The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau — CompleteRousseau, Jean-Jacques
Philosophy
The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau — Complete
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques
Authors, French -- 18th century -- Biography; Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 1712-1778
But, at the moment in which I was ready to faint upon a bosom, which for
the first time seemed to suffer the impression of the hand and lips of
a man, I perceived she had a withered ‘teton’. I struck my forehead:
I examined, and thought I perceived this teton was not formed like the
other. I immediately began to consider how it was possible to have such
a defect, and persuaded of its proceeding from some great natural vice,
I was clearly convinced, that, instead of the most charming person of
whom I could form to myself an idea, I had in my arms a species of
a monster, the refuse of nature, of men and of love. I carried my
stupidity so far as to speak to her of the discovery I had made. She, at
first, took what I said jocosely; and in her frolicsome humor, did and
said things which made me die of love. But perceiving an inquietude I
could not conceal, she at length reddened, adjusted her dress, raised
herself up, and without saying a word, went and placed herself at a
window. I attempted to place myself by her side: she withdrew to a sofa,
rose from it the next moment, and fanning herself as she walked about
the chamber, said to me in a reserved and disdainful tone of voice,
“Zanetto, ‘lascia le donne, a studia la matematica.”--[Leave women and
study mathematics.]
Before I took leave I requested her to appoint another rendezvous
for the next day, which she postponed for three days, adding, with a
satirical smile, that I must needs be in want of repose. I was very ill
at ease during the interval; my heart was full of her charms and graces;
I felt my extravagance, and reproached myself with it, regretting the
loss of the moments I had so ill employed, and which, had I chosen, I
might have rendered more agreeable than any in my whole life; waiting
with the most burning impatience for the moment in which I might repair
the loss, and yet, notwithstanding all my reasoning upon what I had
discovered, anxious to reconcile the perfections of this adorable girl
with the indignity of her situation. I ran, I flew to her apartment at
the hour appointed. I know not whether or not her ardor would have
been more satisfied with this visit, her pride at least would have been
flattered by it, and I already rejoiced at the idea of my convincing
her, in every respect, that I knew how to repair the wrongs I had done.
She spared me this justification. The gondolier whom I had sent to
her apartment brought me for answer that she had set off, the evening
before, for Florence. If I had not felt all the love I had for her
person when this was in my possession, I felt it in the most cruel
manner on losing her. Amiable and charming as she was in my eyes, I
could not console myself for the loss of her; but this I have never been
able to do relative to the contemptuous idea which at her departure she
must have had of me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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