Red Lily, the — Volume 01 by France, Anatole, 1844-1924

8/14/2019 Red Lily, the Volume 01 by France, Anatole, 1844-1924

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THEREDLILY

ByANATOLEFRANCE

TherealnameofthesubjectofthisprefaceisJacques-AnatoleThibault.HewasborninParis,April16,1844,thesonofabookselleroftheQuaiMalaquais,intheshadowoftheInstitute.HewaseducatedattheCollegeStanislasandpublishedin1868anessayuponAlfreddeVigny.Thiswasfollowedbytwovolumesofpoetry:'LesPoemesDores'(1873),

and'LesNocesCorinthiennes'(1876).Withthelastmentionedbookhisreputationbecameestablished.

AnatoleFrancebelongstotheclassofpoetsknownas"LesParnassiens."Yetabooklike'LesNocesCorinthiennes'oughttobeclassifiedamongagroupofearlierlyrics,inasmuchasitshowstoalargedegreetheinfluenceofAndreChenierandAlfreddeVigny.Francewas,andis,alsoadiligentcontributortomanyjournalsandreviews,amongothers,'LeGlobe,LesDebats,LeJournalOfficiel,L'EchodeParis,LaRevuedeFamille,andLeTemps'.OnthelastmentionedjournalhesucceededJulesClaretie.HeislikewiseLibrariantotheSenate,andhasbeenamemberoftheFrenchAcademysince1896.

Theabovementionedtwovolumesofpoetrywerefollowedbymanyworksinprose,whichweshallnotice.France'scriticalwritingsarecollectedinfourvolumes,underthetitle,'LaVieLitteraire'(1888-1892);hispoliticalarticlesin'OpinionsSociales'(2vols.,1902).HecombinesinhisstyletracesofRacine,Voltaire,Flaubert,andRenan,and,indeed,someofhisnovels,especially'Thais'(1890),'JeromeCoignard'(1893),andLysRouge(1894),whichwascrownedbytheAcademy,areromancesofthefirstrank.

CriticismappearstoAnatoleFrancethemostrecentandpossiblythe


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ultimateevolutionofliteraryexpression,"admirablysuitedtoahighlycivilizedsociety,richinsouvenirsandoldtraditions....Itproceeds,"inhisopinion,"fromphilosophyandhistory,anddemandsforitsdevelopmentanabsoluteintellectualliberty.....Itisthelastindateofallliteraryforms,anditwillendbyabsorbingthemall....Tobeperfectlyfrankthecriticshouldsay:'Gentlemen,IproposetoenlargeuponmyownthoughtsconcerningShakespeare,Racine,Pascal,Goethe,oranyotherwriter.'"

ItishardlynecessarytosaymuchconcerningacriticwithsuchpronouncedideasasAnatoleFrance.Hegivesus,indeed,thefullflowerofcriticalRenanism,butsoindividualizedastobecomeperfectioningrace,theextremefloweringoftheLatingenius.ItisnottoomuchtosaythatthecriticalwritingsofAnatoleFrancerecalltheCauseriesduLundi,thegoldenageofSainte-Beuve!

Asawriteroffiction,AnatoleFrancemadehisdebutin1879with'Jocaste',and'LeChatMaigre'.Successinthisfieldwasyetdecidedlydoubtfulwhen'LeCrimedeSylvestreBonnard'appearedin1881.Itatonceestablishedhisreputation;'SylvestreBonnard',as'LeLysRouge'later,wascrownedbytheFrenchAcademy.Thesenovelsarerepletewithfineirony,benevolentscepticismandpiquantturns,andwillsurvivethegreaterpartofromancesnowreadinFrance.ThelistofAnatoleFrance'sworksinfictionisalargeone.Thetitlesofnearlyallof

them,arrangedinchronologicalorder,areasfollows:'LesDesirsdeJeanSeyvien(1882);Abeille(1883);LeLivredemonAmi(1885);NosEnfants(1886);Balthazar(1889);Thais(1890);L'EtuideNaire(1892);JeromeCoignard,andLaRotisseriedelaReinePedanque(1893);andHistoireContemporaine(1897-1900),thelatterconsistingoffourseparateworks:'L'OrmeduMail,LeMannequind'Osier,L'Anneaud'Amethyste,andMonsieurBergeretaParis'.Allofhiswritingsshowhisdelicatelycriticalanalysisofpassion,atfirstplayfullytenderinitsirony,butlater,undertheinfluenceofhiscriticalantagonismtoBrunetiere,growingkeener,stronger,andmorebitter.In'Thais'hehasundertakentoshowthebondofsympathythatunitesthepessimisticsceptictotheChristianascetic,sincebothdespisetheworld.In'LysRouge',hisgreatestnovel,hetracestheperilouslynarrowlinethat

separateslovefromhate;in'OpinionsdeM.l'AbbeJeromeCoignard'hehasgivenusthemostradicalbreviaryofscepticismthathasappearedsinceMontaigne.'LeLivredemonAmi'ismostlyautobiographical;'Clio'(1900)containshistoricalsketches.

TorepresentAnatoleFranceasoneoftheundyingnamesinliteraturewouldhardlybeextravagant.NotthatIwouldendowArielwiththestatureandsinewsofaTitan;thisweretomisshisdistinctivequalities:delicacy,elegance,charm.Hebelongstoacategoryofwriterswhoaremorereadandprobablywilleverexercisegreaterinfluencethansomeofgreatername.Thelattershowuslifeasawhole;butlifeasawholeistoovastandtooremotetoexciteinmostofusmorethanasomewhatlanguidcuriosity.Franceconfineshimselfto

themesofthekeenestpersonalinterest,thelifeoftheworldwelivein.Itishereinthatheexcels!Hisknowledgeiswide,hissympathiesaremany-sided,hispowerofexpositionisunsurpassed.Noonehassetbeforeusthemindofourtime,withitshalf-lights,itsshadowyvistas,itsindefiniteness,itshazeonthehorizon,sovividlyashe.

InOctaveMirbeau'snotoriousnovel,anovelwhichitwouldbecomplimentarytodescribeasnaturalistic,theheroineiswarnedbyherdirectoragainsttheworksofAnatoleFrance,"NelisezjamaisduVoltaire...C'estunpechemortel...nideRenan...ni


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del'AnatoleFrance.Voilaquiestdangereux."Thenamesareappropriatelyunited;areal,ifnotpreciselyanapostolic,successionexistsbetweenthethreewriters.

JULESLEMAITREdel'AcademieFrancais

BOOK1.

CHAPTERI

"INEEDLOVE"

Shegaveaglanceatthearmchairsplacedbeforethechimney,atthetea-table,whichshoneintheshade,andatthetall,palestemsofflowersascendingaboveChinesevases.Shethrustherhandamongtheflowerybranchesoftheguelderrosestomaketheirsilveryballsquiver.Thenshelookedatherselfinamirrorwithseriousattention.Sheheldherselfsidewise,herneckturnedoverhershoulder,tofollowwithher

eyesthespringofherfineforminitssheath-likeblacksatingown,aroundwhichfloatedalighttunicstuddedwithpearlswhereinsombrelightsscintillated.Shewentnearer,curioustoknowherfaceofthatday.Themirrorreturnedherlookwithtranquillity,asifthisamiablewomanwhomsheexamined,andwhowasnotunpleasingtoher,livedwithouteitheracutejoyorprofoundsadness.

Onthewallsofthelargedrawing-room,emptyandsilent,thefiguresofthetapestries,vagueasshadows,showedpallidamongtheirantiquegamesanddyinggraces.Likethem,theterra-cottastatuettesonslendercolumns,thegroupsofoldSaxony,andthepaintingsofSevres,spokeofpastglories.Onapedestalornamentedwithpreciousbronzes,themarblebustofsomeprincessroyaldisguisedasDianaappearedabouttoflyout

ofherturbulentdrapery,whileontheceilingafigureofNight,powderedlikeamarquiseandsurroundedbycupids,sowedflowers.Everythingwasasleep,andonlythecracklingofthelogsandthelightrattleofTherese'spearlscouldbeheard.

Turningfromthemirror,sheliftedthecornerofacurtainandsawthroughthewindow,beyondthedarktreesofthequay,theSeinespreadingitsyellowreflections.Wearinessoftheskyandofthewaterwasreflectedinherfinegrayeyes.Theboatpassed,the'Hirondelle',emergingfromanarchoftheAlmaBridge,andcarryinghumbletravellerstowardGrenelleandBillancourt.Shefolloweditwithhereyes,thenletthecurtainfall,and,seatingherselfundertheflowers,tookabookfromthetable.Onthestraw-coloredlinencovershonethetitlein

gold:'YseultlaBlonde',byVivianBell.ItwasacollectionofFrenchversescomposedbyanEnglishwoman,andprintedinLondon.Shereadindifferently,waitingforvisitors,andthinkinglessofthepoetrythanofthepoetess,MissBell,whowasperhapshermostagreeablefriend,andwhomshealmostneversaw;who,ateveryoneoftheirmeetings,whichweresorare,kissedher,callingher"darling,"andbabbled;who,plainyetseductive,almostridiculous,yetwhollyexquisite,livedatFiesolelikeaphilosopher,whileEnglandcelebratedherashermostbelovedpoet.LikeVernonLeeandlikeMaryRobinson,shehadfalleninlovewiththelifeandartofTuscany;and,withoutevenfinishingher


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Tristan,thefirstpartofwhichhadinspiredinBurne-Jonesdreamyaquarelles,shewroteProvencalversesandFrenchpoemsexpressingItalianideas.Shehadsenther'YseultlaBlonde'to"Darling,"withaletterinvitinghertospendamonthwithheratFiesole.Shehadwritten:"Come;youwillseethemostbeautifulthingsintheworld,andyouwillembellishthem."

And"darling"wassayingtoherselfthatshewouldnotgo,thatshemustremaininParis.ButtheideaofseeingMissBellinItalywasnotindifferenttoher.Andturningtheleavesofthebook,shestoppedbychanceatthisline:

Loveandgentleheartareone.

Andsheaskedherself,withgentleirony,whetherMissBellhadeverbeeninlove,andwhatmannerofmancouldbetheidealofMissBell.ThepoetesshadatFiesoleanescort,PrinceAlbertinelli.Hewasveryhandsome,butrathercoarseandvulgar;toomuchsotopleaseanaesthetewhoblendedwiththedesireforlovethemysticismofanAnnunciation.

"Good-evening,Therese.Iampositivelywornout."

ThePrincessSeniavinehadentered,suppleinherfurs,whichalmostseemedtoformapartofherdarkbeauty.Sheseatedherselfbrusquely,

and,inavoiceatonceharshyetcaressing,said:

"ThismorningIwalkedthroughtheparkwithGeneralLariviere.Imethiminanalleyandmadehimgowithmetothebridge,wherehewishedtobuyfromtheguardianalearnedmagpiewhichperformsthemanualofarmswithagun.Oh!Iamsotired!"

"ButwhydidyoudragtheGeneraltothebridge?"

"Becausehehadgoutinhistoe."

Thereseshruggedhershoulders,smiling:

"Yousquanderyourwickedness.Youspoilthings."

"Andyouwishme,dear,tosavemykindnessandmywickednessforaseriousinvestment?"

TheresemadeherdrinksomeTokay.

Precededbythesoundofhispowerfulbreathing,GeneralLariviereapproachedwithheavystateandsatbetweenthetwowomen,lookingstubbornandself-satisfied,laughingineverywrinkleofhisface.

"HowisMonsieurMartin-Belleme?Alwaysbusy?"

TheresethoughthewasattheChamber,andeventhathewasmakingaspeechthere.

