Manon Lescaut
honour, and is ever plunging from deep into deeper vice? You are
silent,' added he: 'look at this counterfeit modesty, this hypocritical
air of gentleness!-- might he not pass for the most respectable member
of his family?'
"Although I could not but feel that I deserved, in some degree, these
reproaches, yet he appeared to me to carry them beyond all reason. I
thought I might be permitted to explain my feelings.
"'I assure you, sir,' said I to him, 'that the modesty which you
ridicule is by no means affected; it is the natural feeling of a son
who entertains sincere respect for his father, and above all, a father
irritated as you justly are by his faults. Neither have I, sir, the
slightest wish to pass for the most respectable member of my family. I
know that I have merited your reproaches, but I conjure you to temper
them with mercy, and not to look upon me as the most infamous of
mankind. I do not deserve such harsh names. It is love, you know it,
that has caused all my errors. Fatal passion! Have you yourself never
felt its force? Is it possible that you, with the same blood in your
veins that flows in mine, should have passed through life unscathed by
the same excitements? Love has rendered me perhaps foolishly
tender--too easily excited--too impassioned--too faithful, and
probably too indulgent to the desires and caprices, or, if you will,
the faults of an adored mistress. These are my crimes; are they such
as to reflect dishonour upon you? Come, my dear father,' said I
tenderly, 'show some pity for a son, who has never ceased to feel
respect and affection for you--who has not renounced, as you say, all
feelings of honour and of duty, and who is himself a thousand times
more an object of pity than you imagine.' I could not help shedding a
tear as I concluded this appeal.
"A father's heart is a chef-d'oeuvre of creation. There nature rules
in undisturbed dominion, and regulates at will its most secret springs.
He was a man of high feeling and good taste, and was so sensibly
affected by the turn I had given to my defence, that he could no longer
hide from me the change I had wrought.
"'Come to me, my poor chevalier,' said he; 'come and embrace me. I do
pity you!'
"I embraced him: he pressed me to him in such a manner, that I guessed
what was passing in his heart.
"'But how are we,' said he, 'to extricate you from this place? Explain
to me the real situation of your affairs.'
"As there really was not anything in my conduct so grossly improper as
to reflect dishonour upon me; at least, in comparison with the conduct
of other young men of a certain station in the world; and as a mistress
is not considered a disgrace, any more than a little dexterity in
drawing some advantage from play, I gave my father a candid detail of
the life I had been leading. As I recounted each transgression, I took
care to cite some illustrious example in my justification, in order to
palliate my own faults.
"'I lived,' said I, 'with a mistress without the solemnity of marriage.
The Duke of ---- keeps two before the eyes of all Paris. M---- D----
has had one now for ten years, and loves her with a fidelity which he
has never shown to his wife. Two-thirds of the men of fashion in Paris
keep mistresses.
"'I certainly have on one or two occasions cheated at play. Well, the
Marquis of ---- and the Count ---- have no other source of revenue.
The Prince of ---- and the Duke of ---- are at the head of a gang of
the same industrious order.' As for the designs I had upon the pockets
of the two G---- M----s, I might just as easily have proved that I had
abundant models for that also; but I had too much pride to plead guilty
to this charge, and rest on the justification of example; so that I
begged of my father to ascribe my weakness on this occasion to the
violence of the two passions which agitated me--Revenge and Love.
"He asked me whether I could suggest any means of obtaining my liberty,
and in such a way as to avoid publicity as much as possible. I told
him of the kind feelings which the lieutenant-general of police had
expressed towards me. 'If you encounter any obstacles,' said I, 'they
will be offered only by the two G---- M----s; so that I think it would
be advisable to call upon them.'
"He promised to do so.
"I did not dare ask him to solicit Manon's liberation; this was not
from want of courage, but from the apprehension of exasperating him by
such a proposition, and perhaps driving him to form some design fatal
to the future happiness of us both. It remains to this hour a problem
whether this fear on my part was not the immediate cause of all my most
terrible misfortunes, by preventing me from ascertaining my father's
disposition, and endeavouring to inspire him with favourable feelings
towards my poor mistress: I might have perhaps once more succeeded in
exciting his commiseration; I might have put him on his guard against
the impression which he was sure of receiving from a visit to old G----
M----. But how can I tell what the consequences would have been! My
unhappy fate would have most probably counteracted all my efforts; but
it would have been a consolation to have had nothing else but that, and
the cruelty of my enemies, to blame for my afflictions.
"On quitting me, my father went to pay a visit to M. G---- M----. He
found him with his son, whom the guardsman had safely restored to
liberty. I never learned the particulars of their conversation; but I
could easily infer them from the disastrous results. They went
together (the two old gentlemen) to the lieutenant-general of police,
from whom they requested one favour each: the first was to have me at
once liberated from Le Chatelet; the second to condemn Manon to
perpetual imprisonment, or to transport her for life to America. They
happened, at that very period, to be sending out a number of convicts
to the Mississippi. The lieutenant-general promised to have her
embarked on board the first vessel that sailed.
