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Abbe Prevost
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Antoine-François, Abbé Prévost d’Exiles
French author
born , April 1, 1697, Hesdin, Fr.
died Nov. 25, 1763, Chantilly
Main
prolific French novelist whose fame rests entirely on one work—Manon
Lescaut (1731; in full Histoire du Chevalier des Grieux et de Manon
Lescaut; “Story of the Chevalier of Grieux and of Manon Lescaut”).
Originally published as the final installment of a seven-volume
novel, Mémoires et aventures d’un homme de qualité qui s’est retiré du
monde (1728–31; “Memories and Adventures of a Man of Quality Who Has
Retired from the World”), Prévost’s Manon Lescaut is the basis of the
operas Manon, by Jules Massenet, and Manon Lescaut, by Giacomo Puccini.
A classic example of the 18th-century novel of feeling, Manon Lescaut
tells the story of a young man of good family who ruins his life for a
courtesan.
From an early age, Prévost displayed many of the weaknesses
characteristic of the hero of his most famous work. Two enlistments in
the army alternated with two entries into the novitiate of the Society
of Jesus, from which he was dismissed in 1721. In that year he took vows
as a Benedictine monk and in 1726 was ordained a priest. In 1728 he fled
to England. One of his numerous love affairs caused him to lose his job
there as a tutor and to go to Holland in 1730. In 1735 Prévost returned
to England to escape his Dutch creditors and was briefly imprisoned in
London for forgery. After secretly returning to France, he was
reconciled with the Roman Catholic church (although he may have been a
Protestant during his exile).
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Manon Lescaut
(L'Histoire du chevalier des Grieux et de Manon Lescaut)
is a short novel by French author Antoine François Prévost (the Abbé
Prévost). Published in 1731, it is the seventh and final volume of
Mémoires et aventures d'un homme de qualité (Memoirs and Adventures of a
Man of Quality). It was controversial in its time and was banned in
France upon publication. Despite this it became very popular and pirated
editions were widely distributed. In a subsequent 1753 edition, the Abbé
Prévost toned down some scandalous details and injected more moralizing
disclaimers.
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Manon Lescaut
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CHAPTER I
Just about six months before my departure for Spain, I first met the
Chevalier des Grieux. Though I rarely quitted my retreat, still the
interest I felt in my child’s welfare induced me occasionally to
undertake short journeys, which, however, I took good care to abridge as
much as possible.
I was one day returning from Rouen, where I had been, at her request,
to attend a cause then pending before the Parliament of Normandy,
respecting an inheritance to which I had claims derived from my maternal
grandfather. Having taken the road by Evreux, where I slept the first
night, I on the following day, about dinner-time, reached Passy, a
distance of five or six leagues. I was amazed, on entering this quiet
town, to see all the inhabitants in commotion. They were pouring from
their houses in crowds, towards the gate of a small inn, immediately
before which two covered vans were drawn up. Their horses still in
harness, and reeking from fatigue and heat, showed that the cortege had
only just arrived. I stopped for a moment to learn the cause of the
tumult, but could gain little information from the curious mob as they
rushed by, heedless of my enquiries, and hastening impatiently towards
the inn in the utmost confusion. At length an archer of the civic guard,
wearing his bandolier, and carrying a carbine on his shoulder, appeared
at the gate; so, beckoning him towards me, I begged to know the cause of
the uproar. "Nothing, sir," said he, "but a dozen of the frail
sisterhood, that I and my comrades are conducting to Havre-de-Grace,
whence we are to ship them for America. There are one or two of them
pretty enough; and it is that, apparently, which attracts the curiosity
of these good people."
I should have passed on, satisfied with this explanation, if my
attention had not been arrested by the cries of an old woman, who was
coming out of the inn with her hands clasped, and exclaiming:
"A downright barbarity!--A scene to excite horror and compassion!"
"What may this mean?" I enquired. "Oh! sir; go into the house yourself,"
said the woman, and see if it is not a sight to rend your heart!"
Curiosity made me dismount; and leaving my horse to the care of the
ostler, I made my way with some difficulty through the crowd, and did
indeed behold a scene sufficiently touching.
Among the twelve girls, who were chained together by the waist in two
rows, there was one, whose whole air and figure seemed so ill-suited to
her present condition, that under other circumstances I should not have
hesitated to pronounce her a person of high birth. Her excessive grief,
and even the wretchedness of her attire, detracted so little from her
surpassing beauty, that at first sight of her I was inspired with a
mingled feeling of respect and pity.
She tried, as well as the chain would permit her, to turn herself
away, and hide her face from the rude gaze of the spectators. There was
something so unaffected in the effort she made to escape observation,
that it could but have sprung from natural and innate modesty alone.
As the six men who escorted the unhappy train were together in the
room, I took the chief one aside and asked for information respecting
this beautiful girl. All that he could supply was of the most vague
kind. "We brought her," he said, "from the Hospital, by order of the
lieutenant-general of police. There is no reason to suppose that she was
shut up there for good conduct.
I have questioned her often upon the road; but she persists in
refusing even to answer me. Yet, although I received no orders to make
any distinction between her and the others, I cannot help treating her
differently, for she seems to me somewhat superior to her companions.
Yonder is a young man," continued the archer, "who can tell you, better
than I can, the cause of her misfortunes. He has followed her from
Paris, and has scarcely dried his tears for a single moment. He must be
either her brother or her lover."
I turned towards the corner of the room, where this young man was
seated. He seemed buried in a profound reverie. Never did I behold a
more affecting picture of grief. He was plainly dressed; but one may
discover at the first glance a man of birth and education. As I
approached him he rose, and there was so refined and noble an expression
in his eyes, in his whole countenance, in his every movement, that I
felt an involuntary impulse to render him any service in my power. "I am
unwilling to intrude upon your sorrows," said I, taking a seat beside
him, "but you will, perhaps, gratify the desire I feel to learn
something about that beautiful girl, who seems little formed by nature
for the miserable condition in which she is placed."
He answered me candidly, that he could not communicate her history
without making himself known, and that he had urgent reasons for
preserving his own incognito. "I may, however, tell you this much, for
it is no longer a secret to these wretches," he continued, pointing to
the guards,--"that I adore her with a passion so ardent and absorbing as
to render me the most unhappy of human beings. I tried every means at
Paris to effect her liberty. Petitions, artifice, force--all failed. Go
where she may, I have resolved to follow her--to the extremity of the
world. I shall embark with her and cross to America.
But think of the brutal inhumanity of these cowardly ruffians," he
added, speaking of the guards; "they will not allow me to approach her!
I had planned an open attack upon them some leagues from Paris; having
secured, as I thought, the aid of four men, who for a considerable sum
hired me their services. The traitors, however, left me to execute my
scheme single-handed, and decamped with my money. The impossibility of
success made me of course abandon the attempt, I then implored of the
guards permission to follow in their train, promising them a recompense.
The love of money procured their consent; but as they required payment
every time I was allowed to speak to her, my purse was speedily emptied;
and now that I am utterly penniless, they are barbarous enough to
repulse me brutally, whenever I make the slightest attempt to approach
her. It is but a moment since, that venturing to do so, in spite of
their threats, one of the fellows raised the butt-end of his musket. I
am now driven by their exactions to dispose of the miserable horse that
has brought me hither, and am preparing to continue the journey on
foot."
Although he seemed to recite this story tranquilly enough, I observed
the tears start to his eyes as he concluded. This adventure struck me as
being not less singular than it was affecting. "I do not press you,"
said I to him, to make me the confidant of your secrets; but if I can be
of use to you in any way, I gladly tender you my services." "Alas!"
replied he, "I see not the slightest ray of hope. I must reconcile
myself to my destiny in all its rigour. I shall go to America: there, at
least, I may be free to live with her I love. I have written to a
friend, who will send me money to Havre-de-Grace. My only difficulty is
to get so far, and to supply that poor creature," added he, as he cast a
look of sorrow at his mistress, "with some few comforts upon the way."
"Well!" said I to him, "I shall relieve you from that difficulty. Here
is some money, of which I entreat your acceptance: I am only sorry that
I can be of no greater service to you."
I gave him four louis-d’ors without being perceived by the guards;
for I thought that if they knew he had this money, they might have
raised the price of their concessions. It occurred to me, even, to come
to an understanding with them, in order to secure for the young man the
privilege of conversing with his mistress, during the rest of the
journey to Havre, without hindrance. I beckoned the chief to approach,
and made the proposition to him. It seemed to abash the ruffian, in
spite of his habitual effrontery. "It is not, sir," said he, in an
embarrassed tone, "that we refuse to let him speak to the girl, but he
wishes to be always near her, which puts us to inconvenience; and it is
just that we should be paid for the trouble he occasions." "Let us see!"
said I to him, "what would suffice to prevent you from feeling the
inconvenience?" He had the audacity to demand two louis. I gave them to
him on the spot. "But have a care," said I to him, "that we have no foul
play: for I shall give the young man my address, in order that he may
write to me on his arrival; and be assured that I am not without the
power to punish you." It cost me altogether six louis-d’ors.
The graceful manner and heartfelt gratitude with which the young
unknown thanked me, confirmed my notion that he was of good birth and
merited my kindness. I addressed a few words to his mistress before I
left the room. She replied to me with a modesty so gentle and so
charming that I could not help making, as I went out, a thousand
reflections upon the incomprehensible character of women.
Returned to my retreat, I remained in ignorance of the result of this
adventure; and ere two years had passed, it was completely blotted from
my recollection, when chance brought me an opportunity of learning all
the circumstances from beginning to end.
I arrived at Calais, from London, with my pupil, the Marquis of ----.
We lodged, if I remember rightly, at the "Golden Lion," where, for some
reason, we were obliged to spend the following day and night. Walking
along the streets in the afternoon, I fancied I saw the same young man
whom I had formerly met at Passy. He was miserably dressed, and much
paler than when I first saw him. He carried on his arm an old
portmanteau, having only just arrived in the town. However, there was an
expression in his countenance too amiable not to be easily recognised,
and which immediately brought his features to my recollection. "Observe
that young man,"said I to the Marquis; "we must accost him."
His joy was beyond expression when, in his turn, he recognised me.
"Ah, sir!" he cried, kissing my hand, "I have then once again an
opportunity of testifying my eternal gratitude to you!" I enquired of
him whence he came. He replied, that he had just arrived, by sea, from
Havre, where he had lately landed from America. "You do not seem to be
too well off for money," said I to him; "go on to the ‘Golden Lion,’
where I am lodging; I will join you in a moment."
I returned, in fact, full of impatience to learn the details of his
misfortunes, and the circumstances of his voyage to America. I gave him
a thousand welcomes, and ordered that they should supply him with
everything he wanted. He did not wait to be solicited for the history of
his life. "Sir," said he to me, "your conduct is so generous, that I
should consider it base ingratitude to maintain any reserve towards you.
You shall learn not only my misfortunes and sufferings, but my faults
and most culpable weaknesses. I am sure that, even while you blame me,
you will not refuse me your sympathy."
I should here inform the reader that I wrote down the story almost
immediately after hearing it; and he may, therefore, be assured of the
correctness and fidelity of the narrative. I use the word fidelity with
reference to the substance of reflections and sentiments, which the
young man conveyed in the most graceful language. Here, then, is his
story, which in its progress I shall not encumber with a single
observation that was not his own.
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CHAPTER II
"I was seventeen years old, and was finishing my studies at Amiens,
whither my parents, who belonged to one of the first families in Picardy,
had sent me. I led a life so studious and well regulated, that my
masters pointed to me as a model of conduct for the other scholars. Not
that I made any extraordinary efforts to acquire this reputation, but my
disposition was naturally tractable and tranquil; my inclinations led me
to apply to study; and even the natural dislike I felt for vice was
placed to my credit as positive proof of virtue. The successful progress
of my studies, my birth, and some external advantages of person, made me
a general favourite with the inhabitants of the town.
"I completed my public exercises with such general approbation, that
the bishop of the diocese, who was present, proposed to me to enter the
church, where I could not fail, he said, to acquire more distinction
than in the Order of Malta, for which my parents had destined me. I was
already decorated with the Cross, and called the Chevalier des Grieux.
The vacation having arrived, I was preparing to return to my father, who
had promised to send me soon to the Academy.
"My only regret on quitting Amiens arose from parting with a friend,
some years older than myself, to whom I had always been tenderly
attached. We had been brought up together; but from the straitened
circumstances of his family, he was intended to take orders, and was to
remain after me at Amiens to complete the requisite studies for his
sacred calling. He had a thousand good qualities. You will recognise in
him the very best during the course of my history, and above all, a zeal
and fervour of friendship which surpass the most illustrious examples of
antiquity. If I had at that time followed his advice, I should have
always continued a discreet and happy man. If I had even taken counsel
from his reproaches, when on the brink of that gulf into which my
passions afterwards plunged me, I should have been spared the melancholy
wreck of both fortune and reputation. But he was doomed to see his
friendly admonitions disregarded; nay, even at times repaid by contempt
from an ungrateful wretch, who often dared to treat his fraternal
conduct as offensive and officious.
"I had fixed the day for my departure from Amiens. Alas! that I had
not fixed it one day sooner! I should then have carried to my father’s
house my innocence untarnished.
"The very evening before my expected departure, as I was walking with
my friend, whose name was Tiberge, we saw the Arras diligence arrive,
and sauntered after it to the inn, at which these coaches stop. We had
no other motive than curiosity. Some worn men alighted, and immediately
retired into the inn. One remained behind: she was very young, and stood
by herself in the court, while a man of advanced age, who appeared to
have charge of her, was busy in getting her luggage from the vehicle.
She struck me as being so extremely beautiful, that I, who had never
before thought of the difference between the sexes, or looked on woman
with the slightest attention--I, whose conduct had been hitherto the
theme of universal admiration, felt myself, on the instant, deprived of
my reason and self-control. I had been always excessively timid, and
easily disconcerted; but now, instead of meeting with any impediment
from this weakness, I advanced without the slightest reserve towards
her, who had thus become, in a moment, the mistress of my heart.
"Although younger than myself, she received my civilities without
embarrassment. I asked the cause of her journey to Amiens, and whether
she had any acquaintances in the town. She ingenuously told me that she
had been sent there by her parents, to commence her novitiate for taking
the veil. Love had so quickened my perception, even in the short moment
it had been enthroned, that I saw in this announcement a death-blow to
my hopes. I spoke to her in a way that made her at once understand what
was passing in my mind; for she had more experience than myself. It was
against her consent that she was consigned to a convent, doubtless to
repress that inclination for pleasure which had already become too
manifest, and which caused, in the sequel, all her misfortunes and mine.
I combated the cruel intention of her parents with all the arguments
that my new-born passion and schoolboy eloquence could suggest. She
affected neither austerity nor reserve. She told me, after a moment’s
silence, that she foresaw too clearly, what her unhappy fate must be;
but that it was, apparently, the will of Heaven, since there were no
means left her to avert it. The sweetness of her look, the air of sorrow
with which she pronounced these words, or rather perhaps the controlling
destiny which led me on to ruin, allowed me not an instant to weigh my
answer. I assured her that if she would place reliance on my honour, and
on the tender interest with which she had already inspired me, I would
sacrifice my life to deliver her from the tyranny of her parents, and to
render her happy. I have since been a thousand times astonished in
reflecting upon it, to think how I could have expressed myself with so
much boldness and facility; but love could never have become a divinity,
if he had not often worked miracles.
"I made many other pressing and tender speeches; and my unknown fair
one was perfectly aware that mine was not the age for deceit. She
confessed to me that if I could see but a reasonable hope of being able
to effect her enfranchisement, she should deem herself indebted for my
kindness in more than life itself could pay. I repeated that I was ready
to attempt anything in her behalf; but, not having sufficient experience
at once to imagine any reasonable plan of serving her, I did not go
beyond this general assurance, from which indeed little good could arise
either to her or to myself. Her old guardian having by this time joined
us, my hopes would have been blighted, but that she had tact enough to
make amends for my stupidity. I was surprised, on his approaching us, to
hear her call me her cousin, and say, without being in the slightest
degree disconcerted, that as she had been so fortunate as to fall in
with me at Amiens, she would not go into the convent until the next
morning, in order to have the pleasure of meeting me at supper. Innocent
as I was, I at once comprehended the meaning of this ruse; and proposed
that she should lodge for the night at the house of an innkeeper, who,
after being many years my father’s coachman, had lately established
himself at Amiens, and who was sincerely attached to me.
"I conducted her there myself, at which the old Argus appeared to
grumble a little; and my friend Tiberge, who was puzzled by the whole
scene, followed, without uttering a word. He had not heard our
conversation, having walked up and down the court while I was talking of
love to my angelic mistress. As I had some doubts of his discretion, I
got rid of him, by begging that he would execute a commission for me. I
had thus the happiness, on arriving at the inn, of entertaining alone
the sovereign of my heart.
"I soon learned that I was less a child than I had before imagined.
My heart expanded to a thousand sentiments of pleasure, of which I had
not before the remotest idea. A delicious consciousness of enjoyment
diffused itself through my whole mind and soul. I sank into a kind of
ecstasy, which deprived me for a time of the power of utterance, and
which found vent only in a flood of tears.
"Manon Lescaut (this she told me was her name) seemed gratified by
the visible effect of her own charms. She appeared to me not less
excited than myself. She acknowledged that she was greatly pleased with
me, and that she should be enchanted to owe to me her freedom and future
happiness. She would insist on hearing who I was, and the knowledge only
augmented her affection; for, being herself of humble birth, she was
flattered by securing for her lover a man of family.
After many reflections we could discover no other resource than in
flight. To effect this it would be requisite to cheat the vigilance of
Manon’s guardian, who required management, although he was but a
servant. We determined, therefore, that, during the night, I should
procure a post-chaise, and return with it at break of day to the inn,
before he was awake; that we should steal away quietly, and go straight
to Paris, where we might be married on our arrival. I had about fifty
crowns in my pocket, the fruit of my little savings at school; and she
had about twice as much. We imagined, like inexperienced children, that
such a sum could never be exhausted, and we counted, with equal
confidence, upon the success of our other schemes.
"After having supped, with certainly more satisfaction than I had
ever before experienced, I retired to prepare for our project. All my
arrangements were the more easy, because, for the purpose of returning
on the morrow to my father’s, my luggage had been already packed. I had,
therefore, no difficulty in removing my trunk, and having a chaise
prepared for five o’clock in the morning, at which hour the gates of the
town would be opened; but I encountered an obstacle which I was little
prepared for, and which nearly upset all my plans.
"Tiberge, although only three years older than myself, was a youth of
unusually strong mind, and of the best regulated conduct. He loved me
with singular affection. The sight of so lovely a girl as Manon, my
ill-disguised impatience to conduct her to the inn, and the anxiety I
betrayed to get rid of him, had excited in his mind some suspicions of
my passion. He had not ventured to return to the inn where he had left
me, for fear of my being annoyed at his doing so; but went to wait for
me at my lodgings, where, although it was ten o’clock at night, I found
him on my arrival. His presence annoyed me, and he soon perceived the
restraint which it imposed. ‘I am certain,’ he said to me, without any
disguise, ‘that you have some plan in contemplation which you will not
confide to me; I see it by your manner.’ I answered him rather abruptly,
that I was not bound to render him an account of all my movements.
‘Certainly not!’ he replied; ‘but you have always, hitherto, treated me
as a friend, and that appellation implies a certain degree of confidence
and candour.’ He pressed me so much and so earnestly to discover my
secret, that, having never up to that moment felt the slightest reserve
towards him, I confided to him now the whole history of my passion. He
heard it with an appearance of disapprobation, which made me tremble;
and I immediately repented of my indiscretion, in telling him of my
intended elopement. He told me he was too sincerely my friend not to
oppose every obstacle in his power to such a scheme; that he would first
try all other means of turning me from such a purpose, but that if I
refused to renounce so fatal a resolution, he assuredly would inform
some persons of my intention, who would be able to defeat it. He held
forth upon the subject for a full quarter of an hour, in the most
serious tone, and ended by again threatening to inform against me, if I
did not pledge him my word that I would return to the paths of
discretion and reason.
"I was in despair at having so awkwardly betrayed myself. However,
love having wonderfully sharpened my intellect during the last two or
three hours, I recollected that I had not yet told him of its being my
intention to execute my project on the following morning, and I at once
determined to deceive him by a little equivocation.
"‘Tiberge,’ said I to him, ‘up to the present moment I thought you
were my friend; and I wished to prove it by the test of confidence. It
is true, I am in love; I have not deceived you: but with regard to my
flight, that is a project not to be undertaken without deliberation.
Call for me tomorrow at nine o’clock: you shall see my mistress, if it
be possible, and then judge whether she is not worthy of any risk or
sacrifice on my part.’ He left me, with a thousand protestations of
friendship.
I employed the night in preparing for the journey, and on repairing
to the inn at early dawn, I found Manon waiting my arrival. She was at
her window, which looked upon the street, and perceiving my approach,
she came down and opened the door herself. We took our departure
silently, and without creating the least alarm. She merely brought away
a small portion of her apparel, of which I took charge. The chaise was
in readiness, and we were soon at a distance from the town.
"You will learn in the sequel what was the conduct of Tiberge when he
discovered that I had deceived him; that his zeal to serve me suffered
no diminution; and you will observe to what lengths his devotion carried
him. How ought I to grieve, when I reflect on the base ingratitude with
which his affection was always repaid!
"We made such speed on our journey that before night we reached St.
Denis. I rode alongside of the chaise, which gave us little opportunity
for conversation, except while changing horses; but when we found
ourselves so near Paris, and out of the reach of danger, we allowed
ourselves time for refreshment, not having tasted food since we quitted
Amiens. Passionately in love as I felt with Manon, she knew how to
convince me that she was equally so with me. So little did we restrain
our fondness, that we had not even patience to reserve our caresses till
we were alone. The postilions and innkeepers stared at us with wonder,
and I remarked that they appeared surprised at such uncontrollable love
in children of our age.
"Our project of marriage was forgotten at St. Denis; we defrauded the
Church of her rights; and found ourselves united as man and wife without
reflecting on the consequences. It is certain that with my easy and
constant disposition, I should have been happy for my whole life, if
Manon had remained faithful to me. The more I saw of her, the more I
discovered in her new perfections. Her mind, her heart, her gentleness
and beauty, formed a chain at once so binding and so agreeable, that I
could have found perfect happiness in its enduring influence. Terrible
fatality? that which has been the source of my despair, might, under a
slight change of circumstances, have constituted my happiness. I find
myself the most wretched of mankind, by the force of that very constancy
from which I might have fairly expected to derive the most serene of
human blisses, and the most perfect recompense of love.
We took a furnished apartment at Paris. in the Rue V----, and, as it
afterwards turned out, to my sorrow, close to the house of M. de B----,
the famous Fermier-general. Three weeks passed, during which I was so
absorbed in my passion, that I never gave a thought to my family, nor
dreamed of the distress which my father probably felt at my absence.
However, as there was yet nothing of profligacy about me, and as Manon
conducted herself with the strictest propriety, the tranquil life we led
served to restore me by degrees to a sense of duty.
I resolved to effect, if possible, a reconciliation with my parent.
My mistress was to me so perfectly lovable, that I could not a doubt her
power of captivating my father, if I could only find the means of making
him acquainted with her good conduct and merit. In a word, I relied on
obtaining his consent to our marriage, having given up all idea of
accomplishing it without his approval. I mentioned the project to Manon,
and explained to her that, besides every motive of filial love and duty,
the weightier one of necessity should also have some influence; for our
finances were sadly reduced, and I began to see the folly of thinking
them, as I once did, inexhaustible.
"Manon received the proposition with considerable coldness. However,
the difficulties she made, being apparently the suggestions of
tenderness alone, or as arising from the natural fear of losing me, if
my father, after learning our address, should refuse his assent to our
union, I had not the smallest suspicion of the cruel blow she was at the
very time preparing to inflict. As to the argument of necessity, she
replied that we had still abundant means of living for some weeks
longer, and that she would then find a resource in the kindness of some
relations in the country, to whom she should write. She tempered her
opposition by caresses so tender and impassioned, that I, who lived only
for her, and who never had the slightest misgiving as to her love,
applauded at once her arguments and her resolutions.
"To Manon I had committed the care of our finances, and the
house-hold arrangements. In a short time, I observed that our style of
living was improved, and that she had treated herself to more expensive
dresses. As I calculated that we could hardly have at this period more
than fifteen or twenty crowns remaining, I did not conceal my surprise
at this mysterious augmentation of our wealth. She begged of me, with a
smile, to give myself no trouble on that head. ‘Did I not promise you,’
said she, ‘that I would find resources?’ I loved her too purely to
experience the slightest suspicion.
"One day, having gone out in the afternoon, and told her that I
should not be at home so early as usual, I was astonished, on my return,
at being detained several minutes at the door. Our only servant was a
young girl about our own age. On her letting me in at last, I asked why
she had detained me so long? She replied in an embarrassed tone, that
she did not hear me knock. ‘I only knocked once,’ said I; ‘so if you did
not hear me, why come to open the door at all?’ This query disconcerted
her so visibly, that losing her presence of mind, she began to cry,
assuring me that it was not her fault; and that her mistress had desired
her not to open the door until M. de B----had had time to go down by the
back staircase. I was so confounded by this information as to be utterly
unable to proceed to our apartment; and was obliged to leave the house,
under the pretext of an appointment. I desired the girl, therefore, to
let her mistress know that I should return in a few minutes, but on no
account to say that she had spoken to me of M. de B----.
"My horror was so great, that I shed tears as I went along, hardly
knowing from what feeling they flowed. I entered a coffee-house close
by, and placing myself at a table, I buried my face between my hands, as
though I would turn my eyes inward to ascertain what was passing in my
heart. Still, I dared not recall what I had heard the moment before. I
strove to look upon it as a dream; and was more than once on the point
of returning to my lodgings, determined to attach no importance to what
I had heard.
It appeared to me so impossible that Manon could have been
unfaithful, that I feared even to wrong her by a suspicion. I adored
her--that was too certain; I had not on my part given her more proofs of
my love than I had received of hers; why then should I charge her with
being less sincere and constant than myself? What reason could she have
to deceive me? Not three hours before, she had lavished upon me the most
tender caresses, and had received mine with transport: I knew her heart
as thoroughly as my own. ‘No, no!’ I said, ‘it is not possible that
Manon can have deceived me. She well knows that I live but for her; that
I adore her: upon that point I can have no reason to be unhappy.’
"Notwithstanding these reflections, the visit of M. de B----, and his
secret departure, gave me some uneasiness. I remembered, too, the little
purchases she had lately made, which seemed beyond our present means.
This looked like the liberality of a new lover. And the confidence with
which she had foretold resources which were to me unknown? I had some
difficulty in solving these mysteries in as favourable a manner as my
heart desired.
"On the other hand, she had been hardly out of my sight since we
entered Paris. However occupied, in our walks, in all our amusements,
she was ever at my side. Heavens! even a momentary separation would have
been too painful. I could not therefore imagine how Manon could, to any
other person, have devoted a single instant.
"At last I thought I had discovered a clue to the mystery. ‘M. de
B----’ said I to myself, ‘is a man extensively engaged in commercial
affairs; and Manon’s relations have no doubt remitted her money through
his house. She has probably already received some from him, and he is
come today to bring her more. She wishes, perhaps, to derive amusement
by and by, from an agreeable surprise, by keeping me at present in the
dark. She would doubtless have at once told me all, if I had gone in as
usual, instead of coming here to distress myself: at all events, she
will not conceal it from me when I broach the subject myself.’
"I cherished this idea so willingly, that it considerably lightened
my grief. I immediately returned to my lodgings, and embraced Manon as
tenderly as ever. She received me as usual. At first I was tempted to
mention my conjectures, which I now, more than ever, looked upon as
certain; but I restrained myself in the hope that she might render it
unnecessary by informing me of all that had passed.
"Supper was served. Assuming an air of gaiety, I took my seat at
table; but by the light of the candles which were between us, I fancied
I perceived an air of melancholy about the eyes and countenance of my
beloved mistress. The very thought soon damped my gaiety. I remarked
that her looks wore an unusual expression, and although nothing could be
more soft or languishing, I was at a loss to discover whether they
conveyed more of love than of compassion. I gazed at her with equal
earnestness, and she perhaps had no less difficulty in comprehending
from my countenance what was passing in my heart. "We neither spoke nor
ate. At length I saw tears starting from her beauteous eyes--perfidious
tears! ‘Oh heavens!’ I cried, ‘my dearest Manon, why allow your sorrows
to afflict you to this degree without imparting their cause to me?’ She
answered me only with sighs, which increased my misery. I arose
trembling from my seat: I conjured her, with all the urgent earnestness
of love, to let me know the cause of her grief: I wept in endeavouring
to soothe her sorrows: I was more dead than alive. A barbarian would
have pitied my sufferings as I stood trembling with grief and
apprehension.
"While my attention was thus confined to her, I heard people coming
upstairs. They tapped gently at the door. Manon gave me a kiss, and
escaping from my arms, quickly entered the boudoir, turning the key
after her. I imagined that, not being dressed to receive strangers, she
was unwilling to meet the persons who had knocked; I went to let them
in.
"I had hardly opened the door, when I found myself seized by three
men, whom I recognised as my father’s servants. They offered not the
least violence, but two of them taking me by the arms, the third
examined my pockets, and took out a small knife, the only weapon I had
about me. They begged pardon for the necessity they were under of
treating me with apparent disrespect; telling me frankly that they were
acting by the orders of my father, and that my eldest brother was in a
carriage below waiting to receive me. My feelings were so overpowered,
that I allowed myself to be led away without making either reply or
resistance. I found my brother waiting for me as they had stated. They
placed me by his side, and the coachman immediately drove, by his
orders, towards St. Denis.
My brother embraced me most affectionately, but during our ride, he
uttered not a word, so that, as I was not inclined for conversation, I
had as much leisure as I could desire to reflect upon my misfortunes.
|
CHAPTER III
"The whole affair was so involved in obscurity that I could not see
my way even to a reasonable conjecture. I was cruelly betrayed--that was
certain; but by whom? Tiberge first occurred to me. ‘Tiberge!’ said I,
‘it is as much as thy life is worth, if my suspicions turn out to be
well founded.’ However, I recollected that he could not by possibility
know my abode; and therefore, he could not have furnished the
information. To accuse Manon was more than my heart was capable of. The
unusual melancholy with which she had lately seemed weighed down, her
tears, the tender kiss she gave me in parting, made it all as yet a
mystery to me. I could only look upon her recent melancholy as a
presentiment of our common misfortune; and while I was deploring the
event which tore me from her, I was credulous enough to consider her
fate as much deserving of pity as my own.
"The result of my reflections was, that I had been seen and followed
in the streets of Paris by some persons of my acquaintance, who had
conveyed the information to my father. This idea comforted me. I made up
my mind to encounter some reproaches, or perhaps harsh treatment, for
having outraged the paternal authority. I resolved, however, to suffer
with patience, and to promise all that might be required of me, in order
to facilitate my speedy return to Paris, that I might restore life and
happiness to my dear Manon.
"We soon arrived at St. Denis. My brother, surprised at my long
silence, thought it the effect of fear. He assured me that I had nothing
to apprehend from my father’s severity, provided I showed a disposition
to return quietly to the path of duty, and prove myself worthy of his
affection. He made me pass the night at St. Denis, merely taking the
precaution of putting the three lackeys to sleep in my room. It cost me
a pang to find myself in the same inn where I had stopped with Manon on
our way from Amiens to Paris. The innkeeper and his servants recognised
me, and guessed at once the truth of my history. I overheard them say,
‘Ah! that’s the handsome young gentleman who travelled this road about a
month ago, with the beautiful girl he appeared so much in love with! How
pretty she was! The poor young things, how they caressed each other!
Pity if they have been separated!’ I pretended not to hear, and kept as
much out of sight as possible.
"At St. Denis my brother had a chariot waiting for us, in which we
started early the next morning, and arrived at home before night.
He saw my father first, in order to make a favourable impression by
telling him how quietly I had allowed myself to be brought away, so that
his reception of me was less austere than I had expected. He merely
rebuked me in general terms for the offence I had committed, by
absenting myself without his permission. As for my mistress, he said I
richly deserved what had happened to me, for abandoning myself to a
person utterly unknown; that he had entertained a better opinion of my
discretion; but that he hoped this little adventure would make me wiser.
I took the whole lecture only in the sense that accorded with my own
notions. I thanked my father for his indulgence, and promised that I
would in future observe a better regulated and more obedient course of
conduct. I felt that I had secured a triumph; for, from the present
aspect of affairs, there was no doubt that I should be free to effect my
escape from the house even before the night was over.
"We sat down to supper. They rallied me about my Amiens conquest, and
my flight with that paragon of fidelity. I took their jokes in good
part, glad enough at being permitted to revolve in my mind the plans I
had meditated; but some words which fell from my father made me listen
with earnest attention. He spoke of perfidy, and the not disinterested
kindness he had received at the hands of M. de B----. I was almost
paralysed on hearing the name, and begged of my father to explain
himself. He turned to my brother, to ask if he had not told me the whole
story. My brother answered, that I appeared to him so tranquil upon the
road, that he did not suppose I required this remedy to cure me of my
folly. I remarked that my father was doubtful whether he should give me
the explanation or not. I entreated him so earnestly that he satisfied
me, or I should rather say tortured me, with the following most horrible
narration.
"He began by asking me whether I was really simple enough to believe
that I had been really loved by the girl. I told him confidently that I
was perfectly sure of it, and that nothing could make me for a moment
doubt it. ‘Ha, ha, ha!’ said he, with a loud laugh; ‘that is excellent!
you are a pretty dupe! Admirable idea! ’Twould be a thousand pities, my
poor chevalier, to make you a Knight of Malta, with all the requisites
you possess for a patient and accommodating husband.’ He continued in
the same tone to ridicule what he was pleased to call my dullness and
credulity.
"He concluded, while I maintained a profound silence, by saying that,
according to the nicest calculation he could make of the time since my
departure from Amiens, Manon must have been in love with me about twelve
days; ‘for,’ said he, ‘I know that you left Amiens on the 28th of last
month; this is, the 29th of the present; it is eleven days since M. de
B---- wrote to me; I suppose he required eight days to establish a
perfect understanding with your mistress; so that, take eight and eleven
from thirty-one days, the time between the 28th of one month and the
29th of the next, there remains twelve, more or less!’ This joke war,
followed by shouts of laughter.