PrincessSeniavine,whowaseatingcaviaresandwiches,askedMadameMartinwhyshehadnotgonetoMadameMeillan'sthedaybefore.Theyhadplayedacomedythere.

"AScandinavianplay?Wasitasuccess?"

"Yes--Idon'tknow.Iwasinthelittlegreenroom,undertheportrait


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oftheDucd'Orleans.MonsieurLeMenilcametomeanddidmeoneofthosegoodturnsthatoneneverforgets.HesavedmefromMonsieurGarain."

TheGeneral,whoknewtheAnnualRegister,andstoredawayallusefulinformation,prickeduphisears.

"Garain,"heasked,"theministerwhowasintheCabinetwhentheprinceswereexiled?"

"Himself.Iwasexcessivelyagreeabletohim.Hetalkedtomeoftheyearningsofhisheartandhelookedatmewithalarmingtenderness.Andfromtimetotimehegazed,withsighs,attheportraitoftheDucd'Orleans.Isaidtohim:'MonsieurGarain,youaremakingamistake.Itismysister-in-lawwhoisanOrleanist.Iamnot.'AtthismomentMonsieurLeMenilcametoescortmetothebuffet.Hepaidgreatcompliments--tomyhorses!Hesaid,also,therewasnothingsobeautifulastheforestinwinter.Hetalkedaboutwolves.Thatrefreshedme."

TheGeneral,whodidnotlikeyoungmen,saidhehadmetLeMenilthedaybeforeintheforest,galloping,withvastspacebetweenhimselfandhissaddle.

Hedeclaredthatoldcavaliersaloneretainedthetraditionsofgood

horsemanship;thatpeopleinsocietynowrodelikejockeys.

"Itisthesamewithfencing,"headded."Formerly--"

PrincessSeniavineinterruptedhim:

"General,lookandseehowcharmingMadameMartinis.Sheisalwayscharming,butatthismomentsheisprettierthanever.Itisbecausesheisbored.Nothingbecomesherbetterthantobebored.Sincewehavebeenhere,wehaveboredherterribly.Lookather:herforeheadclouded,herglancevague,hermouthdolorous.Beholdavictim!"

Shearose,kissedTheresetumultuously,andfled,leavingtheGeneral

astonished.

MadameMartin-BellemeprayedhimnottolistentowhatthePrincesshadsaid.

Hecollectedhimselfandasked:

"Andhowareyourpoets,Madame?"

ItwasdifficultforhimtoforgiveMadameMartinherpreferenceforpeoplewholivedbywritingandwerenotofhiscircle.

"Yes,yourpoets.WhathasbecomeofthatMonsieurChoulette,whovisits

youwrappedinaredmuffler?"

"Mypoets?Theyforgetme,theyabandonme.Oneshouldnotrelyonanybody.Menandwomen--nothingissure.Lifeisacontinualbetrayal.OnlythatpoorMissBelldoesnotforgetme.ShehaswrittentomefromFlorenceandsentherbook."

"MissBell?Isn'tshethatyoungpersonwholooks,withheryellowwavinghair,likealittlelapdog?"


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Hereflected,andexpressedtheopinionthatshemustbeatleastthirty.

Anoldlady,wearingwithmodestdignityhercrownofwhitehair,andalittlevivaciousmanwithshrewdeyes,cameinsuddenly--MadameMarmetandM.PaulVence.Then,carryinghimselfverystiffly,withasquaremonocleinhiseye,appearedM.DanielSalomon,thearbiterofelegance.TheGeneralhurriedout.

Theytalkedofthenoveloftheweek.MadameMarmethaddinedoftenwiththeauthor,ayoungandveryamiableman.PaulVencethoughtthebooktiresome.

"Oh,"sighedMadameMartin,"allbooksaretiresome.Butmenaremoretiresomethanbooks,andtheyaremoreexacting."

MadameMarmetsaidthatherhusband,whohadmuchliterarytaste,hadretained,untiltheendofhisdays,ahorrorofnaturalism.Shewasthewidowofamemberofthe'AcademiedesInscriptions',andplumedherselfuponherillustriouswidowhood.Shewassweetandmodestinherblackgownandherbeautifulwhitehair.

MadameMartinsaidtoM.DanielSalomonthatshewishedtoconsulthimparticularlyonthepictureofagroupofbeautifulchildren.

"Youwilltellmeifitpleasesyou.Youmayalsogivemeyouropinion,MonsieurVence,unlessyoudisdainsuchtrifles."

M.DanielSalomonlookedatPaulVencethroughhismonoclewithdisdain.PaulVencesurveyedthedrawing-room.

"Youhavebeautifulthings,Madame.Thatwouldbenothing.Butyouhaveonlybeautifulthings,andallservetosetoffyourownbeauty."

Shedidnotconcealherpleasureathearinghimspeakinthatway.SheregardedPaulVenceastheonlyreallyintelligentmansheknew.Shehadappreciatedhimbeforehisbookshadmadehimcelebrated.Hisill-health,hisdarkhumor,hisassiduouslabor,separatedhimfromsociety.

Thelittlebiliousmanwasnotverypleasing;yetheattractedher.Sheheldinhighesteemhisprofoundirony,hisgreatpride,histalentripenedinsolitude,andsheadmiredhim,withreason,asanexcellentwriter,theauthorofpowerfulessaysonartandonlife.

Littlebylittletheroomfilledwithabrilliantcrowd.WithinthelargecircleofarmchairswereMadamedeWesson,aboutwhompeopletoldfrightfulstories,andwhokept,aftertwentyyearsofhalf-smotheredscandal,theeyesofachildandcheeksofvirginalsmoothness;oldMadamedeMorlaine,whoshoutedherwittyphrasesinpiercingcries;MadameRaymond,thewifeoftheAcademician;MadameGarain,thewifeoftheexminister;threeotherladies;and,standingeasilyagainstthemantelpiece,M.Berthierd'Eyzelles,editorofthe'JournaldesDebats',

adeputywhocaressedhiswhitebeardwhileMadamedeMorlaineshoutedathim:

"Yourarticleonbimetallismisapearl,ajewel!Especiallytheendofit."

Standingintherearoftheroom,youngclubmen,verygrave,lispedamongthemselves:

"WhatdidhedotogetthebuttonfromthePrince?"


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"He,nothing.Hiswife,everything."

Theyhadtheirowncynicalphilosophy.Oneofthemhadnofaithinpromisesofmen.

"Theyaretypesthatdonotsuitme.Theyweartheirheartsontheirhandsandontheirmouths.Youpresentyourselfforadmissiontoaclub.Theysay,'Ipromisetogiveyouawhiteball.Itwillbeanalabasterball--asnowball!Theyvote.It'sablackball.LifeseemsavileaffairwhenIthinkofit."

"Thendon'tthinkofit."

DanielSalomon,whohadjoinedthem,whisperedintheirearsspicystoriesinaloweredvoice.AndateverystrangerevelationconcerningMadameRaymond,orMadameBerthier,orPrincessSeniavine,headded,negligently:

"Everybodyknowsit."

Then,littlebylittle,thecrowdofvisitorsdispersed.OnlyMadameMarmetandPaulVenceremained.

ThelatterwenttowardMadameMartin,andasked:

"WhendoyouwishmetointroduceDechartretoyou?"

Itwasthesecondtimehehadaskedthisofher.Shedidnotliketoseenewfaces.Shereplied,unconcernedly:

"Yoursculptor?Whenyouwish.IsawattheChampdeMarsmedallionsmadebyhimwhichareverygood.Buthedoesnotworkmuch.Heisanamateur,ishenot?"

"Heisadelicateartist.Hedoesnotneedtoworkinordertolive.Hecaresseshisfigureswithlovingslowness.Butdonotbedeceived

abouthim,Madame.Heknowsandhefeels.Hewouldbeamasterifhedidnotlivealone.Ihaveknownhimsincehischildhood.Peoplethinkthatheissolitaryandmorose.Heispassionateandtimid.Whathelacks,whathewilllackalwaystoreachthehighestpointofhisart,issimplicityofmind.Heisrestless,andhespoilshismostbeautifulimpressions.Inmyopinionhewascreatedlessforsculpturethanforpoetryorphilosophy.Heknowsagreatdeal,andyouwillbeastonishedatthewealthofhismind."

MadameMarmetapproved.

Shepleasedsocietybyappearingtofindpleasureinit.Shelistenedagreatdealandtalkedlittle.Veryaffable,shegavevaluetoher

affabilitybynotsquanderingit.EitherbecauseshelikedMadameMartin,orbecausesheknewhowtogivediscreetmarksofpreferenceineveryhouseshewent,shewarmedherselfcontentedly,likearelative,inacorneroftheLouisXVIchimney,whichsuitedherbeauty.Shelackedonlyherdog.

"HowisToby?"askedMadameMartin."MonsieurVence,doyouknowToby?Hehaslongsilkyhairandalovelylittleblacknose."

MadameMarmetwasrelishingthepraiseofToby,whenanoldman,pinkand


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blond,withcurlyhair,short-sighted,almostblindunderhisgoldenspectacles,rathershort,strikingagainstthefurniture,bowingtoemptyarmchairs,blunderingintothemirrors,pushedhiscrookednosebeforeMadameMarmet,wholookedathimindignantly.

ItwasM.Schmoll,memberoftheAcademiedesInscriptions.HesmiledandturnedamadrigalfortheCountessMartinwiththathereditaryharsh,coarsevoicewithwhichtheJews,hisfathers,pressedtheircreditors,thepeasantsofAlsace,ofPoland,andoftheCrimea.Hedraggedhisphrasesheavily.ThisgreatphilologistknewalllanguagesexceptFrench.AndMadameMartinenjoyedhisaffablephrases,heavyandrustyliketheiron-workofbrica-bracshops,amongwhichfelldriedleavesofanthology.M.Schmolllikedpoetsandwomen,andhadwit.

MadameMarmetfeignednottoknowhim,andwentoutwithoutreturninghisbow.

Whenhehadexhaustedhisprettymadrigals,M.Schmollbecamesombreandpitiful.Hecomplainedpiteously.Hewasnotdecoratedenough,notprovidedwithsinecuresenough,norwellfedenoughbytheState--he,MadameSchmoll,andtheirfivedaughters.Hislamentationshadsomegrandeur.SomethingofthesoulofEzekielandofJeremiahwasinthem.

Unfortunately,turninghisgolden-spectacledeyestowardthetable,he

discoveredVivianBell'sbook.

"Oh,'YseultLaBlonde',"heexclaimed,bitterly."Youarereadingthatbook,Madame?Well,learnthatMademoiselleVivianBellhasstolenaninscriptionfromme,andthatshehasalteredit,moreover,byputtingitintoverse.Youwillfinditonpage109ofherbook:'Ashademayweepoverashade.'Youhear,Madame?'Ashademayweepoverashade.'Well,thosewordsaretranslatedliterallyfromafuneralinscriptionwhichIwasthefirsttopublishandtoillustrate.Lastyear,oneday,whenIwasdiningatyourhouse,beingplacedbythesideofMademoiselleBell,Iquotedthisphrasetoher,anditpleasedheragreatdeal.Atherrequest,thenextdayItranslatedintoFrenchtheentireinscriptionandsentittoher.AndnowIfinditchangedinthisvolumeofversesunder

thistitle:'OntheSacredWay'--thesacredway,thatisI."

Andherepeated,inhisbadhumor:

"I,Madame,amthesacredway."

