beatrix-第18部分

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more　dangerous　for　a　woman。　If　she　follows　them；　they　lead　her　where
you　see　me；　and　where　the　marquise　came；to　the　verge　of　abysses。　Men
alone　have　the　staff　on　which　to　lean　as　they　skirt　those　precipices；
a　force　which　is　lacking　to　most　women；　but　which；　if　we　do　possess
it；　makes　abnormal　beings　of　us。　Her　old　grandmother；　the　dowager　de
Casteran；　was　well　pleased　to　see　her　marry　a　man　to　whom　she　was
superior　in　every　way。　The　Rochefides　were　equally　satisfied　with　the
Casterans；　who　connected　them　with　the　Verneuils；　the　d'Esgrignons；
the　Troisvilles；　and　gave　them　a　peerage　for　their　son　in　that　last
big　batch　of　peers　made　by　Charles　X。；　but　revoked　by　the　revolution
of　July。　The　first　days　of　marriage　are　perilous　for　little　minds　as
well　as　for　great　loves。　Rochefide；　being　a　fool；　mistook　his　wife's
ignorance　for　coldness；　he　classed　her　among　frigid；　lymphatic　women；
and　made　that　an　excuse　to　return　to　his　bachelor　life；　relying　on　the
coldness　of　the　marquise；　her　pride；　and　the　thousand　barriers　that
the　life　of　a　great　lady　sets　up　about　a　woman　in　Paris。　You'll　know
what　I　mean　when　you　go　there。　People　said　to　Rochefide：　'You　are　very
lucky　to　possess　a　cold　wife　who　will　never　have　any　but　head
passions。　She　will　always　be　content　if　she　can　shine；　her　fancies　are
purely　artistic；　her　desires　will　be　satisfied　if　she　can　make　a
salon；　and　collect　about　her　distinguished　minds；　her　debauches　will
be　in　music　and　her　orgies　literary。'　Rochefide；　however；　is　not　an
ordinary　fool；　he　has　as　much　conceit　and　vanity　as　a　clever　man；
which　gives　him　a　mean　and　squinting　jealousy；　brutal　when　it　comes　to
the　surface；　lurking　and　cowardly　for　six　months；　and　murderous　the
seventh。　He　thought　he　was　deceiving　his　wife；　and　yet　he　feared　her；
two　causes　for　tyranny　when　the　day　came　on　which　the　marquise　let
him　see　that　she　was　charitably　assuming　indifference　to　his
unfaithfulness。　I　analyze　all　this　in　order　to　explain　her　conduct。
Beatrix　had　the　keenest　admiration　for　me；　there　is　but　one　step；
however；　from　admiration　to　jealousy。　I　have　one　of　the　most
remarkable　salons　in　Paris；　she　wished　to　make　herself　another；　and　in
order　to　do　so　she　attempted　to　draw　away　my　circle。　I　don't　know　how
to　keep　those　who　wish　to　leave　me。　She　obtained　the　superficial
people　who　are　friends　with　every　one　from　mere　want　of　occupation；
and　whose　object　is　to　get　out　of　a　salon　as　soon　as　they　have　entered
it；　but　she　did　not　have　time　to　make　herself　a　real　society。　In　those
days　I　thought　her　consumed　with　a　desire　for　celebrity　of　one　kind　or
another。　Nevertheless；　she　has　really　much　grandeur　of　soul；　a　regal
pride；　distinct　ideas；　and　a　marvellous　facility　for　apprehending　and
understanding　all　things；　she　can　talk　metaphysics　and　music；　theology
and　painting。　You　will　see　her；　as　a　mature　woman；　what　the　rest　of　us
saw　her　as　a　bride。　And　yet　there　is　something　of　affectation　about
her　in　all　this。　She　has　too　much　the　air　of　knowing　abstruse　things；
Chinese；　Hebrew；　hieroglyphics　perhaps；　or　the　papyrus　that　they
wrapped　round　mummies。　Personally；　Beatrix　is　one　of　those　blondes
beside　whom　Eve　the　fair　would　seem　a　Negress。　She　is　slender　and
straight　and　white　as　a　church　taper；　her　face　is　long　and　pointed；
the　skin　is　capricious；　to…day　like　cambric；　to…morrow　darkened　with
little　speckles　beneath　its　surface；　as　if　her　blood　had　left　a
deposit　of　dust　there　during　the　night。　Her　forehead　is　magnificent；
though　rather　daring。　The　pupils　of　her　eyes　are　pale　sea…green；
floating　on　their　white　balls　under　thin　lashes　and　lazy　eyelids。　Her
eyes　have　dark　rings　around　them　often；　her　nose；　which　describes　one…
quarter　of　a　circle；　is　pinched　about　the　nostrils；　very　shrewd　and
clever；　but　supercilious。　She　has　an　Austrian　mouth；　the　upper　lip　has
more　character　than　the　lower；　which　drops　disdainfully。　Her　pale
cheeks　have　no　color　unless　some　very　keen　emotion　moves　her。　Her　chin
is　rather　fat；　mine　is　not　thin；　and　perhaps　I　do　wrong　to　tell　you
that　women　with　fat　chins　are　exacting　in　love。　She　has　one　of　the
most　exquisite　waists　I　ever　saw；　the　shoulders　are　beautiful；　but　the
bust　has　not　developed　as　well；　and　the　arms　are　thin。　She　has；
however；　an　easy　carriage　and　manner；　which　redeems　all　such　defects
and　sets　her　beauties　in　full　relief。　Nature　has　given　her　that
princess　air　which　can　never　be　acquired；　it　becomes　her；　and　reveals
at　sudden　moments　the　woman　of　high　birth。　Without　being　faultlessly
beautiful；　or　prettily　pretty；　she　produces；　when　she　chooses；
ineffaceable　impressions。　She　has　only　to　put　on　a　gown　of　cherry
velvet　with　clouds　of　lace；　and　wreathe　with　roses　that　angelic　hair
of　hers；　which　resembles　floods　of　light；　and　she　becomes　divine。　If；
on　some　excuse　or　other；　she　could　wear　the　costume　of　the　time　when
women　had　long；　pointed　bodices；　rising；　slim　and　slender；　from
voluminous　brocaded　skirts　with　folds　so　heavy　that　they　stood　alone；
and　could　hide　her　arms　in　those　wadded　sleeves　with　ruffles；　from
which　the　hand　comes　out　like　a　pistil　from　a　calyx；　and　could　fling
back　the　curls　of　her　head　into　the　jewelled　knot　behind　her　head；
Beatrix　would　hold　her　own　victoriously　with　ideal　beauties　like
/that/〃

