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Manon Lescaut

by abbé Prévost · English · Gutenberg #468 · 363,878 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Manon Lescaut

Author: abbé Prévost


        
Release date: March 1, 1996 [eBook #468]
                Most recently updated: January 1, 2021

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/468


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MANON LESCAUT ***













MANON LESCAUT

by

Abbé Prévost





I


  Why did he love her?  Curious fool, be still!
  Is human love the fruit of human will?
        BYRON.


Just about six months before my departure for Spain, I first met the
Chevalier des Grieux.  Though I rarely quitted my retreat, still the
interest I felt in my child's welfare induced me occasionally to
undertake short journeys, which, however, I took good care to abridge
as much as possible.

I was one day returning from Rouen, where I had been, at her request,
to attend a cause then pending before the Parliament of Normandy,
respecting an inheritance to which I had claims derived from my
maternal grandfather.  Having taken the road by Evreux, where I slept
the first night, I on the following day, about dinner-time, reached
Passy, a distance of five or six leagues.  I was amazed, on entering
this quiet town, to see all the inhabitants in commotion.  They were
pouring from their houses in crowds, towards the gate of a small inn,
immediately before which two covered vans were drawn up.  Their horses
still in harness, and reeking from fatigue and heat, showed that the
cortege had only just arrived.  I stopped for a moment to learn the
cause of the tumult, but could gain little information from the curious
mob as they rushed by, heedless of my enquiries, and hastening
impatiently towards the inn in the utmost confusion.  At length an
archer of the civic guard, wearing his bandolier, and carrying a
carbine on his shoulder, appeared at the gate; so, beckoning him
towards me, I begged to know the cause of the uproar. "Nothing, sir,"
said he, "but a dozen of the frail sisterhood, that I and my comrades
are conducting to Havre-de-Grace, whence we are to ship them for
America.  There are one or two of them pretty enough; and it is that,
apparently, which attracts the curiosity of these good people."

I should have passed on, satisfied with this explanation, if my
attention had not been arrested by the cries of an old woman, who was
coming out of the inn with her hands clasped, and exclaiming:

"A downright barbarity!--A scene to excite horror and compassion!"
"What may this mean?" I enquired.  "Oh! sir; go into the house
yourself," said the woman, "and see if it is not a sight to rend your
heart!"  Curiosity made me dismount; and leaving my horse to the care
of the ostler, I made my way with some difficulty through the crowd,
and did indeed behold a scene sufficiently touching.

Among the twelve girls, who were chained together by the waist in two
rows, there was one, whose whole air and figure seemed so ill-suited to
her present condition, that under other circumstances I should not have
hesitated to pronounce her a person of high birth.  Her excessive
grief, and even the wretchedness of her attire, detracted so little
from her surpassing beauty, that at first sight of her I was inspired
with a mingled feeling of respect and pity.

She tried, as well as the chain would permit her, to turn herself away,
and hide her face from the rude gaze of the spectators. There was
something so unaffected in the effort she made to escape observation,
that it could but have sprung from natural and innate modesty alone.

As the six men who escorted the unhappy train were together in the
room, I took the chief one aside and asked for information respecting
this beautiful girl.  All that he could supply was of the most vague
kind.  "We brought her," he said, "from the Hospital, by order of the
lieutenant-general of police.  There is no reason to suppose that she
was shut up there for good conduct.

"I have questioned her often upon the road; but she persists in
refusing even to answer me.  Yet, although I received no orders to make
any distinction between her and the others, I cannot help treating her
differently, for she seems to me somewhat superior to her companions.
Yonder is a young man," continued the archer, "who can tell you, better
than I can, the cause of her misfortunes.  He has followed her from
Paris, and has scarcely dried his tears for a single moment.  He must
be either her brother or her lover."

I turned towards the corner of the room, where this young man was
seated.  He seemed buried in a profound reverie.  Never did I behold a
more affecting picture of grief.  He was plainly dressed; but one may
discover at the first glance a man of birth and education.  As I
approached him he rose, and there was so refined and noble an
expression in his eyes, in his whole countenance, in his every
movement, that I felt an involuntary impulse to render him any service
in my power.  "I am unwilling to intrude upon your sorrows," said I,
taking a seat beside him, "but you will, perhaps, gratify the desire I
feel to learn something about that beautiful girl, who seems little
formed by nature for the miserable condition in which she is placed."

He answered me candidly, that he could not communicate her history
without making himself known, and that he had urgent reasons for
preserving his own incognito.  "I may, however, tell you this much, for
it is no longer a secret to these wretches," he continued, pointing to
the guards,--"that I adore her with a passion so ardent and absorbing
as to render me the most unhappy of human beings.  I tried every means
at Paris to effect her liberty.       Petitions, artifice, force--all
failed.  Go where she may, I have resolved to follow her--to the
extremity of the world.  I shall embark with her and cross to America.

"But think of the brutal inhumanity of these cowardly ruffians," he
added, speaking of the guards; "they will not allow me to approach her!
I had planned an open attack upon them some leagues from Paris; having
secured, as I thought, the aid of four men, who for a considerable sum
hired me their services.  The traitors, however, left me to execute my
scheme single-handed, and decamped with my money.  The impossibility of
success made me of course abandon the attempt, I then implored of the
guards permission to follow in their train, promising them a
recompense. The love of money procured their consent; but as they
required payment every time I was allowed to speak to her, my purse was
speedily emptied; and now that I am utterly penniless, they are
barbarous enough to repulse me brutally, whenever I make the slightest
attempt to approach her.  It is but a moment since, that venturing to
do so, in spite of their threats, one of the fellows raised the
butt-end of his musket.  I am now driven by their exactions to dispose
of the miserable horse that has brought me hither, and am preparing to
continue the journey on foot."

Although he seemed to recite this story tranquilly enough, I observed
the tears start to his eyes as he concluded.  This adventure struck me
as being not less singular than it was affecting.  "I do not press
you," said I to him, "to make me the confidant of your secrets; but if
I can be of use to you in any way, I gladly tender you my services."
"Alas!" replied he, "I see not the slightest ray of hope.  I must
reconcile myself to my destiny in all its rigour.  I shall go to
America: there, at least, I may be free to live with her I love.  I
have written to a friend, who will send me money to Havre-de-Grace.  My
only difficulty is to get so far, and to supply that poor creature,"
added he, as he cast a look of sorrow at his mistress, "with some few
comforts upon the way."  "Well!" said I to him, "I shall relieve you
from that difficulty.  Here is some money, of which I entreat your
acceptance: I am only sorry that I can be of no greater service to you."

I gave him four louis-d'ors without being perceived by the guards; for
I thought that if they knew he had this money, they might have raised
the price of their concessions.  It occurred to me, even, to come to an
understanding with them, in order to secure for the young man the
privilege of conversing with his mistress, during the rest of the
journey to Havre, without hindrance.  I beckoned the chief to approach,
and made the proposition to him.  It seemed to abash the ruffian, in
spite of his habitual effrontery.  "It is not, sir," said he, in an
embarrassed tone, "that we refuse to let him speak to the girl, but he
wishes to be always near her, which puts us to inconvenience; and it is
just that we should be paid for the trouble he occasions."  "Let us
see!" said I to him, "what would suffice to prevent you from feeling
the inconvenience?" He had the audacity to demand two louis.  I gave
them to him on the spot.  "But have a care," said I to him, "that we
have no foul play: for I shall give the young man my address, in order
that he may write to me on his arrival; and be assured that I am not
without the power to punish you."  It cost me altogether six
louis-d'ors.

The graceful manner and heartfelt gratitude with which the young
unknown thanked me, confirmed my notion that he was of good birth and
merited my kindness.  I addressed a few words to his mistress before I
left the room.  She replied to me with a modesty so gentle and so
charming that I could not help making, as I went out, a thousand
reflections upon the incomprehensible character of women.

Returned to my retreat, I remained in ignorance of the result of this
adventure; and ere two years had passed, it was completely blotted from
my recollection, when chance brought me an opportunity of learning all
the circumstances from beginning to end.

I arrived at Calais, from London, with my pupil, the Marquis of ----.
We lodged, if I remember rightly, at the "Golden Lion," where, for some
reason, we were obliged to spend the following day and night.  Walking
along the streets in the afternoon, I fancied I saw the same young man
whom I had formerly met at Passy.  He was miserably dressed, and much
paler than when I first saw him.  He carried on his arm an old
portmanteau, having only just arrived in the town.  However, there was
an expression in his countenance too amiable not to be easily
recognised, and which immediately brought his features to my
recollection. "Observe that young man," said I to the Marquis; "we must
accost him."

His joy was beyond expression when, in his turn, he recognised me.

"Ah, sir!" he cried, kissing my hand, "I have then once again an
opportunity of testifying my eternal gratitude to you!"  I enquired of
him whence he came.  He replied, that he had just arrived, by sea, from
Havre, where he had lately landed from America.  "You do not seem to be
too well off for money," said I to him; "go on to the 'Golden Lion,'
where I am lodging; I will join you in a moment."