Hewasannoyedthatthepoethadnotspokentohimaboutthisinscription.Hewouldhavelikedtoseehisnameatthetopofthepoem,intheverses,intherhymes.Hewishedtoseehisnameeverywhere,andalwayslookedforitinthejournalswithwhichhispocketswerestuffed.Buthehadnorancor.HewasnotreallyangrywithMissBell.Headmittedgracefullythatshewasadistinguishedperson,andapoetthatdidgreathonortoEngland.

Whenhehadgone,theCountessMartinaskedingenuouslyofPaulVenceifheknewwhythatgoodMadameMarmethadlookedatM.Schmollwithsuchmarkedthoughsilentanger.Hewassurprisedthatshedidnotknow.

"Ineverknowanything,"shesaid.

"ButthequarrelbetweenSchmollandMarmetisfamous.ItceasedonlyatthedeathofMarmet.


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"ThedaythatpoorMarmetwasburied,snowwasfalling.Wewerewetandfrozentothebones.Atthegrave,inthewind,inthemud,Schmollreadunderhisumbrellaaspeechfullofjovialcrueltyandtriumphantpity,whichhetookafterwardtothenewspapersinamourningcarriage.AnindiscreetfriendletMadameMarmethearofit,andshefainted.Isitpossible,Madame,thatyouhavenotheardofthislearnedandferociousquarrel?

"TheEtruscanlanguagewasthecauseofit.Marmetmadeithisuniquestudy.HewassurnamedMarmettheEtruscan.Neitherhenoranyoneelseknewawordofthatlanguage,thelastvestigeofwhichislost.SchmollsaidcontinuallytoMarmet:'YoudonotknowEtruscan,mydearcolleague;thatisthereasonwhyyouareanhonorablesavantandafair-mindedman.'Piquedbyhisironicpraise,MarmetthoughtoflearningalittleEtruscan.HereadtohiscolleagueamemoironthepartplayedbyflexionsintheidiomoftheancientTuscans."

MadameMartinaskedwhataflexionwas.

"Oh,Madame,ifIexplainanythingtoyou,itwillmixupeverything.BecontentwithknowingthatinthatmemoirpoorMarmetquotedLatintextsandquotedthemwrong.SchmollisaLatinistofgreatlearning,and,afterMommsen,thechiefepigraphistoftheworld.

"Hereproachedhisyoungcolleague--Marmetwasnotfiftyyearsold--withreadingEtruscantoowellandLatinnotwellenough.FromthattimeMarmethadnorest.Ateverymeetinghewasmockedunmercifully;and,finally,inspiteofhissoftness,hegotangry.Schmolliswithoutrancor.Itisavirtueofhisrace.Hedoesnotbearill-willtothosewhomhepersecutes.Oneday,ashewentupthestairwayoftheInstitutewithRenanandOppert,hemetMarmet,andextendedhishandtohim.Marmetrefusedtotakeit,andsaid'Idonotknowyou.'--'DoyoutakemeforaLatininscription?'Schmollreplied.Marmetdiedandwasburiedbecauseofthatsatire.Nowyouknowthereasonwhyhiswidowseeshisenemywithhorror."

"AndIhavemadethemdinetogether,sidebyside."

"Madame,itwasnotimmoral,butitwascruel."

"Mydearsir,Ishallshockyou,perhaps;butifIhadtochoose,Ishouldlikebettertodoanimmoralthingthanacruelone."

Ayoungman,tall,thin,dark,withalongmoustache,entered,andbowedwithbrusquesuppleness.

"MonsieurVence,IthinkthatyouknowMonsieurLeMenil."

TheyhadmetbeforeatMadameMartin's,andsaweachotheroftenattheFencingClub.ThedaybeforetheyhadmetatMadameMeillan's.

"MadameMeillan's--there'sahousewhereoneisbored,"saidPaulVence.

"YetAcademiciansgothere,"saidM.RobertLeMenil."Idonotexaggeratetheirvalue,buttheyaretheelite."

MadameMartinsmiled.

"Weknow,MonsieurLeMenil,thatatMadameMeillan'syouarepreoccupiedbythewomenmorethanbytheAcademicians.YouescortedPrincess


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Seniavinetothebuffetandtalkedtoheraboutwolves."

"Whatwolves?"

"Wolves,andforestsblackenedbywinter.Wethoughtthatwithsoprettyawomanyourconversationwasrathersavage!"

PaulVencerose.

"Soyoupermit,Madame,thatIshouldbringmyfriendDechartre?Hehasagreatdesiretoknowyou,andIhopehewillnotdispleaseyou.Thereislifeinhismind.Heisfullofideas."

"Oh,Idonotaskforsomuch,"MadameMartinsaid."Peoplethatarenaturalandshowthemselvesastheyarerarelyboreme,andsometimestheyamuseme."

WhenPaulVencehadgone,LeMenillisteneduntilthenoiseoffootstepshadvanished;then,comingnearer:

"To-morrow,atthreeo'clock?Doyoustillloveme?"

Heaskedhertoreplywhiletheywerealone.Sheansweredthatitwaslate,thatsheexpectednomorevisitors,andthatnooneexcepther

husbandwouldcome.

Heentreated.Thenshesaid:

"Ishallbefreeto-morrowallday.Waitformeatthreeo'clock."

Hethankedherwithalook.Then,placinghimselfonattheothersideofthechimney,heaskedwhowasthatDechartrewhomshewishedintroducedtoher.

"Idonotwishhimtobeintroducedtome.Heistobeintroducedtome.Heisasculptor."

Hedeploredthefactthatsheneededtoseenewfaces,adding:

"Asculptor?Theyareusuallybrutal."

"Oh,butthisonedoessolittlesculpture!ButifitannoysyouthatIshouldmeethim,Iwillnotdoso."

"Ishouldbesorryifsocietytookanypartofthetimeyoumightgivetome."

"Myfriend,youcannotcomplainofthat.IdidnotevengotoMadameMeillan'syesterday."

"Youarerighttoshowyourselfthereaslittleaspossible.Itisnotahouseforyou."

Heexplained.Allthewomenthatwenttherehadhadsomespicyadventurewhichwasknownandtalkedabout.Besides,MadameMeillanfavoredintrigue.Hegaveexamples.MadameMartin,however,herhandsextendedonthearmsofthechairincharmingrestfulness,herheadinclined,lookedatthedyingembersinthegrate.Herthoughtfulmoodhadflown.Nothingofitremainedonherface,alittlesaddened,norinherlanguidbody,moredesirablethaneverinthequiescenceofhermind.Shekept


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forawhileaprofoundimmobility,whichaddedtoherpersonalattractionthecharmofthingsthatarthadcreated.

Heaskedherofwhatshewasthinking.Escapingthemagicoftheblazeintheashes,shesaid:

"Wewillgoto-morrow,ifyouwish,tofardistantplaces,totheodddistrictswherethepoorpeoplelive.Iliketheoldstreetswheremiserydwells."

Hepromisedtosatisfyhertaste,althoughheletherknowthathethoughtitabsurd.Thewalksthatsheledhimsometimesboredhim,andhethoughtthemdangerous.Peoplemightseethem.

"Andsincewehavebeensuccessfuluntilnowinnotcausinggossip--"

Sheshookherhead.

"Doyouthinkthatpeoplehavenottalkedaboutus?Whethertheyknowordonotknow,theytalk.Noteverythingisknown,buteverythingissaid."

Sherelapsedintoherdream.Hethoughtherdiscontented,cross,forsomereasonwhichshewouldnottell.Hebentuponherbeautiful,grave

eyeswhichreflectedthelightofthegrate.Butshereassuredhim.

"Idonotknowwhetheranyonetalksaboutme.AndwhatdoIcare?Nothingmatters."

Helefther.Hewasgoingtodineattheclub,whereafriendwaswaitingforhim.Shefollowedhimwithhereyes,withpeacefulsympathy.Thenshebeganagaintoreadintheashes.

Shesawinthemthedaysofherchildhood;thecastlewhereinshehadpassedthesweet,sadsummers;thedarkandhumidpark;thepondwheresleptthegreenwater;themarblenymphsunderthechestnut-trees,andthebenchonwhichshehadweptanddesireddeath.To-dayshestill

ignoredthecauseofheryouthfuldespair,whentheardentawakeningofherimaginationthrewherintoatroubledmazeofdesiresandoffears.Whenshewasachild,lifefrightenedher.Andnowsheknewthatlifeisnotworthsomuchanxietynorsomuchhope;thatitisaveryordinarything.Sheshouldhaveknownthis.Shethought:

"Isawmamma;shewasgood,verysimple,andnotveryhappy.Idreamedofadestinydifferentfromhers.Why?Ifeltaroundmetheinsipidtasteoflife,andseemedtoinhalethefuturelikeasaltandpungentaroma.Why?WhatdidIwant,andwhatdidIexpect?WasInotwarnedenoughofthesadnessofeverything?"

Shehadbeenbornrich,inthebrilliancyofafortunetoonew.Shewas

adaughterofthatMontessuy,who,atfirstaclerkinaParisianbank,foundedandgovernedtwogreatestablishments,broughttosustainthemtheresourcesofabrilliantmind,invincibleforceofcharacter,arareallianceofclevernessandhonesty,andtreatedwiththeGovernmentasifhewereaforeignpower.ShehadgrownupinthehistoricalcastleofJoinville,bought,restored,andmagnificentlyfurnishedbyherfather.Montessuymadelifegiveallitcouldyield.Aninstinctiveandpowerfulatheist,hewantedallthegoodsofthisworldandallthedesirablethingsthatearthproduces.Heaccumulatedpicturesbyoldmasters,andprecioussculptures.Atfiftyhehadknownallthemostbeautifulwomen


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ofthestage,andmanyinsociety.Heenjoyedeverythingworldlywiththebrutalityofhistemperamentandtheshrewdnessofhismind.

PoorMadameMontessuy,economicalandcareful,languishedatJoinville,delicateandpoor,underthefrownsoftwelvegiganticcaryatideswhichheldaceilingonwhichLebrunhadpaintedtheTitansstruckbyJupiter.There,intheironcot,placedatthefootofthelargebed,shediedonenightofsadnessandexhaustion,neverhavinglovedanythingonearthexceptherhusbandandherlittledrawing-roomintheRueMaubeuge.

Sheneverhadhadanyintimacywithherdaughter,whomshefeltinstinctivelytoodifferentfromherself,toofree,tooboldatheart;andshedivinedinTherese,althoughshewassweetandgood,thestrongMontessuyblood,theardorwhichhadmadehersuffersomuch,andwhichsheforgaveinherhusband,butnotinherdaughter.

ButMontessuyrecognizedhisdaughterandlovedher.Likemosthearty,full-bloodedmen,hehadhoursofcharminggayety.Althoughhelivedoutofhishouseagreatdeal,hebreakfastedwithheralmosteveryday,andsometimestookheroutwalking.Heunderstoodgownsandfurbelows.HeinstructedandformedTherese.Heamusedher.Nearher,hisinstinctforconquestinspiredhimstill.Hedesiredtowinalways,andhewonhisdaughter.Heseparatedherfromhermother.Thereseadmiredhim,sheadoredhim.

Inherdreamshesawhimastheuniquejoyofherchildhood.Shewaspersuadedthatnomanintheworldwasasamiableasherfather.

Atherentranceinlife,shedespairedatonceoffindingelsewheresorichanature,suchaplenitudeofactiveandthinkingforces.Thisdiscouragementhadfollowedherinthechoiceofahusband,andperhapslaterinasecretandfreerchoice.

Shehadnotreallyselectedherhusband.Shedidnotknow:shehadpermittedherselftobemarriedbyherfather,who,thenawidower,embarrassedbythecareofagirl,hadwishedtodothingsquicklyandwell.Heconsideredtheexterioradvantages,estimatedtheeightyyears

ofimperialnobilitywhichCountMartinbrought.Theideanevercametohimthatshemightwishtofindloveinmarriage.

