Justine 淑女的眼泪 Chapter 13

So obscure were these speeches I knew not how to answer: however, reply to him I did, on a chance, as it were, and perhaps with too great a facility. Must I confess it? Alas¹! yes; to conceal² my shortcomings would be to wrong your confidence and poorly to respond to the interest my misfortunes have quickened in you. Hear then, Madame, of the one deliberate fault with which I have to reproach myself.... What am I saying, a fault? It was a folly³, an extravagance... there has never been one to equal it; but at least it is not a crime, it is merely a mistake, for which I alone have been punished, and of which it surely does not seem that the equitable⁴ hand of Heaven had to make use in order to plunge⁵ me into the abyss which yawned beneath me soon afterward⁶.

 

Whatever the foul⁷ treatment to which the Comte de Bressac had exposed me the first day I had met him, it had, all the same, been impossible to see him so frequently without feeling myself drawn⁸ toward him by an insuperable and instinctive⁹ tenderness. Despite all my recollections of his cruelty, all my thoughts upon his disinclinations toward women, upon the depravity of his tastes, upon the gulf¹⁰ which separated us morally, nothing in the world was able to extinguish this nascent¹¹ passion, and had the Count called upon me to lay down my life, I would have sacrificed it for him a thousand times over. He was far from suspecting my sentiments... he was far, the ungrateful one, from divining the cause of the tears I shed every day; nevertheless, it was out of the question for him to be in doubt of my eagerness to fly to do his every bidding, to please him in every possible way, it could not have been he did not glimpse, did not have some inkling of my attentions; doubtless, because they were instinctive, they were also mindless, and went to the point of serving his errors, of serving them as far as decency¹² permitted, and always of hiding them from his aunt. This behavior had in some sort won me his confidence, and all that came from him was so precious to me, I was so blinded by the little his heart offered me, that I sometimes had the weakness to believe he was not indifferent to me. But how promptly¹³ his excessive disorders¹⁴ disabused¹⁵ me: they were such that even his health was affected¹⁶. I several times took the liberty to represent to him the dangers of his conduct, he would hear me out patiently, then end by telling me that one does not break oneself of the vice¹⁷ he cherished.

 

"Ah, Therese!" he exclaimed one day, full of enthusiasm, "if only you knew this fantasy's charms, if only you could understand what one experiences from the sweet illusion of being no more than a woman! incredible inconsistency I one abhors¹⁸ that sex, yet one wishes to imitate it! Ah! how sweet it is to succeed, Therese, how delicious it is to be a slut to everyone who would have to do with you and carrying delirium¹⁹ and prostitution to their ultimate period, successively, in the very same day, to be the mistress of a porter, a marquis, a valet, a friar, to be the beloved of each one after the other, caressed²⁰, envied, menaced, beaten, sometimes victorious²¹ in their arms, sometimes a victim and at their feet, melting them with caresses²², reanimating them with excesses.... Oh no, Therese, you do not understand what is this pleasure for a mind constructed like mine....

 

But, morals aside, if you are able to imagine this divine whimsy's physical sensations, there is no withstanding it, it is a titillation²³ so lively, it is of so piquant²⁴ a voluptuousness²⁵... one becomes giddy, one ceases to reason, stammers²⁶; a thousand kisses one more tender than the next do not inflame²⁷ us with an ardor²⁸ in any way approaching the drunkenness into which the agent plunges²⁹ us; enlaced in his arms, our mouth glued to his, we would that our entire being were incorporated into his; we would not make but a single being with him; if we dare complain, 'tis of being neglected; we would have him, more robust³⁰ than Hercules, enlarge us, penetrate³¹ us; we would have that precious semen, shot blazing to the depths of our entrails, cause, by its heat and its strength, our own to leap forth³² into his hands.... Do not suppose, Therese, we are made like other men; 'tis an entirely³³ different structure we have; and, in creating us, Heaven has ornamented³⁴ the altars at which our Celadons sacrifice with that very same sensitive membrane³⁵ which lines your temple of Venus; we are, in that sector³⁷, as certainly women as you are in your generative sanctuary³⁸; not one of your pleasures is unknown to us, there is not one we do not know how to enjoy, but we have in addition to them our own, and it is this delicious combination which makes us of all men on earth the most sensitive to pleasure, the best created to experience it; it is this enchanting³⁹ combination which renders our tastes incorrigible⁴⁰, which would turn us into enthusiasts⁴¹ and frenetics were one to have the stupidity to punish us... which makes us worship, unto the grave itself, the charming God who enthralls⁴² us."

