You Like It_, you gave to certain passages in your part a special
intonation that emphasized their meaning, and urged me, in some sense,
to declare myself.--I fancied that I could see in your eyes and your
smile gracious promises of indulgent treatment, and could feel your
hand respond to the pressure of mine.--If I am mistaken--O God! that is
a contingency on which I dare not reflect.--Encouraged by all that, and
impelled by my love, I have written to you, for the garb you wear is
not propitious to such avowals in words, and a thousand times my voice
has died upon my lips; although I believe, yes, was firmly convinced
that I was speaking to a woman, that masculine costume frightened away
all my tender, amorous thoughts, and prevented them from winging their
way to you.
I implore you, Rosalind, if you do not love me yet, try to love me, who
have loved you in spite of everything, beneath the veil in which you
enveloped yourself, through pity for us, I doubt not; do not condemn
me for the rest of my life to the most frightful despair and hopeless
discouragement; consider that I have adored you since the first ray of
thought shone in upon my brain, that you were revealed to me before I
saw you, and that, when I was a little fellow, you appeared to me in
a dream with a crown of dew-drops, two rain-bow-like wings, and the
tiny blue flower in your hand; that you are the end, the means and the
meaning of my life; that, without you, I am nothing but a vain shadow,
and that, if you breathe upon the flame you have kindled, naught will
remain of me but a pinch of dust, finer and more impalpable than that
which is sprinkled upon the wings of Death itself.--Rosalind, do you,
who have so many receipts for the cure of love, cure me, for I am very
sick; play your part to the end, lay aside the garb of the fair page
Ganymede, and extend your white hand to the youngest son of the gallant
knight, Sir Rowland des Bois.
XIV
I was at my window busily watching the stars that bloomed joyously in
the garden of the sky, and inhaling the sweet perfume of the mirabilis
wafted to my nostrils by a dying breeze.--The wind blowing through
the open window had extinguished my lamp, the last that remained
lighted in the chateau. My thoughts degenerated into vague musing,
and a sort of drowsiness began to steal over me; I remained, however,
with my elbows resting on the stone balustrade, either because I was
fascinated by the charm of the night, or through indifference and
forgetfulness.--Rosette, seeing that my lamp was out, and being unable
to distinguish my form because of a great wedge of shadow that fell
exactly upon the window, had concluded, I presume, that I had gone to
bed, and that was what she was waiting for, to risk one last, desperate
attempt.--She opened the door so softly that I did not hear her come
in, and she was within two steps of me before I discovered her. She
was tremendously surprised to find me still up; but she soon recovered
from her astonishment, came to me and grasped my arm, calling me twice
by my name:--"Théodore, Théodore!"
"What! you, Rosette, here, at this hour, all alone, without a light, in
such complete _déshabillé!_"
I must tell you that she had nothing on but a _peignoir_ of the finest
linen, and the glorious lace-trimmed chemise which I did not choose to
see on the day of the famous scene in the little kiosk in the park. Her
arms, as cold and smooth as marble, were entirely bare, and the garment
that covered her body was so clinging and transparent that you could
see her nipples through it, as in the statues of bathers covered with
damp drapery.
"Do you mean that for a reproach, Théodore? or is it simply an
exclamation? Yes, I, Rosette, _la belle dame_, here in your bedroom,
not in my own where I should be, at eleven o'clock at night, perhaps
midnight, without duenna or chaperone or maid, almost naked, in a
simple night _peignoir_;--that is very surprising, is it not?--I am as
surprised as you, and I hardly know what explanation to give you."
As she spoke, she put one arm around my body and sank down on the foot
of my bed in such a way as to drag me with her.
"Rosette," I said to her, struggling to release myself, "I will try to
light the lamp; nothing is so depressing as a dark room; and then, it
is downright murder not to be able to see when you are here, and so be
deprived of the sight of your charms.--Allow me, with the help of a bit
of tinder and a match, to make a little portable sun which will put in
relief all that the jealous darkness blots out beneath its shadow."
"It isn't worthwhile; I prefer that you should not see my blushes; I
feel that my cheeks are burning hot, for it is quite enough to make me
die of shame."
She put her face against my breast and remained some moments so, as if
suffocated by her emotion.
