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The Nun 109
she was suffering from. Then I had another idea: that this illness was
possibly contagious, that Sainte Thérèse had caught it, and that I too
would catch it.
On the following day, after matins, our Mother Superior said
to me:
 Sainte Suzanne, today s the day when I hope to learn everything
that has happened to you. Come with me...
I went with her. She made me sit down in her armchair next to her
bed, and she sat on a slightly lower chair. I dominated her a little
because I am taller and because I was higher up. She was sitting so
close to me that her knees embraced mine, and she was leaning on
her bed. After a brief silence, I said:
 Although I m very young, I ve suffered a great deal. I shall soon
have been alive and suffering for twenty years. I don t know if I ll be
able to tell you everything, or if you ll have the heart to hear me out.
Suffering at the hands of my parents, suffering in the convent of
Sainte-Marie, suffering in the convent at Longchamp, suffering
everywhere. Dear Mother, where do you want me to start?
 With your earliest suffering.
 But, dear Mother, I said,  it s a long, sad story, and I wouldn t
want to make you upset for such a long time.
 Never fear, I like crying: shedding tears is a delicious state for a
sensitive soul to be in. You must like crying too. You will wipe away
my tears, and I yours, and perhaps we ll find happiness in the midst
of your account of your suffering. Who knows where our emotions
might lead us?...
And as she spoke these last words she looked me up and down, her
eyes already moist with tears, she took hold of my hands and came
even closer to me so that we were touching each other.
 Tell me everything, my child, she said,  I m waiting, I m very
much in the mood for emotion. I don t think I ve ever known a more
affecting and moving day in my whole life...
So I began my account rather as I have just written it for you. I
cannot describe the effect it had on her, the sighs she gave, the tears
she shed, her expressions of indignation against my cruel parents,
the awful nuns at Sainte-Marie, and those at Longchamp. I should
be sorry if the smallest part of the ills she wished on them ever
actually came about: I would not wish to have plucked a single hair
from the head of my worst enemy. From time to time she interrupted
110 The Nun
me, got up, walked around, then sat back down again. At other
points she raised her eyes and hands heavenwards and then buried
her head in my lap. When I told her about what happened to me in
the dungeon, and the exorcism and my public confession, she almost
screamed. When I had finished, I said nothing and for a while she
remained there, bent forward on her bed, her face hidden in her
blanket and her arms stretched out above her head. So I said to her:
 Dear Mother, forgive me for all the suffering I ve caused you. I
did warn you, but it s what you wanted...
And all she said in reply was:
 The wicked creatures! The wicked creatures! Only in convents
could humanity sink so low. When hatred joins forces with a charac-
teristically bad temper, there s no telling how far things will go.
Fortunately I m a gentle woman, I like all my nuns. They have all, to
different degrees, taken on something of my character, and they all
like each other. But how did your failing health withstand such
torments? How did all your little limbs not end up broken? How has
this delicate machine not been destroyed? How has the sparkle in
your eyes not been washed away by tears? The cruel women! Tying
up these arms with rope!... And she took hold of my arms and
kissed them.  Bathing these eyes in tears!... And she kissed them.
 Wringing moans and groans from this mouth!... And she kissed
it.  Condemning this charming and serene face to be constantly
clouded by sadness!... And she kissed it.  Making these rosy
cheeks fade!... And she stroked them and kissed them.  Spoiling
this head! Tearing out this hair! Darkening this forehead with
anguish!... And she kissed my head, my forehead, my hair.  Daring
to tie a rope round this neck and cutting these shoulders with sharp
points!... And she pushed aside my gimp and wimple and opened
up the top of my gown. My hair fell loose over my bare shoulders,
my breast was half naked, and her kisses spread over my neck, bare
shoulders, and half-naked breast. I could tell then from the trem-
bling that gripped her, from the confusion in her speech, from the
wild movements of her eyes and hands, from her knee pressing
against mine, from the way she was clutching me fervently and
embracing me violently that her illness would soon be upon her. I do
not know what was going on inside me, but I was gripped by a terror,
a trembling, and a dizziness which confirmed in my mind my
suspicion that her illness was contagious. I said to her:
The Nun 111
 Dear Mother, just look at the state you ve reduced me to! What if
somebody came along now?
 Stay here, stay here, she said in a feeble voice,  nobody will
come...
Nevertheless I tried hard to get up and tear myself away from her,
and I said to her: [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]