My Arrival at Marseilles--Madame d'Urfe--My Niece Is Welcomed by Madame
Audibert I Get Rid of My Brother and Possano--Regeneration--Departure of
Madame d'Urfe--Marcoline Remains Constant
My niece, now my mistress, grew more dear to me every day, and I could
not help trembling when I reflected that Marseilles would be the tomb of
our love. Though I could not help arriving there, I prolonged my
happiness as long as I could by travelling by short stages. I got to
Frejus in less than three hours, and stopped there, and telling Possano
and the abbe to do as they liked during our stay, I ordered a delicate
supper and choice wine for myself and my nymphs. Our repast lasted till
midnight, then we went to bed, and passed the time in sweet sleep and
sweeter pleasures. I made the same arrangements at Lucca, Brignoles, and
Aubayne, where I passed the sixth and last night of happiness.
As soon as I got to Marseilles I conducted my niece to Madame Audibert's,
and sent Possano and my brother to the "Trieze Cantons" inn, bidding them
observe the strictest silence with regard to me, for Madame d'Urfe had
been awaiting me for three weeks, and I wished to be my own herald to
her.
It was at Madame Audibert's that my niece had met Croce. She was a clever
woman, and had known the girl from her childhood, and it was through her
that my niece hoped to be restored to her father's good graces. We had
agreed that I should leave my niece and Marcoline in the carriage, and
should interview Madame Audibert, whose acquaintance I had made before,
and with whom I could make arrangements for my niece's lodging till some
arrangement was come to.
Madame Audibert saw me getting out of my carriage, and as she did not
recognize me her curiosity made her come down and open the door. She soon
recognized me, and consented to let me have a private interview with the
best grace in the world.
I did not lose any time in leading up to the subject, and after I had
given her a rapid sketch of the affair, how misfortune had obliged La
Croix to abandon Mdlle. Crosin, how I had been able to be of service to
her, and finally, how she had had the good luck to meet a wealthy and
distinguished person, who would come to Marseilles to ask her hand in a
fortnight, I concluded by saying that I should have the happiness of
restoring to her hands the dear girl whose preserver I had been.
"Where is she?" cried Madame Audibert.
"In my carriage. I have lowered the blinds."
"Bring her in, quick! I will see to everything. Nobody shall know that
she is in my house."
Happier than a prince, I made one bound to the carriage and, concealing
her face with her cloak and hood, I led my niece to her friend's arms.
This was a dramatic scene full of satisfaction for me. Kisses were given
and received, tears of happiness and repentance shed, I wept myself from
mingled feelings of emotion, happiness, and regret.
In the meanwhile Clairmont had brought up my niece's luggage, and I went
away promising to return and see her another day.
I had another and as important an arrangement to conclude, I mean with
respect to Marcoline. I told the postillions to take me to the worthy old
man's where I had lodged Rosalie so pleasantly. Marcoline was weeping at
this separation from her friend. I got down at the house, and made my
bargain hastily. My new mistress was, I said, to be lodged, fed, and
attended on as if she had been a princess. He shewed me the apartment she
was to occupy; it was fit for a young marchioness, and he told me that
she should be attended by his own niece, that she should not leave the
house, and that nobody but myself should visit her.
Having made these arrangements I made the fair Venetian come in. I gave
her the money she had won, which I had converted into gold and made up to
a thousand ducats.
"You won't want it here," said I, "so take care of it. At Venice a
thousand ducats will make you somebody. Do not weep, dearest, my heart is
with you, and to-morrow evening I will sup with you."
The old man gave me the latch-key, and I went off to the "Treize
Cantons." I was expected, and my rooms were adjacent to those occupied by
Madame d'Urfe.
As soon as I was settled, Bourgnole waited on me, and told me her
mistress was alone and expecting me impatiently.
I shall not trouble my readers with an account of our interview, as it
was only composed of Madame d'Urfe's mad flights of fancy, and of lies on
my part which had not even the merit of probability. A slave to my life
of happy profligacy, I profited by her folly; she would have found
someone else to deceive her, if I had not done so, for it was really she
who deceived herself. I naturally preferred to profit by her rather than
that a stranger should do so; she was very rich, and I did myself a great
deal of good, without doing anyone any harm. The first thing she asked me
was, "Where is Querilinthos?" And she jumped with joy when I told her
that he was under the same roof.
"'Tis he, then, who shall make me young again. So has my genius assured
me night after night. Ask Paralis if the presents I have prepared are
good enough for Semiramis to present to the head of the Fraternity of the
Rosy Cross."
I did not know what these presents were, and as I could not ask to see
them, I answered that, before consulting Paralis, it would be necessary
to consecrate the gifts under the planetary hours, and that Querilinthos
himself must not see them before the consecration. Thereupon she took me
to her closet, and shewed me the seven packets meant for the Rosicrucian
in the form of offerings to the seven planets.
Each packet contained seven pounds of the metal proper to the planet, and
seven precious stones, also proper to the planets, each being seven
carats in weight; there were diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires,
chrysolites, topazes, and opals.
I made up my mind that nothing of this should pass into the hands of the
Genoese, and told the mad woman that we must trust entirely in Paralis
for the method of consecration, which must be begun by our placing each
packet in a small casket made on purpose. One packet, and one only, could
be consecrated in a day, and it was necessary to begin with the sun. It
was now Friday, and we should have to wait till Sunday, the day of the
sun. On Saturday I had a box with seven niches made for the purpose.
For the purposes of consecration I spent three hours every day with
Madame d'Urfe, and we had not finished till the ensuing Saturday.
Throughout this week I made Possano and my brother take their meals with
us, and as the latter did not understand a word the good lady said, he
did not speak a word himself, and might have passed for a mute of the
seraglio. Madame d'Urfe pronounced him devoid of sense, and imagined we
were going to put the soul of a sylph into his body that he might
engender some being half human, half divine.
It was amusing to see my brother's despair and rage at being taken for an
idiot, and when he endeavoured to say something to spew that he was not
one, she only thought him more idiotic than ever. I laughed to myself,
and thought how ill he would have played the part if I had asked him to
do it. All the same the rascal did not lose anything by his reputation,
for Madame d'Urfe clothed him with a decent splendour that would have led
one to suppose that the abbe belonged to one of the first families in
France. The most uneasy guest at Madame d'Urfe's table was Possano, who
had to reply to questions, of the most occult nature, and, not knowing
anything about the subject, made the most ridiculous mistakes.
