When it doesn't cure life, it
cures all desire for voluntary death. Raoul felt no disposition to try
it again when he found himself in a more painful position than that
from which he had just been rescued. He tried to see the countess and
explain to her the nature of his love, which now shone more vividly in
his soul than ever. But the first time they met in society, Madame de
Vandenesse gave him that fixed and contemptuous look which at once and
forever puts an impassable gulf between a man and a woman. In spite of
his natural assurance, Nathan never dared, during the rest of the
winter, either to speak to the countess or even approach her.
But he opened his heart to Blondet; to him he talked of his Laura and
his Beatrice, apropos of Madame de Vandenesse. He even made a
paraphrase of the following beautiful passage from the pen of
Theophile Gautier, one of the most remarkable poets of our day:--
"'Ideala, flower of heaven's own blue, with heart of gold, whose
fibrous roots, softer, a thousandfold, than fairy tresses, strike to
our souls and drink their purest essence; flower most sweet and
bitter! thou canst not be torn away without the heart's blood flowing,
without thy bruised stems sweating with scarlet tears. Ah! cursed
flower, why didst thou grow within my soul?'"
"My dear fellow," said Blondet, "you are raving. I'll grant it was a
pretty flower, but it wasn't a bit ideal, and instead of singing like
a blind man before an empty niche, you had much better wash your hands
and make submission to the powers.
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