"I heard it all with a kind of sinking of the heart that I thought I
could not bear up against, until he finished. ‘You must know then,’
continued my father, ‘since you appear as yet ignorant of it, that M. de
B---- has won the affections of your idol; for he can’t be serious in
pretending that it is his disinterested regard for me that has induced
him to take her from you. It would be absurd to expect such noble
sentiments from a man of his description, and one, besides, who is a
perfect stranger to me. He knew that you were my son, and in order to
get rid of you, he wrote to inform me of your abode, and of the life you
led; saying, at the same time, that strong measures would be necessary
to secure you.
He offered to procure me the means of laying hold of you; and it was
by his direction, as well as that of your mistress herself, that your
brother hit upon the moment for catching you unawares. Now, you may
congratulate yourself upon the duration of your triumph. You know how to
conquer, rapid enough; but you have yet to learn how to secure your
conquests.’
"I could no longer endure these remarks, every one of which struck a
dagger to my heart. I arose from the table, and had not advanced four
steps towards the door, when I fell upon the floor, perfectly senseless.
By prompt applications they soon brought me to myself. My eyes opened
only to shed a torrent of tears, and my lips to utter the most sorrowful
and heartrending complaints. My father, who always loved me most
affectionately, tried every means to console me. I listened to him, but
his words were without effect. I threw myself at his feet, in the
attitude of prayer, conjuring him to let me return to Paris, and destroy
the monster B----. ‘No!’cried I; ‘he has not gained Manon’s heart; he
may have seduced her by charms, or by drugs; he may have even brutally
violated her. Manon loves me. Do I not know that well? He must have
terrified her with a poniard, to induce her to abandon me.’ What must he
not have done to have robbed me of my angelic mistress? Oh Heaven!
Heaven! can it be possible that Manon deceived me, or that she has
ceased to love me!
"As I continued to rave about returning at once to Paris, and was
perpetually starting up with that purpose, my father clearly saw that
while the paroxysm lasted, no arguments could pacify me. He conducted me
to one of the upper rooms, and left two servants to keep constant watch
over me. I was completely bewildered. I would have given a thousand
lives to be but for one quarter of an hour in Paris. I had sense enough,
however, to know that having so openly declared my intention, they would
not easily allow me to quit my chamber. I looked at the height of the
windows. Seeing no possibility of escaping that way, I addressed the
servants in the most tranquil tone. I promised, with the most solemn
vows, to make at some future day their fortunes, if they would but
consent to my escape. I entreated them; I tried caresses, and lastly
threats; but all were unavailing. I gave myself up to despair. I
resolved to die; and threw myself upon the bed, with a firm
determination to quit it only with my life. In this situation I passed
the night and the following day. I refused the nourishment that was
brought to me next morning.
"My father came to see me in the afternoon. He tried in the most
affectionate manner, to soothe my grief. He desired me so urgently to
take some refreshment, that, to gratify him, I obeyed his wishes.
Several days passed, during which I took nothing but in his presence,
and at his special request. He continued to furnish new arguments to
restore me to my proper senses, and to inspire me with merited contempt
for the faithless Manon. I certainly had lost all esteem for her: how
could I esteem the most fickle and perfidious of created beings! But her
image--those exquisite features, which were engraven on my heart’s core,
were still uneffaced. I understood my own feelings: ‘I may die,’ said I,
‘and I ought to die after so much shame and grief; but I might suffer a
thousand deaths without being able to forget the ingrate Manon.’
"My father was surprised at my still continuing so powerfully
affected. He knew that I was imbued with the principles of honour; and
not doubting that her infidelity must make me despise her, fancied that
my obstinacy proceeded less from this particular passion, than from a
general inclination towards the sex. This idea so took possession of his
mind, that, prompted only by his affection for me, he came one day to
reveal his thoughts. ‘Chevalier,’ said he to me, ‘it has been hitherto
my intention to make you bear the Cross of Malta: I now see that your
inclinations do not bend that way. You are an admirer of beauty. I shall
be able to find you a wife to your taste. Let me candidly know how you
feel upon the subject.’
"I answered that I could never again see the slightest difference
amongst women, and that after the misfortune I had experienced, I
detested them all equally. ‘I will find you one,’ replied my father,
smiling, ‘who shall resemble Manon in beauty, but who shall be more
faithful.’ ‘Ah! if you have any mercy,’ said I, ‘you will restore my
Manon to me. Be assured, my dear father, that she has not betrayed me;
she is incapable of such base and cruel treachery. It is the perfidious
B---- who deceives both her and me. If you could form an idea of her
tenderness and her sincerity--if you only knew her, you yourself would
love her!’ ‘You are absolutely a child,’ replied my father. ‘How can you
so delude yourself, after what I have told you about her? It was she who
actually delivered you up to your brother. You ought to obliterate even
her name from your memory, and take advantage, if you are wise, of the
indulgence I am showing you.’
"I very clearly perceived that my father was right. It was an
involuntary emotion that made me thus take part with the traitor.
‘Alas!’ replied I, after a moment’s silence, ‘it is but too true that I
am the unhappy victim of the vilest perfidy. Yes,’ I continued, while
shedding tears of anger, ‘I too clearly perceive that I am indeed but a
child. Credulity like mine was easily gulled; but I shall be at no loss
to revenge myself.’ My father enquired of me my intentions: ‘I will go
to Paris,’ I said, ‘set fire to B----’s house, and immolate him and the
perfidious Manon together.’ This burst made my father laugh, and had
only the effect of causing me to be more vigilantly watched in my cell.
I thus passed six long months; during the first of which my mind
underwent little change. My feelings were in a state of perpetual
alternation between hate and love; between hope and despair; according
as, the tendency of each passing thought brought Manon back to my
recollection. At one time, I could see in her the most delightful of
women only, and sigh for the pleasure of beholding her once more; at
another, I felt she was the most unworthy and perfidious of mistresses,
and I would on these occasions swear never again to seek her, but for
the purpose of revenge.
"I was supplied with books, which served to restore my peace of mind.
I read once again all my favourite authors; and I became acquainted with
new ones. All my former taste for study was revived. You will see of
what use this was to me in the sequel. The light I had already derived
from love, enabled me to comprehend many passages in Horace and Virgil
which had before appeared obscure. I wrote an amatory commentary upon
the fourth book of the AEneid. I intend one day to publish it, and I
flatter myself it will be popular.
"‘Alas!’ I used to exclaim, whilst employed on that work, it was for
a heart like mine the faithful Dido sighed, and sighed in vain!’
|
CHAPTER IV
"While in my confinement Tiberge came one day to see me. I was
surprised at the affectionate joy with which he saluted me. I had never,
hitherto, observed any peculiar warmth in his friendship that could lead
me to look upon it as anything more than the partiality common among
boys of the same age. He was so altered, and had grown so manly during
the five or six months since I had last seen him, that his expressive
features and his manner of addressing me inspired me with a feeling of
respect. He spoke more in the character of a mentor than a schoolfellow,
lamented the delusion into which I had fallen, congratulated me on my
reformation, which he believed was now sincere, and ended by exhorting
me to profit by my youthful error, and open my eyes to the vanity of
worldly pleasures. I looked at him with some astonishment, which he at
once perceived.
"‘My dear chevalier,’ said he to me, ‘you shall hear nothing but the
strict truth, of which I have assured myself by the most serious
examination. I had, perhaps, as strong an inclination for pleasure as
you, but Heaven had at the same time, in its mercy, blessed me with a
taste for virtue. I exercised my reason in comparing the consequences of
the one with those of the other, and the divine aid was graciously
vouchsafed to my reflections. I conceived for the world a contempt which
nothing can equal. Can you guess what it is retains me in it now,’ he
added, ‘and that prevents me from embracing a life of solitude? Simply
the sincere friendship I bear towards you. I know the excellent
qualities of both your heart and head. There is no good of which you may
not render yourself capable. The blandishments of pleasure have
momentarily drawn you aside. What detriment to the sacred cause of
virtue! Your flight from Amiens gave me such intense sorrow, that I have
not since known a moment’s happiness. You may judge of this by the steps
it induced me to take.’ He then told me how, after discovering that I
had deceived him, and gone off with my mistress, he procured horses for
the purpose of pursuing me, but having the start of him by four or five
hours, he found it impossible to overtake me; that he arrived, however,
at St. Denis half an hour after I had left it; that, being very sure
that I must have stopped in Paris, he spent six weeks there in a
fruitless endeavour to discover me--visiting every place where he
thought he should be likely to meet me, and that one evening he at
length recognised my mistress at the play, where she was so gorgeously
dressed, that he of course set it down to the account of some new lover;
that he had followed her equipage to her house, and had there learned
from a servant that she was entertained in this style by M. de B----. ‘I
did not stop here,’ continued he; ‘I returned next day to the house, to
learn from her own lips what had become of you. She turned abruptly away
when she heard the mention of your name, and I was obliged to return
into the country without further information. I there learned the
particulars of your adventure, and the extreme annoyance she had caused
you; but I was unwilling to visit you until I could have assurance of
your being in a more tranquil state.’
"‘You have seen Manon then!’ cried I, sighing. ‘Alas! you are happier
than I, who am doomed never again to behold her.’ He rebuked me for this
sigh, which still showed my weakness for the perfidious girl. He
flattered me so adroitly upon the goodness of my mind and disposition,
that he really inspired me, even on this first visit, with a strong
inclination to renounce, as he had done, the pleasures of the world, and
enter at once into holy orders.
"The idea was so suited to my present frame of mind, that when alone
I thought of nothing else. I remembered the words of the Bishop of
Amiens, who had given me the same advice, and thought only of the
happiness which he predicted would result from my adoption of such a
course. Piety itself took part in these suggestions. ‘I shall lead a
holy and a Christian life,’ said I; ‘I shall divide my time between
study and religion, which will allow me no leisure for the perilous
pleasures of love. I shall despise that which men ordinarily admire; and
as I am conscious that my heart will desire nothing but what it can
esteem, my cares will not be greater or more numerous than my wants and
wishes.’
"I thereupon pictured to myself in anticipation a course of life
peaceful and retired. I fancied a retreat embosomed in a wood, with a
limpid stream of running water bounding my garden; a library, comprising
the most select works; a limited circle of friends, virtuous and
intellectual; a table neatly served, but frugal and temperate. To all
these agremens I added a literary correspondence with a friend whose
residence should be in Paris, who should give me occasional information
upon public affairs, less for the gratification of my curiosity, than to
afford a kind of relaxation by hearing of and lamenting the busy follies
of men. ‘Shall not I be happy?’ added I; ‘will not my utmost wishes be
thus gratified?’ This project flattered my inclinations extremely. But
after all the details of this most admirable and prudent plan, I felt
that my heart still yearned for something; and that in order to leave
nothing to desire in this most enchanting retirement, one ought to be
able to share it with Manon.
"However, Tiberge continuing to pay me frequent visits in order to
strengthen me in the purpose with which he had inspired me, I took an
opportunity of opening the subject to my father. He declared that his
intention ever was to leave his children free to choose a profession,
and that in whatever manner I should dispose of myself, all he wished to
reserve was the right of aiding me with his counsel. On this occasion he
gave me some of the wisest, which tended less to divert me from my
project, than to convince me of my good father’s sound judgment and
discretion.
The recommencement of the scholastic year being at hand, Tiberge and
I agreed to enter ourselves together at St. Sulpice, he to pursue his
theological studies, and I to begin mine. His merits, which were not
unknown to the bishop of the diocese, procured him the promise of a
living from that prelate before our departure.
"My father, thinking me quite cured of my passion, made no objection
to my taking final leave. We arrived at Paris. The Cross of Malta gave
place to the ecclesiastical habit, and the designation of the Abbe de
Grieux was substituted for that of chevalier. I applied so diligently to
study, that in a few months I had made extraordinary progress. I never
lost a moment of the day, and employed even part of the night. I soon
acquired such a reputation, that I was already congratulated upon the
honours which I was sure of obtaining; and, without solicitation on my
part, my name was inscribed on the list for a vacant benefice. Piety was
by no means neglected, and I entered with ardent devotion into all the
exercises of religion. Tiberge was proud of what he considered the work
of his own hands, and many a time have I seen him shed tears of delight
in noticing what he styled my perfect conversion.
"It has never been matter of wonder to me that human resolutions are
liable to change; one passion gives them birth, another may destroy
them; but when I reflect upon the sacredness of those motives that led
me to St. Sulpice, and upon the heartfelt satisfaction I enjoyed while
obeying their dictation, I shudder at the facility with which I outraged
them all. If it be true that the benign succour afforded by Heaven is at
all times equal to the strongest of man’s pinions, I shall be glad to
learn the nature of the deplorable ascendancy which causes us suddenly
to swerve from the path of duty, without the power of offering the least
resistance, and without even the slightest visitation of remorse.
"I now thought myself entirely safe from the dangers of love. I
fancied that I could have preferred a single page of St. Augustine, or a
quarter of an hour of Christian meditation, to every sensual
gratification, not excepting any that I might have derived even from
Manon’s society. Nevertheless, one unlucky moment plunged me again
headlong into the gulf; and my ruin was the more irreparable, because,
falling at once to the same depth from whence I had been before rescued,
each of the new disorders into which I now lapsed carried me deeper and
deeper still down the profound abyss of vice. I had passed nearly a year
at Paris without hearing of Manon. It cost me no slight effort to
abstain from enquiry; but the unintermitting advice of Tiberge, and my
own reflections, secured this victory over my wishes. The last months
glided away so tranquilly, that I considered the memory of this charming
but treacherous creature about to be consigned to eternal oblivion.
"The time arrived when I was to undergo a public examination in the
class of theology: I invited several persons of consideration to honour
me with their presence on the occasion. My name was mentioned in every
quarter of Paris: it even reached the ears of her who had betrayed me.
She had some difficulty in recognising it with the prefix of Abbe; but
curiosity, or perhaps remorse for having been faithless to me (I could
never after ascertain by which of these feelings she was actuated), made
her at once take an interest in a name so like mine; and she came with
several other women to the Sorbonne, where she was present at my
examination, and had doubtless little trouble in recognising my person.
"I had not the remotest suspicion of her presence. It is well known
that in these places there are private seats for ladies, where they
remain screened by a curtain. I returned to St. Sulpice covered with
honours and congratulations. It was six in the evening. The moment I
returned, a lady was announced, who desired to speak with me. I went to
meet her. Heavens! what a surprise!
It was Manon. It was she indeed, but more bewitching and brilliant
than I had ever beheld her. She was now in her eighteenth year. Her
beauty beggars all description. The exquisite grace of her form, the
mild sweetness of expression that animated her features, and her
engaging air, made her seem the very personification of love. The vision
was something too perfect for human beauty.
"I stood like one enchanted at beholding her. Unable to divine the
object of her visit, I waited trembling and with downcast looks until
she explained herself. At first, her embarrassment was equal to mine;
but, seeing that I was not disposed to break silence, she raised her
hand to her eyes to conceal a starting tear, and then, in a timid tone,
said that she well knew she had justly earned my abhorrence by her
infidelity; but that if I had ever really felt any love for her, there
was not much kindness in allowing two long years to pass without
enquiring after her, and as little now in seeing her in the state of
mental distress in which she was, without condescending to bestow upon
her a single word. I shall not attempt to describe what my feelings were
as I listened to this reproof.
"She seated herself. I remained standing, with my face half turned
aside, for I could not muster courage to meet her look. I several times
commenced a reply without power to conclude it. At length I made an
effort, and in a tone of poignant grief exclaimed: ‘Perfidious Manon!
perfidious, perfidious creature!’ She had no wish, she repeated with a
flood of tears, to attempt to justify her infidelity. ‘What is your
wish, then?’ cried I. ‘I wish to die,’ she answered, ‘if you will not
give me back that heart, without which it is impossible to endure life.’
‘Take my life too, then, faithless girl!’ I exclaimed, in vain
endeavouring to restrain my tears; ‘take my life also! it is the sole
sacrifice that remains for me to make, for my heart has never ceased to
be thine.’
"I had hardly uttered these words, when she rose in a transport of
joy, and approached to embrace me. She loaded me with a thousand
caresses. She addressed me by all the endearing appellations with which
love supplies his votaries, to enable them to express the most
passionate fondness. I still answered with affected coldness; but the
sudden transition from a state of quietude, such as that I had up to
this moment enjoyed, to the agitation and tumult which were now kindled
in my breast and tingled through my veins, thrilled me with a kind of
horror, and impressed me with a vague sense that I was about to undergo
some great transformation, and to enter upon a new existence.
"We sat down close by each other. I took her hand within mine, ‘Ah!
Manon,’ said I, with a look of sorrow, ‘I little thought that love like
mine could have been repaid with treachery! It was a poor triumph to
betray a heart of which you were the absolute mistress--whose sole
happiness it was to gratify and obey you. Tell me if among others you
have found any so affectionate and so devoted? No, no! I believe nature
has cast few hearts in the same mould as mine. Tell me at least whether
you have ever thought of me with regret! Can I have any reliance on the
duration of the feeling that has brought you back to me today? I
perceive too plainly that you are infinitely lovelier than ever: but I
conjure you by all my past sufferings, dearest Manon, to tell me--can
you in future be more faithful?’
"She gave me in reply such tender assurances of her repentance, and
pledged her fidelity with such solemn protestations and vows, that I was
inexpressibly affected. ‘Beauteous Manon,’ said I, with rather a profane
mixture of amorous and theological expressions, ‘you are too adorable
for a created being. I feel my heart transported with triumphant
rapture. It is folly to talk of liberty at St. Sulpice. Fortune and
reputation are but slight sacrifices at such a shrine! I plainly foresee
it: I can read my destiny in your bright eyes; but what abundant
recompense shall I not find in your affections for any loss I may
sustain! The favours of fortune have no influence over me: fame itself
appears to me but a mockery; all my projects of a holy life were wild
absurdities: in fact, any joys but those I may hope for at your side are
fit objects of contempt. There are none that would not vanish into
worthlessness before one single glance of thine!’
"In promising her, however, a full remission of her past frailties, I
enquired how she permitted herself to be led astray by B----. She
informed me that having seen her at her window, he became passionately
in love with her; that he made his advances in the true style of a
mercantile cit;--that is to say, by giving her to understand in his
letter, that his payments would be proportioned to her favours; that she
had admitted his overtures at first with no other intention than that of
getting from him such a sum as might enable us to live without
inconvenience; but that he had so bewildered her with splendid promises,
that she allowed herself to be misled by degrees. She added, that I
ought to have formed some notion of the remorse she experienced, by her
grief on the night of our separation; and assured me that, in spite of
the splendour in which he maintained her, she had never known a moment’s
happiness with him, not only, she said, because he was utterly devoid of
that delicacy of sentiment and of those agreeable manners which I
possessed, but because even in the midst of the amusements which he
unceasingly procured her, she could never shake off the recollection of
my love, or her own ingratitude. She then spoke of Tiberge, and the
extreme embarrassment his visit caused her. ‘A dagger’s point,’ she
added, ‘could not have struck more terror to my heart. I turned from
him, unable to sustain the interview for a moment.’
"She continued to inform me how she had been apprised of my residence
at Paris, of the change in my condition, and of her witnessing my
examination at the Sorbonne. She told me how agitated she had been
during my intellectual conflict with the examiner; what difficulty she
felt in restraining her tears as well as her sighs, which were more than
once on the point of spurning all control, and bursting forth; that she
was the last person to leave the hall of examination, for fear of
betraying her distress, and that, following only the instinct of her own
heart, and her ardent desires, she came direct to the seminary, with the
firm resolution of surrendering life itself, if she found me cruel
enough to withhold my forgiveness.
"Could any savage remain unmoved by such proofs of cordial repentance
as those I had just witnessed? For my part, I felt at the moment that I
could gladly have given up all the bishoprics in Christendom for Manon.
I asked what course she would recommend in our present emergency. ‘It is
requisite,’ she replied, ‘at all events, to quit the seminary, and
settle in some safer place.’ I consented to everything she proposed. She
got into her carriage to go and wait for me at the corner of the street.
I escaped the next moment, without attracting the porter’s notice. I
entered the carriage, and we drove off to a Jew’s. I there resumed my
lay-dress and sword. Manon furnished the supplies, for I was without a
sou, and fearing that I might meet with some new impediment, she would
not consent to my returning to my room at St. Sulpice for my purse. My
finances were in truth wretchedly low, and hers more than sufficiently
enriched by the liberality of M. de B---- to make her think lightly of
my loss. We consulted together at the Jew’s as to the course we should
now adopt.
"In order to enhance the sacrifice she had made for me of her late
lover, she determined to treat him without the least ceremony. ‘I shall
leave him all his furniture,’ she said; ‘it belongs to him: but I shall
assuredly carry off, as I have a right to do, the jewels, and about
sixty thousand francs, which I have had from him in the last two years.
I have given him no control over me,’ she added, ‘so that we may remain
without apprehension in Paris, taking a convenient house, where we shall
live, oh how happily together!’
"I represented to her that, although there might be no danger for
her, there was a great deal for me, who must be sooner or later
infallibly recognised, and continually exposed to a repetition of the
trials I had before endured. She gave me to understand that she could
not quit Paris without regret. I had such a dread of giving her
annoyance, that there were no risks I would not have encountered for her
sake. However, we compromised matters by resolving to take a house in
some village near Paris, from whence it would be easy for us to come
into town whenever pleasure or business required it. We fixed on
Chaillot, which is at a convenient distance. Manon at once returned to
her house, and I went to wait for her at a side-gate of the garden of
the Tuileries.
"She returned an hour after, in a hired carriage, with a
servant-maid, and several trunks, which contained her dresses, and
everything she had of value.
"We were not long on our way to Chaillot. We lodged the first night
at the inn, in order to have time to find a suitable house, or at least
a commodious lodging. We found one to our taste the next morning.
"My happiness now appeared to be secured beyond the reach of fate.
Manon was everything most sweet and amiable. She was so delicate and so
unceasing in her attentions to me, that I deemed myself but too
bountifully rewarded for all my past troubles. As we had both, by this
time, acquired some experience, we discussed rationally the state of our
finances. Sixty thousand francs (the amount of our wealth) was not a sum
that could be expected to last our whole life; besides, we were neither
of us much disposed to control our expenses. Manon’s chief virtue
assuredly was not economy, any more than it was mine. This was my
proposition. ‘Sixty thousand francs,’ said I, ‘may support us for ten
years. Two thousand crowns a year will suffice, if we continue to live
at Chaillot. We shall keep up appearances, but live frugally. Our only
expense will be occasionally a carriage, and the theatres. We shall do
everything in moderation. You like the opera; we shall go twice a week,
in the season. As for play, we shall limit ourselves; so that our losses
must never exceed three crowns. It is impossible but that in the space
of ten years some change must occur in my family: my father is even now
of an advanced age; he may die; in which event I must inherit a fortune,
and we shall then be above all other fears.’
"This arrangement would not have been by any means the most silly act
of my life, if we had only been prudent enough to persevere in its
execution; but our resolutions hardly lasted longer than a month.
Manon’s passion was for amusement; she was the only object of mine. New
temptations to expense constantly presented themselves, and far from
regretting the money which she sometimes prodigally lavished, I was the
first to procure for her everything likely to afford her pleasure. Our
residence at Chaillot began even to appear tiresome.
"Winter was approaching, and the whole world returning to town; the
country had a deserted look. She proposed to me to take a house in
Paris. I did not approve of this; but, in order partly at least to
satisfy her, I said that we might hire furnished apartments, and that we
might sleep there whenever we were late in quitting the assembly,
whither we often went; for the inconvenience of returning so late to
Chaillot was her excuse for wishing to leave it. We had thus two
dwellings, one in town and the other in the country. This change soon
threw our affairs into confusion, and led to two adventures, which
eventually caused our ruin.
"Manon had a brother in the Guards. He unfortunately lived in the
very street in which we had taken lodgings. He one day recognised his
sister at the window, and hastened over to us. He was a fellow of the
rudest manners, and without the slightest principle of honour. He
entered the room swearing in the most horrible way; and as he knew part
of his sister’s history, he loaded her with abuse and reproaches.
"I had gone out the moment before, which was doubtless fortunate for
either him or me, for I was little disposed to brook an insult. I only
returned to the lodgings after he had left them. The low spirits in
which I found Manon convinced me at once that something extraordinary
had occurred. She told me of the provoking scene she had just gone
through, and of the brutal threats of her brother. I felt such
indignation, that I wished to proceed at once to avenge her, when she
entreated me with tears to desist.
"While we were still talking of the adventure, the guardsman again
entered the room in which we sat, without even waiting to be announced.
Had I known him, he should not have met from me as civil a reception as
he did; but saluting us with a smile upon his countenance, he addressed
himself to Manon, and said, he was come to make excuses for his
violence; that he had supposed her to be living a life of shame and
disgrace, and it was this notion that excited his rage; but having since
made enquiry from one of our servants, he had learned such a character
of me, that his only wish was now to be on terms with us both.
"Although this admission, of having gone for information to one of my
own servants, had in it something ludicrous as well as indelicate, I
acknowledged his compliments with civility, I thought by doing so to
please Manon, and I was not deceived--she was delighted at the
reconciliation. We made him stay to dine with us.
"In a little time he became so familiar, that hearing us speak of our
return to Chaillot, he insisted on accompanying us. We were obliged to
give him a seat in our carriage. This was in fact putting him into
possession, for he soon began to feel so much pleasure in our company,
that he made our house his home, and made himself in some measure master
of all that belonged to us. He called me his brother, and, under the
semblance of fraternal freedom, he put himself on such a footing as to
introduce all his friends without ceremony into our house at Chaillot,
and there entertain them at our expense. His magnificent uniforms were
procured of my tailor and charged to me, and he even contrived to make
Manon and me responsible for all his debts. I pretended to be blind to
this system of tyranny, rather than annoy Manon, and even to take no
notice of the sums of money which from time to time he received from
her. No doubt, as he played very deep, he was honest enough to repay her
a part sometimes, when luck turned in his favour; but our finances were
utterly inadequate to supply, for any length of time, demands of such
magnitude and frequency.
"I was on the point of coming to an understanding with him, in order
to put an end to the system, when an unfortunate accident saved me that
trouble, by involving us in inextricable ruin.
"One night we stopped in Paris to sleep, as it had now indeed become
our constant habit. The servant-maid who on such occasions remained
alone at Chaillot, came early the next morning to inform me that our
house had taken fire in the night, and that the flames had been
extinguished with great difficulty. I asked whether the furniture had
suffered. She answered, that there had been such confusion, owing to the
multitude of strangers who came to offer assistance, that she could
hardly ascertain what damage had been done. I was principally uneasy
about our money, which had been locked up in a little box. I went off in
haste to Chaillot. Vain hope! the box had disappeared!
"I discovered that one could love money without being a miser. This
loss afflicted me to such a degree that I was almost out of my mind. I
saw at one glance to what new calamities I should be exposed: poverty
was the least of them. I knew Manon thoroughly; I had already had
abundant proof that, although faithful and attached to me under happier
circumstances, she could not be depended upon in want: pleasure and
plenty she loved too well to sacrifice them for my sake. ‘I shall lose
her!’ I cried; ‘miserable chevalier! you are about then to lose all that
you love on earth!’ This thought agitated me to such a degree that I
actually for some moments considered whether it would not be best for me
to end at once all my miseries by death. I however preserved presence of
mind enough to reflect whether I was entirely without resource, and an
idea occurred to me which quieted my despair. It would not be
impossible, I thought, to conceal our loss from Manon; and I might
perhaps discover some ways and means of supplying her, so as to ward off
the inconveniences of poverty.
"I had calculated in endeavouring to comfort myself, that twenty
thousand crowns would support us for ten years. Suppose that these ten
years had now elapsed, and that none of the events which I had looked
for in my family had occurred. What then would have been my course? I
hardly know; but whatever I should then have done, why may I not do now?
How many are there in Paris, who have neither my talents, nor the
natural advantages I possess, and who, notwithstanding, owe their
support to the exercise of their talents, such as they are?
"‘Has not Providence,’ I added, while reflecting on the different
conditions of life, ‘arranged things wisely?’ The greater number of the
powerful and the rich are fools. No one who knows anything of the world
can doubt that. How admirable is the compensating justice thereof! If
wealth brought with it talent also, the rich would be too happy, and
other men too wretched. To these latter are given personal advantages
and genius, to help them out of misery and want. Some of them share the
riches of the wealthy by administering to their pleasures, or by making
them their dupes; others afford them instruction, and endeavour to make
them decent members of society; to be sure, they do not always succeed;
but that was probably not the intention of the divine wisdom. In every
case they derive a benefit from their labours by living at the expense
of their pupils; and, in whatever point of view it is considered, the
follies of the rich are a bountiful source of revenue to the humbler
classes.
"These thoughts restored me a little to my spirits and to my reason.
I determined first to consult M. Lescaut, the brother of Manon. He knew
Paris perfectly; and I had too many opportunities of learning that it
was neither from his own estates, nor from the king’s pay, that he
derived the principal portion of his income. I had about thirty-three
crowns left, which I fortunately happened to have about me. I showed him
my purse, and explained to him my misfortune and my fears, and then
asked him whether I had any alternative between starvation and blowing
out my brains in despair. He coolly replied that suicide was the
resource of fools. As to dying of want, there were hundreds of men of
genius who found themselves reduced to that state when they would not
employ their talents; that it was for myself to discover what I was
capable of doing, and he told me to reckon upon his assistance and his
advice in any enterprise I might undertake.
"‘Vague enough, M. Lescaut!’ said I to him: ‘my wants demand a more
speedy remedy; for what am I to say to Manon?’ ‘Apropos of Manon,’
replied he, ‘what is it that annoys you about her? Cannot you always
find in her wherewithal to meet your wants, when you wish it? Such a
person ought to support us all, you and me as well as herself.’ He cut
short the answer which I was about to give to such unfeeling and brutal
impertinence, by going on to say, that before night he would ensure me a
thousand crowns to divide between us, if I would only follow his advice;
that he was acquainted with a nobleman, who was so liberal in affairs of
the kind, that he was certain he would not hesitate for a moment to give
the sum named for the favours of such a girl as Manon.
"I stopped him. ‘I had a better opinion of you,’ said I; ‘I had
imagined that your motive for bestowing your friendship upon me was very
different indeed from the one you now betray.’ With the greatest
effrontery he acknowledged that he had been always of the same mind, and
that his sister having once sacrificed her virtue, though it might be to
the man she most loved, he would never have consented to a
reconciliation with her, but with the hope of deriving some advantage
from her past misconduct.
"It was easy to see that we had been hitherto his dupes.
Notwithstanding the disgust with which his proposition inspired me,
still, as I felt that I had occasion for his services, I said, with
apparent complacency, that we ought only to entertain such a plan as a
last resource. I begged of him to suggest some other.
"He proposed to me to turn my youth and the good looks nature had
bestowed upon me to some account, by establishing a liaison with some
generous old dame. This was just as little to my taste, for it would
necessarily have rendered me unfaithful to Manon.
"I mentioned play as the easiest scheme, and the most suitable to my
present situation. He admitted that play certainly was a resource, but
that it was necessary to consider the point well. ‘Mere play,’ said he,
‘with its ordinary chances, is the certain road to ruin; and as for
attempting, alone and without an ally, to employ the little means an
adroit man has for correcting the vagaries of luck, it would be too
dangerous an experiment.’ There was, he stated, a third course, which
was to enter into what he called a partnership; but he feared his
confederates would consider my youth an objection to my admittance. He,
however, promised to use his influence with them; and, what was more
than I expected at his hands, he said that he would supply me with a
little money whenever I had pressing occasion for any. The only favour I
then asked of him was to say nothing to Manon of the loss I had
experienced, nor of the subject of our conversation.
"I certainly derived little comfort from my visit to Lescaut; I felt
even sorry for having confided my secret to him: not a single thing had
he done for me that I might not just as well have done for myself,
without troubling him; and I could not help dreading that he would
violate his promise to keep the secret from Manon. I had also reason to
apprehend, from his late avowals, that he might form the design of
making use of her for his own vile purposes, or at least of advising her
to quit me for some happier and more wealthy lover. This idea brought in
its train a thousand reflections, which had no other effect than to
torment me, and throw me again into the state of despair in which I had
passed the morning. It occurred to me, more than once, to write to my
father; and to pretend a new reformation, in order to obtain some
pecuniary assistance from him; but I could not forget that,
notwithstanding all his natural love and affection for me, he had shut
me up for six months in a confined room for my first transgression; and
I was certain that, after the scandalous sensation caused by my flight
from St. Sulpice, he would be sure to treat me with infinitely more
rigour now.
"At length, out of this chaos of fancies came an idea that all at
once restored ease to my mind, and which I was surprised at not having
hit upon sooner; this was, to go again to my friend Tiberge, in whom I
might be always sure of finding the same unfailing zeal and friendship.
There is nothing more glorious--nothing that does more honour to true
virtue, than the confidence with which one approaches a friend of tried
integrity; no apprehension, no risk of unkind repulse: if it be not
always in his power to afford the required succour, one is sure at least
of meeting kindness and compassion. The heart of the poor supplicant,
which remains impenetrably closed to the rest of the world, opens in his
presence, as a flower expands before the orb of day, from which it
instinctively knows it can derive a cheering and benign influence only.
"I consider it a blessing to have thought so apropos of Tiberge, and
resolved to take measures to find him before evening. I returned at once
to my lodgings to write him a line, and fix a convenient place for our
meeting. I requested secrecy and discretion, as the most important
service he could render me under present circumstances.
"The pleasure I derived from the prospect of seeing Tiberge
dissipated every trace of melancholy, which Manon would not have failed
otherwise to detect in my countenance. I described our misfortune at
Chaillot as a trifle which ought not to annoy her; and Paris being the
spot she liked best in the world, she was not sorry to hear me say that
it would be necessary for us to remain there entirely, until the little
damage was repaired which had been caused by the fire at Chaillot.
"In an hour I received an answer from Tiberge, who promised to be at
the appointed rendezvous. I went there punctually. I certainly felt some
shame at encountering a friend whose presence alone ought to be a
reproach to my iniquities; but I was supported by the opinion I had of
the goodness of his heart, as well as by my anxiety about Manon.
"I had begged of him to meet me in the garden of the Palais Royal. He
was there before me. He hastened towards me, the moment he saw me
approach and shook me warmly by both hands. I said that I could not help
feeling perfectly ashamed to meet him, and that I was weighed down by a
sense of my ingratitude; that the first thing I implored of him was to
tell me whether I might still consider him my friend, after having so
justly incurred the loss of his esteem and affection. He replied, in the
kindest possible manner, that it was not in the nature of things to
destroy his regard for me; that my misfortunes even, or, if he might so
call them, my faults and transgressions, had but increased the interest
he felt for me; but that he must confess his affection was not unalloyed
by a sentiment of the liveliest sorrow, such as a person may be supposed
to feel at seeing a beloved object on the brink of ruin, and beyond the
reach of his assistance.
