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德伯家的苔丝|Tess of the D‘Urbervilles

第49章|Chapter 48

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 托马斯-哈代] 阅读：[31845]
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苔丝这封言词恳切的信，已经按时寄到了环境清幽的牧师公馆，摆在了早饭桌上。牧师公馆地处西边的峡谷；那儿的空气柔和，土地肥沃，和燧石山农场比起来，那儿只要稍加耕种，庄稼就能够长出来；对于那儿的人，苔丝也似乎觉得不同（其实完全是一样的）。安琪尔远涉重洋，带着沉重的心情到异国它乡开拓事业，因此经常给父亲写信，把自己不断变化的地址告诉他，所以他嘱咐苔丝把写给他的信寄给他的父亲转寄，完全是为了保险起见。

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“喂，”老克莱尔先生看过信封，回头对妻子说，“安琪尔写信说他要回家一趟，如果他在下个月底动身离开里约，我想这封信也许会催他快点动身，因为我相信这封信一定是他妻子寄来的。”他一想起安琪尔的妻子，不禁深深地叹了口气；于是他在这封信上重新写了地址，立即寄给了安琪尔。

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“亲爱的儿子呀，希望你能平安地回家来！”克莱尔太太低声说。“我这一辈子都感到他被亏待了。尽管他不信教，但是你也应该把他送到剑桥去，和你对待他的两个哥哥那样，给他同样的机会。他在那儿受到合适的影响，也许他的思想就慢慢改变了，说不定还会当牧师呢。无论进教会，还是不进教会，那样待他才公平一些。”

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关于他们的儿子，克莱尔太太就说了这样几句伤心的话，埋怨她的丈夫。她也不是经常说这些抱怨的话；因为她是一个既虔诚又体贴的人，而且她也知道，关于这件事，她的丈夫也怀疑自己是不是有偏见，所以心里难过。她常常听见他在晚上睡不着觉，不停地祈祷，以此来压抑自己的叹息。这位冷酷的福音教徒把他另外两个儿子送去接受了大学教育，不过没有把他不信教的小儿子也同样送去。但是，即使到了现在，他也不认为自己有什么不对，要是安琪尔接受了大学教育，虽然不是很有可能，但是他有可能用他学到的知识批驳他一生热情宣传的主义，而他的另外两个儿子不同，都和他一样当了牧师。他一方面为两个信教的儿子在脚下垫上垫脚石，另一方面又以同样的方法褒奖不信教的儿子，他认为这和他一贯的信念、他的地位、他的希望是不一致的。尽管如此，他仍然爱着安琪尔①这个名字叫错了的儿子，心里头为没有把他送进大学暗暗难过，就像亚伯拉罕一样，当他把注定要死的儿子以撒带到山上时②，心里也不能不为儿子感到痛苦。他在内心里产生出来的后悔，比他的妻子说出的抱怨要痛苦得多。

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①安琪尔（Angel），意为天使，但安琪尔不信教，不愿当牧师，所以人与名不符。

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②见《圣经·创世纪》第二十二章。上帝要考验亚伯拉罕，要他把儿子带到山上献祭，于是亚伯拉罕把儿子带到上帝指定的山上，绑在祭坛上，拿刀杀儿子，这时上帝的使者才制止了他。

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对于安琪尔和苔丝这场不幸的婚姻，老两口责备的也是自己。要是安琪尔不是注定了要做一个农场主，他就没有机会同一个乡下姑娘结缘了。他们并不十分清楚儿子和媳妇是什么原因分开的，也不知道他们是什么时间分开的。他们最初还以为是发生了什么严重的憎恶感，但是儿子在后来写给他们的信中，偶尔也提到要回家接他的妻子；从信中的话看来，他们希望他们的分离并不是像当初那样绝望，永远不能和好。儿子还告诉他们，说苔丝住在她的娘家，他们顾虑重重，不知道怎样改变他们的处境，所以就决定不过问这件事。

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就在这个时候，苔丝希望读到她的信的那个人，正骑在一头骡子的背上，望着一望无垠的广阔原野，从南美大陆的内地往海岸走去。他在这块陌生土地上的经历是悲惨的。他到达那儿后不久，就大病了一场，至今还没有完全痊愈，因此他差不多慢慢地把在这儿经营农业的希望放弃了，尽管他留下来的可能性已经很小，但是还没有把自己思想的改变告诉他的父母。