I returned, in fact, full of impatience to learn the details of his
misfortunes, and the circumstances of his voyage to America. I gave him
a thousand welcomes, and ordered that they should supply him with
everything he wanted.  He did not wait to be solicited for the history
of his life.  "Sir," said he to me, "your conduct is so generous, that
I should consider it base ingratitude to maintain any reserve towards
you.  You shall learn not only my misfortunes and sufferings, but my
faults and most culpable weaknesses.  I am sure that, even while you
blame me, you will not refuse me your sympathy."

I should here inform the reader that I wrote down the story almost
immediately after hearing it; and he may, therefore, be assured of the
correctness and fidelity of the narrative.  I use the word fidelity
with reference to the substance of reflections and sentiments, which
the young man conveyed in the most graceful language.  Here, then, is
his story, which in its progress I shall not encumber with a single
observation that was not his own.



II


  I loved Ophelia! forty thousand brothers
  Could not, with all their quantity of love,
  Make up my sum.
      SHAKESPEARE.


"I was seventeen years old, and was finishing my studies at Amiens,
whither my parents, who belonged to one of the first families in
Picardy, had sent me.  I led a life so studious and well regulated,
that my masters pointed to me as a model of conduct for the other
scholars.  Not that I made any extraordinary efforts to acquire this
reputation, but my disposition was naturally tractable and tranquil; my
inclinations led me to apply to study; and even the natural dislike I
felt for vice was placed to my credit as positive proof of virtue.  The
successful progress of my studies, my birth, and some external
advantages of person, made me a general favourite with the inhabitants
of the town.

"I completed my public exercises with such general approbation, that
the bishop of the diocese, who was present, proposed to me to enter the
church, where I could not fail, he said, to acquire more distinction
than in the Order of Malta, for which my parents had destined me. I was
already decorated with the Cross, and called the Chevalier des Grieux.
The vacation having arrived, I was preparing to return to my father,
who had promised to send me soon to the Academy.

"My only regret on quitting Amiens arose from parting with a friend,
some years older than myself, to whom I had always been tenderly
attached.  We had been brought up together; but from the straitened
circumstances of his family, he was intended to take orders, and was to
remain after me at Amiens to complete the requisite studies for his
sacred calling.  He had a thousand good qualities.  You will recognise
in him the very best during the course of my history, and above all, a
zeal and fervour of friendship which surpass the most illustrious
examples of antiquity.  If I had at that time followed his advice, I
should have always continued a discreet and happy man.  If I had even
taken counsel from his reproaches, when on the brink of that gulf into
which my passions afterwards plunged me, I should have been spared the
melancholy wreck of both fortune and reputation.  But he was doomed to
see his friendly admonitions disregarded; nay, even at times repaid by
contempt from an ungrateful wretch, who often dared to treat his
fraternal conduct as offensive and officious.

"I had fixed the day for my departure from Amiens.  Alas! that I had
not fixed it one day sooner!  I should then have carried to my father's
house my innocence untarnished.

"The very evening before my expected departure, as I was walking with
my friend, whose name was Tiberge, we saw the Arras diligence arrive,
and sauntered after it to the inn, at which these coaches stop.  We had
no other motive than curiosity.  Some worn men alighted, and
immediately retired into the inn.  One remained behind: she was very
young, and stood by herself in the court, while a man of advanced age,
who appeared to have charge of her, was busy in getting her luggage
from the vehicle.  She struck me as being so extremely beautiful, that
I, who had never before thought of the difference between the sexes, or
looked on woman with the slightest attention--I, whose conduct had been
hitherto the theme of universal admiration, felt myself, on the
instant, deprived of my reason and self-control.  I had been always
excessively timid, and easily disconcerted; but now, instead of meeting
with any impediment from this weakness, I advanced without the
slightest reserve towards her, who had thus become, in a moment, the
mistress of my heart.

"Although younger than myself, she received my civilities without
embarrassment.  I asked the cause of her journey to Amiens, and whether
she had any acquaintances in the town.  She ingenuously told me that
she had been sent there by her parents, to commence her novitiate for
taking the veil.  Love had so quickened my perception, even in the
short moment it had been enthroned, that I saw in this announcement a
death-blow to my hopes.  I spoke to her in a way that made her at once
understand what was passing in my mind; for she had more experience
than myself.  It was against her consent that she was consigned to a
convent, doubtless to repress that inclination for pleasure which had
already become too manifest, and which caused, in the sequel, all her
misfortunes and mine.  I combated the cruel intention of her parents
with all the arguments that my new-born passion and schoolboy eloquence
could suggest.  She affected neither austerity nor reserve.  She told
me, after a moment's silence, that she foresaw too clearly, what her
unhappy fate must be; but that it was, apparently, the will of Heaven,
since there were no means left her to avert it.  The sweetness of her
look, the air of sorrow with which she pronounced these words, or
rather perhaps the controlling destiny which led me on to ruin, allowed
me not an instant to weigh my answer.  I assured her that if she would
place reliance on my honour, and on the tender interest with which she
had already inspired me, I would sacrifice my life to deliver her from
the tyranny of her parents, and to render her happy.  I have since been
a thousand times astonished in reflecting upon it, to think how I could
have expressed myself with so much boldness and facility; but love
could never have become a divinity, if he had not often worked miracles.

"I made many other pressing and tender speeches; and my unknown fair
one was perfectly aware that mine was not the age for deceit.  She
confessed to me that if I could see but a reasonable hope of being able
to effect her enfranchisement, she should deem herself indebted for my
kindness in more than life itself could pay.  I repeated that I was
ready to attempt anything in her behalf; but, not having sufficient
experience at once to imagine any reasonable plan of serving her, I did
not go beyond this general assurance, from which indeed little good
could arise either to her or to myself.  Her old guardian having by
this time joined us, my hopes would have been blighted, but that she
had tact enough to make amends for my stupidity.  I was surprised, on
his approaching us, to hear her call me her cousin, and say, without
being in the slightest degree disconcerted, that as she had been so
fortunate as to fall in with me at Amiens, she would not go into the
convent until the next morning, in order to have the pleasure of
meeting me at supper.  Innocent as I was, I at once comprehended the
meaning of this ruse; and proposed that she should lodge for the night
at the house of an innkeeper, who, after being many years my father's
coachman, had lately established himself at Amiens, and who was
sincerely attached to me.

"I conducted her there myself, at which the old Argus appeared to
grumble a little; and my friend Tiberge, who was puzzled by the whole
scene, followed, without uttering a word.  He had not heard our
conversation, having walked up and down the court while I was talking
of love to my angelic mistress.  As I had some doubts of his
discretion, I got rid of him, by begging that he would execute a
commission for me.  I had thus the happiness, on arriving at the inn,
of entertaining alone the sovereign of my heart.

"I soon learned that I was less a child than I had before imagined.  My
heart expanded to a thousand sentiments of pleasure, of which I had not
before the remotest idea.  A delicious consciousness of enjoyment
diffused itself through my whole mind and soul.  I sank into a kind of
ecstasy, which deprived me for a time of the power of utterance, and
which found vent only in a flood of tears.

"Manon Lescaut (this she told me was her name) seemed gratified by the
visible effect of her own charms.  She appeared to me not less excited
than myself.  She acknowledged that she was greatly pleased with me,
and that she should be enchanted to owe to me her freedom and future
happiness.  She would insist on hearing who I was, and the knowledge
only augmented her affection; for, being herself of humble birth, she
was flattered by securing for her lover a man of family.

"After many reflections we could discover no other resource than in
flight.  To effect this it would be requisite to cheat the vigilance of
Manon's guardian, who required management, although he was but a
servant.  We determined, therefore, that, during the night, I should
procure a post-chaise, and return with it at break of day to the inn,
before he was awake; that we should steal away quietly, and go straight
to Paris, where we might be married on our arrival.  I had about fifty
crowns in my pocket, the fruit of my little savings at school; and she
had about twice as much.  We imagined, like inexperienced children,
that such a sum could never be exhausted, and we counted, with equal
confidence, upon the success of our other schemes.

"After having supped, with certainly more satisfaction than I had ever
before experienced, I retired to prepare for our project.  All my
arrangements were the more easy, because, for the purpose of returning
on the morrow to my father's, my luggage had been already packed.  I
had, therefore, no difficulty in removing my trunk, and having a chaise
prepared for five o'clock in the morning, at which hour the gates of
the town would be opened; but I encountered an obstacle which I was
little prepared for, and which nearly upset all my plans.

