_TO THE READER_
It was in the winter of 1830 and three hundred leagues from Paris that
this tale was written; thus it contains no allusion to the events of
1839.
Many years before 1830, at the time when our Armies were overrunning
Europe, chance put me in possession of a billeting order on the house of
a Canon: this was at Padua, a charming town in Italy; my stay being
prolonged, we became friends.
Passing through Padua again towards the end of 1830, I hastened to the
house of the good Canon: he himself was dead, that I knew, but I wished
to see once again the room in which we had passed so many pleasant
evenings, evenings on which I had often looked back since. I found there
the Canon's nephew and his wife who welcomed me like an old friend.
Several people came in, and we did not break up until a very late hour;
the nephew sent out to the Caffè Pedrocchi for an excellent _zabaione_.
What more than anything kept us up was the story of the Duchessa
Sanseverina, to which someone made an allusion, and which the nephew was
good enough to relate from beginning to end, in my honour.
"In the place to which I am going," I told my friends, "I am not likely
to find evenings like this, and, to while away the long hours of
darkness, I shall make a novel out of your story."
"In that case," said the nephew, "let me give you my uncle's journal,
which, under the heading Parma, mentions several of the intrigues of
that court, in the days when the Duchessa's word was law there; but,
have a care! this story is anything but moral, and now that you pride
yourselves in France on your gospel purity, it may win you the
reputation of an _assassin_."
I publish this tale without any alteration from the manuscript of 1830,
a course which may have two drawbacks:
The first for the reader: the characters being Italians will perhaps
interest him less, hearts in that country differing considerably from
hearts in France: the Italians are sincere, honest folk and, not taking
offence, say what is in their minds; it is only when the mood seizes
them that they shew any vanity; which then becomes passion, and goes by
the name of _puntiglio_. Lastly, poverty is not, with them, a subject
for ridicule.
The second drawback concerns the author.
I confess that I have been so bold as to leave my characters with their
natural asperities; but, on the other hand--this I proclaim aloud--I
heap the most moral censure upon many of their actions. To what purpose
should I give them the exalted morality and other graces of French
characters, who love money above all things, and sin scarcely ever from
motives of hatred or love? The Italians in this tale are almost the
opposite. Besides, it seems to me that, whenever one takes a stride of
two hundred leagues from South to North, the change of scene that occurs
is tantamount to a fresh tale. The Canon's charming niece had known and
indeed had been greatly devoted to the Duchessa Sanseverina, and begs me
to alter nothing in her adventures, which are reprehensible.
23rd January, 1839.
THE CHARTERHOUSE
OF PARMA