"We sat down upon a bench. ‘Alas!’ said I with a deep sigh, ‘your
compassion must be indeed great, my dear Tiberge, if you assure me it is
equal to my sufferings. I am almost ashamed to recount them, for I
confess they have been brought on by no very creditable course of
conduct: the results, however, are so truly melancholy, that a friend
even less attached than you would be affected by the recital.’
"He then begged of me, in proof of friendship, to let him know,
without any disguise, all that had occurred to me since my departure
from St. Sulpice. I gratified him; and so far from concealing anything,
or attempting to extenuate my faults, I spoke of my passion with all the
ardour with which it still inspired me. I represented it to him as one
of those especial visitations of fate, which draw on the devoted victim
to his ruin, and which it is as impossible for virtue itself to resist,
as for human wisdom to foresee. I painted to him in the most vivid
colours, my excitement, my fears, the state of despair in which I had
been two hours before I saw him, and into which I should be again
plunged, if I found my friends as relentless as fate had been. I at
length made such an impression upon poor Tiberge, that I saw he was as
much affected by compassion, as I by the recollection of my sufferings.
"He took my hand, and exhorted me to have courage and be comforted;
but, as he seemed to consider it settled that Manon and I were to
separate, I gave him at once to understand that it was that very
separation I considered as the most intolerable of all my misfortunes;
and that I was ready to endure not only the last degree of misery, but
death itself, of the cruellest kind, rather than seek relief in a remedy
worse than the whole accumulation of my woes.
"‘Explain yourself, then,’ said he to me; ‘what assistance can I
afford you, if you reject everything I propose?’ I had not courage to
tell him that it was from his purse I wanted relief. He, however,
comprehended it in the end; and acknowledging that he believed he now
understood me, he remained for a moment in an attitude of thought, with
the air of a person revolving something in his mind. ‘Do not imagine,’
he presently said, ‘that my hesitation arises from any diminution of my
zeal and friendship; but to what an alternative do you now reduce me,
since I must either refuse you the assistance you ask, or violate my
most sacred duty in affording it! For is it not participating in your
sin to furnish you with the means of continuing its indulgence?’
"‘However,’ continued he, after a moment’s thought, ‘it is perhaps
the excited state into which want has thrown you, that denies you now
the liberty of choosing the proper path. Man’s mind must be at rest, to
know the luxury of wisdom and virtue. I can afford to let you have some
money; and permit me, my dear chevalier, to impose but one condition;
that is, that you let me know the place of your abode, and allow me the
opportunity of using my exertions to reclaim you. I know that there is
in your heart a love of virtue, and that you have been only led astray
by the violence of your passions.’
"I, of course, agreed to everything he asked, and only begged of him
to deplore the malign destiny which rendered me callous to the counsels
of so virtuous a friend. He then took me to a banker of his
acquaintance, who gave one hundred and seventy crowns for his note of
hand, which was taken as cash. I have already said that he was not rich.
His living was worth about six thousand francs a year, but as this was
the first year since his induction, he had as yet touched none of the
receipts, and it was out of the future income that he made me this
advance.
"I felt the full force of his generosity, even to such a degree as
almost to deplore the fatal passion which thus led me to break through
all the restraints of duty. Virtue had for a moment the ascendancy in my
heart, and made me sensible of my shame and degradation. But this was
soon over. For Manon I could have given up my hopes of heaven, and when
I again found myself at her side, I wondered how I could for an instant
have considered myself degraded by my passion for this enchanting girl.
"Manon was a creature of most extraordinary disposition. Never had
mortal a greater contempt for money, and yet she was haunted by
perpetual dread of wanting it. Her only desire was for pleasure and
amusement. She would never have wished to possess a sou, if pleasure
could be procured without money. She never even cared what our purse
contained, provided she could pass the day agreeably; so that, being
neither fond of play nor at all dazzled by the desire of great wealth,
nothing was more easy than to satisfy her, by daily finding out
amusements suited to her moderate wishes. But it became by habit a thing
so absolutely necessary for her to have her mind thus occupied, that,
without it, it was impossible to exercise the smallest influence over
her temper or inclinations. Although she loved me tenderly, and I was
the only person, as she often declared, in whose society she could ever
find the pure enjoyments of love, yet I felt thoroughly convinced that
her attachment could not withstand certain apprehensions. She would have
preferred me, even with a moderate fortune, to the whole world; but I
had no kind of doubt that she would, on the other hand, abandon me for
some new M. de B----, when I had nothing more to offer her than fidelity
and love.
"I resolved therefore so to curtail my own individual expenses, as to
be able always to meet hers, and rather to deprive myself of a thousand
necessaries than even to limit her extravagance. The carriage made me
more uneasy than anything else, for I saw no chance of being able to
maintain either coachman or horses.
"I told M. Lescaut of my difficulties, and did not conceal from him
that I had received a thousand francs from a friend. He repeated, that
if I wished to try the chances of the gaming-table, he was not without
hopes that, by spending a few crowns in entertaining his associates, I
might be, on his recommendation, admitted into the association. With all
my repugnance to cheating, I yielded to dire necessity.
"Lescaut presented me that night as a relation of his own. He added,
that I was the more likely to succeed in my new profession, from wanting
the favours of fortune. However, to show them that I was not quite
reduced to the lowest ebb, he said it was my intention to treat them
with a supper. The offer was accepted, and I entertained them en prince.
They talked a good deal about my fashionable appearance and the apparent
amiability of my disposition; they said that the best hopes might be
entertained of me, because there was something in my countenance that
bespoke the gentleman, and no one therefore could have a suspicion of my
honesty: they voted thanks to Lescaut for having introduced so promising
a novice, and deputed one of the members to instruct me for some days in
the necessary manoeuvres.
"The principal scene of my exploits was the hotel of Transylvania,
where there was a faro table in one room, and other games of cards and
dice in the gallery. This academy was kept by the Prince of R----, who
then lived at Clagny, and most of his officers belonged to our society.
Shall I mention it to my shame? I profited quickly by my instructor’s
tuition. I acquired an amazing facility in sleight of hand tricks, and
learned in perfection to sauter le coup; with the help of a pair of long
ruffles, I shuffled so adroitly as to defy the quickest observer, and I
ruined several fair players. My unrivalled skill so quickened the
progress of my fortunes, that I found myself master, in a few weeks, of
very considerable sums, besides what I divided in good faith with my
companions.
"I had no longer any fear of communicating to Manon the extent of our
loss at Chaillot, and, to console her on the announcement of such
disastrous news, I took a furnished house, where we established
ourselves in all the pride of opulence and security.
"Tiberge was in the habit, at this period, of paying me frequent
visits. He was never tired of his moral lectures. Over and over again
did he represent to me the injury I was inflicting upon my conscience,
my honour, and my fortune. I received all his advice kindly, and
although I had not the smallest inclination to adopt it, I had no doubt
of its sincerity, for I knew its source. Sometimes I rallied him
good-humouredly, and entreated him not to be more tight-laced than some
other priests were, and even bishops, who by no means considered a
mistress incompatible with a good and holy life.’ ‘Look,’ I said, at
Manon’s eyes, and tell me if there is one in the long catalogue of sins
that might not there find a plea of justification.’ He bore these
sallies patiently, and carried his forbearance almost too far: but when
he saw my funds increase, and that I had not only returned him the
hundred and seventy crowns, but having hired a new house and trebled my
expenses, I had plunged deeper than ever into a life of pleasure, he
changed his tone and manner towards me. He lamented my obduracy. He
warned me against the chastisement of the Divine wrath, and predicted
some of the miseries with which indeed I was shortly afterwards visited.
‘It is impossible,’ he said, ‘that the money which now serves to support
your debaucheries can have been acquired honourably. You have come by it
unjustly, and in the same way shall it be taken from you. The most awful
punishment Heaven could inflict would be to allow you the undisturbed
enjoyment of it. All my advice,’ he added, ‘has been useless; I too
plainly perceive that it will shortly become troublesome to you. I now
take my leave; you are a weak, as well as an ungrateful friend! May your
criminal enjoyments vanish as a shadow! may your ill-gotten wealth leave
you without a resource; and may you yourself remain alone and deserted,
to learn the vanity of these things, which now divert you from better
pursuits! When that time arrives, you will find me disposed to love and
to serve you; this day ends our intercourse, and I once for all avow my
horror of the life you are leading.’
"It was in my room and in Manon’s presence that he delivered this
apostolical harangue. He rose to depart. I was about to detain him; but
was prevented by Manon, who said it was better to let the madman go.
"What he said, however, did not fail to make some impression upon me.
I notice these brief passages of my life when I experienced a returning
sentiment of virtue, because it was to those traces, however light, that
I was afterwards indebted for whatever of fortitude I displayed under
the most trying circumstances.
"Manon’s caresses soon dissipated the annoyance this scene had caused
me. We continued to lead a life entirely devoted to pleasure and love.
The increase of our wealth only redoubled our affection. There none
happier among all the devotees of Venus and Fortune. Heavens! why call
this a world of misery, when it can furnish a life of such rapturous
enjoyment? But alas, it is too soon over! For what ought man to sigh,
could such felicity but last for ever? Ours shared the common fate--in
being of short duration, and followed by lasting regrets.
"I had realised by play such a considerable sum of money, that I
thought of investing a portion of it. My servants were not ignorant of
my good luck, particularly my valet and Manon’s own maid, before whom we
often talked without any reserve. The maid was handsome, and my valet in
love with her. They knew they had to deal with a young and inexperienced
couple, whom they fancied they could impose upon without much
difficulty. They laid a plan, and executed it with so much skill, that
they reduced us to a state from which it was never afterwards possible
for us to extricate ourselves.
"Having supped one evening at Lescaut’s, it was about midnight when
we returned home. I asked for my valet, and Manon for her maid; neither
one nor the other could be found. They had not been seen in the house
since eight o’clock, and had gone out, after having some cases carried
before them, according to orders which they pretended to have received
from me. I at once foresaw a part of the truth, but my suspicions were
infinitely surpassed by what presented itself on going into my room. The
lock of my closet had been forced, and my cash as well as my best
clothes were gone. While I stood stupefied with amazement, Manon came,
in the greatest alarm, to inform me that her apartment had been rifled
in the same manner.
"This blow was so perfectly astounding, so cruel, that it was with
difficulty I could refrain from tears. The dread of infecting Manon with
my despair made me assume a more contented air. I said, smiling, that I
should avenge myself upon some unhappy dupe at the hotel of
Transylvania. However, she appeared so sensibly affected, that her grief
increased my sorrow infinitely more than my attempt succeeded in
supporting her spirits. ‘We are destroyed!’ said she, with tears in her
eyes. I endeavoured, in vain, by my entreaties and caresses, to console
her. My own lamentations betrayed my distress and despair. In fact, we
were so completely ruined, that we were bereft almost of decent
covering.
"I determined to send off at once for Lescaut. He advised me to go
immediately to the lieutenant of police, and to give information also to
the Grand Provost of Paris. I went, but it was to add to my calamities
only; for, independently of my visit producing not the smallest good
effect, I, by my absence, allowed Lescaut time for discussion with his
sister, during which he did not fail to inspire her with the most
horrible resolutions. He spoke to her about M. G---- M----, an old
voluptuary, who paid prodigally for his pleasures; he so glowingly
described the advantages of such a connection, that she entered into all
his plans. This discreditable arrangement was all concluded before my
return, and the execution of it only postponed till the next morning,
after Lescaut should have apprised G---- M----.
"I found him, on my return, waiting for me at my house; but Manon had
retired to her own apartment, and she had desired the footman to tell me
that, having need of repose, she hoped she should not be disturbed that
night. Lescaut left me, after offering me a few crowns which I accepted.
"It was nearly four o’clock when I retired to bed; and having
revolved in my mind various schemes for retrieving my fortunes, I fell
asleep so late that I did not awake till between eleven and twelve
o’clock. I rose at once to enquire after Manon’s health; they told me
that she had gone out an hour before with her brother, who had come for
her in a hired carriage. Although there appeared something mysterious in
such a proceeding, I endeavoured to check my rising suspicions. I
allowed some hours to pass, during which I amused myself with reading.
At length, being unable any longer to stifle my uneasiness, I paced up
and down the apartments. A sealed letter upon Manon’s table at last
caught my eye. It was addressed to me, and in her handwriting. I felt my
blood freeze as I opened it; it was in these words:
I protest to you, dearest chevalier, that you are the idol of my
heart, and that you are the only being on earth whom I can truly love;
but do you not see, my own poor dear chevalier, that in the situation to
which we are now reduced, fidelity would be worse than madness? Do you
think tenderness possibly compatible with starvation? For my part,
hunger would be sure to drive me to some fatal end. Heaving some day a
sigh for love, I should find it was my last. I adore you, rely upon
that; but leave to me, for a short while, the management of our
fortunes. God help the man who falls into my hands. My only wish is to
render my chevalier rich and happy. My brother will tell you about me;
he can vouch for my grief in yielding to the necessity of parting from
you.
"I remained, after reading this, in a state which it would be
difficult to describe; for even now I know not the nature of the
feelings which then agitated me. It was one of those unique situations
of which others can never have experienced anything even approaching to
similarity. It is impossible to explain it, because other persons can
have no idea of its nature; and one can hardly even analyse it to
oneself. Memory furnishes nothing that will connect it with the past,
and therefore ordinary language is inadequate to describe it. Whatever
was its nature, however, it is certain that grief, hate, jealousy, and
shame entered into its composition. Fortunate would it have proved for
me if love also had not been a component part!
"‘That she loves me,’ I exclaimed, ‘I can believe; but could she,
without being a monster, hate me? What right can man ever have to
woman’s affections which I had not to Manon’s? What is left to me, after
all the sacrifices I have made for her sake? Yet she abandons me, and
the ungrateful creature thinks to screen herself from my reproaches by
professions of love! She pretends to dread starvation! God of love, what
grossness of sentiment! What an answer to the refinement of my
adoration! I had no dread of that kind; I, who have almost sought
starvation for her sake, by renouncing fortune and the comforts of my
father’s house! I, who denied myself actual necessaries, in order to
gratify her little whims and caprices! She adores me, she says. If you
adored me, ungrateful creature, I well know what course you would have
taken; you would never have quitted me, at least without saying adieu.
It is only I who can tell the pangs and torments, of being separated
from all one loves. I must have taken leave of my senses, to have
voluntarily brought all this misery upon myself.’
"My lamentations were interrupted by a visit I little expected; it
was from Lescaut. ‘Assassin!’ cried I, putting my hand upon my sword,
‘where is Manon? what have you done with her?’ My agitation startled
him. He replied, that if this was the reception he was to meet, when he
came to offer me the most essential service it was in his power to
render me, he should take his leave, and never again cross my threshold.
I ran to the door of the apartment, which I shut. ‘Do not imagine,’ I
said, turning towards him, ‘that you can once more make a dupe of me
with your lies and inventions. Either defend your life, or tell me where
I can find Manon.’ ‘How impatient you are!’ replied he; ‘that was in
reality the object of my visit. I came to announce a piece of good
fortune which you little expected, and for which you will probably feel
somewhat grateful.’ My curiosity was at once excited.
"He informed me that Manon, totally unable to endure the dread of
want, and, above all, the certainty of being at once obliged to dispense
with her equipage, had begged of him to make her acquainted with M.
G---- M----, who had a character for liberality. He carefully avoided
telling me that this was the result of his own advice, and that he had
prepared the way before he introduced his sister. ‘I took her there this
morning,’ said he, ‘and the fellow was so enchanted with her looks that
he at once invited her to accompany him to his country seat, where he is
gone to pass some days. As I plainly perceived,’ said Lescaut, ‘the
advantage it may be to you, I took care to let him know that she had
lately experienced very considerable losses; and I so piqued his
generosity that he began by giving her four hundred crowns. I told him
that was well enough for a commencement, but that my sister would have,
for the future, many demands for money; that she had the charge of a
young brother, who had been thrown upon her hands since the death of our
parents; and that, if he wished to prove himself worthy of her
affections, he would not allow her to suffer uneasiness upon account of
this child, whom she regarded as part of herself. This speech produced
its effect, he at once promised to take a house for you and Manon, for
you must know that you are the poor little orphan. He undertook to set
you up in furniture, and to give you four hundred livres a month, which
if I calculate rightly, will amount to four thousand eight hundred per
annum. He left orders with his steward to look out for a house, and to
have it in readiness by the time he returned. You will soon, therefore,
again see Manon, who begged of me to give you a thousand tender
messages, and to assure you that she loves you more dearly than ever.’
|
CHAPTER V
"On sitting down to reflect upon this strange turn of fate, I found
myself so perplexed, and consequently so incapable of arriving at any
rational conclusion, that I allowed Lescaut to put repeated questions to
me without in the slightest degree attending to their purport. It was
then that honour and virtue made me feel the most poignant remorse, and
that I recalled with bitterness Amiens, my father’s house, St. Sulpice,
and every spot where I had ever lived in happy innocence. By what a
terrific interval was I now separated from that blessed state! I beheld
it no longer but as a dim shadow in the distance, still attracting my
regrets and desires, but without the power of rousing me to exertion.
‘By what fatality,’ said I, ‘have I become thus degraded? Love is not a
guilty passion! why then has it been to me the source of profligacy and
distress? Who prevented me from leading a virtuous and tranquil life
with Manon? Why did I not marry her before I obtained any concession
from her love? Would not my father, who had the tenderest regard for me,
have given his consent, if I had taken the fair and candid course of
soliciting him? Yes, my father would himself have cherished her as one
far too good to be his son’s wife! I should have been happy in the love
of Manon, in the affection of my father, in the esteem of the world,
with a moderate portion of the good things of life, and above all with
the consciousness of virtue. Disastrous change! Into what an infamous
character is it here proposed that I should sink? To share---- But can I
hesitate, if Manon herself suggests it, and if I am to lose her except
upon such conditions? ‘Lescaut,’ said I, putting my hands to my eyes as
if to shut out such a horrifying vision, ‘if your intention was to
render me a service, I give you thanks. You might perhaps have struck
out a more reputable course, but it is so settled, is it not? Let us
then only think of profiting by your labour, and fulfilling your
engagements.’
"Lescaut, who had been considerably embarrassed, not only by my fury,
but by the long silence which followed it, was too happy to see me now
take a course so different from what he had anticipated. He had not a
particle of courage, of which indeed I have, in the sequel of my story,
abundant proof. ‘Yes, yes,’ he quickly answered, ‘it is good service I
have rendered you, and you will find that we shall derive infinitely
more advantage from it than you now expect.’ We consulted then as to the
best mode of preventing the suspicions which G---- M---- might entertain
of our relationship, when he found me older and of riper manhood than he
probably imagined. The only plan we could hit upon was to assume in his
presence an innocent and provincial air, and to persuade him that it was
my intention to enter the Church, and that with that view I was obliged
to go every day to the college. We also determined that I should appear
as awkward as I possibly could the first time I was admitted to the
honour of an introduction.
"He returned to town three or four days after, and at once conducted
Manon to the house which his steward had in the meantime prepared. She
immediately apprised Lescaut of her return, and he having informed me,
we went together to her new abode. The old lover had already gone out.
"In spite of the submission with which I had resigned myself to her
wishes, I could not, at our meeting, repress the compunctious visitings
of my conscience. I appeared before her grieved and dejected. The joy I
felt at seeing her once more could not altogether dispel my sorrow for
her infidelity: she, on the contrary, appeared transported with the
pleasure of seeing me. She accused me of coldness. I could not help
muttering the words perfidious and unfaithful, though they were
profusely mixed with sighs.
"At first she laughed at me for my simplicity; but when she found
that I continued to look at her with an unchanging expression of
melancholy, and that I could not bring myself to enter with alacrity
into a scene so repugnant to all my feelings, she went alone into her
boudoir. I very soon followed her, and then I found her in a flood of
tears. I asked the cause of her sorrow. ‘You can easily understand it,’
said she; ‘how can you wish me to live, if my presence can no longer
have any other effect than to give you an air of sadness and chagrin?
Not one kiss have you given me during the long hour you have been in the
house, while you have received my caresses with the dignified
indifference of a Grand Turk, receiving the forced homage of the
Sultanas of his harem.’
"‘Hearken to me, Manon,’ said I, embracing her; ‘I cannot conceal
from you that my heart is bitterly afflicted. I do not now allude to the
uneasiness your sudden flight caused me, nor to the unkindness of
quitting me without a word of consolation, after having passed the night
away from me. The pleasure of seeing you again would more than
compensate for all; but do you imagine that I can reflect without sighs
and tears upon the degrading and unhappy life which you now wish me to
lead in this house? Say nothing of my birth, or of my feelings of
honour; love like mine derives no aid from arguments of that feeble
nature; but do you imagine that I can without emotion see my love so
badly recompensed, or rather so cruelly treated, by an ungrateful and
unfeeling mistress?’
"She interrupted me. ‘Stop, chevalier,’ said she, ‘it is useless to
torture me with reproaches, which, coming from you, always pierce my
heart. I see what annoys you. I had hoped that you would have agreed to
the project which I had devised for mending our shattered fortunes, and
it was from a feeling of delicacy to you that I began the execution of
it without your assistance; but I give it up since it does not meet your
approbation.’ She added that she would now merely request a little
patient forbearance during the remainder of the day; that she had
already received five hundred crowns from the old gentleman, and that he
had promised to bring her that evening a magnificent pearl necklace with
other jewels, and, in advance, half of the yearly pension he had engaged
to allow her. ‘Leave me only time enough,’ said she to me, to get
possession of these presents; I promise you that he will have little to
boast of from his connection with me, for in the country I repulsed all
his advances, putting him off till our return to town. It is true that
he has kissed my hand a thousand times over, and it is but just that he
should pay for even this amusement: I am sure that, considering his
riches as well as his age, five or six thousand francs is not an
unreasonable price!’
"Her determination was of more value in my eyes than twenty thousand
crowns. I could feel that I was not yet bereft of every sentiment of
honour, by the satisfaction I experienced at escaping thus from infamy,
But I was born for brief joys, and miseries of long duration. Fate never
rescued me from one precipice, but to lead me to another. When I had
expressed my delight to Manon at this change in her intentions, I told
her she had better inform Lescaut of it, in order that we might take our
measures in concert. At first he murmured, but the money in hand induced
him to enter into our views. It was then determined that we should all
meet at G---- M----’s supper table, and that, for two reasons: first,
for the amusement of passing me off as a schoolboy, and brother to
Manon; and secondly, to prevent the old profligate from taking any
liberties with his mistress, on the strength of his liberal payments in
advance. Lescaut and I were to retire, when he went to the room where he
expected to pass the night; and Manon, instead of following him,
promised to come out, and join us. Lescaut undertook to have a coach
waiting at the door.
"The supper hour having arrived, M. G---- M---- made his appearance.
Already Lescaut was with his sister in the supper room. The moment the
lover entered, he presented his fair one with a complete set of pearls,
necklaces, ear-rings, and bracelets, which must have cost at least a
thousand crowns. He then placed on the table before her, in louis d’or,
two thousand four hundred francs, the half of her year’s allowance. He
seasoned his present with many pretty speeches in the true style of the
old court. Manon could not refuse him a few kisses: it was sealing her
right to the money which he had just handed to her. I was at the door,
and waiting for Lescaut’s signal to enter the room.
"He approached to take me by the hand, while Manon was securing the
money and jewels, and leading me towards M. G---- M----, he desired me
to make my bow. I made two or three most profound ones. ‘Pray excuse
him, sir,’ said Lescaut, ‘he is a mere child. He has not yet acquired
much of the ton of Paris; but no doubt with a little trouble we shall
improve him. You will often have the honour of seeing that gentleman,
here,’ said he, turning towards me : ‘take advantage of it, and
endeavour to imitate so good a model.’
"The old libertine appeared to be pleased with me. He patted me on
the cheek, saying that I was a fine boy, but that I should be on my
guard in Paris, where young men were easily debauched. Lescaut assured
him that I was naturally of so grave a character that I thought of
nothing but becoming a clergyman, and that, even as a child, my
favourite amusement was building little chapels. ‘I fancy a likeness to
Manon,’ said the old gentleman, putting his hand under my chin. I
answered him, with the most simple air-- ‘Sir, the fact is, that we are
very closely connected, and I love my sister as another portion of
myself.’ ‘Do you hear that,’ said he to Lescaut; ‘he is indeed a clever
boy! It is a pity he should not see something of the world.’ ‘Oh, sir,’
I replied, ‘I have seen a great deal of it at home, attending church,
and I believe I might find in Paris some greater fools than myself.’
‘Listen I said he; ‘it is positively wonderful in a boy from the
country.’
"The whole conversation during supper was of the same kind. Manon,
with her usual gaiety, was several times on the point of spoiling the
joke by her bursts of laughter. I contrived, while eating, to recount
his own identical history, and to paint even the fate that awaited him.
Lescaut and Manon were in an agony of fear during my recital, especially
while I was drawing his portrait to the life: but his own vanity
prevented him from recognising it, and I did it so well that he was the
first to pronounce it extremely laughable. You will allow that I had
reason for dwelling on this ridiculous scene.
At length it was time to retire. He hinted at the impatience of love.
Lescaut and I took our departure. G---- M---- went to his room, and
Manon, making some excuse for her absence, came to join us at the gate.
The coach, that was waiting for us a few doors off, drove up towards us,
and we were out of the street in an instant.
"Although I must confess that this proceeding appeared to me little
short of actual robbery, it was not the most dishonest one with which I
thought I had to reproach myself. I had more scruples about the money
which I had won at play. However, we derived as little advantage from
one as from the other; and Heaven sometimes ordains that the lightest
fault shall meet the severest punishment.
"M. G---- M---- was not long in finding out that he had been duped. I
am not sure whether he took any steps that night to discover us, but he
had influence enough to ensure an effectual pursuit, and we were
sufficiently imprudent to rely upon the extent of Paris and the distance
between our residence and his. Not only did he discover our abode and
our circumstances, but also who I was--the life that I had led in
Paris--Manon’s former connection with B----,--the manner in which she
had deceived him: in a word, all the scandalous facts of our history. He
therefore resolved to have us apprehended, and treated less as criminals
than as vagabonds. An officer came abruptly one morning into our
bedroom, with half a dozen archers of the guard. They first took
possession of our money, or I should rather say, of G----M----’s. They
made us quickly get up, and conducted us to the door, where we found two
coaches, into one of which they forced poor Manon, without any
explanation, and I was taken in the other to St. Lazare.
One must have experienced this kind of reverse, to understand the
despair that is caused by it. The police were savage enough to deny me
the consolation of embracing Manon, or of bidding her farewell. I
remained for a long time ignorant of her fate. It was perhaps fortunate
for me that I was kept in a state of ignorance, for had I known what she
suffered, I should have lost my senses, probably my life.
"My unhappy mistress was dragged then from my presence, and taken to
a place the very name of which fills me with horror to remember. This to
be the lot of a creature the most perfect, who must have shared the most
splendid throne on earth, if other men had only seen and felt as I did!
She was not treated harshly there, but was shut up in a narrow prison,
and obliged, in solitary confinement, to perform a certain quantity of
work each day, as a necessary condition for obtaining the most
unpalatable food. I did not learn this till a long time after, when I
had myself endured some months of rough and cruel treatment.
"My guards not having told me where it was that they had been ordered
to conduct me, it was only on my arrival at St. Lazare that I learned my
destination. I would have preferred death, at that moment, to the state
into which I believed myself about to be thrown. I had the utmost terror
of this place. My misery was increased by the guards on my entrance,
examining once more my pockets, to ascertain whether I had about me any
arms or weapons of defence.
"The governor appeared. He had been informed of my apprehension. He
saluted me with great mildness. ‘Do not, my good sir,’ said I to him,
‘allow me to be treated with indignity. I would suffer a hundred deaths
rather than quietly submit to degrading treatment.’ ‘No, no,’ he
replied, ‘you will act quietly and prudently, and we shall be mutually
content with each other.’ He begged of me to ascend to one of the
highest rooms; I followed him without a murmur. The archers accompanied
us to the door, and the governor, entering the room, made a sign for
them to depart. ‘I am your prisoner, I suppose?’ said I; ‘well, what do
you intend to do with me?’ He said, he was delighted to see me adopt so
reasonable a tone; that it would be his duty to endeavour to inspire me
with a taste for virtue and religion, and mine to profit by his
exhortations and advice: that lightly as I might be disposed to rate his
attentions to me, I should find nothing but enjoyment in my solitude.
‘Ah, enjoyment, indeed!’ replied I; "you do not know, my good sir, the
only thing on earth that could afford me enjoyment.’ ‘I know it,’ said
he, ‘but I trust your inclinations will change.’ His answer showed that
he had heard of my adventures, and perhaps of my name. I begged to know
if such were the fact. He told me candidly that they had informed him of
every particular.
"This blow was the severest of any I had yet experienced. I literally
shed a torrent of tears, in all the bitterness of unmixed despair; I
could not reconcile myself to the humiliation which would make me a
proverb to all my acquaintances, and the disgrace of my family. I passed
a week in the most profound dejection, without being capable of gaining
any information, or of occupying myself with anything but my own
degradation. The remembrance even of Manon added nothing to my grief; it
only occurred to me as a circumstance that had preceded my new sorrow;
and the sense of shame and confusion was at present the all-absorbing
passion.
"There are few persons who have experienced the force of these
special workings of the mind. The generality of men are only sensible of
five or six passions, in the limited round of which they pass their
lives, and within which all their agitations are confined. Remove them
from the influence of love and hate, pleasure and pain, hope and fear,
and they have no further feeling. But persons of a finer cast can be
affected in a thousand different ways; it would almost seem that they
had more than five senses, and that they are accessible to ideas and
sensations which far exceed the ordinary faculties of human nature; and,
conscious that they possess a capacity which raises them above the
common herd, there is nothing of which they are more jealous. Hence
springs their impatience under contempt and ridicule; and hence it is
that a sense of debasement is perhaps the most violent of all their
emotions.
"I had this melancholy advantage at St. Lazare. My grief appeared to
the governor so excessive, that, dreading the consequences, he thought
he was bound to treat me with more mildness and indulgence. He visited
me two or three times a day; he often made me take a turn with him in
the garden, and showed his interest for me in his exhortations and good
advice. I listened always attentively; and warmly expressed my sense of
his kindness, from which he derived hopes of my ultimate conversion.
"‘You appear to me,’ said he one day, ‘of a disposition so mild and
tractable, that I cannot comprehend the excesses into which you have
fallen. Two things astonish me: one is, how, with your good qualities,
you could have ever abandoned yourself to vice; and the other, which
amazes me still more, is, how you can receive with such perfect temper
my advice and instructions, after having lived so long in a course of
debauchery. If it be sincere repentance, you present a singular example
of the benign mercy of Heaven; if it proceed from the natural goodness
of your disposition, then you certainly have that within you which
warrants the hope that a protracted residence in this place will not be
required to bring you back to a regular and respectable life.’
"I was delighted to find that he had such an opinion of me. I
resolved to strengthen it by a continuance of good conduct, convinced
that it was the surest means of abridging the term of my confinement. I
begged of him to furnish me with books. He was agreeably surprised to
find that when he requested me to say what I should prefer, I mentioned
only some religious and instructive works. I pretended to devote myself
assiduously to study, and I thus gave him convincing proof of the moral
reformation he was so anxious to bring about. It was nothing, however,
but rank hypocrisy--I blush to confess it. Instead of studying, when
alone I did nothing but curse my destiny. I lavished the bitterest
execrations on my prison, and the tyrants who detained me there. If I
ceased for a moment from these lamentations, it was only to relapse into
the tormenting remembrance of my fatal and unhappy love. Manon’s
absence--the mystery in which her fate was veiled--the dread of never
again beholding her; these formed the subject of my melancholy thoughts.
I fancied her in the arms of G---- M----. Far from imagining that he
could have been brute enough to subject her to the same treatment to
which I was condemned, I felt persuaded that he had only procured my
removal, in order that he might possess her in undisturbed enjoyment.
"Oh! how miserable were the days and nights I thus passed! They
seemed to be of endless duration. My only hope of escape now, was in
hypocrisy; I scrutinised the countenance, and carefully marked every
observation that fell from the governor, in order to ascertain what he
really thought of me; and looking on him as the sole arbiter of my
future fate, I made it my study to win, if possible, his favour. I soon
had the satisfaction to find that I was firmly established in his good
graces, and no longer doubted his disposition to befriend me.
"I, one day, ventured to ask him whether my liberation depended on
him. He replied that it was not altogether in his hands, but that he had
no doubt that on his representation M. G---- M----, at whose instance
the lieutenant-general of police had ordered me to be confined, would
consent to my being set at liberty. ‘May I flatter myself,’ rejoined I,
in the mildest tone, ‘that he will consider two months, which I have now
spent in this prison, as a sufficient atonement?’ He offered to speak to
him, if I wished it. I implored him without delay to do me that favour.
"He told me two days afterwards that G---- M---- was so sensibly
affected by what he had heard, that he not only was ready to consent to
my liberation, but that he had even expressed a strong desire to become
better acquainted with me, and that he himself purposed to pay me a
visit in prison. Although his presence could not afford me much
pleasure, I looked upon it as a certain prelude to my liberation.
"He accordingly came to St. Lazare. I met him with an air more grave
and certainly less silly than I had exhibited at his house with Manon.
He spoke reasonably enough of my former bad conduct. He added, as if to
excuse his own delinquencies, that it was graciously permitted to the
weakness of man to indulge in certain pleasures, almost, indeed,
prompted by nature, but that dishonesty and such shameful practices
ought to be, and always would be, inexorably punished.
"I listened to all he said with an air of submission, which quite
charmed him. I betrayed no symptoms of annoyance even at some jokes in
which he indulged about my relationship with Manon and Lescaut, and
about the little chapels of which he supposed I must have had time to
erect a great many in St. Lazare, as I was so fond of that occupation.
But he happened, unluckily both for me and for himself, to add, that he
hoped Manon had also employed herself in the same edifying manner at the
Magdalen. Notwithstanding the thrill of horror I felt at the sound of
the name, I had still presence of mind enough to beg, in the gentlest
manner, that he would explain himself. ‘Oh! yes,’ he replied, ‘she has
been these last two months at the Magdalen learning to be prudent, and I
trust she has improved herself as much there, as you have done at St.