I brought Madame d'Urfe the box, and having made all the necessary
arrangements for the consecrations, I received an order from the oracle
to go into the country and sleep there for seven nights in succession, to
abstain from intercourse with all mortal women, and to perform ceremonial
worship to the moon every night, at the hour of that planet, in the open
fields. This would make me fit to regenerate Madame d'Urfe myself in case
Querilinthos, for some mystic reasons, might not be able to do so.
Through this order Madame d'Urfe was not only not vexed with me for
sleeping away from the hotel, but was grateful for the pains I was taking
to ensure the success of the operation.
The day after my arrival I called on Madame Audibert, and had the
pleasure of finding my niece wail pleased with the efforts her friend was
making in her favour. Madame Audibert had spoken to her father, telling
him that his daughter was with her, and that she hoped to obtain his
pardon and to return to his house, where she would soon become the bride
of a rich Genoese, who wished to receive her from her father's hands. The
worthy man, glad to find again the lost sheep, said he would come in two
days and take her to her aunt, who had a house at St. Louis, two leagues
from the town. She might then quietly await the arrival of her future
husband, and avoid all occasion of scandal. My niece was surprised that
her father had not yet received a letter from the young man, and I could
see that she was anxious about it; but I comforted her and assured her
that I would not leave Marseilles till I had danced at her wedding.
I left her to go to Marcoline, whom I longed to press to my heart. I
found her in an ecstasy of joy, and she said that if she could understand
what her maid said her happiness would be complete. I saw that her
situation was a painful one, especially as she was a woman, but for the
present I saw no way out of the difficulty; I should have to get an
Italian-speaking servant, and this would have been a troublesome task.
She wept with joy when I told her that my niece desired to be remembered
to her, and that in a day she would be on her father's hearth. Marcoline
had found out that she was not my real niece when she found her in my
arms.
The choice supper which the old man had procured us, and which spewed he
had a good memory for my favorite tastes, made me think of Rosalie.
Marcoline heard me tell the story with great interest, and said that it
seemed to her that I only went about to make unfortunate girls happy,
provided I found them pretty.
"I almost think you are right," said I; "and it is certain that I have
made many happy, and have never brought misfortune to any girl."
"God will reward you, my dear friend."
"Possibly I am not worth His taking the trouble!"
Though the wit and beauty of Marcoline had charmed me, her appetite
charmed me still more; the reader knows that I have always liked women
who eat heartily. And in Marseilles they make an excellent dish of a
common fowl, which is often so insipid.
Those who like oil will get on capitally in Provence, for it is used in
everything, and it must be confessed that if used in moderation it makes
an excellent relish.
Marcoline was charming in bed. I had not enjoyed the Venetian vices for
nearly eight years, and Marcoline was a beauty before whom Praxiteles
would have bent the knee. I laughed at my brother for having let such a
treasure slip out of his hands, though I quite forgave him for falling in
love with her. I myself could not take her about, and as I wanted her to
be amused I begged my kind old landlord to send her to the play every
day, and to prepare a good supper every evening. I got her some rich
dresses that she might cut a good figure, and this attention redoubled
her affection for me.
The next day, which was the second occasion on which I had visited her,
she told me that she had enjoyed the play though she could not understand
the dialogues; and the day after she astonished me by saying that my
brother had intruded himself into her box, and had said so many
impertinent things that if she had been at Venice she would have boxed
his ears.
"I am afraid," she added, "that the rascal has followed me here, and will
be annoying me."
"Don't be afraid," I answered, "I will see what I can do."
When I got to the hotel I entered the abbe's room, and by Possano's bed I
saw an individual collecting lint and various surgical instruments.
"What's all this? Are you ill?"
"Yes, I have got something which will teach me to be wiser for the
future."
"It's rather late for this kind of thing at sixty."
"Better late than never."
"You are an old fool. You stink of mercury."
"I shall not leave my room."
"This will harm you with the marchioness, who believes you to be the
greatest of adepts, and consequently above such weaknesses."
"Damn the marchioness! Let me be."
The rascal had never talked in this style before. I thought it best to
conceal my anger, and went up to my brother who was in a corner of the
room.
"What do you mean by pestering Marcoline at the theatre yesterday?"
"I went to remind her of her duty, and to warn her that I would not be
her complaisant lover."
"You have insulted me and her too, fool that you are! You owe all to
Marcoline, for if it had not been for her, I should never have given you
a second glance; and yet you behave in this disgraceful manner."
"I have ruined myself for her sake, and I can never shew my face in
Venice again. What right have you to take her from me?"
"The right of love, blockhead, and the right of luck, and the right of
the strongest! How is it that she is happy with me, and does not wish to
leave me?"
"You have dazzled her."
"Another reason is that with you she was dying of misery and hunger."
"Yes, but the end of it will be that you will abandon her as you have
done with many others, whereas I should have married her."
"Married her! You renegade, you seem to forget that you are a priest. I
do not propose to part with her, but if I do I will send her away rich."
"Well, well, do as you please; but still I have the right to speak to her
whenever I like."
"I have forbidden you to do so, and you may trust me when I tell you that
you have spoken to her for the last time."
So saying I went out and called on an advocate. I asked him if I could
have a foreign abbe, who was indebted to me, arrested, although I had no
proof of the debt.
"You can do so, as he is a foreigner, but you will have to pay
caution-money. You can have him put under arrest at his inn, and you can
make him pay unless he is able to prove that he owes you nothing. Is the
sum a large one?"
"Twelve louis."
"You must come with me before the magistrate and deposit twelve louis,
and from that moment you will be able to have him arrested. Where is he
staying?"
"In the same hotel as I am, but I do not wish to have him arrested there,
so I will get him to the 'Ste. Baume,' and put him under arrest. Here are
the twelve louis caution-money, so you can get the magistrate's order,
and we will meet again to-morrow."
"Give me his name, and yours also."
I returned in haste to the "Treize Cantons," and met the abbe, dressed up
to the nines, and just about to go out.
"Follow me," said I, "I am going to take you to Marcoline, and you shall
have an explanation in her presence."
"With pleasure."
He got into a carriage with me, and I told the coachman to take us to the
"Ste. Baume" inn. When we got there, I told him to wait for me, that I
was going to fetch Marcoline, and that I would return with her in a
minute.
