The Dream by Emile Zola

Author:Emile Zola
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Angelique is adopted by a couple of embroiderers, the Huberts. Enthralled by the tales of the saints and martyrs, Angelique is dreaming about a handsome prince and falls in love with Felicien d'Hautecoeur, the last in an old family of knights, heroes, and nobles in the service of Christ and of France. His father, the present Monseigneur, objects to their marrying.Emile Zola was a French writer, the most important exemplar of the literary school of naturalism and an important contributor to the development of theatrical naturalism. He was a major figure in the political liberalization of France. Zola's most popular work includes: Theresa Raquin (ISBN: 9781909904880), Nana (ISBN: 9781909904897), The Dream (ISBN: 9781909904903), His Masterpiece (ISBN: 9781909904910).Emile Zola, Zola, naturalism, romance, romantic, tale, social order, realism, France, french, psychological, philosophical, provoking, world classic
Publisher: Sovereign
Published: 2013-11-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER IX

Felicien was at her feet. Until now he had kept his place in the remote corner of the balcony. But in the intense happiness she gave him in thus unfolding the innermost secrets of her soul he had drawn himself on his knees towards her, as he approached the window. This great, illimitable joy was so unlooked for, that he yielded to it in all the infinitude of its hopes of the future.

He half whispered:

“Ah, dear soul, pure, kind, and beautiful, your wonderful goodness has cured me as with a breath! I know not now if I have ever suffered. And, in your turn, you will now have to pardon me, for I have an acknowledgment to make to you. I must tell you who I am.”

He was troubled at the thought he could no longer disguise himself or his position, since she had confided so freely and entirely in him. It would be disloyal in the highest degree to do so. Yet he hesitated, lest he might, after all, lose her, were she to be anxious about the future when at last she knew the facts.

And she waited for him to speak again, a little malicious in spite of herself.

In a very low voice he continued:

“I have told a falsehood to your parents.”

“Yes, I know it,” she said as she smiled.

“No, you do not know it; you could not possibly know it, for all that happened too long ago. I only paint on glass for my own pleasure, and as a simple amusement; you really ought to be told of that.”

Then, with a quick movement, she put her hand on his mouth, as if she wished to prevent this explanation.

“I do not care to hear any more. I have been expecting you. I knew that sooner or later you would come, and you have done so. That is all-sufficient.”

They talked no longer for a while. That little hand over his lips seemed almost too great a happiness for him.

“When the right time comes, then I shall know all. Yet I assure you that I am ignorant of nothing connected with you, for everything had been revealed to me before our first meeting. You were to be, and can be, only the handsomest, the richest, and the most noble of men, the one above all others; for that has ever been my dream, and in the sure certainty of its full accomplishment I wait calmly. You are the chosen hero who it was ordained should come, and I am yours.”

A second time she interrupted herself in the tremor of the words she pronounced. She did not appear to say them by herself alone; they came to her as if sent by the beautiful night from the great white heavens, from the old trees, and the aged stones sleeping outside and dreaming aloud the fancies of the young girl. From behind her voices also whispered them to her, the voices of her friends in the “Golden Legend,” with whom she had peopled the air and the space around her.

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