Lazare!’
"If an eternal imprisonment, or death itself, had been presented to
my view, I could not have restrained the excitement into which this
afflicting announcement threw me. I flung myself upon him in so violent
a rage that half my strength was exhausted by the effort. I had,
however, more than enough left to drag him to the ground, and grasp him
by the throat. I should infallibly have strangled him, if his fall, and
the half-stifled cries which he had still the power to utter, had not
attracted the governor and several of the priests to my room. They
rescued him from my fury.
"I was, myself, breathless and almost impotent from rage. ‘Oh God!’ I
cried--‘Heavenly justice! Must I survive this infamy?’ I tried again to
seize the barbarian who had thus roused my indignation--they prevented
me. My despair--my cries--my tears, exceeded all belief: I raved in so
incoherent a manner that all the bystanders, who were ignorant of the
cause, looked at each other with as much dread as surprise.
"G---- M---- in the meantime adjusted his wig and cravat, and in his
anger at having been so ill-treated, ordered me to be kept under more
severe restraint than before, and to be punished in the manner usual
with offenders in St. Lazare. ‘No, sir!’ said the governor, ‘it is not
with a person of his birth that we are in the habit of using such means
of coercion; besides, he is habitually so mild and well-conducted, that
I cannot but think you must have given provocation for such excessive
violence.’ This reply disconcerted G---- M---- beyond measure and he
went away, declaring that he knew how to be revenged on the governor, as
well as on me, and everyone else who dared to thwart him.
"The Superior, having ordered some of the brotherhood to escort him
out of the prison, remained alone with me. He conjured me to tell him at
once what was the cause of the fracas.--‘Oh, my good sir!’ said I to
him, continuing to cry like a child, ‘imagine the most horrible cruelty,
figure to yourself the most inhuman of atrocities--that is what G----
M---- has had the cowardly baseness to perpetrate: he has pierced my
heart. Never shall I recover from this blow! I would gladly tell you the
whole circumstance,’ added I, sobbing with grief; ‘you are kind-hearted,
and cannot fail to pity me.’
"I gave him, as briefly as I could, a history of my long-standing and
insurmountable passion for Manon, of the flourishing condition of our
fortunes previous to the robbery committed by our servants, of the
offers which G---- M---- had made to my mistress, of the understanding
they had come to, and the manner in which it had been defeated. To be
sure, I represented things to him in as favourable a light for us as
possible. ‘Now you can comprehend,’ continued I, ‘the source of M. G----
M----’s holy zeal for my conversion. He has had influence enough to have
me shut up here, out of mere revenge. That I can pardon; but, my good
sir, that is not all. He has taken from me my heart’s blood: he has had
Manon shamefully incarcerated in the Magdalen; and had the effrontery to
announce it to me this day with his own lips. In the Magdalen, good sir!
Oh heavens! my adorable mistress, my beloved Manon, a degraded inmate of
the Hospital! How shall I command strength of mind enough to survive
this grief and shame!’
"The good Father, seeing me in such affliction, endeavoured to
console me. He told me that he had never understood my history, as I
just now related it; he had of course known that I led a dissolute life,
but he had imagined that M. G---- M----’s interest about me was the
result of his esteem and friendship for my family; that it was in this
sense he had explained the matter to him; that what I had now told him
should assuredly produce a change in my treatment, and that he had no
doubt but the accurate detail which he should immediately transmit to
the lieutenant-general of police would bring about my liberation.
"He then enquired why I had never thought of informing my family of
what had taken place, since they had not been instrumental to my
incarceration. I satisfactorily answered this by stating my
unwillingness to cause my father pain, or to bring upon myself the
humiliation of such an exposure. In the end, he promised to go directly
to the lieutenant-general of police if it were only, said he, to be
beforehand with M. G---- M----, who went off in such a rage, and who had
sufficient influence to make himself formidable.
"I looked for the good Father’s return with all the suspense of a man
expecting sentence of death. It was torture to me to think of Manon at
the Magdalen. Besides the infamy of such a prison, I knew not how she
might be treated there; and the recollection of some particulars I had
formerly heard of this horrible place, incessantly renewed my misery.
Cost what it might, I was so bent upon relieving her by some means or
other, that I should assuredly have set fire to St. Lazare, if no other
mode of escape had presented itself.
"I considered what chances would remain to me if the lieutenant-
general still kept me in confinement. I taxed my ingenuity: I scanned
every imaginable gleam of hope--I could discover nothing that gave me
any prospect of escape, and I feared that I should experience only more
rigid confinement, if I made an unsuccessful attempt. I thought of some
friends from whom I might hope for aid, but then, how was I to make them
aware of my situation? At length I fancied that I had hit upon a plan so
ingenious, as to offer a fair probability of success. I postponed the
details of its arrangement until after the Superior’s return, in case of
his having failed in the object of his visit.
"He soon arrived: I did not observe upon his countenance any of those
marks of joy that indicate good news. ‘I have spoken,’ said he, ‘to the
lieutenant-general of police, but I was too late, M. G---- M---- went
straight to him after quitting us, and so prejudiced him against you,
that he was on the point of sending me fresh instructions to subject you
to closer confinement.
"‘However, when I let him know the truth of your story, he
reconsidered the matter, and, smiling at the incontinence of old G----
M----, he said it would be necessary to keep you here for six months
longer, in order to pacify him; the less to be lamented,’ he added,
‘because your morals would be sure to benefit by your residence here. He
desired that I would show you every kindness and attention, and I need
not assure you that you shall have no reason to complain of your
treatment.’
"This speech of the Superior’s was long enough to afford me time to
form a prudent resolution. I saw that by betraying too strong an
impatience for my liberty, I should probably be upsetting all my
projects. I acknowledged to him, that, as it was necessary to me to
remain, it was an infinite comfort to know that I possessed a place in
his esteem. I then requested, and with unaffected sincerity, a favour,
which could be of no consequence to others, and which would contribute
much to my peace of mind; it was to inform a friend of mine, a devout
clergyman, who lived at St. Sulpice, that I was at St. Lazare, and to
permit me occasionally to receive his visits.
"This was of course my friend Tiberge; not that I could hope from him
the assistance necessary for effecting my liberty; but I wished to make
him the unconscious instrument of my designs. In a word, this was my
project: I wished to write to Lescaut, and to charge him and our common
friends with the task of my deliverance. The first difficulty was to
have my letter conveyed to him: this should be Tiberge’s office.
However, as he knew him to be Manon’s brother, I doubted whether he
would take charge of this commission. My plan was to enclose my letter
to Lescaut in another to some respectable man of my acquaintance,
begging of him to transmit the first to its address without delay; and
as it was necessary that I should have personal communication with
Lescaut, in order to arrange our proceedings, I told him to call on me
at St. Lazare, and assume the name of my eldest brother, as if he had
come to Paris expressly to see me. I postponed till our meeting all
mention of the safest and most expeditious course I intended to suggest
for our future conduct. The governor informed Tiberge of my wish to see
him. This ever-faithful friend had not so entirely lost sight of me as
to be ignorant of my present abode, and it is probable that, in his
heart, he did not regret the circumstance, from an idea that it might
furnish the means of my moral regeneration. He lost no time in paying me
the desired visit.
|
CHAPTER VI
"My interview with Tiberge was of the most friendly description. I saw
that his object was to discover the present temper of my mind. I opened
my heart to him without any reserve, except as to the mere point of my
intention of escaping. ‘It is not from such a friend as you,’ said I,
‘that I can ever wish to dissemble my real feelings. If you flattered
yourself with a hope that you were at last about to find me grown
prudent and regular in my conduct, a libertine reclaimed by the
chastisements of fortune, released alike from the trammels of love, and
the dominion that Manon wields over me, I must in candour say, that you
deceive yourself. You still behold me, as you left me four months ago,
the slave--if you will, the unhappy slave--of a passion, from which I
now hope, as fervently and as confidently as I ever did, to derive
eventually solid comfort.’
"He answered, that such an acknowledgment rendered me utterly
inexcusable; that it was no uncommon case to meet sinners who allowed
themselves to be so dazzled with the glare of vice as to prefer it
openly to the true splendour of virtue; they were at least deluded by
the false image of happiness, the poor dupes of an empty shadow; but the
know and feel as I did, that the object of my attachment was only
calculated to render me culpable and unhappy, and to continue thus
voluntarily in a career of misery and crime, involved a contradiction of
ideas and of conduct little creditable to my reason.
"‘Tiberge,’ replied I, ‘it is easy to triumph when your arguments are
unopposed. Allow me to reason for a few moments in my turn. Can you
pretend that what you call the happiness of virtue is exempt from
troubles, and crosses, and cares? By what name will you designate the
dungeon, the rack, the inflections and tortures of tyrants? Will you say
with the Mystics[1] that the soul derives pleasure from the torments of
the body? You are not bold enough to hold such a doctrine--a paradox not
to be maintained. This happiness, then, that you prize so much, has a
thousand drawbacks, or is, more properly speaking, but a tissue of
sufferings through which one hopes to attain felicity. If by the power
of imagination one can even derive pleasure from these sufferings,
hoping that they may lead to a happy end, why, let me ask, do you deem
my conduct senseless, when it is directed by precisely the same
principle? I love Manon: I wade through sorrow and suffering in order to
attain happiness with her. My path is one indeed of difficulties, but
the mere hope of reaching the desired goal makes it easy and delightful;
and I shall think myself but too bountifully repaid by one moment of her
society, for all the troubles I encounter in my course. There appears
therefore no difference between us, or, if there be any, it is assuredly
in my favour; for the bliss I hope for is near and tangible, yours is
far distant, and purely speculative. Mine is of the same kind as my
sufferings, that is to say, evident to my senses; yours is of an
incomprehensible nature, and only discernible through the dim medium of
faith.’
[1] A favourite tenet of the Mystics, advocated by Madame de Guyon,
and adopted by the amiable and eloquent Fenelon, was, that the love of
the Supreme Being must be pure and disinterested; that is, exempt from
all views of interest, and all hope of reward. See the controversy
between Bossuet and Fenelon.
"Tiberge appeared shocked by my remarks. He retired two or three paces
from me, while he said, in the most serious tone, that my argument was
not only a violation of good sense, but that it was the miserable
sophistry of irreligion; ‘for the comparison,’ he added, ‘of the pitiful
reward of your sufferings with that held out to us by the divine
revelation, is the essence of impiety and absurdity combined.’
"‘I acknowledge,’ said I, ‘that the comparison is not a just one, but
my argument does not at all depend upon it. I was about to explain what
you consider a contradiction--the persevering in a painful pursuit; and
I think I have satisfactorily proved, that if there be any contradiction
in that, we shall be both equally obnoxious to the charge. It was in
this light, only, that I could observe no difference in our cases, and I
cannot as yet perceive any.
"‘You may probably answer, that the proposed end, the promised
reward, of virtue, is infinitely superior to that of love? No one
disputes it, but that is not the question--we are only discussing the
relative aid they both afford in the endurance of affliction. Judge of
that by the practical effect: are there not multitudes who abandon a
life of strict virtue? how few give up the pursuits of love!
"‘Again, you will reply that if there be difficulties in the exercise
of virtue, they are by no means universal and sure; that the good man
does not necessarily meet tyrants and tortures, and that, on the
contrary, a life of virtue is perfectly compatible with repose and
enjoyment. I can say with equal truth, that love is often accompanied by
content and happiness; and what makes another distinction of infinite
advantage to my argument, I may add that love, though it often deludes,
never holds out other than hopes of bliss and joy, whilst religion
exacts from her votaries mortification and sorrow.
"‘Do not be alarmed,’ said I, perceiving that I had almost offended
his zealous feelings of devotion. ‘I only wish to say, that there is no
more unsuccessful method of weaning man’s heart from love, than by
endeavouring to decry its enjoyments, and by promising him more pleasure
from the exercise of virtue. It is an inherent principle in our nature,
that our felicity consists only in pleasure. I defy you to conceive any
other notion of it; and it requires little time to arrive at the
conviction, that, of all pleasures, those of love are immeasurably the
most enchanting. A man quickly discerns the delusion, when he hears the
promise made of livelier enjoyment, and the effect of such
misrepresentation is only to make him doubt the truth of a more solid
promise.
"‘Let the preacher who seeks the reformation of a sinner tell me that
virtue is indispensably necessary, but not disguise its difficulty and
its attendant denials. Say that the enjoyments of love are fleeting, if
you will, that they are rigidly forbidden, that they lead with certainty
to eternal suffering; and, what would assuredly make a deeper impression
upon me than any other argument, say that the more sweet and delectable
they are, the brighter will be the reward of Heaven for giving them up
in sacrifice; but do in the name of justice admit, that, constituted as
the heart of man is, they form here, on earth, our most perfect
happiness.’
"My last sentence restored to Tiberge his good humour. He allowed
that my ideas were not altogether so unreasonable. The only point he
made, was in asking me why I did not carry my own principle into
operation, by sacrificing my passion to the hope of that remuneration of
which I had drawn so brilliant a picture. ‘Oh! my dear friend,’ replied
I; ‘that it is which makes me conscious of my own misery and weakness:
true, alas! it is indeed my duty to act according to my argument; but
have I the power of governing my own actions? What aid will enable me to
forget Manon’s charms?’ ’God forgive me,’ said Tiberge, ‘I can almost
fancy you a Jansenist[1]. ‘I know not of what sect I am,’ replied I,
‘nor do I indeed very clearly see to which I ought to belong; but I
cannot help feeling the truth of this at least of their tenets.’
[1] The first proposition of the Jansenists was, that there are
divine precepts which good men, notwithstanding their desire to observe
them, are nevertheless absolutely unable to obey: God not having given
them such a measure of grace as is essentially necessary to render them
capable of obedience.--Mosheim’s Eccles. Hist., ii. 397.
"One effect of our conversation was to revive my friend’s pity for me in
all its force. He perceived that there was in my errors more of weakness
than of vice; and he was the more disposed in the end to give me
assistance; without which I should infallibly have perished from
distress of mind. However, I carefully concealed from him my intention
of escaping from St. Lazare. I merely begged of him to take charge of my
letter; I had it ready before he came, and I soon found an excuse for
the necessity of writing. He faithfully transmitted it, and Lescaut
received before evening the one I had enclosed for him.
"He came to see me next morning, and fortunately was admitted under
my brother’s name. I was overjoyed at finding him in my room. I
carefully closed the door. ‘Let us lose no time,’ I said. ‘First tell me
about Manon, and then advise me how I am to shake off these fetters.’ He
assured me that he had not seen his sister since the day before my
arrest, and that it was only by repeated enquiries, and after much
trouble, that he had at length been able to discover her fate as well as
mine; and that he had two or three times presented himself at the
Magdalen, and been refused admittance. ‘Wretch!’ muttered I to myself,
‘dearly shall G---- M---- pay for this!’
‘As to your escape,’ continued Lescaut, ‘it will not be so easy as
you imagine. Last evening, I and a couple of friends walked round this
establishment to reconnoitre it; and we agreed that, as your windows
looked into a court surrounded by buildings, as you yourself mentioned
in your letter, there would be vast difficulty in getting you out.
Besides, you are on the third story, and it would be impossible to
introduce ropes or ladders through the window. I therefore see no means
from without--in the house itself we must hit upon some scheme.’
"‘No,’ replied I; ‘I have examined everything minutely, particularly
since, through the governor’s indulgence, my confinement has been less
rigorous. I am no longer locked into my room; I have liberty to walk in
the gallery; but there is, upon every landing, a strong door kept closed
night and day, so that it is impossible that ingenuity alone, unaided by
some violent efforts, can rescue me.
"‘Wait,’ said I, after turning in my mind for a moment an idea that
struck me as excellent; ‘could you bring me a pistol?’ ‘Softly,’ said
Lescaut to me, ‘you don’t think of committing murder?’ I assured him
that I had so little intention of shooting anyone, that it would not be
even necessary to have the pistol loaded. ‘Bring it to me tomorrow,’ I
added, ‘and do not fail to be exactly opposite the great entrance with
two or three of your friends at eleven tomorrow night; I think I shall
be able to join you there.’ He in vain requested me to explain my plan.
I told him that such an attempt as I contemplated could only appear
rational after it had succeeded. I begged of him to shorten his visit,
in order that he might with the less difficulty be admitted next
morning. He was accordingly admitted as readily as on his first visit.
He had put on so serious an air, moreover, that a stranger would have
taken him for a respectable person.
"When I found in my hand the instrument of my liberty, I no longer
doubted my success. It was certainly a strange and a bold project; but
of what was I not capable, with the motives that inspired me? I had,
since I was allowed permission to walk in the galleries, found
opportunities of observing that every night the porter brought the keys
of all the doors to the governor, and subsequently there always reigned
a profound silence in the house, which showed that the inmates had
retired to rest. There was an open communication between my room and
that of the Superior. My resolution was, if he refused quietly to
surrender the keys, to force him, by fear of the pistol, to deliver them
up, and then by their help to gain the street. I impatiently awaited the
moment for executing my purpose. The porter arrived at his usual time,
that is to say, soon after nine o’clock. I allowed an hour to elapse, in
order that the priests as well as the servants might be all asleep. I at
length proceeded with my pistol and a lighted candle. I first gave a
gentle tap at the governor’s door to awaken without alarming him. I
knocked a second time before he heard me; and supposing of course that
it was one of the priests who was taken ill and wanted assistance, he
got out of bed, dressed himself, and came to the door. He had, however,
the precaution to ask first who it was, and what was wanted? I was
obliged to mention my name, but I assumed a plaintive tone, to make him
believe that I was indisposed. ‘Ah! it is you, my dear boy,’ said he on
opening the door; ‘what can bring you here at this hour?’ I stepped
inside the door, and leading him to the opposite side of the room, I
declared to him that it was absolutely impossible for me to remain
longer at St. Lazare; that the night was the most favourable time for
going out unobserved, and that I confidently expected, from his tried
friendship, that he would consent to open the gates for me, or entrust
me with the keys to let myself out.
"This compliment to his friendship seemed to surprise him. He stood
for a few moments looking at me without making any reply. Finding that I
had no time to lose, I just begged to assure him that I had the most
lively sense of all his kindnesses, but that freedom was dearer to man
than every other consideration, especially so to me, who had been
cruelly and unjustly deprived of it; that I was resolved this night to
recover it, cost what it would, and fearing lest he might raise his
voice and call for assistance, I let him see the powerful incentive to
silence which I had kept concealed in my bosom. ‘A pistol!’ cried he.
‘What! my son? will you take away my life in return for the attentions I
have shown you?’ ‘God forbid,’ replied I; ‘you are too reasonable to
drive me to that horrible extremity: but I am determined to be free, and
so firmly determined, that if you defeat my project, I will put an end
to your existence.’ ‘But, my dear son!’ said he, pale and frightened,
‘what have I done to you? What reason have you for taking my life?’
‘No!’ replied I, impatiently, ‘I have no design upon your life, if you,
yourself, wish to live; open but the doors for me, and you will find me
the most attached of friends.’ I perceived the keys upon the table. I
requested he would take them in his hand and walk before me, making as
little noise as he possibly could.
"He saw the necessity of consenting. We proceeded, and as he opened
each door, he repeated, always with a sigh, ‘Ah! my son, who could have
believed it?’ ‘No noise, good Father, no noise,’ I as often answered in
my turn. At length we reached a kind of barrier, just inside the great
entrance. I already fancied myself free, and kept close behind the
governor, with my candle in one hand, and my pistol in the other.
"While he was endeavouring to open the heavy gate, one of the
servants, who slept in an adjoining room, hearing the noise of the
bolts, jumped out of bed, and peeped forth to see what was passing. The
good Father apparently thought him strong enough to overpower me. He
commanded him, most imprudently, to come to his assistance. He was a
powerful ruffian, and threw himself upon me without an instant’s
hesitation. There was no time for parleying--I levelled my pistol and
lodged the contents in his breast! ‘See, Father, of what mischief you
have been the cause,’ said I to my guide; ‘but that must not prevent us
from finishing our work,’ I added, pushing him on towards the last door.
He did not dare refuse to open it. I made my exit in perfect safety,
and, a few paces off, found Lescaut with two friends waiting for me,
according to his promise.
"We removed at once to a distance. Lescaut enquired whether he had
not heard the report of a pistol? ‘You are to blame,’ said I, ‘why did
you bring it charged?’ I, however, could not help thanking him for
having taken this precaution, without which I doubtless must have
continued much longer at St. Lazare. We went to pass the night at a
tavern, where I made up, in some degree, for the miserable fare which
had been doled out to me for nearly three months. I was very far,
however, from tasting perfect enjoyment; Manon’s sufferings were mine.
‘She must be released,’ said I to my companions: ‘this was my sole
object in desiring my own liberty. I rely on your aiding me with all
your ingenuity; as for myself, my life shall be devoted to the purpose.’
"Lescaut, who was not deficient in tact, and still less in that
better part of valour called discretion, dwelt upon the necessity of
acting with extreme caution: he said that my escape from St. Lazare, and
the accident that happened on my leaving it, would assuredly create a
sensation; that the lieutenant-general of police would cause a strict
search to be made for me, and it would be difficult to evade him; in
fine, that, unless disposed to encounter something worse, perhaps, than
St. Lazare, it would be requisite for me to remain concealed for a few
days, in order to give the enemy’s zeal time to cool. No doubt this was
wise counsel; but, one should have been wise oneself to have followed
it. Such calculating slowness little suited my passion. The utmost I
could bring myself to promise was, that I would sleep through the whole
of the next day. He locked me in my bedroom, where I remained patiently
until night.
"I employed great part of the time in devising schemes for relieving
Manon. I felt persuaded that her prison was even more inaccessible than
mine had been. Force was out of the question. Artifice was the only
resource; but the goddess of invention herself could not have told me
how to begin. I felt the impossibility of working in the dark, and
therefore postponed the further consideration of my schemes until I
could acquire some knowledge of the internal arrangements of the
Hospital, in which she was confined.
"As soon as night restored to me my liberty, I begged of Lescaut to
accompany me. We were not long in drawing one of the porters into
conversation; he appeared a reasonable man. I passed for a stranger who
had often with admiration heard talk of the Hospital, and of the order
that reigned within it. I enquired into the most minute details; and,
proceeding from one subject to another, we at length spoke of the
managers, and of these I begged to know the names and the respective
characters. He gave me such information upon the latter point as at once
suggested an idea which flattered my hopes, and I immediately set about
carrying it into execution.
I asked him (this being a matter essential to my plan) whether any of
the gentlemen had children. He said he could not answer me with
certainty as to all, but as for M. de T----, one of the principal
directors, he knew that he had a son old enough to be married, and who
had come several times to the Hospital with his father. This was enough
for my purpose.
"I immediately put an end to our interview, and, in returning, I told
Lescaut of the plan I had formed. ‘I have taken it,’ said I, ‘into my
head, that M. de T----, the son, who is rich and of good family, must
have the same taste for pleasure that other young men of his age
generally have. He could hardly be so bad a friend to the fair sex, nor
so absurd as to refuse his services in an affair of love. I have
arranged a plan for interesting him in favour of Manon. If he is a man
of feeling and of right mind, he will give us his assistance from
generosity. If he is not to be touched by a motive of this kind, he will
at least do something for a handsome girl, if it were only with the hope
of hereafter sharing her favours. I will not defer seeing him,’ added I,
‘beyond tomorrow. I really feel so elated by this project, that I derive
from it a good omen.’
"Lescaut himself allowed that the idea was not unreasonable, and that
we might fairly entertain a hope of turning it to account. I passed the
night less sorrowfully.
Next morning I dressed as well as, in my present state of indigence,
I could possibly contrive to do; and went in a hackney coach to the
residence of M. de T----. He was surprised at receiving a visit from a
perfect stranger. I augured favourably from his countenance and the
civility of his manner. I explained my object in the most candid way;
and, to excite his feelings as much as possible, I spoke of my ardent
passion and of Manon’s merit, as of two things that were unequalled,
except by each other. He told me, that although he had never seen Manon,
he had heard of her; at least, if the person I was talking of was the
same who had been the mistress of old G---- M----. I conjectured that he
must have heard of the part I had acted in that transaction, and in
order to conciliate him more and more by treating him with confidence, I
told him everything that had occurred to Manon and myself. ‘You see,
sir,’ said I, ‘that all that can interest me in life, all that can
command my affections, is in your hands. I have no reserve with you,
because I have been informed of your generous and noble character; and,
being of the same age, I trust I shall find some resemblance in our
dispositions.’
"He seemed flattered by this mark of candour and confidence. He
replied in a manner that became a man of the world, and a man of feeling
also, for they are not always synonymous terms. He told me that he
appreciated my visit as a piece of good fortune; that he considered my
friendship as a valuable acquisition, and that he would endeavour to
prove himself worthy of it, by the sincerity of his services. He could
not absolutely promise to restore Manon to my arms, because, as he said,
he himself had very little influence; but he offered to procure me the
pleasure of seeing her, and to do everything in his power to effect her
release. I was the more satisfied with this frank avowal as to his want
of influence, than I should have been by an unqualified promise of
fulfilling all my wishes. I found in his moderation a pledge of his
sincerity: in a word, I no longer doubted my entire success. The promise
alone of enabling me to see Manon filled me with gratitude, and I
testified it in so earnest a manner, as to give him a favourable opinion
of my heart and disposition; we shook hands warmly, and parted sworn
friends, merely from mutual regard, and that natural feeling which
prompts a man of kind and generous sentiments to esteem another of
congenial mind.
"He, indeed, exceeded me in the proofs of his esteem; for, inferring
from my adventures, and especially my late escape from St. Lazare, that
I might be in want of money, he offered me his purse, and pressed me to
accept it. I refused, but said to him, ‘You are too kind, my dear sir!
If in addition to such proofs of kindness and friendship, you enable me
to see Manon again, rely on my eternal regard and gratitude. If you
succeed in restoring altogether this dear creature to my arms, I should
think myself happy in spilling the last drop of my blood in your
service.’
"Before we parted, we agreed as to the time and place for our
meeting. He was so considerate as to appoint the afternoon of the same
day.
"I waited for him at a cafe, where he joined me about four o’clock,
and we went together towards the Magdalen; my knees trembled under me as
I crossed the courts. ‘Ye heavenly powers!’ said I, ‘then I shall once
more behold the idol of my heart--the dear object of so many sighs and
lamentations! All I now ask of Providence is, to vouchsafe me strength
enough to reach her presence, and after that, to dispose as it pleaseth
of my future fate, and of my life itself. Beyond this, I have no prayer
to utter.’
"M. de T---- spoke to some of the porters of the establishment, who
appeared all anxious to please him. The quarter in which Manon’s room
lay was pointed out to us, and our guide carried in his hand the key of
her chamber: it was of frightful size. I asked the man who conducted us,
and whose duty it was to attend to Manon, how she passed her time? He
said, that she had a temper of the most angelic sweetness; that even he,
disagreeable as his official duties must render him, had never heard
from her a single syllable in the nature of rebuke or harshness; that
her tears had never ceased to flow during the first six weeks after her
arrival, but that latterly she seemed to bear her misfortunes with more
resignation, and that she employed herself from morning till night with
her needle, excepting some hours that she, each day, devoted to reading.
I asked whether she had been decently provided for. He assured me that
at least she had never felt the want of necessaries.
"We now approached her door. My heart. beat almost audibly in my
bosom. I said to M. de T----, ‘Go in alone, and prepare her for my
visit; I fear that she may be overcome by seeing me unexpectedly.’ The
door was opened. I remained in the passage, and listened to the
conversation. He said that he came to bring her consolation; that he was
a friend of mine, and felt deeply interested for the happiness of us
both. She asked with the tenderest anxiety, whether he could tell her
what had become of me. He promised that she should soon see me at her
feet, as affectionate and as faithful as ever. ‘When?’ she asked. ‘This
very day,’ said he; ‘the happy moment shall not be long delayed; nay,
this very instant even, if you wish it.’ She at once understood that I
was at the door; as she was rushing towards it, I entered. We embraced
each other with that abounding and impassioned tenderness, which an
absence of many months makes so delicious to those who truly love. Our
sighs, our broken exclamations, the thousand endearing appellations of
love, exchanged in languishing rapture, astonished M. de T----, and
affected him even to tears.
"‘I cannot help envying you,’ said he, as he begged us to be seated;
‘there is no lot, however glorious, that I would hold as comparable to
the possession of a mistress at once so tender and impassioned.’ ‘Nor
would I,’ I replied, ‘give up her love for universal empire!’
"The remainder of an interview which had been so long and so ardently
desired by me, was of course as tender as the commencement. Poor Manon
related all her adventures, and I told her mine: we bitterly wept over
each other’s story. M. de T---- consoled us by his renewed promises to
exert himself in our service. He advised us not to make this, our first
interview, of too long duration, that he might have the less difficulty
in procuring us the same enjoyment again. He at length induced us to
follow his advice. Manon especially could not reconcile herself to the
separation: she made me a hundred times resume my seat. At one time she
held me by my hands, at another by my coat. ‘Alas!’ she said, ‘in what
an abode do you leave me! Who will answer for my ever seeing you again?’
M. de T---- promised her that he would often come and see her with me.
‘As to the abode,’ he said, ’it must no longer be called the Magdalen;
it is Versailles! now that it contains a person who deserves the empire
of all hearts.’
"I made the man who attended a present as I went out, in order to
quicken his zeal and attentions. This fellow had a mind less rough and
vulgar than the generality of his class. He had witnessed our interview,
and was affected by it. The interest he felt was doubtless increased by
the louis d’or I gave him. He took me aside as we went down into the
courtyard. ‘Sir,’ said he, ‘if you will only take me into your service,
or indemnify me in any way for the loss of the situation which I fill
here, I think I should not have much difficulty in liberating the
beauteous Manon.’
"I caught readily at the suggestion, and, although at the moment I
was almost in a state of destitution, I gave him promises far beyond his
desires. I considered that it would be at all times easy to recompense a
man of his description. ‘Be assured, my friend,’ said I to him, ‘that
there is nothing I will not be ready to do for you, and that your
fortune is just as certain as my own.’ I enquired what means he intended
to employ. ‘None other,’ said he, ‘than merely to open the door of her
cell for her at night, and to conduct her to the street door, where you,
of course, will be to receive her.’ I asked whether there was no danger
of her being recognised as she traversed the long galleries and the
courts. He admitted that there was danger, but that nothing could be
done without some slight risk.
"Although I was delighted to find him so determined, I called M. de
T----, and informed him of the project, and of the only difficulty in
the way. He thought it not so easy of execution. He allowed the
possibility of escaping thus: ‘But if she be recognised,’ continued he,
‘if she be stopped in the attempt, all hope will be over with her,
perhaps for ever. Besides, you would be obliged to quit Paris instantly,
for you could never evade the search that would be made for you: they
would redouble their efforts as much on your own account as hers. A
single man may easily escape detection, but in company with a handsome
woman, it would be utterly impossible to remain undiscovered.’
"However sound this reasoning, it could not, in my mind, outweigh the
immediate prospect of restoring Manon to liberty. I said as much to M.
de T----, and trusted that he would excuse my imprudence and rashness,
on the ground of love. I added that it was already my intention to quit
Paris for some neighbouring village, as I had once before done. We then
settled with the servant that he should carry his project into execution
the following day, and to render our success as certain as he could, we
resolved to carry into the prison men’s clothes, in order to facilitate
her escape.
There was a difficulty to be surmounted in carrying them in, but I
had ingenuity enough to meet it. I begged of M. de T---- only to put on
two light waistcoats the next morning, and I undertook to arrange the
rest.
We returned the following day to the Hospital. I took with me linen,
stockings, etc., for Manon, and over my body-coat a surtout, which
concealed the bulk I carried in my pockets. We remained but a moment in
her room. M. de T---- left her one of his waistcoats; I gave her my
short coat, the surtout being sufficient for me. She found nothing
wanting for her complete equipment but a pair of pantaloons, which in my
hurry I had forgotten.
"The want of so necessary an article might have amused us, if the
embarrassment it caused had been of a less serious kind. I was in
despair at having our whole scheme foiled by a trifling omission of this
nature. However, I soon hit on a remedy, and determined to make my own
exit sans-culotte, leaving that portion of my dress with Manon. My
surtout was long, and I contrived by the help of a few pins to put
myself in a decent condition for passing the gate.
"The remainder of the day appeared to me of endless length. When at
last night came, we went in a coach to within a few yards of the
Hospital. We were not long waiting, when we saw Manon make her
appearance with her guide. The door of the coach being opened, they both
stepped in without delay. I opened my arms to receive my adored
mistress; she trembled like an aspen leaf. The coachman asked where he
was to drive? ‘To the end of the world!’ I exclaimed; ‘to some place
where I can never again be separated from Manon.’
"This burst, which I could not control, was near bringing me into
fresh trouble. The coachman reflected upon what I said, and when I
afterwards told him the name of the street to which I wished him to
drive, he answered that he feared I was about to implicate him in some
bad business; that he saw plainly enough that the good- looking young
man whom I called Manon was a girl eloping from the Hospital, and that
he was little disposed indeed to ruin himself for love of me.
"Extortion was the source of this scoundrel’s delicacy. We were still
too near the Hospital to make any noise. ‘Silence!’ said I to him, ‘you
shall have a louis d’or for the job’: for less than that he would have
helped me to burn the Hospital.
"We arrived at Lescaut’s house. As it was late, M. de T---- left us
on the way, promising to visit us the next morning. The servant alone
remained.
"I held Manon in such close embrace in my arms, that we occupied but
one place in the coach. She cried for joy, and I could feel her tears
trickling down my cheeks.
"When we were about getting out at Lescaut’s, I had a new difficulty
with the coachman, which was attended with the most unfortunate results.
I repented of having promised the fellow a louis d’or, not only because
it was extravagant folly, but for another stronger reason, that it was
at the moment out of my power to pay him. I called for Lescaut, and he
came down to the door. I whispered to him the cause of my present
embarrassment. Being naturally rough, and not at all in the habit of
treating hackney-coachmen with respect, he answered that I could not be
serious. ‘A louis!’ said he; ‘twenty blows of a cane would be the right
payment for that rascal!’ I entreated him not to destroy us; when he
snatched my cane from my hand, and was about to lay it on the coachman.
The fellow had probably before experienced the weight of a guardsman’s
arm, and instantly drove off, crying out, that I had cheated him, and
should hear of him again. I in vain endeavoured to stop him.
