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The Duchesse De Langeais By: Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850) |
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By Honore De Balzac
Translated by Ellen Marriage Preparer's Note: The Duchesse of Langeais is the second part of a trilogy. Part
one is entitled Ferragus and part three is The Girl with the
Golden Eyes. The three stories are frequently combined under the
title The Thirteen.
To Franz Liszt THE DUCHESSE OF LANGEAIS In a Spanish city on an island in the Mediterranean, there stands a
convent of the Order of Barefoot Carmelites, where the rule instituted
by St. Theresa is still preserved with all the first rigor of the
reformation brought about by that illustrious woman. Extraordinary as
this may seem, it is none the less true. Almost every religious house
in the Peninsula, or in Europe for that matter, was either destroyed or
disorganized by the outbreak of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic
wars; but as this island was protected through those times by the
English fleet, its wealthy convent and peaceable inhabitants were secure
from the general trouble and spoliation. The storms of many kinds which
shook the first fifteen years of the nineteenth century spent their
force before they reached those cliffs at so short a distance from the
coast of Andalusia. If the rumour of the Emperor's name so much as reached the shore of the
island, it is doubtful whether the holy women kneeling in the cloisters
grasped the reality of his dream like progress of glory, or the majesty
that blazed in flame across kingdom after kingdom during his meteor
life. In the minds of the Roman Catholic world, the convent stood out
pre eminent for a stern discipline which nothing had changed; the purity
of its rule had attracted unhappy women from the furthest parts of
Europe, women deprived of all human ties, sighing after the long suicide
accomplished in the breast of God. No convent, indeed, was so well
fitted for that complete detachment of the soul from all earthly things,
which is demanded by the religious life, albeit on the continent of
Europe there are many convents magnificently adapted to the purpose
of their existence. Buried away in the loneliest valleys, hanging
in mid air on the steepest mountainsides, set down on the brink
of precipices, in every place man has sought for the poetry of the
Infinite, the solemn awe of Silence; in every place man has striven to
draw closer to God, seeking Him on mountain peaks, in the depths below
the crags, at the cliff's edge; and everywhere man has found God. But
nowhere, save on this half European, half African ledge of rock could
you find so many different harmonies, combining so to raise the soul,
that the sharpest pain comes to be like other memories; the strongest
impressions are dulled, till the sorrows of life are laid to rest in the
depths. The convent stands on the highest point of the crags at the uttermost
end of the island. On the side towards the sea the rock was once rent
sheer away in some globe cataclysm; it rises up a straight wall from
the base where the waves gnaw at the stone below high water mark. Any
assault is made impossible by the dangerous reefs that stretch far out
to sea, with the sparkling waves of the Mediterranean playing over them.
So, only from the sea can you discern the square mass of the convent
built conformably to the minute rules laid down as to the shape, height,
doors, and windows of monastic buildings. From the side of the town, the
church completely hides the solid structure of the cloisters and their
roofs, covered with broad slabs of stone impervious to sun or storm or
gales of wind. The church itself, built by the munificence of a Spanish family, is the
crowning edifice of the town. Its fine, bold front gives an imposing
and picturesque look to the little city in the sea. The sight of such
a city, with its close huddled roofs, arranged for the most part
amphitheatre wise above a picturesque harbour, and crowned by a glorious
cathedral front with triple arched Gothic doorways, belfry towers, and
filigree spires, is a spectacle surely in every way the sublimest on
earth... Continue reading book >>
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