Meanwhile, I was mechanically running my fingers through the long
floating curls of her hair; I was cudgelling my brain in search of some
honorable means of extricating myself from the scrape, but I could find
none, for I was driven into my last entrenchments, and Rosette seemed
firmly resolved not to leave the room as she had entered it.--There was
a formidable negligence about her dress which promised nothing good.
I had on an open _robe-de-chambre_ myself, which would have defended
my _incognito_ but feebly, so that I was disturbed beyond measure
concerning the result of the battle.
"Listen to me, Théodore," said Rosette, standing up and throwing the
hair back from both sides of her face, as well as I could judge by the
feeble light which the stars and a very slender crescent moon, just
appearing above the horizon, cast into the room, the window being still
open;--"this is a strange step I have taken; everybody would blame me
for it.--But you are going away soon, and I love you! I cannot let
you go thus without having an explanation with you.--Perhaps you will
never come back; perhaps this is the first and last time that I am to
see you.--Who knows where you will go? But wherever you go you will
carry my heart and my life with you.--If you had remained, I should
not have resorted to this extreme measure. The happiness I felt on
seeing you, of listening to your voice, of living beside you, would
have been enough for me; I would have asked for nothing more. I would
have confined my love in my heart; you would have thought that you
had simply a kind and affectionate friend in me; but that cannot be.
You say that you absolutely must go.--It bores you, Théodore, to see
me clinging to your footsteps like an amorous shadow which can only
follow you, but would like to be blended with your body; it must annoy
you always to find behind you imploring eyes and hands stretched out
to grasp the hem of your cloak.--I know it, but I cannot refrain from
doing it.--You cannot complain, however; it is your fault.--I was calm,
peaceful, almost happy before I knew you.--You appeared, handsome,
young, and smiling, like Phœbus, the charming god.--You paid me most
marked, most gallant attention; never was cavalier more courteous and
clever. Rubies and roses fell from your lips every moment; everything
became for you an opportunity to turn a compliment, and you knew how
to transform the most insignificant words into charming flattery.--A
woman who had hated you mortally at first, would have ended by loving
you, and for my part, I loved you the moment I saw you. Why, having
made yourself so agreeable, do you seem surprised to be so loved? Isn't
it a perfectly natural consequence? I am neither mad nor empty-headed,
nor a romantic child who falls in love with the first sword she sees.
I have seen society, and I know what life is. Any woman, even the
most virtuous or the most prudish, would have done as much as I am
doing.--What was your idea or your purpose? to please me, I imagine,
for I cannot attribute any other to you. How does it happen, then, that
you seem in some measure sorry because you have succeeded so well?
Have I unintentionally done anything to displease you?--I ask your
pardon.--Do you no longer think me beautiful, or have you discovered in
me some defect that repels you?--You have the right to be exacting in
the matter of beauty, but either you have lied outrageously, or I am
beautiful!--I am young like yourself and I love you; why do you disdain
me now? You used to be so attentive to me, you held my arm with such
unfailing solicitude, you pressed so tenderly the hand I abandoned to
you, your eyes were so languorous when you raised them to mine: if you
did not love me, why all that manœuvring? Can it be that you are cruel
enough to kindle love in a heart in order to laugh at it afterward? Ah!
that would be a ghastly joke, impious and sacrilegious! only a wicked
soul could be amused by it, and I cannot believe it of you, however
inexplicable your conduct toward me. What is the cause, then, of this
sudden change? As for me, I can imagine none.--What mystery is hidden
by such coldness?--I cannot believe that you feel repugnance for me;
what you have done proves that you do not, for a man does not pay court
so earnestly to a woman for whom he has a feeling of disgust, though
he were the greatest scoundrel on earth. O Théodore, what have you
against me? what has changed you so? what have I done to you?--If the
love you seemed to have for me has vanished, mine, alas! has remained,
and I cannot tear it from my heart.--Have pity on me, Théodore, for
I am very unhappy.--At least pretend to love me a little, and say a
few kind words to me; they will not cost you much, unless you have an
insurmountable horror of me."
At that pathetic point in her discourse, sobs completely choked her
voice; she clasped her hands on my shoulder and rested her forehead
upon them in an attitude of utter despair. All that she said was
absolutely true, and I had nothing to say in reply.--I could not treat
the matter as a jest. That would not have been decent.--Rosette was
not one of the creatures one can treat so lightly; besides, I was too
deeply touched to be able to do it. I felt guilty for having thus made
a plaything of a charming woman's heart, and I was seized with the
deepest and most sincere remorse.
