Читать книгу Paula Monti; or, The Hôtel Lambert - Эжен Сю - Страница 5

A tolerably large party of idlers congregated around the large chest on which was seated, as on a throne, the domino of whom we have spoken, listened eagerly to the strange versions which were buzzed about of the mysterious lives of the Prince and Princess de Hansfeld.

Fortunately for the inquisitive these tales were not yet at their conclusion.

"I must remark," said M. de Fierval, "that Madame de Lormoy, the only lady who visits Madame de Hansfeld on very intimate terms, speaks extremely well of her."

"For reasons plain enough," said M. de Brévannes; "the smallest bit of rock is always an America for the modern Columbuses. Madame de Lormoy has found her way into the Hôtel Lambert, and is, therefore, in duty bound to recite marvels of the princess. But à propos of Madame de Lormoy, what has become of her nephew, le beau des beaux, Leon de Morville? What happy woman now adores his archangelic face, since he has been obliged to break off with Lady Melford?"

"He remains faithful to the remembrance of his lovely islander," replied M. de Fierval.

"To the great displeasure of many ladies of fashion," added the domino; "amongst others of the little Marquise de Luceval, who affects originality, as if she were not sufficiently pretty to be natural. Being unable to carry, off Leon de Morville from his lady-love, whilst this affair was in existence, she now lives in hopes of the reversion."

"An attachment of five years is very rare."

"It is still more rare to find any one faithful to a recollection, I really cannot understand it," said M. de Brévannes.

"Especially when the constant swain is as much sought after as Morville is."

"As for me, I never could bear M. de Morville," said M. de Brévannes; "I have always endeavoured to avoid him."

"I assure you, my dear sir," said M. de Fierval, "that he is one of the best fellows in the world."

"That may be, but he seems so conceited of his pretty face."

"Fortunately this Adonis is as stupid as he is handsome!" said the domino.

"Charming mask, beware!" said a new comer who had made his way to the first rank of the auditors; "when you speak thus of Leon de Morville, one might be induced to believe that your seductions have failed to shake his fidelity to Lady Melford. You speak too maliciously of him not to have wished him—too well."

"Really, Gercourt," answered the domino, gaily, "you seem to me monstrously good-natured to-day. Are they going to perform your comedy to-morrow?"

"What, charming mask, do you believe that I have an interest in this matter?"

"Unquestionably. A man of the world like you, of fashion like you, of wit like you, who is bold enough to have more wit than his neighbours—a man of wit, you know, is condemned to all sorts of unpleasant manœuvres—yet if your comedy fails, you must not accuse your friends of its failure."

"Delightful mask, I should not be so unjust. If my comedy fail, I shall accuse no one but myself. When we have friends like Leon de Morville, of whom you speak such flattering unkindnesses, one may believe that there is yet such a thing as friendship."

"What, do you wish to recommence our quarrel?"

"Unquestionably."

"To assert that Leon de Morville has wit?"

"Unluckily for himself he is remarkably handsome, and so the envious like to have it supposed that he is very silly. If he squinted, stuttered, or was humpbacked, peste! people would not think for a moment of disputing his wit. It is incredible the advantages which ugliness possesses in our days."

"Do you mean this as a defence of the majority of statesmen of the present day?" retorted the domino. "The fact is we may now say, ugly as a minister!"

"Moreover, in this serious age, there is nothing more serious than ugliness."

"Without taking into consideration," said the domino, "that a hideous visage is always a sort of introduction and preparation for a future villainy, and in this sense it is very useful for certain statesmen to be ugly."

"To return to M. de Morville, I never heard of his wit," said M. de Brévannes, sarcastically.

"So much the better for him," replied M. de Gercourt; "I mistrust people whose bon-mots are cited, I should even doubt M. de Talleyrand's reputation if I had not heard him talk. Confess, however, my dear Brévannes, that Morville has not an enemy, in spite of the envy which his success must excite."

"Because he is a goose!" said the mask, doggedly; "persons who have really superior minds always have enemies."

"It seems to me, then, charming mask," retorted M. de Gercourt, "that your ferocious hostility proves Leon de Morville's superiority."

"Bah! bah!" replied the domino, without noticing this rejoinder; "the proof that M. de Morville is a poor creature is, that he always endeavours to produce an effect and make himself noticed; whether ridiculous or not, he does not care for the means by which he attains his desire."

"What do you mean?" inquired M. de Gercourt.

"We were just now alluding to the general admiration which the Princess de Hansfeld inspires," said the domino; "well, M. de Morville affects to do the reverse of all the world. He may be indifferent to Madame de Hansfeld's beauty;—granted. But it is a long way from indifference to aversion."

"Aversion! what do you mean?" asked M. de Brévannes.

"This is a fresh crime of which poor Morville is innocent, I will answer for it," said M. de Gercourt.

"Every body knows that he pretends a most decided aversion for Madame de Hansfeld," replied the domino.

"Morville?"

"Certainly. Although he goes very little into society, yet he now affects to fly from the places where he might be likely to meet the princess. To such a pitch does he carry this, that he is now but very rarely seen at his aunt's, Madame de Lormoy's, no doubt from a dread of meeting Madame de Hansfeld there. Now say, Fierval, you who know Madame de Lormoy, if this be not true?"

"Why, to say the truth, I very seldom meet Morville now at his aunt's."

"Do you hear that?" said the domino, triumphantly, addressing M. de Gercourt; "Morville's antipathy for the princess is remarked upon—people gossip and chatter, and thus the end of this brainless Apollo is attained."

