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The Gods are Athirst, a novel by Anatole France |
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Chapter 23 |
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_ CHAPTER XXIII Evariste Gamelin was worn out and could not rest; twenty times in the night he would awake with a start from a sleep haunted by nightmares. It was only in the blue chamber, in Elodie's arms, that he could snatch a few hours' slumber. He talked and cried out in his sleep and used often to awake her; but she could make nothing of what he said. One morning, after a night when he had seen the Eumenides, he started awake, broken with terror and weak as a child. The dawn was piercing the window curtains with its wan arrows. Evariste's hair, lying tangled on his brow, covered his eyes with a black veil; Elodie, by the bedside, was gently parting the wild locks. She was looking at him now, with a sister's tenderness, while with her handkerchief she wiped away the icy sweat from the unhappy man's forehead. Then he remembered that fine scene in the _Orestes_ of Euripides, which he had essayed to represent in a picture that, if he could have finished it, would have been his masterpiece--the scene where the unhappy Electra wipes away the spume that sullies her brother's lips. And he seemed to hear Elodie also saying in a gentle voice: "Hear me, beloved brother, while the Furies leave you master of your reason ..." And he thought: "And yet I am no parricide. Far from it, it is filial piety has made me shed the tainted blood of the enemies of my fatherland." _ |
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