"His flight caused me, of course, the greatest alarm. I had no doubt
that he would immediately give information to the police. ‘You have
ruined me,’ said I to Lescaut; ‘I shall be no longer safe at your house;
we must go hence at once.’ I gave Manon my arm, and as quickly as
possible got out of the dangerous neighbourhood. Lescaut accompanied
us."
The Chevalier des Grieux having occupied more than an hour with his
story, I begged him to give himself a little rest, and meanwhile to
share our supper. He saw, by the attention we paid him, that we were
amused, and promised that we should hear something of perhaps greater
interest in the sequel. When we had finished supper, he continued in the
following words.
|
CHAPTER VII
"How inscrutably does Providence connect events! We had hardly
proceeded for five minutes on our way, when a man, whose face I could
not see, recognised Lescaut. He had no doubt been watching for him near
his home, with the horrible intention which he now unhappily executed.
‘It IS Lescaut!’ said he, snapping a pistol at his head; ‘he shall sup
tonight with the angels!’ He then instantly disappeared. Lescaut fell,
without the least sign of life. I pressed Manon to fly, for we could be
of no use to a dead man, and I feared being arrested by the police, who
would certainly be soon upon the spot. I turned down the first narrow
street with her and the servant: she was so overpowered by the scene she
had just witnessed, that I could hardly support her. At last, at the end
of the street, I perceived a hackney-coach; we got into it, but when the
coachman asked whither he should drive, I was scarcely able to answer
him. I had no certain asylum--no confidential friend to whom I could
have recourse. I was almost destitute of money, having but one dollar
left in my purse. Fright and fatigue had so unnerved Manon, that she was
almost fainting at my side. My imagination too was full of the murder of
Lescaut, and I was not without strong apprehensions of the patrol. What
was to be done? I luckily remembered the inn at Chaillot, where we first
went to reside in that village. I hoped to be not only secure, but to
continue there for some time without being pressed for payment. ‘Take us
to Chaillot,’ said I to the coachman. He refused to drive us so far at
that late hour for less than twelve francs. A new embarrassment! At last
we agreed for half that sum--all that my purse contained.
"I tried to console Manon as we went along, but despair was rankling
in my own heart. I should have destroyed myself a thousand times over,
if I had not felt that I held in my arms all that could attach me to
life: this reflection reconciled me. ‘I possess her at least,’ said I;
‘she loves me! she is mine! Vainly does Tiberge call this a mere phantom
of happiness.’ I could, without feeling interest or emotion, see the
whole world besides perish around me. Why? Because I have in it no
object of affection beyond her.
"This sentiment was true; however, while I so lightly esteemed the
good things of the world, I felt that there was no doing without some
little portion of them, were it only to inspire a more thorough contempt
for the remainder. Love is more powerful than wealth--more attractive
than grandeur or fame; but, alas! it cannot exist without certain
artificial aids; and there is nothing more humiliating to the feelings,
of a sensitive lover, than to find himself, by want of means, reduced to
the level of the most vulgar minds.
"It was eleven o’clock when we arrived at Chaillot. They received us
at the inn as old acquaintances, and expressed no sort of surprise at
seeing Manon in male attire, for it was the custom in Paris and the
environs to adopt all disguises. I took care to have her served with as
much attention as if I had been in prosperous circumstances. She was
ignorant of my poverty, and I carefully kept her so, being resolved to
return alone the following day to Paris, to seek some cure for this
vexatious kind of malady.
"At supper she appeared pale and thin; I had not observed this at the
Hospital, as the room in which I saw her was badly lighted. I asked her
if the excessive paleness were not caused by the shock of witnessing her
brother’s death? She assured me that, horrified as she naturally was at
the event, her paleness was purely the effect of a three months’ absence
from me. ‘You do love me then devotedly?’ I exclaimed.
"‘A thousand times more than I can tell!’ was her reply.
"‘You will never leave me again?’ I added.
"‘No! never, never!’ answered she.
"This assurance was confirmed by so many caresses and vows, that it
appeared impossible she could, to the end of time, forget them. I have
never doubted that she was at that moment sincere. What motive could she
have had for dissembling to such a degree? But she became afterwards
still more volatile than ever, or rather she was no longer anything, and
entirely forgot herself, when, in poverty and want, she saw other women
living in abundance. I was now on the point of receiving a new proof of
her inconstancy, which threw all that had passed into the shade, and
which led to the strangest adventure that ever happened to a man of my
birth and prospects.
"As I knew her disposition, I hastened the next day to Paris. The
death of her brother, and the necessity of getting linen and clothes for
her, were such good reasons, that I had no occasion for any further
pretext. I left the inn, with the intention, as I told Manon and the
landlord, of going in a hired carriage, but this was a mere flourish;
necessity obliged me to travel on foot: I walked very fast as far as
Cours-la-Reine, where I intended to rest. A moment of solitude and
tranquillity was requisite to compose myself, and to consider what was
to be done in Paris.
"I sat down upon the grass. I plunged into a sea of thoughts and
considerations, which at length resolved themselves into three principal
heads. I had pressing want of an infinite number of absolute
necessaries; I had to seek some mode of at least raising a hope for the
future; and, though last, not least in importance, I had to gain
information, and adopt measures, to secure Manon’s safety and my own.
After having exhausted myself in devising projects upon these three
chief points, I was obliged to put out of view for the moment the two
last. We were not ill sheltered from observation in the inn at Chaillot;
and as to future wants, I thought it would be time enough to think about
them when those of the moment were satisfied.
"The main object now was to replenish my purse. M. de T---- had once
offered me his, but I had an extreme repugnance to mention the subject
to him again. What a degradation to expose one’s misery to a stranger,
and to ask for charity: it must be either a man of low mind who would
thus demean himself, and that from a baseness which must render him
insensible to the degradation, or a humble Christian, from a
consciousness of generosity in himself, which must put him above the
sense of shame. I would have sacrificed half my life to be spared the
humiliation.
"‘Tiberge,’ said I, ‘kind Tiberge, will he refuse me what he has it
in his power to grant? No, he will assuredly sympathise in my misery;
but he will also torture me with his lectures! One must endure his
reproaches, his exhortations, his threats: I shall have to purchase his
assistance so dearly, that I would rather make any sacrifice than
encounter this distressing scene, which cannot fail to leave me full of
sorrow and remorse. Well,’ thought I again, ‘all hope must be
relinquished, since no other course presents itself: so far am I from
adopting either of these, that I would sooner shed half my blood than
face one of these evils, or the last drop rather than encounter both.
Yes, the very last drop,’ I repeated after a moment’s reflection, ‘I
would sacrifice willingly rather than submit to such base supplication!
"‘But it is not in reality a question of my existence! Manon’s life
and maintenance, her love and her fidelity, are at stake! What
consideration can outweigh that? In her are centred all my glory,
happiness, and future fortune! There are doubtless many things that I
would gladly give up my life to obtain, or to avoid; but to estimate a
thing merely beyond the value of my own life, is not putting it on a par
with that of Manon.’ This idea soon decided me: I went on my way,
resolved to go first to Tiberge, and afterwards to M. de T----.
"On entering Paris I took a hackney-coach, though I had not
wherewithal to pay for it; I calculated on the loan I was going to
solicit. I drove to the Luxembourg, whence I sent word to Tiberge that I
was waiting for him. I had not to stay many minutes. I told him without
hesitation the extremity of my wants. He asked if the fifty pounds which
I had returned to him would suffice, and he at once went to fetch it
with that generous air, that pleasure in bestowing which ‘blesseth him
that gives, and him that takes,’ and which can only be known to love or
to true friendship.
"Although I had never entertained a doubt of Tiberge’s readiness to
grant my request, yet I was surprised at having obtained it on such easy
terms, that is to say, without a word of reprimand for my impenitence;
but I was premature in fancying myself safe from his reproaches, for
when he had counted out the money, and I was on the point of going away,
he begged of me to take a walk with him in the garden. I had not
mentioned Manon’s name; he knew nothing of her escape; so that his
lecture was merely upon my own rash flight from St. Lazare, and upon his
apprehensions lest, instead of profiting by the lessons of morality
which I had received there, I should again relapse into dissipation.
"He told me, that having gone to pay me a visit at St. Lazare, the
day after my escape, he had been astonished beyond expression at hearing
the mode in which I had effected it; that he had afterwards a
conversation with the Superior; that the good Father had not quite
recovered the shock; that he had, however, the generosity to conceal the
real circumstances from the lieutenant-general of police, and that he
had prevented the death of the porter from becoming known outside the
walls; that I had, therefore, upon that score, no ground for alarm, but
that, if I retained one grain of prudence, I should profit by this happy
turn which Providence had given to my affairs, and begin by writing to
my father, and reconciling myself to his favour; and finally that, if I
would be guided by his advice, I should at once quit Paris, and return
to the bosom of my family.
"I listened to him attentively till he had finished. There was much
in what he said to gratify me. In the first place, I was delighted to
learn that I had nothing to fear on account of St. Lazare--the streets
of Paris at least were again open to me. Then I rejoiced to find that
Tiberge had no suspicion of Manon’s escape, and her return to my arms. I
even remarked that he had not mentioned her name, probably from the idea
that, by my seeming indifference to her, she had become less dear to my
heart. I resolved, if not to return home, at least to write to my
father, as he advised me, and to assure him that I was disposed to
return to my duty, and consult his wishes. My intention was to urge him
to send me money for the purpose of pursuing my ordinary studies at the
University, for I should have found it difficult to persuade him that I
had any inclination to resume my ecclesiastical habit. I was in truth
not at all averse to what I was now going to promise him. On the
contrary, I was ready to apply myself to some creditable and rational
pursuit, so far as the occupation would be compatible with my love. I
reckoned upon being able to live with my mistress, and at the same time
continuing my studies. I saw no inconsistency in this plan.
"These thoughts were so satisfactory to my mind, that I promised
Tiberge to dispatch a letter by that day’s post to my father: in fact,
on leaving him, I went into a scrivener’s, and wrote in such a
submissive and dutiful tone, that, on reading over my own letter, I
anticipated the triumph I was going to achieve over my father’s heart.
"Although I had money enough to pay for a hackney-coach after my
interview with Tiberge, I felt a pleasure in walking independently
through the streets to M. de T----’s house. There was great comfort in
this unaccustomed exercise of my liberty, as to which my friend had
assured me I had nothing now to apprehend. However, it suddenly occurred
to me, that he had been only referring to St. Lazare, and that I had the
other affair of the Hospital on my hands; being implicated, if not as an
accomplice, at all events as a witness. This thought alarmed me so much,
that I slipped down the first narrow street, and called a coach. I went
at once to M. de T----’s, and he laughed at my apprehensions. I myself
thought them ridiculous enough, when he informed me that there was no
more danger from Lescaut’s affray, than from the Hospital adventure. He
told me that, from the fear of their suspecting that he had a hand in
Manon’s escape, he had gone that morning to the Hospital and asked to
see her, pretending not to know anything of what had happened; that they
were so far from entertaining the least suspicion of either of us, that
they lost no time in relating the adventure as a piece of news to him;
and that they wondered how so pretty a girl as Manon Lescaut could have
thought of eloping with a servant: that he replied with seeming
indifference, that it by no means astonished him, for people would do
anything for the sake of liberty.
"He continued to tell me how he then went to Lescaut’s apartments, in
the hope of finding me there with my dear mistress; that the master of
the house, who was a coachmaker, protested he had seen neither me nor
Manon; but that it was no wonder that we had not appeared there, if our
object was to see Lescaut, for that we must have doubtless heard of his
having been assassinated about the very same time; upon which, he
related all that he knew of the cause and circumstances of the murder.
"About two hours previously, a guardsman of Lescaut’s acquaintance
had come to see him, and proposed play. Lescaut had such a rapid and
extravagant run of luck, that in an hour the young man was minus twelve
hundred francs--all the money he had. Finding himself without a sou, he
begged of Lescaut to lend him half the sum he had lost; and there being
some difficulty on this point, an angry quarrel arose between them.
Lescaut had refused to give him the required satisfaction, and the other
swore, on quitting him, that he would take his life; a threat which he
carried into execution the same night. M. de T---- was kind enough to
add, that he had felt the utmost anxiety on our account, and that, such
as they were, he should gladly continue to us his services. I at once
told him the place of our retreat. He begged of me to allow him to sup
with us.
"As I had nothing more to do than to procure the linen and clothes
for Manon, I told him that we might start almost immediately, if he
would be so good as to wait for me a moment while I went into one or two
shops. I know not whether he suspected that I made this proposition with
the view of calling his generosity into play, or whether it was by the
mere impulse of a kind heart; but, having consented to start
immediately, he took me to a shopkeeper, who had lately furnished his
house. He there made me select several articles of a much higher price
than I had proposed to myself; and when I was about paying the bill, he
desired the man not to take a sou from me. This he did so gracefully,
that I felt no shame in accepting his present. We then took the road to
Chaillot together, where I arrived much more easy in mind than when I
had left it that morning.
"My return and the polite attentions of M. de T---- dispelled all
Manon’s melancholy. ‘Let us forget our past annoyances, my dear soul,’
said I to her, ‘and endeavour to live a still happier life than before.
After all, there are worse masters than love: fate cannot subject, us to
as much sorrow as love enables us to taste of happiness.’ Our supper was
a true scene of joy.
"In possession of Manon and of twelve hundred and fifty francs, I was
prouder and more contented than the richest voluptuary of Paris with
untold treasures. Wealth should be measured by the means it affords us
of satisfying our desires. There did not remain to me at this moment a
single wish unaccomplished. Even the future gave me little concern. I
felt a hope, amounting almost to certainty, that my father would allow
me the means of living respectably in Paris, because I had become
entitled, on entering upon my twentieth year, to a share of my mother’s
fortune. I did not conceal from Manon what was the extent of my present
wealth; but I added, that it might suffice to support us until our
fortune was bettered, either by the inheritance I have just alluded to,
or by the resources of the hazard-table.
|
CHAPTER VIII
"For several weeks I thus continued to think only of enjoying the full
luxury of my situation; and being restrained, by a sense of honour, as
well as a lurking apprehension of the police, from renewing my intimacy
with my former companions at the hotel of Transylvania, I began to play
in certain coteries less notorious, where my good luck rendered it
unnecessary for me to have recourse to my former accomplishments. I
passed a part of the afternoon in town, and returned always to supper at
Chaillot, accompanied very often by M. de T----, whose intimacy and
friendship for us daily increased.
"Manon soon found resources against ennui. She became acquainted with
some young ladies, whom the spring brought into the neighbourhood. They
occupied their leisure hours in walking, and the customary amusements of
persons of their sex and age. Their little gains at cards (always within
innocent limits) were laid out in defraying the expense of a coach, in
which they took an airing occasionally in the Bois de Boulogne; and each
night when I returned, I was sure of finding Manon more beautiful--more
contented--more affectionate than ever.
"There arose, however, certain clouds, which seemed to threaten the
continuance of this blissful tranquillity, but they were soon dispelled;
and Manon’s sprightliness made the affair so excessively comical in its
termination, that it is even now pleasing to recur to it, as a proof of
the tenderness as well as the cheerfulness of her disposition.
"The only servant we had came to me one day, with great
embarrassment, and taking me aside, told me that he had a secret of the
utmost importance to communicate to me. I urged him to explain himself
without reserve. After some hesitation, he gave me to understand that a
foreigner of high rank had apparently fallen in love with Manon. I felt
my blood boil at the announcement. ‘Has she shown any penchant for him?’
I enquired, interrupting my informant with more impatience than was
requisite, if I desired to have a full explanation.
"He was alarmed at my excitement; and replied in an undecided tone,
that he had not made sufficiently minute observation to satisfy me; but
that, having noticed for several days together the regular arrival of
the stranger at the Bois de Boulogne, where, quitting his carriage, he
walked by himself in the cross-avenues, appearing to seek opportunities
of meeting Manon, it had occurred to him to form an acquaintance with
the servants, in order to discover the name of their master; that they
spoke of him as an Italian prince, and that they also suspected he was
upon some adventure of gallantry. He had not been able to learn anything
further, he added, trembling as he spoke, because the prince, then on
the point of leaving the wood, had approached him, and with the most
condescending familiarity asked his name; upon which, as if he at once
knew that he was in our service, he congratulated him on having, for his
mistress, the most enchanting person upon earth.
"I listened to this recital with the greatest impatience. He ended
with the most awkward excuses, which I attributed to the premature and
imprudent display of my own agitation. In vain I implored him to
continue his history. He protested that he knew nothing more, and that
what he had previously told me, having only happened the preceding day,
he had not had a second opportunity of seeing the prince’s servants. I
encouraged him, not only with praises, but with a substantial
recompense; and without betraying the slightest distrust of Manon, I
requested him, in the mildest manner, to keep strict watch upon all the
foreigner’s movements.
"In truth, the effect of his fright was to leave me in a state of the
cruellest suspense. It was possible that she had ordered him to suppress
part of the truth. However, after a little reflection, I recovered
sufficiently from my fears to see the manner in which I had exposed my
weaknesses. I could hardly consider it a crime in Manon to be loved.
Judging from appearances, it was probable that she was not even aware of
her conquest. ‘And what kind of life shall I in future lead,’ thought I,
‘if I am capable of letting jealousy so easily take possession of my
mind?’
"I returned on the following day to Paris, with no other intention
than to hasten the improvement of my fortune, by playing deeper than
ever, in order to be in a condition to quit Chaillot on the first real
occasion for uneasiness. That night I learned nothing at all calculated
to trouble my repose. The foreigner had, as usual, made his appearance
in the Bois de Boulogne; and venturing, from what had passed the
preceding day, to accost my servant more familiarly, he spoke to him
openly of his passion, but in such terms as not to lead to the slightest
suspicion of Manon’s being aware of it. He put a thousand questions to
him, and at last tried to bribe him with large promises; and taking a
letter from his pocket, he in vain entreated him, with the promise of
some louis d’ors, to convey it to her.
"Two days passed without anything more occurring: the third was of a
different character. I learned on my arrival, later than usual, from
Paris, that Manon, while in the wood, had left her companions for a
moment, and that the foreigner, who had followed her at a short
distance, approached, upon her making him a sign, and that she handed
him a letter, which he took with a transport of joy. He had only time to
express his delight by kissing the billet-doux, for she was out of sight
in an instant. But she appeared in unusually high spirits the remainder
of the day; and even after her return to our lodgings, her gaiety
continued. I trembled at every word.
"‘Are you perfectly sure,’ said I, in an agony of fear, to my
servant, ‘that your eyes have not deceived you?’ He called Heaven to
witness the truth of what he had told me.
"I know not to what excess the torments of my mind would have driven
me, if Manon, who heard me come in, had not met me with an air of
impatience, and complained of my delay. Before I had time to reply, she
loaded me with caresses; and when she found we were alone, she
reproached me warmly with the habit I was contracting of staying out so
late. My silence gave her an opportunity of continuing; and she then
said that for the last three weeks I had never spent one entire day in
her society; that she could not endure such prolonged absence; that she
should at least expect me to give up a day to her from time to time, and
that she particularly wished me to be with, her on the following day
from morning till night.
"‘You may be very certain I shall do that,’ said I, in rather a sharp
tone. She did not appear to notice my annoyance; she seemed to me to
have more than her usual cheerfulness; and she described, with infinite
pleasantry, the manner in which she had spent the day.
"‘Incomprehensible girl!" said I to myself; ‘what am I to expect
after such a prelude?’ The adventures of my first separation occurred to
me; nevertheless, I fancied I saw in her cheerfulness, and the
affectionate reception she gave me, an air of truth that perfectly
accorded with her professions.
"It was an easy matter at supper to account for the low spirits which
I could not conceal, by attributing them to a loss I had that day
sustained at the gaming-table. I considered it most fortunate that the
idea of my remaining all the next day at Chaillot was suggested by
herself: I should thus have ample time for deliberation. My presence
would prevent any fears for at least the next day; and if nothing should
occur to compel me to disclose the discovery I had already made, I was
determined on the following day to move my establishment into town, and
fix myself in a quarter where I should have nothing to apprehend from
the interference of princes. This arrangement made me pass the night
more tranquilly, but it by no means put an end to the alarm I felt at
the prospect of a new infidelity.
"When I awoke in the morning, Manon said to me, that although we were
to pass the day at home, she did not at all wish that I should be less
carefully dressed than on other occasions; and that she had a particular
fancy for doing the duties of my toilette that morning with her own
hands. It was an amusement she often indulged in: but she appeared to
take more pains on this occasion than I had ever observed before. To
gratify her, I was obliged to sit at her toilette table, and try all the
different modes she imagined for dressing my hair. In the course of the
operation, she made me often turn my head round towards her, and putting
both hands upon my shoulders, she would examine me with most anxious
curiosity: then, showing her approbation by one or two kisses, she would
make me resume my position before the glass, in order to continue her
occupation.
"This amatory trifling engaged us till dinner-time. The pleasure she
seemed to derive from it, and her more than usual gaiety, appeared to me
so thoroughly natural, that I found it impossible any longer to suspect
the treason I had previously conjured up; and I was several times on the
point of candidly opening my mind to her, and throwing off a load that
had begun to weigh heavily upon my heart: but I flattered myself with
the hope that the explanation would every moment come from herself, and
I anticipated the delicious triumph this would afford me.
"We returned to her boudoir. She began again to put my hair in order,
and I humoured all her whims; when they came to say that the Prince of
---- was below, and wished to see her. The name alone almost threw me
into a rage.
"‘What then,’ exclaimed I, as I indignantly pushed her from me,
‘who?--what prince?’
"She made no answer to my enquiries.
"‘Show him upstairs,’ said she coolly to the servant; and then
turning towards me, ‘Dearest love! you whom I so fervently adore,’ she
added in the most bewitching tone, ‘I only ask of you one moment’s
patience; one moment, one single moment! I will love you ten thousand
times more than ever: your compliance now shall never, during my life,
be forgotten.’
"Indignation and astonishment deprived me of the power of utterance.
She renewed her entreaties, and I could not find adequate expressions to
convey my feelings of anger and contempt. But hearing the door of the
ante-chamber open, she grasped with one hand my locks, which were
floating over my shoulders, while she took her toilette mirror in the
other, and with all her strength led me in this manner to the door of
the boudoir, which she opened with her knee, and presented to the
foreigner, who had been prevented by the noise he heard inside from
advancing beyond the middle of the ante-chamber, a spectacle that must
have indeed amazed him. I saw a man extremely well dressed, but with a
particularly ill-favoured countenance.
"Notwithstanding his embarrassment, he made her a profound bow. Manon
gave him no time for speech-making; she held up the mirror before him:
‘Look, sir,’ said she to him, ‘observe yourself minutely, and I only ask
you then to do me justice. You wish me to love you: this is the man whom
I love, and whom I have sworn to love during my whole life: make the
comparison yourself. If you think you can rival him in my affections,
tell me at least upon what pretensions; for I solemnly declare to you,
that, in the estimation of your most obedient humble servant, all the
princes in Italy are not worth a single one of the hairs I now hold in
my hand.’
"During this whimsical harangue, which she had apparently prepared
beforehand, I tried in vain to disengage myself, and feeling compassion
for a person of such consideration, I was desirous, by my politeness at
least, of making some reparation for this little outrage. But recovering
his self-possession with the ease of a man accustomed to the world, he
put an end to my feelings of pity by his reply, which was, in my
opinion, rude enough.
"‘Young lady! young lady!’ said he to her, with a sardonic smile, ’my
eyes in truth are opened, and I perceive that you are much less of a
novice than I had pictured to myself.’
"He immediately retired without looking at her again, muttering to
himself that the French women were quite as bad as those of Italy. I
felt little desire, on this occasion, to change his opinion of the fair
sex.
"Manon let go my hand, threw herself into an armchair, and made the
room resound with her shouts of laughter. I candidly confess that I was
touched most sensibly by this unexpected proof of her affection, and by
the sacrifice of her own interest which I had just witnessed, and which
she could only have been induced to make by her excessive love for me.
Still, however, I could not help thinking she had gone rather too far. I
reproached her with what I called her indiscretion. She told me that my
rival, after having besieged her for several days in the Bois de
Boulogne, and having made her comprehend his object by signs and
grimaces, had actually made an open declaration of love; informing her
at the same time of his name and all his titles, by means of a letter,
which he had sent through the hands of the coachman who drove her and
her companions; that he had promised her, on the other side of the Alps,
a brilliant fortune and eternal adoration; that she returned to
Chaillot, with the intention of relating to me the whole adventure, but
that, fancying it might be made a source of amusement to us, she could
not help gratifying her whim; that she accordingly invited the Italian
prince, by a flattering note, to pay her a visit; and that it had
afforded her equal delight to make me an accomplice, without giving me
the least suspicion of her plan. I said not a word of the information I
had received through another channel; and the intoxication of triumphant
love made me applaud all she had done.
|
CHAPTER IX
"During my life I have remarked that fate has invariably chosen for
the time of its severest visitations, those moments when my fortune
seemed established on the firmest basis. In the friendship of M. de
T----, and the tender affections of Manon, I imagined myself so
thoroughly happy, that I could not harbour the slightest apprehension of
any new misfortune: there was one, nevertheless, at this very period
impending, which reduced me to the state in which you beheld me at Passy,
and which eventually brought in its train miseries of so deplorable a
nature, that you will have difficulty in believing the simple recital
that follows.
"One evening, when M. de T---- remained to sup with us, we heard the
sound of a carriage stopping at the door of the inn. Curiosity tempted
us to see who it was that arrived at this hour. They told us it was
young G---- M----, the son of our most vindictive enemy, of that
debauched old sinner who had incarcerated me in St. Lazare, and Manon in
the Hospital. His name made the blood mount to my cheeks. ‘It is
Providence that has led him here,’ said I to M. de T----, that I may
punish him for the cowardly baseness of his father. He shall not escape
without our measuring swords at least.’ M. de T----, who knew him, and
was even one of his most intimate friends, tried to moderate my feelings
of anger towards him. He assured me that he was a most amiable young
man, and so little capable of countenancing his father’s conduct, that I
could not be many minutes in his society without feeling esteem and
affection for him. After saying many more things in his praise, he
begged my permission to invite him to come and sit in our apartment, as
well as to share the remainder of our supper. As to the objection of
Manon being exposed by this proceeding to any danger, he pledged his
honour and good faith, that when once the young man became acquainted
with us, we should find in him a most zealous defender. After such an
assurance, I could offer no further opposition.
"M. de T---- did not introduce him without delaying a few moments
outside, to let him know who we were. He certainly came in with an air
that prepossessed us in his favour: he shook hands with me; we sat down;
he admired Manon; he appeared pleased with me, and with everything that
belonged to us; and he ate with an appetite that did abundant honour to
our hospitality.
"When the table was cleared, our conversation became more serious. He
hung down his head while he spoke of his father’s conduct towards us. He
made, on his own part, the most submissive excuses. ‘I say the less upon
the subject,’ said he, ‘because I do not wish to recall a circumstance
that fills me with grief and shame.’ If he were sincere in the
beginning, he became much more so in the end, for the conversation had
not lasted half an hour, when I perceived that Manon’s charms had made a
visible impression upon him. His looks and his manner became by degrees
more tender. He, however, allowed no expression to escape him; but,
without even the aid of jealousy, I had had experience enough in love
affairs to discern what was passing.
"He remained with us till a late hour in the night, and before he
took his leave, congratulated himself on having made our acquaintance,
and begged permission to call and renew the offer of his services. He
went off next morning with M. de T----, who accepted the offer of a seat
in his carriage.
"I felt, as I before said, not the slightest symptom of jealousy I
had a more foolish confidence than ever in Manon’s vows. This dear
creature had so absolute a dominion over my whole soul and affections,
that I could give place to no other sentiment towards her than that of
admiration and love. Far from considering it a crime that she should
have pleased young G---- M----, I was gratified by the effect of her
charms, and experienced only a feeling of pride in being loved by a girl
whom the whole world found so enchanting. I did not even deem it worth
while to mention my suspicions to her. We were for some days occupied in
arranging her new wardrobe, and in considering whether we might venture
to the theatre without the risk of being recognised. M. de T---- came
again to see us before the end of the week, and we consulted him upon
this point. He saw clearly that the way to please Manon was to say yes:
we resolved to go all together that same evening.
"We were not able, however, to carry this intention into effect; for,
having taken me aside, ‘I have been in the greatest embarrassment,’ said
he to me, ‘since I saw you, and that is the cause of my visiting you
today. G---- M---- is in love with your mistress: he told me so in
confidence; I am his intimate friend, and disposed to do him any service
in my power; but I am not less devoted to you; his designs appeared to
me unjustifiable, and I expressed my disapprobation of them; I should
not have divulged his secret, if he had only intended to use fair and
ordinary means for gaining Manon’s affections; but he is aware of her
capricious disposition; he has learned, God knows how, that her ruling
passion is for affluence and pleasure; and, as he is already in
possession of a considerable fortune, he declared his intention of
tempting her at once with a present of great value, and the offer of an
annuity of six thousand francs; if I had in all other points considered
you both in an equal light, I should have had perhaps to do more
violence to my feelings in betraying him: but a sense of justice as well
as of friendship was on your side, and the more so from having been
myself the imprudent, though unconscious, cause of his passion in
introducing him here. I feel it my duty therefore to avert any evil
consequences from the mischief I have inadvertently caused.
"I thanked M. de T---- for rendering me so important a service, and
confessed to him, in a like spirit of confidence, that Manon’s
disposition was precisely what G---- M---- had imagined; that is to say,
that she was incapable of enduring even the thought of poverty.
‘However,’ said I to him, ‘when it is a mere question of more or less, I
do not believe that she would give me up for any other person; I can
afford to let her want for nothing, and I have from day to day reason to
hope that my fortune will improve; I only dread one thing,’ continued I,
‘which is, that G---- M---- may take unfair advantage of the knowledge
he has of our place of residence, and bring us into trouble by
disclosing it.’
"M. de T---- assured me that I might be perfectly easy upon that
head; that G---- M---- might be capable of a silly passion, but not of
an act of baseness; that if he ever could be villain enough for such a
thing, he, de T----, would be the first to punish him, and by that means
make reparation for the mischief he had occasioned. ‘I feel grateful for
what you say,’ said I, ‘but the mischief will have been all done, and
the remedy even seems doubtful; the wisest plan therefore will be to
quit Chaillot, and go to reside elsewhere.’ ‘Very true,’ said M. de
T----, ‘but you will not be able to do it quickly enough, for G----
M---- is to be here at noon; he told me so yesterday, and it was that
intelligence that made me come so early this morning to inform you of
his intentions. You may expect him every moment."
"The urgency of the occasion made me view this matter in a more
serious light. As it seemed to me impossible to escape the visit of
G---- M----, and perhaps equally so to prevent him from making his
declaration to Manon, I resolved to tell her beforehand of the designs
of my new rival. I fancied that when she knew I was aware of the offers
that would be made to her, and made probably in my presence, she would
be the more likely to reject them. I told M. de T---- of my intention,
and he observed that he thought it a matter of extreme delicacy. ‘I
admit it,’ said I, ‘but no man ever had more reason for confiding in a
mistress, than I have for relying on the affection of mine. The only
thing that could possibly for a moment blind her, is the splendour of
his offers; no doubt she loves her ease, but she loves me also; and in
my present circumstances, I cannot believe that she would abandon me for
the son of the man who had incarcerated her in the Magdalen.’ In fine, I
persisted in my intentions, and taking Manon aside, I candidly told her
what I had learned.
"She thanked me for the good opinion I entertained of her, and
promised to receive G---- M----’s offers in a way that should prevent a
repetition of them. ‘No,’ said I, ‘you must not irritate him by
incivility: he has it in his power to injure us. But you know well
enough, you little rogue,’ continued I, smiling, ‘how to rid yourself of
a disagreeable or useless lover!’ After a moment’s pause she said: ‘I
have just thought of an admirable plan, and I certainly have a fertile
invention. G---- M---- is the son of our bitterest enemy: we must avenge
ourselves on the father, not through the son’s person, but through his
purse. My plan is to listen to his proposals, accept his presents, and
then laugh at him.’
"‘The project is not a bad one,’ said I to her; ‘but you forget, my
dear child, that it is precisely the same course that conducted us
formerly to the penitentiary.’ I represented to her the danger of such
an enterprise; she replied, that the only thing necessary was to take
our measures with caution, and she found an answer to every objection I
started. ‘Show me the lover who does not blindly humour every whim of an
adored mistress, and I will then allow that I was wrong in yielding so
easily on this occasion.’ The resolution was taken to make a dupe of
G----M----, and by an unforeseen and unlucky turn of fortune, I became
the victim myself.
"About eleven o’clock his carriage drove up to the door. He made the
most complaisant and refined speeches upon the liberty he had taken of
coming to dine with us uninvited. He was not surprised at meeting M. de
T----, who had the night before promised to meet him there, and who had,
under some pretext or other, refused a seat in his carriage. Although
there was not a single person in the party who was not at heart
meditating treachery, we all sat down with an air of mutual confidence
and friendship. G---- M---- easily found an opportunity of declaring his
sentiments to Manon. I did not wish to annoy him by appearing vigilant,
so I left the room purposely for several minutes.
"I perceived on my return that he had not had to encounter any very
discouraging austerity on Manon’s part, for he was in the best possible
spirits. I affected good humour also. He was laughing in his mind at my
simplicity, while I was not less diverted by his own. During the whole
evening we were thus supplying to each other an inexhaustible fund of
amusement. I contrived, before his departure, to let him have Manon for
another moment to himself; so that he had reason to applaud my
complaisance, as well as the hospitable reception I had given him.
"As soon as he got into his carriage with M. de T----, Manon ran
towards me with extended arms, and embraced me; laughing all the while
immoderately. She repeated all his speeches and proposals, without
altering a word. This was the substance: He of course adored her; and
wished to share with her a large fortune of which he was already in
possession, without counting what he was to inherit at his father’s
death. She should be sole mistress of his heart and fortune; and as an
immediate token of his liberality, he was ready at once to supply her
with an equipage, a furnished house, a lady’s maid, three footmen, and a
man-cook.
"‘There is indeed a son,’ said I, ‘very different from his father!
But tell me truly, now, does not such an offer tempt you?’ ‘Me!’ she
replied, adapting to the idea two verses from Racine--
Moi! vous me soupconnez de cette perfidie?
Moi! je pourrais souffrir un visage odieux,
Qui rappelle toujours l’Hopital a mes yeux?
‘No I’ replied I, continuing the parody--
J’aurais peine a penser que l’Hopital, madame,
Fut un trait dont l’amour l’eut grave dans votre ame.
