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reverie. And now a certain amount of evil had been done, and this train
of thought, thenceforth, perhaps, irreparable, he took up again eagerly.
What! she desired him! What! the princess descend from her throne, the
idol from its shrine, the statue from its pedestal, the phantom from its
cloud! What! from the depths of the impossible had this chimera come!
This deity of the sky! This irradiation! This nereid all glistening
with jewels! This proud and unattainable beauty, from the height of her
radiant throne, was bending down to Gwynplaine! What! had she drawn up
her chariot of the dawn, with its yoke of turtle-doves and dragons,
before Gwynplaine, and said to him, "Come!" What! this terrible glory of
being the object of such abasement from the empyrean, for Gwynplaine!
This woman, if he could give that name to a form so starlike and
majestic, this woman proposed herself, gave herself, delivered herself
up to him! Wonder of wonders! A goddess prostituting herself for him!
The arms of a courtesan opening in a cloud to clasp him to the bosom of
a goddess, and that without degradation! Such majestic creatures cannot
be sullied. The gods bathe themselves pure in light; and this goddess
who came to him knew what she was doing. She was not ignorant of the
incarnate hideousness of Gwynplaine. She had seen the mask which was his
face; and that mask had not caused her to draw back. Gwynplaine was
loved notwithstanding it!
Here was a thing surpassing all the extravagance of dreams. He was loved
in consequence of his mask. Far from repulsing the goddess, the mask
attracted her. Gwynplaine was not only loved; he was desired. He was
more than accepted; he was chosen. He, chosen!
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