The Mysteries of Paris. Эжен Сю

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СКАЧАТЬ a poet and a painter combined."

      "The praises of your royal highness are so much the more dangerous from the skill and cleverness with which they are uttered, and which makes us listen to them with delight, even in defiance of our sternest resolutions. But allow me to call your royal highness's attention to the very lovely person who is approaching us. I must have you admit that the Marquise d'Harville must shine preeminently beautiful any and every where. Is she not graceful? And does not the gentle elegance of her whole appearance acquire a fresh charm, from the contrast with the severe yet classic beauty by whom she is accompanied?"

      The individuals thus alluded to were the Countess Sarah Macgregor and the Marquise d'Harville, who were at this moment descending the steps which led from the gallery to the winter garden. Neither was the panegyric bestowed by the ambassadress on Madame d'Harville at all exaggerated. No words can accurately describe the loveliness of her person, and the Marquise d'Harville was then in the first bloom of youthful charms; but her beauty, delicate and fragile as it was, appeared less to belong to the strict regularity of her features than to the irresistible expression of sweetness and universal kindness, which imparted a charm to her countenance impossible to resist or to describe; and this peculiar charm served invariably to distinguish Madame d'Harville from all other fashionable beauties; for goodness of heart and kindliness of disposition are but rarely seen as the prevailing passions revealed in a face as fair, as young, high-born, and ardently worshipped by all, as was the Marquise d'Harville, who shone forth in all her lustre as the brightest star in the galaxy of fashion. Too wise, virtuous, and right-minded to listen to the host of flatterers by whom she was surrounded, Madame d'Harville smiled as gratefully on all as though she could have given them credit for speaking the truth, had not her own modest opinion of her just claims to such homage have forbidden her accepting of praise she never could have deserved. Wholly indifferent to flattery, yet sensibly alive to kindness, she perfectly distinguished between sympathy and insincerity. Her acute penetration, correct judgment, and lively wit, unmixed by the slightest ill-nature, made her wage an early, though good-tempered war with those vain and egotistical beings who crowd and oppress society with the view of monopolising general attention, and, blinded by their own self-love, expect one universal deference and submission.

      "Those kind of persons," said Madame d'Harville one day, laughingly, "appear to me as if their whole lives were passed in dancing 'Le Cavalier Seul' before an invisible mirror."

      An unassuming and unpretending person, however reserved and consequently unpopular he might be with others, was sure to find a steady friend and partial observer in Madame d'Harville.

      This trifling digression is absolutely essential to the right understanding of facts of which we shall speak hereafter.

      The complexion of Madame d'Harville was of the purest white, tinged with the most delicate carnation; her long tresses of bright chestnut hair floated over her beautifully formed shoulders, white and polished as marble. It would be an impossible task to describe her large dark gray eyes, fringed with their thick lashes, and beaming with angelic sweetness; her coral lips, with their gentle smile, gave to her eyes the indefinable charm that her affable and winning mode of expressing herself derived from their mild and angelic expression of approving goodness. We will not farther delay the reader by describing the perfection of her figure, nor dwell upon the distinguished air which marked her whole appearance. She wore a white crape dress, trimmed with the natural flowers of the camellia, intermixed with its own rich green leaves. Here and there a diamond sparkled among the waxy petals, as if a dewdrop fresh from its native skies had fallen there. A garland of the same flowers, equally ornamented with precious stones, was placed with infinite grace upon her fair and open brow.

      The peculiar style of the Countess Sarah Macgregor's beauty served to set off the fair feminine loveliness of her companion. Though turned thirty-five years of age, Sarah looked much younger. Nothing appears to preserve the body more effectually from all the attacks of sickness or decay than a cold-hearted, egotistical disregard of every one but ourselves; it encrusts the body with a cold, icy covering, which alike resists the inroads of bodily or mental wear and tear. To this cause may be ascribed the wonderful preservation of Countess Sarah's appearance.

      The lady whose name we last mentioned wore a dress of pale amber watered silk, beneath a crape tunic of the same colour. A simple wreath of the dark leaves of the Pyrus Japonicus encircled her head, and harmonised admirably with the bandeaux of raven hair it confined. This classically severe mode of head-dress gave to the profile of this imperious woman the character and resemblance of an antique statue. Many persons, mistaking their real cast of countenance, imagine some peculiar vocation delineated in their traits. Thus one man, who fancies he possesses a warlike air, assumes the warrior; another imagines

      "His eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,"

      marks him out as a poet; instantly he turns down his shirt-collar, adopts poetical language, and writes himself poet. So the self-imagined conspirator wastes days and hours in pondering over mighty deeds he feels called upon to do. The politician, upon the same terms, bores the world and his friends with his perpetual outpourings upon political economy; and the man whose saintly turn of countenance persuades its owner into the belief of a corresponding character within, forthwith abjures the pomps and vanities of the world, and aims at reforming his brethren by his pulpit eloquence. Now, ambition being Sarah's ruling passion, and her noble and aristocratical features well assisting the delusion, she smiled as the word "diadem" crossed her thoughts, and lent a willing ear to the predictions of her Highland nurse, and firmly believed herself predestined to a sovereign destiny. Spite of the trifling embonpoint that gave to her figure (which, though fatter than Madame d'Harville's, was not less slender and nymph-like) a voluptuous gracefulness, Sarah boasted of all the freshness of early youth, and few could long sustain the fire of her black and piercing eyes; her nose was aquiline; her finely formed mouth and rich ruby lips were expressive of the highest determination, haughtiness, and pride.

      The marquise and Sarah had recognised Rodolph in the winter garden at the moment they were descending into it from the gallery; but the prince feigned not to observe their presence.

      "The prince is so absorbed with the ambassadress," said Madame d'Harville to Sarah, "that he pays not the slightest attention to us."

      "You are quite mistaken, my dear Clémence," rejoined the countess; "the prince saw us as quickly and as plainly as we saw him, but I frightened him away; you see he still bears malice with me."

      "I am more than ever at a loss to understand the singular obstinacy with which he persists in shunning you—you, formerly an old friend. 'Countess Sarah and myself are sworn enemies,' replied he to me once in a joking manner; 'I have made a vow never to speak to her; and you may judge how sacred must be the vow that hinders me from conversing with so charming a lady.' And, strange and unaccountable as was this reply, I had no alternative but to submit to it."

      "And yet I can assure you that the cause of this deadly feud, half in jest, and half in earnest as it is, originates in the most simple circumstance. Were it not that a third party is implicated in it, I should have explained the whole to you long ago. But what is the matter, my dear child? You seem as though your thoughts were far from the present scene."

      "Nothing, nothing, I assure you," replied the marquise, faintly; "but the gallery is so very hot, it gave me a violent headache. Let us sit down here for a minute or two. I hope and believe it will soon be better."

      "You are right; see, here is a nice quiet corner, where you will be in perfect safety from the researches of those who are lamenting your absence," added Sarah, pronouncing the last words with marked emphasis.

      The two ladies then seated themselves on a divan, almost concealed beneath the clustering shrubs and overhanging plants.

      "I said those who would be lamenting your absence, my dear Clémence—come, own that I deserve СКАЧАТЬ