‘But it assuredly is a temptation--a furnished house, a lady’s maid,
a cook, a carriage, and three servants--gallantry can offer but few more
seductive temptations.’
"She protested that her heart was entirely mine, and that it was for
the future only open to the impressions I chose to make upon it. ‘I look
upon his promises,’ said she, ‘as an instrument for revenge, rather than
as a mark of love.’ I asked her if she thought of accepting the hotel
and the carriage. She replied that his money was all she wanted.
The difficulty was, how to obtain the one without the other; we
resolved to wait for a detailed explanation of the whole project in a
letter which G---- M---- promised to write to her, and which in fact she
received next morning by a servant out of livery, who, very cleverly,
contrived an opportunity of speaking to her alone.
She told him to wait for an answer, and immediately brought the
letter to me: we opened it together.
"Passing over the usual commonplace expressions of tenderness, it
gave a particular detail of my rival’s promises. There were no limits to
the expense. He engaged to pay her down ten thousand francs on her
taking possession of the hotel, and to supply her expenditure in such a
way as that she should never have less than that sum at her command. The
appointed day for her entering into possession was close at hand. He
only required two days for all his preparations, and he mentioned the
name of the street and the hotel, where he promised to be in waiting for
her in the afternoon of the second day, if she could manage to escape my
vigilance. That was the only point upon which he begged of her to
relieve his uneasiness; he seemed to be quite satisfied upon every
other: but he added that, if she apprehended any difficulty in escaping
from me, he could find sure means for facilitating her flight.
"G---- M---- the younger was more cunning than the old gentleman. He
wanted to secure his prey before he counted out the cash. We considered
what course Manon should adopt. I made another effort to induce her to
give up the scheme, and strongly represented all its dangers; nothing,
however, could shake her determination.
"Her answer to G---- M---- was brief, merely assuring him that she
could be, without the least difficulty, in Paris on the appointed day
and that he might expect her with certainty.
"We then resolved, that I should instantly hire lodgings in some
village on the other side of Paris, and that I should take our luggage
with me; that in the afternoon of the following day, which was the time
appointed, she should go to Paris; that, after receiving G---- M----’s
presents, she should earnestly entreat him to take her to the theatre;
that she should carry with her as large a portion of the money as she
could, and charge my servant with the remainder, for it was agreed that
he was to accompany her. He was the man who had rescued her from the
Magdalen, and he was devotedly attached to us. I was to be with a
hackney-coach at the end of the street of St. Andre-des-arcs, and to
leave it there about seven o’clock, while I stole, under cover of the
twilight, to the door of the theatre. Manon promised to make some excuse
for quitting her box for a moment, when she would come down and join me.
The rest could be easily done. We were then to return to my
hackney-coach, and quit Paris by the Faubourg St. Antoine, which was the
road to our new residence.
"This plan, extravagant as it was, appeared to us satisfactorily
arranged. But our greatest folly was in imagining that, succeed as we
might in its execution, it would be possible for us to escape the
consequences. Nevertheless, we exposed ourselves to all risk with the
blindest confidence. Manon took her departure with Marcel--so was the
servant called. I could not help feeling a pang as she took leave of me.
‘Manon,’ said I, ‘do not deceive me; will you be faithful to me?’ She
complained, in the tenderest tone, of my want of confidence, and renewed
all her protestations of eternal love.
"She was to be in Paris at three o’clock. I went some time after. I
spent the remainder of the afternoon moping in the Cafe de Fere, near
the Pont St. Michel. I remained there till nightfall. I then hired a
hackney-coach, which I placed, according to our plan, at the end of the
street of St. Andre-des-arcs, and went on foot to the door of the
theatre. I was surprised at not seeing Marcel, who was to have been
there waiting for me. I waited patiently for a full hour, standing among
a crowd of lackeys, and gazing at every person that passed. At length,
seven o’clock having struck, without my being able to discover anything
or any person connected with our project, I procured a pit ticket, in
order to ascertain if Manon and G---- M---- were in the boxes. Neither
one nor the other could I find. I returned to the door, where I again
stopped for a quarter of an hour, in an agony of impatience and
uneasiness. No person appeared, and I went back to the coach, without
knowing what to conjecture. The coachman, seeing me, advanced a few
paces towards me, and said, with a mysterious air, that a very handsome
young person had been waiting more than an hour for me in the coach;
that she described me so exactly that he could not be mistaken, and
having learned that I intended to return, she said she would enter the
coach and wait with patience.
"‘I felt confident that it was Manon. I approached. I beheld a very
pretty face, certainly, but alas, not hers. The lady asked, in a voice
that I had never before heard, whether she had the honour of speaking to
the Chevalier des Grieux? I answered, ‘That is my name.’ ‘I have a
letter for you,’ said she, ‘which will tell you what has brought me
here, and by what means I learned your name.’ I begged she would allow
me a few moments to read it in an adjoining cafe. She proposed to follow
me, and advised me to ask for a private room, to which I consented. ‘Who
is the writer of this letter?’ I enquired. She referred me to the letter
itself.
"I recognised Manon’s hand. This is nearly the substance of the
letter: G---- M---- had received her with a politeness and magnificence
beyond anything she had previously conceived. He had loaded her with the
most gorgeous presents. She had the prospect of almost imperial
splendour. She assured me, however, that she could not forget me amidst
all this magnificence; but that, not being able to prevail on G----
M---- to take her that evening to the play, she was obliged to defer the
pleasure of seeing me; and that, as a slight consolation for the
disappointment which she feared this might cause me, she had found a
messenger in one of the loveliest girls in all Paris. She signed
herself, ‘Your loving and constant, MANON LESCAUT.’
"There was something so cruel and so insulting in the letter, that,
what between indignation and grief, I resolutely determined to forget
eternally my ungrateful and perjured mistress. I looked at the young
woman who stood before me: she was exceedingly pretty, and I could have
wished that she had been sufficiently so to render me inconstant in my
turn. But there were wanting those lovely and languishing eyes, that
divine gracefulness, that exquisite complexion, in fine, those
innumerable charms which nature had so profusely lavished upon the
perfidious Manon. ‘No, no,’ said I, turning away from her; ‘the
ungrateful wretch who sent you knew in her heart that she was sending
you on a useless errand. Return to her; and tell her from me, to triumph
in her crime, and enjoy it, if she can, without remorse. I abandon her
in despair, and, at the same time, renounce all women, who, without her
fascination, are no doubt her equals in baseness and infidelity.’
"I was then on the point of going away, determined never to bestow
another thought on Manon: the mortal jealousy that was racking my heart
lay concealed under a dark and sullen melancholy, and I fancied, because
I felt none of those violent emotions which I had experienced upon
former occasions, that I had shaken off my thraldom. Alas! I was even at
that moment infinitely more the dupe of love, than of, G---- M---- and
Manon.
"The girl who had brought the letter, seeing me about to depart,
asked me what I wished her to say to M. G---- M----, and to the lady who
was with him? At this question, I stepped back again into the room, and
by one of those unaccountable transitions that are only known to the
victims of violent passion, I passed in an instant from the state of
subdued tranquillity which I have just described, into an ungovernable
fury ‘Away!’ said I to her, ‘tell the traitor G---- M----and his
abandoned mistress the state of despair into which your accursed mission
has cast me; but warn them that it shall not be long a source of
amusement to them, and that my own hands shall be warmed with the
heart’s blood of both!’ I sank back upon a chair; my hat fell on one
side, and my cane upon the other: torrents of bitter tears rolled down
my cheeks. The paroxysm of rage changed into a profound and silent
grief: I did nothing but weep and sigh. ‘Approach, my child, approach,’
said I to the young girl; ‘approach, since it is you they have sent to
bring me comfort; tell me whether you have any balm to administer for
the pangs of despair and rage--any argument to offer against the crime
of self-destruction, which I have resolved upon, after ridding the world
of two perfidious monsters. Yes, approach,’ continued I, perceiving that
she advanced with timid and doubtful steps; ‘come and dry my sorrows;
come and restore peace to my mind; come and tell me that at least you
love me: you are handsome--I may perhaps love you in return.’ The poor
child, who was only sixteen or seventeen years of age, and who appeared
more modest than girls of her class generally are, was thunderstruck at
this unusual scene. She however gently approached to caress me, when
with uplifted hands I rudely repulsed her. ‘What do you wish with me?’
exclaimed I to her. ‘Ah! you are a woman, and of a sex I abhor, and can
no longer tolerate; the very gentleness of your look threatens me with
some new treason. Go, leave me here alone!’ She made me a curtsy without
uttering a word, and turned to go out. I called to her to stop: ‘Tell me
at least,’ said I, ‘wherefore-- how--with what design they sent you
here? how did you discover my name, or the place where you could find
me?’
"She told me that she had long known M. G---- M----; that he had sent
for her that evening about five o’clock; and that, having followed the
servant who had been dispatched to her, she was shown into a large
house, where she found him playing at picquet with a beautiful young
woman; and that they both charged her to deliver the letter into my
hands, after telling her that she would find me in a hackney-coach at
the bottom of the street of St. Andre. I asked if they had said nothing
more. She blushed while she replied, that they had certainly made her
believe that I should be glad of her society. ‘They have deceived you
too,’ said I, ‘my poor girl--they have deceived you; you are a woman,
and probably wish for a lover; but you must find one who is rich and
happy, and it is not here you will find him. Return, return to M. G----
M----; he possesses everything requisite to make a man beloved. He has
furnished houses and equipages to bestow, while I, who have nothing but
constancy of love to offer, am despised for my poverty, and laughed at
for my simplicity.’
"I continued in a tone of sorrow or violence, as these feelings
alternately took possession of my mind. However, by the very excess of
my agitation, I became gradually so subdued as to be able calmly to
reflect upon the situation of affairs. I compared this new misfortune
with those which I had already experienced of the same kind, and I could
not perceive that there was any more reason for despair now, than upon
former occasions. I knew Manon: why then distress myself on account of a
calamity which I could not but have plainly foreseen? Why not rather
think of seeking a remedy? there was yet time; I at least ought not to
spare my own exertions, if I wished to avoid the bitter reproach of
having contributed, by my own indolence, to my misery. I thereupon set
about considering every means of raising a gleam of hope.
"To attempt to take her by main force from the hands of G----M----
was too desperate a project, calculated only to ruin me, and without the
slightest probability of succeeding. But it seemed to me that if I could
ensure a moment’s interview with her, I could not fail to regain my
influence over her affections. I so well knew how to excite her
sensibilities! I was so confident of her love for me! The very whim even
of sending me a pretty woman by way of consoling me, I would stake my
existence, was her idea, and that it was the suggestion of her own
sincere sympathy for my sufferings.
"I resolved to exert every nerve to procure an interview. After a
multitude of plans which I canvassed one after another, I fixed upon the
following: M. de T---- had shown so much sincerity in the services he
had rendered me, that I could not entertain a doubt of his zeal and good
faith. I proposed to call upon him at once, and make him send for G----
M----, under pretence of some important business. Half an hour would
suffice to enable me to see Manon. I thought it would not be difficult
to get introduced into her apartment during G---- M----’s absence.
"This determination pacified me, and I gave a liberal present to the
girl, who was still with me; and in order to prevent her from returning
to those who had sent her, I took down her address, and half promised to
call upon her at a later hour. I then got into the hackney-coach, and
drove quickly to M. de T----’s. I was fortunate enough to find him at
home. I had been apprehensive upon this point as I went along. A single
sentence put him in possession of the whole case, as well of my
sufferings, as of the friendly service I had come to supplicate at his
hands.
"He was so astonished to learn that G---- M---- had been able to
seduce Manon from me, that, not being aware that I had myself lent a
hand to my own misfortune, he generously offered to assemble his
friends, and evoke their aid for the deliverance of my mistress. I told
him that such a proceeding might by its publicity be attended with
danger to Manon and to me. ‘Let us risk our lives,’ said I, ‘only as a
last resource. My plan is of a more peaceful nature, and promising at
least equal success.’ He entered without a murmur into all that I
proposed; so again stating that all I required was, that he should send
for G---- M----, and contrive to keep him an hour or two from home, we
at once set about our operations.
"We first of all considered what expedient we could make use of for
keeping him out so long a time. I proposed that he should write a note
dated from a cafe, begging of him to come there as soon as possible upon
an affair of too urgent importance to admit of delay. ‘I will watch,’
added I, ‘the moment he quits the house, and introduce myself without
any difficulty, being only known to Manon, and my servant Marcel. You
can at the same time tell G---- M----, that the important affair upon
which you wished to see him was the immediate want of a sum of money;
that you had just emptied your purse at play, and that you had played
on, with continued bad luck, upon credit. He will require some time to
take you to his father’s house, where he keeps his money, and I shall
have quite sufficient for the execution of my plan.’
"M. de T---- minutely adhered to these directions. I left him in a
cafe, where he at once wrote his letter. I took my station close by
Manon’s house. I saw de T----’s messenger arrive, and G---- M---- come
out the next moment, followed by a servant. Allowing him barely time to
get out of the street, I advanced to my deceiver’s door, and
notwithstanding the anger I felt, I knocked with as much respect as at
the portal of a church. Fortunately it was Marcel who opened for me.
Although I had nothing to apprehend from the other servants, I asked him
in a low voice if he could conduct me unseen into the room in which
Manon was. He said that was easily done, by merely ascending the great
staircase. ‘Come then at once,’ said I to him, ‘and endeavour to prevent
anyone from coming up while I am there.’ I reached the apartment without
any difficulty.
"Manon was reading. I had there an opportunity of admiring the
singular character of this girl. Instead of being nervous or alarmed at
my appearance, she scarcely betrayed a symptom of surprise, which few
persons, however indifferent, could restrain, on seeing one whom they
imagined to be far distant. ‘Ah! it is you, my dear love,’ said she,
approaching to embrace me with her usual tenderness. ‘Good heavens, how
venturesome and foolhardy you are! Who could have expected to see you in
this place!’ Instead of embracing her in return, I repulsed her with
indignation, and retreated two or three paces from her. This evidently
disconcerted her. She remained immovable, and fixed her eyes on me,
while she changed colour.
"I was in reality so delighted to behold her once more, that, with so
much real cause for anger, I could hardly bring my lips to upbraid her.
My heart, however, felt the cruel outrage she had inflicted upon me. I
endeavoured to revive the recollection of it in my own mind, in order to
excite my feelings, and put on a look of stern indignation. I remained
silent for a few moments, when I remarked that she observed my
agitation, and trembled: apparently the effect of her fears.
"I could not longer endure this spectacle. ‘Ah! Manon,’ said I to her
in the mildest tone, ‘faithless and perjured Manon! How am I to complain
of your conduct? I see you pale and trembling, and I am still so much
alive to your slightest sufferings, that I am unwilling to add to them
by my reproaches. But, Manon, I tell you that my heart is pierced with
sorrow at your treatment of me--treatment that is seldom inflicted but
with the purpose of destroying one’s life. This is the third time, Manon;
I have kept a correct account; it is impossible to forget that. It is
now for you to consider what course you will adopt; for my afflicted
heart is no longer capable of sustaining such shocks. I know and feel
that it must give way, and it is at this moment ready to burst with
grief. I can say no more,’ added I, throwing myself into a chair; ‘I
have hardly strength to speak, or to support myself.’
"She made me no reply; but when I was seated, she sank down upon her
knees, and rested her head upon my lap, covering her face with her
hands. I perceived in a moment that she was shedding floods of tears.
Heavens! with what conflicting sensations was I at that instant
agitated! ‘Ah! Manon, Manon,’ said I, sighing, ‘it is too late to give
me tears after the death-blow you have inflicted. You affect a sorrow
which you cannot feel. The greatest of your misfortunes is no doubt my
presence, which has been always an obstacle to your happiness. Open your
eyes; look up and see who it is that is here; you will not throw away
tears of tenderness upon an unhappy wretch whom you have betrayed and
abandoned.’
"She kissed my hands without changing her position. ‘Inconstant
Manon,’ said I again, ‘ungrateful and faithless girl, where now are all
your promises and your vows? Capricious and cruel that you are! what has
now become of the love that you protested for me this very day? Just
Heavens,’ added I, ‘is it thus you permit a traitor to mock you, after
having called you so solemnly to witness her vows! Recompense and reward
then are for the perjured! Despair and neglect are the lot of fidelity
and truth!’
"These words conveyed even to my own mind a sentiment so bitterly
severe, that, in spite of myself, some tears escaped from me. Manon
perceived this by the change in my voice. She at length spoke. ‘I must
have indeed done something most culpable,’ said she, sobbing with grief,
‘to have excited and annoyed you to this degree; but, I call Heaven to
attest my utter unconsciousness of crime, and my innocence of all
criminal intention!’
"This speech struck me as so devoid of reason and of truth, that I
could not restrain a lively feeling of anger. ‘Horrible hypocrisy!’
cried I; ‘I see more plainly than ever that you are dishonest and
treacherous. Now at length I learn your wretched disposition. Adieu,
base creature,’ said I, rising from my seat; ‘I would prefer death a
thousand times rather than continue to hold the slightest communication
with you. May Heaven punish me, if I ever again waste upon you the
smallest regard! Live on with your new lover--renounce all feelings of
honour--detest me--your love is now a matter to me of utter
insignificance!’
"Manon was so terrified by the violence of my anger, that, remaining
on her knees by the chair from which I had just before risen, breathless
and trembling, she fixed her eyes upon me. I advanced a little farther
towards the door, but, unless I had lost the last spark of humanity, I
could not continue longer unmoved by such a spectacle.
"So far, indeed, was I from this kind of stoical indifference, that,
rushing at once into the very opposite extreme, I returned, or rather
flew back to her without an instant’s reflection. I lifted her in my
arms; I gave her a thousand tender kisses; I implored her to pardon my
ungovernable temper; I confessed that I was an absolute brute, and
unworthy of being loved by such an angel.
"I made her sit down, and throwing myself, in my turn, upon my knees,
I conjured her to listen to me in that attitude. Then I briefly
expressed all that a submissive and impassioned lover could say most
tender and respectful. I supplicated her pardon. She let her arms fall
over my neck, as she said that it was she who stood in need of
forgiveness, and begged of me in mercy to forget all the annoyances she
had caused me, and that she began, with reason, to fear that I should
not approve of what she had to say in her justification. ‘Me!’ said I
interrupting her impatiently; ‘I require no justification; I approve of
all you have done. It is not for me to demand excuses for anything you
do; I am but too happy, too contented, if my dear Manon will only leave
me master of her affections! But,’ continued I, remembering that it was
the crisis of my fate, ‘may I not, Manon, all-powerful Manon, you who
wield at your pleasure my joys and sorrows, may I not be permitted,
after having conciliated you by my submission and all the signs of
repentance, to speak to you now of my misery and distress? May I now
learn from your own lips what my destiny is to be, and whether you are
resolved to sign my death-warrant, by spending even a single night with
my rival?’
"She considered a moment before she replied. ‘My good chevalier,’
said she, resuming the most tranquil tone, ‘if you had only at first
explained yourself thus distinctly, you would have spared yourself a
world of trouble, and prevented a scene that has really annoyed me.
Since your distress is the result of jealousy, I could at first have
cured that by offering to accompany you where you pleased. But I
imagined it was caused by the letter which I was obliged to write in the
presence of G---- M----, and of the girl whom we sent with it. I thought
you might have construed that letter into a mockery; and have fancied
that, by sending such a messenger, I meant to announce my abandonment of
you for the sake of G---- M----. It was this idea that at once
overwhelmed me with grief; for, innocent as I knew myself to be, I could
not but allow that appearances were against me. However,’ continued she,
‘I will leave you to judge of my conduct, after I shall have explained
the whole truth.’
"She then told me all that had occurred to her after joining G----
M----, whom she found punctually awaiting her arrival. He had in fact
received her in the most princely style. He showed her through all the
apartments, which were fitted up in the neatest and most correct taste.
He had counted out to her in her boudoir ten thousand francs, as well as
a quantity of jewels, amongst which were the identical pearl necklace
and bracelets which she had once before received as a present from his
father. He then led her into a splendid room, which she had not before
seen, and in which an exquisite collation was served; she was waited
upon by the new servants, whom he had hired purposely for her, and whom
he now desired to consider themselves as exclusively her attendants; the
carriage and the horses were afterwards paraded, and he then proposed a
game of cards, until supper should be announced.
"‘I acknowledge,’ continued Manon, ‘that I was dazzled by all this
magnificence. It struck me that it would be madness to sacrifice at once
so many good things for the mere sake of carrying off the money and the
jewels already in my possession; that it was a certain fortune made for
both you and me, and that we might pass the remainder of our lives most
agreeably and comfortably at the expense of G---- M----.
"‘Instead of proposing the theatre, I thought it more prudent to
sound his feelings with regard to you, in order to ascertain what
facilities we should have for meeting in future, on the supposition that
I could carry my project into effect. I found him of a most tractable
disposition. He asked me how I felt towards you, and if I had not
experienced some compunction at quitting you. I told him that you were
so truly amiable, and had ever treated me with such undeviating
kindness, that it was impossible I could hate you. He admitted that you
were a man of merit, and expressed an ardent desire to gain your
friendship.
"‘He was anxious to know how I thought you would take my elopement,
particularly when you should learn that I was in his hands. I answered,
that our love was of such long standing as to have had time to moderate
a little; that, besides, you were not in very easy circumstances, and
would probably not consider my departure as any severe misfortune,
inasmuch as it would relieve you from a burden of no very insignificant
nature. I added that, being perfectly convinced you would take the whole
matter rationally, I had not hesitated to tell you that I had some
business in Paris; but you had at once consented, and that having
accompanied me yourself, you did not seem very uneasy when we separated.
"‘If I thought,’ said he to me, ’that he could bring himself to live
on good terms with me, I should be too happy to make him a tender of my
services and attentions.’ I assured him that, from what I knew of your
disposition, I had no doubt you would acknowledge his kindness in a
congenial spirit: especially, I added, if he could assist you in your
affairs, which had become embarrassed since your disagreement with your
family. He interrupted me by declaring, that he would gladly render you
any service in his power, and that if you were disposed to form a new
attachment, he would introduce you to an extremely pretty woman, whom he
had just given up for me.
"‘I approved of all he said,’ she added, ‘for fear of exciting any
suspicions; and being more and more satisfied of the feasibility of my
scheme, I only longed for an opportunity of letting you into it, lest
you should be alarmed at my not keeping my appointment. With this view I
suggested the idea of sending this young lady to you, in order to have
an opportunity of writing; I was obliged to have recourse to this plan,
because I could not see a chance of his leaving me to myself for a
moment.’
"‘He was greatly amused with my proposition; he called his valet, and
asking him whether he could immediately find his late mistress, he
dispatched him at once in search of her. He imagined that she would have
to go to Chaillot to meet you, but I told him that, when we parted, I
promised to meet you again at the theatre, or that, if anything should
prevent me from going there, you were to wait for me in a coach at the,
end of the street of St. Andre; that consequently it would be best to
send your new love there, if it were only to save you from the misery of
suspense during the whole night. I said it would be also necessary to
write you a line of explanation, without which you would probably be
puzzled by the whole transaction. He consented; but I was obliged to
write in his presence; and I took especial care not to explain matters
too palpably in my letter.
"‘This is the history,’ said Manon, ‘of the entire affair. I conceal
nothing from you, of either my conduct or my intentions. The girl
arrived; I thought her handsome; and as I doubted not that you would be
mortified by my absence, I did most sincerely hope that she would be
able to dissipate something of your ennui: for it is the fidelity of the
heart alone that I value. I should have been too delighted to have sent
Marcel, but I could not for a single instant find an opportunity of
telling him what I wished to communicate to you.’ She finished her story
by describing the embarrassment into which M. de T----’s letter had
thrown G---- M----; ‘he hesitated,’ said she, ‘about leaving, and
assured me that he should not be long absent; and it is on this account
that I am uneasy at seeing you here, and that I betrayed, at your
appearance, some slight feeling of surprise.’
"I listened to her with great patience. There were certainly parts of
her recital sufficiently cruel and mortifying; for the intention, at
least, of the infidelity was so obvious, that she had not even taken the
trouble to disguise it. She could never have imagined that G---- M----
meant to venerate her as a vestal. She must therefore clearly have made
up her mind to pass at least one night with him. What an avowal for a
lover’s ears! However, I considered myself as partly the cause of her
guilt, by having been the first to let her know G---- M----’s sentiments
towards her, and by the silly readiness with which I entered into this
rash project. Besides, by a natural bent of my mind, peculiar I believe
to myself, I was duped by the ingenuousness of her story--by that open
and winning manner with which she related even the circumstances most
calculated to annoy me. ‘There is nothing of wanton vice,’ said I to
myself, ‘in her transgressions; she is volatile and imprudent, but she
is sincere and affectionate.’ My love alone rendered me blind to all her
faults. I was enchanted at the prospect of rescuing her that very night
from my rival. I said to her: ‘With whom do you mean to pass the night?’
She was evidently disconcerted by the question, and answered me in an
embarrassed manner with BUTS and IFS.
"I felt for her, and interrupted her by saying that I at once
expected her to accompany me.
"‘Nothing can give me more pleasure,’ said she; ‘but you don’t
approve then of my project?’
"‘Is it not enough,’ replied I, ‘that I approve of all that you have,
up to this moment, done?’
"‘What,’ said she, ‘are we not even to take the ten thousand francs
with us? Why, he gave me the money; it is mine.’
"I advised her to leave everything, and let us think only of escaping
for although I had been hardly half an hour with her, I began to dread
the return of G---- M----. However, she so earnestly urged me to consent
to our going out with something in our pockets, that I thought myself
bound to make her, on my part, some concession, in return for all she
yielded to me.
"While we were getting ready for our departure, I heard someone knock
at the street door. I felt convinced that it must be G---- M----; and in
the heat of the moment, I told Manon, that as sure as he appeared I
would take his life. In truth, I felt that I was not sufficiently
recovered from my late excitement to be able to restrain my fury if I
met him. Marcel put an end to my uneasiness, by handing me a letter
which he had received for me at the door; it was from M. de T----.
"He told me that, as G---- M---- had gone to his father’s house for
the money which he wanted, he had taken advantage of his absence to
communicate to me an amusing idea that had just come into his head; that
it appeared to him, I could not possibly take a more agreeable revenge
upon my rival, than by eating his supper, and spending the night in the
very bed which he had hoped to share with my mistress; all this seemed
to him easy enough, if I could only find two or three men upon whom I
could depend, of courage sufficient to stop him in the street, and
detain him in custody until next morning; that he would undertake to
keep him occupied for another hour at least, under some pretext, which
he could devise before G---- M----’s return.
"I showed the note to Manon; I told her at the same time of the
manner in which I had procured the interview with her. My scheme, as
well as the new one of M. de T----’s, delighted her: we laughed heartily
at it for some minutes; but when I treated it as a mere joke, I was
surprised at her insisting seriously upon it, as a thing perfectly
practicable, and too delightful to be neglected. In vain I enquired
where she thought I could possibly find, on a sudden, men fit for such
an adventure? and on whom I could rely for keeping G---- M---- in strict
custody? She said that I should at least try, as M. de T---- ensured us
yet a full hour; and as to my other objections, she said that I was
playing the tyrant, and did not show the slightest indulgence to her
fancies. She said that it was impossible there could be a more
enchanting project. ‘You will have his place at supper; you will sleep
in his bed; and tomorrow, as early as you like, you can walk off with
both his mistress and his money. You may thus, at one blow, be amply
revenged upon father and son.’
"I yielded to her entreaties, in spite of the secret misgivings of my
own mind, which seemed to forebode the unhappy catastrophe that
afterwards befell me. I went out with the intention of asking two or
three guardsmen, with whom Lescaut had made me acquainted, to undertake
the arrest of G---- M----. I found only one of them at home, but he was
a fellow ripe for any adventure; and he no sooner heard our plan, than
he assured me of certain success: all he required were six pistoles, to
reward the three private soldiers whom he determined to employ in the
business. I begged of him to lose no time. He got them together in less
than a quarter of in hour. I waited at his lodgings till he returned
with them, and then conducted him to the corner of a street through
which I knew G---- M---- must pass an going back to Manon’s house. I
requested him not to treat G---- M---- roughly, but to keep him
confined, and so strictly watched, until seven o’clock next morning,
that I might be free from all apprehension of his escape. He told me his
intention was to bring him a prisoner to his own room, and make him
undress and sleep in his bed, while he and his gallant comrades should
spend the night in drinking and playing.
"I remained with them until we saw G---- M---- returning homewards;
and I then withdrew a few steps into a dark recess in the street, to
enjoy so entertaining and extraordinary a scene. The officer challenged
him with a pistol to his breast, and then told him, in a civil tone,
that he did not want either his money or his life; but that if he
hesitated to follow him, or if he gave the slightest alarm, he would
blow his brains out. G---- M----, seeing that his assailant was
supported by three soldiers, and perhaps not uninfluenced by a dread of
the pistol, yielded without further resistance. I saw him led away like
a lamb.
|
CHAPTER X
I soon returned to Manon; and to prevent the servants from having any
suspicion, I told her in their hearing, that she need not expect M.
G---- M---- to supper; that he was most reluctantly occupied with
business which detained him, and that he had commissioned me to come and
make his excuses, and to fill his place at the supper table; which, in
the company of so beautiful a lady, I could not but consider a very high
honour. She seconded me with her usual adroitness. We sat down to
supper. I put on the most serious air I could assume, while the servants
were in the room, and at length having got rid of them, we passed,
beyond all comparison, the most agreeable evening of my life. I gave
Marcel orders to find a hackney-coach, and engage it to be at the gate
on the following morning a little before six o’clock. I pretended to
take leave of Manon about midnight, but easily gaining admission again,
through Marcel, I proceeded to occupy G---- M----’s bed, as I had filled
his place at the supper table.
"In the meantime our evil genius was at work for our destruction. We
were like children enjoying the success of our silly scheme, while the
sword hung suspended over our heads. The thread which upheld it was just
about to break; but the better to understand all the circumstances of
our ruin, it is necessary to know the immediate cause.
"G---- M---- was followed by a servant, when he was stopped by my
friend the guardsman. Alarmed by what he saw, this fellow retraced his
steps, and the first thing he did was to go and inform old G---- M----
of what had just happened.
"Such a piece of news, of course, excited him greatly. This was his
only son; and considering the old gentleman’s advanced age, he was
extremely active and ardent. He first enquired of the servant what his
son had been doing that afternoon; whether he had had any quarrel on his
own account, or interfered in any other; whether he had been in any
suspicious house. The lackey, who fancied his master in imminent danger,
and thought he ought not to have any reserve in such an emergency,
disclosed at once all that he knew of his connection with Manon, and of
the expense he had gone to on her account; the manner in which he had
passed the afternoon with her until about nine o’clock, the circumstance
of his leaving her, and the outrage he encountered on his return. This
was enough to convince him that his son’s affair was a love quarrel.
Although it was then at least half-past ten at night, he determined at
once to call on the lieutenant of police. He begged of him to issue
immediate orders to all the detachments that were out on duty, and he
himself, taking some men with him, hastened to the street where his son
had been stopped: he visited every place where he thought he might have
a chance of finding him; and not being able to discover the slightest
trace of him, he went off to the house of his mistress, to which he
thought he probably might by this time have returned.
"I was stepping into bed when he arrived. The door of the chamber
being closed, I did not hear the knock at the gate, but he rushed into
the house, accompanied by two archers of the guard, and after fruitless
enquiries of the servants about his son, he resolved to try whether he
could get any information from their mistress. He came up to the
apartment, still accompanied by the guard. We were just on the point of
lying down when he burst open the door, and electrified us by his
appearance. ‘Heavens!’ said I to Manon, ‘it is old G---- M----.’ I
attempted to get possession of my sword; but it was fortunately
entangled in my belt. The archers, who saw my object, advanced to lay
hold of me. Stript to my shirt, I could, of course, offer no resistance,
and they speedily deprived me of all means of defence.
"G---- M----, although a good deal embarrassed by the whole scene,
soon recognised me; and Manon still more easily. ‘Is this a dream?’ said
he, in the most serious tone--‘do I not see before me the Chevalier des
Grieux and Manon Lescaut?’ I was so overcome with shame and
disappointment, that I could make him no reply. He appeared for some
minutes revolving different thoughts in his mind; and as if they had
suddenly excited his anger, he exclaimed, addressing himself to me:
‘Wretch! I am confident that you have murdered my son!’
"I felt indignant at so insulting a charge. ‘You hoary and lecherous
villain!’ I exclaimed, ‘if I had been inclined to kill any of your
worthless family, it is with you I should most assuredly have
commenced.’
"‘Hold him fast,’ cried he to the archers; ‘he must give me some
tidings of my son; I shall have him hanged tomorrow, if he does not
presently let me know how he has disposed of him.’
"‘You will have me hanged,’ said I, ‘will you? Infamous scoundre! it
is for such as you that the gibbet is erected. Know that the blood which
flows in my veins is noble, and purer in every sense than yours. Yes,’ I
added, ‘I do know what has happened to your son; and if you irritate me
further, I will have him strangled before morning; and I promise you the
consolation of meeting in your own person the same fate, after he is
disposed of.’
"I was imprudent in acknowledging that I knew where his son was, but
excess of anger made me commit this indiscretion. He immediately called
in five or six other archers, who were waiting at the gate, and ordered
them to take all the servants into custody. ‘Ah! ah! Chevalier,’ said
he, in a tone of sardonic raillery,--‘so you do know where my son is,
and you will have him strangled, you say? We will try to set that matter
to rights.’
"I now saw the folly I had committed.
"He approached Manon, who was sitting upon the bed, bathed in a flood
of tears. He said something, with the most cruel irony, of the despotic
power she wielded over old and young, father and son-- her edifying
dominion over her empire. This superannuated monster of incontinence
actually attempted to take liberties with her.
"‘Take care,’ exclaimed I, ‘how you lay a finger upon her!-- neither
divine nor human law will be able, should your folly arouse it, to
shield you from my vengeance!’
"He quitted the room, desiring the archers to make us dress as
quickly as possible.
"I know not what were his intentions at that moment with regard to
us; we might perhaps have regained our liberty if we had told him where
his son was. As I dressed, I considered whether this would not be the
wisest course. But if, on quitting the room, such had been the
disposition of his mind, it was very different when he returned. He had
first gone to question Manon’s servants, who were in the custody of the
guard. From those who had been expressly hired for her service by his
son, he could learn nothing; but when he found that Marcel had been
previously our servant, he determined to extract some information from
him, by means of intimidation, threats, or bribes.
