Page 588 - swanns-way

the Baron’s usual physiognomy, and lastly the broad ribbon
of the Legion of Honour across his breast, had made Swann
give that name; but actually, and in everything that the per-
son who appeared in his dream represented and recalled to
him, it was indeed Forcheville. For, from an incomplete and
changing set of images, Swann in his sleep drew false de-
ductions, enjoying, at the same time, such creative power
that he was able to reproduce himself by a simple act of di-
vision, like certain lower organisms; with the warmth that
he felt in his own palm he modelled the hollow of a strange
hand which he thought that he was clasping, and out of
feelings and impressions of which he was not yet conscious,
he brought about sudden vicissitudes which, by a chain of
logical sequences, would produce, at definite points in his
dream, the person required to receive his love or to star-
tle him awake. In an instant night grew black about him;
an alarum rang, the inhabitants ran past him, escaping
from their blazing houses; he could hear the thunder of
the surging waves, and also of his own heart, which, with
equal violence, was anxiously beating in his breast. Sud-
denly the speed of these palpitations redoubled, he felt a
pain, a nausea that were inexplicable; a peasant, dreadfully
burned, flung at him as he passed: ‘Come and ask Charlus
where Odette spent the night with her friend. He used to
go about with her, and she tells him everything. It was they
that started the fire.’ It was his valet, come to awaken him,
and saying:—-
‘Sir, it is eight o’clock, and the barber is here. I have told
him to call again in an hour.’

588 Swann’s Way