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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:59 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:59 -0700 |
| commit | 7c569494b0999e4b44c4d9e3605afe835a945c36 (patch) | |
| tree | edb90d4f6341d78088e9cb67ce2ab5b820cb7687 /1369-h | |
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diff --git a/1369-h/1369-h.htm b/1369-h/1369-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e60ac73 --- /dev/null +++ b/1369-h/1369-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2589 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Paz, by Honore de Balzac + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1369 ***</div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + PAZ + </h1> + <h2> + (La Fausse Maitresse) + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Honore De Balzac + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + DEDICATION<br /><br /> Dedicated to the Comtesse Clara Maffei.<br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> PAZ </a> + </h3> + <h3> + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> ADDENDUM </a> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + PAZ + </h1> + <h3> + (LA FAUSSE MAITRESSE) + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + In September, 1835, one of the richest heiresses of the faubourg + Saint-Germain, Mademoiselle du Rouvre, the only daughter of the Marquis du + Rouvre, married Comte Adam Mitgislas Laginski, a young Polish exile. + </p> + <p> + We ask permission to write these Polish names as they are pronounced, to + spare our readers the aspect of the fortifications of consonants by which + the Slave language protects its vowels,—probably not to lose them, + considering how few there are. + </p> + <p> + The Marquis du Rouvre had squandered nearly the whole of a princely + fortune, which he obtained originally through his marriage with a + Demoiselle de Ronquerolles. Therefore, on her mother’s side Clementine du + Rouvre had the Marquis de Ronquerolles for uncle, and Madame de Serizy for + aunt. On her father’s side she had another uncle in the eccentric person + of the Chevalier du Rouvre, a younger son of the house, an old bachelor + who had become very rich by speculating in lands and houses. The Marquis + de Ronquerolles had the misfortune to lose both his children at the time + of the cholera, and the only son of Madame de Serizy, a young soldier of + great promise, perished in Africa in the affair of the Makta. In these + days rich families stand between the danger of impoverishing their + children if they have too many, or of extinguishing their names if they + have too few,—a singular result of the Code which Napoleon never + thought of. By a curious turn of fortune Clementine became, in spite of + her father having squandered his substance on Florine (one of the most + charming actresses in Paris), a great heiress. The Marquis de + Ronquerolles, a clever diplomatist under the new dynasty, his sister, + Madame de Serizy, and the Chevalier du Rouvre agreed, in order to save + their fortunes from the dissipations of the marquis, to settle them on + their niece, to whom, moreover, they each pledged themselves to pay ten + thousand francs a year from the day of her marriage. + </p> + <p> + It is quite unnecessary to say that the Polish count, though an exile, was + no expense to the French government. Comte Adam Laginski belonged to one + of the oldest and most illustrious families in Poland, which was allied to + many of the princely houses of Germany,—Sapieha, Radziwill, + Mniszech, Rzewuski, Czartoryski, Leczinski, Lubormirski, and all the other + great Sarmatian SKIS. But heraldic knowledge is not the most + distinguishing feature of the French nation under Louis-Philippe, and + Polish nobility was no great recommendation to the bourgeoisie who were + lording it in those days. Besides, when Adam first made his appearance, in + 1833, on the boulevard des Italiens, at Frascati, and at the Jockey-Club, + he was leading the life of a young man who, having lost his political + prospects, was taking his pleasure in Parisian dissipation. At first he + was thought to be a student. + </p> + <p> + The Polish nationality had at this period fallen as low in French + estimation, thanks to a shameful governmental reaction, as the republicans + had sought to raise it. The singular struggle of the Movement against + Resistance (two words which will be inexplicable thirty years hence) made + sport of what ought to have been truly respected,—the name of a + conquered nation to whom the French had offered hospitality, for whom + fetes had been given (with songs and dances by subscription), above all, a + nation which in the Napoleonic struggle between France and Europe had + given us six thousand men, and what men! + </p> + <p> + Do not infer from this that either side is taken here; either that of the + Emperor Nicholas against Poland, or that of Poland against the Emperor. It + would be a foolish thing to slip political discussion into tales that are + intended to amuse or interest. Besides, Russia and Poland were both right,—one + to wish the unity of its empire, the other to desire its liberty. Let us + say in passing that Poland might have conquered Russia by the influence of + her morals instead of fighting her with weapons; she should have imitated + China which, in the end, Chinesed the Tartars, and will, it is to be + hoped, Chinese the English. Poland ought to have Polonized Russia. + Poniatowski tried to do so in the least favorable portion of the empire; + but as a king he was little understood,—because, possibly, he did + not fully understand himself. + </p> + <p> + But how could the Parisians avoid disliking an unfortunate people who were + the cause of that shameful falsehood enacted during the famous review at + which all Paris declared its will to succor Poland? The Poles were held up + to them as the allies of the republican party, and they never once + remembered that Poland was a republic of aristocrats. From that day forth + the bourgeoisie treated with base contempt the exiles of the nation it had + worshipped a few days earlier. The wind of a riot is always enough to veer + the Parisians from north to south under any regime. It is necessary to + remember these sudden fluctuations of feeling in order to understand why + it was that in 1835 the word “Pole” conveyed a derisive meaning to a + people who consider themselves the wittiest and most courteous nation on + earth, and their city of Paris the focus of enlightenment, with the + sceptre of arts and literature within its grasp. + </p> + <p> + There are, alas! two sorts of Polish exiles,—the republican Poles, + sons of Lelewel, and the noble Poles, at the head of whom is Prince Adam + Czartoryski. The two classes are like fire and water; but why complain of + that? Such divisions are always to be found among exiles, no matter of + what nation they may be, or in what countries they take refuge. They carry + their countries and their hatreds with them. Two French priests, who had + emigrated to Brussels during the Revolution, showed the utmost horror of + each other, and when one of them was asked why, he replied with a glance + at his companion in misery: “Why? because he’s a Jansenist!” Dante would + gladly have stabbed a Guelf had he met him in exile. This explains the + virulent attacks of the French against the venerable Prince Adam + Czartoryski, and the dislike shown to the better class of Polish exiles by + the shopkeeping Caesars and the licensed Alexanders of Paris. + </p> + <p> + In 1834, therefore, Adam Mitgislas Laginski was something of a butt for + Parisian pleasantry. + </p> + <p> + “He is rather nice, though he is a Pole,” said Rastignac. + </p> + <p> + “All these Poles pretend to be great lords,” said Maxime de Trailles, “but + this one does pay his gambling debts, and I begin to think he must have + property.” + </p> + <p> + Without wishing to offend these banished men, it may be allowable to + remark that the light-hearted, careless inconsistency of the Sarmatian + character does justify in some degree the satire of the Parisians, who, by + the bye, would behave in like circumstances exactly as the Poles do. The + French aristocracy, so nobly succored during the Revolution by the Polish + lords, certainly did not return the kindness in 1832. Let us have the + melancholy courage to admit this, and to say that the faubourg + Saint-Germain is still the debtor of Poland. + </p> + <p> + Was Comte Adam rich, or was he poor, or was he an adventurer? This problem + was long unsolved. The diplomatic salons, faithful to instructions, + imitated the silence of the Emperor Nicholas, who held that all Polish + exiles were virtually dead and buried. The court of the Tuileries, and all + who took their cue from it, gave striking proof of the political quality + which was then dignified by the name of sagacity. They turned their backs + on a Russian prince with whom they had all been on intimate terms during + the Emigration, merely because it was said that the Emperor Nicholas gave + him the cold shoulder. Between the caution of the court and the prudence + of the diplomates, the Polish exiles of distinction lived in Paris in the + Biblical solitude of “super flumina Babylonis,” or else they haunted a few + salons which were the neutral ground of all opinions. In a city of + pleasure, like Paris, where amusements abound on all sides, the heedless + gayety of a Pole finds twice as many encouragements as it needs to a life + of dissipation. + </p> + <p> + It must be said, however, that Adam had two points against him,—his + appearance, and his mental equipment. There are two species of Pole, as + there are two species of Englishwoman. When an Englishwoman is not very + handsome she is horribly ugly. Comte Adam belonged in the second category + of human beings. His small face, rather sharp in expression, looked as if + it had been pressed in a vise. His short nose, and fair hair, and reddish + beard and moustache made him look all the more like a goat because he was + small and thin, and his tarnished yellow eyes caught you with that oblique + look which Virgil celebrates. How came he, in spite of such obvious + disadvantages, to possess really exquisite manners and a distinguished + air? The problem is solved partly by the care and elegance of his dress, + and partly by the training given him by his mother, a Radziwill. His + courage amounted to daring, but his mind was not more than was needed for + the ephemeral talk and pleasantry of Parisian conversation. And yet it + would have been difficult to find among the young men of fashion in Paris + a single one who was his superior. Young men talk a great deal too much in + these days of horses, money, taxes, deputies; French <i>conversation</i> + is no longer what it was. Brilliancy of mind needs leisure and certain + social inequalities to bring it out. There is, probably, more real + conversation in Vienna or St. Petersburg than in Paris. Equals do not need + to employ delicacy or shrewdness in speech; they blurt out things as they + are. Consequently the dandies of Paris did not discover the great seigneur + in the rather heedless young fellow who, in their talks, would flit from + one subject to another, all the more intent upon amusement because he had + just escaped from a great peril, and, finding himself in a city where his + family was unknown, felt at liberty to lead a loose life without the risk + of disgracing his name. + </p> + <p> + But one fine day in 1834 Adam suddenly bought a house in the rue de la + Pepiniere. Six months later his style of living was second to none in + Paris. About the time when he thus began to take himself seriously he had + seen Clementine du Rouvre at the Opera and had fallen in love with her. A + year later the marriage took place. The salon of Madame d’Espard was the + first to sound his praises. Mothers of daughters then learned too late + that as far back as the year 900 the family of the Laginski was among the + most illustrious of the North. By an act of prudence which was very + unPolish, the mother of the young count had mortgaged her entire property + on the breaking out of the insurrection for an immense sum lent by two + Jewish bankers in Paris. Comte Adam was now in possession of eighty + thousand francs a year. When this was discovered society ceased to be + surprised at the imprudence which had been laid to the charge of Madame de + Serizy, the Marquis de Ronquerolles, and the Chevalier du Rouvre in + yielding to the foolish passion of their niece. People jumped, as usual, + from one extreme of judgment to the other. + </p> + <p> + During the winter of 1836 Comte Adam was the fashion, and Clementine + Laginska one of the queens of Paris. Madame Laginska is now a member of + that charming circle of young women represented by Mesdames de Lestorade, + de Portenduere, Marie de Vandenesse, du Guenic, and de Maufrigneuse, the + flowers of our present Paris, who live at such immeasurable distance from + the parvenus, the vulgarians, and the speculators of the new regime. + </p> + <p> + This preamble is necessary to show the sphere in which was done one of + those noble actions, less rare than the calumniators of our time admit,—actions + which, like pearls, the fruit of pain and suffering, are hidden within + rough shells, lost in the gulf, the sea, the tossing waves of what we call + society, the century, Paris, London, St. Petersburg,—or what you + will. + </p> + <p> + If the axiom that architecture is the expression of manner and morals was + ever proved, it was certainly after the insurrection of 1830, during the + present reign of the house of Orleans. As all the old fortunes are + diminishing in France, the majestic mansions of our ancestors are + constantly being demolished and replaced by species of phalansteries, in + which the peers of July occupy the third floor above some newly enriched + empirics on the lower floors. A mixture of styles is confusedly employed. + As there is no longer a real court or nobility to give the tone, there is + no harmony in the production of art. Never, on the other hand, has + architecture discovered so many economical ways of imitating the real and + the solid, or displayed more resources, more talent, in distributing them. + Propose to an architect to build upon the garden at the back of an old + mansion, and he will run you up a little Louvre overloaded with ornament. + He will manage to get in a courtyard, stables, and if you care for it, a + garden. Inside the house he will accommodate a quantity of little rooms + and passages. He is so clever in deceiving the eye that you think you will + have plenty of space; but it is only a nest of small rooms, after all, in + which a ducal family has to turn itself about in the space that its own + bakehouse formerly occupied. + </p> + <p> + The hotel of the Comtesse Laginska, rue de la Pepiniere, is one of these + creations, and stands between court and garden. On the right, in the + court, are the kitchens and offices; to the left the coachhouse and + stables. The porter’s lodge is between two charming portes-cocheres. The + chief luxury of the house is a delightful greenhouse contrived at the end + of a boudoir on the ground-floor which opens upon an admirable suite of + reception rooms. An English philanthropist had built this architectural + bijou, designed the garden, added the greenhouse, polished the doors, + bricked the courtyard, painted the window-frames green, and realized, in + short, a dream which resembled (proportions excepted) George the Fourth’s + Pavilion at Brighton. The inventive and industrious Parisian workmen had + moulded the doors and window-frames; the ceilings were imitated from the + middle-ages or those of a Venetian palace; marble veneering abounded on + the outer walls. Steinbock and Francois Souchet had designed the + mantel-pieces and the panels above the doors; Schinner had painted the + ceilings in his masterly manner. The beauties of the staircase, white as a + woman’s arm, defied those of the hotel Rothschild. On account of the riots + and the unsettled times, the cost of this folly was only about eleven + hundred thousand francs,—to an Englishman a mere nothing. All this + luxury, called princely by persons who do not know what real princes are, + was built in the garden of the house of a purveyor made a Croesus by the + Revolution, who had escaped to Brussels and died there after going into + bankruptcy. The Englishman died in Paris, of Paris; for to many persons + Paris is a disease,—sometimes several diseases. His widow, a + Methodist, had a horror of the little nabob establishment, and ordered it + to be sold. Comte Adam bought it at a bargain; and how he came to do so + shall presently be made known, for bargains were not at all in his line as + a grand seigneur. + </p> + <p> + Behind the house lay the verdant velvet of an English lawn shaded at the + lower end by a clump of exotic trees, in the midst of which stood a + Chinese pagoda with soundless belfries and motionless golden eggs. The + greenhouse concealed the garden wall on the northern side, the opposite + wall was covered with climbing plants trained upon poles painted green and + connected with crossway trellises. This lawn, this world of flowers, the + gravelled paths, the simulated forest, the verdant palisades, were + contained within the space of five and twenty square rods, which are worth + to-day four hundred thousand francs,—the value of an actual forest. + Here, in this solitude in the middle of Paris, the birds sang, thrushes, + nightingales, warblers, bulfinches, and sparrows. The greenhouse was like + an immense jardiniere, filling the air with perfume in winter as in + summer. The means by which its atmosphere was made to order, torrid as in + China or temperate as in Italy, were cleverly concealed. Pipes in which + hot water circulated, or steam, were either hidden under ground or + festooned with plants overhead. The boudoir was a large room. The miracle + of the modern Parisian fairy named Architecture is to get all these many + and great things out of a limited bit of ground. + </p> + <p> + The boudoir of the young countess was arranged to suit the taste of the + artist to whom Comte Adam entrusted the decoration of the house. It is too + full of pretty nothings to be a place for repose; one scarce knows where + to sit down among carved Chinese work-tables with their myriads of + fantastic figures inlaid in ivory, cups of yellow topaz mounted on + filagree, mosaics which inspire theft, Dutch pictures in the style which + Schinner has adopted, angels such as Steinbock conceived but often could + not execute, statuettes modelled by genius pursued by creditors (the real + explanation of the Arabian myth), superb sketches by our best artists, + lids of chests made into panels alternating with fluted draperies of + Italian silk, portieres hanging from rods of old oak in tapestried masses + on which the figures of some hunting scene are swarming, pieces of + furniture worthy to have belonged to Madame de Pompadour, Persian rugs, et + cetera. For a last graceful touch, all these elegant things were subdued + by the half-light which filtered through embroidered curtains and added to + their charm. On a table between the windows, among various curiosities, + lay a whip, the handle designed by Mademoiselle de Fauveau, which proved + that the countess rode on horseback. + </p> + <p> + Such is a lady’s boudoir in 1837,—an exhibition of the contents of + many shops, which amuse the eye, as if ennui were the one thing to be + dreaded by the social world of the liveliest and most stirring capital in + Europe. Why is there nothing of an inner life? nothing which leads to + revery, nothing reposeful? Why indeed? Because no one in our day is sure + of the future; we are living our lives like prodigal annuitants. + </p> + <p> + One morning Clementine appeared to be thinking of something. She was lying + at full length on one of those marvellous couches from which it is almost + impossible to rise, the upholsterer having invented them for lovers of the + “far niente” and its attendant joys of laziness to sink into. The doors of + the greenhouse were open, letting the odors of vegetation and the perfume + of the tropics pervade the room. The young wife was looking at her husband + who was smoking a narghile, the only form of pipe she would have suffered + in that room. The portieres, held back by cords, gave a vista through two + elegant salons, one white and gold, comparable only to that of the hotel + Forbin-Janson, the other in the style of the Renaissance. The dining-room, + which had no rival in Paris except that of the Baron de Nucingen, was at + the end of a short gallery decorated in the manner of the middle-ages. + This gallery opened on the side of the courtyard upon a large antechamber, + through which could be seen the beauties of the staircase. + </p> + <p> + The count and countess had just finished breakfast; the sky was a sheet of + azure without a cloud, April was nearly over. They had been married two + years, and Clementine had just discovered for the first time that there + was something resembling a secret or a mystery in her household. The Pole, + let us say it to his honor, is usually helpless before a woman; he is so + full of tenderness for her that in Poland he becomes her inferior, though + Polish women make admirable wives. Now a Pole is still more easily + vanquished by a Parisian woman. Consequently Comte Adam, pressed by + questions, did not even attempt the innocent roguery of selling the + suspected secret. It is always wise with a woman to get some good out of a + mystery; she will like you the better for it, as a swindler respects an + honest man the more when he finds he cannot swindle him. Brave in heart + but not in speech, Comte Adam merely stipulated that he should not be + compelled to answer until he had finished his narghile. + </p> + <p> + “If any difficulty occurred when we were travelling,” said Clementine, + “you always dismissed it by saying, ‘Paz will settle that.’ You never + wrote to any one but Paz. When we returned here everybody kept saying, + ‘the captain, the captain.’ If I want the carriage—‘the captain.’ Is + there a bill to pay—‘the captain.’ If my horse is not properly + bitted, they must speak to Captain Paz. In short, it is like a game of + dominoes—Paz is everywhere. I hear of nothing but Paz, but I never + see Paz. Who and what is Paz? Why don’t you bring forth your Paz?” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t everything going on right?” asked the count, taking the + “bocchettino” of his narghile from his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Everything is going on so right that other people with an income of two + hundred thousand francs would ruin themselves by going at our pace, and we + have only one hundred and ten thousand.” + </p> + <p> + So saying she pulled the bell-cord (an exquisite bit of needlework). A + footman entered, dressed like a minister. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Captain Paz that I wish to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “If you think you are going to find out anything that way—” said + Comte Adam, laughing. + </p> + <p> + It is well to mention that Adam and Clementine, married in December, 1835, + had gone soon after the wedding to Italy, Switzerland, and Germany, where + they spent the greater part of two years. Returning to Paris in November, + 1837, the countess entered society for the first time as a married woman + during the winter which had just ended, and she then became aware of the + existence, half-suppressed and wholly dumb but very useful, of a species + of factotum who was personally invisible, named Paz,—spelt thus, but + pronounced “Patz.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le capitaine Paz begs Madame la comtesse to excuse him,” said + the footman, returning. “He is at the stables; as soon as he has changed + his dress Comte Paz will present himself to Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “What was he doing at the stables?” + </p> + <p> + “He was showing them how to groom Madame’s horse,” said the man. “He was + not pleased with the way Constantin did it.” + </p> + <p> + The countess looked at the footman. He was perfectly serious and did not + add to his words the sort of smile by which servants usually comment on + the actions of a superior who seems to them to derogate from his position. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! he was grooming Cora.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame la comtesse intends to ride out this morning?” said the footman, + leaving the room without further answer. + </p> + <p> + “Is Paz a Pole?” asked Clementine, turning to her husband, who nodded by + way of affirmation. + </p> + <p> + Madame Laginska was silent, examining Adam. With her feet extended upon a + cushion and her head poised like that of a bird on the edge of its nest + listening to the noises in a grove, she would have seemed enchanting even + to a blase man. Fair and slender, and wearing her hair in curls, she was + not unlike those semi-romantic pictures in the Keepsakes, especially when + dressed, as she was this morning, in a breakfast gown of Persian silk, the + folds of which could not disguise the beauty of her figure or the slimness + of her waist. The silk with its brilliant colors being crossed upon the + bosom showed the spring of the neck,—its whiteness contrasting + delightfully against the tones of a guipure lace which lay upon her + shoulders. Her eyes and their long black lashes added at this moment to + the expression of curiosity which puckered her pretty mouth. On the + forehead, which was well modelled, an observer would have noticed a + roundness characteristic of the true Parisian woman,—self-willed, + merry, well-informed, but inaccessible to vulgar seductions. Her hands, + which were almost transparent, were hanging down at the end of each arm of + her chair; the tapering fingers, slightly turned up at their points, + showed nails like almonds, which caught the light. Adam smiled at his + wife’s impatience, and looked at her with a glance which two years of + married life had not yet chilled. Already the little countess had made + herself mistress of the situation, for she scarcely paid attention to her + husband’s admiration. In fact, in the look which she occasionally cast at + him, there seemed to be the consciousness of a Frenchwoman’s ascendancy + over the puny, volatile, and red-haired Pole. + </p> + <p> + “Here comes Paz,” said the count, hearing a step which echoed through the + gallery. + </p> + <p> + The countess beheld a tall and handsome man, well-made, and bearing on his + face the signs of pain which come of inward strength and secret endurance + of sorrow. He wore one of those tight, frogged overcoats which were then + called “polonaise.” Thick, black hair, rather unkempt, covered his square + head, and Clementine noticed his broad forehead shining like a block of + white marble, for Paz held his visored cap in his hand. The hand itself + was like that of the Infant Hercules. Robust health flourished on his + face, which was divided by a large Roman nose and reminded Clementine of + some handsome Transteverino. A black silk cravat added to the martial + appearance of this six-foot mystery, with eyes of jet and Italian fervor. + The amplitude of his pleated trousers, which allowed only the tips of his + boots to be seen, revealed his faithfulness to the fashions of his own + land. There was something really burlesque to a romantic woman in the + striking contrast no one could fail to remark between the captain and the + count, the little Pole with his pinched face and the stalwart soldier. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Adam,” he said familiarly. Then he bowed courteously as he + asked Clementine what he could do for her. + </p> + <p> + “You are Laginski’s friend!” exclaimed the countess. + </p> + <p> + “For life and death,” answered Paz, to whom the count threw a smile of + affection as he drew a last puff from his perfumed pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Then why don’t you take your meals with us? why did you not accompany us + to Italy and Switzerland? why do you hide yourself in such a way that I am + unable to thank you for the constant services that you do for us?” said + the countess, with much vivacity of manner but no feeling. + </p> + <p> + In fact, she thought she perceived in Paz a sort of voluntary servitude. + Such an idea carried with it in her mind a certain contempt for a social + amphibian, a being half-secretary, half-bailiff, and yet neither the one + nor the other, a poor relation, an embarrassing friend. + </p> + <p> + “Because, countess,” he answered with perfect ease of manner, “there are + no thanks due. I am Adam’s friend, and it gives me pleasure to take care + of his interests.” + </p> + <p> + “And you remain standing for your pleasure, too,” remarked Comte Adam. + </p> + <p> + Paz sat down on a chair near the door. + </p> + <p> + “I remember seeing you about the time I was married, and afterwards in the + courtyard,” said Clementine. “But why do you put yourself in a position of + inferiority,—you, Adam’s friend?” + </p> + <p> + “I am perfectly indifferent to the opinion of the Parisians,” he replied. + “I live for myself, or, if you like, for you two.” + </p> + <p> + “But the opinion of the world as to a friend of my husband is not + indifferent to me—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, madame, the world will be satisfied if you tell them I am ‘an + original.’” + </p> + <p> + After a moment’s silence he added, “Are you going out to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you come with us to the Bois?