"She who knows how to win love needs no ancestors."
"She who knows how to win love needs no ancestors."
About three years had passed since the events we have described; a short, stout individual, enveloped in an ample redingoteà la propriétaire, in the pockets of which his hands were buried, was crossing Rue Vivienne about three in the afternoon. After glancing at the new books displayed in the shop of Ambroise Dupont et Cie, and admiring the fine edition of the poem,Napoléon en Egypte, by Messieurs Barthélemy and Méry, he went skipping along and was about to enter Passage Colbert, when he came into collision with a lady who was just coming therefrom.
This lady, whose manners were very free and easy, wore a pretty pink bonnet; she feared that, by running against her, the gentleman had disarranged it; she uttered an impatient exclamation and was about to rebuke him for his carelessness, when, happening to glance at him, she shouted with laughter, to which he replied by a cry of surprise:
"Why! I cannot be mistaken! it is the fascinating Fifine!"
"Well, well! it is Robineau! Ah! my dear friend, what a swell you have become in the three years since I saw you!"
"Still the same as ever! still amiable and piquant! What happy chance brings us together?"
"How does it happen that you dare to speak to me? For heaven’s sake, take care; you will attract attention! Suppose some of your swell friends, your princesses, should see you talking with me! Great heaven! what would they say? Skip away quick, for fear you may compromise yourself!"
"O Fifine! sarcasms! epigrams! to your old and always affectionate friend!"
"You see, I haven’t forgotten the way my old and affectionate friend dropped me when he inherited a fortune!"
"Ah! you judged me very ill, Fifine; on the contrary, it was you who lost your temper right away and refused to listen to me. You are so hotheaded! Why, I remember that you left me in the dark! That distressed me terribly; and if I had not been afraid of being received harshly, I would have laid my fortune at your feet the next day, for what I said to you was only said to test your disposition."
"It’s amazing how entirely I believe that!—But let us say no more about the past! You are well aware that all I ever cared for was to enjoy the present, without worrying about anything else; the result being, my dear fellow, that two days after your performance I gave you a successor; for you’re not the kind of a blade to inspire an incurable passion!"
"Don’t say such things, Fifine. Of course I might have guessed that another man would have touched your heart in three years."
"Another man! Well! you are generous!—Seven others, my dear friend—each more agreeable than the last, and blessed withvery comfortablephysiques.—I speak English now."
"Fifine, if you knew how you hurt me, you would not make such confessions—to me, who have always kept you in my heart!"
"Bah! don’t talk such nonsense! But I am very curious to know all you have been doing these three years. Give me your arm; can you do it without fear of consequences?"
"Yes, of course I can."
"Well! let us walk up and down the passage a while—I have until four o’clock—and tell me about it."
Robineau offered Fifine his arm with a sigh which made the milliner laugh; then he began his narrative.
"After we had our falling-out, I left Paris for the château I had bought——"
"You bought a château! Where, then?"
"In Auvergne."
"I should have preferred one at Belleville; it’s livelier there, specially now that they’ve got a pretty theatre like the one at the Rochechouart Barrier."
"Yes, I discovered myself that I should have done better to buy nothing more than a pretty country house.—However, I started for Auvergne; I took Alfred de Marcey and Edouard with me."
"Alfred! he’s the man at whose house monsieur got so drunk one night that I had to make tea and other preparations for him. God! how kind I was to that creature!"
"I have never forgotten it, Fifine!"
"No more has the cat!—But go on."
"I had a very fine château. Ah! it was magnificent! towers, galleries, apartments with Cupids on the ceiling!"
"Great heaven! and did you walk about dressed as Cupid?"
