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diff --git a/7929-h/7929-h.htm b/7929-h/7929-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..058de3d --- /dev/null +++ b/7929-h/7929-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10941 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Parisians in the Country, by Honore de Balzac + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Parisians in the Country, by Honore de Balzac + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Parisians in the Country + The Illustrious Gaudissart, and The Muse of the Department + +Author: Honore de Balzac + +Release Date: July 24, 2009 [EBook #7929] +Last Updated: November 23, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PARISIANS IN THE COUNTRY *** + + + + +Produced by John Bickers, David Widger, and Dagny + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + PARISIANS IN THE COUNTRY + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + <i>THE ILLUSTRIOUS GAUDISSART, <br /><br /> and <br /><br /> THE MUSE OF THE + DEPARTMENT</i> + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Honore De Balzac + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <h3> + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>THE ILLUSTRIOUS GAUDISSART</b></big> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> <big><b>THE MUSE OF THE DEPARTMENT</b></big> + </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> ADDENDUM </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + I have sometimes wondered whether it was accident or intention which made + Balzac so frequently combine early and late work in the same volume. The + question is certainly insoluble, and perhaps not worth solving, but it + presents itself once more in the present instance. <i>L’Illustre + Gaudissart</i> is a story of 1832, the very heyday of Balzac’s creative + period, when even his pen could hardly keep up with the abundance of his + fancy and the gathered stores of his minute observation. <i>La Muse du + Departement</i> dates ten years and more later, when, though there was + plenty of both left, both sacks had been deeply dipped into. + </p> + <p> + <i>L’Illustre Gaudissart</i> is, of course, slight, not merely in bulk, + but in conception. Balzac’s Tourangeau patriotism may have amused itself + by the idea of the villagers “rolling” the great Gaudissart; but the + ending of the tale can hardly be thought to be quite so good as the + beginning. Still, that beginning is altogether excellent. The sketch of + the <i>commis-voyageur</i> generally smacks of that <i>physiologie</i> + style of which Balzac was so fond; but it is good, and Gaudissart himself, + as well as the whole scene with his <i>epouse libre</i>, is delightful. + The Illustrious One was evidently a favorite character with his creator. + He nowhere plays a very great part; but it is everywhere a rather + favorable and, except in this little mishap with Margaritis (which, it + must be observed, does not turn entirely to his discomfiture), a rather + successful part. We have him in <i>Cesar Birotteau</i> superintending the + early efforts of Popinot to launch the Huile Cephalique. He was present at + the great ball. He served as intermediary to M. de Bauvan in the merciful + scheme of buying at fancy prices the handiwork of the Count’s faithful + spouse, and so providing her with a livelihood; and later as a theatrical + manager, a little spoilt by his profession, we find him in <i>Le Cousin + Pons</i>. But he is always what the French called “a good devil,” and here + he is a very good devil indeed. + </p> + <p> + Although <i>La Muse du Departement</i> is an important work, it cannot be + spoken of in quite unhesitating terms. It contains, indeed, in the + personage of Lousteau, one of the very most elaborate of Balzac’s + portraits of a particular type of men of letters. The original is said to + have been Jules Janin, who is somewhat disadvantageously contrasted here + and elsewhere with Claude Vignon, said on the same rather vague authority + to be Gustave Planche. Both Janin and Planche are now too much forgotten, + but in both more or less (and in Lousteau very much “more”) Balzac cannot + be said to have dealt mildly with his <i>bete noire</i>, the critical + temperament. Lousteau, indeed, though not precisely a scoundrel, is both a + rascal and a cad. Even Balzac seems a little shocked at his <i>lettre de + faire part</i> in reference to his mistress’ child; and it is seldom + possible to discern in any of his proceedings the most remote + approximation to the conduct of a gentleman. But then, as we have seen, + and shall see, Balzac’s standard for the conduct of his actual gentlemen + was by no means fantastically exquisite or discouragingly high, and in the + case of his Bohemians it was accommodating to the utmost degree. He seems + to despise Lousteau, but rather for his insouciance and neglect of his + opportunities of making himself a position than for anything else. + </p> + <p> + I have often felt disposed to ask those who would assert Balzac’s absolute + infallibility as a gynaecologist to give me a reasoned criticism of the + heroine of this novel. I do not entirely “figure to myself” Dinah de la + Baudraye. It is perfectly possible that she should have loved a “sweep” + like Lousteau, there is certainly nothing extremely unusual in a woman + loving worse sweeps even than he. But would she have done it, and having + done it, have also done what she did afterwards? These questions may be + answered differently; I do not answer them in the negative myself, but I + cannot give them an affirmative answer with the conviction which I should + like to show. + </p> + <p> + Among the minor characters, the <i>substitut</i> de Clagny has a touch of + nobility which contrasts happily enough with Lousteau’s unworthiness. + Bianchon is as good as usual; Balzac always gives Bianchon a favorable + part. Madame Piedefer is one of the numerous instances in which the + unfortunate class of mothers-in-law atones for what are supposed to be its + crimes against the human race; and old La Baudraye, not so hopelessly + repulsive in a French as he would be in an English novel, is a shrewd old + rascal enough. + </p> + <p> + But I cannot think the scene of the Parisians <i>blaguing</i> the + Sancerrois is a very happy one. That it is in exceedingly bad taste might + not matter so very much; Balzac would reply, and justly, that he had not + intended to represent it as anything else. That the fun is not very funny + may be a matter of definition and appreciation. But what scarcely admits + of denial or discussion is that it is tyrannously too long. The citations + of <i>Olympia</i> are pushed beyond measure, beyond what is comic, almost + beyond the license of farce; and the comments, which remind one rather of + the heavy jesting on critics in <i>Un Prince de la Boheme</i> and the + short-lived <i>Revue Parisienne</i>, are labored to the last degree. The + part of Nathan, too, is difficult to appreciate exactly, and altogether + the book does not seem to me a <i>reussite</i>. + </p> + <p> + The history of <i>L’Illustre Gaudissart</i> is, for a story of Balzac’s, + almost null. It was inserted without any previous newspaper appearance in + the first edition of <i>Scenes de la Vie de Province</i> in 1833, and + entered with the rest of them into the first edition also of the <i>Comedie</i>, + when the joint title, which it has kept since and shared with <i>La Muse + du Departement</i>, of <i>Les Parisiens en Province</i> was given to it. + </p> + <p> + <i>La Muse du Departement</i> has a rather more complicated record than + its companion piece in <i>Les Parisiens en Province</i>, <i>L’Illustre + Gaudissart</i>. It appeared at first, not quite complete and under the + title of <i>Dinah Piedefer</i>, in <i>Le Messager</i> during March and + April 1843, and was almost immediately published as a book, with works of + other writers, under the general title of <i>Les Mysteres de Province</i>, + and accompanied by some other work of its own author’s. It had four parts + and fifty-two chapters in <i>Le Messager</i>, an arrangement which was but + slightly altered in the volume form. M. de Lovenjoul gives some curious + indications of mosaic work in it, and some fragments which do not now + appear in the text. + </p> + <p> + George Saintsbury + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE ILLUSTRIOUS GAUDISSART + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Translated By Katharine Prescott Wormeley + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + DEDICATION + </h3> + <h3> + To Madame la Duchesse de Castries. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + The commercial traveller, a personage unknown to antiquity, is one of the + striking figures created by the manners and customs of our present epoch. + May he not, in some conceivable order of things, be destined to mark for + coming philosophers the great transition which welds a period of material + enterprise to the period of intellectual strength? Our century will bind + the realm of isolated power, abounding as it does in creative genius, to + the realm of universal but levelling might; equalizing all products, + spreading them broadcast among the masses, and being itself controlled by + the principle of unity,—the final expression of all societies. Do we + not find the dead level of barbarism succeeding the saturnalia of popular + thought and the last struggles of those civilizations which accumulated + the treasures of the world in one direction? + </p> + <p> + The commercial traveller! Is he not to the realm of ideas what our + stage-coaches are to men and things? He is their vehicle; he sets them + going, carries them along, rubs them up with one another. He takes from + the luminous centre a handful of light, and scatters it broadcast among + the drowsy populations of the duller regions. This human pyrotechnic is a + scholar without learning, a juggler hoaxed by himself, an unbelieving + priest of mysteries and dogmas, which he expounds all the better for his + want of faith. Curious being! He has seen everything, known everything, + and is up in all the ways of the world. Soaked in the vices of Paris, he + affects to be the fellow-well-met of the provinces. He is the link which + connects the village with the capital; though essentially he is neither + Parisian nor provincial,—he is a traveller. He sees nothing to the + core: men and places he knows by their names; as for things, he looks + merely at their surface, and he has his own little tape-line with which to + measure them. His glance shoots over all things and penetrates none. He + occupies himself with a great deal, yet nothing occupies him. + </p> + <p> + Jester and jolly fellow, he keeps on good terms with all political + opinions, and is patriotic to the bottom of his soul. A capital mimic, he + knows how to put on, turn and turn about, the smiles of persuasion, + satisfaction, and good-nature, or drop them for the normal expression of + his natural man. He is compelled to be an observer of a certain sort in + the interests of his trade. He must probe men with a glance and guess + their habits, wants, and above all their solvency. To economize time he + must come to quick decisions as to his chances of success,—a + practice that makes him more or less a man of judgment; on the strength of + which he sets up as a judge of theatres, and discourses about those of + Paris and the provinces. + </p> + <p> + He knows all the good and bad haunts in France, “de actu et visu.” He can + pilot you, on occasion, to vice or virtue with equal assurance. Blest with + the eloquence of a hot-water spigot turned on at will, he can check or let + run, without floundering, the collection of phrases which he keeps on tap, + and which produce upon his victims the effect of a moral shower-bath. + Loquacious as a cricket, he smokes, drinks, wears a profusion of trinkets, + overawes the common people, passes for a lord in the villages, and never + permits himself to be “stumped,”—a slang expression all his own. He + knows how to slap his pockets at the right time, and make his money jingle + if he thinks the servants of the second-class houses which he wants to + enter (always eminently suspicious) are likely to take him for a thief. + Activity is not the least surprising quality of this human machine. Not + the hawk swooping upon its prey, not the stag doubling before the huntsman + and the hounds, nor the hounds themselves catching scent of the game, can + be compared with him for the rapidity of his dart when he spies a + “commission,” for the agility with which he trips up a rival and gets + ahead of him, for the keenness of his scent as he noses a customer and + discovers the sport where he can get off his wares. + </p> + <p> + How many great qualities must such a man possess! You will find in all + countries many such diplomats of low degree; consummate negotiators + arguing in the interests of calico, jewels, frippery, wines; and often + displaying more true diplomacy than ambassadors themselves, who, for the + most part, know only the forms of it. No one in France can doubt the + powers of the commercial traveller; that intrepid soul who dares all, and + boldly brings the genius of civilization and the modern inventions of + Paris into a struggle with the plain commonsense of remote villages, and + the ignorant and boorish treadmill of provincial ways. Can we ever forget + the skilful manoeuvres by which he worms himself into the minds of the + populace, bringing a volume of words to bear upon the refractory, + reminding us of the indefatigable worker in marbles whose file eats slowly + into a block of porphyry? Would you seek to know the utmost power of + language, or the strongest pressure that a phrase can bring to bear + against rebellious lucre, against the miserly proprietor squatting in the + recesses of his country lair?—listen to one of these great + ambassadors of Parisian industry as he revolves and works and sucks like + an intelligent piston of the steam-engine called Speculation. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said a wise political economist, the director-cashier-manager + and secretary-general of a celebrated fire-insurance company, “out of + every five hundred thousand francs of policies to be renewed in the + provinces, not more than fifty thousand are paid up voluntarily. The other + four hundred and fifty thousand are got in by the activity of our agents, + who go about among those who are in arrears and worry them with stories of + horrible incendiaries until they are driven to sign the new policies. Thus + you see that eloquence, the labial flux, is nine tenths of the ways and + means of our business.” + </p> + <p> + To talk, to make people listen to you,—that is seduction in itself. + A nation that has two Chambers, a woman who lends both ears, are soon + lost. Eve and her serpent are the everlasting myth of an hourly fact which + began, and may end, with the world itself. + </p> + <p> + “A conversation of two hours ought to capture your man,” said a retired + lawyer. + </p> + <p> + Let us walk round the commercial traveller, and look at him well. Don’t + forget his overcoat, olive green, nor his cloak with its morocco collar, + nor the striped blue cotton shirt. In this queer figure—so original + that we cannot rub it out—how many divers personalities we come + across! In the first place, what an acrobat, what a circus, what a + battery, all in one, is the man himself, his vocation, and his tongue! + Intrepid mariner, he plunges in, armed with a few phrases, to catch five + or six thousand francs in the frozen seas, in the domain of the red + Indians who inhabit the interior of France. The provincial fish will not + rise to harpoons and torches; it can only be taken with seines and nets + and gentlest persuasions. The traveller’s business is to extract the gold + in country caches by a purely intellectual operation, and to extract it + pleasantly and without pain. Can you think without a shudder of the flood + of phrases which, day by day, renewed each dawn, leaps in cascades the + length and breadth of sunny France? + </p> + <p> + You know the species; let us now take a look at the individual. + </p> + <p> + There lives in Paris an incomparable commercial traveller, the paragon of + his race, a man who possesses in the highest degree all the qualifications + necessary to the nature of his success. His speech is vitriol and likewise + glue,—glue to catch and entangle his victim and make him sticky and + easy to grip; vitriol to dissolve hard heads, close fists, and closer + calculations. His line was once the HAT; but his talents and the art with + which he snared the wariest provincial had brought him such commercial + celebrity that all vendors of the “article Paris”[*] paid court to him, + and humbly begged that he would deign to take their commissions. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +[*] “Article Paris” means anything—especially articles of wearing + apparel—which originates or is made in Paris. The name is + supposed to give to the thing a special value in the provinces. +</pre> + <p> + Thus, when he returned to Paris in the intervals of his triumphant + progress through France, he lived a life of perpetual festivity in the + shape of weddings and suppers. When he was in the provinces, the + correspondents in the smaller towns made much of him; in Paris, the great + houses feted and caressed him. Welcomed, flattered, and fed wherever he + went, it came to pass that to breakfast or to dine alone was a novelty, an + event. He lived the life of a sovereign, or, better still, of a + journalist; in fact, he was the perambulating “feuilleton” of Parisian + commerce. + </p> + <p> + His name was Gaudissart; and his renown, his vogue, the flatteries + showered upon him, were such as to win for him the surname of Illustrious. + Wherever the fellow went,—behind a counter or before a bar, into a + salon or to the top of a stage-coach, up to a garret or to dine with a + banker,—every one said, the moment they saw him, “Ah! here comes the + illustrious Gaudissart!”[*] No name was ever so in keeping with the style, + the manners, the countenance, the voice, the language, of any man. All + things smiled upon our traveller, and the traveller smiled back in return. + “Similia similibus,”—he believed in homoeopathy. Puns, horse-laugh, + monkish face, skin of a friar, true Rabelaisian exterior, clothing, body, + mind, and features, all pulled together to put a devil-may-care jollity + into every inch of his person. Free-handed and easy-going, he might be + recognized at once as the favorite of grisettes, the man who jumps lightly + to the top of a stage-coach, gives a hand to the timid lady who fears to + step down, jokes with the postillion about his neckerchief and contrives + to sell him a cap, smiles at the maid and catches her round the waist or + by the heart; gurgles at dinner like a bottle of wine and pretends to draw + the cork by sounding a filip on his distended cheek; plays a tune with his + knife on the champagne glasses without breaking them, and says to the + company, “Let me see you do THAT”; chaffs the timid traveller, contradicts + the knowing one, lords it over a dinner-table and manages to get the + titbits for himself. A strong fellow, nevertheless, he can throw aside all + this nonsense and mean business when he flings away the stump of his cigar + and says, with a glance at some town, “I’ll go and see what those people + have got in their stomachs.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +[*] “Se gaudir,” to enjoy, to make fun. “Gaudriole,” gay discourse, + rather free.—Littre. +</pre> + <p> + When buckled down to his work he became the slyest and cleverest of + diplomats. All things to all men, he knew how to accost a banker like a + capitalist, a magistrate like a functionary, a royalist with pious and + monarchical sentiments, a bourgeois as one of themselves. In short, + wherever he was he was just what he ought to be; he left Gaudissart at the + door when he went in, and picked him up when he came out. + </p> + <p> + Until 1830 the illustrious Gaudissart was faithful to the article Paris. + In his close relation to the caprices of humanity, the varied paths of + commerce had enabled him to observe the windings of the heart of man. He + had learned the secret of persuasive eloquence, the knack of loosening the + tightest purse-strings, the art of rousing desire in the souls of + husbands, wives, children, and servants; and what is more, he knew how to + satisfy it. No one had greater faculty than he for inveigling a merchant + by the charms of a bargain, and disappearing at the instant when desire + had reached its crisis. Full of gratitude to the hat-making trade, he + always declared that it was his efforts in behalf of the exterior of the + human head which had enabled him to understand its interior: he had capped + and crowned so many people, he was always flinging himself at their heads, + etc. His jokes about hats and heads were irrepressible, though perhaps not + dazzling. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, after August and October, 1830, he abandoned the hat trade + and the article Paris, and tore himself from things mechanical and visible + to mount into the higher spheres of Parisian speculation. “He forsook,” to + use his own words, “matter for mind; manufactured products for the + infinitely purer elaborations of human intelligence.” This requires some + explanation. + </p> + <p> + The general upset of 1830 brought to birth, as everybody knows, a number + of old ideas which clever speculators tried to pass off in new bodies. + After 1830 ideas became property. A writer, too wise to publish his + writings, once remarked that “more ideas are stolen than + pocket-handkerchiefs.” Perhaps in course of time we may have an Exchange + for thought; in fact, even now ideas, good or bad, have their consols, are + bought up, imported, exported, sold, and quoted like stocks. If ideas are + not on hand ready for sale, speculators try to pass off words in their + stead, and actually live upon them as a bird lives on the seeds of his + millet. Pray do not laugh; a word is worth quite as much as an idea in a + land where the ticket on a sack is of more importance than the contents. + Have we not seen libraries working off the word “picturesque” when + literature would have cut the throat of the word “fantastic”? Fiscal + genius has guessed the proper tax on intellect; it has accurately + estimated the profits of advertising; it has registered a prospectus of + the quantity and exact value of the property, weighing its thought at the + intellectual Stamp Office in the Rue de la Paix. + </p> + <p> + Having become an article of commerce, intellect and all its products must + naturally obey the laws which bind other manufacturing interests. Thus it + often happens that ideas, conceived in their cups by certain apparently + idle Parisians,—who nevertheless fight many a moral battle over + their champagne and their pheasants,—are handed down at their birth + from the brain to the commercial travellers who are employed to spread + them discreetly, “urbi et orbi,” through Paris and the provinces, seasoned + with the fried pork of advertisement and prospectus, by means of which + they catch in their rat-trap the departmental rodent commonly called + subscriber, sometimes stockholder, occasionally corresponding member or + patron, but invariably fool. + </p> + <p> + “I am a fool!” many a poor country proprietor has said when, caught by the + prospect of being the first to launch a new idea, he finds that he has, in + point of fact, launched his thousand or twelve hundred francs into a gulf. + </p> + <p> + “Subscribers are fools who never can be brought to understand that to go + ahead in the intellectual world they must start with more money than they + need for the tour of Europe,” say the speculators. + </p> + <p> + Consequently there is endless warfare between the recalcitrant public + which refuses to pay the Parisian imposts and the tax-gatherer who, living + by his receipt of custom, lards the public with new ideas, turns it on the + spit of lively projects, roasts it with prospectuses (basting all the + while with flattery), and finally gobbles it up with some toothsome sauce + in which it is caught and intoxicated like a fly with a black-lead. + Moreover, since 1830 what honors and emoluments have been scattered + throughout France to stimulate the zeal and self-love of the “progressive + and intelligent masses”! Titles, medals, diplomas, a sort of legion of + honor invented for the army of martyrs, have followed each other with + marvellous rapidity. Speculators in the manufactured products of the + intellect have developed a spice, a ginger, all their own. From this have + come premiums, forestalled dividends, and that conscription of noted names + which is levied without the knowledge of the unfortunate writers who bear + them, and who thus find themselves actual co-operators in more enterprises + than there are days in the year; for the law, we may remark, takes no + account of the theft of a patronymic. Worse than all is the rape of ideas + which these caterers for the public mind, like the slave-merchants of + Asia, tear from the paternal brain before they are well matured, and drag + half-clothed before the eyes of their blockhead of a sultan, their + Shahabaham, their terrible public, which, if they don’t amuse it, will cut + off their heads by curtailing the ingots and emptying their pockets. + </p> + <p> + This madness of our epoch reacted upon the illustrious Gaudissart, and + here follows the history of how it happened. A life-insurance company + having been told of his irresistible eloquence offered him an unheard-of + commission, which he graciously accepted. The bargain concluded and the + treaty signed, our traveller was put in training, or we might say weaned, + by the secretary-general of the enterprise, who freed his mind of its + swaddling-clothes, showed him the dark holes of the business, taught him + its dialect, took the mechanism apart bit by bit, dissected for his + instruction the particular public he was expected to gull, crammed him + with phrases, fed him with impromptu replies, provisioned him with + unanswerable arguments, and, so to speak, sharpened the file of the tongue + which was about to operate upon the life of France. + </p> + <p> + The puppet amply rewarded the pains bestowed upon him. The heads of the + company boasted of the illustrious Gaudissart, showed him such attention + and proclaimed the great talents of this perambulating prospectus so + loudly in the sphere of exalted banking and commercial diplomacy, that the + financial managers of two newspapers (celebrated at that time but since + defunct) were seized with the idea of employing him to get subscribers. + The proprietors of the “Globe,” an organ of Saint-Simonism, and the + “Movement,” a republican journal, each invited the illustrious Gaudissart + to a conference, and proposed to give him ten francs a head for every + subscriber, provided he brought in a thousand, but only five francs if he + got no more than five hundred. The cause of political journalism not + interfering with the pre-accepted cause of life insurance, the bargain was + struck; although Gaudissart demanded an indemnity from the Saint-Simonians + for the eight days he was forced to spend in studying the doctrines of + their apostle, asserting that a prodigious effort of memory and intellect + was necessary to get to the bottom of that “article” and to reason upon it + suitably. He asked nothing, however, from the republicans. In the first + place, he inclined in republican ideas,—the only ones, according to + guadissardian philosophy, which could bring about a rational equality. + Besides which he had already dipped into the conspiracies of the French + “carbonari”; he had been arrested, and released for want of proof; and + finally, as he called the newspaper proprietors to observe, he had lately + grown a mustache, and needed only a hat of certain shape and a pair of + spurs to represent, with due propriety, the Republic. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + For one whole week this commanding genius went every morning to be + Saint-Simonized at the office of the “Globe,” and every afternoon he + betook himself to the life-insurance company, where he learned the + intricacies of financial diplomacy. His aptitude and his memory were + prodigious; so that he was able to start on his peregrinations by the 15th + of April, the date at which he usually opened the spring campaign. Two + large commercial houses, alarmed at the decline of business, implored the + ambitious Gaudissart not to desert the article Paris, and seduced him, it + was said, with large offers, to take their commissions once more. The king + of travellers was amenable to the claims of his old friends, enforced as + they were by the enormous premiums offered to him. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + “Listen, my little Jenny,” he said in a hackney-coach to a pretty florist. + </p> + <p> + All truly great men delight in allowing themselves to be tyrannized over + by a feeble being, and Gaudissart had found his tyrant in Jenny. He was + bringing her home at eleven o’clock from the Gymnase, whither he had taken + her, in full dress, to a proscenium box on the first tier. + </p> + <p> + “On my return, Jenny, I shall refurnish your room in superior style. That + big Matilda, who pesters you with comparisons and her real India shawls + imported by the suite of the Russian ambassador, and her silver plate and + her Russian prince,—who to my mind is nothing but a humbug,—won’t + have a word to say THEN. I consecrate to the adornment of your room all + the ‘Children’ I shall get in the provinces.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that’s a pretty thing to say!” cried the florist. “Monster of a + man! Do you dare to talk to me of your children? Do you suppose I am going + to stand that sort of thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a goose you are, my Jenny! That’s only a figure of speech in our + business.” + </p> + <p> + “A fine business, then!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but listen; if you talk all the time you’ll always be in the + right.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean to be. Upon my word, you take things easy!” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t let me finish. I have taken under my protection a superlative + idea,—a journal, a newspaper, written for children. In our + profession, when travellers have caught, let us suppose, ten subscribers + to the ‘Children’s Journal,’ they say, ‘I’ve got ten Children,’ just as I + say when I get ten subscriptions to a newspaper called the ‘Movement,’ + ‘I’ve got ten Movements.’ Now don’t you see?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all right. Are you going into politics? If you do you’ll get into + Saint-Pelagie, and I shall have to trot down there after you. Oh! if one + only knew what one puts one’s foot into when we love a man, on my word of + honor we would let you alone to take care of yourselves, you men! However, + if you are going away to-morrow we won’t talk of disagreeable things,—that + would be silly.” + </p> + <p> + The coach stopped before a pretty house, newly built in the Rue d’Artois, + where Gaudissart and Jenny climbed to the fourth story. This was the abode + of Mademoiselle Jenny Courand, commonly reported to be privately married + to the illustrious Gaudissart, a rumor which that individual did not deny. + To maintain her supremacy, Jenny kept him to the performance of + innumerable small attentions, and threatened continually to turn him off + if he omitted the least of them. She now ordered him to write to her from + every town, and render a minute account of all his proceedings. + </p> + <p> + “How many ‘Children’ will it take to furnish my chamber?” she asked, + throwing off her shawl and sitting down by a good fire. + </p> + <p> + “I get five sous for each subscriber.” + </p> + <p> + “Delightful! And is it with five sous that you expect to make me rich? + Perhaps you are like the Wandering Jew with your pockets full of money.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Jenny, I shall get a thousand ‘Children.’ Just reflect that children + have never had a newspaper to themselves before. But what a fool I am to + try to explain matters to you,—you can’t understand such things.” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t I? Then tell me,—tell me, Gaudissart, if I’m such a goose why + do you love me?” + </p> + <p> + “Just because you are a goose,—a sublime goose! Listen, Jenny. See + here, I am going to undertake the ‘Globe,’ the ‘Movement,’ the ‘Children,’ + the insurance business, and some of my old articles Paris; instead of + earning a miserable eight thousand a year, I’ll bring back twenty thousand + at least from each trip.” + </p> + <p> + “Unlace me, Gaudissart, and do it right; don’t tighten me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, truly,” said the traveller, complacently; “I shall become a + shareholder in the newspapers, like Finot, one of my friends, the son of a + hatter, who now has thirty thousand francs income, and is going to make + himself a peer of France. When one thinks of that little Popinot,—ah, + mon Dieu! I forgot to tell you that Monsieur Popinot was named minister of + commerce yesterday. Why shouldn’t I be ambitious too? Ha! ha! I could + easily pick up the jargon of those fellows who talk in the chamber, and + bluster with the rest of them. Now, listen to me:— + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, standing behind a chair, “the Press is neither a + tool nor an article of barter: it is, viewed under its political aspects, + an institution. We are bound, in virtue of our position as legislators, to + consider all things politically, and therefore” (here he stopped to get + breath)—“and therefore we must examine the Press and ask ourselves + if it is useful or noxious, if it should be encouraged or put down, taxed + or free. These are serious questions. I feel that I do not waste the time, + always precious, of this Chamber by examining this article—the Press—and + explaining to you its qualities. We are on the verge of an abyss. + Undoubtedly the laws have not the nap which they ought to have—Hein?” + he said, looking at Jenny. “All orators put France on the verge of an + abyss. They either say that or they talk about the chariot of state, or + convulsions, or political horizons. Don’t I know their dodges? I’m up to + all the tricks of all the trades. Do you know why? Because I was born with + a caul; my mother has got it, but I’ll give it to you. You’ll see! I shall + soon be in the government.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn’t I be the Baron Gaudissart, peer of France? Haven’t they + twice elected Monsieur Popinot as deputy from the fourth arrondissement? + He dines with Louis Phillippe. There’s Finot; he is going to be, they say, + a member of the Council. Suppose they send me as ambassador to London? I + tell you I’d nonplus those English! No man ever got the better of + Gaudissart, the illustrious Gaudissart, and nobody ever will. Yes, I say + it! no one ever outwitted me, and no one can—in any walk of life, + politics or impolitics, here or elsewhere. But, for the time being, I must + give myself wholly to the capitalists; to the ‘Globe,’ the ‘Movement,’ the + ‘Children,’ and my article Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be brought up with a round turn, you and your newspapers. I’ll + bet you won’t get further than Poitiers before the police will nab you.” + </p> + <p> + “What will you bet?” + </p> + <p> + “A shawl.” + </p> + <p> + “Done! If I lose that shawl I’ll go back to the article Paris and the hat + business. But as for getting the better of Gaudissart—never! never!” + </p> + <p> + And the illustrious traveller threw himself into position before Jenny, + looked at her proudly, one hand in his waistcoat, his head at + three-quarter profile,—an attitude truly Napoleonic. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how funny you are! what have you been eating to-night?” + </p> + <p> + Gaudissart was thirty-eight years of age, of medium height, stout and fat + like men who roll about continually in stage-coaches, with a face as round + as a pumpkin, ruddy cheeks, and regular features of the type which + sculptors of all lands adopt as a model for statues of Abundance, Law, + Force, Commerce, and the like. His protuberant stomach swelled forth in + the shape of a pear; his legs were small, but active and vigorous. He + caught Jenny up in his arms like a baby and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, young woman!” he said. “What do you know about + Saint-Simonism, antagonism, Fourierism, criticism, heroic enterprise, or + woman’s freedom? I’ll tell you what they are,—ten francs for each + subscription, Madame Gaudissart.” + </p> + <p> + “On my word of honor, you are going crazy, Gaudissart.” + </p> + <p> + “More and more crazy about YOU,” he replied, flinging his hat upon the + sofa. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Gaudissart, having breakfasted gloriously with Jenny, + departed on horseback to work up the chief towns of the district to which + he was assigned by the various enterprises in whose interests he was now + about to exercise his great talents. After spending forty-five days in + beating up the country between Paris and Blois, he remained two weeks at + the latter place to write up his correspondence and make short visits to + the various market towns of the department. The night before he left Blois + for Tours he indited a letter to Mademoiselle Jenny Courand. As the + conciseness and charm of this epistle cannot be equalled by any narration + of ours, and as, moreover, it proves the legitimacy of the tie which + united these two individuals, we produce it here:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “My dear Jenny,—You will lose your wager. Like Napoleon, + Gaudissart the illustrious has his star, but NOT his Waterloo. I + triumph everywhere. Life insurance has done well. Between Paris + and Blois I lodged two millions. But as I get to the centre of + France heads become infinitely harder and millions correspondingly + scarce. The article Paris keeps up its own little jog-trot. It is + a ring on the finger. With all my well-known cunning I spit these + shop-keepers like larks. I got off one hundred and sixty-two + Ternaux shawls at Orleans. I am sure I don’t know what they will + do with them, unless they return them to the backs of the sheep. + + “As to the article journal—the devil! that’s a horse of another + color. Holy saints! how one has to warble before you can teach + these bumpkins a new tune. I have only made sixty-two ‘Movements’: + exactly a hundred less for the whole trip than the shawls in one + town. Those republican rogues! they won’t subscribe. They talk, + they talk; they share your opinions, and presently you are all + agreed that every existing thing must be overturned. You feel sure + your man is going to subscribe. Not a bit of it! If he owns three + feet of ground, enough to grow ten cabbages, or a few trees to + slice into toothpicks, the fellow begins to talk of consolidated + property, taxes, revenues, indemnities,—a whole lot of stuff, and + I have wasted my time and breath on patriotism. It’s a bad + business! Candidly, the ‘Movement’ does not move. I have written + to the directors and told them so. I am sorry for it—on account + of my political opinions. + + “As for the ‘Globe,’ that’s another breed altogether. Just set to + work and talk new doctrines to people you fancy are fools enough + to believe such lies,—why, they think you want to burn their + houses down! It is vain for me to tell them that I speak for + futurity, for posterity, for self-interest properly understood; + for enterprise where nothing can be lost; that man has preyed upon + man long enough; that woman is a slave; that the great + providential thought should be made to triumph; that a way must be + found to arrive at a rational co-ordination of the social fabric, + —in short, the whole reverberation of my sentences. Well, what do + you think? when I open upon them with such ideas these provincials + lock their cupboards as if I wanted to steal their spoons and beg + me to go away! Are not they fools? geese? The ‘Globe’ is smashed. + I said to the proprietors, ‘You are too advanced, you go ahead too + fast: you ought to get a few results; the provinces like results.’ + However, I have made a hundred ‘Globes,’ and I must say, + considering the thick-headedness of these clodhoppers, it is a + miracle. But to do it I had to make them such a lot of promises + that I am sure I don’t know how the globites, globists, globules, + or whatever they call themselves, will ever get out of them. But + they always tell me they can make the world a great deal better + than it is, so I go ahead and prophesy to the value of ten francs + for each subscription. There was one farmer who thought the paper + was agricultural because of its name. I Globed HIM. Bah! he gave + in at once; he had a projecting forehead; all men with projecting + foreheads are ideologists. + + “But the ‘Children’; oh! ah! as to the ‘Children’! I got two + thousand between Paris and Blois. Jolly business! but there is not + much to say. You just show a little vignette to the mother, + pretending to hide it from the child: naturally the child wants to + see, and pulls mamma’s gown and cries for its newspaper, because + ‘Papa has DOT his.’ Mamma can’t let her brat tear the gown; the + gown costs thirty francs, the subscription six—economy; result, + subscription. It is an excellent thing, meets an actual want; it + holds a place between dolls and sugar-plums, the two eternal + necessities of childhood. + + “I have had a quarrel here at the table d’hote about the + newspapers and my opinions. I was unsuspiciously eating my dinner + next to a man with a gray hat who was reading the ‘Debats.’ I said + to myself, ‘Now for my rostrum eloquence. He is tied to the + dynasty; I’ll cook him; this triumph will be capital practice for + my ministerial talents.’ So I went to work and praised his + ‘Debats.’ Hein! if I didn’t lead him along! Thread by thread, I + began to net my man. I launched my four-horse phrases, and the F- + sharp arguments, and all the rest of the cursed stuff. Everybody + listened; and I saw a man who had July as plain as day on his + mustache, just ready to nibble at a ‘Movement.’ Well, I don’t know + how it was, but I unluckily let fall the word ‘blockhead.’ + Thunder! you should have seen my gray hat, my dynastic hat + (shocking bad hat, anyhow), who got the bit in his teeth and was + furiously angry. I put on my grand air—you know—and said to him: + ‘Ah, ca! Monsieur, you are remarkably aggressive; if you are not + content, I am ready to give you satisfaction; I fought in July.’ + ‘Though the father of a family,’ he replied, ‘I am ready—’ + ‘Father of a family!’ I exclaimed; ‘my dear sir, have you any + children?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Twelve years old?’ ‘Just about.’ ‘Well, then, + the “Children’s Journal” is the very thing for you; six francs a + year, one number a month, double columns, edited by great literary + lights, well got up, good paper, engravings from charming sketches + by our best artists, actual colored drawings of the Indies—will + not fade.’ I fired my broadside ‘feelings of a father, etc., + etc.,’—in short, a subscription instead of a quarrel. ‘There’s + nobody but Gaudissart who can get out of things like that,’ said + that little cricket Lamard to the big Bulot at the cafe, when he + told him the story. + + “I leave to-morrow for Amboise. I shall do up Amboise in two days, + and I will write next from Tours, where I shall measure swords + with the inhabitants of that colorless region; colorless, I mean, + from the intellectual and speculative point of view. But, on the + word of a Gaudissart, they shall be toppled over, toppled down— + floored, I say. + + “Adieu, my kitten. Love me always; be faithful; fidelity through + thick and thin is one of the attributes of the Free Woman. Who is + kissing you on the eyelids? + + “Thy Felix Forever.” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + Five days later Gaudissart started from the Hotel des Faisans, at which he + had put up in Tours, and went to Vouvray, a rich and populous district + where the public mind seemed to him susceptible of cultivation. Mounted + upon his horse, he trotted along the embankment thinking no more of his + phrases than an actor thinks of his part which he has played for a hundred + times. It was thus that the illustrious Gaudissart went his cheerful way, + admiring the landscape, and little dreaming that in the happy valleys of + Vouvray his commercial infallibility was about to perish. + </p> + <p> + Here a few remarks upon the public mind of Touraine are essential to our + story. The subtle, satirical, epigrammatic tale-telling spirit stamped on + every page of Rabelais is the faithful expression of the Tourangian mind,—a + mind polished and refined as it should be in a land where the kings of + France long held their court; ardent, artistic, poetic, voluptuous, yet + whose first impulses subside quickly. The softness of the atmosphere, the + beauty of the climate, a certain ease of life and joviality of manners, + smother before long the sentiment of art, narrow the widest heart, and + enervate the strongest will. Transplant the Tourangian, and his fine + qualities develop and lead to great results, as we may see in many spheres + of action: look at Rabelais and Semblancay, Plantin the printer and + Descartes, Boucicault, the Napoleon of his day, and Pinaigrier, who + painted most of the colored glass in our cathedrals; also Verville and + Courier. But the Tourangian, distinguished though he may be in other + regions, sits in his own home like an Indian on his mat or a Turk on his + divan. He employs his wit in laughing at his neighbor and in making merry + all his days; and when at last he reaches the end of his life, he is still + a happy man. Touraine is like the Abbaye of Theleme, so vaunted in the + history of Gargantua. There we may find the complying sisterhoods of that + famous tale, and there the good cheer celebrated by Rabelais reigns in + glory. + </p> + <p> + As to the do-nothingness of that blessed land it is sublime and well + expressed in a certain popular legend: “Tourangian, are you hungry, do you + want some soup?” “Yes.” “Bring your porringer.” “Then I am not hungry.” Is + it to the joys of the vineyard and the harmonious loveliness of this + garden land of France, is it to the peace and tranquillity of a region + where the step of an invader has never trodden, that we owe the soft + compliance of these unconstrained and easy manners? To such questions no + answer. Enter this Turkey of sunny France, and you will stay there,—lazy, + idle, happy. You may be as ambitious as Napoleon, as poetic as Lord Byron, + and yet a power unknown, invisible, will compel you to bury your poetry + within your soul and turn your projects into dreams. + </p> + <p> + The illustrious Gaudissart was fated to encounter here in Vouvray one of + those indigenous jesters whose jests are not intolerable solely because + they have reached the perfection of the mocking art. Right or wrong, the + Tourangians are fond of inheriting from their parents. Consequently the + doctrines of Saint-Simon were especially hated and villified among them. + In Touraine hatred and villification take the form of superb disdain and + witty maliciousness worthy of the land of good stories and practical + jokes,—a spirit which, alas! is yielding, day by day, to that other + spirit which Lord Byron has characterized as “English cant.” + </p> + <p> + For his sins, after getting down at the Soleil d’Or, an inn kept by a + former grenadier of the imperial guard named Mitouflet, married to a rich + widow, the illustrious traveller, after a brief consultation with the + landlord, betook himself to the knave of Vouvray, the jovial merry-maker, + the comic man of the neighborhood, compelled by fame and nature to supply + the town with merriment. This country Figaro was once a dyer, and now + possessed about seven or eight thousand francs a year, a pretty house on + the slope of the hill, a plump little wife, and robust health. For ten + years he had had nothing to do but take care of his wife and his garden, + marry his daughter, play whist in the evenings, keep the run of all the + gossip in the neighborhood, meddle with the elections, squabble with the + large proprietors, and order good dinners; or else trot along the + embankment to find out what was going on in Tours, torment the cure, and + finally, by way of dramatic entertainment, assist at the sale of lands in + the neighborhood of his vineyards. In short, he led the true Tourangian + life,—the life of a little country-townsman. He was, moreover, an + important member of the bourgeoisie,—a leader among the small + proprietors, all of them envious, jealous, delighted to catch up and + retail gossip and calumnies against the aristocracy; dragging things down + to their own level; and at war with all kinds of superiority, which they + deposited with the fine composure of ignorance. Monsieur Vernier—such + was the name of this great little man—was just finishing his + breakfast, with his wife and daughter on either side of him, when + Gaudissart entered the room through a window that looked out on the Loire + and the Cher, and lighted one of the gayest dining-rooms of that gay land. + </p> + <p> + “Is this Monsieur Vernier himself?” said the traveller, bending his + vertebral column with such grace that it seemed to be elastic. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur,” said the mischievous ex-dyer, with a scrutinizing look + which took in the style of man he had to deal with. + </p> + <p> + “I come, Monsieur,” resumed Gaudissart, “to solicit the aid of your + knowledge and insight to guide my efforts in this district, where + Mitouflet tells me you have the greatest influence. Monsieur, I am sent + into the provinces on an enterprise of the utmost importance, undertaken + by bankers who—” + </p> + <p> + “Who mean to win our tricks,” said Vernier, long used to the ways of + commercial travellers and to their periodical visits. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” replied Gaudissart, with native impudence. “But with your + fine tact, Monsieur, you must be aware that we can’t win tricks from + people unless it is their interest to play at cards. I beg you not to + confound me with the vulgar herd of travellers who succeed by humbug or + importunity. I am no longer a commercial traveller. I was one, and I glory + in it; but to-day my mission is of higher importance, and should place me, + in the minds of superior people, among those who devote themselves to the + enlightenment of their country. The most distinguished bankers in Paris + take part in this affair; not fictitiously, as in some shameful + speculations which I call rat-traps. No, no, nothing of the kind! I should + never condescend—never!—to hawk about such CATCH-FOOLS. No, + Monsieur; the most respectable houses in Paris are concerned in this + enterprise; and their interests guarantee—” + </p> + <p> + Hereupon Gaudissart drew forth his whole string of phrases, and Monsieur + Vernier let him go the length of his tether, listening with apparent + interest which completely deceived him. But after the word “guarantee” + Vernier paid no further attention to our traveller’s rhetoric, and turned + over in his mind how to play him some malicious trick and deliver a land, + justly considered half-savage by speculators unable to get a bite of it, + from the inroads of these Parisian caterpillars. + </p> + <p> + At the head of an enchanting valley, called the Valley Coquette because of + its windings and the curves which return upon each other at every step, + and seem more and more lovely as we advance, whether we ascend or descend + them, there lived, in a little house surrounded by vineyards, a + half-insane man named Margaritis. He was of Italian origin, married, but + childless; and his wife took care of him with a courage fully appreciated + by the neighborhood. Madame Margaritis was undoubtedly in real danger from + a man who, among other fancies, persisted in carrying about with him two + long-bladed knives with which he sometimes threatened her. Who has not + seen the wonderful self-devotion shown by provincials who consecrate their + lives to the care of sufferers, possibly because of the disgrace heaped + upon a bourgeoise if she allows her husband or children to be taken to a + public hospital? Moreover, who does not know the repugnance which these + people feel to the payment of the two or three thousand francs required at + Charenton or in the private lunatic asylums? If any one had spoken to + Madame Margaritis of Doctors Dubuisson, Esquirol, Blanche, and others, she + would have preferred, with noble indignation, to keep her thousands and + take care of the “good-man” at home. + </p> + <p> + As the incomprehensible whims of this lunatic are connected with the + current of our story, we are compelled to exhibit the most striking of + them. Margaritis went out as soon as it rained, and walked about + bare-headed in his vineyard. At home he made incessant inquiries for + newspapers; to satisfy him his wife and the maid-servant used to give him + an old journal called the “Indre-et-Loire,” and for seven years he had + never yet perceived that he was reading the same number over and over + again. Perhaps a doctor would have observed with interest the connection + that evidently existed between the recurring and spasmodic demands for the + newspaper and the atmospheric variations of the weather. + </p> + <p> + Usually when his wife had company, which happened nearly every evening, + for the neighbors, pitying her situation, would frequently come to play at + boston in her salon, Margaritis remained silent in a corner and never + stirred. But the moment ten o’clock began to strike on a clock which he + kept shut up in a large oblong closet, he rose at the stroke with the + mechanical precision of the figures which are made to move by springs in + the German toys. He would then advance slowly towards the players, give + them a glance like the automatic gaze of the Greeks and Turks exhibited on + the Boulevard du Temple, and say sternly, “Go away!” There were days when + he had lucid intervals and could give his wife excellent advice as to the + sale of their wines; but at such times he became extremely annoying, and + would ransack her closets and steal her delicacies, which he devoured in + secret. Occasionally, when the usual visitors made their appearance he + would treat them with civility; but as a general thing his remarks and + replies were incoherent. For instance, a lady once asked him, “How do you + feel to-day, Monsieur Margaritis?” “I have grown a beard,” he replied, + “have you?” “Are you better?” asked another. “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!” was + the answer. But the greater part of the time he gazed stolidly at his + guests without uttering a word; and then his wife would say, “The good-man + does not hear anything to-day.” + </p> + <p> + On two or three occasions in the course of five years, and usually about + the time of the equinox, this remark had driven him to frenzy; he + flourished his knives and shouted, “That joke dishonors me!” + </p> + <p> + As for his daily life, he ate, drank, and walked about like other men in + sound health; and so it happened that he was treated with about the same + respect and attention that we give to a heavy piece of furniture. Among + his many absurdities was one of which no man had as yet discovered the + object, although by long practice the wiseheads of the community had + learned to unravel the meaning of most of his vagaries. He insisted on + keeping a sack of flour and two puncheons of wine in the cellar of his + house, and he would allow no one to lay hands on them. But then the month + of June came round he grew uneasy with the restless anxiety of a madman + about the sale of the sack and the puncheons. Madame Margaritis could + nearly always persuade him that the wine had been sold at an enormous + price, which she paid over to him, and which he hid so cautiously that + neither his wife nor the servant who watched him had ever been able to + discover its hiding-place. + </p> + <p> + The evening before Gaudissart reached Vouvray Madame Margaritis had had + more difficulty than usual in deceiving her husband, whose mind happened + to be uncommonly lucid. + </p> + <p> + “I really don’t know how I shall get through to-morrow,” she had said to + Madame Vernier. “Would you believe it, the good-man insists on watching + his two casks of wine. He has worried me so this whole day, that I had to + show him two full puncheons. Our neighbor, Pierre Champlain, fortunately + had two which he had not sold. I asked him to kindly let me have them + rolled into our cellar; and oh, dear! now that the good-man has seen them + he insists on bottling them off himself!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Vernier had related the poor woman’s trouble to her husband just + before the entrance of Gaudissart, and at the first words of the famous + traveller Vernier determined that he should be made to grapple with + Margaritis. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the ex-dyer, as soon as the illustrious Gaudissart had + fired his first broadside, “I will not hide from you the great + difficulties which my native place offers to your enterprise. This part of + the country goes along, as it were, in the rough,—‘suo modo.’ It is + a country where new ideas don’t take hold. We live as our fathers lived, + we amuse ourselves with four meals a day, and we cultivate our vineyards + and sell our wines to the best advantage. Our business principle is to + sell things for more than they cost us; we shall stick in that rut, and + neither God nor the devil can get us out of it. I will, however, give you + some advice, and good advice is an egg in the hand. There is in this town + a retired banker in whose wisdom I have—I, particularly—the + greatest confidence. If you can obtain his support, I will add mine. If + your proposals have real merit, if we are convinced of the advantage of + your enterprise, the approval of Monsieur Margaritis (which carries with + it mine) will open to you at least twenty rich houses in Vouvray who will + be glad to try your specifics.” + </p> + <p> + When Madame Vernier heard the name of the lunatic she raised her head and + looked at her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, precisely; my wife intends to call on Madame Margaritis with one of + our neighbors. Wait a moment, and you can accompany these ladies—You + can pick up Madame Fontanieu on your way,” said the wily dyer, winking at + his wife. + </p> + <p> + To pick out the greatest gossip, the sharpest tongue, the most inveterate + cackler of the neighborhood! It meant that Madame Vernier was to take a + witness to the scene between the traveller and the lunatic which should + keep the town in laughter for a month. Monsieur and Madame Vernier played + their part so well that Gaudissart had no suspicions, and straightway fell + into the trap. He gallantly offered his arm to Madame Vernier, and + believed that he made, as they went along, the conquest of both ladies, + for those benefit he sparkled with wit and humor and undetected puns. + </p> + <p> + The house of the pretended banker stood at the entrance to the Valley + Coquette. The place, called La Fuye, had nothing remarkable about it. On + the ground floor was a large wainscoted salon, on either side of which + opened the bedroom of the good-man and that of his wife. The salon was + entered from an ante-chamber, which served as the dining-room and + communicated with the kitchen. This lower door, which was wholly without + the external charm usually seen even in the humblest dwellings in + Touraine, was covered by a mansard story, reached by a stairway built on + the outside of the house against the gable end and protected by a + shed-roof. A little garden, full of marigolds, syringas, and elder-bushes, + separated the house from the fields; and all around the courtyard were + detached buildings which were used in the vintage season for the various + processes of making wine. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Margaritis was seated in an arm-chair covered with yellow Utrecht velvet, + near the window of the salon, and he did not stir as the two ladies + entered with Gaudissart. His thoughts were running on the casks of wine. + He was a spare man, and his bald head, garnished with a few spare locks at + the back of it, was pear-shaped in conformation. His sunken eyes, + overtopped by heavy black brows and surrounded by discolored circles, his + nose, thin and sharp like the blade of a knife, the strongly marked + jawbone, the hollow cheeks, and the oblong tendency of all these lines, + together with his unnaturally long and flat chin, contributed to give a + peculiar expression to his countenance,—something between that of a + retired professor of rhetoric and a rag-picker. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Margaritis,” cried Madame Vernier, addressing him, “come, stir + about! Here is a gentleman whom my husband sends to you, and you must + listen to him with great attention. Put away your mathematics and talk to + him.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing these words the lunatic rose, looked at Gaudissart, made him a + sign to sit down, and said, “Let us converse, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + The two women went into Madame Margaritis’ bedroom, leaving the door open + so as to hear the conversation, and interpose if it became necessary. They + were hardly installed before Monsieur Vernier crept softly up through the + field and, opening a window, got into the bedroom without noise. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur has doubtless been in business—?” began Gaudissart. + </p> + <p> + “Public business,” answered Margaritis, interrupting him. “I pacificated + Calabria under the reign of King Murat.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! if he hasn’t gone to Calabria!” whispered Monsieur Vernier. + </p> + <p> + “In that case,” said Gaudissart, “we shall quickly understand each other.” + </p> + <p> + “I am listening,” said Margaritis, striking the attitude taken by a man + when he poses to a portrait-painter. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Gaudissart, who chanced to be turning his watch-key with + a rotatory and periodical click which caught the attention of the lunatic + and contributed no doubt to keep him quiet. “Monsieur, if you were not a + man of superior intelligence” (the fool bowed), “I should content myself + with merely laying before you the material advantages of this enterprise, + whose psychological aspects it would be a waste of time to explain to you. + Listen! Of all kinds of social wealth, is not time the most precious? To + economize time is, consequently, to become wealthy. Now, is there anything + that consumes so much time as those anxieties which I call ‘pot-boiling’?—a + vulgar expression, but it puts the whole question in a nutshell. For + instance, what can eat up more time than the inability to give proper + security to persons from whom you seek to borrow money when, poor at the + moment, you are nevertheless rich in hope?” + </p> + <p> + “Money,—yes, that’s right,” said Margaritis. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Monsieur, I am sent into the departments by a company of bankers + and capitalists, who have apprehended the enormous waste which rising men + of talent are thus making of time, and, consequently, of intelligence and + productive ability. We have seized the idea of capitalizing for such men + their future prospects, and cashing their talents by discounting—what? + TIME; securing the value of it to their survivors. I may say that it is no + longer a question of economizing time, but of giving it a price, a + quotation; of representing in a pecuniary sense those products developed + by time which presumably you possess in the region of your intellect; of + representing also the moral qualities with which you are endowed, and + which are, Monsieur, living forces,—as living as a cataract, as a + steam-engine of three, ten, twenty, fifty horse-power. Ha! this is + progress! the movement onward to a better state of things; a movement born + of the spirit of our epoch; a movement essentially progressive, as I shall + prove to you when we come to consider the principles involved in the + logical co-ordination of the social fabric. I will now explain my meaning + by literal examples, leaving aside all purely abstract reasoning, which I + call the mathematics of thought. Instead of being, as you are, a + proprietor living upon your income, let us suppose that you are painter, a + musician, an artist, or a poet—” + </p> + <p> + “I am a painter,” said the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “Well, so be it. I see you take my metaphor. You are a painter; you have a + glorious future, a rich future before you. But I go still farther—” + </p> + <p> + At these words the madman looked anxiously at Gaudissart, thinking he + meant to go away; but was reassured when he saw that he kept his seat. + </p> + <p> + “You may even be nothing at all,” said Gaudissart, going on with his + phrases, “but you are conscious of yourself; you feel yourself—” + </p> + <p> + “I feel myself,” said the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “—you feel yourself a great man; you say to yourself, ‘I will be a + minister of state.’ Well, then, you—painter, artist, man of letters, + statesman of the future—you reckon upon your talents, you estimate + their value, you rate them, let us say, at a hundred thousand crowns—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you give me a hundred thousand crowns?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur, as you will see. Either your heirs and assigns will + receive them if you die, for the company contemplates that event, or you + will receive them in the long run through your works of art, your + writings, or your fortunate speculations during your lifetime. But, as I + have already had the honor to tell you, when you have once fixed upon the + value of your intellectual capital,—for it is intellectual capital,—seize + that idea firmly,—intellectual—” + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” said the fool. + </p> + <p> + “You sign a policy of insurance with a company which recognizes in you a + value of a hundred thousand crowns; in you, poet—” + </p> + <p> + “I am a painter,” said the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” resumed Gaudissart,—“painter, poet, musician, statesman—and + binds itself to pay them over to your family, your heirs, if, by reason of + your death, the hopes foundered on your intellectual capital should be + overthrown for you personally. The payment of the premium is all that is + required to protect—” + </p> + <p> + “The money-box,” said the lunatic, sharply interrupting him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! naturally; yes. I see that Monsieur understands business.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the madman. “I established the Territorial Bank in the Rue des + Fosses-Montmartre at Paris in 1798.” + </p> + <p> + “For,” resumed Gaudissart, going back to his premium, “in order to meet + the payments on the intellectual capital which each man recognizes and + esteems in himself, it is of course necessary that each should pay a + certain premium, three per cent; an annual due of three per cent. Thus, by + the payment of this trifling sum, a mere nothing, you protect your family + from disastrous results at your death—” + </p> + <p> + “But I live,” said the fool. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! yes; you mean if you should live long? That is the usual objection,—a + vulgar prejudice. I fully agree that if we had not foreseen and demolished + it we might feel we were unworthy of being—what? What are we, after + all? Book-keepers in the great Bureau of Intellect. Monsieur, I don’t + apply these remarks to you, but I meet on all sides men who make it a + business to teach new ideas and disclose chains of reasoning to people who + turn pale at the first word. On my word of honor, it is pitiable! But + that’s the way of the world, and I don’t pretend to reform it. Your + objection, Monsieur, is really sheer nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “Why?—this is why: because, if you live and possess the qualities + which are estimated in your policy against the chances of death,—now, + attend to this—” + </p> + <p> + “I am attending.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, you have succeeded in life; and you have succeeded because of + the said insurance. You doubled your chances of success by getting rid of + the anxieties you were dragging about with you in the shape of wife and + children who might otherwise be left destitute at your death. If you + attain this certainty, you have touched the value of your intellectual + capital, on which the cost of insurance is but a trifle,—a mere + trifle, a bagatelle.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a fine idea!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! is it not, Monsieur?” cried Gaudissart. “I call this enterprise the + exchequer of beneficence; a mutual insurance against poverty; or, if you + like it better, the discounting, the cashing, of talent. For talent, + Monsieur, is a bill of exchange which Nature gives to the man of genius, + and which often has a long time to run before it falls due.” + </p> + <p> + “That is usury!” cried Margaritis. + </p> + <p> + “The devil! he’s keen, the old fellow! I’ve made a mistake,” thought + Gaudissart, “I must catch him with other chaff. I’ll try humbug No. 1. Not + at all,” he said aloud, “for you who—” + </p> + <p> + “Will you take a glass of wine?” asked Margaritis. + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure,” replied Gaudissart. + </p> + <p> + “Wife, give us a bottle of the wine that is in the puncheons. You are here + at the very head of Vouvray,” he continued, with a gesture of the hand, + “the vineyard of Margaritis.” + </p> + <p> + The maid-servant brought glasses and a bottle of wine of the vintage of + 1819. The good-man filled a glass with circumspection and offered it to + Gaudissart, who drank it up. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you are joking, Monsieur!” exclaimed the commercial traveller. + “Surely this is Madeira, true Madeira?” + </p> + <p> + “So you think,” said the fool. “The trouble with our Vouvray wine is that + it is neither a common wine, nor a wine that can be drunk with the + entremets. It is too generous, too strong. It is often sold in Paris + adulterated with brandy and called Madeira. The wine-merchants buy it up, + when our vintage has not been good enough for the Dutch and Belgian + markets, to mix it with wines grown in the neighborhood of Paris, and call + it Bordeaux. But what you are drinking just now, my good Monsieur, is a + wine for kings, the pure Head of Vouvray,—that’s it’s name. I have + two puncheons, only two puncheons of it left. People who like fine wines, + high-class wines, who furnish their table with qualities that can’t be + bought in the regular trade,—and there are many persons in Paris who + have that vanity,—well, such people send direct to us for this wine. + Do you know any one who—?” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go on with what we were saying,” interposed Gaudissart. + </p> + <p> + “We are going on,” said the fool. “My wine is capital; you are capital, + capitalist, intellectual capital, capital wine,—all the same + etymology, don’t you see? hein? Capital, ‘caput,’ head, Head of Vouvray, + that’s my wine,—it’s all one thing.” + </p> + <p> + “So that you have realized your intellectual capital through your wines? + Ah, I see!” said Gaudissart. + </p> + <p> + “I have realized,” said the lunatic. “Would you like to buy my puncheons? + you shall have them on good terms.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I was merely speaking,” said the illustrious Gaudissart, “of the + results of insurance and the employment of intellectual capital. I will + resume my argument.” + </p> + <p> + The lunatic calmed down, and fell once more into position. + </p> + <p> + “I remarked, Monsieur, that if you die the capital will be paid to your + family without discussion.” + </p> + <p> + “Without discussion?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, unless there were suicide.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s quibbling.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Monsieur; you are aware that suicide is one of those acts which are + easy to prove—” + </p> + <p> + “In France,” said the fool; “but—” + </p> + <p> + “But in other countries?” said Gaudissart. “Well, Monsieur, to cut short + discussion on this point, I will say, once for all, that death in foreign + countries or on the field of battle is outside of our—” + </p> + <p> + “Then what are you insuring? Nothing at all!” cried Margaritis. “My bank, + my Territorial Bank, rested upon—” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all?” exclaimed Gaudissart, interrupting the good-man. + “Nothing at all? What do you call sickness, and afflictions, and poverty, + and passions? Don’t go off on exceptional points.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! no points,” said the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “Now, what’s the result of all this?” cried Gaudissart. “To you, a banker, + I can sum up the profits in a few words. Listen. A man lives; he has a + future; he appears well; he lives, let us say, by his art; he wants money; + he tries to get it,—he fails. Civilization withholds cash from this + man whose thought could master civilization, and ought to master it, and + will master it some day with a brush, a chisel, with words, ideas, + theories, systems. Civilization is atrocious! It denies bread to the men + who give it luxury. It starves them on sneers and curses, the beggarly + rascal! My words may be strong, but I shall not retract them. Well, this + great but neglected man comes to us; we recognize his greatness; we salute + him with respect; we listen to him. He says to us: ‘Gentlemen, my life and + talents are worth so much; on my productions I will pay you such or such + percentage.’ Very good; what do we do? Instantly, without reserve or + hesitation, we admit him to the great festivals of civilization as an + honored guest—” + </p> + <p> + “You need wine for that,” interposed the madman. + </p> + <p> + “—as an honored guest. He signs the insurance policy; he takes our + bits of paper,—scraps, rags, miserable rags!—which, + nevertheless, have more power in the world than his unaided genius. Then, + if he wants money, every one will lend it to him on those rags. At the + Bourse, among bankers, wherever he goes, even at the usurers, he will find + money because he can give security. Well, Monsieur, is not that a great + gulf to bridge over in our social system? But that is only one aspect of + our work. We insure debtors by another scheme of policies and premiums. We + offer annuities at rates graduated according to ages, on a sliding-scale + infinitely more advantageous than what are called tontines, which are + based on tables of mortality that are notoriously false. Our company deals + with large masses of men; consequently the annuitants are secure from + those distressing fears which sadden old age,—too sad already!—fears + which pursue those who receive annuities from private sources. You see, + Monsieur, that we have estimated life under all its aspects.” + </p> + <p> + “Sucked it at both ends,” said the lunatic. “Take another glass of wine. + You’ve earned it. You must line your inside with velvet if you are going + to pump at it like that every day. Monsieur, the wine of Vouvray, if well + kept, is downright velvet.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, what do you think of it all?” said Gaudissart, emptying his glass. + </p> + <p> + “It is very fine, very new, very useful; but I like the discounts I get at + my Territorial Bank, Rue des Fosses-Montmartre.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, Monsieur,” answered Gaudissart; “but that sort of + thing is taken and retaken, made and remade, every day. You have also + hypothecating banks which lend upon landed property and redeem it on a + large scale. But that is a narrow idea compared to our system of + consolidating hopes,—consolidating hopes! coagulating, so to speak, + the aspirations born in every soul, and insuring the realization of our + dreams. It needed our epoch, Monsieur, the epoch of transition—transition + and progress—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, progress,” muttered the lunatic, with his glass at his lips. “I like + progress. That is what I’ve told them many times—” + </p> + <p> + “The ‘Times’!” cried Gaudissart, who did not catch the whole sentence. + “The ‘Times’ is a bad newspaper. If you read that, I am sorry for you.” + </p> + <p> + “The newspaper!” cried Margaritis. “Of course! Wife! wife! where is the + newspaper?” he cried, going towards the next room. + </p> + <p> + “If you are interested in newspapers,” said Gaudissart, changing his + attack, “we are sure to understand each other.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but before we say anything about that, tell me what you think of + this wine.” + </p> + <p> + “Delicious!” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us finish the bottle.” The lunatic poured out a thimbleful for + himself and filled Gaudissart’s glass. “Well, Monsieur, I have two + puncheons left of the same wine; if you find it good we can come to + terms.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Gaudissart. “The fathers of the Saint-Simonian faith have + authorized me to send them all the commodities I—But allow me to + tell you about their noble newspaper. You, who have understood the whole + question of insurance so thoroughly, and who are willing to assist my work + in this district—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Margaritis, “if—” + </p> + <p> + “If I take your wine; I understand perfectly. Your wine is very good, + Monsieur; it puts the stomach in a glow.” + </p> + <p> + “They make champagne out of it; there is a man from Paris who comes here + and makes it in Tours.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt of it, Monsieur. The ‘Globe,’ of which we were speaking—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’ve gone over it,” said Margaritis. + </p> + <p> + “I was sure of it!” exclaimed Gaudissart. “Monsieur, you have a fine + frontal development; a pate—excuse the word—which our + gentlemen call ‘horse-head.’ There’s a horse element in the head of every + great man. Genius will make itself known; but sometimes it happens that + great men, in spite of their gifts, remain obscure. Such was very nearly + the case with Saint-Simon; also with Monsieur Vico,—a strong man + just beginning to shoot up; I am proud of Vico. Now, here we enter upon + the new theory and formula of humanity. Attention, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Attention!” said the fool, falling into position. + </p> + <p> + “Man’s spoliation of man—by which I mean bodies of men living upon + the labor of other men—ought to have ceased with the coming of + Christ, I say CHRIST, who was sent to proclaim the equality of man in the + sight of God. But what is the fact? Equality up to our day has been an + ‘ignus fatuus,’ a chimera. Saint-Simon has arisen as the complement of + Christ; as the modern exponent of the doctrine of equality, or rather of + its practice, for theory has served its time—” + </p> + <p> + “Is he liberated?” asked the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “Like liberalism, it has had its day. There is a nobler future before us: + a new faith, free labor, free growth, free production, individual + progress, a social co-ordination in which each man shall receive the full + worth of his individual labor, in which no man shall be preyed upon by + other men who, without capacity of their own, compel ALL to work for the + profit of ONE. From this comes the doctrine of—” + </p> + <p> + “How about servants?” demanded the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “They will remain servants if they have no capacity beyond it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what’s the good of your doctrine?” + </p> + <p> + “To judge of this doctrine, Monsieur, you must consider it from a higher + point of view: you must take a general survey of humanity. Here we come to + the theories of Ballance: do you know his Palingenesis?” + </p> + <p> + “I am fond of them,” said the fool, who thought he said “ices.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” returned Gaudissart. “Well, then, if the palingenistic aspects of + the successive transformations of the spiritualized globe have struck, + stirred, roused you, then, my dear sir, the ‘Globe’ newspaper,—noble + name which proclaims its mission,—the ‘Globe’ is an organ, a guide, + who will explain to you with the coming of each day the conditions under + which this vast political and moral change will be effected. The gentlemen + who—” + </p> + <p> + “Do they drink wine?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur; their houses are kept up in the highest style; I may say, + in prophetic style. Superb salons, large receptions, the apex of social + life—” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” remarked the lunatic, “the workmen who pull things down want wine + as much as those who put things up.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said the illustrious Gaudissart, “and all the more, Monsieur, when + they pull down with one hand and build up with the other, like the + apostles of the ‘Globe.’” + </p> + <p> + “They want good wine; Head of Vouvray, two puncheons, three hundred + bottles, only one hundred francs,—a trifle.” + </p> + <p> + “How much is that a bottle?” said Gaudissart, calculating. “Let me see; + there’s the freight and the duty,—it will come to about seven sous. + Why, it wouldn’t be a bad thing: they give more for worse wines—(Good! + I’ve got him!” thought Gaudissart, “he wants to sell me wine which I want; + I’ll master him)—Well, Monsieur,” he continued, “those who argue + usually come to an agreement. Let us be frank with each other. You have + great influence in this district—” + </p> + <p> + “I should think so!” said the madman; “I am the Head of Vouvray!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I see that you thoroughly comprehend the insurance of intellectual + capital—” + </p> + <p> + “Thoroughly.” + </p> + <p> + “—and that you have measured the full importance of the ‘Globe’—” + </p> + <p> + “Twice; on foot.” + </p> + <p> + Gaudissart was listening to himself and not to the replies of his hearer. + </p> + <p> + “Therefore, in view of your circumstances and of your age, I quite + understand that you have no need of insurance for yourself; but, Monsieur, + you might induce others to insure, either because of their inherent + qualities which need development, or for the protection of their families + against a precarious future. Now, if you will subscribe to the ‘Globe,’ + and give me your personal assistance in this district on behalf of + insurance, especially life-annuity,—for the provinces are much + attached to annuities—Well, if you will do this, then we can come to + an understanding about the wine. Will you take the ‘Globe’?” + </p> + <p> + “I stand on the globe.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you advance its interests in this district?” + </p> + <p> + “I advance.” + </p> + <p> + “And?” + </p> + <p> + “And—” + </p> + <p> + “And I—but you do subscribe, don’t you, to the ‘Globe’?” + </p> + <p> + “The globe, good thing, for life,” said the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “For life, Monsieur?—ah, I see! yes, you are right: it is full of + life, vigor, intellect, science,—absolutely crammed with science,—well + printed, clear type, well set up; what I call ‘good nap.’ None of your + botched stuff, cotton and wool, trumpery; flimsy rubbish that rips if you + look at it. It is deep; it states questions on which you can meditate at + your leisure; it is the very thing to make time pass agreeably in the + country.” + </p> + <p> + “That suits me,” said the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “It only costs a trifle,—eighty francs.” + </p> + <p> + “That won’t suit me,” said the lunatic. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” cried Gaudissart, “of course you have got grandchildren? + There’s the ‘Children’s Journal’; that only costs seven francs a year.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; take my wine, and I will subscribe to the children. That suits + me very well: a fine idea! intellectual product, child. That’s man living + upon man, hein?” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve hit it, Monsieur,” said Gaudissart. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve hit it!” + </p> + <p> + “You consent to push me in the district?” + </p> + <p> + “In the district.” + </p> + <p> + “I have your approbation?” + </p> + <p> + “You have it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Monsieur, I take your wine at a hundred francs—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! hundred and ten—” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur! A hundred and ten for the company, but a hundred to me. I + enable you to make a sale; you owe me a commission.” + </p> + <p> + “Charge ‘em a hundred and twenty,”—“cent vingt” (“sans vin,” without + wine). + </p> + <p> + “Capital pun that!” + </p> + <p> + “No, puncheons. About that wine—” + </p> + <p> + “Better and better! why, you are a wit.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’m that,” said the fool. “Come out and see my vineyards.” + </p> + <p> + “Willingly, the wine is getting into my head,” said the illustrious + Gaudissart, following Monsieur Margaritis, who marched him from row to row + and hillock to hillock among the vines. The three ladies and Monsieur + Vernier, left to themselves, went off into fits of laughter as they + watched the traveller and the lunatic discussing, gesticulating, stopping + short, resuming their walk, and talking vehemently. + </p> + <p> + “I wish the good-man hadn’t carried him off,” said Vernier. + </p> + <p> + Finally the pair returned, walking with the eager step of men who were in + haste to finish up a matter of business. + </p> + <p> + “He has got the better of the Parisian, damn him!” cried Vernier. + </p> + <p> + And so it was. To the huge delight of the lunatic our illustrious + Gaudissart sat down at a card-table and wrote an order for the delivery of + the two casks of wine. Margaritis, having carefully read it over, counted + out seven francs for his subscription to the “Children’s Journal” and gave + them to the traveller. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu until to-morrow, Monsieur,” said Gaudissart, twisting his + watch-key. “I shall have the honor to call for you to-morrow. Meantime, + send the wine at once to Paris to the address I have given you, and the + price will be remitted immediately.” + </p> + <p> + Gaudissart, however, was a Norman, and he had no idea of making any + agreement which was not reciprocal. He therefore required his promised + supporter to sign a bond (which the lunatic carefully read over) to + deliver two puncheons of the wine called “Head of Vouvray,” vineyard of + Margaritis. + </p> + <p> + This done, the illustrious Gaudissart departed in high feather, humming, + as he skipped along,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The King of the South, + He burned his mouth,” etc. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + The illustrious Gaudissart returned to the Soleil d’Or, where he naturally + conversed with the landlord while waiting for dinner. Mitouflet was an old + soldier, guilelessly crafty, like the peasantry of the Loire; he never + laughed at a jest, but took it with the gravity of a man accustomed to the + roar of cannon and to make his own jokes under arms. + </p> + <p> + “You have some very strong-minded people here,” said Gaudissart, leaning + against the door-post and lighting his cigar at Mitouflet’s pipe. + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean?” asked Mitouflet. + </p> + <p> + “I mean people who are rough-shod on political and financial ideas.” + </p> + <p> + “Whom have you seen? if I may ask without indiscretion,” said the landlord + innocently, expectorating after the adroit and periodical fashion of + smokers. + </p> + <p> + “A fine, energetic fellow named Margaritis.” + </p> + <p> + Mitouflet cast two glances in succession at his guest which were + expressive of chilling irony. + </p> + <p> + “May be; the good-man knows a deal. He knows too much for other folks, who + can’t always understand him.” + </p> + <p> + “I can believe it, for he thoroughly comprehends the abstruse principles + of finance.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the innkeeper, “and for my part, I am sorry he is a lunatic.” + </p> + <p> + “A lunatic! What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, crazy,—cracked, as people are when they are insane,” answered + Mitouflet. “But he is not dangerous; his wife takes care of him. Have you + been arguing with him?” added the pitiless landlord; “that must have been + funny!” + </p> + <p> + “Funny!” cried Gaudissart. “Funny! Then your Monsieur Vernier has been + making fun of me!” + </p> + <p> + “Did he send you there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Wife! wife! come here and listen. If Monsieur Vernier didn’t take it into + his head to send this gentleman to talk to Margaritis!” + </p> + <p> + “What in the world did you say to each other, my dear, good Monsieur?” + said the wife. “Why, he’s crazy!” + </p> + <p> + “He sold me two casks of wine.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you buy them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But that is his delusion; he thinks he sells his wine, and he hasn’t + any.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” snorted the traveller, “then I’ll go straight to Monsieur Vernier + and thank him.” + </p> + <p> + And Gaudissart departed, boiling over with rage, to shake the ex-dyer, + whom he found in his salon, laughing with a company of friends to whom he + had already recounted the tale. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the prince of travellers, darting a savage glance at his + enemy, “you are a scoundrel and a blackguard; and under pain of being + thought a turn-key,—a species of being far below a galley-slave,—you + will give me satisfaction for the insult you dared to offer me in sending + me to a man whom you knew to be a lunatic! Do you hear me, Monsieur + Vernier, dyer?” + </p> + <p> + Such was the harangue which Gaudissart prepared as he went along, as a + tragedian makes ready for his entrance on the scene. + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Vernier, delighted at the presence of an audience, “do you + think we have no right to make fun of a man who comes here, bag and + baggage, and demands that we hand over our property because, forsooth, he + is pleased to call us great men, painters, artists, poets,—mixing us + up gratuitously with a set of fools who have neither house nor home, nor + sous nor sense? Why should we put up with a rascal who comes here and + wants us to feather his nest by subscribing to a newspaper which preaches + a new religion whose first doctrine is, if you please, that we are not to + inherit from our fathers and mothers? On my sacred word of honor, Pere + Margaritis said things a great deal more sensible. And now, what are you + complaining about? You and Margaritis seemed to understand each other. The + gentlemen here present can testify that if you had talked to the whole + canton you couldn’t have been as well understood.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all very well for you to say; but I have been insulted, Monsieur, + and I demand satisfaction!” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, Monsieur! consider yourself insulted, if you like. I shall not + give you satisfaction, because there is neither rhyme nor reason nor + satisfaction to be found in the whole business. What an absurd fool he is, + to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + At these words Gaudissart flew at the dyer to give him a slap on the face, + but the listening crowd rushed between them, so that the illustrious + traveller only contrived to knock off the wig of his enemy, which fell on + the head of Mademoiselle Clara Vernier. + </p> + <p> + “If you are not satisfied, Monsieur,” he said, “I shall be at the Soleil + d’Or until to-morrow morning, and you will find me ready to show you what + it means to give satisfaction. I fought in July, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “And you shall fight in Vouvray,” answered the dyer; “and what is more, + you shall stay here longer than you imagine.” + </p> + <p> + Gaudissart marched off, turning over in his mind this prophetic remark, + which seemed to him full of sinister portent. For the first time in his + life the prince of travellers did not dine jovially. The whole town of + Vouvray was put in a ferment about the “affair” between Monsieur Vernier + and the apostle of Saint-Simonism. Never before had the tragic event of a + duel been so much as heard of in that benign and happy valley. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Mitouflet, I am to fight to-morrow with Monsieur Vernier,” said + Gaudissart to his landlord. “I know no one here: will you be my second?” + </p> + <p> + “Willingly,” said the host. + </p> + <p> + Gaudissart had scarcely finished his dinner before Madame Fontanieu and + the assistant-mayor of Vouvray came to the Soleil d’Or and took Mitouflet + aside. They told him it would be a painful and injurious thing to the + whole canton if a violent death were the result of this affair; they + represented the pitiable distress of Madame Vernier, and conjured him to + find some way to arrange matters and save the credit of the district. + </p> + <p> + “I take it all upon myself,” said the sagacious landlord. + </p> + <p> + In the evening he went up to the traveller’s room carrying pens, ink, and + paper. + </p> + <p> + “What have you got there?” asked Gaudissart. + </p> + <p> + “If you are going to fight to-morrow,” answered Mitouflet, “you had better + make some settlement of your affairs; and perhaps you have letters to + write,—we all have beings who are dear to us. Writing doesn’t kill, + you know. Are you a good swordsman? Would you like to get your hand in? I + have some foils.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, gladly.” + </p> + <p> + Mitouflet returned with foils and masks. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, let us see what you can do.” + </p> + <p> + The pair put themselves on guard. Mitouflet, with his former prowess as + grenadier of the guard, made sixty-two passes at Gaudissart, pushed him + about right and left, and finally pinned him up against the wall. + </p> + <p> + “The deuce! you are strong,” said Gaudissart, out of breath. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Vernier is stronger than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil! Damn it, I shall fight with pistols.” + </p> + <p> + “I advise you to do so; because, if you take large holster pistols and + load them up to their muzzles, you can’t risk anything. They are SURE to + fire wide of the mark, and both parties can retire from the field with + honor. Let me manage all that. Hein! ‘sapristi,’ two brave men would be + arrant fools to kill each other for a joke.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure the pistols will carry WIDE ENOUGH? I should be sorry to + kill the man, after all,” said Gaudissart. + </p> + <p> + “Sleep in peace,” answered Mitouflet, departing. + </p> + <p> + The next morning the two adversaries, more or less pale, met beside the + bridge of La Cise. The brave Vernier came near shooting a cow which was + peaceably feeding by the roadside. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you fired in the air!” cried Gaudissart. + </p> + <p> + At these words the enemies embraced. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the traveller, “your joke was rather rough, but it was a + good one for all that. I am sorry I apostrophized you: I was excited. I + regard you as a man of honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, we take twenty subscriptions to the ‘Children’s Journal,’” + replied the dyer, still pale. + </p> + <p> + “That being so,” said Gaudissart, “why shouldn’t we all breakfast + together? Men who fight are always the ones to come to a good + understanding.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Mitouflet,” said Gaudissart on his return to the inn, “of course + you have got a sheriff’s officer here?” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to send a summons to my good friend Margaritis to deliver the two + casks of wine.” + </p> + <p> + “But he has not got them,” said Vernier. + </p> + <p> + “No matter for that; the affair can be arranged by the payment of an + indemnity. I won’t have it said that Vouvray outwitted the illustrious + Gaudissart.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Margaritis, alarmed at the prospect of a suit in which the + plaintiff would certainly win his case, brought thirty francs to the + placable traveller, who thereupon considered himself quits with the + happiest region of sunny France,—a region which is also, we must + add, the most recalcitrant to new and progressive ideas. + </p> + <p> + On returning from his trip through the southern departments, the + illustrious Gaudissart occupied the coupe of a diligence, where he met a + young man to whom, as they journeyed between Angouleme and Paris, he + deigned to explain the enigmas of life, taking him, apparently, for an + infant. + </p> + <p> + As they passed Vouvray the young man exclaimed, “What a fine site!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur,” said Gaudissart, “but not habitable on account of the + people. You get into duels every day. Why, it is not three months since I + fought one just there,” pointing to the bridge of La Cise, “with a damned + dyer; but I made an end of him,—he bit the dust!” + </p> + <h3> + ADDENDUM + </h3> + <p> + The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Finot, Andoche + Cesar Birotteau + A Bachelor’s Establishment + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Government Clerks + A Start in Life + The Firm of Nucingen + + Gaudissart, Felix + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Cousin Pons + Cesar Birotteau + Honorine + + Popinot, Anselme + Cesar Birotteau + Cousin Pons + Cousin Betty +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE MUSE OF THE DEPARTMENT + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Translated by James Waring + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + DEDICATION + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + To Monsieur le Comte Ferdinand de Gramont. + + MY DEAR FERDINAND,—If the chances of the world of literature— + <i>habent sua fata libelli</i>—should allow these lines to be an + enduring record, that will still be but a trifle in return for the + trouble you have taken—you, the Hozier, the Cherin, the King-at- + Arms of these Studies of Life; you, to whom the Navarreins, + Cadignans, Langeais, Blamont-Chauvrys, Chaulieus, Arthez, + Esgrignons, Mortsaufs, Valois—the hundred great names that form + the Aristocracy of the “Human Comedy” owe their lordly mottoes and + ingenious armorial bearings. Indeed, “the Armorial of the Etudes, + devised by Ferdinand de Gramont, gentleman,” is a complete manual + of French Heraldry, in which nothing is forgotten, not even the + arms of the Empire, and I shall preserve it as a monument of + friendship and of Benedictine patience. What profound knowledge of + the old feudal spirit is to be seen in the motto of the + Beauseants, <i>Pulchre sedens, melius agens</i>; in that of the + Espards, <i>Des partem leonis</i>; in that of the Vandenesses, <i>Ne se + vend</i>. And what elegance in the thousand details of the learned + symbolism which will always show how far accuracy has been carried + in my work, to which you, the poet, have contributed. + + Your old friend, + DE BALZAC. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + On the skirts of Le Berry stands a town which, watered by the Loire, + infallibly attracts the traveler’s eye. Sancerre crowns the topmost height + of a chain of hills, the last of the range that gives variety to the + Nivernais. The Loire floods the flats at the foot of these slopes, leaving + a yellow alluvium that is extremely fertile, excepting in those places + where it has deluged them with sand and destroyed them forever, by one of + those terrible risings which are also incidental to the Vistula—the + Loire of the northern coast. + </p> + <p> + The hill on which the houses of Sancerre are grouped is so far from the + river that the little river-port of Saint-Thibault thrives on the life of + Sancerre. There wine is shipped and oak staves are landed, with all the + produce brought from the upper and lower Loire. At the period when this + story begins the suspension bridges at Cosne and at Saint-Thibault were + already built. Travelers from Paris to Sancerre by the southern road were + no longer ferried across the river from Cosne to Saint-Thibault; and this + of itself is enough to show that the great cross-shuffle of 1830 was a + thing of the past, for the House of Orleans has always had a care for + substantial improvements, though somewhat after the fashion of a husband + who makes his wife presents out of her marriage portion. + </p> + <p> + Excepting that part of Sancerre which occupies the little plateau, the + streets are more or less steep, and the town is surrounded by slopes known + as the Great Ramparts, a name which shows that they are the highroads of + the place. + </p> + <p> + Outside the ramparts lies a belt of vineyards. Wine forms the chief + industry and the most important trade of the country, which yields several + vintages of high-class wine full of aroma, and so nearly resembling the + wines of Burgundy, that the vulgar palate is deceived. So Sancerre finds + in the wineshops of Paris the quick market indispensable for liquor that + will not keep for more than seven or eight years. Below the town lie a few + villages, Fontenoy and Saint-Satur, almost suburbs, reminding us by their + situation of the smiling vineyards about Neuchatel in Switzerland. + </p> + <p> + The town still bears much of its ancient aspect; the streets are narrow + and paved with pebbles carted up from the Loire. Some old houses are to be + seen there. The citadel, a relic of military power and feudal times, stood + one of the most terrible sieges of our religious wars, when French + Calvinists far outdid the ferocious Cameronians of Walter Scott’s tales. + </p> + <p> + The town of Sancerre, rich in its greater past, but widowed now of its + military importance, is doomed to an even less glorious future, for the + course of trade lies on the right bank of the Loire. The sketch here given + shows that Sancerre will be left more and more lonely in spite of the two + bridges connecting it with Cosne. + </p> + <p> + Sancerre, the pride of the left bank, numbers three thousand five hundred + inhabitants at most, while at Cosne there are now more than six thousand. + Within half a century the part played by these two towns standing opposite + each other has been reversed. The advantage of situation, however, remains + with the historic town, whence the view on every side is perfectly + enchanting, where the air is deliciously pure, the vegetation splendid, + and the residents, in harmony with nature, are friendly souls, good + fellows, and devoid of Puritanism, though two-thirds of the population are + Calvinists. Under such conditions, though there are the usual + disadvantages of life in a small town, and each one lives under the + officious eye which makes private life almost a public concern, on the + other hand, the spirit of township—a sort of patriotism, which + cannot indeed take the place of a love of home—flourishes + triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + Thus the town of Sancerre is exceedingly proud of having given birth to + one of the glories of modern medicine, Horace Bianchon, and to an author + of secondary rank, Etienne Lousteau, one of our most successful + journalists. The district included under the municipality of Sancerre, + distressed at finding itself practically ruled by seven or eight large + landowners, the wire-pullers of the elections, tried to shake off the + electoral yoke of a creed which had reduced it to a rotten borough. This + little conspiracy, plotted by a handful of men whose vanity was provoked, + failed through the jealousy which the elevation of one of them, as the + inevitable result, roused in the breasts of the others. This result showed + the radical defect of the scheme, and the remedy then suggested was to + rally round a champion at the next election, in the person of one of the + two men who so gloriously represented Sancerre in Paris circles. + </p> + <p> + This idea was extraordinarily advanced for the provinces, for since 1830 + the nomination of parochial dignitaries has increased so greatly that real + statesmen are becoming rare indeed in the lower chamber. + </p> + <p> + In point of fact, this plan, of very doubtful outcome, was hatched in the + brain of the Superior Woman of the borough, <i>dux femina fasti</i>, but + with a view to personal interest. This idea was so widely rooted in this + lady’s past life, and so entirely comprehended her future prospects, that + it can scarcely be understood without some sketch of her antecedent + career. + </p> + <p> + Sancerre at that time could boast of a Superior Woman, long misprized + indeed, but now, about 1836, enjoying a pretty extensive local reputation. + This, too, was the period at which two Sancerrois in Paris were attaining, + each in his own line, to the highest degree of glory for one, and of + fashion for the other. Etienne Lousteau, a writer in reviews, signed his + name to contributions to a paper that had eight thousand subscribers; and + Bianchon, already chief physician to a hospital, Officer of the Legion of + Honor, and member of the Academy of Sciences, had just been made a + professor. + </p> + <p> + If it were not that the word would to many readers seem to imply a degree + of blame, it might be said that George Sand created <i>Sandism</i>, so + true is it that, morally speaking, all good has a reverse of evil. This + leprosy of sentimentality would have been charming. Still, <i>Sandism</i> + has its good side, in that the woman attacked by it bases her assumption + of superiority on feelings scorned; she is a blue-stocking of sentiment; + and she is rather less of a bore, love to some extent neutralizing + literature. The most conspicuous result of George Sand’s celebrity was to + elicit the fact that France has a perfectly enormous number of superior + women, who have, however, till now been so generous as to leave the field + to the Marechal de Saxe’s granddaughter. + </p> + <p> + The Superior Woman of Sancerre lived at La Baudraye, a town-house and + country-house in one, within ten minutes of the town, and in the village, + or, if you will, the suburb of Saint-Satur. The La Baudrayes of the + present day have, as is frequently the case, thrust themselves in, and are + but a substitute for those La Baudrayes whose name, glorious in the + Crusades, figured in the chief events of the history of Le Berry. + </p> + <p> + The story must be told. + </p> + <p> + In the time of Louis XIV. a certain sheriff named Milaud, whose + forefathers had been furious Calvinists, was converted at the time of the + Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. To encourage this movement in one of + the strong-holds of Calvinism, the King gave said Milaud a good + appointment in the “Waters and Forests,” granted him arms and the title of + Sire (or Lord) de la Baudraye, with the fief of the old and genuine La + Baudrayes. The descendants of the famous Captain la Baudraye fell, sad to + say, into one of the snares laid for heretics by the new decrees, and were + hanged—an unworthy deed of the great King’s. + </p> + <p> + Under Louis XV. Milaud de la Baudraye, from being a mere squire, was made + Chevalier, and had influence enough to obtain for his son a cornet’s + commission in the Musketeers. This officer perished at Fontenoy, leaving a + child, to whom King Louis XVI. subsequently granted the privileges, by + patent, of a farmer-general, in remembrance of his father’s death on the + field of battle. + </p> + <p> + This financier, a fashionable wit, great at charades, capping verses, and + posies to Chlora, lived in society, was a hanger-on to the Duc de + Nivernais, and fancied himself obliged to follow the nobility into exile; + but he took care to carry his money with him. Thus the rich <i>emigre</i> + was able to assist more than one family of high rank. + </p> + <p> + In 1800, tired of hoping, and perhaps tired of lending, he returned to + Sancerre, bought back La Baudraye out of a feeling of vanity and imaginary + pride, quite intelligible in a sheriff’s grandson, though under the + consulate his prospects were but slender; all the more so, indeed, because + the ex-farmer-general had small hopes of his heir’s perpetuating the new + race of La Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + Jean Athanase Polydore Milaud de la Baudraye, his only son, more than + delicate from his birth, was very evidently the child of a man whose + constitution had early been exhausted by the excesses in which rich men + indulge, who then marry at the first stage of premature old age, and thus + bring degeneracy into the highest circles of society. During the years of + the emigration Madame de la Baudraye, a girl of no fortune, chosen for her + noble birth, had patiently reared this sallow, sickly boy, for whom she + had the devoted love mothers feel for such changeling creatures. Her death—she + was a Casteran de la Tour—contributed to bring about Monsieur de la + Baudraye’s return to France. + </p> + <p> + This Lucullus of the Milauds, when he died, left his son the fief, + stripped indeed of its fines and dues, but graced with weathercocks + bearing his coat-of-arms, a thousand louis-d’or—in 1802 a + considerable sum of money—and certain receipts for claims on very + distinguished <i>emigres</i> enclosed in a pocketbook full of verses, with + this inscription on the wrapper, <i>Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas</i>. + </p> + <p> + Young La Baudraye did not die, but he owed his life to habits of monastic + strictness; to the economy of action which Fontenelle preached as the + religion of the invalid; and, above all, to the air of Sancerre and the + influence of its fine elevation, whence a panorama over the valley of the + Loire may be seen extending for forty leagues. + </p> + <p> + From 1802 to 1815 young La Baudraye added several plots to his vineyards, + and devoted himself to the culture of the vine. The Restoration seemed to + him at first so insecure that he dared not go to Paris to claim his debts; + but after Napoleon’s death he tried to turn his father’s collection of + autographs into money, though not understanding the deep philosophy which + had thus mixed up I O U’s and copies of verses. But the winegrower lost so + much time in impressing his identity on the Duke of Navarreins “and + others,” as he phrased it, that he came back to Sancerre, to his beloved + vintage, without having obtained anything but offers of service. + </p> + <p> + The Restoration had raised the nobility to such a degree of lustre as made + La Baudraye wish to justify his ambitions by having an heir. This happy + result of matrimony he considered doubtful, or he would not so long have + postponed the step; however, finding himself still above ground in 1823, + at the age of forty-three, a length of years which no doctor, astrologer, + or midwife would have dared to promise him, he hoped to earn the reward of + his sober life. And yet his choice showed such a lack of prudence in + regard to his frail constitution, that the malicious wit of a country town + could not help thinking it must be the result of some deep calculation. + </p> + <p> + Just at this time His Eminence, Monseigneur the Archbishop of Bourges, had + converted to the Catholic faith a young person, the daughter of one of the + citizen families, who were the first upholders of Calvinism, and who, + thanks to their obscurity or to some compromise with Heaven, had escaped + from the persecutions under Louis XIV. The Piedefers—a name that was + obviously one of the quaint nicknames assumed by the champions of the + Reformation—had set up as highly respectable cloth merchants. But in + the reign of Louis XVI., Abraham Piedefer fell into difficulties, and at + his death in 1786 left his two children in extreme poverty. One of them, + Tobie Piedefer, went out to the Indies, leaving the pittance they had + inherited to his elder brother. During the Revolution Moise Piedefer + bought up the nationalized land, pulled down abbeys and churches with all + the zeal of his ancestors, oddly enough, and married a Catholic, the only + daughter of a member of the Convention who had perished on the scaffold. + This ambitious Piedefer died in 1819, leaving a little girl of remarkable + beauty. This child, brought up in the Calvinist faith, was named Dinah, in + accordance with the custom in use among the sect, of taking their + Christian names from the Bible, so as to have nothing in common with the + Saints of the Roman Church. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Dinah Piedefer was placed by her mother in one of the best + schools in Bourges, that kept by the Demoiselles Chamarolles, and was soon + as highly distinguished for the qualities of her mind as for her beauty; + but she found herself snubbed by girls of birth and fortune, destined + by-and-by to play a greater part in the world than a mere plebeian, the + daughter of a mother who was dependent on the settlement of Piedefer’s + estate. Dinah, having raised herself for the moment above her companions, + now aimed at remaining on a level with them for the rest of her life. She + determined, therefore, to renounce Calvinism, in the hope that the + Cardinal would extend his favor to his proselyte and interest himself in + her prospects. You may from this judge of Mademoiselle Dinah’s + superiority, since at the age of seventeen she was a convert solely from + ambition. + </p> + <p> + The Archbishop, possessed with the idea that Dinah Piedefer would adorn + society, was anxious to see her married. But every family to whom the + prelate made advances took fright at a damsel gifted with the looks of a + princess, who was reputed to be the cleverest of Mademoiselle Chamarolles’ + pupils and who, at the somewhat theatrical ceremonial of prize-giving, + always took a leading part. A thousand crowns a year, which was as much as + she could hope for from the estate of La Hautoy when divided between the + mother and daughter, would be a mere trifle in comparison with the + expenses into which a husband would be led by the personal advantages of + so brilliant a creature. + </p> + <p> + As soon as all these facts came to the ears of little Polydore de la + Baudraye—for they were the talk of every circle in the Department of + the Cher—he went to Bourges just when Madame Piedefer, a devotee at + high services, had almost made up her own mind and her daughter’s to take + the first comer with well-lined pockets—the first <i>chien coiffe</i>, + as they say in Le Berry. And if the Cardinal was delighted to receive + Monsieur de la Baudraye, Monsieur de la Baudraye was even better pleased + to receive a wife from the hands of the Cardinal. The little gentleman + only demanded of His Eminence a formal promise to support his claims with + the President of the Council to enable him to recover his debts from the + Duc de Navarreins “and others” by a lien on their indemnities. This + method, however, seemed to the able Minister then occupying the Pavillon + Marsan rather too sharp practice, and he gave the vine-owner to understand + that his business should be attended to all in good time. + </p> + <p> + It is easy to imagine the excitement produced in the Sancerre district by + the news of Monsieur de la Baudraye’s imprudent marriage. + </p> + <p> + “It is quite intelligible,” said President Boirouge; “the little man was + very much startled, as I am told, at hearing that handsome young Milaud, + the Attorney-General’s deputy at Nevers, say to Monsieur de Clagny as they + were looking at the turrets of La Baudraye, ‘That will be mine some day.’—‘But,’ + says Clagny, ‘he may marry and have children.’—‘Impossible!’—So + you may imagine how such a changeling as little La Baudraye must hate that + colossal Milaud.” + </p> + <p> + There was at Nevers a plebeian branch of the Milauds, which had grown so + rich in the cutlery trade that the present representative of that branch + had been brought up to the civil service, in which he had enjoyed the + patronage of Marchangy, now dead. + </p> + <p> + It will be as well to eliminate from this story, in which moral + developments play the principal part, the baser material interests which + alone occupied Monsieur de la Baudraye, by briefly relating the results of + his negotiations in Paris. This will also throw light on certain + mysterious phenomena of contemporary history, and the underground + difficulties in matters of politics which hampered the Ministry at the + time of the Restoration. + </p> + <p> + The promises of Ministers were so illusory that Monsieur de la Baudraye + determined on going to Paris at the time when the Cardinal’s presence was + required there by the sitting of the Chambers. + </p> + <p> + This is how the Duc de Navarreins, the principal debtor threatened by + Monsieur de la Baudraye, got out of the scrape. + </p> + <p> + The country gentleman, lodging at the Hotel de Mayence, Rue Saint-Honore, + near the Place Vendome, one morning received a visit from a confidential + agent of the Ministry, who was an expert in “winding up” business. This + elegant personage, who stepped out of an elegant cab, and was dressed in + the most elegant style, was requested to walk up to No. 3—that is to + say, to the third floor, to a small room where he found his provincial + concocting a cup of coffee over his bedroom fire. + </p> + <p> + “Is it to Monsieur Milaud de la Baudraye that I have the honor—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the little man, draping himself in his dressing-gown. + </p> + <p> + After examining this garment, the illicit offspring of an old chine + wrapper of Madame Piedefer’s and a gown of the late lamented Madame de la + Baudraye, the emissary considered the man, the dressing-gown, and the + little stove on which the milk was boiling in a tin saucepan, as so + homogeneous and characteristic, that he deemed it needless to beat about + the bush. + </p> + <p> + “I will lay a wager, monsieur,” said he, audaciously, “that you dine for + forty sous at Hurbain’s in the Palais Royal.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray, why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know you, having seen you there,” replied the Parisian with perfect + gravity. “All the princes’ creditors dine there. You know that you recover + scarcely ten per cent on debts from these fine gentlemen. I would not give + you five per cent on a debt to be recovered from the estate of the late + Duc d’Orleans—nor even,” he added in a low voice—“from + MONSIEUR.” + </p> + <p> + “So you have come to buy up the bills?” said La Baudraye, thinking himself + very clever. + </p> + <p> + “Buy them!” said his visitor. “Why, what do you take me for? I am Monsieur + des Lupeaulx, Master of Appeals, Secretary-General to the Ministry, and I + have come to propose an arrangement.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, monsieur, you know the position of your debtor—” + </p> + <p> + “Of my debtors—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur, you understand the position of your debtors; they stand + high in the King’s good graces, but they have no money, and are obliged to + make a good show.—Again, you know the difficulties of the political + situation. The aristocracy has to be rehabilitated in the face of a very + strong force of the third estate. The King’s idea—and France does + him scant justice—is to create a peerage as a national institution + analogous to the English peerage. To realize this grand idea we need years—and + millions.—<i>Noblesse oblige</i>. The Duc de Navarreins, who is, as + you know, first gentleman of the Bedchamber to the King, does not + repudiate his debt; but he cannot—Now, be reasonable.—Consider + the state of politics. We are emerging from the pit of the Revolution.—and + you yourself are noble—He simply cannot pay—” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur—” + </p> + <p> + “You are hasty,” said des Lupeaulx. “Listen. He cannot pay in money. Well, + then; you, a clever man, can take payment in favors—Royal or + Ministerial.” + </p> + <p> + “What! When in 1793 my father put down one hundred thousand—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, recrimination is useless. Listen to a simple statement in + political arithmetic: The collectorship at Sancerre is vacant; a certain + paymaster-general of the forces has a claim on it, but he has no chance of + getting it; you have the chance—and no claim. You will get the + place. You will hold it for three months, you will then resign, and + Monsieur Gravier will give twenty thousand francs for it. In addition, the + Order of the Legion of Honor will be conferred on you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that is something,” said the wine-grower, tempted by the money + rather than by the red ribbon. + </p> + <p> + “But then,” said des Lupeaulx, “you must show your gratitude to His + Excellency by restoring to Monseigneur the Duc de Navarreins all your + claims on him.” + </p> + <p> + La Baudraye returned to Sancerre as Collector of Taxes. Six months later + he was superseded by Monsieur Gravier, regarded as one of the most + agreeable financiers who had served under the Empire, and who was of + course presented by Monsieur de la Baudraye to his wife. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was released from his functions, Monsieur de la Baudraye + returned to Paris to come to an understanding with some other debtors. + This time he was made a Referendary under the Great Seal, Baron, and + Officer of the Legion of Honor. He sold the appointment as Referendary; + and then the Baron de la Baudraye called on his last remaining debtors, + and reappeared at Sancerre as Master of Appeals, with an appointment as + Royal Commissioner to a commercial association established in the + Nivernais, at a salary of six thousand francs, an absolute sinecure. So + the worthy La Baudraye, who was supposed to have committed a financial + blunder, had, in fact, done very good business in the choice of a wife. + </p> + <p> + Thanks to sordid economy and an indemnity paid him for the estate + belonging to his father, nationalized and sold in 1793, by the year 1827 + the little man could realize the dream of his whole life. By paying four + hundred thousand francs down, and binding himself to further instalments, + which compelled him to live for six years on the air as it came, to use + his own expression, he was able to purchase the estate of Anzy on the + banks of the Loire, about two leagues above Sancerre, and its magnificent + castle built by Philibert de l’Orme, the admiration of every connoisseur, + and for five centuries the property of the Uxelles family. At last he was + one of the great landowners of the province! It is not absolutely certain + that the satisfaction of knowing that an entail had been created, by + letters patent dated back to December 1820, including the estates of Anzy, + of La Baudraye, and of La Hautoy, was any compensation to Dinah on finding + herself reduced to unconfessed penuriousness till 1835. + </p> + <p> + This sketch of the financial policy of the first Baron de la Baudraye + explains the man completely. Those who are familiar with the manias of + country folks will recognize in him the <i>land-hunger</i> which becomes + such a consuming passion to the exclusion of every other; a sort of + avarice displayed in the sight of the sun, which often leads to ruin by a + want of balance between the interest on mortgages and the products of the + soil. Those who, from 1802 till 1827, had merely laughed at the little man + as they saw him trotting to Saint-Thibault and attending to his business, + like a merchant living on his vineyards, found the answer to the riddle + when the ant-lion seized his prey, after waiting for the day when the + extravagance of the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse culminated in the sale of + that splendid property. + </p> + <p> + Madame Piedefer came to live with her daughter. The combined fortunes of + Monsieur de la Baudraye and his mother-in-law, who had been content to + accept an annuity of twelve hundred francs on the lands of La Hautoy which + she handed over to him, amounted to an acknowledged income of about + fifteen thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + During the early days of her married life, Dinah had effected some + alterations which had made the house at La Baudraye a very pleasant + residence. She turned a spacious forecourt into a formal garden, pulling + down wine-stores, presses, and shabby outhouses. Behind the manor-house, + which, though small, did not lack style with its turrets and gables, she + laid out a second garden with shrubs, flower-beds, and lawns, and divided + it from the vineyards by a wall hidden under creepers. She also made + everything within doors as comfortable as their narrow circumstances + allowed. + </p> + <p> + In order not to be ruined by a young lady so very superior as Dinah seemed + to be, Monsieur de la Baudraye was shrewd enough to say nothing as to the + recovery of debts in Paris. This dead secrecy as to his money matters gave + a touch of mystery to his character, and lent him dignity in his wife’s + eyes during the first years of their married life—so majestic is + silence! + </p> + <p> + The alterations effected at La Baudraye made everybody eager to see the + young mistress, all the more so because Dinah would never show herself, + nor receive any company, before she felt quite settled in her home and had + thoroughly studied the inhabitants, and, above all, her taciturn husband. + When, one spring morning in 1825, pretty Madame de la Baudraye was first + seen walking on the Mall in a blue velvet dress, with her mother in black + velvet, there was quite an excitement in Sancerre. This dress confirmed + the young woman’s reputation for superiority, brought up, as she had been, + in the capital of Le Berry. Every one was afraid lest in entertaining this + phoenix of the Department, the conversation should not be clever enough; + and, of course, everybody was constrained in the presence of Madame de la + Baudraye, who produced a sort of terror among the woman-folk. As they + admired a carpet of Indian shawl-pattern in the La Baudraye drawing-room, + a Pompadour writing-table carved and gilt, brocade window curtains, and a + Japanese bowl full of flowers on the round table among a selection of the + newest books; when they heard the fair Dinah playing at sight, without + making the smallest demur before seating herself at the piano, the idea + they conceived of her superiority assumed vast proportions. That she might + never allow herself to become careless or the victim of bad taste, Dinah + had determined to keep herself up to the mark as to the fashions and + latest developments of luxury by an active correspondence with Anna + Grossetete, her bosom friend at Mademoiselle Chamarolles’ school. + </p> + <p> + Anna, thanks to a fine fortune, had married the Comte de Fontaine’s third + son. Thus those ladies who visited at La Baudraye were perpetually piqued + by Dinah’s success in leading the fashion; do what they would, they were + always behind, or, as they say on the turf, distanced. + </p> + <p> + While all these trifles gave rise to malignant envy in the ladies of + Sancerre, Dinah’s conversation and wit engendered absolute aversion. In + her ambition to keep her mind on the level of Parisian brilliancy, Madame + de la Baudraye allowed no vacuous small talk in her presence, no + old-fashioned compliments, no pointless remarks; she would never endure + the yelping of tittle-tattle, the backstairs slander which forms the + staple of talk in the country. She liked to hear of discoveries in science + or art, or the latest pieces at the theatres, the newest poems, and by + airing the cant words of the day she made a show of uttering thoughts. + </p> + <p> + The Abbe Duret, Cure of Sancerre, an old man of a lost type of clergy in + France, a man of the world with a liking for cards, had not dared to + indulge this taste in so liberal a district as Sancerre; he, therefore, + was delighted at Madame de la Baudraye’s coming, and they got on together + to admiration. The <i>sous-prefet</i>, one Vicomte de Chargeboeuf, was + delighted to find in Madame de la Baudraye’s drawing-room a sort of oasis + where there was a truce to provincial life. As to Monsieur de Clagny, the + Public Prosecutor, his admiration for the fair Dinah kept him bound to + Sancerre. The enthusiastic lawyer refused all promotion, and became a + quite pious adorer of this angel of grace and beauty. He was a tall, lean + man, with a minatory countenance set off by terrible eyes in deep black + circles, under enormous eyebrows; and his eloquence, very unlike his + love-making, could be incisive. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Gravier was a little, round man, who in the days of the Empire + had been a charming ballad-singer; it was this accomplishment that had won + him the high position of Paymaster-General of the forces. Having mixed + himself up in certain important matters in Spain with generals at that + time in opposition, he had made the most of these connections to the + Minister, who, in consideration of the place he had lost, promised him the + Receivership at Sancerre, and then allowed him to pay for the appointment. + The frivolous spirit and light tone of the Empire had become ponderous in + Monsieur Gravier; he did not, or would not, understand the wide difference + between manners under the Restoration and under the Empire. Still, he + conceived of himself as far superior to Monsieur de Clagny; his style was + in better taste; he followed the fashion, was to be seen in a buff + waistcoat, gray trousers, and neat, tightly-fitting coats; he wore a + fashionable silk tie slipped through a diamond ring, while the lawyer + never dressed in anything but black—coat, trousers, and waistcoat + alike, and those often shabby. + </p> + <p> + These four men were the first to go into ecstasies over Dinah’s + cultivation, good taste, and refinement, and pronounced her a woman of + most superior mind. Then the women said to each other, “Madame de la + Baudraye must laugh at us behind our back.” + </p> + <p> + This view, which was more or less correct, kept them from visiting at La + Baudraye. Dinah, attainted and convicted of pedantry, because she spoke + grammatically, was nicknamed the Sappho of Saint-Satur. At last everybody + made insolent game of the great qualities of the woman who had thus roused + the enmity of the ladies of Sancerre. And they ended by denying a + superiority—after all, merely comparative!—which emphasized + their ignorance, and did not forgive it. Where the whole population is + hunch-backed, a straight shape is the monstrosity; Dinah was regarded as + monstrous and dangerous, and she found herself in a desert. + </p> + <p> + Astonished at seeing the women of the neighborhood only at long intervals, + and for visits of a few minutes, Dinah asked Monsieur de Clagny the reason + of this state of things. + </p> + <p> + “You are too superior a woman to be liked by other women,” said the + lawyer. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Gravier, when questioned by the forlorn fair, only, after much + entreaty, replied: + </p> + <p> + “Well, lady fair, you are not satisfied to be merely charming. You are + clever and well educated, you know every book that comes out, you love + poetry, you are a musician, and you talk delightfully. Women cannot + forgive so much superiority.” + </p> + <p> + Men said to Monsieur de la Baudraye: + </p> + <p> + “You who have such a Superior Woman for a wife are very fortunate——” + And at last he himself would say: + </p> + <p> + “I who have a Superior Woman for a wife, am very fortunate,” etc. + </p> + <p> + Madame Piedefer, flattered through her daughter, also allowed herself to + say such things—“My daughter, who is a very Superior Woman, was + writing yesterday to Madame de Fontaine such and such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + Those who know the world—France, Paris—know how true it is + that many celebrities are thus created. + </p> + <p> + Two years later, by the end of the year 1825, Dinah de la Baudraye was + accused of not choosing to have any visitors but men; then it was said + that she did not care for women—and that was a crime. Not a thing + could she do, not her most trifling action, could escape criticism and + misrepresentation. After making every sacrifice that a well-bred woman can + make, and placing herself entirely in the right, Madame de la Baudraye was + so rash as to say to a false friend who condoled with her on her + isolation: + </p> + <p> + “I would rather have my bowl empty than with anything in it!” + </p> + <p> + This speech produced a terrible effect on Sancerre, and was cruelly + retorted on the Sappho of Saint-Satur when, seeing her childless after + five years of married life, <i>little</i> de la Baudraye became a byword + for laughter. To understand this provincial witticism, readers may be + reminded of the Bailli de Ferrette—some, no doubt, having known him—of + whom it was said that he was the bravest man in Europe for daring to walk + on his legs, and who was accused of putting lead in his shoes to save + himself from being blown away. Monsieur de la Baudraye, a sallow and + almost diaphanous creature, would have been engaged by the Bailli de + Ferrette as first gentleman-in-waiting if that diplomatist had been the + Grand Duke of Baden instead of being merely his envoy. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de la Baudraye, whose legs were so thin that, for mere decency, + he wore false calves, whose thighs were like the arms of an average man, + whose body was not unlike that of a cockchafer, would have been an + advantageous foil to the Bailli de Ferrette. As he walked, the little + vine-owner’s leg-pads often twisted round on to his shins, so little did + he make a secret of them, and he would thank any one who warned him of + this little mishap. He wore knee-breeches, black silk stockings, and a + white waistcoat till 1824. After his marriage he adopted blue trousers and + boots with heels, which made Sancerre declare that he had added two inches + to his stature that he might come up to his wife’s chin. For ten years he + was always seen in the same little bottle-green coat with large + white-metal buttons, and a black stock that accentuated his cold stingy + face, lighted up by gray-blue eyes as keen and passionless as a cat’s. + Being very gentle, as men are who act on a fixed plan of conduct, he + seemed to make his wife happy by never contradicting her; he allowed her + to do the talking, and was satisfied to move with the deliberate tenacity + of an insect. + </p> + <p> + Dinah, adored for her beauty, in which she had no rival, and admired for + her cleverness by the most gentlemanly men of the place, encouraged their + admiration by conversations, for which it was subsequently asserted, she + prepared herself beforehand. Finding herself listened to with rapture, she + soon began to listen to herself, enjoyed haranguing her audience, and at + last regarded her friends as the chorus in a tragedy, there only to give + her her cues. In fact, she had a very fine collection of phrases and + ideas, derived either from books or by assimilating the opinions of her + companions, and thus became a sort of mechanical instrument, going off on + a round of phrases as soon as some chance remark released the spring. To + do her justice, Dinah was choke full of knowledge, and read everything, + even medical books, statistics, science, and jurisprudence; for she did + not know how to spend her days when she had reviewed her flower-beds and + given her orders to the gardener. Gifted with an excellent memory, and the + talent which some women have for hitting on the right word, she could talk + on any subject with the lucidity of a studied style. And so men came from + Cosne, from la Charite, and from Nevers, on the right bank; from Lere, + Vailly, Argent, Blancafort, and Aubigny, on the left bank, to be + introduced to Madame de la Baudraye, as they used in Switzerland, to be + introduced to Madame de Stael. Those who only once heard the round of + tunes emitted by this musical snuff-box went away amazed, and told such + wonders of Dinah as made all the women jealous for ten leagues round. + </p> + <p> + There is an indescribable mental headiness in the admiration we inspire, + or in the effect of playing a part, which fends off criticism from + reaching the idol. An atmosphere, produced perhaps by unceasing nervous + tension, forms a sort of halo, through which the world below is seen. How + otherwise can we account for the perennial good faith which leads to so + many repeated presentments of the same effects, and the constant ignoring + of warnings given by children, such a terror to their parents, or by + husbands, so familiar as they are with the peacock airs of their wives? + Monsieur de la Baudraye had the frankness of a man who opens an umbrella + at the first drop of rain. When his wife was started on the subject of + Negro emancipation or the improvement of convict prisons, he would take up + his little blue cap and vanish without a sound, in the certainty of being + able to get to Saint-Thibault to see off a cargo of puncheons, and return + an hour later to find the discussion approaching a close. Or, if he had no + business to attend to, he would go for a walk on the Mall, whence he + commanded the lovely panorama of the Loire valley, and take a draught of + fresh air while his wife was performing a sonata in words, or a + dialectical duet. + </p> + <p> + Once fairly established as a Superior Woman, Dinah was eager to prove her + devotion to the most remarkable creations of art. She threw herself into + the propaganda of the romantic school, including, under Art, poetry and + painting, literature and sculpture, furniture and the opera. Thus she + became a mediaevalist. She was also interested in any treasures that dated + from the Renaissance, and employed her allies as so many devoted + commission agents. Soon after she was married, she had become possessed of + the Rougets’ furniture, sold at Issoudun early in 1824. She purchased some + very good things at Nivernais and the Haute-Loire. At the New Year and on + her birthday her friends never failed to give her some curiosities. These + fancies found favor in the eyes of Monsieur de la Baudraye; they gave him + an appearance of sacrificing a few crowns to his wife’s taste. In point of + fact, his land mania allowed him to think of nothing but the estate of + Anzy. + </p> + <p> + These “antiquities” at that time cost much less than modern furniture. By + the end of five or six years the ante-room, the dining-room, the two + drawing-rooms, and the boudoir which Dinah had arranged on the ground + floor of La Baudraye, every spot even to the staircase, were crammed with + masterpieces collected in the four adjacent departments. These + surroundings, which were called <i>queer</i> by the neighbors, were quite + in harmony with Dinah. All these Marvels, so soon to be the rage, struck + the imagination of the strangers introduced to her; they came expecting + something unusual; and they found their expectations surpassed when, + behind a bower of flowers, they saw these catacombs full of old things, + piled up as Sommerard used to pile them—that “Old Mortality” of + furniture. And then these finds served as so many springs which, turned on + by a question, played off an essay on Jean Goujon, Michel Columb, Germain + Pilon, Boulle, Van Huysum, and Boucher, the great native painter of Le + Berry; on Clodion, the carver of wood, on Venetian mirrors, on Brustolone, + an Italian tenor who was the Michael-Angelo of boxwood and holm oak; on + the thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth + centuries, on the glazes of Bernard de Palissy, the enamels of Petitot, + the engravings of Albrecht Durer—whom she called Dur; on + illuminations on vellum, on Gothic architecture, early decorated, + flamboyant and pure—enough to turn an old man’s brain and fire a + young man with enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye, possessed with the idea of waking up Sancerre, + tried to form a so-called literary circle. The Presiding Judge, Monsieur + Boirouge, who happened to have a house and garden on his hands, part of + the Popinot-Chandier property, favored the notion of this <i>coterie</i>. + The wily Judge talked over the rules of the society with Madame de la + Baudraye; he proposed to figure as one of the founders, and to let the + house for fifteen years to the literary club. By the time it had existed a + year the members were playing dominoes, billiards, and bouillotte, and + drinking mulled wine, punch, and liqueurs. A few elegant little suppers + were then given, and some masked balls during the Carnival. As to + literature—there were the newspapers. Politics and business were + discussed. Monsieur de la Baudraye was constantly there—on his + wife’s account, as she said jestingly. + </p> + <p> + This result deeply grieved the Superior Woman, who despaired of Sancerre, + and collected the wit of the neighborhood in her own drawing-room. + Nevertheless, and in spite of the efforts of Messieurs de Chargeboeuf, + Gravier, and de Clagny, of the Abbe Duret and the two chief magistrates, + of a young doctor, and a young Assistant Judge—all blind admirers of + Dinah’s—there were occasions when, weary of discussion, they allowed + themselves an excursion into the domain of agreeable frivolity which + constitutes the common basis of worldly conversation. Monsieur Gravier + called this “from grave to gay.” The Abbe Duret’s rubber made another + pleasing variety on the monologues of the oracle. The three rivals, tired + of keeping their minds up to the level of the “high range of discussion”—as + they called their conversation—but not daring to confess it, would + sometimes turn with ingratiating hints to the old priest. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Cure is dying for his game,” they would say. + </p> + <p> + The wily priest lent himself very readily to the little trick. He + protested. + </p> + <p> + “We should lose too much by ceasing to listen to our inspired hostess!” + and so he would incite Dinah’s magnanimity to take pity at last on her + dear Abbe. + </p> + <p> + This bold manoeuvre, a device of the Sous-prefet’s, was repeated with so + much skill that Dinah never suspected her slaves of escaping to the prison + yard, so to speak, of the cardtable; and they would leave her one of the + younger functionaries to harry. + </p> + <p> + One young landowner, and the dandy of Sancerre, fell away from Dinah’s + good graces in consequence of some rash demonstrations. After soliciting + the honor of admission to this little circle, where he flattered himself + he could snatch the blossom from the constituted authorities who guarded + it, he was so unfortunate as to yawn in the middle of an explanation Dinah + was favoring him with—for the fourth time, it is true—of the + philosophy of Kant. Monsieur de la Thaumassiere, the grandson of the + historian of Le Berry, was thenceforth regarded as a man entirely bereft + of soul and brains. + </p> + <p> + The three devotees <i>en titre</i> each submitted to these exorbitant + demands on their mind and attention, in hope of a crowning triumph, when + at last Dinah should become human; for neither of them was so bold as to + imagine that Dinah would give up her innocence as a wife till she should + have lost all her illusions. In 1826, when she was surrounded by adorers, + Dinah completed her twentieth year, and the Abbe Duret kept her in a sort + of fervid Catholicism; so her worshipers had to be content to overwhelm + her with little attentions and small services, only too happy to be taken + for the carpet-knights of this sovereign lady, by strangers admitted to + spend an evening or two at La Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de la Baudraye is a fruit that must be left to ripen.” This was + the opinion of Monsieur Gravier, who was waiting. + </p> + <p> + As to the lawyer, he wrote letters four pages long, to which Dinah replied + in soothing speech as she walked, leaning on his arm, round and round the + lawn after dinner. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye, thus guarded by three passions, and always under + the eye of her pious mother, escaped the malignity of slander. It was so + evident to all Sancerre that no two of these three men would ever leave + the third alone with Madame de la Baudraye, that their jealousy was a + comedy to the lookers-on. + </p> + <p> + To reach Saint-Thibault from Caesar’s Gate there is a way much shorter + than that by the ramparts, down what is known in mountainous districts as + a <i>coursiere</i>, called at Sancerre <i>le Casse-cou</i>, or Break-neck + Alley. The name is significant as applied to a path down the steepest part + of the hillside, thickly strewn with stones, and shut in by the high banks + of the vineyards on each side. By way of the Break-neck the distance from + Sancerre to La Baudraye is much abridged. The ladies of the place, jealous + of the Sappho of Saint-Satur, were wont to walk on the Mall, looking down + this Longchamp of the bigwigs, whom they would stop and engage in + conversation—sometimes the Sous-prefet and sometimes the Public + Prosecutor—and who would listen with every sign of impatience or + uncivil absence of mind. As the turrets of La Baudraye are visible from + the Mall, many a younger man came to contemplate the abode of Dinah while + envying the ten or twelve privileged persons who might spend their + afternoons with the Queen of the neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de la Baudraye was not slow to discover the advantage he, as + Dinah’s husband, held over his wife’s adorers, and he made use of them + without any disguise, obtaining a remission of taxes, and gaining two + lawsuits. In every litigation he used the Public Prosecutor’s name with + such good effect that the matter was carried no further, and, like all + undersized men, he was contentious and litigious in business, though in + the gentlest manner. + </p> + <p> + At the same time, the more certainly guiltless she was, the less + conceivable did Madame de la Baudraye’s position seem to the prying eyes + of these women. Frequently, at the house of the Presidente de Boirouge, + the ladies of a certain age would spend a whole evening discussing the La + Baudraye household, among themselves of course. They all had suspicions of + a mystery, a secret such as always interests women who have had some + experience of life. And, in fact, at La Baudraye one of those slow and + monotonous conjugal tragedies was being played out which would have + remained for ever unknown if the merciless scalpel of the nineteenth + century, guided by the insistent demand for novelty, had not dissected the + darkest corners of the heart, or at any rate those which the decency of + past centuries left unopened. And that domestic drama sufficiently + accounts for Dinah’s immaculate virtue during her early married life. + </p> + <p> + A young lady, whose triumphs at school had been the outcome of her pride, + and whose first scheme in life had been rewarded by a victory, was not + likely to pause in such a brilliant career. Frail as Monsieur de la + Baudraye might seem, he was really an unhoped-for good match for + Mademoiselle Dinah Piedefer. But what was the hidden motive of this + country landowner when, at forty-four, he married a girl of seventeen; and + what could his wife make out of the bargain? This was the text of Dinah’s + first meditations. + </p> + <p> + The little man never behaved quite as his wife expected. To begin with, he + allowed her to take the five precious acres now wasted in pleasure grounds + round La Baudraye, and paid, almost with generosity, the seven or eight + thousand francs required by Dinah for improvements in the house, enabling + her to buy the furniture at the Rougets’ sale at Issoudun, and to + redecorate her rooms in various styles—Mediaeval, Louis XIV., and + Pompadour. The young wife found it difficult to believe that Monsieur de + la Baudraye was so miserly as he was reputed, or else she must have great + influence with him. The illusion lasted a year and a half. + </p> + <p> + After Monsieur de la Baudraye’s second journey to Paris, Dinah discovered + in him the Artic coldness of a provincial miser whenever money was in + question. The first time she asked for supplies she played the sweetest of + the comedies of which Eve invented the secret; but the little man put it + plainly to his wife that he gave her two hundred francs a month for her + personal expenses, and paid Madame Piedefer twelve hundred francs a year + as a charge on the lands of La Hautoy, and that this was two hundred + francs a year more than was agreed to under the marriage settlement. + </p> + <p> + “I say nothing of the cost of housekeeping,” he said in conclusion. “You + may give your friends cake and tea in the evening, for you must have some + amusement. But I, who spent but fifteen hundred francs a year as a + bachelor, now spend six thousand, including rates and repairs, and this is + rather too much in relation to the nature of our property. A winegrower is + never sure of what his expenses may be—the making, the duty, the + casks—while the returns depend on a scorching day or a sudden frost. + Small owners, like us, whose income is far from being fixed, must base + their estimates on their minimum, for they have no means of making up a + deficit or a loss. What would become of us if a wine merchant became + bankrupt? In my opinion, promissory notes are so many cabbage-leaves. To + live as we are living, we ought always to have a year’s income in hand and + count on no more than two-thirds of our returns.” + </p> + <p> + Any form of resistance is enough to make a woman vow to subdue it; Dinah + flung herself against a will of iron padded round with gentleness. She + tried to fill the little man’s soul with jealousy and alarms, but it was + stockaded with insolent confidence. He left Dinah, when he went to Paris, + with all the conviction of Medor in Angelique’s fidelity. When she + affected cold disdain, to nettle this changeling by the scorn a courtesan + sometimes shows to her “protector,” and which acts on him with the + certainty of the screw of a winepress, Monsieur de la Baudraye gazed at + his wife with fixed eyes, like those of a cat which, in the midst of + domestic broils, waits till a blow is threatened before stirring from its + place. The strange, speechless uneasiness that was perceptible under his + mute indifference almost terrified the young wife of twenty; she could not + at first understand the selfish quiescence of this man, who might be + compared to a cracked pot, and who, in order to live, regulated his + existence with the unchangeable regularity which a clockmaker requires of + a clock. So the little man always evaded his wife, while she always hit + out, as it were, ten feet above his head. + </p> + <p> + Dinah’s fits of fury when she saw herself condemned never to escape from + La Baudraye and Sancerre are more easily imagined than described—she + who had dreamed of handling a fortune and managing the dwarf whom she, the + giant, had at first humored in order to command. In the hope of some day + making her appearance on the greater stage of Paris, she accepted the + vulgar incense of her attendant knights with a view to seeing Monsieur de + la Baudraye’s name drawn from the electoral urn; for she supposed him to + be ambitious, after seeing him return thrice from Paris, each time a step + higher on the social ladder. But when she struck on the man’s heart, it + was as though she had tapped on marble! The man who had been + Receiver-General and Referendary, who was now Master of Appeals, Officer + of the Legion of Honor, and Royal Commissioner, was but a mole throwing up + its little hills round and round a vineyard! Then some lamentations were + poured into the heart of the Public Prosecutor, of the Sous-prefet, even + of Monsieur Gravier, and they all increased in their devotion to this + sublime victim; for, like all women, she never mentioned her speculative + schemes, and—again like all women—finding such speculation + vain, she ceased to speculate. + </p> + <p> + Dinah, tossed by mental storms, was still undecided when, in the autumn of + 1827, the news was told of the purchase by the Baron de la Baudraye of the + estate of Anzy. Then the little old man showed an impulsion of pride and + glee which for a few months changed the current of his wife’s ideas; she + fancied there was a hidden vein of greatness in the man when she found him + applying for a patent of entail. In his triumph the Baron exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Dinah, you shall be a countess yet!” + </p> + <p> + There was then a patched-up reunion between the husband and wife, such as + can never endure, and which only humiliated and fatigued a woman whose + apparent superiority was unreal, while her unseen superiority was genuine. + This whimsical medley is commoner than people think. Dinah, who was + ridiculous from the perversity of her cleverness, had really great + qualities of soul, but circumstances did not bring these rarer powers to + light, while a provincial life debased the small change of her wit from + day to day. Monsieur de la Baudraye, on the contrary, devoid of soul, of + strength, and of wit, was fated to figure as a man of character, simply by + pursuing a plan of conduct which he was too feeble to change. + </p> + <p> + There was in their lives a first phase, lasting six years, during which + Dinah, alas! became utterly provincial. In Paris there are several kinds + of women: the duchess and the financier’s wife, the ambassadress and the + consul’s wife, the wife of the minister who is a minister, and of him who + is no longer a minister; then there is the lady—quite the lady—of + the right bank of the Seine and of the left. But in the country there is + but one kind of woman, and she, poor thing, is the provincial woman. + </p> + <p> + This remark points to one of the sores of modern society. It must be + clearly understood: France in the nineteenth century is divided into two + broad zones—Paris, and the provinces. The provinces jealous of + Paris; Paris never thinking of the provinces but to demand money. Of old, + Paris was the Capital of the provinces, and the court ruled the Capital; + now, all Paris is the Court, and all the country is the town. + </p> + <p> + However lofty, beautiful, and clever a girl born in any department of + France may be on entering life, if, like Dinah Piedefer, she marries in + the country and remains there, she inevitably becomes the provincial + woman. In spite of every determination, the commonplace of second-rate + ideas, indifference to dress, the culture of vulgar people, swamp the + sublimer essence hidden in the youthful plant; all is over, it falls into + decay. How should it be otherwise? From their earliest years girls bred in + the country see none but provincials; they cannot imagine anything + superior, their choice lies among mediocrities; provincial fathers marry + their daughters to provincial sons; crossing the races is never thought + of, and the brain inevitably degenerates, so that in many country towns + intellect is as rare as the breed is hideous. Mankind becomes dwarfed in + mind and body, for the fatal principle of conformity of fortune governs + every matrimonial alliance. Men of talent, artists, superior brains—every + bird of brilliant plumage flies to Paris. The provincial woman, inferior + in herself, is also inferior through her husband. How is she to live happy + under this crushing twofold consciousness? + </p> + <p> + But there is a third and terrible element besides her congenital and + conjugal inferiority which contributes to make the figure arid and gloomy; + to reduce it, narrow it, distort it fatally. Is not one of the most + flattering unctions a woman can lay to her soul the assurance of being + something in the existence of a superior man, chosen by herself, + wittingly, as if to have some revenge on marriage, wherein her tastes were + so little consulted? But if in the country the husbands are inferior + beings, the bachelors are no less so. When a provincial wife commits her + “little sin,” she falls in love with some so-called handsome native, some + indigenous dandy, a youth who wears gloves and is supposed to ride well; + but she knows at the bottom of her soul that her fancy is in pursuit of + the commonplace, more or less well dressed. Dinah was preserved from this + danger by the idea impressed upon her of her own superiority. Even if she + had not been as carefully guarded in her early married life as she was by + her mother, whose presence never weighed upon her till the day when she + wanted to be rid of it, her pride, and her high sense of her own + destinies, would have protected her. Flattered as she was to find herself + surrounded by admirers, she saw no lover among them. No man here realized + the poetical ideal which she and Anna Grossetete had been wont to sketch. + When, stirred by the involuntary temptations suggested by the homage she + received, she asked herself, “If I had to make a choice, who should it + be?” she owned to a preference for Monsieur de Chargeboeuf, a gentleman of + good family, whose appearance and manners she liked, but whose cold + nature, selfishness, and narrow ambition, never rising above a prefecture + and a good marriage, repelled her. At a word from his family, who were + alarmed lest he should be killed for an intrigue, the Vicomte had already + deserted a woman he had loved in the town where he previously had been + Sous-prefet. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Clagny, on the other hand, the only man whose mind appealed to + hers, whose ambition was founded on love, and who knew what love means, + Dinah thought perfectly odious. When Dinah saw herself condemned to six + years’ residence at Sancerre she was on the point of accepting the + devotion of Monsieur le Vicomte de Chargeboeuf; but he was appointed to a + prefecture and left the district. To Monsieur de Clagny’s great + satisfaction, the new Sous-prefet was a married man whose wife made + friends with Dinah. The lawyer had now no rival to fear but Monsieur + Gravier. Now Monsieur Gravier was the typical man of forty of whom women + make use while they laugh at him, whose hopes they intentionally and + remorselessly encourage, as we are kind to a beast of burden. In six + years, among all the men who were introduced to her from twenty leagues + round, there was not one in whose presence Dinah was conscious of the + excitement caused by personal beauty, by a belief in promised happiness, + by the impact of a superior soul, or the anticipation of a love affair, + even an unhappy one. + </p> + <p> + Thus none of Dinah’s choicest faculties had a chance of developing; she + swallowed many insults to her pride, which was constantly suffering under + the husband who so calmly walked the stage as supernumerary in the drama + of her life. Compelled to bury her wealth of love, she showed only the + surface to the world. Now and then she would try to rouse herself, try to + form some manly resolution; but she was kept in leading strings by the + need for money. And so, slowly and in spite of the ambitious protests and + grievous recriminations of her own mind, she underwent the provincial + metamorphosis here described. Each day took with it a fragment of her + spirited determination. She had laid down a rule for the care of her + person, which she gradually departed from. Though at first she kept up + with the fashions and the little novelties of elegant life, she was + obliged to limit her purchases by the amount of her allowance. Instead of + six hats, caps, or gowns, she resigned herself to one gown each season. + She was so much admired in a certain bonnet that she made it do duty for + two seasons. So it was in everything. + </p> + <p> + Not unfrequently her artistic sense led her to sacrifice the requirements + of her person to secure some bit of Gothic furniture. By the seventh year + she had come so low as to think it convenient to have her morning dresses + made at home by the best needlewoman in the neighborhood; and her mother, + her husband, and her friends pronounced her charming in these inexpensive + costumes which did credit to her taste. Her ideas were imitated! As she + had no standard of comparison, Dinah fell into the snares that surround + the provincial woman. If a Parisian woman’s hips are too narrow or too + full, her inventive wit and the desire to please help to find some heroic + remedy; if she has some defect, some ugly spot, or small disfigurement, + she is capable of making it an adornment; this is often seen; but the + provincial woman—never! If her waist is too short and her figure ill + balanced, well, she makes up her mind to the worst, and her adorers—or + they do not adore her—must take her as she is, while the Parisian + always insists on being taken for what she is not. Hence the preposterous + bustles, the audacious flatness, the ridiculous fulness, the hideous + outlines ingeniously displayed, to which a whole town will become + accustomed, but which are so astounding when a provincial woman makes her + appearance in Paris or among Parisians. Dinah, who was extremely slim, + showed it off to excess, and never knew a dull moment when it became + ridiculous; when, reduced by the dull weariness of her life, she looked + like a skeleton in clothes; and her friends, seeing her every day, did not + observe the gradual change in her appearance. + </p> + <p> + This is one of the natural results of a provincial life. In spite of + marriage, a young woman preserves her beauty for some time, and the town + is proud of her; but everybody sees her every day, and when people meet + every day their perception is dulled. If, like Madame de la Baudraye, she + loses her color, it is scarcely noticed; or, again, if she flushes a + little, that is intelligible and interesting. A little neglect is thought + charming, and her face is so carefully studied, so well known, that slight + changes are scarcely noticed, and regarded at last as “beauty spots.” When + Dinah ceased to have a new dress with a new season, she seemed to have + made a concession to the philosophy of the place. + </p> + <p> + It is the same with matters of speech, choice of words and ideas, as it is + with matters of feeling. The mind can rust as well as the body if it is + not rubbed up in Paris; but the thing on which provincialism most sets its + stamp is gesture, gait, and movement; these soon lose the briskness which + Paris constantly keeps alive. The provincial is used to walk and move in a + world devoid of accident or change, there is nothing to be avoided; so in + Paris she walks on as raw recruits do, never remembering that there may be + hindrances, for there are none in her way in her native place, where she + is known, where she is always in her place, and every one makes way for + her. Thus she loses all the charm of the unforeseen. + </p> + <p> + And have you ever noticed the effect on human beings of a life in common? + By the ineffaceable instinct of simian mimicry they all tend to copy each + other. Each one, without knowing it, acquires the gestures, the tone of + voice, the manner, the attitudes, the very countenance of others. In six + years Dinah had sunk to the pitch of the society she lived in. As she + acquired Monsieur de Clagny’s ideas she assumed his tone of voice; she + unconsciously fell into masculine manners from seeing none but men; she + fancied that by laughing at what was ridiculous in them she was safe from + catching it; but, as often happens, some hue of what she laughed at + remained in the grain. + </p> + <p> + A Parisian woman sees so many examples of good taste that a contrary + result ensues. In Paris women learn to seize the hour and moment when they + may appear to advantage; while Madame de la Baudraye, accustomed to take + the stage, acquired an indefinable theatrical and domineering manner, the + air of a <i>prima donna</i> coming forward on the boards, of which + ironical smiles would soon have cured her in the capital. + </p> + <p> + But after she had acquired this stock of absurdities, and, deceived by her + worshipers, imagined them to be added graces, a moment of terrible + awakening came upon her like the fall of an avalanche from a mountain. In + one day she was crushed by a frightful comparison. + </p> + <p> + In 1829, after the departure of Monsieur de Chargeboeuf, she was excited + by the anticipation of a little pleasure; she was expecting the Baronne de + Fontaine. Anna’s husband, who was now Director-General under the Minister + of Finance, took advantage of leave of absence on the occasion of his + father’s death to take his wife to Italy. Anna wished to spend the day at + Sancerre with her school-friend. This meeting was strangely disastrous. + Anna, who at school had been far less handsome than Dinah, now, as Baronne + de Fontaine, was a thousand times handsomer than the Baronne de la + Baudraye, in spite of her fatigue and her traveling dress. Anna stepped + out of an elegant traveling chaise loaded with Paris milliners’ boxes, and + she had with her a lady’s maid, whose airs quite frightened Dinah. All the + difference between a woman of Paris and a provincial was at once evident + to Dinah’s intelligent eye; she saw herself as her friend saw her—and + Anna found her altered beyond recognition. Anna spent six thousand francs + a year on herself alone, as much as kept the whole household at La + Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + In twenty-four hours the friends had exchanged many confidences; and the + Parisian, seeing herself so far superior to the phoenix of Mademoiselle + Chamarolles’ school, showed her provincial friend such kindness, such + attentions, while giving her certain explanations, as were so many stabs + to Dinah, though she perfectly understood that Anna’s advantages all lay + on the surface, while her own were for ever buried. + </p> + <p> + When Anna had left, Madame de la Baudraye, by this time two-and-twenty, + fell into the depths of despair. + </p> + <p> + “What is it that ails you?” asked Monsieur de Clagny, seeing her so + dejected. + </p> + <p> + “Anna,” said she, “has learned to live, while I have been learning to + endure.” + </p> + <p> + A tragi-comedy was, in fact, being enacted in Madame de la Baudraye’s + house, in harmony with her struggles over money matters and her successive + transformations—a drama to which no one but Monsieur de Clagny and + the Abbe Duret ever knew the clue, when Dinah in sheer idleness, or + perhaps sheer vanity, revealed the secret of her anonymous fame. + </p> + <p> + Though a mixture of verse and prose is a monstrous anomaly in French + literature, there must be exceptions to the rule. This tale will be one of + the two instances in these Studies of violation of the laws of narrative; + for to give a just idea of the unconfessed struggle which may excuse, + though it cannot absolve Dinah, it is necessary to give an analysis of a + poem which was the outcome of her deep despair. + </p> + <p> + Her patience and her resignation alike broken by the departure of the + Vicomte de Chargeboeuf, Dinah took the worthy Abbe’s advice to exhale her + evil thoughts in verse—a proceeding which perhaps accounts for some + poets. + </p> + <p> + “You will find such relief as those who write epitaphs or elegies over + those whom they have lost. Pain is soothed in the heart as lines surge up + in the brain.” + </p> + <p> + This strange production caused a great ferment in the departments of the + Allier, the Nievre, and the Cher, proud to possess a poet capable of + rivalry with the glories of Paris. <i>Paquita la Sevillane</i>, by <i>Jan + Diaz</i>, was published in the <i>Echo du Morvan</i>, a review which for + eighteen months maintained its existence in spite of provincial + indifference. Some knowing persons at Nevers declared that Jan Diaz was + making fun of the new school, just then bringing out its eccentric verse, + full of vitality and imagery, and of brilliant effects produced by defying + the Muse under pretext of adapting German, English, and Romanesque + mannerisms. + </p> + <p> + The poem began with this ballad: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Ah! if you knew the fragrant plain, + The air, the sky, of golden Spain, + Its fervid noons, its balmy spring, + Sad daughters of the northern gloom, + Of love, of heav’n, of native home, + You never would presume to sing! + + For men are there of other mould + Than those who live in this dull cold. + And there to music low and sweet + Sevillian maids, from eve till dawn, + Dance lightly on the moonlit lawn + In satin shoes, on dainty feet. + + Ah, you would be the first to blush + Over your dancers’ romp and rush, + And your too hideous carnival, + That turns your cheeks all chill and blue, + And skips the mud in hob-nail’d shoe— + A truly dismal festival. + + To pale-faced girls, and in a squalid room, + Paquita sang; the murky town beneath + Was Rouen whence the slender spires rise + To chew the storm with teeth. + Rouen so hideous, noisy, full of rage— +</pre> + <p> + And here followed a magnificent description of Rouen—where Dinah had + never been—written with the affected brutality which, a little + later, inspired so many imitations of Juvenal; a contrast drawn between + the life of a manufacturing town and the careless life of Spain, between + the love of Heaven and of human beauty, and the worship of machinery, in + short, between poetry and sordid money-making. + </p> + <p> + Then Jan Diaz accounted for Paquita’s horror of Normandy by saying: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Seville, you see, had been her native home, + Seville, where skies are blue and evening sweet. + She, at thirteen, the sovereign of the town, + Had lovers at her feet. + + For her three Toreadors had gone to death + Or victory, the prize to be a kiss— + One kiss from those red lips of sweetest breath— + A longed-for touch of bliss! +</pre> + <p> + The features of the Spanish girl’s portrait have served so often as those + of the courtesan in so many self-styled <i>poems</i>, that it would be + tiresome to quote here the hundred lines of description. To judge of the + lengths to which audacity had carried Dinah, it will be enough to give the + conclusion. According to Madame de la Baudraye’s ardent pen, Paquita was + so entirely created for love that she can hardly have met with a knight + worthy of her; for + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +.... In her passionate fire Every man would have swooned from the heat, + When she at love’s feast, in her fervid desire, + As yet had but taken her seat. +</pre> + <p> + “And yet she could quit the joys of Seville, its woods and fields of + orange-trees, for a Norman soldier who won her love and carried her away + to his hearth and home. She did not weep for her Andalusia, the Soldier + was her whole joy.... But the day came when he was compelled to start for + Russia in the footsteps of the great Emperor.” + </p> + <p> + Nothing could be more dainty than the description of the parting between + the Spanish girl and the Normandy Captain of Artillery, who, in the + delirium of passion expressed with feeling worthy of Byron, exacted from + Paquita a vow of absolute fidelity, in the Cathedral at Rouen in front of + the alter of the Blessed Virgin, who + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Though a Maid is a woman, and never forgives + When lovers are false to their vows. +</pre> + <p> + A large part of the poem was devoted to describing Paquita’s sufferings + when alone in Rouen waiting till the campaign was over; she stood writhing + at the window bars as she watched happy couples go by; she suppressed her + passion in her heart with a determination that consumed her; she lived on + narcotics, and exhausted herself in dreams. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Almost she died, but still her heart was true; + And when at last her soldier came again, + He found her beauty ever fresh and new— + He had not loved in vain! +</pre> + <p> + “But he, pale and frozen by the cold of Russia, chilled to the very + marrow, met his yearning fair one with a melancholy smile.” + </p> + <p> + The whole poem was written up to this situation, which was worked out with + such vigor and boldness as too entirely justified the Abbe Duret. + </p> + <p> + Paquita, on reaching the limits set to real love, did not, like Julie and + Heloise, throw herself into the ideal; no, she rushed into the paths of + vice, which is, no doubt, shockingly natural; but she did it without any + touch of magnificence, for lack of means, as it would be difficult to find + in Rouen men impassioned enough to place Paquita in a suitable setting of + luxury and splendor. This horrible realism, emphasized by gloomy poetic + feeling, had inspired some passages such as modern poetry is too free + with, rather too like the flayed anatomical figures known to artists as <i>ecorches</i>. + Then, by a highly philosophical revulsion, after describing the house of + ill-fame where the Andalusian ended her days, the writer came back to the + ballad at the opening: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Paquita now is faded, shrunk, and old, + But she it was who sang: + + “If you but knew the fragrant plain, + The air, the sky, of golden Spain,” etc. +</pre> + <p> + The gloomy vigor of this poem, running to about six hundred lines, and + serving as a powerful foil, to use a painter’s word, to the two <i>seguidillas</i> + at the beginning and end, the masculine utterance of inexpressible grief, + alarmed the woman who found herself admired by three departments, under + the black cloak of the anonymous. While she fully enjoyed the intoxicating + delights of success, Dinah dreaded the malignity of provincial society, + where more than one woman, if the secret should slip out, would certainly + find points of resemblance between the writer and Paquita. Reflection came + too late; Dinah shuddered with shame at having made “copy” of some of her + woes. + </p> + <p> + “Write no more,” said the Abbe Duret. “You will cease to be a woman; you + will be a poet.” + </p> + <p> + Moulins, Nevers, Bourges were searched to find Jan Diaz; but Dinah was + impenetrable. To remove any evil impression, in case any unforeseen chance + should betray her name, she wrote a charming poem in two cantos on <i>The + Mass-Oak</i>, a legend of the Nivernais: + </p> + <p> + “Once upon a time the folks of Nevers and the folks of Saint-Saulge, at + war with each other, came at daybreak to fight a battle, in which one or + other should perish, and met in the forest of Faye. And then there stood + between them, under an oak, a priest whose aspect in the morning sun was + so commanding that the foes at his bidding heard Mass as he performed it + under the oak, and at the words of the Gospel they made friends.”—The + oak is still shown in the forest of Faye. + </p> + <p> + This poem, immeasurably superior to <i>Paquita la Sevillane</i>, was far + less admired. + </p> + <p> + After these two attempts Madame de la Baudraye, feeling herself a poet, + had a light on her brow and a flash in her eyes that made her handsomer + than ever. She cast longing looks at Paris, aspiring to fame—and + fell back into her den of La Baudraye, her daily squabbles with her + husband, and her little circle, where everybody’s character, intentions, + and remarks were too well known not to have become a bore. Though she + found relief from her dreary life in literary work, and poetry echoed + loudly in her empty life, though she thus found an outlet for her + energies, literature increased her hatred of the gray and ponderous + provincial atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + When, after the Revolution of 1830, the glory of George Sand was reflected + on Le Berry, many a town envied La Chatre the privilege of having given + birth to this rival of Madame de Stael and Camille Maupin, and were ready + to do homage to minor feminine talent. Thus there arose in France a vast + number of tenth Muses, young girls or young wives tempted from a silent + life by the bait of glory. Very strange doctrines were proclaimed as to + the part women should play in society. Though the sound common sense which + lies at the root of the French nature was not perverted, women were + suffered to express ideas and profess opinions which they would not have + owned to a few years previously. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Clagny took advantage of this outbreak of freedom to collect + the works of Jan Diaz in a small volume printed by Desroziers at Moulins. + He wrote a little notice of the author, too early snatched from the world + of letters, which was amusing to those who were in the secret, but which + even then had not the merit of novelty. Such practical jokes, capital so + long as the author remains unknown, fall rather flat if subsequently the + poet stands confessed. + </p> + <p> + From this point of view, however, the memoir of Jan Diaz, born at Bourges + in 1807, the son of a Spanish prisoner, may very likely some day deceive + the compiler of some <i>Universal Biography</i>. Nothing is overlooked; + neither the names of the professors at the Bourges College, nor those of + his deceased schoolfellows, such as Lousteau, Bianchon, and other famous + natives of the province, who, it is said, knew the dreamy, melancholy boy, + and his precocious bent towards poetry. An elegy called <i>Tristesse</i> + (Melancholy), written at school; the two poems <i>Paquita la Sevillane</i> + and <i>Le Chene de la Messe</i>; three sonnets, a description of the + Cathedral and the House of Jacques Coeur at Bourges, with a tale called <i>Carola</i>, + published as the work he was engaged on at the time of his death, + constituted the whole of these literary remains; and the poet’s last + hours, full of misery and despair, could not fail to wring the hearts of + the feeling public of the Nievre, the Bourbonnais, the Cher, and the + Morvan, where he died near Chateau-Chinon, unknown to all, even to the + woman he had loved! + </p> + <p> + Of this little yellow paper volume two hundred copies were printed; one + hundred and fifty were sold—about fifty in each department. This + average of tender and poetic souls in three departments of France is + enough to revive the enthusiasm of writers as to the <i>Furia Francese</i>, + which nowadays is more apt to expend itself in business than in books. + </p> + <p> + When Monsieur de Clagny had given away a certain number of copies, Dinah + still had seven or eight, wrapped up in the newspapers which had published + notices of the work. Twenty copies forwarded to the Paris papers were + swamped in the editors’ offices. Nathan was taken in as well as several of + his fellow-countrymen of Le Berry, and wrote an article on the great man, + in which he credited him with all the fine qualities we discover in those + who are dead and buried. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau, warned by his fellow-schoolfellows, who could not remember Jan + Diaz, waited for information from Sancerre, and learned that Jan Diaz was + a pseudonym assumed by a woman. + </p> + <p> + Then, in and around Sancerre, Madame de la Baudraye became the rage; she + was the future rival of George Sand. From Sancerre to Bourges a poem was + praised which, at any other time, would certainly have been hooted. The + provincial public—like every French public, perhaps—does not + share the love of the King of the French for the happy medium: it lifts + you to the skies or drags you in the mud. + </p> + <p> + By this time the good Abbe, Madame de la Baudraye’s counselor, was dead; + he would certainly have prevented her rushing into public life. But three + years of work without recognition weighed on Dinah’s soul, and she + accepted the clatter of fame as a substitute for her disappointed + ambitions. Poetry and dreams of celebrity, which had lulled her grief + since her meeting with Anna Grossetete, no longer sufficed to exhaust the + activity of her morbid heart. The Abbe Duret, who had talked of the world + when the voice of religion was impotent, who understood Dinah, and + promised her a happy future by assuring her that God would compensate her + for her sufferings bravely endured,—this good old man could no + longer stand between the opening to sin and the handsome young woman he + had called his daughter. + </p> + <p> + The wise old priest had more than once endeavored to enlighten Dinah as to + her husband’s character, telling her that the man could hate; but women + are not ready to believe in such force in weak natures, and hatred is too + constantly in action not to be a vital force. Dinah, finding her husband + incapable of love, denied him the power to hate. + </p> + <p> + “Do not confound hatred and vengeance,” said the Abbe. “They are two + different sentiments. One is the instinct of small minds; the other is the + outcome of law which great souls obey. God is avenged, but He does not + hate. Hatred is a vice of narrow souls; they feed it with all their + meanness, and make it a pretext for sordid tyranny. So beware of offending + Monsieur de la Baudraye; he would forgive an infidelity, because he could + make capital of it, but he would be doubly implacable if you should touch + him on the spot so cruelly wounded by Monsieur Milaud of Nevers, and would + make your life unendurable.” + </p> + <p> + Now, at the time when the whole countryside—Nevers and Sancerre, Le + Morvan and Le Berry—was priding itself on Madame de la Baudraye, and + lauding her under the name of Jan Diaz, “little La Baudraye” felt her + glory a mortal blow. He alone knew the secret source of <i>Paquita la + Sevillane</i>. When this terrible work was spoken of, everybody said of + Dinah—“Poor woman! Poor soul!” + </p> + <p> + The women rejoiced in being able to pity her who had so long oppressed + them; never had Dinah seemed to stand higher in the eyes of the + neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + The shriveled old man, more wrinkled, yellower, feebler than ever, gave no + sign; but Dinah sometimes detected in his eyes, as he looked at her, a + sort of icy venom which gave the lie to his increased politeness and + gentleness. She understood at last that this was not, as she had supposed, + a mere domestic squabble; but when she forced an explanation with her + “insect,” as Monsieur Gravier called him, she found the cold, hard + impassibility of steel. She flew into a passion; she reproached him for + her life these eleven years past; she made—intentionally—what + women call a scene. But “little La Baudraye” sat in an armchair with his + eyes shut, and listened phlegmatically to the storm. And, as usual, the + dwarf got the better of his wife. Dinah saw that she had done wrong in + writing; she vowed never to write another line, and she kept her vow. + </p> + <p> + Then was there desolation in the Sancerrois. + </p> + <p> + “Why did not Madame de la Baudraye compose any more verses?” was the + universal cry. + </p> + <p> + At this time Madame de la Baudraye had no enemies; every one rushed to see + her, not a week passed without fresh introductions. The wife of the + presiding judge, an august <i>bourgeoise</i>, <i>nee</i> Popinot-Chandier, + desired her son, a youth of two-and-twenty, to pay his humble respects to + La Baudraye, and flattered herself that she might see her Gatien in the + good graces of this Superior Woman.