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, Paz bowed and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + “What a good soul he is!” said Adam. “He has all the simplicity of a + child.” + </p> + <p> + “Now tell me all about your relations with him,” said Clementine. + </p> + <p> + “Paz, my dear,” said Laginski, “belongs to a noble family as old and + illustrious as our own. One of the Pazzi of Florence, at the time of their + disasters, fled to Poland, where he settled with some of his property and + founded the Paz family, to which the title of count was granted. This + family, which distinguished itself greatly in the glorious days of our + royal republic, became rich. The graft from the tree that was felled in + Italy flourished so vigorously in Poland that there are several branches + of the family still there. I need not tell you that some are rich and some + are poor. Our Paz is the scion of a poor branch. He was an orphan, without + other fortune than his sword, when he served in the regiment of the Grand + Duke Constantine at the time of our revolution. Joining the Polish cause, + he fought like a Pole, like a patriot, like a man who has nothing,—three + good reasons for fighting well. In his last affair, thinking he was + followed by his men, he dashed upon a Russian battery and was taken + prisoner. I was there. His brave act roused me. ‘Let us go and get him!’ I + said to my troop, and we charged the battery like a lot of foragers. I got + Paz—I was the seventh man; we started twenty and came back eight, + counting Paz. After Warsaw was sold we were forced to escape those + Russians. By a curious chance, Paz and I happened to come together again, + at the same hour and the same place, on the other side of the Vistula. I + saw the poor captain arrested by some Prussians, who made themselves the + blood-hounds of the Russians. When we have fished a man out of the Styx we + cling to him. This new danger for poor Paz made me so unhappy that I let + myself be taken too, thinking I could help him. Two men can get away where + one will perish. Thanks to my name and some family connections in Prussia, + the authorities shut their eyes to my escape. I got my dear captain + through as a man of no consequence, a family servant, and we reached + Dantzic. There we got on board a Dutch vessel and went to London. It took + us two months to get there. My mother was ill in England, and expecting + me. Paz and I took care of her till her death, which the Polish troubles + hastened. Then we left London and came to France. Men who go through such + adversities become like brothers. When I reached Paris, at twenty-two + years of age, and found I had an income of over sixty thousand francs a + year, without counting the proceeds of the diamonds and the pictures sold + by my mother, I wanted to secure the future of my dear Paz before I + launched into dissipation. I had often noticed the sadness in his eyes—sometimes + tears were in them. I had had good reason to understand his soul, which is + noble, grand, and generous to the core. I thought he might not like to be + bound by benefits to a friend who was six years younger than himself, + unless he could repay them. I was careless and frivolous, just as a young + fellow is, and I knew I was certain to ruin myself at play, or get + inveigled by some woman, and Paz and I might then be parted; and though I + had every intention of always looking out for him, I knew I might sometime + or other forget to provide for him. In short, my dear angel, I wanted to + spare him the pain and mortification of having to ask me for money, or of + having to hunt me up if he got into distress. SO, one morning, after + breakfast, when we were sitting with our feet on the andirons smoking + pipes, I produced,—with the utmost precaution, for I saw him look at + me uneasily,—a certificate of the Funds payable to bearer for a + certain sum of money a year.” + </p> + <p> + Clementine jumped up and went and seated herself on Adam’s knee, put her + arms round his neck, and kissed him. “Dear treasure!” she said, “how + handsome he is! Well, what did Paz do?” + </p> + <p> + “Thaddeus turned pale,” said the count, “but he didn’t say a word.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! his name is Thaddeus, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; Thaddeus folded the paper and gave it back to me, and then he said: + ‘I thought, Adam, that we were one for life or death, and that we should + never part. Do you want to be rid of me?’ ‘Oh!’ I said, ‘if you take it + that way, Thaddeus, don’t let us say another word about it. If I ruin + myself you shall be ruined too.’ ‘You haven’t fortune enough to live as a + Laginski should,’ he said, ‘and you need a friend who will take care of + your affairs, and be a father and a brother and a trusty confidant.’ My + dear child, as Paz said that he had in his look and voice, calm as they + were, a maternal emotion, and also the gratitude of an Arab, the fidelity + of a dog, the friendship of a savage,—not displayed, but ever ready. + Faith! I seized him, as we Poles do, with a hand on each shoulder, and I + kissed him on the lips. ‘For life and death, then! all that I have is + yours—do what you will with it.’ It was he who found me this house + and bought it for next to nothing. He sold my Funds high and bought in + low, and we have paid for this barrack with the profits. He knows horses, + and he manages to buy and sell at such advantage that my stable really + costs very little; and yet I have the finest horses and the most elegant + equipages in all Paris. Our servants, brave Polish soldiers chosen by him, + would go through fire and water for us. I seem, as you say, to be ruining + myself; and yet Paz keeps the house with such method and economy that he + has even repaired some of my foolish losses at play,—the thoughtless + folly of a young man. My dear, Thaddeus is as shrewd as two Genoese, as + eager for gain as a Polish Jew, and provident as a good housekeeper. I + never could force him to live as I did when I was a bachelor. Sometimes I + had to use a sort of friendly coercion to make him go to the theatre with + me when I was alone, or to the jovial little dinners I used to give at a + tavern. He doesn’t like social life.” + </p> + <p> + “What does he like, then?” asked Clementine. + </p> + <p> + “Poland; he loves Poland and pines for it. His only spendings are sums he + gives, more in my name than in his own, to some of our poor + brother-exiles.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I shall love him, the fine fellow!” said the countess, “he looks to + me as simple-hearted as he is grand.” + </p> + <p> + “All these pretty things you have about you,” continued Adam, who praised + his friend in the noblest sincerity, “he picked up; he bought them at + auction, or as bargains from the dealers. Oh! he’s keener than they are + themselves. If you see him rubbing his hands in the courtyard, you may be + sure he has traded away one good horse for a better. He lives for me; his + happiness is to see me elegant, in a perfectly appointed equipage. The + duties he takes upon himself are all accomplished without fuss or + emphasis. One evening I lost twenty thousand francs at whist. ‘What will + Paz say?’ thought I as I walked home. Paz paid them to me, not without a + sigh; but he never reproached me, even by a look. But that sigh of his + restrained me more than the remonstrances of uncles, mothers, or wives + could have done. ‘Do you regret the money?’ I said to him. ‘Not for you or + me, no,’ he replied; ‘but I was thinking that twenty poor Poles could have + lived a year on that sum.’ You must understand that the Pazzi are fully + the equal of the Laginski, so I couldn’t regard my dear Paz as an + inferior. I never went out or came in without going first to Paz, as I + would to my father. My fortune is his; and Thaddeus knows that if danger + threatened him I would fling myself into it and drag him out, as I have + done before.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is saying a good deal, my dear friend,” said the countess. + “Devotion is like a flash of lightning. Men devote themselves in battle, + but they no longer have the heart for it in Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied Adam, “I am always ready, as in battle, to devote myself + to Paz. Our two characters have kept their natural asperities and defects, + but the mutual comprehension of our souls has tightened the bond already + close between us. It is quite possible to save a man’s life and kill him + afterwards if we find him a bad fellow; but Paz and I know THAT of each + other which makes our friendship indissoluble. There’s a constant exchange + of happy thoughts and impressions between us; and really, perhaps, such a + friendship as ours is richer than love.” + </p> + <p> + A pretty hand closed the count’s mouth so promptly that the action was + somewhat like a blow. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “friendship, my dear angel, knows nothing of bankrupt + sentiments and collapsed joys. Love, after giving more than it has, ends + by giving less than it receives.” + </p> + <p> + “One side as well as the other,” remarked Clementine laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Adam, “whereas friendship only increases. You need not + pucker up your lips at that, for we are, you and I, as much friends as + lovers; we have, at least I hope so, combined the two sentiments in our + happy marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll explain to you what it is that has made you and Thaddeus such good + friends,” said Clementine. “The difference in the lives you lead comes + from your tastes and from necessity; from your likings, not your + positions. As far as one can judge from merely seeing a man once, and also + from what you tell me, there are times when the subaltern might become the + superior.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Paz is truly my superior,” said Adam, naively; “I have no advantage + over him except mere luck.” + </p> + <p> + His wife kissed him for the generosity of those words. + </p> + <p> + “The extreme care with which he hides the grandeur of his feelings is one + form of his superiority,” continued the count. “I said to him once: ‘You + are a sly one; you have in your heart a vast domain within which you live + and think.’ He has a right to the title of count; but in Paris he won’t be + called anything but captain.” + </p> + <p> + “The fact is that the Florentine of the middle-ages has reappeared in our + century,” said the countess. “Dante and Michael Angelo are in him.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the very truth,” cried Adam. “He is a poet in soul.” + </p> + <p> + “So here I am, married to two Poles,” said the young countess, with a + gesture worthy of some genius of the stage. + </p> + <p> + “Dear child!” said Adam, pressing her to him, “it would have made me very + unhappy if my friend did not please you. We were both rather afraid of it, + he and I, though he was delighted at my marriage. You will make him very + happy if you tell him that you love him,—yes, as an old friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go and dress, the day is so fine; and we will all three ride + together,” said Clementine, ringing for her maid. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + Paz was leading so subterranean a life that the fashionable world of Paris + asked who he was when the Comtesse Laginska was seen in the Bois de + Boulogne riding between her husband and a stranger. During the ride + Clementine insisted that Thaddeus should dine with them. This caprice of + the sovereign lady compelled Paz to make an evening toilet. Clementine + dressed for the occasion with a certain coquetry, in a style that + impressed even Adam himself when she entered the salon where the two + friends awaited her. + </p> + <p> + “Comte Paz,” she said, “you must go with us to the Opera.” + </p> + <p> + This was said in the tone which, coming from a woman means: “If you refuse + we shall quarrel.” + </p> + <p> + “Willingly, madame,” replied the captain. “But as I have not the fortune + of a count, have the kindness to call me captain.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, captain; give me your arm,” she said,—taking it and + leading the way to the dining-room with the flattering familiarity which + enchants all lovers. + </p> + <p> + The countess placed the captain beside her; his behavior was that of a + poor sub-lieutenant dining at his general’s table. He let Clementine talk, + listened deferentially as to a superior, did not differ with her in + anything, and waited to be questioned before he spoke at all. He seemed + actually stupid to the countess, whose coquettish little ways missed their + mark in presence of such frigid gravity and conventional respect. In vain + Adam kept saying: “Do be lively, Thaddeus; one would really suppose you + were not at home. You must have made a wager to disconcert Clementine.” + Thaddeus continued heavy and half asleep. When the servants left the room + at the end of the dessert the captain explained that his habits were + diametrically opposite to those of society,—he went to bed at eight + o’clock and got up very early in the morning; and he excused his dulness + on the ground of being sleepy. + </p> + <p> + “My intention in taking you to the Opera was to amuse you, captain; but do + as you prefer,” said Clementine, rather piqued. + </p> + <p> + “I will go,” said Paz. + </p> + <p> + “Duprez sings ‘Guillaume Tell,’” remarked Adam. “But perhaps you would + rather go to the ‘Varietes’?” + </p> + <p> + The captain smiled and rang the bell. “Tell Constantin,” he said to the + footman, “to put the horses to the carriage instead of the coupe. We + should be rather squeezed otherwise,” he said to the count. + </p> + <p> + “A Frenchman would have forgotten that,” remarked Clementine, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but we are Florentines transplanted to the North,” answered Thaddeus + with a refinement of accent and a look in his eyes which made his conduct + at table seem assumed for the occasion. There was too evident a contrast + between his involuntary self-revelation in this speech and his behavior + during dinner. Clementine examined the captain with a few of those covert + glances which show a woman’s surprise and also her capacity for + observation. + </p> + <p> + It resulted from this little incident that silence reigned in the salon + while the three took their coffee, a silence rather annoying to Adam, who + was incapable of imagining the cause of it. Clementine no longer tried to + draw out Thaddeus. The captain, on the other hand, retreated within his + military stiffness and came out of it no more, neither on the way to the + Opera nor in the box, where he seemed to be asleep. + </p> + <p> + “You see, madame, that I am a very stupid man,” he said during the dance + in the last act of “Guillaume Tell.” “Am I not right to keep, as the + saying is, to my own specialty?” + </p> + <p> + “In truth, my dear captain, you are neither a talker nor a man of the + world, but you are perhaps Polish.” + </p> + <p> + “Therefore leave me to look after your pleasures, your property, your + household—it is all I am good for.” + </p> + <p> + “Tartufe! pooh!” cried Adam, laughing. “My dear, he is full of ardor; he + is thoroughly educated; he can, if he chooses, hold his own in any salon. + Clementine, don’t believe his modesty.” + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take + the carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.” + </p> + <p> + Clementine bowed her head and let him go without replying. + </p> + <p> + “What a bear!” she said to the count. “You are a great deal nicer.” + </p> + <p> + Adam pressed her hand when no one was looking. + </p> + <p> + “Poor, dear Thaddeus,” he said, “he is trying to make himself disagreeable + where most men would try to seem more amiable than I.