"Let me finish.—Unluckily, my château was not new. I made repairs. Then I married—in order to banish your memory. I married a marquis’s daughter, who was mad over me. I thought that I had made a superb marriage. But I had to marry the whole family: father, uncle and sister; I had them all in my house. My father-in-law, who was to obtain a lucrative position for me, obtained nothing at all. My wife turned all my servants away, and hired others who robbed us. My devilish château required constant repairs; when I had finished in one part, I had to begin on another! And Uncle Mignon, who had been appointed inspector-general of my establishment, amused himself picking up pins instead of overlooking the workmen. On the other hand, my father-in-law ruined me with his economical schemes; he induced me to buy flocks of sheep which he insisted on training to draw the plough, saying that they would do the ploughing much faster; but the poor beasts died just as they were beginning to get used to the fatigue. He filled the lofts of my château with plums, declaring that they would make better sugar than beets; but when he set about making the experiment the plums were rotten. He had a canal dug in my park, because he swore that we could catch gudgeons in it and salt them and sell them for sardines; but the canal was always dry, and we caught nothing but rats.—While monsieur le marquis tried these fine experiments, my wife gave dinner-parties and elaborate fêtes. But I could not enjoy them, because I always had to play whist with my father-in-law. Finally, my sister-in-law married a widower with three children, and I had to put them all up at my château. I attempted to remonstrate, but my wife told me that when a man was as rich as I was he ought not to be mean. I determined to find out whether I still was very rich, so I wrote to my notary one fine day, when I had been married two years. He replied that of all the property of mine that he had had, only about fifty thousand francs was left. We had spent about three hundred and fifty thousand in repairs, entertainments and economical undertakings. I lost no time in informing my father-in-law that all I had left was twenty-five hundred francs a year and the château. Thereupon my wife fainted, my father-in-law seized a cane and threatened to give me a drubbing, claiming that I had deceived him; that, in order to have the honor of marrying his daughter, I had represented myself as being much richer than I really was.
"Faith! as I was tired of being scolded and threatened, and of playing whist, I started for Paris one fine morning, leaving them the château, which they were obliged to sell as it brought in nothing; but I turned over the proceeds to them. I am content with my twenty-five hundred francs a year, and if only my wife and my father-in-law do not come to Paris some day to hunt me up—that is all I ask.—That is what has happened to me, my dear Fifine;—My two travelling companions have been more fortunate: Edouard married a girl who lived in the mountains, near my château. She does not bear an illustrious name, she does not dance like Cornélie, but it seems that she makes her husband very happy; they have a lovely little girl, and they pass six months of the year at the White House, a pretty place of theirs in Auvergne, where they have urged me to visit them, which I would gladly do if I was not afraid of meeting my wife or my father-in-law in the neighborhood. As for Alfred, he too has married lately—a certain Jenny de Gerville, with whom he had been in love a long while; his wife is very pleasant; I dine with them sometimes.—There, dear Fifine, that is what I have been doing these last three years. And you?"
"I have flitted about."
"Are you still in the same shop?"
"I should think not! I have been in thirty since. But I think that I am going to settle down at last; the person with whom I am intimate now is looking for afashionablelittle shop for me."
"Fifine!"
"Well?"
"Doesn’t your heart say anything to you? does not this meeting cause you a delicious emotion, as it does me?"
"Mon Dieu! no! I am not moved at all!"
"Fifine, I still have a neat little income, and I hope to get back into my old department. As we have met again, what prevents us from renewing a connection that was once so affectionate, from adoring each other as we used?"
"No, thanks! I won’t renew anything! You would only have to inherit some more money, and then you’d drop me again!"
"Ah! Fifine! what a rebuke! You cut me to the heart!"
"I am very sorry, but you don’t cut me at all!"
"Let us at least make the most of the chance that brings us together; come and dine with me, Fifine."
"No."
"I know a little restaurant where they make excellent rum punches;—you used to be very fond of rum punch, Fifine."
"I still am, but I won’t dine with you. Oh! it’s of no use for you to assume your affecting expression! it doesn’t touch me in the least now.—It’s four o’clock and I must leave you; I am going to join my little milord, who is waiting for me on Place de la Bourse."
As she spoke, Fifine dropped Robineau’s arm. He heaved a deep sigh and drew his handkerchief, raising his eyes heavenward in his distress; but that only made Fifine laugh.
"My dear man," she said as she left him, "a woman forgives infidelity, but never ingratitude!"
FOOTNOTES:[1]Bas.—Which means stockings, as well.[2]Arosièreis the name given in many villages to the girl who wins the prize for virtue.[3]How I love this spot! beside these pure waters,How sweet, in the gloaming, nature to admire!Born ’neath yon humble roof, he who dwells hereViews with indifferent eye these frowning mountains.But to a heart susceptible to melancholy,This romantic spot is full of poesy!These steep cliffs, these limpid streams,These winding paths, these swaying reeds,All these excite me, touch me, and this savage sceneSpeaks to my amazed senses an unfamiliar language.[4]All rests in the darkness and Idamore aloneFrom the walls of Benares escapes before dawn.What is this ancient forest, whither your steps have led me?But I see a temple, and the luminary of night![5]Where am I? What darknessShrouds with a ghastly veil the light that shone for us?These walls are dyed with blood! I see the FuriesShake their torches, avengers of parricides!The vivid lightning seems to strike me down,Hell yawns![6]I have the blest promise,That as midnight draws near,Love will noiselessly open to meMy mistress’s alcove![7]Va te promener!Literally, as translated, but as an idiomatic expression it signifies: Go about your business![8]The point made in French is lost in English. The verb used—sentir—means either to feel or to smell.[9]Thy charms all hearts ensnare,Grace, youth in thee I see;No joy so sweet, so rare,As always loving thee.[10]In French,il possède dix langues!—"he possesses ten tongues,"—which makes the pun more intelligible.