"Tiberge, although only three years older than myself, was a youth of
unusually strong mind, and of the best regulated conduct.  He loved me
with singular affection.  The sight of so lovely a girl as Manon, my
ill-disguised impatience to conduct her to the inn, and the anxiety I
betrayed to get rid of him, had excited in his mind some suspicions of
my passion.  He had not ventured to return to the inn where he had left
me, for fear of my being annoyed at his doing so; but went to wait for
me at my lodgings, where, although it was ten o'clock at night, I found
him on my arrival.  His presence annoyed me, and he soon perceived the
restraint which it imposed.  'I am certain,' he said to me, without any
disguise, 'that you have some plan in contemplation which you will not
confide to me; I see it by your manner.'  I answered him rather
abruptly, that I was not bound to render him an account of all my
movements. 'Certainly not!' he replied; 'but you have always, hitherto,
treated me as a friend, and that appellation implies a certain degree
of confidence and candour.'  He pressed me so much and so earnestly to
discover my secret, that, having never up to that moment felt the
slightest reserve towards him, I confided to him now the whole history
of my passion.  He heard it with an appearance of disapprobation, which
made me tremble; and I immediately repented of my indiscretion, in
telling him of my intended elopement.  He told me he was too sincerely
my friend not to oppose every obstacle in his power to such a scheme;
that he would first try all other means of turning me from such a
purpose, but that if I refused to renounce so fatal a resolution, he
assuredly would inform some persons of my intention, who would be able
to defeat it.  He held forth upon the subject for a full quarter of an
hour, in the most serious tone, and ended by again threatening to
inform against me, if I did not pledge him my word that I would return
to the paths of discretion and reason.

"I was in despair at having so awkwardly betrayed myself. However, love
having wonderfully sharpened my intellect during the last two or three
hours, I recollected that I had not yet told him of its being my
intention to execute my project on the following morning, and I at once
determined to deceive him by a little equivocation.

"'Tiberge,' said I to him, 'up to the present moment I thought you were
my friend; and I wished to prove it by the test of confidence.  It is
true, I am in love; I have not deceived you: but with regard to my
flight, that is a project not to be undertaken without deliberation.
Call for me tomorrow at nine o'clock: you shall see my mistress, if it
be possible, and then judge whether she is not worthy of any risk or
sacrifice on my part.'  He left me, with a thousand protestations of
friendship.

"I employed the night in preparing for the journey, and on repairing to
the inn at early dawn, I found Manon waiting my arrival.  She was at
her window, which looked upon the street, and perceiving my approach,
she came down and opened the door herself.  We took our departure
silently, and without creating the least alarm.  She merely brought
away a small portion of her apparel, of which I took charge.  The
chaise was in readiness, and we were soon at a distance from the town.

"You will learn in the sequel what was the conduct of Tiberge when he
discovered that I had deceived him; that his zeal to serve me suffered
no diminution; and you will observe to what lengths his devotion
carried him.  How ought I to grieve, when I reflect on the base
ingratitude with which his affection was always repaid!

"We made such speed on our journey that before night we reached St.
Denis.  I rode alongside of the chaise, which gave us little
opportunity for conversation, except while changing horses; but when we
found ourselves so near Paris, and out of the reach of danger, we
allowed ourselves time for refreshment, not having tasted food since we
quitted Amiens.  Passionately in love as I felt with Manon, she knew
how to convince me that she was equally so with me.  So little did we
restrain our fondness, that we had not even patience to reserve our
caresses till we were alone. The postilions and innkeepers stared at us
with wonder, and I remarked that they appeared surprised at such
uncontrollable love in children of our age.

"Our project of marriage was forgotten at St. Denis; we defrauded the
Church of her rights; and found ourselves united as man and wife
without reflecting on the consequences.  It is certain that with my
easy and constant disposition, I should have been happy for my whole
life, if Manon had remained faithful to me.  The more I saw of her, the
more I discovered in her new perfections.  Her mind, her heart, her
gentleness and beauty, formed a chain at once so binding and so
agreeable, that I could have found perfect happiness in its enduring
influence.  Terrible fatality, that which has been the source of my
despair, might, under a slight change of circumstances, have
constituted my happiness.  I find myself the most wretched of mankind,
by the force of that very constancy from which I might have fairly
expected to derive the most serene of human blisses, and the most
perfect recompense of love.

"We took a furnished apartment at Paris, in the Rue V----, and, as it
afterwards turned out, to my sorrow, close to the house of M. de B----,
the famous Fermier-general.  Three weeks passed, during which I was so
absorbed in my passion, that I never gave a thought to my family, nor
dreamed of the distress which my father probably felt at my absence.
However, as there was yet nothing of profligacy about me, and as Manon
conducted herself with the strictest propriety, the tranquil life we
led served to restore me by degrees to a sense of duty.

"I resolved to effect, if possible, a reconciliation with my parent.
My mistress was to me so perfectly lovable, that I could not doubt
her power of captivating my father, if I could only find the means of
making him acquainted with her good conduct and merit.  In a word, I
relied on obtaining his consent to our marriage, having given up all
idea of accomplishing it without his approval.  I mentioned the project
to Manon, and explained to her that, besides every motive of filial
love and duty, the weightier one of necessity should also have some
influence; for our finances were sadly reduced, and I began to see the
folly of thinking them, as I once did, inexhaustible.

"Manon received the proposition with considerable coldness. However,
the difficulties she made, being apparently the suggestions of
tenderness alone, or as arising from the natural fear of losing me, if
my father, after learning our address, should refuse his assent to our
union, I had not the smallest suspicion of the cruel blow she was at
the very time preparing to inflict.  As to the argument of necessity,
she replied that we had still abundant means of living for some weeks
longer, and that she would then find a resource in the kindness of some
relations in the country, to whom she should write.  She tempered her
opposition by caresses so tender and impassioned, that I, who lived
only for her, and who never had the slightest misgiving as to her love,
applauded at once her arguments and her resolutions.

"To Manon I had committed the care of our finances, and the house-hold
arrangements.  In a short time, I observed that our style of living was
improved, and that she had treated herself to more expensive dresses.
As I calculated that we could hardly have at this period more than
fifteen or twenty crowns remaining, I did not conceal my surprise at
this mysterious augmentation of our wealth.  She begged of me, with a
smile, to give myself no trouble on that head.  'Did I not promise
you,' said she, 'that I would find resources?'  I loved her too purely
to experience the slightest suspicion.

"One day, having gone out in the afternoon, and told her that I should
not be at home so early as usual, I was astonished, on my return, at
being detained several minutes at the door.  Our only servant was a
young girl about our own age.  On her letting me in at last, I asked
why she had detained me so long?  She replied in an embarrassed tone,
that she did not hear me knock.  'I only knocked once,' said I; 'so if
you did not hear me, why come to open the door at all?'  This query
disconcerted her so visibly, that losing her presence of mind, she
began to cry, assuring me that it was not her fault; and that her
mistress had desired her not to open the door until M. de B---- had had
time to go down by the back staircase.  I was so confounded by this
information as to be utterly unable to proceed to our apartment; and
was obliged to leave the house, under the pretext of an appointment.  I
desired the girl, therefore, to let her mistress know that I should
return in a few minutes, but on no account to say that she had spoken
to me of M. de B----.

"My horror was so great, that I shed tears as I went along, hardly
knowing from what feeling they flowed.  I entered a coffee-house close
by, and placing myself at a table, I buried my face between my hands,
as though I would turn my eyes inward to ascertain what was passing in
my heart.  Still, I dared not recall what I had heard the moment
before.  I strove to look upon it as a dream; and was more than once on
the point of returning to my lodgings, determined to attach no
importance to what I had heard.

"It appeared to me so impossible that Manon could have been unfaithful,
that I feared even to wrong her by a suspicion.  I adored her--that was
too certain; I had not on my part given her more proofs of my love than
I had received of hers; why then should I charge her with being less
sincere and constant than myself?  What reason could she have to
deceive me?  Not three hours before, she had lavished upon me the most
tender caresses, and had received mine with transport: I knew her heart
as thoroughly as my own.  'No, no!' I said, 'it is not possible that
Manon can have deceived me.  She well knows that I live but for her;
that I adore her: upon that point I can have no reason to be unhappy.'

"Notwithstanding these reflections, the visit of M. de B----, and his
secret departure, gave me some uneasiness.  I remembered, too, the
little purchases she had lately made, which seemed beyond our present
means.  This looked like the liberality of a new lover.  And the
confidence with which she had foretold resources which were to me
unknown?  I had some difficulty in solving these mysteries in as
favourable a manner as my heart desired.

"On the other hand, she had been hardly out of my sight since we
entered Paris.  However occupied, in our walks, in all our amusements,
she was ever at my side.  Heavens! even a momentary separation would
have been too painful.  I could not therefore imagine how Manon could,
to any other person, have devoted a single instant.

"At last I thought I had discovered a clue to the mystery.  'M. de
B----' said I to myself, 'is a man extensively engaged in commercial
affairs; and Manon's relations have no doubt remitted her money through
his house.  She has probably already received some from him, and he is
come today to bring her more.  She wishes, perhaps, to derive amusement
by and by, from an agreeable surprise, by keeping me at present in the
dark.  She would doubtless have at once told me all, if I had gone in
as usual, instead of coming here to distress myself: at all events, she
will not conceal it from me when I broach the subject myself.'

