Una cuestión de honor
Era una cuestión de honor. Disparó primero y falló. El rostro
de alegría de su oponente contrastaba con la mueca de desesperación que se
reflejaba en sus facciones. Como asesor de Napoleón, ahora debería estar lejos
de aquí, en Versalles, a la espera de ser recibido por el emperador.
En un instante pasaron por su mente los acontecimientos que habían
dado lugar a aquel duelo. Ya nada importaba. Nunca había querido a su esposa. Fue
un matrimonio de conveniencias, y ahora estaba obligado a defender su honor,
estaba a punto de perder la vida.
Sin embargo en ese instante veía a su mujer con otros ojos. Su
ternura, el amor que siempre expresaba a sus hijos, su disposición a
comprenderlo todo. Y también la ausencia de cariño por parte de él, su
abandono. En cierto modo se consideraba culpable de muchas cosas.
Por fin, el oponente disparó. Oyó el sonido del proyectil y
luego algo negro, algo que le impedía seguir viendo en su imaginación a su
familia, a su esposa. Y todo se detuvo.
A matter of
honor
It was a
matter of honor. He fired first and failed. The face of joy of his opponent
contrasted with the grimace of despair that reflected his features. As the
Napoleon adviser, he should be far from here, at Versailles, waiting to be
received by the Emperor.
In an
instant, his mind remembered the events that had given rise to this duel.
Nothing mattered anymore. He had never wanted his wife. It was a marriage of
conveniences, and now he was obliged to defending his honor, and he was about
to lose his life.
But at that
moment he saw his wife with other eyes. His tenderness, the love that always
expressed his children, her disposition to understand everything. And also the
absence of affection on his part, his abandonment. In a way he found himself
guilty of many things.
At last,
the opponent fired his weapon. He heard the sound of the projectile and then
something black covered his eyes, something that prevented him from seeing in
his imagination to his family, to his wife. And everything stopped.