Seeing that I made no reply, the dear child drew a long breath and made
a movement as if to rise, but she fell back, crushed by her emotion;
then she threw her arms about me--I could feel their cool touch through
my doublet--laid her face against mine and began to weep silently.
It produced a strange effect upon me to feel that exhaustless
current of tears that did not flow from my own eyes, rolling down my
cheeks.--Mine were soon mingling with them, and there was a veritable
rain of bitter tears, violent enough to cause another deluge, if it had
lasted forty days.
At that instant the moon shone fairly on the window; a pale beam shot
into the room and cast a bluish gleam upon our silent group.
With her white _peignoir_, her bare arms, her uncovered throat and
breast, of almost the same color as the linen, her dishevelled hair and
her sorrowful expression, Rosette had the aspect of an alabaster figure
of Melancholy sitting on a tomb. As for myself, I have no very clear
idea what I may have looked like, as I could not see myself and there
was no mirror to reflect my image, but I fancy that I might very well
have posed for a statue of Uncertainty personified.
I was moved, and I bestowed upon Rosette a caress or two rather more
affectionate than usual; from her hair my hand descended to her velvety
neck and thence to her round, smooth shoulder which I patted softly as
I followed its shivering contour. The child quivered under my touch
like a harpsichord under a musician's fingers; her flesh shuddered and
leaped, and amorous thrills ran all over her body.
I myself was conscious of a sort of vague, confused desire, the object
of which I could not make out, and I took a keen delight in running my
hand over those pure, delicate lines.--I left her shoulder, and, taking
advantage of an opening in the folds of her _peignoir_, I suddenly
closed my hand upon her little, frightened breast, which palpitated
madly like a turtle-dove surprised in its nest;--from the extreme
edge of her cheek, upon which I breathed a hardly perceptible kiss,
I arrived at her half-open mouth: we remained in that position for
some time.--Upon my word, I have no idea whether it was two minutes
or a quarter of an hour or an hour; for I had lost all idea of time,
and I did not know whether I was in heaven or on earth, here or
elsewhere, dead or alive. The heady wine of lust had so intoxicated me
at the first mouthful I swallowed, that all the reason I possessed
had fled.--Rosette wound her arms more and more tightly about me and
enveloped me with her body; she leaned convulsively toward me and
pressed me against her bare, palpitating breast; at every kiss all her
life seemed to rush to the spot kissed and to abandon the rest of her
person.--Strange ideas passed through my head; if I had not feared
to betray my _incognito_, I would have given full scope to Rosette's
passionate impulses, and perhaps I should have made some vain, mad
attempt to impart a semblance of reality to the shadow of pleasure
which my beautiful lover embraced so ardently; I had not yet had a
lover; and those fierce attacks, those reiterated caresses, the touch
of that lovely body, those sweet names drowned in kisses, excited me to
the last degree--although they proceeded from a woman;--and then that
nocturnal visit, that romantic passion, the moonlight, all had for me
the refreshing charm of novelty, and made me forget that, after all, I
was not a man.
However, making a great effort to control myself, I told Rosette that
she was compromising herself terribly by coming to my room at such
an hour and remaining there so long, that her women might notice her
absence and see that she had not passed the night in her own room.
I said this in such a mild tone that Rosette's only reply was to let
her _peignoir_ and slippers fall to the floor and glide into my bed
like a snake into a bowl of milk; for she fancied that my clothes alone
prevented me from coming to more definite demonstrations, and that they
were the only obstacle that held me back.
She believed, poor child, that the happy hour, so laboriously led up
to, was about to strike for her; but the clock struck two instead.--I
was in a most critical position, when suddenly the door turned on its
hinges and gave passage to the Chevalier Alcibiades in person; he held
a candlestick in one hand and his sword in the other.
He went straight to the bed and threw back the clothes, and, putting
the light under poor, speechless Rosette's nose, said to her in a
bantering tone:--"Good-morning, sister." Little Rosette had not the
strength to say a word in reply.