Heflatteredhimselfthatshewouldfindinitthesatisfactionoftheluxuriousdesireswhichheattributedtoher,thejoyofmakingadisplayofgrandeur,thevulgarpride,thematerialdomination,whichwereforhimallthevalueoflife,ashehadnoideasonthesubjectofthehappinessofatruewoman,althoughhewassurethathisdaughterwouldremainvirtuous.

Whilethinkingofhisabsurdyetnaturalfaithinher,whichaccordedsobadlywithhisownexperiencesandideasregardingwomen,shesmiledwithmelancholyirony.Andsheadmiredherfatherthemore.

Afterall,shewasnotsobadlymarried.Herhusbandwasasgoodasanyotherman.Hehadbecomequitebearable.Ofallthatshereadintheashes,intheveiledsoftnessofthelamps,ofallherreminiscences,thatoftheirmarriedlifewasthemostvague.Shefoundafewisolatedtraitsofit,someabsurdimages,afleetingandfastidiousimpression.Thetimehadnotseemedlongandhadleftnothingbehind.Sixyearshadpassed,andshedidnotevenrememberhowshehadregainedherliberty,sopromptandeasyhadbeenherconquestofthathusband,cold,sickly,selfish,andpolite;ofthatmandriedupandyellowedbybusinessand


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politics,laborious,ambitious,andcommonplace.Helikedwomenonlythroughvanity,andheneverhadlovedhiswife.Theseparationhadbeenfrankandcomplete.Andsincethen,strangerstoeachother,theyfeltatacit,mutualgratitudefortheirfreedom.Shewouldhavehadsomeaffectionforhimifshehadnotfoundhimhypocriticalandtoosubtleintheartofobtaininghersignaturewhenheneededmoneyforenterprisesthatweremoreforostentationthanrealbenefit.Themanwithwhomshedinedandtalkedeverydayhadnosignificanceforher.

Withhercheekinherhand,beforethegrate,asifshequestionedasibyl,shesawagainthefaceoftheMarquisdeRe.Shesawitsopreciselythatitsurprisedher.TheMarquisdeRehadbeenpresentedtoherbyherfather,whoadmiredhim,andheappearedtohergrandanddazzlingforhisthirtyyearsofintimatetriumphsandmundaneglories.Hisadventuresfollowedhimlikeaprocession.Hehadcaptivatedthreegenerationsofwomen,andhadleftintheheartofallthosewhomhehadlovedanimperishablememory.Hisvirilegrace,hisquietelegance,andhishabitofpleasinghadprolongedhisyouthfarbeyondtheordinarytermofyears.HenoticedparticularlytheyoungCountessMartin.Thehomageofthisexpertflatteredher.Shethoughtofhimnowwithpleasure.Hehadamarvellousartofconversation.Heamusedher.Shelethimseeit,andatoncehepromisedtohimself,inhisheroicfrivolity,tofinishworthilyhishappylifebythesubjugationofthisyoungwomanwhomheappreciatedaboveeveryoneelse,andwhoevidently

admiredhim.Hedisplayed,tocaptureher,themostlearnedstratagems.Butsheescapedhimveryeasily.

Sheyielded,twoyearslater,toRobertLeMenil,whohaddesiredherardently,withallthewarmthofhisyouth,withallthesimplicityofhismind.Shesaidtoherself:"Igavemyselftohimbecausehelovedme."Itwasthetruth.Thetruthwas,also,thatadumbyetpowerfulinstincthadimpelledher,andthatshehadobeyedthehiddenimpulseofherbeing.Buteventhiswasnotherrealself;whatawakenedhernatureatlastwasthefactthatshebelievedinthesincerityofhissentiment.Shehadyieldedassoonasshehadfeltthatshewasloved.Shehadgivenherself,quickly,simply.Hethoughtthatshehadyieldedeasily.Hewasmistaken.Shehadfeltthediscouragementwhichtheirreparable

gives,andthatsortofshamewhichcomesofhavingsuddenlysomethingtoconceal.Everythingthathadbeenwhisperedbeforeheraboutotherwomenresoundedinherburningears.But,proudanddelicate,shetookcaretohidethevalueofthegiftshewasmaking.Heneversuspectedhermoraluneasiness,whichlastedonlyafewdays,andwasreplacedbyperfecttranquillity.Afterthreeyearsshedefendedherconductasinnocentandnatural.

Havingdoneharmtonoone,shehadnoregrets.Shewascontent.Shewasinlove,shewasloved.Doubtlessshehadnotfelttheintoxicationshehadexpected,butdoesoneeverfeelit?Shewasthefriendofthegoodandhonestfellow,muchlikedbywomenwhopassedfordisdainfulandhardtoplease,andhehadatrueaffectionforher.Thepleasureshe

gavehimandthejoyofbeingbeautifulforhimattachedhertothisfriend.Hemadelifeforhernotcontinuallydelightful,buteasytobear,andattimesagreeable.

Thatwhichshehadnotdivinedinhersolitude,notwithstandingvagueyearningsandapparentlycauselesssadness,hehadrevealedtoher.Sheknewherselfwhensheknewhim.Itwasahappyastonishment.Theirsympathieswerenotintheirminds.Herinclinationtowardhimwassimpleandfrank,andatthismomentshefoundpleasureintheideaofmeetinghimthenextdayinthelittleapartmentwheretheyhadmetfor


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threeyears.Withashakeoftheheadandashrugofhershoulders,coarserthanonewouldhaveexpectedfromthisexquisitewoman,sittingalonebythedyingfire,shesaidtoherself:"There!Ineedlove!"

CHAPTERII

"ONECANSEETHATYOUAREYOUNG!"

ItwasnolongerdaylightwhentheycameoutofthelittleapartmentintheRueSpontini.RobertLeMenilmadeasigntoacoachman,andenteredthecarriagewithTherese.Closetogether,theyrolledamongthevagueshadows,cutbysuddenlights,throughtheghostlycity,havingintheirmindsonlysweetandvanishingimpressionswhileeverythingaroundthemseemedconfusedandfleeting.

ThecarriageapproachedthePont-Neuf.Theysteppedout.AdrycoldmadevividthesombreJanuaryweather.UnderherveilTheresejoyfullyinhaledthewindwhichsweptonthehardenedsoiladustwhiteassalt.Shewasgladtowanderfreelyamongunknownthings.Shelikedtoseethestonylandscapewhichtheclearnessoftheairmadedistinct;towalkquicklyandfirmlyonthequaywherethetreesdisplayedtheblack

traceryoftheirbranchesonthehorizonreddenedbythesmokeofthecity;tolookattheSeine.Intheskythefirststarsappeared.

"Onewouldthinkthatthewindwouldputthemout,"shesaid.

Heobserved,too,thattheyscintillatedagreatdeal.Hedidnotthinkitwasasignofrain,asthepeasantsbelieve.Hehadobserved,onthecontrary,thatninetimesintenthescintillationofstarswasanauguryoffineweather.

Nearthelittlebridgetheyfoundoldiron-shopslightedbysmokylamps.Sheranintothem.Sheturnedacornerandwentintoashopinwhichqueerstuffswerehanging.Behindthedirtypanesalightedcandle

showedpots,porcelainvases,aclarinet,andabride'swreath.

Hedidnotunderstandwhatpleasureshefoundinhersearch.

"Theseshopsarefullofvermin.Whatcanyoufindinterestinginthem?"

"Everything.Ithinkofthepoorbridewhosewreathisunderthatglobe.ThedinneroccurredatMaillot.Therewasapolicemanintheprocession.ThereisoneinalmostallthebridalprocessionsoneseesintheparkonSaturdays.Don'ttheymoveyou,myfriend,allthesepoor,ridiculous,miserablebeingswhocontributetothegrandeurofthepast?"

Amongcupsdecoratedwithflowersshediscoveredalittleknife,the

ivoryhandleofwhichrepresentedatall,thinwomanwithherhairarrangedalaMaintenon.Sheboughtitforafewsous.Itpleasedher,becauseshealreadyhadaforklikeit.LeMenilconfessedthathehadnotasteforsuchthings,butsaidthathisauntknewagreatdealaboutthem.AtCaenallthemerchantsknewher.Shehadrestoredandfurnishedherhouseinproperstyle.Thishousewasnotedasearlyas1690.Inoneofitshallswerewhitecasesfullofbooks.Hisaunthadwishedtoputtheminorder.Shehadfoundfrivolousbooksinthem,ornamentedwithengravingssounconventionalthatshehadburnedthem.


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"Isshesilly,youraunt?"askedTherese.

Foralongtimehisanecdotesabouthisaunthadmadeherimpatient.Herfriendhadinthecountryamother,sisters,aunts,andnumerousrelativeswhomshedidnotknowandwhoirritatedher.Hetalkedofthemwithadmiration.Itannoyedherthatheoftenvisitedthem.Whenhecameback,sheimaginedthathecarriedwithhimtheodorofthingsthathadbeenpackedupforyears.Hewasastonished,naively,andhesufferedfromherantipathytothem.

Hesaidnothing.Thesightofapublic-house,thepanesofwhichwereflaming,recalledtohimthepoetChoulette,whopassedforadrunkard.HeaskedherifshestillsawthatChoulette,whocalledonherwearingamackintoshandaredmuffler.

ItannoyedherthathespokelikeGeneralLariviere.ShedidnotsaythatshehadnotseenChoulettesinceautumn,andthatheneglectedherwiththecapriciousnessofamannotinsociety.

"Hehaswit,"shesaid,"fantasy,andanoriginaltemperament.Hepleasesme."

Andashereproachedherforhavinganoddtaste,shereplied:

"Ihaven'tataste,Ihavetastes.Youdonotdisapproveofthemall,Isuppose."

Herepliedthathedidnotcriticiseher.HewasonlyafraidthatshemightdoherselfharmbyreceivingaBohemianwhowasnotwelcomeinrespectablehouses.

Sheexclaimed:

"Notwelcomeinrespectablehouses--Choulette?Don'tyouknowthathegoeseveryyearforamonthtotheMarquisedeRieu?Yes,totheMarquisedeRieu,theCatholic,theroyalist.ButsinceChouletteinterestsyou,listentohislatestadventure.PaulVencerelateditto

me.Iunderstanditbetterinthisstreet,wherethereareshirtsandflowerpotsatthewindows.

"Thiswinter,onenightwhenitwasraining,Choulettewentintoapublic-houseinastreetthenameofwhichIhaveforgotten,butwhichmustresemblethisone,andmetthereanunfortunategirlwhomthewaiterswouldnothavenoticed,andwhomhelikedforherhumility.HernamewasMaria.Thenamewasnothers.Shefounditnailedonherdooratthetopofthestairwaywhereshewenttolodge.Choulettewastouchedbythisperfectionofpovertyandinfamy.Hecalledherhissister,andkissedherhands.Sincethenhehasnotquittedheramoment.Hetakeshertothecoffee-housesoftheLatinQuarterwheretherichstudentsreadtheirreviews.Hesayssweetthingstoher.He

weeps,sheweeps.Theydrink;andwhentheyaredrunk,theyfight.Helovesher.Hecallsherhischasteone,hiscrossandhissalvation.Shewasbarefooted;hegaveheryarnandknitting-needlesthatshemightmakestockings.Andhemadeshoesforthisunfortunategirlhimself,withenormousnails.Heteachesherversesthatareeasytounderstand.Heisafraidofalteringhermoralbeautybytakingheroutoftheshamewhereshelivesinperfectsimplicityandadmirabledestitution."