"I cherished this idea so willingly, that it considerably lightened my
grief.  I immediately returned to my lodgings, and embraced Manon as
tenderly as ever.  She received me as usual. At first I was tempted to
mention my conjectures, which I now, more than ever, looked upon as
certain; but I restrained myself in the hope that she might render it
unnecessary by informing me of all that had passed.

"Supper was served.  Assuming an air of gaiety, I took my seat at
table; but by the light of the candles which were between us, I fancied
I perceived an air of melancholy about the eyes and countenance of my
beloved mistress.  The very thought soon damped my gaiety.  I remarked
that her looks wore an unusual expression, and although nothing could
be more soft or languishing, I was at a loss to discover whether they
conveyed more of love than of compassion.  I gazed at her with equal
earnestness, and she perhaps had no less difficulty in comprehending
from my countenance what was passing in my heart.  We neither spoke nor
ate.  At length I saw tears starting from her beauteous
eyes--perfidious tears!  'Oh heavens!' I cried, 'my dearest Manon, why
allow your sorrows to afflict you to this degree without imparting
their cause to me?'  She answered me only with sighs, which increased
my misery.  I arose trembling from my seat: I conjured her, with all
the urgent earnestness of love, to let me know the cause of her grief:
I wept in endeavouring to soothe her sorrows: I was more dead than
alive.  A barbarian would have pitied my sufferings as I stood
trembling with grief and apprehension.

"While my attention was thus confined to her, I heard people coming
upstairs.  They tapped gently at the door.  Manon gave me a kiss, and
escaping from my arms, quickly entered the boudoir, turning the key
after her.  I imagined that, not being dressed to receive strangers,
she was unwilling to meet the persons who had knocked; I went to let
them in.

"I had hardly opened the door, when I found myself seized by three men,
whom I recognised as my father's servants.  They offered not the least
violence, but two of them taking me by the arms, the third examined my
pockets, and took out a small knife, the only weapon I had about me.
They begged pardon for the necessity they were under of treating me
with apparent disrespect; telling me frankly that they were acting by
the orders of my father, and that my eldest brother was in a carriage
below waiting to receive me.  My feelings were so overpowered, that I
allowed myself to be led away without making either reply or
resistance.  I found my brother waiting for me as they had stated.
They placed me by his side, and the coachman immediately drove, by his
orders, towards St. Denis.

"My brother embraced me most affectionately, but during our ride, he
uttered not a word, so that, as I was not inclined for conversation, I
had as much leisure as I could desire to reflect upon my misfortunes."



III


  That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
  And not their appetites.
        SHAKESPEARE.


"The whole affair was so involved in obscurity that I could not see my
way even to a reasonable conjecture.  I was cruelly betrayed--that was
certain; but by whom?  Tiberge first occurred to me.  'Tiberge!' said
I, 'it is as much as thy life is worth, if my suspicions turn out to be
well founded.'  However, I recollected that he could not by possibility
know my abode; and therefore, he could not have furnished the
information.  To accuse Manon was more than my heart was capable of.
The unusual melancholy with which she had lately seemed weighed down,
her tears, the tender kiss she gave me in parting, made it all as yet a
mystery to me.  I could only look upon her recent melancholy as a
presentiment of our common misfortune; and while I was deploring the
event which tore me from her, I was credulous enough to consider her
fate as much deserving of pity as my own.

"The result of my reflections was, that I had been seen and followed in
the streets of Paris by some persons of my acquaintance, who had
conveyed the information to my father. This idea comforted me.  I made
up my mind to encounter some reproaches, or perhaps harsh treatment,
for having outraged the paternal authority.  I resolved, however, to
suffer with patience, and to promise all that might be required of me,
in order to facilitate my speedy return to Paris, that I might restore
life and happiness to my dear Manon.

"We soon arrived at St. Denis.  My brother, surprised at my long
silence, thought it the effect of fear.  He assured me that I had
nothing to apprehend from my father's severity, provided I showed a
disposition to return quietly to the path of duty, and prove myself
worthy of his affection.  He made me pass the night at St. Denis,
merely taking the precaution of putting the three lackeys to sleep in
my room.  It cost me a pang to find myself in the same inn where I had
stopped with Manon on our way from Amiens to Paris.  The innkeeper and
his servants recognised me, and guessed at once the truth of my
history.  I overheard them say, 'Ah! that's the handsome young
gentleman who travelled this road about a month ago, with the beautiful
girl he appeared so much in love with!  How pretty she was!  The poor
young things, how they caressed each other!  Pity if they have been
separated!'  I pretended not to hear, and kept as much out of sight as
possible.

"At St. Denis my brother had a chariot waiting for us, in which we
started early the next morning, and arrived at home before night.

"He saw my father first, in order to make a favourable impression by
telling him how quietly I had allowed myself to be brought away, so
that his reception of me was less austere than I had expected.  He
merely rebuked me in general terms for the offence I had committed, by
absenting myself without his permission.  As for my mistress, he said I
richly deserved what had happened to me, for abandoning myself to a
person utterly unknown; that he had entertained a better opinion of my
discretion; but that he hoped this little adventure would make me
wiser.  I took the whole lecture only in the sense that accorded with
my own notions.  I thanked my father for his indulgence, and promised
that I would in future observe a better regulated and more obedient
course of conduct.  I felt that I had secured a triumph; for, from the
present aspect of affairs, there was no doubt that I should be free to
effect my escape from the house even before the night was over.

"We sat down to supper.  They rallied me about my Amiens conquest, and
my flight with that paragon of fidelity.  I took their jokes in good
part, glad enough at being permitted to revolve in my mind the plans I
had meditated; but some words which fell from my father made me listen
with earnest attention. He spoke of perfidy, and the not disinterested
kindness he had received at the hands of M. de B----.  I was almost
paralysed on hearing the name, and begged of my father to explain
himself.  He turned to my brother, to ask if he had not told me the
whole story.  My brother answered, that I appeared to him so tranquil
upon the road, that he did not suppose I required this remedy to cure
me of my folly.  I remarked that my father was doubtful whether he
should give me the explanation or not.  I entreated him so earnestly
that he satisfied me, or I should rather say tortured me, with the
following most horrible narration.

"He began by asking me whether I was really simple enough to believe
that I had been really loved by the girl.  I told him confidently that
I was perfectly sure of it, and that nothing could make me for a moment
doubt it. 'Ha, ha, ha!' said he, with a loud laugh; 'that is excellent!
you are a pretty dupe! Admirable idea!  'Twould be a thousand pities,
my poor chevalier, to make you a Knight of Malta, with all the
requisites you possess for a patient and accommodating husband.'  He
continued in the same tone to ridicule what he was pleased to call my
dullness and credulity.

"He concluded, while I maintained a profound silence, by saying that,
according to the nicest calculation he could make of the time since my
departure from Amiens, Manon must have been in love with me about
twelve days; 'for,' said he, 'I know that you left Amiens on the 28th
of last month; this is, the 29th of the present; it is eleven days
since M. de B---- wrote to me; I suppose he required eight days to
establish a perfect understanding with your mistress; so that, take
eight and eleven from thirty-one days, the time between the 28th of one
month and the 29th of the next, there remains twelve, more or less!'
This joke was followed by shouts of laughter.

"I heard it all with a kind of sinking of the heart that I thought I
could not bear up against, until he finished.  'You must know then,'
continued my father, 'since you appear as yet ignorant of it, that M.
de B---- has won the affections of your idol; for he can't be serious
in pretending that it is his disinterested regard for me that has
induced him to take her from you.  It would be absurd to expect such
noble sentiments from a man of his description, and one, besides, who
is a perfect stranger to me.  He knew that you were my son, and in
order to get rid of you, he wrote to inform me of your abode, and of
the life you led; saying, at the same time, that strong measures would
be necessary to secure you.

"He offered to procure me the means of laying hold of you; and it was
by his direction, as well as that of your mistress herself, that your
brother hit upon the moment for catching you unawares. Now, you may
congratulate yourself upon the duration of your triumph.  You know how
to conquer, rapid enough; but you have yet to learn how to secure your
conquests.'

"I could no longer endure these remarks, every one of which struck a
dagger to my heart.  I arose from the table, and had not advanced four
steps towards the door, when I fell upon the floor, perfectly
senseless.  By prompt applications they soon brought me to myself.  My
eyes opened only to shed a torrent of tears, and my lips to utter the
most sorrowful and heartrending complaints. My father, who always loved
me most affectionately, tried every means to console me.  I listened to
him, but his words were without effect.  I threw myself at his feet, in
the attitude of prayer, conjuring him to let me return to Paris, and
destroy the monster B----.  'No!' cried I; 'he has not gained Manon's
heart; he may have seduced her by charms, or by drugs; he may have even
brutally violated her.  Manon loves me.  Do I not know that well? He
must have terrified her with a poniard, to induce her to abandon me.'
What must he not have done to have robbed me of my angelic mistress?
Oh Heaven!  Heaven! can it be possible that Manon deceived me, or that
she has ceased to love me!

