Dona Perfecta

by Benito Pérez Galdós

  CHAPTER XXIV

  THE CONFESSION

  Meanwhile Rosario--with her heart torn and bleeding, unable to shedtears, unable to be at peace or rest, transpierced by grief as by asharp sword, with her thoughts passing swiftly from the world to God andfrom God to the world, bewildered and half-crazed, her hands clasped,her bare feet resting on the floor--was kneeling, late in the evening,in her own room, beside her bed, on the edge of which she rested herburning forehead, in darkness, in solitude, and in silence. She wascareful not to make the slightest noise, in order not to attract theattention of her mother, who was asleep, or seemed to be asleep, in theadjoining room. She lifted up her distracted thoughts to Heaven in thisform:

  "Lord, my God, why is it that before I did not know how to lie, and nowI know? Why did I not know before how to deceive, and now I deceive? AmI a vile woman? Is this that I feel, is this that is happening to me,a fall from which there can be no arising? Have I ceased to be virtuousand good? I do not recognize myself. Is it I or is it some one elsewho is in this place? How many terrible things in a few days! How manydifferent sensations! My heart is consumed with all it has felt. Lord,my God, dost thou hear my voice, or am I condemned to pray eternallywithout being heard? I am good, nothing will convince me that I am notgood. To love, to love boundlessly, is that wickedness? But no--it isno illusion, no error--I am worse than the worst woman on earth. A greatserpent is within me, and has fastened his poisonous fangs in my heart.What is this that I feel? My God, why dost thou not kill me? Why dostthou not plunge me forever into the depths of hell? It is frightful,but I confess it to the priest--I hate my mother. Why is this? I cannotexplain it to myself. He has not said a word to me against my mother. Ido not know how this is come to pass. How wicked I am! The demons havetaken possession of me. Lord, come to my help, for with my own strengthalone I cannot vanquish myself. A terrible impulse urges me to leavethis house. I wish to escape, to fly from it. If he does not take me, Iwill drag myself after him through the streets. What divine joy is thisthat mingles in my breast with so cruel a grief? Lord God, my father,illumine me. I desire only to love. I was not born for this hatred thatis consuming me. I was not born to deceive, to lie, to cheat. To-morrowI will go out into the streets and cry aloud to all the passers-by: 'Ilove! I hate!' My heart will relieve itself in this way. What happinessit would be to be able to reconcile every thing, to love and respectevery one! May the Most Holy Virgin protect me. Again that terribleidea! I don't wish to think it, and I think it. Ah! I cannot deceivemyself in regard to this. I can neither destroy it nor diminish it--butI can confess it; and I confess it, saying to thee: 'Lord, I hate mymother!'"

  At last she fell into a doze. In her uneasy sleep her imaginationreproduced in her mind all she had done that night, distorting it,without altering it in substance. She heard again the clock of thecathedral striking nine; she saw with joy the old servant fall into apeaceful sleep; and she left the room very slowly, in order to make nonoise; she descended the stairs softly, step by step and on tiptoe, inorder to avoid making the slightest sound. She went into the garden,going around through the servants' quarters and the kitchen; in thegarden she paused for a moment to look up at the sky, which was darkand studded with stars. The wind was hushed. Not a breath disturbedthe profound stillness of the night. It seemed to maintain a fixed andsilent attention--the attention of eyes that look without winking andears that listen attentively, awaiting a great event. The night waswatching.

  She then approached the glass door of the dining-room and lookedcautiously through it, from a little distance, fearing that those withinmight perceive her. By the light of the dining-room lamp she saw hermother sitting with her back toward her. The Penitentiary was on herright, and his profile seemed to undergo a strange transformation, hisnose grew larger and larger, seeming like the beak of some fabulousbird; and his whole face became a black silhouette with angles here andthere, sharp derisive, irritating. In front of him sat Caballuco, whoresembled a dragon rather than a man. Rosario could see his green eyes,like two lanterns of convex glass. This glow, and the imposing figureof the animal, inspired her with fear. Uncle Licurgo and the other threemen appeared to her imagination like grotesque little figures. She hadseen somewhere, doubtless in some of the clay figures at the fairs, thatfoolish smile, those coarse faces, that stupid look. The dragon movedhis arms which, instead of gesticulating, turned round, like the arms ofa windmill, and the green globes, like the lights of a pharmacy, movedfrom side to side. His glance was blinding. The conversation appearedto be interesting. The Penitentiary was flapping his wings. He was apresumptuous bird, who tried to fly and could not. His beak lengtheneditself, twisting round and round. His feathers stood out, as if withrage; and then, collecting himself and becoming pacified, he hid hisbald head under his wings. Then the little clay figures began to move,wishing to be persons, and Frasquito Gonzalez was trying to pass for aman.

  Rosario felt an inexplicable terror, witnessing this friendlyconference. She went away from the door and advanced, step by step,looking around her to see if she was observed. Although she saw no one,she fancied that a million eyes were fastened upon her. But suddenly herfears and her shame were dispelled. At the window of the room occupiedby Senor Pinzon appeared a man, dressed in blue; the buttons on his coatshone like rows of little lights. She approached. At the same instantshe felt a pair of arms with galloons lift her up as if she werea feather and with a swift movement place her in the room. All waschanged. Suddenly a crash was heard, a violent blow that shook the houseto its foundations. Neither knew the cause of the noise. They trembledand were silent.

  It was the moment in which the dragon had broken the table in thedining-room.