I got into the carriage again, and drove to the advocate, who gave the
order for arrest to a policeman, who was to execute it. I then returned
to the "Treize Cantons" and put his belongings into a trunk, and had them
transported to his new abode.
I found him under arrest, and talking to the astonished host, who could
not understand what it was all about. I told the landlord the mythical
history of the abbe debt to me, and handed over the trunk, telling him
that he had nothing to fear with regard to the bill, as I would take care
that he should be well paid.
I then began my talk with the abbe, telling him that he must get ready to
leave Marseilles the next day, and that I would pay for his journey to
Paris; but that if he did not like to do so, I should leave him to his
fate, and in three days he would be expelled from Marseilles. The coward
began to weep and said he would go to Paris.
"You must start for Lyons to-morrow, but you will first write me out an I
O U for twelve louis."
"Why?"
"Because I say so. If you do so I will give you twelve louis and tear up
the document before your face."
"I have no choice in the matter."
"You are right."
When he had written the I O U, I went to take a place in the diligence
for him, and the next morning I went with the advocate to withdraw the
arrest and to take back the twelve louis, which I gave to my brother in
the diligence, with a letter to M. Bono, whom I warned not to give him
any money, and to send him on to Paris by the same diligence. I then tore
up his note of hand, and wished him a pleasant journey.
Thus I got rid of this foolish fellow, whom I saw again in Paris in a
month's time.
The day I had my brother arrested and before I went to dine with Madame
d'Urfe I had an interview with Possano in the hope of discovering the
reason of his ill humour.
"The reason is," said he, "that I am sure you are going to lay hands on
twenty or thirty thousand crowns in gold and diamonds, which the
marchioness meant me to have."
"That may be, but it is not for you to know anything about it. I may tell
you that it rests entirely with me to prevent your getting anything. If
you think you can succeed go to the marchioness and make your complaints
to her. I will do nothing to prevent you."
"Then you think I am going to help you in your imposture for nothing; you
are very much mistaken. I want a thousand louis, and I will have it,
too."
"Then get somebody to give it you," said I; and I turned my back on him.
I went up to the marchioness and told her that dinner was ready, and that
we should dine alone, as I had been obliged to send the abbe away.
"He was an idiot; but how about Querilinthos?"
"After dinner Paralis will tell us all about him. I have strong
suspicions that there is something to be cleared up."
"So have I. The man seems changed. Where is he?"
"He is in bed, ill of a disease which I dare not so much as name to you."
"That is a very extraordinary circumstance; I have never heard of such a
thing before. It must be the work of an evil genius."
"I have never heard of such a thing, either; but now let us dine. We
shall have to work hard to-day at the consecration of the tin."
"All the better. We must offer an expiatory sacrifice to Oromasis, for,
awful thought! in three days he would have to regenerate me, and the
operation would be performed in that condition."
"Let us eat now," I repeated; "I fear lest the hour of Jupiter be
over-past."
"Fear nothing, I will see that all goes well."
After the consecration of the tin had been performed, I transferred that
of Oromasis to another day, while I consulted the oracle assiduously, the
marchioness translating the figures into letters. The oracle declared
that seven salamanders had transported the true Querilinthos to the Milky
Way, and that the man in the next room was the evil genius, St. Germain,
who had been put in that fearful condition by a female gnome, who had
intended to make him the executioner of Semiramis, who was to die of the
dreadful malady before her term had expired. The oracle also said that
Semiramis should leave to Payaliseus Galtinardus (myself) all the charge
of getting rid of the evil genius, St. Germain; and that she was not to
doubt concerning her regeneration, since the word would be sent me by the
true Querilinthos from the Milky Way on the seventh night of my worship
of the moon. Finally the oracle declared that I was to embrace Semiramis
two days before the end of the ceremonies, after an Undine had purified
us by bathing us in the room where we were.
I had thus undertaken to regenerate the worthy Semiramis, and I began to
think how I could carry out my undertaking without putting myself to
shame. The marchioness was handsome but old, and I feared lest I should
be unable to perform the great act. I was thirty-eight, and I began to
feel age stealing on me. The Undine, whom I was to obtain of the moon,
was none other than Marcoline, who was to give me the necessary
generative vigour by the sight of her beauty and by the contact of her
hands. The reader will see how I made her come down from heaven.
I received a note from Madame Audibert which made me call on her before
paying my visit to Marcoline. As soon as I came in she told me joyously
that my niece's father had just received a letter from the father of the
Genoese, asking the hand of his daughter for his only son, who had been
introduced to her by the Chevalier de Seingalt, her uncle, at the
Paretti's.
"The worthy man thinks himself under great obligations to you," said
Madame Audibert. "He adores his daughter, and he knows you have cared for
her like a father. His daughter has drawn your portrait in very
favourable colors, and he would be extremely pleased to make your
acquaintance. Tell me when you can sup with me; the father will be here
to meet you, though unaccompanied by his daughter."
"I am delighted at what you tell me, for the young man's esteem for his
future wife will only be augmented when he finds that I am her father's
friend. I cannot come to supper, however; I will be here at six and stop
till eight."
As the lady left the choice of the day with me I fixed the day after
next, and then I repaired to my fair Venetian, to whom I told my news,
and how I had managed to get rid of the abbe.
On the day after next, just as we were sitting down to dinner, the
marchioness smilingly gave me a letter which Possano had written her in
bad but perfectly intelligible French. He had filled eight pages in his
endeavour to convince her that I was deceiving her, and to make sure he
told the whole story without concealing any circumstance to my
disadvantage. He added that I had brought two girls with me to
Marseilles; and though he did not know where I had hidden them, he was
sure that it was with them that I spent my nights.
After I had read the whole letter through, with the utmost coolness I
gave it back to her, asking her if she had had the patience to read it
through. She replied that she had run through it, but that she could not
make it out at all, as the evil genius seemed to write a sort of
outlandish dialect, which she did not care to puzzle herself over, as he
could only have written down lies calculated to lead her astray at the
most important moment of her life. I was much pleased with the
marchioness's prudence, for it was important that she should have no
suspicions about the Undine, the sight and the touch of whom were
necessary to me in the great work I was about to undertake.