—The words Superior Woman had + superseded the absurd nickname of <i>The Sappho of Saint-Satur</i>.—This + lady, who for nine years had led the opposition, was so delighted at the + good reception accorded to her son, that she became loud in her praises of + the Muse of Sancerre. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” she exclaimed, in reply to a tirade from Madame de Clagny, + who hated her husband’s supposed mistress, “she is the handsomest and + cleverest woman in the whole province!” + </p> + <p> + After scrambling through so many brambles and setting off on so many + different roads, after dreaming of love in splendor and scenting the + darkest dramas, thinking such terrible joys would be cheaply purchased so + weary was she of her dreary existence, one day Dinah fell into the pit she + had sworn to avoid. Seeing Monsieur de Clagny always sacrificing himself, + and at last refusing a high appointment in Paris, where his family wanted + to see him, she said to herself, “He loves me!” She vanquished her + repulsion, and seemed willing to reward so much constancy. + </p> + <p> + It was to this impulse of generosity on her part that a coalition was due, + formed in Sancerre to secure the return of Monsieur de Clagny at the next + elections. Madame de la Baudraye had dreamed of going to Paris in the wake + of the new deputy. + </p> + <p> + But, in spite of the most solemn promises, the hundred and fifty votes to + be recorded in favor of this adorer of the lovely Dinah—who hoped to + see this defender of the widow and the orphan wearing the gown of the + Keeper of the Seals—figured as an imposing minority of fifty votes. + The jealousy of the President de Boirouge, and Monsieur Gravier’s hatred, + for he believed in the candidate’s supremacy in Dinah’s heart, had been + worked upon by a young Sous-prefet; and for this worthy deed the allies + got the young man made a prefet elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + “I shall never cease to regret,” said he, as he quitted Sancerre, “that I + did not succeed in pleasing Madame de la Baudraye; that would have made my + triumph complete!” + </p> + <p> + The household that was thus racked by domestic troubles was calm on the + surface; here were two ill-assorted but resigned beings, and the + indescribable propriety, the lie that society insists on, and which to + Dinah was an unendurable yoke. Why did she long to throw off the mask she + had worn for twelve years? Whence this weariness which, every day, + increased her hope of finding herself a widow? + </p> + <p> + The reader who has noted all the phases of her existence will have + understood the various illusions by which Dinah, like many another woman, + had been deceived. After an attempt to master Monsieur de la Baudraye, she + had indulged the hope of becoming a mother. Between those miserable + disputes over household matters and the melancholy conviction as to her + fate, quite a long time had elapsed. Then, when she had looked for + consolation, the consoler, Monsieur de Chargeboeuf had left her. Thus, the + overwhelming temptation which commonly causes women to sin had hitherto + been absent. For if there are, after all, some women who make straight for + unfaithfulness, are there not many more who cling to hope, and do not fall + till they have wandered long in a labyrinth of secret woes? + </p> + <p> + Such was Dinah. She had so little impulse to fail in her duty, that she + did not care enough for Monsieur de Clagny to forgive him his defeat. + </p> + <p> + Then the move to the Chateau d’Anzy, the rearrangement of her collected + treasures and curiosities, which derived added value from the splendid + setting which Philibert de Lorme seemed to have planned on purpose for + this museum, occupied her for several months, giving her leisure to + meditate one of those decisive steps that startle the public, ignorant of + the motives which, however, it sometimes discovers by dint of gossip and + suppositions. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye had been greatly struck by the reputation of + Lousteau, who was regarded as a lady’s man of the first water in + consequence of his intimacies among actresses; she was anxious to know + him; she read his books, and was fired with enthusiasm, less perhaps for + his talents than for his successes with women; and to attract him to the + country, she started the notion that it was obligatory on Sancerre to + return one of its great men at the elections. She made Gatien Boirouge + write to the great physician Bianchon, whom he claimed as a cousin through + the Popinots. Then she persuaded an old friend of the departed Madame + Lousteau to stir up the journalist’s ambitions by letting him know that + certain persons in Sancerre were firmly bent on electing a deputy from + among the distinguished men in Paris. + </p> + <p> + Tired of her commonplace neighbors, Madame de la Baudraye would thus at + last meet really illustrious men, and might give her fall the lustre of + fame. + </p> + <p> + Neither Lousteau nor Bianchon replied; they were waiting perhaps till the + holidays. Bianchon, who had won his professor’s chair the year before + after a brilliant contest, could not leave his lectures. + </p> + <p> + In the month of September, when the vintage was at its height, the two + Parisians arrived in their native province, and found it absorbed in the + unremitting toil of the wine-crop of 1836; there could therefore be no + public demonstration in their favor. “We have fallen flat,” said Lousteau + to his companion, in the slang of the stage. + </p> + <p> + In 1836, Lousteau, worn by sixteen years of struggle in the Capital, and + aged quite as much by pleasure as by penury, hard work, and + disappointments, looked eight-and-forty, though he was no more than + thirty-seven. He was already bald, and had assumed a Byronic air in + harmony with his early decay and the lines furrowed in his face by + over-indulgence in champagne. He ascribed these signs-manual of + dissipation to the severities of a literary life, declaring that the Press + was murderous; and he gave it to be understood that it consumed superior + talents, so as to lend a grace to his exhaustion. In his native town he + thought proper to exaggerate his affected contempt of life and his + spurious misanthropy. Still, his eyes could flash with fire like a volcano + supposed to be extinct, and he endeavored, by dressing fashionably, to + make up for the lack of youth that might strike a woman’s eye. + </p> + <p> + Horace Bianchon, who wore the ribbon of the Legion of Honor, was fat and + burly, as beseems a fashionable physician, with a patriarchal air, his + hair thick and long, a prominent brow, the frame of a hard worker, and the + calm expression of a philosopher. This somewhat prosaic personality set + off his more frivolous companion to advantage. + </p> + <p> + The two great men remained unrecognized during a whole morning at the inn + where they had put up, and it was only by chance that Monsieur de Clagny + heard of their arrival. Madame de la Baudraye, in despair at this, + despatched Gatien Boirouge, who had no vineyards, to beg the two gentlemen + to spend a few days at the Chateau d’Anzy. For the last year Dinah had + played the chatelaine, and spent the winter only at La Baudraye. Monsieur + Gravier, the Public Prosecutor, the Presiding Judge, and Gatien Boirouge + combined to give a banquet to the great men, to meet the literary + personages of the town. + </p> + <p> + On hearing that the beautiful Madame de la Baudraye was Jan Diaz, the + Parisians went to spend three days at Anzy, fetched in a sort of wagonette + driven by Gatien himself. The young man, under a genuine illusion, spoke + of Madame de la Baudraye not only as the handsomest woman in those parts, + a woman so superior that she might give George Sand a qualm, but as a + woman who would produce a great sensation in Paris. Hence the extreme + though suppressed astonishment of Doctor Bianchon and the waggish + journalist when they beheld, on the garden steps of Anzy, a lady dressed + in thin black cashmere with a deep tucker, in effect like a riding-habit + cut short, for they quite understood the pretentiousness of such extreme + simplicity. Dinah also wore a black velvet cap, like that in the portrait + of Raphael, and below it her hair fell in thick curls. This attire showed + off a rather pretty figure, fine eyes, and handsome eyelids somewhat faded + by the weariful life that has been described. In Le Berry the singularity + of this <i>artistic</i> costume was a cloak for the romantic affectations + of the Superior Woman. + </p> + <p> + On seeing the affectations of their too amiable hostess—which were, + indeed, affectations of soul and mind—the friends glanced at each + other, and put on a deeply serious expression to listen to Madame de la + Baudraye, who made them a set speech of thanks for coming to cheer the + monotony of her days. Dinah walked her guests round and round the lawn, + ornamented with large vases of flowers, which lay in front of the Chateau + d’Anzy. + </p> + <p> + “How is it,” said Lousteau, the practical joker, “that so handsome a woman + as you, and apparently so superior, should have remained buried in the + country? What do you do to make life endurable?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that is the crux,” said the lady. “It is unendurable. Utter despair + or dull resignation—there is no third alternative; that is the arid + soil in which our existence is rooted, and on which a thousand stagnant + ideas fall; they cannot fertilize the ground, but they supply food for the + etiolated flowers of our desert souls. Never believe in indifference! + Indifference is either despair or resignation. Then each woman takes up + the pursuit which, according to her character, seems to promise some + amusement. Some rush into jam-making and washing, household management, + the rural joys of the vintage or the harvest, bottling fruit, embroidering + handkerchiefs, the cares of motherhood, the intrigues of a country town. + Others torment a much-enduring piano, which, at the end of seven years, + sounds like an old kettle, and ends its asthmatic life at the Chateau + d’Anzy. Some pious dames talk over the different brands of the Word of God—the + Abbe Fritaud as compared with the Abbe Guinard. They play cards in the + evening, dance with the same partners for twelve years running, in the + same rooms, at the same dates. This delightful life is varied by solemn + walks on the Mall, visits of politeness among the women, who ask each + other where they bought their gowns. + </p> + <p> + “Conversation is bounded on the south by remarks on the intrigues lying + hidden under the stagnant water of provincial life, on the north by + proposed marriages, on the west by jealousies, and on the east by sour + remarks. + </p> + <p> + “And so,” she went on, striking an attitude, “you see a woman wrinkled at + nine-and-twenty, ten years before the time fixed by the rules of Doctor + Bianchon, a woman whose skin is ruined at an early age, who turns as + yellow as a quince when she is yellow at all—we have seen some turn + green. When we have reached that point, we try to justify our normal + condition; then we turn and rend the terrible passion of Paris with teeth + as sharp as rat’s teeth. We have Puritan women here, sour enough to tear + the laces of Parisian finery, and eat out all the poetry of your Parisian + beauties, who undermine the happiness of others while they cry up their + walnuts and rancid bacon, glorify this squalid mouse-hole, and the dingy + color and conventual smell of our delightful life at Sancerre.” + </p> + <p> + “I admire such courage, madame,” said Bianchon. “When we have to endure + such misfortunes, it is well to have the wit to make a virtue of + necessity.” + </p> + <p> + Amazed at the brilliant move by which Dinah thus placed provincial life at + the mercy of her guests, in anticipation of their sarcasms, Gatien + Boirouge nudged Lousteau’s elbow, with a glance and a smile, which said: + </p> + <p> + “Well! did I say too much?” + </p> + <p> + “But, madame,” said Lousteau, “you are proving that we are still in Paris. + I shall steal this gem of description; it will be worth ten thousand + francs to me in an article.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur,” she retorted, “never trust provincial women.” + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye was wily enough—an innocent form of cunning, + to be sure—to show the two Parisians, one of whom she would choose + to be her conquerer, the snare into which he would fall, reflecting that + she would have the upper hand at the moment when he should cease to see + it. + </p> + <p> + “When you first come,” said she, “you laugh at us. Then when you have + forgotten the impression of Paris brilliancy, and see us in our own + sphere, you pay court to us, if only as a pastime. And you, who are famous + for your past passions, will be the object of attentions which will + flatter you. Then take care!” cried Dinah, with a coquettish gesture, + raising herself above provincial absurdities and Lousteau’s irony by her + own sarcastic speech. “When a poor little country-bred woman has an + eccentric passion for some superior man, some Parisian who has wandered + into the provinces, it is to her something more than a sentiment; she + makes it her occupation and part of all her life. There is nothing more + dangerous than the attachment of such a woman; she compares, she studies, + she reflects, she dreams; and she will not give up her dream, she thinks + still of the man she loves when he has ceased to think of her. + </p> + <p> + “Now one of the catastrophes that weigh most heavily on a woman in the + provinces is that abrupt termination of her passion which is so often seen + in England. In the country, a life under minute observation as keen as an + Indian’s compels a woman either to keep on the rails or to start aside + like a steam engine wrecked by an obstacle. The strategies of love, the + coquetting which form half the composition of a Parisian woman, are + utterly unknown here.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Lousteau. “There is in a country-bred woman’s heart a + store of surprises, as in some toys.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” Dinah went on, “a woman will have spoken to you three times in + the course of a winter, and without your knowing it, you will be lodged in + her heart. Then comes a picnic, an excursion, what not, and all is said—or, + if you prefer it, all is done! This conduct, which seems odd to + unobserving persons, is really very natural. A poet, such as you are, or a + philosopher, an observer, like Doctor Bianchon, instead of vilifying the + provincial woman and believing her depraved, would be able to guess the + wonderful unrevealed poetry, every chapter, in short, of the sweet romance + of which the last phrase falls to the benefit of some happy sub-lieutenant + or some provincial bigwig.” + </p> + <p> + “The provincial women I have met in Paris,” said Lousteau, “were, in fact, + rapid in their proceedings—” + </p> + <p> + “My word, they are strange,” said the lady, giving a significant shrug of + her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “They are like the playgoers who book for the second performance, feeling + sure that the piece will not fail,” replied the journalist. + </p> + <p> + “And what is the cause of all these woes?” asked Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + “Paris is the monster that brings us grief,” replied the Superior Woman. + “The evil is seven leagues round, and devastates the whole land. + Provincial life is not self-existent. It is only when a nation is divided + into fifty minor states that each can have a physiognomy of its own, and + then a woman reflects the glory of the sphere where she reigns. This + social phenomenon, I am told, may be seen in Italy, Switzerland, and + Germany; but in France, as in every country where there is but one + capital, a dead level of manners must necessarily result from + centralization.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you would say that manners could only recover their individuality + and native distinction by the formation of a federation of French states + into one empire?” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “That is hardly to be wished, for France would have to conquer too many + countries,” said Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + “This misfortune is unknown in England,” exclaimed Dinah. “London does not + exert such tyranny as that by which Paris oppresses France—for + which, indeed, French ingenuity will at last find a remedy; however, it + has a worse disease in its vile hypocrisy, which is a far greater evil!” + </p> + <p> + “The English aristocracy,” said Lousteau, hastening to put a word in, for + he foresaw a Byronic paragraph, “has the advantage over ours of + assimilating every form of superiority; it lives in the midst of + magnificent parks; it is in London for no more than two months. It lives + in the country, flourishing there, and making it flourish.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Madame de la Baudraye, “London is the capital of trade and + speculation and the centre of government. The aristocracy hold a ‘mote’ + there for sixty days only; it gives and takes the passwords of the day, + looks in on the legislative cookery, reviews the girls to marry, the + carriages to be sold, exchanges greetings, and is away again; and is so + far from amusing, that it cannot bear itself for more than the few days + known as ‘the season.’” + </p> + <p> + “Hence,” said Lousteau, hoping to stop this nimble tongue by an epigram, + “in Perfidious Albion, as the <i>Constitutionnel</i> has it, you may + happen to meet a charming woman in any part of the kingdom.” + </p> + <p> + “But charming <i>English</i> women!” replied Madame de la Baudraye with a + smile. “Here is my mother, I will introduce you,” said she, seeing Madame + Piedefer coming towards them. + </p> + <p> + Having introduced the two Paris lions to the ambitious skeleton that + called itself woman under the name of Madame Piedefer—a tall, lean + personage, with a red face, teeth that were doubtfully genuine, and hair + that was undoubtedly dyed, Dinah left her visitors to themselves for a few + minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Gatien to Lousteau, “what do you think of her?” + </p> + <p> + “I think that the clever woman of Sancerre is simply the greatest + chatterbox,” replied the journalist. + </p> + <p> + “A woman who wants to see you deputy!” cried Gatien. “An angel!” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, I forgot you were in love with her,” said Lousteau. “Forgive + the cynicism of an old scamp.—Ask Bianchon; I have no illusions + left. I see things as they are. The woman has evidently dried up her + mother like a partridge left to roast at too fierce a fire.” + </p> + <p> + Gatien de Boirouge contrived to let Madame de la Baudraye know what the + journalist had said of her in the course of the dinner, which was copious, + not to say splendid, and the lady took care not to talk too much while it + was proceeding. This lack of conversation betrayed Gatien’s indiscretion. + Etienne tried to regain his footing, but all Dinah’s advances were + directed to Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + However, half-way through the evening, the Baroness was gracious to + Lousteau again. Have you never observed what great meanness may be + committed for small ends? Thus the haughty Dinah, who would not sacrifice + herself for a fool, who in the depths of the country led such a wretched + life of struggles, of suppressed rebellion, of unuttered poetry, who to + get away from Lousteau had climbed the highest and steepest peak of her + scorn, and who would not have come down if she had seen the sham Byron at + her feet, suddenly stepped off it as she recollected her album. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye had caught the mania for autographs; she possessed + an oblong volume which deserved the name of album better than most, as + two-thirds of the pages were still blank. The Baronne de Fontaine, who had + kept it for three months, had with great difficulty obtained a line from + Rossini, six bars written by Meyerbeer, the four lines that Victor Hugo + writes in every album, a verse from Lamartine, a few words from Beranger, + <i>Calypso ne pouvait se consoler du depart d’Ulysse</i> (the first words + of <i>Telemaque</i>) written by George Sand, Scribe’s famous lines on the + Umbrella, a sentence from Charles Nodier, an outline of distance by Jules + Dupre, the signature of David d’Angers, and three notes written by Hector + Berlioz. Monsieur de Clagny, during a visit to Paris, added a song by + Lacenaire—a much coveted autograph, two lines from Fieschi, and an + extremely short note from Napoleon, which were pasted on to pages of the + album. Then Monsieur Gravier, in the course of a tour, had persuaded + Mademoiselle Mars to write her name on this album, with Mademoiselles + Georges, Taglioni, and Grisi, and some distinguished actors, such as + Frederick Lemaitre, Monrose, Bouffe, Rubini, Lablache, Nourrit, and Arnal; + for he knew a set of old fellows brought up in the seraglio, as they + phrased it, who did him this favor. + </p> + <p> + This beginning of a collection was all the more precious to Dinah because + she was the only person for ten leagues round who owned an album. Within + the last two years, however, several young ladies had acquired such books, + in which they made their friends and acquaintances write more or less + absurd quotations or sentiments. You who spend your lives in collecting + autographs, simple and happy souls, like Dutch tulip fanciers, you will + excuse Dinah when, in her fear of not keeping her guests more than two + days, she begged Bianchon to enrich the volume she handed to him with a + few lines of his writing. + </p> + <p> + The doctor made Lousteau smile by showing him this sentence on the first + page: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “What makes the populace dangerous is that it has in its pocket an + absolution for every crime. + + “J. B. DE CLAGNY.” + </pre> + <p> + “We will second the man who is brave enough to plead in favor of the + Monarchy,” Desplein’s great pupil whispered to Lousteau, and he wrote + below: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The distinction between Napoleon and a water-carrier is evident + only to Society; Nature takes no account of it. Thus Democracy, + which resists inequality, constantly appeals to Nature. + + “H. BIANCHON.” + </pre> + <p> + “Ah!” cried Dinah, amazed, “you rich men take a gold piece out of your + purse as poor men bring out a farthing.... I do not know,” she went on, + turning to Lousteau, “whether it is taking an unfair advantage of a guest + to hope for a few lines—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, madame, you flatter me. Bianchon is a great man, but I am too + insignificant!—Twenty years hence my name will be more difficult to + identify than that of the Public Prosecutor whose axiom, written in your + album, will designate him as an obscurer Montesquieu. And I should want at + least twenty-four hours to improvise some sufficiently bitter reflections, + for I could only describe what I feel.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you needed a fortnight,” said Madame de la Baudraye graciously, as + she handed him the book. “I should keep you here all the longer.” + </p> + <p> + At five next morning all the party in the Chateau d’Anzy were astir, + little La Baudraye having arranged a day’s sport for the Parisians—less + for their pleasure than to gratify his own conceit. He was delighted to + make them walk over the twelve hundred acres of waste land that he was + intending to reclaim, an undertaking that would cost some hundred thousand + francs, but which might yield an increase of thirty to sixty thousand + francs a year in the returns of the estate of Anzy. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know why the Public Prosecutor has not come out with us?” asked + Gatien Boirouge of Monsieur Gravier. + </p> + <p> + “Why he told us that he was obliged to sit to-day; the minor cases are + before the Court,” replied the other. + </p> + <p> + “And did you believe that?” cried Gatien. “Well, my papa said to me, + ‘Monsieur Lebas will not join you early, for Monsieur de Clagny has begged + him as his deputy to sit for him!’ + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Gravier, changing countenance. “And Monsieur de la Baudraye + is gone to La Charite!” + </p> + <p> + “But why do you meddle in such matters?” said Bianchon to Gatien. + </p> + <p> + “Horace is right,” said Lousteau. “I cannot imagine why you trouble your + heads so much about each other; you waste your time in frivolities.” + </p> + <p> + Horace Bianchon looked at Etienne Lousteau, as much as to say that + newspaper epigrams and the satire of the “funny column” were + incomprehensible at Sancerre. + </p> + <p> + On reaching a copse, Monsieur Gravier left the two great men and Gatien, + under the guidance of a keeper, to make their way through a little ravine. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we must wait for Monsieur Gravier,” said Bianchon, when they had + reached a clearing. + </p> + <p> + “You may be a great physician,” said Gatien, “but you are ignorant of + provincial life. You mean to wait for Monsieur Gravier?—By this time + he is running like a hare, in spite of his little round stomach; he is + within twenty minutes of Anzy by now——” Gatien looked at his + watch. “Good! he will be just in time.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “At the chateau for breakfast,” replied Gatien. “Do you suppose I could + rest easy if Madame de la Baudraye were alone with Monsieur de Clagny? + There are two of them now; they will keep an eye on each other. Dinah will + be well guarded.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha! Then Madame de la Baudraye has not yet made up her mind?” said + Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “So mamma thinks. For my part, I am afraid that Monsieur de Clagny has at + last succeeded in bewitching Madame de la Baudraye. If he has been able to + show her that he had any chance of putting on the robes of the Keeper of + the Seals, he may have hidden his moleskin complexion, his terrible eyes, + his touzled mane, his voice like a hoarse crier’s, his bony figure, like + that of a starveling poet, and have assumed all the charms of Adonis. If + Dinah sees Monsieur de Clagny as Attorney-General, she may see him as a + handsome youth. Eloquence has great privileges.—Besides, Madame de + la Baudraye is full of ambition. She does not like Sancerre, and dreams of + the glories of Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “But what interest have you in all this?” said Lousteau. “If she is in + love with the Public Prosecutor!—Ah! you think she will not love him + for long, and you hope to succeed him.” + </p> + <p> + “You who live in Paris,” said Gatien, “meet as many different women as + there are days in the year. But at Sancerre, where there are not half a + dozen, and where, of those six, five set up for the most extravagant + virtue, when the handsomest of them all keeps you at an infinite distance + by looks as scornful as though she were of the blood royal, a young man of + two-and-twenty may surely be allowed to make a guess at her secrets, since + she must then treat him with some consideration.” + </p> + <p> + “Consideration! So that is what you call it in these parts?” said the + journalist with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “I should suppose Madame de la Baudraye to have too much good taste to + trouble her head about that ugly ape,” said Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + “Horace,” said Lousteau, “look here, O learned interpreter of human + nature, let us lay a trap for the Public Prosecutor; we shall be doing our + friend Gatien a service, and get a laugh out of it. I do not love Public + Prosecutors.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a keen intuition of destiny,” said Horace. “But what can we do?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, after dinner we will tell sundry little anecdotes of wives caught + out by their husbands, killed, murdered under the most terrible + circumstances.—Then we shall see the faces that Madame de la + Baudraye and de Clagny will make.” + </p> + <p> + “Not amiss!” said Bianchon; “one or the other must surely, by look or + gesture—” + </p> + <p> + “I know a newspaper editor,” Lousteau went on, addressing Gatien, “who, + anxious to forefend a grievous fate, will take no stories but such as tell + the tale of lovers burned, hewn, pounded, or cut to pieces; of wives + boiled, fried, or baked; he takes them to his wife to read, hoping that + sheer fear will keep her faithful—satisfied with that humble + alternative, poor man! ‘You see, my dear, to what the smallest error may + lead you!’ says he, epitomizing Arnolfe’s address to Agnes.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame de la Baudraye is quite guiltless; this youth sees double,” said + Bianchon. “Madame Piedefer seems to me far too pious to invite her + daughter’s lover to the Chateau d’Anzy. Madame de la Baudraye would have + to hoodwink her mother, her husband, her maid, and her mother’s maid; that + is too much to do. I acquit her.” + </p> + <p> + “Well with more reason because her husband never ‘quits her,’ said Gatien, + laughing at his own wit. + </p> + <p> + “We can easily remember two or three stories that will make Dinah quake,” + said Lousteau. “Young man—and you too, Bianchon—let me beg you + to maintain a stern demeanor; be thorough diplomatists, an easy manner + without exaggeration, and watch the faces of the two criminals, you know, + without seeming to do so—out of the corner of your eye, or in a + glass, on the sly. This morning we will hunt the hare, this evening we + will hunt the Public Prosecutor.” + </p> + <p> + The evening began with a triumph for Lousteau, who returned the album to + the lady with this elegy written in it: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SPLEEN + + You ask for verse from me, the feeble prey + Of this self-seeking world, a waif and stray + With none to whom to cling; + From me—unhappy, purblind, hopeless devil! + Who e’en in what is good see only evil + In any earthly thing! + + This page, the pastime of a dame so fair, + May not reflect the shadow of my care, + For all things have their place. + Of love, to ladies bright, the poet sings, + Of joy, and balls, and dress, and dainty things— + Nay, or of God and Grace. + + It were a bitter jest to bid the pen + Of one so worn with life, so hating men, + Depict a scene of joy. + Would you exult in sight to one born blind, + Or—cruel! of a mother’s love remind + Some hapless orphan boy? + + When cold despair has gripped a heart still fond, + When there is no young heart that will respond + To it in love, the future is a lie. + If there is none to weep when he is sad, + And share his woe, a man were better dead!— + And so I soon must die. + + Give me your pity! often I blaspheme + The sacred name of God. Does it not seem + That I was born in vain? + Why should I bless him? Or why thank Him, since + He might have made me handsome, rich, a prince— + And I am poor and plain? + + ETIENNE LOUSTEAU. + September 1836, Chateau d’Anzy. +</pre> + <p> + “And you have written those verses since yesterday?” cried Clagny in a + suspicious tone. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, yes, as I was following the game; it is only too evident! I + would gladly have done something better for madame.” + </p> + <p> + “The verses are exquisite!” cried Dinah, casting up her eyes to heaven. + </p> + <p> + “They are, alas! the expression of a too genuine feeling,” replied + Lousteau, in a tone of deep dejection. + </p> + <p> + The reader will, of course, have guessed that the journalist had stored + these lines in his memory for ten years at least, for he had written them + at the time of the Restoration in disgust at being unable to get on. + Madame de la Baudraye gazed at him with such pity as the woes of genius + inspire; and Monsieur de Clagny, who caught her expression, turned in + hatred against this sham <i>Jeune Malade</i> (the name of an Elegy written + by Millevoye). He sat down to backgammon with the cure of Sancerre. The + Presiding Judge’s son was so extremely obliging as to place a lamp near + the two players in such a way as that the light fell full on Madame de la + Baudraye, who took up her work; she was embroidering in coarse wool a + wicker-plait paper-basket. The three conspirators sat close at hand. + </p> + <p> + “For whom are you decorating that pretty basket, madame?” said Lousteau. + “For some charity lottery, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, “I think there is too much display in charity done to the + sound of a trumpet.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very indiscreet,” said Monsieur Gravier. + </p> + <p> + “Can there be any indiscretion,” said Lousteau, “in inquiring who the + happy mortal may be in whose room that basket is to stand?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no happy mortal in the case,” said Dinah; “it is for Monsieur de + la Baudraye.” + </p> + <p> + The Public Prosecutor looked slily at Madame de la Baudraye and her work, + as if he had said to himself, “I have lost my paper-basket!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, madame, may we not think him happy in having a lovely wife, happy in + her decorating his paper-baskets so charmingly? The colors are red and + black, like Robin Goodfellow. If ever I marry, I only hope that twelve + years after, my wife’s embroidered baskets may still be for me.” + </p> + <p> + “And why should they not be for you?” said the lady, fixing her fine gray + eyes, full of invitation, on Etienne’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Parisians believe in nothing,” said the lawyer bitterly. “The virtue of + women is doubted above all things with terrible insolence. Yes, for some + time past the books you have written, you Paris authors, your farces, your + dramas, all your atrocious literature, turn on adultery—” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Monsieur the Public Prosecutor,” retorted Etienne, laughing, + “I left you to play your game in peace, I did not attack you, and here you + are bringing an indictment against me. On my honor as a journalist, I have + launched above a hundred articles against the writers you speak of; but I + confess that in attacking them it was to attempt something like criticism. + Be just; if you condemn them, you must condemn Homer, whose <i>Iliad</i> + turns on Helen of Troy; you must condemn Milton’s <i>Paradise Lost</i>. + Eve and her serpent seem to me a pretty little case of symbolical + adultery; you must suppress the Psalms of David, inspired by the highly + adulterous love affairs of that Louis XIV. of Judah; you must make a + bonfire of <i>Mithridate, le Tartuffe, l’Ecole des Femmes, Phedre, + Andromaque, le Mariage de Figaro</i>, Dante’s <i>Inferno</i>, Petrarch’s + Sonnets, all the works of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, the romances of the + Middle Ages, the History of France, and of Rome, etc., etc. Excepting + Bossuet’s <i>Histoire des Variations</i> and Pascal’s <i>Provinciales</i>, + I do not think there are many books left to read if you insist on + eliminating all those in which illicit love is mentioned.” + </p> + <p> + “Much loss that would be!” said Monsieur de Clagny. + </p> + <p> + Etienne, nettled by the superior air assumed by Monsieur de Clagny, wanted + to infuriate him by one of those cold-drawn jests which consist in + defending an opinion in which we have no belief, simply to rouse the wrath + of a poor man who argues in good faith; a regular journalist’s pleasantry. + </p> + <p> + “If we take up the political attitude into which you would force + yourself,” he went on, without heeding the lawyer’s remark, “and assume + the part of Public Prosecutor of all the ages—for every Government + has its public ministry—well, the Catholic religion is infected at + its fountain-head by a startling instance of illegal union. In the opinion + of King Herod, and of Pilate as representing the Roman Empire, Joseph’s + wife figured as an adulteress, since, by her avowal, Joseph was not the + father of Jesus. The heathen judge could no more recognize the Immaculate + Conception than you yourself would admit the possibility of such a miracle + if a new religion should nowadays be preached as based on a similar + mystery. Do you suppose that a judge and jury in a police court would give + credence to the operation of the Holy Ghost! And yet who can venture to + assert that God will never again redeem mankind? Is it any better now than + it was under Tiberius?” + </p> + <p> + “Your argument is blasphemy,” said Monsieur de Clagny. + </p> + <p> + “I grant it,” said the journalist, “but not with malicious intent. You + cannot suppress historical fact. In my opinion, Pilate, when he sentenced + Jesus, and Anytus—who spoke for the aristocratic party at Athens—when + he insisted on the death of Socrates, both represented established social + interests which held themselves legitimate, invested with co-operative + powers, and obliged to defend themselves. Pilate and Anytus in their time + were not less logical than the public prosecutors who demanded the heads + of the sergeants of La Rochelle; who, at this day, are guillotining the + republicans who take up arms against the throne as established by the + revolution of July, and the innovators who aim at upsetting society for + their own advantage under pretence of organizing it on a better footing. + In the eyes of the great families of Greece and Rome, Socrates and Jesus + were criminals; to those ancient aristocracies their opinions were akin to + those of the Mountain; and if their followers had been victorious, they + would have produced a little ‘ninety-three’ in the Roman Empire or in + Attica.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you trying to come to, monsieur?” asked the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “To adultery!—For thus, monsieur, a Buddhist as he smokes his pipe + may very well assert that the Christian religion is founded in adultery; + as we believe that Mahomet is an impostor; that his Koran is an epitome of + the Old Testament and the Gospels; and that God never had the least + intention of constituting that camel-driver His Prophet.” + </p> + <p> + “If there were many men like you in France—and there are more than + enough, unfortunately—all government would be impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “And there would be no religion at all,” said Madame Piedefer, who had + been making strangely wry faces all through this discussion. + </p> + <p> + “You are paining them very much,” said Bianchon to Lousteau in an + undertone. “Do not talk of religion; you are saying things that are enough + to upset them.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were a writer or a romancer,” said Monsieur Gravier, “I should take + the side of the luckless husbands. I, who have seen many things, and + strange things too, know that among the ranks of deceived husbands there + are some whose attitude is not devoid of energy, men who, at a crisis, can + be very dramatic, to use one of your words, monsieur,” he said, addressing + Etienne. + </p> + <p> + “You are very right, my dear Monsieur Gravier,” said Lousteau. “I never + thought that deceived husbands were ridiculous; on the contrary, I think + highly of them—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not think a husband’s confidence a sublime thing?” said Bianchon. + “He believes in his wife, he does not suspect her, he trusts her + implicitly. But if he is so weak as to trust her, you make game of him; if + he is jealous and suspicious, you hate him; what, then, I ask you, is the + happy medium for a man of spirit?” + </p> + <p> + “If Monsieur de Clagny had not just expressed such vehement disapproval of + the immorality of stories in which the matrimonial compact is violated, I + could tell you of a husband’s revenge,” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Clagny threw the dice with a convulsive jerk, and dared not + look up at the journalist. + </p> + <p> + “A story, from you!” cried Madame de la Baudraye. “I should hardly have + dared to hope for such a treat—” + </p> + <p> + “It is not my story, madame; I am not clever enough to invent such a + tragedy. It was told me—and how delightfully!—by one of our + greatest writers, the finest literary musician of our day, Charles + Nodier.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, tell it,” said Dinah. “I never met Monsieur Nodier, so you have no + comparison to fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Not long after the 18th Brumaire,” Etienne began, “there was, as you + know, a call to arms in Brittany and la Vendee. The First Consul, anxious + before all things for peace in France, opened negotiations with the rebel + chiefs, and took energetic military measures; but, while combining his + plans of campaign with the insinuating charm of Italian diplomacy, he also + set the Machiavelian springs of the police in movement, Fouche then being + at its head. And none of these means were superfluous to stifle the fire + of war then blaring in the West. + </p> + <p> + “At this time a young man of the Maille family was despatched by the + Chouans from Brittany to Saumur, to open communications between certain + magnates of that town and its environs and the leaders of the Royalist + party. The envoy was, in fact, arrested on the very day he landed—for + he traveled by boat, disguised as a master mariner. However, as a man of + practical intelligence, he had calculated all the risks of the + undertaking; his passport and papers were all in order, and the men told + off to take him were afraid of blundering. + </p> + <p> + “The Chevalier de Beauvoir—I now remember his name—had studied + his part well; he appealed to the family whose name he had borrowed, + persisted in his false address, and stood his examination so boldly that + he would have been set at large but for the blind belief that the spies + had in their instructions, which were unfortunately only too minute. In + this dilemma the authorities were more ready to risk an arbitrary act than + to let a man escape to whose capture the Minister attached great + importance. In those days of liberty the agents of the powers in authority + cared little enough for what we now regard as <i>legal</i>. The Chevalier + was therefore imprisoned provisionally, until the superior officials + should come to some decision as to his identity. He had not long to wait + for it; orders were given to guard the prisoner closely in spite of his + denials. + </p> + <p> + “The Chevalier de Beauvoir was next transferred, in obedience to further + orders, to the Castle of l’Escarpe, a name which sufficiently indicates + its situation. This fortress, perched on very high rocks, has precipices + for its trenches; it is reached on all sides by steep and dangerous paths; + and, like every ancient castle, its principal gate has a drawbridge over a + wide moat. The commandant of this prison, delighted to have charge of a + man of family whose manners were most agreeable, who expressed himself + well, and seemed highly educated, received the Chevalier as a godsend; he + offered him the freedom of the place on parole, that they might together + the better defy its dulness. The prisoner was more than content. + </p> + <p> + “Beauvoir was a loyal gentleman, but, unfortunately, he was also a very + handsome youth. He had attractive features, a dashing air, a pleasing + address, and extraordinary strength. Well made, active, full of + enterprise, and loving danger, he would have made an admirable leader of + guerillas, and was the very man for the part. The commandant gave his + prisoner the most comfortable room, entertained him at his table, and at + first had nothing but praise for the Vendean. This officer was a Corsican + and married; his wife was pretty and charming, and he thought her, + perhaps, not to be trusted—at any rate, he was as jealous as a + Corsican and a rather ill-looking soldier may be. The lady took a fancy to + Beauvoir, and he found her very much to his taste; perhaps they loved! + Love in a prison is quick work. Did they commit some imprudence? Was the + sentiment they entertained something warmer than the superficial gallantry + which is almost a duty of men towards women? + </p> + <p> + “Beauvoir never fully explained this rather obscure episode of the story; + it is at least certain that the commandant thought himself justified in + treating his prisoner with excessive severity. Beauvoir was placed in the + dungeon, fed on black bread and cold water, and fettered in accordance + with the time-honored traditions of the treatment lavished on captives. + His cell, under the fortress-yard, was vaulted with hard stone, the walls + were of desperate thickness; the tower overlooked the precipice. + </p> + <p> + “When the luckless man had convinced himself of the impossibility of + escape, he fell into those day-dreams which are at once the comfort and + the crowning despair of prisoners. He gave himself up to the trifles which + in such cases seem so important; he counted the hours and the days; he + studied the melancholy trade of being prisoner; he became absorbed in + himself, and learned the value of air and sunshine; then, at the end of a + fortnight, he was attacked by that terrible malady, that fever for + liberty, which drives prisoners to those heroic efforts of which the + prodigious achievements seem to us impossible, though true, and which my + friend the doctor” (and he turned to Bianchon) “would perhaps ascribe to + some unknown forces too recondite for his physiological analysis to + detect, some mysteries of the human will of which the obscurity baffles + science.” + </p> + <p> + Bianchon shook his head in negation. + </p> + <p> + “Beauvoir was eating his heart out, for death alone could set him free. + One morning the turnkey, whose duty it was to bring him his food, instead + of leaving him when he had given him his meagre pittance, stood with his + arms folded, looking at him with strange meaning. Conversation between + them was brief, and the warder never began it. The Chevalier was therefore + greatly surprised when the man said to him: ‘Of course, monsieur, you know + your own business when you insist on being always called Monsieur Lebrun, + or citizen Lebrun. It is no concern of mine; ascertaining your name is no + part of my duty. It is all the same to me whether you call yourself Peter + or Paul. If every man minds his own business, the cows will not stray. At + the same time, <i>I</i> know,’ said he, with a wink, ‘that you are + Monsieur Charles-Felix-Theodore, Chevalier de Beauvoir, and cousin to + Madame la Duchesse de Maille.—Heh?’ he added after a short silence, + during which he looked at his prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “Beauvoir, seeing that he was safe under lock and key, did not imagine + that his position could be any the worse if his real name were known. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, and supposing I were the Chevalier de Beauvoir, what should I gain + by that?’ said he. + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh, there is everything to be gained by it,’ replied the jailer in an + undertone. ‘I have been paid to help you to get away; but wait a minute! + If I were suspected in the smallest degree, I should be shot out of hand. + So I have said that I will do no more in the matter than will just earn + the money.—Look here,’ said he, taking a small file out of his + pocket, ‘this is your key; with this you can cut through one of your bars. + By the Mass, but it will not be any easy job,’ he went on, glancing at the + narrow loophole that let daylight into the dungeon. + </p> + <p> + “It was in a splayed recess under the deep cornice that ran round the top + of the tower, between the brackets that supported the embrasures. + </p> + <p> + “‘Monsieur,’ said the man, ‘you must take care to saw through the iron low + enough to get your body through.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I will get through, never fear,’ said the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “‘But high enough to leave a stanchion to fasten a cord to,’ the warder + went on. + </p> + <p> + “‘And where is the cord?’ asked Beauvoir. + </p> + <p> + “‘Here,’ said the man, throwing down a knotted rope. ‘It is made of + raveled linen, that you may be supposed to have contrived it yourself, and + it is long enough. When you have got to the bottom knot, let yourself drop + gently, and the rest you must manage for yourself. You will probably find + a carriage somewhere in the neighborhood, and friends looking out for you. + But I know nothing about that.—I need not remind you that there is a + man-at-arms to the right of the tower. You will take care, of course, to + choose a dark night, and wait till the sentinel is asleep. You must take + your chance of being shot; but—’ + </p> + <p> + “‘All right! All right! At least I shall not rot here,’ cried the young + man. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, that may happen nevertheless,’ replied the jailer, with a stupid + expression. + </p> + <p> + “Beauvoir thought this was merely one of the aimless remarks that such + folks indulge in. The hope of freedom filled him with such joy that he + could not be troubled to consider the words of a man who was no more than + a better sort of peasant. He set to work at once, and had filed the bars + through in the course of the day. Fearing a visit from the Governor, he + stopped up the breaches with bread crumb rubbed in rust to make it look + like iron; he hid his rope, and waited for a favorable night with the + intensity of anticipation, the deep anguish of soul that makes a + prisoner’s life dramatic. + </p> + <p> + “At last, one murky night, an autumn night, he finished cutting through + the bars, tied the cord firmly to the stump, and perched himself on the + sill outside, holding on by one hand to the piece of iron remaining. Then + he waited for the darkest hour of the night, when the sentinels would + probably be asleep; this would be not long before dawn. He knew the hours + of their rounds, the length of each watch, every detail with which + prisoners, almost involuntarily, become familiar. He waited till the + moment when one of the men-at-arms had spent two-thirds of his watch and + gone into his box for shelter from the fog. Then, feeling sure that the + chances were at the best for his escape, he let himself down knot by knot, + hanging between earth and sky, and clinging to his rope with the strength + of a giant. All was well. At the last knot but one, just as he was about + to let himself drop, a prudent impulse led him to feel for the ground with + his feet, and he found no footing. The predicament was awkward for a man + bathed in sweat, tired, and perplexed, and in a position where his life + was at stake on even chances. He was about to risk it, when a trivial + incident stopped him; his hat fell off; happily, he listened for the noise + it must make in striking the ground, and he heard not a sound. + </p> + <p> + “The prisoner felt vaguely suspicious as to this state of affairs. He + began to wonder whether the Commandant had not laid a trap for him—but + if so, why? Torn by doubts, he almost resolved to postpone the attempt + till another night. At any rate, he would wait for the first gleam of day, + when it would still not be impossible to escape. His great strength + enabled him to climb up again to his window; still, he was almost + exhausted by the time he gained the sill, where he crouched on the + lookout, exactly like a cat on the parapet of a gutter. Before long, by + the pale light of dawn, he perceived as he waved the rope that there was a + little interval of a hundred feet between the lowest knot and the pointed + rocks below. + </p> + <p> + “‘Thank you, my friend, the Governor!’ said he, with characteristic + coolness. Then, after a brief meditation on this skilfully-planned + revenge, he thought it wise to return to his cell. + </p> + <p> + “He laid his outer clothes conspicuously on the bed, left the rope outside + to make it seem that he had fallen, and hid himself behind the door to + await the arrival of the treacherous turnkey, arming himself with one of + the iron bars he had filed out. The jailer, who returned rather earlier + than usual to secure the dead man’s leavings, opened the door, whistling + as he came in; but when he was at arm’s length, Beauvoir hit him such a + tremendous blow on the head that the wretch fell in a heap without a cry; + the bar had cracked his skull. + </p> + <p> + “The Chevalier hastily stripped him and put on his clothes, mimicked his + walk, and, thanks to the early hour and the undoubting confidence of the + warders of the great gate, he walked out and away.” + </p> + <p> + It did not seem to strike either the lawyer or Madame de la Baudraye that + there was in this narrative the least allusion that should apply to them. + Those in the little plot looked inquiringly at each other, evidently + surprised at the perfect coolness of the two supposed lovers. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I can tell you a better story than that,” said Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hear,” said the audience, at a sign from Lousteau, conveying that + Bianchon had a reputation as a story-teller. + </p> + <p> + Among the stock of narratives he had in store, for every clever man has a + fund of anecdotes as Madame de la Baudraye had a collection of phrases, + the doctor chose that which is known as <i>La Grande Breteche</i>, and is + so famous indeed, that it was put on the stage at the <i>Gymnase-Dramatique</i> + under the title of <i>Valentine</i>. So it is not necessary to repeat it + here, though it was then new to the inhabitants of the Chateau d’Anzy. And + it was told with the same finish of gesture and tone which had won such + praise for Bianchon when at Mademoiselle des Touches’ supper-party he had + told it for the first time. The final picture of the Spanish grandee, + starved to death where he stood in the cupboard walled up by Madame de + Merret’s husband, and that husband’s last word as he replied to his wife’s + entreaty, “You swore on that crucifix that there was no one in that + closet!” produced their full effect. There was a silent minute, highly + flattering to Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, gentlemen,” said Madame de la Baudraye, “love must be a + mighty thing that it can tempt a woman to put herself in such a position?” + </p> + <p> + “I, who have certainly seen some strange things in the course of my life,” + said Gravier, “was cognizant in Spain of an adventure of the same kind.” + </p> + <p> + “You come forward after two great performers,” said Madame de la Baudraye, + with coquettish flattery, as she glanced at the two Parisians. “But never + mind—proceed.” + </p> + <p> + “Some little time after his entry into Madrid,” said the Receiver-General, + “the Grand Duke of Berg invited the magnates of the capital to an + entertainment given to the newly conquered city by the French army. In + spite of the splendor of the affair, the Spaniards were not very cheerful; + their ladies hardly danced at all, and most of the company sat down to + cards. The gardens of the Duke’s palace were so brilliantly illuminated, + that the ladies could walk about in as perfect safety as in broad + daylight. The fete was of imperial magnificence. Nothing was grudged to + give the Spaniards a high idea of the Emperor, if they were to measure him + by the standard of his officers. + </p> + <p> + “In an arbor near the house, between one and two in the morning, a party + of French officers were discussing the chances of war, and the not too + hopeful outlook prognosticated by the conduct of the Spaniards present at + that grand ball. + </p> + <p> + “‘I can only tell you,’ said the surgeon-major of the company of which I + was paymaster, ‘I applied formally to Prince Murat only yesterday to be + recalled. Without being afraid exactly of leaving my bones in the + Peninsula, I would rather dress the wounds made by our worthy neighbors + the Germans. Their weapons do not run quite so deep into the body as these + Castilian daggers. Besides, a certain dread of Spain is, with me, a sort + of superstition. From my earliest youth I have read Spanish books, and a + heap of gloomy romances and tales of adventures in this country have given + me a serious prejudice against its manners and customs. + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, now, since my arrival in Madrid, I have already been, not indeed + the hero, but the accomplice of a dangerous intrigue, as dark and + mysterious as any romance by Lady (Mrs.) Radcliffe. I am apt to attend to + my presentiments, and I am off to-morrow. Murat will not refuse me leave, + for, thanks to our varied services, we always have influential friends.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Since you mean to cut your stick, tell us what’s up,’ said an old + Republican colonel, who cared not a rap for Imperial gentility and choice + language. + </p> + <p> + “The surgeon-major looked about him cautiously, as if to make sure who + were his audience, and being satisfied that no Spaniard was within + hearing, he said: + </p> + <p> + “‘We are none but Frenchmen—then, with pleasure, Colonel Hulot. + About six days since, I was quietly going home, at about eleven at night, + after leaving General Montcornet, whose hotel is but a few yards from + mine. We had come away together from the Quartermaster-General’s, where we + had played rather high at <i>bouillotte</i>. Suddenly, at the corner of a + narrow high-street, two strangers, or rather, two demons, rushed upon me + and flung a large cloak round my head and arms. I yelled out, as you may + suppose, like a dog that is thrashed, but the cloth smothered my voice, + and I was lifted into a chaise with dexterous rapidity. When my two + companions released me from the cloak, I heard these dreadful words spoken + by a woman, in bad French: + </p> + <p> + “‘"If you cry out, or if you attempt to escape, if you make the very least + suspicious demonstration, the gentleman opposite to you will stab you + without hesitation. So you had better keep quiet.