Daniel Deronda
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER LXIII.
"Moses, trotz seiner Bafeindung der Kunst, dennoch selber ein grosserKünstler war und den wahren Künstlergeist besass. Nur war dieserKünstlergeist bei ihm, wie bei seinen ägyptischen Landsleuteu, nuraufdas Colossale und Unverwustliche gerichtet. Aber nicht vie dieAegypter formirte er seine Kunstwerke aus Backstem und Granit, sonderner baute Menchen-pyramiden, er meisselte Menschen Obelisken, ernahmeinen armen Hirtenstamm und Schuf daraus ein Volk, das ebenfalls denJahrhahunderten, trotzen sollte * * * er Schuf Israel."--HEINE:_Gestandnisse_.
Imagine the difference in Deronda's state of mind when he left England andwhen he returned to it. He had set out for Genoa in total uncertainty howfar the actual bent of his wishes and affections would be encouraged--howfar the claims revealed to him might draw him into new paths, far awayfrom the tracks his thoughts had lately been pursuing with a consent ofdesire which uncertainty made dangerous. He came back with something likea discovered charter warranting the inherited right that his ambition hadbegun to yearn for: he came back with what was better than freedom--with aduteous bond which his experience had been preparing him to accept gladly,even if it had been attended with no promise of satisfying a secretpassionate longing never yet allowed to grow into a hope. But now he daredavow to himself the hidden selection of his love. Since the hour when heleft the house at Chelsea in full-hearted silence under the effect ofMirah's farewell look and words--their exquisite appealingness stirring inhim that deep-laid care for womanhood which had begun when his own lip waslike a girl's--her hold on his feeling had helped him to be blameless inword and deed under the difficult circumstances we know of. There seemedno likelihood that he could ever woo this creature who had become dear tohim amidst associations that forbade wooing; yet she had taken her placein his soul as a beloved type--reducing the power of other fascination andmaking a difference in it that became deficiency. The influence had beencontinually strengthened. It had lain in the course of poor Gwendolen'slot that her dependence on Deronda tended to rouse in him the enthusiasmof self-martyring pity rather than of personal love, and his lessconstrained tenderness flowed with the fuller stream toward an indwellingimage in all things unlike Gwendolen. Still more, his relation to Mordecaihad brought with it a new nearness to Mirah which was not the lessagitating because there was no apparent change in his position toward her;and she had inevitably been bound up in all the thoughts that made himshrink from an issue disappointing to her brother. This process had notgone on unconsciously in Deronda: he was conscious of it as we are of somecovetousness that it would be better to nullify by encouraging otherthoughts than to give it the insistency of confession even to ourselves:but the jealous fire had leaped out at Hans's pretensions, and when hismother accused him of being in love with a Jewess any evasion suddenlyseemed an infidelity. His mother had compelled him to a decisiveacknowledgment of his love, as Joseph Kalonymos had compelled him to adefinite expression of his resolve. This new state of decision wrought onDeronda with a force which surprised even himself. There was a release ofall the energy which had long been spent in self-checking and suppressionbecause of doubtful conditions; and he was ready to laugh at his ownimpetuosity when, as he neared England on his way from Mainz, he felt theremaining distance more and more of an obstruction. It was as if he hadfound an added soul in finding his ancestry--his judgment no longerwandering in the mazes of impartial sympathy, but choosing, with thatpartiality which is man's best strength, the closer fellowship that makessympathy practical--exchanging that bird's eye reasonableness which soarsto avoid preference and loses all sense of quality for the generousreasonableness of drawing shoulder to shoulder with men of likeinheritance. He wanted now to be again with Mordecai, to pour forthinstead of restraining his feeling, to admit agreement and maintaindissent, and all the while to find Mirah's presence without theembarrassment of obviously seeking it, to see her in the light of a newpossibility, to interpret her looks and words from a new starting-point.He was not greatly alarmed about the effect of Hans's attentions, but hehad a presentiment that her feeling toward himself had from the first lainin a channel from which it was not likely to be diverted into love. Toastonish a woman by turning into her lover when she has been thinking ofyou merely as a Lord Chancellor is what a man naturally shrinks from: heis anxious to create an easier transition.