After dining, and discharging all the ceremonies and oracles which were
necessary to calm the soul of my poor victim, I went to a banker and got
a bill of a hundred louis on Lyons, to the order of M. Bono, and I
advised him of what I had done, requesting him to cash it for Possano if
it were presented on the day named thereon.
I then wrote the advice for Possano to take with him, it ran as follows:
"M. Bonno, pay to M. Possano, on sight, to himself, and not to order, the
sum of one hundred louis, if these presents are delivered to you on the
30th day of April, in the year 1763; and after the day aforesaid my order
to become null and void."
With this letter in my hand I went to the traitor who had been lanced an
hour before.
"You're an infamous traitor," I began, "but as Madame d'Urfe knows of the
disgraceful state you are in she would not so much as read your letter. I
have read it, and by way of reward I give you two alternatives which you
must decide on immediately. I am in a hurry. You will either go to the
hospital--for we can't have pestiferous fellows like you here--or start
for Lyons in an hour. You must not stop on the way, for I have only given
you sixty hours, which is ample to do forty posts in. As soon as you get
to Lyons present this to M. Bono, and he will give you a hundred louis.
This is a present from me, and afterwards I don't care what you do, as
you are no longer in my service. You can have the carriage I bought for
you at Antibes, and there is twenty-five louis for the journey: that is
all. Make your choice, but I warn you that if you go to the hospital I
shall only give you a month's wages, as I dismiss you from my service now
at this instant."
After a moment's reflection he said he would go to Lyons, though it would
be at the risk of his life, for he was very ill.
"You must reap the reward of your treachery," said I, "and if you die it
will be a good thing for your family, who will come in for what I have
given you, but not what I should have given you if you had been a
faithful servant."
I then left him and told Clairmont to pack up his trunk. I warned the
inn-keeper of his departure and told him to get the post horses ready as
soon as possible.
I then gave Clairmont the letter to Bono and twenty-five Louis, for him
to hand them over to Possano when he was in the carriage and ready to go
off.
When I had thus successfully accomplished my designs by means of the
all-powerful lever, gold, which I knew how to lavish in time of need, I
was once more free for my amours. I wanted to instruct the fair
Marcoline, with whom I grew more in love every day. She kept telling me
that her happiness would be complete if she knew French, and if she had
the slightest hope that I would take her to England with me.
I had never flattered her that my love would go as far as that, but yet I
could not help feeling sad at the thought of parting from a being who
seemed made to taste voluptuous pleasures, and to communicate them with
tenfold intensity to the man of her choice. She was delighted to hear
that I had got rid of my two odious companions, and begged me to take her
to the theatre, "for," said she, "everybody is asking who and what I am,
and my landlord's niece is quite angry with me because I will not let her
tell the truth."
I promised I would take her out in the course of the next week, but that
for the present I had a most important affair on hand, in which I had
need of her assistance.
"I will do whatever you wish, dearest."
"Very good! then listen to me. I will get you a disguise which will make
you look like a smart footman, and in that costume you will call on the
marchioness with whom I live, at the hour I shall name to you, and you
will give her a note. Have you sufficient courage for that?"
"Certainly. Will you be there?"
"Yes. She will speak, but you must pretend to be dumb, as the note you
bring with you will tell us; as also that you have come to wait upon us
while we are bathing. She will accept the offer, and when she tells you
to undress her from head to foot you will do so. When you have done,
undress yourself, and gently rub the marchioness from the feet to the
waist, but not higher. In the meanwhile I shall have taken off my
clothes, and while I hold her in a close embrace you must stand so that I
can see all your charms.
"Further, sweetheart, when I leave you you must gently wash her
generative organs, and afterwards wipe them with a fine towel. Then do
the same to me, and try to bring me to life again. I shall proceed to
embrace the marchioness a second time, and when it is over wash her again
and embrace her, and then come and embrace me and kiss in your Venetian
manner the instrument with which the sacrifice is consummated. I shall
then clasp the marchioness to my arms a third time, and you must caress
us till the act is complete. Finally, you will wash us for the third
time, then dress, take what she gives you and come here, where I will
meet you in the course of an hour."
"You may reckon on my following all your instructions, but you must see
that the task will be rather trying to my feelings."
"Not more trying than to mine. I could do nothing with the old woman if
you were not present."
"Is she very old?"
"Nearly seventy."
"My poor sweetheart! I do pity you. But after this painful duty is over
you must sup here and sleep with me."
"Certainly."
On the day appointed I had a long and friendly interview with the father
of my late niece. I told him all about his daughter, only suppressing the
history of our own amours, which were not suitable for a father's ears.
The worthy man embraced me again and again, calling me his benefactor,
and saying that I had done more for his daughter than he would have done
himself, which in a sense was perhaps true. He told me that he had
received another letter from the father, and a letter from the young man
himself, who wrote in the most tender and respectful manner possible.
"He doesn't ask anything about the dower," said he, "a wonderful thing
these days, but I will give her a hundred and fifty thousand francs, for
the marriage is an excellent one, above all after my poor simpleton's
escape. All Marseilles knows the father of her future husband, and
to-morrow I mean to tell the whole story to my wife, and I am sure she
will forgive the poor girl as I have done."
I had to promise to be present at the wedding, which was to be at Madame
Audibert's. That lady knowing me to be very fond of play, and there being
a good deal of play going on at her house, wondered why she did not see
more of me; but I was at Marseilles to create and not to destroy: there
is a time for everything.
I had a green velvet jacket made for Marcoline, with breeches of the same
and silver-lace garters, green silk stockings, and fine leather shoes of
the same colour. Her fine black hair was confined in a net of green silk,
with a silver brooch. In this dress the voluptuous and well-rounded form
of Marcoline was displayed to so much advantage, that if she had shewn
herself in the street all Marseilles would have run after her, for, in
spite of her man's dress, anybody could see that she was a girl. I took
her to my rooms in her ordinary costume, to shew her where she would have
to hide after the operation was over.
By Saturday we had finished all the consecrations, and the oracle fixed
the regeneration of Semiramis for the following Tuesday, in the hours of
the sun, Venus, and Mercury, which follow each other in the planetary
system of the magicians, as also in Ptolemy's. These hours were in
ordinary parlance the ninth, tenth, and eleventh of the day, since the
day being a Tuesday, the first hour was sacred to Mars. And as at the
beginning of May the hours are sixty-five minutes long, the reader,
however little of a magician he may be, will understand that I had to
perform the great work on Madame d'Urfe, beginning at half-past two and
ending at five minutes to six. I had taken plenty of time, as I expected
I should have great need of it.