—Now, I will tell + you why you have been carried off. If you will take the trouble to put + your hand out in this direction, you will find your case of instruments + lying between us; we sent a messenger for them to your rooms, in your + name. You will need them. We are taking you to a house that you may save + the honor of a lady who is about to give birth to a child that she wishes + to place in this gentleman’s keeping without her husband’s knowledge. + Though monsieur rarely leaves his wife, with whom he is still passionately + in love, watching over her with all the vigilance of Spanish jealousy, she + had succeeded in concealing her condition; he believes her to be ill. You + must bring the child into the world. The dangers of this enterprise do not + concern us: only, you must obey us, otherwise the lover, who is sitting + opposite to you in this carriage, and who does not understand a word of + French, will kill you on the least rash movement.” + </p> + <p> + “‘"And who are you?” I asked, feeling for the speaker’s hand, for her arm + was inside the sleeve of a soldier’s uniform. + </p> + <p> + “‘"I am my lady’s waiting-woman,” said she, “and ready to reward you with + my own person if you show yourself gallant and helpful in our + necessities.” + </p> + <p> + “‘"Gladly,” said I, seeing that I was inevitably started on a perilous + adventure. + </p> + <p> + “‘Under favor of the darkness, I felt whether the person and figure of the + girl were in keeping with the idea I had formed of her from her tone of + voice. The good soul had, no doubt, made up her mind from the first to + accept all the chances of this strange act of kidnapping, for she kept + silence very obligingly, and the coach had not been more than ten minutes + on the way when she accepted and returned a very satisfactory kiss. The + lover, who sat opposite to me, took no offence at an occasional quite + involuntary kick; as he did not understand French, I conclude he paid no + heed to them. + </p> + <p> + “‘"I can be your mistress on one condition only,” said the woman, in reply + to the nonsense I poured into her ear, carried away by the fervor of an + improvised passion, to which everything was unpropitious. + </p> + <p> + “‘"And what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “‘"That you will never attempt to find out whose servant I am. If I am to + go to you, it must be at night, and you must receive me in the dark.” + </p> + <p> + “‘"Very good,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “‘We had got as far as this, when the carriage drew up under a garden + wall. + </p> + <p> + “‘"You must allow me to bandage your eyes,” said the maid. “You can lean + on my arm, and I will lead you.” + </p> + <p> + “‘She tied a handkerchief over my eyes, fastening it in a tight knot at + the back of my head. I heard the sound of a key being cautiously fitted to + the lock of a little side door by the speechless lover who had sat + opposite to me. In a moment the waiting-woman, whose shape was slender, + and who walked with an elegant jauntiness’—<i>meneho</i>, as they + call it,” Monsieur Gravier explained in a superior tone, “a word which + describes the swing which women contrive to give a certain part of their + dress that shall be nameless.—‘The waiting-woman’—it is the + surgeon-major who is speaking,” the narrator went on—“‘led me along + the gravel walks of a large garden, till at a certain spot she stopped. + From the louder sound of our footsteps, I concluded that we were close to + the house. “Now silence!” said she in a whisper, “and mind what you are + about. Do not overlook any of my signals; I cannot speak without terrible + danger for both of us, and at this moment your life is of the first + importance.” Then she added: “My mistress is in a room on the ground + floor. To get into it we must pass through her husband’s room and close to + his bed. Do not cough, walk softly, and follow me closely, so as not to + knock against the furniture or tread anywhere but on the carpets I laid + down.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Here the lover gave an impatient growl, as a man annoyed by so much + delay. + </p> + <p> + “‘The woman said no more, I heard a door open, I felt the warm air of the + house, and we stole in like thieves. Presently the girl’s light hand + removed the bandage. I found myself in a lofty and spacious room, badly + lighted by a smoky lamp. The window was open, but the jealous husband had + fitted it with iron bars. I was in the bottom of a sack, as it were. + </p> + <p> + “‘On the ground a woman was lying on a mat; her head was covered with a + muslin veil, but I could see her eyes through it full of tears and + flashing with the brightness of stars; she held a handkerchief in her + mouth, biting it so hard that her teeth were set in it: I never saw finer + limbs, but her body was writhing with pain like a harp-string thrown on + the fire. The poor creature had made a sort of struts of her legs by + setting her feet against a chest of drawers, and with both hands she held + on to the bar of a chair, her arms outstretched, with every vein painfully + swelled. She might have been a criminal undergoing torture. But she did + not utter a cry; there was not a sound, all three speechless and + motionless. The husband snored with reassuring regularity. I wanted to + study the waiting-woman’s face, but she had put on a mask, which she had + removed, no doubt, during our drive, and I could see nothing but a pair of + black eyes and a pleasingly rounded figure. + </p> + <p> + “‘The lover threw some towels over his mistress’ legs and folded the + muslin veil double over her face. As soon as I had examined the lady with + care, I perceived from certain symptoms which I had noted once before on a + very sad occasion in my life, that the infant was dead. I turned to the + maid in order to tell her this. Instantly the suspicious stranger drew his + dagger; but I had time to explain the matter to the woman, who explained + in a word or two to him in a low voice. On hearing my opinion, a quick, + slight shudder ran through him from head to foot like a lightning flash; I + fancied I could see him turn pale under his black velvet mask. + </p> + <p> + “‘The waiting-woman took advantage of a moment when he was bending in + despair over the dying woman, who had turned blue, to point to some + glasses of lemonade standing on a table, at the same time shaking her head + negatively. I understood that I was not to drink anything in spite of the + dreadful thirst that parched my throat. The lover was thirsty too; he took + an empty glass, poured out some fresh lemonade, and drank it off. + </p> + <p> + “‘At this moment the lady had a violent attack of pain, which showed me + that now was the time to operate. I summoned all my courage, and in about + an hour had succeeded in delivering her of the child, cutting it up to + extract it. The Spaniard no longer thought of poisoning me, understanding + that I had saved the mother’s life. Large tears fell on his cloak. The + woman uttered no sound, but she trembled like a hunted animal, and was + bathed in sweat. + </p> + <p> + “‘At one horribly critical moment she pointed in the direction of her + husband’s room; he had turned in his sleep, and she alone had heard the + rustle of the sheets, the creaking of the bed or of the curtain. We all + paused, and the lover and the waiting-woman, through the eyeholes of their + masks, gave each other a look that said, “If he wakes, shall we kill him?” + </p> + <p> + “‘At that instant I put out my hand to take the glass of lemonade the + Spaniard had drunk of. He, thinking that I was about to take one of the + full glasses, sprang forward like a cat, and laid his long dagger over the + two poisoned goblets, leaving me his own, and signing to me to drink what + was left. So much was conveyed by this quick action, and it was so full of + good feeling, that I forgave him his atrocious schemes for killing me, and + thus burying every trace of this event. + </p> + <p> + “‘After two hours of care and alarms, the maid and I put her mistress to + bed. The lover, forced into so perilous an adventure, had, to provide + means in case of having to fly, a packet of diamonds stuck to paper; these + he put into my pocket without my knowing it; and I may add + parenthetically, that as I was ignorant of the Spaniard’s magnificent + gift, my servant stole the jewels the day after, and went off with a + perfect fortune. + </p> + <p> + “‘I whispered my instructions to the waiting-woman as to the further care + of her patient, and wanted to be gone. The maid remained with her + mistress, which was not very reassuring, but I was on my guard. The lover + made a bundle of the dead infant and the blood-stained clothes, tying it + up tightly, and hiding it under his cloak; he passed his hand over my eyes + as if to bid me to see nothing, and signed to me to take hold of the skirt + of his coat. He went first out of the room, and I followed, not without a + parting glance at my lady of an hour. She, seeing the Spaniard had gone + out, snatched off her mask and showed me an exquisite face. + </p> + <p> + “‘When I found myself in the garden, in the open air, I confess that I + breathed as if a heavy load had been lifted from my breast. I followed my + guide at a respectful distance, watching his least movement with keen + attention. Having reached the little door, he took my hand and pressed a + seal to my lips, set in a ring which I had seen him wearing on a finger of + his left hand, and I gave him to understand that this significant sign + would be obeyed. In the street two horses were waiting; we each mounted + one. My Spaniard took my bridle, held his own between his teeth, for his + right hand held the bloodstained bundle, and we went off at lightning + speed. + </p> + <p> + “‘I could not see the smallest object by which to retrace the road we came + by. At dawn I found myself close by my own door, and the Spaniard fled + towards the Atocha gate.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘And you saw nothing which could lead you to suspect who the woman was + whom you had attended?’ the Colonel asked of the surgeon. + </p> + <p> + “‘One thing only,’ he replied. ‘When I turned the unknown lady over, I + happened to remark a mole on her arm, about half-way down, as big as a + lentil, and surrounded with brown hairs.’—At this instant the rash + speaker turned pale. All our eyes, that had been fixed on his, followed + his glance, and we saw a Spaniard, whose glittering eyes shone through a + clump of orange-trees. On finding himself the object of our attention, the + man vanished with the swiftness of a sylph. A young captain rushed in + pursuit. + </p> + <p> + “‘By Heaven!’ cried the surgeon, ‘that basilisk stare has chilled me + through, my friends. I can hear bells ringing in my ears! I may take leave + of you; you will bury me here!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What a fool you are!’ exclaimed Colonel Hulot. ‘Falcon is on the track + of the Spaniard who was listening, and he will call him to account.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well,’ cried one and another, seeing the captain return quite out of + breath. + </p> + <p> + “‘The devil’s in it,’ said Falcon; ‘the man went through a wall, I + believe! As I do not suppose that he is a wizard, I fancy he must belong + to the house! He knows every corner and turning, and easily escaped.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I am done for,’ said the surgeon, in a gloomy voice. + </p> + <p> + “‘Come, come, keep calm, Bega,’ said I (his name was Bega), ‘we will sit + on watch with you till you leave. We will not leave you this evening.’ + </p> + <p> + “In point of fact, three young officers who had been losing at play went + home with the surgeon to his lodgings, and one of us offered to stay with + him. + </p> + <p> + “Within two days Bega had obtained his recall to France; he made + arrangements to travel with a lady to whom Murat had given a strong + escort, and had just finished dinner with a party of friends, when his + servant came to say that a young lady wished to speak to him. The surgeon + and the three officers went down suspecting mischief. The stranger could + only say, ‘Be on your guard—’ when she dropped down dead. It was the + waiting-woman, who, finding she had been poisoned, had hoped to arrive in + time to warn her lover. + </p> + <p> + “‘Devil take it!’ cried Captain Falcon, ‘that is what I call love! No + woman on earth but a Spaniard can run about with a dose of poison in her + inside!’ + </p> + <p> + “Bega remained strangely pensive. To drown the dark presentiments that + haunted him, he sat down to table again, and with his companions drank + immoderately. The whole party went early to bed, half drunk. + </p> + <p> + “In the middle of the night the hapless Bega was aroused by the sharp + rattle of the curtain rings pulled violently along the rods. He sat up in + bed, in the mechanical trepidation which we all feel on waking with such a + start. He saw standing before him a Spaniard wrapped in a cloak, who fixed + on him the same burning gaze that he had seen through the bushes. + </p> + <p> + “Bega shouted out, ‘Help, help, come at once, friends!’ But the Spaniard + answered his cry of distress with a bitter laugh.—‘Opium grows for + all!’ said he. + </p> + <p> + “Having thus pronounced sentence as it were, the stranger pointed to the + three other men sleeping soundly, took from under his cloak the arm of a + woman, freshly amputated, and held it out to Bega, pointing to a mole like + that he had so rashly described. ‘Is it the same?’ he asked. By the light + of the lantern the man had set on the bed, Bega recognized the arm, and + his speechless amazement was answer enough. + </p> + <p> + “Without waiting for further information, the lady’s husband stabbed him + to the heart.” + </p> + <p> + “You must tell that to the marines!” said Lousteau. “It needs their robust + faith to swallow it! Can you tell me which told the tale, the dead man or + the Spaniard?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” replied the Receiver-General, “I nursed poor Bega, who died + five days after in dreadful suffering.—That is not the end. + </p> + <p> + “At the time of the expedition sent out to restore Ferdinand VII. I was + appointed to a place in Spain; but, happily for me, I got no further than + Tours when I was promised the post of Receiver here at Sancerre. On the + eve of setting out I was at a ball at Madame de Listomere’s, where we were + to meet several Spaniards of high rank. On rising from the card-table, I + saw a Spanish grandee, an <i>afrancesado</i> in exile, who had been about + a fortnight in Touraine. He had arrived very late at this ball—his + first appearance in society—accompanied by his wife, whose right arm + was perfectly motionless. Everybody made way in silence for this couple, + whom we all watched with some excitement. Imagine a picture by Murillo + come to life. Under black and hollow brows the man’s eyes were like a + fixed blaze; his face looked dried up, his bald skull was red, and his + frame was a terror to behold, he was so emaciated. His wife—no, you + cannot imagine her. Her figure had the supple swing for which the + Spaniards created the word <i>meneho</i>; though pale, she was still + beautiful; her complexion was dazzlingly fair—a rare thing in a + Spaniard; and her gaze, full of the Spanish sun, fell on you like a stream + of melted lead. + </p> + <p> + “‘Madame,’ said I to her, towards the end of the evening, ‘what occurrence + led to the loss of your arm?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I lost it in the war of independence,’ said she.” + </p> + <p> + “Spain is a strange country,” said Madame de la Baudraye. “It still shows + traces of Arab manners.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the journalist, laughing, “the mania for cutting off arms is an + old one there. It turns up every now and then like some of our newspaper + hoaxes, for the subject has given plots for plays on the Spanish stage so + early as 1570—” + </p> + <p> + “Then do you think me capable of inventing such a story?” said Monsieur + Gravier, nettled by Lousteau’s impertinent tone. + </p> + <p> + “Quite incapable of such a thing,” said the journalist with grave irony. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” said Bianchon, “the inventions of romances and play-writers are + quite as often transferred from their books and pieces into real life, as + the events of real life are made use of on the stage or adapted to a tale. + I have seen the comedy of <i>Tartufe</i> played out—with the + exception of the close; Orgon’s eyes could not be opened to the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “And the tragi-comedy of <i>Adolphe</i> by Benjamin Constant is constantly + enacted,” cried Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “And do you suppose,” asked Madame de la Baudraye, “that such adventures + as Monsieur Gravier has related could ever occur now, and in France?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” cried Clagny, “of the ten or twelve startling crimes that are + annually committed in France, quite half are mixed up with circumstances + at least as extraordinary as these, and often outdoing them in romantic + details. Indeed, is not this proved by the reports in the <i>Gazette des + Tribunaux</i>—the Police news—in my opinion, one of the worst + abuses of the Press? This newspaper, which was started only in 1826 or + ‘27, was not in existence when I began my professional career, and the + facts of the crime I am about to speak of were not known beyond the limits + of the department where it was committed. + </p> + <p> + “In the quarter of Saint-Pierre-des-Corps at Tours a woman whose husband + had disappeared at the time when the army of the Loire was disbanded, and + who had mourned him deeply, was conspicuous for her excess of devotion. + When the mission priests went through all the provinces to restore the + crosses that had been destroyed and to efface the traces of revolutionary + impiety, this widow was one of their most zealous proselytes, she carried + a cross and nailed to it a silver heart pierced by an arrow; and, for a + long time after, she went every evening to pray at the foot of the cross + which was erected behind the Cathedral apse. + </p> + <p> + “At last, overwhelmed by remorse, she confessed to a horrible crime. She + had killed her husband, as Fualdes was murdered, by bleeding him; she had + salted the body and packed it in pieces into old casks, exactly as if it + have been pork; and for a long time she had taken a piece every morning + and thrown it into the Loire. Her confessor consulted his superiors, and + told her that it would be his duty to inform the public prosecutor. The + woman awaited the action of the Law. The public prosecutor and the + examining judge, on examining the cellar, found the husband’s head still + in pickle in one of the casks.—‘Wretched woman,’ said the judge to + the accused, ‘since you were so barbarous as to throw your husband’s body + into the river, why did you not get rid of the head? Then there would have + been no proof.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I often tried, monsieur,’ said she, ‘but it was too heavy.’” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and what became of the woman?” asked the two Parisians. + </p> + <p> + “She was sentenced and executed at Tours,” replied the lawyer; “but her + repentance and piety had attracted interest in spite of her monstrous + crime.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you suppose,” said Bianchon, “that we know all the tragedies that + are played out behind the curtain of private life that the public never + lifts?—It seems to me that human justice is ill adapted to judge of + crimes as between husband and wife. It has every right to intervene as the + police; but in equity it knows nothing of the heart of the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “The victim has in many cases been for so long the tormentor,” said Madame + de la Baudraye guilelessly, “that the crime would sometimes seem almost + excusable if the accused could tell all.” + </p> + <p> + This reply, led up to by Bianchon and by the story which Clagny had told, + left the two Parisians excessively puzzled as to Dinah’s position. + </p> + <p> + At bedtime council was held, one of those discussions which take place in + the passages of old country-houses where the bachelors linger, candle in + hand, for mysterious conversations. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Gravier was now informed of the object in view during this + entertaining evening which had brought Madame de la Baudraye’s innocence + to light. + </p> + <p> + “But, after all,” said Lousteau, “our hostess’ serenity may indicate deep + depravity instead of the most child-like innocence. The Public Prosecutor + looks to me quite capable of suggesting that little La Baudraye should be + put in pickle——” + </p> + <p> + “He is not to return till to-morrow; who knows what may happen in the + course of the night?” said Gatien. + </p> + <p> + “We will know!” cried Monsieur Gravier. + </p> + <p> + In the life of a country house a number of practical jokes are considered + admissible, some of them odiously treacherous. Monsieur Gravier, who had + seen so much of the world, proposed setting seals on the door of Madame de + la Baudraye and of the Public Prosecutor. The ducks that denounced the + poet Ibycus are as nothing in comparison with the single hair that these + country spies fasten across the opening of a door by means of two little + flattened pills of wax, fixed so high up, or so low down, that the trick + is never suspected. If the gallant comes out of his own door and opens the + other, the broken hair tells the tale. + </p> + <p> + When everybody was supposed to be asleep, the doctor, the journalist, the + receiver of taxes, and Gatien came barefoot, like robbers, and silently + fastened up the two doors, agreeing to come again at five in the morning + to examine the state of the fastenings. Imagine their astonishment and + Gatien’s delight when all four, candle in hand, and with hardly any + clothes on, came to look at the hairs, and found them in perfect + preservation on both doors. + </p> + <p> + “Is it the same wax?” asked Monsieur Gravier. + </p> + <p> + “Are they the same hairs?” asked Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Gatien. + </p> + <p> + “This quite alters the matter!” cried Lousteau. “You have been beating the + bush for a will-o’-the-wisp.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Gravier and Gatien exchanged questioning glances which were meant + to convey, “Is there not something offensive to us in that speech? Ought + we to laugh or to be angry?” + </p> + <p> + “If Dinah is virtuous,” said the journalist in a whisper to Bianchon, “she + is worth an effort on my part to pluck the fruit of her first love.” + </p> + <p> + The idea of carrying by storm a fortress that had for nine years stood out + against the besiegers of Sancerre smiled on Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + With this notion in his head, he was the first to go down and into the + garden, hoping to meet his hostess. And this chance fell out all the more + easily because Madame de la Baudraye on her part wished to converse with + her critic. Half such chances are planned. + </p> + <p> + “You were out shooting yesterday, monsieur,” said Madame de la Baudraye. + “This morning I am rather puzzled as to how to find you any new amusement; + unless you would like to come to La Baudraye, where you may study more of + our provincial life than you can see here, for you have made but one + mouthful of my absurdities. However, the saying about the handsomest girl + in the world is not less true of the poor provincial woman!” + </p> + <p> + “That little simpleton Gatien has, I suppose, related to you a speech I + made simply to make him confess that he adored you,” said Etienne. “Your + silence, during dinner the day before yesterday and throughout the + evening, was enough to betray one of those indiscretions which we never + commit in Paris.—What can I say? I do not flatter myself that you + will understand me. In fact, I laid a plot for the telling of all those + stories yesterday solely to see whether I could rouse you and Monsieur de + Clagny to a pang of remorse.—Oh! be quite easy; your innocence is + fully proved. + </p> + <p> + “If you had the slightest fancy for that estimable magistrate, you would + have lost all your value in my eyes.—I love perfection. + </p> + <p> + “You do not, you cannot love that cold, dried-up, taciturn little usurer + on wine casks and land, who would leave any man in the lurch for + twenty-five centimes on a renewal. Oh, I have fully recognized Monsieur de + la Baudraye’s similarity to a Parisian bill-discounter; their nature is + identical.—At eight-and-twenty, handsome, well conducted, and + childless—I assure you, madame, I never saw the problem of virtue + more admirably expressed.—The author of <i>Paquita la Sevillane</i> + must have dreamed many dreams! + </p> + <p> + “I can speak of such things without the hypocritical gloss lent them by + young men, for I am old before my time. I have no illusions left. Can a + man have any illusions in the trade I follow?” + </p> + <p> + By opening the game in this tone, Lousteau cut out all excursions in the + <i>Pays de Tendre</i>, where genuine passion beats the bush so long; he + went straight to the point and placed himself in a position to force the + offer of what women often make a man pray for, for years; witness the + hapless Public Prosecutor, to whom the greatest favor had consisted in + clasping Dinah’s hand to his heart more tenderly than usual as they + walked, happy man! + </p> + <p> + And Madame de la Baudraye, to be true to her reputation as a Superior + Woman, tried to console the Manfred of the Press by prophesying such a + future of love as he had not had in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “You have sought pleasure,” said she, “but you have never loved. Believe + me, true love often comes late in life. Remember Monsieur de Gentz, who + fell in love in his old age with Fanny Ellsler, and left the Revolution of + July to take its course while he attended the dancer’s rehearsals.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me unlikely,” replied Lousteau. “I can still believe in love, + but I have ceased to believe in woman. There are in me, I suppose, certain + defects which hinder me from being loved, for I have often been thrown + over. Perhaps I have too strong a feeling for the ideal—like all men + who have looked too closely into reality——” + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye at last heard the mind of a man who, flung into the + wittiest Parisian circles, represented to her its most daring axioms, its + almost artless depravity, its advanced convictions; who, if he were not + really superior, acted superiority extremely well. Etienne, performing + before Dinah, had all the success of a first night. <i>Paquita</i> of + Sancerre scented the storms, the atmosphere of Paris. She spent one of the + most delightful days of her life with Lousteau and Bianchon, who told her + strange tales about the great men of the day, the anecdotes which will + some day form the <i>Ana</i> of our century; sayings and doings that were + the common talk of Paris, but quite new to her. + </p> + <p> + Of course, Lousteau spoke very ill of the great female celebrity of Le + Berry, with the obvious intention of flattering Madame de la Baudraye and + leading her into literary confidences, by suggesting that she could rival + so great a writer. This praise intoxicated Madame de la Baudraye; and + Monsieur de Clagny, Monsieur Gravier, and Gatien, all thought her warmer + in her manner to Etienne than she had been on the previous day. Dinah’s + three <i>attaches</i> greatly regretted having all gone to Sancerre to + blow the trumpet in honor of the evening at Anzy; nothing, to hear them, + had ever been so brilliant. The Hours had fled on feet so light that none + had marked their pace. The two Parisians they spoke of as perfect + prodigies. + </p> + <p> + These exaggerated reports loudly proclaimed on the Mall brought sixteen + persons to Anzy that evening, some in family coaches, some in wagonettes, + and a few bachelors on hired saddle horses. By about seven o’clock this + provincial company had made a more or less graceful entry into the huge + Anzy drawing-room, which Dinah, warned of the invasion, had lighted up, + giving it all the lustre it was capable of by taking the holland covers + off the handsome furniture, for she regarded this assembly as one of her + great triumphs. Lousteau, Bianchon, and Dinah exchanged meaning looks as + they studied the attitudes and listened to the speeches of these visitors, + attracted by curiosity. + </p> + <p> + What invalided ribbons, what ancestral laces, what ancient flowers, more + imaginative than imitative, were boldly displayed on some perennial caps! + The Presidente Boirouge, Bianchon’s cousin, exchanged a few words with the + doctor, from whom she extracted some “advice gratis” by expatiating on + certain pains in the chest, which she declared were nervous, but which he + ascribed to chronic indigestion. + </p> + <p> + “Simply drink a cup of tea every day an hour after dinner, as the English + do, and you will get over it, for what you suffer from is an English + malady,” Bianchon replied very gravely. + </p> + <p> + “He is certainly a great physician,” said the Presidente, coming back to + Madame de Clagny, Madame Popinot-Chandier, and Madame Gorju, the Mayor’s + wife. + </p> + <p> + “They say,” replied Madame de Clagny behind her fan, “that Dinah sent for + him, not so much with a view to the elections as to ascertain why she has + no children.” + </p> + <p> + In the first excitement of this success, Lousteau introduced the great + doctor as the only possible candidate at the ensuing elections. But + Bianchon, to the great satisfaction of the new Sous-prefet, remarked that + it seemed to him almost impossible to give up science in favor of + politics. + </p> + <p> + “Only a physician without a practice,” said he, “could care to be returned + as a deputy. Nominate statesmen, thinkers, men whose knowledge is + universal, and who are capable of placing themselves on the high level + which a legislator should occupy. That is what is lacking in our Chambers, + and what our country needs.” + </p> + <p> + Two or three young ladies, some of the younger men, and the elder women + stared at Lousteau as if he were a mountebank. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Gatien Boirouge declares that Monsieur Lousteau makes twenty + thousand francs a year by his writings,” observed the Mayor’s wife to + Madame de Clagny. “Can you believe it?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible? Why, a Public Prosecutor gets but a thousand crowns!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Gatien,” said Madame Chandier, “get Monsieur Lousteau to talk a + little louder. I have not heard him yet.” + </p> + <p> + “What pretty boots he wears,” said Mademoiselle Chandier to her brother, + “and how they shine!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—patent leather.” + </p> + <p> + “Why haven’t you the same?” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau began to feel that he was too much on show, and saw in the + manners of the good townsfolk indications of the desires that had brought + them there. + </p> + <p> + “What trick can I play them?” thought he. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the footman, so called—a farm-servant put into livery—brought + in the letters and papers, and among them a packet of proof, which the + journalist left for Bianchon; for Madame de la Baudraye, on seeing the + parcel, of which the form and string were obviously from the printers, + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “What, does literature pursue you even here?” + </p> + <p> + “Not literature,” replied he, “but a review in which I am now finishing a + story to come out ten days hence. I have reached the stage of ‘<i>To be + concluded in our next</i>,’ so I was obliged to give my address to the + printer. Oh, we eat very hard-earned bread at the hands of these + speculators in black and white! I will give you a description of these + editors of magazines.” + </p> + <p> + “When will the conversation begin?” Madame de Clagny asked of Dinah, as + one might ask, “When do the fireworks go off?” + </p> + <p> + “I fancied we should hear some amusing stories,” said Madame Popinot to + her cousin, the Presidente Boirouge. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, when the good folks of Sancerre were beginning to murmur + like an impatient pit, Lousteau observed that Bianchon was lost in + meditation inspired by the wrapper round the proofs. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked Etienne. + </p> + <p> + “Why, here is the most fascinating romance possible on some spoiled proof + used to wrap yours in. Here, read it. <i>Olympia, or Roman Revenge</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us see,” said Lousteau, taking the sheet the doctor held out to him, + and he read aloud as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 240 OLYMPIA + + cavern. Rinaldo, indignant at his + companions’ cowardice, for they had + no courage but in the open field, and + dared not venture into Rome, looked + at them with scorn. + + “Then I go alone?” said he. He + seemed to reflect, and then he went + on: “You are poor wretches. I shall + proceed alone, and have the rich + booty to myself.—You hear me! + Farewell.” + + “My Captain,” said Lamberti, “if + you should be captured without + having succeeded?” + + “God protects me!” said Rinaldo, + pointing to the sky. + + With these words he went out, + and on his way he met the steward +</pre> + <p> + “That is the end of the page,” said Lousteau, to whom every one had + listened devoutly. + </p> + <p> + “He is reading his work to us,” said Gatien to Madame Popinot-Chandier’s + son. + </p> + <p> + “From the first word, ladies,” said the journalist, jumping at an + opportunity of mystifying the natives, “it is evident that the brigands + are in a cave. But how careless romancers of that date were as to details + which are nowadays so closely, so elaborately studied under the name of + ‘local color.’ If the robbers were in a cavern, instead of pointing to the + sky he ought to have pointed to the vault above him.—In spite of + this inaccuracy, Rinaldo strikes me as a man of spirit, and his appeal to + God is quite Italian. There must have been a touch of local color in this + romance. Why, what with brigands, and a cavern, and one Lamberti who could + foresee future possibilities—there is a whole melodrama in that + page. Add to these elements a little intrigue, a peasant maiden with her + hair dressed high, short skirts, and a hundred or so of bad couplets.—Oh! + the public will crowd to see it! And then Rinaldo—how well the name + suits Lafont! By giving him black whiskers, tightly-fitting trousers, a + cloak, a moustache, a pistol, and a peaked hat—if the manager of the + Vaudeville Theatre were but bold enough to pay for a few newspaper + articles, that would secure fifty performances, and six thousand francs + for the author’s rights, if only I were to cry it up in my columns. + </p> + <p> + “To proceed:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OR ROMAN REVENGE 219 + + The Duchess of Bracciano found + her glove. Adolphe, who had brought + her back to the orange grove, might + certainly have supposed that there + was some purpose in her forgetful- + ness, for at this moment the arbor + was deserted. The sound of the fes- + tivities was audible in the distance. + The puppet show that had been + promised had attracted all the + guests to the ballroom. Never had + Olympia looked more beautiful. + Her lover’s eyes met hers with an + answering glow, and they under- + stood each other. There was a mo- + ment of silence, delicious to their + souls, and impossible to describe. + They sat down on the same bench + where they had sat in the presence + of the Cavaliere Paluzzi and the +</pre> + <p> + “Devil take it! Our Rinaldo has vanished!” cried Lousteau. “But a literary + man once started by this page would make rapid progress in the + comprehension of the plot. The Duchesse Olympia is a lady who could + intentionally forget her gloves in a deserted arbor.” + </p> + <p> + “Unless she may be classed between the oyster and head-clerk of an office, + the two creatures nearest to marble in the zoological kingdom, it is + impossible to discern in Olympia—” Bianchon began. + </p> + <p> + “A woman of thirty,” Madame de la Baudraye hastily interposed, fearing + some all too medical term. + </p> + <p> + “Then Adolphe must be two-and-twenty,” the doctor went on, “for an Italian + woman at thirty is equivalent to a Parisian of forty.” + </p> + <p> + “From these two facts, the romance may easily be reconstructed,” said + Lousteau. “And this Cavaliere Paluzzi—what a man!—The style is + weak in these two passages; the author was perhaps a clerk in the Excise + Office, and wrote the novel to pay his tailor!” + </p> + <p> + “In his time,” said Bianchon, “the censor flourished; you must show as + much indulgence to a man who underwent the ordeal by scissors in 1805 as + to those who went to the scaffold in 1793.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand in the least?” asked Madame Gorju timidly of Madame de + Clagny. + </p> + <p> + The Public Prosecutor’s wife, who, to use a phrase of Monsieur Gravier’s, + might have put a Cossack to flight in 1814, straightened herself in her + chair like a horseman in his stirrups, and made a face at her neighbor, + conveying, “They are looking at us; we must smile as if we understood.” + </p> + <p> + “Charming!” said the Mayoress to Gatien. “Pray go on, Monsieur Lousteau.” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau looked at the two women, two Indian idols, and contrived to keep + his countenance. He thought it desirable to say, “Attention!” before going + on as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OR ROMAN REVENGE 209 + + dress rustled in the silence. Sud- + denly Cardinal Borborigano stood + before the Duchess. + + “His face was gloomy, his brow + was dark with clouds, and a bitter + smile lurked in his wrinkles. + + “Madame,” said he, “you are under + suspicion. If you are guilty, fly. If + you are not, still fly; because, + whether criminal or innocent, you + will find it easier to defend yourself + from a distance.” + + “I thank your Eminence for your + solicitude,” said she. “The Duke of + Bracciano will reappear when I find + it needful to prove that he is alive.” + </pre> + <p> + “Cardinal Borborigano!” exclaimed Bianchon. “By the Pope’s keys! If you do + not agree with me that there is a magnificent creation in the very name, + if at those words <i>dress rustled in the silence</i> you do not feel all + the poetry thrown into the part of Schedoni by Mrs. Radcliffe in <i>The + Black Penitent</i>, you do not deserve to read a romance.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said Dinah, who had some pity on the eighteen faces gazing + up at Lousteau, “I see how the story is progressing. I know it all. I am + in Rome; I can see the body of a murdered husband whose wife, as bold as + she is wicked, has made her bed on the crater of a volcano. Every night, + at every kiss, she says to herself, ‘All will be discovered!’” + </p> + <p> + “Can you see her,” said Lousteau, “clasping Monsieur Adolphe in her arms, + to her heart, throwing her whole life into a kiss?—Adolphe I see as + a well-made young man, but not clever—the sort of man an Italian + woman likes. Rinaldo hovers behind the scenes of a plot we do not know, + but which must be as full of incident as a melodrama by Pixerecourt. Or we + can imagine Rinaldo crossing the stage in the background like a figure in + one of Victor Hugo’s plays.” + </p> + <p> + “He, perhaps, is the husband,” exclaimed Madame de la Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand anything of it all?” Madame Piedefer asked of the + Presidente. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is charming!” said Dinah to her mother. + </p> + <p> + All the good folks of Sancerre sat with eyes as large as five-franc + pieces. + </p> + <p> + “Go on, I beg,” said the hostess. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau went on:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 210 OLYMPIA + + “Your key——” + + “Have you lost it?” + + “It is in the arbor.” + + “Let us hasten.” + + “Can the Cardinal have taken it?” + + “No, here it is.” + + “What danger we have escaped!” + + Olympia looked at the key, and + fancied she recognized it as her own. + But Rinaldo had changed it; his + cunning had triumphed; he had the + right key. Like a modern Cartouche, + he was no less skilful than bold, + and suspecting that nothing but a + vast treasure could require a duchess + to carry it constantly at her belt. +</pre> + <p> + “Guess!” cried Lousteau. “The corresponding page is not here. We must look + to page 212 to relieve our anxiety.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 212 OLYMPIA + + “If the key had been lost?” + + “He would now be a dead man.” + + “Dead? But ought you not to + grant the last request he made, and + to give him his liberty on the con- + ditions——” + + “You do not know him.” + + “But—” + + “Silence! I took you for my + lover, not for my confessor.” + + Adolphe was silent. +</pre> + <p> + “And then comes an exquisite galloping goat, a tail-piece drawn by + Normand, and cut by Duplat.—the names are signed,” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “Well, and then?” said such of the audience as understood. + </p> + <p> + “That is the end of the chapter,” said Lousteau. “The fact of this + tailpiece changes my views as to the authorship. To have his book got up, + under the Empire, with vignettes engraved on wood, the writer must have + been a Councillor of State, or Madame Barthelemy-Hadot, or the late + lamented Desforges, or Sewrin.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Adolphe was silent.’—Ah!” cried Bianchon, “the Duchess must have + been under thirty.” + </p> + <p> + “If there is no more, invent a conclusion,” said Madame de la Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” said Lousteau, “the waste sheet has been printed fair on one + side only. In printer’s lingo, it is a back sheet, or, to make it clearer, + the other side which would have to be printed is covered all over with + pages printed one above another, all experiments in making up. It would + take too long to explain to you all the complications of a making-up + sheet; but you may understand that it will show no more trace of the first + twelve pages that were printed on it than you would in the least remember + the first stroke of the bastinado if a Pasha condemned you to have fifty + on the soles of your feet.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite bewildered,” said Madame Popinot-Chandier to Monsieur Gravier. + “I am vainly trying to connect the Councillor of State, the Cardinal, the + key, and the making-up——” + </p> + <p> + “You have not the key to the jest,” said Monsieur Gravier. “Well! no more + have I, fair lady, if that can comfort you.” + </p> + <p> + “But here is another sheet,” said Bianchon, hunting on the table where the + proofs had been laid. + </p> + <p> + “Capital!” said Lousteau, “and it is complete and uninjured. It is signed + IV.; J, Second Edition. Ladies, the figure IV. means that this is part of + the fourth volume. The letter J, the tenth letter of the alphabet, shows + that this is the tenth sheet. And it is perfectly clear to me, that in + spite of any publisher’s tricks, this romance in four duodecimo volumes, + had a great success, since it came to a second edition.—We will read + on and find a clue to the mystery. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OR ROMAN REVENGE 21 + + corridor; but finding that he was + pursued by the Duchess’ people +</pre> + <p> + “Oh, get along!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Madame de la Baudraye, “some important events have taken place + between your waste sheet and this page.” + </p> + <p> + “This complete sheet, madame, this precious made-up sheet. But does the + waste sheet in which the Duchess forgets her gloves in the arbor belong to + the fourth volume? Well, deuce take it—to proceed. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Rinaldo saw no safer refuge than to + make forthwith for the cellar where + the treasures of the Bracciano fam- + ily no doubt lay hid. As light of + foot as Camilla sung by the Latin + poet, he flew to the entrance to the + Baths of Vespasian. The torchlight + already flickered on the walls when + Rinaldo, with the readiness be- + stowed on him by nature, discovered + the door concealed in the stone- + work, and suddenly vanished. A + hideous thought then flashed on + Rinaldo’s brain like lightning rend- + ing a cloud: He was imprisoned! + He felt the wall with uneasy haste +</pre> + <p> + “Yes, this made-up sheet follows the waste sheet. The last page of the + damaged sheet was 212, and this is 217. In fact, since Rinaldo, who in the + earlier fragment stole the key of the Duchess’ treasure by exchanging it + for another very much like it, is now—on the made-up sheet—in + the palace of the Dukes of Bracciano, the story seems to me to be + advancing to a conclusion of some kind. I hope it is as clear to you as it + is to me.—I understand that the festivities are over, the lovers + have returned to the Bracciano Palace; it is night—one o’clock in + the morning. Rinaldo will have a good time.” + </p> + <p> + “And Adolphe too!” said President Boirouge, who was considered rather free + in his speech. + </p> + <p> + “And the style!” said Bianchon.—“Rinaldo, who saw <i>no better + refuge than to make for the cellar</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “It is quite clear that neither Maradan, nor Treuttel and Wurtz, nor + Doguereau, were the printers,” said Lousteau, “for they employed + correctors who revised the proofs, a luxury in which our publishers might + very well indulge, and the writers of the present day, would benefit + greatly. Some scrubby pamphlet printer on the Quay—” + </p> + <p> + “What quay?” a lady asked of her neighbor. “They spoke of baths—” + </p> + <p> + “Pray go on,” said Madame de la Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, it is not by a councillor,” said Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + “It may be by Madame Hadot,” replied Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “What has Madame Hadot of La Charite to do with it?” the Presidente asked + of her son. + </p> + <p> + “This Madame Hadot, my dear friend,” the hostess answered, “was an + authoress, who lived at the time of the Consulate.” + </p> + <p> + “What, did women write in the Emperor’s time?” asked Madame + Popinot-Chandier. + </p> + <p> + “What of Madame de Genlis and Madame de Stael?” cried the Public + Prosecutor, piqued on Dinah’s account by this remark. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “I beg you to go on,” said Madame de la Baudraye to Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau went on saying: “Page 218. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 218 OLYMPIA + + and gave a shriek of despair when + he had vainly sought any trace of a + secret spring. It was impossible to + ignore the horrible truth. The door, + cleverly constructed to serve the + vengeful purposes of the Duchess, + could not be opened from within. + Rinaldo laid his cheek against the + wall in various spots; nowhere + could he feel the warmer air from + the passage. He had hoped he + might find a crack that would show + him where there was an opening in + the wall, but nothing, nothing! The + whole seemed to be of one block of + marble. + + Then he gave a hollow roar like + that of a hyaena—— +</pre> + <p> + “Well, we fancied that the cry of the hyaena was a recent invention of our + own!” said Lousteau, “and here it was already known to the literature of + the Empire. It is even introduced with a certain skill in natural history, + as we see in the word <i>hollow</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Make no more comments, monsieur,” said Madame de la Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + “There, you see!” cried Bianchon. “Interest, the romantic demon, has you + by the collar, as he had me a while ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Read on,” cried de Clagny, “I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “What a coxcomb!” said the Presiding Judge in a whisper to his neighbor + the Sous-prefet. + </p> + <p> + “He wants to please Madame de la Baudraye,” replied the new Sous-prefet. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then I will read straight on,” said Lousteau solemnly. + </p> + <p> + Everybody listened in dead silence. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OR ROMAN REVENGE 219 + + A deep groan answered Rinaldo’s + cry, but in his alarm he took it for + an echo, so weak and hollow was + the sound. It could not proceed + from any human breast. + + “Santa Maria!” said the voice. + + “If I stir from this spot I shall + never find it again,” thought Ri- + naldo, when he had recovered his + usual presence of mind. “If I knock, + I shall be discovered. What am I + to do?” + + “Who is here?” asked the voice. + + “Hallo!” cried the brigand; “do + the toads here talk?” + + “I am the Duke of Bracciano. + Whoever you may be, if you are not + a follower of the Duchess’, in the + name of all the saints, come towards + me.” + + 220 OLYMPIA + + “I should have to know where to + find you, Monsieur le Duc,” said Ri- + naldo, with the insolence of a man + who knows himself to be necessary. + + “I can see you, my friend, for my + eyes are accustomed to the darkness. + Listen: walk straight forward— + good; now turn to the left—come + on—this way. There, we are close + to each other.” + + Rinaldo putting out his hands as + a precaution, touched some iron + bars. + + “I am being deceived,” cried the + bandit. + + “No, you are touching my cage. + + OR ROMAN REVENGE 221 + + Sit down on a broken shaft of por- + phyry that is there.” + + “How can the Duke of Bracciano + be in a cage?” asked the brigand. + + “My friend, I have been here for + thirty months, standing up, unable + to sit down——But you, who are + you?” + + “I am Rinaldo, prince of the Cam- + pagna, the chief of four-and-twenty + brave men whom the law describes + as miscreants, whom all the ladies + admire, and whom judges hang in + obedience to an old habit.” + + “God be praised! I am saved. + An honest man would have been + afraid, whereas I am sure of coming + to an understanding with you,” + cried the Duke. “Oh, my worthy + + 222 OLYMPIA + + deliverer, you must be armed to the + teeth.” + + “<i>E verissimo</i>” (most true). + + “Do you happen to have—” + + “Yes, files, pincers—<i>Corpo di + Bacco</i>! I came to borrow the treas- + ures of the Bracciani on a long + loan.” + + “You will earn a handsome share + of them very legitimately, my good + Rinaldo, and we may possibly go + man hunting together—” + + “You surprise me, Eccellenza!” + + “Listen to me, Rinaldo. I will + say nothing of the craving for + vengeance that gnaws at my heart. + I have been here for thirty months + —you too are Italian—you will un- + OR ROMAN REVENGE 223 + + derstand me! Alas, my friend, my + fatigue and my horrible incarcera- + tion are nothing in comparison + with the rage that devours my soul. + The Duchess of Bracciano is still + one of the most beautiful women in + Rome. I loved her well enough to + be jealous—” + + “You, her husband!” + + “Yes, I was wrong, no doubt.” + + “It is not the correct thing, to be + sure,” said Rinaldo. + + “My jealousy was roused by the + Duchess’ conduct,” the Duke went + on. “The event proved me right. A + young Frenchman fell in love with + Olympia, and she loved him. I had + proofs of their reciprocal affection +</pre> + <p> + “Pray excuse me, ladies,” said Lousteau, “but I find it impossible to go + on without remarking to you how direct this Empire literature is, going to + the point without any details, a characteristic, as it seems to me, of a + primitive time. The literature of that period holds a place between the + summaries of chapters in <i>Telemaque</i> and the categorical reports of a + public office. It had ideas, but refrained from expressing them, it was so + scornful! It was observant, but would not communicate its observations to + any one, it was so miserly! Nobody but Fouche ever mentioned what he had + observed. ‘At that time,’ to quote the words of one of the most imbecile + critics in the <i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i>, ‘literature was content with + a clear sketch and the simple outline of all antique statues. It did not + dance over its periods.’—I should think not! It had no periods to + dance over. It had no words to play with. You were plainly told that Lubin + loved Toinette; that Toinette did not love Lubin; that Lubin killed + Toinette and the police caught Lubin, who was put in prison, tried at the + assizes, and guillotined.—A strong sketch, a clear outline! What a + noble drama! Well, in these days the barbarians make words sparkle.” + </p> + <p> + “Like a hair in a frost,” said Monsieur de Clagny. + </p> + <p> + “So those are the airs you affect?”[*] retorted Lousteau. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +[*] The rendering given above is only intended to link the various + speeches into coherence; it has no resemblance with the French. In + the original, “Font chatoyer les <i>mots</i>.” + + “Et quelquefois les <i>morts</i>,” dit Monsieur de Clagny. + + “Ah! Lousteau! vous vous donnez de ces R-la (airs-la).” + + Literally: “And sometimes the dead.”—“Ah, are those the airs you + assume?”—the play on the insertion of the letter R (<i>mots, + morts</i>) has no meaning in English. +</pre> + <p> + “What can he mean?” asked Madame de Clagny, puzzled by this vile pun. + </p> + <p> + “I seem to be walking in the dark,” replied the Mayoress. + </p> + <p> + “The jest would be lost in an explanation,” remarked Gatien. + </p> + <p> + “Nowadays,” Lousteau went on, “a novelist draws characters, and instead of + a ‘simple outline,’ he unveils the human heart and gives you some interest + either in Lubin or in Toinette.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part, I am alarmed at the progress of public knowledge in the + matter of literature,” said Bianchon. “Like the Russians, beaten by + Charles XII., who at least learned the art of war, the reader has learned + the art of writing. Formerly all that was expected of a romance was that + it should be interesting. As to style, no one cared for that, not even the + author; as to ideas—zero; as to local color—<i>non est</i>. By + degrees the reader has demanded style, interest, pathos, and complete + information; he insists on the five literary senses—Invention, + Style, Thought, Learning, and Feeling. Then some criticism commenting on + everything. The critic, incapable of inventing anything but calumny, + pronounces every work that proceeds from a not perfect brain to be + deformed. Some magicians, as Walter Scott, for instance, having appeared + in the world, who combined all the five literary senses, such writers as + had but one—wit or learning, style or feeling—these cripples, + these acephalous, maimed or purblind creatures—in a literary sense—have + taken to shrieking that all is lost, and have preached a crusade against + men who were spoiling the business, or have denounced their works.” + </p> + <p> + “The history of your last literary quarrel!” Dinah observed. + </p> + <p> + “For pity’s sake, come back to the Duke of Bracciano,” cried Monsieur de + Clagny. + </p> + <p> + To the despair of all the company, Lousteau went on with the made-up + sheet. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 224 OLYMPIA + + I then wished to make sure of my + misfortune that I might be avenged + under the protection of Providence + and the Law. The Duchess guessed + my intentions. We were at war in + our purposes before we fought with + poison in our hands. We tried to + tempt each other to such confidence + as we could not feel, I to induce her + to drink a potion, she to get posses- + sion of me. She was a woman, and + she won the day; for women have a + snare more than we men. I fell into + it—I was happy; but I awoke next + day in this iron cage. All through + the day I bellowed with rage in the + + OR ROMAN REVENGE 225 + + darkness of this cellar, over which + is the Duchess’ bedroom. At night + an ingenious counterpoise acting as + a lift raised me through the floor, + and I saw the Duchess in her lover’s + arms. She threw me a piece of + bread, my daily pittance. + + “Thus have I lived for thirty + months! From this marble prison + my cries can reach no ear. There is + no chance for me. I will hope no + more. Indeed, the Duchess’ room is + at the furthest end of the palace, + and when I am carried up there + none can hear my voice. Each time + I see my wife she shows me the + + 226 OLYMPIA + + poison I had prepared for her and + her lover. I crave it for myself, but + she will not let me die; she gives + me bread, and I eat it. + + “I have done well to eat and live; + I had not reckoned on robbers!” + + “Yes, Eccellenza, when those fools + the honest men are asleep, we are + wide awake.” + + “Oh, Rinaldo, all I possess shall + be yours; we will share my treasure + like brothers; I would give you + everything—even to my Duchy——” + + “Eccellenza, procure from the + Pope an absolution <i>in articulo mor- + tis</i>. It would be of more use to me + in my walk of life.” + + OR ROMAN REVENGE 227 + + “What you will. Only file + through the bars of my cage and + lend me your dagger. We have but + little time, quick, quick! Oh, if my + teeth were but files!—I have tried + to eat through this iron.” + + “Eccellenza,” said Rinaldo, “I + have already filed through one bar.” + + “You are a god!” + + “Your wife was at the fete given + by the Princess Villaviciosa. She + brought home her little Frenchman; + she is drunk with love.—You have + plenty of time.” + + “Have you done?” + + “Yes.” + + 228 OLYMPIA + + “Your dagger?” said the Duke + eagerly to the brigand. + + “Here it is.” + + “Good. I hear the clatter of the + spring.” + + “Do not forget me!” cried the + robber, who knew what gratitude + was. + + “No more than my father,” cried + the Duke. + + “Good-bye!” said Rinaldo. “Lord! + How he flies up!” he added to him- + self as the Duke disappeared.—“No + more than his father! If that is + all he means to do for me.—And I + + OR ROMAN REVENGE 229 + + had sworn a vow never to injure a + woman!” + + But let us leave the robber for a + moment to his meditations and go + up, like the Duke, to the rooms in + the palace. +</pre> + <p> + “Another tailpiece, a Cupid on a snail! And page 230 is blank,” said the + journalist. “Then there are two more blank pages before we come to the + word it is such a joy to write when one is unhappily so happy as to be a + novelist—<i>Conclusion</i>! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + CONCLUSION + + Never had the Duchess been more + lovely; she came from her bath + clothed like a goddess, and on seeing + + 234 OLYMPIA + + Adolphe voluptuously reclining on + piles of cushions— + + “You are beautiful,” said she. + + “And so are you, Olympia!” + + “And you still love me?” + + “More and more,” said he. + + “Ah, none but a Frenchman + knows how to love!” cried the + Duchess. “Do you love me well to- + night?” + + “Yes.” + + “Then come!” + + And with an impulse of love and + hate—whether it was that Cardinal + Borborigano had reminded her of + her husband, or that she felt un- + wonted passion to display, she + pressed the springs and held out her + arms. +</pre> + <p> + “That is all,” said Lousteau, “for the foreman has torn off the rest in + wrapping up my proofs. But it is enough to show that the author was full + of promise.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot make head or tail of it,” said Gatien Boirouge, who was the + first to break the silence of the party from Sancerre. + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” replied Monsieur Gravier. + </p> + <p> + “And yet it is a novel of the time of the Empire,” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “By the way in which the brigand is made to speak,” said Monsieur Gravier, + “it is evident that the author knew nothing of Italy. Banditti do not + allow themselves such graceful conceits.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Gorju came up to Bianchon, seeing him pensive, and with a glance + towards her daughter Mademoiselle Euphemie Gorju, the owner of a fairly + good fortune—“What a rhodomontade!” said she. “The prescriptions you + write are worth more than all that rubbish.” + </p> + <p> + The Mayoress had elaborately worked up this speech, which, in her opinion, + showed strong judgment. + </p> + <p> + “Well, madame, we must be lenient, we have but twenty pages out of a + thousand,” said Bianchon, looking at Mademoiselle Gorju, whose figure + threatened terrible things after the birth of her first child. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Monsieur de Clagny,” said Lousteau, “we were talking yesterday of + the forms of revenge invented by husbands. What do you say to those + invented by wives?” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” replied the Public Prosecutor, “that the romance is not by a + Councillor of State, but by a woman. For extravagant inventions the + imagination of women far outdoes that of men; witness <i>Frankenstein</i> + by Mrs. Shelley, <i>Leone Leoni</i> by George Sand, the works of Anne + Radcliffe, and the <i>Nouveau Promethee</i> (New Prometheus) of Camille de + Maupin.” + </p> + <p> + Dinah looked steadily at Monsieur de Clagny, making him feel, by an + expression that gave him a chill, that in spite of the illustrious + examples he had quoted, she regarded this as a reflection on <i>Paquita la + Sevillane</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” said little Baudraye, “the Duke of Bracciano, whom his wife puts + into a cage, and to whom she shows herself every night in the arms of her + lover, will kill her—and do you call that revenge?