And　Felicite　showed　Calyste　a　fine　copy　of　a　picture　by　Mieris；　in
which　was　a　woman　robed　in　white　satin；　standing　with　a　paper　in　her
hand；　and　singing　with　a　Brabancon　seigneur；　while　a　Negro　beside　them
poured　golden　Spanish　wine　into　a　goblet；　and　the　old　housekeeper　in
the　background　arranged　some　biscuits。

〃Fair　women；　blonds；〃　said　Camille；　〃have　the　advantage　over　us　poor
brown　things　of　a　precious　diversity；　there　are　a　hundred　ways　for　a
blonde　to　charm；　and　only　one　for　a　brunette。　Besides；　blondes　are
more　womanly；　we　are　too　like　men；　we　French　brunettesWell；　well！〃
she　cried；　〃pray　don't　fall　in　love　with　Beatrix　from　the　portrait　I
am　making　of　her；　like　that　prince；　I　forget　his　name；　in　the　Arabian
Nights。　You　would　be　too　late；　my　dear　boy。〃

These　words　were　said　pointedly。　The　admiration　depicted　on　the　young
man's　face　was　more　for　the　picture　than　for　the　painter　whose　/faire/
was　failing　of　its　purpose。　As　she　spoke；　Felicite　was　employing　all
the　resources　of　her　eloquent　physiognomy。

