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The Duchesse de Langeais-Part11_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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insatiable hands. Wherever Mme de Langeais went, M. de



Montriveau was certain to be seen, till people jokingly called

him "Her Grace's orderly." And already he had made enemies;



others were jealous, and envied him his position. Mme de

Langeais had attained her end. The Marquis de Montriveau was



among her numerous train of adorers, and a means of humiliating

those who boasted of their progress in her good graces, for she



publicly gave him preference over them all.

"Decidedly, M. de Montriveau is the man for whom the Duchess



shows a preference," pronounced Mme de Serizy.

And who in Paris does not know what it means when a woman "shows



a preference?" All went on therefore according to prescribed

rule. The anecdotes which people were pleased to circulate



concerning the General put that warrior in so formidable a light,

that the more adroit quietly dropped their pretensions to the



Duchess, and remained in her train merely to turn the position to

account, and to use her name and personality to make better terms



for themselves with certain stars of the second magnitude. And

those lesser powers were delighted to take a lover away from Mme



de Langeais. The Duchess was keen-sighted enough to see these

desertions and treaties with the enemy; and her pride would not



suffer her to be the dupe of them. As M. de Talleyrand, one of

her great admirers, said, she knew how to take a second edition



of revenge, laying the two-edged blade of a sarcasm between the

pairs in these "morganatic" unions. Her mocking disdain



contributed not a little to increase her reputation as an

extremely clever woman and a person to be feared. Her character



for virtue was consolidated while she amused herself with other

people's secrets, and kept her own to herself. Yet, after two



months of assiduities, she saw with a vague dread in the depths

of her soul that M. de Montriveau understood nothing of the



subtleties of flirtation after the manner of the Faubourg

Saint-Germain; he was taking a Parisienne's coquetry in earnest.



"You will not tame HIM, dear Duchess," the old Vidame de

Pamiers had said. " 'Tis a first cousin to the eagle; he will



carry you off to his eyrie if you do not take care."

Then Mme de Langeais felt afraid. The shrewd old noble's words



sounded like a prophecy. The next day she tried to turn love to

hate. She was harsh, exacting, irritable, unbearable; Montriveau



disarmed her with angelicsweetness. She so little knew the

great generosity of a large nature, that the kindly jests with



which her first complaints were met went to her heart. She

sought a quarrel, and found proofs of affection. She persisted.



"When a man idolises you, how can he have vexed you?" asked

Armand.



"You do not vex me," she answered, suddenly grown gentle and

submissive. "But why do you wish to compromise me? For me you



ought to be nothing but a FRIEND. Do you not know it? I wish I

could see that you had the instincts, the delicacy of real



friendship, so that I might lose neither your respect nor the

pleasure that your presence gives me."



"Nothing but your FRIEND!" he cried out. The terrible word

sent an electric shock through his brain. "On the faith of



these happy hours that you grant me, I sleep and wake in your

heart. And now today, for no reason, you are pleased to destroy



all the secret hopes by which I live. You have required promises

of such constancy in me, you have said so much of your horror of



women made up of nothing but caprice; and now do you wish me to

understand that, like other women here in Paris, you have



passions, and know nothing of love? If so, why did you ask my

life of me? why did you accept it?"



"I was wrong, my friend. Oh, it is wrong of a woman to yield to

such intoxication when she must not and cannot make any return."



"I understand. You have merely been coquetting with me,

and----"



"Coquetting?" she repeated. "I detest coquetry. A coquette

Armand, makes promises to many, and gives herself to none; and a



woman who keeps such promises is a libertine. This much I

believed I had grasped of our code. But to be melancholy with



humorists, gay with the frivolous, and politic with ambitious

souls; to listen to a babbler with every appearance of






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