—Our laws + and our society are far more cruel.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, little La Baudraye is talking!” said Monsieur Boirouge to his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Why, the woman is left to live on a small allowance, the world turns its + back on her, she has no more finery, and no respect paid her—the two + things which, in my opinion, are the sum-total of woman,” said the little + old man. + </p> + <p> + “But she has happiness!” said Madame de la Baudraye sententiously. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the master of the house, lighting his candle to go to bed, “for + she has a lover.” + </p> + <p> + “For a man who thinks of nothing but his vine-stocks and poles, he has + some spunk,” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he must have something!” replied Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye, the only person who could hear Bianchon’s remark, + laughed so knowingly, and at the same time so bitterly, that the physician + could guess the mystery of this woman’s life; her premature wrinkles had + been puzzling him all day. + </p> + <p> + But Dinah did not guess, on her part, the ominous prophecy contained for + her in her husband’s little speech, which her kind old Abbe Duret, if he + had been alive, would not have failed to elucidate. Little La Baudraye had + detected in Dinah’s eyes, when she glanced at the journalist returning the + ball of his jests, that swift and luminous flash of tenderness which gilds + the gleam of a woman’s eye when prudence is cast to the winds, and she is + fairly carried away. Dinah paid no more heed to her husband’s hint to her + to observe the proprieties than Lousteau had done to Dinah’s significant + warnings on the day of his arrival. + </p> + <p> + Any other man than Bianchon would have been surprised at Lousteau’s + immediate success; but he was so much the doctor, that he was not even + nettled at Dinah’s marked preference for the newspaper-rather than the + prescription-writer! In fact, Dinah, herself famous, was naturally more + alive to wit than to fame. Love generally prefers contrast to similitude. + Everything was against the physician—his frankness, his simplicity, + and his profession. And this is why: Women who want to love—and + Dinah wanted to love as much as to be loved—have an instinctive + aversion for men who are devoted to an absorbing occupation; in spite of + superiority, they are all women in the matter of encroachment. Lousteau, a + poet and journalist, and a libertine with a veneer of misanthropy, had + that tinsel of the intellect, and led the half-idle life that attracts + women. The blunt good sense and keen insight of the really great man + weighed upon Dinah, who would not confess her own smallness even to + herself. She said in her mind—“The doctor is perhaps the better man, + but I do not like him.” + </p> + <p> + Then, again, she reflected on his professional duties, wondering whether a + woman could ever be anything but a <i>subject</i> to a medical man, who + saw so many subjects in the course of a day’s work. The first sentence of + the aphorism written by Bianchon in her album was a medical observation + striking so directly at woman, that Dinah could not fail to be hit by it. + And then Bianchon was leaving on the morrow; his practice required his + return. What woman, short of having Cupid’s mythological dart in her + heart, could decide in so short a time? + </p> + <p> + These little things, which lead to such great catastrophes—having + been seen in a mass by Bianchon, he pronounced the verdict he had come to + as to Madame de la Baudraye in a few words to Lousteau, to the + journalist’s great amazement. + </p> + <p> + While the two friends stood talking together, a storm was gathering in the + Sancerre circle, who could not in the least understand Lousteau’s + paraphrases and commentaries, and who vented it on their hostess. Far from + finding in his talk the romance which the Public Prosecutor, the + Sous-prefet, the Presiding Judge, and his deputy, Lebas, had discovered + there—to say nothing of Monsieur de la Baudraye and Dinah—the + ladies now gathered round the tea-table, took the matter as a practical + joke, and accused the Muse of Sancerre of having a finger in it. They had + all looked forward to a delightful evening, and had all strained in vain + every faculty of their mind. Nothing makes provincial folks so angry as + the notion of having been a laughing-stock for Paris folks. + </p> + <p> + Madame Piedefer left the table to say to her daughter, “Do go and talk to + the ladies; they are quite annoyed by your behavior.” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau could not fail to see Dinah’s great superiority over the best + women of Sancerre; she was better dressed, her movements were graceful, + her complexion was exquisitely white by candlelight—in short, she + stood out against this background of old faces, shy and ill-dressed girls, + like a queen in the midst of her court. Visions of Paris faded from his + brain; Lousteau was accepting the provincial surroundings; and while he + had too much imagination to remain unimpressed by the royal splendor of + this chateau, the beautiful carvings, and the antique beauty of the rooms, + he had also too much experience to overlook the value of the personality + which completed this gem of the Renaissance. So by the time the visitors + from Sancerre had taken their leave one by one—for they had an + hour’s drive before them—when no one remained in the drawing-room + but Monsieur de Clagny, Monsieur Lebas, Gatien, and Monsieur Gravier, who + were all to sleep at Anzy—the journalist had already changed his + mind about Dinah. His opinion had gone through the evolution that Madame + de la Baudraye had so audaciously prophesied at their first meeting. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, what things they will say about us on the drive home!” cried the + mistress of the house, as she returned to the drawing-room after seeing + the President and the Presidente to their carriage with Madame and + Mademoiselle Popinot-Chandier. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the evening had its pleasant side. In the intimacy of a small + party each one brought to the conversation his contribution of epigrams on + the figure the visitors from Sancerre had cut during Lousteau’s comments + on the paper wrapped round the proofs. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” said Bianchon to Lousteau as they went to bed—they + had an enormous room with two beds in it—“you will be the happy man + of this woman’s choice—<i>nee</i> Piedefer!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “It is quite natural. You are supposed here to have had many mistresses in + Paris; and to a woman there is something indescribably inviting in a man + whom other women favor—something attractive and fascinating; is it + that she prides herself on being longer remembered than all the rest? that + she appeals to his experience, as a sick man will pay more to a famous + physician? or that she is flattered by the revival of a world-worn heart?” + </p> + <p> + “Vanity and the senses count for so much in love affairs,” said Lousteau, + “that there may be some truth in all those hypotheses. However, if I + remain, it will be in consequence of the certificate of innocence, without + ignorance, that you have given Dinah. She is handsome, is she not?” + </p> + <p> + “Love will make her beautiful,” said the doctor. “And, after all, she will + be a rich widow some day or other! And a child would secure her the + life-interest in the Master of La Baudraye’s fortune—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is quite an act of virtue to make love to her,” said Lousteau, + rolling himself up in the bed-clothes, “and to-morrow, with your help—yes, + to-morrow, I—well, good-night.” + </p> + <p> + On the following day, Madame de la Baudraye, to whom her husband had six + months since given a pair of horses, which he also used in the fields, and + an old carriage that rattled on the road, decided that she would take + Bianchon so far on his way as Cosne, where he would get into the Lyons + diligence as it passed through. She also took her mother and Lousteau, but + she intended to drop her mother at La Baudraye, to go on to Cosne with the + two Parisians, and return alone with Etienne. She was elegantly dressed, + as the journalist at once perceived—bronze kid boots, gray silk + stockings, a muslin dress, a green silk scarf with shaded fringe at the + ends, and a pretty black lace bonnet with flowers in it. As to Lousteau, + the wretch had assumed his war-paint—patent leather boots, trousers + of English kerseymere with pleats in front, a very open waistcoat showing + a particularly fine shirt and the black brocade waterfall of his handsome + cravat, and a very thin, very short black riding-coat. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Clagny and Monsieur Gravier looked at each other, feeling + rather silly as they beheld the two Parisians in the carriage, while they, + like two simpletons, were left standing at the foot of the steps. Monsieur + de la Baudraye, who stood at the top waving his little hand in a little + farewell to the doctor, could not forbear from smiling as he heard + Monsieur de Clagny say to Monsieur Gravier: + </p> + <p> + “You should have escorted them on horseback.” + </p> + <p> + At this juncture, Gatien, riding Monsieur de la Baudraye’s quiet little + mare, came out of the side road from the stables and joined the party in + the chaise. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, good,” said the Receiver-General, “the boy has mounted guard.” + </p> + <p> + “What a bore!” cried Dinah as she saw Gatien. “In thirteen years—for + I have been married nearly thirteen years—I have never had three + hours’ liberty. + </p> + <p> + “Married, madame?” said the journalist with a smile. “You remind me of a + saying of Michaud’s—he was so witty! He was setting out for the Holy + Land, and his friends were remonstrating with him, urging his age, and the + perils of such an expedition. ‘And then,’ said one, ‘you are married.’—‘Married!’ + said he, ‘so little married.’” + </p> + <p> + Even the rigid Madame Piedefer could not repress a smile. + </p> + <p> + “I should not be surprised to see Monsieur de Clagny mounted on my pony to + complete the escort,” said Dinah. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if the Public Prosecutor does not pursue us, you can get rid of + this little fellow at Sancerre. Bianchon must, of course, have left + something behind on his table—the notes for the first lecture of his + course—and you can ask Gatien to go back to Anzy to fetch it.” + </p> + <p> + This simple little plot put Madame de la Baudraye into high spirits. From + the road between Anzy to Sancerre, a glorious landscape frequently comes + into view, of the noble stretches of the Loire, looking like a lake, and + it was got over very pleasantly, for Dinah was happy in finding herself + well understood. Love was discussed in theory, a subject allowing lovers + <i>in petto</i> to take the measure, as it were, of each other’s heart. + The journalist took a tone of refined corruption to prove that love obeys + no law, that the character of the lovers gives infinite variety to its + incidents, that the circumstances of social life add to the multiplicity + of its manifestations, that in love all is possible and true, and that any + given woman, after resisting every temptation and the seductions of the + most passionate lover, may be carried off her feet in the course of a few + hours by a fancy, an internal whirlwind of which God alone would ever know + the secret! + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said he, “is not that the key to all the adventures we have talked + over these three days past?” + </p> + <p> + For these three days, indeed, Dinah’s lively imagination had been full of + the most insidious romances, and the conversation of the two Parisians had + affected the woman as the most mischievous reading might have done. + Lousteau watched the effects of this clever manoeuvre, to seize the moment + when his prey, whose readiness to be caught was hidden under the + abstraction caused by irresolution, should be quite dizzy. + </p> + <p> + Dinah wished to show La Baudraye to her two visitors, and the farce was + duly played out of remembering the papers left by Bianchon in his room at + Anzy. Gatien flew off at a gallop to obey his sovereign; Madame Piedefer + went to do some shopping in Sancerre; and Dinah went on to Cosne alone + with the two friends. Lousteau took his seat by the lady, Bianchon riding + backwards. The two friends talked affectionately and with deep compassion + for the fate of this choice nature so ill understood and in the midst of + such vulgar surroundings. Bianchon served Lousteau well by making fun of + the Public Prosecutor, of Monsieur Gravier, and of Gatien; there was a + tone of such genuine contempt in his remarks, that Madame de la Baudraye + dared not take the part of her adorers. + </p> + <p> + “I perfectly understand the position you have maintained,” said the doctor + as they crossed the Loire. “You were inaccessible excepting to that + brain-love which often leads to heart-love; and not one of those men, it + is very certain, is capable of disguising what, at an early stage of life, + is disgusting to the senses in the eyes of a refined woman. To you, now, + love is indispensable.” + </p> + <p> + “Indispensable!” cried Dinah, looking curiously at the doctor. “Do you + mean that you prescribe love to me?” + </p> + <p> + “If you go on living as you live now, in three years you will be hideous,” + replied Bianchon in a dictatorial tone. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” said Madame de la Baudraye, almost frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive my friend,” said Lousteau, half jestingly. “He is always the + medical man, and to him love is merely a question of hygiene. But he is + quite disinterested—it is for your sake only that he speaks—as + is evident, since he is starting in an hour—” + </p> + <p> + At Cosne a little crowd gathered round the old repainted chaise, with the + arms on the panels granted by Louis XIV. to the new La Baudraye. Gules, a + pair of scales or; on a chief azure (color on color) three cross-crosslets + argent. For supporters two greyhounds argent, collared azure, chained or. + The ironical motto, <i>Deo sic patet fides et hominibus</i>, had been + inflicted on the converted Calvinist by Hozier the satirical. + </p> + <p> + “Let us get out; they will come and find us,” said the Baroness, desiring + her coachman to keep watch. + </p> + <p> + Dinah took Bianchon’s arm, and the doctor set off by the banks of the + Loire at so rapid a pace that the journalist had to linger behind. The + physician had explained by a single wink that he meant to do Lousteau a + good turn. + </p> + <p> + “You have been attracted by Etienne,” said Bianchon to Dinah; “he has + appealed strongly to your imagination; last night we were talking about + you.—He loves you. But he is frivolous, and difficult to hold; his + poverty compels him to live in Paris, while everything condemns you to + live at Sancerre.—Take a lofty view of life. Make Lousteau your + friend; do not ask too much of him; he will come three times a year to + spend a few days with you, and you will owe to him your beauty, happiness, + and fortune. Monsieur de la Baudraye may live to be a hundred; but he + might die in a few days if he should leave off the flannel winding-sheet + in which he swathes himself. So run no risks, be prudent both of you.—Say + not a word—I have read your heart.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye was defenceless under this serried attack, and in + the presence of a man who spoke at once as a doctor, a confessor, and + confidential friend. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said she. “Can you suppose that any woman would care to compete + with a journalist’s mistresses?—Monsieur Lousteau strikes me as + agreeable and witty; but he is <i>blase</i>, etc., etc.——” + </p> + <p> + Dinah had turned back, and was obliged to check the flow of words by which + she tried to disguise her intentions; for Etienne, who seemed to be + studying progress in Cosne, was coming to meet them. + </p> + <p> + “Believe me,” said Bianchon, “what he wants is to be truly loved; and if + he alters his course of life, it will be to the benefit of his talent.” + </p> + <p> + Dinah’s coachman hurried up breathlessly to say that the diligence had + come in, and they walked on quickly, Madame de la Baudraye between the two + men. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, my children!” said Bianchon, before they got into the town, + “you have my blessing!” + </p> + <p> + He released Madame de la Baudraye’s hand from his arm, and allowed + Lousteau to draw it into his, with a tender look, as he pressed it to his + heart. What a difference to Dinah! Etienne’s arm thrilled her deeply. + Bianchon’s had not stirred her in the least. She and the journalist + exchanged one of those glowing looks that are more than an avowal. + </p> + <p> + “Only provincial women wear muslin gowns in these days,” thought Lousteau + to himself, “the only stuff which shows every crease. This woman, who has + chosen me for her lover, will make a fuss over her frock! If she had but + put on a foulard skirt, I should be happy.—What is the meaning of + these difficulties——” + </p> + <p> + While Lousteau was wondering whether Dinah had put on a muslin gown on + purpose to protect herself by an insuperable obstacle, Bianchon, with the + help of the coachman, was seeing his luggage piled on the diligence. + Finally, he came to take leave of Dinah, who was excessively friendly with + him. + </p> + <p> + “Go home, Madame la Baronne, leave me here—Gatien will be coming,” + he added in an undertone. “It is getting late,” said he aloud. “Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye—great man!” cried Lousteau, shaking hands with Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + When the journalist and Madame de la Baudraye, side by side in the rickety + old chaise, had recrossed the Loire, they both were unready to speak. In + these circumstances, the first words that break the silence are full of + terrible meaning. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know how much I love you?” said the journalist point blank. + </p> + <p> + Victory might gratify Lousteau, but defeat could cause him no grief. This + indifference was the secret of his audacity. He took Madame de la + Baudraye’s hand as he spoke these decisive words, and pressed it in both + his; but Dinah gently released it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am as good as an actress or a <i>grisette</i>,” she said in a + voice that trembled, though she spoke lightly. “But can you suppose that a + woman who, in spite of her absurdities, has some intelligence, will have + reserved the best treasures of her heart for a man who will regard her + merely as a transient pleasure?—I am not surprised to hear from your + lips the words which so many men have said to me—but——” + </p> + <p> + The coachman turned round. + </p> + <p> + “Here comes Monsieur Gatien,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I love you, I will have you, you shall be mine, for I have never felt for + any woman the passion I have for you!” said Lousteau in her ear. + </p> + <p> + “In spite of my will, perhaps?” said she, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “At least you must seem to have been assaulted to save my honor,” said the + Parisian, to whom the fatal immaculateness of clean muslin suggested a + ridiculous notion. + </p> + <p> + Before Gatien had reached the end of the bridge, the outrageous journalist + had crumpled up Madame de la Baudraye’s muslin dress to such an effect + that she was absolutely not presentable. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur!” she exclaimed in dignified reproof. + </p> + <p> + “You defied me,” said the Parisian. + </p> + <p> + But Gatien now rode up with the vehemence of a duped lover. To regain a + little of Madame de la Baudraye’s esteem, Lousteau did his best to hide + the tumbled dress from Gatien’s eyes by leaning out of the chaise to speak + to him from Dinah’s side. + </p> + <p> + “Go back to our inn,” said he, “there is still time; the diligence does + not start for half an hour. The papers are on the table of the room + Bianchon was in; he wants them particularly, for he will be lost without + his notes for the lecture.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray go, Gatien,” said Dinah to her young adorer, with an imperious + glance. And the boy thus commanded turned his horse and was off with a + loose rein. + </p> + <p> + “Go quickly to La Baudraye,” cried Lousteau to the coachman. “Madame is + not well—Your mother only will know the secret of my trick,” added + he, taking his seat by Dinah. + </p> + <p> + “You call such infamous conduct a trick?” cried Madame de la Baudraye, + swallowing down a few tears that dried up with the fire of outraged pride. + </p> + <p> + She leaned back in the corner of the chaise, crossed her arms, and gazed + out at the Loire and the landscape, at anything rather than at Lousteau. + The journalist put on his most ingratiating tone, and talked till they + reached La Baudraye, where Dinah fled indoors, trying not to be seen by + any one. In her agitation she threw herself on a sofa and burst into + tears. + </p> + <p> + “If I am an object of horror to you, of aversion or scorn, I will go,” + said Lousteau, who had followed her. And he threw himself at her feet. + </p> + <p> + It was at this crisis that Madame Piedefer came in, saying to her + daughter: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter? What has happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Give your daughter another dress at once,” said the audacious Parisian in + the prim old lady’s ear. + </p> + <p> + Hearing the mad gallop of Gatien’s horse, Madame de la Baudraye fled to + her bedroom, followed by her mother. + </p> + <p> + “There are no papers at the inn,” said Gatien to Lousteau, who went out to + meet him. + </p> + <p> + “And you found none at the Chateau d’Anzy either?” replied Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “You have been making a fool of me,” said Gatien, in a cold, set voice. + </p> + <p> + “Quite so,” replied Lousteau. “Madame de la Baudraye was greatly annoyed + by your choosing to follow her without being invited. Believe me, to bore + a woman is a bad way of courting her. Dinah has played you a trick, and + you have given her a laugh; it is more than any of you has done in these + thirteen years past. You owe that success to Bianchon, for your cousin was + the author of the Farce of the ‘Manuscript.’—Will the horse get over + it?” asked Lousteau with a laugh, while Gatien was wondering whether to be + angry or not. + </p> + <p> + “The horse!” said Gatien. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Madame de la Baudraye came in, dressed in a velvet gown, + and accompanied by her mother, who shot angry flashes at Lousteau. It + would have been too rash for Dinah to seem cold or severe to Lousteau in + Gatien’s presence; and Etienne, taking advantage of this, offered his arm + to the supposed Lucretia; however, she declined it. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to cast off a man who has vowed to live for you?” said he, + walking close beside her. “I shall stop at Sancerre and go home + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you coming, mamma?” said Madame de la Baudraye to Madame Piedefer, + thus avoiding a reply to the direct challenge by which Lousteau was + forcing her to a decision. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau handed the mother into the chaise, he helped Madame de la + Baudraye by gently taking her arm, and he and Gatien took the front seat, + leaving the saddle horse at La Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + “You have changed your gown,” said Gatien, blunderingly, to Dinah. + </p> + <p> + “Madame la Baronne was chilled by the cool air off the river,” replied + Lousteau. “Bianchon advised her to put on a warm dress.” + </p> + <p> + Dinah turned as red as a poppy, and Madame Piedefer assumed a stern + expression. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Bianchon! he is on the road to Paris. A noble soul!” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” cried Madame de la Baudraye, “he is high-minded, full of + delicate feeling——” + </p> + <p> + “We were in such good spirits when we set out,” said Lousteau; “now you + are overdone, and you speak to me so bitterly—why? Are you not + accustomed to being told how handsome and how clever you are? For my part, + I say boldly, before Gatien, I give up Paris; I mean to stay at Sancerre + and swell the number of your <i>cavalieri serventi</i>. I feel so young + again in my native district; I have quite forgotten Paris and all its + wickedness, and its bores, and its wearisome pleasures.—Yes, my life + seems in a way purified.” + </p> + <p> + Dinah allowed Lousteau to talk without even looking at him; but at last + there was a moment when this serpent’s rhodomontade was really so inspired + by the effort he made to affect passion in phrases and ideas of which the + meaning, though hidden from Gatien, found a loud response in Dinah’s + heart, that she raised her eyes to his. This look seemed to crown + Lousteau’s joy; his wit flowed more freely, and at last he made Madame de + la Baudraye laugh. When, under circumstances which so seriously compromise + her pride, a woman has been made to laugh, she is finally committed. + </p> + <p> + As they drove in by the spacious graveled forecourt, with its lawn in the + middle, and the large vases filled with flowers which so well set off the + facade of Anzy, the journalist was saying: + </p> + <p> + “When women love, they forgive everything, even our crimes; when they do + not love, they cannot forgive anything—not even our virtues.—Do + you forgive me,” he added in Madame de la Baudraye’s ear, and pressing her + arm to his heart with tender emphasis. And Dinah could not help smiling. + </p> + <p> + All through dinner, and for the rest of the evening, Etienne was in the + most delightful spirits, inexhaustibly cheerful; but while thus giving + vent to his intoxication, he now and then fell into the dreamy abstraction + of a man who seems rapt in his own happiness. + </p> + <p> + After coffee had been served, Madame de la Baudraye and her mother left + the men to wander about the gardens. Monsieur Gravier then remarked to + Monsieur de Clagny: + </p> + <p> + “Did you observe that Madame de la Baudraye, after going out in a muslin + gown came home in a velvet?” + </p> + <p> + “As she got into the carriage at Cosne, the muslin dress caught on a brass + nail and was torn all the way down,” replied Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” exclaimed Gatien, stricken to the heart by hearing two such + different explanations. + </p> + <p> + The journalist, who understood, took Gatien by the arm and pressed it as a + hint to him to be silent. A few minutes later Etienne left Dinah’s three + adorers and took possession of little La Baudraye. Then Gatien was + cross-questioned as to the events of the day. Monsieur Gravier and + Monsieur de Clagny were dismayed to hear that on the return from Cosne + Lousteau had been alone with Dinah, and even more so on hearing the two + versions explaining the lady’s change of dress. And the three discomfited + gentlemen were in a very awkward position for the rest of the evening. + </p> + <p> + Next day each, on various business, was obliged to leave Anzy; Dinah + remained with her mother, Lousteau, and her husband. The annoyance vented + by the three victims gave rise to an organized rebellion in Sancerre. The + surrender of the Muse of Le Berry, of the Nivernais, and of Morvan was the + cause of a perfect hue and cry of slander, evil report, and various + guesses in which the story of the muslin gown held a prominent place. No + dress Dinah had ever worn had been so much commented on, or was half as + interesting to the girls, who could not conceive what the connection might + be, that made the married women laugh, between love and a muslin gown. + </p> + <p> + The Presidente Boirouge, furious at her son’s discomfiture, forgot the + praise she had lavished on the poem of <i>Paquita</i>, and fulminated + terrific condemnation on the woman who could publish such a disgraceful + work. + </p> + <p> + “The wretched woman commits every crime she writes about,” said she. + “Perhaps she will come to the same end as her heroine!” + </p> + <p> + Dinah’s fate among the good folks of Sancerre was like that of Marechal + Soult in the opposition newspapers; as long as he is minister he lost the + battle of Toulouse; whenever he is out of the Government he won it! While + she was virtuous, Dinah was a match for Camille de Maupin, a rival of the + most famous women; but as soon as she was happy, she was an <i>unhappy + creature</i>. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Clagny was her valiant champion; he went several times to the + Chateau d’Anzy to acquire the right to contradict the rumors current as to + the woman he still faithfully adored, even in her fall; and he maintained + that she and Lousteau were engaged together on some great work. But the + lawyer was laughed to scorn. + </p> + <p> + The month of October was lovely; autumn is the finest season in the valley + of the Loire; but in 1836 it was unusually glorious. Nature seemed to aid + and abet Dinah, who, as Bianchon had predicted, gradually developed a + heart-felt passion. In one month she was an altered woman. She was + surprised to find in herself so many inert and dormant qualities, hitherto + in abeyance. To her Lousteau seemed an angel; for heart-love, the crowning + need of a great nature, had made a new woman of her. Dinah was alive! She + had found an outlet for her powers, she saw undreamed-of vistas in the + future—in short, she was happy, happy without alarms or hindrances. + The vast castle, the gardens, the park, the forest, favored love. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau found in Madame de la Baudraye an artlessness, nay, if you will, + an innocence of mind which made her very original; there was much more of + the unexpected and winning in her than in a girl. Lousteau was quite alive + to a form of flattery which in most women is assumed, but which in Dinah + was genuine; she really learned from him the ways of love; he really was + the first to reign in her heart. And, indeed, he took the trouble to be + exceedingly amiable. + </p> + <p> + Men, like women, have a stock in hand of recitatives, of <i>cantabile</i>, + of <i>nocturnes</i>, airs and refrains—shall we say of recipes, + although we speak of love—which each one believes to be exclusively + his own. Men who have reached Lousteau’s age try to distribute the + “movements” of this repertoire through the whole opera of a passion. + Lousteau, regarding this adventure with Dinah as a mere temporary + connection, was eager to stamp himself on her memory in indelible lines; + and during that beautiful October he was prodigal of his most entrancing + melodies and most elaborate <i>barcarolles</i>. In fact, he exhausted + every resource of the stage management of love, to use an expression + borrowed from the theatrical dictionary, and admirably descriptive of his + manoeuvres. + </p> + <p> + “If that woman ever forgets me!” he would sometimes say to himself as they + returned together from a long walk in the woods, “I will owe her no grudge—she + will have found something better.” + </p> + <p> + When two beings have sung together all the duets of that enchanting score, + and still love each other, it may be said that they love truly. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau, however, had not time to repeat himself, for he was to leave + Anzy in the early days of November. His paper required his presence in + Paris. Before breakfast, on the day before he was to leave, the journalist + and Dinah saw the master of the house come in with an artist from Nevers, + who restored carvings of all kinds. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” asked Lousteau. “What is to be done to the + chateau?” + </p> + <p> + “This is what I am going to do,” said the little man, leading Lousteau, + the local artist, and Dinah out on the terrace. + </p> + <p> + He pointed out, on the front of the building, a shield supported by two + sirens, not unlike that which may be seen on the arcade, now closed, + through which there used to be a passage from the Quai des Tuileries to + the courtyard of the old Louvre, and over which the words may still be + seen, “<i>Bibliotheque du Cabinet du Roi</i>.” This shield bore the arms + of the noble House of Uxelles, namely, Or and gules party per fess, with + two lions or, dexter and sinister as supporters. Above, a knight’s helm, + mantled of the tincture of the shield, and surmounted by a ducal coronet. + Motto, <i>Cy paroist!</i> A proud and sonorous device. + </p> + <p> + “I want to put my own coat of arms in the place of that of the Uxelles; + and as they are repeated six times on the two fronts and the two wings, it + is not a trifling affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Your arms, so new, and since 1830!” exclaimed Dinah. + </p> + <p> + “Have I not created an entail?” + </p> + <p> + “I could understand it if you had children,” said the journalist. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the old man, “Madame de la Baudraye is still young; there is no + time lost.” + </p> + <p> + This allusion made Lousteau smile; he did not understand Monsieur de la + Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + “There, Didine!” said he in Dinah’s ear, “what a waste of remorse!” + </p> + <p> + Dinah begged him to give her one day more, and the lovers parted after the + manner of certain theatres, which give ten last performances of a piece + that is paying. And how many promises they made! How many solemn pledges + did not Dinah exact and the unblushing journalist give her! + </p> + <p> + Dinah, with superiority of the Superior Woman, accompanied Lousteau, in + the face of all the world, as far as Cosne, with her mother and little La + Baudraye. When, ten days later, Madame de la Baudraye saw in her + drawing-room at La Baudraye, Monsieur de Clagny, Gatien, and Gravier, she + found an opportunity of saying to each in turn: + </p> + <p> + “I owe it to Monsieur Lousteau that I discovered that I had not been loved + for my own sake.” + </p> + <p> + And what noble speeches she uttered, on man, on the nature of his + feelings, on the end of his base passions, and so forth. Of Dinah’s three + worshipers, Monsieur de Clagny only said to her: “I love you, come what + may”—and Dinah accepted him as her confidant, lavished on him all + the marks of friendship which women can devise for the Gurths who are + ready thus to wear the collar of gilded slavery. + </p> + <p> + In Paris once more, Lousteau had, in a few weeks, lost the impression of + the happy time he had spent at the Chateau d’Anzy. This is why: Lousteau + lived by his pen. + </p> + <p> + In this century, especially since the triumph of the <i>bourgeoisie</i>—the + commonplace, money-saving citizen—who takes good care not to imitate + Francis I. or Louis XIV.—to live by the pen is a form of penal + servitude to which a galley-slave would prefer death. To live by the pen + means to create—to create to-day, and to-morrow, and incessantly—or + to seem to create; and the imitation costs as dear as the reality. So, + besides his daily contribution to a newspaper, which was like the stone of + Sisyphus, and which came every Monday, crashing down on to the feather of + his pen, Etienne worked for three or four literary magazines. Still, do + not be alarmed; he put no artistic conscientiousness into his work. This + man of Sancerre had a facility, a carelessness, if you call it so, which + ranked him with those writers who are mere scriveners, literary hacks. In + Paris, in our day, hack-work cuts a man off from every pretension to a + literary position. When he can do no more, or no longer cares for + advancement, the man who can write becomes a journalist and a hack. + </p> + <p> + The life he leads is not unpleasing. Blue-stockings, beginners in every + walk of life, actresses at the outset or the close of a career, publishers + and authors, all make much of these writers of the ready pen. Lousteau, a + thorough man about town, lived at scarcely any expense beyond paying his + rent. He had boxes at all the theatres; the sale of the books he reviewed + or left unreviewed paid for his gloves; and he would say to those authors + who published at their own expense, “I have your book always in my hands!” + He took toll from vanity in the form of drawings or pictures. Every day + had its engagements to dinner, every night its theatre, every morning was + filled up with callers, visits, and lounging. His serial in the paper, two + novels a year for weekly magazines, and his miscellaneous articles were + the tax he paid for this easy-going life. And yet, to reach this position, + Etienne had struggled for ten years. + </p> + <p> + At the present time, known to the literary world, liked for the good or + the mischief he did with equally facile good humor, he let himself float + with the stream, never caring for the future. He ruled a little set of + newcomers, he had friendships—or rather, habits of fifteen years’ + standing, and men with whom he supped, and dined, and indulged his wit. He + earned from seven to eight hundred francs a month, a sum which he found + quite insufficient for the prodigality peculiar to the impecunious. + Indeed, Lousteau found himself now just as hard up as when, on first + appearing in Paris, he had said to himself, “If I had but five hundred + francs a month, I should be rich!” + </p> + <p> + The cause of this phenomenon was as follows: Lousteau lived in the Rue des + Martyrs in pretty ground-floor rooms with a garden, and splendidly + furnished. When he settled there in 1833 he had come to an agreement with + an upholsterer that kept his pocket money low for a long time. These rooms + were let for twelve hundred francs. The months of January, April, July, + and October were, as he phrased it, his indigent months. The rent and the + porter’s account cleaned him out. Lousteau took no fewer hackney cabs, + spend a hundred francs in breakfasts all the same, smoked thirty francs’ + worth of cigars, and could never refuse the mistress of a day a dinner or + a new dress. He thus dipped so deeply into the fluctuating earnings of the + following months, that he could no more find a hundred francs on his + chimney-piece now, when he was making seven or eight hundred francs a + month, than he could in 1822, when he was hardly getting two hundred. + </p> + <p> + Tired, sometimes, by the incessant vicissitudes of a literary life, and as + much bored by amusement as a courtesan, Lousteau would get out of the + tideway and sit on the bank, and say to one and another of his intimate + allies—Nathan or Bixiou, as they sat smoking in his scrap of garden, + looking out on an evergreen lawn as big as a dinner-table: + </p> + <p> + “What will be the end of us? White hairs are giving us respectful hints!” + </p> + <p> + “Lord! we shall marry when we choose to give as much thought to the matter + as we give to a drama or a novel,” said Nathan. + </p> + <p> + “And Florine?” retorted Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we all have a Florine,” said Etienne, flinging away the end of his + cigar and thinking of Madame Schontz. + </p> + <p> + Madame Schontz was a pretty enough woman to put a very high price on the + interest on her beauty, while reserving absolute ownership for Lousteau, + the man of her heart. Like all those women who get the name in Paris of <i>Lorettes</i>, + from the Church of Notre Dame de Lorette, round about which they dwell, + she lived in the Rue Flechier, a stone’s throw from Lousteau. This lady + took a pride and delight in teasing her friends by boasting of having a + Wit for her lover. + </p> + <p> + These details of Lousteau’s life and fortune are indispensable, for this + penury and this bohemian existence of a man to whom Parisian luxury had + become a necessity, were fated to have a cruel influence on Dinah’s life. + Those to whom the bohemia of Paris is familiar will now understand how it + was that, by the end of a fortnight, the journalist, up to his ears in the + literary environment, could laugh about his Baroness with his friends and + even with Madame Schontz. To such readers as regard such things as utterly + mean, it is almost useless to make excuses which they will not accept. + </p> + <p> + “What did you do at Sancerre?” asked Bixiou the first time he met + Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “I did good service to three worthy provincials—a Receiver-General + of Taxes, a little cousin of his, and a Public Prosecutor, who for ten + years had been dancing round and round one of the hundred ‘Tenth Muses’ + who adorn the Departments,” said he. “But they had no more dared to touch + her than we touch a decorated cream at dessert till some strong-minded + person has made a hole in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy!” said Bixiou. “I said you had gone to Sancerre to turn Pegasus + out to grass.” + </p> + <p> + “Your joke is as stupid as my Muse is handsome,” retorted Lousteau. “Ask + Bianchon, my dear fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “A Muse and a Poet! A homoeopathic cure then!” said Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + On the tenth day Lousteau received a letter with the Sancerre post-mark. + </p> + <p> + “Good! very good!” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “‘Beloved friend, idol of my heart and soul——’ twenty pages of + it! all at one sitting, and dated midnight! She writes when she finds + herself alone. Poor woman! Ah, ha! And a postscript— + </p> + <p> + “‘I dare not ask you to write to me as I write, every day; still, I hope + to have a few lines from my dear one every week, to relieve my mind.’—What + a pity to burn it all! it is really well written,” said Lousteau to + himself, as he threw the ten sheets of paper into the fire after having + read them. “That woman was born to reel off copy!” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau was not much afraid of Madame Schontz, who really loved him for + himself, but he had supplanted a friend in the heart of a Marquise. This + Marquise, a lady nowise coy, sometimes dropped in unexpectedly at his + rooms in the evening, arriving veiled in a hackney coach; and she, as a + literary woman, allowed herself to hunt through all his drawers. + </p> + <p> + A week later, Lousteau, who hardly remembered Dinah, was startled by + another budget from Sancerre—eight leaves, sixteen pages! He heard a + woman’s step; he thought it announced a search from the Marquise, and + tossed these rapturous and entrancing proofs of affections into the fire—unread! + </p> + <p> + “A woman’s letter!” exclaimed Madame Schontz, as she came in. “The paper, + the wax, are scented—” + </p> + <p> + “Here you are, sir,” said a porter from the coach office, setting down two + huge hampers in the ante-room. “Carriage paid. Please to sign my book.” + </p> + <p> + “Carriage paid!” cried Madame Schontz. “It must have come from Sancerre.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame,” said the porter. + </p> + <p> + “Your Tenth Muse is a remarkably intelligent woman,” said the courtesan, + opening one of the hampers, while Lousteau was writing his name. “I like a + Muse who understands housekeeping, and who can make game pies as well as + blots. And, oh! what beautiful flowers!” she went on, opening the second + hamper. “Why, you could get none finer in Paris!—And here, and here! + A hare, partridges, half a roebuck!—We will ask your friends and + have a famous dinner, for Athalie has a special talent for dressing + venison.” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau wrote to Dinah; but instead of writing from the heart, he was + clever. The letter was all the more insidious; it was like one of + Mirabeau’s letters to Sophie. The style of a true lover is transparent. It + is a clear stream which allows the bottom of the heart to be seen between + two banks, bright with the trifles of existence, and covered with the + flowers of the soul that blossom afresh every day, full of intoxicating + beauty—but only for two beings. As soon as a love letter has any + charm for a third reader, it is beyond doubt the product of the head, not + of the heart. But a woman will always be beguiled; she always believes + herself to be the determining cause of this flow of wit. + </p> + <p> + By the end of December Lousteau had ceased to read Dinah’s letters; they + lay in a heap in a drawer of his chest that was never locked, under his + shirts, which they scented. + </p> + <p> + Then one of those chances came to Lousteau which such bohemians ought to + clutch by every hair. In the middle of December, Madame Schontz, who took + a real interest in Etienne, sent to beg him to call on her one morning on + business. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, you have a chance of marrying.” + </p> + <p> + “I can marry very often, happily, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “When I say marrying, I mean marrying well. You have no prejudices: I need + not mince matters. This is the position: A young lady has got into + trouble; her mother knows nothing of even a kiss. Her father is an honest + notary, a man of honor; he has been wise enough to keep it dark. He wants + to get his daughter married within a fortnight, and he will give her a + fortune of a hundred and fifty thousand francs—for he has three + other children; but—and it is not a bad idea—he will add a + hundred thousand francs, under the rose, hand to hand, to cover the + damages. They are an old family of Paris citizens, Rue des Lombards——” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, why does not the lover marry her?” + </p> + <p> + “Dead.” + </p> + <p> + “What a romance! Such things are nowhere to be heard of but in the Rue des + Lombards.” + </p> + <p> + “But do not take it into your head that a jealous brother murdered the + seducer. The young man died in the most commonplace way of a pleurisy + caught as he came out of the theatre. A head-clerk and penniless, the man + entrapped the daughter in order to marry into the business—A + judgment from heaven, I call it!” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you hear the story?” + </p> + <p> + “From Malaga; the notary is her <i>milord</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “What, Cardot, the son of that little old man in hair-powder, Florentine’s + first friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Just so. Malaga, whose ‘fancy’ is a little tomtit of a fiddler of + eighteen, cannot in conscience make such a boy marry the girl. Besides, + she has no cause to do him an ill turn.—Indeed, Monsieur Cardot + wants a man of thirty at least. Our notary, I feel sure, will be proud to + have a famous man for his son-in-law. So just feel yourself all over.—You + will pay your debts, you will have twelve thousand francs a year, and be a + father without any trouble on your part; what do you say to that to the + good? And, after all, you only marry a very consolable widow. There is an + income of fifty thousand francs in the house, and the value of the + connection, so in due time you may look forward to not less than fifteen + thousand francs a year more for your share, and you will enter a family + holding a fine political position; Cardot is the brother-in-law of old + Camusot, the depute who lived so long with Fanny Beaupre.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Lousteau, “old Camusot married little Daddy Cardot’s eldest + daughter, and they had high times together!” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” Madame Schontz went on, “and Madame Cardot, the notary’s wife, was + a Chiffreville—manufacturers of chemical products, the aristocracy + of these days! Potash, I tell you! Still, this is the unpleasant side of + the matter. You will have a terrible mother-in-law, a woman capable of + killing her daughter if she knew—! This Cardot woman is a bigot; she + has lips like two faded narrow pink ribbons. + </p> + <p> + “A man of the town like you would never pass muster with that woman, who, + in her well-meaning way, will spy out your bachelor life and know every + fact of the past. However, Cardot says he means to exert his paternal + authority. The poor man will be obliged to do the civil to his wife for + some days; a woman made of wood, my dear fellow; Malaga, who has seen her, + calls her a penitential scrubber. Cardot is a man of forty; he will be + mayor of his district, and perhaps be elected deputy. He is prepared to + give in lieu of the hundred thousand francs a nice little house in the Rue + Saint-Lazare, with a forecourt and a garden, which cost him no more than + sixty thousand at the time of the July overthrow; he would sell, and that + would be an opportunity for you to go and come at the house, to see the + daughter, and be civil to the mother.—And it would give you a look + of property in Madame Cardot’s eyes. You would be housed like a prince in + that little mansion. Then, by Camusot’s interest, you may get an + appointment as librarian to some public office where there is no library.—Well, + and then if you invest your money in backing up a newspaper, you will get + ten thousand francs a year on it, you can earn six, your librarianship + will bring you in four.—Can you do better for yourself? + </p> + <p> + “If you were to marry a lamb without spot, it might be a light woman by + the end of two years. What is the damage?—an anticipated dividend! + It is quite the fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Take my word for it, you can do no better than come to dine with Malaga + to-morrow. You will meet your father-in-law; he will know the secret has + been let out—by Malaga, with whom he cannot be angry—and then + you are master of the situation. As to your wife!—Why her misconduct + leaves you as free as a bachelor——” + </p> + <p> + “Your language is as blunt as a cannon ball.” + </p> + <p> + “I love you for your own sake, that is all—and I can reason. Well! + why do you stand there like a wax image of Abd-el-Kader? There is nothing + to meditate over. Marriage is heads or tails—well, you have tossed + heads up.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have my reply to-morrow,” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “I would sooner have it at once; Malaga will write you up to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, yes.” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau spent the evening in writing a long letter to the Marquise, + giving her the reasons which compelled him to marry; his constant poverty, + the torpor of his imagination, his white hairs, his moral and physical + exhaustion—in short, four pages of arguments.—“As to Dinah, I + will send her a circular announcing the marriage,” said he to himself. “As + Bixiou says, I have not my match for knowing how to dock the tail of a + passion.” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau, who at first had been on some ceremony with himself, by next day + had come to the point of dreading lest the marriage should not come off. + He was pressingly civil to the notary. + </p> + <p> + “I knew monsieur your father,” said he, “at Florentine’s, so I may well + know you here, at Mademoiselle Turquet’s. Like father, like son. A very + good fellow and a philosopher, was little Daddy Cardot—excuse me, we + always called him so. At that time, Florine, Florentine, Tullia, Coralie, + and Mariette were the five fingers of your hand, so to speak—it is + fifteen years ago. My follies, as you may suppose, are a thing of the + past.—In those days it was pleasure that ran away with me; now I am + ambitious; but, in our day, to get on at all a man must be free from debt, + have a good income, a wife, and a family. If I pay taxes enough to qualify + me, I may be a deputy yet, like any other man.” + </p> + <p> + Maitre Cardot appreciated this profession of faith. Lousteau had laid + himself out to please and the notary liked him, feeling himself more at + his ease, as may be easily imagined, with a man who had known his father’s + secrets than he would have been with another. On the following day + Lousteau was introduced to the Cardot family as the purchaser of the house + in the Rue Saint-Lazare, and three days later he dined there. + </p> + <p> + Cardot lived in an old house near the Place du Chatelet. In this house + everything was “good.” Economy covered every scrap of gilding with green + gauze; all the furniture wore holland covers. Though it was impossible to + feel a shade of uneasiness as to the wealth of the inhabitants, at the end + of half an hour no one could suppress a yawn. Boredom perched in every + nook; the curtains hung dolefully; the dining-room was like Harpagon’s. + Even if Lousteau had not known all about Malaga, he could have guessed + that the notary’s real life was spent elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + The journalist saw a tall, fair girl with blue eyes, at once shy and + languishing. The elder brother took a fancy to him; he was the fourth + clerk in the office, but strongly attracted by the snares of literary + fame, though destined to succeed his father. The younger sister was twelve + years old. Lousteau, assuming a little Jesuitical air, played the + Monarchist and Churchman for the benefit of the mother, was quite smooth, + deliberate, and complimentary. + </p> + <p> + Within three weeks of their introduction, at his fourth dinner there, + Felicie Cardot, who had been watching Lousteau out of the corner of her + eye, carried him a cup of coffee where he stood in the window recess, and + said in a low voice, with tears in her eyes: + </p> + <p> + “I will devote my whole life, monsieur, to thanking you for your sacrifice + in favor of a poor girl——” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau was touched; there was so much expression in her look, her + accent, her attitude. “She would make a good man happy,” thought he, + pressing her hand in reply. + </p> + <p> + Madame Cardot looked upon her son-in-law as a man with a future before + him; but, above all the fine qualities she ascribed to him, she was most + delighted by his high tone of morals. Etienne, prompted by the wily + notary, had pledged his word that he had no natural children, no tie that + could endanger the happiness of her dear Felicie. + </p> + <p> + “You may perhaps think I go rather too far,” said the bigot to the + journalist; “but in giving such a jewel as my Felicie to any man, one must + think of the future. I am not one of those mothers who want to be rid of + their daughters. Monsieur Cardot hurries matters on, urges forward his + daughter’s marriage; he wishes it over. This is the only point on which we + differ.—Though with a man like you, monsieur, a literary man whose + youth has been preserved by hard work from the moral shipwreck now so + prevalent, we may feel quite safe; still, you would be the first to laugh + at me if I looked for a husband for my daughter with my eyes shut. I know + you are not an innocent, and I should be very sorry for my Felicie if you + were” (this was said in a whisper); “but if you had any <i>liaison</i>—For + instance, monsieur, you have heard of Madame Roguin, the wife of a notary + who, unhappily for our faculty, was sadly notorious. Madame Roguin has, + ever since 1820, been kept by a banker—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, du Tillet,” replied Etienne; but he bit his tongue as he recollected + how rash it was to confess to an acquaintance with du Tillet. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.—Well, monsieur, if you were a mother, would you not quake at + the thought that Madame du Tillet’s fate might be your child’s? At her + age, and <i>nee</i> de Granville! To have as a rival a woman of fifty and + more. Sooner would I see my daughter dead than give her to a man who had + such a connection with a married woman. A grisette, an actress, you take + her and leave her.—There is no danger, in my opinion, from women of + that stamp; love is their trade, they care for no one, one down and + another to come on!—But a woman who has sinned against duty must hug + her sin, her only excuse is constancy, if such a crime can ever have an + excuse. At least, that is the view I hold of a respectable woman’s fall, + and that is what makes it so terrible——” + </p> + <p> + Instead of looking for the meaning of these speeches, Etienne made a jest + of them at Malaga’s, whither he went with his father-in-law elect; for the + notary and the journalist were the best of friends. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau had already given himself the airs of a person of importance; his + life at last was to have a purpose; he was in luck’s way, and in a few + days would be the owner of a delightful little house in the Rue + Saint-Lazare; he was going to be married to a charming woman, he would + have about twenty thousand francs a year, and could give the reins to his + ambition; the young lady loved him, and he would be connected with several + respectable families. In short, he was in full sail on the blue waters of + hope. + </p> + <p> + Madame Cardot had expressed a wish to see the prints for <i>Gil Blas</i>, + one of the illustrated volumes which the French publishers were at that + time bringing out, and Lousteau had taken the first numbers for the lady’s + inspection. The lawyer’s wife had a scheme of her own, she had borrowed + the book merely to return it; she wanted an excuse for walking in on her + future son-in-law quite unexpectedly. The sight of those bachelor rooms, + which her husband had described as charming, would tell her more, she + thought, as to Lousteau’s habits of life than any information she could + pick up. Her sister-in-law, Madame Camusot, who knew nothing of the + fateful secret, was terrified at such a marriage for her niece. Monsieur + Camusot, a Councillor of the Supreme Court, old Camusot’s son by his first + marriage, had given his step-mother, who was Cardot’s sister, a far from + flattering account of the journalist. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau, clever as he was, did not think it strange that the wife of a + rich notary should wish to inspect a volume costing fifteen francs before + deciding on the purchase. Your clever man never condescends to study the + middle-class, who escape his ken by this want of attention; and while he + is making game of them, they are at leisure to throttle him. + </p> + <p> + So one day early in January 1837, Madame Cardot and her daughter took a + hackney coach and went to the Rue des Martyrs to return the parts of <i>Gil + Blas</i> to Felicie’s betrothed, both delighted at the thought of seeing + Lousteau’s rooms. These domiciliary visitations are not unusual in the old + citizen class. The porter at the front gate was not in; but his daughter, + on being informed by the worthy lady that she was in the presence of + Monsieur Lousteau’s future mother-in-law and bride, handed over the key of + the apartment—all the more readily because Madame Cardot placed a + gold piece in her hand. + </p> + <p> + It was by this time about noon, the hour at which the journalist would + return from breakfasting at the Cafe Anglais. As he crossed the open space + between the Church of Notre-Dame de Lorette and the Rue des Martyrs, + Lousteau happened to look at a hired coach that was toiling up the Rue du + Faubourg-Montmartre, and he fancied it was a dream when he saw the face of + Dinah! He stood frozen to the spot when, on reaching his house, he beheld + his Didine at the coach door. + </p> + <p> + “What has brought you here?” he inquired.—He adopted the familiar <i>tu</i>. + The formality of <i>vous</i> was out of the question to a woman he must + get rid of. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my love,” cried she, “have you not read my letters?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I have,” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then?” + </p> + <p> + “You are a father,” replied the country lady. + </p> + <p> + “Faugh!” cried he, disregarding the barbarity of such an exclamation. + “Well,” thought he to himself, “she must be prepared for the blow.” + </p> + <p> + He signed to the coachman to wait, gave his hand to Madame de la Baudraye, + and left the man with the chaise full of trunks, vowing that he would send + away <i>illico</i>, as he said to himself, the woman and her luggage, back + to the place she had come from. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, monsieur,” called out little Pamela. + </p> + <p> + The child had some sense, and felt that three women must not be allowed to + meet in a bachelor’s rooms. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” said Lousteau, dragging Dinah along. + </p> + <p> + Pamela concluded that the lady must be some relation; however, she added: + </p> + <p> + “The key is in the door; your mother-in-law is there.” + </p> + <p> + In his agitation, while Madame de la Baudraye was pouring out a flood of + words, Etienne understood the child to say, “Mother is there,” the only + circumstance that suggested itself as possible, and he went in. + </p> + <p> + Felicie and her mother, who were by this time in the bed-room, crept into + a corner on seeing Etienne enter with a woman. + </p> + <p> + “At last, Etienne, my dearest, I am yours for life!” cried Dinah, throwing + her arms round his neck, and clasping him closely, while he took the key + from the outside of the door. “Life is a perpetual anguish to me in that + house at Anzy. I could bear it no longer; and when the time came for me to + proclaim my happiness—well, I had not the courage.—Here I am, + your wife with your child! And you have not written to me; you have left + me two months without a line.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Dinah, you place me in the greatest difficulty—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you love me?” + </p> + <p> + “How can I do otherwise than love you?—But would you not have been + wiser to remain at Sancerre?—I am in the most abject poverty, and I + fear to drag you into it—” + </p> + <p> + “Your misery will be paradise to me. I only ask to live here, never to go + out—” + </p> + <p> + “Good God! that is all very fine in words, but—” Dinah sat down and + melted into tears as she heard this speech, roughly spoken. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau could not resist this distress. He clasped the Baroness in his + arms and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “Do not cry, Didine!” said he; and, as he uttered the words, he saw in the + mirror the figure of Madame Cardot, looking at him from the further end of + the rooms. “Come, Didine, go with Pamela and get your trunks unloaded,” + said he in her ear. “Go; do not cry; we will be happy!” + </p> + <p> + He led her to the door, and then came back to divert the storm. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Madame Cardot, “I congratulate myself on having resolved + to see for myself the home of the man who was to have been my son-in-law. + If my daughter were to die of it, she should never be the wife of such a + man as you. You must devote yourself to making your Didine happy, + monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + And the virtuous lady walked out, followed by Felicie, who was crying too, + for she had become accustomed to Etienne. The dreadful Madame Cardot got + into her hackney-coach again, staring insolently at the hapless Dinah, in + whose heart the sting still rankled of “that is all very fine in words”; + but who, nevertheless, like every woman in love, believed in the murmured, + “Do not cry, Didine!” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau, who was not lacking in the sort of decision which grows out of + the vicissitudes of a storm-tossed life, reflected thus: + </p> + <p> + “Didine is high-minded; when once she knows of my proposed marriage, she + will sacrifice herself for my future prospects, and I know how I can + manage to let her know.” Delighted at having hit on a trick of which the + success seemed certain, he danced round to a familiar tune: + </p> + <p> + “<i>Larifla, fla, fla!</i>—And Didine once out of the way,” he went + on, talking to himself, “I will treat Maman Cardot to a call and a + novelette: I have seduced her Felicie at Saint-Eustache—Felicie, + guilty through passion, bears in her bosom the pledge of our affection—and + <i>larifla, fla, fla!</i> the father <i>Ergo</i>, the notary, his wife, + and his daughter are caught, nabbed——” + </p> + <p> + And, to her great amazement, Dinah discovered Etienne performing a + prohibited dance. + </p> + <p> + “Your arrival and our happiness have turned my head with joy,” said he, to + explain this crazy mood. + </p> + <p> + “And I had fancied you had ceased to love me!” exclaimed the poor woman, + dropping the handbag she was carrying, and weeping with joy as she sank + into a chair. + </p> + <p> + “Make yourself at home, my darling,” said Etienne, laughing in his sleeve; + “I must write two lines to excuse myself from a bachelor party, for I mean + to devote myself to you. Give your orders; you are at home.” + </p> + <p> + Etienne wrote to Bixiou: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “MY DEAR BOY,—My Baroness has dropped into my arms, and will be + fatal to my marriage unless we perform one of the most familiar + stratagems of the thousand and one comedies at the Gymnase. I rely + on you to come here, like one of Moliere’s old men, to scold your + nephew Leandre for his folly, while the Tenth Muse lies hidden in + my bedroom; you must work on her feelings; strike hard, be brutal, + offensive. I, you understand, shall express my blind devotion, and + shall seem to be deaf, so that you may have to shout at me. + + “Come, if you can, at seven o’clock. + + “Yours, + “E. LOUSTEAU.” + </pre> + <p> + Having sent this letter by a commissionaire to the man who, in all Paris, + most delighted in such practical jokes—in the slang of artists, a <i>charge</i>—Lousteau + made a great show of settling the Muse of Sancerre in his apartment. He + busied himself in arranging the luggage she had brought, and informed her + as to the persons and ways of the house with such perfect good faith, and + a glee which overflowed in kind words and caresses, that Dinah believed + herself the best-beloved woman in the world. These rooms, where everything + bore the stamp of fashion, pleased her far better than her old chateau. + </p> + <p> + Pamela Migeon, the intelligent damsel of fourteen, was questioned by the + journalist as to whether she would like to be waiting-maid to the imposing + Baroness. Pamela, perfectly enchanted, entered on her duties at once, by + going off to order dinner from a restaurant on the boulevard. Dinah was + able to judge of the extreme poverty that lay hidden under the purely + superficial elegance of this bachelor home when she found none of the + necessaries of life. As she took possession of the closets and drawers, + she indulged in the fondest dreams; she would alter Etienne’s habits, she + would make him home-keeping, she would fill his cup of domestic happiness. + </p> + <p> + The novelty of the position hid its disastrous side; Dinah regarded + reciprocated love as the absolution of her sin; she did not yet look + beyond the walls of these rooms. Pamela, whose wits were as sharp as those + of a <i>lorette</i>, went straight to Madame Schontz to beg the loan of + some plate, telling her what had happened to Lousteau. After making the + child welcome to all she had, Madame Schontz went off to her friend + Malaga, that Cardot might be warned of the catastrophe that had befallen + his future son-in-law. + </p> + <p> + The journalist, not in the least uneasy about the crisis as affecting his + marriage, was more and more charming to the lady from the provinces. The + dinner was the occasion of the delightful child’s-play of lovers set at + liberty, and happy to be free. When they had had their coffee, and + Lousteau was sitting in front of the fire, Dinah on his knee, Pamela ran + in with a scared face. + </p> + <p> + “Here is Monsieur Bixiou!” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Go into the bedroom,” said the journalist to his mistress; “I will soon + get rid of him. He is one of my most intimate friends, and I shall have to + explain to him my new start in life.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ho! dinner for two, and a blue velvet bonnet!” cried Bixiou. “I am + off.—Ah! that is what comes of marrying—one must go through + some partings. How rich one feels when one begins to move one’s sticks, + heh?” + </p> + <p> + “Who talks of marrying?” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “What! are you not going to be married, then?” cried Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “No? My word, what next? Are you making a fool of yourself, if you please?—What!—You, + who, by the mercy of Heaven, have come across twenty thousand francs a + year, and a house, and a wife connected with all the first families of the + better middle class—a wife, in short, out of the Rue des Lombards—” + </p> + <p> + “That will do, Bixiou, enough; it is at an end. Be off!” + </p> + <p> + “Be off? I have a friend’s privileges, and I shall take every advantage of + them.—What has come over you?” + </p> + <p> + “What has ‘come over’ me is my lady from Sancerre. She is a mother, and we + are going to live together happily to the end of our days.—You would + have heard it to-morrow, so you may as well be told it now.” + </p> + <p> + “Many chimney-pots are falling on my head, as Arnal says. But if this + woman really loves you, my dear fellow, she will go back to the place she + came from. Did any provincial woman ever yet find her sea-legs in Paris? + She will wound all your vanities. Have you forgotten what a provincial is? + She will bore you as much when she is happy as when she is sad; she will + have as great a talent for escaping grace as a Parisian has in inventing + it. + </p> + <p> + “Lousteau, listen to me. That a passion should lead you to forget to some + extent the times in which we live, is conceivable; but I, my dear fellow, + have not the mythological bandage over my eyes.—Well, then consider + your position. For fifteen years you have been tossing in the literary + world; you are no longer young, you have padded the hoof till your soles + are worn through!—Yes, my boy, you turn your socks under like a + street urchin to hide the holes, so that the legs cover the heels! In + short, the joke is too stale. Your excuses are more familiar than a patent + medicine—” + </p> + <p> + “I may say to you, like the Regent to Cardinal Dubois, ‘That is kicking + enough!’” said Lousteau, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, venerable young man,” replied Bixiou, “the iron has touched the sore + to the quick. You are worn out, aren’t you? Well, then; in the heyday of + youth, under the pressure of penury, what have you done? You are not in + the front rank, and you have not a thousand francs of your own. That is + the sum-total of the situation. Can you, in the decline of your powers, + support a family by your pen, when your wife, if she is an honest woman, + will not have at her command the resources of the woman of the streets, + who can extract her thousand-franc note from the depths where milord keeps + it safe? You are rushing into the lowest depths of the social theatre. + </p> + <p> + “And this is only the financial side. Now, consider the political + position. We are struggling in an essentially <i>bourgeois</i> age, in + which honor, virtue, high-mindedness, talent, learning—genius, in + short, is summed up in paying your way, owing nobody anything, and + conducting your affairs with judgment. Be steady, be respectable, have a + wife, and children, pay your rent and taxes, serve in the National Guard, + and be on the same pattern as all the men of your company—then you + may indulge in the loftiest pretensions, rise to the Ministry!—and + you have the best chances possible, since you are no Montmorency. You were + preparing to fulfil all the conditions insisted on for turning out a + political personage, you are capable of every mean trick that is necessary + in office, even of pretending to be commonplace—you would have acted + it to the life. And just for a woman, who will leave you in the lurch—the + end of every eternal passion—in three, five, or seven years—after + exhausting your last physical and intellectual powers, you turn your back + on the sacred Hearth, on the Rue des Lombards, on a political career, on + thirty thousand francs per annum, on respectability and respect!—Ought + that to be the end of a man who has done with illusions? + </p> + <p> + “If you had kept a pot boiling for some actress who gave you your fun for + it—well; that is what you may call a cabinet matter. But to live + with another man’s wife? It is a draft at sight on disaster; it is bolting + the bitter pills of vice with none of the gilding.” + </p> + <p> + “That will do. One word answers it all; I love Madame de la Baudraye, and + prefer her to every fortune, to every position the world can offer.—I + may have been carried away by a gust of ambition, but everything must give + way to the joy of being a father.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha! you have a fancy for paternity? But, wretched man, we are the + fathers only of our legitimate children. What is a brat that does not bear + your name? The last chapter of the romance.—Your child will be taken + from you! We have seen that story in twenty plays these ten years past. + </p> + <p> + “Society, my dear boy, will drop upon you sooner or later. Read <i>Adolphe</i> + once more.—Dear me! I fancy I can see you when you and she are used + to each other;—I see you dejected, hang-dog, bereft of position and + fortune, and fighting like the shareholders of a bogus company when they + are tricked by a director!—Your director is happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Say no more, Bixiou.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have only just begun,” said Bixiou. “Listen, my dear boy. Marriage + has been out of favor for some time past; but, apart from the advantages + it offers in being the only recognized way of certifying heredity, as it + affords a good-looking young man, though penniless, the opportunity of + making his fortune in two months, it survives in spite of disadvantages. + And there is not the man living who would not repent, sooner or later, of + having, by his own fault, lost the chance of marrying thirty thousand + francs a year.” + </p> + <p> + “You won’t understand me,” cried Lousteau, in a voice of exasperation. “Go + away—she is there——” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon; why did you not tell me sooner?—You are of age, + and so is she,” he added in a lower voice, but loud enough to be heard by + Dinah. “She will make you repent bitterly of your happiness!——” + </p> + <p> + “If it is a folly, I intend to commit it.—Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + “A man gone overboard!” cried Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + “Devil take those friends who think they have a right to preach to you,” + said Lousteau, opening the door of the bedroom, where he found Madame de + la Baudraye sunk in an armchair and dabbing her eyes with an embroidered + handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why did I come here?” sobbed she. “Good Heavens, why indeed?—Etienne, + I am not so provincial as you think me.—You are making a fool of + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Darling angel,” replied Lousteau, taking Dinah in his arms, lifting her + from her chair, and dragging her half dead into the drawing-room, “we have + both pledged our future, it is sacrifice for sacrifice. While I was loving + you at Sancerre, they were engaging me to be married here, but I refused.—Oh! + I was extremely distressed——” + </p> + <p> + “I am going,” cried Dinah, starting wildly to her feet and turning to the + door. + </p> + <p> + “You will stay here, my Didine. All is at an end. And is this fortune so + lightly earned after all? Must I not marry a gawky, tow-haired creature, + with a red nose, the daughter of a notary, and saddle myself with a + stepmother who could give Madame de Piedefer points on the score of + bigotry—” + </p> + <p> + Pamela flew in, and whispered in Lousteau’s ear: + </p> + <p> + “Madame Schontz!” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau rose, leaving Dinah on the sofa, and went out. + </p> + <p> + “It is all over with you, my dear,” said the woman. “Cardot does not mean + to quarrel with his wife for the sake of a son-in-law. The lady made a + scene—something like a scene, I can tell you! So, to conclude, the + head-clerk, who was the late head-clerk’s deputy for two years, agrees to + take the girl with the business.” + </p> + <p> + “Mean wretch!” exclaimed Lousteau. “What! in two hours he has made up his + mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, that is simple enough. The rascal, who knew all the dead man’s + little secrets, guessed what a fix his master was in from overhearing a + few words of the squabble with Madame Cardot. The notary relies on your + honor and good feeling, for the affair is settled. The clerk, whose + conduct has been admirable, went so far as to attend mass! A finished + hypocrite, I say—just suits the mamma. You and Cardot will still be + friends. He is to be a director in an immense financial concern, and he + may be of use to you.—So you have been waked from a sweet dream.” + </p> + <p> + “I have lost a fortune, a wife, and—” + </p> + <p> + “And a mistress,” said Madame Schontz, smiling. “Here you are, more than + married; you will be insufferable, you will be always wanting to get home, + there will be nothing loose about you, neither your clothes nor your + habits. And, after all, my Arthur does things in style. I will be faithful + to him and cut Malaga’s acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “Let me peep at her through the door—your Sancerre Muse,” she went + on. “Is there no finer bird than that to be found in the desert?” she + exclaimed. “You are cheated! She is dignified, lean, lachrymose; she only + needs Lady Dudley’s turban!” + </p> + <p> + “What is it now?” asked Madame de la Baudraye, who had heard the rustle of + a silk dress and the murmur of a woman’s voice. + </p> + <p> + “It is, my darling, that we are now indissolubly united.—I have just + had an answer to the letter you saw me write, which was to break off my + marriage——” + </p> + <p> + “So that was the party which you gave up?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I will be more than your wife—I am your slave, I give you my + life,” said the poor deluded creature. “I did not believe I could love you + more than I did!—Now I shall not be a mere incident, but your whole + life?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my beautiful, my generous Didine.” + </p> + <p> + “Swear to me,” said she, “that only death shall divide us.” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau was ready to sweeten his vows with the most fascinating + prettinesses. And this was why. Between the door of the apartment where he + had taken the lorette’s farewell kiss, and that of the drawing-room, where + the Muse was reclining, bewildered by such a succession of shocks, + Lousteau had remembered little De la Baudraye’s precarious health, his + fine fortune, and Bianchon’s remark about Dinah, “She will be a rich + widow!” and he said to himself, “I would a hundred times rather have + Madame de la Baudraye for a wife than Felicie!” + </p> + <p> + His plan of action was quickly decided on; he determined to play the farce + of passion once more, and to perfection. His mean self-interestedness and + his false vehemence of passion had disastrous results. Madame de la + Baudraye, when she set out from Sancerre for Paris, had intended to live + in rooms of her own quite near to Lousteau; but the proofs of devotion her + lover had given her by giving up such brilliant prospects, and yet more + the perfect happiness of the first days of their illicit union, kept her + from mentioning such a parting. The second day was to be—and indeed + was—a high festival, in which such a suggestion proposed to “her + angel” would have been a discordant note. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau, on his part, anxious to make Dinah feel herself dependent on + him, kept her in a state of constant intoxication by incessant amusement. + These circumstances hindered two persons so clever as these were from + avoiding the slough into which they fell—that of a life in common, a + piece of folly of which, unfortunately, many instances may be seen in + Paris in literary circles. + </p> + <p> + And thus was the whole programme played out of a provincial amour, so + satirically described by Lousteau to Madame de la Baudraye—a fact + which neither he nor she remembered. Passion is born a deaf-mute. + </p> + <p> + This winter in Paris was to Madame de la Baudraye all that the month of + October had been at Sancerre. Etienne, to initiate “his wife” into Paris + life, varied this honeymoon by evenings at the play, where Dinah would + only go to the stage box. At first Madame de la Baudraye preserved some + remnants of her countrified modesty; she was afraid of being seen; she hid + her happiness. She would say: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Clagny or Monsieur Gravier may have followed me to Paris.” + She was afraid of Sancerre even in Paris. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau, who was excessively vain, educated Dinah, took her to the best + dressmakers, and pointed out to her the most fashionable women, advising + her to take them as models for imitation. And Madame de la Baudraye’s + provincial appearance was soon a thing of the past. Lousteau, when his + friends met him, was congratulated on his conquest. + </p> + <p> + All through that season Etienne wrote little and got very much into debt, + though Dinah, who was proud, bought all her clothes out of her savings, + and fancied she had not been the smallest expense to her beloved. By the + end of three months Dinah was acclimatized; she had reveled in the music + at the Italian opera; she knew the pieces “on” at all theatres, and the + actors and jests of the day; she had become inured to this life of + perpetual excitement, this rapid torrent in which everything is forgotten. + She no longer craned her neck or stood with her nose in the air, like an + image of Amazement, at the constant surprises that Paris has for a + stranger. She had learned to breathe that witty, vitalizing, teeming + atmosphere where clever people feel themselves in their element, and which + they can no longer bear to quit. + </p> + <p> + One morning, as she read the papers, for Lousteau had them all, two lines + carried her back to Sancerre and the past, two lines that seemed not + unfamiliar—as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Baron de Clagny, Public Prosecutor to the Criminal Court at + Sancerre, has been appointed Deputy Public Prosecutor to the Supreme Court + in Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “How well that worthy lawyer loves you!” said the journalist, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Poor man!” said she. “What did I tell you? He is following me.” + </p> + <p> + Etienne and Dinah were just then at the most dazzling and fervid stage of + a passion when each is perfectly accustomed to the other, and yet love has + not lost its freshness and relish. The lovers know each other well, but + all is not yet understood; they have not been a second time to the same + secret haunts of the soul; they have not studied each other till they + know, as they must later, the very thought, word, and gesture that + responds to every event, the greatest and the smallest. Enchantment + reigns; there are no collisions, no differences of opinion, no cold looks. + Their two souls are always on the same side. And Dinah would speak the + magical words, emphasized by the yet more magical expression and looks + which every woman can use under such circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “When you cease to love me, kill me.—If you should cease to love me, + I believe I could kill you first and myself after.” + </p> + <p> + To this sweet exaggeration, Lousteau would reply: + </p> + <p> + “All I ask of God is to see you as constant as I shall be. It is you who + will desert me!” + </p> + <p> + “My love is supreme.” + </p> + <p> + “Supreme,” echoed Lousteau. “Come, now? Suppose I am dragged away to a + bachelor party, and find there one of my former mistresses, and she makes + fun of me; I, out of vanity, behave as if I were free, and do not come in + here till next morning—would you still love me?” + </p> + <p> + “A woman is only sure of being loved when she is preferred; and if you + came back to me, if—Oh! you make me understand what the happiness + would be of forgiving the man I adore.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I am truly loved for the first time in my life!” cried + Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “At last you understand that!” said she. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau proposed that they should each write a letter setting forth the + reasons which would compel them to end by suicide. Once in possession of + such a document, each might kill the other without danger in case of + infidelity. But in spite of mutual promises, neither wrote the letter. + </p> + <p> + The journalist, happy for the moment, promised himself that he would + deceive Dinah when he should be tired of her, and would sacrifice + everything to the requirements of that deception. To him Madame de la + Baudraye was a fortune in herself. At the same time, he felt the yoke. + </p> + <p> + Dinah, by consenting to this union, showed a generous mind and the power + derived from self-respect. In this absolute intimacy, in which both lovers + put off their masks, the young woman never abdicated her modesty, her + masculine rectitude, and the strength peculiar to ambitious souls, which + formed the basis of her character. Lousteau involuntarily held her in high + esteem. As a Parisian, Dinah was superior to the most fascinating + courtesan; she could be as amusing and as witty as Malaga; but her + extensive information, her habits of mind, her vast reading enabled her to + generalize her wit, while the Florines and the Schontzes exerted theirs + over a very narrow circle. + </p> + <p> + “There is in Dinah,” said Etienne to Bixiou, “the stuff to make both a + Ninon and a De Stael.” + </p> + <p> + “A woman who combines an encyclopaedia and a seraglio is very dangerous,” + replied the mocking spirit. + </p> + <p> + When the expected infant became a visible fact, Madame de la Baudraye + would be seen no more; but before shutting herself up, never to go out + unless into the country, she was bent on being present at the first + performance of a play by Nathan. This literary solemnity occupied the + minds of the two thousand persons who regard themselves as constituting + “all Paris.” Dinah, who had never been at a first night’s performance, was + very full of natural curiosity. She had by this time arrived at such a + pitch of affection for Lousteau that she gloried in her misconduct; she + exerted a sort of savage strength to defy the world; she was determined to + look it in the face without turning her head aside. + </p> + <p> + She dressed herself to perfection, in a style suited to her delicate looks + and the sickly whiteness of her face. Her pallid complexion gave her an + expression of refinement, and her black hair in smooth bands enhanced her + pallor. Her brilliant gray eyes looked finer than ever, set in dark rings. + But a terribly distressing incident awaited her. By a very simple chance, + the box given to the journalist, on the first tier, was next to that which + Anna Grossetete had taken. The two intimate friends did not even bow; + neither chose to acknowledge the other. At the end of the first act + Lousteau left his seat, abandoning Dinah to the fire of eyes, the glare of + opera-glasses; while the Baronne de Fontaine and the Comtesse Marie de + Vandenesse, who accompanied her, received some of the most distinguished + men of fashion. + </p> + <p> + Dinah’s solitude was all the more distressing because she had not the art + of putting a good face to the matter by examining the company through her + opera-glass. In vain did she try to assume a dignified and thoughtful + attitude, and fix her eyes on vacancy; she was overpoweringly conscious of + being the object of general attention; she could not disguise her + discomfort, and lapsed a little into provincialism, displaying her + handkerchief and making involuntary movements of which she had almost + cured herself. At last, between the second and third acts, a man had + himself admitted to Dinah’s box! It was Monsieur de Clagny. + </p> + <p> + “I am happy to see you, to tell you how much I am pleased by your + promotion,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Madame, for whom should I come to Paris——?” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said she. “Have I anything to do with your appointment?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything,” said he. “Since you left Sancerre, it had become intolerable + to me; I was dying—” + </p> + <p> + “Your sincere friendship does me good,” replied she, holding out her hand. + “I am in a position to make much of my true friends; I now know their + value.—I feared I must have lost your esteem, but the proof you have + given me by this visit touches me more deeply than your ten years’ + attachment.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an object of curiosity to the whole house,” said the lawyer. “Oh! + my dear, is this a part for you to be playing? Could you not be happy and + yet remain honored?—I have just heard that you are Monsieur Etienne + Lousteau’s mistress, that you live together as man and wife!—You + have broken for ever with society; even if you should some day marry your + lover, the time will come when you will feel the want of the + respectability you now despise. Ought you not to be in a home of your own + with your mother, who loves you well enough to protect you with her aegis?—Appearances + at least would be saved.” + </p> + <p> + “I am in the wrong to have come here,” replied she, “that is all.—I + have bid farewell to all the advantages which the world confers on women + who know how to reconcile happiness and the proprieties. My abnegation is + so complete that I only wish I could clear a vast space about me to make a + desert of my love, full of God, of <i>him</i>, and of myself.—We + have made too many sacrifices on both sides not to be united—united + by disgrace if you will, but indissolubly one. I am happy; so happy that I + can love freely, my friend, and confide in you more than of old—for + I need a friend.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer was magnanimous, nay, truly great. To this declaration, in + which Dinah’s soul thrilled, he replied in heartrending tones: + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to go to see you, to be sure that you were loved: I shall now be + easy and no longer alarmed as to your future.—But will your lover + appreciate the magnitude of your sacrifice; is there any gratitude in his + affection?” + </p> + <p> + “Come to the Rue des Martyrs and you will see!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will call,” he replied. “I have already passed your door without + daring to inquire for you.—You do not yet know the literary world. + There are glorious exceptions, no doubt; but these men of letters drag + terrible evils in their train; among these I account publicity as one of + the greatest, for it blights everything. A woman may commit herself with—” + </p> + <p> + “With a Public Prosecutor?” the Baronne put in with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well!—and then after a rupture there is still something to fall + back on; the world has known nothing. But with a more or less famous man + the public is thoroughly informed. Why look there! What an example you + have close at hand! You are sitting back to back with the Comtesse Marie + Vandenesse, who was within an ace of committing the utmost folly for a + more celebrated man than Lousteau—for Nathan—and now they do + not even recognize each other. After going to the very edge of the + precipice, the Countess was saved, no one knows how; she neither left her + husband nor her house; but as a famous man was scorned, she was the talk + of the town for a whole winter. But her husband’s great fortune, great + name, and high position, but for the admirable management of that true + statesman—whose conduct to his wife, they say, was perfect—she + would have been ruined; in her position no other woman would have remained + respected as she is.” + </p> + <p> + “And how was Sancerre when you came away?” asked Madame de la Baudraye, to + change the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de la Baudraye announced that your expected confinement after so + many years made it necessary that it should take place in Paris, and that + he had insisted on your going to be attended by the first physicians,” + replied Monsieur de Clagny, guessing what it was that Dinah most wanted to + know. “And so, in spite of the commotion to which your departure gave + rise, you still have your legal status.” + </p> + <p> + “Why!” she exclaimed, “can Monsieur de la Baudraye still hope——” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband, madame, did what he always does—made a little + calculation.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer left the box when the journalist returned, bowing with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “You are a greater hit than the piece,” said Etienne to Dinah. + </p> + <p> + This brief triumph brought greater happiness to the poor woman than she + had ever known in the whole of her provincial existence; still, as they + left the theatre she was very grave. + </p> + <p> + “What ails you, my Didine?” asked Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “I am wondering how a woman succeeds in conquering the world?” + </p> + <p> + “There are two ways. One is by being Madame de Stael, the other is by + having two hundred thousand francs a year.” + </p> + <p> + “Society,” said she, “asserts its hold on us by appealing to our vanity, + our love of appearances.—Pooh! We will be philosophers!” + </p> + <p> + That evening was the last gleam of the delusive well-being in which Madame + de la Baudraye had lived since coming to Paris. Three days later she + observed a cloud on Lousteau’s brow as he walked round the little + garden-plot smoking a cigar. This woman, who had acquired from her husband + the habit and the pleasure of never owing anybody a sou, was informed that + the household was penniless, with two quarters’ rent owing, and on the + eve, in fact, of an execution. + </p> + <p> + This reality of Paris life pierced Dinah’s heart like a thorn; she + repented of having tempted Etienne into the extravagances of love. It is + so difficult to pass from pleasure to work, that happiness has wrecked + more poems than sorrows ever helped to flow in sparkling jets. Dinah, + happy in seeing Etienne taking his ease, smoking a cigar after breakfast, + his face beaming as he basked like a lizard in the sunshine, could not + summon up courage enough to make herself the bum-bailiff of a magazine. + </p> + <p> + It struck her that through the worthy Migeon, Pamela’s father, she might + pawn the few jewels she possessed, on which her “uncle,” for she was + learning to talk the slang of the town, advanced her nine hundred francs. + She kept three hundred for her baby-clothes and the expenses of her + illness, and joyfully presented the sum due to Lousteau, who was + ploughing, furrow by furrow, or, if you will, line by line, through a + novel for a periodical. + </p> + <p> + “Dearest heart,” said she, “finish your novel without making any sacrifice + to necessity; polish the style, work up the subject.—I have played + the fine lady too long; I am going to be the housewife and attend to + business.” + </p> + <p> + For the last four months Etienne had been taking Dinah to the Cafe Riche + to dine every day, a corner being always kept for them. The countrywoman + was in dismay at being told that five hundred francs were owing for the + last fortnight. + </p> + <p> + “What! we have been drinking wine at six francs a bottle! A sole <i>Normande</i> + costs five francs!—and twenty centimes for a roll?” she exclaimed, + as she looked through the bill Lousteau showed her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it makes very little difference to us whether we are robbed at a + restaurant or by a cook,” said Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + “Henceforth, for the cost of your dinner, you shall live like a prince.” + </p> + <p> + Having induced the landlord to let her have a kitchen and two servants’ + rooms, Madame de la Baudraye wrote a few lines to her mother, begging her + to send her some linen and a loan of a thousand francs. She received two + trunks full of linen, some plate, and two thousand francs, sent by the + hand of an honest and pious cook recommended her by her mother. + </p> + <p> + Ten days after the evening at the theatre when they had met, Monsieur de + Clagny came to call at four o’clock, after coming out of court, and found + Madame de la Baudraye making a little cap. The sight of this proud and + ambitious woman, whose mind was so accomplished, and who had queened it so + well at the Chateau d’Anzy, now condescending to household cares and + sewing for the coming infant, moved the poor lawyer, who had just left the + bench. And as he saw the pricks on one of the taper fingers he had so + often kissed, he understood that Madame de la Baudraye was not merely + playing at this maternal task. + </p> + <p> + In the course of this first interview the magistrate saw to the depths of + Dinah’s soul. This perspicacity in a man so much in love was a superhuman + effort. He saw that Didine meant to be the journalist’s guardian spirit + and lead him into a nobler road; she had seen that the difficulties of his + practical life were due to some moral defects. Between two beings united + by love—in one so genuine, and in the other so well feigned—more + than one confidence had been exchanged in the course of four months. + Notwithstanding the care with which Etienne wrapped up his true self, a + word now and then had not failed to enlighten Dinah as to the previous + life of a man whose talents were so hampered by poverty, so perverted by + bad examples, so thwarted by obstacles beyond his courage to surmount. “He + will be a greater man if life is easy to him,” said she to herself. And + she strove to make him happy, to give him the sense of a sheltered home by + dint of such economy and method as are familiar to provincial folks. Thus + Dinah became a housekeeper, as she had become a poet, by the soaring of + her soul towards the heights. + </p> + <p> + “His happiness will be my absolution.” + </p> + <p> + These words, wrung from Madame de la Baudraye by her friend the lawyer, + accounted for the existing state of things. The publicity of his triumph, + flaunted by Etienne on the evening of the first performance, had very + plainly shown the lawyer what Lousteau’s purpose was. To Etienne, Madame + de la Baudraye was, to use his own phrase, “a fine feather in his cap.” + Far from preferring the joys of a shy and mysterious passion, of hiding + such exquisite happiness from the eyes of the world, he found a vulgar + satisfaction in displaying the first woman of respectability who had ever + honored him with her affection. + </p> + <p> + The Judge, however, was for some time deceived by the attentions which any + man would lavish on any woman in Madame de la Baudraye’s situation, and + Lousteau made them doubly charming by the ingratiating ways characteristic + of men whose manners are naturally attractive. There are, in fact, men who + have something of the monkey in them by nature, and to whom the assumption + of the most engaging forms of sentiment is so easy that the actor is not + detected; and Lousteau’s natural gifts had been fully developed on the + stage on which he had hitherto figured. + </p> + <p> + Between the months of April and July, when Dinah expected her confinement, + she discovered why it was that Lousteau had not triumphed over poverty; he + was idle and had no power of will. The brain, to be sure, must obey its + own laws; it recognizes neither the exigencies of life nor the voice of + honor; a man cannot write a great book because a woman is dying, or to pay + a discreditable debt, or to bring up a family; at the same time, there is + no great talent without a strong will. These twin forces are requisite for + the erection of the vast edifice of personal glory. A distinguished genius + keeps his brain in a productive condition, just as the knights of old kept + their weapons always ready for battle. They conquer indolence, they deny + themselves enervating pleasures, or indulge only to a fixed limit + proportioned to their powers. This explains the life of such men as Walter + Scott, Cuvier, Voltaire, Newton, Buffon, Bayle, Bossuet, Leibnitz, Lopez + de Vega, Calderon, Boccacio, Aretino, Aristotle—in short, every man + who delighted, governed, or led his contemporaries. + </p> + <p> + A man may and ought to pride himself more on his will than on his talent. + Though Talent has its germ in a cultivated gift, Will means the incessant + conquest of his instincts, of proclivities subdued and mortified, and + difficulties of every kind heroically defeated. The abuse of smoking + encouraged Lousteau’s indolence. Tobacco, which can lull grief, inevitably + numbs a man’s energy. + </p> + <p> + Then, while the cigar deteriorated him physically, criticism as a + profession morally stultified a man so easily tempted by pleasure. + Criticism is as fatal to the critic as seeing two sides to a question is + to a pleader. In these professions the judgment is undermined, the mind + loses its lucid rectitude. The writer lives by taking sides. Thus, we may + distinguish two kinds of criticism, as in painting we may distinguish art + from practical dexterity. Criticism, after the pattern of most + contemporary leader-writers, is the expression of judgments formed at + random in a more or less witty way, just as an advocate pleads in court on + the most contradictory briefs. The newspaper critic always finds a subject + to work up in the book he is discussing. Done after this fashion, the + business is well adapted to indolent brains, to men devoid of the sublime + faculty of imagination, or, possessed of it indeed, but lacking courage to + cultivate it. Every play, every book comes to their pen as a subject, + making no demand on their imagination, and of which they simply write a + report, seriously or in irony, according to the mood of the moment. As to + an opinion, whatever it may be, French wit can always justify it, being + admirably ready to defend either side of any case. And conscience counts + for so little, these <i>bravi</i> have so little value for their own + words, that they will loudly praise in the greenroom the work they tear to + tatters in print. + </p> + <p> + Nay, men have been known to transfer their services from one paper to + another without being at the pains to consider that the opinions of the + new sheet must be diametrically antagonistic to those of the old. Madame + de la Baudraye could smile to see Lousteau with one article on the + Legitimist side and one on the side of the new dynasty, both on the same + occasion. She admired the maxim he preached: + </p> + <p> + “We are the attorneys of public opinion.” + </p> + <p> + The other kind of criticism is a science. It necessitates a thorough + comprehension of each work, a lucid insight into the tendencies of the + age, the adoption of a system, and faith in fixed principles—that is + to say, a scheme of jurisprudence, a summing-up, and a verdict. The critic + is then a magistrate of ideas, the censor of his time; he fulfils a sacred + function; while in the former case he is but an acrobat who turns + somersaults for a living so long as he had a leg to stand on. Between + Claude Vignon and Lousteau lay the gulf that divides mere dexterity from + art. + </p> + <p> + Dinah, whose mind was soon freed from rust, and whose intellect was by no + means narrow, had ere long taken literary measure of her idol. She saw + Lousteau working up to the last minute under the most discreditable + compulsion, and scamping his work, as painters say of a picture from which + sound technique is absent; but she would excuse him by saying, “He is a + poet!” so anxious was she to justify him in her own eyes. When she thus + guessed the secret of many a writer’s existence, she also guessed that + Lousteau’s pen could never be trusted to as a resource. + </p> + <p> + Then her love for him led her to take a step she would never had thought + of for her own sake. Through her mother she tried to negotiate with her + husband for an allowance, but without Etienne’s knowledge; for, as she + thought, it would be an offence to his delicate feelings, which must be + considered. A few days before the end of July, Dinah crumbled up in her + wrath the letter from her mother containing Monsieur de la Baudraye’s + ultimatum: + </p> + <p> + “Madame de la Baudraye cannot need an allowance in Paris when she can live + in perfect luxury at her Chateau of Anzy: she may return.” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau picked up this letter and read it. + </p> + <p> + “I will avenge you!” said he to Dinah in the ominous tone that delights a + woman when her antipathies are flattered. + </p> + <p> + Five days after this Bianchon and Duriau, the famous ladies’ doctor, were + engaged at Lousteau’s; for he, ever since little La Baudraye’s reply, had + been making a great display of his joy and importance over the advent of + the infant. Monsieur de Clagny and Madame Piedefer—sent for in all + haste were to be the godparents, for the cautious magistrate feared lest + Lousteau should commit some compromising blunder. Madame de la Baudraye + gave birth to a boy that might have filled a queen with envy who hoped for + an heir-presumptive. + </p> + <p> + Bianchon and Monsieur de Clagny went off to register the child at the + Mayor’s office as the son of Monsieur and Madame de la Baudraye, unknown + to Etienne, who, on his part, rushed off to a printer’s to have this + circular set up: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>“Madame la Baronne de la Baudraye is happily delivered of a son.</i> + + <i>“Monsieur Etienne Lousteau has the pleasure of informing you of + the fact</i>. + + <i>“The mother and child are doing well.”</i> +</pre> + <p> + Lousteau had already sent out sixty of these announcements when Monsieur + de Clagny, on coming to make inquiries, happened to see the list of + persons at Sancerre to whom Lousteau proposed to send this amazing notice, + written below the names of the persons in Paris to whom it was already + gone. The lawyer confiscated the list and the remainder of the circulars, + showed them to Madame Piedefer, begging her on no account to allow + Lousteau to carry on this atrocious jest, and jumped into a cab. The + devoted friend then ordered from the same printer another announcement in + the following words: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>“Madame la Baronne de la Baudraye is happily delivered of a son. + + “Monsieur le Baron de la Baudraye has the honor of informing you + of the fact. + + “Mother and child are doing well.”</i> +</pre> + <p> + After seeing the proofs destroyed, the form of type, everything that could + bear witness to the existence of the former document, Monsieur de Clagny + set to work to intercept those that had been sent; in many cases he + changed them at the porter’s lodge, he got back thirty into his own hands, + and at last, after three days of hard work, only one of the original notes + existed, that, namely sent to Nathan. + </p> + <p> + Five times had the lawyer called on the great man without finding him. By + the time Monsieur de Clagny was admitted, after requesting an interview, + the story of the announcement was known to all Paris. Some persons + regarded it as one of those waggish calumnies, a sort of stab to which + every reputation, even the most ephemeral, is exposed; others said they + had read the paper and returned it to some friend of the La Baudraye + family; a great many declaimed against the immorality of journalists; in + short, this last remaining specimen was regarded as a curiosity. Florine, + with whom Nathan was living, had shown it about, stamped in the post as + paid, and addressed in Etienne’s hand. So, as soon as the judge spoke of + the announcement, Nathan began to smile. + </p> + <p> + “Give up that monument of recklessness and folly?” cried he. “That + autograph is one of those weapons which an athlete in the circus cannot + afford to lay down. That note proves that Lousteau has no heart, no taste, + no dignity; that he knows nothing of the world nor of public morality; + that he insults himself when he can find no one else to insult.—None + but the son of a provincial citizen imported from Sancerre to become a + poet, but who is only the <i>bravo</i> of some contemptible magazine, + could ever have sent out such a circular letter, as you must allow, + monsieur. This is a document indispensable to the archives of the age.—To-day + Lousteau flatters me, to-morrow he may ask for my head.—Excuse me, I + forgot you were a judge. + </p> + <p> + “I have gone through a passion for a lady, a great lady, as far superior + to Madame de la Baudraye as your fine feeling, monsieur, is superior to + Lousteau’s vulgar retaliation; but I would have died rather than utter her + name. A few months of her airs and graces cost me a hundred thousand + francs and my prospects for life; but I do not think the price too high!—And + I have never murmured!—If a woman betrays the secret of her passion, + it is the supreme offering of her love, but a man!—He must be a + Lousteau! + </p> + <p> + “No, I would not give up that paper for a thousand crowns.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the lawyer at last, after an eloquent battle lasting half + an hour, “I have called on fifteen or sixteen men of letters about this + affair, and can it be that you are the only one immovable by an appeal of + honor? It is not for Etienne Lousteau that I plead, but for a woman and + child, both equally ignorant of the damage done to their fortune, their + prospects, and their honor.—Who knows, monsieur, whether you might + not some day be compelled to plead for some favor of justice for a friend, + for some person whose honor was dearer to you than your own.—It + might be remembered against you that you had been ruthless.—Can such + a man as you are hesitate?” added Monsieur de Clagny. + </p> + <p> + “I only wished you to understand the extent of the sacrifice,” replied + Nathan, giving up the letter, as he reflected on the judge’s influence and + accepted this implied bargain. + </p> + <p> + When the journalist’s stupid jest had been counteracted, Monsieur de + Clagny went to give him a rating in the presence of Madame Piedefer; but + he found Lousteau fuming with irritation. + </p> + <p> + “What I did monsieur, I did with a purpose!” replied Etienne. “Monsieur de + la Baudraye has sixty thousand francs a year and refuses to make his wife + an allowance; I wished to make him feel that the child is in my power.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur, I quite suspected it,” replied the lawyer. “For that + reason I readily agreed to be little Polydore’s godfather, and he is + registered as the son of the Baron and Baronne de la Baudraye; if you have + the feelings of a father, you ought to rejoice in knowing that the child + is heir to one of the finest entailed estates in France.” + </p> + <p> + “And pray, sir, is the mother to die of hunger?” + </p> + <p> + “Be quite easy,” said the lawyer bitterly, having dragged from Lousteau + the expression of feeling he had so long been expecting. “I will undertake + to transact the matter with Monsieur de la Baudraye.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Clagny left the house with a chill at his heart. + </p> + <p> + Dinah, his idol, was loved for her money. Would she not, when too late, + have her eyes opened? + </p> + <p> + “Poor woman!” said the lawyer, as he walked away. And this justice we will + do him—for to whom should justice be done unless to a Judge?—he + loved Dinah too sincerely to regard her degradation as a means of triumph + one day; he was all pity and devotion; he really loved her. + </p> + <p> + The care and nursing of the infant, its cries, the quiet needed for the + mother during the first few days, and the ubiquity of Madame Piedefer, + were so entirely adverse to literary labors, that Lousteau moved up to the + three rooms taken on the first floor for the old bigot. The journalist, + obliged to go to the first performances without Dinah, and living apart + from her, found an indescribable charm in the use of his liberty. More + than once he submitted to be taken by the arm and dragged off to some + jollification; more than once he found himself at the house of a friend’s + mistress in the heart of bohemia. He again saw women brilliantly young and + splendidly dressed, in whom economy seemed treason to their youth and + power. Dinah, in spite of her striking beauty, after nursing her baby for + three months, could not stand comparison with these perishable blossoms, + so soon faded, but so showy as long as they live rooted in opulence. + </p> + <p> + Home life had, nevertheless, a strong attraction for Etienne. In three + months the mother and daughter, with the help of the cook from Sancerre + and of little Pamela, had given the apartment a quite changed appearance. + The journalist found his breakfast and his dinner served with a sort of + luxury. Dinah, handsome and nicely dressed, was careful to anticipate her + dear Etienne’s wishes, and he felt himself the king of his home, where + everything, even the baby, was subject to his selfishness. Dinah’s + affection was to be seen in every trifle, Lousteau could not possibly + cease the entrancing deceptions of his unreal passion. + </p> + <p> + Dinah, meanwhile, was aware of a source of ruin, both to her love and to + the household, in the kind of life into which Lousteau had allowed himself + to drift. At the end of ten months she weaned her baby, installed her + mother in the upstairs rooms, and restored the family intimacy which + indissolubly links a man and woman when the woman is loving and clever. + One of the most striking circumstances in Benjamin Constant’s novel, one + of the explanations of Ellenore’s desertion, is the want of daily—or, + if you will, of nightly—intercourse between her and Adolphe. Each of + the lovers has a separate home; they have both submitted to the world and + saved appearances. Ellenore, repeatedly left to herself, is compelled to + vast labors of affection to expel the thoughts of release which captivate + Adolphe when absent. The constant exchange of glances and thoughts in + domestic life gives a woman such power that a man needs stronger reasons + for desertion than she will ever give him so long as she loves him. + </p> + <p> + This was an entirely new phase both to Etienne and to Dinah. Dinah + intended to be indispensable; she wanted to infuse fresh energy into this + man, whose weakness smiled upon her, for she thought it a security. She + found him subjects, sketched the treatment, and at a pinch, would write + whole chapters. She revived the vitality of this dying talent by + transfusing fresh blood into his veins; she supplied him with ideas and + opinions. In short, she produced two books which were a success. More than + once she saved Lousteau’s self-esteem by dictating, correcting, or + finishing his articles when he was in despair at his own lack of ideas. + The secret of this collaboration was strictly preserved; Madame Piedefer + knew nothing of it. + </p> + <p> + This mental galvanism was rewarded by improved pay, enabling them to live + comfortably till the end of 1838. Lousteau became used to seeing Dinah do + his work, and he paid her—as the French people say in their vigorous + lingo—in “monkey money,” nothing for her pains. This expenditure in + self-sacrifice becomes a treasure which generous souls prize, and the more + she gave the more she loved Lousteau; the time soon came when Dinah felt + that it would be too bitter a grief ever to give him up. + </p> + <p> + But then another child was coming, and this year was a terrible trial. In + spite of the precautions of the two women, Etienne contracted debts; he + worked himself to death to pay them off while Dinah was laid up; and, + knowing him as she did, she thought him heroic. But after this effort, + appalled at having two women, two children, and two maids on his hands, he + was incapable of the struggle to maintain a family by his pen when he had + failed to maintain even himself. So he let things take their chance. Then + the ruthless speculator exaggerated the farce of love-making at home to + secure greater liberty abroad. + </p> + <p> + Dinah proudly endured the burden of life without support. The one idea, + “He loves me!” gave her superhuman strength. She worked as hard as the + most energetic spirits of our time. At the risk of her beauty and health, + Didine was to Lousteau what Mademoiselle Delachaux was to Gardane in + Diderot’s noble and true tale. But while sacrificing herself, she + committed the magnanimous blunder of sacrificing dress. She had her gowns + dyed, and wore nothing but black. She stank of black, as Malaga said, + making fun mercilessly of Lousteau. + </p> + <p> + By the end of 1839, Etienne, following the example of Louis XV., had, by + dint of gradual capitulations of conscience, come to the point of + establishing a distinction between his own money and the housekeeping + money, just as Louis XV. drew the line between his privy purse and the + public moneys. He deceived Dinah as to his earnings. On discovering this + baseness, Madame de la Baudraye went through fearful tortures of jealousy. + She wanted to live two lives—the life of the world and the life of a + literary woman; she accompanied Lousteau to every first-night performance, + and could detect in him many impulses of wounded vanity, for her black + attire rubbed off, as it were, on him, clouding his brow, and sometimes + leading him to be quite brutal. He was really the woman of the two; and he + had all a woman’s exacting perversity; he would reproach Dinah for the + dowdiness of her appearance, even while benefiting by the sacrifice, which + to a mistress is so cruel—exactly like a woman who, after sending a + man through a gutter to save her honor, tells him she “cannot bear dirt!” + when he comes out. + </p> + <p> + Dinah then found herself obliged to gather up the rather loose reins of + power by which a clever woman drives a man devoid of will. But in so doing + she could not fail to lose much of her moral lustre. Such suspicions as + she betrayed drag a woman into quarrels which lead to disrespect, because + she herself comes down from the high level on which she had at first + placed herself. Next she made some concession; Lousteau was allowed to + entertain several of his friends—Nathan, Bixiou, Blondet, Finot, + whose manners, language, and intercourse were depraving. They tried to + convince Madame de la Baudraye that her principles and aversions were a + survival of provincial prudishness; and they preached the creed of woman’s + superiority. + </p> + <p> + Before long, her jealousy put weapons into Lousteau’s hands. During the + carnival of 1840, she disguised herself to go to the balls at the + Opera-house, and to suppers where she met courtesans, in order to keep an + eye on all Etienne’s amusements. + </p> + <p> + On the day of Mid-Lent—or rather, at eight on the morning after—Dinah + came home from the ball in her fancy dress to go to bed. She had gone to + spy on Lousteau, who, believing her to be ill, had engaged himself for + that evening to Fanny Beaupre. The journalist, warned by a friend, had + behaved so as to deceive the poor woman, only too ready to be deceived. + </p> + <p> + As she stepped out of the hired cab, Dinah met Monsieur de la Baudraye, to + whom the porter pointed her out. The little old man took his wife by the + arm, saying, in an icy tone: + </p> + <p> + “So this is you, madame!” + </p> + <p> + This sudden advent of conjugal authority, before which she felt herself so + small, and, above all, these words, almost froze the heart of the unhappy + woman caught in the costume of a <i>debardeur</i>. To escape Etienne’s eye + the more effectually, she had chosen a dress he was not likely to detect + her in. She took advantage of the mask she still had on to escape without + replying, changed her dress, and went up to her mother’s rooms, where she + found her husband waiting for her. In spite of her assumed dignity, she + blushed in the old man’s presence. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want of me, monsieur?” she asked. “Are we not separated + forever?” + </p> + <p> + “Actually, yes,” said Monsieur de la Baudraye. “Legally, no.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Piedefer was telegraphing signals to her daughter, which Dinah + presently observed and understood. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing could have brought you here but your own interests,” she said, in + a bitter tone. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Our</i> interests,” said the little man coldly, “for we have two + children.