The Dream (Oxford World's Classics), page 24
She had tossed and turned for two hours in vain, wrapped in her burning sheets, but fell asleep almost as soon as she was sitting down. Her head sank against the backrest, and slid down a little towards her right shoulder. She continued to grasp the silk in her motionless hands, and almost gave the impression that she was carrying on with her work. Looking very pale and serene, she slept on in the lamplight, her bedroom as white and peaceful as a tomb. The great royal bed, with its canopy of faded pink chintz, seemed drained of colour in this light. The chest, wardrobe, and chairs of old oak were the only things that stood out in contrast, appearing as black as mourning against the walls. The minutes went by, and she continued to slumber, pale and serene.
At long last a sound disturbed the silence. Félicien appeared on the balcony, trembling all over, and looking as gaunt as she. His face was marked by anguish, and he was just slipping into the room when he saw her, sunk deep in her armchair, a piteous figure, and yet very beautiful. His heart filled with immense pain, and he fell to his knees, losing himself in sorrowful contemplation. So she was no more then, she had been crushed by grief, and lying there, appeared to weigh nothing at all, a mere feather that the wind might carry away. Her bright, slumbering figure revealed to him her suffering and resignation. He recognized her only by her lily-like grace, the delicate line of her neck rising from narrow shoulders, and her slender face, transfigured like that of a virgin ascending into heaven. Her hair was of the same substance as light, and her snow-white soul shone out through skin of translucent silk. She had all the beauty of those saints who have been set free from their bodies, and he was dazzled by her, and filled with despair. He knelt there, stunned and motionless, his hands clasped together. She did not awaken, and he continued to gaze at her.
A faint breath from Félicien’s lips must have brushed across Angélique’s face. Suddenly her eyes opened wide. She did not move, but gazed at him in turn, smiling as though in a dream. It was he. She recognized him even though he had changed. She thought that she must still be asleep, for she often happened to see him like this as she slumbered, which only intensified her pain on waking.
He held out his hands to her and spoke.
‘My darling, I love you. When they told me you were suffering I rushed over… Here I am, I love you.’
She shivered, and instinctively rubbed her eyes.
‘You needn’t doubt it any longer… I’m here at your feet, and I love you, I love you still.’
She cried out then.
‘Oh, it’s you… I’d given up waiting for you, and yet here you are…’
Groping around uncertainly, she took hold of his hands—as a way of reassuring herself that he was not a wandering vision summoned by her slumbers.
‘You still love me, and I love you, oh, much more than I ever thought I could possibly love!’
They felt dizzy with happiness. It was their first moment of absolute bliss, in which everything was forgotten apart from the certainty of their love, of which they assured one another over and over. Past sorrows and future obstacles all melted away. They did not understand how they had come to be there, but there they were, their sweet tears mingling, their bodies entwined in a chaste embrace, he overwhelmed by pity, and she so wasted by grief that it was as though all he clasped in his arms was a breath of air. In her delighted astonishment she lay there numbly, rapturous and faint-headed in the depths of her armchair, unable to feel her limbs, raising herself up slightly only to slip back again, ecstatic with joy.
‘Oh, my dear lord, my sole wish has been fulfilled: I’ve seen you again before I die.’
He looked up at her in sheer anguish.
‘Die!… I don’t want you to die! I’m here, and I love you!’
She smiled beatifically.
‘I don’t mind dying, knowing that you love me. I’m no longer afraid, I’ll fall asleep just like this, on your shoulder. Tell me again that you love me.’
‘I love you, just as I loved you yesterday, and just as I’ll love you tomorrow… You mustn’t ever doubt it—I’ll love you for all eternity.’
‘Yes, we’ll love one another for all eternity.’
Angélique gazed out blissfully at the white room. A thought was gradually forming in her mind, causing her to grow solemn. She had started to reflect a little, even in the midst of her immense, overwhelming happiness. And there was something that baffled her in it all.
‘If you loved me, why didn’t you come?’
