the crime of sylvestre bonnard(西维斯特·博拉德的罪行)-第3章
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With what surprise； with what emotion； with what anxiety did I therein
discover the following mention； which I cannot even now copy without
feeling my hand tremble：
〃LA LEGENDE DOREE DE JACQUES DE GENES （Jacques de
Voragine）； traduction francaise； petit in…4。
〃This MS。 of the fourteenth century contains； besides the tolerably
complete translation of the celebrated work of Jacques de Voragine； 1。 The
Legends of Saints Ferreol； Ferrution； Germain； Vincent； and Droctoveus； 2。
A poem 'On the Miraculous Burial of Monsieur Saint…Germain of
Auxerre。' This translation； as well as the legends and the poem； are due to
the Clerk Alexander。
〃This MS。 is written upon vellum。 It contains a great number of
illuminated letters； and two finely executed miniatures； in a rather
imperfect state of preservation：one represents the Purification of the
Virgin； and the other the Coronation of Proserpine。〃
What a discovery！ Perspiration moistened my forehead； and a veil
seemed to come before my eyes。 I trembled； I flushed； and； without being
able to speak； I felt a sudden impulse to cry out at the top of my voice。
What a treasure！ For more than forty years I had been making a special
study of the history of Christian Gaul； and particularly of that glorious
Abbey of Saint…Germain…des…Pres； whence issued forth those King…Monks
who founded our national dynasty。 Now； despite the culpable insufficiency
of the description given； it was evident to me that the MS。 of the Clerk
Alexander must have come from the great Abbey。 Everything proved this
fact。 All the legends added by the translator related to the pious foundation
of the Abbey by King Childebert。 Then the legend of Saint…Droctoveus
was particularly significant； being the legend of the first abbot of my dear
Abbey。 The poem in French verse on the burial of Saint…Germain led me
actually into the nave of that venerable basilica which was the umbilicus
of Christian Gaul。
The 〃Golden Legend〃 is in itself a vast and gracious work。 Jacques de
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The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
Voragine； Definitor of the Order of Saint…Dominic； and Archbishop of
Genoa； collected in the thirteenth century the various legends of Catholic
saints； and formed so rich a compilation that from all the monasteries and
castles of the time there arouse the cry： 〃This is the 'Golden Legend。'〃 The
〃Legende Doree〃 was especially opulent in Roman hagiography。 Edited by
an Italian monk； it reveals its best merits in the treatment of matters
relating to the terrestrial domains of Saint Peter。 Voragine can only
perceive the greater saints of the Occident as through a cold mist。 For this
reason the Aquitanian and Saxon translators of the good legend…writer
were careful to add to his recital the lives of their own national saints。
I have read and collated a great many manuscripts of the 〃Golden
Legend。〃 I know all those described by my learned colleague； M。 Paulin
Paris； in his handsome catalogue of the MSS。 of the Biblotheque du Roi。
There were two among them which especially drew my attention。 One is
of the fourteenth century and contains a translation by Jean Belet； the
other； younger by a century； presents the version of Jacques Vignay。 Both
come from the Colbert collection； and were placed on the shelves of that
glorious Colbertine library by the Librarian Baluzewhose name I can
never pronounce without uncovering my head； for even in the century of
the giants of erudition； Baluze astounds by his greatness。 I know also a
very curious codex in the Bigot collection； I know seventy…four printed
editions of the work； commencing with the venerable ancestor of allthe
Gothic of Strasburg； begun in 1471； and finished in 1475。 But no one of
those MSS。； no one of those editions； contains the legends of Saints
Ferreol； Ferrution； Germain； Vincent； and Droctoveus； no one bears the
name of the Clerk Alexander； no one； in find； came from the Abbey of
Saint…Germain…des…Pres。 Compared with the MS。 described by Mr。
Thompson； they are only as straw to gold。 I have seen with my eyes； I
have touched with my fingers； an incontrovertible testimony to the
existence of this document。 But the document itselfwhat has become of it？
Sir Thomas Raleigh went to end his days by the shores of the Lake of
Como； whither he carried with him a part of his literary wealth。 Where did
the books go after the death of that aristocratic collector？ Where could the
manuscript of the Clerk Alexander have gone？
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The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
〃And why；〃 I asked myself； 〃why should I have learned that this
precious book exists； if I am never to possess itnever even to see it？ I
would go to seek it in the burning heart of Africa； or in the icy regions of
the Pole if I knew it were there。 But I do not know where it is。 I do not
know if it be guarded in a triple… locked iron case by some jealous
biblomaniac。 I do not know if it be growing mouldy in the attic of some
ignoramus。 I shudder at the thought that perhaps its tore…out leaves may
have been used to cover the pickle…jars of some housekeeper。〃
August 30； 1850
The heavy heat compelled me to walk slowly。 I kept close to the
walls of the north quays； and； in the lukewarm shade； the shops of the
dealers in old books； engravings； and antiquated furniture drew my eyes
and appealed to my fancy。 Rummaging and idling among these； I hastily
enjoyed some verses spiritedly thrown off by a poet of the Pleiad。 I
examined an elegant Masquerade by Watteau。 I felt； with my eye； the
weight of a two…handed sword； a steel gorgerin； a morion。 What a thick
helmet！ What a ponderous breastplate Seigneur！ A giant's garb？ Nothe
carapace of an insect。 The men of those days were cuirassed like beetles；
their weakness was within them。 To…day； on the contrary； our strength is
interior； and our armed souls dwell in feeble bodies。
。。。Here is a pastel…portrait of a lady of the old timethe face； vague like
a shadow； smiles； and a hand； gloved with an openwork mitten； retains
upon her satiny knees a lap…dog； with a ribbon about its neck。 That picture
fills me with a sort of charming melancholy。 Let those who have no half…
effaced pastels in their own hearts laugh at me！ Like the horse that scents
the stable； I hasten my pace as I near my lodgings。 There it isthat great
human hive； in which I have a cell； for the purpose of therein distilling the
somewhat acrid honey of erudition。 I climb the stairs with slow effort。
Only a few steps more； and I shall be at my own door。 But I divine； rather
than see； a robe descending with a sound of rustling silk。 I stop； and press
myself against the balustrade to make room。 The lady who is coming
down is bareheaded； shi is young； she sings； her eyes and teeth gleam in
the shadow； for she laughs with lips and