 

Thus the Count expressed himself, celebrating his eccentricities⁴³; when I strove to speak to him of the Being to whom he owed everything, and of the grief such disorders caused his respectable aunt, I perceived nothing in him but spleen and ill-humor and especially impatience⁴⁴ at having to see, in such hands and for so long, riches which, he would say, already ought to belong to him; I saw nothing but the most inveterate⁴⁵ hatred⁴⁶ for that so gentle woman, nothing but the most determined⁴⁷ revolt against every natural sentiment. It would then be true that when in one's tastes one has been able so formally to transgress⁴⁸ that law's sacred instinct, the necessary consequence of this original crime is a frightful⁴⁹ penchant⁵⁰ to commit every other.

 

Sometimes I employed the means Religion provides; almost always comforted by it, I attempted to insinuate⁵¹ its sweetnesses into this perverse⁵² creature's soul, more or less certain he could be restrained by those bonds were I to succeed in having him strike at the lure⁵³; but the Count did not long tolerate my use of such weapons. A declared enemy of our most holy mysteries, a stubborn critic of the purity of our dogmas, an impassioned antagonist⁵⁴ of the idea of a Supreme⁵⁵ Being's existence, Monsieur de Bressac, instead of letting himself be converted by me, sought rather to work my corruption⁵⁶.

 

"All religions start from a false premise⁵⁷, Therese," he would say; "each supposes as necessary the worship of a Creator, but that creator never existed. In this connection, put yourself in mind of the sound precepts⁵⁸ of that certain Coeur-de-fer who, you told me, used to labor⁵⁹ over your mind as I do; nothing more just, nor more precise, than that man's principles, and the degradation⁶⁰ in which we have the stupidity to keep him does not deprive him of the right to reason well.

 

"If all Nature's productions are the resultant effects of the laws whereof she is a captive; if her perpetual action and reaction suppose the motion necessary to her essence, what becomes of the sovereign master fools gratuitously⁶² give her? that is what your sagacious instructor⁶³ said to you, dear girl. What, then, are religions if not the restraint wherewith the tyranny of the mightier⁶⁴ sought to enslave the weaker? Motivated by that design, he dared say to him whom he claimed the right to dominate, that a God had forged the irons with which cruelty manacled him; and the latter, bestialized by his misery⁶⁵, indistinctly believed everything the former wished. Can religions, born of these rogueries, merit respect? Is there one of them, Therese, which does not bear the stamp of imposture⁶⁶ and of stupidity? What do I descry⁶⁷ in them all? Mysteries which cause reason to shudder⁶⁸, dogmas which outrage⁶⁹ Nature, grotesque⁷⁰ ceremonies which simply inspire derision and disgust.

 

But if amongst them all there were one which most particularly deserves our scorn and hatred, O Therese, is it not that barbaric law of the Christianity into which both of us were born? Is there any more odious⁷¹? one which so spurs both the heart and mind to revolt? How is it that rational men are still able to lend any credence⁷² to the obscure mutterings, to the alleged⁷³ miracles of that appalling⁷⁴ cult⁷⁵'s vile⁷⁶ originator? Has there ever existed a rowdy scoundrel more worthy⁷⁷ of public indignation! What is he but a leprous Jew who, born of a slut and a soldier in the world's meanest stews⁷⁸, dared fob himself off for the spokesman of him who, they say, created the universe! With such lofty pretensions⁷⁹, you will have to admit, Therese, at least a few credentials⁸⁰ are necessary. But what are those of this ridiculous Ambassador? What is he going to do to prove his mission? Is the earth's face going to be changed? are the plagues which beset⁸¹ it going to be annihilated⁸²? is the sun going to shine upon it by night as well as by day? vices⁸³ will soil it no more? Are we going to see happiness reign⁶¹ at last?... Not at all; it is through hocus-pocus, antic capers⁸⁴, and puns...

 

(The Marquis de Bievre never made one quite as clever as the Nazarene's to his disciple⁸⁵: "Thou art Peter and upon this Rock I will build my Church"; and they tell Us that witty⁸⁶ language is one of our century's innovations!)

 

...that God's envoy⁸⁷ announces himself to the world; it is in the elegant society of manual laborers⁸⁸, artisans, and streetwalkers that Heaven's minister comes to manifest his grandeur⁸⁹; it is by drunken carousing⁹⁰ with these, bedding with those, that God's friend, God himself, comes to bend the toughened sinner to his laws; it is by inventing nothing for his farces⁹¹ but what can satisfy either his lewdness⁹² or his gourmand's guts⁹³ that the knavish⁹⁴ fellow demonstrates his mission; however all that may be, he makes his fortune; a few beef-witted satellites gravitate toward the villain⁹⁵; a sect³⁶ is formed; this crowd's dogmas manage to seduce⁹⁶ some Jews; slaves of the Roman power, they joyfully⁹⁷ embrace a religion which, ridding them of their shackles⁹⁸, makes them subject to none but a metaphysical tyranny.