What wonder that Deronda saw no other course than to go straight from theLondon railway station to the lodgings in that small square in Brompton?Every argument was in favor of his losing no time. He had promised to rundown the next day to see Lady Mallinger at the Abbey, and it was alreadysunset. He wished to deposit the precious chest with Mordecai, who wouldstudy its contents, both in his absence and in company with him; and thathe should pay this visit without pause would gratify Mordecai's heart.Hence, and for other reasons, it gratified Deronda's heart. The strongesttendencies of his nature were rushing in one current--the ferventaffectionateness which made him delight in meeting the wish of beings nearto him, and the imaginative need of some far-reaching relation to make thehorizon of his immediate, daily acts. It has to be admitted that in thisclassical, romantic, world-historic position of his, bringing as it werefrom its hiding-place his hereditary armor, he wore--but so, one mustsuppose, did the most ancient heroes, whether Semitic or Japhetic--thesummer costume of his contemporaries. He did not reflect that the drabtints were becoming to him, for he rarely went to the expense of suchthinking; but his own depth of coloring, which made the becomingness, gotan added radiance in the eyes, a fleeting and returning glow in the skin,as he entered the house wondering what exactly he should find. He made hisentrance as noiseless as possible.
It was the evening of that same afternoon on which Mirah had had theinterview with her father. Mordecai, penetrated by her grief, and also thesad memories which the incident had awakened, had not resumed his task ofsifting papers: some of them had fallen scattered on the floor in thefirst moments of anxiety, and neither he nor Mirah had thought of layingthem in order again. They had sat perfectly still together, not knowinghow long; while the clock ticked on the mantelpiece, and the light wasfading, Mirah, unable to think of the food that she ought to have beentaking, had not moved since she had thrown off her dust-cloak and sat downbeside Mordecai with her hand in his, while he had laid his head backward,with closed eyes and difficult breathing, looking, Mirah thought, as hewould look when the soul within him could no longer live in its straitenedhome. The thought that his death might be near was continually visitingher when she saw his face in this way, without its vivid animation; andnow, to the rest of her grief, was added the regret that she had beenunable to control the violent outburst which had shaken him. She satwatching him--her oval cheeks pallid, her eyes with the sorrowfulbrilliancy left by young tears, her curls in as much disorder as a just-awakened child's--watching that emaciated face, where it might have beenimagined that a veil had been drawn never to be lifted, as if it were herdead joy which had left her strong enough to live on in sorrow. And lifeat that moment stretched before Mirah with more than a repetition offormer sadness. The shadow of the father was there, and more than that, adouble bereavement--of one living as well as one dead.
But now the door was opened, and while none entered, a well-known voicesaid: "Daniel Deronda--may he come in?"
"Come! come!" said Mordecai, immediately rising with an irradiated faceand opened eyes--apparently as little surprised as if he had seen Derondain the morning, and expected this evening visit; while Mirah started upblushing with confused, half-alarmed expectation.
Yet when Deronda entered, the sight of him was like the clearness afterrain: no clouds to come could hinder the cherishing beam of that moment.As he held out his right hand to Mirah, who was close to her brother'sleft, he laid his other hand on Mordecai's right shoulder, and stood so amoment, holding them both at once, uttering no word, but reading theirfaces, till he said anxiously to Mirah, "Has anything happened?--anytrouble?"
"Talk not of trouble now," said Mordecai, saving her from the need toanswer. "There is joy in your face--let the joy be ours."
Mirah thought, "It is for something he cannot tell us." But they all satdown, Deronda drawing a chair close in front of Mordecai.
"That is true," he said, emphatically. "I have a joy which will remain tous even in the worst trouble. I did not tell you the reason of my journeyabroad, Mordecai, because--never mind--I went to learn my parentage. Andyou were right. I am a Jew."
The two men clasped hands with a movement that seemed part of the flashfrom Mordecai's eyes, and passed through Mirah like an electric shock. ButDeronda went on without pause, speaking from Mordecai's mind as much asfrom his own--
"We have the same people. Our souls have the same vocation. We shall notbe separated by life or by death."
Mordecai's answer was uttered in Hebrew, and in no more than a loudwhisper. It was in the liturgical words which express the religious bond:"Our God and the God of our fathers."
The weight of feeling pressed too strongly on that ready-winged speechwhich usually moved in quick adaptation to every stirring of his fervor.
Mirah fell on her knees by her brother's side, and looked at his nowilluminated face, which had just before been so deathly. The action was aninevitable outlet of the violent reversal from despondency to a gladnesswhich came over her as solemnly as if she had been beholding a religiousrite. For the moment she thought of the effect on her own life onlythrough the effect on her brother.
"And it is not only that I am a Jew," Deronda went on, enjoying one ofthose rare moments when our yearnings and our acts can be completely one,and the real we behold is our ideal good; "but I come of a strain that hasardently maintained the fellowship of our race--a line of Spanish Jewsthat has borne many students and men of practical power. And I possesswhat will give us a sort of communion with them. My grandfather, DanielCharisi, preserved manuscripts, family records stretching far back, in thehope that they would pass into the hands of his grandson. And now his hopeis fulfilled, in spite of attempts to thwart it by hiding my parentagefrom me. I possess the chest containing them, with his own papers, and itis down below in this house. I mean to leave it with you, Mordecai, thatyou may help me to study the manuscripts. Some of them I can read easilyenough--those in Spanish and Italian. Others are in Hebrew, and, I think,Arabic; but there seem to be Latin translations. I was only able to lookat them cursorily while I stayed at Mainz. We will study them together."
