by George Sand
before her look and feel: the greatest poet is then the one who invented the least.
But Sténio had at the bottom of the heart the source of all poetry, love; and, thanks to love, he crowned the most beautiful scenes of nature, with great thought, with a Page 70
big image, that of Lélia. That she was beautiful, Lélia, reflected in the mountain waters and in the soul of the poet! As she appeared to him, grave and sublime, in the silvery brilliance of the moon! As his voice rose, full and inspired, in the complaint of the wind, in the air chords of the waterfall, in the magnetic respiration of seeking plants,
call and kiss in the shade of the night, at the hour of sacred mysteries and divine revelations! So Lélia was everywhere, in the air, in the sky, in the waters, in the flowers, in the womb of God. In the reflection of the stars, Sténio saw his moving and penetrating gaze; in the breeze, caught his uncertain words; in the murmur of the wave, his sacred songs, his prophetic tears; in the pure blue of firmament, he thought he saw his thought hovering, sometimes like a winged, pale, uncertain and sad specter; sometimes like an angel bursting with light; sometimes like a hateful demon and mocker. Because Lélia always had something frightening deep in his reveries and fear pressed his harsh sting the young man’s passionate desires.
In the delirium of his wandering nights, in the silence of deserted valleys, he called out with great cries; and when his voice awakened the sleeping echoes, he seemed to hear the voice distant from Lélia who answered him sadly from within clouds. When the sound of his steps frightened some doe crouching under the broom and he heard him shave while fleeing the leaves
dry sparse in the path, he imagined hearing the footsteps light of Lélia and the brushing of her dress stripping the flowers from the bush. And then if some beautiful bird from these countries, the ptarmigan in silvery breast, pink and gray creeper pearl or the dark black francolin without reflections, came sit close to him and look at him calmly and proudly, ready to spread its wings towards the sky, Sténio thought that it was perhaps to be Lélia which flew away in this form towards more free regions.
"Perhaps," he said to himself, going back down to the valley with the gullible terror of a child, maybe I will never find Lélia among men. "
And he blamed himself with dread for having been able to leave her for several hours, although he had dragged her everywhere with him in Page 71
his errands, though he had filled mountains and clouds with her, although he would have populated with his memory and embellished with his appearances the most inaccessible peaks at the foot of man, the spaces most elusive to his hope.
That day he stopped at the entrance to the deep clearing and prepared to retrace his steps, for he saw before him a man and the most beautiful site loses its charm when he who come to dream there is no longer alone.
But the man was handsome and stern as the site. His gaze shone like the rising sun and the first lights of the day, which colored the glacier, also glowed with a reflection splendid the imposing face of the priest. It was Magnus. he seemed to be making deep impressions. Pain and joy painted in him perennially and powerfully. That man seemed to be rejuvenated by enthusiasm.
As soon as he saw Sténio, he ran towards him.
" Well ! young man, he said triumphantly, there you are alone, there you are sad, there you are seeking God! Wife is not anymore !
- Wife ! said Sténio. There is only one for me in the world. But which one are you talking about?
- Of the only woman who ever existed for you and for me in the world, of Lélia! Say, young man, is she alright dead? Did she deny God, returning her soul to the devil?
Have you seen the dark phalanx of the spirits of darkness besiege his bedside and torment his agony? Have you seen bring out his cursed, dark and livid soul, with wings of fire and bloody nails? Ah! now let's breathe! God purged the earth, he plunged Satan back into his chaos. We we can pray, we can hope. See how the sun sets rise joyfully, as the roses of the valley open fresh and ruddy! See how the birds shake their wings humid and resume their development with flexibility! Everything is reborn, everything hopes, everything will live: Lélia is dead!
- Unhappy! exclaimed Sténio taking the priest to the throat, what evil words do you have on your lips?
What thought of delirium and death agitates you? Where do you come from Page 72
you? where did you spend the night? Where do you know what you dare to say? When did you leave Lélia?
- I left Lélia on a gray and cold morning. The day was going to appear. The rooster crowed in a sour voice. His voice rose in silence and struck the inhabited roofs of men as a prophetic curse. The kiss was crying under the deserted porches of the cathedral. I passed along outside arches to get to the home of the woman who dying. The serrated balusters hid their arrows in
the fog and the great statue of the Archangel, which rises from on the east side, bathed her pale forehead in the morning steam.
So I distinctly saw the Archangel waving his big wings of stone like an eagle ready to take its flight, but its feet remained chained to the cement of the cornice, and I heard his voice saying: Lélia is not dead yet!
Then passed an owl that shaved my forehead with its wing wet and who repeated bitterly: Lélia is not dead! And the virgin of white marble, which is enshrined in the niche of east, sighed deeply and said: Again! with a voice so weak that I thought I was dreaming and stopped at several times along the way to make sure I was not under the power of dreams.
- Priest, said Sténio, your reason is disturbed. Of what morning are you talking? Do you know how long Did the things you say happen?
- Since that time, said Magnus, I have seen the sun rise many times in its glory and dart its beautiful rays on that sparkling ice. I can't tell you how many times.
