Document · book

The Romance of Old New England Rooftrees

Mary Caroline Crawford, 1903. New England houses and the stories attached to them, several of them Boston's own.

Document

Type

book

Author

Mary Caroline Crawford

Published, as stated

1903

Language

en

Media type

text/plain; charset=utf-8

Size

95146 bytes

Preservation

preserved

Digest (SHA-256)

0b624aea10f46bf03afe4d41ff41923a34992cd991e4140f92cb9c7f99295e95

Text

Extracted text, as held. Quoted without alteration.

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Clarimonde This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title: Clarimonde Author: Théophile Gautier Translator: Lafcadio Hearn Release date: September 18, 2007 [eBook #22661] Most recently updated: October 1, 2016 Language: English Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22661 Credits: Produced by David Widger *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLARIMONDE *** Produced by David Widger CLARIMONDE By Théophile Gautier Translated By Lafcadio Hearn 1908 Brother, you ask me if I have ever loved. Yes. My story is a strange and terrible one; and though I am sixty-six years of age, I scarcely dare even now to disturb the ashes of that memory. To you I can refuse nothing; but I should not relate such a tale to any less experienced mind. So strange were the circumstances of my story, that I can scarcely believe myself to have ever actually been a party to them. For more than three years I remained the victim of a most singular and diabolical illusion. Poor country priest though I was, I led every night in a dream--would to God it had been all a dream!--a most worldly life, a damning life, a life of Sardanapalus. One single look too freely cast upon a woman well-nigh caused me to lose my soul; but finally by the grace of God and the assistance of my patron saint, I succeeded in casting out the evil spirit that possessed me. My daily life was long interwoven with a nocturnal life of a totally different character. By day I was a priest of the Lord, occupied with prayer and sacred things; by night, from the instant that I closed my eyes I became a young nobleman, a fine connoisseur in women, dogs, and horses; gambling, drinking, and blaspheming; and when I awoke at early daybreak, it seemed to me, on the other hand, that I had been sleeping, and had only dreamed that I was a priest. Of this somnambulistic life there now remains to me only the recollection of certain scenes and words which I cannot banish from my memory; but although I never actually left the walls of my presbytery, one would think to hear me speak that I were a man who, weary of all worldly pleasures, had become a religious, seeking to end a tempestuous life in the service of God, rather than a humble seminarist who has grown old in this obscure curacy, situated in the depths of the woods and even isolated from the life of the century. Yes, I have loved as none in the world ever loved--with an insensate and furious passion--so violent that I am astonished it did not cause my heart to burst asunder. Ah, what nights--what nights! From my earliest childhood I had felt a vocation to the priesthood, so that all my studies were directed with that idea in view. Up to the age of twenty-four my life had been only a prolonged novitiate. Having completed my course of theology I successively received all the minor orders, and my superiors judged me worthy, despite my youth, to pass the last awful degree. My ordination was fixed for Easter week. I had never gone into the world. My world was confined by the walls of the college and the seminary. I knew in a vague sort of a way that there was something called Woman, but I never permitted my thoughts to dwell on such a subject, and I lived in a state of perfect innocence. Twice a year only I saw my infirm and aged mother, and in those visits were comprised my sole relations with the outer world. I regretted nothing; I felt not the least hesitation a

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urn:lemay:boston:document:the-romance-of-old-new-england-rooftrees

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https://boston.fyi/document/the-romance-of-old-new-england-rooftrees

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Version

1 · last changed 5 September 2026