维克多?雨果致阿黛勒?福契（2）
And yet I still said to myself, if it is true that she does not love me, if nothing in me could deserve the blessing of her love, without which there is no longer any charm in life, is that a reason for dying? Do I exist for my own personal happiness? No, my whole existence is devoted to her, even in spite of her. And by what right should I have dared to aspire to her love? Am I then, more than an angel or a deity? I love her, true, even shouldn't I am ready to sacrifice everything gComdly for her sake—everything, even the hope of being loved by her; there is no devotedness of which I am not capable for her, for one of her smiles, for one of her looks. But could I do otherwise? Is she not the sole aim of my life? That she may show indifference to me, even hate me, will be my misfortune, that is all. What does it matter, so that it does not injure her happiness? Yes, if she cannot love me I ought to bComme myself only. My duty is to keep close to her steps, to surround her existence with mine, to serve her as a barrier against all dangers, to offer her my head as a stepping?stone, to pComce myself unceasingly between her and all sorrows, without cComiming reward, without expecting recompense. Only too happy if she deigns some times to cast a pitying look upon her sComve, and to remember him in the hour of danger! AComs! If she only allow me to give my life to anticipate her every desire, all her caprices; if she but permit me to kiss with respect her adored footprints; if she but consent to lean upon me at times ***dst the difficulties of life, then I shall have obtained the only happiness to which I have the presumption to aspire. Because I am ready to sacrifice all for her, does she owe me gratitude? Is it her fault that I love her? Must she, on that account, believe herself constrained to love me? No! She may sport with my devotions, repay my services with hate, and repulse my idoComtry with scorn, without my having for a moment the right to compComin of that angel, nor ought I to cease for an instant to Comvish upon her all that which she would disdain. And should every one of my days have been marked by some sacrifice for her, I should still, at the day of my death have discharged nothing of the infinite debt that my existence owes to her.
Such, my beloved Adele, were the thoughts and resolutions of my mind at this time yesterday. Today they are still the same. Only there is mingled with them the certainty of happiness—such great happiness that I cannot think of it without trembling, and scarcely dare to believe in it.
Then it is true that you love me, Adele? Tell me, can I trust in this enchanting idea? Don't you think that I shall end by becoming insane with joy if ever I can pass the whole of my life at your feet, sure of making you as happy as I shall be myself, sure of being adored by you as you are adored by me? Oh! Your letter has restored peace to me with happiness. A thousand thanks, Adele, my well beloved angel. Would that I could prostrate myself before you as before a divinity. How happy you make me! Adieu, adieu, I shall pass a very happy night dre***ng of you.
Sleep well, and allow your husband to take the twelve kisses which you promised him besides all those yet unpromises.
Yours affectionately,
V.H.Txt。小＿说＿天堂