Scenes from a Courtesan's Life Part 41

"Women of that sort are very dangerous," said Madame de Serizy, turning her opera-gla.s.s on Esther's box.

"Yes," said the Duke, "as much by what they can do as by what they wish----"

"They will ruin him!" cried Madame de Serizy, "for I am told they cost as much whether they are paid or no."

"Not to him!" said the young Duke, affecting surprise. "They are far from costing him anything; they give him money at need, and all run after him."

The Countess' lips showed a little nervous twitching which could not be included in any category of smiles.

"Well, then," said Esther, "come to supper at midnight. Bring Blondet and Rastignac; let us have two amusing persons at any rate; and we won't be more than nine."

"You must find some excuse for sending the Baron to fetch Eugenie under pretence of warning Asie, and tell her what has befallen me, so that Carlos may know before he has the nabob under his claws."

"That shall be done," said Esther.

And thus Peyrade was probably about to find himself unwittingly under the same roof with his adversary. The tiger was coming into the lion's den, and a lion surrounded by his guards.

When Lucien went back to Madame de Serizy's box, instead of turning to him, smiling and arranging her skirts for him to sit by her, she affected to pay him not the slightest attention, but looked about the house through her gla.s.s. Lucien could see, however, by the shaking of her hand that the Countess was suffering from one of those terrible emotions by which illicit joys are paid for. He went to the front of the box all the same, and sat down by her at the opposite corner, leaving a little vacant s.p.a.ce between himself and the Countess. He leaned on the ledge of the box with his elbow, resting his chin on his gloved hand; then he half turned away, waiting for a word. By the middle of the act the Countess had still neither spoken to him nor looked at him.

"I do not know," said she at last, "why you are here; your place is in Mademoiselle Esther's box----"

"I will go there," said Lucien, leaving the box without looking at the Countess.

"My dear," said Madame du Val-n.o.ble, going into Esther's box with Peyrade, whom the Baron de Nucingen did not recognize, "I am delighted to introduce Mr. Samuel Johnson. He is a great admirer of M. de Nucingen's talents."

"Indeed, monsieur," said Esther, smiling at Peyrade.

"Oh yes, bocou," said Peyrade.

"Why, Baron, here is a way of speaking French which is as much like yours as the low Breton dialect is like that of Burgundy. It will be most amusing to hear you discuss money matters.--Do you know, Monsieur Nabob, what I shall require of you if you are to make acquaintance with my Baron?" said Esther with a smile.

"Oh!--Thank you so much, you will introduce me to Sir Baronet?" said Peyrade with an extravagant English accent.

"Yes," said she, "you must give me the pleasure of your company at supper. There is no pitch stronger than champagne for sticking men together. It seals every kind of business, above all such as you put your foot in.--Come this evening; you will find some jolly fellows.--As for you, my little Frederic," she added in the Baron's ear, "you have your carriage here--just drive to the Rue Saint-Georges and bring Europe to me here; I have a few words to say to her about the supper. I have caught Lucien; he will bring two men who will be fun.--We will draw the Englishman," she whispered to Madame du Val-n.o.ble.

Peyrade and the Baron left the women together.

"Oh, my dear, if you ever succeed in drawing that great brute, you will be clever indeed," said Suzanne.

"If it proves impossible, you must lend him to me for a week," replied Esther, laughing.

"You would but keep him half a day," replied Madame du Val-n.o.ble. "The bread I eat is too hard; it breaks my teeth. Never again, to my dying day, will I try to make an Englishman happy. They are all cold and selfish--pigs on their hind legs."

"What, no consideration?" said Esther with a smile.

"On the contrary, my dear, the monster has never shown the least familiarity."

"Under no circ.u.mstances whatever?" asked Esther.

"The wretch always addresses me as Madame, and preserves the most perfect coolness imaginable at moments when every man is more or less amenable. To him love-making!--on my word, it is nothing more nor less than shaving himself. He wipes the razor, puts it back in its case, and looks in the gla.s.s as if he were saying, 'I have not cut myself!'

"Then he treats me with such respect as is enough to send a woman mad.

