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diff --git a/old/jcpar11.txt b/old/jcpar11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6b8be25 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/jcpar11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7527 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Paris, by Jacques Casanova de Seingalt +#6 in our series by Jacques Casanova de Seingalt + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before distributing this or any other +Project Gutenberg file. + +We encourage you to keep this file, exactly as it is, on your +own disk, thereby keeping an electronic path open for future +readers. Please do not remove this. + +This header should be the first thing seen when anyone starts to +view the etext. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798 +TO PARIS AND PRISON, Volume 2a--PARIS + + +THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR +MACHEN TO WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED +BY ARTHUR SYMONS. + + + + +PARIS + +CHAPTER I + +Leave Bologna a Happy Man--The Captain Parts from Us in Reggio, where +I Spend a Delightful Night with Henriette--Our Arrival in Parma-- +Henriette Resumes the Costume of a Woman; Our Mutual Felicity--I Meet +Some Relatives of Mine, but Do not Discover Myself + + +The reader can easily guess that there was a change as sudden as a +transformation in a pantomime, and that the short but magic sentence, +"Come to Parma," proved a very fortunate catastrophe, thanks to which +I rapidly changed, passing from the tragic to the gentle mood, from +the serious to the tender tone. Sooth to say, I fell at her feet, +and lovingly pressing her knees I kissed them repeatedly with +raptures of gratitude. No more 'furore', no more bitter words; they +do not suit the sweetest of all human feelings! Loving, docile, +grateful, I swear never to beg for any favour, not even to kiss her +hand, until I have shewn myself worthy of her precious love! The +heavenly creature, delighted to see me pass so rapidly from despair +to the most lively tenderness, tells me, with a voice the tone of +which breathes of love, to get up from my knees. + +"I am sure that you love me," says she, "and be quite certain that I +shall leave nothing undone to secure the constancy of your feelings." +Even if she had said that she loved me as much as I adored her, she +would not have been more eloquent, for her words expressed all that +can be felt. My lips were pressed to her beautiful hands as the +captain entered the room. He complimented us with perfect good +faith, and I told him, my face beaming with happiness, that I was +going to order the carriage. I left them together, and in a short +time we were on our road, cheerful, pleased, and merry. + +Before reaching Reggio the honest captain told me that in his opinion +it would be better for him to proceed to Parma alone, as, if we +arrived in that city all together, it might cause some remarks, and +people would talk about us much less if we were without him. We both +thought him quite right, and we immediately made up our minds to pass +the night in Reggio, while the captain would take a post-chaise and +go alone to Parma. According to that arrangement his trunk was +transferred to the vehicle which he hired in Reggio, he bade us +farewell and went away, after having promised to dine with us on the +following day in Parma. + +The decision taken by the worthy Hungarian was, doubtless, as +agreeable to my lovely friend as to me, for our delicacy would have +condemned us to a great reserve in his presence. And truly, under +the new circumstances, how were we to arrange for our lodgings in +Reggio? Henriette could not, of course, share the bed of the captain +any more, and she could not have slept with me as long as he was with +us, without being guilty of great immodesty. We should all three +have laughed at that compulsory reserve which we would have felt to +be ridiculous, but we should, for all that, have submitted to it. +Love is the little impudent god, the enemy of bashfulness, although +he may very often enjoy darkness and mystery, but if he gives way to +it he feels disgraced; he loses three-fourths of his dignity and the +greatest portion of his charms. + +Evidently there could be no happiness for Henriette or for me unless +we parted with the person and even with the remembrance of the +excellent captain. + +We supped alone. I was intoxicated with a felicity which seemed too +immense, and yet I felt melancholy, but Henriette, who looked sad +likewise, had no reproach to address to me. Our sadness was in +reality nothing but shyness; we loved each other, but we had had no +time to become acquainted. We exchanged only a few words, there was +nothing witty, nothing interesting in our conversation, which struck +us both as insipid, and we found more pleasure in the thoughts which +filled our minds. We knew that we were going to pass the night +together, but we could not have spoken of it openly. What a night! +what a delightful creature was that Henriette whom I have loved so +deeply, who has made me so supremely happy! + +It was only three or four days later that I ventured on asking her +what she would have done, without a groat in her possession, having +not one acquaintance in Parma, if I had been afraid to declare my +love, and if I had gone to Naples. She answered that she would +doubtless have found herself in very great difficulties, but that she +had all along felt certain of my love, and that she had foreseen what +had happened. She added that, being impatient to know what I thought +of her, she had asked me to translate to the captain what she had +expressed respecting her resolution, knowing that he could neither +oppose that resolution nor continue to live with her, and that, as +she had taken care not to include me in the prayer which she had +addressed to him through me, she had thought it impossible that I +should fail to ask whether I could be of some service to her, waiting +to take a decision until she could have ascertained the nature of my +feelings towards her. She concluded by telling me that if she had +fallen it was the fault of her husband and of her father-in-law, both +of whom she characterized as monsters rather than men. + +When we reached Parma, I gave the police the name of Farusi, the same +that I had assumed in Cesena; it was the family name of my mother; +while Henriette wrote down, "Anne D'Arci, from France." While we +were answering the questions of the officer, a young Frenchman, smart +and intelligent-looking, offered me his services, and advised me not +to put up at the posting-inn, but to take lodgings at D'Andremorit's. +hotel, where I should find good apartments, French cooking, and the +best French wines. + +Seeing that Henriette was pleased with the proposal, I told the young +man to take us there, and we were soon very comfortably lodged. I +engaged the Frenchman by the day, and carefully settled all my +arrangements with D'Andremont. After that I attended to the housing +of my carriage. + +Coming in again for a few minutes, I told Henriette that I would +return in time for dinner, and, ordering the servant to remain in the +ante-room, I went out alone. + +Parma was then groaning under a new government. I had every reason +to suppose that there were spies everywhere and under every form. I +therefore did not want to have at my heels a valet who might have +injured rather than served me. Though I was in my father's native +city, I had no acquaintances there, but I knew that I should soon +find my way. + +When I found myself in the streets, I scarcely could believe that I +was in Italy, for everything had a tramontane appearance. I heard +nothing but French and Spanish, and those who did not speak one of +those languages seemed to be whispering to one another. I was going +about at random, looking for a hosier, yet unwilling to enquire where +I could find one; at last I saw what I wanted. + +I entered the shop, and addressing myself to a stout, good-looking +woman seated behind the counter, I said, + +"Madam, I wish to make some purchases." + +"Sir, shall I send for someone speaking French?" + +"You need not do so, I am an Italian." + +"God be praised! Italians are scarce in these days." + +"Why scarce?" + +"Do you not know that Don Philip has arrived, and that his wife, +Madame de France, is on the road?" + +"I congratulate you, for it must make trade very good. I suppose +that money is plentiful, and that there is abundance of all +commodities." + +"That is true, but everything is high in price, and we cannot get +reconciled to these new fashions. They are a bad mixture of French +freedom and Spanish haughtiness which addles our brains. But, sir, +what sort of linen do you require?" + +"In the first place, I must tell you that I never try to drive a hard +bargain, therefore be careful. If you charge me too much, I shall +not come again. I want some fine linen for twenty-four chemises, +some dimity for stays and petticoats, some muslin, some cambric for +pocket-handkerchiefs, and many other articles which I should be very +glad to find in your shop, for I am a stranger here, and God knows in +what hands I am going to trust myself!" + +"You will be in honest ones, if you will give me your confidence." + +"I am sure that you deserve it, and I abandon my interests to you. +I want likewise to find some needlewomen willing to work in the +lady's room, because she requires everything to be made very +rapidly." + +"And dresses?" + +"Yes, dresses, caps, mantles-in fact, everything, for she is naked." + +"With money she will soon have all she wants. Is she young?" + +"She is four years younger than I. She is my wife." + +"Ah! may God bless you! Any children?" + +"Not yet, my good lady; but they will come, for we do all that is +necessary to have them." + +"I have no doubt of it. How pleased I am! Well, sir, I shall send +for the very phoenix of all dressmakers. In the mean time, choose +what you require, it will amuse you." + +I took the best of everything and paid, and the dressmaker making her +appearance at that moment I gave my address, requesting that various +sorts of stuff might be sent at once. I told the dressmaker and her +daughter, who had come with her, to follow me and to carry the linen. +On my way to the hotel I bought several pairs of silk stockings, and +took with me a bootmaker who lived close by. + +Oh, what a delightful moment! Henriette, who had not the slightest +idea of what I had gone out for, looked at everything with great +pleasure, yet without any of those demonstrations which announce a +selfish or interested disposition. She shewed her gratitude only by +the delicate praise which she bestowed upon my taste and upon the +quality of the articles I had purchased. She was not more cheerful +on account of my presents, but the tender affection with which she +looked at me was the best proof of her grateful feelings. + +The valet I had hired had entered the room with the shoemaker. +Henriette told him quietly to withdraw, and not to come unless he was +called. The dressmaker set to work, the shoemaker took her measure, +and I told him to bring some slippers. He returned in a short time, +and the valet came in again with him without having been called. The +shoemaker, who spoke French, was talking the usual nonsense of +dealers, when she interrupted him to ask the valet, who was standing +familiarly in the room, what he wanted. + +"Nothing, madam, I am only waiting for your orders." + +"Have I not told you that you would be called when your services were +required?" + +"I should like to know who is my master, you or the gentleman?" + +"Neither," I replied, laughing. "Here are your day's wages. Be off +at once." + +The shoemaker, seeing that Henriette spoke only French, begged to +recommend a teacher of languages. + +"What country does he belong to?" she enquired. + +"To Flanders, madam," answered Crispin, "he is a very learned man, +about fifty years old. He is said to be a good man. He charges +three libbre for each lesson of one hour, and six for two hours, but +he requires to be paid each time." + +"My dear," said Henriette to me, "do you wish me to engage that +master?" + +"Yes, dearest, it will amuse you." + +The shoemaker promised to send the Flemish professor the next +morning. + +The dressmakers were hard at work, the mother cutting and the +daughter sewing, but, as progress could not be too rapid, I told the +mother that she would oblige us if she could procure another +seamstress who spoke French. + +"You shall have one this very day, sir," she answered, and she +offered me the services of her own son as a servant, saying that if I +took him I should be certain to have neither a thief nor a spy about +me, and that he spoke French pretty well. Henriette thought we could +not do better than take the young man. Of course that was enough to +make me consent at once, for the slightest wish of the woman we love +is our supreme law. The mother went for him, and she brought back at +the same time the half-French dressmaker. It all amused my goddess, +who looked very happy. + +The young man was about eighteen, pleasant, gentle and modest. I +enquired his name, and he answered that it was Caudagna. + +The reader may very likely recollect that my father's native place +had been Parma, and that one of his sisters had married a Caudagna. +"It would be a curious coincidence," I thought, "if that dressmaker +should be my aunt, and my valet my cousin!" but I did not say it +aloud. + +Henriette asked me if I had any objection to the first dressmaker +dining at our table. + +"I entreat you, my darling," I answered, "never, for the future, to +ask my consent in such trifling matters. Be quite certain, my +beloved, that I shall always approve everything you may do." + +She smiled and thanked me. I took out my purse, and said to her; + +"Take these fifty sequins, dearest, to pay for all your small +expenses, and to buy the many trifles which I should be sure to +forget." + +She took the money, assuring me that she was vastly obliged to me. + +A short time before dinner the worthy captain made his appearance. +Henriette ran to meet him and kissed him, calling him her dear +father, and I followed her example by calling him my friend. My +beloved little wife invited him to dine with us every day. The +excellent fellow, seeing all the women working busily for Henriette, +was highly pleased at having procured such a good position for his +young adventuress, and I crowned his happiness by telling him that I +was indebted to him for my felicity. + +Our dinner was delicious, and it proved a cheerful meal. I found out +that Henriette was dainty, and my old friend a lover of good wines. +I was both, and felt that I was a match for them. We tasted several +excellent wines which D'Andremont had recommended, and altogether we +had a very good dinner. + +The young valet pleased me in consequence of the respectful manner in +which he served everyone, his mother as well as his masters. His +sister and the other seamstress had dined apart. + +We were enjoying our dessert when the hosier was announced, +accompanied by another woman and a milliner who could speak French. +The other woman had brought patterns of all sorts of dresses. I let +Henriette order caps, head-dresses, etc., as she pleased, but I would +interfere in the dress department although I complied with the +excellent taste of my charming friend. I made her choose four +dresses, and I was indeed grateful for her ready acceptance of them, +for my own happiness was increased in proportion to the pleasure I +gave her and the influence I was obtaining over her heart. + +Thus did we spend the first day, and we could certainly not have +accomplished more. + +In the evening, as we were alone at supper, I fancied that her lovely +face looked sad. I told her so. + +"My darling," she answered, with a voice which went to my heart, "you +are spending a great deal of money on me, and if you do so in the +hope of my loving you more dearly I must tell you it is money lost, +for I do not love you now more than I did yesterday, but I do love +you with my whole heart. All you may do that is not strictly +necessary pleases me only because I see more and more how worthy you +are of me, but it is not needed to make me feel all the deep love +which you deserve." + +"I believe you, dearest, and my happiness is indeed great if you feel +that your love for me cannot be increased. But learn also, delight +of my heart, that I have done it all only to try to love you even +more than I do, if possible. I wish to see you beautiful and +brilliant in the attire of your sex, and if there is one drop of +bitterness in the fragrant cup of my felicity, it is a regret at not +being able to surround you with the halo which you deserve. Can I be +otherwise than delighted, my love, if you are pleased?" + +"You cannot for one moment doubt my being pleased, and as you have +called me your wife you are right in one way, but if you are not very +rich I leave it to you to judge how deeply I ought to reproach +myself." + +"Ah, my beloved angel! let me, I beg of you, believe myself wealthy, +and be quite certain that you cannot possibly be the cause of my +ruin. You were born only for my happiness. All I wish is that you +may never leave me. Tell me whether I can entertain such a hope." + +"I wish it myself, dearest, but who can be sure of the future? Are +you free? Are you dependent on anyone?" + +"I am free in the broadest meaning of that word, I am dependent on no +one but you, and I love to be so." + +"I congratulate you, and I am very glad of it, for no one can tear +you from my arms, but, alas! you know that I cannot say the same as +you. I am certain that some persons are, even now, seeking for me, +and they will not find it very difficult to secure me if they ever +discover where I am. Alas! I feel how miserable I should be if they +ever succeeded in dragging me away from you!" + +"You make me tremble. Are you afraid of such a dreadful misfortune +here?" + +"No, unless I should happen to be seen by someone knowing me." + +"Are any such persons likely to be here at present?" + +"I think not." + +"Then do not let our love take alarm, I trust your fears will never +be verified. Only, my darling one, you must be as cheerful as you +were in Cesena." + +"I shall be more truly so now, dear friend. In Cesena I was +miserable; while now I am happy. Do not be afraid of my being sad, +for I am of a naturally cheerful disposition." + +"I suppose that in Cesena you were afraid of being caught by the +officer whom you had left in Rome?" + +"Not at all; that officer was my father-in-law, and I am quite +certain that he never tried to ascertain where I had gone. He was +only too glad to get rid of me. I felt unhappy because I could not +bear to be a charge on a man whom I could not love, and with whom I +could not even exchange one thought. Recollect also that I could not +find consolation in the idea that I was ministering to his happiness, +for I had only inspired him with a passing fancy which he had himself +valued at ten sequins. I could not help feeling that his fancy, once +gratified, was not likely at his time of life to become a more +lasting sentiment, and I could therefore only be a burden to him, for +he was not wealthy. Besides, there was a miserable consideration +which increased my secret sorrow. I thought myself bound in duty to +carress him, and on his side, as he thought that he ought to pay me +in the same money, I was afraid of his ruining his health for me, and +that idea made me very unhappy. Having no love for each other, we +allowed a foolish feeling of regard to make both of us uncomfortable. +We lavished, for the sake of a well-meaning but false decorum, that +which belongs to love alone. Another thing troubled me greatly. I +was afraid lest people might suppose that I was a source of profit +to him. That idea made me feel the deepest shame, yet, whenever I +thought of it, I could not help admitting that such a supposition, +however false, was not wanting in probability. It is owing to that +feeling that you found me so reserved towards you, for I was afraid +that you might harbour that fearful idea if I allowed, you to read in +my looks the favourable impression which you had made on my heart." + +"Then it was not owing to a feeling of self-love?" + +"No, I confess it, for you could but judge me as I deserved. I had +been guilty of the folly now known to you because my father-in-law +intended to bury me in a convent, and that did not suit my taste. +But, dearest friend, you must forgive me if, I cannot confide even to +you the history of my life." + +"I respect your secret, darling; you need not fear any intrusion from +me on that subject. All we have to do is to love one another, and +not to allow any dread of the future to mar our actual felicity." + +The next day, after a night of intense enjoyment, I found myself more +deeply in love than before, and the next three months were spent by +us in an intoxication of delight. + +At nine o'clock the next morning the teacher of Italian was +announced. I saw a man of respectable appearance, polite, modest, +speaking little but well, reserved in his answers, and with the +manners of olden times. We conversed, and I could not help laughing +when he said, with an air of perfect good faith, that a Christian +could only admit the system of Copernicus as a clever hypothesis. +I answered that it was the system of God Himself because it was that +of nature, and that it was not in Holy Scripture that the laws of +science could be learned. + +The teacher smiled in a manner which betrayed the Tartufe, and if I +had consulted only my own feelings I should have dismissed the poor +man, but I thought that he might amuse Henriette and teach her +Italian; after all it was what I wanted from him. My dear wife told +him that she would give him six libbre for a lesson of two hours: the +libbra of Parma being worth only about threepence, his lessons were +not very expensive. She took her first lesson immediately and gave +him two sequins, asking him to purchase her some good novels. + +Whilst my dear Henriette was taking her lesson, I had some +conversation with the dressmaker, in order to ascertain whether she +was a relative of mine. + +"What does your husband do?" I asked her. + +"He is steward to the Marquis of Sissa." + +"Is your father still alive?" + +"No, sir, he is dead." + +"What was his family name?" + +"Scotti." + +"Are your husband's parents still alive?" + +"His father is dead, but his mother is still alive, and resides with +her uncle, Canon Casanova." + +That was enough. The good woman was my Welsh cousin, and her +children were my Welsh nephews. My niece Jeanneton was not pretty; +but she appeared to be a good girl. I continued my conversation with +the mother, but I changed the topic. + +"Are the Parmesans satisfied with being the subjects of a Spanish +prince?" + +"Satisfied? Well, in that case, we should be easily pleased, for we +are now in a regular maze. Everything is upset, we do not know where +we are. Oh! happy times of the house of Farnese, whither have you +departed? The day before yesterday I went to the theatre, and +Harlequin made everybody roar with laughter. Well, now, fancy, Don +Philipo, our new duke, did all he could to remain serious, and when +he could not manage it, he would hide his face in his hat so that +people should not see that he was laughing, for it is said that +laughter ought never to disturb the grave and stiff countenance of an +Infante of Spain, and that he would be dishonoured in Madrid if he +did not conceal his mirth. What do you think of that? Can such +manners suit us? Here we laugh willingly and heartily! Oh! the good +Duke Antonio (God rest his soul!) was certainly as great a prince as +Duke Philipo, but he did not hide himself from his subjects when he +was pleased, and he would sometimes laugh so heartily that he could +be heard in the streets. Now we are all in the most fearful +confusion, and for the last three months no one in Parma knows what's +o'clock." + +"Have all the clocks been destroyed?" + +"No, but ever since God created the world, the sun has always gone +down at half-past five, and at six the bells have always been tolled +for the Angelus. All respectable people knew that at that time the +candle had to be lit. Now, it is very strange, the sun has gone mad, +for he sets every day at a different hour. Our peasants do not know +when they are to come to market. All that is called a regulation but +do you know why? Because now everybody knows that dinner is to be +eaten at twelve o'clock. A fine regulation, indeed! Under the +Farnese we used to eat when we were hungry, and that was much +better." + +That way of reasoning was certainly singular, but I did not think it +sounded foolish in the mouth of a woman of humble rank. It seems to +me that a government ought never to destroy ancient customs abruptly, +and that innocent errors ought to be corrected only by degrees. + +Henriette had no watch. I felt delighted at the idea of offering her +such a present, and I went out to purchase one, but after I had +bought a very fine watch, I thought of ear-rings, of a fan, and of +many other pretty nicknacks. Of course I bought them all at once. +She received all those gifts offered by love with a tender delicacy +which overjoyed me. She was still with the teacher when I came back. + +"I should have been able," he said to me, "to teach your lady +heraldry, geography, history, and the use of the globes, but she +knows that already. She has received an excellent education." + +The teacher's name was Valentin de la Haye. He told me that he was +an engineer and professor of mathematics. I shall have to speak of +him very often in these Memoirs, and my readers will make his +acquaintance by his deeds better than by any portrait I could give of +him, so I will merely say that he was a true Tartufe, a worthy pupil +of Escobar. + +We had a pleasant dinner with our Hungarian friend. Henriette was +still wearing the uniform, and I longed to see her dressed as a +woman. She expected a dress to be ready for the next day, and she +was already supplied with petticoats and chemises. + +Henriette was full of wit and a mistress of repartee. The milliner, +who was a native of Lyons, came in one morning, and said in French: + +"Madame et Monsieur, j'ai l'honneur de vous souhaiter le bonjour." + +"Why," said my friend, "do you not say Monsieur et madame?" + +"I have always heard that in society the precedence is given to the +ladies." + +"But from whom do we wish to receive that honour?" + +"From gentlemen, of course." + +"And do you not see that women would render themselves ridiculous if +they did not grant to men the same that they expect from them. If we +wish them never to fail in politeness towards us, we must shew them +the example." + +"Madam," answered the shrewd milliner, "you have taught me an +excellent lesson, and I will profit by it. Monsieur et madame, je +suis votre servante." + +This feminine controversy greatly amused me. + +Those who do not believe that a woman can make a man happy through +the twenty-four hours of the day have never possessed a woman like +Henriette. The happiness which filled me, if I can express it in +that manner, was much greater when I conversed with her even than +when I held her in my arms. She had read much, she had great tact, +and her taste was naturally excellent; her judgment was sane, and, +without being learned, she could argue like a mathematician, easily +and without pretension, and in everything she had that natural grace +which is so charming. She never tried to be witty when she said +something of importance, but accompanied her words with a smile which +imparted to them an appearance of trifling, and brought them within +the understanding of all. In that way she would give intelligence +even to those who had none, and she won every heart. Beauty without +wit offers love nothing but the material enjoyment of its physical +charms, whilst witty ugliness captivates by the charms of the mind, +and at last fulfils all the desires of the man it has captivated. + +Then what was my position during all the time that I possessed my +beautiful and witty Henriette? That of a man so supremely happy that +I could scarcely realize my felicity! + +Let anyone ask a beautiful woman without wit whether she would be +willing to exchange a small portion of her beauty for a sufficient +dose of wit. If she speaks the truth, she will say, "No, I am +satisfied to be as I am." But why is she satisfied? Because she is +not aware of her own deficiency. Let an ugly but witty woman be +asked if she would change her wit against beauty, and she will not +hestitate in saying no. Why? Because, knowing the value of her wit, +she is well aware that it is sufficient by itself to make her a queen +in any society. + +But a learned woman, a blue-stocking, is not the creature to minister +to a man's happiness. Positive knowledge is not a woman's province. +It is antipathetic to the gentleness of her nature, to the amenity, +to the sweet timidity which are the greatest charms of the fair sex, +besides, women never carry their learning beyond certain limits, and +the tittle-tattle of blue-stockings can dazzle no one but fools. +There has never been one great discovery due to a woman. The fair +sex is deficient in that vigorous power which the body lends to the +mind, but women are evidently superior to men in simple reasoning, in +delicacy of feelings, and in that species of merit which appertains +to the heart rather than to the mind. + +Hurl some idle sophism at a woman of intelligence. She will not +unravel it, but she will not be deceived by it, and, though she may +not say so, she will let you guess that she does not accept it. A +man, on the contrary, if he cannot unravel the sophism, takes it in a +literal sense, and in that respect the learned woman is exactly the +same as man. What a burden a Madame Dacier must be to a man! May +God save every honest man from such! + +When the new dress was brought, Henriette told me that she did not +want me to witness the process of her metamorphosis, and she desired +me to go out for a walk until she had resumed her original form. I +obeyed cheerfully, for the slightest wish of the woman we love is a +law, and our very obedience increases our happiness. + +As I had nothing particular to do, I went to a French bookseller in +whose shop I made the acquaintance of a witty hunchback, and I must +say that a hunchback without wit is a raga avis; I have found it so +in all countries. Of course it is not wit which gives the hump, for, +thank God, all witty men are not humpbacked, but we may well say that +as a general rule the hump gives wit, for the very small number of +hunchbacks who have little or no wit only confirms the rule: The one +I was alluding to just now was called Dubois-Chateleraux. He was a +skilful engraver, and director of the Mint of Parma for the Infante, +although that prince could not boast of such an institution. + +I spent an hour with the witty hunchback, who shewed me several of +his engravings, and I returned to the hotel where I found the +Hungarian waiting to see Henriette. He did not know that she would +that morning receive us in the attire of her sex. The door was +thrown open, and a beautiful, charming woman met us with a courtesy +full of grace, which no longer reminded us of the stiffness or of the +too great freedom which belong to the military costume. Her sudden +appearance certainly astonished us, and we did not know what to say +or what to do. She invited us to be seated, looked at the captain in +a friendly manner, and pressed my hand with the warmest affection, +but without giving way any more to that outward familiarity which a +young officer can assume, but which does not suit a well-educated +lady. Her noble and modest bearing soon compelled me to put myself +in unison with her, and I did so without difficulty, for she was not +acting a part, and the way in which she had resumed her natural +character made it easy for me to follow her on that ground. + +I was gazing at her with admiration, and, urged by a feeling which I +did not take time to analyze, I took her hand to kiss it with +respect, but, without giving me an opportunity of raising it to my +lips, she offered me her lovely mouth. Never did a kiss taste so +delicious. + +"Am I not then always the same?" said she to me, with deep feeling. + +"No, heavenly creature, and it is so true that you are no longer the +same in my eyes that I could not now use any familiarity towards you. +You are no longer the witty, free young officer who told Madame +Querini about the game of Pharaoh, end about the deposits made to +your bank by the captain in so niggardly a manner that they were +hardly worth mentioning." + +"It is very true that, wearing the costume of my sex, I should never +dare to utter such words. Yet, dearest friend, it does not prevent +my being your Henriette--that Henriette who has in her life been +guilty of three escapades, the last of which would have utterly +ruined me if it had not been for you, but which I call a delightful +error, since it has been the cause of my knowing you." + +Those words moved me so deeply that I was on the point of throwing +myself at her feet, to entreat her to forgive me for not having shewn +her more respect, but Henriette, who saw the state in which I was, +and who wanted to put an end to the pathetic scene, began to shake +our poor captain, who sat as motionless as a statue, and as if he had +been petrified. He felt ashamed at having treated such a woman as an +adventuress, for he knew that what he now saw was not an illusion. +He kept looking at her with great confusion, and bowing most +respectfully, as if he wanted to atone for his past conduct towards +her. As for Henriette, she seemed to say to him, but without the +shadow of a reproach; + +"I am glad that you think me worth more than ten sequins." + +We sat down to dinner, and from that moment she did the honours of +the table with the perfect ease of a person who is accustomed to +fulfil that difficult duty. She treated me like a beloved husband, +and the captain like a respected friend. The poor Hungarian begged +me to tell her that if he had seen her, as she was now, in Civita +Vecchia, when she came out of the tartan, he should never have +dreamed of dispatching his cicerone to her room. + +"Oh! tell him that I do not doubt it. But is it not strange that a +poor little female dress should command more respect than the garb of +an officer?" + +"Pray do not abuse the officer's costume, for it is to it that I am +indebted for my happiness." + +"Yes," she said, with a loving smile, "as I owe mine to the sbirri of +Cesena." + +We remained for a long time at the table, and our delightful +conversation turned upon no other topic than our mutual felicity. +If it had not been for the uneasiness of the poor captain, which at +last struck us, we should never have put a stop either to the dinner +or to, our charming prattle. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +I Engage a Box at the Opera, in Spite of Henriette's Reluctance-- +M. Dubois Pays Us a Visit and Dines with Us; My Darling Plays Him a +Trick--Henriette Argues on Happiness--We Call on Dubois, and My Wife +Displays Her Marvellous Talent--M. Dutillot The Court gives a +Splendid Entertainment in the Ducal Gardens--A Fatal Meeting--I Have +an Interview with M. D'Antoine, the Favourite of the Infante of Spain + + +The happiness I was enjoying was too complete to last long. I was +fated to lose it, but I must not anticipate events. Madame de +France, wife of the Infante Don Philip, having arrived in Parma, the +opera house was opened, and I engaged a private box, telling +Henriette that I intended to take her to the theatre every night. +She had several times confessed that she had a great passion for +music, and I had no doubt that she would be pleased with my proposal. +She had never yet seen an Italian opera, and I felt certain that she +wished to ascertain whether the Italian music deserved its universal +fame. But I was indeed surprised when she exclaimed, + +"What, dearest! You wish to go every evening to the opera?" + +"I think, my love, that, if we did not go, we should give some excuse +for scandal-mongers to gossip. Yet, should you not like it, you know +that there is no need for us to go. Do not think of me, for I prefer +our pleasant chat in this room to the heavenly concert of the +seraphs." + +"I am passionately fond of music, darling, but I cannot help +trembling at the idea of going out." + +"If you tremble, I must shudder, but we ought to go to the opera or +leave Parma. Let us go to London or to any other place. Give your +orders, I am ready to do anything you like." + +"Well, take a private box as little exposed as possible." + +"How kind you are!" + +The box I had engaged was in the second tier, but the theatre being +small it was difficult for a pretty woman to escape observation. + +I told her so. + +"I do not think there is any danger," she answered; "for I have not +seen the name of any person of my acquaintance in the list of +foreigners which you gave me to read." + +Thus did Henriette go to the opera. I had taken care that our box +should not be lighted up. It was an opera-buffa, the music of +Burellano was excellent, and the singers were very good. + +Henriette made no use of her opera-glass except to look on the stage, +and nobody paid any attention to us. As she had been greatly pleased +with the finale of the second act, I promised to get it for her, and +I asked Dubois to procure it for me. Thinking that she could play +the harpsichord, I offered to get one, but she told me that she had +never touched that instrument. + +On the night of the fourth or fifth performance M. Dubois came to our +box, and as I did not wish to introduce him to my friend, I only +asked what I could do for him. He then handed me the music I had +begged him to purchase for me, and I paid him what it had cost, +offering him my best thanks. As we were just opposite the ducal box, +I asked him, for the sake of saying something, whether he had +engraved the portraits of their highnesses. He answered that he had +already engraved two medals, and I gave him an order for both, in +gold. He promised to let me have them, and left the box. Henriette +had not even looked at him, and that was according to all established +rules, as I had not introduced him, but the next morning he was +announced as we were at dinner. M. de la Haye, who was dining with +us, complimented us upon having made the acquaintance of Dubois, and +introduced him to his pupil the moment he came into the room. It was +then right for Henriette to welcome him, which she did most +gracefully. + +After she had thanked him for the 'partizione', she begged he would +get her some other music, and the artist accepted her request as a +favour granted to him. + +"Sir," said Dubois to me, "I have taken the liberty of bringing the +medals you wished to have; here they are." + +On one were the portraits of the Infante and his wife, on the other +was engraved only the head of Don Philip. They were both beautifully +engraved, and we expressed our just admiration. "The workmanship is +beyond all price," said Henriette, "but the gold can be bartered for +other gold." "Madam," answered the modest artist, "the medals weight +sixteen sequins." She gave him the amount immediately, and invited +him to call again at dinner-time. Coffee was just brought in at that +moment, and she asked him to take it with us. Before sweetening his +cup, she enquired whether he liked his coffee very sweet. + +"Your taste, madam," answered the hunchback, gallantly, "is sure to +be mine." + +"Then you have guessed that I always drink coffee without sugar. I +am glad we have that taste in common." + +And she gracefully offered him the cup of coffee without sugar. She +then helped De la Haye and me, not forgetting to put plenty of sugar +in our cups, and she poured out one for herself exactly like the one +she handed to Dubois. It was much ado for me not to laugh, for my +mischievous French-woman, who liked her coffee in the Parisian +fashion, that is to say very sweet, was sipping the bitter beverage +with an air of delight which compelled the director of the Mint to +smile under the infliction. But the cunning hunchback was even with +her; accepting the penalty of his foolish compliment, and praising +the good quality of the coffee, he boldly declared that it was the +only way to taste the delicious aroma of the precious berry. + +When Dubois and De la Haye had left us, we both laughed at the trick. + +"But," said I to Henriette, "you will be the first victim of your +mischief, for whenever he dines with us, you must keep up the joke, +in order not to betray yourself." + +"Oh! I can easily contrive to drink my coffee well sweetened, and to +make him drain the bitter cup." + +At the end of one month, Henriette could speak Italian fluently, and +it was owing more to the constant practice she had every day with my +cousin Jeanneton, who acted as her maid, than to the lessons of +Professor de la Haye. The lessons only taught her the rules, and +practice is necessary to acquire a language. I have experienced it +myself. I learned more French during the too short period that I +spent so happily with my charming Henriette than in all the lessons I +had taken from Dalacqua. + +We had attended the opera twenty times without making any +acquaintance, and our life was indeed supremely happy. I never went +out without Henriette, and always in a carriage; we never received +anyone, and nobody knew us. Dubois was the only person, since the +departure of the good Hungarian, who sometimes dined with us; I do +not reckon De la Haye, who was a daily guest at our table. Dubois +felt great curiosity about us, but he was cunning and did not shew +his curiosity; we were reserved without affectation, and his +inquisitiveness was at fault. One day he mentioned to us that the +court of the Infante of Parma was very brilliant since the arrival of +Madame de France, and that there were many foreigners of both sexes +in the city. Then, turning towards Henriette, he said to her; + +"Most of the foreign ladies whom we have here are unknown to us." + +"Very likely, many of them would not shew themselves if they were +known." + +"Very likely, madam, as you say, but I can assure you that, even if +their beauty and the richness of their toilet made them conspicuous, +our sovereigns wish for freedom. I still hope, madam, that we shall +have the happiness of seeing you at the court of the duke." + +"I do not think so, for, in my opinion, it is superlatively +ridiculous for a lady to go to the court without being presented, +particularly if she has a right to be so." + +The last words, on which Henriette had laid a little more stress than +upon the first part of her answer, struck our little hunchback dumb, +and my friend, improving her opportunity, changed the subject of +conversation. + +When he had gone we enjoyed the check she had thus given to the +inquisitiveness of our guest, but I told Henriette that, in good +conscience, she ought to forgive all those whom she rendered curious, +because.... she cut my words short by covering me with loving +kisses. + +Thus supremely happy, and finding in one another constant +satisfaction, we would laugh at those morose philosophers who deny +that complete happiness can be found on earth. + +"What do they mean, darling--those crazy fools--by saying that +happiness is not lasting, and how do they understand that word? If +they mean everlasting, immortal, unintermitting, of course they are +right, but the life of man not being such, happiness, as a natural +consequence, cannot be such either. Otherwise, every happiness is +lasting for the very reason that it does exist, and to be lasting it +requires only to exist. But if by complete felicity they understand +a series of varied and never-interrupted pleasures, they are wrong, +because, by allowing after each pleasure the calm which ought to +follow the enjoyment of it, we have time to realize happiness in its +reality. In other words those necessary periods of repose are a +source of