The Man Who Laughs


google search for The Man Who Laughs

Return to Master Book Index.

Page
750 751 752 753 754

Quick Jump
1 236 472 708 944

But the woman slept on.  
What aggravated the storm within him was, that he saw not the princess,  
not the duchess, not the lady, but the woman.  
Gwynplaine, losing all self-command, trembled. What could he do against  
such a temptation? Here were no skilful effects of dress, no silken  
folds, no complex and coquettish adornments, no affected exaggeration of  
concealment or of exhibition, no cloud. It was fearful simplicity--a  
sort of mysterious summons--the shameless audacity of Eden. The whole of  
the dark side of human nature was there. Eve worse than Satan; the human  
and the superhuman commingled. A perplexing ecstasy, winding up in a  
brutal triumph of instinct over duty. The sovereign contour of beauty is  
imperious. When it leaves the ideal and condescends to be real, its  
proximity is fatal to man.  
Now and then the duchess moved softly on the bed, with the vague  
movement of a cloud in the heavens, changing as a vapour changes its  
form. Absurd as it may appear, though he saw her present in the flesh  
before him, yet she seemed a chimera; and, palpable as she was, she  
seemed to him afar off. Scared and livid, he gazed on. He listened for  
her breathing, and fancied he heard only a phantom's respiration. He  
was attracted, though against his will. How arm himself against her--or  
against himself? He had been prepared for everything except this danger.  
A savage doorkeeper, a raging monster of a jailer--such were his  
expected antagonists. He looked for Cerberus; he saw Hebe. A sleeping  
752  


Page
750 751 752 753 754

Quick Jump
1 236 472 708 944