That odious Milord Potboiler amuses himself by making poor Theodore hide in my dressing-room and stand there half the day. In short, he tries to annoy me in every way. And as stingy!--As miserly as Gobseck and Gigonnet rolled into one. He takes me out to dinner, but he does not pay the cab that brings me home if I happen not to have ordered my carriage to fetch me."

"Well," said Esther, "but what does he pay you for your services?"

"Oh, my dear, positively nothing. Five hundred francs a month and not a penny more, and the hire of a carriage. But what is it? A machine such as they hire out for a third-rate wedding to carry an epicier to the Mairie, to Church, and to the Cadran bleu.--Oh, he nettles me with his respect.

"If I try hysterics and feel ill, he is never vexed; he only says: 'I wish my lady to have her own way, for there is nothing more detestable--no gentleman--than to say to a nice woman, "You are a cotton bale, a bundle of merchandise."--Ha, hah! Are you a member of the Temperance Society and anti-slavery?' And my horror sits pale, and cold, and hard while he gives me to understand that he has as much respect for me as he might have for a Negro, and that it has nothing to do with his feelings, but with his opinions as an abolitionist."

"A man cannot be a worse wretch," said Esther. "But I will smash up that outlandish Chinee."

"Smash him up?" replied Madame du Val-n.o.ble. "Not if he does not love me. You, yourself, would you like to ask him for two sous? He would listen to you solemnly, and tell you, with British precision that would make a slap in the face seem genial, that he pays dear enough for the trifle that love can be to his poor life;" and, as before, Madame du Val-n.o.ble mimicked Peyrade's bad French.

"To think that in our line of life we are thrown in the way of such men!" exclaimed Esther.

"Oh, my dear, you have been uncommonly lucky. Take good care of your Nucingen."

"But your nabob must have got some idea in his head."

"That is what Adele says."

"Look here, my dear; that man, you may depend, has laid a bet that he will make a woman hate him and pack him off in a certain time."

"Or else he wants to do business with Nucingen, and took me up knowing that you and I were friends; that is what Adele thinks," answered Madame du Val-n.o.ble. "That is why I introduced him to you this evening. Oh, if only I could be sure what he is at, what tricks I could play with you and Nucingen!"

"And you don't get angry?" asked Esther; "you don't speak your mind now and then?"

"Try it--you are sharp and smooth.--Well, in spite of your sweetness, he would kill you with his icy smiles. 'I am anti-slavery,' he would say, 'and you are free.'--If you said the funniest things, he would only look at you and say, 'Very good!' and you would see that he regards you merely as a part of the show."

"And if you turned furious?"

"The same thing; it would still be a show. You might cut him open under the left breast without hurting him in the least; his internals are of tinned-iron, I am sure. I told him so. He replied, 'I am quite satisfied with that physical const.i.tution.'

"And always polite. My dear, he wears gloves on his soul...

"I shall endure this martyrdom for a few days longer to satisfy my curiosity. But for that, I should have made Philippe slap my lord's cheek--and he has not his match as a swordsman. There is nothing else left for it----"

"I was just going to say so," cried Esther. "But you must ascertain first that Philippe is a boxer; for these old English fellows, my dear, have a depth of malignity----"

"This one has no match on earth. No, if you could but see him asking my commands, to know at what hour he may come--to take me by surprise, of course--and pouring out respectful speeches like a so-called gentleman, you would say, 'Why, he adores her!' and there is not a woman in the world who would not say the same."

"And they envy us, my dear!" exclaimed Esther.

"Ah, well!" sighed Madame du Val-n.o.ble; "in the course of our lives we learn more or less how little men value us. But, my dear, I have never been so cruelly, so deeply, so utterly scorned by brutality as I am by this great skinful of port wine.

"When he is tipsy he goes away--'not to be unpleasant,' as he tells Adele, and not to be 'under two powers at once,' wine and woman. He takes advantage of my carriage; he uses it more than I do.--Oh! if only we could see him under the table to-night! But he can drink ten bottles and only be fuddled; when his eyes are full, he still sees clearly."

"Like people whose windows are dirty outside," said Esther, "but who can see from inside what is going on in the street.--I know that property in man. Du Tillet has it in the highest degree."