true enjoyment, because, thanks to them, we enjoy the +delight of recollection which increases twofold the reality of +happiness. Man can be happy only when in his own mind he realizes +his happiness, and calm is necessary to give full play to his mind; +therefore without calm man would truly never be completely happy, and +pleasure, in order to be felt, must cease to be active. Then what do +they mean by that word lasting? + +"Every day we reach a moment when we long for sleep, and, although it +be the very likeness of non-existence, can anyone deny that sleep is +a pleasure? No, at least it seems to me that it cannot be denied +with consistency, for, the moment it comes to us, we give it the +preference over all other pleasures, and we are grateful to it only +after it has left us. + +"Those who say that no one can be happy throughout life speak +likewise frivolously. Philosophy teaches the secret of securing that +happiness, provided one is free from bodily sufferings. A felicity +which would thus last throughout life could be compared to a nosegay +formed of a thousand flowers so beautifully, so skillfully blended +together, that it would look one single flower. Why should it be +impossible for us to spend here the whole of our life as we have +spent the last month, always in good health, always loving one +another, without ever feeling any other want or any weariness? Then, +to crown that happiness, which would certainly be immense, all that +would be wanted would be to die together, in an advanced age, +speaking to the last moment of our pleasant recollections. Surely +that felicity would have been lasting. Death would not interrupt it, +for death would end it. We could not, even then, suppose ourselves +unhappy unless we dreaded unhappiness after death, and such an idea +strikes me as absurd, for it is a contradiction of the idea of an +almighty and fatherly tenderness." + +It was thus that my beloved Henriette would often make me spend +delightful hours, talking philosophic sentiment. Her logic was +better than that of Cicero in his Tusculan Disputations, but she +admitted that such lasting felicity could exist only between two +beings who lived together, and loved each other with constant +affection, healthy in mind and in body, enlightened, sufficiently +rich, similar in tastes, in disposition, and in temperament. Happy +are those lovers who, when their senses require rest, can fall back +upon the intellectual enjoyments afforded by the mind! Sweet sleep +then comes, and lasts until the body has recovered its general +harmony. On awaking, the senses are again active and always ready to +resume their action. + +The conditions of existence are exactly the same for man as for the +universe, I might almost say that between them there is perfect +identity, for if we take the universe away, mankind no longer exists, +and if we take mankind away, there is no longer an universe; who +could realize the idea of the existence of inorganic matter? Now, +without that idea, 'nihil est', since the idea is the essence of +everything, and since man alone has ideas. Besides, if we abstract +the species, we can no longer imagine the existence of matter, and +vice versa. + +I derived from Henriette as great happiness as that charming woman +derived from me. We loved one another with all the strength of our +faculties, and we were everything to each other. She would often +repeat those pretty lines of the good La, Fontaine: + + 'Soyez-vous l'un a l'autre un monde toujours beau, + Toujours divers, toujours nouveau; + Tenez-vous lieu de tout; comptez pour rien le reste.' + +And we did not fail to put the advice into practice, for never did a +minute of ennui or of weariness, never did the slightest trouble, +disturb our bliss. + +The day after the close of the opera, Dubois, who was dining with us, +said that on the following day he was entertaining the two first +artists, 'primo cantatore' and 'prima cantatrice', and added that, if +we liked to come, we would hear some of their best pieces, which they +were to sing in a lofty hall of his country-house particularly +adapted to the display of the human voice. Henriette thanked him +warmly, but she said that, her health being very delicate, she could +not engage herself beforehand, and she spoke of other things. + +When we were alone, I asked her why she had refused the pleasure +offered by Dubois. + +"I should accept his invitation," she answered, "and with delight, if +I were not afraid of meeting at his house some person who might know +me, and would destroy the happiness I am now enjoying with you." + +"If you have any fresh motive for dreading such an occurrence, you +are quite right, but if it is only a vague, groundless fear, my love, +why should you deprive yourself of a real and innocent pleasure? If +you knew how pleased I am when I see you enjoy yourself, and +particularly when I witness your ecstacy in listening to fine music!" + +"Well, darling, I do not want to shew myself less brave than you. We +will go immediately after dinner. The artists will not sing before. +Besides, as he does not expect us, he is not likely to have invited +any person curious to speak to me. We will go without giving him +notice of our coming, without being expected, and as if we wanted to +pay him a friendly visit. He told us that he would be at his +country-house, and Caudagna knows where it is." + +Her reasons were a mixture of prudence and of love, two feelings +which are seldom blended together. My answer was to kiss her with as +much admiration as tenderness, and the next day at four o'clock in +the afternoon we paid our visit to M. Dubois. We were much +surprised, for we found him alone with a very pretty girl, whom he +presented to us as his niece. + +"I am delighted to see you," he said, "but as I did not expect to see +you I altered my arrangements, and instead of the dinner I had +intended to give I have invited my friends to supper. I hope you +will not refuse me the honour of your company. The two virtuosi will +soon be here." + +We were compelled to accept his invitation. + +"Will there be many guests?" I enquired. + +"You will find yourselves in the midst of people worthy of you," he +answered, triumphantly. "I am only sorry that I have not invited any +ladies." + +This polite remark, which was intended for Henriette, made her drop +him a curtsy, which she accompanied with a smile. I was pleased to +read contentment on her countenance, but, alas! she was concealing +the painful anxiety which she felt acutely. Her noble mind refused +to shew any uneasiness, and I could not guess her inmost thoughts +because I had no idea that she had anything to fear. + +I should have thought and acted differently if I had known all her +history. Instead of remaining in Parma I should have gone with her +to London, and I know now that she would have been delighted to go +there. + +The two artists arrived soon afterwards; they were the 'primo +cantatore' Laschi, and the 'prima donna' Baglioni, then a very pretty +woman. The other guests soon followed; all of them were Frenchmen +and Spaniards of a certain age. No introductions took place, and I +read the tact of the witty hunchback in the omission, but as all the +guests were men used to the manners of the court, that neglect of +etiquette did not prevent them from paying every honour to my lovely +friend, who received their compliments with that ease and good +breeding which are known only in France, and even there only in the +highest society, with the exception, however, of a few French +provinces in which the nobility, wrongly called good society, shew +rather too openly the haughtiness which is characteristic of that +class. + +The concert began by a magnificent symphony, after which Laschi and +Baglioni sang a duet with great talent and much taste. They were +followed by a pupil of the celebrated Vandini, who played a concerto +on the violoncello, and was warmly applauded. + +The applause had not yet ceased when Henriette, leaving her seat, +went up to the young artist, and told him, with modest confidence, as +she took the violoncello from him, that she could bring out the +beautiful tone of the instrument still better. I was struck with +amazement. She took the young man's seat, placed the violoncello +between her knees, and begged the leader of the orchestra to begin +the concerto again. The deepest silence prevailed. I was trembling +all over, and almost fainting. Fortunately every look was fixed upon +Henriette, and nobody thought of me. Nor was she looking towards me, +she would not have then ventured even one glance, for she would have +lost courage, if she had raised her beautiful eyes to my face. +However, not seeing her disposing herself to play, I was beginning to +imagine that she had only been indulging in a jest, when she suddenly +made the strings resound. My heart was beating with such force that +I thought I should drop down dead. + +But let the reader imagine my situation when, the concerto being +over, well-merited applause burst from every part of the room! The +rapid change from extreme fear to excessive pleasure brought on an +excitement which was like a violent fever. The applause did not seem +to have any effect upon Henriette, who, without raising her eyes from +the notes which she saw for the first time, played six pieces with +the greatest perfection. As she rose from her seat, she did not +thank the guests for their applause, but, addressing the young artist +with affability, she told him, with a sweet smile, that she had never +played on a finer instrument. Then, curtsying to the audience, she +said, + +"I entreat your forgiveness for a movement of vanity which has made +me encroach on your patience for half an hour." + +The nobility and grace of this remark completely upset me, and I ran +out to weep like a child, in the garden where no one could see me. + +"Who is she, this Henriette?" I said to myself, my heart beating, and +my eyes swimming with tears of emotion, "what is this treasure I have +in my possession?" + +My happiness was so immense that I felt myself unworthy of it. + +Lost in these thoughts which enhanced the pleasure of any tears, I +should have stayed for a long tune in the garden if Dubois had not +come out to look for me. He felt anxious about me, owing to my +sudden disappearance, and I quieted him by saying that a slight +giddiness had compelled me to come out to breathe the fresh air. + +Before re-entering the room, I had time to dry my tears, but my +eyelids were still red. Henriette, however, was the only one to take +notice of it, and she said to me, + +"I know, my darling, why you went into the garden" + +She knew me so well that she could easily guess the impression made +on my heart by the evening's occurrence. + +Dubois had invited the most amiable noblemen of the court, and his +supper was dainty and well arranged. I was seated opposite Henriette +who was, as a matter of course, monopolizing the general attention, +but she would have met with the same success if she had been +surrounded by a circle of ladies whom she would certainly have thrown +into the shade by her beauty, her wit, and the distinction of her +manners. She was the charm of that supper by the animation she +imparted to the conversation. M. Dubois said nothing, but he was +proud to have such a lovely guest in his house. She contrived to say +a few gracious words to everyone, and was shrewd enough never to +utter something witty without making me take a share in it. On my +side, I openly shewed my submissiveness, my deference, and my respect +for that divinity, but it was all in vain. She wanted everybody to +know that I was her lord and master. She might have been taken for +my wife, but my behaviour to her rendered such a supposition +improbable. + +The conversation having fallen on the respective merits of the French +and Spanish nations, Dubois was foolish enough to ask Henriette to +which she gave preference. + +It would have been difficult to ask a more indiscreet question, +considering that the company was composed almost entirely of +Frenchmen and Spaniards in about equal proportion. Yet my Henriette +turned the difficulty so cleverly that the Frenchmen would have liked +to be Spaniards, and 'vice versa'. Dubois, nothing daunted, begged +her to say what she thought of the Italians. The question made me +tremble. A certain M. de la Combe, who was seated near me, shook his +head in token of disapprobation, but Henriette did not try to elude +the question. + +"What can I say about the Italians," she answered, "I know only one? +If I am to judge them all from that one my judgment must certainly be +most favourable to them, but one single example is not sufficient to +establish the rule." + +It was impossible to give a better answer, but as my readers may well +imagine, I did not appear to have heard it, and being anxious to +prevent any more indiscreet questions from Dubois I turned the +conversation into a different channel. + +The subject of music was discussed, and a Spaniard asked Henriette +whether she could play any other instrument besides the violoncello. + +"No," she answered, "I never felt any inclination for any other. I +learned the violoncello at the convent to please my mother, who can +play it pretty well, and without an order from my father, sanctioned +by the bishop, the abbess would never have given me permission to +practise it." + +"What objection could the abbess make?" + +"That devout spouse of our Lord pretended that I could not play that +instrument without assuming an indecent position." + +At this the Spanish guests bit their lips, but the Frenchmen laughed +heartily, and did not spare their epigrams against the over- +particular abbess. + +After a short silence, Henriette rose, and we all followed her +example. It was the signal for breaking up the party, and we soon +took our leave. + +I longed to find myself alone with the idol of my soul. I asked her +a hundred questions without waiting for the answers. + +"Ah! you were right, my own Henriette, when you refused to go to +that concert, for you knew that you would raise many enemies against +me. I am certain that all those men hate me, but what do I care? +You are my universe! Cruel darling, you almost killed me with your +violoncello, because, having no idea of your being a musician, I +thought you had gone mad, and when I heard you I was compelled to +leave the room in order to weep undisturbed. My tears relieved my +fearful oppression. Oh! I entreat you to tell me what other talents +you possess. Tell me candidly, for you might kill me if you brought +them out unexpectedly, as you have done this evening." + +"I have no other accomplishments, my best beloved. I have emptied my +bag all at once. Now you know your Henriette entirely. Had you not +chanced to tell me about a month ago that you had no taste for music, +I would have told you that I could play the violoncello remarkably +well, but if I had mentioned such a thing, I know you well enough to +be certain that you would have bought an instrument immediately, and +I could not, dearest, find pleasure in anything that would weary +you." + +The very next morning she had an excellent violoncello, and, far from +wearying me, each time she played she caused me a new and greater +pleasure. I believe that it would be impossible even to a man +disliking music not to become passionately fond of it, if that art +were practised to perfection by the woman he adores. + +The 'vox humana' of the violoncello; the king of instruments, went to +my heart every time that my beloved Henriette performed upon it. She +knew I loved to hear her play, and every day she afforded me that +pleasure. Her talent delighted me so much that I proposed to her to +give some concerts, but she was prudent enough to refuse my proposal. +But in spite of all her prudence we had no power to hinder the +decrees of fate. + +The fatal hunchback came the day after his fine supper to thank us +and to receive our well-merited praises of his concert, his supper, +and the distinction of his guests. + +"I foresee, madam," he said to Henriette, "all the difficulty I shall +have in defending myself against the prayers of all my friends, who +will beg of me to introduce them to you." + +"You need not have much trouble on that score: you know that I never, +receive anyone." + +Dubois did not again venture upon speaking of introducing any friend. + +On the same day I received a letter from young Capitani, in which he +informed me that, being the owner of St. Peter's knife and sheath, he +had called on Franzia with two learned magicians who had promised to +raise the treasure out of the earth, and that to his great surprise +Franzia had refused to receive him: He entreated me to write to the +worthy fellow, and to go to him myself if I wanted to have my share +of the treasure. I need not say that I did not comply with his +wishes, but I can vouch for the real pleasure I felt in finding that +I had succeeded in saving that honest and simple farmer from the +impostors who would have ruined him. + +One month was gone since the great supper given by Dubois. We had +passed it in all the enjoyment which can be derived both from the +senses and the mind, and never had one single instant of weariness +caused either of us to be guilty of that sad symptom of misery which +is called a yawn. The only pleasure we took out of doors was a drive +outside of the city when the weather was fine. As we never walked in +the streets, and never frequented any public place, no one had sought +to make our acquaintance, or at least no one had found an opportunity +of doing so, in spite of all the curiosity excited by Henriette +amongst the persons whom we had chanced to meet, particularly at the +house of Dubois. Henriette had become more courageous, and I more +confident, when we found that she had not been recognized by any one +either at that supper or at the theatre. She only dreaded persons +belonging to the high nobility. + +One day as we were driving outside the Gate of Colorno, we met the +duke and duchess who were returning to Parma. Immediately after +their carriage another vehicle drove along, in which was Dubois with +a nobleman unknown to us. Our carriage had only gone a few yards +from theirs when one of our horses broke down. The companion of +Dubois immediately ordered his coachman to stop in order to send to +our assistance. Whilst the horse was raised again, he came politely +to our carriage, and paid some civil compliment to Henriette. +M. Dubois, always a shrewd courtier and anxious to shew off at the +expense of others, lost no time in introducing him as M. Dutillot, +the French ambassador. My sweetheart gave the conventional bow. The +horse being all right again, we proceeded on our road after thanking +the gentlemen for their courtesy. Such an every-day occurrence could +not be expected to have any serious consequences, but alas! the most +important events are often the result of very trifling circumstances! + +The next day, Dubois breakfasted with us. He told us frankly that +M. Dutillot had been delighted at the fortunate chance which had +afforded him an opportunity of making our acquaintance, and that he +had entreated him to ask our permission to call on us. + +"On madam or on me?" I asked at once. + +"On both." + +"Very well, but one at a time. Madam, as you know, has her own room +and I have mine." + +"Yes, but they are so near each other!" + +"Granted, yet I must tell you that, as far as I am concerned, I +should have much pleasure in waiting upon his excellency if he should +ever wish to communicate with me, and you will oblige me by letting +him know it. As for madam, she is here, speak to her, my dear M. +Dubois, for I am only her very humble servant." + +Henriette assumed an air of cheerful politeness, and said to him, + +"Sir, I beg you will offer my thanks to M. Dutillot, and enquire from +him whether he knows me." + +"I am certain, madam," said the hunchback, "that he does not." + +"You see he does not know me, and yet he wishes to call on me. You +must agree with me that if I accepted his visits I should give him a +singular opinion of my character. Be good enough to tell him that, +although known to no one and knowing no one, I am not an adventuress, +and therefore I must decline the honour of his visits." + +Dubois felt that he had taken a false step, and remained silent. We +never asked him how the ambassador had received our refusal. + +Three weeks after the last occurrence, the ducal court residing then +at Colorno, a great entertainment was given in the gardens which were +to be illuminated all night. Everybody had permission to walk about +the gardens. Dubois, the fatal hunchback appointed by destiny, spoke +so much of that festival, that we took a fancy to see it. Always the +same story of Adam's apple. Dubois accompanied us. We went to +Colorno the day before the entertainment, and put up at an inn. + +In the evening we walked through the gardens, in which we happened to +meet the ducal family and suite. According to the etiquette of the +French court, Madame de France was the first to curtsy to Henriette, +without stopping. My eyes fell upon a gentleman walking by the side +of Don Louis, who was looking at my friend very attentively. A few +minutes after, as we were retracing our steps, we came across the +same gentleman who, after bowing respectfully to us, took Dubois +aside. They conversed together for a quarter of an hour, following +us all the time, and we were passing out of the gardens, when the +gentleman, coming forward, and politely apologizing to me, asked +Henriette whether he had the honour to be known to her. + +"I do not recollect having ever had the honour of seeing you before." + +"That is enough, madam, and I entreat you to forgive me." + +Dubois informed us that the gentleman was the intimate friend of the +Infante Don Louis, and that, believing he knew madam, he had begged +to be introduced. Dubois had answered that her name was D'Arci, and +that, if he was known to the lady, he required no introduction. +M. d'Antoine said that the name of D'Arci was unknown to him, and +that he was afraid of making a mistake. "In that state of doubt," +added Dubois, "and wishing to clear it, he introduced himself, but +now he must see that he was mistaken." + +After supper, Henriette appeared anxious. I asked her whether she +had only pretended not to know M. d'Antoine. + +"No, dearest, I can assure you. I know his name which belongs to an +illustrious family of Provence, but I have never seen him before." + +"Perhaps he may know you?" + +"He might have seen me, but I am certain that he never spoke to me, +or I would have recollected him." + +"That meeting causes me great anxiety, and it seems to have troubled +you." + +"I confess it has disturbed my mind." + +"Let us leave Parma at once and proceed to Genoa. We will go to +Venice as soon as my affairs there are settled." + +"Yes, my dear friend, we shall then feel more comfortable. But I do +not think we need be in any hurry." + +We returned to Parma, and two days afterwards my servant handed me a +letter, saying that the footman who had brought it was waiting in the +ante-room. + +"This letter," I said to Henriette, "troubles me." + +She took it, and after she had read it--she gave it back to me, +saying, + +"I think M. d'Antoine is a man of honour, and I hope that we may have +nothing to fear." + +The letter ran as, follows: + +"Either at your hotel or at my residence, or at any other place you +may wish to appoint, I entreat you, sir, to give me an opportunity of +conversing with you on a subject which must be of the greatest +importance to you. + +"I have the honour to be, etc. + + "D'ANTOINE." + +It was addressed M. Farusi. + +"I think I must see him," I said, "but where?" + +"Neither here nor at his residence, but in the ducal gardens. Your +answer must name only the place and the hour of the meeting." + +I wrote to M. d'Antoine that I would see him at half-past eleven in +the ducal gardens, only requesting him to appoint another hour in +case mine was not convenient to him. + +I dressed myself at once in order to be in good time, and meanwhile +we both endeavoured, Henriette and I, to keep a cheerful countenance, +but we could not silence our sad forebodings. I was exact to my +appointment and found M. d'Antoine waiting for me. As soon as we +were together, he said to me, + +"I have been compelled, sir, to beg from you the favour of an +interview, because I could not imagine any surer way to get this +letter to Madame d'Arci's hands. I entreat you to deliver it to her, +and to excuse me if I give it you sealed. Should I be mistaken, my +letter will not even require an answer, but should I be right, Madame +d'Arci alone can judge whether she ought to communicate it to you. +That is my reason for giving it to you sealed. If you are truly her +friend, the contents of that letter must be as interesting to you as +to her. May I hope, sir, that you will be good enough to deliver it +to her?" + +"Sir, on my honour I will do it." + +We bowed respectfully to each other, and parted company. I hurried +back to the hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +Henriette Receives the Visit of M. d'Antoine I Accompany Her as Far +as Geneva and Then I Lose Her--I Cross the St. Bernard, and Return +to Parma--A Letter from Hensiette--My Despair De La Haye Becomes +Attached to Me--Unpleasant Adventure with an Actress and Its +Consequences--I Turn a Thorough Bigot--Bavois--I Mystify a Bragging +Officer. + + +As soon as I had reached our apartment, my heart bursting with +anxiety, I repeated to Henriette every word spoken by M. d'Antoine, +and delivered his letter which contained four pages of writing. She +read it attentively with visible emotion, and then she said, + +"Dearest friend, do not be offended, but the honour of two families +does not allow of my imparting to you the contents of this letter. I +am compelled to receive M. d'Antoine, who represents himself as being +one of my relatives." + +"Ah!" I exclaimed, "this is the beginning of the end! What a +dreadful thought! I am near the end of a felicity which was too +great to last! Wretch that I have been! Why did I tarry so long in +Parma? What fatal blindness! Of all the cities in the whole world, +except France, Parma was the only one I had to fear, and it is here +that I have brought you, when I could have taken you anywhere else, +for you had no will but mine! I am all the more guilty that you +never concealed your fears from me. Why did I introduce that fatal +Dubois here? Ought I not to have guessed that his curiosity would +sooner or later prove injurious to us? And yet I cannot condemn that +curiosity, for it is, alas! a natural feeling. I can only accuse all +the perfections which Heaven has bestowed upon you!--perfections +which have caused my happiness, and which will plunge me in an abyss +of despair, for, alas! I foresee a future of fearful misery." + +"I entreat you, dearest, to foresee nothing, and to calm yourself. +Let us avail ourselves of all our reason in order to prove ourselves +superior to circumstances, whatever they may be. I cannot answer +this letter, but you must write to M. d'Antoine to call here tomorrow +and to send up his name." + +"Alas! you compel me to perform a painful task." + +"You are my best, my only friend; I demand nothing, I impose no task +upon you, but can you refuse me?" + +"No, never, no matter what you ask. Dispose of me, I am yours in +life and death." + +"I knew what you would answer. You must be with me when M. +d'Antoine calls, but after a few minutes given to etiquette, will +you find some pretext to go to your room, and leave us alone? +M. d'Antoine knows all my history; he knows in what I have done +wrong, in what I have been right; as a man of honour, as my relative, +he must shelter me from all affront. He shall not do anything +against my will, and if he attempts to deviate from the conditions I +will dictate to him, I will refuse to go to France, I will follow you +anywhere, and devote to you the remainder of my life. Yet, my +darling, recollect that some fatal circumstances may compel us to +consider our separation as the wisest course to adopt, that we must +husband all our courage to adopt it, if necessary, and to endeavour +not to be too unhappy. + +"Have confidence in me, and be quite certain that I shall take care to +reserve for myself the small portion of happiness which I can be +allowed to enjoy without the man who alone has won all my devoted +love. You will have, I trust, and I expect it from your generous +soul, the same care of your future, and I feel certain that you must +succeed. In the mean time, let us drive away all the sad forebodings +which might darken the hours we have yet before us." + +"Ah! why did we not go away immediately after we had met that +accursed favourite of the Infante!" + +"We might have made matters much worse; for in that case +M. d'Antoine might have made up his mind to give my family a proof of +his zeal by instituting a search to discover our place of residence, +and I should then have been exposed to violent proceedings which you +would not have endured. It would have been fatal to both of us." + +I did everything she asked me. From that moment our love became sad, +and sadness is a disease which gives the death-blow to affection. We +would often remain a whole hour opposite each other without +exchanging a single word, and our sighs would be heard whatever we +did to hush them. + +The next day, when M. d'Antoine called, I followed exactly the +instructions she had given me, and for six mortal hours I remained +alone, pretending to write. + +The door of my room was open, and a large looking-glass allowed us to +see each other. They spent those six hours in writing, occasionally +stopping to talk of I do not know what, but their conversation was +evidently a decisive one. The reader can easily realize how much I +suffered during that long torture, for I could expect nothing but the +total wreck of my happiness. + +As soon as the terrible M. d'Antoine had taken leave of her, +Henriette came to me, and observing that her eyes were red I heaved a +deep sigh, but she tried to smile. + +"Shall we go away to-morrow, dearest?" + +"Oh! yes, I am ready. Where do you wish me to take you?" + +"Anywhere you like, but we must be here in a fortnight." + +"Here! Oh, fatal illusion!" + +"Alas! it is so. I have promised to be here to receive the answer to +a letter I have just written. We have no violent proceedings to +fear, but I cannot bear to remain in Parma." + +"Ah! I curse the hour which brought us to this city. Would you like +to go to Milan?" + +"Yes." + +"As we are unfortunately compelled to come back, we may as well take +with us Caudagna and his sister." + +"As you please." + +"Let me arrange everything. I will order a carriage for them, and +they will take charge of your violoncello. Do you not think that you +ought to let M. d'Antoine know where we are going?" + +"No, it seems to me, on the contrary, that I need not account to him +for any of my proceedings. So much the worse for him if he should, +even for one moment, doubt my word." + +The next morning, we left Parma, taking only what we wanted for an +absence of a fortnight. We arrived in Milan without accident, but +both very sad, and we spent the following fifteen days in constant +tete-a-tete, without speaking to anyone, except the landlord of the +hotel and to a dressmaker. I presented my beloved Henriette with a +magnificent pelisse made of lynx fur--a present which she prized +highly. + +Out of delicacy, she had never enquired about my means, and I felt +grateful to her for that reserve. I was very careful to conceal from +her the fact that my purse was getting very light. When we came back +to Parma I had only three or four hundred sequins. + +The day after our return M. d'Antoine invited himself to dine with +us, and after we had drunk coffee, I left him alone with Henriette. +Their interview was as long as the first, and our separation was +decided. She informed me of it, immediately after the departure of +M. d'Antoine, and for a long time we remained folded in each other's +arms, silent, and blending our bitter tears. + +"When shall I have to part from you, my beloved, alas! too much +beloved one?" + +"Be calm, dearest, only when we reach Geneva, whither you are going +to accompany me. Will you try to find me a respectable maid by +to-morrow? She will accompany me from Geneva to the place where I am +bound to go." + +"Oh! then, we shall spend a few days more together! I know no one +but Dubois whom I could trust to procure a good femme-de-chambre; +only I do not want him to learn from her what you might not wish him +to know." + +"That will not be the case, for I will take another maid as soon as I +am in France." + +Three days afterwards, Dubois, who had gladly undertaken the +commission, presented to Henriette a woman already somewhat advanced +in years, pretty well dressed and respectable-looking, who, being +poor, was glad of an opportunity of going back to France, her native +country. Her husband, an old military officer, had died a few months +before, leaving her totally unprovided for. Henriette engaged her, +and told her to keep herself ready to start whenever M. Dubois should +give her notice. The day before the one fixed for our departure, M. +d'Antoine dined with us, and, before taking leave of us, he gave +Henriette a sealed letter for Geneva. + +We left Parma late in the evening, and stopped only two hours in +Turin, in order to engage a manservant whose services we required as +far as Geneva. The next day we ascended Mont Cenis in sedan-chairs, +and we descended to the Novalaise in mountain-sledges. On the fifth +day we reached Geneva, and we put up at the Hotel des Balances. The +next morning, Henriette gave me a letter for the banker Tronchin, +who, when he had read it, told me that he would call himself at the +hotel, and bring me one thousand louis d'or. + +I came back and we sat down to dinner. We had not finished our meal +when the banker was announced. He had brought the thousand louis +d'or, and told Henriette that he would give her two men whom he could +recommend in every way. + +She answered that she would leave Geneva as soon as she had the +carriage which he was to provide for her, according to the letter I +had delivered to him. He promised that everything would be ready for +the following day, and he left us. It was indeed a terrible moment! +Grief almost benumbed us both. We remained motionless, speechless, +wrapped up in the most profound despair. + +I broke that sad silence to tell her that the carriage which M. +Tronchin would provide could not possibly be as comfortable and as +safe as mine, and I entreated her to take it, assuring her that by +accepting it she would give me a last proof of her affection. + +"I will take in exchange, my dearest love, the carriage sent by the +banker." + +"I accept the change, darling," she answered, "it will be a great +consolation to possess something which has belonged to you." + +As she said these words, she slipped in my pocket five rolls +containing each one hundred louis d'or--a slight consolation for my +heart, which was almost broken by our cruel separation! During the +last twenty-four hours we could boast of no other eloquence but that +which finds expression in tears, in sobs, and in those hackneyed but +energetic exclamations, which two happy lovers are sure to address to +reason, when in its sternness it compels them to part from one +another in the very height of their felicity. Henriette did not +endeavour to lure me with any hope for the future, in order to allay +my sorrow! Far from that, she said to me, + +"Once we are parted by fate, my best and only friend, never enquire +after me, and, should chance throw you in my way, do not appear to +know me." + +She gave me a letter for M. d'Antoine, without asking me whether I +intended to go back to Parma, but, even if such had not been my +intention, I should have determined at once upon returning to that +city. She likewise entreated me not to leave Geneva until I had +received a letter which she promised to, write to me from the first +stage on her journey. She started at day-break, having with her a +maid, a footman on the box of the carriage, and being preceded by a +courier on horseback. I followed her with my eyes as long as I +could, see her carriage, and I was still standing on the same spot +long after my eyes had lost sight of it. All my thoughts were +wrapped up in the beloved object I had lost for ever. The world was +a blank! + +I went back to my room, ordered the waiter not to disturb me until +the return of the horses which had drawn Henriette's carriage, and I +lay down on my bed in the hope that sleep would for a time silence a +grief which tears could not drown. + +The postillion who had driven Henriette did not return till the next +day; he had gone as far as Chatillon. He brought me a letter in +which I found one single word: Adieu! He told me that they had +reached Chatillon without accident, and that the lady had immediately +continued her journey towards Lyons. As I could not leave Geneva +until the following day, I spent alone in my room some of the most +melancholy hours of my life. I saw on one of the panes of glass of a +window these words which she had traced with the point of a diamond I +had given her: "You will forget Henriette." That prophecy was not +likely to afford me any consolation. But had she attached its full +meaning to the word "forget?" No; she could only mean that time +would at last heal the deep wounds of my heart, and she ought not to +have made it deeper by leaving behind her those words which sounded +like a reproach. No, I have not forgotten her, for even now, when my +head is covered with white hair, the recollection of her is still a +source of happiness for my heart! When I think that in my old age I +derive happiness only from my recollections of the past, I find that +my long life must have counted more bright than dark days, and +offering my thanks to God, the Giver of all, I congratulate myself, +and confess that life is a great blessing. + +The next day I set off again for Italy with a servant recommended by +M. Tronchin, and although the season was not favourable I took the +road over Mont St. Bernard, which I crossed in three days, with seven +mules carrying me, my servant, my luggage, and the carriage sent by +the banker to the beloved woman now for ever lost to me. One of the +advantages of a great sorrow is that nothing else seems painful. It +is a sort of despair which is not without some sweetness. During +that journey I never felt either hunger or thirst, or the cold which +is so intense in that part of the Alps that the whole of nature seems +to turn to ice, or the fatigue inseparable from such a difficult and +dangerous journey. + +I arrived in Parma in pretty good health, and took up my quarters at +a small inn, in the hope that in such a place I should not meet any +acquaintance of mine. But I was much disappointed, for I found in +that inn M. de la Haye, who had a room next to mine. Surprised at +seeing me, he paid me a long compliment, trying to make me speak, but +I eluded his curiosity by telling him that I was tired, and that we +would see each other again. + +On the following day I called upon M. d'Antoine, and delivered the +letter which Henriette had written to him. He opened it in my +presence, and finding another to my address enclosed in his, he +handed it to me without reading it, although it was not sealed. +Thinking, however, that it might have been Henriette's intention that +he should read it because it was open, he asked my permission to do +so, which I granted with pleasure as soon as I had myself perused it. +He handed it back to me after he had read it, telling me very +feelingly that I could in everything rely upon him and upon his +influence and credit. + +Here is Henriette's letter + +"It is I, dearest and best friend, who have been compelled to abandon +you, but do not let your grief be increased by any thought of my +sorrow. Let us be wise enough to suppose that we have had a happy +dream, and not to complain of destiny, for never did so beautiful a +dream last so long! Let us be proud of the consciousness that for +three months we gave one another the most perfect felicity. Few +human beings can boast of so much! Let us swear never to forget one +another, and to often remember the happy hours of our love, in order +to renew them in our souls, which, although divided, will enjoy them +as acutely as if our hearts were beating one against the other. Do +not make any enquiries about me, and if chance should let you know +who I am, forget it for ever. I feel certain that you will be glad +to hear that I have arranged my affairs so well that I shall, for the +remainder of my life, be as happy as I can possibly be without you, +dear friend, by my side. I do not know who you are, but I am certain +that no one in the world knows you better than I do. I shall not +have another lover as long as I live, but I do not wish you to +imitate me. On the contrary I hope that you will love again, and I +trust that a good fairy will bring along your path another Henriette. +Farewell . . . farewell." + + ...................... + +I met that adorable woman fifteen years later; the reader will see +where and how, when we come to that period of my life. + + ...................... + +I went back to my room, careless of the future, broken down by the +deepest of sorrows, I locked myself in, and went to bed. I felt so +low in spirits that I was stunned. Life was not a burden, but only +because I did not give a thought to life. In fact I was in a state +of complete apathy, moral and physical. Six years later I found +myself in a similar predicament, but that time love was not the cause +of my sorrow; it was the horrible and too famous prison of The Leads, +in Venice. + +I was not much better either in 1768, when I was lodged in the prison +of Buen Retiro, in Madrid, but I must not anticipate events. +At the end of twenty-four hours, my exhaustion was very great, but I +did not find the sensation disagreeable, and, in the state of mind in +which I was then, I was pleased with the idea that, by increasing, +that weakness would at last kill me. I was delighted to see that no +one disturbed me to offer me some food, and I congratulated myself +upon having dismissed my servant. Twenty-four more hours passed by, +and my weakness became complete inanition. + +I was in that state when De la Haye knocked at my door. I would not +have answered if he had not said that someone insisted upon seeing +me. I got out of bed, and, scarcely able to stand, I opened my door, +after which I got into bed again. + +"There is a stranger here," he said, "who, being in want of a +carriage, offers to buy yours" + +"I do not want to sell it." + +"Excuse me if I have disturbed you, but you look ill." + +"Yes, I wish to be left alone." + +"What is the matter with you?" + +Coming nearer my bed, he took my hand, and found my pulse extremely +low and weak. + +"What did you eat yesterday?" + +"I have eaten nothing, thank God I for two days." + +Guessing the real state of things, De la Haye became anxious, and +entreated me to take some broth. He threw so much kindness, so much +unction, into his entreaties that, through weakness and weariness, I +allowed myself to be persuaded. Then, without ever mentioning the +name of Henriette, he treated me to a sermon upon the life to come, +upon the vanity of the things of this life which we are foolish +enough to prefer, and upon the necessity of respecting our existence, +which does not belong to us. + +I was listening without answering one word, but, after all, I was +listening, and De la Haye, perceiving his advantage, would not leave +me, and ordered dinner. I had neither the will nor the strength to +resist, and when the dinner was served, I ate something. Then De la +Have saw that he had conquered, and for the remainder of the day +devoted himself to amusing me by his cheerful conversation. + +The next day the tables were turned, for it was I who invited him to +keep me company and to dine with me. It seemed to me that I had not +lost a particle of my sadness, but