Mademoiselle de Maupin, Volume 2 (of 2)Gautier, Théophile
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Mademoiselle de Maupin, Volume 2 (of 2)
Gautier, Théophile
French fiction -- Translations into English
If they could have suspected that the slender youth half-asleep on his
chair in the chimney-corner was by no means what he appeared to be,
but a young girl, a morsel for a king, as they say, certainly they
would very soon have changed their tone, and you would have seen them
swell out and spread their feathers on the instant. They would have
approached me with repeated reverences, legs straight, elbows out,
a smile in their eyes and mouth and nose and hair and their whole
attitude; they would have emasculated the words they used and would
have spoken only in velvet and satin phrases; at my slightest movement
they would have acted as if they were going to stretch themselves out
on the floor by way of carpet, for fear that my tender feet might
be bruised by its inequalities; every hand would have been held out
to support me; the softest chair would have been placed in the most
desirable position;--but I had the outward appearance of a pretty boy
and not of a pretty girl.
I confess that I was almost on the point of regretting my petticoats,
when I saw how little attention they paid me.--I was deeply mortified
for a moment; for from time to time I forgot that I was now wearing
man's clothes, and I had to remind myself of it in order to avoid an
attack of bad temper.
I sat there, not saying a word, with folded arms, apparently watching
with close attention the chicken on the spit, which was turning browner
and browner, and the unfortunate dog whose rest I had so unluckily
disturbed, who was struggling away in his wheel like several devils in
the same holy-water vessel.
The youngest of the party brought his hand down on my shoulder with a
force that made me wince, on my word, and extorted from me a little
involuntary shriek, and asked me if I would not prefer to sup with
them rather than all alone, as several could drink better than one.--I
answered that it was a pleasure I should not have dared to hope for,
and that I would be very glad to do it. Our places were laid together
and we took our seats at the table.
The panting dog, after swallowing an enormous dipperful of water with
three laps of his tongue, resumed his post opposite the other dog, who
had not stirred any more than if he had been made of porcelain,--the
new-comers, by a special dispensation of Providence, not having ordered
chicken.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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