Scenes from a Courtesan's Life [120]
on the ledge of the box with his elbow, resting his chin on his gloved hand; then he half turned away, waiting for a word. By the middle of the act the Countess had still neither spoken to him nor looked at him.
"I do not know," said she at last, "why you are here; your place is in Mademoiselle Esther's box----"
"I will go there," said Lucien, leaving the box without looking at the Countess.
"My dear," said Madame du Val-Noble, going into Esther's box with Peyrade, whom the Baron de Nucingen did not recognize, "I am delighted to introduce Mr. Samuel Johnson. He is a great admirer of M. de Nucingen's talents."
"Indeed, monsieur," said Esther, smiling at Peyrade.
"Oh yes, bocou," said Peyrade.
"Why, Baron, here is a way of speaking French which is as much like yours as the low Breton dialect is like that of Burgundy. It will be most amusing to hear you discuss money matters.--Do you know, Monsieur Nabob, what I shall require of you if you are to make acquaintance with my Baron?" said Esther with a smile.
"Oh!--Thank you so much, you will introduce me to Sir Baronet?" said Peyrade with an extravagant English accent.
"Yes," said she, "you must give me the pleasure of your company at supper. There is no pitch stronger than champagne for sticking men together. It seals every kind of business, above all such as you put your foot in.--Come this evening; you will find some jolly fellows.-- As for you, my little Frederic," she added in the Baron's ear, "you have your carriage here--just drive to the Rue Saint-Georges and bring Europe to me here; I have a few words to say to her about the supper. I have caught Lucien; he will bring two men who will be fun.--We will draw the Englishman," she whispered to Madame du Val-Noble.
Peyrade and the Baron left the women together.
"Oh, my dear, if you ever succeed in drawing that great brute, you will be clever indeed," said Suzanne.
"If it proves impossible, you must lend him to me for a week," replied Esther, laughing.
"You would but keep him half a day," replied Madame du Val-Noble. "The bread I eat is too hard; it breaks my teeth. Never again, to my dying day, will I try to make an Englishman happy. They are all cold and selfish--pigs on their hind legs."
"What, no consideration?" said Esther with a smile.
"On the contrary, my dear, the monster has never shown the least familiarity."
"Under no circumstances whatever?" asked Esther.
"The wretch always addresses me as Madame, and preserves the most perfect coolness imaginable at moments when every man is more or less amenable. To him love-making!--on my word, it is nothing more nor less than shaving himself. He wipes the razor, puts it back in its case, and looks in the glass as if he were saying, 'I have not cut myself!'
"Then he treats me with such respect as is enough to send a woman mad. That odious Milord Potboiler amuses himself by making poor Theodore hide in my dressing-room and stand there half the day. In short, he tries to annoy me in every way. And as stingy!--As miserly as Gobseck and Gigonnet rolled into one. He takes me out to dinner, but he does not pay the cab that brings me home if I happen not to have ordered my carriage to fetch me."
"Well," said Esther, "but what does he pay you for your services?"
"Oh, my dear, positively nothing. Five hundred francs a month and not a penny more, and the hire of a carriage. But what is it? A machine such as they hire out for a third-rate wedding to carry an epicier to the Mairie, to Church, and to the Cadran bleu.--Oh, he nettles me with his respect.
"If I try hysterics and feel ill, he is never vexed; he only says: 'I wish my lady to have her own way, for there is nothing more detestable --no gentleman--than to say to a nice woman, "You are a cotton bale, a bundle of merchandise."--Ha, hah! Are you a member of the Temperance Society and anti-slavery?' And my horror sits pale, and cold, and hard while he gives me to understand that he has as much respect for me as he might have for a Negro, and that it has nothing to do with his
"I do not know," said she at last, "why you are here; your place is in Mademoiselle Esther's box----"
"I will go there," said Lucien, leaving the box without looking at the Countess.
"My dear," said Madame du Val-Noble, going into Esther's box with Peyrade, whom the Baron de Nucingen did not recognize, "I am delighted to introduce Mr. Samuel Johnson. He is a great admirer of M. de Nucingen's talents."
"Indeed, monsieur," said Esther, smiling at Peyrade.
"Oh yes, bocou," said Peyrade.
"Why, Baron, here is a way of speaking French which is as much like yours as the low Breton dialect is like that of Burgundy. It will be most amusing to hear you discuss money matters.--Do you know, Monsieur Nabob, what I shall require of you if you are to make acquaintance with my Baron?" said Esther with a smile.
"Oh!--Thank you so much, you will introduce me to Sir Baronet?" said Peyrade with an extravagant English accent.
"Yes," said she, "you must give me the pleasure of your company at supper. There is no pitch stronger than champagne for sticking men together. It seals every kind of business, above all such as you put your foot in.--Come this evening; you will find some jolly fellows.-- As for you, my little Frederic," she added in the Baron's ear, "you have your carriage here--just drive to the Rue Saint-Georges and bring Europe to me here; I have a few words to say to her about the supper. I have caught Lucien; he will bring two men who will be fun.--We will draw the Englishman," she whispered to Madame du Val-Noble.
Peyrade and the Baron left the women together.
"Oh, my dear, if you ever succeed in drawing that great brute, you will be clever indeed," said Suzanne.
"If it proves impossible, you must lend him to me for a week," replied Esther, laughing.
"You would but keep him half a day," replied Madame du Val-Noble. "The bread I eat is too hard; it breaks my teeth. Never again, to my dying day, will I try to make an Englishman happy. They are all cold and selfish--pigs on their hind legs."
"What, no consideration?" said Esther with a smile.
"On the contrary, my dear, the monster has never shown the least familiarity."
"Under no circumstances whatever?" asked Esther.
"The wretch always addresses me as Madame, and preserves the most perfect coolness imaginable at moments when every man is more or less amenable. To him love-making!--on my word, it is nothing more nor less than shaving himself. He wipes the razor, puts it back in its case, and looks in the glass as if he were saying, 'I have not cut myself!'
"Then he treats me with such respect as is enough to send a woman mad. That odious Milord Potboiler amuses himself by making poor Theodore hide in my dressing-room and stand there half the day. In short, he tries to annoy me in every way. And as stingy!--As miserly as Gobseck and Gigonnet rolled into one. He takes me out to dinner, but he does not pay the cab that brings me home if I happen not to have ordered my carriage to fetch me."
"Well," said Esther, "but what does he pay you for your services?"
"Oh, my dear, positively nothing. Five hundred francs a month and not a penny more, and the hire of a carriage. But what is it? A machine such as they hire out for a third-rate wedding to carry an epicier to the Mairie, to Church, and to the Cadran bleu.--Oh, he nettles me with his respect.
"If I try hysterics and feel ill, he is never vexed; he only says: 'I wish my lady to have her own way, for there is nothing more detestable --no gentleman--than to say to a nice woman, "You are a cotton bale, a bundle of merchandise."--Ha, hah! Are you a member of the Temperance Society and anti-slavery?' And my horror sits pale, and cold, and hard while he gives me to understand that he has as much respect for me as he might have for a Negro, and that it has nothing to do with his