LeMenilshruggedhisshoulders.


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"ButthatChouletteiscrazy,andPaulVencehasnorighttotellyousuchstories.Iamnotaustere,assuredly;butthereareimmoralitiesthatdisgustme."Theywerewalkingatrandom.Shefellintoadream.

"Yes,morality,Iknow--duty!Butduty--ittakesthedeviltodiscoverit.IcanassureyouthatIdonotknowwheredutyis.It'slikeayounglady'sturtleatJoinville.Wespentalltheeveninglookingforitunderthefurniture,andwhenwehadfoundit,wewenttobed."

Hethoughttherewassometruthinwhatshesaid.Hewouldthinkaboutitwhenalone.

"IregretsometimesthatIdidnotremaininthearmy.Iknowwhatyouaregoingtosay--onebecomesabruteinthatprofession.Doubtless,butoneknowsexactlywhatonehastodo,andthatisagreatdealinlife.Ithinkthatmyuncle'slifeisverybeautifulandveryagreeable.Butnowthateverybodyisinthearmy,thereareneitherofficersnorsoldiers.ItalllookslikearailwaystationonSunday.Myuncleknewpersonallyalltheofficersandallthesoldiersofhisbrigade.Nowadays,howcanyouexpectanofficertoknowhismen?"

Shehadceasedtolisten.Shewaslookingatawomansellingfriedpotatoes.Sherealizedthatshewashungryandwishedtoeatfriedpotatoes.

Heremonstrated:

"Nobodyknowshowtheyarecooked."

Buthehadtobuytwosous'worthoffriedpotatoes,andtoseethatthewomanputsaltonthem.

WhileTheresewaseatingthem,heledherintodesertedstreetsfarfromthegaslights.Soontheyfoundthemselvesinfrontofthecathedral.Themoonsilveredtheroofs.

"NotreDame,"shesaid."See,itisasheavyasanelephantyetas

delicateasaninsect.Themoonclimbsoveritandlooksatitwithamonkey'smaliciousness.ShedoesnotlooklikethecountrymoonatJoinville.AtJoinvilleIhaveapath--aflatpath--withthemoonattheendofit.Sheisnotthereeverynight;butshereturnsfaithfully,full,red,familiar.Sheisacountryneighbor.Igoseriouslytomeether.ButthismoonofParisIshouldnotliketoknow.Sheisnotrespectablecompany.Oh,thethingsthatshehasseenduringthetimeshehasbeenroamingaroundtheroofs!"

Hesmiledatendersmile.

"Oh,yourlittlepathwhereyouwalkedaloneandthatyoulikedbecausetheskywasattheendofit!IseeitasifIwerethere."

ItwasattheJoinvillecastlethathehadseenherforthefirsttime,andhadatoncelovedher.Itwasthere,onenight,thathehadtoldherofhislove,towhichshehadlistened,dumb,withapainedexpressiononhermouthandavaguelookinhereyes.

Thereminiscenceofthislittlepathwhereshewalkedalonemovedhim,troubledhim,madehimliveagaintheenchantedhoursofhisfirstdesiresandhopes.Hetriedtofindherhandinhermuffandpressedherslimwristunderthefur.


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Alittlegirlcarryingvioletssawthattheywerelovers,andofferedflowerstothem.Heboughtatwo-sous'bouquetandofferedittoTherese.

Shewaswalkingtowardthecathedral.Shewasthinking:"Itislikeanenormousbeast--abeastoftheApocalypse."

Attheotherendofthebridgeaflower-woman,wrinkled,bearded,graywithyearsanddust,followedthemwithherbasketfullofmimosasandroses.Therese,whoheldhervioletsandwastryingtoslipthemintoherwaist,said,joyfully:

"Thankyou,Ihavesome."

"Onecanseethatyouareyoung,"theoldwomanshoutedwithawickedair,asshewentaway.

Thereseunderstoodatonce,andasmilecametoherlipsandeyes.Theywerepassingneartheporch,beforethestonefiguresthatwearsceptresandcrowns.

"Letusgoin,"shesaid.

Hedidnotwishtogoin.Hedeclaredthatthedoorwasclosed.Shepushedit,andslippedintotheimmensenave,wheretheinanimatetreesofthecolumnsascendedindarkness.Intherear,candlesweremovinginfrontofspectre-likepriests,underthelastreverberationsoftheorgans.Shetrembledinthesilence,andsaid:

"Thesadnessofchurchesatnightmovesme;Ifeelinthemthegrandeurofnothingness."

Hereplied:

"Wemustbelieveinsomething.IftherewerenoGod,ifoursoulswerenotimmortal,itwouldbetoosad."

Sheremainedforawhileimmovableunderthecurtainsofshadowhangingfromthearches.Thenshesaid:

"Mypoorfriend,wedonotknowwhattodowiththislife,whichissoshort,andyetyoudesireanotherlifewhichshallneverfinish."

Inthecarriagethattookthembackhesaidgaylythathehadpassedafineafternoon.Hekissedher,satisfiedwithherandwithhimself.Buthisgood-humorwasnotcommunicatedtoher.Thelastmomentstheypassedtogetherwerespoiledforheralwaysbythepresentimentthathewouldnotsayatpartingthethingthatheshouldsay.Ordinarily,hequittedherbrusquely,asifwhathadhappenedwerenottolast.At

everyoneoftheirpartingsshehadaconfusedfeelingthattheywerepartingforever.Shesufferedfromthisinadvanceandbecameirritable.

Underthetreeshetookherhandandkissedher.

"Isitnotrare,Therese,toloveasweloveeachother?"

"Rare?Idon'tknow;butIthinkthatyouloveme."

"Andyou?"


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"I,too,loveyou."

"Andyouwilllovemealways?"

"Whatdoesoneeverknow?"

Andseeingthefaceofherloverdarken:

"Wouldyoubemorecontentwithawomanwhowouldsweartoloveonlyyouforalltime?"

Heremainedanxious,withawretchedair.Shewaskindandshereassuredhim:

"Youknowverywell,myfriend,thatIamnotfickle."

Almostattheendofthelanetheysaidgood-by.HekeptthecarriagetoreturntotheRueRoyale.Hewastodineattheclubandgotothetheatre,andhadnotimetolose.

Theresereturnedhomeonfoot.OppositetheTrocaderosherememberedwhattheoldflower-womanhadsaid:"Onecanseethatyouareyoung."Thewordscamebacktoherwithasignificancenotimmoralbutsad."One

canseethatyouareyoung!"Yes,shewasyoung,shewasloved,andshewasboredtodeath.

CHAPTERIII

ADISCUSSIONONTHELITTLECORPORAL

Inthecentreofthetableflowersweredisposedinabasketofgildedbronze,decoratedwitheagles,stars,andbees,andhandlesformedlikehornsofplenty.OnitssideswingedVictoryssupportedthebranchesof

candelabra.ThiscentrepieceoftheEmpirestylehadbeengivenbyNapoleon,in1812,toCountMartindel'Aisne,grandfatherofthepresentCountMartin-Belleme.Martindel'Aisne,adeputytotheLegislativeCorpsin1809,wasappointedthefollowingyearmemberoftheCommitteeonFinance,theassiduousandsecretworksofwhichsuitedhislaborioustemperament.AlthoughaLiberal,hepleasedtheEmperorbyhisapplicationandhisexacthonesty.Fortwoyearshewasunderarainoffavors.In1813heformedpartofthemoderatemajoritywhichapprovedthereportinwhichLainecensuredpowerandmisfortune,bygivingtotheEmpiretardyadvice.January1,1814,hewentwithhiscolleaguestotheTuileries.TheEmperorreceivedtheminaterrifyingmanner.Hechargedontheirranks.Violentandsombre,inthehorrorofhispresentstrengthandofhiscomingfall,hestunnedthemwithhisanger

andhiscontempt.

Hecameandwentthroughtheirlines,andsuddenlytookCountMartinbytheshoulders,shookhimanddraggedhim,exclaiming:"Athroneisfourpiecesofwoodcoveredwithvelvet?No!Athroneisaman,andthatmanisI.Youhavetriedtothrowmudatme.IsthisthetimetoremonstratewithmewhentherearetwohundredthousandCossacksatthefrontiers?YourLaineisawickedman.Oneshouldwashone'sdirtylinenathome."Andwhileinhisangerhetwistedinhishandtheembroideredcollarofthedeputy,hesaid:"Thepeopleknowme.Theydo


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notknowyou.Iamtheelectofthenation.Youaretheobscuredelegatesofadepartment."HepredictedtothemthefateoftheGirondins.Thenoiseofhisspursaccompaniedthesoundofhisvoice.CountMartinremainedtremblingtherestofhislife,andtremblinglyrecalledtheBourbonsafterthedefeatoftheEmperor.Thetworestorationswereinvain;theJulygovernmentandtheSecondEmpirecoveredhisoppressedbreastwithcrossesandcordons.Raisedtothehighestfunctions,loadedwithhonorsbythreekingsandoneemperor,hefeltforeveronhisshoulderthehandoftheCorsican.HediedasenatorofNapoleonIII,andleftasonagitatedbythesamefear.

ThissonhadmarriedMademoiselleBelleme,daughterofthefirstpresidentofthecourtofBourges,andwithherthepoliticalgloriesofafamilywhichgavethreeministerstothemoderatemonarch.TheBellemes,advocatesinthetimeofLouisXV,elevatedtheJacobinoriginsoftheMartins.ThesecondCountMartinwasamemberofalltheAssembliesuntilhisdeathin1881.HissontookwithouttroublehisseatintheChamberofDeputies.HavingmarriedMademoiselleThereseMontessuy,whosedowrysupportedhispoliticalfortune,heappeareddiscreetlyamongthefourorfivebourgeois,titledandwealthy,whoralliedtodemocracy,andwerereceivedwithoutmuchbadgracebytherepublicans,whomaristocracyflattered.

Inthedining-room,CountMartin-Bellemewasdoingthehonorsofhis

tablewiththegoodgrace,thesadpoliteness,recentlyprescribedattheElyseetorepresentisolatedFranceatagreatnortherncourt.FromtimetotimeheaddressedvapidphrasestoMadameGarainathisright;tothePrincessSeniavineathisleft,who,loadedwithdiamonds,feltbored.Oppositehim,ontheothersideofthetable,CountessMartin,havingbyhersideGeneralLariviereandM.Schmoll,memberoftheAcademiedesInscriptions,caressedwithherfanhersmoothwhiteshoulders.Atthetwosemicircles,wherebythedinner-tablewasprolonged,wereM.Montessuy,robust,withblueeyesandruddycomplexion;ayoungcousin,MadameBellemedeSaint-Nom,embarrassedbyherlong,thinarms;thepainterDuviquet;M.DanielSalomon;thenPaulVenceandGarainthedeputy;BellemedeSaint-Nom;anunknownsenator;andDechartre,whowasdiningatthehouseforthefirsttime.Theconversation,atfirst

trivialandinsignificant,wasprolongedintoaconfusedmurmur,abovewhichroseGarain'svoice:

"Everyfalseideaisdangerous.Peoplethinkthatdreamersdonoharm.Theyaremistaken:dreamersdoagreathealofharm.Evenapparentlyinoffensiveutopianideasreallyexerciseanoxiousinfluence.Theytendtoinspiredisgustatreality."

"Itis,perhaps,becauserealityisnotbeautiful,"saidPaulVence.

M.Garainsaidthathehadalwaysbeeninfavorofallpossibleimprovements.HehadaskedforthesuppressionofpermanentarmiesinthetimeoftheEmpire,fortheseparationofchurchandstate,andhad

remainedalwaysfaithfultodemocracy.Hisdevice,hesaid,was"OrderandProgress."Hethoughthehaddiscoveredthatdevice.

