The great day arrived when I was to utter that solemn _yes_ which would
bind me forever. Forever is a very long time--it is very short when one
is happy!
At times melancholy thoughts oppressed me. I was not in love with the
woman I was about to marry, and I felt that it was the absence of love
that made us walk so carelessly toward the altar. Love, who charms the
present and embellishes the future, is a god whose presence is most
essential on the wedding day; he ought always to preside on such
occasions. However, I proposed to do without him; indeed, I must, for
whom could I love now? I should have ceased to think of _her_, but I
still thought of her. She did not love me; and if she had loved me,
could I have married her? It would have been madness; but is the madness
which makes one happy so very blameworthy?
I felt tears in my eyes. Was that the proper way to begin that day? It
was my last thought of her. Henceforth I would never think of the past.
I must try to be light-hearted, to be amiable with Pélagie. Amiable! she
would not notice it! But, no matter; I must forget myself.
My sister was the first who entered my room. I fancy that she noticed my
depression; she kissed me and embraced me, and assured me that I should
be very happy.
"God grant it!" I thought. "Thus far I have not been happy in love;
perhaps I shall be in marriage."
I overcame my weakness and was myself once more. Poor Amélie! she was so
pleased when she saw me smile!
By the way, where were my wife and I to live? I had not given that
matter a thought; but I was not at all disturbed, for my sister had
undertaken to look out for everything, and she was not the woman to
forget anything so important. However, I felt that I should be very glad
to know where I was to take my better half that night.
"You haven't told me yet, sister, where I am to live."
"That goes without saying, my dear."
"Nevertheless, you will have to tell me, for I can't guess."
"Has not Madame de Pontchartrain a magnificent house, of which she
occupies only one-half? You are to live there with your wife."
"At her aunt's? I don't like that very much."
"Don't be disturbed; your suite is by itself, and a long way from hers;
you need have nothing to say to each other, except when you please. I
knew, of course, that you would like to be by yourself, and I have had
everything arranged with that end in view."
"All right.--By the way, has Pélagie received all the usual gifts?"
"Yes, my dear; have you forgotten that I showed them to you yesterday
and told you Déneterre had spent three thousand francs out of the money
you gave him?"
"True; it had gone out of my head."
"Pélagie will be enchanted, I assure you. There's a beautiful set of
jewelry--and shawls--and dress materials."
"Very good; so, then, there's nothing for me to do to-day but to get
married?"
"Mon Dieu! that's all, my dear."
"So much the better. What time is it to be?"
"At eleven o'clock you are to call for your wife and take her to the
mayor's office. We shall have two carriages; I have ordered them."
"Two carriages! it seems to me that's very few."
"There are no more to be had in town."
"That makes a difference."
"But this evening we shall have several sedan chairs and Bath chairs."
"Aha! so they have those things here?"
"To be sure; they are very convenient and much less dangerous than your
horse vehicles, which always frighten me."
"It is true that in a Bath chair the steed doesn't take the bit in his
teeth. And from the mayor's office we go to the church?"
"Yes; at one o'clock."
"And then?"
"Then we come back here, and chat until three."
"Where is the wedding feast to be?"
"Here, my dear. At first Madame de Pontchartrain insisted on having it
at her house, but I finally carried the day. We shall be much more free
here, you know. We can laugh and sing and frolic."
"I confess that I shall be delighted to be allowed to frolic. And the
ball is to be here also, I suppose?"
"Oh! no, my dear; the ball is to be at Madame de Pontchartrain's; she
has a superb salon, where three sets can dance a quadrille at once.
Besides, it's more proper at night to be where the bride can
conveniently be put to bed!"
"What's that? put the bride to bed? I fancy that that's my business."
"No, my dear; don't you know that it's the custom for the bride's near
relations to take her to the nuptial chamber and undress her and put her
to bed?"
"You will do me the kindness to abridge all that ceremonial, which I
consider utterly ridiculous, as much as you possibly can. It seems to me
to be the bridegroom's place to undress his wife and put her to bed--or
to postpone putting her to bed if he and she please. They are entirely
at liberty to suit themselves."
"Oh! brother, think of what decency demands!"