Deronda ended with that bright smile which, beaming out from the habitualgravity of his face, seemed a revelation (the reverse of the continualsmile that discredits all expression). But when this happy glance passedfrom Mordecai to rest on Mirah, it acted like a little too much sunshine,and made her change her attitude. She had knelt under an impulse withwhich any personal embarrassment was incongruous, and especially anythoughts about how Mrs. Grandcourt might stand to this new aspect ofthings--thoughts which made her color under Deronda's glance, and rise totake her seat again in her usual posture of crossed hands and feet, withthe effort to look as quiet as possible. Deronda, equally sensitive,imagined that the feeling of which he was conscious, had entered too muchinto his eyes, and had been repugnant to her. He was ready enough tobelieve that any unexpected manifestation might spoil her feeling towardhim--and then his precious relation to brother and sister would be marred.If Mirah could have no love for him, any advances of love on his partwould make her wretched in that continual contact with him which wouldremain inevitable.
While such feelings were pulsating quickly in Deronda and Mirah, Mordecai,seeing nothing in his friend's presence and words but a blessedfulfillment, was already speaking with his old sense of enlargement inutterance--
"Daniel, from the first, I have said to you, we know not all the pathways.Has there not been a meeting among them, as of the operations in one soul,where an idea being born and breathing draws the elements toward it, andis fed and glows? For all things are bound together in that Omnipresencewhich is the place and habitation of the world, and events are of a glasswherethrough our eyes see some of the pathways. And if it seems that theerring and unloving wills of men have helped to prepare you, as Moses wasprepared, to serve your people the better, that depends on another orderthan the law which must guide our footsteps. For the evil will of manmakes not a people's good except by stirring the righteous will of man;and beneath all the clouds with which our thought encompasses the Eternal,this is clear--that a people can be blessed only by having counsellors anda multitude whose will moves in obedience to the laws of justice and love.For see, now, it was your loving will that made a chief pathway, andresisted the effect of evil; for, by performing the duties of brotherhoodto my sister, and seeking out her brother in the flesh, your soul has beenprepared to receive with gladness this message of the Eternal, 'behold themultitude of your brethren.'"
"It is quite true that you and Mirah have been my teachers," said Deronda."If this revelation had been made to me before I knew you both, I think mymind would have rebelled against it. Perhaps I should have felt then--'IfI could have chosen, I would not have been a Jew.' What I feel now is--that my whole being is a consent to the fact. But it has been the gradualaccord between your mind and mine which has brought about that fullconsent."
At the moment Deronda was speaking, that first evening in the book-shopwas vividly in his remembrance, with all the struggling aloofness he hadthen felt from Mordecai's prophetic confidence. It was his nature todelight in satisfying to the utmost the eagerly-expectant soul, whichseemed to be looking out from the face before him, like the long-enduringwatcher who at last sees the mountain signal-flame; and he went on withfuller fervor--
"It is through your inspiration that I have discerned what may be mylife's task. It is you who have given shape to what, I believe, was aninherited yearning--the effect of brooding, passionate thoughts in manyancestors--thoughts that seem to have been intensely present in mygrandfather. Suppose the stolen offspring of some mountain tribe broughtup in a city of the plain, or one with an inherited genius for painting,and born blind--the ancestral life would lie within them as a dim longingfor unknown objects and sensations, and the spell-bound habit of theirinherited frames would be like a cunningly-wrought musical instrument,never played on, but quivering throughout in uneasy mysterious meanings ofits intricate structure that, under the right touch, gives music.Something like that, I think, has been my experience. Since I began toread and know, I have always longed for some ideal task, in which I mightfeel myself the heart and brain of a multitude--some social captainship,which would come to me as a duty, and not be striven for as a personalprize. You have raised the image of such a task for me--to bind our racetogether in spite of heresy. You have said to me--'Our religion united usbefore it divided us--it made us a people before it made Rabbanites andKaraites.' I mean to try what can be done with that union--I mean to workin your spirit. Failure will not be ignoble, but it would be ignoble forme not to try."
"Even as my brother that fed at the breasts of my mother," said Mordecai,falling back in his chair with a look of exultant repose, as after somefinished labor.