Since Lélia is no longer, I no longer count the days, I do not no longer count the nights, I let my life go by, pure and nonchalant, like the hill stream. My soul is saved ...
- You have lost your mind, praise God! said the young man. You talk about the fatal disease that nearly brought us remove Lélia, a month ago. I see, in fact, at your hair and to your beard, that you've been on the long Mountain. Come with me, unhappy man, I will try to relieve yourself by listening to the story of your pain.
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- My pains are gone, said the priest with a smile
that one would have taken for a heavenly inspiration, so sweet and calm. I live: Lélia is dead. Hear the story of my joy.
When I got to the woman's home, I felt the earth to shiver ; and when I wanted to go up the stairs, the stairs stepped back three times before I could set foot on it. But when the doors opened, I saw a lot of people and I immediately remembered how much a priest should contain have before the world to make God and the priest respect.
I absolutely forgot Lélia. I crossed the apartments without cloudy and fearless. When I entered the last one, I didn't couldn't remember the name of the person I was going to see ; because, I tell you, there were people there, and I felt the look of men that was on me whole. beckybooxxx you the weight of the gaze of men? Is it ever you happened to try to lift it? Oh ! it weighs more than the mountain here; but to know exactly, you have to be priest and wear the robe you see. I remember, it was a cabinet hung in white and full of traps and pitfalls. First i thought i was walking on wool soft and fine of a carpet, I thought I saw white roses in alabaster vases and soft white lights in
matt glass globes. I also thought I saw a woman dressed in white and lying on a white satin bed; but when she turned her livid face towards me, when I met her gaze the charm that hung over me vanished; i live clear around me and I recognized the place where I had been brought.
The roses turned into snakes and twisted on their stems raising their threatening heads towards me. The walls are stained with blood, the vases of perfume filled with tears and I saw that my feet no longer touched the ground. The lamps spewed red flames rising towards the vault in fiery spirals and which suffocated me like
/> remorse. I turned my eyes again to the sofa: it was still Lélia, but she was on a burning stove, she exhaled in excruciating pain. She asked me for save, I remember well; but then I remembered also vain prayers that I had given him in others time, unnecessary tears that I had shed at his feet and the resentment was in my heart. She had lost my soul, Page 74
she had taken God away from me, I was happy to take revenge and lose his soul and take away God in my turn; it is why I cursed and I was saved and God rewarded my courage; for immediately a cloud spread over my sight.
Lélia disappeared, and the snakes too; and the tongues of fire, and the blood, and the tears disappeared and I found myself alone at the foot of the cathedral arches. The day was born, the vapors dissipated a little, the stone archangel then brought to his lips the trumpet that his hand has held still for several centuries: he drew from it a dazzling fanfare in which I distinguished this saving cry: Lélia is no more! The owl re-entered the marquee which served as his retreat, repeating: Lélia is no more! So the virgin of white marble, this virgin that I didn't dare look at when I walked over to her, because that she looked like Lélia, this virgin so pale and so beautiful, who had seven swords in the breast and all the pains of the soul on the forehead fell broken on the steps of the church. I will live a hundred years that I would not forget that. Tell me, did you see trash ?
- I passed last night in front of her, answered Sténio, and I assures you that she is always very beautiful, and that she is well.
- Do not blaspheme, young man, said the priest with a
seriously scary. God would strike you with his curse, he would drive you mad; I'm afraid you already are, because you speak like a being deprived of reason. Do you know what is that man? Do you know what God is?
Do you know the earth, do you know the sky?
- Priest, let me leave you, said Sténio, that the insane wanted to train towards his cave. I cannot listen to your words without terror. You curse Lélia, you condemn her to nothingness, and you dare to speak of God, and you dare to bear the clothes of his ministers!
- Child, said the priest, it's because I fear God, it's because I respect the dress that I wear, that I curse Lélia.
Lélia! my loss, my seduction, my ruin! Lélia, that it was me forbidden to own, to desire even! Lélia! the atrocious and the infamous who came to look for me at the bottom of the sanctuary, which Page 75
violated the sanctity of the altar to intoxicate me with his infernal caresses!…
- You're lying ! exclaimed Sténio with fury. Lélia did not never pursued, never loved!…
- Hey! I know it, said the priest quietly. You don't don't understand: listen, sit with me on the trunk of this larch which serves as a bridge over the abyss. Most near me, your hand in mine, fear nothing.
The tree bends, the torrent rumbles, the chasm foams over there, in this dark depth, just below us: this is
beautiful ! it is the image of life. "
By thus speaking, the insane surrounded Sténio of his arms tense with fever. He was taller than him with his whole head and delirium horribly increased his muscular strength. His gloomy gaze plunged into the abyss and measured its
depth, while his distracted and convulsive hands all seemed ready to rush the young man into it. Despite the danger of this situation, Sténio was so greedy of what it was going to hear, the secrecy which was between Lélia and the priest tortured for so long his jealous soul that he remained quietly seated on the only joist which trembled above the precipice.
This is called the hell bridge. Each gorge, each torrent has its perilous passage decorated with the same emphatic name and passable only to chamois, bold hunters and slender mountain girls.