On the Monday night, at the hour of the moon, I had taken Madame d'Urfe
to the sea-shore, Clairmont following behind with the box containing the
offerings, which weighed fifty pounds.
I was certain that nobody could see us, and I told my companion that the
time was come. I told Clairmont to put down the box beside us, and to go
and await us at the carriage. When we were alone we addressed a solemn
prayer to Selenis, and then to the great satisfaction of the marchioness
the box was consigned to the address. My satisfaction however was still
greater than hers, for the box contained fifty pounds of lead. The real
box, containing the treasure, was comfortably hidden in my room.
When we got back to the "Treize Cantons," I left Madame d'Urfe alone,
telling her that I would return to the hotel when I had performed my
conjurations to the moon, at the same hour and in the same place in which
I had performed the seven consecrations.
I spoke the truth. I went to Marcoline, and while she was putting on her
disguise I wrote on a sheet of white paper, in large and odd-looking
letters, the following sentences, using, instead of ink, rock-alum:
"I am dumb but not deaf. I am come from the Rhone to bathe you. The hour
of Oromasis has begun."
"This is the note you are to give to the marchioness," I said, "when you
appear before her."
After supper we walked to the hotel and got in without anyone seeing us.
I hid Marcoline in a large cupboard, and then putting on my dressing-gown
I went to the marchioness to inform her that Selenis had fixed the next
day for the hour of regeneration, and that we must be careful to finish
before the hour of the moon began, as otherwise the operation would be
annulled or at least greatly enfeebled.
"You must take care," I added, "that the bath be here beside your bed,
and that Brougnole does not interrupt us."
"I will tell her to go out. But Selenis promised to send an Undine."
"True, but I have not yet seen such a being."
"Ask the oracle."
"Willingly."
She herself asked the question imploring Paralis not to delay the time of
her regeneration, even though the Undine were lacking, since she could
very well bathe herself.
"The commands of Oromasis change not," came the reply; "and in that you
have doubted them you have sinned."
At this the marchioness arose and performed an expiatory sacrifice, and
it appeared, on consulting the oracle, that Oromasis was satisfied.
The old lady did not move my pity so much as my laughter. She solemnly
embraced me and said,--
"To-morrow, Galtinardus, you will be my spouse and my father." When I got
back to my room and had shut the door, I drew the Undine out of her place
of concealment. She undressed, and as she knew that I should be obliged
to husband my forces, she turned her back on me, and we passed the night
without giving each other a single kiss, for a spark would have set us
all ablaze.
Next morning, before summoning Clairmont, I gave her her breakfast, and
then replaced her in the cupboard. Later on, I gave her her instructions
over again, telling her to do everything with calm precision, a cheerful
face, and, above all, silence.
"Don't be afraid," said she, "I will make no mistakes."
As we were to dine at noon exactly, I went to look for the marchioness,
but she was not in her room, though the bath was there, and the bed which
was to be our altar was prepared.
A few moments after, the marchioness came out of her dressing-room,
exquisitely painted, her hair arranged with the choicest lace, and
looking radiant. Her breasts, which forty years before had been the
fairest in all France, were covered with a lace shawl, her dress was of
the antique kind, but of extremely rich material, her ear-rings were
emeralds, and a necklace of seven aquamarines of the finest water, from
which hung an enormous emerald, surrounded by twenty brilliants, each
weighing a carat and a half, completed her costume. She wore on her
finger the carbuncle which she thought worth a million francs, but which
was really only a splendid imitation.
Seeing Semiramis thus decked out for the sacrifice, I thought it my
bounden duty to offer her my homage. I would have knelt before her and
kissed her hand, but she would not let me, and instead opened her arms
and strained me to her breast.
After telling Brougnole that she could go out till six o'clock, we talked
over our mysteries till the dinner was brought in.
Clairmont was the only person privileged to see us at dinner, at which
Semiramis would only eat fish. At half-past one I told Clairmont I was
not at home to anyone, and giving him a louis I told him to go and amuse
himself till the evening.
The marchioness began to be uneasy, and I pretended to be so, too. I
looked at my watch, calculated how the planetary hours were proceeding,
and said from time to time,--
"We are still in the hour of Mars, that of the sun has not yet
commenced."
At last the time-piece struck half-past two, and in two minutes
afterwards the fair and smiling Undine was seen advancing into the room.
She came along with measured steps, and knelt before Madame d'Urfe, and
gave her the paper she carried. Seeing that I did not rise, the
marchioness remained seated, but she raised the spirit with a gracious
air and took the paper from her. She was surprised, however, to find that
it was all white.
I hastened to give her a pen to consult the oracle on the subject, and
after I had made a pyramid of her question, she interpreted it and found
the answer:
"That which is written in water must be read in water."
"I understand now," said she, and going to the bath she plunged the paper
into it, and then read in still whiter letters: "I am dumb, but not deaf.
I am come from the Rhone to bathe you. The hour of Oromasis has begun."
"Then bathe me, divine being," said Semiramis, putting down the paper and
sitting on the bed.
With perfect exactitude Marcoline undressed the marchioness, and
delicately placed her feet in the water, and then, in a twinkling she had
undressed herself, and was in the bath, beside Madame d'Urfe. What a
contrast there was between the two bodies; but the sight of the one
kindled the flame which the other was to quench.
As I gazed on the beautiful girl, I, too, undressed, and when I was ready
to take off my shirt I spoke as follows: "O divine being, wipe the feet
of Semiramis, and be the witness of my union with her, to the glory of
the immortal Horomadis, King of the Salamanders."
Scarcely had I uttered my prayer when it was granted, and I consummated
my first union with Semiramis, gazing on the charms of Marcoline, which I
had never seen to such advantage before.
Semiramis had been handsome, but she was then what I am now, and without
the Undine the operation would have failed. Nevertheless, Semiramis was
affectionate, clean, and sweet in every respect, and had nothing
disgusting about her, so I succeeded.
When the milk had been poured forth upon the altar, I said,--
"We must now await the hour of Venus."
The Undine performed the ablutions, embraced the bride, and came to
perform the same office for me.