Montessuysaid:

"Well,MonsieurGarain,besincere.Confessthattherearenoreformstobemade,andthatitisasmuchasonecandotochangethecolorofpostage-stamps.Goodorbad,thingsareastheyshouldbe.Yes,thingsareastheyshouldbe;buttheychangeincessantly.Since1870theindustrialandfinancialsituationofthecountryhasgonethroughfour


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orfiverevolutionswhichpoliticaleconomistshadnotforeseenandwhichtheydonotyetunderstand.Insociety,asinnature,transformationsareaccomplishedfromwithin."

Astomattersofgovernmenthisideaswereterseanddecided.Hewasstronglyattachedtothepresent,heedlessofthefuture,andthesocialiststroubledhimlittle.Withoutcaringwhetherthesunandcapitalshouldbeextinguishedsomeday,heenjoyedthem.Accordingtohim,oneshouldlethimselfbecarried.Nonebutfoolsresistedthecurrentortriedtogoinfrontofit.

ButCountMartin,naturallysad,had,darkpresentiments.Inveiledwordsheannouncedcatastrophes.Histimorousphrasescamethroughtheflowers,andirritatedM.Schmoll,whobegantogrumbleandtoprophesy.HeexplainedthatChristiannationswereincapable,aloneandbythemselves,ofthrowingoffbarbarism,andthatwithouttheJewsandtheArabsEuropewouldbeto-day,asinthetimeoftheCrusades,sunkinignorance,misery,andcruelty.

"TheMiddleAges,"hesaid,"areclosedonlyinthehistoricalmanualsthataregiventopupilstospoiltheirminds.Inreality,barbariansarealwaysbarbarians.Israel'smissionistoinstructnations.ItwasIsraelwhich,intheMiddleAges,broughttoEuropethewisdomofages.Socialismfrightensyou.ItisaChristianevil,likepriesthood.And

anarchy?DoyounotrecognizeinittheplagueoftheAlbigeoisandoftheVaudois?TheJews,whoinstructedandpolishedEurope,aretheonlyoneswhocansaveitto-dayfromtheevangelicalevilbywhichitisdevoured.Buttheyhavenotfulfilledtheirduty.TheyhavemadeChristiansofthemselvesamongtheChristians.AndGodpunishesthem.Hepermitsthemtobeexiledandtobedespoiled.Anti-Semitismismakingfearfulprogresseverywhere.FromRussiamyco-religionistsareexpelledlikesavagebeasts.InFrance,civilandmilitaryemploymentsareclosingagainstJews.Theyhavenolongeraccesstoaristocraticcircles.Mynephew,youngIsaacCoblentz,hashadtorenounceadiplomaticcareer,afterpassingbrilliantlyhisadmissionexamination.Thewivesofseveralofmycolleagues,whenMadameSchmollcallsonthem,displaywithintention,underhereyes,anti-Semiticnewspapers.And

wouldyoubelievethattheMinisterofPublicInstructionhasrefusedtogivemethecrossoftheLegionofHonorforwhichIhaveapplied?There'singratitude!Anti-Semitismisdeath--itisdeath,doyouhear?toEuropeancivilization."

Thelittlemanhadanaturalmannerwhichsurpassedalltheartintheworld.Grotesqueandterrible,hethrewthetableintoconsternationbyhissincerity.MadameMartin,whomheamused,complimentedhimonthis:

"Atleast,"shesaid,"youdefendyourco-religionists.Youarenot,MonsieurSchmoll,likeabeautifulJewishladyofmyacquaintancewho,havingreadinajournalthatshereceivedtheeliteofJewishsociety,wenteverywhereshoutingthatshehadbeeninsulted."

"Iamsure,Madame,thatyoudonotknowhowbeautifulandsuperiortoallothermoralitiesisJewishmorality.Doyouknowtheparableofthethreerings?"

Thisquestionwaslostinthemurmurofthedialogueswhereinweremingledforeignpolitics,exhibitionsofpaintings,fashionablescandals,andAcademyspeeches.Theytalkedofthenewnovelandofthecomingplay.Thiswasacomedy.Napoleonwasanincidentalcharacterinit.


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TheconversationsettleduponNapoleonI,oftenplacedonthestageandnewlystudiedinbooks--anobjectofcuriosity,apersonageinthefashion,nolongerapopularhero,ademi-god,wearingbootsforhiscountry,asinthedayswhenNorvinsandBeranger,CharletandRaffetwerecomposinghislegend;butacuriouspersonage,anamusingtypeinhislivinginfinity,afigurewhosestyleispleasanttoartists,whosemovementsattractthoughtlessidlers.

Garain,whohadfoundedhispoliticalfortuneonhatredoftheEmpire,judgedsincerelythatthisreturnofnationaltastewasonlyanabsurdinfatuation.Hesawnodangerinitandfeltnofearaboutit.Inhimfearwassuddenandferocious.Forthemomenthewasveryquiet;hetalkedneitherofprohibitingperformancesnorofseizingbooks,ofimprisoningauthors,orofsuppressinganything.Calmandsevere,hesawinNapoleononlyTaine's'condottiere'whokickedVolneyinthestomach.EverybodywishedtodefinethetrueNapoleon.CountMartin,inthefaceoftheimperialcentrepieceandofthewingedVictorys,talkedsuitablyofNapoleonasanorganizerandadministrator,andplacedhiminahighpositionaspresidentofthestatecouncil,wherehiswordsthrewlightuponobscurequestions.Garainaffirmedthatinhissessions,onlytoofamous,Napoleon,underpretextoftakingsnuff,askedthecouncillorstopasstohimtheirgoldboxesornamentedwithminiaturesanddeckedwithdiamonds,whichtheyneversawagain.TheanecdotewastoldtohimbythesonofMounierhimself.

MontessuyesteemedinNapoleonthegeniusoforder."Heliked,"hesaid,"workwelldone.Thatisatastemostpersonshavelost."

ThepainterDuviquet,whoseideaswerethoseofanartist,wasembarrassed.HedidnotfindonthefuneralmaskbroughtfromSt.Helenathecharacteristicsofthatface,beautifulandpowerful,whichmedalsandbustshaveconsecrated.Onemustbeconvincedofthisnowthatthebronzeofthatmaskwashanginginalltheoldshops,amongeaglesandsphinxesmadeofgildedwood.And,accordingtohim,sincethetruefaceofNapoleonwasnotthatoftheidealNapoleon,hisrealsoulmaynothavebeenasidealistsfanciedit.Perhapsitwasthesoulofagoodbourgeois.Somebodyhadsaidthis,andhewasinclinedto

thinkthatitwastrue.Anyway,Duviquet,whoflatteredhimselfwithhavingmadethebestportraitsofthecentury,knewthatcelebratedmenseldomresembletheideasoneformsofthem.

M.DanielSalomonobservedthatthefinemaskaboutwhichDuviquettalked,theplastercasttakenfromtheinanimatefaceoftheEmperor,andbroughttoEuropebyDr.Antommarchi,hadbeenmouldedinbronzeandsoldbysubscriptionforthefirsttimein1833,underLouisPhilippe,andhadtheninspiredsurpriseandmistrust.PeoplesuspectedtheItalianchemist,whowasasortofbuffoon,alwaystalkativeandfamished,ofhavingtriedtomakefunofpeople.DisciplesofDr.Gall,whosesystemwastheninfavor,regardedthemaskassuspicious.Theydidnotfindinitthebumpsofgenius;andtheforehead,examinedin

accordancewiththemaster'stheories,presentednothingremarkableinitsformation.

"Precisely,"saidPrincessSeniavine."NapoleonwasremarkableonlyforhavingkickedVolneyinthestomachandstealingasnuffboxornamentedwithdiamonds.MonsieurGarainhasjusttaughtus."

"Andyet,"saidMadameMartin,"nobodyissurethathekickedVolney."

"Everythingbecomesknownintheend,"repliedthePrincess,gayly.


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"Napoleondidnothingatall.HedidnotevenkickVolney,andhisheadwasthatofanidiot."

GeneralLarivierefeltthatheshouldsaysomething.Hehurledthisphrase:

"Napoleon--hiscampaignof1813ismuchdiscussed."

TheGeneralwishedtopleaseGarain,andhehadnootheridea.However,hesucceeded,afteraneffort,informulatingajudgment:

"Napoleoncommittedfaults;inhissituationheshouldnothavecommittedany."Andhestoppedabruptly,veryred.

MadameMartinasked:

"Andyou,MonsieurVence,whatdoyouthinkofNapoleon?"

"Madame,Ihavenotmuchloveforsword-bearers,andconquerorsseemtometobedangerousfools.Butinspiteofeverything,thatfigureoftheEmperorinterestsmeasitintereststhepublic.Ifindcharacterandlifeinit.ThereisnopoemornovelthatisworththeMemoirsofSaintHelena,althoughitiswritteninridiculousfashion.WhatIthinkofNapoleon,ifyouwishtoknow,isthat,madeforglory,hehadthe

brilliantsimplicityoftheheroofanepicpoem.Aheromustbehuman.Napoleonwashuman."

"Oh,oh!"everyoneexclaimed.

ButPaulVencecontinued:

"Hewasviolentandfrivolous;thereforeprofoundlyhuman.Imean,similartoeverybody.Hedesired,withsingularforce,allthatmostmenesteemanddesire.Hehadillusions,whichhegavetothepeople.Thiswashispowerandhisweakness;itwashisbeauty.Hebelievedinglory.Hehadoflifeandoftheworldthesameopinionasanyoneofhisgrenadiers.Heretainedalwaystheinfantilegravitywhichfinds

pleasureinplayingwithswordsanddrums,andthesortofinnocencewhichmakesgoodmilitarymen.Heesteemedforcesincerely.Hewasamanamongmen,thefleshofhumanflesh.Hehadnotathoughtthatwasnotinaction,andallhisactionsweregrandyetcommon.Itisthisvulgargrandeurwhichmakesheroes.AndNapoleonistheperfecthero.Hisbrainneversurpassedhishand--thathand,smallandbeautiful,whichgraspedtheworld.Heneverhad,foramoment,theleastcareforwhathecouldnotreach."

"Then,"saidGarain,"accordingtoyou,hewasnotanintellectualgenius.Iamofyouropinion."

"Surely,"continuedPaulVence,"hehadenoughgeniustobebrilliantin

thecivilandmilitaryarenaoftheworld.Buthehadnotspeculativegenius.Thatgeniusisanotherpairofsleeves,asBuffonsays.Wehaveacollectionofhiswritingsandspeeches.Hisstylehasmovementandimagination.Andinthismassofthoughtsonecannotfindaphilosophiccuriosity,notoneexpressionofanxietyabouttheunknowable,notanexpressionoffearofthemysterywhichsurroundsdestiny.AtSaintHelena,whenhetalksofGodandofthesoul,heseemstobealittlefourteen-year-oldschool-boy.Thrownupontheworld,hismindfounditselffitfortheworld,andembraceditall.Nothingofthatmindwaslostintheinfinite.Himselfapoet,heknewonlythepoetryofaction.