 

Their motives⁹⁹ become evident, their indocility unveils itself, the seditious louts are arrested; their captain perishes, but of a death doubtless much too merciful for his species of crime, and through an unpardonable lapse¹⁰⁰ of intelligence, this uncouth¹⁰¹ boor's disciples¹⁰² are allowed to disperse¹⁰³ instead of being slaughtered¹⁰⁴ cheek to jowl with their leader. Fanaticism¹⁰⁵ gets minds in its grip, women shriek¹⁰⁶, fools scrape and scuffle, imbeciles believe, and lo! the most contemptible¹⁰⁷ of beings, the most maladroit¹⁰⁸ quacksalver, the clumsiest impostor ever to have made his entrance, there he is: behold¹⁰⁹! God, there's God's little boy, his papa's peer; and now all his dreams are consecrated¹¹⁰ I and now all his epigrams are become dogmas! and all his blunders mysteries! His fabulous¹¹¹ father's breast opens to receive him and that Creator, once upon a time simple, of a sudden becomes compound, triple, to humor his son, this lad so worthy of his greatness; but does that sacred God stick at that? No, surely not, his celestial¹¹² might is going to bestow¹¹³ many another and greater favor.

 

At the beck and call of a priest, of, that is to say, an odd fellow foul with lies, the great God, creator of all we behold, is going to abase¹¹⁴ himself to the point of descending¹¹⁵ ten or twelve million times every morning in a morsel¹¹⁶ of wheat paste; this the faithful devour¹¹⁷ and assimilate, and God Almighty¹¹⁸ is lugged¹²⁰ to the bottom of their intestines¹²¹ where he is speedily transmuted¹²² into the vilest¹²³ excrements, and all that for the satisfaction of the tender son, odious inventor of this monstrous¹²⁴ impiety¹²⁵ which had its beginnings in a cabaret supper.

 

He spake, and it was ordained¹²⁶. He said: this bread you see will be my flesh; you will digest it as such; now, I am God; hence, God will be digested by you; hence, the Creator of Heaven and Earth will be changed, because I have spoken, into the vilest stuff the body of man can exhale¹²⁷, and man will eat his God, because this God is good and because he is omnipotent¹²⁸. However, these blatherings increase; their growth is attributed to their authenticity¹²⁹, their greatness, their sublimity¹³⁰ to the puissance of him who introduced them, while in truth the commonest causes double their existence, for the credit error acquires never proved anything but the presence of swindlers on the one side and of idiots on the other. This infamous¹³¹ religion finally arrives on the throne, and it is a weak, cruel, ignorant and fanatical emperor who, enveloping¹³² it in the royal mantle¹³³, soils the four corners of the earth with it. 0 Therese, what weight are these arguments to carry with an inquiring and philosophic¹³⁴ mind? Is the sage¹³⁵ able to see anything in this appalling heap of fables¹³⁶ but the disgusting fruit of a few men's imposture and the diddled credulity of a vast number? had God willed it that we have some religion or other, and had he been truly powerful or, to frame it more suitably, had there truly been a God, would it have been by these absurd means he would have imparted his instructions to us? Would it have been through the voice of a contemptible bandit he would have shown how it were necessary to serve him? Were he supreme, were he mighty¹¹⁹, were he just, were he good, this God you tell me about, would it be through enigmas¹³⁷ and buffooneries he would wish to teach me to serve and know him? Sovereign mover of the stars and the heart of man, may he not instruct us by employing the one or convince us by graving himself in the other? Let him, one of these days, upon the Sun indite¹³⁸ the law, writ¹³⁹ out in letters of fire, the law as he wants us to understand it, in the version that pleases him; then from one end of the universe to the other, all mankind will read it, will behold it at once, and thereafter will be guilty if they obey it not. But to indicate his desires nowhere but in some unknown corner of Asia; to select for witnesses the craftiest¹⁴⁰ and most visionary of people, for alter ego¹⁴¹ the meanest artisan, the most absurd, him of the greatest rascality¹⁴²; to frame his doctrine¹⁴³ so confusedly it is impossible to make it out; to limit knowledge of it to a small group of individuals; to leave the others in error and to punish them for remaining there.... Why, no, Therese, no, these atrocities¹⁴⁴ are not what we want for our guidance; I should prefer to die a thousand deaths rather than believe them. When atheism¹⁴⁵ will wish for martyrs¹⁴⁶, let it designate them; my blood is ready to be shed. Let us detest¹⁴⁷ these horrors, Therese; let the most steadfast¹⁴⁸ outrages¹⁴⁹ cement the scorn which is patently their due.... My eyes were barely open when I began to loathe¹⁵⁰ these coarse reveries; very early I made it a law unto myself to trample¹⁵¹ them in the dust, I took oath to return to them never more; if you would be happy, imitate me; as do I, hate, abjure¹⁵², profane¹⁵³ the foul object of this dreadful cult; and this cult too, created for illusion, made like him to be reviled¹⁵⁴ by everyone who pretends to wisdom."

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