France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
In Paris extremes are made to meet by passion. Vice is constantly
binding the rich to the poor, the great to the mean. The Empress
consults Mademoiselle Lenormand; the fine gentleman in every age can
always find a Ramponneau.
The man returned within two hours.
“Monsieur le Baron,” said he, “Madame de Saint-Esteve is ruined.”
“Ah! so much de better!” cried the Baron in glee. “I shall hafe her safe
den.”
“The good woman is given to gambling, it would seem,” the valet went
on. “And, moreover, she is under the thumb of a third-rate actor in a
suburban theatre, whom, for decency’s sake, she calls her godson. She is
a first-rate cook, it would seem, and wants a place.”
“Dose teufel of geniuses of de common people hafe alvays ten vays of
making money, and ein dozen vays of spending it,” said the Baron to
himself, quite unconscious that Panurge had thought the same thing.
He sent his servant off in quest of Madame de Saint-Esteve, who did not
come till the next day. Being questioned by Asie, the servant revealed
to this female spy the terrible effects of the notes written to Monsieur
le Baron by his mistress.
“Monsieur must be desperately in love with the woman,” said he in
conclusion, “for he was very near dying. For my part, I advised him
never to go back to her, for he will be wheedled over at once. A woman
who has already cost Monsieur le Baron five hundred thousand francs,
they say, without counting what he has spent on the house in the Rue
Saint-Georges! But the woman cares for money, and for money only.--As
madame came out of monsieur’s room, she said with a laugh: ‘If this goes
on, that slut will make a widow of me!’”
“The devil!” cried Asie; “it will never do to kill the goose that lays
the golden eggs.”
“Monsieur le Baron has no hope now but in you,” said the valet.
“Ay! The fact is, I do know how to make a woman go.”
“Well, walk in,” said the man, bowing to such occult powers.
“Well,” said the false Saint-Esteve, going into the sufferer’s room with
an abject air, “Monsieur le Baron has met with some difficulties? What
can you expect! Everybody is open to attack on his weak side. Dear me,
I have had my troubles too. Within two months the wheel of Fortune has
turned upside down for me. Here I am looking out for a place!--We have
neither of us been very wise. If Monsieur le Baron would take me as cook
to Madame Esther, I would be the most devoted of slaves. I should be
useful to you, monsieur, to keep an eye on Eugenie and madame.”
“Dere is no hope of dat,” said the Baron. “I cannot succeet in being de
master, I am let such a tance as----”
“As a top,” Asie put in. “Well, you have made others dance, daddy, and
the little slut has got you, and is making a fool of you.--Heaven is
just!”
“Just?” said the Baron. “I hafe not sent for you to preach to me----”
“Pooh, my boy! A little moralizing breaks no bones. It is the salt of
life to the like of us, as vice is to your bigots.--Come, have you been
generous? You have paid her debts?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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