"As I continued to rave about returning at once to Paris, and was
perpetually starting up with that purpose, my father clearly saw that
while the paroxysm lasted, no arguments could pacify me. He conducted
me to one of the upper rooms, and left two servants to keep constant
watch over me.  I was completely bewildered.  I would have given a
thousand lives to be but for one quarter of an hour in Paris.  I had
sense enough, however, to know that having so openly declared my
intention, they would not easily allow me to quit my chamber.  I looked
at the height of the windows. Seeing no possibility of escaping that
way, I addressed the servants in the most tranquil tone.  I promised,
with the most solemn vows, to make at some future day their fortunes,
if they would but consent to my escape.  I entreated them; I tried
caresses, and lastly threats; but all were unavailing.  I gave myself
up to despair.  I resolved to die; and threw myself upon the bed, with
a firm determination to quit it only with my life. In this situation I
passed the night and the following day.  I refused the nourishment that
was brought to me next morning.

"My father came to see me in the afternoon.  He tried in the most
affectionate manner, to soothe my grief.  He desired me so urgently to
take some refreshment, that, to gratify him, I obeyed his wishes.
Several days passed, during which I took nothing but in his presence,
and at his special request.  He continued to furnish new arguments to
restore me to my proper senses, and to inspire me with merited contempt
for the faithless Manon.  I certainly had lost all esteem for her: how
could I esteem the most fickle and perfidious of created beings!  But
her image--those exquisite features, which were engraven on my heart's
core, were still uneffaced.  I understood my own feelings:  'I may
die,' said I, 'and I ought to die after so much shame and grief; but I
might suffer a thousand deaths without being able to forget the ingrate
Manon.'

"My father was surprised at my still continuing so powerfully affected.
He knew that I was imbued with the principles of honour; and not
doubting that her infidelity must make me despise her, fancied that my
obstinacy proceeded less from this particular passion, than from a
general inclination towards the sex.  This idea so took possession of
his mind, that, prompted only by his affection for me, he came one day
to reveal his thoughts.  'Chevalier,' said he to me, 'it has been
hitherto my intention to make you bear the Cross of Malta: I now see
that your inclinations do not bend that way.  You are an admirer of
beauty.  I shall be able to find you a wife to your taste.  Let me
candidly know how you feel upon the subject.'

"I answered that I could never again see the slightest difference
amongst women, and that after the misfortune I had experienced, I
detested them all equally.  'I will find you one,' replied my father,
smiling, 'who shall resemble Manon in beauty, but who shall be more
faithful.'  'Ah! if you have any mercy,' said I, 'you will restore my
Manon to me.  Be assured, my dear father, that she has not betrayed me;
she is incapable of such base and cruel treachery.  It is the
perfidious B---- who deceives both her and me.  If you could form an
idea of her tenderness and her sincerity--if you only knew her, you
yourself would love her!'  'You are absolutely a child,' replied my
father. 'How can you so delude yourself, after what I have told you
about her?  It was she who actually delivered you up to your brother.
You ought to obliterate even her name from your memory, and take
advantage, if you are wise, of the indulgence I am showing you.'

"I very clearly perceived that my father was right.  It was an
involuntary emotion that made me thus take part with the traitor.
'Alas!' replied I, after a moment's silence, 'it is but too true that I
am the unhappy victim of the vilest perfidy.  Yes,' I continued, while
shedding tears of anger, 'I too clearly perceive that I am indeed but a
child.  Credulity like mine was easily gulled; but I shall be at no
loss to revenge myself.'  My father enquired of me my intentions:  'I
will go to Paris,' I said, 'set fire to B----'s house, and immolate him
and the perfidious Manon together.'  This burst made my father laugh,
and had only the effect of causing me to be more vigilantly watched in
my cell.

"I thus passed six long months; during the first of which my mind
underwent little change.  My feelings were in a state of perpetual
alternation between hate and love; between hope and despair; according
as, the tendency of each passing thought brought Manon back to my
recollection.  At one time, I could see in her the most delightful of
women only, and sigh for the pleasure of beholding her once more; at
another, I felt she was the most unworthy and perfidious of mistresses,
and I would on these occasions swear never again to seek her, but for
the purpose of revenge.

"I was supplied with books, which served to restore my peace of mind.
I read once again all my favourite authors; and I became acquainted
with new ones.  All my former taste for study was revived.  You will
see of what use this was to me in the sequel. The light I had already
derived from love, enabled me to comprehend many passages in Horace and
Virgil which had before appeared obscure.  I wrote an amatory
commentary upon the fourth book of the AEneid.  I intend one day to
publish it, and I flatter myself it will be popular.

"'Alas!' I used to exclaim, 'whilst employed on that work, it was for a
heart like mine the faithful Dido sighed, and sighed in vain!'



IV


  Now, by the strange enchantment that surrounds thee,
  There's nothing--nothing thou shalt ask in vain.
        ESSEX.


"While in my confinement Tiberge came one day to see me.  I was
surprised at the affectionate joy with which he saluted me.  I had
never, hitherto, observed any peculiar warmth in his friendship that
could lead me to look upon it as anything more than the partiality
common among boys of the same age.  He was so altered, and had grown so
manly during the five or six months since I had last seen him, that his
expressive features and his manner of addressing me inspired me with a
feeling of respect. He spoke more in the character of a mentor than a
schoolfellow, lamented the delusion into which I had fallen,
congratulated me on my reformation, which he believed was now sincere,
and ended by exhorting me to profit by my youthful error, and open my
eyes to the vanity of worldly pleasures.  I looked at him with some
astonishment, which he at once perceived.

"'My dear chevalier,' said he to me, 'you shall hear nothing but the
strict truth, of which I have assured myself by the most serious
examination.  I had, perhaps, as strong an inclination for pleasure as
you, but Heaven had at the same time, in its mercy, blessed me with a
taste for virtue.  I exercised my reason in comparing the consequences
of the one with those of the other, and the divine aid was graciously
vouchsafed to my reflections. I conceived for the world a contempt
which nothing can equal. Can you guess what it is retains me in it
now,' he added, 'and that prevents me from embracing a life of
solitude?  Simply the sincere friendship I bear towards you.  I know
the excellent qualities of both your heart and head.  There is no good
of which you may not render yourself capable.  The blandishments of
pleasure have momentarily drawn you aside.  What detriment to the
sacred cause of virtue!  Your flight from Amiens gave me such intense
sorrow, that I have not since known a moment's happiness. You may judge
of this by the steps it induced me to take.'  He then told me how,
after discovering that I had deceived him, and gone off with my
mistress, he procured horses for the purpose of pursuing me, but having
the start of him by four or five hours, he found it impossible to
overtake me; that he arrived, however, at St. Denis half an hour after
I had left it; that, being very sure that I must have stopped in Paris,
he spent six weeks there in a fruitless endeavour to discover
me--visiting every place where he thought he should be likely to meet
me, and that one evening he at length recognised my mistress at the
play, where she was so gorgeously dressed, that he of course set it
down to the account of some new lover; that he had followed her
equipage to her house, and had there learned from a servant that she
was entertained in this style by M. de B----.  'I did not stop here,'
continued he; 'I returned next day to the house, to learn from her own
lips what had become of you.  She turned abruptly away when she heard
the mention of your name, and I was obliged to return into the country
without further information.  I there learned the particulars of your
adventure, and the extreme annoyance she had caused you; but I was
unwilling to visit you until I could have assurance of your being in a
more tranquil state.'

"'You have seen Manon then!' cried I, sighing. 'Alas! you are happier
than I, who am doomed never again to behold her.'  He rebuked me for
this sigh, which still showed my weakness for the perfidious girl.  He
flattered me so adroitly upon the goodness of my mind and disposition,
that he really inspired me, even on this first visit, with a strong
inclination to renounce, as he had done, the pleasures of the world,
and enter at once into holy orders.

"The idea was so suited to my present frame of mind, that when alone I
thought of nothing else.  I remembered the words of the Bishop of
Amiens, who had given me the same advice, and thought only of the
happiness which he predicted would result from my adoption of such a
course.  Piety itself took part in these suggestions.  'I shall lead a
holy and a Christian life,' said I; 'I shall divide my time between
study and religion, which will allow me no leisure for the perilous
pleasures of love.  I shall despise that which men ordinarily admire;
and as I am conscious that my heart will desire nothing but what it can
esteem, my cares will not be greater or more numerous than my wants and
wishes.'

"I thereupon pictured to myself in anticipation a course of life
peaceful and retired.  I fancied a retreat embosomed in a wood, with a
limpid stream of running water bounding my garden; a library,
comprising the most select works; a limited circle of friends, virtuous
and intellectual; a table neatly served, but frugal and temperate.  To
all these agremens I added a literary correspondence with a friend
whose residence should be in Paris, who should give me occasional
information upon public affairs, less for the gratification of my
curiosity, than to afford a kind of relaxation by hearing of and
lamenting the busy follies of men.  'Shall not I be happy?' added I;
'will not my utmost wishes be thus gratified?'  This project flattered
my inclinations extremely.  But after all the details of this most
admirable and prudent plan, I felt that my heart still yearned for
something; and that in order to leave nothing to desire in this most
enchanting retirement, one ought to be able to share it with Manon.