"M. G---- M---- and my father came together to bring me the news of my
liberation. M. G---- M---- said something civil with reference to what
had passed; and having congratulated me upon my happiness in having
such a father, he exhorted me to profit henceforward by his instruction
and example. My father desired me to express my sorrow for the
injustice I had even contemplated against his family, and my gratitude
for his having assisted in procuring my liberation.
"We all left the prison together, without the mention of Manon's name.
I dared not in their presence speak of her to the turnkeys. Alas! all
my entreaties in her favour would have been useless. The cruel
sentence upon Manon had arrived at the same time as the warrant for my
discharge. The unfortunate girl was conducted in an hour after to the
Hospital, to be there classed with some other wretched women, who had
been condemned to the same punishment.
"My father having forced me to accompany him to the house where he was
residing, it was near six o'clock before I had an opportunity of
escaping his vigilance. In returning to Le Chatelet, my only wish was
to convey some refreshments to Manon, and to recommend her to the
attention of the porter; for I had no hope of being permitted to see
her; nor had I, as yet, had time to reflect on the best means of
rescuing her.
"I asked for the porter. I had won his heart, as much by my liberality
to him, as by the mildness of my manner; so that, having a disposition
to serve me, he spoke of Manon's sentence as a calamity which he
sincerely regretted, since it was calculated to mortify me. I was at
first unable to comprehend his meaning. We conversed for some minutes
without my understanding him. At length perceiving that an explanation
was necessary, he gave me such a one, as on a former occasion I wanted
courage to relate to you, and which, even now, makes my blood curdle in
my veins to remember."
[1] Who has e'er been at Paris must needs know the Greve,
The fatal retreat of th' unfortunate brave,
Where honour and justice most oddly contribute,
To ease heroes' pains by the halter and gibbet.--PRIOR.
XI
Alack! it is not when we sleep soft and wake merrily that we think on
other people's sufferings; but when the hour of trouble comes, said
Jeanie Deans.--WALTER SCOTT.
"Never did apoplexy produce on mortal a more sudden or terrific effect
than did the announcement of Manon's sentence upon me. I fell
prostrate, with so intense a palpitation of the heart, that as I
swooned I thought that death itself was come upon me. This idea
continued even after I had been restored to my senses. I gazed around
me upon every part of the room, then upon my own paralysed limbs,
doubting, in my delirium, whether I still bore about me the attributes
of a living man. It is quite certain that, in obedience to the desire
I felt of terminating my sufferings, even by my own hand, nothing could
have been to me more welcome than death at that moment of anguish and
despair. Religion itself could depict nothing more insupportable after
death than the racking agony with which I was then convulsed. Yet, by a
miracle, only within the power of omnipotent love, I soon regained
strength enough to express my gratitude to Heaven for restoring me to
sense and reason. My death could have only been a relief and blessing
to myself; whereas Manon had occasion for my prolonged existence, in
order to deliver her--to succour her--to avenge her wrongs: I swore to
devote that existence unremittingly to these objects.
"The porter gave me every assistance that I could have expected at the
hands of my oldest friend: I accepted his services with the liveliest
gratitude. 'Alas!' said I to him, 'you then are affected by my
sufferings! The whole world abandons me; my own father proves one of
the very cruellest of my persecutors; no person feels pity for me! You
alone, in this abode of suffering and shame--you alone exhibit
compassion for the most wretched of mankind!' He advised me not to
appear in the street until I had recovered a little from my affliction.
'Do not stop me,' said I, as I went out; 'we shall meet again sooner
than you imagine: get ready your darkest dungeon, for I shall shortly
become its tenant.'
"In fact, my first idea was nothing less than to make away with the two
G---- M----s, and the lieutenant-general of police; and then to attack
the Hospital, sword in hand, assisted by all whom I could enlist in my
cause. Even my father's life was hardly respected, so just appeared my
feelings of vengeance; for the porter had informed me that he and G----
M---- were jointly the authors of my ruin.
"But when I had advanced some paces into the street, and the fresh air
had cooled my excitement, I gradually viewed matters in a more rational
mood. The death of our enemies could be of little use to Manon; and
the obvious effect of such violence would be to deprive me of all other
chance of serving her. Besides, could I ever bring myself to be a
cowardly assassin? By what other means could I accomplish my revenge?
I set all my ingenuity and all my efforts at work to procure the
deliverance of Manon, leaving everything else to be considered
hereafter when I had succeeded in this first and paramount object.
"I had very little money left; money, however, was an indispensable
basis for all my operations. I only knew three persons from whom I had
any right to ask pecuniary assistance--M. de T----, Tiberge, and my
father. There appeared little chance of obtaining any from the two
latter, and I was really ashamed again to importune M. de T----. But
it is not in desperate emergencies that one stands upon points of
ceremony. I went first to the seminary of St. Sulpice, without