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Helimitedtotheearthhispowerfuldreamoflife.Inhisterribleandtouchingnaivetehebelievedthatamancouldbegreat,andneithertimenormisfortunemadehimlosethatidea.Hisyouth,orratherhissublimeadolescence,lastedaslongashelived,becauselifeneverbroughthimarealmaturity.Suchistheabnormalstateofmenofaction.Theyliveentirelyinthepresent,andtheirgeniusconcentratesononepoint.Thehoursoftheirexistencearenotconnectedbyachainofgraveanddisinterestedmeditations.Theysucceedthemselvesinaseriesofacts.Theylackinteriorlife.ThisdefectisparticularlyvisibleinNapoleon,whoneverlivedwithinhimself.Fromthisisderivedthefrivolityoftemperamentwhichmadehimsupporteasilytheenormousloadofhisevilsandofhisfaults.Hismindwasbornaneweveryday.Hehad,morethananyotherperson,acapacityfordiversion.ThefirstdaythathesawthesunriseonhisfunerealrockatSaintHelena,hejumpedfromhisbed,whistlingaromanticair.Itwasthepeaceofamindsuperiortofortune;itwasthefrivolityofamindpromptinresurrection.Helivedfromtheoutside."

Garain,whodidnotlikePaulVence'singeniousturnofwitandlanguage,triedtohastentheconclusion:

"Inaword,"hesaid,"therewassomethingofthemonsterintheman."

"Therearenomonsters,"repliedPaulVence;"andmenwhopassfor

monstersinspirehorror.Napoleonwaslovedbyanentirepeople.Hehadthepowertowintheloveofmen.Thejoyofhissoldierswastodieforhim."

CountessMartinwouldhavewishedDechartretogivehisopinion.Butheexcusedhimselfwithasortoffright.

"Doyouknow,"saidSchmollagain,"theparableofthethreerings,sublimeinspirationofaPortugueseJew."

Garain,whilecomplimentingPaulVenceonhisbrilliantparadox,regrettedthatwitshouldbeexercisedattheexpenseofmoralityandjustice.

"Onegreatprinciple,"hesaid,"isthatmenshouldbejudgedbytheiracts."

"Andwomen?"askedPrincessSeniavine,brusquely;"doyoujudgethembytheiracts?Andhowdoyouknowwhattheydo?"

Thesoundofvoiceswasmingledwiththecleartintinabulationofsilverware.Awarmairbathedtheroom.Therosesshedtheirleavesonthecloth.Moreardentthoughtsmountedtothebrain.

GeneralLarivierefellintodreams.

"Whenpublicclamorhassplitmyears,"hesaidtohisneighbor,"IshallgotoliveatTours.Ishallcultivateflowers."

Heflatteredhimselfonbeingagoodgardener;hisnamehadbeengiventoarose.Thispleasedhimhighly.

Schmollaskedagainiftheyknewtheparableofthethreerings.

ThePrincessralliedtheDeputy.


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"Thenyoudonotknow,MonsieurGarain,thatonedoesthesamethingsforverydifferentreasons?"

Montessuysaidshewasright.

"Itisverytrue,asyousay,Madame,thatactionsprovenothing.ThisthoughtisstrikinginanepisodeinthelifeofDonJuan,whichwasknownneithertoMolierenortoMozart,butwhichisrevealedinanEnglishlegend,aknowledgeofwhichIowetomyfriendJamesRussellLowellofLondon.Onelearnsfromitthatthegreatseducerlosthistimewiththreewomen.Onewasabourgeoise:shewasinlovewithherhusband;theotherwasanun:shewouldnotconsenttoviolatehervows;thethird,whohadforalongtimeledalifeofdebauchery,hadbecomeugly,andwasaservantinaden.Afterwhatshehaddone,afterwhatshehadseen,lovesignifiednothingtoher.Thesethreewomenbehavedalikeforverydifferentreasons.Anactionprovesnothing.Itisthemassofactions,theirweight,theirsumtotal,whichmakesthevalueofthehumanbeing."

"Someofouractions,"saidMadameMartin,"haveourlook,ourface:theyareourdaughters.Othersdonotresembleusatall."

SheroseandtooktheGeneral'sarm.

Onthewaytothedrawing-roomthePrincesssaid:

"Thereseisright.Someactionsdonotexpressourrealselvesatall.Theyarelikethethingswedoinnightmares."

Thenymphsofthetapestriessmiledvainlyintheirfadedbeautyattheguests,whodidnotseethem.

MadameMartinservedthecoffeewithheryoungcousin,MadameBellemedeSaint-Nom.ShecomplimentedPaulVenceonwhathehadsaidatthetable.

"YoutalkedofNapoleonwithafreedomofmindthatisrareintheconversationsIhear.Ihavenoticedthatchildren,whentheyare

handsome,look,whentheypout,likeNapoleonatWaterloo.Youhavemademefeeltheprofoundreasonsforthissimilarity."

Then,turningtowardDechartre:

"DoyoulikeNapoleon?"

"Madame,IdonotliketheRevolution.AndNapoleonistheRevolutioninboots."

"MonsieurDechartre,whydidyounotsaythisatdinner?ButIseeyouprefertobewittyonlyintete-a-tetes."

CountMartin-Bellemeescortedthementothesmoking-room.PaulVencealoneremainedwiththewomen.PrincessSeniavineaskedhimifhehadfinishedhisnovel,andwhatwasthesubjectofit.Itwasastudyinwhichhetriedtoreachthetruththroughaseriesofplausibleconditions.

"Thus,"hesaid,"thenovelacquiresamoralforcewhichhistory,initsheavyfrivolity,neverhad."

Sheinquiredwhetherthebookwaswrittenforwomen.Hesaiditwasnot.


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"Youarewrong,MonsieurVence,nottowriteforwomen.Asuperiormancandonothingelseforthem."

Hewishedtoknowwhatgaveherthatidea.

"BecauseIseethatalltheintelligentwomenlovefools."

"Whoborethem."

"Certainly!Butsuperiormenwouldwearythemmore.Theywouldhavemoreresourcestoemployinboringthem.Buttellmethesubjectofyournovel."

"Doyouinsist?"

"Oh,Iinsistuponnothing."

"Well,Iwilltellyou.Itisastudyofpopularmanners;thehistoryofayoungworkman,soberandchaste,ashandsomeasagirl,withthemindofavirgin,asensitivesoul.Heisacarver,andworkswell.Atnight,nearhismother,whomheloves,hestudies,hereadsbooks.Inhismind,simpleandreceptive,ideaslodgethemselveslikebulletsinawall.Hehasnodesires.Hehasneitherthepassionsnorthevicesthat

attachustolife.Heissolitaryandpure.Endowedwithstrongvirtues,hebecomesconceited.Helivesamongmiserablepeople.Heseessuffering.Hehasdevotionwithouthumanity.Hehasthatsortofcoldcharitywhichiscalledaltruism.Heisnothumanbecauseheisnotsensual."

"Oh!Onemustbesensualtobehuman?"

"Certainly,Madame.Truepity,liketenderness,comesfromtheheart.Heisnotintelligentenoughtodoubt.Hebelieveswhathehasread.Andhehasreadthattoestablishuniversalhappinesssocietymustbedestroyed.Thirstformartyrdomdevourshim.Onemorning,havingkissedhismother,hegoesout;hewatchesforthesocialistdeputyofhis

district,seeshim,throwshimselfonhim,andburiesaponiardinhisbreast.Longliveanarchy!Heisarrested,measured,photographed,questioned,judged,condemnedtodeath,andguillotined.Thatismynovel."

"Itisnotveryamusing,"saidthePrincess;"butthatisnotyourfault.YouranarchistsareastimidandmoderateasotherFrenchmen.TheRussianshavemoreaudacityandmoreimagination."

CountessMartinaskedPaulVencewhetherheknewasilent,timid-lookingmanamongtheguests.Herhusbandhadinvitedhim.Sheknewnothingofhim,notevenhisname.PaulVencecouldonlysaythathewasasenator.HehadseenhimonedaybychanceintheLuxembourg,inthegallerythat

servedasalibrary.

"Iwenttheretolookatthecupola,whereDelacroixhaspainted,inawoodofbluishmyrtles,heroesandsagesofantiquity.Thatgentlemanwasthere,withthesamewretchedandpitifulair.Hiscoatwasdampandhewaswarminghimself.Hewastalkingwitholdcolleaguesandsaying,whilerubbinghishands:'TheproofthattheRepublicisthebestofgovernmentsisthatin1871itcouldkillinaweeksixtythousandinsurgentswithoutbecomingunpopular.Aftersucharepressionanyotherregimewouldhavebeenimpossible.'"


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"Heisaverywickedman,"saidMadameMartin."AndtothinkthatIwaspityinghim!"

MadameGarain,herchinsoftlydroppedonherchest,sleptinthepeaceofherhousewifelymind,anddreamedofhervegetablegardenonthebanksoftheLoire,wheresinging-societiescametoserenadeher.

JosephSchmollandGeneralLarivierecameoutofthesmoking-room.TheGeneraltookaseatbetweenPrincessSeniavineandMadameMartin.

"Imetthismorning,inthepark,BaronneWarburg,mountedonamagnificenthorse.Shesaid,'General,howdoyoumanagetohavesuchfinehorses?'Ireplied:Madame,tohavefinehorses,youmustbeeitherverywealthyorveryclever.'"

Hewassowellsatisfiedwithhisreplythatherepeatedittwice.

PaulVencecamenearCountessMartin:

"Iknowthatsenator'sname:itisLyer.Heisthevice-presidentofapoliticalsociety,andauthorofabookentitled,TheCrimeofDecemberSecond."

TheGeneralcontinued:

"Theweatherwashorrible.IwentintoahutandfoundLeMenilthere.Iwasinabadhumor.Hewasmakingfunofme,Isaw,becauseIsoughtshelter.HeimaginesthatbecauseIamageneralImustlikewindandsnow.Hesaidthathelikedbadweather,andthathewastogofoxhuntingwithfriendsnextweek."

Therewasapause;theGeneralcontinued:

"Iwishhimmuchjoy,butIdon'tenvyhim.Foxhuntingisnotagreeable."

"Butitisuseful,"saidMontessuy.

TheGeneralshruggedhisshoulders.

"Foxesaredangerousforchicken-coopsinthespringwhenthefowlshavetofeedtheirfamilies."

"Foxesareslypoachers,whodolessharmtofarmersthantohunters.Iknowsomethingofthis."

TheresewasnotlisteningtothePrincess,whowastalkingtoher.Shewasthinking:

"Hedidnottellmethathewasgoingaway!"

"Ofwhatareyouthinking,dear?"inquiredthePrincess.

"Ofnothinginteresting,"Theresereplied.

CHAPTERIV


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THEENDOFADREAM

Inthelittleshadowyroom,wheresoundwasdeadenedbycurtains,portieres,cushions,bearskins,andcarpetsfromtheOrient,thefirelightshoneonglitteringswordshangingamongthefadedfavorsofthecotillonsofthreewinters.Therosewoodchiffonierwassurmountedbyasilvercup,aprizefromsomesportingclub.Onaporcelainplaque,inthecentreofthetable,stoodacrystalvasewhichheldbranchesofwhitelilacs;andlightspalpitatedinthewarmshadows.ThereseandRobert,theireyesaccustomedtoobscurity,movedeasilyamongthesefamiliarobjects.Helightedacigarettewhileshearrangedherhair,standingbeforethemirror,inacornersodimshecouldhardlyseeherself.ShetookpinsfromthelittleBohemianglasscupstandingonthetable,whereshehadkeptitforthreeyears.Helookedather,passingherlightfingersquicklythroughthegoldripplesofherhair,whileherface,hardenedandbronzedbytheshadow,tookonamysteriousexpression.Shedidnotspeak.

Hesaidtoher:

"Youarenotcrossnow,mydear?"

And,asheinsisteduponhavingananswer,shesaid:

"Whatdoyouwishmetosay,myfriend?IcanonlyrepeatwhatIsaidatfirst.IthinkitstrangethatIhavetolearnofyourprojectsfromGeneralLariviere."