"However, Tiberge continuing to pay me frequent visits in order to
strengthen me in the purpose with which he had inspired me, I took an
opportunity of opening the subject to my father.  He declared that his
intention ever was to leave his children free to choose a profession,
and that in whatever manner I should dispose of myself, all he wished
to reserve was the right of aiding me with his counsel.  On this
occasion he gave me some of the wisest, which tended less to divert me
from my project, than to convince me of my good father's sound judgment
and discretion.

"The recommencement of the scholastic year being at hand, Tiberge and I
agreed to enter ourselves together at St. Sulpice, he to pursue his
theological studies, and I to begin mine.  His merits, which were not
unknown to the bishop of the diocese, procured him the promise of a
living from that prelate before our departure.

"My father, thinking me quite cured of my passion, made no objection to
my taking final leave.  We arrived at Paris.  The Cross of Malta gave
place to the ecclesiastical habit, and the designation of the Abbé de
Grieux was substituted for that of chevalier.  I applied so diligently
to study, that in a few months I had made extraordinary progress.  I
never lost a moment of the day, and employed even part of the night.  I
soon acquired such a reputation, that I was already congratulated upon
the honours which I was sure of obtaining; and, without solicitation on
my part, my name was inscribed on the list for a vacant benefice.
Piety was by no means neglected, and I entered with ardent devotion
into all the exercises of religion.  Tiberge was proud of what he
considered the work of his own hands, and many a time have I seen him
shed tears of delight in noticing what he styled my perfect conversion.

"It has never been matter of wonder to me that human resolutions are
liable to change; one passion gives them birth, another may destroy
them; but when I reflect upon the sacredness of those motives that led
me to St. Sulpice, and upon the heartfelt satisfaction I enjoyed while
obeying their dictation, I shudder at the facility with which I
outraged them all.  If it be true that the benign succour afforded by
Heaven is at all times equal to the strongest of man's pinions, I shall
be glad to learn the nature of the deplorable ascendancy which causes
us suddenly to swerve from the path of duty, without the power of
offering the least resistance, and without even the slightest
visitation of remorse.

"I now thought myself entirely safe from the dangers of love.  I
fancied that I could have preferred a single page of St. Augustine, or
a quarter of an hour of Christian meditation, to every sensual
gratification, not excepting any that I might have derived even from
Manon's society.  Nevertheless, one unlucky moment plunged me again
headlong into the gulf; and my ruin was the more irreparable, because,
falling at once to the same depth from whence I had been before
rescued, each of the new disorders into which I now lapsed carried me
deeper and deeper still down the profound abyss of vice.  I had passed
nearly a year at Paris without hearing of Manon.  It cost me no slight
effort to abstain from enquiry; but the unintermitting advice of
Tiberge, and my own reflections, secured this victory over my wishes.
The last months glided away so tranquilly, that I considered the memory
of this charming but treacherous creature about to be consigned to
eternal oblivion.

"The time arrived when I was to undergo a public examination in the
class of theology:  I invited several persons of consideration to
honour me with their presence on the occasion. My name was mentioned in
every quarter of Paris: it even reached the ears of her who had
betrayed me.  She had some difficulty in recognising it with the prefix
of Abbé; but curiosity, or perhaps remorse for having been faithless to
me (I could never after ascertain by which of these feelings she was
actuated), made her at once take an interest in a name so like mine;
and she came with several other women to the Sorbonne, where she was
present at my examination, and had doubtless little trouble in
recognising my person.

"I had not the remotest suspicion of her presence.  It is well known
that in these places there are private seats for ladies, where they
remain screened by a curtain.  I returned to St. Sulpice covered with
honours and congratulations.  It was six in the evening.  The moment I
returned, a lady was announced, who desired to speak with me.  I went
to meet her.  Heavens! what a surprise!

"It was Manon.  It was she indeed, but more bewitching and brilliant
than I had ever beheld her.  She was now in her eighteenth year.  Her
beauty beggars all description.  The exquisite grace of her form, the
mild sweetness of expression that animated her features, and her
engaging air, made her seem the very personification of love.  The
vision was something too perfect for human beauty.

"I stood like one enchanted at beholding her.  Unable to divine the
object of her visit, I waited trembling and with downcast looks until
she explained herself.  At first, her embarrassment was equal to mine;
but, seeing that I was not disposed to break silence, she raised her
hand to her eyes to conceal a starting tear, and then, in a timid tone,
said that she well knew she had justly earned my abhorrence by her
infidelity; but that if I had ever really felt any love for her, there
was not much kindness in allowing two long years to pass without
enquiring after her, and as little now in seeing her in the state of
mental distress in which she was, without condescending to bestow upon
her a single word.  I shall not attempt to describe what my feelings
were as I listened to this reproof.

"She seated herself.  I remained standing, with my face half turned
aside, for I could not muster courage to meet her look.  I several
times commenced a reply without power to conclude it.  At length I made
an effort, and in a tone of poignant grief exclaimed:  'Perfidious
Manon! perfidious, perfidious creature!' She had no wish, she repeated
with a flood of tears, to attempt to justify her infidelity.  'What is
your wish, then?' cried I. 'I wish to die,' she answered, 'if you will
not give me back that heart, without which it is impossible to endure
life.'  'Take my life too, then, faithless girl!'  I exclaimed, in vain
endeavouring to restrain my tears; 'take my life also! it is the sole
sacrifice that remains for me to make, for my heart has never ceased to
be thine.'

"I had hardly uttered these words, when she rose in a transport of joy,
and approached to embrace me.  She loaded me with a thousand caresses.
She addressed me by all the endearing appellations with which love
supplies his votaries, to enable them to express the most passionate
fondness.  I still answered with affected coldness; but the sudden
transition from a state of quietude, such as that I had up to this
moment enjoyed, to the agitation and tumult which were now kindled in
my breast and tingled through my veins, thrilled me with a kind of
horror, and impressed me with a vague sense that I was about to undergo
some great transformation, and to enter upon a new existence.

"We sat down close by each other.  I took her hand within mine, 'Ah!
Manon,' said I, with a look of sorrow, 'I little thought that love like
mine could have been repaid with treachery!  It was a poor triumph to
betray a heart of which you were the absolute mistress--whose sole
happiness it was to gratify and obey you.  Tell me if among others you
have found any so affectionate and so devoted?  No, no!  I believe
nature has cast few hearts in the same mould as mine.  Tell me at least
whether you have ever thought of me with regret!  Can I have any
reliance on the duration of the feeling that has brought you back to me
today?  I perceive too plainly that you are infinitely lovelier than
ever: but I conjure you by all my past sufferings, dearest Manon, to
tell me--can you in future be more faithful?'

"She gave me in reply such tender assurances of her repentance, and
pledged her fidelity with such solemn protestations and vows, that I
was inexpressibly affected.  'Beauteous Manon,' said I, with rather a
profane mixture of amorous and theological expressions, 'you are too
adorable for a created being.  I feel my heart transported with
triumphant rapture.  It is folly to talk of liberty at St. Sulpice.
Fortune and reputation are but slight sacrifices at such a shrine!  I
plainly foresee it: I can read my destiny in your bright eyes; but what
abundant recompense shall I not find in your affections for any loss I
may sustain! The favours of fortune have no influence over me: fame
itself appears to me but a mockery; all my projects of a holy life were
wild absurdities: in fact, any joys but those I may hope for at your
side are fit objects of contempt.  There are none that would not vanish
into worthlessness before one single glance of thine!'

"In promising her, however, a full remission of her past frailties, I
enquired how she permitted herself to be led astray by B----.  She
informed me that having seen her at her window, he became passionately
in love with her; that he made his advances in the true style of a
mercantile cit;--that is to say, by giving her to understand in his
letter, that his payments would be proportioned to her favours; that
she had admitted his overtures at first with no other intention than
that of getting from him such a sum as might enable us to live without
inconvenience; but that he had so bewildered her with splendid
promises, that she allowed herself to be misled by degrees.  She added,
that I ought to have formed some notion of the remorse she experienced,
by her grief on the night of our separation; and assured me that, in
spite of the splendour in which he maintained her, she had never known
a moment's happiness with him, not only, she said, because he was
utterly devoid of that delicacy of sentiment and of those agreeable
manners which I possessed, but because even in the midst of the
amusements which he unceasingly procured her, she could never shake off
the recollection of my love, or her own ingratitude.  She then spoke of
Tiberge, and the extreme embarrassment his visit caused her.  'A
dagger's point,' she added, 'could not have struck more terror to my
heart.  I turned from him, unable to sustain the interview for a
moment.'

