Читать книгу Justine - Маркиз де Сад - Страница 6

The Comtesse de Lorsange was one of those priestesses of Venus whose fortune lies in an enchanting figure, supported by considerable misconduct and trickery, and whose titles, however pompous they may be, are never found save in the archives of Cythera, forged by the impertinence which assures them, and upheld by the stupid credulity of those who accept them. Brunette, vivacious, attractively made, she had amazingly expressive dark eyes, was gifted with wit, and possessed, above all, that fashionable cynicism which adds another dash of spice to the passions, and which makes infinitely more tempting the woman in whom it is suspected. She had, moreover, received the best possible education. Daughter of a very rich merchant of the rue Saint-Honoré, she had been brought up, with a sister three years younger than herself, in one of the best convents in Paris; where, until she was fifteen years old, nothing in the way of good counsel, no good teacher, worthwhile book, or training in any desirable accomplishment, had been refused her. Nevertheless, at that age when such events are most fatal to the virtue of a young girl, she found herself deprived of everything in a single day. A shocking bankruptcy plunged her father into such a cruel situation that all he could do to escape the most sinister of circumstances was to fly speedily to England, leaving his daughters in the care of a wife who died of grief within eight days of his departure. One or two of their few remaining relatives deliberated on the fate of the girls, but as all that was left to them totalled a mere hundred crowns each, it was decided to give them their due, show them the door, and leave them mistresses of their own actions.

Madame de Lorsange, who at that time was known as Juliette, and whose wit and character were already almost as mature as they were when she had reached the age of thirty – which was her age at the time of our story – felt only pleasure at her freedom, and never for an instant dwelt on the cruel reverses which had broken her chains. Justine, her sister, however, just turned twelve, and of a sombre and melancholy turn of mind, was endowed with an unusual tenderness accompanied by a surprising sensitivity. In place of the polish and artfulness of Juliette, she possessed only that candour and good faith which were to lead her into so many traps, and thus felt all the horror of her position.

This young girl’s features were totally different from those of her sister. The one held just as much of artifice, flirtation, and guile, as the other did of delicacy, timidity, and the most admirable modesty. For Justine had a virginal air, great blue eyes gentle with concern, a clear dazzling complexion, a small slender body, a voice of touching softness, ivory teeth, and beautiful fair hair. These were the subtle charms of the younger sister, whose innocent grace and delicious features were so delicate and ethereal that they would escape the very brush which would depict them.

Each of the two were given twenty-four hours to leave the convent, and were left to provide for themselves, each with her hundred crowns, wherever and however they might choose. Juliette, enchanted at being her own mistress, wished for a moment to dry Justine’s tears; but realising that she would not succeed, set to scolding instead of consoling her, exclaiming that such behaviour was foolish, and that girls of their age, blessed with faces like theirs, had never starved to death. She cited, as an example, the daughter of one of their neighbours who, abandoning her paternal home, was now being kept in luxury by a rich landowner, and drove her own carriage around Paris. Justine expressed horror at such a pernicious example, and she said she would rather die than emulate it. Moreover she flatly refused to share a lodging with her sister, since it was obvious that this young woman had decided to follow the abominable way of life which she had so recently praised.

Thus the two sisters separated from each other without promise of any reunion, since their intentions were found to be so different. Could Juliette, who had pretensions to becoming a great lady, ever consent to see again a little girl whose low and virtuous inclinations would disgrace her? And, on her side, is it likely that Justine would wish to risk her morals in the company of a perverse creature who was about to become the victim of vile lubricity and general debauchery? Each, therefore, relying on her own resources, left the convent on the following day as had been agreed.

Justine, who as a child had been fawned over by her mother’s dressmaker, imagined that this woman would feel a natural sympathy for her position. She therefore sought her out, told her of her unfortunate position and, asking for work, was immediately thrown on to the street.

‘Oh heaven!’ cried the poor little creature, ‘must it be that the first step I take in the world leads me only to further miseries…This woman loved me once! Why, then, does she cast me away today?…Alas, it must be because I am orphaned and poor…Because I have no resources in the world, and because people are esteemed only by reason of the help or the pleasure which others hope to receive from them.’

Reflecting thus, Justine called on her parish priest and asked his advice. But the charitable ecclesiastic equivocally replied that it was impossible for him to give her any alms, as the parish was already overburdened, but that if she wished to serve him he would willingly provide her with board and lodging. In saying this, however, he passed his hand under her chin, and kissed her in a fashion much too worldly for a man of the Church. Justine, who understood his intentions all too well, quickly drew back, expressing herself as follows: ‘Sir, I am asking of you neither alms nor yet the position of a servant. I am not so far reduced from my recent position in society as to beg two such favours; all I ask of you is the advice of which my youth and my present misfortune stand so much in need. Yet you would have me buy it with a crime…’ The priest, insulted by this expression, opened the door and pushed her brutally on to the street. Thus Justine, twice repulsed on the first day of her isolation, walked into a house displaying a notice and rented a small furnished room, paying in advance. Here, at least, she was able to abandon herself in comfort to the grief caused not only by her situation but by the cruelty of the few individuals with whom her unlucky star had constrained her to have dealings.