"That is impossible," said M. de Gercourt; "for no one is freer from affectation than Morville, who is one of the most amiable men—the most naturally amiable man that I know; and I will say, that I fully believe, that in his life he never hated, feigned, or lied; indeed, he carries his respect for pledged faith to the utmost extent, even to exaggeration."

"I am decidedly of Gercourt's opinion," said M. de Fierval; "but the fact is, that De Morville, who has been for a long time wretchedly out of spirits, goes very little into society."

"That is easily explained," said one of the auditors of this conversation; "Lady Melford has left these eighteen months, and he has unceasingly regretted her."

"And then," added another, "M. de Morville's mother is in a very alarming state, and every body knows how fond he is of her."

"His love for his mother has nothing to do with what we are talking of," said the domino; "as to his fidelity to his souvenir of Lady Melford, he has changed from ridicule and exaggeration; that is generous of him, inasmuch as it varies our amusement: he has seen the folly of that exaggeration."

"What do you mean?"

"I am not the dupe of his affectation to avoid Madame de Hansfeld. I will bet a wager that he is enamoured of her, and desires to attract her attention by his calculating originality."

"That is impossible," said Fierval.

"It is too vulgar a mode," added Gercourt.

"The very reason that M. de Morville has recourse to it; he is too dull to invent any other."

"What!—would he have awaited the arrival of Madame de Hansfeld in order to be unfaithful, when, for nearly two years, he had nothing to do but to take his choice of the loveliest comforters?"

"Nothing more simple," said the domino. "The difficulty has tempted him; no one has succeeded with Madame de Hansfeld, and he would he jealous of this success; because De Morville is a fool, it does not follow that he is not a coxcomb."

"And because you have wit, charming mask," said M. de Brévannes, "it does not follow that you should be just."

A domino took M. de Gercourt by the arm, and put an end to this discussion about M. de Morville, who thus lost his stanchest defender.

"And how long has this enchanting princess been in Paris?" inquired M. de Brévannes.

"About three or four months," replied M. de Fierval.

"And who introduced her into society?"

"The wife of the Saxon Minister; the prince is a Saxon himself."

"The prince!" continued M. de Brévannes; "is it really possible that nothing more than you say is known of this mysterious stranger?"

"I can tell you," answered M. de Fierval, "that as inquisitive as the rest of the world to penetrate the smallest corner of this mystery, I have inquired of the minister of Saxony."

"Well?"

"He gave me an evasive reply. The prince, whose health was extremely delicate, lived in perfect retirement; he was obliged to submit to very strict regimen; his journey had fatigued him greatly; in fact, I saw that my questions decidedly embarrassed the minister, so I ended the conversation, and have since abstained from again mentioning M. de Hansfeld's name in his presence."

"It is really remarkably odd," said M. de Brévannes; "and no one amongst the foreigners here knows anything of the prince?"

"All I have been able to learn is, that he was married in Italy, and that, after a journey to England, he came and established himself here."

"As far as one may hazard an opinion on so obscure a matter," said another, "I should decidedly say that the prince was weak in his intellect, or something very like it."

"In fact," observed the domino, "the care that is taken to conceal him from all eyes——"

"The embarrassment of the Saxon minister, in replying to you," said M. de Brévannes to M. de Fierval; "the sombre and melancholy air of the princess.—But then, why does this melancholy beauty go into the world?"

"Do you wish to keep her constantly immured with her idiot—if idiot he be?"

"But she always has the melancholy and sombre appearance you speak of, what pleasure can she find in the world?"

"Ma foi, I really cannot tell," said M. de Fierval; "it is just this very mystery, which joined to Madame de Hansfeld's beauty, makes her so much the rage."

"Has she no intimate friend who could disclose something about her?" inquired M. de Brévannes.

"I heard Madame de Lormoy say, that, on going one morning to see Madame de Hansfeld, at the Hôtel Lambert, she suddenly heard, near the apartment in which she was, some notes of delicious harmony, played on a finger-organ with exquisite skill. The princess could not repress a movement of impatience; she made a sign to her companion with the dark countenance, who went out instantly, and a few moments afterwards the sounds ceased!"

"And did not Madame de Lormoy inquire whence those notes of the organ came?"

"She did."

"And what was the princess's reply?"

"That she knew nothing about them—that no doubt it was somewhere in the neighbourhood, that they were playing on this instrument, the sound of which quite unhinged her nerves. Madame de Lormoy remarked, that the Hôtel Lambert was perfectly isolated, and therefore the organ must be played upon in the house, and then Madame de Hansfeld talked of something else."

"Whence we may conclude," replied the domino, "that no one will unriddle this enigma. Ah, if I were a man, I would find it all out by to-morrow!"

The conversation was interrupted by these words of M. de Fierval, which attracted universal attention,—

"Who is that tall domino, evidently masculine in its gender, which is on the look-out for adventure? That knot of yellow and blue ribands on his head is no doubt a signal of rallying and recognition."

"Oh," said the domino, quitting the chest on which she had been sitting, "it is some serious rendezvous—I will prevent the meeting by following the steps of this mysterious personage."

Unfortunately for this malicious design, a crowd carried away with it the domino which wore the knot of yellow and blue ribands, and which rapidly disappeared.

Some moments afterwards, the same masculine domino who had just escaped the curious pursuit of the domino of the chest ascended the staircase which led to the second tier of boxes, and walked up and down the corridor for several minutes.

He was soon rejoined by a female domino who also wore a knot of yellow and blue ribands.

After a moment's examination and hesitation, the female approached, and said in a low voice,—

"Childe Harold."

"Faust," replied the male domino. These words exchanged, the lady took the arm of the gentleman, who led her into the anteroom of one of the stage-boxes.

"These words exchanged, the lady took the arm of the gentleman, who led her into the anteroom of one of the stage-boxes."