"She continued to inform me how she had been apprised of my residence
at Paris, of the change in my condition, and of her witnessing my
examination at the Sorbonne.  She told me how agitated she had been
during my intellectual conflict with the examiner; what difficulty she
felt in restraining her tears as well as her sighs, which were more
than once on the point of spurning all control, and bursting forth;
that she was the last person to leave the hall of examination, for fear
of betraying her distress, and that, following only the instinct of her
own heart, and her ardent desires, she came direct to the seminary,
with the firm resolution of surrendering life itself, if she found me
cruel enough to withhold my forgiveness.

"Could any savage remain unmoved by such proofs of cordial repentance
as those I had just witnessed?  For my part, I felt at the moment that
I could gladly have given up all the bishoprics in Christendom for
Manon.  I asked what course she would recommend in our present
emergency. 'It is requisite,' she replied, 'at all events, to quit the
seminary, and settle in some safer place.'  I consented to everything
she proposed.  She got into her carriage to go and wait for me at the
corner of the street.  I escaped the next moment, without attracting
the porter's notice.  I entered the carriage, and we drove off to a
Jew's.  I there resumed my lay-dress and sword.  Manon furnished the
supplies, for I was without a sou, and fearing that I might meet with
some new impediment, she would not consent to my returning to my room
at St. Sulpice for my purse.  My finances were in truth wretchedly low,
and hers more than sufficiently enriched by the liberality of M. de
B---- to make her think lightly of my loss.  We consulted together at
the Jew's as to the course we should now adopt.

"In order to enhance the sacrifice she had made for me of her late
lover, she determined to treat him without the least ceremony.  'I
shall leave him all his furniture,' she said; 'it belongs to him: but I
shall assuredly carry off, as I have a right to do, the jewels, and
about sixty thousand francs, which I have had from him in the last two
years.  I have given him no control over me,' she added, 'so that we
may remain without apprehension in Paris, taking a convenient house,
where we shall live, oh how happily together!'

"I represented to her that, although there might be no danger for her,
there was a great deal for me, who must be sooner or later infallibly
recognised, and continually exposed to a repetition of the trials I had
before endured.  She gave me to understand that she could not quit
Paris without regret.  I had such a dread of giving her annoyance, that
there were no risks I would not have encountered for her sake.
However, we compromised matters by resolving to take a house in some
village near Paris, from whence it would be easy for us to come into
town whenever pleasure or business required it.  We fixed on Chaillot,
which is at a convenient distance.  Manon at once returned to her
house, and I went to wait for her at a side-gate of the garden of the
Tuileries.

"She returned an hour after, in a hired carriage, with a servant-maid,
and several trunks, which contained her dresses, and everything she had
of value.

"We were not long on our way to Chaillot.  We lodged the first night at
the inn, in order to have time to find a suitable house, or at least a
commodious lodging.  We found one to our taste the next morning.

"My happiness now appeared to be secured beyond the reach of fate.
Manon was everything most sweet and amiable.  She was so delicate and
so unceasing in her attentions to me, that I deemed myself but too
bountifully rewarded for all my past troubles.  As we had both, by this
time, acquired some experience, we discussed rationally the state of
our finances.  Sixty thousand francs (the amount of our wealth) was not
a sum that could be expected to last our whole life; besides, we were
neither of us much disposed to control our expenses.  Manon's chief
virtue assuredly was not economy, any more than it was mine.  This was
my proposition. 'Sixty thousand francs,' said I, 'may support us for
ten years. Two thousand crowns a year will suffice, if we continue to
live at Chaillot.  We shall keep up appearances, but live frugally. Our
only expense will be occasionally a carriage, and the theatres.  We
shall do everything in moderation.  You like the opera; we shall go
twice a week, in the season.  As for play, we shall limit ourselves; so
that our losses must never exceed three crowns.  It is impossible but
that in the space of ten years some change must occur in my family: my
father is even now of an advanced age; he may die; in which event I
must inherit a fortune, and we shall then be above all other fears.'

"This arrangement would not have been by any means the most silly act
of my life, if we had only been prudent enough to persevere in its
execution; but our resolutions hardly lasted longer than a month.
Manon's passion was for amusement; she was the only object of mine.
New temptations to expense constantly presented themselves, and far
from regretting the money which she sometimes prodigally lavished, I
was the first to procure for her everything likely to afford her
pleasure.  Our residence at Chaillot began even to appear tiresome.

"Winter was approaching, and the whole world returning to town; the
country had a deserted look.  She proposed to me to take a house in
Paris.  I did not approve of this; but, in order partly at least to
satisfy her, I said that we might hire furnished apartments, and that
we might sleep there whenever we were late in quitting the assembly,
whither we often went; for the inconvenience of returning so late to
Chaillot was her excuse for wishing to leave it.  We had thus two
dwellings, one in town and the other in the country.  This change soon
threw our affairs into confusion, and led to two adventures, which
eventually caused our ruin.

"Manon had a brother in the Guards.  He unfortunately lived in the very
street in which we had taken lodgings.  He one day recognised his
sister at the window, and hastened over to us.  He was a fellow of the
rudest manners, and without the slightest principle of honour.  He
entered the room swearing in the most horrible way; and as he knew part
of his sister's history, he loaded her with abuse and reproaches.

"I had gone out the moment before, which was doubtless fortunate for
either him or me, for I was little disposed to brook an insult.  I only
returned to the lodgings after he had left them. The low spirits in
which I found Manon convinced me at once that something extraordinary
had occurred.  She told me of the provoking scene she had just gone
through, and of the brutal threats of her brother.  I felt such
indignation, that I wished to proceed at once to avenge her, when she
entreated me with tears to desist.

"While we were still talking of the adventure, the guardsman again
entered the room in which we sat, without even waiting to be announced.
Had I known him, he should not have met from me as civil a reception as
he did; but saluting us with a smile upon his countenance, he addressed
himself to Manon, and said, he was come to make excuses for his
violence; that he had supposed her to be living a life of shame and
disgrace, and it was this notion that excited his rage; but having
since made enquiry from one of our servants, he had learned such a
character of me, that his only wish was now to be on terms with us both.

"Although this admission, of having gone for information to one of my
own servants, had in it something ludicrous as well as indelicate, I
acknowledged his compliments with civility, I thought by doing so to
please Manon, and I was not deceived--she was delighted at the
reconciliation.  We made him stay to dine with us.

"In a little time he became so familiar, that hearing us speak of our
return to Chaillot, he insisted on accompanying us.  We were obliged to
give him a seat in our carriage.  This was in fact putting him into
possession, for he soon began to feel so much pleasure in our company,
that he made our house his home, and made himself in some measure
master of all that belonged to us.  He called me his brother, and,
under the semblance of fraternal freedom, he put himself on such a
footing as to introduce all his friends without ceremony into our house
at Chaillot, and there entertain them at our expense.  His magnificent
uniforms were procured of my tailor and charged to me, and he even
contrived to make Manon and me responsible for all his debts.  I
pretended to be blind to this system of tyranny, rather than annoy
Manon, and even to take no notice of the sums of money which from time
to time he received from her. No doubt, as he played very deep, he was
honest enough to repay her a part sometimes, when luck turned in his
favour; but our finances were utterly inadequate to supply, for any
length of time, demands of such magnitude and frequency.

"I was on the point of coming to an understanding with him, in order to
put an end to the system, when an unfortunate accident saved me that
trouble, by involving us in inextricable ruin.

"One night we stopped in Paris to sleep, as it had now indeed become
our constant habit.  The servant-maid who on such occasions remained
alone at Chaillot, came early the next morning to inform me that our
house had taken fire in the night, and that the flames had been
extinguished with great difficulty.  I asked whether the furniture had
suffered.  She answered, that there had been such confusion, owing to
the multitude of strangers who came to offer assistance, that she could
hardly ascertain what damage had been done.  I was principally uneasy
about our money, which had been locked up in a little box.  I went off
in haste to Chaillot.  Vain hope! the box had disappeared!

"I discovered that one could love money without being a miser. This
loss afflicted me to such a degree that I was almost out of my mind.  I
saw at one glance to what new calamities I should be exposed: poverty
was the least of them.  I knew Manon thoroughly; I had already had
abundant proof that, although faithful and attached to me under happier
circumstances, she could not be depended upon in want: pleasure and
plenty she loved too well to sacrifice them for my sake.  'I shall lose
her!' I cried; 'miserable chevalier! you are about then to lose all
that you love on earth!'  This thought agitated me to such a degree
that I actually for some moments considered whether it would not be
best for me to end at once all my miseries by death.  I however
preserved presence of mind enough to reflect whether I was entirely
without resource, and an idea occurred to me which quieted my despair.
It would not be impossible, I thought, to conceal our loss from Manon;
and I might perhaps discover some ways and means of supplying her, so
as to ward off the inconveniences of poverty.

