Manon Lescaut
considering whether I should be recognised. I asked for Tiberge. His
first words showed me that he knew nothing of my latest adventure: this
made me change the design I had originally formed of appealing at once
to his compassion. I spoke generally of the pleasure it had given me
to see my father again; and I then begged of him to lend me some money,
under the pretext of being anxious before I left Paris to pay a few
little debts, which I wished to keep secret. He handed me his purse,
without a single remark. I took twenty or twenty-five pounds, which it
contained. I offered him my note of hand, but he was too generous to
accept it.
"I then went to M. de T----: I had no reserve with him. I plainly told
him my misfortunes and distress: he already knew everything, and had
informed himself even of the most trifling circumstance, on account of
the interest he naturally took in young G---- M----'s adventure. He,
however, listened to me, and seemed sincerely to lament what had
occurred. When I consulted him as to the best means of rescuing Manon,
he answered that he saw such little ground for hope, that, without some
extraordinary interposition of Providence, it would be folly to expect
relief; that he had paid a visit expressly to the Hospital since Manon
had been transferred from the Chatelet, but that he could not even
obtain permission to see her, as the lieutenant-general of police had
given the strictest orders to the contrary; and that, to complete the
catastrophe, the unfortunate train of convicts, in which she was to be
included, was to take its departure from Paris the day but one after.
"I was so confounded by what he said, that if he had gone on speaking
for another hour, I should not have interrupted him. He continued to
tell me, that the reason of his not calling to see me at the Chatelet
was, that he hoped to be of more use by appearing to be unknown to me;
that for the last few hours, since I had been set at liberty, he had in
vain looked for me, in order to suggest the only plan through which he
could see a hope of averting Manon's fate. He told me it was dangerous
counsel to give, and implored me never to mention the part he took in
it; it was to find some enterprising fellows gallant enough to attack
Manon's guard on getting outside the barriere. Nor did he wait for me
to urge a plea of poverty. 'Here is fifty pounds,' he said, presenting
me his purse; 'it may be of use to you; you can repay me when you are
in better circumstances.' He added, that if the fear of losing his
character did not prevent him from embarking in such an enterprise, he
would have willingly put his sword and his life at my service.
"This unlooked-for generosity affected me to tears. I expressed my
gratitude with as much warmth as my depressed spirits left at my
command. I asked him if there were nothing to be expected from
interceding with the lieutenant-general of police: he said that he had
considered that point; but that he looked upon it as a hopeless
attempt, because a favour of that nature was never accorded without
some strong motive, and he did not see what inducement could be held
out for engaging the intercession of any person of power on her behalf;
that if any hope could possibly be entertained upon the point, it must
be by working a change in the feelings of old G---- M---- and my
father, and by prevailing on them to solicit from the
lieutenant-general of police the revocation of Manon's sentence. He
offered to do everything in his power to gain over the younger G----
M----, although he fancied a coldness in that gentleman's manner
towards him, probably from some suspicions he might entertain of his
being concerned in the late affair; and he entreated me to lose no
opportunity of effecting the desired change in my father's mind.
"This was no easy undertaking for me; not only on account of the
difficulty I should naturally meet in overcoming his opinion, but for
another reason which made me fear even to approach him; I had quitted
his lodgings contrary to his express orders, and was resolved, since I
had learned the sad fate of my poor Manon, never again to return
thither. I was not without apprehensions indeed of his now retaining
me against my will, and perhaps taking me at once back with him into
the country. My elder brother had formerly had recourse to this
violent measure. True, I was now somewhat older; but age is a feeble
argument against force. I hit upon a mode, however, of avoiding this
danger, which was to get him by contrivance to some public place, and
there announce myself to him under an assumed name: I immediately
resolved on this method. M. de T---- went to G---- M----'s, and I to
the Luxembourg, whence I sent my father word, that a gentleman waited
there to speak with him. I hardly thought he would come, as the night
was advancing. He, however, soon made his appearance, followed by a
servant: I begged of him to choose a walk where we could be alone. We
walked at least a hundred paces without speaking. He doubtless
imagined that so much precaution could not be taken without some
important object. He waited for my opening speech, and I was
meditating how to commence it.
"At length I began.
"'Sir,' said I, trembling, 'you are a good and affectionate parent; you
have loaded me with favours, and have forgiven me an infinite number of
faults; I also, in my turn, call Heaven to witness the sincere, and
tender, and respectful sentiments I entertain towards you. But it does
seem to me, that your inexorable severity----'
"'Well, sir, my severity!' interrupted my father, who no doubt found my
hesitation little suited to his impatience.
"'Ah, sir,' I replied, 'it does seem to me that your severity is
excessive in the penalty you inflict upon the unfortunate Manon. You
have taken only M. G---- M----'s report of her. His hatred has made
him represent her to you in the most odious colours: you have formed a
frightful idea of her. She is, on the contrary, the mildest and most
amiable of living creatures; would that Heaven had but inspired you at
any one moment with the desire of seeing her! I am convinced that you
would be not less sensible of her perfections than your unhappy son.
