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
the presence of the monk) he endeavored to stifle; it was, however,
sufficient to let me understand he had already received information of
me, and that our worthy clerk had rendered me an ill office.
We had hardly risen from table, when the latter came in triumph from his
employer, to inform me, I must leave the house that instant, and never
more during my life dare to set foot there. He took care to aggravate
this commission by everything that could render it cruel and insulting.
I departed without a word, my heart overwhelmed with sorrow, less for
being obliged to quit this amiable woman, than at the thought of leaving
her to the brutality of such a husband. He was certainly right to wish
her faithful; but though prudent and wellborn, she was an Italian, that
is to say, tender and vindictive; which made me think, he was extremely
imprudent in using means the most likely in the world to draw on himself
the very evil he so much dreaded.
Such was the success of my first adventure. I walked several times up
and down the street, wishing to get a sight of what my heart incessantly
regretted; but I could only discover her husband, or the vigilant clerk,
who, perceiving me, made a sign with the ell they used in the shop,
which was more expressive than alluring: finding, therefore, that I was
so completely watched, my courage failed, and I went no more. I
wished, at least, to find out the patron she had provided me, but,
unfortunately, I did not know his name. I ranged several times round the
convent, endeavoring in vain to meet with him. At length, other events
banished the delightful remembrance of Madam Basile; and in a short
time I so far forgot her, that I remained as simple, as much a novice
as ever, nor did my penchant for pretty women even receive any sensible
augmentation.
Her liberality had, however, increased my little wardrobe, though she
had done this with precaution and prudence, regarding neatness more than
decoration, and to make me comfortable rather than brilliant. The coat I
had brought from Geneva was yet wearable, she only added a hat and some
linen. I had no ruffles, nor would she give me any, not but I felt a
great inclination for them. She was satisfied with having put it in my
power to keep myself clean, though a charge to do this was unnecessary
while I was to appear before her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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