"So it seems, my very dear and most virtuous sister, that, having
considered in your wisdom that Seigneur Théodore's bed was more downy
than your own, you came here to sleep in it? or perhaps there are
ghosts in your room and you thought that you would be safer here,
under the protection of the aforesaid seigneur?--It is very well
thought of.--Aha! Monsieur le Chevalier de Sérannes, you have made
soft eyes at Madame our sister, and you think that will be the end of
it.--In my opinion, it would not be unhealthy for us to slash at each
other a little, and if you would oblige me to that extent I should be
infinitely grateful to you.--Théodore, you have abused my friendship
for you, and you make me repent the good opinion I formed at first of
the loyalty of your character; this is bad, very bad."
I could not defend myself in any valid way; appearances were against
me. Who would have believed me if I had said, as the fact was, that
Rosette had come to my room against my will, and that, far from trying
to attract her, I was doing all I possibly could to turn her away from
me.--There was but one thing for me to say, and I said it:--"Seigneur
Alcibiades, we will slash at each other all you wish."
During this colloquy, Rosette had not failed to faint according to the
most approved rules of the pathetic;--I went to a goblet filled with
water which contained a great white rose, half withered, and I threw a
few drops on her face, which restored her to consciousness at once.
Not knowing just what to do, she vanished in the passage beside the bed
and buried her pretty head in the bedclothes, like a bird preparing to
sleep.--She had piled cushions and clothes about her so that it would
have been very hard to discover what was under the heap; a musical sigh
that issued therefrom, now and then, was the only thing that denoted
that it was naught but a repentant young sinner, or rather one who was
excessively annoyed to be a sinner in intention only, not in fact:
which was the unfortunate Rosette's plight.
Monsieur the brother, having no further anxiety concerning his sister,
resumed the dialogue, and said to me in the sweetest of tones:--"It
is not absolutely indispensable for us to cut each other's throats on
the spot; that is an extreme method to which there is always time to
resort.--Listen:--The game is not equal between us. You are very young
and much less strong than I; if we should fight, I should kill you or
maim you at the very least--and I am not anxious either to kill or
disfigure you--it would be a great pity; Rosette, who is down there
under the clothes and hasn't a word to say, would bear me a grudge for
it all her life; for she is as unforgiving and wicked as a tigress when
she puts her mind to it, the dear little dove. You, who are her Prince
Galaor and receive only sweet words from her, know nothing about that;
but it isn't pleasant. Rosette is free, so are you; it seems that you
are not irreconcilable enemies; her widowhood is at an end and the
thing turns out as well as possible. Marry her; she will not need to
go back to her own room to sleep, and in that way, you see, I shall
be relieved of the necessity of taking you for a sheath for my sword,
which would be agreeable to neither of us;--what do you say?"
I must have made a horrible grimace, for what he proposed was of all
things in the world the most impossible of execution by me; I would
rather have crawled on all fours on the ceiling like the flies, or have
unhooked the sun from the sky without taking anything to stand on, than
do what he asked me, and yet the last proposition was incontestably
more agreeable than the first.
He seemed surprised that I did not accept with transports of delight,
and he repeated what he had said, as if to give me time to reply.
"An alliance with you would be most honorable for me, and I should
never have dared to aspire to it; I know that it is an unheard-of
good fortune for a young man who has as yet no position or footing in
society, and that the most illustrious men would esteem themselves
very fortunate;--but I can only persist in my refusal, and as I am free
to choose between marriage and a duel, I prefer the duel.--It is a
strange choice, and one which few people would make--but it is mine."
At that point Rosette uttered the most heart-broken sigh you can
imagine, put her head out from behind the pillow, and instantly drew
it back again, like a snail when you strike its horns, when she saw my
impassive and determined countenance.
"It is not that I do not love Madame Rosette, I love her very dearly;
but I have reasons for not marrying, reasons which you would consider
satisfactory if it were possible for me to tell you what they
are.--By the way, matters have not gone as far as you might judge
from appearances; beyond a kiss or two which a very warm friendship
is sufficient to explain and justify, there is nothing between us to
which exception can be taken, and your sister's virtue is as pure and
unsullied as virtue can be.--I owe her that testimony.--Now, when shall
we fight, Monsieur Alcibiades, and where?"
"Here, and instantly!" cried Alcibiades, drunk with rage.