"My dear girl, some people are so decent that they end by being
indecent; just as some people are so bright that they end by making
fools of themselves. Extremes meet; too great strictness breeds
debauchery, just as extreme rigidity of morals often ends in their
entire subversion. _Summum jus, summa injuria._ The savages who live in
countries where they are not ruled by civilized man should have pure
morals, since they follow the inspiration of nature; and yet that
extreme purity which leads them to go naked and to conceal nothing from
one another resembles a refinement of libertinage among us. Diogenes,
who wanted to be a wise man, was nothing better than a fool; and Crates,
who considered himself a philosopher, was simply disgusting; and how
many writers there are who, by dint of trying to rise to the sublime,
fall into bathos! and scholars who, while striving to be profound, are
simply ludicrous! and actors who, in their efforts to be natural, appear
absurd! and dancers who fall to the ground because they try to jump too
high! The moral of all this is that we should seek a happy medium in
everything, and that when a husband and wife have complied with the
behests of the law and of religion they should be allowed to go to bed
without having somebody else place them solemnly between two sheets;
which, in my opinion, is better adapted to offend decency than to
gratify it."
"I am very sorry, my dear, but the custom----"
"I tell you, if I were in love with my wife, I would make short work of
this custom! but let us say no more about it; I will submit to whatever
you say."
"Very well; dress yourself and come to breakfast."
I felt that I must dress myself with care; the least one can do is to
try to make himself presentable on his wedding day. Although Pélagie had
said that she would have married me just the same if I had been old and
ugly, I liked to think that she would notice the difference. I was soon
ready; unless he is a conceited fop, a man cannot spend much time over
his toilet, and I did not, like Raymond, reflect for a quarter of an
hour where I should place a pin or how I should arrange the ends of my
cravat. Speaking of my neighbor, I regretted that he was not at Melun;
he would have assumed the duties of best man, and would certainly have
invented something new; but it would probably have resulted to my
disadvantage, so perhaps it was as well that he was not there.
My nephews came jumping and prancing into my room, to tell me that
breakfast was waiting; they were already in their gala costumes, and
were so wild with delight that we could not hear ourselves talk. Happy
age, when the least novelty, the slightest change in the daily habits,
the idea of a party, a wedding, a grand dinner--of anything, in fact,
that suggests confusion and disorder--causes intoxicating delight! We
ought to retain longer the characteristics of childhood.
I found Déneterre in full dress. He came to me, embraced me, pressed my
hand with a satisfied air, and said to me in a half solemn, half comical
tone:
"Well! you're one of us now!"
I looked at him with a smile, and stifled a sigh which would have been a
rude answer to his congratulations.
"Come, let's eat, and eat heartily!" said my brother-in-law, taking his
seat at the table. "You need to lay in some strength to-day, my dear
boy."
So the chapter of jests had begun; but it was likely to be brief in a
small place, where remarks with a double meaning were frowned upon. At
all events, they might say what they pleased; I was determined to accept
everything with a good grace. But I thought it well to follow
Déneterre's advice and eat heartily; that was the best thing for me to
do until night.
"Let us hurry," said Amélie; "it's almost eleven; we mustn't keep your
wife waiting, dear Eugène."
"Of course not; that would not be polite; I am ready to start."
"Come, Déneterre, have you finished?"
"For heaven's sake, give me time to swallow!"
"Oh! how long it takes you to do anything! Do put on the children's
hats!"
"What! are you going to take them to the mayor's office?"
"Certainly."
"That's all folly; it won't amuse them, and they'll crowd the carriage;
it's much better not to take them till we go to the church."
"But I insist on their going now! Do you suppose that I dressed them up
just to leave them at home?"
"But I tell you we can come back and get them in a little while."
"And I tell you that I propose to take them now."
"There won't be any room for them."
"You can hold them on your knees."
"So that they can kick me and soil the ladies' dresses!"
"They'll keep quiet."
"It would be something new!"
"Oh! how you tire me with your arguments!"
"You are a most obstinate creature!"
The clock struck eleven, and I put an end to the discussion by
announcing that I was going; my sister and her husband did the same, and
we took the little boys. I was very sure that that would be the result.
The two carriages were in front of the house; the coachmen wore white
gloves and had huge bouquets. All the neighbors were at their doors or
windows; a wedding in a small town is such a momentous event! it
furnishes a subject of conversation for more than a week.
We took five minutes to go about as far as the length of one of the
shorter boulevards in Paris; the horses were not used to coaches, and
their drivers drove very slowly in order that they might seem to be
starting on a journey. We arrived at last and were shown into the large
salon, where the intimate friends and the distinguished personages
invited to the first ceremony were assembled. I did not see my bride,
and started to go in search of her; but I was detained; I could not be
allowed to enter her bedroom yet.
"She's coming," said Madame de Pontchartrain; "be patient, my dear
Dorsan, you will soon see her."
I had no difficulty in being patient; still, I wished that it was all
over. I was beginning to be deathly tired of the compliments everyone
paid me, to which I soon ceased to be able to reply, because everyone
said the same thing.
