France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
If this unhappy youth should seem to you to have become a _lion_ on very
cheap terms, you must know that Amedee de Soulas had been three times to
Switzerland, by coach and in short stages, twice to Paris, and once from
Paris to England. He passed as a well-informed traveler, and could say,
“In England, where I went...” The dowagers of the town would say to him,
“You, who have been in England...” He had been as far as Lombardy, and
seen the shores of the Italian lakes. He read new books. Finally,
when he was cleaning his gloves, the tiger Babylas replied to callers,
“Monsieur is very busy.” An attempt had been made to withdraw Monsieur
Amedee de Soulas from circulation by pronouncing him “A man of advanced
ideas.” Amedee had the gift of uttering with the gravity of a native the
commonplaces that were in fashion, which gave him the credit of being
one of the most enlightened of the nobility. His person was garnished
with fashionable trinkets, and his head furnished with ideas hall-marked
by the press.
In 1834 Amedee was a young man of five-and-twenty, of medium height,
dark, with a very prominent thorax, well-made shoulders, rather plump
legs, feet already fat, white dimpled hands, a beard under his chin,
moustaches worthy of the garrison, a good-natured, fat, rubicund face, a
flat nose, and brown expressionless eyes; nothing Spanish about him.
He was progressing rapidly in the direction of obesity, which would be
fatal to his pretensions. His nails were well kept, his beard trimmed,
the smallest details of his dress attended to with English precision.
Hence Amedee de Soulas was looked upon as the finest man in Besancon. A
hairdresser who waited upon him at a fixed hour--another luxury, costing
sixty francs a year--held him up as the sovereign authority in matters
of fashion and elegance.
Amedee slept late, dressed and went out towards noon, to go to one of
his farms and practise pistol-shooting. He attached as much importance
to this exercise as Lord Byron did in his later days. Then, at three
o’clock he came home, admired on horseback by the grisettes and the
ladies who happened to be at their windows. After an affectation of
study or business, which seemed to engage him till four, he dressed to
dine out, spent the evening in the drawing-rooms of the aristocracy of
Besancon playing whist, and went home to bed at eleven. No life could
be more above board, more prudent, or more irreproachable, for he
punctually attended the services at church on Sundays and holy days.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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