"This lad was faithful, but weak and unsophisticated. The remembrance
of what he had done at the penitentiary for Manon’s release, joined to
the terror with which G---- M---- now inspired him, so subdued his mind,
that he thought they were about leading him to the gallows, or the rack.
He promised that, if they would spare his life, he would disclose
everything he knew. This speech made G---- M---- imagine that there was
something more serious in the affair than he had before supposed; he not
only gave Marcel a promise of his life, but a handsome reward in hand
for his intended confession.
"The booby then told him the leading features of our plot, of which
we had made no secret before him, as he was himself to have borne a part
in it. True, he knew nothing of the alterations we had made at Paris in
our original design; but he had been informed, before quitting Chaillot,
of our projected adventure, and of the part he was to perform. He
therefore told him that the object was to make a dupe of his son; and
that Manon was to receive, if she had not already received, ten thousand
francs, which, according to our project, would be effectually lost to
G---- M----, his heirs and assigns for ever.
"Having acquired this information, the old gentleman hastened back in
a rage to the apartment. Without uttering a word, he passed into the
boudoir, where he easily put his hand upon the money and the jewels. He
then accosted us, bursting with rage; and holding up what he was pleased
to call our plunder, he loaded us with the most indignant reproaches. He
placed close to Manon’s eye the pearl necklace and bracelets. ‘Do you
recognise them?’ said he, in a tone of mockery; ’it is not, perhaps, the
first time you may have seen them. The identical pearls, by my faith!
They were selected by your own exquisite taste! The poor innocents!’
added he; ‘they really are most amiable creatures, both one and the
other; but they are perhaps a little too much inclined to roguery.’
"I could hardly contain my indignation at this speech. I would have
given for one moment’s liberty--Heavens! what would I not have given? At
length, I suppressed my feelings sufficiently to say in a tone of
moderation, which was but the refinement of rage: ‘Put an end, sir, to
this insolent mockery! What is your object? What do you purpose doing
with us?’
"‘M. Chevalier,’ he answered, ‘my object is to see you quietly lodged
in the prison of Le Chatelet. Tomorrow will bring daylight with it, and
we shall then be able to take a clearer view of matters; and I hope you
will at last do me the favour to let me know where my son is.’
"It did not require much consideration to feel convinced that our
incarceration in Le Chatelet would be a serious calamity. I foresaw all
the dangers that would ensue. In spite of my pride, I plainly saw the
necessity of bending before my fate, and conciliating my most implacable
enemy by submission. I begged of him, in the quietest manner, to listen
to me. ‘I wish to do myself but common justice, sir,’ said I to him; ‘I
admit that my youth has led me into egregious follies; and that you have
had fair reason to complain: but if you have ever felt the resistless
power of love, if you can enter into the sufferings of an unhappy young
man, from whom all that he most loved was ravished, you may think me
perhaps not so culpable in seeking the gratification of an innocent
revenge; or at least, you may consider me sufficiently punished, by the
exposure and degradation I have just now endured. Neither pains nor
imprisonment will be requisite to make me tell you where your son now
is. He is in perfect safety. It was never my intention to injure him,
nor to give you just cause for offence. I am ready to let you know the
place where he is safely passing the night, if, in return, you will set
us at liberty.’
"The old tiger, far from being softened by my prayer, turned his back
upon me and laughed. A few words, escaped him, which showed that he
perfectly well knew our whole plan from the commencement. As for his
son, the brute said that he would easily find him, since I had not
assassinated him. ‘Conduct them to the Petit-Chatelet,’ said he to the
archers; ‘and take especial care that the chevalier does not escape you:
he is a scamp that once before escaped from St. Lazare.’
"He went out, and left me in a condition that you may picture to
yourself. ‘O Heavens!’ cried I to myself, ‘I receive with humble
submission all your visitations; but that a wretched scoundrel should
thus have the power to tyrannise over me! this it is that plunges me
into the depths of despair!’ The archers begged that we would not detain
them any longer. They had a coach at the door. ‘Come, my dear angel,’
said I to Manon, as we went down, ‘come, let us submit to our destiny in
all its rigour: it may one day please Heaven to render us more happy.’
"We went in the same coach. I supported her in my arms. I had not
heard her utter a single word since G---- M----’s first appearance: but
now, finding herself alone with me, she addressed me in the tenderest
manner, and accused herself of being the cause of all my troubles. I
assured her that I never could complain, while she continued to love me.
‘It is not I that have reason to complain,’ I added; ‘imprisonment for a
few months has no terrors for me, and I would infinitely prefer Le
Chatelet to St. Lazare; but it is for you, my dearest soul, that my
heart bleeds. What a lot for such an angel! How can you, gracious
Heaven! subject to such rigour the most perfect work of your own hands?
Why are we not both of us born with qualities conformable to our
wretched condition? We are endowed with spirit, with taste, with
feeling; while the vilest of God’s creatures--brutes, alone worthy of
our unhappy fate, are revelling in all the favours of fortune.’
"These feelings filled me with grief; but it was bliss compared with
my prospects for the future. My fear, on account of Manon, knew no
bounds. She had already been an inmate of the Magdalen; and even if she
had left it by fair means, I knew that a relapse of this nature would be
attended with disastrous consequences. I wished to let her know my
fears: I was apprehensive of exciting hers. I trembled for her, without
daring to put her on her guard against the danger; and I embraced her
tenderly, to satisfy her, at least, of my love, which was almost the
only sentiment to which I dared to give expression. ‘Manon,’ said I,
‘tell me sincerely, will you ever cease to love me?’
"She answered, that it made her unhappy to think that I could doubt
it.
"‘Very well,’ replied I, ‘I do so no longer; and with this
conviction, I may well defy all my enemies. Through the influence of my
family, I can ensure my own liberation from the Chatelet; and my life
will be of little use, and of short duration, if I do not succeed in
rescuing you.’
"We arrived at the prison, where they put us into separate cells.
This blow was the less severe, because I was prepared for it. I
recommended Manon to the attention of the porter, telling him that I was
a person of some distinction, and promising him a considerable
recompense. I embraced my dearest mistress before we parted; I implored
her not to distress herself too much, and to fear nothing while I lived.
I had money with me: I gave her some; and I paid the porter, out of what
remained, the amount of a month’s expenses for both of us in, advance.
This had an excellent effect, for I found myself placed in an apartment
comfortably furnished, and they assured me that Manon was in one equally
good.
"I immediately set about devising the means of procuring my liberty.
There certainly had been nothing actually criminal in my conduct; and
supposing even that our felonious intention was established by the
evidence of Marcel, I knew that criminal intentions alone were not
punishable. I resolved to write immediately to my father, and beg of him
to come himself to Paris. I felt much less humiliation, as I have
already said, in being in Le Chatelet than in St. Lazare. Besides,
although I preserved, all proper respect for the paternal authority, age
and experience had considerably lessened my timidity. I wrote, and they
made no difficulty in the prison about forwarding my letter; but it was
a trouble I should have spared myself, had I known that my father was
about to arrive on the following day in Paris. He had received the
letter I had written to him a week before; it gave him extreme delight;
but, notwithstanding the flattering hopes I had held out of my
conversion, he could not implicitly rely on my statements. He determined
therefore to satisfy himself of my reformation by the evidence of his
own senses, and to regulate his conduct towards me according to his
conviction of my sincerity. He arrived the day after my imprisonment.
"His first visit was to Tiberge, to whose care I begged that he would
address his answer. He could not learn from him either my present abode
or condition: Tiberge merely told him of my principal adventures since I
had escaped from St. Lazare. Tiberge spoke warmly of the disposition to
virtue which I had evinced at our last interview. He added, that he
considered me as having quite got rid of Manon; but that he was
nevertheless surprised at my not having given him any intelligence about
myself for a week. My father was not to be duped. He fully comprehended
that there was something in the silence of which Tiberge complained,
which had escaped my poor friend’s penetration; and he took such pains
to find me out, that in two days after his arrival he learned that I was
in Le Chatelet.
"Before I received this visit, which I little expected so soon, I had
the honour of one from the lieutenant-general of police, or, to call
things by their right names, I was subjected to an official examination.
He upbraided me certainly, but not in any harsh or annoying manner. He
told me, in the kindest tone, that he bitterly lamented my bad conduct;
that I had committed a gross indiscretion in making an enemy of such a
man as M. G---- M----; that in truth it was easy to see that there was,
in the affair, more of imprudence and folly than of malice; but that
still it was the second time I had been brought as a culprit under his
cognisance; and that he had hoped I should have become more sedate,
after the experience of two or three months in St. Lazare.
"Delighted at finding that I had a rational judge to deal with, I
explained the affair to him in a manner at once so respectful and so
moderate, that he seemed exceedingly satisfied with my answers to all
the queries he put. He desired me not to abandon myself to grief, and
assured me that he felt every disposition to serve me, as well on
account of my birth as my inexperience. I ventured to bespeak his
attentions in favour of Manon, and I dwelt upon her gentle and excellent
disposition. He replied, with a smile, that he had not yet seen her, but
that she had been represented to him as a most dangerous person. This
expression so excited my sympathy, that I urged a thousand anxious
arguments in favour of my poor mistress, and I could not restrain even
from shedding tears.
He desired them to conduct me back to my chamber. ‘Love! love!’ cried
this grave magistrate as I went out, ‘thou art never to be reconciled
with discretion!’
"I had been occupied with the most melancholy reflections, and was
thinking of the conversation I had had with the lieutenant-general of
police, when I heard my door open. It was my father. Although I ought to
have been half prepared for seeing him, and had reasons to expect his
arrival within a day or two, yet I was so thunderstruck, that I could
willingly have sunk into the earth, if it had been open at my feet. I
embraced him in the greatest possible state of confusion. He took a
seat, without either one or other of us having uttered a word.
"As I remained standing, with my head uncovered, and my eyes cast on
the ground, ‘Be seated, sir,’ said he in a solemn voice; ‘be seated. I
have to thank the notoriety of your debaucheries for learning the place
of your abode. It is the privilege of such fame as yours, that it cannot
lie concealed. You are acquiring celebrity by an unerring path.
Doubtless it will lead you to the Greve, and you will then have the
unfading glory of being held up to the admiration of the world.’
Who has e’er been at Paris must needs know the Greve, The fatal
retreat of th’ unfortunate brave, Where honour and justice most oddly
contribute, To ease heroes’ pains by the halter and gibbet.--PRIOR.
"I made no reply. He continued: ‘What an unhappy lot is that of a
father, who having tenderly loved a child, and strained every nerve to
bring him up a virtuous and respectable man, finds him turn out in the
end a worthless profligate, who dishonours him. To an ordinary reverse
of fortune one may be reconciled; time softens the affliction, and even
the indulgence of sorrow itself is not unavailing; but what remedy is
there for an evil that is perpetually augmenting, such as the profligacy
of a vicious son, who has deserted every principle of honour, and is
ever plunging from deep into deeper vice? You are silent,’ added he:
‘look at this counterfeit modesty, this hypocritical air of
gentleness!-- might he not pass for the most respectable member of his
family?’
"Although I could not but feel that I deserved, in some degree, these
reproaches, yet he appeared to me to carry them beyond all reason. I
thought I might be permitted to explain my feelings.
"‘I assure you, sir,’ said I to him, ‘that the modesty which you
ridicule is by no means affected; it is the natural feeling of a son who
entertains sincere respect for his father, and above all, a father
irritated as you justly are by his faults. Neither have I, sir, the
slightest wish to pass for the most respectable member of my family. I
know that I have merited your reproaches, but I conjure you to temper
them with mercy, and not to look upon me as the most infamous of
mankind. I do not deserve such harsh names. It is love, you know it,
that has caused all my errors. Fatal passion! Have you yourself never
felt its force? Is it possible that you, with the same blood in your
veins that flows in mine, should have passed through life unscathed by
the same excitements? Love has rendered me perhaps foolishly tender--too
easily excited-- too impassioned--too faithful, and probably too
indulgent to the desires and caprices, or, if you will, the faults of an
adored mistress. These are my crimes; are they such as to reflect
dishonour upon you? Come, my dear father,’ said I tenderly, ‘show some
pity for a son, who has never ceased to feel respect and affection for
you--who has not renounced, as you say, all feelings of honour and of
duty, and who is himself a thousand times more an object of pity than
you imagine.’ I could not help shedding a tear as I concluded this
appeal.
"A father’s heart is a chef-d’oeuvre of creation. There nature rules
in undisturbed dominion, and regulates at will its most secret springs.
He was a man of high feeling and good taste, and was so sensibly
affected by the turn I had given to my defence, that he could no longer
hide from me the change I had wrought.
"‘Come to me, my poor chevalier,’ said he; ‘come and embrace me. I do
pity you!’
"I embraced him: he pressed me to him in such a manner, that I
guessed what was passing in his heart.
"‘But how are we,’ said he, ‘to extricate you from this place?
Explain to me the real situation of your affairs.’
"As there really was not anything in my conduct so grossly improper
as to reflect dishonour upon me; at least, in comparison with the
conduct of other young men of a certain station in the world; and as a
mistress is not considered a disgrace, any more than a little dexterity
in drawing some advantage from play, I gave my father a candid detail of
the life I had been leading. As I recounted each transgression, I took
care to cite some illustrious example in my justification, in order to
palliate my own faults.
"‘I lived,’ said I, ‘with a mistress without the solemnity of
marriage. The Duke of ---- keeps two before the eyes of all Paris. M----
D---- has had one now for ten years, and loves her with a fidelity which
he has never shown to his wife. Two-thirds of the men of fashion in
Paris keep mistresses.
"‘I certainly have on one or two occasions cheated at play. Well, the
Marquis of ---- and the Count ---- have no other source of revenue. The
Prince of ---- and the Duke of ---- are at the head of a gang of the
same industrious order.’ As for the designs I had upon the pockets of
the two G---- M----s, I might just as easily have proved that I had
abundant models for that also; but I had too much pride to plead guilty
to this charge, and rest on the justification of example; so that I
begged of my father to ascribe my weakness on this occasion to the
violence of the two passions which agitated me--Revenge and Love.
"He asked me whether I could suggest any means of obtaining my
liberty, and in such a way as to avoid publicity as much as possible. I
told him of the kind feelings which the lieutenant- general of police
had expressed towards me. ‘If you encounter any obstacles,’ said I,
‘they will be offered only by the two G---- M----s; so that I think it
would be advisable to call upon them.’
He promised to do so.
"I did not dare ask him to solicit Manon’s liberation; this was not
from want of courage, but from the apprehension of exasperating him by
such a proposition, and perhaps driving him to form some design fatal to
the future happiness of us both. It remains to this hour a problem
whether this fear on my part was not the immediate cause of all my most
terrible misfortunes, by preventing me from ascertaining my father’s
disposition, and endeavouring to inspire him with favourable feelings
towards my poor mistress: I might have perhaps once more succeeded in
exciting his commiseration; I might have put him on his guard against
the impression which he was sure of receiving from a visit to old G----
M----. But how can I tell what the consequences would have been! My
unhappy fate would have most probably counteracted all my efforts; but
it would have been a consolation to have had nothing else but that, and
the cruelty of my enemies, to blame for my afflictions.
"On quitting me, my father went to pay a visit to M. G---- M----. He
found him with his son, whom the guardsman had safely restored to
liberty. I never learned the particulars of their conversation; but I
could easily infer them from the disastrous results. They went together
(the two old gentlemen) to the lieutenant-general of police, from whom
they requested one favour each: the first was to have me at once
liberated from Le Chatelet; the second to condemn Manon to perpetual
imprisonment, or to transport her for life to America. They happened, at
that very period, to be sending out a number of convicts to the
Mississippi. The lieutenant-general promised to have her embarked on
board the first vessel that sailed.
"M. G---- M---- and my father came together to bring me the news of
my liberation. M. G---- M---- said something civil with reference to
what had passed; and having congratulated me upon my happiness in having
such a father, he exhorted me to profit henceforward by his instruction
and example. My father desired me to express my sorrow for the injustice
I had even contemplated against his family, and my gratitude for his
having assisted in procuring my liberation.
"We all left the prison together, without the mention of Manon’s
name. I dared not in their presence speak of her to the turnkeys. Alas!
all my entreaties in her favour would have been useless. The cruel
sentence upon Manon had arrived at the same time as the warrant for my
discharge. The unfortunate girl was conducted in an hour after to the
Hospital, to be there classed with some other wretched women, who had
been condemned to the same punishment.
"My father having forced me to accompany him to the house where he
was residing, it was near six o’clock before I had an opportunity of
escaping his vigilance. In returning to Le Chatelet, my only wish was to
convey some refreshments to Manon, and to recommend her to the attention
of the porter; for I had no hope of being permitted to see her; nor had
I, as yet, had time to reflect on the best means of rescuing her.
"I asked for the porter. I had won his heart, as much by my
liberality to him, as by the mildness of my manner; so that, having a
disposition to serve me, he spoke of Manon’s sentence as a calamity
which he sincerely regretted, since it was calculated to mortify me. I
was at first unable to comprehend his meaning. We conversed for some
minutes without my understanding him. At length perceiving that an
explanation was necessary, he gave me such a one, as on a former
occasion I wanted courage to relate to you, and which, even now, makes
my blood curdle in my veins to remember.
|
CHAPTER XI
"Never did apoplexy produce on mortal a more sudden or terrific effect
than did the announcement of Manon’s sentence upon me. I fell prostrate,
with so intense a palpitation of the heart, that as I swooned I thought
that death itself was come upon me. This idea continued even after I had
been restored to my senses. I gazed around me upon every part of the
room, then upon my own paralysed limbs, doubting, in my delirium,
whether I still bore about me the attributes of a living man. It is
quite certain that, in obedience to the desire I felt of terminating my
sufferings, even by my own hand, nothing could have been to me more
welcome than death at that moment of anguish and despair. Religion
itself could depict nothing more insupportable after death than the
racking agony with which I was then convulsed. Yet, by a miracle, only
within the power of omnipotent love, I soon regained strength enough to
express my gratitude to Heaven for restoring me to sense and reason. My
death could have only been a relief and blessing to myself; whereas
Manon had occasion for my prolonged existence, in order to deliver
her--to succour her--to avenge her wrongs: I swore to devote that
existence unremittingly to these objects.
"The porter gave me every assistance that I could have expected at
the hands of my oldest friend: I accepted his services with the
liveliest gratitude. ‘Alas!’ said I to him, ‘you then are affected by my
sufferings! The whole world abandons me; my own father proves one of the
very cruellest of my persecutors; no person feels pity for me! You
alone, in this abode of suffering and shame--you alone exhibit
compassion for the most wretched of mankind!’ He advised me not to
appear in the street until I had recovered a little from my affliction.
‘Do not stop me,’ said I, as I went out; ‘we shall meet again sooner
than you imagine: get ready your darkest dungeon, for I shall shortly
become its tenant.’
"In fact, my first idea was nothing less than to make away with the
two G---- M----s, and the lieutenant-general of police; and then to
attack the Hospital, sword in hand, assisted by all whom I could enlist
in my cause. Even my father’s life was hardly respected, so just
appeared my feelings of vengeance; for the porter had informed me that
he and G---- M---- were jointly the authors of my ruin.
"But when I had advanced some paces into the street, and the fresh
air had cooled my excitement, I gradually viewed matters in a more
rational mood. The death of our enemies could be of little use to Manon;
and the obvious effect of such violence would be to deprive me of all
other chance of serving her. Besides, could I ever bring myself to be a
cowardly assassin? By what other means could I accomplish my revenge? I
set all my ingenuity and all my efforts at work to procure the
deliverance of Manon, leaving everything else to be considered hereafter
when I had succeeded in this first and paramount object.
"I had very little money left; money, however, was an indispensable
basis for all my operations. I only knew three persons from whom I had
any right to ask pecuniary assistance--M. de T----, Tiberge, and my
father. There appeared little chance of obtaining any from the two
latter, and I was really ashamed again to importune M. de T----. But it
is not in desperate emergencies that one stands upon points of ceremony.
I went first to the seminary of St. Sulpice, without considering whether
I should be recognised. I asked for Tiberge. His first words showed me
that he knew nothing of my latest adventure: this made me change the
design I had originally formed of appealing at once to his compassion. I
spoke generally of the pleasure it had given me to see my father again;
and I then begged of him to lend me some money, under the pretext of
being anxious before I left Paris to pay a few little debts, which I
wished to keep secret. He handed me his purse, without a single remark.
I took twenty or twenty-five pounds, which it contained. I offered him
my note of hand, but he was too generous to accept it.
"I then went to M. de T----: I had no reserve with him. I plainly
told him my misfortunes and distress: he already knew everything, and
had informed himself even of the most trifling circumstance, on account
of the interest he naturally took in young G---- M----’s adventure. He,
however, listened to me, and seemed sincerely to lament what had
occurred. When I consulted him as to the best means of rescuing Manon,
he answered that he saw such little ground for hope, that, without some
extraordinary interposition of Providence, it would be folly to expect
relief; that he had paid a visit expressly to the Hospital since Manon
had been transferred from the Chatelet, but that he could not even
obtain permission to see her, as the lieutenant-general of police had
given the strictest orders to the contrary; and that, to complete the
catastrophe, the unfortunate train of convicts, in which she was to be
included, was to take its departure from Paris the day but one after.
"I was so confounded by what he said, that if he had gone on speaking
for another hour, I should not have interrupted him. He continued to
tell me, that the reason of his not calling to see me at the Chatelet
was, that he hoped to be of more use by appearing to be unknown to me;
that for the last few hours, since I had been set at liberty, he had in
vain looked for me, in order to suggest the only plan through which he
could see a hope of averting Manon’s fate. He told me it was dangerous
counsel to give, and implored me never to mention the part he took in
it; it was to find some enterprising fellows gallant enough to attack
Manon’s guard on getting outside the barriere. Nor did he wait for me to
urge a plea of poverty. ‘Here is fifty pounds,’ he said, presenting me
his purse; ‘it may be of use to you; you can repay me when you are in
better circumstances.’ He added, that if the fear of losing his
character did not prevent him from embarking in such an enterprise, he
would have willingly put his sword and his life at my service.
"This unlooked-for generosity affected me to tears. I expressed my
gratitude with as much warmth as my depressed spirits left at my
command. I asked him if there were nothing to be expected from
interceding with the lieutenant-general of police: he said that he had
considered that point; but that he looked upon it as a hopeless attempt,
because a favour of that nature was never accorded without some strong
motive, and he did not see what inducement could be held out for
engaging the intercession of any person of power on her behalf; that if
any hope could possibly be entertained upon the point, it must be by
working a change in the feelings of old G---- M---- and my father, and
by prevailing on them to solicit from the lieutenant-general of police
the revocation of Manon’s sentence. He offered to do everything in his
power to gain over the younger G---- M----, although he fancied a
coldness in that gentleman’s manner towards him, probably from some
suspicions he might entertain of his being concerned in the late affair;
and he entreated me to lose no opportunity of effecting the desired
change in my father’s mind.
"This was no easy undertaking for me; not only on account of the
difficulty I should naturally meet in overcoming his opinion, but for
another reason which made me fear even to approach him; I had quitted
his lodgings contrary to his express orders, and was resolved, since I
had learned the sad fate of my poor Manon, never again to return
thither. I was not without apprehensions indeed of his now retaining me
against my will, and perhaps taking me at once back with him into the
country. My elder brother had formerly had recourse to this violent
measure. True, I was now somewhat older; but age is a feeble argument
against force. I hit upon a mode, however, of avoiding this danger,
which was to get him by contrivance to some public place, and there
announce myself to him under an assumed name: I immediately resolved on
this method. M. de T---- went to G---- M----’s, and I to the Luxembourg,
whence I sent my father word, that a gentleman waited there to speak
with him. I hardly thought he would come, as the night was advancing.
He, however, soon made his appearance, followed by a servant: I begged
of him to choose a walk where we could be alone. We walked at least a
hundred paces without speaking. He doubtless imagined that so much
precaution could not be taken without some important object. He waited
for my opening speech, and I was meditating how to commence it.
At length I began.
"‘Sir,’ said I, trembling, ‘you are a good and affectionate parent;
you have loaded me with favours, and have forgiven me an infinite number
of faults; I also, in my turn, call Heaven to witness the sincere, and
tender, and respectful sentiments I entertain towards you. But it does
seem to me, that your inexorable severity----’
"‘Well, sir, my severity!’ interrupted my father, who no doubt found
my hesitation little suited to his impatience.
"‘Ah, sir,’ I replied, ‘it does seem to me that your severity is
excessive in the penalty you inflict upon the unfortunate Manon. You
have taken only M. G---- M----’s report of her. His hatred has made him
represent her to you in the most odious colours: you have formed a
frightful idea of her. She is, on the contrary, the mildest and most
amiable of living creatures; would that Heaven had but inspired you at
any one moment with the desire of seeing her! I am convinced that you
would be not less sensible of her perfections than your unhappy son. You
would then have been her advocate; you would have abhorred the foul
artifices of G---- M----; you would have had pity on both her and me.
Alas! I am persuaded of it; your heart is not insensible; it must ere
now have melted with compassion.’
"He interrupted me again, perceiving that I spoke with a warmth which
would not allow me to finish very briefly. He begged to know with what
request I intended to wind up so fervent an harangue.
"‘To ask my life at your hands,’ said I, ‘which I never can retain if
Manon once embark for America.’
"‘No! no!’ replied he, in the severest tone; ‘I would rather see you
lifeless, than infamous and depraved.’
"‘We have gone far enough, then,’ said I, catching hold of his arm;
‘take from me, in common mercy, my life! weary and odious and
insupportable as it henceforward must be; for in the state of despair
into which you now plunge me, death would be the greatest favour you
could bestow--a favour worthy of a father’s hand.’
"‘I should only give you what you deserve,’ replied he; ‘I know
fathers who would not have shown as much patience as I have, but would
themselves have executed speedy justice; but it is my foolish and
excessive forbearance that has been your ruin.’
"I threw myself at his feet: ‘Ah!’ exclaimed I, ‘if you have still
any remains of mercy, do not harden your heart against my distress and
sorrow. Remember that I am your child! Alas! think of my poor mother!
you loved her tenderly! would you have suffered her to be torn from your
arms? You would have defended her to the death! May not the same feeling
then be pardoned in others? Can persons become barbarous and cruel,
after having themselves experienced the softening influence of
tenderness and grief?’
"‘Breathe not again the sacred name of your mother,’ he exclaimed, in
a voice of thunder; ‘the very allusion to her memory rouses my
indignation. Had she lived to witness the unredeemed profligacy of your
life, it would have brought her in pain and sorrow to her grave.--Let us
put an end to this discussion’ he added; ‘it distresses me, and makes
not the slightest change in my determination: I am going back to my
lodgings, and I desire you to follow me.’
"The cool and resolute tone in which he uttered this command,
convinced me that he was inexorable. I stepped some paces aside, for
fear he should think fit to lay hands upon me.
"‘Do not increase my misery and despair,’ said I to him, ‘by forcing
me to disobey you. It is impossible for me to follow you; and equally so
that I should continue to live, after the unkind treatment I have
experienced from you. I, therefore, bid you an eternal adieu. When you
know that I am dead, as I shall soon be, the paternal affection which
you once entertained for me may be perhaps revived.’
"As I was about to turn away from him: ‘You refuse then to follow
me,’ cried he, in a tone of excessive anger. ‘Go! go on to your ruin.
Adieu! ungrateful and disobedient boy.’
"‘Adieu!’ exclaimed I to him, in a burst of grief, ‘adieu, cruel and
unnatural father!’
"I left the Luxembourg, and rushed like a madman through the streets
to M. de T----’s house. I raised my hands and eyes as I went along,
invoking the Almighty Powers: ‘O Heaven,’ cried I, ‘will you not prove
more merciful than man! The only hope that remains to me is from above!’
"M. de T---- had not yet returned home; but he arrived before many
minutes had elapsed. His negotiation had been as unsuccessful as my own.
He told me so with the most sorrowful countenance. Young G---- M----,
although less irritated than his father against Manon and me, would not
undertake to petition in our favour. He was, in great measure, deterred
by the fear which he himself had of the vindictive old lecher, who had
already vented his anger against him for his design of forming a
connection with Manon.
"There only remained to me, therefore, the violent measures which M.
T---- had suggested. I now confined all my hopes to them. They were
questionless most uncertain; but they held out to me, at least, a
substantial consolation, in the certainty of meeting death in the
attempt, if unsuccessful. I left him, begging that he would offer up his
best wishes for my triumph; and I thought only of finding some
companions, to whom I might communicate a portion of my own courage and
determination.
"The first that occurred to me was the same guardsman whom I had
employed to arrest G---- M----. I had intended indeed to pass the night
at his rooms, not having had a moment of leisure during the afternoon to
procure myself a lodging. I found him alone. He was glad to see me out
of the Chatelet. He made me an offer of his services. I explained to him
in what way he might now do me the greatest kindness. He had good sense
enough to perceive all the difficulties; but he was also generous enough
to undertake to surmount them.
"We spent part of the night in considering how the plot was to be
executed. He spoke of the three soldiers whom he had made use of on the
last occasion, as men whose courage had been proved. M. de T---- had
told me the exact number of archers that would escort Manon; they were
but six. Five strong and determined men could not fail to strike terror
into these fellows, who would never think of defending themselves
bravely, when they were to be allowed the alternative of avoiding danger
by surrendering; and of that they would no doubt avail themselves. As I
was not without money, the guardsman advised me to spare no pains or
expense to ensure success. ‘We must be mounted,’ he said, ‘and each man
must have his carbine and pistols; I will take care to prepare
everything requisite by tomorrow. We shall also want three new suits of
regimentals for the soldiers, who dare not appear in an affray of this
kind in the uniform of their regiment. I handed him the hundred pistoles
which I had got from M. de T----; it was all expended the next morning,
to the very last sou. I inspected the three soldiers; I animated them
with the most liberal promises; and to confirm their confidence in me, I
began by making each man a present of ten pistoles.
"The momentous day having arrived, I sent one of them at an early
hour to the Hospital, to ascertain the exact time when the police were
to start with their prisoners. Although I merely took this precaution
from my excessive anxiety, it turned out to have been a prudent step. I
had formed my plans upon false information, which I had received as to
their destination; and believing that it was at Rochelle this unhappy
group was to embark, all my trouble would have been thrown away in
waiting for them on the Orleans road. However, I learned, by the
soldier’s report, that they would go out towards Rouen, and that it was
from Havre-de-Grace they were to sail for America.
"We at once went to the gate of St. Honore, taking care to go by
different streets. We assembled at the end of the faubourg. Our horses
were fresh. In a little time we observed before us the six archers and
the two wretched caravans, which you saw at Passy two years ago. The
sight alone almost deprived me of my strength and senses. ‘Oh fate!’
said I to myself, ‘cruel fate! grant me now either death or victory.’
"We hastily consulted as to the mode of making the attack. The
cavalcade was only four hundred paces in advance, and we might intercept
them by cutting across a small field, round which the high road led. The
guardsman was for this course, in order to fall suddenly upon them while
unprepared. I approved of the plan, and was the first to spur my horse
forward--but fate once again relentlessly blasted all my hopes.
"The escort, seeing five horsemen riding towards them, inferred that
it was for the purpose of attacking them. They put themselves in a
position of defence, preparing their bayonets and guns with an air of
resolution.
"This demonstration, which in the guardsman and myself only inspired
fresh courage, had a very different effect upon our three cowardly
companions. They stopped simultaneously, and having muttered to each
other some words which I could not hear, they turned their horses’
heads, threw the bridles on their necks, and galloped back towards
Paris.
"‘Good heavens!’ said the guardsman, who appeared as much annoyed as
I was by this infamous desertion, ‘what is to be done? we are but two
now.’
"From rage and consternation I had lost all power of speech. I
doubted whether my first revenge should not be in pursuing the cowards
who had abandoned me. I saw them flying, and looked in the other
direction at the escort: if it had been possible to divide myself, I
should at once have fallen upon both these objects of my fury; I should
have destroyed all at the same moment.
"The guardsman, who saw my irresolution by my wandering gaze, begged
of me to hear his advice. ‘Being but two,’ he said, ‘it would be madness
to attack six men as well armed as ourselves, and who seem determined to
receive us firmly. Let us return to Paris, and endeavour to succeed
better in the choice of our comrades. The police cannot make very rapid
progress with two heavy vans; we may overtake them tomorrow without
difficulty.’
"I reflected a moment on this suggestion; but seeing nothing around
me but despair, I took a final and indeed desperate resolution: this was
to thank my companion for his services, and, far from attacking the
police, to go up with submission and implore them to receive me among
them, that I might accompany Manon to Havre-de-Grace, and afterwards, if
possible, cross the Atlantic with her. ‘The whole world is either
persecuting or betraying me,’ said I to the guardsman; ‘I have no longer
the power of interesting anyone in my favour; I expect nothing more
either from fortune or the friendship of man; my misery is at its
height; it only remains for me to submit, so that I close my eyes
henceforward against every gleam of hope. May Heaven,’ I continued,
‘reward you for your generosity! Adieu! I shall go and aid my wretched
destiny in filling up the full measure of my ruin!’ He, in vain,
endeavoured to persuade me to return with him to Paris. I entreated him
to leave me at once, lest the police should still suspect us of an
intention to attack them.
|
CHAPTER XII
"Riding towards the cortege at a slow pace, and with a sorrowful
countenance, the guards could hardly see anything very terrific in my
approach. They seemed, however, to expect an attack. ‘Be persuaded,
gentlemen,’ said I to them, ‘that I come not to wage war, but rather to
ask favours.’ I then begged of them to continue their progress without
any distrust, and as we went along I made my solicitations. They
consulted together to ascertain in what way they should entertain my
request. The chief of them spoke for the rest. He said that the orders
they had received to watch the prisoners vigilantly were of the
strictest kind; that, however, I seemed so interesting a young man, that
they might be induced to relax a little in their duty; but that I must
know, of course, that this would cost me something. I had about sixteen
pistoles left, and candidly told them what my purse contained. ‘Well,’
said the gendarme, ‘we will act generously. It shall only cost you a
crown an hour for conversing with any of our girls that you may prefer--
that is the ordinary price in Paris.’
"I said not a word of Manon, because I did not wish to let them know
of my passion. They at first supposed it was merely a boyish whim, that
made me think of amusing myself with these creatures but when they
discovered that I was in love, they increased their demands in such a
way, that my purse was completely empty on leaving Mantes, where we had
slept the night before our arrival at Passy.