FOOTNOTES:
[1]Bas.—Which means stockings, as well.
[1]Bas.—Which means stockings, as well.
[2]Arosièreis the name given in many villages to the girl who wins the prize for virtue.
[2]Arosièreis the name given in many villages to the girl who wins the prize for virtue.
[3]How I love this spot! beside these pure waters,How sweet, in the gloaming, nature to admire!Born ’neath yon humble roof, he who dwells hereViews with indifferent eye these frowning mountains.But to a heart susceptible to melancholy,This romantic spot is full of poesy!These steep cliffs, these limpid streams,These winding paths, these swaying reeds,All these excite me, touch me, and this savage sceneSpeaks to my amazed senses an unfamiliar language.
[3]
How I love this spot! beside these pure waters,How sweet, in the gloaming, nature to admire!Born ’neath yon humble roof, he who dwells hereViews with indifferent eye these frowning mountains.But to a heart susceptible to melancholy,This romantic spot is full of poesy!These steep cliffs, these limpid streams,These winding paths, these swaying reeds,All these excite me, touch me, and this savage sceneSpeaks to my amazed senses an unfamiliar language.
How I love this spot! beside these pure waters,How sweet, in the gloaming, nature to admire!Born ’neath yon humble roof, he who dwells hereViews with indifferent eye these frowning mountains.
But to a heart susceptible to melancholy,This romantic spot is full of poesy!These steep cliffs, these limpid streams,These winding paths, these swaying reeds,All these excite me, touch me, and this savage sceneSpeaks to my amazed senses an unfamiliar language.
[4]All rests in the darkness and Idamore aloneFrom the walls of Benares escapes before dawn.What is this ancient forest, whither your steps have led me?But I see a temple, and the luminary of night!
[4]
All rests in the darkness and Idamore aloneFrom the walls of Benares escapes before dawn.What is this ancient forest, whither your steps have led me?But I see a temple, and the luminary of night!
All rests in the darkness and Idamore aloneFrom the walls of Benares escapes before dawn.What is this ancient forest, whither your steps have led me?But I see a temple, and the luminary of night!
[5]Where am I? What darknessShrouds with a ghastly veil the light that shone for us?These walls are dyed with blood! I see the FuriesShake their torches, avengers of parricides!The vivid lightning seems to strike me down,Hell yawns!
[5]
Where am I? What darknessShrouds with a ghastly veil the light that shone for us?These walls are dyed with blood! I see the FuriesShake their torches, avengers of parricides!The vivid lightning seems to strike me down,Hell yawns!
Where am I? What darknessShrouds with a ghastly veil the light that shone for us?These walls are dyed with blood! I see the FuriesShake their torches, avengers of parricides!The vivid lightning seems to strike me down,Hell yawns!
[6]I have the blest promise,That as midnight draws near,Love will noiselessly open to meMy mistress’s alcove!
[6]
I have the blest promise,That as midnight draws near,Love will noiselessly open to meMy mistress’s alcove!
I have the blest promise,That as midnight draws near,Love will noiselessly open to meMy mistress’s alcove!
[7]Va te promener!Literally, as translated, but as an idiomatic expression it signifies: Go about your business!
[7]Va te promener!Literally, as translated, but as an idiomatic expression it signifies: Go about your business!
[8]The point made in French is lost in English. The verb used—sentir—means either to feel or to smell.
[8]The point made in French is lost in English. The verb used—sentir—means either to feel or to smell.
[9]Thy charms all hearts ensnare,Grace, youth in thee I see;No joy so sweet, so rare,As always loving thee.
[9]
Thy charms all hearts ensnare,Grace, youth in thee I see;No joy so sweet, so rare,As always loving thee.
Thy charms all hearts ensnare,Grace, youth in thee I see;No joy so sweet, so rare,As always loving thee.
[10]In French,il possède dix langues!—"he possesses ten tongues,"—which makes the pun more intelligible.
[10]In French,il possède dix langues!—"he possesses ten tongues,"—which makes the pun more intelligible.