‘Your parents told me that you didn’t love me any more. The news almost killed me. It was only when I found out that you had fallen ill that I made up my mind, even if it meant being turned out of this house whose door was closed to me.’
‘My mother told me too that you no longer loved me, and I believed her… When I met you out with that young lady, I thought that you had decided to obey Monseigneur…’
‘No, I was waiting. But I was a coward, and trembled before him.’
A silence fell. Angélique had sat up straight, and her face was stern, a furrow of anger creasing her brow.
‘So we have both been lied to and misled, in an effort to keep us apart… We were in love, and they tortured us, and nearly killed us… Well, what they’ve done is dreadful, and it releases us from our vows. We’re free.’
Rage and contempt had brought her to her feet. Her illness seemed to fade, and her strength flowed back, as passion and pride reawakened within her. She had thought her dream was dead, and now suddenly it reappeared before her, radiant and alive! To think that they had never tarnished their love, and that the blame lay with others! This restoration of her self-esteem, accompanied by a conviction of certain triumph, filled her with elation, and spurred her towards outright rebellion.
‘Come on then, let’s go,’ she said simply.
She walked spiritedly about the room, bristling with energy and resolve. She was already choosing a coat to put over her shoulders. A lace scarf would do to cover her head.
Félicien had cried out with delight, for she seemed to be anticipating his very own wishes—all he had wanted was to flee with her, but had not been bold enough to say so. Oh, what it would be to go away together, to vanish from sight, and so put an end to all the difficulties and hindrances besetting them! And they had to do this straight away, to forestall any qualms of conscience!
‘Yes, let’s leave at once, my darling. I was coming to fetch you away—I know where we can find a carriage. We will be far away before daybreak, so far away that nobody will be able to catch up with us.’
She opened drawers, and slammed them shut again, without taking anything out, growing more and more agitated. What on earth! She had been in agonies for weeks, striving to banish him from her memory, and even believed that she had managed to do so! But in fact it had all been a waste of time, and she would have to begin this dreadful undertaking afresh! No, she would never have the strength for it. Since they loved one another, it was quite simple: they would marry; no power on earth would ever prise them apart.
‘Let’s see, what do I need to take with me?… Oh, how foolish I was, to have such childish scruples. To think that they stooped so low as to lie to us! I could have died, and they wouldn’t have asked you to come… Do you think I need to bring linen and clothing? Here’s a dress that’s a little warmer… They filled my head with a heap of fancies, and a heap of fears. There’s good, and there’s evil; there are things one can do, and things one can’t; it’s all so complicated and bewildering! They have been telling nothing but lies; these things simply aren’t true. All that matters is to lead a happy life, and to love the one who loves you… Fortune, beauty, youth, you are all these things, my dear lord, and I give myself to you, completely and for all time; you are my only joy, and you may do with me as you please.’
She was filled with exultation as the hereditary fires within her, which seemed to have been extinguished, flared high once more. She thrilled as music rang out; she pictured their royal departure, this son of princes bearing her away to make her queen of some distant realm; and she went with him, clinging to his neck, or lying on his chest, and shuddered with such unworldly passion that her whole body felt faint with bliss. Oh, to be alone together, just the two of them, yielding to the rhythm of galloping hooves; to flee together, and vanish in an embrace!
‘I shouldn’t bring anything with me, should I?… What would be the point?’
Feverish with impatience, he was already standing by the door.
‘No, nothing… Quickly, let’s go.’
‘Yes, of course, let’s go.’
Standing by his side, she turned to take one last look around her room. The lamp burned with the same soft, pale radiance, the bunch of hortensias and hollyhocks still bloomed, and the rose in the middle of her frame, though unfinished, appeared alive, and seemed to await her return. It struck her that the room had never appeared so white, with the white walls, the white bed, and even the air within it all glowing white, as though the room were filled with misty breath.
Something inside her faltered, and she had to clutch the back of a chair to support herself.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Félicien anxiously.
She did not answer; she was struggling to breathe. She started to shiver and, with no strength left in her legs, had to sit down.
‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing… I’ll just rest here for a minute, and then we’ll go.’
They fell silent. She looked around the room as though she had left behind some precious object, but could not recall exactly what it was. A feeling of regret, only faint at first, began to swell inside her, and gradually started to suffocate her. She could no longer remember anything. Was it all this whiteness that kept her here? She had always loved white, so much so that she had stolen scraps of white silk just to be able to gaze on them in secret.
‘Just another minute, one more minute, and we can leave, my dear lord.’
But she was no longer even trying to stand up. Deeply concerned, he knelt down in front of her once more.
‘Are you in pain—is there nothing I can do to help? If you are cold, I’ll take your little feet in my hands and I’ll warm them up until you can run on them again.’
She shook her head.
‘No, no, I’m not cold, I’ll be able to walk… Wait a minute, just a minute.’
It was obvious to him that her limbs were held fast by invisible chains, fixing her there so firmly that, in just a few moments, perhaps, it would be impossible for him to wrench her away. If he didn’t take her away at once, he knew he would have to face the inevitable struggle with his father the next day, and the final rupture between them that he had been trying to avoid for weeks. And so he grew insistent, entreating her urgently.
‘Come now, the roads are pitch-black at this hour. The carriage will bear us away in darkness, and we will travel on and on, cradled in one another’s arms, sleeping soundly, as cosily as in any quilt, with no need to fear the night chills. When day breaks we will carry on in sunshine until we reach a land far away, where everyone is happy… Nobody will know who we are, and we will live our lives hidden away at the bottom of some great garden, and will have no care other than to love each other more with each new day. There we will find flowers as big as trees, and fruit that is sweeter than honey. And we will live on nothing in an eternal springtime; we will live only on kisses, my darling.’
She shivered to hear this ardent outpouring of love, which brought warmth to her cheeks. As the happiness he promised rippled over her she felt faint in her whole being.
‘Oh, wait just a moment, just a short while!’
‘And then, if we grow weary of travelling, we can come back here and raise up the walls of Hautecœur Castle, where we’ll live out our days. It’s my dream… If necessary, we can lavish our entire fortune on it. The keep will once more command the two valleys. We’ll live in the great apartment, between the tower of David and the tower of Charlemagne. We’ll restore the whole colossus to its former glory, the curtain walls, the buildings, and the chapel, with all the raw opulence of those bygone days… And I want us to live as in ancient times, with you a princess, and me a prince, attended by a retinue of men-at-arms and pages. We will be cut off from the world by walls fifteen feet thick, and we’ll dwell in the realm of legend… The sun will sink behind the hills, and we will return from the hunt on great white horses, villagers falling respectfully to their knees as we pass by. The horn rings out, and the drawbridge is lowered. In the evenings, kings sit with us at table. At night, a dais supports our bed, overhung by a canopy like a throne. In the distance soft music plays as we fall asleep in one another’s arms, enveloped in purple and gold.’
Trembling, she smiled now with proud delight, but the pain was already returning, coursing back through her body, erasing the smile from lips that creased in agony. And, as she instinctively waved aside these alluring visions, his fervour intensified, and he tried desperately to seize her in his arms, and make her his.
‘Oh, come away, and be mine!… Let’s escape and forget everything, and be happy.’
She withdrew abruptly from his embrace, in a movement of impulsive rebellion. And, as she stood there, these words slipped from her mouth:
‘No, no, I can’t, I can’t any longer!’
And, ravaged still by inner conflict, she deplored her fate, hesitating and stammering as she spoke:
‘I beg you, be kind, you mustn’t press me, you must wait… I’d like nothing more than to obey you, to prove that I love you, and go off arm-in-arm to wonderful faraway lands, and live together in royal splendour in the castle of your dreams. This all seemed so simple to me, and I so often dreamt up different plans for our escape… But what can I say to you? Now, it seems impossible. It’s as though the door has suddenly been walled up, and I can’t get out.’
He sought to weave his spell over her again, but she waved him to silence.