"Listen, listen," said the priest, "there were two Lélia: you didn't not know that, young man, because you were not a priest, because you had no revelations, no visions, no forebodings. You lived naturally and a big life easy and common; I was a priest, I knew the things of the sky and the earth, I saw Lélia double and complete, woman and idea, hope and reality, body and soul, gift and promise; I saw Lélia such as it left the breast of God: beauty, that is to say temptation; hope, that is to say test; benefit, that is to say lie; understand me you? ... Oh! this is quite clear however and if all men weren't crazy, they would listen to the word of a wise man, they would know the danger, they would distrust the enemy. Oh !
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he was my enemy! he was double, he would sit in the evening in the gallery of the nave, I could see it well, I never knew that too much the place where he used to appear. It was in a rich span, all draped in pale blue velvet; I see her again, that cursed place! It was between two columns slender which carried it suspended between the vault and the ground, on their frail garlands of stone. There were two carved angels,
white as snow, beautiful as hope, which intertwined their white hands and crossed their wings of marble on the escutcheon of the balustrade. It was there she came to sit, woman! She was bending over with a impious calm, she rested her insolent elbow on the foreheads tilted of these two beautiful angels; she was playing with the bangs silver drapery; she was disturbing the curls of her hair, she wore her daring look on the temple, instead of bowing your head and worshiping the Lord. Oh no ! she does not didn't come there to pray, woman! She came to get bored, to be seen as a spectacle, to relax from parties and masquerades, listening for an hour to the accents of the organ and the poetry of the hymns. And all your lilies of the valley, all your dandies, all your useless ones were there, young and old, rich and nobles, following each of their movements with their eyes, watching his least looks, trying to capture his thought in the impenetrable depth of its orbits and moving like damned in their tomb at midnight, to draw
them the woman's envied attention. But she ! but Lélia! Oh how great, how imposing! Like her
disdainfully hovered over them all! As I liked it then, how I blessed her for her pride! As i saw her beautiful under the matt reflection of the candles, pale and serious and proud and
sweet yet! Oh ! you guys didn't own it!
You didn't know what was going on in his heart, his gaze never revealed it to you, you weren't happier than me ! How that thought attached me to it! Say, say!
Have you ever captured his soul? Have you guessed the idea that fermented in his great forehead? Did you dig her brain and delved into the treasures of his thought? No ! you do not haven't done it. Lélia did not belong to you either. You don't know what Lélia is. You saw her smile
sadly or dreaming bored you haven't seen her Page 77
breast swell, her tears flow; his anger, his hatred or his love, you haven't seen them spread! Say, young man, you are not happier than me! If you tell me say the opposite, do you hear, this abyss would not be deep enough to receive you!
- And the other Lélia, what is it then? replied the young man, without the least frightening of the exasperation of Magnus.
- The other Lélia! cried Magnus, striking his forehead.
as if an excruciating pain had arisen there. The other ! it was a hideous monster, a harpy, a specter; and yet it was well the same Lélia; it was only his other half!
- But where did you meet her? said Sténio with concern.
- Oh ! everywhere, said the priest; in the evening when the service was over, when the candles had just gone out and the crowd flowed through the doors of the church, pressed in the footsteps of the woman who was called Lélia and who went away slow and pale, wrapped in his black velvet coat, dragging at his following a procession to which she did not deign to take a look… I followed her too, with my eyes, with my soul, and I felt that I was a priest; I was chained to the foot of the altar; I do not couldn't run around the porch, mingle with the crowd, pick up his glove, steal a rose leaf escaped from his bouquet. I couldn't offer him the water of the holy water and touch his big, slender hands, so soft and beautiful!
- And so cold! said Sténio, drawn by the attention.
This granite, constantly washed by the water which escapes from
the glacier, is not colder than the hand of Lélia, to some time to grab it.
- So you touched her? Said the priest, hugging him with rage. Sténio dominated it by one of these magnetic glances where the will of man is concentrated to the point of subjugating the will of ferocious animals.
"Go on! he said to him ; I order you to continue your story, or, with my gaze, I make you fall into the abyss. "
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The madman paled and resumed his story with the foolish fright of a child.
" Well ! he said in a trembling voice and with a look shy, know what was happening to me then. I denied God, I cursed my destiny, I tore with my nails the laces of the spotless dawn with which I was clothed. Oh ! I was losing my soul, and yet I was struggling ... So ... oh my God, by what tests you made me pass! ... I saw, of bottom of the darkened nave, come a shadow that seemed to split the stone of the coffins. And this shadow, elusive and floating first grew up with my terror and came to grab me in his livid arms. It was a horrible appearance: I remember struggled against her, I implored her in vain, I threw myself at knees before her, as before God.
"Lélia, Lélia!" I said to him. What are you asking me that do you want me? Have I not offered you a profane worship in my heart? Didn't your name mingle on my lips with sacred names of the Virgin and the Angels? Isn't it towards you that my hand launched the waves of incense? Don't i have you placed in heaven next to God himself, asking insatiable? What have I not done for you! What thoughts terrible and impious have I not opened my breast! Oh ! leash-me, let me pray to God, so that tonight he will forgive me and