The Hermit and the Wild Woman, and Other Stories — John Shaqi
The Hermit and the Wild Woman, and Other StoriesWharton, Edith
General
The Hermit and the Wild Woman, and Other Stories
Wharton, Edith
Short stories, American
For a few days I was quite happy, for instead of the dusty
mountainside, and the sight of the sweating peasants and their asses, I
looked out on dark cypresses and rows of budding vegetables. But
presently I found I had not bettered myself. For with the approach of
midsummer the garden, being all enclosed with buildings, grew as
stifling as my cell. All the green things in it withered and dried off,
leaving trenches of bare red earth, across which the cypresses cast
strips of shade too narrow to cool the aching heads of the nuns who
sought shelter there; and I began to think sorrowfully of my former
cell, where now and then there came a sea-breeze, hot and languid, yet
alive, and where at least I could look out upon the sea. But this was
not the worst; for when the dog-days came I found that the sun, at a
certain hour, cast on the ceiling of my cell the reflection of the
ripples on the garden-tank; and to say how I suffered from this sight
is not within the power of speech. It was indeed agony to watch the
clear water rippling and washing above my head, yet feel no solace of
it on my limbs: as though I had been a senseless brazen image lying at
the bottom of a well. But the image, if it felt no refreshment, would
have suffered no torture; whereas every inch of my skin throbbed with
thirst, and every vein was a mouth of Dives praying for a drop of
water. Oh, Father, how shall I tell you the grievous pains that I
endured? Sometimes I so feared the sight of the mocking ripples
overhead that I hid my eyes from their approach, lying face down on my
burning bed till I knew that they were gone; yet on cloudy days, when
they did not come, the heat was even worse to bear.
By day I hardly dared trust myself in the garden, for the nuns walked
there, and one fiery noon they found me hanging so close above the tank
that they snatched me away, crying out that I had tried to destroy
myself. The scandal of this reaching the Abbess, she sent for me to
know what demon had beset me; and when I wept and said, the longing to
bathe my burning body, she broke into great anger and cried out: "Do
you not know that this is a sin well-nigh as great as the other, and
condemned by all the greatest saints? For a nun may be tempted to take
her life through excess of self-scrutiny and despair of her own
worthiness; but this desire to indulge the despicable body is one of
the lusts of the flesh, to be classed with concupiscence and adultery."
And she ordered me to sleep every night for a month in my heavy gown,
with a veil upon my face.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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