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she said, “I am not sure but what there is some <i>calculation</i> + in his behavior; he would have taken in an ordinary woman.” + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later, when the chasseur, Boleslas, called out “Gate!” and + the carriage was waiting for it to swing back, Clementine said to her + husband, “Where does the captain perch?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, there!” replied Adam, pointing to a floor above the porte-cochere + which had one window looking on the street. “His apartments are over the + coachhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Who lives on the other side?” asked the countess. + </p> + <p> + “No one as yet,” said Adam; “I mean that apartment for our children and + their instructors.” + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t go to bed,” said the countess, observing lights in Thaddeus’s + rooms when the carriage had passed under the portico supported by columns + copied from those of the Tuileries, which replaced a vulgar zinc awning + painted in stripes like cloth. + </p> + <p> + The captain, in his dressing-gown with a pipe in his mouth, was watching + Clementine as she entered the vestibule. The day had been a hard one for + him. And here is the reason why: A great and terrible emotion had taken + possession of his heart on the day when Adam made him go to the Opera to + see and give his opinion on Mademoiselle du Rouvre; and again when he saw + her on the occasion of her marriage, and recognized in her the woman whom + a man is forced to love exclusively. For this reason Paz strongly advised + and promoted the long journey to Italy and elsewhere after the marriage. + At peace so long as Clementine was away, his trial was renewed on the + return of the happy household. As he sat at his window on this memorable + night, smoking his latakia in a pipe of wild-cherry wood six feet long, + given to him by Adam, these are the thoughts that were passing through his + mind:— + </p> + <p> + “I, and God, who will reward me for suffering in silence, alone know how I + love her! But how shall I manage to have neither her love nor her + dislike?” + </p> + <p> + And his thoughts travelled far on this strange theme. + </p> + <p> + It must not be supposed that Thaddeus was living without pleasure, in the + midst of his sufferings. The deceptions of this day, for instance, were a + source of inward joy to him. Since the return of the count and countess he + had daily felt ineffable satisfactions in knowing himself necessary to a + household which, without his devotion to its interests, would infallibly + have gone to ruin. What fortune can bear the strain of reckless + prodigality? Clementine, brought up by a spendthrift father, knew nothing + of the management of a household which the women of the present day, + however rich or noble they are, are often compelled to undertake + themselves. How few, in these days, keep a steward. Adam, on the other + hand, son of one of the great Polish lords who let themselves be preyed on + by the Jews, and are wholly incapable of managing even the wreck of their + vast fortunes (for fortunes are vast in Poland), was not of a nature to + check his own fancies or those of his wife. Left to himself he would + probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had prevented him from + gambling at the Bourse, and that says all. + </p> + <p> + Under these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine in + spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and travelling + in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note of his life, + held him bound to that household where he alone could look after the + affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam and Clementine + had given him peace. But the countess had returned more lovely than ever, + enjoying the freedom which marriage brings to a Parisian woman, displaying + the graces of a young wife and the nameless attraction she gains from the + happiness, or the independence, bestowed upon her by a young man as + trustful, as chivalric, and as much in love as Adam. To know that he was + the pivot on which the splendor the household depended, to see Clementine + when she got out of her carriage on returning from some fete, or got into + it in the morning when she took her drive, to meet her on the boulevards + in her pretty equipage, looking like a flower in a whorl of leaves, + inspired poor Thaddeus with mysterious delights, which glowed in the + depths of his heart but gave no signs upon his face. + </p> + <p> + How happened it that for five whole months the countess had never + perceived the captain? Because he hid himself from her knowledge, and + carefully concealed the pains he took to avoid her. Nothing so resembles + the Divine love as hopeless human love. A man must have great depth of + heart to devote himself in silence and obscurity to a woman. In such a + heart is the worship of love for love’s sake only—sublime avarice, + sublime because ever generous and founded on the mysterious existence of + the principles of creation. <i>Effect</i> is nature, and nature is + enchanting; it belongs to man, to the poet, the painter, the lover. But <i>Cause</i>, + to a few privileged souls and to certain mighty thinkers, is superior to + nature. Cause is God. In the sphere of causes live the Newtons and all + such thinkers as Laplace, Kepler, Descartes, Malebranche, Spinoza, Buffon; + also the true poets and solitarys of the second Christian century, and the + Saint Teresas of Spain, and such sublime ecstatics. All human sentiments + bear analogy to these conditions whenever the mind abandons Effect for + Cause. Thaddeus had reached this height, at which all things change their + relative aspect. Filled with the joys unutterable of a creator he had + attained in his love to all that genius has revealed to us of grandeur. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he was thinking to himself as he watched the curling smoke of his + pipe, “she was not entirely deceived. She might break up my friendship + with Adam if she took a dislike to me; but if she coquetted with me to + amuse herself, what would become of me?” + </p> + <p> + The conceit of this last supposition was so foreign to the modest nature + and Teutonic timidity of the captain that he scolded himself for admitting + it, and went to bed, resolved to await events before deciding on a course. + </p> + <p> + The next day Clementine breakfasted very contentedly without Paz, and + without even noticing his disobedience to her orders. It happened to be + her reception day, when the house was thrown open with a splendor that was + semi-royal. She paid no attention to the absence of Comte Paz, on whom all + the burden of these parade days fell. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” thought he, as he heard the last carriages driving away at two in + the morning; “it was only the caprice or the curiosity of a Parisian woman + that made her want to see me.” + </p> + <p> + After that the captain went back to his ordinary habits and ways, which + had been somewhat upset by this incident. Diverted by her Parisian + occupations, Clementine appeared to have forgotten Paz. It must not be + thought an easy matter to reign a queen over fickle Paris. Does any one + suppose that fortunes alone are risked in the great game? The winters are + to fashionable women what a campaign once was to the soldiers of the + Empire. What works of art and genius are expended on a gown or a garland + in which to make a sensation! A fragile, delicate creature will wear her + stiff and brilliant harness of flowers and diamonds, silk and steel, from + nine at night till two and often three o’clock in the morning. She eats + little, to attract remark to her slender waist; she satisfied her hunger + with debilitating tea, sugared cakes, ices which heat her, or slices of + heavy pastry. The stomach is made to yield to the orders of coquetry. The + awakening comes too late. A fashionable woman’s whole life is in + contradiction to the laws of nature, and nature is pitiless. She has no + sooner risen than she makes an elaborate morning toilet, and thinks of the + one which she means to wear in the afternoon. The moment she is dressed + she has to receive and make visits, and go to the Bois either on horseback + or in a carriage. She must practise the art of smiling, and must keep her + mind on the stretch to invent new compliments which shall seem neither + common nor far-fetched. All women do not succeed in this. It is no + surprise, therefore, to find a young woman who entered fashionable society + fresh and healthy, faded and worn out at the end of three years. Six + months spent in the country will hardly heal the wounds of the winter. We + hear continually, in these days, of mysterious ailments,—gastritis, + and so forth,—ills unknown to women when they busied themselves + about their households. In the olden time women only appeared in the world + at intervals; now they are always on the scene. Clementine found she had + to struggle for her supremacy. She was cited, and that alone brought + jealousies; and the care and watchfulness exacted by this contest with her + rivals left little time even to love her husband. Paz might well be + forgotten. Nevertheless, in the month of May, as she drove home from the + Bois, just before she left Paris for Ronquerolles, her uncle’s estate in + Burgundy, she noticed Thaddeus, elegantly dressed, sauntering on one of + the side-paths of the Champs-Elysees, in the seventh heaven of delight at + seeing his beautiful countess in her elegant carriage with its spirited + horses and sparkling liveries,—in short, his beloved family the + admired of all. + </p> + <p> + “There’s the captain,” she said to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “He’s happy!” said Adam. “This is his delight. He knows there’s no + equipage more elegant than ours, and he is rejoicing to think that some + people envy it. Have you only just noticed him? I see him there nearly + every day.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what he is thinking about now,” said Clementine. + </p> + <p> + “He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is time + we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,” replied Adam. + </p> + <p> + The countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat + beside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry. + </p> + <p> + “I shall poison you,” he said; “I have been smoking.” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn’t Adam poison me?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but he is Adam,” returned the captain. + </p> + <p> + “And why can’t Thaddeus have the same privileges?” asked the countess, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + That divine smile had a power which triumphed over the heroic resolutions + of poor Paz; he looked at Clementine with all the fire of his soul in his + eyes, though, even so, its flame was tempered by the angelic gratitude of + the man whose life was based upon that virtue. The countess folded her + arms in her shawl, lay back pensively on her cushions, ruffling the + feathers of her pretty bonnet, and looked at the people who passed her. + That flash of a great and hitherto resigned soul reached her + sensibilities. What was Adam’s merit in her eyes? It was natural enough to + have courage and generosity. But Thaddeus—surely Thaddeus possessed, + or seemed to possess, some great superiority over Adam. They were + dangerous thoughts which took possession of the countess’s mind as she + again noticed the contrast of the fine presence that distinguished + Thaddeus, and the puny frame in which Adam showed the degenerating effects + of intermarriage among the Polish aristocratic families. The devil alone + knew the thoughts that were in Clementine’s head, for she sat still, with + thoughtful, dreamy eyes, and without saying a word until they reached + home. + </p> + <p> + “You will dine with us; I shall be angry if you disobey me,” she said as + the carriage turned in. “You are Thaddeus to me, as you are to Adam. I + know your obligations to him, but I also know those we are under to you. + Both generosities are natural—but you are generous every day and all + day. My father dines here to-day, also my uncle Ronquerolles and my aunt + Madame de Serizy. Dress yourself therefore,” she said, taking the hand he + offered to assist her from the carriage. + </p> + <p> + Thaddeus went to his own room to dress with a joyful heart, though shaken + by an inward dread. He went down at the last moment and behaved through + dinner as he had done on the first occasion, that is, like a soldier fit + only for his duties as a steward. But this time Clementine was not his + dupe; his glance had enlightened her. The Marquis de Ronquerolles, one of + the ablest diplomates after Talleyrand, who had served with de Marsay + during his short ministry, had been informed by his niece of the real + worth and character of Comte Paz, and knew how modestly he made himself + the steward of his friend Laginski. + </p> + <p> + “And