Semiramis was in an ecstasy of happiness, and as she pointed out to me
the beauties of the Undine I was obliged to confess that I had never seen
any mortal woman to be compared to her in beauty. Semiramis grew excited
by so voluptuous a sight, and when the hour of Venus began I proceeded to
the second assault, which would be the severest, as the hour was of
sixty-five minutes. I worked for half an hour, steaming with
perspiration, and tiring Semiramis, without being able to come to the
point. Still I was ashamed to trick her. She, the victim, wiped the drops
of sweat from my forehead, while the Undine, seeing my exhaustion,
kindled anew the flame which the contact of that aged body had destroyed.
Towards the end of the hour, as I was exhausted and still unsuccessful, I
was obliged to deceive her by making use of those movements which are
incidental to success. As I went out of the battle with all the signs of
my strength still about me, Semiramis could have no doubts as to the
reality of my success, and even the Undine was deceived when she came to
wash me. But the third hour had come, and we were obliged to satisfy
Mercury. We spent a quarter of the time in the bath, while the Undine
delighted Semiramis by caresses which would have delighted the regent of
France, if he had ever known of them. The good marchioness, believing
these endearments to be peculiar to river spirits, was pleased with
everything, and begged the Undine to shew me the same kindness. Marcoline
obeyed, and lavished on me all the resources of the Venetian school of
love. She was a perfect Lesbian, and her caresses having soon restored me
to all my vigour I was encouraged to undertake to satisfy Mercury. I
proceeded to the work, but alas! it was all in vain. I saw how my
fruitless efforts vexed the Undine, and perceiving that Madame d'Urfe had
had enough, I again took the course of deceiving her by pretended
ecstacies and movements, followed by complete rest. Semiramis afterwards
told me that my exertions shewed that I was something more than mortal.
I threw myself into the bath, and underwent my third ablution, then I
dressed. Marcoline washed the marchioness and proceeded to clothe her,
and did so with such a graceful charm that Madame d'Urfe followed the
inspiration of her good genius, and threw her magnificent necklace over
the Undine's neck. After a parting Venetian kiss she vanished, and went
to her hiding place in the cupboard.
Semiramis asked the oracle if the operation had been successful. The
answer was that she bore within her the seed of the sun, and that in the
beginning of next February she would be brought to bed of another self of
the same sex as the creator; but in order that the evil genii might not
be able to do her any harm she must keep quiet in her bed for a hundred
and seven hours in succession.
The worthy marchioness was delighted to receive this order, and looked
upon it as a good omen, for I had tired her dreadfully. I kissed her,
saying that I was going to the country to collect together what remained
of the substances that I had used in my ceremonies, but I promised to
dine with her on the morrow.
I shut myself up in my room with the Undine, and we amused ourselves as
best we could till it was night, for she could not go out while it was
light in her spiritual costume. I took off my handsome wedding garment,
and as soon as it was dusk we crept out, and went away to Marcoline's
lodging in a hackney coach, carrying with us the planetary offerings
which I had gained so cleverly.
We were dying of hunger, but the delicious supper which was waiting for
us brought us to life again. As soon as we got into the room Marcoline
took off her green clothes and put on her woman's dress, saying,--
"I was not born to wear the breeches. Here, take the beautiful necklace
the madwoman gave me!"
"I will sell it, fair Undine, and you shall have the proceeds."
"Is it worth much?"
"At least a thousand sequins. By the time you get back to Venice you will
be worth at least five thousand ducats, and you will be able to get a
husband and live with him in a comfortable style."
"Keep it all, I don't want it; I want you. I will never cease to love
you; I will do whatever you tell me, and I promise never to be jealous. I
will care for you--yes, as if you were my son."
"Do not let us say anything more about it, fair Marcoline, but let us go
to bed, for you have never inspired me with so much ardour as now."
"But you must be tired."
"Yes, but not exhaustion, for I was only able to perform the distillation
once."
"I thought you sacrificed twice on that old altar. Poor old woman! she is
still pretty, and I have no doubt that fifty years ago she was one of the
first beauties in France. How foolish of her to be thinking of love at
that age."
"You excited me, but she undid your work even more quickly."
"Are you always obliged to have--a girl beside you when you make love to
her?"
"No; before, there was no question of making a son."
"What? you are going to make her pregnant? That's ridiculous! Does she
imagine that she has conceived?"
"Certainly; and the hope makes her happy."
"What a mad idea! But why did you try to do it three times?"
"I thought to shew my strength, and that if I gazed on you I should not
fail; but I was quite mistaken."
"I pity you for having suffered so much."
"You will renew my strength."
As a matter of fact, I do not know whether to attribute it to the
difference between the old and the young, but I spent a most delicious
night with the beautiful Venetian--a night which I can only compare to
those I passed at Parma with Henriette, and at Muran with the beautiful
nun. I spent fourteen hours in bed, of which four at least were devoted
to expiating the insult I had offered to love. When I had dressed and
taken my chocolate I told Marcoline to dress herself with elegance, and
to expect me in the evening just before the play began. I could see that
she was intensely delighted with the prospect.
I found Madame d'Urfe in bed, dressed with care and in the fashion of a
young bride, and with a smile of satisfaction on her face which I had
never remarked there before.
"To thee, beloved Galtinardus, I owe all my happiness," said she, as she
embraced me.
"I am happy to have contributed to it, divine Semiramis, but you must
remember I am only the agent of the genii."
Thereupon the marchioness began to argue in the most sensible manner, but
unfortunately the foundation of her argument was wholly chimerical.
"Marry me," said she; "you will then be able to be governor of the child,
who will be your son. In this manner you will keep all my property for
me, including what I shall have from my brother M. de Pontcarre, who is
old and cannot live much longer. If you do not care for me in February
next, when I shall be born again, into what hands shall I fall! I shall
be called a bastard, and my income of twenty-four thousand francs will be
lost to me. Think over it, dear Galtinardus. I must tell you that I feel
already as if I were a man. I confess I am in love with the Undine, and I
should like to know whether I shall be able to sleep with her in fourteen
or fifteen years time. I shall be so if Oromasis will it, and then I
shall be happy indeed. What a charming creature she is? Have you ever
seen a woman like her? What a pity she is dumb!"