At last Pélagie appeared, escorted by her aunt and my sister. Her dress
was magnificent, and her face even prettier than usual. The compliments
began anew. I listened to them now with more pleasure; the presence of a
pretty woman always suggests compliments to me, and I was not displeased
by the admiration my bride aroused.
I hastened forward to take her hand; she kept her eyes fixed on the
floor and seemed to have resolved not to raise them during the day. I
led her toward the door and to the carriage, heedless of the
remonstrances of her aunt and my sister, who called after us:
"That isn't right! wait! wait! It isn't your place to take her hand!
You're disarranging the programme!"
I cared not a whit for the programme. Madame de Pontchartrain almost
lost her temper; my sister calmed her by attributing my heedlessness to
my excessive love. We entered the carriages, which process took nearly
ten minutes, because, in the first place, no one would get in first, and
then no one would take the rear seat. I had to hold myself hard to
refrain from pushing them all into the carriages--the ceremonious
idiots, who stood an hour on the steps! Poor lovers, who marry in the
provinces, how your tempers are tried! At last we were all seated.
Déneterre was compelled to walk with the children, who had already torn
the trimming of three dresses and stained several white satin shoes with
mud. Really, the little rascals were most amusing!
We arrived at the mayor's office. As there is seldom a line of people
waiting to be married in provincial towns, we were not obliged to wait
an hour for our turn. The ceremony was performed quickly enough, and I
was married according to law; there was no drawing back.
To reach the church we had to repeat the same nonsense with respect to
the carriages; it took even longer to arrange the order of march, for
several people had joined us at the mayor's office, and the procession
was swelled by three sedan chairs and two Bath chairs. My wedding had
stirred the town to its centre; the church was filled with people, and
we could scarcely force our way through the crowd. Those who were not of
the wedding party had come to criticise, those who were, to admire; and
the idlers, loiterers, working girls, matrons, and old women, to say
their say concerning the bride and groom.
Everybody knows what a marriage is, for it is easy to procure the
pleasures of marriage in Paris. I will not therefore go into the
details of mine; it resembled others as to form, and several times I
heard some such words as:
"That's a pretty couple; they are both very good-looking."
A body always likes to hear such remarks.
At last the fatal _yes_ was pronounced. Pélagie said it so low that
nobody could have heard her; for my part, I showed much firmness. We had
a sermon preached to us--a little long, perhaps, but very touching and
moving. How can one fail to be moved when one is pledging one's self for
life?--I glanced at Pélagie; she did not weep; her eyes were cast down,
her manner was as reserved, her demeanor as modest as usual, and she
showed no more than her ordinary emotion. That vexed me; it seemed to me
that she should have wept.
At last all was over; I was married! We left the church between three
rows of sightseers, and went to my sister's; we spent three-quarters of
an hour in going the distance of a gunshot; to be sure, our procession
was increased by about half of the town, and we had to return salutes
and courtesies at every step.
When we reached the house, it was only half-past one, and we did not
dine till three. What were we to do in the interval? That was the most
difficult part of the whole day. Some old women proposed a game of
boston or whist, but Madame de Pontchartrain thought that it would be a
breach of etiquette to play cards on a wedding day morning; it is good
form to do nothing; it is amusement enough to talk, sitting very
straight for fear of rumpling one's gown.
Without asking our dear aunt's opinion, I went down into the garden with
my wife. I wanted to entice her into some solitary path; not that I
proposed to exert my marital rights already; but I wanted to try to
read Pélagie's heart and find out what her present feelings were.--It
was impossible to be alone; all the young women followed us; the
inquisitive little hussies would not let us out of their sight. Two
young married people afford so much food for thought! they are so pretty
to look at--when they are pretty; and you know that we were.
I could do nothing more than take my wife's hand; I squeezed it
tenderly--very tenderly--and she looked at me and smiled.--"The deuce!"
thought I; "can it be that she understands that language?"
"You hurt my fingers," she remarked mildly, withdrawing her hand.
It was enough to drive one to despair! I had no further desire to walk
with her alone.
Luckily, the hour for the feast arrived. We betook ourselves, with the
utmost formality, as before, to the dining room; we took our seats in
the order demanded by convention. I was at one end of the table, my wife
at the other; that was the best way to encourage harmony between us; and
then, everyone knew that we should come together at last.
