Le Cocu Part 36

With the taste for music, Eugenie also contracted a taste for b.a.l.l.s, receptions, the theatre--in a word, for the world. We began to see a great many people; almost every day we had invitations to dinners or other festivities; and then we were bound to return the courtesies we had received; so that we had not a day to ourselves. That was not the placid existence which we had planned in the early days of our married life. For my own part, I confess that that constant rush made me dizzy; but it pleased my wife and it was one way of obtaining peace.

I earned enough money to meet the expenses of the life we led. Eugenie now spent on her dress a large part of her income. She had become very coquettish of late; however, she was not yet twenty-five, and she was as pretty as ever.

What distressed me was that amid all this dissipation my wife paid little attention to her daughter; our Henriette never lacked anything and she was well taken care of, but it seemed to me that her mother did not pet her enough. Eugenie loved her daughter dearly; I could not doubt that; perhaps it was because I spoiled her a little that she was more stern with her. I dared not reprove her; indeed at that moment I carefully avoided everything that could excite her; once more she was expecting to become a mother and I had received the news with the most intense delight; I felt that I should be so happy to have a son! To be sure I could not love him any more dearly than I loved my daughter, but I should love him as much, and from the delight that one child afforded me, I felt that with two my happiness would be twice as great. So I was most a.s.siduous in my attentions to my wife; but I did not see that she was any more amiable to me.

I went very seldom to see Ernest, but I knew that they were happy. They had two children now, whom they adored, and Marguerite liked better to remain by their cradles than to go to b.a.l.l.s or parties. I confessed to myself that I would have been glad if Eugenie had had such quiet tastes.

Marguerite always was kind enough to inquire for my wife; as for Ernest, he had never entered our house again, and I approved his course.

I had not met Belan for a long while, when he entered my study one morning, flushed, panting, and in a profuse perspiration. He sat down beside me and did not give me time to question him.

"I am, my friend, I certainly am! I am sure of it now. It is a most frightful, most abominable thing!"

"What is it that you are, then?" I asked, watching Belan mop his forehead.

"Parbleu! do you need to ask? I am a cuckold!"

Belan said this in such an absurd tone that I could not resist the desire to laugh. While I indulged it, Belan sprang to his feet and muttered in a feeling tone:

"I did not think that an old friend, a married man, would laugh like this at my misfortune."

"I beg pardon, my dear Belan," I said, forcing him to resume his seat; "I beg pardon. You certainly cannot suppose that I intended to hurt you.

But the fact is that you said that so suddenly that I thought it was a joke."

"No, I swear to you that there is no joke about it. Mon Dieu! that wicked Armide! Such a well-bred woman, and n.o.bly born! A woman who wouldn't let me take off my shirt in her presence! I cannot stand it any longer, and I have come to consult you as to what I had best do. You are a lawyer and you will advise me.--Shameless creature!"

"Come, come! First of all, calm yourself, Belan, and then, if you desire my advice, tell me what makes you think that your wife is deceiving you."

"I have told you, my friend, of a certain marquis who used to pay court to my wife, and who afterward came in the kindest way to visit us. Oh!

as to that, I must admit that he overwhelmed me with attentions. He came often----"

"It was you yourself who urged him to, so you told me."

"Yes, that is true, because the Girauds had presumed to make remarks.

Besides, could I ever have imagined? Perfidious Armide!--A woman who pinched and bit and scratched me on our wedding night, when I--you understand?"

"Well, my dear Belan?"

"Well, the marquis finally almost lived at our house. He escorted my wife to the theatre, brought her home from parties and sang duets with her; he has a very fine voice, I admit. All that was agreeable to me, it was all right. Moreover, I said to myself: 'My mother-in-law is with them.' But, the day before yesterday, having returned home when I was not expected, I thought I would go to my wife's room; she was locked into her boudoir with the marquis. What for? There is no piano in her boudoir. My friend, I remembered my bachelor adventures, all the husbands I have wronged; it was as if someone had struck me with a hammer. I ran to the boudoir and knocked like a deaf man; my wife admitted me and made a scene. The marquis seemed offended by my air of suspicion, and I concluded that I was mistaken. But it seems that when those infernal ideas once get into your head, they don't leave it again very soon. I dreamed all night of Moliere's _George Dandin_, and _Le Cocu Imaginaire_. Ah! my dear Blemont, jealousy is a terrible thing! You know nothing about it and you are very lucky! And to think that it struck me like a pistol shot!"

"My wife has taught me all the suffering that jealousy can cause, my dear Belan, but go on."

"Well, yesterday I was to dine out, and my wife was to dine with one of her aunts. I left the house. On the way I remembered my adventure with Madame Montdidier--you remember, before we were married?"

"Yes, I remember."

"She also had said that she was going to dine with one of her aunts, and I was the aunt. Ah! my friend, I believe that it brings bad luck to have injured others so much. In short, it occurred to me to go home and watch my wife. I hurried back and went into a pa.s.sageway opposite our door.