—Your Uncle Silas Piedefer is dead, at New York, where, + after having made and lost several fortunes in various parts of the world, + he has finally left some seven or eight hundred thousand francs—they + say twelve—but there is stock-in-trade to be sold. I am the chief in + our common interests, and act for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Dinah, “in everything that relates to business, I trust no one + but Monsieur de Clagny. He knows the law, come to terms with him; what he + does, will be done right.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no occasion for Monsieur de Clagny,” answered Monsieur de la + Baudraye, “to take my children from you—” + </p> + <p> + “Your children!” exclaimed Dinah. “Your children, to whom you have not + sent a sou! <i>Your</i> children!” She burst into a loud shout of + laughter; but Monsieur de la Baudraye’s unmoved coolness threw ice on the + explosion. + </p> + <p> + “Your mother has just brought them to show me,” he went on. “They are + charming boys. I do not intend to part from them. I shall take them to our + house at Anzy, if it were only to save them from seeing their mother + disguised like a—” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” said Madame de la Baudraye imperatively. “What do you want of + me that brought you here?” + </p> + <p> + “A power of attorney to receive our Uncle Silas’ property.” + </p> + <p> + Dinah took a pen, wrote two lines to Monsieur de Clagny, and desired her + husband to call again in the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + At five o’clock, Monsieur de Clagny—who had been promoted to the + post of Attorney-General—enlightened Madame de la Baudraye as to her + position; still, he undertook to arrange everything by a bargain with the + old fellow, whose visit had been prompted by avarice alone. Monsieur de la + Baudraye, to whom his wife’s power of attorney was indispensable to enable + him to deal with the business as he wished, purchased it by certain + concessions. In the first place, he undertook to allow her ten thousand + francs a year so long as she found it convenient—so the document was + worded—to reside in Paris; the children, each on attaining the age + of six, were to be placed in Monsieur de la Baudraye’s keeping. Finally, + the lawyer extracted the payment of the allowance in advance. + </p> + <p> + Little La Baudraye, who came jauntily enough to say good-bye to his wife + and <i>his</i> children, appeared in a white india-rubber overcoat. He was + so firm on his feet, and so exactly like the La Baudraye of 1836, that + Dinah despaired of ever burying the dreadful little dwarf. From the + garden, where he was smoking a cigar, the journalist could watch Monsieur + de la Baudraye for so long as it took the little reptile to cross the + forecourt, but that was enough for Lousteau; it was plain to him that the + little man had intended to wreck every hope of his dying that his wife + might have conceived. + </p> + <p> + This short scene made a considerable change in the writer’s secret + scheming. As he smoked a second cigar, he seriously reviewed the position. + </p> + <p> + His life with Madame de la Baudraye had hitherto cost him quite as much as + it had cost her. To use the language of business, the two sides of the + account balanced, and they could, if necessary, cry quits. Considering how + small his income was, and how hardly he earned it, Lousteau regarded + himself, morally speaking, as the creditor. It was, no doubt, a favorable + moment for throwing the woman over. Tired at the end of three years of + playing a comedy which never can become a habit, he was perpetually + concealing his weariness; and this fellow, who was accustomed to disguise + none of his feelings, compelled himself to wear a smile at home like that + of a debtor in the presence of his creditor. This compulsion was every day + more intolerable. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto the immense advantages he foresaw in the future had given him + strength; but when he saw Monsieur de la Baudraye embark for the United + States, as briskly as if it were to go down to Rouen in a steamboat, he + ceased to believe in the future. + </p> + <p> + He went in from the garden to the pretty drawing-room, where Dinah had + just taken leave of her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Etienne,” said Madame de la Baudraye, “do you know what my lord and + master has proposed to me? In the event of my wishing to return to live at + Anzy during his absence, he has left his orders, and he hopes that my + mother’s good advice will weigh with me, and that I shall go back there + with my children.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very good advice,” replied Lousteau drily, knowing the passionate + disclaimer that Dinah expected, and indeed begged for with her eyes. + </p> + <p> + The tone, the words, the cold look, all hit the hapless woman so hard, who + lived only in her love, that two large tears trickled slowly down her + cheeks, while she did not speak a word, and Lousteau only saw them when + she took out her handkerchief to wipe away these two beads of anguish. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Didine?” he asked, touched to the heart by this excessive + sensibility. + </p> + <p> + “Just as I was priding myself on having won our freedom,” said she—“at + the cost of my fortune—by selling—what is most precious to a + mother’s heart—selling my children!—for he is to have them + from the age of six—and I cannot see them without going to Sancerre!—and + that is torture!—Ah, dear God! What have I done——?” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau knelt down by her and kissed her hands with a lavish display of + coaxing and petting. + </p> + <p> + “You do not understand me,” said he. “I blame myself, for I am not worth + such sacrifices, dear angel. I am, in a literary sense, a quite + second-rate man. If the day comes when I can no longer cut a figure at the + bottom of the newspaper, the editors will let me lie, like an old shoe + flung into the rubbish heap. Remember, we tight-rope dancers have no + retiring pension! The State would have too many clever men on its hands if + it started on such a career of beneficence. I am forty-two, and I am as + idle as a marmot. I feel it—I know it”—and he took her by the + hand—“my love can only be fatal to you. + </p> + <p> + “As you know, at two-and-twenty I lived on Florine; but what is excusable + in a youth, what then seems smart and charming, is a disgrace to a man of + forty. Hitherto we have shared the burden of existence, and it has not + been lovely for this year and half. Out of devotion to me you wear nothing + but black, and that does me no credit.”—Dinah gave one of those + magnanimous shrugs which are worth all the words ever spoken.—“Yes,” + Etienne went on, “I know you sacrifice everything to my whims, even your + beauty. And I, with a heart worn out in past struggles, a soul full of + dark presentiments as to the future, I cannot repay your exquisite love + with an equal affection. We were very happy—without a cloud—for + a long time.—Well, then, I cannot bear to see so sweet a poem end + badly. Am I wrong?” + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye loved Etienne so truly, that this prudence, worthy + of de Clagny, gratified her and stanched her tears. + </p> + <p> + “He loves me for myself alone!” thought she, looking at him with smiling + eyes. + </p> + <p> + After four years of intimacy, this woman’s love now combined every shade + of affection which our powers of analysis can discern, and which modern + society has created; one of the most remarkable men of our age, whose + death is a recent loss to the world of letters, Beyle (Stendhal), was the + first to delineate them to perfection. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau could produce in Dinah the acute agitation which may be compared + to magnetism, that upsets every power of the mind and body, and overcomes + every instinct of resistance in a woman. A look from him, or his hand laid + on hers, reduced her to implicit obedience. A kind word or a smile + wreathed the poor woman’s soul with flowers; a fond look elated, a cold + look depressed her. When she walked, taking his arm and keeping step with + him in the street or on the boulevard, she was so entirely absorbed in him + that she lost all sense of herself. Fascinated by this fellow’s wit, + magnetized by his airs, his vices were but trivial defects in her eyes. + She loved the puffs of cigar smoke that the wind brought into her room + from the garden; she went to inhale them, and made no wry faces, hiding + herself to enjoy them. She hated the publisher or the newspaper editor who + refused Lousteau money on the ground of the enormous advances he had had + already. She deluded herself so far as to believe that her bohemian was + writing a novel, for which the payment was to come, instead of working off + a debt long since incurred. + </p> + <p> + This, no doubt, is true love, and includes every mode of loving; the love + of the heart and of the head—passion, caprice, and taste—to + accept Beyle’s definitions. Didine loved him so wholly, that in certain + moments when her critical judgment, just by nature, and constantly + exercised since she had lived in Paris, compelled her to read to the + bottom of Lousteau’s soul, sense was still too much for reason, and + suggested excuses. + </p> + <p> + “And what am I?” she replied. “A woman who has put herself outside the + pale. Since I have sacrificed all a woman’s honor, why should you not + sacrifice to me some of a man’s honor? Do we not live outside the limits + of social conventionality? Why not accept from me what Nathan can accept + from Florine? We will square accounts when we part, and only death can + part us—you know. My happiness is your honor, Etienne, as my + constancy and your happiness are mine. If I fail to make you happy, all is + at an end. If I cause you a pang, condemn me. + </p> + <p> + “Our debts are paid; we have ten thousand francs a year, and between us we + can certainly make eight thousand francs a year—I will write + theatrical articles.—With fifteen hundred francs a month we shall be + as rich as Rothschild.—Be quite easy. I will have some lovely + dresses, and give you every day some gratified vanity, as on the first + night of Nathan’s play—” + </p> + <p> + “And what about your mother, who goes to Mass every day, and wants to + bring a priest to the house and make you give up this way of life?” + </p> + <p> + “Every one has a pet vice. You smoke, she preaches at me, poor woman! But + she takes great care of the children, she takes them out, she is + absolutely devoted, and idolizes me. Would you hinder her from crying?” + </p> + <p> + “What will be thought of me?” + </p> + <p> + “But we do not live for the world!” cried she, raising Etienne and making + him sit by her. “Besides, we shall be married some day—we have the + risks of a sea voyage——” + </p> + <p> + “I never thought of that,” said Lousteau simply; and he added to himself, + “Time enough to part when little La Baudraye is safe back again.” + </p> + <p> + From that day forth Etienne lived in luxury; and Dinah, on first nights, + could hold her own with the best dressed women in Paris. Lousteau was so + fatuous as to affect, among his friends, the attitude of a man overborne, + bored to extinction, ruined by Madame de la Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what would I not give to the friend who would deliver me from Dinah! + But no one ever can!” said he. “She loves me enough to throw herself out + of the window if I told her.” + </p> + <p> + The journalist was duly pitied; he would take precautions against Dinah’s + jealousy when he accepted an invitation. And then he was shamelessly + unfaithful. Monsieur de Clagny, really in despair at seeing Dinah in such + disgraceful circumstances when she might have been so rich, and in so + wretched a position at the time when her original ambitions would have + been fulfilled, came to warn her, to tell her—“You are betrayed,” + and she only replied, “I know it.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer was silenced; still he found his tongue to say one thing. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye interrupted him when he had scarcely spoken a word. + </p> + <p> + “Do you still love me?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I would lose my soul for you!” he exclaimed, starting to his feet. + </p> + <p> + The hapless man’s eyes flashed like torches, he trembled like a leaf, his + throat was rigid, his hair thrilled to the roots; he believed he was so + blessed as to be accepted as his idol’s avenger, and this poor joy filled + him with rapture. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you so startled?” said she, making him sit down again. “That is + how I love him.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer understood this argument <i>ad hominem</i>. And there were + tears in the eyes of the Judge, who had just condemned a man to death! + </p> + <p> + Lousteau’s satiety, that odious conclusion of such illicit relations, had + betrayed itself in a thousand little things, which are like grains of sand + thrown against the panes of the little magical hut where those who love + dwell and dream. These grains of sand, which grow to be pebbles, had never + been discerned by Dinah till they were as big as rocks. Madame de la + Baudraye had at last thoroughly understood Lousteau’s character. + </p> + <p> + “He is,” she said to her mother, “a poet, defenceless against disaster, + mean out of laziness, not for want of heart, and rather too prone to + pleasure; in short, a great cat, whom it is impossible to hate. What would + become of him without me? I hindered his marriage; he has no prospects. + His talent would perish in privations.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my Dinah!” Madame Piedefer had exclaimed, “what a hell you live in! + What is the feeling that gives you strength enough to persist?” + </p> + <p> + “I will be a mother to him!” she had replied. + </p> + <p> + There are certain horrible situations in which we come to no decision till + the moment when our friends discern our dishonor. We accept compromises + with ourself so long as we escape a censor who comes to play prosecutor. + Monsieur de Clagny, as clumsy as a tortured man, had been torturing Dinah. + </p> + <p> + “To preserve my love I will be all that Madame de Pompadour was to + preserve her power,” said she to herself when Monsieur de Clagny had left + her. And this phrase sufficiently proves that her love was becoming a + burden to her, and would presently be a toil rather than a pleasure. + </p> + <p> + The part now assumed by Dinah was horribly painful, and Lousteau made it + no easier to play. When he wanted to go out after dinner he would perform + the tenderest little farces of affection, and address Dinah in words full + of devotion; he would take her by the chain, and when he had bruised her + with it, even while he hurt her, the lordly ingrate would say, “Did I + wound you?” + </p> + <p> + These false caresses and deceptions had degrading consequences for Dinah, + who believed in a revival of his love. The mother, alas, gave way to the + mistress with shameful readiness. She felt herself a mere plaything in the + man’s hands, and at last she confessed to herself: + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I will be his plaything!” finding joy in it—the rapture + of damnation. + </p> + <p> + When this woman, of a really manly spirit, pictured herself as living in + solitude, she felt her courage fail. She preferred the anticipated and + inevitable miseries of this fierce intimacy to the absence of the joys, + which were all the more exquisite because they arose from the midst of + remorse, of terrible struggles with herself, of a <i>No</i> persuaded to + be <i>Yes</i>. At every moment she seemed to come across the pool of + bitter water found in a desert, and drunk with greater relish than the + traveler would find in sipping the finest wines at a prince’s table. + </p> + <p> + When Dinah wondered to herself at midnight: + </p> + <p> + “Will he come home, or will he not?” she was not alive again till she + heard the familiar sound of Lousteau’s boots, and his well-known ring at + the bell. + </p> + <p> + She would often try to restrain him by giving him pleasure; she would hope + to be a match for her rivals, and leave them no hold on that agitated + heart. How many times a day would she rehearse the tragedy of <i>Le + Dernier Jour d’un condamne</i>, saying to herself, “To-morrow we part.” + And how often would a word, a look, a kiss full of apparently artless + feeling, bring her back to the depths of her love! + </p> + <p> + It was terrible. More than once had she meditated suicide as she paced the + little town garden where a few pale flowers bloomed. In fact, she had not + yet exhausted the vast treasure of devotion and love which a loving woman + bears in her heart. + </p> + <p> + The romance of <i>Adolphe</i> was her Bible, her study, for above all else + she would not be an Ellenore. She allowed herself no tears, she avoided + all the bitterness so cleverly described by the critic to whom we owe an + analysis of this striking work; whose comments indeed seemed to Dinah + almost superior to the book. And she read again and again this fine essay + by the only real critic who has written in the <i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i>, + an article now printed at the beginning of the new edition of <i>Adolphe</i>. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she would say to herself, as she repeated the author’s fateful + words, “no, I will not ‘give my requests the form of an order,’ I will not + ‘fly to tears as a means of revenge,’ I will not ‘condemn the things I + once approved without reservation,’ I will not ‘dog his footsteps with a + prying eye’; if he plays truant, he shall not on his return ‘see a + scornful lip, whose kiss is an unanswerable command.’ No, ‘my silence + shall not be a reproach nor my first word a quarrel.’—I will not be + like every other woman!” she went on, laying on her table the little + yellow paper volume which had already attracted Lousteau’s remark, “What! + are you studying <i>Adolphe</i>?”—“If for one day only he should + recognize my merits and say, ‘That victim never uttered a cry!’—it + will be all I ask. And besides, the others only have him for an hour; I + have him for life!” + </p> + <p> + Thinking himself justified by his private tribunal in punishing his wife, + Monsieur de la Baudraye robbed her to achieve his cherished enterprise of + reclaiming three thousand acres of moorland, to which he had devoted + himself ever since 1836, living like a mouse. He manipulated the property + left by Monsieur Silas Piedefer so ingeniously, that he contrived to + reduce the proved value to eight hundred thousand francs, while pocketing + twelve hundred thousand. He did not announce his return; but while his + wife was enduring unspeakable woes, he was building farms, digging + trenches, and ploughing rough ground with a courage that ranked him among + the most remarkable agriculturists of the province. + </p> + <p> + The four hundred thousand francs he had filched from his wife were spent + in three years on this undertaking, and the estate of Anzy was expected to + return seventy-two thousand francs a year of net profits after the taxes + were paid. The eight hundred thousand he invested at four and a half per + cent in the funds, buying at eighty francs, at the time of the financial + crisis brought about by the Ministry of the First of March, as it was + called. By thus securing to his wife an income of forty-eight thousand + francs he considered himself no longer in her debt. Could he not restore + the odd twelve hundred thousand as soon as the four and a half per cents + had risen above a hundred? He was now the greatest man in Sancerre, with + the exception of one—the richest proprietor in France—whose + rival he considered himself. He saw himself with an income of a hundred + and forty thousand francs, of which ninety thousand formed the revenue + from the lands he had entailed. Having calculated that besides this net + income he paid ten thousand francs in taxes, three thousand in working + expenses, ten thousand to his wife, and twelve hundred to his + mother-in-law, he would say in the literary circles of Sancerre: + </p> + <p> + “I am reputed miserly, and said to spend nothing; but my outlay amounts to + twenty-six thousand five hundred francs a year. And I have still to pay + for the education of my two children! I daresay it is not a pleasing fact + to the Milauds of Nevers, but the second house of La Baudraye may yet have + as noble a center as the first.—I shall most likely go to Paris and + petition the King of the French to grant me the title of Count—Monsieur + Roy is a Count—and my wife would be pleased to be Madame la + Comtesse.” + </p> + <p> + And this was said with such splendid coolness that no one would have dared + to laugh at the little man. Only Monsieur Boirouge, the Presiding Judge, + remarked: + </p> + <p> + “In your place, I should not be happy unless I had a daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I shall go to Paris before long——” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + In the early part of 1842 Madame de la Baudraye, feeling that she was to + Lousteau no more than a reserve in the background, had again sacrificed + herself absolutely to secure his comfort; she had resumed her black + raiment, but now it was in sign of mourning, for her pleasure was turning + to remorse. She was too often put to shame not to feel the weight of the + chain, and her mother found her sunk in those moods of meditation into + which visions of the future cast unhappy souls in a sort of torpor. + </p> + <p> + Madame Piedefer, by the advice of her spiritual director, was on the watch + for the moment of exhaustion, which the priest told her would inevitably + supervene, and then she pleaded in behalf of the children. She restricted + herself to urging that Dinah and Lousteau should live apart, not asking + her to give him up. In real life these violent situations are not closed + as they are in books, by death or cleverly contrived catastrophes; they + end far less poetically—in disgust, in the blighting of every flower + of the soul, in the commonplace of habit, and very often too in another + passion, which robs a wife of the interest which is traditionally ascribed + to women. So, when common sense, the law of social proprieties, family + interest—all the mixed elements which, since the Restoration, have + been dignified by the name of Public Morals, out of sheer aversion to the + name of the Catholic religion—where this is seconded by a sense of + insults a little too offensive; when the fatigue of constant + self-sacrifice has almost reached the point of exhaustion; and when, under + these circumstances, a too cruel blow—one of those mean acts which a + man never lets a woman know of unless he believes himself to be her + assured master—puts the crowning touch to her revulsion and + disenchantment, the moment has come for the intervention of the friend who + undertakes the cure. Madame Piedefer had no great difficulty now in + removing the film from her daughter’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + She sent for Monsieur de Clagny, who completed the work by assuring Madame + de la Baudraye that if she would give up Etienne, her husband would allow + her to keep the children and to live in Paris, and would restore her to + the command of her own fortune. + </p> + <p> + “And what a life you are leading!” said he. “With care and judgment, and + the support of some pious and charitable persons, you may have a salon and + conquer a position. Paris is not Sancerre.” + </p> + <p> + Dinah left it to Monsieur de Clagny to negotiate a reconciliation with the + old man. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de la Baudraye had sold his wine well, he had sold his wool, he + had felled his timber, and, without telling his wife, he had come to Paris + to invest two hundred thousand francs in the purchase of a delightful + residence in the Rue de l’Arcade, that was being sold in liquidation of an + aristocratic House that was in difficulties. He had been a member of the + Council for the Department since 1826, and now, paying ten thousand francs + in taxes, he was doubly qualified for a peerage under the conditions of + the new legislation. + </p> + <p> + Some time before the elections of 1842 he had put himself forward as + candidate unless he were meanwhile called to the Upper House as Peer of + France. At the same time, he asked for the title of Count, and for + promotion to the higher grade of the Legion of Honor. In the matter of the + elections, the dynastic nominations; now, in the event of Monsieur de la + Baudraye being won over to the Government, Sancerre would be more than + ever a rotten borough of royalism. Monsieur de Clagny, whose talents and + modesty were more and more highly appreciated by the authorities, gave + Monsieur de la Baudraye his support; he pointed out that by raising this + enterprising agriculturist to the peerage, a guarantee would be offered to + such important undertakings. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de la Baudraye, then, a Count, a Peer of France, and Commander of + the Legion of Honor, was vain enough to wish to cut a figure with a wife + and handsomely appointed house.—“He wanted to enjoy life,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He therefore addressed a letter to his wife, dictated by Monsieur de + Clagny, begging her to live under his roof and to furnish the house, + giving play to the taste of which the evidences, he said, had charmed him + at the Chateau d’Anzy. The newly made Count pointed out to his wife that + while the interests of their property forbade his leaving Sancerre, the + education of their boys required her presence in Paris. The accommodating + husband desired Monsieur de Clagny to place sixty thousand francs at the + disposal of Madame la Comtesse for the interior decoration of their + mansion, requesting that she would have a marble tablet inserted over the + gateway with the inscription: <i>Hotel de la Baudraye</i>. + </p> + <p> + He then accounted to his wife for the money derived from the estate of + Silas Piedefer, told her of the investment at four and a half per cent of + the eight hundred thousand francs he had brought from New York, and + allowed her that income for her expenses, including the education of the + children. As he would be compelled to stay in Paris during some part of + the session of the House of Peers, he requested his wife to reserve for + him a little suite of rooms in an <i>entresol</i> over the kitchens. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! why, he is growing young again—a gentleman!—a + magnifico!—What will he become next? It is quite alarming,” said + Madame de la Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + “He now fulfils all your wishes at the age of twenty,” replied the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + The comparison of her future prospects with her present position was + unendurable to Dinah. Only the day before, Anna de Fontaine had turned her + head away in order to avoid seeing her bosom friend at the Chamarolles’ + school. + </p> + <p> + “I am a countess,” said Dinah to herself. “I shall have the peer’s blue + hammer-cloth on my carriage, and the leaders of the literary world in my + drawing-room—and I will look at her!”—And it was this little + triumph that told with all its weight at the moment of her rehabilitation, + as the world’s contempt had of old weighed on her happiness. + </p> + <p> + One fine day, in May 1842, Madame de la Baudraye paid all her little + household debts and left a thousand crowns on top of the packet of + receipted bills. After sending her mother and the children away to the + Hotel de la Baudraye, she awaited Lousteau, dressed ready to leave the + house. When the deposed king of her heart came into dinner, she said: + </p> + <p> + “I have upset the pot, my dear. Madame de la Baudraye requests the + pleasure of your company at the <i>Rocher de Cancale</i>.” + </p> + <p> + She carried off Lousteau, quite bewildered by the light and easy manners + assumed by the woman who till that morning has been the slave of his least + whim, for she too had been acting a farce for two months past. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de la Baudraye is figged out as if for a first night,” said he—<i>une + premiere</i>, the slang abbreviation for a first performance. + </p> + <p> + “Do not forget the respect you owe to Madame de la Baudraye,” said Dinah + gravely. “I do not mean to understand such a word as <i>figged out</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Didine a rebel!” said he, putting his arm round her waist. + </p> + <p> + “There is no such person as Didine; you have killed her, my dear,” she + replied, releasing herself. “I am taking you to the first performance of + <i>Madame la Comtesse de la Baudraye</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true, then, that our insect is a peer of France?” + </p> + <p> + “The nomination is to be gazetted in this evening’s <i>Moniteur</i>, as I + am told by Monsieur de Clagny, who is promoted to the Court of Appeal.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is quite right,” said the journalist. “The entomology of society + ought to be represented in the Upper House.” + </p> + <p> + “My friend, we are parting for ever,” said Madame de la Baudraye, trying + to control the trembling of her voice. “I have dismissed the two servants. + When you go in, you will find the house in order, and no debts. I shall + always feel a mother’s affection for you, but in secret. Let us part + calmly, without a fuss, like decent people. + </p> + <p> + “Have you had a fault to find with my conduct during the past six years?” + </p> + <p> + “None, but that you have spoiled my life, and wrecked my prospects,” said + he in a hard tone. “You have read Benjamin Constant’s book very + diligently; you have even studied the last critique on it; but you have + read with a woman’s eyes. Though you have one of those superior intellects + which would make a fortune of a poet, you have never dared to take the + man’s point of view. + </p> + <p> + “That book, my dear, is of both sexes.—We agreed that books were + male or female, dark or fair. In <i>Adolphe</i> women see nothing but + Ellenore; young men see only Adolphe; men of experience see Ellenore and + Adolphe; political men see the whole of social existence. You did not + think it necessary to read the soul of Adolphe—any more than your + critic indeed, who saw only Ellenore. What kills that poor fellow, my + dear, is that he has sacrificed his future for a woman; that he never can + be what he might have been—an ambassador, a minister, a chamberlain, + a poet—and rich. He gives up six years of his energy at that stage + of his life when a man is ready to submit to the hardships of any + apprenticeship—to a petticoat, which he outstrips in the career of + ingratitude, for the woman who has thrown over her first lover is certain + sooner or later to desert the second. Adolphe is, in fact, a tow-haired + German, who has not spirit enough to be false to Ellenore. There are + Adolphes who spare their Ellenores all ignominious quarreling and + reproaches, who say to themselves, ‘I will not talk of what I have + sacrificed; I will not for ever be showing the stump of my wrist to let + that incarnate selfishness I have made my queen,’ as Ramorny does in <i>The + Fair Maid of Perth</i>. But men like that, my dear, get cast aside. + </p> + <p> + “Adolphe is a man of birth, an aristocratic nature, who wants to get back + into the highroad to honors and recover his social birthright, his + blighted position.—You, at this moment, are playing both parts. You + are suffering from the pangs of having lost your position, and think + yourself justified in throwing over a hapless lover whose misfortune it + has been that he fancied you so far superior as to understand that, though + a man’s heart ought to be true, his sex may be allowed to indulge its + caprices.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you suppose that I shall not make it my business to restore to you + all you have lost by me? Be quite easy,” said Madame de la Baudraye, + astounded by this attack. “Your Ellenore is not dying; and if God gives + her life, if you amend your ways, if you give up courtesans and actresses, + we will find you a better match than a Felicie Cardot.” + </p> + <p> + The two lovers were sullen. Lousteau affected dejection, he aimed at + appearing hard and cold; while Dinah, really distressed, listened to the + reproaches of her heart. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Lousteau presently, “why not end as we ought to have begun—hide + our love from all eyes, and see each other in secret?” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” cried the new-made Countess, with an icy look. “Do you not + comprehend that we are, after all, but finite creatures? Our feelings seem + infinite by reason of our anticipation of heaven, but here on earth they + are limited by the strength of our physical being. There are some feeble, + mean natures which may receive an endless number of wounds and live on; + but there are some more highly-tempered souls which snap at last under + repeated blows. You have—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! enough!” cried he. “No more copy! Your dissertation is unnecessary, + since you can justify yourself by merely saying—‘I have ceased to + love!’” + </p> + <p> + “What!” she exclaimed in bewilderment. “Is it I who have ceased to love?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. You have calculated that I gave you more trouble, more + vexation than pleasure, and you desert your partner—” + </p> + <p> + “I desert!——” cried she, clasping her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Have not you yourself just said ‘Never’?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, yes! <i>Never</i>,” she repeated vehemently. + </p> + <p> + This final <i>Never</i>, spoken in the fear of falling once more under + Lousteau’s influence, was interpreted by him as the death-warrant of his + power, since Dinah remained insensible to his sarcastic scorn. + </p> + <p> + The journalist could not suppress a tear. He was losing a sincere and + unbounded affection. He had found in Dinah the gentlest La Valliere, the + most delightful Pompadour that any egoist short of a king could hope for; + and, like a boy who has discovered that by dint of tormenting a cockchafer + he has killed it, Lousteau shed a tear. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye rushed out of the private room where they had been + dining, paid the bill, and fled home to the Rue de l’Arcade, scolding + herself and thinking herself a brute. + </p> + <p> + Dinah, who had made her house a model of comfort, now metamorphosed + herself. This double metamorphosis cost thirty thousand francs more than + her husband had anticipated. + </p> + <p> + The fatal accident which in 1842 deprived the House of Orleans of the + heir-presumptive having necessitated a meeting of the Chambers in August + of that year, little La Baudraye came to present his titles to the Upper + House sooner than he had expected, and then saw what his wife had done. He + was so much delighted, that he paid the thirty thousand francs without a + word, just as he had formerly paid eight thousand for decorating La + Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + On his return from the Luxembourg, where he had been presented according + to custom by two of his peers—the Baron de Nucingen and the Marquis + de Montriveau—the new Count met the old Duc de Chaulieu, a former + creditor, walking along, umbrella in hand, while he himself sat perched in + a low chaise on which his coat-of-arms was resplendent, with the motto, <i>Deo + sic patet fides et hominibus</i>. This contrast filled his heart with a + large draught of the balm on which the middle class has been getting drunk + ever since 1840. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye was shocked to see her husband improved and looking + better than on the day of his marriage. The little dwarf, full of + rapturous delight, at sixty-four triumphed in the life which had so long + been denied him; in the family, which his handsome cousin Milaud of Nevers + had declared he would never have; and in his wife—who had asked + Monsieur and Madame de Clagny to dinner to meet the cure of the parish and + his two sponsors to the Chamber of Peers. He petted the children with + fatuous delight. + </p> + <p> + The handsome display on the table met with his approval. + </p> + <p> + “These are the fleeces of the Berry sheep,” said he, showing Monsieur de + Nucingen the dish-covers surmounted by his newly-won coronet. “They are of + silver, you see!” + </p> + <p> + Though consumed by melancholy, which she concealed with the determination + of a really superior woman, Dinah was charming, witty, and above all, + young again in her court mourning. + </p> + <p> + “You might declare,” cried La Baudraye to Monsieur de Nucingen with a wave + of his hand to his wife, “that the Countess was not yet thirty.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha! Matame is a voman of dirty!” replied the baron, who was prone to + time-honored remarks, which he took to be the small change of + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “In every sense of the words,” replied the Countess. “I am, in fact, + five-and-thirty, and mean to set up a little passion—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, my wife ruins me in curiosities and china images—” + </p> + <p> + “She started that mania at an early age,” said the Marquis de Montriveau + with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said La Baudraye, with a cold stare at the Marquis, whom he had + known at Bourges, “you know that in ‘25, ‘26, and ‘27, she picked a + million francs’ worth of treasures. Anzy is a perfect museum.” + </p> + <p> + “What a cool hand!” thought Monsieur de Clagny, as he saw this little + country miser quite on the level of his new position. + </p> + <p> + But misers have savings of all kinds ready for use. + </p> + <p> + On the day after the vote on the Regency had passed the Chambers, the + little Count went back to Sancerre for the vintage and resumed his old + habits. + </p> + <p> + In the course of that winter, the Comtesse de la Baudraye, with the + support of the Attorney-General to the Court of Appeals, tried to form a + little circle. Of course, she had an “at home” day, she made a selection + among men of mark, receiving none but those of serious purpose and ripe + years. She tried to amuse herself by going to the Opera, French and + Italian. Twice a week she appeared there with her mother and Madame de + Clagny, who was made by her husband to visit Dinah. Still, in spite of her + cleverness, her charming manners, her fashionable stylishness, she was + never really happy but with her children, on whom she lavished all her + disappointed affection. + </p> + <p> + Worthy Monsieur de Clagny tried to recruit women for the Countess’ circle, + and he succeeded; but he was more successful among the advocates of piety + than the women of fashion. + </p> + <p> + “And they bore her!” said he to himself with horror, as he saw his idol + matured by grief, pale from remorse, and then, in all the splendor of + recovered beauty, restored by a life of luxury and care for her boys. This + devoted friend, encouraged in his efforts by her mother and by the cure + was full of expedient. Every Wednesday he introduced some celebrity from + Germany, England, Italy, or Prussia to his dear Countess; he spoke of her + as a quite exceptional woman to people to whom she hardly addressed two + words; but she listened to them with such deep attention that they went + away fully convinced of her superiority. In Paris, Dinah conquered by + silence, as at Sancerre she had conquered by loquacity. Now and then, some + smart saying about affairs, or sarcasm on an absurdity, betrayed a woman + accustomed to deal with ideas—the woman who, four years since, had + given new life to Lousteau’s articles. + </p> + <p> + This phase was to the poor lawyer’s hapless passion like the late season + known as the Indian summer after a sunless year. He affected to be older + than he was, to have the right to befriend Dinah without doing her an + injury, and kept himself at a distance as though he were young, handsome, + and compromising, like a man who has happiness to conceal. He tried to + keep his little attentions a profound secret, and the trifling gifts which + Dinah showed to every one; he endeavored to suggest a dangerous meaning + for his little services. + </p> + <p> + “He plays at passion,” said the Countess, laughing. She made fun of + Monsieur de Clagny to his face, and the lawyer said, “She notices me.” + </p> + <p> + “I impress that poor man so deeply,” said she to her mother, laughing, + “that if I would say Yes, I believe he would say No.” + </p> + <p> + One evening Monsieur de Clagny and his wife were taking his dear Countess + home from the theatre, and she was deeply pensive. They had been to the + first performance of Leon Gozlan’s first play, <i>La Main Droite et la + Main Gauche</i> (The Right Hand and the Left). + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking about?” asked the lawyer, alarmed at his idol’s + dejection. + </p> + <p> + This deep and persistent melancholy, though disguised by the Countess, was + a perilous malady for which Monsieur de Clagny knew no remedy; for true + love is often clumsy, especially when it is not reciprocated. True love + takes its expression from the character. Now, this good man loved after + the fashion of Alceste, when Madame de la Baudraye wanted to be loved + after the manner of Philinte. The meaner side of love can never get on + with the Misanthrope’s loyalty. Thus, Dinah had taken care never to open + her heart to this man. How could she confess to him that she sometimes + regretted the slough she had left? + </p> + <p> + She felt a void in this fashionable life; she had no one for whom to + dress, or whom to tell of her successes and triumphs. Sometimes the memory + of her wretchedness came to her, mingled with memories of consuming joys. + She would hate Lousteau for not taking any pains to follow her; she would + have liked to get tender or furious letters from him. + </p> + <p> + Dinah made no reply, so Monsieur de Clagny repeated the question, taking + the Countess’ hand and pressing it between his own with devout respect. + </p> + <p> + “Will you have the right hand or the left?” said she, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “The left,” said he, “for I suppose you mean the truth or a fib.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I saw him,” she said, speaking into the lawyer’s ear. “And as + I saw him looking so sad, so out of heart, I said to myself, Has he a + cigar? Has he any money?” + </p> + <p> + “If you wish for the truth, I can tell it you,” said the lawyer. “He is + living as a husband with Fanny Beaupre. You have forced me to tell you + this secret; I should never have told you, for you might have suspected me + perhaps of an ungenerous motive.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye grasped his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Your husband,” said she to her chaperon, “is one of the rarest souls!—Ah! + Why——” + </p> + <p> + She shrank into her corner, looking out of the window, but she did not + finish her sentence, of which the lawyer could guess the end: “Why had not + Lousteau a little of your husband’s generosity of heart?” + </p> + <p> + This information served, however, to cure Dinah of her melancholy; she + threw herself into the whirl of fashion. She wished for success, and she + achieved it; still, she did not make much way with women, and found it + difficult to get introductions. + </p> + <p> + In the month of March, Madame Piedefer’s friends the priests and Monsieur + de Clagny made a fine stroke by getting Madame de la Baudraye appointed + receiver of subscriptions for the great charitable work founded by Madame + de Carcado. Then she was commissioned to collect from the Royal Family + their donations for the benefit of the sufferers from the earthquake at + Guadeloupe. The Marquise d’Espard, to whom Monsieur de Canalis read the + list of ladies thus appointed, one evening at the Opera, said, on hearing + that of the Countess: + </p> + <p> + “I have lived a long time in the world, and I can remember nothing finer + than the manoeuvres undertaken for the rehabilitation of Madame de la + Baudraye.” + </p> + <p> + In the early spring, which, by some whim of our planets, smiled on Paris + in the first week of March in 1843, making the Champs-Elysees green and + leafy before Longchamp, Fanny Beaupre’s attache had seen Madame de la + Baudraye several times without being seen by her. More than once he was + stung to the heart by one of those promptings of jealousy and envy + familiar to those who are born and bred provincials, when he beheld his + former mistress comfortably ensconced in a handsome carriage, well + dressed, with dreamy eyes, and his two little boys, one at each window. He + accused himself with all the more virulence because he was waging war with + the sharpest poverty of all—poverty unconfessed. Like all + essentially light and frivolous natures, he cherished the singular point + of honor which consists in never derogating in the eyes of one’s own + little public, which makes men on the Bourse commit crimes to escape + expulsion from the temple of the goddess Per-cent, and has given some + criminals courage enough to perform acts of virtue. + </p> + <p> + Lousteau dined and breakfasted and smoked as if he were a rich man. Not + for an inheritance would he have bought any but the dearest cigars, for + himself as well as for the playwright or author with whom he went into the + shop. The journalist took his walks abroad in patent leather boots; but he + was constantly afraid of an execution on goods which, to use the bailiff’s + slang, had already received the last sacrament. Fanny Beaupre had nothing + left to pawn, and her salary was pledged to pay her debts. After + exhausting every possible advance of pay from newspapers, magazines, and + publishers, Etienne knew not of what ink he could churn gold. + Gambling-houses, so ruthlessly suppressed, could no longer, as of old, + cash I O U’s drawn over the green table by beggary in despair. In short, + the journalist was reduced to such extremity that he had just borrowed a + hundred francs of the poorest of his friends, Bixiou, from whom he had + never yet asked for a franc. What distressed Lousteau was not the fact of + owing five thousand francs, but seeing himself bereft of his elegance, and + of the furniture purchased at the cost of so many privations, and added to + by Madame de la Baudraye. + </p> + <p> + On April the 3rd, a yellow poster, torn down by the porter after being + displayed on the wall, announced the sale of a handsome suite of furniture + on the following Saturday, the day fixed for sales under legal authority. + Lousteau was taking a walk, smoking cigars, and seeking ideas—for, + in Paris, ideas are in the air, they smile on you from a street corner, + they splash up with a spurt of mud from under the wheels of a cab! Thus + loafing, he had been seeking ideas for articles, and subjects for novels + for a month past, and had found nothing but friends who carried him off to + dinner or to the play, and who intoxicated his woes, telling him that + champagne would inspire him. + </p> + <p> + “Beware,” said the virulent Bixiou one night, the man who would at the + same moment give a comrade a hundred francs and stab him to the heart with + a sarcasm; “if you go to sleep drunk every night, one day you will wake up + mad.” + </p> + <p> + On the day before, the Friday, the unhappy wretch, although he was + accustomed to poverty, felt like a man condemned to death. Of old he would + have said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, the furniture is very old! I will buy new.” + </p> + <p> + But he was incapable now of literary legerdemain. Publishers, undermined + by piracy, paid badly; the newspapers made close bargains with hard-driven + writers, as the Opera managers did with tenors that sang flat. + </p> + <p> + He walked on, his eye on the crowd, though seeing nothing, a cigar in his + mouth, and his hands in his pockets, every feature of his face twitching, + and an affected smile on his lips. Then he saw Madame de la Baudraye go by + in a carriage; she was going to the Boulevard by the Rue de la Chaussee + d’Antin to drive in the Bois. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing else left!” said he to himself, and he went home to + smarten himself up. + </p> + <p> + That evening, at seven, he arrived in a hackney cab at Madame de la + Baudraye’s door, and begged the porter to send a note up to the Countess—a + few lines, as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Would Madame la Comtesse do Monsieur Lousteau the favor of receiving him + for a moment, and at once?” + </p> + <p> + This note was sealed with a seal which as lovers they had both used. + Madame de la Baudraye had had the word <i>Parce que</i> engraved on a + genuine Oriental carnelian—a potent word—a woman’s word—the + word that accounts for everything, even for the Creation. + </p> + <p> + The Countess had just finished dressing to go to the Opera; Friday was her + night in turn for her box. At the sight of this seal she turned pale. + </p> + <p> + “I will come,” she said, tucking the note into her dress. + </p> + <p> + She was firm enough to conceal her agitation, and begged her mother to see + the children put to bed. She then sent for Lousteau, and received him in a + boudoir, next to the great drawing-room, with open doors. She was going to + a ball after the Opera, and was wearing a beautiful dress of brocade in + stripes alternately plain and flowered with pale blue. Her gloves, trimmed + with tassels, showed off her beautiful white arms. She was shimmering with + lace and all the dainty trifles required by fashion. Her hair, dressed <i>a + la Sevigne</i>, gave her a look of elegance; a necklace of pearls lay on + her bosom like bubbles on snow. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, monsieur?” said the Countess, putting out her foot + from below her skirt to rest it on a velvet cushion. “I thought, I hoped, + I was quite forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “If I should reply <i>Never</i>, you would refuse to believe me,” said + Lousteau, who remained standing, or walked about the room, chewing the + flowers he plucked from the flower-stands full of plants that scented the + room. + </p> + <p> + For a moment silence reigned. Madame de la Baudraye, studying Lousteau, + saw that he was dressed as the most fastidious dandy might have been. + </p> + <p> + “You are the only person in the world who can help me, or hold out a plank + to me—for I am drowning, and have already swallowed more than one + mouthful——” said he, standing still in front of Dinah, and + seeming to yield to an overpowering impulse. “Since you see me here, it is + because my affairs are going to the devil.” + </p> + <p> + “That is enough,” said she; “I understand.” + </p> + <p> + There was another pause, during which Lousteau turned away, took out his + handkerchief, and seemed to wipe away a tear. + </p> + <p> + “How much do you want, Etienne,” she went on in motherly tones. “We are at + this moment old comrades; speak to me as you would to—to Bixiou.” + </p> + <p> + “To save my furniture from vanishing into thin air to-morrow morning at + the auction mart, eighteen hundred francs! To repay my friends, as much + again! Three quarters’ rent to the landlord—whom you know.—My + ‘uncle’ wants five hundred francs—” + </p> + <p> + “And you!—to live on?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I have my pen——” + </p> + <p> + “It is heavier to lift than any one could believe who reads your + articles,” said she, with a subtle smile.—“I have not such a sum as + you need, but come to-morrow at eight; the bailiff will surely wait till + nine, especially if you bring him away to pay him.” + </p> + <p> + She must, she felt, dismiss Lousteau, who affected to be unable to look at + her; she herself felt such pity as might cut every social Gordian knot. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she added, rising and offering her hand to Lousteau. “Your + confidence has done me good! It is long indeed since my heart has known + such joy——” + </p> + <p> + Lousteau took her hand and pressed it tenderly to his heart. + </p> + <p> + “A drop of water in the desert—and sent by the hand of an angel! God + always does things handsomely!” + </p> + <p> + He spoke half in jest and half pathetically; but, believe me, as a piece + of acting it was as fine as Talma’s in his famous part of <i>Leicester</i>, + which was played throughout with touches of this kind. Dinah felt his + heart beating through his coat; it was throbbing with satisfaction, for + the journalist had had a narrow escape from the hulks of justice; but it + also beat with a very natural fire at seeing Dinah rejuvenescent and + restored by wealth. + </p> + <p> + Madame de la Baudraye, stealing an examining glance at Etienne, saw that + his expression was in harmony with the flowers of love, which, as she + thought, had blossomed again in that throbbing heart; she tried to look + once into the eyes of the man she had loved so well, but the seething + blood rushed through her veins and mounted to her brain. Their eyes met + with the same fiery glow as had encouraged Lousteau on the Quay by the + Loire to crumple Dinah’s muslin gown. The Bohemian put his arm round her + waist, she yielded, and their cheeks were touching. + </p> + <p> + “Here comes my mother, hide!” cried Dinah in alarm. And she hurried + forward to intercept Madame Piedefer. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma,” said she—this word was to the stern old lady a coaxing + expression which never failed of its effect—“will you do me a great + favor? Take the carriage and go yourself to my banker, Monsieur Mongenod, + with a note I will give you, and bring back six thousand francs. Come, + come—it is an act of charity; come into my room.” + </p> + <p> + And she dragged away her mother, who seemed very anxious to see who it was + that her daughter had been talking with in the boudoir. + </p> + <p> + Two days afterwards, Madame Piedefer held a conference with the cure of + the parish. After listening to the lamentations of the old mother, who was + in despair, the priest said very gravely: + </p> + <p> + “Any moral regeneration which is not based on a strong religious + sentiment, and carried out in the bosom of the Church, is built on sand.—The + many means of grace enjoined by the Catholic religion, small as they are, + and not understood, are so many dams necessary to restrain the violence of + evil promptings. Persuade your daughter to perform all her religious + duties, and we shall save her yet.” + </p> + <p> + Within ten days of this meeting the Hotel de la Baudraye was shut up. The + Countess, the children, and her mother, in short, the whole household, + including a tutor, had gone away to Sancerre, where Dinah intended to + spend the summer. She was everything that was nice to the Count, people + said. + </p> + <p> + And so the Muse of Sancerre had simply come back to family and married + life; but certain evil tongues declared that she had been compelled to + come back, for that the little peer’s wishes would no doubt be fulfilled—he + hoped for a little girl. + </p> + <p> + Gatien and Monsieur Gravier lavished every care, every servile attention + on the handsome Countess. Gatien, who during Madame de la Baudraye’s long + absence had been to Paris to learn the art of <i>lionnerie</i> or + dandyism, was supposed to have a good chance of finding favor in the eyes + of the disenchanted “Superior Woman.” Others bet on the tutor; Madame + Piedefer urged the claims of religion. + </p> + <p> + In 1844, about the middle of June, as the Comte de la Baudraye was taking + a walk on the Mall at Sancerre with the two fine little boys, he met + Monsieur Milaud, the Public Prosecutor, who was at Sancerre on business, + and said to him: + </p> + <p> + “These are my children, cousin.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha! so these are our children!” replied the lawyer, with a + mischievous twinkle. + </p> + <p> + PARIS, June 1843-August 1844. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ADDENDUM + </h2> + <h3> + The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Beaupre, Fanny + A Start in Life + Modeste Mignon + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Berthier, Madame (Felicie Cardot) + Cousin Pons + + Bianchon, Horace + Father Goriot + The Atheist’s Mass + Cesar Birotteau + The Commission in Lunacy + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Secrets of a Princess + The Government Clerks + Pierrette + A Study of Woman + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Honorine + The Seamy Side of History + The Magic Skin + A Second Home + A Prince of Bohemia + Letters of Two Brides + The Imaginary Mistress + The Middle Classes + Cousin Betty + The Country Parson + In addition, M. Bianchon narrated the following: + Another Study of Woman + La Grande Breteche + + Bixiou, Jean-Jacques + The Purse + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Government Clerks + Modeste Mignon + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Firm of Nucingen + Cousin Betty + The Member for Arcis + Beatrix + A Man of Business + Gaudissart II. + The Unconscious Humorists + Cousin Pons + + Camusot + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Cousin Pons + Cesar Birotteau + At the Sign of the Cat and Racket + + Cardot (Parisian notary) + A Man of Business + Jealousies of a Country Town + Pierre Grassou + The Middle Classes + Cousin Pons + + Chargeboeuf, Melchior-Rene, Vicomte de + The Member for Arcis + + Falcon, Jean + The Chouans + Cousin Betty + + Grosstete (younger brother of F. Grosstete) + The Country Parson + + Hulot (Marshal) + The Chouans + Cousin Betty + + La Baudraye, Madame Polydore Milaud de + A Prince of Bohemia + Cousin Betty + + Lebas + Cousin Betty + + Listomere, Baronne de + The Vicar of Tours + Cesar Birotteau + + Lousteau, Etienne + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + A Daughter of Eve + Beatrix + Cousin Betty + A Prince of Bohemia + A Man of Business + The Middle Classes + The Unconscious Humorists + + Lupeaulx, Clement Chardin des + Eugenie Grandet + A Bachelor’s Establishment + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Government Clerks + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Ursule Mirouet + + Maufrigneuse, Duchesse de + The Secrets of a Princess + Modeste Mignon + Jealousies of a Country Town + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Letters of Two Brides + Another Study of Woman + The Gondreville Mystery + The Member for Arcis + + Milaud + Lost Illusions + + Nathan, Raoul + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Secrets of a Princess + A Daughter of Eve + Letters of Two Brides + The Seamy Side of History + A Prince of Bohemia + A Man of Business + The Unconscious Humorists + + Nathan, Madame Raoul + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Government Clerks + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Ursule Mirouet + Eugenie Grandet + The Imaginary Mistress + A Prince of Bohemia + A Daughter of Eve + The Unconscious Humorists + + Navarreins, Duc de + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Colonel Chabert + The Thirteen + Jealousies of a Country Town + The Peasantry + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Country Parson + The Magic Skin + The Gondreville Mystery + The Secrets of a Princess + Cousin Betty + + Nucingen, Baron Frederic de + The Firm of Nucingen + Father Goriot + Pierrette + Cesar Birotteau + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Another Study of Woman + The Secrets of a Princess + A Man of Business + Cousin Betty + The Unconscious Humorists + + Ronceret, Madame Fabien du + Beatrix + Cousin Betty + The Unconscious Humorists + + Rouget, Jean-Jacques + A Bachelor’s Establishment + + Touches, Mademoiselle Felicite des + Beatrix + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Another Study of Woman + A Daughter of Eve + Honorine + Beatrix + + Turquet, Marguerite + The Imaginary Mistress + A Man of Business + Cousin Betty + + Vandenesse, Comtesse Felix de + A Second Home + A Daughter of Eve +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Parisians in the Country, by Honore de Balzac + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PARISIANS IN THE COUNTRY *** + +***** This file should be named 7929-h.htm or 7929-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/9/2/7929/ + +Produced by John Bickers, David Widger, and Dagny + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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