The greatest tranquillity reigned during the early courses; we sat very
straight, watched one another, passed the dishes, ate, and declared
everything divine, exquisite, delicious: that was substantially the
whole of the conversation. I had no desire to enliven it; I was sober,
yes, pensive. Sometimes I glanced at my wife; her eyes were constantly
fixed on her plate. Madame de Pontchartrain's expressed the satisfaction
she felt at the reserved demeanor of the bride and groom; we certainly
could not be charged with acting like two madcaps.
Upon examining the guests, I found that I had at my right a pretty,
vivacious young blonde, with whom I had several times laughed and joked
when we met in society, so far as laughter was permitted in the circles
that we frequented. I began to talk with her by way of distraction, but
she replied with marked coldness, reserve, and brevity. What did that
mean? Mon Dieu! I had forgotten that I was now a _married man_. I was
still inclined to play the gallant with young ladies, but I had lost my
title of bachelor, which was worth a hundred times more in their eyes
than all the pretty speeches I could make them as a Benedick.
However, I was determined to amuse myself at any price. I tried to eat;
but I was not hungry.
"I will drink, then," I said to myself; "but I must take care; a
bridegroom should keep his head clear."
The dessert came at last; our appetites were a little appeased; the wits
of the party began to shine, the jokers to hazard a bonmot or two or a
very sly remark; the young men tried to laugh, and the women did their
utmost to consider it all very amusing. My sister was in ecstasies; she
did her best to encourage this well-intended merriment. As for
Déneterre, he was so busily engaged in carving, and in looking after the
small table at which his children were sitting with six other children,
that he had no time to put in a word.
The dessert and liqueurs increased the general hilarity to the highest
point, augmented as it was by divers little pranks on the part of my
nephews, who knocked over two piles of plates, broke three glasses,
overturned sauce on several ladies' dresses, while coming to the large
table to fetch for themselves things that were promised them but that
did not arrive quickly enough to satisfy them. But they knew that on
such a great day they had carte blanche, and they made the most of it.
Everybody agreed that they were dear little fellows, even the ladies who
would have to change their dresses. Their papa and mamma were
enraptured, which was quite natural.
The signal was given, and we left the table.
"How is this?" I whispered to my sister; "no song?"
"You know very well that it isn't good form nowadays, my dear. Is there
singing at the great weddings in Paris?"
"No; but there is at those where the guests enjoy themselves."
"We stick to custom."
"And the garter?"
"Fie! fie! we have done away with that; it was indecent!"
"Oh! it was indecent, was it? I see that I must not do at my wedding
party or to my wife anything that the most rigid rules of chastity do
not permit. I trust, however, that you have not suppressed anything
else."
"Oh! no, brother! besides, I am sure that to-day you have no desire
to----"
"To what?"
"Why, to----"
"To what, in heaven's name? Finish."
"Why, a desire to--with your wife---- Oh! you know what I mean."
"The deuce! surely you are joking, my dear girl? Do people no longer
marry for that here? is that suppressed, too?"
"No, my dear, no! but a man generally leaves his wife in peace the first
day. The poor child has been so excited!"
"Yes; it is astounding how excited she looks!"
"You must give her time to recover herself."
"Go to the deuce, my dear Amélie, with all your nonsense! What is the
meaning of all this affectation? as if it must not come to that at last!
I don't like this prudery which denotes dissimulation pure and simple. I
know by experience that those who cry scandal the loudest are the ones
who in secret have the least virtue. The modesty of rakes and kept women
is much more easily shocked than that of virtuous men and decent women.
Fans hide more prostitutes than virgins, and veils are worn from
coquetry, not from modesty; in short, those who make so much fuss and
hang back at first are the ones who jump the highest afterward."
"Well, you are free to do as you please, brother."
"That is very fortunate!"
Poor Amélie! how she had changed since she had been living in that
paltry town! So this was the banquet at which we were to laugh so loud
and have so much sport! For my own part--and I have been to many
weddings--I confess that the merriest are those of honest folk who are
not afraid of violating etiquette and the proprieties every moment.
Commend me to the poor people for real enjoyment! But I realized that on
this occasion I must say with the song:
"When we are beggars, then we'll make merry!"
My wife disappeared. Ah, yes! to dress for the ball--that was it. I had
nothing to say against that custom; in any event, I should have been
careful not to say it; I should have had all the young women about my
ears. Two dresses, sometimes three--that was one of the pretty customs
of that day.
We returned to Madame de Pontchartrain's for the ball. It was the first
time that I had ever seen wedding festivities divided between two
places; but I found that I learned many things at Melun.