That also reminded me of my bachelor days. After five minutes I saw Armide come out and get into a cab in a very alluring neglige. My mother-in-law was not with her, although she had told me that they were going together. I followed the cab, at the risk of breaking a blood-vessel. It took my wife to the new boulevards, which were in the opposite direction from her aunt's house. It stopped before a restaurant celebrated for its fried fish and gudgeons. Armide went in; a few seconds later I did the same; I put five francs in the waiter's hand and ordered him to tell me with whom that lady was dining. He drew the portrait so accurately of the gentleman who was waiting for her that I could not help recognizing the marquis. He pointed out to me the room where they were, at the end of the corridor, and I ran there like a madman. I found the key on the outside, I rushed in like a lunatic, and I found myself in the presence of an artilleryman, who was toying with a grisette from the twelfth arrondiss.e.m.e.nt.

"The artilleryman was enraged at being disturbed; I could not find excuses enough; he blackguarded me, and while the damsel was readjusting her neckerchief, he rushed at me, seized me by the shoulder and pushed me out of the room, saying that he would see me again after dessert. You will understand that I had no desire to wait for the artilleryman.

Finding myself in the corridor, where there were no other keys on the outside, I began to shout in a stentorian voice: 'Armide, open the door!' No one opened the door, and the waiter informed me that, during my controversy with the soldier, the lady had hastily left with her escort. But where had she gone? That was what no one could tell me. I returned home; I found no one there but my mother-in-law, who called me a visionary; and that night, at the first words that I said to my wife, she locked herself into her room and refused to admit me. That is my situation, my friend; I dreamed again of George Dandin, and I hurried here this morning to tell you about it."

Belan ceased to speak. I was still tempted to laugh, but I restrained myself.

"In all this that you have told me," I said to him, "there are presumptions, but no proofs."

"Ah! for us fellows, my dear Blemont, who have had so many adventures, who know all about such things, they are quite as good as proofs."

"The waiter may have been mistaken; perhaps it wasn't the marquis; you didn't see him, did you?"

"No, for they had gone, and I had no desire to wait for the artilleryman."

"You did not act shrewdly."

"That is true, I was a perfect donkey; I lost my head."

"You must distrust appearances, my poor Belan; I am better able than anybody to tell you that."

"The deuce! do you mean that you have had suspicions about madame?"

"I? Oh no! never! but she had suspicions about me, and very ill-founded ones too, I promise you."

"The deuce! suppose I was wrong! What do you advise me to do?"

"Wait, keep your eyes open, and watch, but with prudence; or else frankly ask your wife to explain her conduct yesterday; perhaps it was all very simple and innocent."

"In fact, that is quite possible. The one thing that is certain is that I acted like a child. Dear Blemont, you calm my pa.s.sions. After all, just because a young man comes often to one's house, and is attentive to one's wife, that doesn't prove--for you yourself are not jealous of Monsieur Dulac, who is always at your house, and who often acts as escort to your wife. My mother-in-law was talking about it only the other day to my wife."

"Indeed! those ladies were talking about me, eh?"

"No, they were simply talking about Monsieur Dulac. Armide thinks that he is a very handsome man, but for my part, I see nothing extraordinary about him. Then they cited you as an example; they said: 'There's a husband who is not jealous; look at him! Monsieur Dulac is his wife's regular escort, and he doesn't seem to notice it; he is a husband who knows how to live.' And then they laughed, because, you know, when the women begin to pa.s.s us in review, there's no end to it.--Well, well!

What are you thinking about, my dear fellow? You are not listening to me."

"I beg your pardon; I was thinking that the world notices things, which we, who are most interested in them, often do not notice at all."

"You advise me to wait, to watch, and to be prudent; I will do it. If I should acquire proofs--Oh! then I shall explode, I shall be terrible, inflexible. Adieu, my dear fellow, I will leave you, for I see that you are preoccupied. Au revoir."

Belan took his leave, and I bade him adieu with no desire to laugh. It was strange what an effect had been produced upon me by what he had told me of the comments of his wife and her mother. They noticed that Monsieur Dulac was an a.s.siduous guest at my house and very attentive to my wife; and I myself had not noticed it. That was because I saw no harm in it, whereas the world is so evil-minded! And calumny is such a delicious weapon. Figaro was quite right: "Calumny, always calumny!"

Although I knew that it was mere malicious gossip, I involuntarily pa.s.sed in review Monsieur Dulac's conduct. I recalled his earnest desire to be received at my house after the ball from which he had escorted my wife home.

I became sad and pensive; I was conscious of a discomfort, a feeling of disquietude which I had never known before. I wondered if that was the way in which jealousy made itself felt. But what nonsense! What was I thinking about? It was that Belan, who had upset me with his own conjugal misfortunes. That his wife deceived him was possible, yes, probable; she had never loved him; but my Eugenie, who used to love me so much, and who loved me still, I hoped--although jealousy had soured her disposition to some extent! But that very jealousy was a proof of love. And she had ceased to be jealous. Why? Ah! Belan need not have reported those remarks to me! He did it from malice.

To banish such thoughts, I left my study. I heard the piano; my wife was in the salon, and the sight of her would cause me to forget all the nonsense that had been pa.s.sing through my mind. I entered abruptly.

Monsieur Dulac was there, seated near my wife,--in fact, very near, as it seemed to me. At that moment, I admit that his presence caused me a very unpleasant sensation.

Dulac rose hastily and came toward me.

"Good-afternoon, Monsieur Blemont. I have brought madame a lovely fantasia on a favorite air of Rossini's. Madame plays it at sight with such a.s.surance and such taste!"