Juan Valera (1824–1905). Pepita Jimenez.
The Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction. 1917.
June 11th
E
Pepita will in time forget her love and the weakness of which we were guilty.
Since that night I have not returned to her house. Antoñono has not made her appearance in ours.
By dint of entreaties I have obtained a formal promise from my father that we shall leave here on the 25th, the day after St. John’s day, which is here celebrated with splendid feasts, and on the eve of which there is a great vigil.
Absent from Pepita, I began to recover my serenity and to think that this first beginning of love was a trial of my virtue.
All these nights I have prayed, I have watched, I have performed many acts of penance.
The persistence of my prayers, the deep contrition of my soul, have found favor with the Lord, who has manifested to me His great mercy.
The Lord, in the words of the prophet, has sent fire to the stronghold of my spirit; He has illuminated my understanding, He has kindled my resolution, and He has given me guidance.
The working of the Divine love which animates the Supreme Will has had power, at times, without my deserving it, to lead me to that condition of prayerful contemplation in which the soul enjoys repose. I have cast out from the lower faculties of my soul every image—even her image; and I am persuaded, if pride does not deceive me, that, in perfect peace of mind and heart I have known and enjoyed the Supreme Good that dwells within the depths of the soul.
Compared with this good all else is worthless—compared with this beauty all else is deformity—compared with these heights all else is vile. Who would not forget and scorn every other love for the love of God?
Yes; the profane image of this woman shall depart finally and forever from my soul. I shall make of my prayers and of my penance a sharp scourge, and with it I will expel her therefrom, as Christ expelled the money-lenders from the Temple.