But you do not understand me, and many other women
will also not understand me, and think me stupid,
though that matters very little to me. Hungry
men eat like gluttons, but people of refinement are
disgusted at it, and they often feel an invincible
dislike for a dish, on account of a mere trifle.
It is the same with love, as it is with cookery.
What I cannot comprehend, for example, is, that certain
women who fully understand the irresistible attraction
of fine, embroidered stockings, the exquisite charm
of shades, the witchery of valuable lace concealed
in the depths of their underclothing, the exciting
jest of hidden luxury, and all the subtle delicacies
of female elegance, never understand the invincible
disgust with which words that are out of place, or
foolishly tender, inspire us.
At times coarse and brutal expressions work wonders,
as they excite the senses, and make the heart beat,
and they are allowable at the hours of combat.
Is not that sentence of Cambronne’s sublime?
[10]
[Footnote 10: At Waterloo, General Cambronne
is reported to have said, when called on to surrender:—The
Guard dies, but does not surrender. But according
to Victor Hugo, in Les Miserables, he used the
expression Merde! which cannot be put into English
fit for ears polite.—TRANSLATOR.]
Nothing shocks us that comes at the right time; but
then, we must also know when to hold our tongue, and
to avoid phrases a la Paul de Kock, at certain
moments.
And I embrace you passionately, on the condition that
you say nothing,
RENE.
M. Chassel advocate, rises to speak: Mr. President
and gentlemen of the jury. The cause that I am
charged to defend before you, requires medicine rather
than justice; and is much more a case of pathology
than a case of ordinary law. At first blush the
facts seem very simple.
A young man, very rich, with a noble and cultivated
mind, and a generous heart, becomes enamored of a
young lady, who is the perfection of beauty, more
than beautiful, in fact; she is adorable, besides being
as gracious, as she is charming, as good and true
as she is tender and pretty, and he marries her.
For some time, he comports himself towards her not
only as a devoted husband, but as a man full of solicitude
and tenderness. Then he neglects her, misuses
her, seems to entertain for her an insurmountable
aversion, an irresistible disgust. One day he
even strikes her, not only without any cause, but
also without the faintest pretext. I am not going,
gentlemen, to draw a picture of silly allurements,
which no one would comprehend. I shall not paint
to you the wretched life of those two beings, and
the horrible grief of this young woman. It will
be sufficient to convince you, if I read some fragments
from a journal written up every day by that poor young
man, by that poor fool! For it is in the presence
of a fool, gentlemen, that we now find ourselves, and
the case is all the more curious, all the more interesting,
seeing that, in many points, it recalls the insanity
of the unfortunate prince who recently died, of the
witless king who reigned platonically over Bavaria.
I shall hence designate this case—poetic
folly.