You would then have been her advocate; you would have abhorred the foul
artifices of G---- M----; you would have had pity on both her and me.
Alas! I am persuaded of it; your heart is not insensible; it must ere
now have melted with compassion.'
"He interrupted me again, perceiving that I spoke with a warmth which
would not allow me to finish very briefly. He begged to know with what
request I intended to wind up so fervent an harangue.
"'To ask my life at your hands,' said I, 'which I never can retain if
Manon once embark for America.'
"'No! no!' replied he, in the severest tone; 'I would rather see you
lifeless, than infamous and depraved.'
"'We have gone far enough, then,' said I, catching hold of his arm;
'take from me, in common mercy, my life! weary and odious and
insupportable as it henceforward must be; for in the state of despair
into which you now plunge me, death would be the greatest favour you
could bestow--a favour worthy of a father's hand.'
"'I should only give you what you deserve,' replied he; 'I know fathers
who would not have shown as much patience as I have, but would
themselves have executed speedy justice; but it is my foolish and
excessive forbearance that has been your ruin.'
"I threw myself at his feet: 'Ah!' exclaimed I, 'if you have still any
remains of mercy, do not harden your heart against my distress and
sorrow. Remember that I am your child! Alas! think of my poor mother!
you loved her tenderly! would you have suffered her to be torn from
your arms? You would have defended her to the death! May not the same
feeling then be pardoned in others? Can persons become barbarous and
cruel, after having themselves experienced the softening influence of
tenderness and grief?'
"'Breathe not again the sacred name of your mother,' he exclaimed, in a
voice of thunder; 'the very allusion to her memory rouses my
indignation. Had she lived to witness the unredeemed profligacy of
your life, it would have brought her in pain and sorrow to her
grave.--Let us put an end to this discussion' he added; 'it distresses
me, and makes not the slightest change in my determination: I am going
back to my lodgings, and I desire you to follow me.'
"The cool and resolute tone in which he uttered this command, convinced
me that he was inexorable. I stepped some paces aside, for fear he
should think fit to lay hands upon me.
"'Do not increase my misery and despair,' said I to him, 'by forcing me
to disobey you. It is impossible for me to follow you; and equally so
that I should continue to live, after the unkind treatment I have
experienced from you. I, therefore, bid you an eternal adieu. When
you know that I am dead, as I shall soon be, the paternal affection
which you once entertained for me may be perhaps revived.'
"As I was about to turn away from him: 'You refuse then to follow me,'
cried he, in a tone of excessive anger. 'Go! go on to your ruin.
Adieu! ungrateful and disobedient boy.'
"'Adieu!' exclaimed I to him, in a burst of grief, 'adieu, cruel and
unnatural father!'
"I left the Luxembourg, and rushed like a madman through the streets to
M. de T----'s house. I raised my hands and eyes as I went along,
invoking the Almighty Powers: 'O Heaven,' cried I, 'will you not prove
more merciful than man! The only hope that remains to me is from
above!'
"M. de T---- had not yet returned home; but he arrived before many
minutes had elapsed. His negotiation had been as unsuccessful as my
own. He told me so with the most sorrowful countenance. Young G----
M----, although less irritated than his father against Manon and me,
would not undertake to petition in our favour. He was, in great
measure, deterred by the fear which he himself had of the vindictive
old lecher, who had already vented his anger against him for his design
of forming a connection with Manon.
"There only remained to me, therefore, the violent measures which M.
T---- had suggested. I now confined all my hopes to them. They were
questionless most uncertain; but they held out to me, at least, a
substantial consolation, in the certainty of meeting death in the
attempt, if unsuccessful. I left him, begging that he would offer up
his best wishes for my triumph; and I thought only of finding some
companions, to whom I might communicate a portion of my own courage and
determination.
"The first that occurred to me was the same guardsman whom I had
employed to arrest G---- M----. I had intended indeed to pass the
night at his rooms, not having had a moment of leisure during the
afternoon to procure myself a lodging. I found him alone. He was glad
to see me out of the Chatelet. He made me an offer of his services. I
explained to him in what way he might now do me the greatest kindness.
He had good sense enough to perceive all the difficulties; but he was
also generous enough to undertake to surmount them.
"We spent part of the night in considering how the plot was to be
executed. He spoke of the three soldiers whom he had made use of on
the last occasion, as men whose courage had been proved. M. de T----
had told me the exact number of archers that would escort Manon; they
were but six. Five strong and determined men could not fail to strike
terror into these fellows, who would never think of defending
themselves bravely, when they were to be allowed the alternative of
avoiding danger by surrendering; and of that they would no doubt avail
themselves. As I was not without money, the guardsman advised me to