Heknewverywellthatshehadnotforgivenhim;thatshehadremainedcoldandreservedtowardhim.Butheaffectedtothinkthatsheonlypouted.

"Mydear,Ihaveexplainedittoyou.IhavetoldyouthatwhenImetLariviereIhadjustreceivedaletterfromCaumont,recallingmypromisetohuntthefoxinhiswoods,andIrepliedbyreturnpost.Imeanttotellyouaboutitto-day.IamsorrythatGeneralLarivieretoldyou

first,buttherewasnosignificanceinthat."

Herarmswereliftedlikethehandlesofavase.Sheturnedtowardhimaglancefromhertranquileyes,whichhedidnotunderstand.

"Thenyouaregoing?"

"Nextweek,TuesdayorWednesday.Ishallbeawayonlytendaysatmost."

Sheputonhersealskintoque,ornamentedwithabranchofholly.

"Isitsomethingthatyoucannotpostpone?"

"Oh,yes.Fox-skinswouldnotbeworthanythinginamonth.Moreover,Caumonthasinvitedgoodfriendsofmine,whowouldregretmyabsence."

Fixinghertoqueonherheadwithalongpin,shefrowned.

"Isfox-huntinginteresting?"

"Oh,yes,very.Thefoxhasstratagemsthatonemustfathom.Theintelligenceofthatanimalisreallymarvellous.Ihaveobservedat


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nightafoxhuntingarabbit.Hehadorganizedarealhunt.Iassureyouitisnoteasytodislodgeafox.Caumonthasanexcellentcellar.Idonotcareforit,butitisgenerallyappreciated.Iwillbringyouhalfadozenskins."

"Whatdoyouwishmetodowiththem?"

"Oh,youcanmakerugsofthem."

"Andyouwillbehuntingeightdays?"

"Notallthetime.Ishallvisitmyaunt,whoexpectsme.Lastyearatthistimetherewasadelightfulreunionatherhouse.Shehadwithherhertwodaughtersandherthreenieceswiththeirhusbands.Allfivewomenarepretty,gay,charming,andirreproachable.Ishallprobablyfindthematthebeginningofnextmonth,assembledformyaunt'sbirthday,andIshallremaintheretwodays."

"Myfriend,stayaslongasitmaypleaseyou.Ishouldbeinconsolableifyoushortenedonmyaccountasojournwhichissoagreeable."

"Butyou,Therese?"

"I,myfriend?Icantakecareofmyself."

Thefirewaslanguishing.Theshadowsweredeepeningbetweenthem.Shesaid,inadreamytone:

"Itistrue,however,thatitisneverprudenttoleaveawomanalone."

Hewentnearher,tryingtoseehereyesinthedarkness.Hetookherhand.

"Youloveme?"hesaid.

"Oh,IassureyouthatIdonotloveanotherbut--"

"Whatdoyoumean?"

"Nothing.Iamthinking--Iamthinkingthatweareseparatedallthroughthesummer;thatinwinteryoulivewithyourparentsandyourfriendshalfthetime;andthat,ifwearetoseesolittleofeachother,itisbetternottoseeeachotheratall."

Helightedthecandelabra.Hisfrank,hardfacewasilluminated.Helookedatherwithaconfidencethatcamelessfromtheconceitcommontoallloversthanfromhisnaturallackofdignity.Hebelievedinherthroughforceofeducationandsimplicityofintelligence.

"Therese,Iloveyou,andyouloveme,Iknow.Whydoyoutormentme?

Sometimesyouarepainfullyharsh."

Sheshookherlittleheadbrusquely.

"Whatwillyouhave?Iamharshandobstinate.Itisintheblood.Itakeitfrommyfather.YouknowJoinville;youhaveseenthecastle,theceilings,thetapestries,thegardens,thepark,thehunting-grounds,youhavesaidthatnonebetterwereinFrance;butyouhavenotseenmyfather'sworkshop--awhitewoodentableandamahoganybureau.Everythingaboutmehasitsoriginthere.Onthattablemyfathermade


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figuresforfortyyears;atfirstinalittleroom,thenintheapartmentwhereIwasborn.Wewerenotverywealthythen.Iamaparvenu'sdaughter,oraconqueror'sdaughter,it'sallthesame.Wearepeopleofmaterialinterests.Myfatherwantedtoearnmoney,topossesswhathecouldbuy--thatis,everything.Iwishtoearnandkeep--what?Idonotknow--thehappinessthatIhave--orthatIhavenot.Ihavemyownwayofbeingexacting.Ilongfordreamsandillusions.Oh,Iknowverywellthatallthisisnotworththetroublethatawomantakesingivingherselftoaman;butitisatroublethatisworthsomething,becausemytroubleismyself,mylife.IliketoenjoywhatIlike,orthinkwhatIlike.Idonotwishtolose.Iamlikepapa:Idemandwhatisduetome.Andthen--"

Sheloweredhervoice:

"Andthen,Ihave--impulses!Now,mydear,Iboreyou.Whatwillyouhave?Youshouldn'thavelovedme."

Thislanguage,towhichshehadaccustomedhim,oftenspoiledhispleasure.Butitdidnotalarmhim.Hewassensitivetoallthatshedid,butnotatalltowhatshesaid;andheattachednoimportancetoawoman'swords.Talkinglittlehimself,hecouldnotimaginethatoftenwordsarethesameasactions.

Althoughhelovedher,or,rather,becausehelovedherwithstrengthandconfidence,hethoughtithisdutytoresistherwhims,whichhejudgedabsurd.Wheneverheplayedthemaster,hesucceededwithher;and,naively,healwaysendedbyplayingit.

"Youknowverywell,Therese,thatIwishtodonothingexcepttobeagreeabletoyou.Don'tbecapriciouswithme."

"AndwhyshouldInotbecapricious?IfIgavemyselftoyou,itwasnotbecauseIwaslogical,norbecauseIthoughtImust.ItwasbecauseIwascapricious."

Helookedather,astonishedandsaddened.

"Thewordisnotpleasanttoyou,myfriend?Wellletussaythatitwaslove.Trulyitwas,withallmyheart,andbecauseIfeltthatyoulovedme.Butlovemustbeapleasure,andifIdonotfindinitthesatisfactionofwhatyoucallmycapriciousness,butwhichisreallymydesire,mylife,mylove,Idonotwantit;Iprefertolivealone.Youareastonishing!Mycaprices!Isthereanythingelseinlife?Yourfoxhunt,isn'tthatcapricious?"

Hereplied,verysincerely:

"IfIhadnotpromised,Isweartoyou,Therese,thatIwouldsacrificethatsmallpleasurewithgreatjoy."

Shefeltthathespokethetruth.Sheknewhowexacthewasinfillingthemosttriflingengagements,yetrealizedthatifsheinsistedhewouldnotgo.Butitwastoolate:shedidnotwishtowin.Shewouldseekhereafteronlytheviolentpleasureoflosing.Shepretendedtotakehisreasonseriously,andsaid:

"Ah,youhavepromised!"

Andsheaffectedtoyield.


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Surprisedatfirst,hecongratulatedhimselfatlastonhavingmadeherlistentoreason.Hewasgratefultoherfornothavingbeenstubborn.Heputhisarmaroundherwaistandkissedherontheneckandeyelidsasareward.Hesaid:

"WemaymeetthreeorfourtimesbeforeIgo,andmore,ifyouwish.Iwillwaitforyouasoftenasyouwishtocome.Willyoumeetmehereto-morrow?"

Shegaveherselfthesatisfactionofsayingthatshecouldnotcomethenextdaynoranyotherday.

Softlyshementionedthethingsthatpreventedher.

Theobstaclesseemedlight;calls,agowntobetriedon,acharityfair,exhibitions.Asshedilateduponthedifficultiestheyseemedtoincrease.Thecallscouldnotbepostponed;therewerethreefairs;theexhibitionswouldsoonclose.Infine,itwasimpossibleforhertoseehimagainbeforehisdeparture.

Ashewaswellaccustomedtomakingexcusesofthatsort,hefailedtoobservethatitwasnotnaturalforTheresetoofferthem.Embarrassedbythistissueofsocialobligations,hedidnotpersist,butremained

silentandunhappy.

Withherleftarmsheraisedtheportiere,placedherrighthandonthekeyofthedoor;and,standingagainsttherichbackgroundofthesapphireandruby-coloredfoldsoftheOrientaldraperies,sheturnedherheadtowardthefriendshewasleaving,andsaid,alittlemockingly,yetwithatouchoftragicemotion:

"Good-by,Robert.Enjoyyourself.Mycalls,myerrands,yourlittlevisitsarenothing.Lifeismadeupofjustsuchtrifles.Good-by!"

Shewentout.Hewouldhavelikedtoaccompanyher,buthemadeitapointnottoshowhimselfwithherinthestreet,unlesssheabsolutely

forcedhimtodoso.

Inthestreet,Theresefeltsuddenlythatshewasaloneintheworld,withoutjoyandwithoutpain.Shereturnedtoherhouseonfoot,aswasherhabit.Itwasnight;theairwasfrozen,clear,andtranquil.Buttheavenuesthroughwhichshewalked,inshadowsstuddedwithlights,envelopedherwiththatmildatmosphereofthequeenofcities,soagreeabletoitsinhabitants,whichmakesitselffelteveninthecoldofwinter.Shewalkedbetweenthelinesofhutsandoldhouses,remainsofthefield-daysofAuteuil,whichtallhousesinterruptedhereandthere.Thesesmallshops,thesemonotonouswindows,werenothingtoher.Yetshefeltthatshewasunderthemysteriousspellofthefriendshipofinanimatethings;anditseemedtoherthatthestones,thedoorsof

houses,thelightsbehindthewindowpanes,lookedkindlyuponher.Shewasalone,andshewishedtobealone.Thestepsshewastakingbetweenthetwohouseswhereinherhabitswerealmostequal,thestepsshehadtakensooften,to-dayseemedtoherirrevocable.Why?Whathadthatdaybrought?Notexactlyaquarrel.Andyetthewordsspokenthatdayhadleftasubtle,strange,persistentsting,whichwouldneverleaveher.Whathadhappened?Nothing.Andthatnothinghadeffacedeverything.Shehadasortofobscurecertaintythatshewouldneverreturntothatroomwhichhadsorecentlyenclosedthemostsecretanddearestphasesofherlife.ShehadlovedRobertwiththeseriousnessof


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anecessaryjoy.Madetobeloved,andveryreasonable,shehadnotlostintheabandonmentofherselfthatinstinctofreflection,thatnecessityforsecurity,whichwassostronginher.Shehadnotchosen:oneseldomchooses.Shehadnotallowedherselftobetakenatrandomandbysurprise.Shehaddonewhatshehadwishedtodo,asmuchasoneeverdoeswhatonewishestodoinsuchcases.Shehadnothingtoregret.Hehadbeentoherwhatitwashisdutytobe.Shefelt,inspiteofeverything,thatallwasatanend.Shethought,withdrysadness,thatthreeyearsofherlifehadbeengiventoanhonestmanwhohadlovedherandwhomshehadloved."ForIlovedhim.Imusthavelovedhiminordertogivemyselftohim."Butshecouldnotfeelagainthesentimentsofearlydays,themovementsofhermindwhenshehadyielded.Sherecalledsmallandinsignificantcircumstances:theflowersonthewall-paperandthepicturesintheroom.Sherecalledthewords,alittleridiculousandalmosttouching,thathehadsaidtoher.Butitseemedtoherthattheadventurehadoccurredtoanotherw

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Red Lily, the — Volume 01 by France, Anatole, 1844-1924

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