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在克莱尔之后，还有大批的农业工人听了可以在这儿过安逸独立生活的宣传，弄昏了头脑，成群结队地来到这里，在这儿受苦受难，面黄肌瘦，甚至丢了性命。他看见从英国农场来的母亲，怀里抱着婴儿，一路艰难地跋涉，当孩子不幸染上热病死了，做母亲的就停下来，用空着的双手在松软的地上挖一个坑，然后再用同样的天然工具把婴儿埋进坑里，滴一两滴眼泪，又继续朝前跋涉。

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安琪尔本来没有打算到巴西来，而是想到英国北部或东部的农场去。他是带着一种绝望的心情到这个地方来的，因为当时英国农民中出现的一场巴西运动，恰好和他要逃避自己过去生活的愿望不谋而合。

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他在国外的这段生活，使他在思想上成熟了十二年。现在吸引他的人生中有价值的东西，不是人生的美丽，而是人生的悲苦。既然他早就不相信旧的神秘主义体系，现在他也就开始不相信过去的道德评价了。他认为过去的道德评价需要重新修正。什么样的男人才是一个有道德的男人呢？再问得更确切些，什么样的女人才是有道德的女人呢？一个人品格的美丑，不仅仅在于他取得的成就，也在于他的目的和动机；他的真正的历史，不在于已经做过的事，而在于一心要做的事。

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那么，对苔丝应该怎样看呢？

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一旦用上面的眼光看待她，他就对自己匆忙下的判断后悔，心里开始感到难受起来。他是永远把她抛弃了呢，还是暂时把她抛弃了呢？他再也说不出永远抛弃她的话来了，既然说不出这种话来，那就是说现在他在精神上接受她了。

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他越来越喜欢对苔丝的回忆，那个时候正是苔丝住在陵石山农场的时候，但在那时候，苔丝还没有觉得应该大胆把她的境况和感情告诉他，打动他。那时候他感到非常困惑，在困惑之中，他没有仔细研究她为什么不给他写信的动机，而她的温顺和沉默也被他错误地理解了。要是他能够理解的话，她的沉默中又有多少话要说啊！——她之所以沉默，是她要严格遵守他现在已经忘记了的吩咐，虽然她天生了一副无所畏惧的性格，但是却没有维护自己的权利，而承认了他的宣判在各个方面都是正确的，因此只好一声不响地低头认错。

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在前面提到的安模尔骑着骡子穿越巴西腹地的旅行中，另外还有一个人骑着骡子和他同路。安琪尔的这个同伴也是英国人，虽然他是从英国的另一地区来的，但是目的都是一样。他们情绪低落，精神状态都不好，就在一起谈一些家事。诚心换诚心。人们往往有一种奇怪的倾向，愿意向不熟悉的人吐露自己不愿向熟悉的朋友吐露的家庭琐事，所以他们骑着骡子一面走路的时候，安琪尔就把自己婚姻中令人悲伤的问题对他的同伴讲了。

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安琪尔这位陌生的同伴，比他到过更多的国家，见过更多的人物；在他宽阔的胸怀着来，这类超越社会常规的事情，对于家庭生活似乎非同小可，其实只不过是一些高低不平的起伏，有如连绵不断的山川峡谷对于整个地球的曲线。他对这件事情的看法和安琪尔的截然不同；认为苔丝过去的历史对于她未来的发展无足轻重。他明白地告诉安琪尔，他离开她是错误的。

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第二天他们遭遇了一场雷雨，都一起被雨淋得透湿。安琪尔的同伴染上了热病，一病不起，在礼拜末的时候死了。克莱尔等了几个小时，掩埋了他，然后又上了路。

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他对于这位心怀坦荡的同伴，除了一个普通的名字而外一无所知，但是他随便评说的几句话，他一死反而变成了至理名言，对克莱尔的影响超过了所有哲学家合乎逻辑的伦理学观点。和他一比，他不禁为自己的心地狭窄感到羞愧。于是他的自相矛盾之处就像潮水一样涌上了他的心头。他以前顽固地褒扬希腊的异教文化，贬抑基督教的信仰；在希腊的异教文明里，一个人因为受到强暴才屈服并不一定就丧失了人格。无疑他憎恨童贞的丧失，他这种憎恨是他和神秘主义的信条一起继承来的，但是如果童贞的丧失是因为欺骗的结果，那他认为这种心理至少就应该加以修正了。他心里悔恨起来。他又想起了伊获·休特说的话，这些话他从来就没有真正忘记过。他问伊茨是不是爱他，伊茨回答说爱他。他又问她是不是比苔丝更爱他？她回答说不。苔丝可以为他献出自己的生命，而她却做不到。

