The Nobleman and Other Romances by Isabelle de Charriere

Author:Isabelle de Charriere [de Charrière, Isabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101577271
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2012-03-27T00:00:00+00:00

Letter XII.

The Vicomte des Fossés to Germaine.

From a vile inn, April 25, 1793

Will this letter escape the Argus-eyed surveillance? I do hope so. Sometimes they sleep and at other points their blunders or general dullness are as good as sleep. Accursed people! They have chased away first an amiable woman of feeling and then a young man, who by her side and yours too was beginning to be reborn into happiness, reason, and virtue—now they are far apart. But, mademoiselle, have I ever been completely dead to virtue? When I first knew you, was I not touched by your charming face? When I dared to tell you how lovely I found you, did I not subside into respectful silence the instant you confided that you loved a deserving young man? Have I betrayed you, distressed you, tried to make you inconstant? Were it possible for the duchess and her worthy cicisbeo to utter anything other than calumnies and black slanders, they would tell you how often I have justified to them what they call your intractable and stubborn humor;44 they would tell you that it was none of my doing that they have offered you in turn a mindless child and a decent Irishman for a husband—the latter, only half understanding our language, would be completely incapable of appreciating you. But were they to give me as much help as they have done me damage, this man and this woman that I hate, there is nothing that they could say which could set me right in your view. How would they be able to realize that there was anything to say? How would they be able to understand how important it is for me? The pleasure of being respected by someone we respect is beyond their understanding—for them there is no vice or virtue; the only good things are a rich marriage, a position at court, advancement in the service, and certain sorts of success in society, and the only evils are absence, want, and the loss of those first things. They are currently reduced to intrigues over nothing, and I, a young man, whom they would barely have deigned to notice when they were caught up in their great whirl, have become worthy of their malevolent attention. Listen, mademoiselle, I am ashamed to say that it is only too true that every time I sang you some feeble ballad or accompanied your pianoforte on the violin, I saw your displeasure, and I, stupid child, I found it amusing; it made me sing and play better. They and I were as ridiculous as each other, only they are wicked, and I am merely a little too vain … no, much too vain, or at least I used to be, and that is what has provided them with the weapons they are now using so cruelly. I don’t really know what there is to say about me, but I judge from how Lady Caroline has proceeded that they have much exaggerated my misdemeanors.

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