"Shall I describe to you my heart-rending interviews with Manon
during this journey, and what my sensations were when I obtained from
the guards permission to approach her caravan? Oh! language never can
adequately express the sentiments of the heart; but picture to yourself
my poor mistress, with a chain round her waist, seated upon a handful of
straw, her head resting languidly against the panel of the carriage, her
face pale and bathed with tears, which forced a passage between her
eyelids, although she kept them continually closed. She had not even the
curiosity to open her eyes on hearing the bustle of the guards when they
expected our attack. Her clothes were soiled, and in disorder; her
delicate hands exposed to the rough air; in fine, her whole angelic
form, that face, lovely enough to carry back the world to idolatry,
presented a spectacle of distress and anguish utterly indescribable.
"I spent some moments gazing at her as I rode alongside the carriage.
I had so lost my self-possession, that I was several times on the point
of falling from my horse. My sighs and frequent exclamations at length
attracted her attention. She looked at and recognised me, and I remarked
that on the first impulse, she unconsciously tried to leap from the
carriage towards me, but being checked by her chain, she fell into her
former attitude.
"I begged of the guards to stop one moment for the sake of mercy;
they consented for the sake of avarice. I dismounted to go and sit near
her. She was so languid and feeble, that she was for some time without
the power of speech, and could not raise her hands: I bathed them with
my tears; and being myself unable to utter a word, we formed together as
deplorable a picture of distress as could well be seen. When at length
we were able to speak, our conversation was not less sorrowful. Manon
said little: shame and grief appeared to have altered the character of
her voice; its tone was feeble and tremulous.
"She thanked me for not having forgotten her, and for the comfort I
gave her in allowing her to see me once more, and she then bade me a
long and last farewell. But when I assured her that no power on earth
could ever separate me from her, and that I was resolved to follow her
to the extremity of the world--to watch over her--to guard her--to love
her--and inseparably to unite my wretched destiny with hers, the poor
girl gave way to such feelings of tenderness and grief, that I almost
dreaded danger to her life from the violence of her emotion: the
agitation of her whole soul seemed intensely concentrated in her eyes;
she fixed them steadfastly upon me. She more than once opened her lips
without the power of giving utterance to her thoughts. I could, however,
catch some expressions that dropped from her, of admiration and wonder
at my excessive love--of doubt that she could have been fortunate enough
to inspire me with a passion so perfect--of earnest entreaty that I
would abandon my intention of following her, and seek elsewhere a lot
more worthy of me, and which, she said, I could never hope to find with
her.
"In spite of the cruellest inflictions of Fate, I derived comfort
from her looks, and from the conviction that I now possessed her
undivided affection. I had in truth lost all that other men value; but I
was the master of Manon’s heart, the only possession that I prized.
Whether in Europe or in America, of what moment to me was the place of
my abode, provided I might live happy in the society of my mistress? Is
not the universe the residence of two fond and faithful lovers? Does not
each find in the other, father, mother, friends, relations, riches,
felicity?
"If anything caused me uneasiness, it was the fear of seeing Manon
exposed to want. I fancied myself already with her in a barbarous
country, inhabited by savages. ‘I am quite certain,’ said I, ‘there will
be none there more cruel than G---- M---- and my father. They will, at
least, allow us to live in peace. If the accounts we read of savages be
true, they obey the laws of nature: they neither know the mean rapacity
of avarice, nor the false and fantastic notions of dignity, which have
raised me up an enemy in my own father. They will not harass and
persecute two lovers, when they see us adopt their own simple habits.’ I
was therefore at ease upon that point.
"But my romantic ideas were not formed with a proper view to the
ordinary wants of life. I had too often found that there were
necessaries which could not be dispensed with, particularly by a young
and delicate woman, accustomed to comfort and abundance. I was in
despair at having so fruitlessly emptied my purse, and the little money
that now remained was about being forced from me by the rascally
imposition of the gendarmes. I imagined that a very trifling sum would
suffice for our support for some time in America, where money was
scarce, and might also enable me to form some undertaking there for our
permanent establishment.
"This idea made me resolve on writing to Tiberge, whom I had ever
found ready to hold out the generous hand of friendship. I wrote from
the first town we passed through. I only alluded to the destitute
condition in which I foresaw that I should find myself on arriving at
Havre-de-Grace, to which place I acknowledged that I was accompanying
Manon. I asked him for only fifty pistoles. ‘You can remit it to me,’
said I to him, ‘through the hands of the postmaster. You must perceive
that it is the last time I can by possibility trespass on your friendly
kindness; and my poor unhappy mistress being about to be exiled from her
country for ever, I cannot let her depart without supplying her with
some few comforts, to soften the sufferings of her lot, as well as to
assuage my own sorrows.’
"The gendarmes became so rapacious when they saw the violence of my
passion, continually increasing their demands for the slightest favours,
that they soon left me penniless. Love did not permit me to put any
bounds to my liberality. At Manon’s side I was not master of myself; and
it was no longer by the hour that time was measured; rather by the
duration of whole days. At length, my funds being completely exhausted,
I found myself exposed to the brutal caprice of these six wretches who
treated me with intolerable rudeness--you yourself witnessed it at
Passy. My meeting with you was a momentary relaxation accorded me by
fate. Your compassion at the sight of my sufferings was my only
recommendation to your generous nature. The assistance which you so
liberally extended, enabled me to reach Havre, and the guards kept their
promise more faithfully than I had ventured to hope.
"We arrived at Havre. I went to the post-office: Tiberge had not yet
had time to answer my letter. I ascertained the earliest day I might
reckon upon his answer: it could not possibly arrive for two days
longer; and by an extraordinary fatality, our vessel was to sail on the
very morning of the day when the letter might be expected. I cannot give
you an idea of my despair. ‘Alas!’ cried I, ‘even amongst the
unfortunate, I am to be ever the most wretched!’
"Manon replied: ‘Alas! does a life so thoroughly miserable deserve
the care we bestow on ours? Let us die at Havre, dearest chevalier! Let
death at once put an end to our afflictions! Shall we persevere, and go
to drag on this hopeless existence in an unknown land, where we shall,
no doubt, have to encounter the most horrible pains, since it has been
their object to punish me by exile? Let us die,’ she repeated, ‘or do at
least in mercy rid me of life, and then you can seek another lot in the
arms of some happier lover.’
"‘No, no, Manon,’ said I; ‘it is but too enviable a lot, in my
estimation, to be allowed to share your misfortunes.’
"Her observations made me tremble. I saw that she was overpowered by
her afflictions. I tried to assume a more tranquil air, in order to
dissipate such melancholy thoughts of death and despair.
I resolved to adopt the same course in future; and I learned by the
results, that nothing is more calculated to inspire a woman with courage
than the demonstration of intrepidity in the man she loves.
"When I lost all hope of receiving the expected assistance from
Tiberge, I sold my horse; the money it brought, joined to what remained
of your generous gift, amounted to the small sum of forty pistoles; I
expended eight in the purchase of some necessary articles for Manon; and
I put the remainder by, as the capital upon which we were to rest our
hopes and raise our fortunes in America. I had no difficulty in getting
admitted on board the vessel. They were at the time looking for young
men as voluntary emigrants to the colony. The passage and provisions
were supplied gratis. I left a letter for Tiberge, which was to go by
the post next morning to Paris. It was no doubt written in a tone
calculated to affect him deeply, since it induced him to form a
resolution, which could only be carried into execution by the tenderest
and most generous sympathy for his unhappy friend.
|
CHAPTER XIII
"We set sail; the wind continued favourable during the entire passage. I
obtained from the captain’s kindness a separate cabin for the use of
Manon and myself. He was so good as to distinguish us from the herd of
our miserable associates. I took an opportunity, on the second day, of
conciliating his attentions, by telling him part of our unfortunate
history. I did not feel that I was guilty of any very culpable falsehood
in saying that I was the husband of Manon. He appeared to believe it,
and promised me his protection; and indeed we experienced, during the
whole passage, the most flattering evidences of his sincerity. He took
care that our table was comfortably provided; and his attentions
procured us the marked respect of our companions in misery. The
unwearied object of my solicitude was to save Manon from every
inconvenience. She felt this, and her gratitude, together with a lively
sense of the singular position in which I had placed myself solely for
her sake, rendered the dear creature so tender and impassioned, so
attentive also to my most trifling wants, that it was between us a
continual emulation of attentions and of love. I felt no regret at
quitting Europe; on the contrary, the nearer we approached America, the
more did I feel my heart expand and become tranquil. If I had not felt a
dread of our perhaps wanting, by and by, the absolute necessaries of
life, I should have been grateful to fate for having at length given so
favourable a turn to our affairs.
"‘After a passage of two months, we at length reached the banks of
the desired river. The country offered at first sight nothing agreeable.
We saw only sterile and uninhabited plains, covered with rushes, and
some trees rooted up by the wind. No trace either of men or animals.
However, the captain having discharged some pieces of artillery, we
presently observed a group of the inhabitants of New Orleans, who
approached us with evident signs of joy. We had not perceived the town:
it is concealed upon the side on which we approached it by a hill. We
were received as persons dropped from the clouds.
"The poor inhabitants hastened to put a thousand questions to us upon
the state of France, and of the different provinces in which they were
born. They embraced us as brothers, and as beloved companions, who had
come to share their pains and their solitude.
We turned towards the town with them; but we were astonished to
perceive, as we advanced, that what we had hitherto heard spoken of as a
respectable town, was nothing more than a collection of miserable huts.
They were inhabited by five or six hundred persons. The governor’s house
was a little distinguished from the rest by its height and its position.
It was surrounded by some earthen ramparts, and a deep ditch.
"We were first presented to him. He continued for some time in
conversation with the captain; and then advancing towards us, he looked
attentively at the women one after another: there were thirty of them,
for another troop of convicts had joined us at Havre. After having thus
inspected them, he sent for several young men of the colony who were
desirous to marry. He assigned the handsomest women to the principal of
these, and the remainder were disposed of by lot. He had not yet
addressed Manon; but having ordered the others to depart, he made us
remain. ‘I learn from the captain,’ said he, ‘that you are married, and
he is convinced by your conduct on the passage that you are both persons
of merit and of education. I have nothing to do with the cause of your
misfortunes; but if it be true that you are as conversant with the world
and society as your appearance would indicate, I shall spare no pains to
soften the severity of your lot, and you may on your part contribute
towards rendering this savage and desert abode less disagreeable to me.’
I replied in the manner which I thought best calculated to confirm the
opinion he had formed of us. He gave orders to have a habitation
prepared for us in the town, and detained us to supper. I was really
surprised to find so much politeness in a governor of transported
convicts. In the presence of others he abstained from enquiring about
our past adventures. The conversation was general; and in spite of our
degradation, Manon and I exerted ourselves to make it lively and
agreeable.
"At night we were conducted to the lodging prepared for us. We found
a wretched hovel composed of planks and mud, containing three rooms on
the ground, and a loft overhead. He had sent there six chairs, and some
few necessaries of life.
"Manon appeared frightened by the first view of this melancholy
dwelling. It was on my account much more than upon her own, that she
distressed herself. When we were left to ourselves, she sat down and
wept bitterly. I attempted at first to console her; but when she enabled
me to understand that it was for my sake she deplored our privations,
and that in our common afflictions she only considered me as the
sufferer, I put on an air of resolution, and even of content, sufficient
to encourage her.
"‘What is there in my lot to lament?’ said I; ‘I possess all that I
have ever desired. You love me, Manon, do you not? What happiness beyond
this have I ever longed for? Let us leave to Providence the direction of
our destiny; it by no means appears to me so desperate. The governor is
civil and obliging; he has already given us marks of his consideration;
he will not allow us to want for necessaries. As to our rude hut and the
squalidness of our furniture, you might have noticed that there are few
persons in the colony better lodged or more comfortably furnished than
we are: and then you are an admirable chemist,’ added I, embracing her;
‘you transform everything into gold.’
"‘In that case,’ she answered, ‘you shall be the richest man in the
universe; for, as there never was love surpassing yours, so it is
impossible for man to be loved more tenderly than you are by me. I well
know,’ she continued, ‘that I have never merited the almost incredible
fidelity and attachment which you have shown for me. I have often caused
you annoyances, which nothing but excessive fondness could have induced
you to pardon. I have been thoughtless and volatile; and even while
loving you as I have always done to distraction, I was never free from a
consciousness of ingratitude. But you cannot believe how much my nature
is altered; those tears which you have so frequently seen me shed since
quitting the French shore, have not been caused by my own misfortunes.
Since you began to share them with me, I have been a stranger to
selfishness: I only wept from tenderness and compassion for you. I am
inconsolable at the thought of having given you one instant’s pain
during my past life. I never cease upbraiding myself with my former
inconstancy, and wondering at the sacrifices which love has induced you
to make for a miserable and unworthy wretch, who could not, with the
last drop of her blood, compensate for half the torments she has caused
you.’
"Her grief, the language, and the tone in which she expressed
herself, made such an impression, that I felt my heart ready to break in
me. ‘Take care,’ said I to her, ‘take care, dear Manon; I have not
strength to endure such exciting marks of your affection; I am little
accustomed to the rapturous sensations which you now kindle in my heart.
Oh Heaven!’ cried I, ‘I have now nothing further to ask of you. I am
sure of Manon’s love. That has been alone wanting to complete my
happiness; I can now never cease to be happy: my felicity is well
secured.’
"‘It is indeed,’ she replied, ‘if it depends upon me, and I well know
where I can be ever certain of finding my own happiness centred.’
"With these ideas, capable of turning my hut into a palace worthy of
earth’s proudest monarch, I lay down to rest. America appeared to my
view the true land of milk and honey, the abode of contentment and
delight. ‘People should come to New Orleans,’ I often said to Manon,
‘who wish to enjoy the real rapture of love! It is here that love is
divested of all selfishness, all jealousy, all inconstancy. Our
countrymen come here in search of gold; they little think that we have
discovered treasures of inestimably greater value.’
"We carefully cultivated the governor’s friendship. He bestowed upon
me, a few weeks after our arrival, a small appointment which became
vacant in the fort. Although not one of any distinction, I gratefully
accepted it as a gift of Providence, as it enabled me to live
independently of others’ aid. I took a servant for myself, and a woman
for Manon. Our little establishment became settled: nothing could
surpass the regularity of my conduct, or that of Manon; we lost no
opportunity of serving or doing an act of kindness to our neighbours.
This friendly disposition, and the mildness of our manners, secured us
the confidence and affection of the whole colony. We soon became so
respected, that we ranked as the principal persons in the town after the
governor.
"The simplicity of our habits and occupations, and the perfect
innocence in which we lived, revived insensibly our early feelings of
devotion. Manon had never been an irreligious girl, and I was far from
being one of those reckless libertines who delight in adding impiety and
sacrilege to moral depravity: all the disorders of our lives might be
fairly ascribed to the natural influences of youth and love. Experience
had now begun with us to do the office of age; it produced the same
effect upon us as years must have done. Our conversation, which was
generally of a serious turn, by degrees engendered a longing for
virtuous love. I first proposed this change to Manon. I knew the
principles of her heart; she was frank and natural in all her
sentiments, qualities which invariably predispose to virtue. I said to
her that there was but one thing wanting to complete our happiness: ‘it
is,’ said I, ‘to invoke upon our union the benediction of Heaven. We
have both of us hearts too sensitive and minds too refined, to continue
voluntarily in the wilful violation of so sacred a duty. It signifies
nothing our having lived while in France in such a manner, because there
it was as impossible for us not to love, as to be united by a legitimate
tie: but in America, where we are under no restraint, where we owe no
allegiance to the arbitrary distinctions of birth and aristocratic
prejudice, where besides we are already supposed to be married, why
should we not actually become so--why should we not sanctify our love by
the holy ordinances of religion? As for me,’ I added, ‘I offer nothing
new in offering you my hand and my heart; but I am ready to ratify it at
the foot of the altar.’
"This speech seemed to inspire her with joy. ‘Would you believe it,’
she replied, ‘I have thought of this a thousand times since our arrival
in America? The fear of annoying you has kept it shut up in my breast. I
felt that I had no pretensions to aspire to the character of your wife.’
"‘Ah! Manon,’ said I, ‘you should very soon be a sovereign’s consort,
if I had been born to the inheritance of a crown. Let us not hesitate;
we have no obstacle to impede us: I will this day speak to the governor
on the subject, and acknowledge that we have in this particular hitherto
deceived him. Let us leave,’ added I, ‘to vulgar lovers the dread of the
indissoluble bonds of marriage;[1] they would not fear them if they were
assured, as we are, of the continuance of those of love.’ I left Manon
enchanted by this resolution.
Some say that Love, at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings,
and in a moment flies.
"I am persuaded that no honest man could disapprove of this intention in
my present situation; that is to say, fatally enslaved as I was by a
passion which I could not subdue, and visited by compunction and remorse
which I ought not to stifle. But will any man charge me with injustice
or impiety if I complain of the rigour of Heaven in defeating a design
that I could only have formed with the view of conciliating its favour
and complying with its decrees? Alas I do I say defeated? nay punished
as a new crime. I was patiently permitted to go blindly along the high
road of vice; and the cruellest chastisements were reserved for the
period when I was returning to the paths of virtue. I now fear that I
shall have hardly fortitude enough left to recount the most disastrous
circumstances that ever occurred to any man.
"I waited upon the governor, as I had settled with Manon, to procure
his consent to the ceremony of our marriage. I should have avoided
speaking to him or to any other person upon the subject, if I had
imagined that his chaplain, who was the only minister in the town, would
have performed the office for me without his knowledge; but not daring
to hope that he would do so privately, I determined to act ingenuously
in the matter.
"The governor had a nephew named Synnelet, of whom he was
particularly fond. He was about thirty; brave, but of a headstrong and
violent disposition. He was not married. Manon’s beauty had struck him
on the first day of our arrival; and the numberless opportunities he had
of seeing her during the last nine or ten months, had so inflamed his
passion, that he was absolutely pining for her in secret. However, as he
was convinced in common with his uncle and the whole colony that I was
married, he put such a restraint upon his feelings, that they remained
generally unnoticed; and he lost no opportunity of showing the most
disinterested friendship for me.
"He happened to be with his uncle when I arrived at the government
house. I had no reason for keeping my intention a secret from him, so
that I explained myself without hesitation in his presence. The governor
heard me with his usual kindness. I related to him a part of my history,
to which he listened with evident interest; and when I requested his
presence at the intended ceremony, he was so generous as to say, that he
must be permitted to defray the expenses of the succeeding
entertainment. I retired perfectly satisfied.
"In an hour after, the chaplain paid me a visit. I thought he was
come to prepare me by religious instruction for the sacred ceremony;
but, after a cold salutation, he announced to me in two words, that the
governor desired I would relinquish all thoughts of such a thing, for
that he had other views for Manon.
"‘Other views for Manon!’ said I, as I felt my heart sink within me;
‘what views then can they be, chaplain?’
"He replied, that I must be, of course, aware that the governor was
absolute master here; that Manon, having been transported from France to
the colony, was entirely at his disposal; that, hitherto he had not
exercised his right, believing that she was a married woman; but that
now, having learned from my own lips that it was not so, he had resolved
to assign her to M. Synnelet, who was passionately in love with her.
"My indignation overcame my prudence. Irritated as I was, I desired
the chaplain instantly to quit my house, swearing at the same time that
neither governor, Synnelet, nor the whole colony together, should lay
hands upon my wife, or mistress, if they chose so to call her.
"I immediately told Manon of the distressing message I had just
received. We conjectured that Synnelet had warped his uncle’s mind after
my departure, and that it was all the effect of a premeditated design.
They were, questionless, the stronger party. We found ourselves in New
Orleans, as in the midst of the ocean, separated from the rest of the
world by an immense interval of space. In a country perfectly unknown, a
desert, or inhabited, if not by brutes, at least by savages quite as
ferocious, to what corner could we fly? I was respected in the town, but
I could not hope to excite the people in my favour to such a degree as
to derive assistance from them proportioned to the impending danger:
money was requisite for that purpose, and I was poor. Besides, the
success of a popular commotion was uncertain; and if we failed in the
attempt, our doom would be inevitably sealed.
"I revolved these thoughts in my mind; I mentioned them in part to
Manon; I found new ones, without waiting for her replies; I determined
upon one course, and then abandoned that to adopt another; I talked to
myself, and answered my own thoughts aloud; at length I sank into a kind
of hysterical stupor that I can compare to nothing, because nothing ever
equalled it. Manon observed my emotion, and from its violence, judged
how imminent was our danger; and, apprehensive more on my account than
on her own, the dear girl could not even venture to give expression to
her fears.
"After a multitude of reflections, I resolved to call upon the
governor, and appeal to his feelings of honour, to the recollection of
my unvarying respect for him, and the marks he had given of his own
affection for us both. Manon endeavoured to dissuade me from this
attempt: she said, with tears in her eyes, ‘You are rushing into the
jaws of death; they will murder you--I shall never again see you--I am
determined to die before you.’ I had great difficulty in persuading her
that it was absolutely necessary that I should go, and that she should
remain at home. I promised that she should see me again in a few
moments. She did not foresee, nor did I, that it was against herself the
whole anger of Heaven, and the rabid fury of our enemies, was about to
be concentrated.
"I went to the fort: the governor was there with his chaplain. I
supplicated him in a tone of humble submission that I could have ill
brooked under other circumstances. I invoked his clemency by every
argument calculated to soften any heart less ferocious and cruel than a
tiger’s.
"The barbarian made to all my prayers but two short answers, which he
repeated over and over again. ‘Manon,’ he said, ‘was at his disposal:
and he had given a promise to his nephew.’ I was resolved to command my
feelings to the last: I merely replied, that I had imagined he was too
sincerely my friend to desire my death, to which I would infinitely
rather consent than to the loss of my mistress.
"I felt persuaded, on quitting him, that it was folly to expect
anything from the obstinate tyrant, who would have damned himself a
hundred times over to please his nephew. However, I persevered in
restraining my temper to the end; deeply resolved, if they persisted in
such flagrant injustice, to make America the scene of one of the most
horrible and bloody murders that even love had ever led to.
"I was, on my return home, meditating upon this design, when fate, as
if impatient to expedite my ruin, threw Synnelet in my way. He read in
my countenance a portion of my thoughts. I before said, he was brave. He
approached me.
"‘Are you not seeking me?’ he enquired. ‘I know that my intentions
have given you mortal offence, and that the death of one of us is
indispensable: let us see who is to be the happy man.’
"I replied, that such was unquestionably the fact, and that nothing
but death could end the difference between us.
"We retired about one hundred paces out of the town. We drew: I
wounded and disarmed him at the first onset. He was so enraged, that he
peremptorily refused either to ask his life or renounce his claims to
Manon. I might have been perhaps justified in ending both by a single
blow; but noble blood ever vindicates its origin. I threw him back his
sword. ‘Let us renew the struggle,’ said I to him, ‘and remember that
there shall be now no quarter.’ He attacked me with redoubled fury. I
must confess that I was not an accomplished swordsman, having had but
three months’ tuition in Paris. Love, however, guided my weapon.
Synnelet pierced me through and through the left arm; but I caught him
whilst thus engaged, and made so vigorous a thrust that I stretched him
senseless at my feet.
"In spite of the triumphant feeling that victory, after a mortal
conflict, inspires, I was immediately horrified by the certain
consequences of his death. There could not be the slightest hope of
either pardon or respite from the vengeance I had thus incurred. Aware,
as I was, of the affection of the governor for his nephew, I felt
perfectly sure that my death would not be delayed a single hour after
his should become known. ‘Urgent as this apprehension was, it still was
by no means the principal source of my uneasiness. Manon, the welfare of
Manon, the peril that impended over her, and the certainty of my being
now at length separated from her, afflicted me to such a degree, that I
was incapable of recognising the place in which I stood. I regretted
Synnelet’s death: instant suicide seemed the only remedy for my woes.
"However, it was this very thought that quickly restored me to my
reason, and enabled me to form a resolution. ‘What,’ said I to myself,
‘die, in order to end my pain! Then there is something I dread more than
the loss of all I love! No, let me suffer the cruellest extremities in
order to aid her; and when these prove of no avail, fly to death as a
last resource!’
"I returned towards the town; on my arrival at home, I found Manon
half dead with fright and anxiety: my presence restored her. I could not
conceal from her the terrible accident that had happened. On my
mentioning the death of Synnelet and my own wound, she fell in a state
of insensibility into my arms. It was a quarter of an hour before I
could bring her again to her senses.
"I was myself in a most deplorable state of mind; I could not discern
the slightest prospect of safety for either of us. ‘Manon,’ said I to
her, when she had recovered a little, ‘what shall we do? Alas, what hope
remains to us? I must necessarily fly. Will you remain in the town? Yes
dearest Manon, do remain; you may possibly still be happy here; while I,
far away from you, may seek death and find it amongst the savages, or
the wild beasts.’
"She raised herself in spite of her weakness, and taking hold of my
hand to lead me towards the door: ‘Let us,’ said she, ‘fly together, we
have not a moment to lose; Synnelet’s body may be found by chance, and
we shall then have no time to escape.’ ‘But, dear Manon,’ replied I, ‘to
what place can we fly? Do you perceive any resource? Would it not be
better that you should endeavour to live on without me; and that I
should go and voluntarily place my life in the governor’s hands?’
"This proposal had only the effect of making her more impatient for
our departure. I had presence of mind enough, on going out, to take with
me some strong liquors which I had in my chamber, and as much food as I
could carry in my pockets. We told our servants, who were in the
adjoining room, that we were going to take our evening walk, as was our
invariable habit; and we left the town behind us more rapidly than I had
thought possible from Manon’s delicate state of health.
"Although I had not formed any resolve as to our future destination,
I still cherished a hope, without which I should have infinitely
preferred death to my suspense about Manon’s safety. I had acquired a
sufficient knowledge of the country, during nearly ten months which I
had now passed in America, to know in what manner the natives should be
approached. Death was not the necessary consequence of falling into
their hands. I had learned a few words of their language, and some of
their customs, having had many opportunities of seeing them.
"Besides this sad resource, I derived some hopes from the fact, that
the English had, like ourselves, established colonies in this part of
the New World. But the distance was terrific. In order to reach them, we
should have to traverse deserts of many days’ journey, and more than one
range of mountains so steep and vast as to seem almost impassable to the
strongest man. I nevertheless flattered myself that we might derive
partial relief from one or other of these sources: the savages might
serve us as guides, and the English receive us in their settlements.
"We journeyed on as long as Manon’s strength would permit, that is to
say, about six miles; for this incomparable creature, with her usual
absence of selfishness, refused my repeated entreaties to stop.
Overpowered at length by fatigue, she acknowledged the utter
impossibility of proceeding farther. It was already night: we sat down
in the midst of an extensive plain, where we could not even find a tree
to shelter us. Her first care was to dress my wound, which she had
bandaged before our departure. I, in vain, entreated her to desist from
exertion: it would have only added to her distress if I had refused her
the satisfaction of seeing me at ease and out of danger, before her own
wants were attended to. I allowed her therefore to gratify herself, and
in shame and silence submitted to her delicate attentions.
"But when she had completed her tender task, with what ardour did I
not enter upon mine! I took off my clothes and stretched them under her,
to render more endurable the hard and rugged ground on which she lay. I
protected her delicate hands from the cold by my burning kisses and the
warmth of my sighs. I passed the livelong night in watching over her as
she slept, and praying Heaven to refresh her with soft and undisturbed
repose. ‘You can bear witness, just and all-seeing God I to the fervour
and sincerity of those prayers, and Thou alone knowest with what awful
rigour they were rejected.’
"You will excuse me, if I now cut short a story which it distresses
me beyond endurance to relate. It is, I believe, a calamity without
parallel. I can never cease to deplore it. But although it continues, of
course, deeply and indelibly impressed on my memory, yet my heart seems
to shrink within me each time that I attempt the recital.
"We had thus tranquilly passed the night. I had fondly imagined that
my beloved mistress was in a profound sleep, and I hardly dared to
breathe lest I should disturb her. As day broke, I observed that her
hands were cold and trembling; I pressed them to my bosom in the hope of
restoring animation. This movement roused her attention, and making an
effort to grasp my hand, she said, in a feeble voice, that she thought
her last moments had arrived.
"I, at first, took this for a passing weakness, or the ordinary
language of distress; and I answered with the usual consolations that
love prompted. But her incessant sighs, her silence, and inattention to
my enquiries, the convulsed grasp of her hands, in which she retained
mine, soon convinced me that the crowning end of all my miseries was
approaching.
"Do not now expect me to attempt a description of my feelings, or to
repeat her dying expressions. I lost her--I received the purest
assurances of her love even at the very instant that her spirit fled. I
have not nerve to say more upon this fatal and disastrous event.
"My spirit was not destined to accompany Manon’s. Doubtless, Heaven
did not as yet consider me sufficiently punished, and therefore ordained
that I should continue to drag on a languid and joyless existence. I
willingly renounced every hope of leading a happy one.
"I remained for twenty-four hours without taking my lips from the
still beauteous countenance and hands of my adored Manon. My intention
was to await my own death in that position; but at the beginning of the
second day, I reflected that, after I was gone, she must of necessity
become the prey of wild beasts. I then determined to bury her, and wait
my own doom upon her grave. I was already, indeed, so near my end from
the combined effect of long fasting and grief, that it was with the
greatest difficulty I could support myself standing. I was obliged to
have recourse to the liquors which I had brought with me, and these
restored sufficient strength to enable me to set about my last sad
office. From the sandy nature of the soil there was little trouble in
opening the ground. I broke my sword and used it for the purpose; but my
bare hands were of greater service. I dug a deep grave, and there
deposited the idol of my heart, after having wrapt around her my clothes
to prevent the sand from touching her. I kissed her ten thousand times
with all the ardour of the most glowing love, before I laid her in this
melancholy bed. I sat for some time upon the bank intently gazing on
her, and could not command fortitude enough to close the grave over her.
At length, feeling that my strength was giving way, and apprehensive of
its being entirely exhausted before the completion of my task, I
committed to the earth all that it had ever contained most perfect and
peerless. I then lay myself with my face down upon the grave, and
closing my eyes with the determination never again to open them, I
invoked the mercy of Heaven, and ardently prayed for death.
"You will find it difficult to believe that, during the whole time of
this protracted and distressing ceremony, not a tear or a sigh escaped
to relieve my agony. The state of profound affliction in which I was,
and the deep settled resolution I had taken to die, had silenced the
sighs of despair, and effectually dried up the ordinary channels of
grief. It was thus impossible for me, in this posture upon the grave, to
continue for any time in possession of my faculties.
"After what you have listened to, the remainder of my own history
would ill repay the attention you seem inclined to bestow upon it.
Synnelet having been carried into the town and skilfully examined, it
was found that, so far from being dead, he was not even dangerously
wounded. He informed his uncle of the manner in which the affray had
occurred between us, and he generously did justice to my conduct on the
occasion. I was sent for; and as neither of us could be found, our
flight was immediately suspected. It was then too late to attempt to
trace me, but the next day and the following one were employed in the
pursuit.
"I was found, without any appearance of life, upon the grave of
Manon: and the persons who discovered me in this situation, seeing that
I was almost naked and bleeding from my wounds, naturally supposed that
I had been robbed and assassinated. They carried me into the town. The
motion restored me to my senses. The sighs I heaved on opening my eyes
and finding myself still amongst the living, showed that I was not
beyond the reach of art: they were but too successful in its
application.
"I was immediately confined as a close prisoner. My trial was
ordered; and as Manon was not forthcoming, I was accused of having
murdered her from rage and jealousy. I naturally related all that had
occurred. Synnelet, though bitterly grieved and disappointed by what he
heard, had the generosity to solicit my pardon: he obtained it.
"I was so reduced, that they were obliged to carry me from the prison
to my bed, and there I suffered for three long months under severe
illness. My aversion from life knew no diminution. I continually prayed
for death, and obstinately for some time refused every remedy. But
Providence, after having punished me with atoning rigour, saw fit to
turn to my own use its chastisements and the memory of my multiplied
sorrows. It at length deigned to shed upon me its redeeming light, and
revived in my mind ideas worthy of my birth and my early education.
"My tranquillity of mind being again restored, my cure speedily
followed. I began only to feel the highest aspirations of honour, and
diligently performed the duties of my appointment, whilst expecting the
arrival of the vessels from France, which were always due at this period
of the year. I resolved to return to my native country, there to expiate
the scandal of my former life by my future good conduct. Synnelet had
the remains of my dear mistress removed into a more hallowed spot.
"It was six weeks after my recovery that, one day walking alone upon
the banks of the river, I saw a vessel arrive, which some mercantile
speculation had directed to New Orleans. I stood by whilst the
passengers landed. Judge my surprise on recognising Tiberge amongst
those who proceeded towards the town. This ever-faithful friend knew me
at a distance, in spite of the ravages which care and sorrow had worked
upon my countenance. He told me that the sole object of his voyage had
been to see me once more, and to induce me to return with him to France;
that on receipt of the last letter which I had written to him from
Havre, he started for that place, and was himself the bearer of the
succour which I solicited; that he had been sensibly affected on
learning my departure, and that he would have instantly followed me, if
there had been a vessel bound for the same destination; that he had been
for several months endeavouring to hear of one in the various seaport
towns, and that, having at length found one at St. Malo which was
weighing anchor for Martinique, he embarked, in the expectation of
easily passing from thence to New Orleans; that the St. Malo vessel
having been captured by Spanish pirates and taken to one of their
islands, he had contrived to escape; and that, in short, after many
adventures, he had got on board the vessel which had just arrived, and
at length happily attained his object.
"I was totally unable adequately to express my feelings of gratitude
to this generous and unshaken friend. I conducted him to my house, and
placed all I possessed at his service. I related to him every
circumstance that had occurred to me since I left France: and in order
to gladden him with tidings which I knew he did not expect, I assured
him that the seeds of virtue which he had in former days implanted in my
heart, were now about to produce fruit, of which even he should be
proud. He declared to me, that this gladdening announcement more than
repaid him for all the fatigue and trouble he had endured.
"We passed two months together at New Orleans whilst waiting the
departure of a vessel direct to France; and having at length sailed, we
landed only a fortnight since at Havre-de-Grace. On my arrival I wrote
to my family. By a letter from my elder brother, I there learned my
father’s death, which, I dread to think, the disorders of my youth might
have hastened. The wind being favourable for Calais, I embarked for this
port, and am now going to the house of one of my relations who lives a
few miles off, where my brother said that he should anxiously await my
arrival."
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