‘No, don’t say anything… Isn’t it strange! Even as you utter such sweet and tender words, which really ought to win me over, I’m seized by fear instead, and a chill runs through me… My God, what’s the matter with me? Your very words are driving me away from you. If you carry on, I’ll have to stop listening to you, and you’ll have to leave… Wait, wait a moment.’
And she walked slowly around the room, trying to recompose herself, while he remained motionless in despair.
‘I had thought I no longer loved you, but no doubt I was simply upset with you, because, a little while ago, when I saw you at my feet, my heart leapt up, and my first instinct was to run off with you and be your slave… But if I love you, why do you fill me with terror? And who is trying to stop me from leaving this room? It is as though invisible hands have seized hold of my body and every hair on my head.’
She had come to a halt beside the bed, turned and came back towards the wardrobe, and then walked on, stopping to stand in front of each piece of furniture in turn. Undoubtedly she felt some sort of mysterious bond with them. Moreover, the pale walls and the pale swathe of the sloping ceiling appeared to wrap her in a gown of purest white, which she would have wept to remove. All these things seemed to have become part of her very being—her surroundings had entered into her. And she understood this more clearly when she came before her embroidery frame, which stood beside the table in the lamplight. Her heart melted at the sight of the rose she had begun, and which would remain unfinished if she went away like a thief in the night. She called to mind her years of toil, such happy, fruitful years, and the calm and honest habits she had gradually acquired, which revolted at the idea of sin. And day after day, the chill little house of the embroiderers, and the hard-working, virtuous life she led there, hidden away from the world, had reformed a little the blood that ran within her veins.
But as he watched her fall once more under the spell of the objects around her, he knew he must try and hasten their departure.
‘Come on, the minutes are slipping away, and soon we won’t have time.’
But realization burst upon her, and she cried out:
‘It’s already too late… You can see that I can’t go with you. In the past, I was proud and passionate, and would have flung my arms around you, and let you carry me away… But I’ve been changed by those around me, and I’m no longer the person I was… Can you not hear that everything in this room calls out to me to stay? I now rejoice in being obedient.’
He did not speak or reason with her, but simply tried to drag her off as though she were an unruly child. She dodged away from him, and ran over towards the window.
‘For pity’s sake, no! A little earlier, I would have followed you. But that was my last impulse of defiance. Without my knowing it, the humility and renunciation instilled in me have gradually grown stronger. And so, with each revival of my original sin, the struggle has become less bitter, and I have mastered myself more easily. Now it’s all finished, I have triumphed over myself… Oh, my dear lord, I love you so deeply! Let’s not do anything to spoil our happiness. We must submit if we wish to be happy!’
As he took another step towards her, she retreated to the French window, which stood wide open, giving onto the balcony.
‘You wouldn’t want to make me jump… Listen, now, you must try and understand that everything around me is on my side. These things have been speaking to me for a long time, I’ve been able to hear their voices, and they have never spoken as loudly as now… Listen, the whole of the Clos-Marie is urging me not to ruin my life and yours by giving myself to you against your father’s will. That sound of singing is the Chevrotte, its song so clear and sweet that I seem to have been filled with its crystal purity. That soft, low murmuring, as of a crowd—that comes from the whole expanse of earth before us, from the grasses and trees, and all the living things that flourish peacefully on this holy ground, bringing peace to my life. And voices come from further away, too, from the elms in the bishop’s garden, from all those branches blocking out the sky, even the smallest of which is invested in my triumph… And listen now! That great sovereign rumble is my old friend the cathedral, which has been like a tutor to me, ever wakeful through the night. All the stones, all the colonnettes in the windows, all the pinnacles atop the piers, all the flying buttresses of the apse, murmur in a distinctive way, and in a language that I can understand. Listen to what they are saying: that hope endures, even in death. Even in humiliation, love survives, and triumphs… And, finally now, listen! The very air is full of whispering spirits; these are my companions, virgins invisible to the eye, drawing near to us. Listen, listen!’