life appeared to me once more +preferable to death, and, thinking that I was indebted to him for the +preservation of my life, I made a great friend of him. My readers +will see presently that my affection for him went very far, and they +will, like me, marvel at the cause of that friendship, and at the +means through which it was brought about. + +Three or four days afterwards, Dubois, who had been informed of +everything by De la Haye, called on me, and persuaded me to go out. +I went to the theatre, where I made the acquaintance of several +Corsican officers, who had served in France, in the Royal Italian +regiment. I also met a young man from Sicily, named Paterno, the +wildest and most heedless fellow it was possible to see. He was in +love with an actress who made a fool of him. He amused me with the +enumeration of all her adorable qualities, and of all the cruelties +she was practising upon him, for, although she received him at all +hours, she repulsed him harshly whenever he tried to steal the +slightest favour. In the mean time, she ruined him by making him pay +constantly for excellent dinners and suppers, which were eaten by her +family, but which did not advance him one inch towards the fulfilment +of his wishes. + +He succeeded at last in exciting my curiosity. I examined the +actress on the stage, and finding that she was not without beauty I +expressed a wish to know her. Paterno was delighted to introduce me +to her. + +I found that she was of tolerably easy virtue, and, knowing that she +was very far from rolling in riches, I had no doubt that fifteen or +twenty sequins would be quite sufficient to make her compliant. I +communicated my thoughts to Paterno, but he laughed and told me that, +if I dared to make such a proposition to her, she would certainly +shut her door against me. He named several officers whom she had +refused to receive again, because they had made similar offers. + +"Yet," added the young man, "I wish you would make the attempt, and +tell me the result candidly." + +I felt piqued, and promised to do it. + +I paid her a visit in her dressing-room at the theatre, and as she +happened during our conversation to praise the beauty of my watch, I +told her that she could easily obtain possession of it, and I said at +what price. She answered, according to the catechism of her +profession, that an honourable man had no right to make such an offer +to a respectable girl. + +"I offer only one ducat," said I, "to those who are not respectable." + +And I left her. + +When I told Paterno what had occurred, he fairly jumped for joy, but +I knew what to think of it all, for 'cosi sono tutte', and in spite +of all his entreaties, I declined to be present at his suppers, which +were far from amusing, and gave the family of the actress an +opportunity of laughing at the poor fool who was paying for them. + +Seven or eight days afterwards, Paterno told me that the actress had +related the affair to him exactly in the same words which I had used, +and she had added that, if I had ceased my visits, it was only +because I was afraid of her taking me at my word in case I should +renew my proposal. I commissioned him to tell her that I would pay +her another visit, not to renew my offer, but to shew my contempt for +any proposal she might make me herself. + +The heedless fellow fulfilled his commission so well that the +actress, feeling insulted, told him that she dared me to call on her. +Perfectly determined to shew that I despised her, I went to her +dressing-room the same evening, after the second act of a play in +which she had not to appear again. She dismissed those who were with +her, saying that she wanted to speak with me, and, after she had +bolted the door, she sat down gracefully on my knees, asking me +whether it was true that I despised her so much. + +In such a position a man has not the courage to insult a woman, and, +instead of answering, I set to work at once, without meeting even +with that show of resistance which sharpens the appetite. In spite +of that, dupe as I always was of a feeling truly absurd when an +intelligent man has to deal with such creatures, I gave her twenty +sequins, and I confess that it was paying dearly for very smarting +regrets. We both laughed at the stupidity of Paterno, who did not +seem to know how such challenges generally end. + +I saw the unlucky son of Sicily the next morning, and I told him +that, having found the actress very dull, I would not see her again. +Such was truly my intention, but a very important reason, which +nature took care to explain to me three days afterwards, compelled me +to keep my word through a much more serious motive than a simple +dislike for the woman. + +However, although I was deeply grieved to find myself in such a +disgraceful position, I did not think I had any right to complain. +On the contrary, I considered that my misfortune to be a just and +well-deserved punishment for having abandoned myself to a Lais, after +I had enjoyed the felicity of possessing a woman like Henriette. + +My disease was not a case within the province of empirics, and I +bethought myself of confiding in M. de is Haye who was then dining +every day with me, and made no mystery of his poverty. He placed me +in the hands of a skilful surgeon, who was at the same time a +dentist. He recognized certain symptoms which made it a necessity to +sacrifice me to the god Mercury, and that treatment, owing to the +season of the year, compelled me to keep my room for six weeks. It +was during the winter of 1749. + +While I was thus curing myself of an ugly disease, De la Haye +inoculated me with another as bad, perhaps even worse, which I should +never have thought myself susceptible of catching. This Fleming, who +left me only for one hour in the morning, to go--at least he said so- +-to church to perform his devotions, made a bigot of me! And to such +an extent, that I agreed with him that I was indeed fortunate to have +caught a disease which was the origin of the faith now taking +possession of my soul. I would thank God fervently and with the most +complete conviction for having employed Mercury to lead my mind, +until then wrapped in darkness, to the pure light of holy truth! +There is no doubt that such an extraordinary change in my reasoning +system was the result of the exhaustion brought on by the mercury. +That impure and always injurious metal had weakened my mind to such +an extent that I had become almost besotted, and I fancied that until +then my judgment had been insane. The result was that, in my newly +acquired wisdom, I took the resolution of leading a totally different +sort of life in future. De la Haye would often cry for joy when he +saw me shedding tears caused by the contrition which he had had the +wonderful cleverness to sow in my poor sickly soul. He would talk to +me of paradise and the other world, just as if he had visited them in +person, and I never laughed at him! He had accustomed me to renounce +my reason; now to renounce that divine faculty a man must no longer +be conscious of its value, he must have become an idiot. The reader +may judge of the state to which I was reduced by the following +specimen. One day, De la Haye said to me: + +"It is not known whether God created the world during the vernal +equinox or during the autumnal one." + +"Creation being granted," I replied, in spite of the mercury, "such a +question is childish, for the seasons are relative, and differ in the +different quarters of the globe." + +De la Haye reproached me with the heathenism of my ideas, told me +that I must abandon such impious reasonings.... and I gave way! + +That man had been a Jesuit. He not only, however, refused to admit +it, but he would not even suffer anyone to mention it to him. This +is how he completed his work of seduction by telling me the history +of his life. + +"After I had been educated in a good school," he said, "and had +devoted myself with some success to the arts and sciences, I was for +twenty years employed at the University of Paris. Afterwards I +served as an engineer in the army, and since that time I have +published several works anonymously, which are now in use in every +boys' school. Having given up the military service, and being poor, +I undertook and completed the education of several young men, some of +whom shine now in the world even more by their excellent conduct than +by their talents. My last pupil was the Marquis Botta. Now being +without employment I live, as you see, trusting in God's providence. +Four years ago, I made the acquaintance of Baron Bavois, from +Lausanne, son of General Bavois who commanded a regiment in the +service of the Duke of Modem, and afterwards was unfortunate enough +to make himself too conspicuous. The young baron, a Calvinist like +his father, did not like the idle life he was leading at home, and he +solicited me to undertake his education in order to fit him for a +military career. Delighted at the opportunity of cultivating his +fine natural disposition, I gave up everything to devote myself +entirely to my task. I soon discovered that, in the question of +faith, he knew himself to be in error, and that he remained a +Calvinist only out of respect to his family. When I had found out +his secret feelings on that head, I had no difficulty in proving to +him that his most important interests were involved in that question, +as his eternal salvation was at stake. Struck by the truth of my +words, he abandoned himself to my affection, and I took him to Rome, +where I presented him to the Pope, Benedict XIV., who, immediately +after the abjuration of my pupil got him a lieutenancy in the army of +the Duke of Modena. But the dear proselyte, who is only twenty-five +years of age, cannot live upon his pay of seven sequins a month, and +since his abjuration he has received nothing from his parents, who +are highly incensed at what they call his apostacy. He would find +himself compelled to go back to Lausanne, if I did not assist him. +But, alas! I am poor, and without employment, so I can only send him +the trifling sums which I can obtain from the few good Christians +with whom I am acquainted. + +"My pupil, whose heart is full of gratitude, would be very glad to +know his benefactors, but they refuse to acquaint him with their +names, and they are right, because charity, in order to be +meritorious, must not partake of any feeling of vanity. Thank God, +I have no cause for such a feeling! I am but too happy to act as a +father towards a young saint, and to have had a share, as the humble +instrument of the Almighty, in the salvation of his soul. That +handsome and good young man trusts no one but me, and writes to me +regularly twice a week. I am too discreet to communicate his letters +to you, but, if you were to read them, they would make you weep for +sympathy. It is to him that I have sent the three gold pieces which +you gave me yesterday." + +As he said the last words my converter rose, and went to the window +to dry his tears, I felt deeply moved, anal full of admiration for +the virtue of De la Haye and of his pupil, who, to save his soul, had +placed himself under the hard necessity of accepting alms. I cried +as well as the apostle, and in my dawning piety I told him that I +insisted not only upon remaining unknown to his pupil, but also upon +ignoring the amount of the sums he might take out of my purse to +forward to him, and I therefore begged that he would help himself +without rendering me any account. De la Haye embraced me warmly, +saying that, by following the precepts of the Gospel so well, I +should certainly win the kingdom of heaven. + +The mind is sure to follow the body; it is a privilege enjoyed by +matter. With an empty stomach, I became a fanatic; and the hollow +made in my brain by the mercury became the home of enthusiasm. +Without mentioning it to De la Haye, I wrote to my three friends, +Messrs. Bragadin and company, several letters full of pathos +concerning my Tartufe and his pupil, and I managed to communicate my +fanaticism to them. You are aware, dear reader, that nothing is so +catching as the plague; now, fanaticism, no matter of what nature, is +only the plague of the human mind. + +I made my friends to understand that the good of our society depended +upon the admission of these two virtuous individuals. I allowed them +to guess it, but, having myself became a Jesuit, I took care not to +say it openly. It would of course be better if such an idea appeared +to have emanated from those men, so simple, and at the same time so +truly virtuous. "It is God's will," I wrote to them (for deceit must +always take refuge under the protection of that sacred name), "that +you employ all your influence in Venice to find an honourable +position for M. de la Haye, and to promote the interests of young +M. Bavois in his profession." + +M. de Bragadin answered that De la Haye could take up his quarters +with us in his palace, and that Bavois was to write to his protector, +the Pope, entreating His Holiness to recommend him to the ambassador +of Venice, who would then forward that recommendation to the Senate, +and that Bavois could, in that way, feel sure of good employment. + +The affair of the Patriarchate of Aquileia was at that time under +discussion; the Republic of Venice was in possession of it as well as +the Emperor of Austria, who claimed the 'jus eligendi': the Pope +Benedict XIV. had been chosen as arbitrator, and as he had not yet +given his decision it was evident that the Republic would shew very +great deference to his recommendation. + +While that important affair was enlisting all our sympathies, and +while they were expecting in Venice a letter stating the effect of +the Pope's recommendation, I was the hero of a comic adventure which, +for the sake of my readers, must not pass unnoticed. + +At the beginning of April I was entirely cured of my last misfortune. +I had recovered all my usual vigour, and I accompanied my converter +to church every day, never missing a sermon. We likewise spent the +evening together at the cafe, where we generally met a great many +officers. There was among them a Provencal who amused everybody with +his boasting and with the recital of the military exploits by which +he pretended to have distinguished himself in the service of several +countries, and principally in Spain. As he was truly a source of +amusement, everybody pretended to believe him in order to keep up the +game. One day as I was staring at him, he asked me whether I knew +him. + +"By George, sir!"--I exclaimed, "know you! Why, did we not fight +side by side at the battle of Arbela?" + +At those words everybody burst out laughing, but the boaster, nothing +daunted, said, with animation, + +"Well, gentlemen, I do not see anything so very laughable in that. I +was at that battle, and therefore this gentleman might very well have +remarked me; in fact, I think I can recollect him." + +And, continuing to speak to me, he named the regiment in which we +were brother officers. Of course we embraced one another, +congratulating each other upon the pleasure we both felt in meeting +again in Parma. After that truly comic joke I left the coffee-room +in the company of my inseparable preacher. + +The next morning, as I was at breakfast with De la Haye, the boasting +Provencal entered my room without taking off his hat, and said, + +"M. d'Arbela, I have something of importance to tell you; make haste +and follow me. If you are afraid, you may take anyone you please +with you. I am good for half a dozen men." + +I left my chair, seized my pistols, and aimed at him. + +"No one," I said, with decision, "has the right to come and disturb +me in my room; be off this minute, or I blow your brains out." + +The fellow, drawing his sword, dared me to murder him, but at the +same moment De la Haye threw himself between us, stamping violently +on the floor. The landlord came up, and threatened the officer to +send for the police if he did not withdraw immediately. + +He went away, saying that I had insulted him in public, and that he +would take care that the reparation I owed him should be as public as +the insult. + +When he had gone, seeing that the affair might take a tragic turn, I +began to examine with De la Haye how it could be avoided, but we had +not long to puzzle our imagination, for in less than half an hour an +officer of the Infante of Parma presented himself, and requested me +to repair immediately to head-quarters, where M. de Bertolan, +Commander of Parma, wanted to speak to me. + +I asked De la Haye to accompany me as a witness of what I had said in +the coffee-room as well as of what had taken place in my apartment. + +I presented myself before the commander, whom I found surrounded by +several officers, and, among them, the bragging Provencal. + +M. de Bertolan, who was a witty man, smiled when he saw me; then, +with a very serious countenance, he said to me, + +"Sir, as you have made a laughing-stock of this officer in a public +place, it is but right that you should give him publicly the +satisfaction which he claims, and as commander of this city I find +myself bound in duty to ask you for that satisfaction in order to +settle the affair amicably." + +"Commander," I answered, "I do not see why a satisfaction should be +offered to this gentleman, for it is not true that I have insulted +him by turning him into ridicule. I told him that I had seen him at +the battle of Arbela, and I could not have any doubt about it when he +said that he had been present at that battle, and that he knew me +again." + +"Yes," interrupted the officer, "but I heard Rodela and not Arbela, +and everybody knows that I fought at Rodela. But you said Arbela, +and certainly with the intention of laughing at me, since that battle +has been fought more than two thousand years ago, while the battle of +Rodela in Africa took place in our time, and I was there under the +orders of the Duke de Mortemar." + +"In the first place, sir, you have no right to judge of my +intentions, but I do not dispute your having been present at Rodela, +since you say so; but in that case the tables are turned, and now I +demand a reparation from you if you dare discredit my having been at +Arbela. I certainly did not serve under the Duke de Mortemar, +because he was not there, at least to my knowledge, but I was aid-de- +camp of Parmenion, and I was wounded under his eyes. If you were to +ask me to shew you the scar, I could not satisfy you, for you must +understand that the body I had at that time does not exist any +longer, and in my present bodily envelope I am only twenty-three +years old." + +"All this seems to me sheer madness, but, at all events, I have +witnesses to prove that you have been laughing at me, for you stated +that you had seen me at that battle, and, by the powers! it is not +possible, because I was not there. At all events, I demand +satisfaction." + +"So do I, and we have equal rights, if mine are not even better than +yours, for your witnesses are likewise mine, and these gentlemen will +assert that you said that you had seen me at Rodela, and, by the +powers! it is not possible, for I was not there." + +"Well, I may have made a mistake." + +"So may I, and therefore we have no longer any claim against one +another." + +The commander, who was biting his lips to restrain his mirth, said to +him, + +"My dear sir, I do not see that you have the slightest right to +demand satisfaction, since this gentleman confesses, like you, that +he might have been mistaken." + +"But," remarked the officer, "is it credible that he was at the +battle of Arbela?" + +"This gentleman leaves you free to believe or not to believe, and he +is at liberty to assert that he was there until you can prove the +contrary. Do you wish to deny it to make him draw his sword?" + +"God forbid! I would rather consider the affair ended." + +"Well, gentlemen," said the commander, "I have but one more duty to +perform, and it is to advise you to embrace one another like two +honest men." + +We followed the advice with great pleasure. + +The next day, the Provencal, rather crestfallen, came to share my +dinner, and I gave him a friendly welcome. Thus was ended that comic +adventure, to the great satisfaction of M. de la Haye. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +I Receive Good News From Venice, to Which City I Return with De la +Haye and Bavois--My Three Friends Give Me a Warm Welcome; Their +Surprise at Finding Me a Model of Devotion--Bavois Lures +Me Back to My Former Way of Living--De la Haye a Thorough Hypocrite-- +Adventure with the Girl Marchetti--I Win a Prize in the Lottery--I +Meet Baletti--De la Haye Leaves M. de Bragadin's Palace--My +Departure for Paris + + +Whilst De la Haye was every day gaining greater influence over my +weakened mind, whilst I was every day devoutly attending mass, +sermons, and every office of the Church, I received from Venice a +letter containing the pleasant information that my affair had +followed its natural course, namely, that it was entirely forgotten; +and in another letter M. de Bragadin informed me that the minister +had written to the Venetian ambassador in Rome with instructions to +assure the Holy Father that Baron Bavois would, immediately after his +arrival in Venice, receive in the army of the Republic an appointment +which would enable him to live honourably and to gain a high position +by his talents. + +That letter overcame M. de la Haye with joy, and I completed his +happiness by telling him that nothing hindered me from going back to +my native city. + +He immediately made up his mind to go to Modena in order to explain +to his pupil how he was to act in Venice to open for himself the way +to a brilliant fortune. De la Haye depended on me in every way; he +saw my fanaticism, and he was well aware that it is a disease which +rages as long as the causes from which it has sprung are in +existence. As he was going with me to Venice, he flattered himself +that he could easily feed the fire he had lighted. Therefore he +wrote to Bavois that he would join him immediately, and two days +after he took leave of me, weeping abundantly, praising highly the +virtues of my soul, calling me his son, his dear son, and assuring me +that his great affection for me had been caused by the mark of +election which he had seen on my countenance. After that, I felt my +calling and election were sure. + +A few days after the departure of De la Haye, I left Parma in my +carriage with which I parted in Fusina, and from there I proceeded to +Venice. After an absence of a year, my three friends received me as +if I had been their guardian angel. They expressed their impatience +to welcome the two saints announced by my letters. An apartment was +ready for De la Haye in the palace of M. de Bragadin, and as state +reasons did not allow my father to receive in his own house a +foreigner who had not yet entered the service of the Republic, two +rooms had been engaged for Bavois in the neighbourhood. + +They were thoroughly amazed at the wonderful change which had taken +place in my morals. Every day attending mass, often present at the +preaching and at the other services, never shewing myself at the +casino, frequenting only a certain cafe which was the place of +meeting for all men of acknowledged piety and reserve, and always +studying when I was not in their company. When they compared my +actual mode of living with the former one, they marvelled, and they +could not sufficiently thank the eternal providence of God whose +inconceivable ways they admired. They blessed the criminal actions +which had compelled me to remain one year away from my native place. +I crowned their delight by paying all my debts without asking any +money from M. de Bragadin, who, not having given me anything for one +year, had religiously put together every month the sum he had allowed +me. I need not say how pleased the worthy friends were, when they +saw that I had entirely given up gambling. + +I had a letter from De la Haye in the beginning of May. He announced +that he was on the eve of starting with the son so dear to his heart, +and that he would soon place himself at the disposition of the +respectable men to whom I had announced him. + +Knowing the hour at which the barge arrived from Modena, we all went +to meet them, except M. de Bragadin, who was engaged at the senate. +We returned to the palace before him, and when he came back, finding +us all together, he gave his new guests the most friendly welcome. +De la Haye spoke to me of a hundred things, but I scarcely heard what +he said, so much was my attention taken up by Bavois. He was so +different to what I had fancied him to be from the impression I had +received from De la Haye, that my ideas were altogether upset. I had +to study him; for three days before I could make up my mind to like +him. I must give his portrait to my readers. + +Baron Bavois was a young man of about twenty-five, of middle size, +handsome in features, well made, fair, of an equable temper, speaking +well and with intelligence, and uttering his words with a tone of +modesty which suited him exactly. His features were regular and +pleasing, his teeth were beautiful, his hair was long and fine, +always well taken care of, and exhaling the perfume of the pomatum +with which it was dressed. That individual, who was the exact +opposite of the man that De la Haye had led me to imagine, surprised +my friends greatly, but their welcome did not in any way betray their +astonishment, for their pure and candid minds would not admit a +judgment contrary to the good opinion they had formed of his morals. +As soon as we had established De la Haye in his beautiful apartment, +I accompanied Bavois to the rooms engaged for him, where his luggage +had been sent by my orders. He found himself in very comfortable +quarters, and being received with distinction by his worthy host, who +was already greatly prejudiced in his favour, the young baron +embraced me warmly, pouring out all his gratitude, and assuring me +that he felt deeply all I had done for him without knowing him, as De +la Haye had informed him of all that had occurred. I pretended not +to understand what he was alluding to, and to change the subject of +conversation I asked him how he intended to occupy his time in Venice +until his military appointment gave him serious duties to perform. +"I trust," he answered, "that we shall enjoy ourselves in an +agreeable way, for I have no doubt that our inclinations are the +same." + +Mercury and De la Haye had so completely besotted me that I should +have found some difficulty in understanding these words, however +intelligible they were; but if I did not go any further than the +outward signification of his answer, I could not help remarking that +he had already taken the fancy of the two daughters of the house. +They were neither pretty nor ugly, but he shewed himself gracious +towards them like a man who understands his business. I had, +however, already made such great progress in my mystical education, +that I considered the compliments he addressed to the girls as mere +forms of politeness. + +For the first day, I took my young baron only to the St. Mark's +Square and to the cafe, where we remained until supper-time, as it +had been arranged that he would take his meals with us. At the +supper-table he shewed himself very witty, and M. Dandolo named an +hour for the next day, when he intended to present him to the +secretary for war. In the evening I accompanied him to his lodging, +where I found that the two young girls were delighted because the +young Swiss nobleman had no servant, and because they hoped to +convince him that he would not require one. + +The next day, a little earlier than the time appointed, I called upon +him with M. Dandolo and M. Barbaro, who were both to present him at +the war office. We found him at his toilet under the delicate hands +of the eldest girl, who was dressing his hair. His room, was +fragrant with the perfumes of his pomatums and scents. This did not +indicate a sainted man; yet my two friends did not feel scandalized, +although their astonishment was very evident, for they had not +expected that show of gallantry from a young neophyte. I was nearly +bursting into a loud laugh, when I heard M. Dandolo remark that, +unless we hurried, we would not have time to hear mass, whereupon +Bavois enquired whether it was a festival. M. Dandolo, without +passing any remark, answered negatively, and after that, mass was not +again mentioned. When Bavois was ready, I left them and went a +different way. I met them again at dinner-time, during which the +reception given to the young baron by the secretary was discussed, +and in the evening my friends introduced him to several ladies who +were much pleased with him. In less than a week he was so well known +that there was no fear of his time hanging wearily on his hands, but +that week was likewise enough to give me a perfect insight into his +nature and way of thinking. I should not have required such a long +study, if I had not at first begun on a wrong scent, or rather if my +intelligence had not been stultified by my fanaticism. Bavois was +particularly fond of women, of gambling, of every luxury, and, as he +was poor, women supplied him with the best part of his resources. As +to religious faith he had none, and as he was no hypocrite he +confessed as much to me. + +"How have you contrived," I said to him one day, "such as you are, to +deceive De la Haye?" + +"God forbid I should deceive anyone. De la Haye is perfectly well +aware of my system, and of my way of thinking on religious matters, +but, being himself very devout, he entertains a holy sympathy for my +soul, and I do not object to it. He has bestowed many kindnesses +upon me, and I feel grateful to him; my affection for him is all the +greater because he never teases me with his dogmatic lessons or with +sermons respecting my salvation, of which I have no doubt that God, +in His fatherly goodness, will take care. All this is settled +between De la Haye and me, and we live on the best of terms:" + +The best part of the joke is that, while I was studying him, Bavois, +without knowing it, restored my mind to its original state, and I was +ashamed of myself when I realized that I had been the dupe of a +Jesuit who was an arrant hypocrite, in spite of the character of +holiness which he assumed, and which he could play with such +marvellous ability. From that moment I fell again into all my former +practices. But let us return to De la Haye. + +That late Jesuit, who in his inmost heart loved nothing but his own +comfort, already advanced in years, and therefore no longer caring +for the fair sex, was exactly the sort of man to please my +simpleminded trio of friends. As he never spoke to them but of God, +of His angels, and of everlasting glory, and as he was always +accompanying them to church, they found him a delightful companion. +They longed for the time when he would discover himself, for they +imagined he was at the very least a Rosicrucian, or perhaps the +hermit of Courpegna, who had taught me the cabalistic science and +made me a present of the immortal Paralis. They felt grieved because +the oracle had forbidden them, through my cabalistic lips, ever to +mention my science in the presence of Tartufe. + +As I had foreseen, that interdiction left me to enjoy as I pleased +all the time that I would have been called upon to devote to their +devout credulity, and besides, I was naturally afraid lest De la +Haye, such as I truly believed him to be, would never lend himself to +that trifling nonsense, and would, for the sake of deserving greater +favour at their hands, endeavour to undeceive them and to take my +place in their confidence. + +I soon found out that I had acted with prudence, for in less than +three weeks the cunning fox had obtained so great an influence over +the mind of my three friends that he was foolish enough, not only to +believe that he did not want me any more to support his credit with +them, but likewise that he could supplant me whenever he chose. I +could see it clearly in his way of addressing me, as well as in the +change in his proceedings. + +He was beginning to hold with my friends frequent conversations to +which I was not summoned, and he had contrived to make them introduce +him to several families which I was not in the habit of visiting. He +assumed his grand jesuitic airs, and, although with honeyed word he +would take the liberty of censuring me because I sometimes spent a +night out, and, as he would say, "God knows where!" + +I was particularly vexed at his seeming to accuse me of leading his +pupil astray. He then would assume the tone of a man speaking +jestingly, but I was not deceived. I thought it was time to put an +end to his game, and with that intention I paid him a visit in his +bedroom. When I was seated, I said, + +"I come, as a true worshipper of the Gospel, to tell you in private +something that, another time, I would say in public." + +"What is it, my dear friend?" + +"I advise you for the future not to hurl at me the slightest taunt +respecting the life I am leading with Bavois, when we are in the +presence of my three worthy friends. I do not object to listen to +you when we are alone." + +"You are wrong in taking my innocent jests seriously." + +"Wrong or right, that does not matter. Why do you never attack your +proselyte? Be careful for the future, or I might on my side, and +only in jest like you, throw at your head some repartee which you +have every reason to fear, and thus repay you with interest." + +And bowing to him I left his room. + +A few days afterwards I spent a few hours with my friends and +Paralis, and the oracle enjoined them never to accomplish without my +advice anything that might be recommended or even insinuated by +Valentine; that was the cabalistic name of the disciple of Escobar. +I knew I could rely upon their obedience to that order. + +De la Haye soon took notice of some slight change; he became more +reserved, and Bavois, whom I informed of what I had done, gave me his +full approbation. He felt convinced, as I was, that De la Haye had +been useful to him only through weak or selfish reasons, that is, +that he would have cared little for his soul if his face had not been +handsome, and if he had not known that he would derive important +advantages from having caused his so-called conversion. + +Finding that the Venetian government was postponing his appointment +from day to day, Bavois entered the service of the French ambassador. +The decision made it necessary for him not only to cease his visits +to M. de Bragadin, but even to give up his intercourse with De la +Haye, who was the guest of that senator. + +It is one of the strictest laws of the Republic that the patricians +and their families shall not hold any intercourse with the foreign +ambassadors and their suites. But the decision taken by Bavois did +not prevent my friends speaking in his favour, and they succeeded in +obtaining employment for him, as will be seen further on. + +The husband of Christine, whom I never visited, invited me to go to +the casino which he was in the habit of frequenting with his aunt and +his wife, who had already presented him with a token of their. +mutual affection. I accepted his invitation, and I found Christine +as lovely as ever, and speaking the Venetian dialect like her +husband. I made in that casino the acquaintance of a chemist, who +inspired me with the wish to follow a course of chemistry. I went to +his house, where I found a young girl who greatly pleased me. She +was a neighbour, and came every evening to keep the chemist's +elderly wife company, and at a regular hour a servant called to take +her home. I had never made love to her but once in a trifling sort +of way, and in the presence of the old lady, but I was surprised not +to see her after that for several days, and I expressed my +astonishment. The good lady told me that very likely the girl's +cousin, an abbe, with whom she was residing, had heard of my seeing +her every evening, had become jealous, and would not allow her to +come again. + +"An abbe jealous?" + +"Why not? He never allows her to go out except on Sundays to attend +the first mass at the Church of Santa Maria Mater Domini, close by +his dwelling. He did not object to her coming here, because he knew +that we never had any visitors, and very likely he has heard through +the servant of your being here every evening." + +A great enemy to all jealous persons, and a greater friend to my +amorous fancies, I wrote to the young girl that, if she would leave +her cousin for me, I would give her a house in which she should be +the mistress, and that I would surround her with good society and +with every luxury to be found in Venice. I added that I would be in +the church on the following Sunday to receive her answer. + +I did not forget my appointment, and her answer was that the abbe +being her tyrant, she would consider herself happy to escape out of +his clutches, but that she could not make up her mind to follow me +unless I consented to marry her. She concluded her letter by saying +that, in case I entertained honest intentions towards her, I had only +to speak to her mother, Jeanne Marchetti, who resided in Lusia, a +city thirty miles distant from Venice. + +This letter piqued my curiosity, and I even imagined that she had +written it in concert with the abbe. Thinking that they wanted to +dupe me, and besides, finding the proposal of marriage ridiculous, I +determined on having my revenge. But I wanted to get to the bottom +of it, and I made up my mind to see the girl's mother. She felt +honoured by my visit, and greatly pleased when, after I had shewn her +her daughter's letter, I told her that I wished to marry her, but +that I should never think of it as long as she resided with the abbe. + +"That abbe," she said, "is a distant relative. He used to live alone +in his house in Venice, and two years ago he told me that he was in +want of a housekeeper. He asked me to let my daughter go to him in +that capacity, assuring me that in Venice she would have good +opportunities of getting married. He offered to give me a deed in +writing stating that, on the day of her marriage, he would give her +all his furniture valued at about one thousand ducats, and the +inheritance of a small estate, bringing one hundred ducats a year, +which lie possesses here. It seemed to me a good bargain, and, my +daughter being pleased with the offer, I accepted. He gave me the +deed duly drawn by a notary, and my daughter went with him. I know +that he makes a regular slave of her, but she chose to go. +Nevertheless, I need not tell you that my most ardent wish is to see +her married, for, as long as a girl is without a husband, she is too +much exposed to temptation, and the poor mother cannot rest in +peace." + +"Then come to Venice with me. You will take your daughter out of the +abbe's house, and I will make her my wife. Unless that is done I +cannot marry her, for I should dishonour myself if I received my wife +from his hands." + +"Oh, no! for he is my cousin, although only in the fourth degree, +and, what is more, he is a priest and says the mass every day." + +"You make me laugh, my good woman. Everybody knows that a priest +says the mass without depriving himself of certain trifling +enjoyments. Take your daughter with you, or give up all hope of ever +seeing her married." + +"But if I take her with me, he will not give her his furniture, and +perhaps he will sell his small estate here." + +"I undertake to look to that part of the business. I promise to take +her out of his hands, and to make her come back to you with all the +furniture, and to obtain the estate when she is my wife. If you knew +me better, you would not doubt what I say. Come to Venice, and I +assure you that you shall return here in four or five days with your +daughter." + +She read the letter which had been written to me by her daughter +again, and told me that, being a poor widow, she had not the money +necessary to pay the expenses of her journey to Venice, or of her +return to Louisa. + +"In Venice you shall not want for anything," I said; "in the mean +time, here are ten sequins." + +"Ten sequins! Then I can go with my sister-in-law?" + +"Come with anyone you like, but let us go soon so as to reach +Chiozza, where we must sleep. To-morrow we shall dine in Venice, and +I undertake to defray all expenses." + +We arrived in Venice the next day at ten o'clock, and I took the two +women to Castello, to a house the first floor of which was empty. I +left them there, and provided with the deed signed by the abbe I went +to dine with my three friends, to whom I said that I had been to +Chiozza on important business. After dinner, I called upon the +lawyer, Marco de Lesse, who told me that if the mother presented a +petition to the President of the Council of Ten, she would +immediately be invested with power to take her daughter away with all +the furniture in the house, which she could send wherever she +pleased. I instructed him to have the petition ready, saying that I +would come the next morning with the mother, who would sign it in his +presence. + +I brought the mother early in the morning, and after she had signed +the petition we went to the Boussole, where she presented it to the +President of the Council. In less than a quarter of an hour a +bailiff was ordered to repair to the house of the priest with the +mother, and to put her in possession of her daughter, and of all the +furniture, which she would immediately take away. + +The order was carried into execution to the very letter. I was with +the mother in a gondola as near as possible to the house, and I had +provided a large boat in which the sbirri stowed all the furniture +found on the premises. When it was all done, the daughter was +brought to the gondola, and she was extremely surprised to see me. +Her mother kissed her, and told her that I would be her husband the +very next day. She answered that she was delighted, and that nothing +had been left in her tyrant's house except his bed and his clothes. + +When we reached Castello, I ordered the furniture to be brought out +of the boat; we had dinner, and I told the three women that they must +go back to Lusia, where I would join them as soon as I had settled +all my affairs. I spent the afternoon gaily with my intended. She +told us that the abbe was dressing when the bailiff presented the +order of the Council of Ten, with injunctions to allow its free +execution under penalty of death; that the abbe finished his toilet, +went out to say his mass, and that everything had been done without +the slightest opposition. "I was told," she added, "that my mother +was waiting for me in the gondola, but I did not expect to find you, +and I never suspected that you were at the bottom of the whole +affair." + +"It is the first proof I give you of my love." + +These words made her smile very pleasantly. + +I took care to have a good supper and some excellent wines, and after +we had spent two hours at table in the midst of the joys of Bacchus, +I devoted four more to a pleasant tete-a-tete with my intended bride. + +The next morning, after breakfast, I had the whole of the furniture +stowed in a peotta, which I had engaged for the purpose and paid for +beforehand. I gave ten more sequins to the mother, and sent them +away all three in great delight. The affair was completed to my +honour as well as to my entire satisfaction, and I returned home. + +The case had made so much noise that my friends could not have +remained ignorant of it; the consequence was that, when they saw me, +they shewed their surprise and sorrow. De la Haye embraced me with +an air of profound grief, but it was a feigned feeling--a harlequin's +dress, which he had the talent of assuming with the greatest +facility. M. de Bragadin alone laughed heartily, saying to the +others that they did not understand the affair, and that it was the +forerunner of something great which was known only to heavenly +spirits. On my side, being ignorant of the opinion they entertained +of the matter, and certain that they were not informed of all the +circumstances, I laughed like M. de Bragadin, but said nothing. I +had nothing to fear, and I wanted to amuse myself with all that would +be said. + +We sat down to table, and M. Barbaro was the first to tell me in a +friendly manner that he hoped at least that this was not the day +after my wedding. + +"Then people say that I am married?" + +"It is said everywhere and by everybody. The members of the Council +themselves believe it, and they have good reason to believe that they +are right." + +"To be right in believing such a thing, they ought to be certain of +it, and those gentlemen have no such certainty. As they are not +infallible any more than any one, except God, I tell you that they +are mistaken. I like to perform good actions and to get pleasure for +my money, but not at the expense of my liberty: Whenever you want to +know my affairs, recollect that you can receive information about +them only from me, and public rumour is only good to amuse fools." + +"But," said M. Dandolo, "you spent the night with the person who is +represented as your wife?" + +"Quite true, but I have no account to give to anyone respecting what +I have done last night. Are you not of my opinion, M. de la Haye?" + +"I wish you would not ask my opinion, for I do not know. But I must +say that public rumour ought not to be despised. The deep affection +I have for you causes me to grieve for what the public voice says +about you." + +"How is it that those reports do not grieve M. de Bragadin, who has +certainly greater affection for me than you have?" + +"I respect you, but I have learned at my own expense that slander is +to be feared. It is said that, in order to get hold of a young girl +who was residing with her uncle--a worthy priest, you suborned a +woman who declared herself to be the girl's mother, and thus deceived +the Supreme Council, through the authority of which she obtained +possession of the girl for you. The bailiff sent by the Council +swears that you were in the gondola with the false mother when the +young girl joined her. It is said that the deed, in virtue of which +you caused the worthy ecclesiastic's furniture to be carried off, is +false, and you are blamed for having made the highest body of the +State a stepping-stone to crime. In fine, it is said that, even if +you have married the girl, and no doubt of it is entertained, the +members of the Council will not be silent as to the fraudulent means +you have had recourse to in order to carry out your intentions +successfully." + +"That is a very long speech," I said to him, coldly, "but learn from +me that a wise man who has heard a criminal accusation related with +so many absurd particulars ceases to be wise when he makes himself +the echo of what he has heard, for if the accusation should turn out +to be a calumny, he would himself become the accomplice of the +slanderer." + +After that sentence, which brought the blood to the face of the +Jesuit, but which my friends thought very wise, I entreated him, in a +meaning voice, to spare his anxiety about me, and to be quite certain +that I knew the laws of honour, and that I had judgment enough to +take care of myself, and to let foul tongues say what they liked +about me, just as I did when I heard them speak ill of him. + +The adventure was the talk of the city for five or six days, after +which it was soon forgotten. + +But three months having elapsed without my having paid any visit to +Lusia, or having answered the letters written to me by the damigella +Marchetti, and without sending her the money she claimed of me, she +made up her mind to take certain proceedings which might have had +serious consequences, although they had none whatever in the end. + +One day, Ignacio, the bailiff of the dreaded tribunal of the State +inquisitors, presented himself as I was sitting at table with my +friends, De la Haye, and two other guests. He informed me that the +Cavaliere Cantarini dal Zoffo wished to see me, and would wait for me +the next morning at such an hour at the Madonna de l'Orto. I rose +from the table and answered, with a bow, that I would not fail to +obey the wishes of his excellency. The bailiff then left us. + +I could not possibly guess what such a high dignitary of State could +want with my humble person, yet the message made us rather anxious, +for Cantarini dal Zoffo was one of the Inquisitors, that is to say, a +bird of very ill omen. M. de Bragadin, who had been Inquisitor while +he was Councillor, and therefore knew the habits of the tribunal, +told me that I had nothing to fear. + +"Ignacio was dressed in private clothes," he added, "and therefore he +did not come as the official messenger of the dread tribunal. +M. Cantarini wishes to speak to you only as a private citizen, as he +sends you word to call at his palace and not at the court-house. He +is an elderly man, strict but just, to whom you must speak frankly +and without equivocating, otherwise you would make matters worse." + +I was pleased with M. de Bragadin's advice, which was of great use to +me. I called at the appointed time. + +I was immediately announced, and I had not long to wait. I entered +the room, and his excellency, seated at a table, examined me from +head to foot for one minute without speaking to me; he then rang the +bell, and ordered his servant to introduce the two ladies who were +waiting in the next room. I guessed at once what was the matter, and +felt no surprise when I saw the woman Marchetti and her daughter. +His excellency asked me if I knew them. + +"I must know them, monsignor, as one of them will become my wife when +she has convinced me by her good conduct that she is worthy of that +honour." + +"Her conduct is good, she lives with her mother at Lusia; you have +deceived her. Why do you postpone your marriage with her? Why do +you not visit her? You never answer her letters, and you let her be +in want." + +"I cannot marry her, your excellency, before I have enough to support +her. That will come in three or four years, thanks to a situation +which M. de Bragadin, my only protector, promises to obtain for me. +Until then she must live honestly, and support herself by working. +I will only marry her when I am convinced of her honesty, and +particularly when I am certain that she has given up all intercourse +with the abbe, her cousin in the fourth degree. I do not visit her +because my confessor and my conscience forbid me to go to her house." + +"She wishes you to give her a legal promise of marriage, and +sustentation." + +"Monsignor, I am under no obligation to give her a promise of +marriage, and having no means whatever I cannot support her. She +must earn her own living with her mother" + +"When she lived with her cousin," said her mother, "she never wanted +anything, and she shall go back to him." + +"If she returns to his house I shall not take the trouble of taking +her out of his hands a second time, and your excellency will then see +that I was right to defer my marriage with her until I was convinced +of her honesty." + +The judge told me that my presence, was no longer necessary. It was +the end of the affair, and I never heard any more about it. The +recital of the dialogue greatly amused my friends. + +At the beginning of the Carnival of 1750 I won a prize of three +thousand ducats at the lottery. Fortune made me that present when I +did not require it, for I had held the bank during the autumn, and +had won. It was at a casino where no nobleman dared to present +himself, because one of the partners was an officer in the service of +the Duke de Montalegre, the Spanish Ambassador. The citizens of +Venice felt ill at ease with the patricians, and that is always the +case under an aristocratic government, because equality exists in +reality only between the members of such a government. + +As I intended to take a trip to Paris, I placed one thousand sequins +in M. de Bragadin's hands, and with that project in view I had the +courage to pass the carnival without risking my money at the faro- +table. I had taken a share of one-fourth in the bank of an honest +patrician, and early in Lent he handed me a large sum. + +Towards mid-Lent my friend Baletti returned from Mantua to Venice. +He was engaged at the St. Moses Theatre as ballet-master during the +Fair of the Assumption. He was with Marina, but they did not live +together. She made the conquest of an English Jew, called Mendez, +who spent a great deal of money for her. That Jew gave me good news +of Therese, whom he had known in Naples, and in whose hands he had +left some of his spoils. The information pleased me, and I was very +glad to have been prevented by Henriette from joining Therese in +Naples, as I had intended, for I should certainly have fallen in love +with her again, and God knows what the consequences might have been. + +It was at that time that Bavois was appointed captain in the service +of the Republic; he rose rapidly in his profession, as I shall +mention hereafter. + +De la Haye undertook the education of a young nobleman called Felix +Calvi, and a short time afterwards he accompanied him to Poland. I +met him again in Vienna three years later. + +I was making my preparations to go to the Fair of Reggio, then to +Turin, where the whole of Italy was congregating for the marriage of +the Duke of Savoy with a princess of Spain, daughter of Philip V., +and lastly to Paris, where, Madame la Dauphine being pregnant, +magnificent preparations were made in the expectation of the birth of +a prince. Baletti was likewise on the point of undertaking the same +journey. He was recalled by his parents, who were dramatic artists: +his mother was the celebrated Silvia. + +Baletti was engaged at the Italian Theatre in Paris as dancer and +first gentleman. I could not choose a companion more to my taste, +more agreeable, or in a better position to procure me numerous +advantageous acquaintances in Paris. + +I bade farewell to my three excellent friends, promising to return +within two years. + +I left my brother Francois in the studio of Simonetti, the painter of +battle pieces, known as the Parmesan. I gave him a promise to think +of him in Paris, where, at that time particularly, great talent was +always certain of a high fortune. My readers will see how I kept my +word. + +I likewise left in Venice my brother Jean, who had returned to that +city after having travelled through Italy with Guarienti. He was on +the point of going to Rome, where he remained fourteen years in the +studio of Raphael Mengs. He left Rome for Dresden in 1764, where he +died in the year 1795. + +Baletti started before me, and I left Venice, to meet him in Reggio, +on the 1st of June, 1750. I was well fitted out, well supplied with +money, and sure not to want for any, if I led a proper life. We +shall soon see, dear reader, what judgment you will pass on my +conduct, or rather I shall not see it, for I know that when you are +able to judge, I shall no longer care for your sentence. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +I Stop at Ferrara, Where I Have a Comic Adventure--My Arrival in +Paris + + +Precisely at twelve o'clock the peotta landed me at Ponte di Lago +Oscuro, and I immediately took a post-chaise to reach Ferrara in time +for dinner. I put up at St. Mark's Hotel. I was following the +waiter up the stairs, when a joyful uproar, which suddenly burst from +a room the door of which was open, made me curious to ascertain the +cause of so much mirth. I peeped into the room, and saw some twelve +persons, men and women, seated round a well-supplied table. It was a +very natural thing, and I was moving on, when I was stopped by the +exclamation, "Ah, here he is!" uttered by the pretty voice of a +woman, and at the same moment, the speaker, leaving the table, came +to me with open arms and embraced me, saying, + +"Quick, quick, a seat for him near me; take his luggage to his room." + +A young man came up, and she said to him, "Well, I told you he would +arrive to-day?" + +She made me sit near her at the table, after I had been saluted by +all the guests who had risen to do me honour. + +"My dear cousin," she said, addressing me, "you must be hungry;" and +as she spoke she squeezed my foot under the table. "Here is my +intended husband whom I beg to introduce to you, as well as my father +and mother-in-law. The other guests round the table are friends of +the family. But, my dear cousin, tell me why my mother has not come +with you?" + +At last I had to open my lips! + +"Your mother, my dear cousin, will be here in three or four days, at +the latest." + +I thought that my newly-found cousin was unknown to me, but when I +looked at her with more attention, I fancied I recollected her +features. She was the Catinella, a dancer of reputation, but I had +never spoken to her before. I easily guessed that she was giving me +an impromptu part in a play of her own composition, and I was to be a +'deux ex machina'. Whatever is singular and unexpected has always +attracted me, and as my cousin was pretty, I lent myself most +willingly to the joke, entertaining no doubt that she would reward me +in an agreeable manner. All I had to do was to play my part well, +but without implicating myself. Therefore, pretending to be very +hungry, I gave her the opportunity of speaking and of informing me by +hints of what I had to know, in order not to make blunders. +Understanding the reason of my reserve, she afforded me the proof of +her quick intelligence by saying sometimes to one person, sometimes +to the other, everything it was necessary for me to know. Thus I +learnt that the wedding could not take place until the arrival of her +mother, who was to bring the wardrobe and the diamonds of my cousin. +I was the precentor going to Turin to compose the music of the opera +which was to be represented at the marriage of the Duke of Savoy. +This last discovery pleased me greatly, because I saw that I should +have no difficulty in taking my departure the next morning, and I +began to enjoy the part I had to play. Yet, if I had not reckoned +upon the reward, I might very well have informed the honourable +company that my false cousin was mad, but, although Catinella was +very near thirty, she was very pretty and celebrated for her +intrigues; that was enough, and she could turn me round her little +finger. + +The future mother-in-law was seated opposite, and to do me honour she +filled a glass and offered it to me. Already identified with my part +in the comedy, I put forth my hand to take the glass, but seeing that +my hand was somewhat bent, she said to me, + +"What is the matter with your hand, sir?" + +"Nothing serious, madam; only a slight sprain which a little rest +will soon cure." + +At these words, Catinella, laughing heartily, said that she regretted +the accident because it would deprive her friends of the pleasure +they would have enjoyed in hearing me play the harpsichord. + +"I am glad to find it a laughing matter, cousin." + +"I laugh, because it reminds me of a sprained ankle which I once +feigned to have in order not to dance." + +After coffee, the mother-in-law, who evidently understood what was +proper, said that most likely my cousin wanted to talk with me on +family matters, and that we ought to be left alone. + +Every one of the guests left the room. + +As soon as I was alone with her in my room, which was next to her own +she threw herself on a sofa, and gave way to a most immoderate fit of +laughter. + +"Although I only know you by name," she said to me, "I have entire +confidence in you, but you will do well to go away to-morrow. I have +been here for two months without any money. I have nothing but a few +dresses and some linen, which I should have been compelled to sell to +defray my expenses if I had not been lucky enough to inspire the son +of the landlord with the deepest love. I have flattered his passion +by promising to become his wife, and to bring him as a marriage +portion twenty thousand crowns' worth of diamonds which I am supposed +to have in Venice, and which my mother is expected to bring with her. +But my mother has nothing and knows nothing of the affair, therefore +she is not likely to leave Venice." + +"But, tell me, lovely madcap, what will be the end of this +extravaganza? I am afraid it will take a tragic turn at the last." + +"You are mistaken; it will remain a comedy, and a very amusing one, +too. I am expecting every hour the arrival of Count Holstein, +brother of the Elector of Mainz. He has written to me from +Frankfort; he has left that city, and must by this time have reached +Venice. He will take me to the Fair of Reggio, and if my intended +takes it into his head to be angry, the count will thrash him and pay +my bill, but I am determined that he shall be neither thrashed nor +paid. As I go away, I have only to whisper in his ear that I will +certainly return, and it will be all right. I know my promise to +become his wife as soon as I come back will make him happy." + +"That's all very well! You are as witty as a cousin of Satan, but I +shall not wait your return to marry you; our wedding must take place +at once." + +"What folly! Well, wait until this evening." + +"Not a bit of it, for I can almost fancy I hear the count's carriage. +If he should not arrive, we can continue the sport during the night." + +"Do you love me?" + +"To distraction! but what does it matter? However, your excellent +comedy renders you worthy of adoration. Now, suppose we do not waste +our time." + +"You are right: it is an episode, and all the more agreeable for +being impromptu." + +I can well recollect that I found it a delightful episode. Towards +evening all the family joined us again, a walk was proposed, and we +were on the point of going out, when a carriage drawn by six post- +horses noisily entered the yard. Catinella looked through the +window, and desired to be left alone, saying that it was a prince who +had come to see her. Everybody went away, she pushed me into my room +and locked me in. I went to the window, and saw a nobleman four +times as big as myself getting out of the carriage. He came +upstairs, entered the room of the intended bride, and all that was +left to me was the consolation of having seized fortune by the +forelock, the pleasure of hearing their conversation, and a +convenient view, through a crevice in the partition, of what +Catinella contrived to do with that heavy lump of flesh. But at last +the stupid amusement wearied me, for it lasted five hours, which were +employed in amorous caresses, in packing Catinella's rags, in loading +them on the carriage, in taking supper, and in drinking numerous +bumpers of Rhenish wine. At midnight the count left the hotel, +carrying away with him the beloved mistress of the landlord's son. + +No one during those long hours had come to my room, and I had not +called. I was afraid of being discovered, and I did not know how far +the German prince would have been pleased if he had found out that he +had an indiscreet witness of the heavy and powerless demonstrations +of his tenderness, which were a credit to neither of the actors, and +which supplied me with ample food for thoughts upon the miseries of +mankind. + +After the departure of the heroine, catching through the crevice a +glimpse of the abandoned lover, I called out to him to unlock my +door. The poor silly fellow told me piteously that, Catinella having +taken the key with her, it would be necessary to break the door open. +I begged him to have it done at once, because I was hungry. As soon +as I was out of my prison I had my supper, and the unfortunate lover +kept me company. He told me that Catinella had found a moment to +promise him that she would return within six weeks, that she was +shedding tears in giving him that assurance, and that she had kissed +him with great tenderness. + +"Has the prince paid her expenses?" + +"Not at all. We would not have allowed him to do it, even if he had +offered. My future wife would have felt offended, for you can have +no idea of the delicacy of her feelings." + +"What does your father say of her departure?" + +"My father always sees the worst side of everything; he says that she +will never come back, and my mother shares his opinion rather than +mine. But you, signor maestro, what do you think?" + +"That if she has promised to return, she will be sure to keep her +word." + +"Of course; for if she did not mean to come back, she would not have +given me her promise." + +"Precisely; I call that a good argument." + +I had for my supper what was left of the meal prepared by the count's +cook, and I drank a bottle of excellent Rhenish wine which Catinella +had juggled away to treat her intended husband, and which the worthy +fellow thought could not have a better destination than to treat his +future cousin. After supper I took post-horses and continued my +journey, assuring the unhappy, forlorn lover that I would do all I +could to persuade my cousin to come back very soon. I wanted to pay +my bill, but he refused to receive any money. I reached Bologna a +few minutes after Catinella, and put up at the same hotel, where I +found an opportunity of telling her all her lover had said. I +arrived in Reggio before her, but I could not speak to her in that +city, for she was always in the company of her potent and impotent +lord. After the fair, during which nothing of importance occurred to +me, I left Reggio with my friend Baletti and we proceeded to Turin, +which I wanted to see, for the first time I had gone to that city +with Henriette I had stopped only long enough to change horses. + +I found everything beautiful in Turin, the city, the court, the +theatre, and the women, including the Duchess of Savoy, but I could +not help laughing when I was told that the police of the city was +very efficient, for the streets were full of beggars. That police, +however, was the special care of the king, who was very intelligent; +if we are to believe history, but I confess that I laughed when I saw +the ridiculous face of that sovereign. + +I had never seen a king before in my life, and a foolish idea made me +suppose that a king must be preeminent--a very rare being--by his +beauty and the majesty of his appearance, and in everything superior +to the rest of men. For a young Republican endowed with reason, my +idea was not, after all, so very foolish, but I very soon got rid of +it when I saw that King of Sardinia, ugly, hump-backed, morose and +vulgar even in his manners. I then realized that it was possible to +be a king without being entirely a man. + +I saw L'Astrua and Gafarello, those two magnificent singers on the +stage, and I admired the dancing of La Geofroi, who married at that +time a worthy dancer named Bodin. + +During my stay in Turin, no amorous fancy disturbed the peace of my +soul, except an accident which happened to me with the daughter of my +washerwoman, and which increased my knowledge in physics in a +singular manner. That girl was very pretty, and, without being what +might be called in love with her, I wished to obtain her favours. +Piqued at my not being able to obtain an appointment from her, I +contrived one day to catch her at the bottom of a back staircase by +which she used to come to my room, and, I must confess, with the +intention of using a little violence, if necessary. + +Having concealed myself for that purpose at the time I expected her, +I got hold of her by surprise, and, half by persuasion, half by the +rapidity of my attack, she was brought to a right position, and I +lost no time in engaging in action. But at the first movement of the +connection a loud explosion somewhat cooled my ardour, the more so +that the young girl covered her face with her hands as if she wished +to hide her shame. However, encouraging her with a loving kiss, I +began again. But, a report, louder even than the first, strikes at +the same moment my ear and my nose. I continue; a third, a fourth +report, and, to make a long matter short, each movement gives an +explosion with as much regularity as a conductor making the time for +a piece of music! + +This extraordinary phenomenon, the confusion of the poor girl, our +position--everything, in fact, struck me as so comical, that I burst +into the most immoderate laughter, which compelled me to give up the +undertaking. Ashamed and confused, the young girl ran away, and I +did nothing to hinder her. After that she never had the courage to +present herself before me. I remained seated on the stairs for a +quarter of an hour after she had left me, amused at the funny +character of a scene which even now excites my mirth. I suppose that +the young girl was indebted for her virtue to that singular disease, +and most likely, if it were common to all the fair sex, there would +be fewer gallant women, unless we had different organs; for to pay +for one moment of enjoyment at the expense both of the hearing and of +the smell is to give too high a price. + +Baletti, being in a hurry to reach Paris, where great preparations +were being made for the birth of a Duke of Burgundy--for the duchess +was near the time of her delivery--easily persuaded me to shorten my +stay in Turin. We therefore left that city, and in five days we +arrived at Lyons, where I stayed about a week. + +Lyons is a very fine city in which at that time there were scarcely +three or four noble houses opened to strangers; but, in compensation, +there were more than a hundred hospitable ones belonging to +merchants, manufacturers, and commission agents, amongst whom was to +be found an excellent society remarkable for easy manners, +politeness, frankness, and good style, without the absurd pride to be +met with amongst the nobility in the provinces, with very few +honourable exceptions. It is true that the standard of good manners +is below that of Paris, but one soon gets accustomed to it. The +wealth of Lyons arises from good taste and low prices, and Fashion is +the goddess to whom that city owes its prosperity. Fashion alters +every year, and the stuff, to which the fashion of the day gives a +value equal, say to thirty, is the next year reduced to fifteen or +twenty, and then it is sent to foreign countries where it is bought +up as a novelty. + +The manufacturers of Lyons give high salaries to designers of talent; +in that lies the secret of their success. Low prices come from +Competition--a fruitful source of wealth, and a daughter of Liberty. +Therefore, a government wishing to establish on a firm basis the +prosperity of trade must give commerce full liberty; only being +careful to prevent the frauds which private interests, often wrongly +understood, might invent at the expense of public and general +interests. In fact, the government must hold the scales, and allow +the citizens to load them as they please. + +In Lyons I met the most famous courtezan of Venice. It was generally +admitted that her equal had never been seen. Her name was Ancilla. +Every man who saw her coveted her, and she was so kindly disposed +that she could not refuse her favours to anyone; for if all men loved +her one after the other, she returned the compliment by loving them +all at once, and with her pecuniary advantages were only a very +secondary consideration. + +Venice has always been blessed with courtezans more celebrated by +their beauty than their wit. Those who were most famous in my +younger days were Ancilla and another called Spina, both the +daughters of gondoliers, and both killed very young by the excesses +of a profession which, in their eyes, was a noble one. At the age of +twenty-two, Ancilla turned a dancer and Spina became a singer. +Campioni, a celebrated Venetian dancer, imparted to the lovely +Ancilla all the graces and the talents of which her physical +perfections were susceptible, and married her. Spina had for her +master a castrato who succeeded in making of her only a very ordinary +singer, and in the absence of talent she was compelled, in order to +get a living, to make the most of the beauty she had received from +nature. + +I shall have occasion to speak again of Ancilla before her death. +She was then in Lyons with her husband; they had just returned from +England, where they had been greatly applauded at the Haymarket +Theatre. She had stopped in Lyons only for her pleasure, and, the +moment she shewed herself, she had at her feet the most brilliant +young men of the town, who were the slaves of her slightest caprice. +Every day parties of pleasure, every evening magnificent suppers, and +every night a great faro bank. The banker at the gaming table was a +certain Don Joseph Marratti, the same man whom I had known in the +Spanish army under the name of Don Pepe il Cadetto, and a few years +afterwards assumed the name of Afflisio, and came to such a bad end. +That faro bank won in a few days three hundred thousand francs. In a +capital that would not have been considered a large sum, but in a +commercial and industrial city like Lyons it raised the alarm amongst +the merchants, and the Ultramontanes thought of taking their leave. + +It was in Lyons that a respectable individual, whose acquaintance I +made at the house of M. de Rochebaron, obtained for me the favour of +being initiated in the sublime trifles of Freemasonry. I arrived in +Paris a simple apprentice; a few months after my arrival I became +companion and master; the last is certainly the highest degree in +Freemasonry, for all the other degrees which I took afterwards are +only pleasing inventions, which, although symbolical, add nothing to +the dignity of master. + +No one in this world can obtain a knowledge of everything, but every +man who feels himself endowed with faculties, and can realize the +extent of his moral strength, should endeavour to obtain the greatest +possible amount of knowledge. A well-born young man who wishes to +travel and know not only the world, but also what is called good +society, who does not want to find himself, under certain +circumstances, inferior to his equals, and excluded from +participating in all their pleasures, must get himself initiated in +what is called Freemasonry, even if it is only to know superficially +what Freemasonry is. It is a charitable institution, which, at +certain times and in certain places, may have been a pretext for +criminal underplots got up for the overthrow of public order, but is +there anything under heaven that has not been abused? Have we not +seen the Jesuits, under the cloak of our holy religion, thrust into +the parricidal hand of blind enthusiasts the dagger with which kings +were to be assassinated! All men of importance, I mean those whose +social existence is marked by intelligence and merit, by learning or +by wealth, can be (and many of them are) Freemasons: is it possible +to suppose that such meetings, in which the initiated, making it a +law never to speak, 'intra muros', either of politics, or of +religions, or of governments, converse only concerning emblems which +are either moral or trifling; is it possible to suppose, I repeat, +that those meetings, in which the governments may have their own +creatures, can offer dangers sufficiently serious to warrant the +proscriptions of kings or the excommunications of Popes? + +In reality such proceedings miss the end for which they are +undertaken, and the Pope, in spite of his infallibility, will not +prevent his persecutions from giving Freemasonry an importance which +it would perhaps have never obtained if it had been left alone. +Mystery is the essence of man's nature, and whatever presents itself +to mankind under a mysterious appearance will always excite curiosity +and be sought, even when men are satisfied that the veil covers +nothing but a cypher. + +Upon the whole, I would advise all well-born young men, who intend to +travel, to become Freemasons; but I would likewise advise them to be +careful in selecting a lodge, because, although bad company cannot +have any influence while inside of the lodge, the candidate must +guard against bad acquaintances. + +Those who become Freemasons only for the sake of finding out the +secret of the order, run a very great risk of growing old under the +trowel without ever realizing their purpose. Yet there is a secret, +but it is so inviolable that it has never been confided or whispered +to anyone. Those who stop at the outward crust of things imagine +that the secret consists in words, in signs, or that the main point +of it is to be found only in reaching the highest degree. This is a +mistaken view: the man who guesses the secret of Freemasonry, and to +know it you must guess it, reaches that point only through long +attendance in the lodges, through deep thinking, comparison, and +deduction. He would not trust that secret to his best friend in +Freemasonry, because he is aware that if his friend has not found it +out, he could not make any use of it after it had been whispered in +his ear. No, he keeps his peace, and the secret remains a secret. + +Everything done in a lodge must be secret; but those who have +unscrupulously revealed what is done in the lodge, have been unable +to reveal that which is essential; they had no knowledge of it, and +had they known it, they certainly would not have unveiled the mystery +of the ceremonies. + +The impression felt in our days by the non-initiated is of the same +nature as that felt in former times by those who were not initiated +in the mysteries enacted at Eleusis in honour of Ceres. But the +mysteries of Eleusis interested the whole of Greece, and whoever had +attained some eminence in the society of those days had an ardent +wish to take a part in those mysterious ceremonies, while +Freemasonry, in the midst of many men of the highest merit, reckons a +crowd of scoundrels whom no society ought to acknowledge, because +they are the refuse of mankind as far as morality is concerned. + +In the mysteries of Ceres, an inscrutable silence was long kept, +owing to the veneration in which they were held. Besides, what was +there in them that could be revealed? The three words which the +hierophant said to the initiated? But what would that revelation +have come to? Only to dishonour the indiscreet initiate, for they +were barbarous words unknown to the vulgar. I have read somewhere +that the three sacred words of the mysteries of Eleusis meant: Watch, +and do no evil. The sacred words and the secrets of the various +masonic degrees are about as criminal. + +The initiation in the mysteries of Eleusis lasted nine days. The +ceremonies were very imposing, and the company of the highest. +Plutarch informs us that Alcibiades was sentenced to death and his +property confiscated, because he had dared to turn the mysteries into +ridicule in his house. He was even sentenced to be cursed by the +priests and priestesses, but the curse was not pronounced because one +of the priestesses opposed it, saying: + +"I am a priestess to bless and not to curse!" + +Sublime words! Lessons of wisdom and of morality which the Pope +despises, but which the Gospel teaches and which the Saviour +prescribes. + +In our days nothing is important, and nothing is sacred, for our +cosmopolitan philosophers. + +Botarelli publishes in a pamphlet all the ceremonies of the +Freemasons, and the only sentence passed on him is: + +"He is a scoundrel. We knew that before!" + +A prince in Naples, and M. Hamilton in his own house, perform the +miracle of St. Januarius; they are, most likely, very merry over +their performance, and many more with them. Yet the king wears on +his royal breast a star with the following device around the image of +St. Januarius: 'In sanguine foedus'. In our days everything is +inconsistent, and nothing has any meaning. Yet it is right to go +ahead, for to stop on the road would be to go from bad to worse. + +We left Lyons in the public diligence, and were five days on our road +to Paris. Baletti had given notice of his departure to his family; +they therefore knew when to expect him. We were eight in the coach +and our seats were very uncomfortable, for it was a large oval in +shape, so that no one had a corner. If that vehicle had been built +in a country where equality was a principle hallowed by the laws, it +would not have been a bad illustration. I thought it was absurd, but +I was in a foreign country, and I said nothing. Besides, being an +Italian, would it have been right for me not to admire everything +which was French, and particularly in France?--Example, an oval +diligence: I respected the fashion, but I found it detestable, and +the singular motion of that vehicle had the same effect upon me as +the rolling of a ship in a heavy sea. Yet it was well hung, but the +worst jolting would have disturbed me less. + +As the diligence undulates in the rapidity of its pace, it has been +called a gondola, but I was a judge of gondolas, and I thought that +there was no family likeness between the coach and the Venetian boats +which, with two hearty rowers, glide along so swiftly and smoothly. +The effect of the movement was that I had to throw up whatever was on +my stomach. My travelling companions thought me bad company, but +they did not say so. I was in France and among Frenchmen, who know +what politeness is. They only remarked that very likely I had eaten +too much at my supper, and a Parisian abbe, in order to excuse me, +observed that my stomach was weak. A discussion arose. + +"Gentlemen," I said, in my vexation, and rather angrily, "you are all +wrong, for my stomach is excellent, and I have not had any supper." + +Thereupon an elderly man told me, with a voice full of sweetness, +that I ought not to say that the gentlemen were wrong, though I might +say that they were not right, thus imitating Cicero, who, instead of +declaring to the Romans that Catilina and the other conspirators were +dead, only said that they had lived. + +"Is it not the same thing?" + +"I beg your pardon, sir, one way of speaking is polite, the other is +not." And after treating me to a long dissection on politeness, he +concluded by saying, with a smile, "I suppose you are an Italian?" + +"Yes, I am, but would you oblige me by telling me how you have found +it out?" + +"Oh! I guessed it from the attention with which you have listened to +my long prattle." + +Everybody laughed, and, I, much pleased with his eccentricity, began +to coax him. He was the tutor of a young boy of twelve or thirteen +years who was seated near him. I made him give me during the journey +lessons in French politeness, and when we parted he took me apart in +a friendly manner, saying that he wished to make me a small present. + +"What is it?" + +"You must abandon, and, if I may say so, forget, the particle 'non', +which you use frequently at random. 'Non' is not a French word; +instead of that unpleasant monosyllable, say, 'Pardon'. 'Non' is +equal to giving the lie: never say it, or prepare yourself to give +and to receive sword-stabs every moment." + +"I thank you, monsieur, your present is very precious, and I promise +you never to say non again." + +During the first fortnight of my stay in Paris, it seemed to me that +I had become the most faulty man alive, for I never ceased begging +pardon. I even thought, one evening at the theatre, that I should +have a quarrel for having begged somebody's pardon in the wrong +place. A young fop, coming to the pit, trod on my foot, and I +hastened to say, + +"Your pardon, sir." + +"Sir, pardon me yourself." + +"No, yourself." + +"Yourself!" + +"Well, sir, let us pardon and embrace one another!" The embrace put a +stop to the discussion. + +One day during the journey, having fallen asleep from fatigue in the +inconvenient gondola, someone pushed my arm. + +"Ah, sir! look at that mansion!" + +"I see it; what of it?" + +"Ah! I pray you, do you not find it...." + +"I find nothing particular; and you?" + +"Nothing wonderful, if it were not situated at a distance of forty +leagues from Paris. But here! Ah! would my 'badauds' of Parisians +believe that such a beautiful mansion can be found forty leagues +distant from the metropolis? How ignorant a man is when he has never +travelled!" + +"You are quite right." + +That man was a Parisian and a 'badaud' to the backbone, like a Gaul +in the days of Caesar. + +But if the Parisians are lounging about from morning till night, +enjoying everything around them, a foreigner like myself ought to +have been a greater 'badaud' than they! The difference between us was +that, being accustomed to see things such as they are, I was +astonished at seeing them often covered with a mask which changed +their nature, while their surprise often arose from their suspecting +what the mask concealed. + +What delighted me, on my arrival in Paris, was the magnificent road +made by Louis XV., the cleanliness of the hotels, the excellent fare +they give, the quickness of the service, the excellent beds, the +modest appearance of the attendant, who generally is the most +accomplished girl of the house, and whose decency, modest manners, +and neatness, inspire the most shameless libertine with respect. +Where is the Italian who is pleased with the effrontery and the +insolence of the hotel-waiters in Italy? In my days, people did not +know in France what it was to overcharge; it was truly the home of +foreigners. True, they had the unpleasantness of often witnessing +acts of odious despotism, 'lettres de cachet', etc.; it was the +despotism of a king. Since that time the French have the despotism +of the people. Is it less obnoxious? + +We dined at Fontainebleau, a name derived from Fontaine-belle-eau; +and when we were only two leagues from Paris we saw a berlin +advancing towards us. As it came near the diligence, my friend +Baletti called out to the postillions to stop. In the berlin was his +mother, who offered me the welcome given to an expected friend. His +mother was the celebrated actress Silvia, and when I had been +introduced to her she said to me; + +"I hope, sir, that my son's friend will accept a share of our family +supper this evening." + +I accepted gratefully, sat down again in the gondola, Baletti got +into the berlin with his mother, and we continued our journey. + +On reaching Paris, I found a servant of Silvia's waiting for me with +a coach; he accompanied me to my lodging to leave my luggage, and we +repaired to Baletti's house, which was only fifty yards distant from +my dwelling. + +Baletti presented me to his father, who was known under the name of +Mario. Silvia and Mario were the stage names assumed by M. and +Madame Baletti, and at that time it was the custom in France to call +the Italian actors by the names they had on the stage. 'Bon jour', +Monsieur Arlequin; 'bon jour', Monsieur Pantalon: such was the manner +in which the French used to address the actors who personified those +characters on the stage. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +My Apprenticeship in Paris--Portraits--Oddities--All Sorts of Things + + +To celebrate the arrival of her son, Silvia gave a splendid supper to +which she had invited all her relatives, and it was a good +opportunity for me to make their acquaintance. Baletti's father, who +had just recovered from a long illness, was not with us, but we had +his father's sister, who was older than Mario. She was known, under +her theatrical name of Flaminia, in the literary world by several +translations, but I had a great wish to make her acquaintance less on +that account than in consequence of the story, known throughout +Italy, of the stay that three literary men of great fame had made in +Paris. Those three literati were the Marquis Maffei, the Abbe Conti, +and Pierre Jacques Martelli, who became enemies, according to public +rumour, owing to the belief entertained by each of them that he +possessed the favours of the actress, and, being men of learning, +they fought with the pen. Martelli composed a satire against Maffei, +in which he designated him by the anagram of Femia. + +I had been announced to Flaminia as a candidate for literary fame, +and she thought she honoured me by addressing me at all, but she was +wrong, for she displeased me greatly by her face, her manners, her +style, even by the sound of her voice. Without saying it positively, +she made me understand that, being herself an illustrious member of +the republic of letters, she was well aware that she was speaking to +an insect. She seemed as if she wanted to dictate to everybody +around her, and she very likely thought that she had the right to do +so at the age of sixty, particularly towards a young novice only +twenty-five years old, who had not yet contributed anything to the +literary treasury. In order to please her, I spoke to her of the +Abbe Conti, and I had occasion to quote two lines of that profound +writer. Madam corrected me with a patronizing air for my +pronounciation of the word 'scevra', which means divided, saying that +it ought to be pronounced 'sceura', and she added that I ought to be +very glad to have learned so much on the first day of my arrival in +Paris, telling me that it would be an important day in my life. + +"Madam, I came here to learn and not to unlearn. You will kindly +allow me to tell you that the pronunciation of that word 'scevra' +with a v, and not 'sceura' with a u, because it is a contraction of +'sceverra'." + +"It remains to be seen which of us is wrong." + +"You, madam, according to Ariosto, who makes 'scevra' rhyme with +'persevra', and the rhyme would be false with 'sceura', which is not +an Italian word." + +She would have kept up the discussion, but her husband, a man eighty +years of age, told her that she was wrong. She held her tongue, but +from that time she told everybody that I was an impostor. + +Her husband, Louis Riccoboni, better known as Lelio, was the same who +had brought the Italian company to Paris in 1716, and placed it at +the service of the regent: he was a man of great merit. He had been +very handsome, and justly enjoyed the esteem of the public, in +consequence not only of his talent but also of the purity of his +life. + +During supper my principal occupation was to study Silvia, who then +enjoyed the greatest reputation, and I judged her to be even above +it. She was then about fifty years old, her figure was elegant, her +air noble, her manners graceful and easy; she was affable, witty, +kind to everybody, simple and unpretending. Her face was an enigma, +for it inspired everyone with the warmest sympathy, and yet if you +examined it attentively there was not one beautiful feature; she +could not be called handsome, but no one could have thought her ugly. +Yet she was not one of those women who are neither handsome nor ugly, +for she possessed a certain something which struck one at first sight +and captivated the interest. Then what was she? + +Beautiful, certainly, but owing to charms unknown to all those who, +not being attracted towards her by an irresistible feeling which +compelled them to love her, had not the courage to study her, or the +constancy to obtain a thorough knowledge of her. + +Silvia was the adoration of France, and her talent was the real +support of all the comedies which the greatest authors wrote for her, +especially of, the plays of Marivaux, for without her his comedies +would never have gone to posterity. Never was an actress found who +could replace her, and to find one it would be necessary that she +should unite in herself all the perfections which Silvia possessed +for the difficult profession of the stage: action, voice, +intelligence, wit, countenance, manners, and a deep knowledge of the +human heart. In Silvia every quality was from nature, and the art +which gave the last touch of perfection to her qualities was never +seen. + +To the qualities which I have just mentioned, Silvia added another +which surrounded her with a brilliant halo, and the absence of which +would not have prevented her from being the shining star of the +stage: she led a virtuous life. She had been anxious to have +friends, but she had dismissed all lovers, refusing to avail herself +of a privilege which she could easily have enjoyed, but which would +have rendered her contemptible in her own estimation. The +irreproachable conduct obtained for her a reputation of +respectability which, at her age, would have been held as ridiculous +and even insulting by any other woman belonging to the same +profession, and many ladies of the highest rank honoured her with her +friendship more even than with their patronage. Never did the +capricious audience of a Parisian pit dare to hiss Silvia, not even +in her performance of characters which the public disliked, and it +was the general opinion that she was in every way above her +profession. + +Silvia did not think that her good conduct was a merit, for she knew +that she was virtuous only because her self-love compelled her to be +so, and she never exhibited any pride or assumed any superiority +towards her theatrical sisters, although, satisfied to shine by their +talent or their beauty, they cared little about rendering themselves +conspicuous by their virtue. Silvia loved them all, and they all +loved her; she always was the first to praise, openly and with good +faith, the talent of her rivals; but she lost nothing by it, because, +being their superior in talent and enjoying a spotless reputation, +her rivals could not rise above her. + +Nature deprived that charming woman of ten year of life; she became +consumptive at the age of sixty, ten years after I had made her +acquaintance. The climate of Paris often proves fatal to our Italian +actresses. Two years before her death I saw her perform the +character of Marianne in the comedy of Marivaux, and in spite of her +age and declining health the illusion was complete. She died in my +presence, holding her daughter in her arms, and she was giving her +the advice of a tender mother five minutes before she breathed her +last. She was honourably buried in the church of St. Sauveur, +without the slightest opposition from the venerable priest, who, far +from sharing the anti-christain intolerancy of the clergy in general, +said that her profession as an actress had not hindered her from +being a good Christian, and that the earth was the common mother of +all human beings, as Jesus Christ had been the Saviour of all +mankind. + +You will forgive me, dear reader, if I have made you attend the +funeral of Silvia ten years before her death; believe me I have no +intention of performing a miracle; you may console yourself with the +idea that I shall spare you that unpleasant task when poor Silvia +dies. + +Her only daughter, the object of her adoration, was seated next to +her at the supper-table. She was then only nine years old, and being +entirely taken up by her mother I paid no attention to her; my +interest in her was to come. + +After the supper, which was protracted to a late hour, I repaired to +the house of Madame Quinson, my landlady, where I found myself very +comfortable. When I woke in the morning, the said Madame Quinson +came to my room to tell me that a servant was outside and wished to +offer me his services. I asked her to send him in, and I saw a man +of very small stature; that did not please me, and I told him so. + +"My small stature, your honour, will be a guarantee that I shall +never borrow your clothes to go to some amorous rendezvous." + +"Your name?" + +"Any name you please." + +"What do you mean? I want the name by which you are known." + +"I have none. Every master I serve calls me according to his fancy, +and I have served more than fifty in my life. You may call me what +you like." + +"But you must have a family name." + +"I never had any family. I had a name, I believe, in my young days, +but I have forgotten it since I have been in service. My name has +changed with every new master." + +"Well! I shall call you Esprit." + +"You do me a great honour." + +"Here, go and get me change for a Louis." + +"I have it, sir." + +"I see you are rich." + +"At your service, sir." + +"Where can I enquire about you?" + +"At the agency for servants. Madame Quinson, besides, can answer +your enquiries. Everybody in Paris knows me." + +"That is enough. I shall give you thirty sous a day; you must find +your own clothes: you will sleep where you like, and you must be here +at seven o'clock every morning." + +Baletti called on me and entreated me to take my meals every day at +his house. After his visit I told Esprit to take me to the Palais- +Royal, and I left him at the gates. I felt the greatest curiosity +about that renowned garden, and at first I examined everything. I +see a rather fine garden, walks lined with big trees, fountains, high +houses all round the garden, a great many men and women walking +about, benches here and there forming shops for the sale of +newspapers, perfumes, tooth-picks, and other trifles. I see a +quantity of chairs for hire at the rate of one sou, men reading the +newspaper under the shade of the trees, girls and men breakfasting +either alone or in company, waiters who were rapidly going up and +down a narrow staircase hidden under the foliage. + +I sit down at a small table: a waiter comes immediately to enquire my +wishes. I ask for some chocolate made with water; he brings me some, +but very bad, although served in a splendid silver-gilt cup. I tell +him to give me some coffee, if it is good. + +"Excellent, I made it myself yesterday." + +"Yesterday! I do not want it." + +"The milk is very good." + +"Milk! I never drink any. Make me a cup of fresh coffee without +milk." + +"Without milk! Well, sir, we never make coffee but in the afternoon. +Would you like a good bavaroise, or a decanter of orgeat?" + +"Yes, give me the orgeat." + +I find that beverage delicious, and make up my mind to have it daily +for my breakfast. I enquire from the waiter whether there is any +news; he answers that the dauphine has been delivered of a prince. +An abbe, seated at a table close by, says to him,-- + +"You are mad, she has given birth to a princess." + +A third man comes forward and exclaims,-- + +"I have just returned from Versailles, and the dauphine has not been +delivered either of a prince or of a princess." + +Then, turning towards me, he says that I look like a foreigner, and +when I say that I am an Italian he begins to speak to me of the +court, of the city, of the theatres, and at last he offers to +accompany me everywhere. I thank him and take my leave. The abbe +rises at the same time, walks with me, and tells me the names of all +the women we meet in the garden. + +A young man comes up to him, they embrace one another, and the abbe +presents him to me as a learned Italian scholar. I address him in +Italian, and he answers very wittily, but his way of speaking makes +me smile, and I tell him why. He expressed himself exactly in the +style of Boccacio. My remark pleases him, but I soon prove to him +that it is not the right way to speak, however perfect may have been +the language of that ancient writer. In less than a quarter of an +hour we are excellent friends, for we find that our tastes are the +same. + +My new friend was a poet as I was; he was an admirer of Italian +literature, while I admired the French. + +We exchanged addresses, and promise to see one another very often. + +I see a crowd in one corner of the garden, everybody standing still +and looking up. I enquire from my friend whether there is anything +wonderful going on. + +"These persons are watching the meridian; everyone holds his watch in +his hand in order to regulate it exactly at noon." + +"Is there not a meridian everywhere?" + +"Yes, but the meridian of the Palais-Royal is the most exact." + +I laugh heartily. + +"Why do you laugh?" + +"Because it is impossible for all meridians not to be the same. That +is true 'badauderie'." + +My friend looks at me for a moment, then he laughs likewise, and +supplies me with ample food to ridicule the worthy Parisians. We +leave the Palais-Royal through the main gate, and I observe another +crowd of people before a shop, on the sign-board of which I read "At +the Sign of the Civet Cat." + +"What is the matter here?" + +"Now, indeed, you are going to laugh. All these honest persons are +waiting their turn to get their snuff-boxes filled." + +"Is there no other dealer in snuff?" + +"It is sold everywhere, but for the last three weeks nobody will use +any snuff but that sold at the 'Civet Cat.'" + +"Is it better than anywhere else?" + +"Perhaps it is not as good, but since it has been brought into +fashion by the Duchesse de Chartres, nobody will have any other." + +"But how did she manage to render it so fashionable?" + +"Simply by stopping her carriage two or three times before the shop +to have her snuff-box filled, and by saying aloud to the young girl +who handed back the box that her snuff was the very best in Paris. +The 'badauds', who never fail to congregate near the carriage of +princes, no matter if they have seen them a hundred times, or if they +know them to be as ugly as monkeys, repeated the words of the duchess +everywhere, and that was enough to send here all the snuff-takers of +the capital in a hurry. This woman will make a fortune, for she +sells at least one hundred crowns' worth of snuff every day." + +"Very likely the duchess has no idea of the good she has done." + +"Quite the reverse, for it was a cunning artifice on her part. The +duchess, feeling interested in the newly-married young woman, and +wishing to serve her in a delicate manner, thought of that expedient +which has met with complete success. You cannot imagine how kind +Parisians are. You are now in the only country in the world where +wit can make a fortune by selling either a genuine or a false +article: in the first case, it receives the welcome of intelligent +and talented people, and in the second, fools are always ready to +reward it, for silliness is truly a characteristic of the people +here, and, however wonderful it may appear, silliness is the daughter +of wit. Therefore it is not a paradox to say that the French would +be wiser if they were less witty. + +"The gods worshipped here although no altars are raised for them--are +Novelty and Fashion. Let a man run, and everybody will run after +him. The crowd will not stop, unless the man is proved to be mad; +but to prove it is indeed a difficult task, because we have a crowd +of men who, mad from their birth, are still considered wise. + +"The snuff of the 'Civet Cat' is but one example of the facility with +which the crowd can be attracted to one particular spot. The king +was one day hunting, and found himself at the Neuilly Bridge; being +thirsty, he wanted a glass of ratafia. He stopped at the door of a +drinking-booth, and by the most lucky chance the poor keeper of the +place happened to have a bottle of that liquor. The king, after he +had drunk a small glass, fancied a second one, and said that he had +never tasted such delicious ratafia in his life. That was enough to +give the ratafia of the good man of Neuilly the reputation of being +the best in Europe: the king had said so. The consequence was that +the most brilliant society frequented the tavern of the delighted +publican, who is now a very wealthy man, and has built on the very +spot a splendid house on which can be read the following rather comic +motto: 'Ex liquidis solidum,' which certainly came out of the head of +one of the forty immortals. Which gods must the worthy tavern-keeper +worship? Silliness, frivolity, and mirth." + +"It seems to me," I replied, "that such approval, such ratification +of the opinion expressed by the king, the princes of the blood, etc., +is rather a proof of the affection felt for them by the nation, for +the French carry that affection to such an extent that they believe +them infallible." + +"It is certain that everything here causes foreigners to believe that +the French people adore the king, but all thinking men here know well +enough that there is more show than reality in that adoration, and +the court has no confidence in it. When the king comes to Paris, +everybody calls out, 'Vive le Roi!' because some idle fellow begins, +or because some policeman has given the signal from the midst of the +crowd, but it is really a cry which has no importance, a cry given +out of cheerfulness, sometimes out of fear, and which the king +himself does not accept as gospel. He does not feel comfortable in +Paris, and he prefers being in Versailles, surrounded by twenty-five +thousand men who protect him against the fury of that same people of +Paris, who, if ever they became wiser, might very well one day call +out, 'Death to the King!' instead of, 'Long life to the King!' Louis +XIV. was well aware of it, and several councillors of the upper +chamber lost their lives for having advised the assembling of the +states-general in order to find some remedy for the misfortunes of +the country. France never had any love for any kings, with the +exception of St. Louis, of Louis XII, and of the great and good Henry +IV.; and even in the last case the love of the nation was not +sufficient to defend the king against the dagger of the Jesuits, an +accursed race, the enemy of nations as well as of kings. The present +king, who is weak and entirely led by his ministers, said candidly at +the time he was just recovering from illness, 'I am surprised at the +rejoicings of the people in consequence of my health being restored, +for I cannot imagine why they should love me so dearly.' Many kings +might repeat the same words, at least if love is to be measured +according to the amount of good actually done. That candid remark of +Louis XV. has been highly praised, but some philosopher of the court +ought to have informed him that he was so much loved because he had +been surnamed 'le bien aime'." + +"Surname or nickname; but are there any philosophers at the court of +France?" + +"No, for philosophers and courtiers are as widely different as light +and darkness; but there are some men of intelligence who champ the +bit from motives of ambition and interest." + +As we were thus conversing, M. Patu (such was the name of my new +acquaintance) escorted me as far as the door of Silvia's house; he +congratulated me upon being one of her friends, and we parted +company. + +I found the amiable actress in good company. She introduced me to +all her guests, and gave me some particulars respecting every one of +them. The name of Crebillon struck my ear. + +"What, sir!" I said to him, "am I fortunate enough to see you? For +eight years you have charmed me, for eight years I have longed to +know you. Listen, I beg 'of you." + +I then recited the finest passage of his 'Zenobie et Rhadamiste', +which I had translated into blank verse. Silvia was delighted to see +the pleasure enjoyed by Crebillon in hearing, at the age of eighty, +his own lines in a language which he knew thoroughly and loved as +much as his own. He himself recited the same passage in French, and +politely pointed out the parts in which he thought that I had +improved on the original. I thanked him, but I was not deceived by +his compliment. + +We sat down to supper, and, being asked what I had already seen in +Paris, I related everything I had done, omitting only my conversation +with Patu. After I had spoken for a long time, Crebillon, who had +evidently observed better than anyone else the road I had chosen in +order to learn the good as well as the bad qualities by his +countrymen, said to me, + +"For the first day, sir, I think that what you have done gives great +hopes of you, and without any doubt you will make rapid progress. +You tell your story well, and you speak French in such a way as to be +perfectly understood; yet all you say is only Italian dressed in +French. That is a novelty which causes you to be listened to with +interest, and which captivates the attention of your audience; I must +even add that your Franco-Italian language is just the thing to +enlist in your favour the sympathy of those who listen to you, +because it is singular, new, and because you are in a country where +everybody worships those two divinities--novelty and singularity. +Nevertheless, you must begin to-morrow and apply yourself in good +earnest, in order to acquire a thorough knowledge of our language, +for the same persons who warmly applaud you now, will, in two or +three months, laugh at you." + +"I believe it, sir, and that is what I fear; therefore the principal +object of my visit here is to devote myself entirely to the study of +the French language. But, sir, how shall I find a teacher? I am a +very unpleasant pupil, always asking questions, curious, troublesome, +insatiable, and even supposing that I could meet with the teacher I +require, I am afraid I am not rich enough to pay him." + +"For fifty years, sir, I have been looking out for a pupil such as +you have just described yourself, and I would willingly pay you +myself if you would come to my house and receive my lessons. I +reside in the Marais, Rue de Douze Portes. I have the best Italian +poets. I will make you translate them into French, and you need not +be afraid of my finding you insatiable." + +I accepted with joy. I did not know how to express my gratitude, but +both his offer and the few words of my answer bore the stamp of truth +and frankness. + +Crebillon was a giant; he was six feet high, and three inches taller +than I. He had a good appetite, could tell a good story without +laughing, was celebrated for his witty repartees and his sociable +manners, but he spent his life at home, seldom going out, and seeing +hardly anyone because he always had a pipe in his mouth and was +surrounded by at least twenty cats, with which he would amuse himself +all day. He had an old housekeeper, a cook, and a man-servant. His +housekeeper had the management of everything; she never allowed him +to be in need of anything, and she gave no account of his money, +which she kept altogether, because he never asked her to render any +accounts. The expression of Crebillon's face was that of the lion's +or of the cat's, which is the same thing. He was one of the royal +censors, and he told me that it was an amusement for him. His +housekeeper was in the habit of reading him the works brought for his +examination, and she would stop reading when she came to a passage +which, in her opinion, deserved his censure, but sometimes they were +of a different opinion, and then their discussions were truly +amusing. I once heard the housekeeper send away an author with these +words: + +"Come again next week; we have had no time to examine your +manuscript." + +During a whole year I paid M. Crebillon three visits every week, and +from him I learned all I know of the French language, but I found it +impossible to get rid of my Italian idioms. I remark that turn +easily enough when I meet with it in other people, but it flows +naturally from my pen without my being aware of it. I am satisfied +that, whatever I may do, I shall never be able to recognize it any +more than I can find out in what consists the bad Latin style so +constantly alleged against Livy. + +I composed a stanza of eight verses on some subject which I do not +recollect, and I gave it to Crebillon, asking him to correct it. He +read it attentively, and said to me, + +"These eight verses are good and regular, the thought is fine and +truly poetical, the style is perfect, and yet the stanza is bad." + +"How so?" + +"I do not know. I cannot tell you what is wanting. Imagine that you +see a man handsome, well made, amiable, witty-in fact, perfect, +according to your most severe judgment. A woman comes in, sees him, +looks at him, and goes away telling you that the man does not please +her. 'But what fault do you find in him, madam?' 'None, only he +does not please me.' You look again at the man, you examine him a +second time, and you find that, in order to give him a heavenly +voice, he has been deprived of that which constitutes a man, and you +are compelled to acknowledge that a spontaneous feeling has stood the +woman in good stead." + +It was by that comparison that Crebillon explained to me a thing +almost inexplicable, for taste and feeling alone can account for a +thing which is subject to no rule whatever. + +We spoke a great deal of Louis XIV., whom Crebillon had known well +for fifteen years, and he related several very curious anecdotes +which were generally unknown. Amongst other things he assured me +that the Siamese ambassadors were cheats paid by Madame de Maintenon. +He told us likewise that he had never finished his tragedy of +Cromwell, because the king had told him one day not to wear out his +pen on a scoundrel. + +Crebillon mentioned likewise his tragedy of Catilina, and he told me +that, in his opinion, it was the most deficient of his works, but +that he never would have consented, even to make a good tragedy, to +represent Caesar as a young man, because he would in that case have +made the public laugh, as they would do if Madea were to appear +previous to her acquaintances with Jason. + +He praised the talent of Voltaire very highly, but he accused him of +having stolen from him, Crebillon, the scene of the senate. He, +however, rendered him full justice, saying that he was a true +historian, and able to write history as well as tragedies, but that +he unfortunately adulterated history by mixing with it such a number +of light anecdotes and tales for the sake of rendering it more +attractive. According to Crebillon, the Man with the Iron Mask was +nothing but an idle tale, and he had been assured of it by Louis XIV. +himself. + +On the day of my first meeting with Crebillon at Silvia's, 'Cenie', a +play by Madame de Graffigny, was performed at the Italian Theatre, +and I went away early in order to get a good seat in the pit. + +The ladies all covered with diamonds, who were taking possession of +the private boxes, engrossed all my interest and all my attention. I +wore a very fine suit, but my open ruffles and the buttons all along +my coat shewed at once that I was a foreigner, for the fashion was +not the same in Paris. I was gaping in the air and listlessly +looking round, when a gentleman, splendidly dressed, and three times +stouter than I, came up and enquired whether I was a foreigner. I +answered affirmatively, and he politely asked me how I liked Paris. +I praised Paris very warmly. But at that moment a very stout lady, +brilliant with diamonds, entered the box near us. Her enormous size +astonished me, and, like a fool, I said to the gentleman: + +"Who is that fat sow?" + +"She is the wife of this fat pig." + +"Ah! I beg your pardon a thousand times!" + +But my stout gentleman cared nothing for my apologies, and very far +from being angry he almost choked with laughter. This was the happy +result of the practical and natural philosophy which Frenchmen +cultivate so well, and which insures the happiness of their existence +under an appearance of frivolity! + +I was confused, I was in despair, but the stout gentleman continued +to laugh heartily. At last he left the pit, and a minute afterwards +I saw him enter the box and speak to his wife. I was keeping an eye +on them without daring to look at them openly, and suddenly the lady, +following the example of her husband, burst into a loud laugh. Their +mirth making me more uncomfortable, I was leaving the pit, when the +husband called out to me, "Sir! Sir!" + +"I could not go away without being guilty of impoliteness, and I went +up to their box. Then, with a serious countenance and with great +affability, he begged my pardon for having laughed so much, and very +graciously invited me to come to his house and sup with them that +same evening. I thanked him politely, saying that I had a previous +engagement. But he renewed his entreaties, and his wife pressing me +in the most engaging manner I told them, in order to prove that I was +not trying to elude their invitation, that I was expected to sup at +Silvia's house. + +"In that case I am certain," said the gentleman, "of obtaining your +release if you do not object. Allow me to go myself to Silvia." + +It would have been uncourteous on my part to resist any longer. He +left the box and returned almost immediately with my friend Baletti, +who told me that his mother was delighted to see me making such +excellent acquaintances, and that she would expect to see me at +dinner the next day. He whispered to me that my new acquaintance was +M. de Beauchamp, Receiver-General of Taxes. + +As soon as the performance was over, I offered my hand to madame, and +we drove to their mansion in a magnificent carriage. There I found +the abundance or rather the profusion which in Paris is exhibited by +the men of finance; numerous society, high play, good cheer, and open +cheerfulness. The supper was not over till one o'clock in the +morning. Madame's private carriage drove me to my lodgings. That +house offered me a kind welcome during the whole of my stay in Paris, +and I must add that my new friends proved very useful to me. Some +persons assert that foreigners find the first fortnight in Paris very +dull, because a little time is necessary to get introduced, but I was +fortunate enough to find myself established on as good a footing as I +could desire within twenty-four hours, and the consequence was that I +felt delighted with Paris, and certain that my stay would prove an +agreeable one. + +The next morning Patu called and made me a present of his prose +panegyric on the Marechal de Saxe. We went out together and took a +walk in the Tuileries, where he introduced me to Madame du Boccage, +who made a good jest in speaking of the Marechal de Saxe. + +"It is singular," she said, "that we cannot have a 'De profundis' for +a man who makes us sing the 'Te Deum' so often." + +As we left the Tuileries, Patu took me to the house of a celebrated +actress of the opera, Mademoiselle Le Fel, the favourite of all +Paris, and member of the Royal Academy of Music. She had three very +young and charming children, who were fluttering around her like +butterflies. + +"I adore them," she said to me. + +"They deserve adoration for their beauty," I answered, "although they +have all a different cast of countenance." + +"No wonder! The eldest is the son of the Duke d'Anneci, the second +of Count d'Egmont, and the youngest is the offspring of Maison-Rouge, +who has just married the Romainville." + +"Ah! pray excuse me, I thought you were the mother of the three." + +"You were not mistaken, I am their mother." + +As she said these words she looked at Patu, and both burst into +hearty laughter which did not make me blush, but which shewed me my +blunder. + +I was a, novice in Paris, and I had not been accustomed to see women +encroach upon the privilege which men alone generally enjoy. Yet +mademoiselle Le Fel was not a bold-faced woman; she was even rather +ladylike, but she was what is called above prejudices. If I had +known the manners of the time better, I should have been aware that +such things were every-day occurrences, and that the noblemen who +thus sprinkled their progeny everywhere were in the habit of leaving +their children in the hands of their mothers, who were well paid. +The more fruitful, therefore, these ladies were, the greater was +their income. + +My want of experience often led me into serious blunders, and +Mademoiselle Le Fel would, I have no doubt, have laughed at anyone +telling her that I had some wit, after the stupid mistake of which I +had been guilty. + +Another day, being at the house of Lani, ballet-master of the opera, +I saw five or six young girls of thirteen or fourteen years of age +accompanied by their mothers, and all exhibiting that air of modesty +which is the characteristic of a good education. I addressed a few +gallant words to them, and they answered me with down-cast eyes. One +of them having complained of the headache, I offered her my smelling- +bottle, and one of her companions said to her, + +"Very likely you did not sleep well last night." + +"Oh! it is not that," answered the modest-looking Agnes, "I think I +am in the family-way." + +On receiving this unexpected reply from a girl I had taken for a +maiden, I said to her, + +"I should never have supposed that you were married, madam." + +She looked at me with evident surprise for a moment, then she turned +towards her friend, and both began to laugh immoderately. Ashamed, +but for them more than myself, I left the house with a firm +resolution never again to take virtue for granted in a class of women +amongst whom it is so scarce. To look for, even to suppose, modesty, +amongst the nymphs of the green room, is, indeed, to be very foolish; +they pride themselves upon having none, and laugh at those who are +simple enough to suppose them better than they are. + +Thanks to my friend Patu, I made the acquaintance of all the women +who enjoyed some reputation in Paris. He was fond of the fair sex, +but unfortunately for him he had not a constitution like mine, and +his love of pleasure killed him very early. If he had lived, he +would have gone down to posterity in the wake of Voltaire, but he +paid the debt of nature at the age of thirty. + +I learned from him the secret which several young French literati +employ in order to make certain of the perfection of their prose, +when they want to write anything requiring as perfect a style as they +can obtain, such as panegyrics, funeral orations, eulogies, +dedications, etc. It was by surprise that I wrested that secret from +Patu. + +Being at his house one morning, I observed on his table several +sheets of paper covered with dode-casyllabic blank verse. + +I read a dozen of them, and I told him that, although the verses were +very fine, the reading caused me more pain than pleasure. + +"They express the same ideas as the panegyric of the Marechal de +Saxe, but I confess that your prose pleases me a great deal more." + +"My prose would not have pleased you so much, if it had not been at +first composed in blank verse." + +"Then you take very great trouble for nothing." + +"No trouble at all, for I have not the slightest difficulty in +writing that sort of poetry. I write it as easily as prose." + +"Do you think that your prose is better when you compose it from your +own poetry?" + +"No doubt of it, it is much better, and I also secure the advantage +that my prose is not full of half verses which flow from the pen of +the writer without his being aware of it." + +"Is that a fault?" + +"A great one and not to be forgiven. Prose intermixed with +occasional verses is worse than prosaic poetry." + +"Is it true that the verses which, like parasites, steal into a +funeral oration, must be sadly out of place?" + +"Certainly. Take the example of Tacitus, who begins his history of +Rome by these words: 'Urbem Roman a principio reges habuere'. They +form a very poor Latin hexameter, which the great historian certainly +never made on purpose, and which he never remarked when he revised +his work, for there is no doubt that, if he had observed it, he would +have altered that sentence. Are not such verses considered a blemish +in Italian prose?" + +"Decidedly. But I must say that a great many poor writers have +purposely inserted such verses into their prose, believing that they +would make it more euphonious. Hence the tawdriness which is justly +alleged against much Italian literature. But I suppose you are the +only writer who takes so much pains." + +"The only one? Certainly not. All the authors who can compose blank +verses very easily, as I can, employ them when they intend to make a +fair copy of their prose. Ask Crebillon, the Abby de Voisenon, +La Harpe, anyone you like, and they will all tell you the same thing. +Voltaire was the first to have recourse to that art in the small +pieces in which his prose is truly charming. For instance, the +epistle to Madame du Chatelet, which is magnificent. Read it, and if +you find a single hemistich in it I will confess myself in the +wrong." + +I felt some curiosity about the matter, and I asked Crebillon about +it. He told me that Fatu was right, but he added that he had never +practised that art himself. + +Patu wished very much to take me to the opera in order to witness the +effect produced upon me by the performance, which must truly astonish +an Italian. 'Les Fetes Venitiennes' was the title of the opera which +was in vogue just then--a title full of interest for me. We went for +our forty sous to the pit, in which, although the audience was +standing, the company was excellent, for the opera was the favourite +amusement of the Parisians. + +After a symphony, very fine in its way and executed by an excellent +orchestra, the curtain rises, and I see a beautiful scene +representing the small St. Mark's Square in Venice, taken from the +Island of St. George, but I am shocked to see the ducal palace on my +left, and the tall steeple on my right, that is to say the very +reverse of reality. I laugh at this ridiculous mistake, and Patu, to +whom I say why I am laughing, cannot help joining me. The music, +very fine although in the ancient style, at first amused me on +account of its novelty, but it soon wearied me. The melopaeia +fatigued me by its constant and tedious monotony, and by the shrieks +given out of season. That melopaeia, of the French replaces--at +least they think so--the Greek melapaeia and our recitative which +they dislike, but which they would admire if they understood Italian. + +The action of the opera was limited to a day in the carnival, when +the Venetians are in the habit of promenading masked in St. Mark's +Square. The stage was animated by gallants, procuresses, and women +amusing themselves with all sorts of intrigues. The costumes were +whimsical and erroneous, but the whole was amusing. I laughed very +heartily, and it was truly a curious sight for a Venetian, when I saw +the Doge followed by twelve Councillors appear on the stage, all +dressed in the most ludicrous style, and dancing a 'pas d'ensemble'. +Suddenly the whole of the pit burst into loud applause at the +appearance of a tall, well-made dancer, wearing a mask and an +enormous black wig, the hair of which went half-way down his back, +and dressed in a robe open in front and reaching to his heels. Patu +said, almost reverently, "It is the inimitable Dupres." I had heard +of him before, and became attentive. I saw that fine figure coming +forward with measured steps, and when the dancer had arrived in front +of the stage, he raised slowly his rounded arms, stretched them +gracefully backward and forward, moved his feet with precision and +lightness, took a few small steps, made some battements and +pirouettes, and disappeared like a butterfly. The whole had not +lasted half a minute. The applause burst from every part of the +house. I was astonished, and asked my friend the cause of all those +bravos. + +"We applaud the grace of Dupres and, the divine harmony of his +movements. He is now sixty years of age, and those who saw him forty +years ago say that he is always the same." + +"What! Has he never danced in a different style?" + +"He could not have danced in a better one, for his style is perfect, +and what can you want above perfection?" + +"Nothing, unless it be a relative perfection." + +"But here it is absolute. Dupres always does the same thing, and +everyday we fancy we see it for the first time. Such is the power of +the good and beautiful, of the true and sublime, which speak to the +soul. His dance is true harmony, the real dance, of which you have +no idea in Italy." + +At the end of the second act, Dupres appeared again, still with a +mask, and danced to a different tune, but in my opinion doing exactly +the same as before. He advanced to the very footlights, and stopped +one instant in a graceful attitude. Patu wanted to force my +admiration, and I gave way. Suddenly everyone round me exclaimed,-- + +"Look! look! he is developing himself!" + +And in reality he was like an elastic body which, in developing +itself, would get larger. I made Patu very happy by telling him that +Dupres was truly very graceful in all his movements. Immediately +after him we had a female dancer, who jumped about like a fury, +cutting to right and left, but heavily, yet she was applauded 'con +furore'. + +"This is," said Patu, "the famous Camargo. I congratulate you, my +friend, upon having arrived in Paris in time to see her, for she has +accomplished her twelfth lustre." + +I confessed that she was a wonderful dancer. + +"She is the first artist," continued my friend, "who has dared to +spring and jump on a French stage. None ventured upon doing it +before her, and, what is more extraordinary, she does not wear any +drawers." + +"I beg your pardon, but I saw...." + +"What? Nothing but her skin which, to speak the truth, is not made +of lilies and roses." + +"The Camargo," I said, with an air of repentance, "does not please +me. I like Dupres much better." + +An elderly admirer of Camargo, seated on my left, told me that in her +youth she could perform the 'saut de basque' and even the +'gargouillade', and that nobody had ever seen her thighs, although +she always danced without drawers. + +"But if you never saw her thighs, how do you know that she does not +wear silk tights?" + +"Oh! that is one of those things which can easily be ascertained. I +see you are a foreigner, sir." + +"You are right." + +But I was delighted at the French opera, with the rapidity of the +scenic changes which are done like lightning, at the signal of a +whistle--a thing entirely unknown in Italy. I likewise admired the +start given to the orchestra by the baton of the leader, but he +disgusted me with the movements of his sceptre right and left, as if +he thought that he could give life to all the instruments by the mere +motion of his arm. I admired also the silence of the audience, a +thing truly wonderful to an Italian, for it is with great reason that +people complain of the noise made in Italy while the artists are +singing, and ridicule the silence which prevails through the house as +soon as the dancers make their appearance on the stage. One would +imagine that all the intelligence of the Italians is in their eyes. +At the same time I must observe that there is not one country in the +world in which extravagance and whimsicalness cannot be found, +because the foreigner can make comparisons with what he has seen +elsewhere, whilst the natives are not conscious of their errors. +Altogether the opera pleased me, but the French comedy captivated me. +There the French are truly in their element; they perform splendidly, +in a masterly manner, and other nations cannot refuse them the palm +which good taste and justice must award to their superiority. I was +in the habit of going there every day, and although sometimes the +audience was not composed of two hundred persons, the actors were +perfect. I have seen 'Le Misanthrope', 'L'Avare', 'Tartufe', 'Le +Joueur', 'Le Glorieux', and many other comedies; and, no matter how +often I saw them. I always fancied it was the first time. I arrived +in Paris to admire Sarrazin, La Dangeville, La Dumesnil, La Gaussin, +La Clairon, Preville, and several actresses who, having retired from +the stage, were living upon their pension, and delighting their +circle of friends. I made, amongst others, the acquaintance of the +celebrated Le Vasseur. I visited them all with pleasure, and they +related to me several very curious anecdotes. They were generally +most kindly disposed in every way. + +One evening, being in the box of Le Vasseur, the performance was +composed of a tragedy in which a very handsome actress had the part +of a dumb priestess. + +"How pretty she is!" I said. + +"Yes, charming," answered Le Vasseur, "She is the daughter of the +actor who plays the confidant. She is very pleasant in company, and +is an actress of good promise." + +"I should be very happy to make her acquaintance." + +"Oh! well; that is not difficult. Her father and mother are very +worthy people, and they will be delighted if you ask them to invite +you to supper. They will not disturb you; they will go to bed early, +and will let you talk with their daughter as long as you please. You +are in France, sir; here we know the value of life, and try to make +the best of it. We love pleasure, and esteem ourselves fortunate +when we can find the opportunity of enjoying life." + +"That is truly charming, madam; but how could I be so bold as to +invite myself to supper with worthy persons whom I do not know, and +who have not the slightest knowledge of me?" + +"Oh, dear me! What are you saying? We know everybody. You see how +I treat you myself. After the performance, I shall be happy to +introduce you, and the acquaintance will be made at once." + +"I certainly must ask you to do me that honour, but another time." + +"Whenever you like." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +My Blunders in the French Language, My Success, My Numerous +Acquaintances--Louis XV.--My Brother Arrives in Paris. + + +All the Italian actors in Paris insisted upon entertaining me, in +order to shew me their magnificence, and they all did it in a +sumptuous style. Carlin Bertinazzi who played Harlequin, and was a +great favourite of the Parisians, reminded me that he had already +seen me thirteen years before in Padua, at the time of his return +from St. Petersburg with my mother. He offered me an excellent +dinner at the house of Madame de la Caillerie, where he lodged. That +lady was in love with him. I complimented her upon four charming +children whom I saw in the house. Her husband, who was present, said +to me; + +"They are M. Carlin's children." + +"That may be, sir, but you take care of them, and as they go by your +name, of course they will acknowledge you as their father." + +"Yes, I should be so legally; but M. Carlin is too honest a man not +to assume the care of his children whenever I may wish to get rid of +them. He is well aware that they belong to him, and my wife would be +the first to complain if he ever denied it." + +The man was not what is called a good, easy fellow, far from it; but +he took the matter in a philosophical way, and spoke of it with calm, +and even with a sort of dignity. He was attached to Carlin by a warm +friendship, and such things were then very common in Paris amongst +people of a certain class. Two noblemen, Boufflers and Luxembourg, +had made a friendly exchange of each other's wives, and each had +children by the other's wife. The young Boufflers were called +Luxembourg, and the young Luxembourg were called Boufflers. The +descendants of those tiercelets are even now known in France under +those names. Well, those who were in the secret of that domestic +comedy laughed, as a matter of course, and it did not prevent the +earth from moving according to the laws of gravitation. + +The most wealthy of the Italian comedians in Paris was Pantaloon, the +father of Coraline and Camille, and a well-known usurer. He also +invited me to dine with his family, and I was delighted with his two +daughters. The eldest, Coraline, was kept by the Prince of Monaco, +son of the Duke of Valentinois, who was still alive; and Camille was +enamoured of the Count of Melfort, the favourite of the Duchess of +Chartres, who had just become Duchess of Orleans by the death of her +father-in-law. + +Coraline was not so sprightly as Camille, but she was prettier. I +began to make love to her as a young man of no consequence, and at +hours which I thought would not attract attention: but all hours +belong by right to the established lover, and I therefore found +myself sometimes with her when the Prince of Monaco called to see +her. At first I would bow to the prince and withdraw, but afterwards +I was asked to remain, for as a general thing princes find a tete-a- +tete with their mistresses rather wearisome. Therefore we used to +sup together, and they both listened, while it was my province to +eat, and to relate stories. + +I bethought myself of paying my court to the prince, and he received +my advances very well. One morning, as I called on Coraline, he said +to me, + +"Ah! I am very glad to see you, for I have promised the Duchess of +Rufe to present you to her, and we can go to her immediately." + +Again a duchess! My star is decidedly in the ascendant. Well, let +us go! We got into a 'diable', a sort of vehicle then very +fashionable, and at eleven o'clock in the morning we were introduced +to the duchess. + +Dear reader, if I were to paint it with a faithful pen, my portrait +of that lustful vixen would frighten you. Imagine sixty winters +heaped upon a face plastered with rouge, a blotched and pimpled +complexion, emaciated and gaunt features, all the ugliness of +libertinism stamped upon the countenance of that creature relining +upon the sofa. As soon as she sees me, she exclaims with rapid joy, + +"Ah! this is a good-looking man! Prince, it is very amiable on your +part to bring him to me. Come and sit near me, my fine fellow!" + +I obeyed respectfully, but a noxious smell of musk, which seemed to +me almost corpse-like, nearly upset me. The infamous duchess had +raised herself on the sofa and exposed all the nakedness of the most +disgusting bosom, which would have caused the most courageous man to +draw back. The prince, pretending to have some engagement, left us, +saying that he would send his carriage for me in a short time. + +As soon as we were alone, the plastered skeleton thrust its arms +forward, and, without giving me time to know what I was about, the +creature gave me a horrible kiss, and then one of her hands began to +stray with the most bare-faced indecency. + +"Let me see, my fine cock," she said, "if you have a fine . . ." + +I was shuddering, and resisted the attempt. + +"Well, well! What a baby you are!" said the disgusting Messaline; +"are you such a novice?" + +"No, madam; but...." + +"But what?" + +"I have...." + +"Oh, the villain!" she exclaimed, loosing her hold; "what was I going +to expose myself to!" + +I availed myself of the opportunity, snatched my hat, and took to my +heels, afraid lest the door-keeper should stop me. + +I took a coach and drove to Coraline's, where I related the +adventure. She laughed heartily, and agreed with me that the prince +had played me a nasty trick. She praised the presence of mind with +which I had invented an impediment, but she did not give me an +opportunity of proving to her that I had deceived the duchess. + +Yet I was not without hope, and suspected that she did not think me +sufficiently enamoured of her. + +Three or four days afterwards, however, as we had supper together and +alone, I told her so many things, and I asked her so clearly to make +me happy or else to dismiss me, that she gave me an appointment for +the next day. + +"To-morrow," she said, "the prince goes to Versailles, and he will +not return until the day after; we will go together to the warren to +hunt ferrets, and have no doubt we shall come back to Paris pleased +with one another." + +"That is right." + +The next day at ten o'clock we took a coach, but as we were nearing +the gate of the city a vis-a-vis, with servants in a foreign livery +came tip to us, and the person who was in it called out, "Stop! +Stop!" + +The person was the Chevalier de Wurtemburg, who, without deigning to +cast even one glance on me, began to say sweet words to Coraline, and +thrusting his head entirely out of his carriage he whispered to her. +She answered him likewise in a whisper; then taking my hand, she said +to me, laughingly, + +"I have some important business with this prince; go to the warren +alone, my dear friend, enjoy the hunt, and come to me to-morrow." + +And saying those words she got out, took her seat in the vis-a-vis, +and I found myself very much in the position of Lot's wife, but not +motionless. + +Dear reader, if you have ever been in such a predicament you will +easily realize the rage with which I was possessed: if you have never +been served in that way, so much the better for you, but it is +useless for me to try to give you an idea of my anger; you would not +understand me. + +I was disgusted with the coach, and I jumped out of it, telling the +driver to go to the devil. I took the first hack which happened to +pass, and drove straight to Patu's house, to whom I related my +adventure, almost foaming with rage. But very far from pitying me or +sharing my anger, Patu, much wiser, laughed and said, + +"I wish with all my heart that the same thing might happen to me; for +you are certain of possessing our beautiful Coraline the very first +time you are with her." + +"I would not have her, for now I despise her heartily." "Your +contempt ought to have come sooner. But, now that is too late to +discuss the matter, I offer you, as a compensation, a dinner at the +Hotel du Roule." + +"Most decidedly yes; it is an excellent idea. Let us go." + +The Hotel du Roule was famous in Paris, and I had not been there yet. +The woman who kept it had furnished the place with great elegance, +and she always had twelve or fourteen well-chosen nymphs, with all +the conveniences that could be desired. Good cooking, good beds, +cleanliness, solitary and beautiful groves. Her cook was an artist, +and her wine-cellar excellent. Her name was Madame Paris; probably +an assumed name, but it was good enough for the purpose. Protected +by the police, she was far enough from Paris to be certain that those +who visited her liberally appointed establishment were above the +middle class. Everything was strictly regulated in her house and +every pleasure was taxed at a reasonable tariff. The prices were six +francs for a breakfast with a nymph, twelve for dinner, and twice +that sum to spend a whole night. I found the house even better than +its reputation, and by far superior to the warren. + +We took a coach, and Patu said to the driver, + +"To Chaillot." + +"I understand, your honour." + +After a drive of half an hour, we stopped before a gate on which +could be read, "Hotel du Roule." + +The gate was closed. A porter, sporting long mustachioes, came out +through a side-door and gravely examined us. He was most likely +pleased with our appearance, for the gate was opened and we went in. +A woman, blind of one eye, about forty years old, but with a remnant +of beauty, came up, saluted us politely, and enquired whether we +wished to have dinner. Our answer being affirmative, she took us to +a fine room in which we found fourteen young women, all very +handsome, and dressed alike in muslin. As we entered the room, they +rose and made us a graceful reverence; they were all about the same +age, some with light hair, some with dark; every taste could be +satisfied. We passed them in review, addressing a few words to each, +and made our choice. The two we chose screamed for joy, kissed us +with a voluptuousness which a novice might have mistaken for love, +and took us to the garden until dinner would be ready. That garden +was very large and artistically arranged to minister to the pleasures +of love. Madame Paris said to us, + +"Go, gentlemen, enjoy the fresh air with perfect security in every +way; my house is the temple of peace and of good health." + +The girl I had chosen was something like Coraline, and that made me +find her delightful. But in the midst of our amorous occupations we +were called to dinner. We were well served, and the dinner had given +us new strength, when our single-eyed hostess came, watch in hand, to +announce that time was up. Pleasure at the "Hotel du Roule" was +measured by the hour. + +I whispered to Patu, and, after a few philosophical considerations, +addressing himself to madame la gouvernante, he said to her, + +"We will have a double dose, and of course pay double." + +"You are quite welcome, gentlemen." + +We went upstairs, and after we had made our choice a second time, we +renewed our promenade in the garden. But once more we were +disagreeably surprised by the strict punctuality of the lady of the +house. "Indeed! this is too much of a good thing, madam." + +"Let us go up for the third time, make a third choice, and pass the +whole night here." + +"A delightful idea which I accept with all my heart." + +"Does Madame Paris approve our plan?" + +"I could not have devised a better one, gentlemen; it is a +masterpiece." + +When we were in the room, and after we had made a new choice, the +girls laughed at the first ones who had not contrived to captivate +us, and by way of revenge these girls told their companions that we +were lanky fellows. + +This time I was indeed astonished at my own choice. I had taken a +true Aspasia, and I thanked my stars that I had passed her by the +first two times, as I had now the certainty of possessing her for +fourteen hours. That beauty's name was Saint Hilaire; and under that +name she became famous in England, where she followed a rich lord the +year after. At first, vexed because I had not remarked her before, +she was proud and disdainful; but I soon proved to her that it was +fortunate that my first or second choice had not fallen on her, as +she would now remain longer with me. She then began to laugh, and +shewed herself very agreeable. + +That girl had wit, education and talent-everything, in fact, that is +needful to succeed in the profession she had adopted. During the +supper Patu told me in Italian that he was on the point of taking her +at the very moment I chose her, and the next morning he informed me +that he had slept quietly all night. The Saint Hilaire was highly +pleased with me, and she boasted of it before her companions. She +was the cause of my paying several visits to the Hotel du Roule, and +all for her; she was very proud of my constancy. + +Those visits very naturally cooled my ardour for Coraline. A singer +from Venice, called Guadani, handsome, a thorough musician, and very +witty, contrived to captivate her affections three weeks after my +quarrel with her. The handsome fellow, who was a man only in +appearance, inflamed her with curiosity if not with love, and caused +a rupture with the prince, who caught her in the very act. But +Coraline managed to coax him back, and, a short time after, a +reconciliation took place between them, and such a good one, that a +babe was the consequence of it; a girl, whom the prince named +Adelaide, and to whom he gave a dowry. After the death of his +father, the Duke of Valentinois, the prince left her altogether and +married Mlle. de Brignole, from Genoa. Coraline became the mistress +of Count de la Marche, now Prince de Conti. Coraline is now dead, as +well as a son whom she had by the count, and whom his father named +Count de Monreal. + +Madame la Dauphine was delivered of a princess, who received the +title of Madame de France. + +In the month of August the Royal Academy had an exhibition at the +Louvre, and as there was not a single battle piece I conceived the +idea of summoning my brother to Paris. He was then in Venice, and he +had great talent in that particular style. Passorelli, the only +painter of battles known in France, was dead, and I thought that +Francois might succeed and make a fortune. I therefore wrote to M. +Grimani and to my brother; I persuaded them both, but Francois did +not come to Paris till the beginning of the following year. + +Louis XV., who was passionately fond of hunting, was in the habit of +spending six weeks every year at the Chateau of Fontainebleau. He +always returned to Versailles towards the middle of November. That +trip cost him, or rather cost France, five millions of francs. He +always took with him all that could contribute to the amusement of +the foreign ambassadors and of his numerous court. He was followed +by the French and the Italian comedians, and by the actors and +actresses of the opera. + +During those six weeks Fontainebleau was more brilliant than +Versailles; nevertheless, the artists attached to the theatres were +so numerous that the Opera, the French and Italian Comedies, remained +open in Paris. + +Baletti's father, who had recovered his health, was to go to +Fontainebleau with Silvia and all his family. They invited me to +accompany them, and to accept a lodging in a house hired by them. + +It was a splendid opportunity; they were my friends, and I accepted, +for I could not have met with a better occasion to see the court and +all the foreign ministers. I presented myself to M. de Morosini, now +Procurator at St. Mark's, and then ambassador from the Republic to +the French court. + +The first night of the opera he gave me permission to accompany him; +the music was by Lulli. I had a seat in the pit precisely under the +private box of Madame de Pompadour, whom I did not know. During the +first scene the celebrated Le Maur gave a scream so shrill and so +unexpected that I thought she had gone mad. I burst into a genuine +laugh, not supposing that any one could possibly find fault with it. +But a knight of the Order of the Holy Ghost, who was near the +Marquise de Pompadour, dryly asked me what country I came from. I +answered, in the same tone, + +"From Venice." + +"I have been there, and have laughed heartily at the recitative in +your operas." + +"I believe you, sir, and I feel certain that no one ever thought of +objecting to your laughing." + +My answer, rather a sharp one, made Madame de Pompadour laugh, and +she asked me whether I truly came from down there. + +"What do you mean by down there?" + +"I mean Venice." + +"Venice, madam, is not down there, but up there." + +That answer was found more singular than the first, and everybody in +the box held a consultation in order to ascertain whether Venice was +down or up. Most likely they thought I was right, for I was left +alone. Nevertheless, I listened to the opera without laughing; but +as I had a very bad cold I blew my nose often. The same gentleman +addressing himself again to me, remarked that very likely the windows +of my room did not close well. That gentleman, who was unknown to me +was the Marechal de Richelieu. I told him he was mistaken, for my +windows were well 'calfoutrees'. Everyone in the box burst into a +loud laugh, and I felt mortified, for I knew my mistake; I ought to +have said 'calfeutrees'. But these 'eus' and 'ous' cause dire misery +to all foreigners. + +Half an hour afterwards M. de Richelieu asked me which of the two +actresses pleased me most by her beauty. + +"That one, sir." + +"But she has ugly legs." + +"They are not seen, sir; besides, whenever I examine the beauty of a +woman, 'la premiere chose que j'ecarte, ce sont les jambes'." + +That word said quite by chance, and the double meaning of which I did +not understand, made at once an important personage of me, and +everybody in the box of Madame de Pompadour was curious to know me. +The marshal learned who I was from M. de Morosini, who told me that +the duke would be happy to receive me. My 'jeu de mots' became +celebrated, and the marshal honoured me with a very gracious welcome. +Among the foreign ministers, the one to whom I attached myself most +was Lord Keith, Marshal of Scotland and ambassador of the King of +Prussia. I shall have occasion to speak of him. + +The day after my arrival in Fontainebleau I went alone to the court, +and I saw Louis XV., the handsome king, go to the chapel with the +royal family and all the ladies of the court, who surprised me by +their ugliness as much as the ladies of the court of Turin had +astonished me by their beauty. Yet in the midst of so many ugly ones +I found out a regular beauty. I enquired who she was. + +"She is," answered one of my neighbours, "Madame de Brionne, more +remarkable by her virtue even than by her beauty. Not only is there +no scandalous story told about her, but she has never given any +opportunity to scandal-mongers of inventing any adventure of which +she was the heroine." + +"Perhaps her adventures are not known." + +"Ah, monsieur! at the court everything is known." + +I went about alone, sauntering through the apartments, when suddenly +I met a dozen ugly ladies who seemed to be running rather than +walking; they were standing so badly upon their legs that they +appeared as if they would fall forward on their faces. Some +gentleman happened to be near me, curiosity impelled me to enquire +where they were coming from, and where they were going in such haste. + +"They are coming from the apartment of the queen who is going to +dine, and the reason why they walk so badly is that their shoes have +heels six inches high, which compel them to walk on their toes and +with bent knees in order to avoid falling on their faces." + +"But why do they not wear lower heels?" + +"It is the fashion." + +"What a stupid fashion!" + +I took a gallery at random, and saw the king passing along, leaning +with one arm on the shoulder of M. d'Argenson. "Oh, base servility!" +I thought to myself. "How can a man make up his mind thus to bear +the yoke, and how can a man believe himself so much above all others +as to take such unwarrantable liberties!" + +Louis XV. had the most magnificent head it was possible to see, and +he carried it with as much grace as majesty. Never did even the most +skilful painter succeed in rendering justice to the expression of +that beautiful head, when the king turned it on one side to look with +kindness at anyone. His beauty and grace compelled love at once. As +I saw him, I thought I had found the ideal majesty which I had been +so surprised not to find in the king of Sardinia, and I could not +entertain a doubt of Madame de Pompadour having been in love with the +king when she sued for his royal attention. I was greatly mistaken, +perhaps, but such a thought was natural in looking at the countenance +of Louis XV. + +I reached a splendid room in which I saw several courtiers walking +about, and a table large enough for twelve persons, but laid out only +for one. + +"For whom is this table?" + +"For the queen. Her majesty is now coming in." + +It was the queen of France, without rouge, and very simply dressed; +her head was covered with a large cap; she looked old and devout. +When she was near the table, she graciously thanked two nuns who were +placing a plate with fresh butter on it. She sat down, and +immediately the courtiers formed a semicircle within five yards of +the table; I remained near them, imitating their respectful silence. + +Her majesty began to eat without looking at anyone, keeping her eyes +on her plate. One of the dishes being to her taste, she desired to +be helped to it a second time, and she then cast her eyes round the +circle of courtiers, probably in order to see if among them there was +anyone to whom she owed an account of her daintiness. She found that +person, I suppose, for she said, + +"Monsieur de Lowendal!" + +At that name, a fine-looking man came forward with respectful +inclination, and said, + +"Your majesty?" + +"I believe this is a fricassee of chickens." + +"I am of the same opinion, madam." + +After this answer, given in the most serious tone, the queen +continued eating, and the marshal retreated backward to his original +place. The queen finished her dinner without uttering a single word, +and retired to her apartments the same way as she had come. I +thought that if such was the way the queen of France took all her +meals, I would not sue for the honour of being her guest. + +I was delighted to have seen the famous captain who had conquered +Bergen-op-Zoom, but I regretted that such a man should be compelled +to give an answer about a fricassee of chickens in the serious tone +of a judge pronouncing a sentence of death. + +I made good use of this anecdote at the excellent dinner Silvia gave +to the elite of polite and agreeable society. + +A few days afterwards, as I was forming a line with a crowd of +courtiers to enjoy the ever new pleasure of seeing the king go to +mass, a pleasure to which must be added the advantage of looking at +the naked and entirely exposed arms and bosoms of Mesdames de France, +his daughters, I suddenly perceived the Cavamacchia, whom I had left +in Cesena under the name of Madame Querini. If I was astonished to +see her, she was as much so in meeting me in such a place. The +Marquis of Saint Simon, premier 'gentilhomme' of the Prince de Conde, +escorted her. + +"Madame Querini in Fontainebleau?" + +"You here? It reminds me of Queen Elizabeth saying, + +"'Pauper ubique facet.'" + +"An excellent comparison, madam." + +"I am only joking, my dear friend; I am here to see the king, who +does not know me; but to-morrow the ambassador will present me to his +majesty." + +She placed herself in the line within a yard or two from me, beside +the door by which the king was to come. His majesty entered the +gallery with M. de Richelieu, and looked at the so-called Madame +Querini. But she very likely did not take his fancy, for, continuing +to walk on, he addressed to the marshal these remarkable words, which +Juliette must have overheard, + +"We have handsomer women here." + +In the afternoon I called upon the Venetian ambassador. I found him +in numerous company, with Madame Querini sitting on his right. She +addressed me in the most flattering and friendly manner; it was +extraordinary conduct on the part of a giddy woman who had no cause +to like me, for she was aware that I knew her thoroughly, and that I +had mastered her vanity; but as I understood her manoeuvring I made +up my mind not to disoblige her, and even to render her all the good +offices I could; it was a noble revenge. + +As she was speaking of M. Querini, the ambassador congratulated her +upon her marriage with him, saying that he was glad M. Querini had +rendered justice to her merit, and adding, + +"I was not aware of your marriage." + +"Yet it took place more than two years since," said Juliette. + +"I know it for a fact," I said, in my turn; "for, two years ago, the +lady was introduced as Madame Querini and with the title of +excellency by General Spada to all the nobility in Cesena, where I +was at that time." + +"I have no doubt of it," answered the ambassador, fixing his eyes +upon me, "for Querini has himself written to me on the subject." + +A few minutes afterwards, as I was preparing to take my leave, the +ambassador, under pretense of some letters the contents of which he +wished to communicate to me, invited me to come into his private +room, and he asked me what people generally thought of the marriage +in Venice. + +"Nobody knows it, and it is even rumoured that the heir of the house +of Querini is on the point of marrying a daughter of the Grimani +family; but I shall certainly send the news to Venice." + +"What news?" + +"That Juliette is truly Madame Querini, since your excellency will +present her as such to Louis XV." + +"Who told you so?" + +"She did." + +"Perhaps she has altered her mind." + +I repeated to the ambassador the words which the king had said to +M. de Richelieu after looking at Juliette. + +"Then I can guess," remarked the ambassador, "why Juliette does not +wish to be presented to the king." + +I was informed some time afterwards that M. de Saint Quentin, the +king's confidential minister, had called after mass on the handsome +Venetian, and had told her that the king of France had most certainly +very bad taste, because he had not thought her beauty superior to +that of several ladies of his court. Juliette left Fontainebleau the +next morning. + +In the first part of my Memoirs I have spoken of Juliette's beauty; +she had a wonderful charm in her countenance, but she had already +used her advantages too long, and her beauty was beginning to fade +when she arrived in Fontainebleau. + +I met her again in Paris at the ambassador's, and she told me with a +laugh that she had only been in jest when she called herself Madame +Querini, and that I should oblige her if for the future I would call +her by her real name of Countess Preati. She invited me to visit her +at the Hotel de Luxembourg, where she was staying. I often called on +her, for her intrigues amused me, but I was wise enough not to meddle +with them. + +She remained in Paris four months, and contrived to infatuate M. +Ranchi, secretary of the Venetian Embassy, an amiable and learned +man. He was so deeply in love that he had made up his mind to marry +her; but through a caprice which she, perhaps, regretted afterwards, +she ill-treated him, and the fool died of grief. Count de Canes. +ambassador of Maria Theresa, had some inclination for her, as well as +the Count of Zinzendorf. The person who arranged these transient and +short-lived intrigues was a certain Guasco, an abbe not over-favoured +with the gifts of Plutus. He was particularly ugly, and had to +purchase small favours with great services. + +But the man whom she really wished to marry was Count Saint Simon. +He would have married her if she had not given him false addresses to +make enquiries respecting her birth. The Preati family of Verona +denied all knowledge of her, as a matter of course, and M. de Saint +Simon, who, in spite of all his love, had not entirely lost his +senses, had the courage to abandon her. Altogether, Paris did not +prove an 'el dorado' for my handsome countrywoman, for she was +obliged to pledge her diamonds, and to leave them behind her. After +her return to Venice she married the son of the Uccelli, who sixteen +years before had taken her out of her poverty. She died ten years +ago. + +I was still taking my French lessons with my good old Crebillon; yet +my style, which was full of Italianisms, often expressed the very +reverse of what I meant to say. But generally my 'quid pro quos' +only resulted in curious jokes which made my fortune; and the best of +it is that my gibberish did me no harm on the score of wit: on the +contrary, it procured me fine acquaintances. + +Several ladies of the best society begged me to teach them Italian, +saying that it would afford them the opportunity of teaching me +French; in such an exchange I always won more than they did. + +Madame Preodot, who was one of my pupils, received me one morning; +she was still in bed, and told me that she did not feel disposed to +have a lesson, because she had taken medicine the night previous. +Foolishly translating an Italian idiom, I asked her, with an air of +deep interest, whether she had well 'decharge'? + +"Sir, what a question! You are unbearable." + +I repeated my question; she broke out angrily again. + +"Never utter that dreadful word." + +"You are wrong in getting angry; it is the proper word." + +"A very dirty word, sir, but enough about it. Will you have some +breakfast?" + +"No, I thank you. I have taken a 'cafe' and two 'Savoyards'." + +"Dear me! What a ferocious breakfast! Pray, explain yourself." + +"I say that I have drunk a cafe and eaten two Savoyards soaked in it, +and that is what I do every morning." + +"You are stupid, my good friend. A cafe is the establishment in +which coffee is sold, and you ought to say that you have drunk 'use +tasse de cafe'" + +"Good indeed! Do you drink the cup? In Italy we say a 'caffs', and +we are not foolish enough to suppose that it means the coffee-house." + +"He will have the best of it! And the two 'Savoyards', how did you +swallow them?" + +"Soaked in my coffee, for they were not larger than these on your +table." + +"And you call these 'Savoyards'? Say biscuits." + +"In Italy, we call them 'Savoyards' because they were first invented +in Savoy; and it is not my fault if you imagined that I had swallowed +two of the porters to be found at the corner of the streets--big +fellows whom you call in Paris Savoyards, although very often they +have never been in Savoy." + +Her husband came in at that moment, and she lost no time in relating +the whole of our conversation. He laughed heartily, but he said I +was right. Her niece arrived a few minutes after; she was a young +girl about fourteen years of age, reserved, modest, and very +intelligent. I had given her five or six lessons in Italian, and as +she was very fond of that language and studied diligently she was +beginning to speak. + +Wishing to pay me her compliments in Italian, she said to me, + +"'Signore, sono in cantata di vi Vader in bona salute'." + +"I thank you, mademoiselle; but to translate 'I am enchanted', you +must say 'ho pacer', and for to see you, you must say 'di vedervi'." + +"I thought, sir, that the 'vi' was to be placed before." + +"No, mademoiselle, we always put it behind." + +Monsieur and Madame Preodot were dying with laughter; the young lady +was confused, and I in despair at having uttered such a gross +absurdity; but it could not be helped. I took a book sulkily, in the +hope of putting a stop to their mirth, but it was of no use: it +lasted a week. That uncouth blunder soon got known throughout Paris, +and gave me a sort of reputation which I lost little by little, but +only when I understood the double meanings of words better. +Crebillon was much amused with my blunder, and he told me that I +ought to have said after instead of behind. Ah! why have not all +languages the same genius! But if the French laughed at my mistakes +in speaking their language, I took my revenge amply by turning some +of their idioms into ridicule. + +"Sir," I once said to a gentleman, "how is your wife?" + +"You do her great honour, sir." + +"Pray tell me, sir, what her honour has to do with her health?" + +I meet in the Bois de Boulogne a young man riding a horse which he +cannot master, and at last he is thrown. I stop the horse, run to the +assistance of the young man and help him up. + +"Did you hurt yourself, sir?" + +"Oh, many thanks, sir, au contraire." + +"Why au contraire! The deuce! It has done you good? Then begin +again, sir." + +And a thousand similar expressions entirely the reverse of good +sense. But it is the genius of the language. + +I was one day paying my first visit to the wife of President de +N----, when her nephew, a brilliant butterfly, came in, and she +introduced me to him, mentioning my name and my country. + +"Indeed, sir, you are Italian?" said the young man. "Upon my word, +you present yourself so gracefully that I would have betted you were +French." + +"Sir, when I saw you, I was near making the same mistake; I would +have betted you were Italian." + +Another time, I was dining at Lady Lambert's in numerous and +brilliant company. Someone remarked on my finger a cornelian ring on +which was engraved very beautifully the head of Louis XV. My ring +went round the table, and everybody thought that the likeness was +striking. + +A young marquise, who had the reputation of being a great wit, said +to me in the most serious tone, + +"It is truly an antique?" + +"The stone, madam, undoubtedly." + +Everyone laughed except the thoughtless young beauty, who did not +take any notice of it. Towards the end of the dinner, someone spoke +of the rhinoceros, which was then shewn for twenty-four sous at the +St. Germain's Fair. + +"Let us go and see it!" was the cry. + +We got into the carriages, and reached the fair. We took several +turns before we could find the place. I was the only gentleman; I +was taking care of two ladies in the midst of the crowd, and the +witty marquise was walking in front of us. At the end of the alley +where we had been told that we would find the animal, there was a man +placed to receive the money of the visitors. It is true that the +man, dressed in the African fashion, was very dark and enormously +stout, yet he had a human and very masculine form, and the beautiful +marquise had no business to make a mistake. Nevertheless, the +thoughtless young creature went up straight to him and said, + +"Are you the rhinoceros, sir?" + +"Go in, madam, go in." + +We were dying with laughing; and the marquise, when she had seen the +animal, thought herself bound to apologize to the master; assuring +him that she had never seen a rhinoceros in her life, and therefore +he could not feel offended if she had made a mistake. + +One evening I was in the foyer of the Italian Comedy, where between +the acts the highest noblemen were in the habit of coming, in order +to converse and joke with the actresses who used to sit there waiting +for their turn to appear on the stage, and I was seated near Camille, +Coraline's sister, whom I amused by making love to her. A young +councillor, who objected to my occupying Camille's attention, being a +very conceited fellow, attacked me upon some remark I made respecting +an Italian play, and took the liberty of shewing his bad temper by +criticizing my native country. I was answering him in an indirect +way, looking all the time at Camille, who was laughing. Everybody +had congregated around us and was attentive to the discussion, which, +being carried on as an assault of wit, had nothing to make it +unpleasant. + +But it seemed to take a serious turn when the young fop, turning the +conversation on the police of the city, said that for some time it +had been dangerous to walk alone at night through the streets of +Paris. + +"During the last month," he added, "the Place de Greve has seen the +hanging of seven men, among whom there were five Italians. An +extraordinary circumstance." + +"Nothing extraordinary in that," I answered; "honest men generally +contrive to be hung far away from their native country; and as a +proof of it, sixty Frenchmen have been hung in the course of last +year between Naples, Rome, and Venice. Five times twelve are sixty; +so you see that it is only a fair exchange." + +The laughter was all on my side, and the fine councillor went away +rather crestfallen. One of the gentlemen present at the discussion, +finding my answer to his taste, came up to Camille, and asked her in +a whisper who I was. We got acquainted at once. + +It was M. de Marigni, whom I was delighted to know for the sake of my +brother whose arrival in Paris I was expecting every day. M. de +Marigni was superintendent of the royal buildings, and the Academy of +Painting was under his jurisdiction. I mentioned my brother to him, +and he graciously promised to protect him. Another young nobleman, +who conversed with me, invited me to visit him. It was the Duke de +Matalona. + +I told him that I had seen him, then only a child, eight years before +in Naples, and that I was under great obligations to his uncle, Don +Lelio. The young duke was delighted, and we became intimate friends. + +My brother arrived in Paris in the spring of 1751, and he lodged with +me at Madame Quinson's. He began at once to work with success for +private individuals; but his main idea being to compose a picture to +be submitted to the judgment of the Academy, I introduced him to M. +de Marigni, who received him with great distinction, and encouraged +him by assuring him of his protection. He immediately set to work +with great diligence. + +M. de Morosini had been recalled, and M. de Mocenigo had succeeded +him as ambassador of the Republic. M. de Bragadin had recommended me +to him, and he tendered a friendly welcome both to me and to my +brother, in whose favour he felt interested as a Venetian, and as a +young artist seeking to build up a position by his talent. + +M. de Mocenigo was of a very pleasant nature; he liked gambling +although he was always unlucky at cards; he loved women, and he was +not more fortunate with them because he did not know how to manage +them. Two years after his arrival in Paris he fell in love with +Madame de Colande, and, finding it impossible to win her affections, +he killed himself. + +Madame la Dauphine was delivered of a prince, the Duke of Burgundy, +and the rejoicings indulged in at the birth of that child seem to me +incredible now, when I see what the same nation is doing against the +king. The people want to be free; it is a noble ambition, for +mankind are not made to be the slaves of one man; but with a nation +populous, great, witty, and giddy, what will be the end of that +revolution? Time alone can tell us. + +The Duke de Matalona procured me the acquaintance of the two princes, +Don Marc Antoine and Don Jean Baptiste Borghese, from Rome, who were +enjoying themselves in Paris, yet living without display. I had +occasion to remark that when those Roman princes were presented at +the court of France they were only styled "marquis:" It was the same +with the Russian princes, to whom the title of prince was refused +when they wanted to be presented; they were called "knees," but they +did not mind it, because that word meant prince. The court of France +has always been foolishly particular on the question of titles, and +is even now sparing of the title of monsieur, although it is common +enough everywhere every man who was not titled was called Sieur. I +have remarked that the king never addressed his bishops otherwise +than as abbes, although they were generally very proud of their +titles. The king likewise affected to know a nobleman only when his +name was inscribed amongst those who served him. + +Yet the haughtiness of Louis XV. had been innoculated into him by +education; it was not in his nature. When an ambassador presented +someone to him, the person thus presented withdrew with the certainty +of having been seen by the king, but that was all. Nevertheless, +Louis XV. was very polite, particularly with ladies, even with his +mistresses, when in public. Whoever failed in respect towards them +in the slightest manner was sure of disgrace, and no king ever +possessed to a greater extent the grand royal virtue which is called +dissimulation. He kept a secret faithfully, and he was delighted +when he knew that no one but himself possessed it. + +The Chevalier d'Eon is a proof of this, for the king alone knew and +had always known that the chevalier was a woman, and all the long +discussions which the false chevalier had with the office for foreign +affairs was a comedy which the king allowed to go on, only because it +amused him. + +Louis XV. was great in all things, and he would have had no faults if +flattery had not forced them upon him. But how could he possibly +have supposed himself faulty in anything when everyone around him +repeated constantly that he was the best of kings? A king, in the +opinion of which he was imbued respecting his own person, was a being +of a nature by far too superior to ordinary men for him not to have +the right to consider himself akin to a god. Sad destiny of kings! +Vile flatterers are constantly doing everything necessary to reduce +them below the condition of man. + +The Princess of Ardore was delivered about that time of a young +prince. Her husband, the Neapolitan ambassador, entreated Louis XV. +to be god-father to the child; the king consented and presented his +god-son with a regiment; but the mother, who did not like the +military career for her son, refused it. The Marshal de Richelieu +told me that he had never known the king laugh so heartily as when he +heard of that singular refusal. + +At the Duchess de Fulvie's I made the acquaintance of Mdlle. +Gaussin, who was called Lolotte. She was the mistress of Lord +Albemarle, the English ambassador, a witty and very generous +nobleman. One evening he complained of his mistress praising the +beauty of the stars which were shining brightly over her head, saying +that she ought to know he could not give them to her. If Lord +Albemarle had been ambassador to the court of France at the time of +the rupture between France and England, he would have arranged all +difficulties amicably, and the unfortunate war by which France lost +Canada would not have taken place. There is no doubt that the +harmony between two nations depends very often upon their respective +ambassadors, when there is any danger of a rupture. + +As to the noble lord's mistress, there was but one opinion respecting +her. She was fit in every way to become his wife, and the highest +families of France did not think that she needed the title of Lady +Albemarle to be received with distinction; no lady considered it +debasing to sit near her, although she was well known as the mistress +of the English lord. She had passed from her mother's arms to those +of Lord Albemarle at the age of thirteen, and her conduct was always +of the highest respectability. She bore children whom the ambassador +acknowledged legally, and she died Countess d'Erouville. I shall +have to mention her again in my Memoirs. + +I had likewise occasion to become acquainted at the Venetian Embassy +with a lady from Venice, the widow of an English baronet named Wynne. +She was then coming from London with her children, where she had been +compelled to go in order to insure them the inheritance of their late +father, which they would have lost if they had not declared +themselves members of the Church of England. She was on her way back +to Venice, much pleased with her journey. She was accompanied by her +eldest daughter--a young girl of twelve years, who, notwithstanding +her youth, carried on her beautiful face all the signs of perfection. + +She is now living in Venice, the widow of Count de Rosenberg, who +died in Venice ambassador of the Empress-Queen Maria Theresa. She is +surrounded by the brilliant halo of her excellent conduct and of all +her social virtues. No one can accuse her of any fault, except that +of being poor, but she feels it only because it does not allow her to +be as charitable as she might wish. + +The reader will see in the next chapter how I managed to embroil +myself with the French police. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +My Broil With Parisian Justice--Mdlle. Vesian + + +The youngest daughter of my landlady, Mdlle. Quinson, a young girl +between fifteen and sixteen years of age, was in the habit of often +coming to my room without being called. It was not long before I +discovered that she was in love with me, and I should have thought +myself ridiculous if I had been cruel to a young brunette who was +piquant, lively, amiable, and had a most delightful voice. + +During the first four or five months nothing but childish trifles +took place between us; but one night, coming home very late and +finding her fast asleep on my bed, I did not see the necessity of +waking her up, and undressing myself I lay down beside her.... She +left me at daybreak. + +Mimi had not been gone three hours when a milliner came with a +charming young girl, to invite herself and her friend to breakfast; I +thought the young girl well worth a breakfast, but I was tired and +wanted rest, and I begged them both to withdraw. Soon after they had +left me, Madame Quinson came with her daughter to make my bed. I put +my dressing-gown on, and began to write. + +"Ah! the nasty hussies!" exclaims the mother. + +"What is the matter, madam?" + +"The riddle is clear enough, sir; these sheets are spoiled." + +"I am very sorry, my dear madam, but change them, and the evil will +be remedied at once." + +She went out of the room, threatening and grumbling, + +"Let them come again, and see if I don't take care of them!" + +Mimi remained alone with me, and I addressed her some reproaches for +her imprudence. But she laughed, and answered that Love had sent +those women on purpose to protect Innocence! After that, Mimi was no +longer under any restraint, she would come and share my bed whenever +she had a fancy to do so, unless I sent her back to her own room, and +in the morning she always left me in good time. But at the end of +four months my beauty informed me that our secret would soon be +discovered. + +"I am very sorry," I said to her, "but I cannot help it." + +"We ought to think of something." + +"Well, do so." + +"What can I think of? Well, come what will; the best thing I can do +is not to think of it." + +Towards the sixth month she had become so large, that her mother, no +longer doubting the truth, got into a violent passion, and by dint of +blows compelled her to name the father. Mimi said I was the guilty +swain, and perhaps it was not an untruth. + +With that great discovery Madame Quinson burst into my room in high +dudgeon. She threw herself on a chair, and when she had recovered +her breath she loaded me with insulting words, and ended by telling +me that I must marry her daughter. At this intimation, understanding +her object and wishing to cut the matter short, I told her that I was +already married in Italy. + +"Then why did you come here and get my daughter with child?" + +"I can assure you that I did not mean to do so. Besides, how do you +know that I am the father of the child?" + +"Mimi says so, and she is certain of it." + +"I congratulate her; but I warn you, madam, that I am ready to swear +that I have not any certainty about it." + +"What then?" + +"Then nothing. If she is pregnant, she will be confined." + +She went downstairs, uttering curses and threats: the next day I was +summoned before the commissary of the district. I obeyed the +summons, and found Madame Quinson fully equipped for the battle. The +commissary, after the preliminary questions usual in all legal cases, +asked me whether I admitted myself guilty towards the girl Quinson of +the injury of which the mother, there present personally, complained. + +"Monsieur le Commissaire, I beg of you to write word by word the +answer which I am going to give you." + +"Very well." + +"I have caused no injury whatever to Mimi, the plaintiff's daughter, +and I refer you to the girl herself, who has always had as much +friendship for me as I have had for her." + +"But she declares that she is pregnant from your doings." + +"That may be, but it is not certain." + +"She says it is certain, and she swears that she has never known any +other man." + +"If it is so, she is unfortunate; for in such a question a man cannot +trust any woman but his own wife." + +"What did you give her in order to seduce her?" + +"Nothing; for very far from having seduced her, she has seduced me, +and we agreed perfectly in one moment; a pretty woman does not find +it very hard to seduce me." + +"Was she a virgin?" + +"I never felt any curiosity about it either before or after; +therefore, sir, I do not know." + +"Her mother claims reparation, and the law is against you." + +"I can give no reparation to the mother; and as for the law I will +obey it when it has been explained to me, and when I am convinced +that I have been guilty against it." + +"You are already convinced. Do you imagine that a man who gets an +honest girl with child in a house of which he is an inmate does not +transgress the laws of society?" + +"I admit that to be the case when the mother is deceived; but when +that same mother sends her daughter to the room of a young man, are +we not right in supposing that she is disposed to accept peacefully +all the accidents which may result from such conduct?" + +"She sent her daughter to your room only to wait on you." + +"And she has waited on me as I have waited on her if she sends her to +my room this evening, and if it is agreeable to Mimi, I will +certainly serve her as well as I can; but I will have nothing to do +with her against her will or out of my room, the rent of which I have +always paid punctually." + +"You may say what you like, but you must pay the fine." + +"I will say what I believe to be just, and I will pay nothing; for +there can be no fine where there is no law transgressed. If I am +sentenced to pay I shall appeal even to the last jurisdiction and +until I obtain justice, for believe me, sir, I know that I am not +such an awkward and cowardly fellow as to refuse my caresses to a +pretty woman who pleases me, and comes to provoke them in my own +room, especially when I feel myself certain of the mother's +agreement." + +I signed the interrogatory after I had read it carefully, and went +away. The next day the lieutenant of police sent for me, and after +he had heard me, as well as the mother and the daughter, he acquitted +me and condemned Madame Quinson in costs. But I could not after all +resist the tears of Mimi, and her entreaties for me to defray the +expenses of her confinement. She was delivered of a boy, who was +sent to the Hotel Dieu to be brought up at the nation's expense. +Soon afterwards Mimi ran away from her mother's house, and she +appeared on the stage at St. Laurent's Fair. Being unknown, she had +no difficulty in finding a lover who took her for a maiden. I found +her very pretty on the stage. + +"I did not know," I said to her, "that you were a musician." + +"I am a musician about as much as all my companions, not one of whom +knows a note of music. The girls at the opera are not much more +clever, and in spite of that, with a good voice and some taste, one +can sing delightfully." + +I advised her to invite Patu to supper, and he was charmed with her. +Some time afterwards, however, she came to a bad end, and +disappeared. + +The Italian comedians obtained at that time permission to perform +parodies of operas and of tragedies. I made the acquaintance at that +theatre of the celebrated Chantilly, who had been the mistress of the +Marechal de Saxe, and was called Favart because the poet of that name +had married her. She sang in the parody of 'Thetis et Pelee', by M. +de Fontelle, the part of Tonton, amidst deafening applause. Her +grace and talent won the love of a man of the greatest merit, the +Abbe de Voisenon, with whom I was as intimate as with Crebillon. All +the plays performed at the Italian Comedy, under the name of Madame +Favart, were written by the abbe, who became member of the Academie +after my departure from Paris. I cultivated an acquaintance the +value of which I could appreciate, and he honoured me with his +friendship. It was at my suggestions that the Abbe de Voisenon +conceived the idea of composing oratorios in poetry; they were sung +for the first time at the Tuileries, when the theatres were closed in +consequence of some religious festival. That amiable abbe, who had +written several comedies in secret, had very poor health and a very +small body; he was all wit and gracefulness, famous for his shrewd +repartees which, although very cutting, never offended anyone. It +was impossible for him to have any enemies, for his criticism only +grazed the skin and never wounded deeply. One day, as he was +returning from Versailles, I asked him the news of the court. + +"The king is yawning," he answered, "because he must come to the +parliament to-morrow to hold a bed of justice." + +"Why is it called a bed of justice?" + +"I do not know, unless it is because justice is asleep during the +proceedings." + +I afterwards met in Prague the living portrait of that eminent writer +in Count Francois Hardig, now plenipotentiary of the emperor at the +court of Saxony. + +The Abbe de Voisenon introduced me to Fontenelle, who was then +ninety-three years of age. A fine wit, an amiable and learned man, +celebrated for his quick repartees, Fontenelle could not pay a +compliment without throwing kindness and wit into it. I told him +that I had come from Italy on purpose to see him. + +"Confess, sir," he said to me, "that you have kept me waiting a very +long time." + +This repartee was obliging and critical at the same time, and pointed +out in a delicate and witty manner the untruth of my compliment. He +made me a present of his works, and asked me if I liked the French +plays; I told him that I had seen 'Thetis et Pelee' at the opera. +That play was his own composition, and when I had praised it, he told +me that it was a 'tete pelee'. + +"I was at the Theatre Francais last night," I said, "and saw +Athalie." + +"It is the masterpiece of Racine; Voltaire, has been wrong in +accusing me of having criticized that tragedy, and in attributing to +me an epigram, the author of which has never been known, and which +ends with two very poor lines: + + "Pour avoir fait pis qu'Esther, + Comment diable as-to pu faire" + +I have been told that M. de Fontenelle had been the tender friend of +Madame du Tencin, that M. d'Alembert was the offspring of their +intimacy, and that Le Rond had only been his foster-father. I knew +d'Alembert at Madame de Graffigny's. That great philosopher had the +talent of never appearing to be a learned man when he was in the +company of amiable persons who had no pretension to learning or +the sciences, and he always seemed to endow with intelligence those +who conversed with him. + +When I went to Paris for the second time, after my escape from The +Leads of Venice, I was delighted at the idea of seeing again the +amiable, venerable Fontenelle, but he died a fortnight after my +arrival, at the beginning of the year 1757. + +When I paid my third visit to Paris with the intention of ending my +days in that capital, I reckoned upon the friendship of +M. d'Alembert, but he died, like Fontenelle, a fortnight after my +arrival, towards the end of 1783. Now I feel that I have seen Paris +and France for the last time. The popular effervescence has +disgusted me, and I am too old to hope to see the end of it. + +Count de Looz, Polish ambassador at the French court, invited me in +1751 to translate into Italian a French opera susceptible of great +transformations, and of having a grand ballet annexed to the subject +of the opera itself. I chose 'Zoroastre', by M. de Cahusac. I had +to adapt words to the music of the choruses, always a difficult task. +The music remained very beautiful, of course, but my Italian poetry +was very poor. In spite of that the generous sovereign sent me a +splendid gold snuff-box, and I thus contrived at the same time to +please my mother very highly. + +It was about that time that Mdlle. Vesian arrived in Paris with her +brother. She was quite young, well educated, beautiful, most +amiable, and a novice; her brother accompanied her. Her father, +formerly an officer in the French army, had died at Parma, his native +city. Left an orphan without any means of support, she followed the +advice given by her friends; she sold the furniture left by her +father, with the intention of going to Versailles to obtain from the +justice and from the generosity of the king a small pension to enable +her to live. As she got out of the diligence, she took a coach, and +desired to be taken to some hotel close by the Italian Theatre; by +the greatest chance she was brought to the Hotel de Bourgogne, where +I was then staying myself. + +In the morning I was told that there were two young Italians, brother +and sister, who did not appear very wealthy, in the next room to +mine. Italians, young, poor and newly arrived, my curiosity was +excited. I went to the door of their room, I knocked, and a young +man came to open it in his shirt. + +"I beg you to excuse me, sir," he said to me, "if I receive you in +such a state." + +"I have to ask your pardon myself. I only come to offer you my +services, as a countryman and as a neighbour." + +A mattress on the floor told me where the young man had slept; a bed +standing in a recess and hid by curtains made me guess where the +sister was. I begged of her to excuse me if I had presented myself +without enquiring whether she was up. + +She answered without seeing me, that the journey having greatly tried +her she had slept a little later than usual, but that she would get +up immediately if I would excuse her for a short time. + +"I am going to my room, mademoiselle, and I will come back when you +send for me; my room is next door to your own." + +A quarter of an hour after, instead of being sent for, I saw a young +and beautiful person enter my room; she made a modest bow, saying +that she had come herself to return my visit, and that her brother +would follow her immediately. + +I thanked her for her visit, begged her to be seated, and I expressed +all the interest I felt for her. Her gratitude shewed itself more by +the tone of her voice than by her words, and her confidence being +already captivated she told me artlessly, but not without some +dignity, her short history or rather her situation, and she concluded +by these words: + +"I must in the course of the day find a less expensive lodging, for I +only possess six francs." + +I asked her whether she had any letters of recommendation, and she +drew out of her pocket a parcel of papers containing seven or eight +testimonials of good conduct and honesty, and a passport. + +"Is this all you have, my dear countrywoman?" + +"Yes. I intend to call with my brother upon the secretary of war, and +I hope he will take pity on me." + +"You do not know anybody here?" + +"Not one person, sir; you are the first man in France to whom I have +exposed my situation." + +"I am a countryman of yours, and you are recommended to me by your +position as well as by your age; I wish to be your adviser, if you +will permit me." + +"Ah, sir! how grateful I would be!" + +"Do not mention it. Give me your papers, I will see what is to be +done with them. Do not relate your history to anyone, and do not say +one word about your position. You had better remain at this hotel. +Here are two Louis which I will lend you until you are in a position +to return them to me." + +She accepted, expressing her heart-felt gratitude. + +Mademoiselle Vesian was an interesting brunette of sixteen. She had +a good knowledge of French and Italian, graceful manners, and a +dignity which endowed her with a very noble appearance. She informed +me of her affairs without meanness, yet without that timidity which +seems to arise from a fear of the person who listens being disposed +to take advantage of the distressing position confided to his honour. +She seemed neither humiliated nor bold; she had hope, and she did not +boast of her courage. Her virtue was by no means ostentatious, but +there was in her an air of modesty which would certainly have put a +restraint upon anyone disposed to fail in respect towards her. I +felt the effect of it myself, for in spite of her beautiful eyes, her +fine figure, of the freshness of her complexion, her transparent +skin, her negligee--in one word, all that can tempt a man and which +filled me with burning desires, I did not for one instant lose +control over myself; she had inspired me with a feeling of respect +which helped me to master my senses, and I promised myself not only +to attempt nothing against her virtue, but also not to be the first +man to make her deviate from the right path. I even thought it +better to postpone to another interview a little speech on that +subject, the result of which might be to make me follow a different +course. + +"You are now in a city," I said to her, "in which your destiny must +unfold itself, and in which all the fine qualities which nature has +so bountifully bestowed upon you, and which may ultimately cause your +fortune, may likewise cause your ruin; for here, by dear +countrywoman, wealthy men despise all libertine women except those +who have offered them the sacrifice of their virtue. If you are +virtuous, and are determined upon remaining so, prepare yourself to +bear a great deal of misery; if you feel yourself sufficiently above +what is called prejudice, if, in one word, you feel disposed to +consent to everything, in order to secure a comfortable position, be +very careful not to make a mistake. Distrust altogether the sweet +words which every passionate man will address to you for the sake of +obtaining your favours, for, his passion once satisfied, his ardour +will cool down, and you will find yourself deceived. Be wary of your +adorers; they will give you abundance of counterfeit coin, but do not +trust them far. As far as I am concerned, I feel certain that I +shall never injure you, and I hope to be of some use to you. To +reassure you entirely on my account, I will treat you as if you were +my sister, for I am too young to play the part of your father, and I +would not tell you all this if I did not think you a very charming +person." + +Her brother joined us as we were talking together. He was a good- +looking young man of eighteen, well made, but without any style about +him; he spoke little, and his expression was devoid of individuality. +We breakfasted together, and having asked him as we were at table for +what profession he felt an inclination, he answered that he was +disposed to do anything to earn an honourable living. + +"Have you any peculiar talent?" + +"I write pretty well." + +"That is something. When you go out, mistrust everybody; do not +enter any cafe, and never speak to anyone in the streets. Eat your +meals in your room with your sister, and tell the landlady to give +you a small closet to sleep in. Write something in French to-day, +let me have it to-morrow morning, and we will see what can be done. +As for you, mademoiselle, my books are at your disposal, I have your +papers; to-morrow I may have some news to tell you; we shall not see +each other again to-day, for I generally come home very late." She +took a few books, made a modest reverence, and told me with a +charming voice that she had every confidence in me. + +Feeling disposed to be useful to her, wherever I went during that day +I spoke of nothing but of her and of her affairs; and everywhere men +and women told me that if she was pretty she could not fail, but that +at all events it would be right for her to take all necessary steps. +I received a promise that the brother should be employed in some +office. I thought that the best plan would be to find some +influential lady who would consent to present Mdlle. Vesian to +M. d'Argenson, and I knew that in the mean time I could support her. +I begged Silvia to mention the matter to Madame de Montconseil, who +had very great influence with the secretary of war. She promised to +do so, but she wished to be acquainted with the young girl. + +I returned to the hotel towards eleven o'clock, and seeing that there +was a light still burning in the room of Mdlle. Vesian I knocked at +her door. She opened it, and told me that she had sat up in the hope +of seeing me. I gave her an account of what I had done. I found her +disposed to undertake all that was necessary, and most grateful for +my assistance. She spoke of her position with an air of noble +indifference which she assumed in order to restrain her tears; she +succeeded in keeping them back, but the moisture in her eyes proved +all the efforts she was making to prevent them from falling. We had +talked for two hours, and going from one subject to another I learned +that she had never loved, and that she was therefore worthy of a +lover who would reward her in a proper manner for the sacrifice of +her virtue. It would have been absurd to think that marriage was to +be the reward of that sacrifice; the young girl had not yet made what +is called a false step, but she had none of the prudish feelings of +those girls who say that they would not take such a step for all the +gold in the universe, and usually give way before the slightest +attack; all my young friend wanted was to dispose of herself in a +proper and advantageous manner. + +I could not help sighing as I listened to her very sensible remarks, +considering the position in which she was placed by an adverse +destiny. Her sincerity was charming to me; I was burning with +desire. Lucie of Pasean came back to my memory; I recollected how +deeply I had repented the injury I had done in neglecting a sweet +flower, which another man, and a less worthy one, had hastened to +pluck; I felt myself near a lamb which would perhaps become the prey +of some greedy wolf; and she, with her noble feelings, her careful +education, and a candour which an impure breath would perhaps destroy +for ever, was surely not destined for a lot of shame. I regretted I +was not rich enough to make her fortune, and to save her honour and +her virtue. I felt that I could neither make her mine in an +illegitimate way nor be her guardian angel, and that by becoming her +protector I should do her more harm than good; in one word, instead +of helping her out of the unfortunate position in which she was, I +should, perhaps, only contribute to her entire ruin. During that +time I had her near me, speaking to her in a sentimental way, and not +uttering one single word of love; but I kissed her hand and her arms +too often without coming to a resolution, without beginning a thing +which would have too rapidly come to an end, and which would have +compelled me to keep her for myself; in that case, there would have +been no longer any hope of a fortune for her, and for me no means of +getting rid of her. I have loved women even to madness, but I have +always loved liberty better; and whenever I have been in danger of +losing it fate has come to my rescue. + +I had remained about four hours with Mdlle. Vesian, consumed by the +most intense desires, and I had had strength enough to conquer them. +She could not attribute my reserve to a feeling of modesty, and not +knowing why I did not shew more boldness she must have supposed that +I was either ill or impotent. I left her, after inviting her to +dinner for the next day. + +We had a pleasant dinner, and her brother having gone out for a walk +after our meal we looked together out of the window from which we +could see all the carriages going to the Italian Comedy. I asked her +whether she would like to go; she answered me with a smile of +delight, and we started at once. + +I placed her in the amphitheatre where I left her, telling her that +we would meet at the hotel at eleven o'clock. I would not remain +with her, in order to avoid the questions which would have been +addressed to me, for the simpler her toilet was the more interesting +she looked. + +After I had left the theatre, I went to sup at Silvia's and returned +to the hotel. I was surprised at the sight of an elegant carriage; I +enquired to whom it belonged, and I was told that it was the carriage +of a young nobleman who had supped with Mdlle. Vesian. She was +getting on. + +The first thing next morning, as I was putting my head out of the +window, I saw a hackney coach stop at the door of the hotel; a young +man, well dressed in a morning costume, came out of it, and a minute +after I heard him enter the room of Mdlle. Vesian. Courage! I had +made up my mind; I affected a feeling of complete indifference in +order to deceive myself. + +I dressed myself to go out, and while I was at my toilet Vesian came +in and told me that he did not like to go into his sister's room +because the gentleman who had supped with her had just arrived. + +"That's a matter of course," I said. + +"He is rich and very handsome. He wishes to take us himself to +Versailles, and promises to procure some employment for me." + +"I congratulate you. Who is he?" + +"I do not know." + +I placed in an envelope the papers she had entrusted to me, and I +handed them to him to return to his sister. I then went out. When I +came home towards three o'clock, the landlady gave me a letter which +had been left for me by Mdlle. Vesian, who had left the hotel. + +I went to my room, opened the letter, and read the following lines: + +"I return the money you have lent me with my best thanks. The Count +de Narbonne feels interested in me, and wishes to assist me and my +brother. I shall inform you of everything, of the house in which he +wishes me to go and live, where he promises to supply me all I want. +Your friendship is very dear to me, and I entreat you not to forget +me. My brother remains at the hotel, and my room belongs to me for +the month. I have paid everything." + +"Here is," said I to myself, "a second Lucie de Pasean, and I am a +second time the dupe of my foolish delicacy, for I feel certain that +the count will not make her happy. But I wash my hands of it all." + +I went to the Theatre Francais in the evening, and enquired about +Narbonne. The first person I spoke to told me, + +"He is the son of a wealthy man, but a great libertine and up to his +neck in debts." + +Nice references, indeed! For a week I went to all the theatres and +public places in the hope of making the acquaintance of the count, +but I could not succeed, and I was beginning to forget the adventure +when one morning, towards eight o'clock Vesian calling on me, told me +that his sister was in her room and wished to speak to me. I +followed him immediately. I found her looking unhappy and with eyes +red from crying. She told her brother to go out for a walk, and when +he had gone she spoke to me thus: + +"M. de Narbonne, whom I thought an honest man, because I wanted him +to be such, came to sit by me where you had left me at the theatre; +he told me that my face had interested him, and he asked me who I +was. I told him what I had told you. You had promised to think of +me, but Narbonne told me that he did not want your assistance, as he +could act by himself. I believed him, and I have been the dupe of my +confidence in him; he has deceived me; he is a villain." + +The tears were choking her: I went to the window so as to let her cry +without restraint: a few minutes after, I came back and I sat down by +her. + +"Tell me all, my dear Vesian, unburden your heart freely, and do not +think yourself guilty towards me; in reality I have been wrong more +than you. Your heart would not now be a prey to sorrow if I had not +been so imprudent as to leave you alone at the theatre." + +"Alas, sir! do not say so; ought I to reproach you because you +thought me so virtuous? Well, in a few words, the monster promised +to shew me every care, every attention, on condition of my giving him +an undeniable, proof of my affection and confidence--namely, to take +a lodging without my brother in the house of a woman whom he +represented as respectable. He insisted upon my brother not living +with me, saying that evil-minded persons might suppose him to be my +lover. I allowed myself to be persuaded. Unhappy creature! How +could I give way without consulting you? He told me that the +respectable woman to whom he would take me would accompany me to +Versailles, and that he would send my brother there so that we should +be both presented to the war secretary. After our first supper he +told me that he would come and fetch me in a hackney coach the next +morning. He presented me with two louis and a gold watch, and I +thought I could accept those presents from a young nobleman who +shewed so much interest in me. The woman to whom he introduced me +did not seem to me as respectable as he had represented her to be. +I have passed one week with her without his doing anything to benefit +my position. He would come, go out, return as he pleased, telling me +every day that it would be the morrow, and when the morrow came there +was always some impediment. At last, at seven o'clock this morning, +the woman told me that the count was obliged to go into the country, +that a hackney coach would bring me back to his hotel, and that he +would come and see me on his return. Then, affecting an air of +sadness, she told me that I must give her back the watch because the +count had forgotten to pay the watchmaker for it. I handed it to her +immediately without saying a word, and wrapping the little I +possessed in my handkerchief I came back here, where I arrived half +an hour since." + +"Do you hope to see him on his return from the country?" + +"To see him again! Oh, Lord! why have I ever seen him?" + +She was crying bitterly, and I must confess that no young girl ever +moved me so deeply as she did by the expression of her grief. Pity +replaced in my heart the tenderness I had felt for her a week before. +The infamous proceedings of Narbonne disgusted me to that extent +that, if I had known where to find him alone, I would immediately +have compelled him to give me reparation. Of course, I took good +care not to ask the poor girl to give me a detailed account of her +stay in the house of Narbonne's respectable procurers; I could guess +even more than I wanted to know, and to insist upon that recital +would have humiliated Mdlle. Vesian. I could see all the infamy of +the count in the taking back of the watch which belonged to her as a +gift, and which the unhappy girl had earned but too well. I did all +I could to dry her tears, and she begged me to be a father to her, +assuring me that she would never again do anything to render her +unworthy of my friendship, and that she would always be guided by my +advice. + +"Well, my dear young friend, what you must do now is not only to +forget the unworthy count and his criminal conduct towards you, but +also the fault of which you have been guilty. What is done cannot be +undone, and the past is beyond remedy; but compose yourself, and +recall the air of cheerfulness which shone on your countenance a week +ago. Then I could read on your face honesty, candour, good faith, +and the noble assurance which arouses sentiment in those who can +appreciate its charm. You must let all those feelings shine again on +your features; for they alone can interest honest people, and you +require the general sympathy more than ever. My friendship is of +little importance to you, but you may rely upon it all the more +because I fancy that you have now a claim upon it which you had not a +week ago: Be quite certain, I beg, that I will not abandon you until +your position is properly settled. I cannot at present tell you +more; but be sure that I will think of you." + +"Ah, my friend! if you promise to think of me, I ask for no more. +Oh! unhappy creature that I am; there is not a soul in the world who +thinks of me." + +She was: so deeply moved that she fainted away. I came to her +assistance without calling anyone, and when she had recovered her +consciousness and some calm, I told her a hundred stories, true or +purely imaginary, of the knavish tricks played in Paris by men who +think of nothing but of deceiving young girls. I told her a few +amusing instances in order to make her more cheerful, and at last I +told her that she ought to be thankful for what had happened to her +with Narbonne, because that misfortune would give her prudence for +the future. + +During that long tete-a-tete I had no difficulty in abstaining from +bestowing any caresses upon her; I did not even take her hand, for +what I felt for her was a tender pity; and I was very happy when at +the end of two hours I saw her calm and determined upon bearing +misfortune like a heroine. + +She suddenly rose from her seat, and, looking at me with an air of +modest trustfulness, she said to me, + +"Are, you particularly engaged in any way to-day?" + +"No, my dear:" + +"Well, then, be good enough to take me somewhere out of Paris; to +some place where I can breathe the fresh air freely; I shall then +recover that appearance which you think I must have to interest in my +favour those who will see me; and if I can enjoy a quiet sleep +throughout the next night I feel I shall be happy again." + +"I am grateful to you for your confidence in me. We will go out as +soon as I am dressed. Your brother will return in the mean time." + +"Oh, never mind my brother!" + +"His presence is, on the contrary, of great importance. Recollect, +my dear Vesian, you must make Narbonne ashamed of his own conduct. +You must consider that if he should happen to hear that, on the very +day he abandoned you, you went into the country alone with me, he +would triumph, and would certainly say that he has only treated you +as you deserved. But if you go with your brother and me your +countryman, you give no occasion for slander." + +"I blush not to have made that remark myself. We will wait for my +brother's return." + +He was not long in coming back, and having sent for a coach we were +on the point of going, when Baletti called on me. I introduced him +to the young lady, and invited him to join our party. He accepted, +and we started. As my only purpose was to amuse Mdlle. Vesian, I +told the coachman to drive us to the Gros Caillou, where we made an +excellent impromptu dinner, the cheerfulness of the guests making up +for the deficiencies of the servants. + +Vesian, feeling his head rather heavy, went out for a walk after +dinner, and I remained alone with his sister and my friend Baletti. +I observed with pleasure that Baletti thought her an agreeable girl, +and it gave me the idea of asking him to teach her dancing. I +informed him of her position, of the reason which had brought her to +Paris, of the little hope there was of her obtaining a pension from +the king, and of the necessity there was for her to do something to +earn a living. Baletti answered that he would be happy to do +anything, and when he had examined the figure and the general +conformation of the young girl he said to her, + +"I will get Lani to take you for the ballet at the opera." + +"Then," I said, "you must begin your lessons tomorrow. Mdlle. Vesian +stops at my hotel." + +The young girl, full of wonder at my plan, began to laugh heartily, +and said, + +"But can an opera dancer be extemporized like a minister of state? +I can dance the minuet, and my ear is good enough to enable me to go +through a quadrille; but with the exception of that I cannot dance +one step." + +"Most of the ballet girls," said Baletti, "know no more than you do." + +"And how much must I ask from M. Lani? I do not think I can expect +much." + +"Nothing. The ballet girls are not paid." + +"Then where is the advantage for me?" she said, with a sigh; "how +shall I live?" + +"Do not think of that. Such as you are, you will soon find ten +wealthy noblemen who will dispute amongst themselves for the honour +of making up for the absence of salary. You have only to make a good +choice, and I am certain that it will not be long before we see you +covered with diamonds." + +"Now I understand you. You suppose some great lord will keep me?" + +"Precisely; and that will be much better than a pension of four +hundred francs, which you would, perhaps, not obtain without making +the same sacrifice." + +Very much surprised, she looked at me to ascertain whether I was +serious or only jesting. + +Baletti having left us, I told her it was truly the best thing she +could do, unless she preferred the sad position of waiting-maid to +some grand lady. + +"I would not be the 'femme de chambre' even of the queen." + +"And 'figurante' at the opera?" + +"Much rather." + +"You are smiling?" + +"Yes, for it is enough to make me laugh. I the mistress of a rich +nobleman, who will cover me with diamonds! Well, I mean to choose +the oldest." + +"Quite right, my dear; only do not make him jealous." + +"I promise you to be faithful to him. But shall he find a situation +for my brother? However, until I am at the opera, until I have met +with my elderly lover, who will give me the means to support myself?" + +"I, my dear girl, my friend Baletti, and all my friends, without +other interest than the pleasure of serving you, but with the hope +that you will live quietly, and that we shall contribute to your +happiness. Are you satisfied?" + +"Quite so; I have promised myself to be guided entirely by your +advice, and I entreat you to remain always my best friend." + +We returned to Paris at night, I left Mdlle. Vesian at the hotel, and +accompanied Baletti to his mother's. At supper-time, my friend +begged Silvia to speak to M. Lani in favour of our 'protegee', Silvia +said that it was a much better plan than to solicit a miserable +pension which, perhaps, would not be granted. Then we talked of a +project which was then spoken of, namely to sell all the appointments +of ballet girls and of chorus singers at the opera. There was even +some idea of asking a high price for them, for it was argued that the +higher the price the more the girls would be esteemed. Such a +project, in the midst of the scandalous habits and manners of the +time, had a sort of apparent wisdom; for it would have ennobled in a +way a class of women who with very few exceptions seem to glory in +being contemptible. + +There were, at that time at the opera, several figurantes, singers +and dancers, ugly rather than plain, without any talent, who, in +spite of it all, lived in great comfort; for it is admitted that at +the opera a girl must needs renounce all modesty or starve. But if a +girl, newly arrived there, is clever enough to remain virtuous only +for one month, her fortune is certainly made, because then the +noblemen enjoying a reputation of wisdom and virtue are the only ones +who seek to get hold of her. Those men are delighted to hear their +names mentioned in connection with the newly-arrived beauty; they +even go so far as to allow her a few frolics, provided she takes +pride in what they give her, and provided her infidelities are not +too public. Besides, it is the fashion never to go to sup with one's +mistress without giving her notice of the intended visit, and +everyone must admit that it is a very wise custom. + +I came back to the hotel towards eleven o'clock, and seeing that +Mdlle. Vesian's room was still open I went in. She was in bed. + +"Let me get up," she said, "for I want to speak to you." + +"Do not disturb yourself; we can talk all the same, and I think you +much prettier as you are." + +"I am very glad of it." + +"What have you got to tell me?" + +"Nothing, except to speak of the profession I am going to adopt. +I am going to practice virtue in order to find a man who loves it +only to destroy it." + +"Quite true; but almost everything is like that in this life. Man +always refers everything to himself, and everyone is a tyrant in his +own way. I am pleased to see you becoming a philosopher." + +"How can one become a philosopher?" + +"By thinking." + +"Must one think a long while?" + +"Throughout life." + +"Then it is never over?" + +"Never; but one improves as much as possible, and obtains the sum of +happiness which one is susceptible of enjoying." + +"And how can that happiness be felt?" + +"By all the pleasure which the philosopher can procure when he is +conscious of having obtained them by his own exertions, and +especially by getting rid of the many prejudices which make of the +majority of men a troop of grown-up children." + +"What is pleasure? What is meant by prejudices?" + +"Pleasure is the actual enjoyment of our senses; it is a complete +satisfaction given to all our natural and sensual appetites; and, +when our worn-out senses want repose, either to have breathing time, +or to recover strength, pleasure comes from the imagination, which +finds enjoyment in thinking of the happiness afforded by rest. The +philosopher is a person who refuses no pleasures which do not produce +greater sorrows, and who knows how to create new ones." + +"And you say that it is done by getting rid of prejudices? Then tell +me what prejudices are, and what must be done to get rid of them." + +"Your question, my dear girl, is not an easy one to answer, for moral +philosophy does not know a more important one, or a more difficult +one to decide; it is a lesson which lasts throughout life. I will +tell you in a few words that we call prejudice every so-called duty +for the existence of which we find no reason in nature." + +"Then nature must be the philosopher's principal study?" + +"Indeed it is; the most learned of philosophers is the one who +commits the fewest errors." + +"What philosopher, in your opinion, has committed the smallest +quantity of errors?" + +"Socrates." + +"Yet he was in error sometimes?" + +"Yes, in metaphysics." + +"Oh! never mind that, for I think he could very well manage without +that study." + +"You are mistaken; morals are only the metaphysics of physics; nature +is everything, and I give you leave to consider as a madman whoever +tells you that he has made a new discovery in metaphysics. But if I +went on, my dear, I might appear rather obscure to you. Proceed +slowly, think; let your maxims be the consequence of just reasoning, +and keep your happiness in view; in the end you must be happy." + +"I prefer the lesson you have just taught me to the one which M. +Baletti will give me to-morrow; for I have an idea that it will weary +me, and now I am much interested." + +"How do you know that you are interested?" + +"Because I wish you not to leave me." + +"Truly, my dear Vesian, never has a philosopher described sympathy +better than you have just done. How happy I feel! How is it that I +wish to prove it by kissing you?" + +"No doubt because, to be happy, the soul must agree with the senses." + +"Indeed, my divine Vesian? Your intelligence is charming." + +"It is your work, dear friend; and I am so grateful to you that I +share your desires." + +"What is there to prevent us from satisfying such natural desires? +Let us embrace one another tenderly." + +What a lesson in philosophy! It seemed to us such a sweet one, our +happiness was so complete, that at daybreak we were still kissing one +another, and it was only when we parted in the morning that we +discovered that the door of the room had remained open all night. + +Baletti gave her a few lessons, and she was received at the opera; +but she did not remain there more than two or three months, +regulating her conduct carefully according to the precepts I had laid +out for her. She never received Narbonne again, and at last accepted +a nobleman who proved himself very different from all others, for the +first thing he did was to make her give up the stage, although it was +not a thing according to the fashion of those days. I do not +recollect his name exactly; it was Count of Tressan or Trean. She +behaved in a respectable way, and remained with him until his death. +No one speaks of her now, although she is living in very easy +circumstances; but she is fifty-six, and in Paris a woman of that age +is no longer considered as being among the living. + +After she left the Hotel de Bourgogne, I never spoke to her. +Whenever I met her covered with jewels and diamonds, our souls +saluted each other with joy, but her happiness was too precious for +me to make any attempt against it. Her brother found a situation, +but I lost sight of him. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +The Beautiful O-Morphi--The Deceitful Painter--I Practice Cabalism +for the Duchess de Chartres I Leave Paris--My Stay in Dresden and My +Departure from that City + + +I went to St. Lawrence's Fair with my friend Patu, who, taking it +into his head to sup with a Flemish actress known by the name of +Morphi, invited me to go with him. I felt no inclination for the +girl, but what can we refuse to a friend? I did as he wished. After +we had supped with the actress, Patu fancied a night devoted to a +more agreeable occupation, and as I did not want to leave him I asked +for a sofa on which I could sleep quietly during the night. + +Morphi had a sister, a slovenly girl of thirteen, who told me that if +I would give her a crown she would abandon her bed to me. I agreed +to her proposal, and she took me to a small closet where I found a +straw palliasse on four pieces of wood. + +"Do you call this a bed, my child?" + +"I have no other, sir." + +"Then I do not want it, and you shall not have the crown." + +"Did you intend undressing yourself?" + +"Of course." + +"What an idea! There are no sheets." + +"Do you sleep with your clothes on?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Well, then, go to bed as usual, and you shall have the crown." + +"Why?" + +"I want to see you undressed." + +"But you won't do anything to me?" + +"Not the slightest thing." + +She undressed, laid herself on her miserable straw bed, and covered +herself with an old curtain. In that state, the impression made by +her dirty tatters disappeared, and I only saw a perfect beauty. But +I wanted to see her entirely. I tried to satisfy my wishes, she +opposed some resistance, but a double crown of six francs made her +obedient, and finding that her only fault was a complete absence of +cleanliness, I began to wash her with my own hands. + +You will allow me, dear reader, to suppose that you possess a simple +and natural knowledge, namely, that admiration under such +circumstances is inseparable from another kind of approbation; +luckily, I found the young Morphi disposed to let me do all I +pleased, except the only thing for which I did not care! She told me +candidly that she would not allow me to do that one thing, because in +her sister's estimation it was worth twenty-five louis. I answered +that we would bargain on that capital point another time, but that we +would not touch it for the present. Satisfied with what I said, all +the rest was at my disposal, and I found in her a talent which had +attained great perfection in spite of her precocity. + +The young Helene faithfully handed to her sister the six francs I had +given her, and she told her the way in which she had earned them. +Before I left the house she told me that, as she was in want of +money, she felt disposed to make some abatement on the price of +twenty-five louis. I answered with a laugh that I would see her +about it the next day. I related the whole affair to Patu, who +accused me of exaggeration; and wishing to prove to him that I was a +real connoisseur of female beauty I insisted upon his seeing Helene +as I had seen her. He agreed with me that the chisel of Praxiteles +had never carved anything more perfect. As white as a lily, Helene +possessed all the beauties which nature and the art of the painter +can possibly combine. The loveliness of her features was so heavenly +that it carried to the soul an indefinable sentiment of ecstacy, a +delightful calm. She was fair, but her beautiful blue eyes equalled +the finest black eyes in brilliance. + +I went to see her the next evening, and, not agreeing about the +price, I made a bargain with her sister to give her twelve francs +every time I paid her a visit, and it was agreed that we would occupy +her room until I should make up my mind to pay six hundred francs. +It was regular usury, but the Morphi came from a Greek race, and was +above prejudices. I had no idea of giving such a large sum, because +I felt no wish to obtain what it would have procured me; what I +obtained was all I cared for. + +The elder sister thought I was duped, for in two months I had paid +three hundred francs without having done anything, and she attributed +my reserve to avarice. Avarice, indeed! I took a fancy to possess a +painting of that beautiful body, and a German artist painted it for +me splendidly for six louis. The position in which he painted it was +delightful. She was lying on her stomach, her arms and her bosom +leaning on a pillow, and holding her head sideways as if she were +partly on the back. The clever and tasteful artist had painted her +nether parts with so much skill and truth that no one could have +wished for anything more beautiful; I was delighted with that +portrait; it was a speaking likeness, and I wrote under it, +"O-Morphi," not a Homeric word, but a Greek one after all, and +meaning beautiful. + +But who can anticipate the wonderful and secret decrees of destiny! +My friend Patu wished to have a copy of that portrait; one cannot +refuse such a slight service to a friend, and I gave an order for it +to the same painter. But the artist, having been summoned to +Versailles, shewed that delightful painting with several others, and +M. de St. Quentin found it so beautiful that he lost no time in +shewing it the king. His Most Christian Majesty, a great connoisseur +in that line, wished to ascertain with his own eyes if the artist had +made a faithful copy; and in case the original should prove as +beautiful as the copy, the son of St. Louis knew very well what to do +with it. + +M. de St. Quentin, the king's trusty friend, had the charge of that +important affair; it was his province: He enquired from the painter +whether the original could be brought to Versailles, and the artist, +not supposing there would be any difficulty, promised to attend to +it. + +He therefore called on me to communicate the proposal; I thought it +was delightful, and I immediately told the sister, who jumped for +joy. She set to work cleaning, washing and clothing the young +beauty, and two or three days after they went to Versailles with the +painter to see what could be done. M. de St. Quentin's valet, +having received his instructions from his master, took the two +females to a pavilion in the park, and the painter went to the hotel +to await the result of his negotiation. Half an hour afterwards the +king entered the pavilion alone, asked the young O-Morphi if she was +a Greek woman, took the portrait out of his pocket, and after a +careful examination exclaimed, + +"I have never seen a better likeness." + +His majesty then sat down, took the young girl on his knees, bestowed +a few caresses on her, and having ascertained with his royal hand +that the fruit had not yet been plucked, he gave her a kiss. + +O-Morphi was looking attentively at her master, and smiled. + +"What are you laughing at?" said the king. + +"I laugh because you and a crown of six francs are as like as two +peas." + +That naivete made the king laugh heartily, and he asked her whether +she would like to remain in Versailles. + +"That depends upon my sister," answered the child. + +But the sister hastened to tell the king that she could not aspire to +a greater honour. The king locked them up again in the pavilion and +went away, but in less than a quarter of an hour St. Quentin came to +fetch them, placed the young girl in an apartment under the care of a +female attendant, and with the sister he went to meet at the hotel +the German artist to whom he gave fifty Louis for the portrait, and +nothing to Morphi. He only took her address, promising her that she +would soon hear from him; the next day she received one thousand +Louis. The worthy German gave me twenty-five louis for my portrait, +with a promise to make a careful copy of the one I had given to Patu, +and he offered to paint for me gratuitously the likeness of every +girl of whom I might wish to keep a portrait. + +I enjoyed heartily the pleasure of the good Fleeting, when she found +herself in possession of the thousand gold pieces which she had +received. Seeing herself rich, and considering me as the author of +her fortune, she did not know how to shew me her gratitude. + +The young and lovely O-Morphi--for the king always called her by that +name--pleased the sovereign by her simplicity and her pretty ways +more even than by her rare beauty--the most perfect, the most +regular, I recollect to have ever seen. He placed her in one of the +apartments of his Parc-dux-cerfs--the voluptuous monarch's harem, in +which no one could get admittance except the ladies presented at the +court. At the end of one year she gave birth to a son who went, like +so many others, God knows where! for as long as Queen Mary lived no +one ever knew what became of the natural children of Louis XV. + +O-Morphi fell into disgrace at the end of three years, but the king, +as he sent her away, ordered her to receive a sum of four hundred +thousand francs which she brought as a dowry to an officer from +Britanny. In 1783, happening to be in Fontainebleau, I made the +acquaintance of a charming young man of twenty-five, the offspring of +that marriage and the living portrait of his mother, of the history +of whom he had not the slightest knowledge, and I thought it my duty +not to enlighten him. I wrote my name on his tablets, and I begged +him to present my compliments to his mother. + +A wicked trick of Madame de Valentinois, sister-in-law of the Prince +of Monaco, was the cause of O-Morphi's disgrace. That lady, who was +well known in Paris, told her one day that, if she wished to make the +king very merry, she had only to ask him how he treated his old wife. +Too simple to guess the snare thus laid out for her, O-Morphi +actually asked that impertinent question; but Louis XV. gave her a +look of fury, and exclaimed, + +"Miserable wretch! who taught you to address me that question?" + +The poor O-Morphi, almost dead with fright, threw herself on her +knees, and confessed the truth. + +The king left her and never would see her again. The Countess de +Valentinois was exiled for two years from the court. Louis XV., who +knew how wrongly he was behaving towards his wife as a husband, would +not deserve any reproach at her hands as a king, and woe to anyone +who forgot the respect due to the queen! + +The French are undoubtedly the most witty people in Europe, and +perhaps in the whole world, but Paris is, all the same, the city for +impostors and quacks to make a fortune. When their knavery is found +out people turn it into a joke and laugh, but in the midst of the +merriment another mountebank makes his appearance, who does something +more wonderful than those who preceded him, and he makes his fortune, +whilst the scoffing of the people is in abeyance. It is the +unquestionable effects of the power which fashion has over that +amiable, clever, and lively nation. If anything is astonishing, no +matter how extravagant it may be, the crowd is sure to welcome it +greedily, for anyone would be afraid of being taken for a fool if he +should exclaim, "It is impossible!" Physicians are, perhaps, the +only men in France who know that an infinite gulf yawns between the +will and the deed, whilst in Italy it is an axiom known to everybody; +but I do not mean to say that the Italians are superior to the +French. + +A certain painter met with great success for some time by announcing +a thing which was an impossibility--namely, by pretending that he +could take a portrait of a person without seeing the individual, and +only from the description given. But he wanted the description to be +thoroughly accurate. The result of it was that the portrait did +greater honour to the person who gave the description than--to the +painter himself, but at the same time the informer found himself +under the obligation of finding the likeness very good; otherwise the +artist alleged the most legitimate excuse, and said that if the +likeness was not perfect the fault was to be ascribed to the person +who had given an imperfect description. + +One evening I was taking supper at Silvia's when one of the guests +spoke of that wonderful new artist, without laughing, and with every +appearance of believing the whole affair. + +"That painter," added he, "has already painted more than one hundred +portraits, and they are all perfect likenesses." + +Everybody was of the same opinion; it was splendid. I was the only +one who, laughing heartily, took the liberty of saying it was absurd +and impossible. The gentleman who had brought the wonderful news, +feeling angry, proposed a wager of one hundred louis. I laughed all +the more because his offer could not be accepted unless I exposed +myself to being made a dupe. + +"But the portraits are all admirable likenesses." + +"I do not believe it, or if they are then there must be cheating +somewhere." + +But the gentleman, being bent upon convincing Silvia and me--for she +had taken my part proposed to make us dine with the artist; and we +accepted. + +The next day we called upon the painter, where we saw a quantity of +portraits, all of which the artist claimed to be speaking likenesses; +as we did not know the persons whom they represented we could not +deny his claim. + +"Sir," said Silvia to the artist, "could you paint the likeness of my +daughter without seeing her?" + +"Yes, madam, if you are certain of giving me an exact description of +the expression of her features." + +We exchanged a glance, and no more was said about it. The painter +told us that supper was his favourite meal, and that he would be +delighted if we would often give him the pleasure of our company. +Like all quacks, he possessed an immense quantity of letters and +testimonials from Bordeaux, Toulouse, Lyons, Rouen, etc., which paid +the highest compliments to the perfection of his portraits, or gave +descriptions for new pictures ordered from him. His portraits, by +the way, had to be paid for in advance. + +Two or three days afterwards I met his pretty niece, who obligingly +upbraided me for not having yet availed myself of her uncle's +invitation to supper; the niece was a dainty morsel worthy of a king, +and, her reproaches being very flattering to my vanity I promised I +would come the next day. In less than a week it turned out a serious +engagement. I fell in love with the interesting niece, who, being +full of wit and well disposed to enjoy herself, had no love for me, +and granted me no favour. I hoped, and, feeling that I was caught, I +felt it was the only thing I could do. + +One day that I was alone in my room, drinking my coffee and thinking +of her, the door was suddenly opened without anyone being announced, +and a young man came in. I did not recollect him, but, without +giving me time to ask any questions, he said to me, + +"Sir, I have had the honour of meeting you at the supper-table of M. +Samson, the painter." + +"Ah! yes; I beg you to excuse me, sir, I did not at first recollect +you." + +"It is natural, for your eyes are always on Mdlle. Samson." + +"Very likely, but you must admit that she is a charming creature." + +"I have no difficulty whatever in agreeing with you; to my misery, I +know it but too well." + +"You are in love with her?" + +"Alas, yes! and I say, again, to my misery." + +"To your misery? But why, do not you gain her love?" + +"That is the very thing I have been striving for since last year, and +I was beginning to have some hope when your arrival has reduced me to +despair." + +"I have reduced you to despair?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I am very sorry, but I cannot help it." + +"You could easily help it; and, if you would allow me, I could +suggest to you the way in which you could greatly oblige me." + +"Speak candidly." + +"You might never put your foot in the house again." + +"That is a rather singular proposal, but I agree that it is truly the +only thing I can do if I have a real wish to oblige you. Do you +think, however, that in that case you would succeed in gaining her +affection?" + +"Then it will be my business to succeed. Do not go there again, and +I will take care of the rest." + +"I might render you that very great service; but you must confess +that you must have a singular opinion of me to suppose that I am a +man to do such a thing." + +"Yes, sir, I admit that it may appear singular; but I take you for a +man of great sense and sound intellect, and after considering the +subject deeply I have thought that you would put yourself in my +place; that you would not wish to make me miserable, or to expose +your own life for a young girl who can have inspired you with but a +passing fancy, whilst my only wish is to secure the happiness or the +misery of my life, whichever it may prove, by uniting her existence +with mine." + +"But suppose that I should intend, like you, to ask her in marriage?" + +"Then we should both be worthy of pity, and one of us would have +ceased to exist before the other obtained her, for as long as I shall +live Mdlle. Samson shall not be the wife of another." + +This young man, well-made, pale, grave, as cold as a piece of marble, +madly in love, who, in his reason mixed with utter despair, came to +speak to me in such a manner with the most surprising calm, made me +pause and consider. Undoubtedly I was not afraid, but although in +love with Mdlle. Samson I did not feel my passion sufficiently strong +to cut the throat of a man for the sake of her beautiful eyes, or to +lose my own life to defend my budding affection. Without answering +the young man, I began to pace up and down my room, and for a quarter +of an hour I weighed the following question which I put to myself: +Which decision will appear more manly in the eyes of my rival and +will win my own esteem to the deeper degree, namely-to accept coolly +his offer to cut one another's throats, or to allay his anxiety by +withdrawing from the field with dignity? + +Pride whispered, Fight; Reason said, Compel thy rival to acknowledge +thee a wiser man than he is. + +"What would you think of me, sir," I said to him, with an air of +decision, "if I consented to give up my visits to Mdlle. Samson?" + +"I would think that you had pity on a miserable man, and I say that +in that case you will ever find me ready to shed the last drop of my +blood to prove my deep gratitude." + +"Who are you?" + +"My name is Garnier, I am the only son of M. Garnier, wine merchant +in the Rue de Seine." + +"Well, M. Gamier, I will never again call on Mdlle. Samson. Let us +be friends." + +"Until death. Farewell, sir." + +"Adieu, be happy!" + +Patu came in five minutes after Garnier had left me: I related the +adventure to him, and he thought I was a hero. + +"I would have acted as you have done," he observed, "but I would not +have acted like Garnier." + +It was about that time that the Count de Melfort, colonel of the +Orleans regiment, entreated me through Camille, Coraline's sister, to +answer two questions by means of my cabalism. I gave two answers +very vague, yet meaning a great deal; I put them under a sealed +envelope and gave them to Camille, who asked me the next day to +accompany her to a place which she said she could not name to me. +I followed her; she took me to the Palais-Royal, and then, through a +narrow staircase, to the apartments of the Duchess de Chartres. +I waited about a quarter of an hour, at the end of which time the +duchess came in and loaded Camille with caresses for having brought +me. Then addressing herself to me, she told me, with dignity yet +very graciously, the difficulty she experienced in understanding the +answers I had sent and which she was holding in her hand. At first I +expressed some perplexity at the questions having emanated from her +royal highness, and I told her afterwards that I understood cabalism, +but that I could not interpret the meaning of the answers obtained +through it, and that her highness must ask new questions likely to +render the answers easier to be understood. She wrote down all she +could not make out and all she wanted to know. + +"Madam, you must be kind enough to divide the questions, for the +cabalistic oracle never answers two questions at the same time." + +"Well, then, prepare the questions yourself." + +"Your highness will excuse me, but every word must be written with +your own hand. Recollect, madam, that you will address yourself to a +superior intelligence knowing all your secrets" + +She began to write, and asked seven or eight questions. She read +them over carefully, and said, with a face beaming with noble +confidence, + +"Sir, I wish to be certain that no one shall ever know what I have +just written." + +"Your highness may rely on my honour." + +I read attentively, and I saw that her wish for secrecy was +reasonable, and that if I put the questions in my pocket I should run +the risk of losing them and implicating myself. + +"I only require three hours to complete my task," I said to the +duchess, "and I wish your highness to feel no anxiety. If you have +any other engagement you can leave me here alone, provided I am not +disturbed by anybody. When it is completed, I will put it all in a +sealed envelope; I only want your highness to tell me to whom I must +deliver the parcel." + +"Either to me or to Madame de Polignac, if you know her." + +"Yes, madam, I have the honour to know her." + +The duchess handed me a small tinder-box to enable me to light a wax- +candle, and she went away with Camille. I remained alone locked up +in the room, and at the end of three hours, just as I had completed +my task, Madame de Polignac came for the parcel and I left the +palace. + +The Duchess de Chartres, daughter of the Prince of Conti, was twenty- +six years of age. She was endowed with that particular sort of wit +which renders a woman adorable. She was lively, above the prejudices +of rank, cheerful, full of jest, a lover of pleasure, which she +preferred to a long life. "Short and sweet," were the words she had +constantly on her lips. She was pretty but she stood badly, and used +to laugh at Marcel, the teacher of graceful deportment, who wanted to +correct her awkward bearing. She kept her head bent forward and her +feet turned inside when dancing; yet she was a charming dancer. +Unfortunately her face was covered with pimples, which injured her +beauty very greatly. Her physicians thought that they were caused by +a disease of the liver, but they came from impurity of the blood, +which at last killed her, and from which she suffered throughout her +life. + +The questions she had asked from my oracle related to affairs +connected with her heart, and she wished likewise to know how she +could get rid of the blotches which disfigured her. My answers were +rather obscure in such matters as I was not specially acquainted +with, but they were very clear concerning her disease, and my oracle +became precious and necessary to her highness. + +The next day, after dinner, Camille wrote me a note, as I expected, +requesting me to give up all other engagements in order to present +myself at five o'clock at the Palais-Royal, in the same room in which +the duchess had already received me the day before. I was punctual. + +An elderly valet de chambre, who was waiting for me, immediately went +to give notice of my arrival, and five minutes after the charming +princess made her appearance. After addressing me in a very +complimentary manner, she drew all my answers from her pocket, and +enquired whether I had any pressing engagements. + +"Your highness may be certain that I shall never have any more +important business than to attend to your wishes." + +"Very well; I do not intend to go out, and we can work." + +She then shewed me all the questions which she had already prepared +on different subjects, and particularly those relating to the cure of +her pimples. One circumstance had contributed to render my oracle +precious to her, because nobody could possibly know it, and I had +guessed it. Had I not done so, I daresay it would have been all the +same. I had laboured myself under the same disease, and I was enough +of a physician to be aware that to attempt the cure of a cutaneous +disease by active remedies might kill the patient. + +I had already answered that she could not get rid of the pimples on +her face in less than a week, but that a year of diet would be +necessary to effect a radical cure. + +We spent three hours in ascertaining what she was to do, and, +believing implicitly in the power and in the science of the oracle, +she undertook to follow faithfully everything ordered. Within one +week all the ugly pimples had entirely disappeared. + +I took care to purge her slightly; I prescribed every day what she +was to eat, and forbade the use of all cosmetics; I only advised her +to wash herself morning and evening with plantain water. The modest +oracle told the princess to make use of the same water for her +ablutions of every part of her body where she desired to obtain the +same result, and she obeyed the prescription religiously. + +I went to the opera on purpose on the day when the duchess shewed +herself there with a smooth and rosy shin. After the opera, she took +a walk in the great alley of the Palais-Royal, followed by the ladies +of her suite and flattered by everybody. She saw me, and honoured me +with a smile. I was truly happy. Camille, Madame de Polignac, and +M. de Melfort were the only persons who knew that I was the oracle of +the duchess, and I enjoyed my success. But the next day a few +pimples reappeared on her beautiful complexion, and I received an +order to repair at once to the Palais-Royal. + +The valet, who did not know me, shewed me into a delightful boudoir +near a closet in which there was a bath. The duchess came in; she +looked sad, for she had several small pimples on the forehead and the +chin. She held in her hand a question for the oracle, and as it was +only a short one I thought it would give her the pleasure of finding +the answer by herself. The numbers translated by the princess +reproached her with having transgressed the regimen prescribed; she +confessed to having drunk some liquors and eaten some ham; but she +was astounded at having found that answer herself, and she could not +understand how such an answer could result from an agglomeration of +numbers. At that moment, one of her women came in to whisper a few +words to her; she told her to wait outside, and turning towards me, +she said, + +"Have you any objection to seeing one of your friends who is as +delicate as discreet?" + +With these words, she hastily concealed in her pocket all the papers +which did not relate to her disease; then she called out. + +A man entered the room, whom I took for a stableboy; it was M. de +Melfort. + +"See," said the princess to him, "M. Casanova has taught me the +cabalistic science." + +And she shewed him the answer she had obtained herself. The count +could not believe it. + +"Well," said the duchess to me, "we must convince him. What shall I +ask?" + +"Anything your highness chooses." + +She considered for one instant, and, drawing from her pocket a small +ivory box, she wrote, "Tell me why this pomatum has no longer any +effect" + +She formed the pyramid, the columns, and the key, as I had taught +her, and as she was ready to get the answer, I told her how to make +the additions and subtractions which seem to come from the numbers, +but which in reality are only arbitrary; then I told her to interpret +the numbers in letters, and I left the room under some pretext. I +came back when I thought that she had completed her translation, and +I found her wrapped in amazement. + +"Ah, sir!" she exclaimed, "what an answer!" + +"Perhaps it is not the right one; but that will sometimes happen, +madam." + +"Not the right one, sir? It is divine! Here it is: That pomatum has +no effect upon the skin of a woman who has been a mother." + +"I do not see anything extraordinary in that answer, madam." + +"Very likely, sir, but it is because you do not know that the pomatum +in question was given to me five years ago by the Abbe de Brosses; it +cured me at that time, but it was ten months before the birth of the +Duke de Montpensier. I would give anything in the world to be +thoroughly acquainted with that sublime cabalistic science." + +"What!" said the count, "is it the pomatum the history of which I +know?" + +"Precisely." + +"It is astonishing." + +"I wish to ask one more question concerning a woman the name of whom +I would rather not give." + +"Say the woman whom I have in my thoughts." + +She then asked this question: "What disease is that woman suffering +from?" She made the calculation, and the answer which I made her +bring forth was this: "She wants to deceive her husband." This time +the duchess fairly screamed with astonishment. + +It was getting very late, and I was preparing to take leave, when M. +de Melfort, who was speaking to her highness, told me that we might +go together. When we were out, he told me that the cabalistic answer +concerning the pomatum was truly wonderful. This was the history of +it: + +"The duchess, pretty as you see her now, had her face so fearfully +covered with pimples that the duke, thoroughly disgusted, had not the +courage to come near her to enjoy his rights as a husband, and the +poor princess was pining with useless longing to become a mother. +The Abbe de Brosses cured her with that pomatum, and her beautiful +face having entirely recovered it original bloom she made her +appearance at the Theatre Francais, in the queen's box. The Duke de +Chartres, not knowing that his wife had gone to the theatre, where +she went but very seldom, was in the king's box. He did not +recognize the duchess, but thinking her very handsome he enquired who +she was, and when he was told he would not believe it; he left the +royal box, went to his wife, complimented her, and announced his +visit for the very same night. The result of that visit was, nine +months afterwards, the birth of the Duke of Montpensier, who is now +five years old and enjoys excellent health. During the whole of her +pregnancy the duchess kept her face smooth and blooming, but +immediately after her delivery the pimples reappeared, and the +pomatum remained without any effect." + +As he concluded his explanation, the count offered me a tortoise- +shell box with a very good likeness of her royal highness, and said, + +"The duchess begs your acceptance of this portrait, and, in case you +would like to have it set she wishes you to make use of this for that +purpose." + +It was a purse of one hundred Louis. I accepted both, and entreated +the count to offer the expressions of my profound gratitude to her +highness. I never had the portrait mounted, for I was then in want +of money for some other purpose. + +After that, the duchess did me the honour of sending for me several +times; but her cure remained altogether out of the question; she +could not make up her mind to follow a regular diet. She would +sometimes keep me at work for five or six hours, now in one corner, +now in another, going in and out herself all the time, and having +either dinner or supper brought to me by the old valet, who never +uttered a word. + +Her questions to the oracle alluded only to secret affairs which she +was curious to know, and she often found truths with which I was not +myself acquainted, through the answers. She wished me to teach her +the cabalistic science, but she never pressed her wish upon me. She, +however, commissioned M. de Melfort to tell me that, if I would teach +her, she would get me an appointment with an income of twenty-five +thousand francs. Alas! it was impossible! I was madly in love with +her, but I would not for the world have allowed her to guess my +feelings. My pride was the corrective of my love. I was afraid of +her haughtiness humiliating me, and perhaps I was wrong. All I know +is that I even now repent of having listened to a foolish pride. It +is true that I enjoyed certain privileges which she might have +refused me if she had known my love. + +One day she wished my oracle to tell her whether it was possible to +cure a cancer which Madame de la Popeliniere had in the breast; I +took it in my head to answer that the lady alluded to had no cancer, +and was enjoying excellent health. + +"How is that?" said the duchess; "everyone in Paris believes her to +be suffering from a cancer, and she has consultation upon +consultation. Yet I have faith in the oracle." + +Soon afterwards, seeing the Duke de Richelieu at the court, she told +him she was certain that Madame de la Popeliniere was not ill. The +marshal, who knew the secret, told her that she was mistaken; but she +proposed a wager of a hundred thousand francs. I trembled when the +duchess related the conversation to me. + +"Has he accepted your wages?" I enquired, anxiously. + +"No; he seemed surprised; you are aware that he ought to know the +truth." + +Three or four days after that conversation, the duchess told me +triumphantly that M. de Richelieu had confessed to her that the +cancer was only a ruse to excite the pity of her husband, with whom +Madame de la Popeliniere wanted to live again on good terms; she +added that the marshal had expressed his willingness to pay one +thousand Louis to know how she had discovered the truth. + +"If you wish to earn that sum," said the duchess to me, "I will tell +him all about it." + +But I was afraid of a snare; I knew the temper of the marshal, and +the story of the hole in the wall through which he introduced himself +into that lady's apartment, was the talk of all Paris. M. de la +Popeliniere himself had made the adventure more public by refusing to +live with his wife, to whom he paid an income of twelve thousand +francs. + +The Duchess de Chartres had written some charming poetry on that +amusing affair; but out of her own coterie no one knew it except the +king, who was fond of the princess, although she was in the habit of +scoffing at him. One day, for instance, she asked him whether it was +true that the king of Prussia was expected in Paris. Louis XV. +having answered that it was an idle rumour, + +"I am very sorry," she said, "for I am longing to see a king." + +My brother had completed several pictures and having decided on +presenting one to M. de Marigny, we repaired one morning to the +apartment of that nobleman, who lived in the Louvre, where all the +artists were in the habit of paying their court to him. We were +shewn into a hall adjoining his private apartment, and having arrived +early we waited for M. de Marigny. My brother's picture was exposed +there; it was a battle piece in the style of Bourguignon. + +The first person who passed through the room stopped before the +picture, examined it attentively, and moved on, evidently thinking +that it was a poor painting; a moment afterwards two more persons +came in, looked at the picture, smiled, and said, + +"That's the work of a beginner." + +I glanced at my brother, who was seated near me; he was in a fever. +In less than a quarter of an hour the room was full of people, and +the unfortunate picture was the butt of everybody's laughter. My +poor brother felt almost dying, and thanked his stars that no one +knew him personally. + +The state of his mind was such that I heartily pitied him; I rose +with the intention of going to some other room, and to console him I +told him that M. de Marigny would soon come, and that his approbation +of the picture would avenge him for the insults of the crowd. +Fortunately, this was not my brother's opinion; we left the room +hurriedly, took a coach, went home, and sent our servant to fetch +back the painting. As soon as it had been brought back my brother +made a battle of it in real earnest, for he cut it up with a sword +into twenty pieces. He made up his mind to settle his affairs in +Paris immediately, and to go somewhere else to study an art which he +loved to idolatry; we resolved on going to Dresden together. + +Two or three days before leaving the delightful city of Paris I dined +alone at the house of the gate-keeper of the Tuileries; his name was +Conde. After dinner his wife, a rather pretty woman, presented me +the bill, on which every item was reckoned at double its value. I +pointed it out to her, but she answered very curtly that she could +not abate one sou. I paid, and as the bill was receipted with the +words 'femme Conde', I took the pen and to the word 'Conde' I added +'labre', and I went away leaving the bill on the table. + +I was taking a walk in the Tuileries, not thinking any more of my +female extortioner, when a small man, with his hat cocked on one side +of his head and a large nosegay in his button-hole, and sporting a +long sword, swaggered up to me and informed me, without any further +explanation, that he had a fancy to cut my throat. + +"But, my small specimen of humanity," I said, "you would require to +jump on a chair to reach my throat. I will cut your ears." + +"Sacre bleu, monsieur!" + +"No vulgar passion, my dear sir; follow me; you shall soon be +satisfied." + +I walked rapidly towards the Porte de l'Etoile, where, seeing that +the place was deserted, I abruptly asked the fellow what he wanted, +and why he had attacked me. + +"I am the Chevalier de Talvis," he answered. "You have insulted an +honest woman who is under my protection; unsheath!" + +With these words he drew his long sword; I unsheathed mine; after a +minute or two I lunged rapidly, and wounded him in the breast. He +jumped backward, exclaiming that I had wounded him treacherously. + +"You lie, you rascally mannikin! acknowledge it, or I thrust my +sword through your miserable body." + +"You will not do it, for I am wounded; but I insist upon having my +revenge, and we will leave the decision of this to competent judges." + +"Miserable wrangler, wretched fighter, if you are not satisfied, I +will cut off your ears!" + +I left him there, satisfied that I had acted according to the laws of +the duello, for he had drawn his sword before me, and if he had not +been skilful enough to cover himself in good time, it was not, of +course, my business to teach him. Towards the middle of August I +left Paris with my brother. I had made a stay of two years in that +city, the best in the world. I had enjoyed myself greatly, and had +met with no unpleasantness except that I had been now and then short +of money. We went through Metz, Mayence, and Frankfort, and arrived +in Dresden at the end of the same month. My mother offered us the +most affectionate welcome, and was delighted to see us again. My +brother remained four years in that pleasant city, constantly engaged +in the study of his art, and copying all the fine paintings of +battles by the great masters in the celebrated Electoral Gallery. + +He went back to Paris only when he felt certain that he could set +criticism at defiance; I shall say hereafter how it was that we both +reached that city about the same time. But before that period, dear, +reader, you will see what good and adverse fortune did for or against +me. + +My life in Dresden until the end of the carnival in 1753 does not +offer any extraordinary adventure. To please the actors, and +especially my mother, I wrote a kind of melodrama, in which I brought +out two harlequins. It was a parody of the 'Freres Ennemis', by +Racine. The king was highly amused at the comic fancies which filled +my play, and he made me a beautiful present. The king was grand and +generous, and these qualities found a ready echo in the breast of the +famous Count de Bruhl. I left Dresden soon after that, bidding adieu +to my mother, to my brother Francois, and to my sister, then the wife +of Pierre Auguste, chief player of the harpsichord at the Court, who +died two years ago, leaving his widow and family in comfortable +circumstances. + +My stay in Dresden was marked by an amorous souvenir of which I got +rid, as in previous similar circumstances, by a diet of six weeks. I +have often remarked that the greatest part of my life was spent in +trying to make myself ill, and when I had succeeded, in trying to +recover my health. I have met with equal success in both things; and +now that I enjoy excellent health in that line, I am very sorry to be +physically unable to make myself ill again; but age, that cruel and +unavoidable disease, compels me to be in good health in spite of +myself. The illness I allude to, which the Italians call 'mal +francais', although we might claim the honour of its first +importation, does not shorten life, but it leaves indelible marks on +the face. Those scars, less honourable perhaps than those which are +won in the service of Mars, being obtained through pleasure, ought +not to leave any regret behind. + +In Dresden I had frequent opportunities of seeing the king, who was +very fond of the Count de Bruhl, his minister, because that favourite +possessed the double secret of shewing himself more extravagant even +than his master, and of indulging all his whims. + +Never was a monarch a greater enemy to economy; he laughed heartily +when he was plundered and he spent a great deal in order to have +occasion to laugh often. As he had not sufficient wit to amuse +himself with the follies of other kings and with the absurdities of +humankind, he kept four buffoons, who are called fools in Germany, +although these degraded beings are generally more witty than their +masters. The province of those jesters is to make their owner laugh +by all sorts of jokes which are usually nothing but disgusting +tricks, or low, impertinent jests. + +Yet these professional buffoons sometimes captivate the mind of their +master to such an extent that they obtain from him very important +favours in behalf of the persons they protect, and the consequence is +that they are often courted by the highest families. Where is the +man who will not debase himself if he be in want? Does not Agamemnon +say, in Homer, that in such a case man must necessarily be guilty of +meanness? And Agamemnon and Homer lived long before our time! It +evidently proves that men are at all times moved by the same motive- +namely, self-interest. + +It is wrong to say that the Count de Bruhl was the ruin of Saxony, +for he was only the faithful minister of his royal master's +inclinations. His children are poor, and justify their father's +conduct. + +The court at Dresden was at that time the most brilliant in Europe; +the fine arts flourished, but there was no gallantry, for King +Augustus had no inclination for the fair sex, and the Saxons were not +of a nature to be thus inclined unless the example was set by their +sovereign. + +At my arrival in Prague, where I did not intend to stop, I delivered +a letter I had for Locatelli, manager of the opera, and went to pay a +visit to Madame Morelli, an old acquaintance, for whom I had great +affection, and for two or three days she supplied all the wants of my +heart. + +As I was on the point of leaving Prague, I met in the street my +friend Fabris, who had become a colonel, and he insisted upon my +dining with him. After 'embracing him, I represented to him, but in +vain, that I had made all my arrangements to go away immediately. + +"You will go this evening," he said, "with a friend of mine, and you +will catch the coach." + +I had to give way, and I was delighted to have done so, for the +remainder of the day passed in the most agreeable manner. Fabris was +longing for war, and his wishes were gratified two years afterwards; +he covered himself with glory. + +I must say one word about Locatelli, who was an original character +well worthy to be known. He took his meals every day at a table laid +out for thirty persons, and the guests were his actors, actresses, +dancers of both sexes, and a few friends. He did the honours of his +well-supplied board nobly, and his real passion was good living. I +shall have occasion to mention him again at the time of my journey to +St. Petersburg, where I met him, and where he died only lately at the +age of ninety. + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of MEMOIRES OF JACQUES CASANOVA +TO PARIS AND PRISON, Vol. 2a, PARIS by Jacques Casanova de Seingalt + |