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他又想起了苔丝在结婚那一天的神情。她的眼睛对他表达出多少深情啊；她多么用心地听他说话啊，仿佛他说的话就是神说的话！在他们坐在壁炉前的那个可怕的夜晚，当她那纯朴的灵魂向他表白自己的过去时，她的脸在炉火的映衬下看起来多么可怜啊，因为她想不到他会翻脸无情，不再爱她、呵护她。

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他就这样从一个批评她的人变成了一个为她辩护的人。因为苔丝的缘故，他对自己说了许多愤世嫉俗的话，但是一个人不能总是作为一个愤世嫉俗的人活在世上，所以他就不再那样了。他错误地愤世嫉俗，这是因为他只让普遍原则影响自己，而不管特殊的情形。

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不过这种理论未免有些陈旧；早在今天以前，做情人的和做丈夫的已经超越了这种理论。克莱尔对苔丝一直冷酷，这是用不着怀疑的。男人们对他们爱的和爱过的女人常常过于冷酷；女人们对男人也是如此。但是这些冷酷同产生这些冷酷的宇宙冷酷比起来，它们还算得上温柔；这种冷酷就像地位对于性情，手段对于目的，今天对于昨天，未来对于现在。

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他对苔丝的家族历史产生的热情，也就是对专横的德贝维尔家族产生的热情——他以前瞧不起这个家族，认为它气数已尽——现在又让他的感情激动起来。这类事情具有政治上的价值和想象上的价值，他以前为什么不知道这两种价值之间的区别呢？从想象的价值看，她的德贝维尔家世的历史意义十分重大；它在经济上一钱不值，但它对一个富于梦想的人，对于一个感叹盛衰枯荣的人来说，却是最有用的材料。事实上，可怜的苔丝在血统和姓氏方面与众不同的那一点特点，很快就要被人遗忘了，她在血统上同金斯伯尔的大理石碑和铅制棺材之间的联系，就要湮没无闻。时光就是这样残酷地把他的浪漫故事给粉碎了。他一次又一次地回想起她的面貌，他觉得现在他可以从中看出一种尊严的闪光，而那种尊严也一定是她的祖先有过的；他的幻觉使他产生出一种情绪，这是他从前感到在血管里奔流着的情绪，而现在剩下的只是一种痛苦感觉了。

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尽管苔丝的过去并非白璧无瑕，但是像她这样一个女人现有的优点，也能胜过她的同伴们的新鲜美丽。以法莲人拾取的葡萄，不是胜过亚比以谢新摘的葡萄吗？①

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①见《圣经·士师记》第八章第二节。

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这样说来克莱尔是旧情萌发了，这也为苔丝一往情深的倾诉铺平了道路，就在那时候，他的父亲已经把苔丝写给他的信转寄去了；不过因为他住在遥远的内地，这封信要很长时间才能寄到他的手上。

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就在这时候，写信的人心想，安琪尔读了她的信就会回来，不过她的希望有时大，有时小。她的希望变小的原因是她生活中当初导致他们分离的事实没有改变——而且永远也不能改变。当初她在他的身边都没有使他回心转意，现在她不在他身边，那他就更不会回心转意了。尽管如此，她心里头想的还是一个深情的问题，就是他一旦回来了，她怎样做他才最高兴。她唉声叹气起来，后悔自己当初在他弹竖琴的时候没有多注意一下，记住他弹的是什么曲子，也后悔自己没有更加仔细地问问他，记住在那些乡下姑娘唱的民谣里，他最喜欢哪几首。她间接地问过跟着伊茨从泰波塞斯来到燧石山农场的阿比·西丁，碰巧他还记得，他们在奶牛场工作时，他们断断续续地唱的让奶牛出奶的那些歌曲，克莱尔似乎最喜欢《丘比特的花园》、《我有猎苑，我有猎犬》和《天色刚破晓》；好像不太喜欢《裁缝的裤子》和《我长成了一个大美人》①，虽然这两首歌也很不错。

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①以上歌曲都是十九世纪英国流行的民歌。

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苔丝现在心中的愿望就是把这几首民歌唱好。她一有空就悄悄地练习，特别注意练习《天色刚破晓》那首歌：

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起床吧，起床吧，起床吧！

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去为你的爱人来一束花，

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花园里面种有花，

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美丽的鲜花都开啦。

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斑鸠小鸟成双成对，

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在枝头忙着建筑小巢，

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五月里起得这样早，

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天色才刚刚破晓。

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在这种寒冷的天气里，只要其他的姑娘们不在她的身边，她就唱这些歌曲，就是铁石心肠的人听了，也会被她感动。每当想到他也许终究不会来听她唱歌，她就泪流满面，歌曲里那些纯朴痴情的词句，余音不断，仿佛在讽刺唱歌人的痛苦的心。

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苔丝一直沉浸在幻想的美梦里，似乎已经忘记了岁月的流转；似乎忘记了白天的时间已经越来越长，也似乎忘记了圣母节已经临近，不久紧接而来的就是旧历圣母节，她在这儿的工期也就结束了。

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但是在那个结账的日子完全到来之前，发生了一件事情，让苔丝思考起完全不同的问题来。有一天晚上，她在那座小屋里像平常一样和那一家人在楼下的房间里坐着，这时传来敲门声，问苔丝在不在这儿。苔丝从门口望去，看见门外有一个人影站在落日的余晖里，看她身材的高矮像个妇女，看她身材的肥瘦又像一个孩子，她在暗淡的光线里还没有认出是谁，那个人就开口喊了一声“苔丝”！

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“哎呀——是丽莎·露吗？”苔丝用吃惊的语气问。她在一年多前离开家的时候，她还是一个孩子，现在猛然长成了这么高的个子，连丽莎自己也不知道是怎么一回事。因为长高了，以前她穿在身上嫌长的袍子，现在已经显得短了，一双腿也露在袍子的外面；她的手和胳膊也似乎感到拘谨，这说明她还没有处世的经验。

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“是我，我跑了一整天了，苔丝！”丽莎用不带感情的郑重口气说，“我到处找你；我都给累坏了。”

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“家里出什么事了吗？”

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“妈妈病得很重，医生说她快要死了，爸爸的身体也很不好，还说他这样的高贵人家像奴隶一样地去干活太不像话；我们也不知道怎么办好。”

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苔丝听后愣了半天，才想起来让丽莎·露进门坐下。丽莎·露坐下以后，吃了一点儿点心，苔丝这时也打定了主意。看来她是非立即回家不可了。她的合同要到旧历圣母节也就是四月六日才能到期，但也没有几天了，所以她决定立刻大胆动身回家。

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要是当晚就动身，她们可以提前十二个小时回到家里，但是她的妹妹太累了，不等到明天走不了这样远的路。所以苔丝就跑到玛丽安和伊茨住的地方，把发生的事情告诉她们，并请她们在农场主的面前好好地替她解释。她又回来给丽莎做了晚饭，然后再把她安顿在自己的床上睡了，才开始收拾自己的行李，尽量地把自己的东西都装进一个柳条篮子里，告诉丽莎明天早上走，自己动身上路了。

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In the afternoon the farmer made it known that the rick was to be finished that night, since there was a moon by which they could see to work, and the man with the engine was engaged for another farm on the morrow. Hence the twanging and humming and rustling proceeded with even less intermission than usual.

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It was not till `nammet’-time, about three o’clock, that Tess raised her eyes and gave a momentary glance round. She felt but little surprise at seeing that Alec d’Urberville had come back, and was standing under the hedge by the gate. He had seen her lift her eyes, and waved his hand urbanely to her, while he blew her a kiss. It meant that their quarrel was over. Tess looked down again, and carefully abstained from gazing in that direction.

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Thus the afternoon dragged on. The wheat-rick shrank lower, and the straw-rick grew higher, and the corn-sacks were carted away. At six o’clock the wheat-rick was about shoulder-high from the ground. But the unthreshed sheaves remaining untouched seemed countless still, notwithstanding the enormous numbers that had been gulped down by the insatiable swallower, fed by the man and Tess, through whose two young hands the greater part of them had passed. And the immense stack of straw where in the morning there had been nothing, appeared as the faeces of the same buzzing red glutton. From the west sky a wrathful shine - all that wild March could afford in the way of sunset - had burst forth after the cloudy day, flooding the tired and sticky faces of the threshers, and dyeing them with a coppery light, as also the flapping garments of the women, which clung to them like dull flames.

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A panting ache ran through the rick. The man who fed was weary, and Tess could see that the red nape of his neck was encrusted with dirt and husks. She still stood at her post, her flushed and perspiring face coated with the corn-dust, and her white bonnet embrowned by it. She was the only woman whose place was upon the machine so as to be shaken bodily by its spinning, and the decrease of the stack now separated her from Marian and Izz, and prevented their changing duties with her as they had done. The incessant quivering, in which every fibre of her frame participated, had thrown her into a stupefied reverie in which her arms worked on independently of her consciousness. She hardy knew where she was, and did not hear Izz Huett tell her from below that her hair was tumbling down.

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By degrees the freshest among them began to grow cadaverous and saucer-eyed. Whenever Tess lifted her head she beheld always the great upgrown straw-stack, with the men in shirt-sleeves upon it, against the gray north sky; in front of it the long red elevator like a Jacob’s ladder, on which a perpetual stream of threshed straw ascended, a yellow river running up-hill, and spouting out on the top of the rick.

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She knew that Alec d’Urberville was still on the scene, observing her from some point or other, though she could not say where. There was an excuse for his remaining, for when the threshed rick drew near its final sheaves a little ratting was always done, and men unconnected with the threshing sometimes dropped in for that performance - sporting characters of all descriptions, gents with terriers and facetious pipes, roughs with sticks and stones.

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But there was another hour’s work before the layer of live rats at the base of the stack would be reached; and as the evening right in the direction of the Giant’s Hill by Abbot’s-Cernel dissolved away, the white-faced moon of the season arose from the horizon that lay towards Middleton Abbey and Shottsford on the other side. For the last hour or two Marian had felt uneasy about Tess, whom she could not get near enough to speak to, the other women having kept up their strength by drinking ale, and Tess having done without it through traditionary dread, owing to its results at her home in childhood. But Tess still kept going: if she could not fill her part she would have to leave; and this contingency, which she would have regarded with equanimity and even with relief a month or two earlier, had become a terror since d’Urberville had begun to hover round her.

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The sheaf-pitchers and feeders had now worked the rick so low that people on the ground could talk to them. To Tess’s surprise Farmer Groby came up on the machine to her, and said that if she desired to join her friend he did not wish her to keep on any longer, and would send somebody else to take her place. The `friend’ was d’Urberville, she knew, and also that this concession had been granted in obedience to the request of that friend, or enemy. She shook her head and toiled on.

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The time for the rat-catching arrived at last, and the hunt began. The creatures had crept downwards with the subsidence of the rick till they were all together at the bottom, and being now uncovered from their last refuge they ran across the open ground in all directions, a loud shriek from the by-this-time half-tipsy Marian informing her companions that one of the rats had invaded her person - a terror which the rest of the women had guarded against by various schemes of skirt-tucking and self-elevation. The rat was at last dislodged, and, amid the barking of dogs, masculine shouts, feminine screams, oaths, stampings, and confusion as of Pandemonium, Tess untied her last sheaf; the drum slowed, the whizzing ceased, and she stepped from the machine to the ground.

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Her lover, who had only looked on at the rat-catching, was promptly at her side.

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`What - after all - my insulting slap, too!’ said she in an underbreath. She was so utterly exhausted that she had not strength to speak louder.

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`I should indeed be foolish to feel offended at anything you say or do,’ he answered, in the seductive voice of the Trantridge time. `How the little limbs tremble! You are as weak as a bled calf, you know you are; and yet you need have done nothing since I arrived. How could you be so obstinate? However, I have told the farmer that he has no right to employ women at steam-threshing. It is not proper work for them; and on all the better class of farms it has been given up, as he knows very well. I will walk with you as far as your home.’

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`O yes,’ she answered with a jaded gait. `Walk wi’ me if you will! I do bear in mind that you came to marry me before you knew o’ my state. Perhaps - perhaps you are a little better and kinder than I have been thinking you were. Whatever is meant as kindness I am grateful for; whatever is meant in any other way I am angered at. I cannot sense your meaning sometimes.’

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`If I cannot legitimize our former relations at least I can assist you. And I will do it with much more regard for your feelings than I formerly showed. My religious mania, or whatever it was, is over. But I retain a little good nature; I hope I do. Now Tess, by all that’s tender and strong between man and woman, trust me! I have enough and more than enough to put you out of anxiety, both for yourself and your parents and sisters. I can make them all comfortable if you will only show confidence in me.’

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`Have you seen ’em lately?’ she quickly inquired.

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`Yes. They didn’t know where you were. It was only by chance that I found you here.’

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The cold moon looked aslant upon Tess’s fagged face between the twigs of the garden-hedge as she paused outside the cottage which was her temporary home, d’Urberville pausing beside her.

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`Don’t mention my little brothers and sisters - don’t make me break down quite!’ she said. `If you want to help them - God knows they need it - do it without telling me. But no, no!’ she cried. `I will take nothing from you, either for them or for me!’

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He did not accompany her further, since, as she lived with the household, all was public indoors. No sooner had she herself entered, laved herself in a washing-tub, and shared supper with the family than she fell into thought, and withdrawing to the table under the wall, by the light of her own little lamp wrote in a passionate mood--

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MY OWN HUSBAND, - Let me call you so - I must - even if it makes you angry to think of such an unworthy wife as I. I must cry to you in my trouble - I have no one else! I am so exposed to temptation, Angel. I fear to say who it is, and I do not like to write about it at all. But I cling to you in a way you cannot think! Can you not come to me now, at once, before anything terrible happens? O, I know you cannot, because you are so far away! I think I must die if you do not come soon, or tell me to come to you. The punishment you have measured out to me is deserved - I do know that - well deserved - and you are right and just to be angry with me. But, Angel, please, please, not to be just - only a little kind to me even if I do not deserve it, and come to me! If you would me, come, I could die in your arms! I would be well content to do that if so be you had forgiven me!

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Angel, I live entirely for you. I love you too much to blame you for going away, and I know it was necessary you should find a farm. Do not think I shall say a word of sting or bitterness. Only come back to me. I am desolate without you, my darling, O, so desolate! I do not mind having to work: but if you will send me one little line, and say, `I am coming soon’, I will bide on, Angel - O, so cheerfully!

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It has been so much my religion ever since we were married to be faithful to you in every thought and look, that even when a man speaks a compliment to me before I am aware, it seems wronging you. Have you never felt one little bit of what you used to feel when we were at the dairy? If you have, how can you keep away from me? I am the same woman, Angel, as you fell in love with; yes, the very same! - not the one you disliked but never saw. What was the past to me as soon as I met you? It was a dead thing altogether. I became another woman, filled full of new life from you. How could I be the early one? Why do you not see this? Dear, if you would only be a little more conceited, and believe in yourself so far as to see that you were strong enough to work this change in me, you would perhaps be in a mind to come to me, your poor wife.

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How silly I was in my happiness when I thought I could trust you always to love me! I ought to have known that such as that was not for poor me. But I am sick at heart, not only for old times, but for the present. Think - think how it do hurt my heart not to see you ever - ever! Ah, if I could only make your dear heart ache one little minute of each day as mine does every day and all day long, it might lead you to show pity to your poor lonely one.

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People still say that I am rather pretty, Angel (handsome is the word they use, since I wish to be truthful). Perhaps I am what they say. But I do not value my good looks; I only like to have them because they belong to you, my dear, and that there may be at least one thing about me worth your having. So much have I felt this, that when I met with annoyance on account of the same I tied up my face in a bandage as long as people would believe in it. O Angel, I tell you all this not from vanity - you will certainly know I do not - but only that you may come to me!

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If you really cannot come to me will you let me come to you! I am, as I say, worried, pressed to do what I will not do. It cannot be that I shall yield one inch, yet I am in terror as to what an accident might lead to, and I so defenceless on account of my first error. I cannot say more about this - it makes me too miserable. But if I break down by falling into some fearful snare, my last state will be worse than my first. O God, I cannot think of it! Let me come at once, or at once come to me!

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I would be content, ay, glad, to live with you as your servant, if I may not as your wife; so that I could only be near you, and get glimpses of you, and think of you as mine.

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The daylight has nothing to show me, since you are not here, and I don’t like to see the rooks and starlings in the fields, because I grieve and grieve to miss you who used to see them with me. I long for only one thing in heaven or earth or under the earth, to meet you, my own dear! Come to me - come to me, and save me from what threatens me! - Your faithful heartbroken

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