"She, no doubt, has a male water-spirit for a lover. But all of them are
dumb, since it is impossible to speak in the water. I wonder she is not
deaf as well. I can't think why you didn't touch her. The softness of her
skin is something wonderful--velvet and satin are not to be compared to
it! And then her breath is so sweet! How delighted I should be if I could
converse with such an exquisite being."
"Dear Galtinardus, I beg you will consult the oracle to find out where I
am to be brought to bed, and if you won't marry me I think I had better
save all I have that I may have some provision when I am born again, for
when I am born I shall know nothing, and money will be wanted to educate
me. By selling the whole a large sum might be realized which could be put
out at interest. Thus the interest would suffice without the capital
being touched."
"The oracle must be our guide," said I. "You will be my son, and I will
never allow anyone to call you a bastard."
The sublime madwoman was quiet by this assurance.
Doubtless many a reader will say that if I had been an honest man I
should have undeceived her, but I cannot agree with them; it would have
been impossible, and I confess that even if it had been possible I would
not have done so, for it would only have made me unhappy.
I had told Marcoline to dress with elegance, and I put on one of my
handsomest suits to accompany her to the theatre. Chance brought the two
sisters Rangoni, daughters of the Roman consul, into our box. As I had
made their acquaintance on my first visit to Marseilles, I introduced
Marcoline to them as my niece, who only spoke Italian. As the two young
ladies spoke the tongue of Tasso also, Marcoline was highly delighted.
The younger sister, who was by far the handsomer of the two, afterwards
became the wife of Prince Gonzaga Solferino. The prince was a cultured
man, and even a genius, but very poor. For all that he was a true son of
Gonzaga, being a son of Leopold, who was also poor, and a girl of the
Medini family, sister to the Medini who died in prison at London in the
year 1787.
Babet Rangoni, though poor, deserved to become a princess, for she had
all the airs and manners of one. She shines under her name of Rangoni
amongst the princess and princesses of the almanacs. Her vain husband is
delighted at his wife being thought to belong to the illustrious family
of Medini--an innocent feeling, which does neither good nor harm. The
same publications turn Medini into Medici, which is equally harmless.
This species of lie arises from the idiotic pride of the nobles who think
themselves raised above the rest of humanity by their titles which they
have often acquired by some act of baseness. It is of no use interfering
with them on this point, since all things are finally appreciated at
their true value, and the pride of the nobility is easily discounted when
one sees them as they really are.
Prince Gonzaga Solferino, whom I saw at Venice eighteen years ago, lived
on a pension allowed him by the empress. I hope the late emperor did not
deprive him of it, as it was well deserved by this genius and his
knowledge of literature.
At the play Marcoline did nothing but chatter with Babet Rangoni, who
wanted me to bring the fair Venetian to see her, but I had my own reasons
for not doing so.
I was thinking how I could send Madame d'Urfe to Lyons, for I had no
further use for her at Marseilles, and she was often embarrassing. For
instance, on the third day after her regeneration, she requested me to
ask Paralis where she was to die--that is, to be brought to bed. I made
the oracle reply that she must sacrifice to the water-spirits on the
banks of two rivers, at the same hour, and that afterwards the question
of her lying-in would be resolved. The oracle added that I must perform
three expiatory sacrifices to Saturn, on account of my too harsh
treatment of the false Querilinthos, and that Semiramis need not take
part in these ceremonies, though she herself must perform the sacrifices
to the water-spirits.
As I was pretending to think of a place where two rivers were
sufficiently near to each other to fulfil the requirements of the oracle,
Semiramis herself suggested that Lyons was watered by the Rhone and the
Saone, and that it would be an excellent place for the ceremony. As may
be imagined, I immediately agreed with her. On asking Paralis if there
were any preparations to be made, he replied that it Would be necessary
to pour a bottle of sea-water into each river a fortnight before the
sacrifice, and that this ceremony was to be performed by Semiramis in
person, at the first diurnal hour of the moon.
"Then," said the marchioness, "the bottles must be filled here, for the
other French ports are farther off. I will go as soon as ever I can leave
my bed, and will wait for you at Lyons; for as you have to perform
expiatory sacrifices to Saturn in this place, you cannot come with me."
I assented, pretending sorrow at not being able to accompany her. The
next morning I brought her two well-sealed bottles of sea-water, telling
her that she was to pour them out into the two rivers on the 15th of May
(the current month). We fixed her departure for the 11th, and I promised
to rejoin her before the expiration of the fortnight. I gave her the
hours of the moon in writing, and also directions for the journey.
As soon as the marchioness had gone I left the "Treize Cantons" and went
to live with Marcoline, giving her four hundred and sixty louis, which,
with the hundred and forty she had won at biribi, gave her a total of six
hundred louis, or fourteen thousand four hundred francs. With this sum
she could look the future in the face fearlessly.
The day after Madame d'Urfe's departure, the betrothed of Mdlle. Crosin
arrived at Marseilles with a letter from Rosalie, which he handed to me
on the day of his arrival. She begged me in the name of our common honour
to introduce the bearer in person to the father of the betrothed. Rosalie
was right, but as the lady was not my real niece there were some
difficulties in the way. I welcomed the young man and told him that I
would first take him to Madame Audibert, and that we could then go
together to his father-in-law in prospective.
The young Genoese had gone to the "Treize Cantons," where he thought I
was staying. He was delighted to find himself so near the goal of his
desires, and his ecstacy received a new momentum when he saw how
cordially Madame Audibert received him. We all got into my carriage and
drove to the father's who gave him an excellent reception, and then
presented him to his wife, who was already friendly disposed towards him.
I was pleasantly surprised when this good and sensible man introduced me
to his wife as his cousin, the Chevalier de Seingalt, who had taken such
care of their daughter. The good wife and good mother, her husband's
worthy partner, stretched out her hand to me, and all my trouble was
over.
My new cousin immediately sent an express messenger to his sister,
telling her that he and his wife, his future son-in-law, Madame Audibert,
and a cousin she had not met before, would come and dine with her on the
following day. This done he invited us, and Madame Audibert said that she
would escort us. She told him that I had another niece with me, of whom
his daughter was very fond, and would be delighted to see again. The
worthy man was overjoyed to be able to increase his daughter's happiness.
I, too, was pleased with Madame Audibert's tact and thoughtfulness; and
as making Marcoline happy was to make me happy also, I expressed my
gratitude to her in very warm terms.
I took the young Genoese to the play, to Marcoline's delight, for she
would have liked the French very much if she could have understood them.