To estimate the effect of this ardent outpouring from Deronda we mustremember his former reserve, his careful avoidance of premature assent ordelusive encouragement, which gave to this decided pledge of himself asacramental solemnity, both for his own mind and Mordecai's. On Mirah theeffect was equally strong, though with a difference: she felt a surprisewhich had no place in her brother's mind, at Deronda's suddenly revealedsense of nearness to them: there seemed to be a breaking of day around herwhich might show her other facts unlike her forebodings in the darkness.But after a moment's silence Mordecai spoke again--
"It has begun already--the marriage of our souls. It waits but the passingaway of this body, and then they who are betrothed shall unite in astricter bond, and what is mine shall be thine. Call nothing mine that Ihave written, Daniel; for though our masters delivered rightly thateverything should be quoted in the name of him that said it--and theirrule is good--yet it does not exclude the willing marriage which meltssoul into soul, and makes thought fuller as the clear waters are madefuller, where the fullness is inseparable and the clearness isinseparable. For I have judged what I have written, and I desire the bodythat I gave my thought to pass away as this fleshly body will pass; butlet the thought be born again from our fuller soul which shall be calledyours."
"You must not ask me to promise that," said Deronda, smiling. "I must beconvinced first of special reasons for it in the writings themselves. AndI am too backward a pupil yet. That blent* transmission must go on withoutany choice of ours; but what we can't hinder must not make our rule forwhat we ought to choose. I think our duty is faithful tradition where wecan attain it. And so you would insist for any one but yourself. Don't askme to deny my spiritual parentage, when I am finding the clue of my lifein the recognition of natural parentage."
"I will ask for no promise till you see the reason," said Mordecai. "Youhave said the truth: I would obey the Master's rule for another. But foryears my hope, nay, my confidence, has been, not that the imperfect imageof my thought, which is an ill-shaped work of the youthful carver who hasseen a heavenly pattern, and trembles in imitating the vision--not thatthis should live, but that my vision and passion should enter into yours--yea, into yours; for he whom I longed for afar, was he not you whom Idiscerned as mine when you came near? Nevertheless, you shall judge. Formy soul is satisfied." Mordecai paused, and then began in a changed tone,reverting to previous suggestions from Deronda's disclosure: "What movedyour parents----?" but he immediately checked himself, and added, "Nay, Iask not that you should tell me aught concerning others, unless it is yourpleasure."
"Some time--gradually--you will know all," said Deronda. "But now tell memore about yourselves, and how the time has passed since I went away. I amsure there has been some trouble. Mirah has been in distress aboutsomething."
He looked at Mirah, but she immediately turned to her brother, appealingto him to give the difficult answer. She hoped he would not think itnecessary to tell Deronda the facts about her father on such an evening asthis. Just when Deronda had brought himself so near, and identifiedhimself with her brother, it was cutting to her that he should hear ofthis disgrace clinging about them, which seemed to have become partly his.To relieve herself she rose to take up her hat and cloak, thinking shewould go to her own room: perhaps they would speak more easily when shehad left them. But meanwhile Mordecai said--
"To day there has been a grief. A duty which seemed to have gone far intothe distance, has come back and turned its face upon us, and raised nogladness--has raised a dread that we must submit to. But for the moment weare delivered from any visible yoke. Let us defer speaking of it as ifthis evening which is deepening about us were the beginning of thefestival in which we must offer the first fruits of our joy, and mingle nomourning with them."
Deronda divined the hinted grief, and left it in silence, rising as he sawMirah rise, and saying to her, "Are you going? I must leave almostimmediately--when I and Mrs. Adam have mounted the precious chest, and Ihave delivered the key to Mordecai--no, Ezra,--may I call him Ezra now? Ihave learned to think of him as Ezra since I have heard you call him so."
Even a man who has practised himself in love-making till his own glibnesshas rendered him sceptical, may at last be overtaken by the lover's awe--may tremble, stammer, and show other signs of recovered sensibility nomore in the range of his acquired talents than pins and needles afternumbness: how much more may that energetic timidity possess a man whoseinward history has cherished his susceptibilities instead of dulling them,and has kept all the language of passion fresh and rooted as the lovelyleafage about the hill-side spring!
As for Mirah her dear head lay on its pillow that night with its formersuspicions thrown out of shape but still present, like an ugly story whichhad been discredited but not therefore dissipated. All that she wascertain of about Deronda seemed to prove that he had no such fetters uponhim as she had been allowing herself to believe in. His whole manner aswell as his words implied that there were no hidden bonds remaining tohave any effect in determining his future. But notwithstanding thisplainly reasonable inference, uneasiness still clung about Mirah's heart.Deronda was not to blame, but he had an importance for Mrs. Grandcourtwhich must give her some hold on him. And the thought of any closeconfidence between them stirred the little biting snake that had long laincurled and harmless in Mirah's gentle bosom.
But did she this evening feel as completely as before that her jealousywas no less remote from any possibility for herself personally than if herhuman soul had been lodged in the body of a fawn that Deronda had savedfrom the archers? Hardly. Something indefinable had happened and made adifference. The soft warm rain of blossoms which had fallen just where shewas--did it really come because she was there? What spirit was there amongthe boughs?