〃Blond　as　she　is；　however；〃　she　went　on；　〃Beatrix　has　not　the　grace　of
her　color；　her　lines　are　severe；　she　is　elegant；　but　hard；　her　face
has　a　harsh　contour；　though　at　times　it　reveals　a　soul　with　Southern
passions；　an　angel　flashes　out　and　then　expires。　Her　eyes　are　thirsty。
She　looks　best　when　seen　full　face；　the　profile　has　an　air　of　being
squeezed　between　two　doors。　You　will　see　if　I　am　mistaken。　I　will　tell
you　now　what　made　us　intimate　friends。　For　three　years；　from　1828　to
1831；　Beatrix；　while　enjoying　the　last　fetes　of　the　Restoration；
making　the　round　of　the　salons；　going　to　court；　taking　part　in　the
fancy…balls　of　the　Elysee…Bourbon；　was　all　the　while　judging　men；　and
things；　events；　and　life　itself；　from　the　height　of　her　own　thought。
Her　mind　was　busy。　These　first　years　of　the　bewilderment　the　world
caused　her　prevented　her　heart　from　waking　up。　From　1830　to　1831　she
spent　the　time　of　the　revolutionary　disturbance　at　her　husband's
country…place；　where　she　was　bored　like　a　saint　in　paradise。　On　her
return　to　Paris　she　became　convinced；　perhaps　justly；　that　the
revolution　of　July；　in　the　minds　of　some　persons　purely　political；
would　prove　to　be　a　moral　revolution。　The　social　class　to　which　she
belonged；　not　being　able；　during　its　unhoped…for　triumph　in　the
fifteen　years　of　the　Restoration　to　reconstruct　itself；　was　about　to
go　to　pieces；　bit　by　bit；　under　the　battering…ram　of　the　bourgeoisie。
She　heard　the　famous　words　of　Monsieur　Laine：　'Kings　are　departing！'
This　conviction；　I　believe　was　not　without　its　influence　on　her
conduct。　She　took　an　intellectual　part　in　the　new　doctrines；　which
swarmed；　during　the　three　years　succeeding　July；　1830；　like　gnats　in
the　sunshine；　and　turned　some　female　heads。　But；　like　all　nobles；
Beatrix；　while　thinking　these　novel　ideals　superb；　wanted　always　to
protect　the　nobility。　Finding　before　long　that　there　was　no　place　in
this　new　regime　for　individual　superiority；　seeing　that　the　higher
nobility　were　beginning　once　more　the　mute　opposition　it　had　formerly
made　to　Napoleon；which　was；　in　truth；　its　wisest　course　under　an
empire　of　deeds　and　facts；　but　which　in　an　epoch　of　moral　causes　was
equivalent　to　abdication；she　chose　personal　happiness　rather　than
such　eclipse。　About　the　time　we　were　all　beginning　to　breathe　again；
Beatrix　met　at　my　house　a　man　with　whom　I　had　expected　to　end　my　days；
Gennaro　Conti；　the　great　composer；　a　man　of　Neapolitan　origin；
though　born　in　Marseilles。　Conti　has　a　brilliant　mind；　as　a　composer
he　has　talent；　though　he　will　never　attain　to　the　first　rank。　Without
Rossini；　without　Meyerbeer；　he　might　perhaps　have　been　taken　for　a　man
of　genius。　He　has　one　advantage　over　those　men；he　is　in　vocal　music
what　Paganini　is　on　the　violin；　Liszt　on　the　piano；　Taglioni　in　the
ballet；　and　what　the　famous　Garat　was；　at　any　rate　he　recalls　that
great　singer　to　those　who　knew　him。　His　is　not　a　voice；　my　friend；　it
is　a　soul。　When　its　song　replies　to　certain　ideas；　certain　states　of
feeling　difficult　to　describe　in　which　a　woman　sometimes　finds
herself；　that　woman　is　lost。　The　marquise　conceived　the　maddest
passion　for　him；　and　took　him　from　me。　The　act　was　provincial；　I
allow；　but　it　was　all　fair　play。　She　won　my　esteem　and　friendship　by
the　way　she　behaved　to　me。　She　thought　me　a　woman　who　was　likely　to
defend　her　own；　she　did　not　know　that　to　me　the　most　ridiculous　thing
in　the　world　is　such　a　struggle。　She　came　to　see　me。　That　woman；　proud
as　she　is；　was　so　in　love　that　she　told　me　her　secret　and　made　me　the
arbiter　of　her　destiny。　She　was　really　adorable；　and　she　kept　her
place　as　woman　and　as　marquise　in　my　eyes。　I　must　tell　you；　dear
friend；　that　while　women　are　sometimes　bad；　they　have　hidden　grandeurs
in　their　souls　that　men　can　never　appreciate。　Well；　as　I　seem　to　be
making　my　last　will　and　testament　like　a　woman　on　the　verge　of　old
age；　I　shall　tell　you　that　I　was　ever