We assembled in the salon, which was lighted by candelabra that must
have done duty in the time of King Pepin le Bref. The guests invited for
the ball arrived in a swarm; no one ever dreams of missing a fête in a
small town. The bride appeared in her ball dress, which was in very good
taste. I looked at her, but her eyes were still _in statu quo_. I
ventured to say to her, under my breath:
"Do lift your eyes a little; you have such lovely eyes!"
"Aunt told me not to."
That was all I could extort from her. I had nothing to say to that; it
would have been ill-advised for me to play the master so soon.
The orchestra began to play; we had two violins and a clarinet; also a
little fifer, to imitate Colinet; it was superb--at all events, it was
the best that could be had in the town. They played contradances that I
had never heard in Paris. I surmised that they were composed by the
leader of the local orchestra; it was impossible to make the mistake of
confusing them with those of Rubner, Weber, and Tolbecque.
There was plenty of dancing; and in that amusement the pleasure was not
feigned, for youth loves to caper. The young men disputed with one
another the privilege of dancing with the bride, who was always engaged
for fourteen or fifteen quadrilles ahead. The groom's turn never comes
on such occasions; but on his wedding day he is easily consoled, and a
thing that would have distressed him terribly the day before makes no
difference to him when he is married. How a title changes one's way of
feeling and of looking at things!
I too danced; I was very glad to have that resource to occupy my time,
and I was as persistent as my wife.
"Do take a little rest," some young man would say to me; "you'll tire
yourself out."
But I paid no heed, for I thought less than they did of what I still had
to do.
Toward the end of the evening, however, I danced with Pélagie; the ball
had warmed her up a little: her cheeks were flushed and her bosom rose
and fell more rapidly; she was really very pretty, and I ought to have
deemed myself very lucky to possess so many charms. I began to look at
my watch and to think that the time passed very slowly.
But it was growing late, and many people had already taken leave. It was
one o'clock in the morning! a big slice taken off the night. Madame de
Pontchartrain made a sign to my sister, and they led my wife away. I
divined the meaning of that, and I waited until I might be allowed to
join Pélagie.
The ceremony seemed to me very long! Not until three-quarters of an hour
had passed did Amélie return and motion to me that at last I was at
liberty to go to my wife.
All the guests departed; I did the same; fleeing from the jests that
bored me to death, I left the ballroom and bent my steps toward the wing
which I was to occupy thenceforth.
I was directed to my bedroom; I had been careful to take a light,
otherwise I should have broken my neck in some of the innumerable rooms
of that old house, and the time would have been very ill chosen for an
accident. I saw a light--that must be the place. I opened a door and
entered a very handsome bedroom, furnished somewhat _à l'antique,_ but
provided with everything. Two wax candles were burning on the mantel; I
recognized several articles of mine on a table, for my sister had taken
pains to have all my wardrobe transported to my new abode. I was at
home; so far, so good. To make sure of not being disturbed, I bolted the
door, then walked toward the bed, the curtains of which were drawn--from
bashfulness, of course.
I heard no sound. Could she be asleep already? or was she pretending to
be? I drew the curtains aside, and I saw no one in the bed, which had
not been disturbed.
What did that mean? I was certainly in my apartment--everything that I
found there proved it. In that case, where could my wife be? Did it mean
that we were to have a bedroom each? Why, of course; and that was why
they hoped that I would leave my wife in peace. "The devil take them
with their nonsensical customs!" thought I.--If I had only known it
sooner! However, I wanted my wife; I was determined to have her, I must
have her. I had not married a pretty doll who never opened her mouth and
kept her eyes on the ground all day to be alone at night and occupy a
separate bed; the least I could expect was some little compensation for
the ennui I had suffered.--I would sleep with my wife--that was my
resolution--even though I must turn the whole house upside down to
attain that end.
I reflected first of all that my wife's room could not be far from mine.
I concluded to try to find it, and to avoid making a noise if possible;
for that would cause scandal in the household of Madame de
Pontchartrain, who thought perhaps that I had married her niece to
obtain the right to make love to her at those innocent parlor games.
I looked about and discovered a door which I had not noticed at first. I
took a candle, opened the door, and found myself in a fine salon. That
was very well; I continued my inspection of my suite. There was a door
facing me; where did that lead? Into a dining room. Another door opened
into a passageway; I went on and found a toilet room freshly painted;
all very pleasant, but not what I was looking for at that moment.
I returned to the salon. Whither did that other door lead? To my wife's
room, no doubt; since I had been prowling about the salon as if I were
playing hide-and-seek, I must have passed it many times. I tried to open
it by turning the knob, but it resisted; it was locked on the inside. No
more doubt: my wife was there, and had been advised to lock herself in.
Ah! what sly creatures they were in that country!