"Can you think of such a thing? before Rosette!"
"Draw your sword, villain, or I will murder you," he continued,
brandishing his sword and whirling it around his head.
"At least, let us go out of the room."
"If you don't stand on guard, I will nail you to the wall like a bat,
my handsome Celadon, and you will flap your wings in vain, for you
won't release yourself, I warn you."--And he rushed at me with his
sword in the air.
[Illustration: Chapter XIV--_Rosette made a superhuman effort to throw
herself between our swords, for both combatants were equally dear
to her; but her strength failed her and she fell unconscious across
the foot of the bed. Our blades struck fire, and made a noise like a
hammer striking an anvil, for the small space we had at our disposals
compelled us to fight at very close quarters._]
I drew my rapier, for he would have done as he said, and contented
myself at first with parrying the thrusts he aimed at me.
Rosette made a superhuman effort to throw herself between our swords,
for both combatants were equally dear to her; but her strength failed
her and she fell unconscious across the foot of the bed.
Our blades struck fire, and made a noise like a hammer striking an
anvil, for the small space we had at our disposals compelled us to
fight at very close quarters.
Alcibiades came very near wounding me two or three times, and if I had
not been a most expert fencer, my life would have been in the greatest
danger; for his address was quite astonishing and his strength
prodigious. He exhausted all the ruses and feints of the trade trying
to touch me. Furious at his failure, he uncovered himself two or three
times; I declined to take advantage of the opportunity; but he returned
to the charge with such desperate, savage fury that I was forced to
make the most of such openings as he gave me; and then the clashing of
the steel and the whirl of sparks excited and dazzled me. I did not
think of death, I was not in the least afraid; that keen, deadly blade
that flashed in front of my eyes every second had no more effect on me
than if we had been fighting with buttoned foils; but I was, however,
indignant at Alcibiades's brutality, and my consciousness of perfect
innocence increased my indignation. I determined just to prick him in
the arm or shoulder so as to make him drop his sword, for I had tried
in vain to knock it out of his hand.--He had a wrist of iron, and the
devil himself could not have turned it.
At last he came at me with such a sharp, well-directed thrust that I
could only half parry it; it passed through my sleeve, and I felt the
cold steel against my arm; but I was not wounded. At that I became
really angry, and instead of defending myself I assumed the offensive
in my turn;--I forgot that he was Rosette's brother, and I rushed at
him as if he were my mortal enemy. Taking advantage of a false position
of his sword, I delivered a thrust in _quarte_ so well directed that I
pierced his side; he made an exclamation and fell back.
I thought that he was dead, but he was really only wounded, and his
fall was caused by a misstep which he made in trying to parry.--I
cannot describe the sensation I felt, Graciosa; certainly it is not
difficult to understand that, if you stick a fine, sharp point into
the flesh, you will make a hole and blood will flow from it. And yet
I was stupefied when I saw the red stream trickling down Alcibiades's
doublet.--Of course I did not imagine that bran would come out, as
it does when you burst open a doll; but I know that I never was so
surprised in my life, and it seemed to me as if something incredible
had happened to me.
The incredible thing was not, as it seemed to me, that blood should
flow from a wound, but that the wound should have been made by me, and
that a girl of my age--I was going to write a young man, I have entered
so fully into the spirit of my part--should have laid low a lusty
captain, an expert in fencing, like Seigneur Alcibiades;--and all for
the crime of seduction and refusing to marry a very rich woman, and a
very charming one too!
I was really in a state of cruel embarrassment with the fainting
sister, the wounded brother whom I believed to be dead, and I myself,
who was not far from being dead or fainting, like one or the other
of them.--I seized the bell-rope and I jangled the bell in a way to
wake the dead, so long as the rope remained in my hand; and leaving to
the unconscious Rosette and the disemboweled Alcibiades the duty of
explaining matters to the servants and the old aunt, I went straight
to the stable.--The air restored my self-possession instantly; I led
out my horse, saddled and bridled him myself, made sure that the straps
were all right, the curb in good condition, and the stirrup leathers of
the same length, and took up a hole in the girth; in short, I harnessed
him completely, with a care that was at least remarkable at such a
moment, and a tranquillity that was almost inconceivable after a combat
with such an ending.