why is this the first time I have the pleasure of seeing Comte Paz?” + asked the marquis. + </p> + <p> + “Because he is so shy and retiring,” replied Clementine with a look at Paz + telling him to change his behavior. + </p> + <p> + Alas! that we should have to avow it, at the risk of rendering the captain + less interesting, but Paz, though superior to his friend Adam, was not a + man of parts. His apparent superiority was due to his misfortunes. In his + lonely and poverty-stricken life in Warsaw he had read and taught himself + a good deal; he had compared and meditated. But the gift of original + thought which makes a great man he did not possess, and it can never be + acquired. Paz, great in heart only, approached in heart to the sublime; + but in the sphere of sentiments, being more a man of action than of + thought, he kept his thoughts to himself; and they only served therefore + to eat his heart out. What, after all, is a thought unexpressed? + </p> + <p> + After Clementine’s little speech, the Marquis de Ronquerolles and his + sister exchanged a singular glance, embracing their niece, Comte Adam, and + Paz. It was one of those rapid scenes which take place only in France and + Italy,—the two regions of the world (all courts excepted) where eyes + can say everything. To communicate to the eye the full power of the soul, + to give it the value of speech, needs either the pressure of extreme + servitude, or complete liberty. Adam, the Marquis du Rouvre, and + Clementine did not observe this luminous by-play of the old coquette and + the old diplomatist, but Paz, the faithful watchdog, understood its + meaning. It was, we must remark, an affair of two seconds; but to describe + the tempest it roused in the captain’s soul would take far too much space + in this brief history. + </p> + <p> + “What!” he said to himself, “do the aunt and uncle think I might be loved? + Then my happiness only depends on my own audacity! But Adam—” + </p> + <p> + Ideal love and desire clashed with gratitude and friendship, all equally + powerful, and, for a moment, love prevailed. The lover would have his day. + Paz became brilliant, he tried to please, he told the story of the Polish + insurrection in noble words, being questioned about it by the diplomatist. + By the end of dinner Paz saw Clementine hanging upon his lips and + regarding him as a hero, forgetting that Adam too, after sacrificing a + third of his vast fortune, had been an exile. At nine o’clock, after + coffee had been served, Madame de Serizy kissed her niece on the forehead, + pressed her hand, and went away, taking Adam with her and leaving the + Marquis de Ronquerolles and the Marquis du Rouvre, who soon followed. Paz + and Clementine were alone together. + </p> + <p> + “I will leave you now, madame,” said Thaddeus. “You will of course rejoin + them at the Opera?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she answered, “I don’t like dancing, and they give an odious ballet + to-night ‘La Revolte au Serail.’” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s silence. + </p> + <p> + “Two years ago Adam would not have gone to the Opera without me,” said + Clementine, not looking at Paz. + </p> + <p> + “He loves you madly,” replied Thaddeus. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and because he loves me madly he is all the more likely not to love + me to-morrow,” said the countess. + </p> + <p> + “How inexplicable Parisian women are!” exclaimed Thaddeus. “When they are + loved to madness they want to be loved reasonably: and when they are loved + reasonably they reproach a man for not loving them at all.” + </p> + <p> + “And they are quite right. Thaddeus,” she went on, smiling, “I know Adam + well; I am not angry with him; he is volatile and above all grand + seigneur. He will always be content to have me as his wife and he will + never oppose any of my tastes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the marriage in which there are no ‘buts’?” said Thaddeus, + gently, trying to give another direction to Clementine’s mind. + </p> + <p> + The least presuming of men might well have had the thought which came near + rendering this poor lover beside himself; it was this: “If I do not tell + her now that I love her I am a fool,” he kept saying to himself. + </p> + <p> + Neither spoke; and there came between the pair one of those deep silences + that are crowded with thoughts. The countess examined Paz covertly, and + Paz observed her in a mirror. Buried in an armchair like a man digesting + his dinner, the image of a husband or an indifferent old man, Paz crossed + his hands upon his stomach and twirled his thumbs mechanically, looking + stupidly at them. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you tell me something good of Adam?” cried Clementine suddenly. + “Tell me that he is not volatile, you who know him so well.” + </p> + <p> + The cry was fine. + </p> + <p> + “Now is the time,” thought poor Paz, “to put an insurmountable barrier + between us. Tell you good of Adam?” he said aloud. “I love him; you would + not believe me; and I am incapable of telling you harm. My position is + very difficult between you.” + </p> + <p> + Clementine lowered her head and looked down at the tips of his varnished + boots. + </p> + <p> + “You Northern men have nothing but physical courage,” she said + complainingly; “you have no constancy in your opinions.” + </p> + <p> + “How will you amuse yourself alone, madame?” said Paz, assuming a careless + air. + </p> + <p> + “Are not you going to keep me company?” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me for leaving you.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + The thought of a heroic falsehood had come into his head. + </p> + <p> + “I—I am going to the Circus in the Champs Elysees; it opens + to-night, and I can’t miss it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” said Clementine, questioning him by a look that was half-anger. + </p> + <p> + “Must I tell you why?” he said, coloring; “must I confide to you what I + hide from Adam, who thinks my only love is Poland.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! a secret in our noble captain?” + </p> + <p> + “A disgraceful one—which you will perhaps understand, and pity.” + </p> + <p> + “You, disgraced?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I, Comte Paz; I am madly in love with a girl who travels all over + France with the Bouthor family,—people who have the rival circus to + Franconi; but they play only at fairs. I have made the director at the + Cirque-Olympique engage her.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she handsome?” + </p> + <p> + “To my thinking,” said Paz, in a melancholy tone. “Malaga (that’s her + stage name) is strong, active, and supple. Why do I prefer her to all + other women in the world?—well, I can’t tell you. When I look at + her, with her black hair tied with a blue satin ribbon, floating on her + bare and olive-colored shoulders, and when she is dressed in a white tunic + with a gold edge, and a knitted silk bodice that makes her look like a + living Greek statue, and when I see her carrying those flags in her hand + to the sound of martial music, and jumping through the paper hoops which + tear as she goes through, and lighting so gracefully on the galloping + horse to such applause,—no hired clapping,—well, all that + moves me.” + </p> + <p> + “More than a handsome woman in a ballroom?” asked Clementine, with + amazement and curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Paz, in a choking voice. “Such agility, such grace under + constant danger seems to me the height of triumph for a woman. Yes, + madame, Cinti and Malibran, Grisi and Taglioni, Pasta and Ellsler, all who + reign or have reigned on the stage, can’t be compared, to my mind, with + Malaga, who can jump on or off a horse at full gallop, or stand on the + point of one foot and fall easily into the saddle, and knit stockings, + break eggs, and make an omelette with the horse at full speed, to the + admiration of the people,—the real people, peasants and soldiers. + Malaga, madame, is dexterity personified; her little wrist or her little + foot can rid her of three or four men. She is the goddess of gymnastics.” + </p> + <p> + “She must be stupid—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said Paz, “I find her as amusing as the heroine of ‘Peveril of + the Peak.’ Thoughtless as a Bohemian, she says everything that comes into + her head; she thinks no more about the future than you do of the sous you + fling to the poor. She says grand things sometimes. You couldn’t make her + believe that an old diplomatist was a handsome young man, not if you + offered her a million of francs. Such love as hers is perpetual flattery + to a man. Her health is positively insolent, and she has thirty-two + oriental pearls in lips of coral. Her muzzle—that’s what she calls + the lower part of her face—has, as Shakespeare expresses it, the + savor of a heifer’s nose. She can make a man unhappy. She likes handsome + men, strong men, Alexanders, gymnasts, clowns. Her trainer, a horrible + brute, used to beat her to make her supple, and graceful, and intrepid—” + </p> + <p> + “You are positively intoxicated with Malaga.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she is called Malaga only on the posters,” said Paz, with a piqued + air. “She lives in the rue Saint-Lazare, in a pretty apartment on the + third story, all velvet and silk, like a princess. She has two lives, her + circus life and the life of a pretty woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she love you?” + </p> + <p> + “She loves me—now you will laugh—solely because I’m a Pole. + She saw an engraving of Poles rushing with Poniatowski into the Elster,—for + all France persists in thinking that the Elster, where it is impossible to + get drowned, is an impetuous flood, in which Poniatowski and his followers + were engulfed. But in the midst of all this I am very unhappy, madame.” + </p> + <p> + A tear of rage fell from his eyes and affected the countess. + </p> + <p> + “You men have such a passion for singularity.” + </p> + <p> + “And you?” said Thaddeus. + </p> + <p> + “I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some + mountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?” + </p> + <p> + “At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of a + booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades, all in + Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her standing + there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy expression in her + face; in truth there was enough about her to sadden a girl of twenty. That + touched me.” + </p> + <p> + The countess was sitting in a delicious attitude, pensive and rather + melancholy. + </p> + <p> + “Poor, poor Thaddeus!” she exclaimed. Then, with the kindliness of a true + great lady she added, not without a malicious smile, “Well go, go to your + Circus.” + </p> + <p> + Thaddeus took her hand, kissed it, leaving a hot tear upon it, and went + out. + </p> + <p> + Having invented this passion for a circus-rider, he bethought him that he + must give it some reality. The only truth in his tale was the momentary + attention he had given to Malaga at Saint-Cloud; and he had since seen her + name on the posters of the Circus, where the clown, for a tip of five + francs, had told him that the girl was a foundling, stolen perhaps. + Thaddeus now went to the Circus and saw her again. For ten francs one of + the grooms (who take the place in circuses of the dressers at a theatre) + informed him that Malaga was named Marguerite Turquet, and lived on the + fifth story of a house in the rue des Fosses-du-Temple. + </p> + <p> + The following day Paz went to the faubourg du Temple, found the house, and + asked to see Mademoiselle Turquet, who during the summer was substituting + for the leading horsewoman at the Cirque-Olympique, and a supernumerary at + a boulevard theatre in winter. + </p> + <p> + “Malaga!” cried the portress, rushing into the attic, “there’s a fine + gentleman wanting you. He is getting information from Chapuzot, who is + playing him off to give me time to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, M’ame Chapuzot; but what will he think of me if he finds me + ironing my gown?” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! when a man’s in love he loves everything about us.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he an Englishman? they are fond of horses.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he looks to me Spanish.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a pity; they say Spaniards are always poor. Stay here with me, + M’ame Chapuzot; I don’t want him to think I’m deserted.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?” asked Madame Chapuzot, opening + the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Turquet.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said the portress, with an air of importance, “here is some one + to see you.” + </p> + <p> + A line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain’s hat and + knocked it off. + </p> + <p> + “What is it you wish, monsieur?” said Malaga, picking up the hat and + giving it to him. + </p> + <p> + “I saw you at the Circus,” said Thaddeus, “and you reminded me of a + daughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my + Heloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to be + of some service to you, if you will permit me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,” said Madame Chapuzot; “nothing + could be more straightforward, more gallant.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not gallant, my good lady,” exclaimed Paz. “I am an unfortunate + father who tries to deceive himself by a resemblance.” + </p> + <p> + “Then am I to pass for your daughter?” said Malaga, slyly, and not in the + least suspecting the perfect sincerity of his proposal. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Paz, “and I’ll come and see you sometimes. But you shall be + lodged in better rooms, comfortably furnished.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall have furniture!” cried Malaga, looking at Madame Chapuzot. + </p> + <p> + “And servants,” said Paz, “and all you want.” + </p> + <p> + Malaga looked at the stranger suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “What countryman is monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “I am a Pole.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! then I accept,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Paz departed, promising to return. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that’s a stiff one!” said Marguerite Turquet, looking at Madame + Chapuzot; “I’m half afraid he is wheedling me, to carry out some fancy of + his own—Pooh! I’ll risk it.” + </p> + <p> + A month after this eccentric interview the circus-rider was living in a + comfortable apartment furnished by Comte Adam’s own upholsterer, Paz + having judged it desirable to have his folly talked about at the hotel + Laginski. Malaga, to whom this adventure was like a leaf out of the + Arabian Nights, was served by Monsieur and Madame Chapuzot in the double + capacity of friends and servants. The Chapuzots and Marguerite were + constantly expecting some result of all this; but at the end of three + months none of them were able to make out the meaning of the Polish + count’s caprice. Paz arrived duly and passed about an hour there once a + week, during which time he sat in the salon, and never went into Malaga’s + boudoir nor into her bedroom, in spite of the clever manoeuvring of the + Chapuzots and Malaga to get him there. The count would ask questions as to + the small events of Marguerite’s life, and each time that he came he left + two gold pieces of forty francs each on the mantel-piece. + </p> + <p> + “He looks as if he didn’t care to be here,” said Madame Chapuzot. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Malaga, “the man’s as cold as an icicle.” + </p> + <p> + “But he’s a good fellow all the same,” cried Chapuzot, who was happy in a + new suit of clothes made of blue cloth, in which he looked like the + servant of some minister. + </p> + <p> + The sum which Paz deposited weekly on the mantel-piece, joined to Malaga’s + meagre salary, gave her the means of sumptuous living compared with her + former poverty. Wonderful stories went the rounds of the Circus about + Malaga’s good-luck. Her vanity increased the six thousand francs which Paz + had spent on her furniture to sixty thousand. According to the clowns and + the supers, Malaga was squandering money; and she now appeared at the + Circus wearing burnous and shawls and elegant scarfs. The Pole, it was + agreed on all sides, was the best sort of man a circus-rider had ever + encountered, not fault-finding nor jealous, and willing to let Malaga do + just what she liked. + </p> + <p> + “Some women have the luck of it,” said Malaga’s rival, “and I’m not one of + them,—though I do draw a third of the receipts.” + </p> + <p> + Malaga wore pretty things, and occasionally “showed her head” (a term in + the lexicon of such characters) in the Bois, where the fashionable young + men of the day began to remark her. In fact, before long Malaga was very + much talked about in the questionable world of equivocal women, who + presently attacked her good fortune by calumnies. They said she was a + somnambulist, and the Pole was a magnetizer who was using her to discover + the philosopher’s stone. Some even more envenomed scandals drove her to a + curiosity that was greater than Psyche’s. She reported them in tears to + Paz. + </p> + <p> + “When I want to injure a woman,” she said in conclusion, “I don’t + calumniate her; I don’t declare that some one magnetizes her to get stones + out of her, but I say plainly that she is humpbacked, and I prove it. Why + do you compromise me in this way?” + </p> + <p> + Paz maintained a cruel silence. Madame Chapuzot was not long in + discovering the name and title of Comte Paz; then she heard certain + positive facts at the hotel Laginski: for instance, that Paz was a + bachelor, and had never been known to have a daughter, alive or dead, in + Poland or in France. After that Malaga could not control a feeling of + terror. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child,” Madame Chapuzot would say, “that monster—” (a man + who contented himself with only looking, in a sly way,—not daring to + come out and say things,—and such a beautiful creature too, as + Malaga,—of course such a man was a monster, according to Madame + Chapuzot’s ideas) “—that monster is trying to get a hold upon you, + and make you do something illegal and criminal. Holy Father, if you should + get into the police-courts! it makes me tremble from head to foot; suppose + they should put you in the newspapers! I’ll tell you what I should do in + your place; I’d warn the police.” + </p> + <p> + One particular day, after many foolish notions had fermented for some time + in Malaga’s mind, Paz having laid his money as usual on the mantel-piece, + she seized the bits of gold and flung them in his face, crying out, “I + don’t want stolen money!” + </p> + <p> + The captain gave the gold to Chapuzot, went away without a word, and did + not return. + </p> + <p> + Clementine was at this time at her uncle’s place in Burgundy. + </p> + <p> + When the Circus troop discovered that Malaga had lost her Polish count, + much excitement was produced among them. Malaga’s display of honor was + considered folly by some, and shrewdness by others. The conduct of the + Pole, however, even when discussed by the cleverest of women, seemed + inexplicable. Thaddeus received in the course of the next week + thirty-seven letters from women of their kind. Happily for him, his + astonishing reserve did not excite the curiosity of the fashionable world, + and was only discussed in the demi-mondaine regions. + </p> + <p> + Two weeks later the handsome circus-rider, crippled by debt, wrote the + following letter to Comte Paz, which, having fallen into the hands of + Comte Adam, was read by several of the dandies of the day, who pronounced + it a masterpiece:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “You, whom I still dare to call my friend, will you not pity me + after all that has passed,—which you have so ill understood? My + heart disavows whatever may have wounded your feelings. If I was + fortunate enough to charm you and keep you beside me in the past, + return to me; otherwise, I shall fall into despair. Poverty has + overtaken me, and you do not know what <i>horrid things</i> it brings + with it. Yesterday I lived on a herring at two sous, and one sou + of bread. Is that a breakfast for the woman you loved? The + Chapuzots have left me, though they seemed so devoted. Your + desertion has caused me to see to the bottom of all human + attachments. The dog we feed does not leave us, but the Chapuzots + have gone. A sheriff has seized everything on behalf of the + landlord, who has no heart, and the jeweller, who refused to wait + even ten days,—for when we lose the confidence of such as you, + credit goes too. What a position for women who have nothing to + reproach themselves with but the happiness they have given! My + friend, I have taken all I have of any value to <i>my uncle’s</i>; I have + nothing but the memory of you left, and here is the winter coming + on. I shall be fireless when it turns cold; for the boulevards are + to play only melodramas, in which I have nothing but little bits + of parts which don’t <i>pose</i> a woman. How could you misunderstand the + nobleness of my feelings for you?—for there are two ways of + expressing gratitude. You who seemed so happy in seeing me + well-off, how can you leave me in poverty? Oh, my sole friend on + earth, before I go back to the country fairs with Bouthor’s circus, + where I can at least make a living, forgive me if I wish to know + whether I have lost you forever. If I were to let myself think of + you when I jump through the hoops, I should be sure to break my legs + by losing <i>a time</i>. Whatever may be the result, I am yours for life. +</pre> + <p> + “Marguerite Turquet.” + </p> + <p> + “That letter,” thought Thaddeus, shouting with laughter, “is worth the ten + thousand francs I have spent upon her.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + Clementine came home the next day, and the day after that Paz beheld her + again, more beautiful and graceful than ever. After dinner, during which + the countess treated Paz with an air of perfect indifference, a little + scene took place in the salon between the count and his wife when Thaddeus + had left them. On pretence of asking Adam’s advice, Thaddeus had left + Malaga’s letter with him, as if by mistake. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Thaddeus!” said Adam, as Paz disappeared, “what a misfortune for a + man of his distinction to be the plaything of the lowest kind of + circus-rider. He will lose everything, and get lower and lower, and won’t + be recognizable before long. Here, read that,” added the count, giving + Malaga’s letter to his wife. + </p> + <p> + Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from her + with a look of disgust. + </p> + <p> + “Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,” continued Adam, “he must have + found out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “But he goes back to her,” said Clementine, “and he will forgive her! It + is for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they need it,” said Adam. + </p> + <p> + “Thaddeus used to show some decency—in living apart from us,” she + remarked. “He had better go altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear angel, that’s going too far,” said the count, who did not + want the death of the sinner. + </p> + <p> + Paz, who knew Adam thoroughly, had enjoined him to secrecy, pretending to + excuse his dissipations, and had asked his friend to lend him a few + thousand francs for Malaga. + </p> + <p> + “He is a very firm fellow,” said Adam. + </p> + <p> + “How so?” asked Clementine. + </p> + <p> + “Why, for having spent no more than ten thousand francs on her, and + letting her send him that letter before he would ask me for enough to pay + her debts. For a Pole, I call that firm.” + </p> + <p> + “He will ruin you,” said Clementine, in the sharp tone of a Parisian + woman, when she shows her feline distrusts. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know him,” said Adam; “he will sacrifice Malaga, if I ask him.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall see,” remarked the countess. + </p> + <p> + “If it is best for his own happiness, I sha’n’t hesitate to ask him to + leave her. Constantin says that since Paz has been with her he, sober as + he is, has sometimes come home quite excited. If he takes to intoxication + I shall be just as grieved as if he were my own son.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t tell me anything more about it,” cried the countess, with a gesture + of disgust. + </p> + <p> + Two days later the captain perceived in the manner, the tones of voice, + but, above all, in the eyes of the countess, the terrible results of + Adam’s confidences. Contempt had opened a gulf between the beloved woman + and himself. He was suddenly plunged into the deepest distress of mind, + for the thought gnawed him, “I have myself made her despise me!” His own + folly stared him in the face. Life then became a burden to him, the very + sun turned gray. And yet, amid all these bitter thoughts, he found again + some moments of pure joy. There were times when he could give himself up + wholly to his admiration for his mistress, who paid not the slightest + attention to him. Hanging about in corners at her parties and receptions, + silent, all heart and eyes, he never lost one of her attitudes, nor a tone + of her voice when she sang. He lived in her life; he groomed the horse + which <i>she</i> rode, he studied the ways and means of that splendid + establishment, to the interests of which he was now more devoted than + ever. These silent pleasures were buried in his heart like those of a + mother, whose heart a child never knows; for is it knowing anything unless + we know it all? His love was more perfect than the love of Petrarch for + Laura, which found its ultimate reward in the treasures of fame, the + triumph of the poem which she had inspired. Surely the emotion that the + Chevalier d’Assas felt in dying must have been to him a lifetime of joy. + Such emotions as these Paz enjoyed daily,—without dying, but also + without the guerdon of immortality. + </p> + <p> + But what is Love, that, in spite of all these ineffable delights, Paz + should still have been unhappy? The Catholic religion has so magnified + Love that she has wedded it indissolubly to respect and nobility of + spirit. Love is therefore attended by those sentiments and qualities of + which mankind is proud; it is rare to find true Love existing where + contempt is felt. Thaddeus was suffering from the wounds his own hand had + given him. The trial of his former life, when he lived beside his + mistress, unknown, unappreciated, but generously working for her, was + better than this. Yes, he wanted the reward of his virtue, her respect, + and he had lost it. He grew thin and yellow, and so ill with constant low + fever that during the month of January he was obliged to keep his bed, + though he refused to see a doctor. Comte Adam became very uneasy about + him; but the countess had the cruelty to remark: “Let him alone; don’t you + see it is only some Olympian trouble?” This remark, being repeated to + Thaddeus, gave him the courage of despair; he left his bed, went out, + tried a few amusements, and recovered his health. + </p> + <p> + About the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the + Jockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let + the sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga. + </p> + <p> + “There’s nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl; but if + the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be lowered in + her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! this, too!” exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Thaddeus, if you will do me this service we shall be forever quits,—though, + indeed, I am your debtor now.” + </p> + <p> + “Adam, you will have children; don’t gamble any more,” said Paz. + </p> + <p> + “So Malaga has cost us another twenty thousand francs,” cried the + countess, some time later, when she discovered this new generosity to Paz. + “First, ten thousand, now twenty more,—thirty thousand! the income + of which is fifteen hundred! the cost of my box at the Opera, and the + whole fortune of many a bourgeois. Oh, you Poles!” she said, gathering + some flowers in her greenhouse; “you are really incomprehensible. Why are + you not furious with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Paz is—” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Paz, poor Paz, indeed!” she cried, interrupting him, “what good does + he do us? I shall take the management of the household myself. You can + give him the allowance he refused, and let him settle it as he likes with + his Circus.” + </p> + <p> + “He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty + thousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has managed + to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would have + pocketed.” + </p> + <p> + Clementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings + to Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir + where, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with + her husband. This time she received him alone, without perceiving the + slightest danger in so doing. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Paz,” she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great + to their inferiors, “if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do a + thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not hesitate + to exact.” + </p> + <p> + “About Malaga?” said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes,” she said; “if you wish to end your days in this house and + continue good friends with us, you must give her up. How an old soldier—” + </p> + <p> + “I am only thirty-five, and haven’t a white hair.” + </p> + <p> + “You look old,” she said, “and that’s the same thing. How so careful a + manager, so distinguished a—” + </p> + <p> + The horrible part of all this was her evident intention to rouse a sense + of honor in his soul which she thought extinct. + </p> + <p> + “—so distinguished a man as you are, Thaddeus,” she resumed after a + momentary pause which a gesture of his hand had led her to make, “can + allow yourself to be caught like a boy! Your proceedings have made that + woman celebrated. My uncle wanted to see her, and he did see her. My uncle + is not the only one; Malaga receives a great many gentlemen. I did think + you such a noble soul. For shame! Will she be such a loss that you can’t + replace her?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame, if I knew any sacrifice I could make to recover your esteem I + would make it; but to give up Malaga is not one—” + </p> + <p> + “In your position, that is what I should say myself, if I were a man,” + replied Clementine. “Well, if I accept it as a great sacrifice there can + be no ill-will between us.” + </p> + <p> + Paz left the room, fearing he might commit some great folly, and feeling + that wild ideas were getting the better of him. He went to walk in the + open air, lightly dressed in spite of the cold, but without being able to + cool the fire in his cheeks or on his brow. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you had a noble soul,”—the words still rang in his ears. + </p> + <p> + “A year ago,” he said to himself, “she thought me a hero who could fight + the Russians single-handed!” + </p> + <p> + He thought of leaving the hotel Laginski, and taking service with the + spahis and getting killed in Africa, but the same great fear checked him. + “Without me,” he thought, “what would become of them? they would soon be + ruined. Poor countess! what a horrible life it would be for her if she + were reduced to even thirty thousand francs a year. No, since all is lost + for me in this world,—courage! I will keep on as I am.” + </p> + <p> + Every one knows that since 1830 the carnival in Paris has undergone a + transformation which has made it European, and far more burlesque and + otherwise lively than the late Carnival of Venice. Is it that the + diminishing fortunes of the present time have led Parisians to invent a + way of amusing themselves collectively, as for instance at their clubs, + where they hold salons without hostesses and without manners, but very + cheaply? However this may be, the month of March was prodigal of balls, at + which dancing, joking, coarse fun, excitement, grotesque figures, and the + sharp satire of Parisian wit, produced extravagant effects. These carnival + follies had their special Pandemonium in the rue Saint-Honore and their + Napoleon in Musard, a small man born expressly to lead an orchestra as + noisy as the disorderly audience, and to set the time for the galop, that + witches’ dance, which was one of Auber’s triumphs, for it did not really + take form or poesy till the grand galop in “Gustave” was given to the + world. That tremendous finale might serve as the symbol of an epoch in + which for the last fifty years all things have hurried by with the + rapidity of a dream. + </p> + <p> + Now, it happened that the grave Thaddeus, with one divine and immaculate + image in his heart, proposed to Malaga, the queen of the carnival dances, + to spend an evening at the Musard ball; because he knew the countess, + disguised to the teeth, intended to come there with two friends, all three + accompanied by their husbands, and look on at the curious spectacle of one + of these crowded balls. + </p> + <p> + On Shrove Tuesday, of the year 1838, at four o’clock in the morning, the + countess, wrapped in a black domino and sitting on the lower step of the + platform in the Babylonian hall, where Valentino has since then given his + concerts, beheld Thaddeus, as Robert Macaire, threading the galop with + Malaga in the dress of a savage, her head garnished with plumes like the + horse of a hearse, and bounding through the crowd like a will-o-the-wisp. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Clementine to her husband, “you Poles have no honor at all! I + did believe in Thaddeus. He gave me his word that he would leave that + woman; he did not know that I should be here, seeing all unseen.” + </p> + <p> + A few days later she requested Paz to dine with them. After dinner Adam + left them alone together, and Clementine reproved Paz and let him know + very plainly that she did not wish him to live in her house any longer. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame,” said Paz, humbly, “you are right; I am a wretch; I did give + you my word. But you see how it is; I put off leaving Malaga till after + the carnival. Besides, that woman exerts an influence over me which—” + </p> + <p> + “An influence!—a woman who ought to be turned out of Musard’s by the + police for such dancing!” + </p> + <p> + “I agree to all that; I accept the condemnation and I’ll leave your house. + But you know Adam. If I give up the management of your property you must + show energy yourself. I may have been to blame about Malaga, but I have + taken the whole charge of your affairs, managed your servants, and looked + after the very least details. I cannot leave you until I see you prepared + to continue my management. You have now been married three years, and you + are safe from the temptations to extravagance which come with the + honeymoon. I see that Parisian women, and even titled ones, do manage both + their fortunes and their households. Well, as soon as I am certain not so + much of your capacity as of your perseverance I shall leave Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “It is Thaddeus of Warsaw, and not that Circus Thaddeus who speaks now,” + said Clementine. “Go, and come back cured.” + </p> + <p> + “Cured! never,” said Paz, his eyes lowered and fixed on Clementine’s + pretty feet. “You do not know, countess, what charm, what unexpected + piquancy of mind she has.” Then, feeling his courage fail him, he added + hastily, “There is not a woman in society, with her mincing airs, that is + worth the honest nature of that young animal.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, I wish nothing of the animal about me,” said the countess, + with a glance like that of an angry viper. + </p> + <p> + After that evening Comte Paz showed Clementine the exact state of her + affairs; he made himself her tutor, taught her the methods and + difficulties of the management of property, the proper prices to pay for + things, and how to avoid being cheated by her servants. He told her she + could rely on Constantin and make him her major-domo. Thaddeus had trained + the man thoroughly. By the end of May he thought the countess fully + competent to carry on her affairs alone; for Clementine was one of those + far-sighted women, full of instinct, who have an innate genius as mistress + of a household. + </p> + <p> + This position of affairs, which Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did not + end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to be as + sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover forgot to + reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and Thaddeus, + instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His devotion was + unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her perspicacity + might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment imposed by a noble + soul to repress an involuntary evil thought; but women see all, or see + nothing, according to the condition of their souls—love is their + sole illuminator. + </p> + <p> + During forty-five days Paz watched and tended Adam without appearing to + think of Malaga, for the very good reason that he never did think of her. + Clementine, feeling that Adam was at the point of death though he did not + die, sent for all the leading doctors of Paris in consultation. + </p> + <p> + “If he comes safely out of this,” said the most distinguished of them all, + “it will only be by an effort of nature. It is for those who nurse him to + watch for the moment when they must second nature. The count’s life is in + the hands of his nurses.” + </p> + <p> + Thaddeus went to find Clementine and tell her this result of the + consultation. He found her sitting in the Chinese pavilion, as much for a + little rest as to leave the field to the doctors and not embarrass them. + As he walked along the winding gravelled path which led to the pavilion, + Thaddeus seemed to himself in the depths of an abyss described by Dante. + The unfortunate man had never dreamed that the possibility might arise of + becoming Clementine’s husband, and now he had drowned himself in a ditch + of mud. His face was convulsed, when he reached the kiosk, with an agony + of grief; his head, like Medusa’s, conveyed despair. + </p> + <p> + “Is he dead?” said Clementine. + </p> + <p> + “They have given him up; that is, they leave him to nature. Do not go in; + they are still there, and Bianchon is changing the dressings.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Adam! I ask myself if I have not sometimes pained him,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You have made him very happy,” said Thaddeus; “you ought to be easy on + that score, for you have shown every indulgence for him.” + </p> + <p> + “My loss would be irreparable.” + </p> + <p> + “But, dear, you judged him justly.” + </p> + <p> + “I was never blind to his faults,” she said, “but I loved him as a wife + should love her husband.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you ought, in case you lose him,” said Thaddeus, in a voice which + Clementine had never heard him use, “to grieve for him less than if you + lost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,—as some + men are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a friend + like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had made him my + child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall be without an + interest on earth; but life is still beautiful to a widow of twenty-four.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but you know that I love no one,” she said, with the impatience of + grief. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t yet know what it is to love,” said Thaddeus. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as husbands are, I have sense enough to prefer a child like my poor + Adam to a superior man. It is now over a month that we have been saying to + each other, ‘Will he live?’ and these alternations have prepared me, as + they have you, for this loss. I can be frank with you. Well, I would give + my life to save Adam. What is a woman’s independence in Paris? the freedom + to let herself be taken in by ruined or dissipated men who pretend to love + her. I pray to God to leave me this husband who is so kind, so obliging, + so little fault-finding, and who is beginning to stand in awe of me.” + </p> + <p> + “You are honest, and I love you the better for it,” said Thaddeus, taking + her hand which she yielded to him, and kissing it. “In solemn moments like + these there is unspeakable satisfaction in finding a woman without + hypocrisy. It is possible to converse with you. Let us look to the future. + Suppose that God does not grant your prayer,—and no one cries to him + more than I do, ‘Leave me my friend!’ Yes, these fifty nights have not + weakened me; if thirty more days and nights are needed I can give them + while you sleep,—yes, I will tear him from death if, as the doctors + say, nursing can save him. But suppose that in spite of you and me, the + count dies,—well, then, if you were loved, oh, adored, by a man of a + heart and soul that are worthy of you—” + </p> + <p> + “I may have wished for such love, foolishly, but I have never met with + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you are mistaken—” + </p> + <p> + Clementine looked fixedly at Thaddeus, imagining that there was less of + love than of cupidity in his thoughts; her eyes measured him from head to + foot and poured contempt upon him; then she crushed him with the words, + “Poor Malaga!” uttered in tones which a great lady alone can find to give + expression to her disdain. She rose, leaving Thaddeus half unconscious + behind her, slowly re-entered her boudoir, and went back to Adam’s + chamber. + </p> + <p> + An hour later Paz returned to the sick-room, and began anew, with death in + his heart, his care of the count. From that moment he said nothing. He was + forced to struggle with the patient, whom he managed in a way that excited + the admiration of the doctors. At all hours his watchful eyes were like + lamps always lighted. He showed no resentment to Clementine, and listened + to her thanks without accepting them; he seemed both dumb and deaf. To + himself he was saying, “She shall owe his life to me,” and he wrote the + thought as it were in letters of fire on the walls of Adam’s room. On the + fifteenth day Clementine was forced to give up the nursing, lest she + should utterly break down. Paz was unwearied. At last, towards the end of + August, Bianchon, the family physician, told Clementine that Adam was out + of danger. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, madame, you are under no obligation to me,” he said; “without his + friend, Comte Paz, we could not have saved him.” + </p> + <p> + The day after the meeting of Paz and Clementine in the kiosk, the Marquis + de Ronquerolles came to see his nephew. He was on the eve of starting for + Russia on a secret diplomatic mission. Paz took occasion to say a few + words to him. The first day that Adam was able to drive out with his wife + and Thaddeus, a gentleman entered the courtyard as the carriage was about + to leave it, and asked for Comte Paz. Thaddeus, who was sitting on the + front seat of the caleche, turned to take a letter which bore the stamp of + the ministry of Foreign affairs. Having read it, he put it into his pocket + in a manner which prevented Clementine or Adam from speaking of it. + Nevertheless, by the time they reached the porte Maillot, Adam, full of + curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man whose caprices are to be + gratified, and said to Thaddeus: “There’s no indiscretion between brothers + who love each other,—tell me what there is in that despatch; I’m in + a fever of curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + Clementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her + husband: “He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I + shall never ask him anything again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as for that,” replied Paz, “I can’t keep it out of the newspapers, so + I may as well tell you at once. The Emperor Nicholas has had the grace to + appoint me captain in a regiment which is to take part in the expedition + to Khiva.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not going?” cried Adam. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I shall go, my dear fellow. Captain I came, and captain I return. We + shall dine together to-morrow for the last time. If I don’t start at once + for St. Petersburg I shall have to make the journey by land, and I am not + rich, and I must leave Malaga a little independence. I ought to think of + the only woman who has been able to understand me; she thinks me grand, + superior. I dare say she is faithless, but she would jump—” + </p> + <p> + “Through the hoop, for your sake and come down safely on the back of her + horse,” said Clementine sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you don’t know Malaga,” said the captain, bitterly, with a sarcastic + look in his eyes which made Clementine thoughtful and uneasy. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by to the young trees of this beautiful Bois, which you Parisians + love, and the exiles who find a home here love too,” he said, presently. + “My eyes will never again see the evergreens of the avenue de + Mademoiselle, nor the acacias nor the cedars of the rond-points. On the + borders of Asia, fighting for the Emperor, promoted to the command, + perhaps, by force of courage and by risking my life, it may happen that I + shall regret these Champs-Elysees where I have driven beside you, and + where you pass. Yes, I shall grieve for Malaga’s hardness—the Malaga + of whom I am now speaking.” + </p> + <p> + This was said in a manner that made Clementine tremble. + </p> + <p> + “Then you do love Malaga very much?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I have sacrificed for her the honor that no man should ever sacrifice.” + </p> + <p> + “What honor?” + </p> + <p> + “That which we desire to keep at any cost in the eyes of our idol.” + </p> + <p> + After that reply Thaddeus said no more; he was silent until, as they + passed a wooden building on the Champs Elysees, he said, pointing to it, + “That is the Circus.” + </p> + <p> + He went to the Russian Embassy before dinner, and thence to the Foreign + office, and the next morning he had started for Havre before the count and + countess were up. + </p> + <p> + “I have lost a friend,” said Adam, with tears in his eyes, when he heard + that Paz had gone,—“a friend in the true meaning of the word. I + don’t know what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my + house. We are not friends to quarrel about a woman,” he said, looking + intently at Clementine. “You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. + Well, he has never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” said Clementine. + </p> + <p> + “I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and the + poor girl can’t explain even to herself the absolute reserve which Thad—” + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” said the countess, retreating into her bedroom. “Can it be that + I am the victim of some noble mystification?” she asked herself. The + thought had hardly crossed her mind when Constantin brought her the + following letter written by Thaddeus during the night:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Countess,—To seek death in the Caucasus and carry with me your + contempt is more than I can bear. A man should die untainted. When + I saw you for the first time I loved you as we love a woman whom + we shall love forever, even though she be unfaithful to us. I + loved you thus,—I, the friend of the man you had chosen and were + about to marry; I, poor; I, the steward,—a voluntary service, but + still the steward of your household. + + “In this immense misfortune I found a happy life. To be to you an + indispensable machine, to know myself useful to your comfort, your + luxury, has been the source of deep enjoyments. If these + enjoyments were great when I thought only of Adam, think what they + were to my soul when the woman I loved was the mainspring of all I + did. I have known the pleasures of maternity in my love. I + accepted life thus. Like the paupers who live along the great + highways, I built myself a hut on the borders of your beautiful + domain, though I never sought to approach you. Poor and lonely, + struck blind by Adam’s good fortune, I was, nevertheless, the + giver. Yes, you were surrounded by a love as pure as a + guardian-angel’s; it waked while you slept; it caressed you with a + look as you passed; it was happy in its own existence,—you were + the sun of my native land to me, poor exile, who now writes to you + with tears in his eyes as he thinks of the happiness of those first + days. + + “When I was eighteen years old, having no one to love, I took for + my ideal mistress a charming woman in Warsaw, to whom I confided + all my thoughts, my wishes; I made her the queen of my nights and + days. She knew nothing of all this; why should she? I loved my + love. + + “You can fancy from this incident of my youth how happy I was + merely to live in the sphere of your existence, to groom your + horse, to find the new-coined gold for your purse, to prepare the + splendor of your dinners and your balls, to see you eclipsing the + elegance of those whose fortunes were greater than yours, and all + by my own good management. Ah! with what ardor I have ransacked + Paris when Adam would say to me, ‘<i>She</i> wants this or that.’ It was + a joy such as I can never express to you. You wished for a trifle + at one time which kept me seven hours in a cab scouring the city; + and what delight it was to weary myself for you. Ah! when I saw + you, unseen by you, smiling among your flowers, I could forget + that no one loved me. On certain days, when my happiness turned my + head, I went at night and kissed the spot where, to me, your feet + had left their luminous traces. The air you had breathed was + balmy; in it I breathed in more of life; I inhaled, as they say + persons do in the tropics, a vapor laden with creative principles. + + “I <i>must</i> tell you these things to explain the strange presumption + of my involuntary thoughts,—I would have died rather than avow it + until now. + + “You will remember those few days of curiosity when you wished to + know the man who performed the household miracles you had + sometimes noticed. I thought,—forgive me, madame,—I believed you + might love me. Your good-will, your glances interpreted by me, a + lover, seemed to me so dangerous—for me—that I invented that + story of Malaga, knowing it was the sort of liaison which women + cannot forgive. I did it in a moment when I felt that my love + would be communicated, fatally, to you. Despise me, crush me with + the contempt you have so often cast upon me when I did not deserve + it; and yet I am certain that, if, on that evening when your aunt + took Adam away from you, I had said what I have now written to + you, I should, like the tamed tiger that sets his teeth once more + in living flesh, and scents the blood, and— + + “Midnight.” + + “I could not go on; the memory of that hour is still too living. + Yes, I was maddened. Was there hope for me in your eyes? then + victory with its scarlet banners would have flamed in mine and + fascinated yours. My crime has been to think all this; perhaps + wrongly. You alone can judge of that dreadful scene when I drove + back love, desire, all the most invincible forces of our manhood, + with the cold hand of gratitude,—gratitude which must be eternal. + + “Your terrible contempt has been my punishment. You have shown me + there is no return from loathing or disdain. I love you madly. I + should have gone had Adam died; all the more must I go because he + lives. A man does not tear his friend from the arms of death to + betray him. Besides, my going is my punishment for the thought + that came to me that I would let him die, when the doctors said + that his life depended on his nursing. + + “Adieu, madame; in leaving Paris I lose all, but you lose nothing + now in my being no longer near you. + + “Your devoted + + “Thaddeus Paz.” + </pre> + <p> + “If my poor Adam says he has lost a friend, what have I lost?” thought + Clementine, sinking into a chair with her eyes fixed on the carpet. + </p> + <p> + The following letter Constantin had orders to give privately to the count:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “My dear Adam,—Malaga has told me all. In the name of all your + future happiness, never let a word escape you to Clementine about + your visits to that girl; let her think that Malaga has cost me a + hundred thousand francs. I know Clementine’s character; she will + never forgive you either your losses at cards or your visits to + Malaga. + + “I am not going to Khiva, but to the Caucasus. I have the spleen; + and at the pace at which I mean to go I shall be either Prince + Paz in three years, or dead. Good-by; though I have taken + sixty-thousand francs from Nucingen, our accounts are even. +</pre> + <p> + “Thaddeus.” + </p> + <p> + “Idiot that I was,” thought Adam; “I came near to cutting my throat just + now, talking about Malaga.” + </p> + <p> + It is now three years since Paz went away. The newspapers have as yet said + nothing about any Prince Paz. The Comtesse Laginska is immensely + interested in the expeditions of the Emperor Nicholas; she is Russian to + the core, and reads with a sort of avidity all the news that comes from + that distant land. Once or twice every winter she says to the Russian + ambassador, with an air of indifference, “Do you know what has become of + our poor Comte Paz?” + </p> + <p> + Alas! most Parisian women, those beings who think themselves so clever and + clear-sighted, pass and repass beside a Paz and never recognize him. Yes, + many a Paz is unknown and misconceived, but—horrible to think of!—some + are misconceived even though they are loved. The simplest women in society + exact a certain amount of conventional sham from the greatest men. A noble + love signifies nothing to them if rough and unpolished; it needs the + cutting and setting of a jeweller to give it value in their eyes. + </p> + <p> + In January, 1842, the Comtesse Laginska, with her charm of gentle + melancholy, inspired a violent passion in the Comte de La Palferine, one + of the most daring and presumptuous lions of the day. La Palferine was + well aware that the conquest of a woman so guarded by reserve as the + Comtesse Laginska was difficult, but he thought he could inveigle this + charming creature into committing herself if he took her unawares, by the + assistance of a certain friend of her own, a woman already jealous of her. + </p> + <p> + Quite incapable, in spite of her intelligence, of suspecting such + treachery, the Comtesse Laginska committed the imprudence of going with + her so-called friend to a masked ball at the Opera. About three in the + morning, led away by the excitement of the scene, Clementine, on whom La + Palferine had expended his seductions, consented to accept a supper, and + was about to enter the carriage of her faithless friend. At this critical + moment her arm was grasped by a powerful hand, and she was taken, in spite + of her struggles, to her own carriage, the door of which stood open, + though she did not know it was there. + </p> + <p> + “He has never left Paris!” she exclaimed to herself as she recognized + Thaddeus, who disappeared when the carriage drove away. + </p> + <p> + Did any woman ever have a like romance in her life? Clementine is + constantly hoping she may again see Paz. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + ADDENDUM + </h2> + <h3> + The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Bianchon, Horace + Father Goriot + The Atheist’s Mass + Cesar Birotteau + The Commission in Lunacy + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Secrets of a Princess + The Government Clerks + Pierrette + A Study of Woman + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Honorine + The Seamy Side of History + The Magic Skin + A Second Home + A Prince of Bohemia + Letters of Two Brides + The Muse of the Department + The Middle Classes + Cousin Betty + The Country Parson + In addition, M. Bianchon narrated the following: + Another Study of Woman + La Grande Breteche + + Laginski, Comte Adam Mitgislas + Another Study of Woman + Cousin Betty + + La Palferine, Comte de + A Prince of Bohemia + A Man of Business + Cousin Betty + Beatrix + + Lelewel + The Seamy Side of History + + Nathan, Madame Raoul + The Muse of the Department + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Government Clerks + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Ursule Mirouet + Eugenie Grandet + A Prince of Bohemia + A Daughter of Eve + The Unconscious Humorists + + Paz, Thaddee + Cousin Betty + + Ronquerolles, Marquis de + The Peasantry + Ursule Mirouet + A Woman of Thirty + Another Study of Woman + The Thirteen + The Member for Arcis + + Rouvre, Marquis du + A Start in Life + Ursule Mirouet + + Rouvre, Chevalier du + Ursule Mirouet + + Schinner, Hippolyte + The Purse + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Pierre Grassou + A Start in Life + Albert Savarus + The Government Clerks + Modeste Mignon + The Unconscious Humorists + + Serizy, Comtesse de + A Start in Life + The Thirteen + Ursule Mirouet + A Woman of Thirty + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Another Study of Woman + + Serizy, Vicomte de + A Start in Life + Modeste Mignon + + Souchet, Francois + The Purse + A Daughter of Eve + + Steinbock, Count Wenceslas + Cousin Betty + + Turquet, Marguerite + The Muse of the Department + A Man of Business + Cousin Betty +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1369 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |