个玛格丽特那样的姑娘做情妇，当然我就应该容忍她的生活习惯。

这天晚上剩下来的时间我也不见得更好受一些，在看到普律当丝、伯爵和玛格丽特坐上等在剧院门口的四轮马车以后，我也怏怏地走了。

可是一刻钟以后我就到了普律当丝的家里，她也刚好回来。

AT five in the morning, when daylight began to appear through the curtains, Marguerite said to me:

'Forgive me if I shoo you away now, but I must. The Duke comes every morning; when he arrives, he'll be told I'm asleep, and he may wait for me to wake.'

I took Marguerite's head in both my two hands, her loosened hair cascading on to her shoulders, and I gave her one last kiss, saying:

'When will I see you again?'

'Listen, ' she went on, 'take the little gold key on the mantelpiece there and unlock the door. Then bring me back the key and go. Sometime during the day, you'll receive a letter with my instructions, for you know that you must obey blindly.'

'Yes ?but what if I were already to ask you something?'

'What is it?'

'That you leave the key in my keeping.'

'I've never done for anyone what you're asking me to do now.'

'Well, do it for me, for I swear that I do not love you as the others loved you.'

'Very well, keep it. But I warn you that I could at any time see to it that your key served no useful purpose.'

'How?'

'There are bolts on this side of my door.'

'You wicked creature!'

'I'll have them removed.'

'So you do love me a little?'

'I don't know how it is, but it seems I do. And now, go: I'm almost asleep.'

We remained a few moments in each others' arms and then I left.

The streets were deserted, the great city was sleeping still, and a pleasant coolness ran through the neighbourhood which, a few hours later, would be overrun by the noise of men.

I felt as though the sleeping city belonged to me. I ransacked my memory for the names of men whose happiness, up to that moment, I had envied; and I could not recall one without finding that I was happier than he.

To be loved by a chaste young girl, to be the first to show her the strange mystery of love, is a great joy ?but it is the easiest thing in the world. To capture a heart unused to attack is like walking into an open, undefended city. Upbringing, the awareness of duty, and the family, are watchful sentries of course, but there are no sentries, however vigilant, that cannot be eluded by a girl of sixteen to whom nature, through the voice of the man she adores, whispers those first counsels of love which are all the more passionate because they seem so pure.

The more sincere a young girl's belief in goodness, the more easily she gives herself, if not to her lover, then at least to love. Because she is unsuspecting, she is powerless, and to be loved by her is a prize which any young man of twenty-five may have whenever he likes. And to see how true this is, simply consider how much supervision and how many ramparts surround young girls! Convents cannot have walls too high, nor mothers locks too strong, nor religion duties too unrelenting to deep all these charming birds safe in cages which no one even tries to disguise with flowers. And so, how keenly must they want that world which is kept hidden from them! How tempting must they believe it to be! How eagerly must they listen to the first voice which, through the bars of their cage, tells of its secrets! And how gratefully to they bless the first hand which lifts a corner of its mysterious veil!

But to be truly loved by a courtesan is a much more difficult victory to achieve. In such women, the body has consumed the soul, the senses have burnt out the heart, debauchery has buckled stout armour on to feeling. The words you say to them, they first heard long ago; the tactics you use, they have seen before; the very love they inspire in you, they have sold to others. They love because love is their trade, not because they are swept off their feet. They are better guarded by their calculations than a virgin by her mother and her convent. Which is why they have coined the word ' caprice' to describe those non- commercial affairs in which they indulge from time to time as a relief, an excuse or as a consolation. Such women are like money-lenders who fleece large numbers of people, and think they can make amends by lending twenty francs one day to some poor devil who is starving to death, without asking him to pay interest or requiring him to sign a receipt.

But when God allows a courtesan to fall in love, her love, which at first looks like a pardon for her sins, proves almost invariably to be a punishment on her. There is no absolution without penance. When such a creature, who has all the guilt of her past on her conscience, suddenly feels herself gripped by a deep, sincere, irresistible love such as she had never dreamed herself capable of experiencing; when she finally declares her love ?how complete the power of the man she loves! How strong he feels once he has the cruel right to say: 'What you do now for love is no more than you have done for money.'

When this happens, they are at a loss for ways of proving what they feel. A boy in a field who, so the fable goes, persisted in finding it amusing to shout 'Help!' to disturb some workmen, was eaten one fine day by a bear, without it occurring to those he had so often deceived that this time his shouts were real. And so it is with these wretched girls when they genuinely fall in love. They have lied so often that no one believes them any more and, beset by remorse, they are eaten by their love.

Which explains the great self- sacrifices, the austere self-seclusions of which a few such women have afforded examples.

But if a man who inspires such saving love is sufficiently generous of soul to accept it without thought for the past, if he commits himself totally to her, if he really loves as he is loved, then such a man drains in one draught all terrestrial emotions and, after a love like this, his heart is thereafter closed to any other.

It was not then, as I returned home that morning, that these thoughts came to me. They could not in any case have been much more at that point than a presentiment of what was to befall me and, in spite of my love for Marguerite, I did not anticipate any such outcome. But I think these thoughts today: now that it is all irrevocably ended, they emerge naturally from what has been.

But let us return to that first day of our affair. When I reached home, I was wildly exhilarated. Feeling that the barriers which my imagination had erected between Marguerite and me had disappeared, and believing that she was mine, that I had a small place in her thoughts, that I had the key to her apartment in my pocket and permission to use it, I felt pleased with life and pleased with myself, and I praised God who had let it all happen.

One day, a young man walks along a street, comes across a woman, looks at her, turns and looks again, then walks on. This woman, whom he does not know, has pleasures, sorrows, loves in which he has no part. He does not exist for her, and perhaps, if he spoke to her, she would laugh at him just as Marguerite had laughed at me. Weeks, months, years pass by and then, quite unexpectedly, when both have followed their destiny in their separate ways, the logic of chance brings them face to face. The woman becomes the man's mistress and loves him truly. How? Why? Their two lives are now as one: no sooner is their affection sealed than they feel as though it has always existed, and everything that has gone before is blotted from the memory of the two lovers. It really is the oddest thing, you must admit.

For my own part, I could not recall how I had ever lived before the previous evening. My whole being cried out for joy at the memory of the words we had exchanged during that first night. Either Marguerite was skilled at deceit, or she truly felt for me one of those sudden passions which can come with the first kiss but sometimes fade as quickly as they came.

The more I thought about it, the surer I was that Marguerite could have no reason to feign a love she did not feel and, furthermore, I told myself that women have two ways of loving which may derive the one from the other: they love either with their hearts or with their senses. A woman will often take a lover merely to do the bidding of her senses and, without expecting to, acquires knowledge of the mystery of ethereal love, and henceforth lives only through her heart; a young girl, seeking in marriage simply the union of two pure affections, will often acquire the sudden revelation of physical love, the emphatic culmination of the purest impressions of the soul.

I fell asleep in the middle of my thoughts. I was woken by a letter from Marguerite which contained these words:

'These are my orders: This evening at the Vaudeville. Come during the third interval.

M. G.'

I put her note away in a drawer, so that I would always have reality to hand should I ever have doubts, as happened from time to time.

As she did not say that I should go and see her during the day, I dared not call on her; but so great was my desire to meet up with her before that evening that I ventured on to the Champs-Elysees where, like the previous day, I saw her drive up and then down again.

At seven, I was at the Vaudeville.

I had never arrived at a theatre quite so early.

All the boxes filled one after the other. Just one remained unoccupied: the front box in the stalls.

At the start of the third act, I heard someone opening the door to this box, on which I had kept my eyes more or less permanently fixed, and Marguerite appeared.

She immediately came and stood in the front of her box, scanned the stalls, saw me and thanked me with a glance.

She was radiantly beautiful that evening.

Was I the reason why she had taken such care to look her best? Did she love me enough to think that the more beautiful I found her, the happier I would be? I still could not be sure; but if this was her intention, then she fully succeeded. For when she appeared, there was a ripple of turning heads and even the actor who was speaking at that moment looked in the direction of the woman whose entrance had disturbed the audience.

And I had the key to that woman's apartment, and in three or four hours she would be mine once more!

We decry men who ruin themselves for actresses and kept women; what surprises me is that they do not commit twenty times as many follies for them. You need to have lived that kind of life, as I have, to understand just how strongly all those little gratifications of vanity which a mistress provides each day can weld to a man's heart, for want of a better word, the love which he has for her.

Then Prudence took her seat in the box and a man, who I recognized as Count de G, sat down at the back.

When I saw him, my heart went cold.

No doubt Marguerite noticed what effect the presence of this man in her box was having on me, for she smiled at me once more and, turning her back on the Count, appeared to be concentrating hard on the play. When the third interval began, she turned round and spoke briefly; the Count left the box, and Marguerite signalled me to come and see her.

'Good evening, ' she said as I entered, and she held out her hand.

'Good evening, ' I replied, directing the greeting at both Marguerite and Prudence.

'Do sit down.'

'But this is someone's seat. Isn't Count de G coming back?'

'Yes. I sent him off to fetch me some sweets so that we could have a moment alone to talk. Madame Duvernoy knows everything.'

'Yes, my children, 'said she. 'But don't worry. I shan't tell.'

'What's wrong with you this evening?' said Marguerite, rising and coming into the dark back of the box where she kissed me on the forehead.

'I'm not feeling too well.'

'You should go to bed, ' she went on, with that ironic expression which went so well with her fine, quick- witted head.

'Whose?'

'Yours.'

'You know very well that I shan't sleep.'

'In that case, you shouldn't come here sulking just because you saw a man in my box.'

'That's not the reason.'

'Oh yes it is, I know all about such things and you're wrong. Let's not say any more about it. After the play, come to Prudence's and stay there until I call you. Understood?'

'Yes.'

Did I have any choice but to obey?

'Do you still love me?' she went on.

'How can you ask!'

'Have you thought about me?'

'All day long.'

'Do you know something? I'm seriously beginning to be afraid I could fall in love with you. You'd better ask Prudence.'

'Ah!' Prudence cried heartily, 'stop pestering me!'

'Now, you are to go back to your seat in the stalls. The Count will return at any minute and there's nothing to be gained if he finds you here.'

'Why not?'

'Because you don't much like seeing him.'

'It's not that. It's just that if you had told me you wanted to come to the Vaudeville this evening, I could have sent you tickets for a box every bit as well as he could.'

'Unfortunately, he brought them round without my asking him to, and offered to escort me. You know very well I couldn't refuse. The most I could do was to write and let you know where I was going, because then you could see me, and because I wanted to see you sooner rather than later. But if that's the thanks I get, let it be a lesson to me.'

'I was wrong. Do forgive me!'

'Very well. Go back to your seat like a good boy, and for heaven's sake no more jealous scenes!'

She kissed me again, and I left.

In the corridor, I met the Count on his way back.

I returned to my seat.

After all, the presence of Monsier de G in Marguerite's box was the most uncomplicated thing. He had been her lover, he brought her tickets for a box, he came to the play with her it was all very natural, and the moment I took a girl like Marguerite as my mistress, I had no alternative but to accept her ways.

All the same, such considerations did not make me any the less wretched for the rest of the evening, and I felt extremely miserable as I left, having seen Prudence, the Count and Marguerite stepping into the barouche which stood waiting for them at the door.

Even so, a quarter of an hour later I was at Prudence's. She had returned only a moment before.