France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
One afternoon, as Pascal and Clotilde turned the corner of the Rue de
la Banne, they perceived Dr. Ramond on the opposite side of the street.
It had chanced that they had learned the day before that he had asked
and had obtained the hand of Mlle. Leveque, the advocate’s daughter. It
was certainly the most sensible course he could have taken, for his
business interests made it advisable that he should marry, and the
young girl, who was very pretty and very rich, loved him. He, too,
would certainly love her in time. Therefore Clotilde joyfully smiled
her congratulations to him as a sincere friend. Pascal saluted him with
an affectionate gesture. For a moment Ramond, a little moved by the
meeting, stood perplexed. His first impulse seemed to have been to
cross over to them. But a feeling of delicacy must have prevented him,
the thought that it would be brutal to interrupt their dream, to break
in upon this solitude _à deux_, in which they moved, even amid the
elbowings of the street. And he contented himself with a friendly
salutation, a smile in which he forgave them their happiness. This was
very pleasant for all three.
At this time Clotilde amused herself for several days by painting a
large pastel representing the tender scene of old King David and
Abishag, the young Shunammite. It was a dream picture, one of those
fantastic compositions into which her other self, her romantic self,
put her love of the mysterious. Against a background of flowers thrown
on the canvas, flowers that looked like a shower of stars, of barbaric
richness, the old king stood facing the spectator, his hand resting on
the bare shoulder of Abishag. He was attired sumptuously in a robe
heavy with precious stones, that fell in straight folds, and he wore
the royal fillet on his snowy locks. But she was more sumptuous still,
with only the lilylike satin of her skin, her tall, slender figure, her
round, slender throat, her supple arms, divinely graceful. He reigned
over, he leaned, as a powerful and beloved master, on this subject,
chosen from among all others, so proud of having been chosen, so
rejoiced to give to her king the rejuvenating gift of her youth. All
her pure and triumphant beauty expressed the serenity of her
submission, the tranquillity with which she gave herself, before the
assembled people, in the full light of day. And he was very great and
she was very fair, and there radiated from both a starry radiance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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