We had an excellent supper together, in the course of which I told
Marcoline of the pleasure which awaited her on the morrow. I thought she
would have gone wild with joy.
The next day we were at Madame Audibert's as punctually as Achilles on
the field of battle. The lady spoke Italian well, and was charmed with
Marcoline, reproaching me for not having introduced her before. At eleven
we got to St. Louis, and my eyes were charmed with the dramatic
situation. My late niece had an air of dignity which became her to
admiration, and received her future husband with great graciousness; and
then, after thanking me with a pleasant smile for introducing him to her
father, she passed from dignity to gaiety, and gave her sweetheart a
hundred kisses.
The dinner was delicious, and passed off merrily; but I alone preserved a
tender melancholy, though I laughed to myself when they asked me why I
was sad. I was thought to be sad because I did not talk in my usual
vivacious manner, but far from being really sad that was one of the
happiest moments of my life. My whole being was absorbed in the calm
delight which follows a good action. I was the author of the comedy which
promised such a happy ending. I was pleased with the thought that my
influence in the world was more for good than for ill, and though I was
not born a king yet I contrived to make many people happy. Everyone at
table was indebted to me for some part of their happiness, and the
father, the mother, and the betrothed pair wholly so. This thought made
me feel a peaceful calm which I could only enjoy in silence.
Mdlle. Crosin returned to Marseilles with her father, her mother, and her
future husband, whom the father wished to take up his abode with them. I
went back with Madame Audibert, who made me promise to bring the
delightful Marcoline to sup with her.
The marriage depended on the receipt of a letter from the young man's
father, in answer to one from my niece's father. It will be taken for
granted that we were all asked to the wedding, and Marcoline's affection
for me increased every day.
When we went to sup with Madame Audibert we found a rich and witty young
wine merchant at her house. He sat beside Marcoline, who entertained him
with her sallies; and as the young man could speak Italian, and even the
Venetian dialect (for he had spent a year at Venice), he was much
impressed by the charms of my new niece.
I have always been jealous of my mistresses; but when a rival promises to
marry them and give them a good establishment, jealousy gives way to a
more generous feeling. For the moment I satisfied myself by asking Madame
Audibert who he was, and I was delighted to hear that he had an excellent
reputation, a hundred thousand crowns, a large business, and complete
independence.
The next day he came to see us in our box at the theatre, and Marcoline
received him very graciously. Wishing to push the matter on I asked him
to sup with us, and when he came I was well pleased with his manners and
his intelligence; to Marcoline he was tender but respectful. On his
departure I told him I hoped he would come and see us again, and when we
were alone I congratulated Marcoline on her conquest, and shewed her that
she might succeed almost as well as Mdlle. Crosin. But instead of being
grateful she was furiously, angry.
"If you want to get rid of me," said she, "send me back to Venice, but
don't talk to me about marrying."
"Calm yourself, my angel! I get rid of you? What an idea! Has my
behaviour led you to suppose that you are in my way? This handsome,
well-educated, and rich young man has come under my notice. I see he
loves you and you like him, and as I love you and wish to see you
sheltered from the storms of fortune, and as I think this pleasant young
Frenchman would make you happy, I have pointed out to you these
advantages, but instead of being grateful you scold me. Do not weep,
sweetheart, you grieve my very soul!"
"I am weeping because you think that I can love him."
"It might be so, dearest, and without my honour taking any hurt; but let
us say no more about it and get into bed."
Marcoline's tears changed to smiles and kisses, and we said no more about
the young wine merchant. The next day he came to our box again, but the
scene had changed; she was polite but reserved, and I dared not ask him
to supper as I had done the night before. When we had got home Marcoline
thanked me for not doing so, adding that she had been afraid I would.
"What you said last night is a sufficient guide for me for the future."
In the morning Madame Audibert called on behalf of the wine merchant to
ask us to sup with him. I turned towards the fair Venetian, and guessing
my thoughts she hastened to reply that she would be happy to go anywhere
in company with Madame Audibert. That lady came for us in the evening,
and took us to the young man's house, where we found a magnificent
supper, but no other guests awaiting us. The house was luxuriously
furnished, it only lacked a mistress. The master divided his attention
between the two ladies, and Marcoline looked ravishing. Everything
convinced me that she had kindled the ardour of the worthy young wine
merchant.
The next day I received a note from Madame Audibert, asking me to call on
her. When I went I found she wanted to give my consent to the marriage of
Marcoline with her friend.
"The proposal is a very agreeable one to me," I answered, "and I would
willingly give her thirty thousand francs as a dowry, but I can have
nothing to do with the matter personally. I will send her to you; and if
you can win her over you may count on my word, but do not say that you
are speaking on my behalf, for that might spoil everything."
"I will come for her, and if you like she shall dine with me, and you can
take her to the play in the evening."
Madame Audibert came the following day, and Marcoline went to dinner with
her. I called for her at five o'clock, and finding her looking pleased
and happy I did not know what to think. As Madame Audibert did not take
me aside I stifled my curiosity and went with Marcoline to the theatre,
without knowing what had passed.
On the way Marcoline sang the praises of Madame Audibert, but did not say
a word of the proposal she must have made to her. About the middle of the
piece, however, I thought I saw the explanation of the riddle, for the
young man was in the pit, and did not come to our box though there were
two empty places.
We returned home without a word about the merchant or Madame Audibert,
but as I knew in my own mind what had happened, I felt disposed to be
grateful, and I saw that Marcoline was overjoyed to find me more
affectionate than ever. At last, amidst our amorous assaults, Marcoline,
feeling how dearly I loved her, told me what had passed between her and
Madame Audibert.
"She spoke to me so kindly and so sensibly," said she, "but I contented
myself with saying that I would never marry till you told me to do so.
All the same I thank you with all my heart for the ten thousand crowns
you are willing to give me. You have tossed the ball to me and I have
sent it back. I will go back to Venice whenever you please if you will
not take me to England with you, but I will never marry. I expect we
shall see no more of the young gentleman, though if I had never met you I
might have loved him."
It was evidently all over, and I liked her for the part she had taken,
for a man who knows his own worth is not likely to sigh long at the feet
of an obdurate lady.
The wedding-day of my late niece came round. Marcoline was there, without
diamonds, but clad in a rich dress which set off her beauty and satisfied
my vanity.