|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The Lily of the Valley by Honore de Balzac: the cry of the Mexican: "And I, am I on a bed of roses?" Ever since
that day by the gate of Frapesle, when I attributed to her the hope
that our happiness might spring from a grave, I had turned with shame
from the thought of staining her soul with the desires of a brutal
passion. She now spoke with honeyed lip, and told me that she never
could be wholly mine, and that I ought to know it. As she said the
words I know that in obeying her I dug an abyss between us. I bowed my
head. She went on, saying she had an inward religious certainty that
she might love me as a brother without offending God or man; such love
was a living image of the divine love, which her good Saint-Martin
told her was the life of the world. If I could not be to her somewhat
The Lily of the Valley |