"I had calculated in endeavouring to comfort myself, that twenty
thousand crowns would support us for ten years.  Suppose that these ten
years had now elapsed, and that none of the events which I had looked
for in my family had occurred.  What then would have been my course?  I
hardly know; but whatever I should then have done, why may I not do
now?  How many are there in Paris, who have neither my talents, nor the
natural advantages I possess, and who, notwithstanding, owe their
support to the exercise of their talents, such as they are?

"'Has not Providence,' I added, while reflecting on the different
conditions of life, 'arranged things wisely?'  The greater number of
the powerful and the rich are fools.  No one who knows anything of the
world can doubt that.  How admirable is the compensating justice
thereof!  If wealth brought with it talent also, the rich would be too
happy, and other men too wretched.  To these latter are given personal
advantages and genius, to help them out of misery and want.  Some of
them share the riches of the wealthy by administering to their
pleasures, or by making them their dupes; others afford them
instruction, and endeavour to make them decent members of society; to
be sure, they do not always succeed; but that was probably not the
intention of the divine wisdom.  In every case they derive a benefit
from their labours by living at the expense of their pupils; and, in
whatever point of view it is considered, the follies of the rich are a
bountiful source of revenue to the humbler classes.

"These thoughts restored me a little to my spirits and to my reason.  I
determined first to consult M. Lescaut, the brother of Manon.  He knew
Paris perfectly; and I had too many opportunities of learning that it
was neither from his own estates, nor from the king's pay, that he
derived the principal portion of his income.  I had about thirty-three
crowns left, which I fortunately happened to have about me.  I showed
him my purse, and explained to him my misfortune and my fears, and then
asked him whether I had any alternative between starvation and blowing
out my brains in despair.  He coolly replied that suicide was the
resource of fools.  As to dying of want, there were hundreds of men of
genius who found themselves reduced to that state when they would not
employ their talents; that it was for myself to discover what I was
capable of doing, and he told me to reckon upon his assistance and his
advice in any enterprise I might undertake.

"'Vague enough, M. Lescaut!' said I to him: 'my wants demand a more
speedy remedy; for what am I to say to Manon?'  'Apropos of Manon,'
replied he, 'what is it that annoys you about her? Cannot you always
find in her wherewithal to meet your wants, when you wish it?  Such a
person ought to support us all, you and me as well as herself.'  He cut
short the answer which I was about to give to such unfeeling and brutal
impertinence, by going on to say, that before night he would ensure me
a thousand crowns to divide between us, if I would only follow his
advice; that he was acquainted with a nobleman, who was so liberal in
affairs of the kind, that he was certain he would not hesitate for a
moment to give the sum named for the favours of such a girl as Manon.

"I stopped him.  'I had a better opinion of you,' said I; 'I had
imagined that your motive for bestowing your friendship upon me was
very different indeed from the one you now betray.'  With the greatest
effrontery he acknowledged that he had been always of the same mind,
and that his sister having once sacrificed her virtue, though it might
be to the man she most loved, he would never have consented to a
reconciliation with her, but with the hope of deriving some advantage
from her past misconduct.

"It was easy to see that we had been hitherto his dupes.
Notwithstanding the disgust with which his proposition inspired me,
still, as I felt that I had occasion for his services, I said, with
apparent complacency, that we ought only to entertain such a plan as a
last resource.  I begged of him to suggest some other.

"He proposed to me to turn my youth and the good looks nature had
bestowed upon me to some account, by establishing a liaison with some
generous old dame.  This was just as little to my taste, for it would
necessarily have rendered me unfaithful to Manon.

"I mentioned play as the easiest scheme, and the most suitable to my
present situation.  He admitted that play certainly was a resource, but
that it was necessary to consider the point well. 'Mere play,' said he,
'with its ordinary chances, is the certain road to ruin; and as for
attempting, alone and without an ally, to employ the little means an
adroit man has for correcting the vagaries of luck, it would be too
dangerous an experiment.' There was, he stated, a third course, which
was to enter into what he called a partnership; but he feared his
confederates would consider my youth an objection to my admittance.
He, however, promised to use his influence with them; and, what was
more than I expected at his hands, he said that he would supply me with
a little money whenever I had pressing occasion for any. The only
favour I then asked of him was to say nothing to Manon of the loss I
had experienced, nor of the subject of our conversation.

"I certainly derived little comfort from my visit to Lescaut; I felt
even sorry for having confided my secret to him: not a single thing had
he done for me that I might not just as well have done for myself,
without troubling him; and I could not help dreading that he would
violate his promise to keep the secret from Manon.  I had also reason
to apprehend, from his late avowals, that he might form the design of
making use of her for his own vile purposes, or at least of advising
her to quit me for some happier and more wealthy lover.  This idea
brought in its train a thousand reflections, which had no other effect
than to torment me, and throw me again into the state of despair in
which I had passed the morning.  It occurred to me, more than once, to
write to my father; and to pretend a new reformation, in order to
obtain some pecuniary assistance from him; but I could not forget that,
notwithstanding all his natural love and affection for me, he had shut
me up for six months in a confined room for my first transgression; and
I was certain that, after the scandalous sensation caused by my flight
from St. Sulpice, he would be sure to treat me with infinitely more
rigour now.

"At length, out of this chaos of fancies came an idea that all at once
restored ease to my mind, and which I was surprised at not having hit
upon sooner; this was, to go again to my friend Tiberge, in whom I
might be always sure of finding the same unfailing zeal and friendship.
There is nothing more glorious--nothing that does more honour to true
virtue, than the confidence with which one approaches a friend of tried
integrity; no apprehension, no risk of unkind repulse: if it be not
always in his power to afford the required succour, one is sure at
least of meeting kindness and compassion.  The heart of the poor
supplicant, which remains impenetrably closed to the rest of the world,
opens in his presence, as a flower expands before the orb of day, from
which it instinctively knows it can derive a cheering and benign
influence only.

"I consider it a blessing to have thought so apropos of Tiberge, and
resolved to take measures to find him before evening.  I returned at
once to my lodgings to write him a line, and fix a convenient place for
our meeting.  I requested secrecy and discretion, as the most important
service he could render me under present circumstances.

"The pleasure I derived from the prospect of seeing Tiberge dissipated
every trace of melancholy, which Manon would not have failed otherwise
to detect in my countenance.  I described our misfortune at Chaillot as
a trifle which ought not to annoy her; and Paris being the spot she
liked best in the world, she was not sorry to hear me say that it would
be necessary for us to remain there entirely, until the little damage
was repaired which had been caused by the fire at Chaillot.

"In an hour I received an answer from Tiberge, who promised to be at
the appointed rendezvous.  I went there punctually.  I certainly felt
some shame at encountering a friend whose presence alone ought to be a
reproach to my iniquities; but I was supported by the opinion I had of
the goodness of his heart, as well as by my anxiety about Manon.

"I had begged of him to meet me in the garden of the Palais Royal.  He
was there before me.  He hastened towards me, the moment he saw me
approach and shook me warmly by both hands.  I said that I could not
help feeling perfectly ashamed to meet him, and that I was weighed down
by a sense of my ingratitude; that the first thing I implored of him
was to tell me whether I might still consider him my friend, after
having so justly incurred the loss of his esteem and affection.  He
replied, in the kindest possible manner, that it was not in the nature
of things to destroy his regard for me; that my misfortunes even, or,
if he might so call them, my faults and transgressions, had but
increased the interest he felt for me; but that he must confess his
affection was not unalloyed by a sentiment of the liveliest sorrow,
such as a person may be supposed to feel at seeing a beloved object on
the brink of ruin, and beyond the reach of his assistance.

"We sat down upon a bench.  'Alas!' said I with a deep sigh, 'your
compassion must be indeed great, my dear Tiberge, if you assure me it
is equal to my sufferings.  I am almost ashamed to recount them, for I
confess they have been brought on by no very creditable course of
conduct: the results, however, are so truly melancholy, that a friend
even less attached than you would be affected by the recital.'

"He then begged of me, in proof of friendship, to let him know, without
any disguise, all that had occurred to me since my departure from St.
Sulpice.  I gratified him; and so far from concealing anything, or
attempting to extenuate my faults, I spoke of my passion with all the
ardour with which it still inspired me.  I represented it to him as one
of those especial visitations of fate, which draw on the devoted victim
to his ruin, and which it is as impossible for virtue itself to resist,
as for human wisdom to foresee.  I painted to him in the most vivid
colours, my excitement, my fears, the state of despair in which I had
been two hours before I saw him, and into which I should be again
plunged, if I found my friends as relentless as fate had been.  I at
length made such an impression upon poor Tiberge, that I saw he was as
much affected by compassion, as I by the recollection of my sufferings.

"He took my hand, and exhorted me to have courage and be comforted;
but, as he seemed to consider it settled that Manon and I were to
separate, I gave him at once to understand that it was that very
separation I considered as the most intolerable of all my misfortunes;
and that I was ready to endure not only the last degree of misery, but
death itself, of the cruellest kind, rather than seek relief in a
remedy worse than the whole accumulation of my woes.

"'Explain yourself, then,' said he to me; 'what assistance can I afford
you, if you reject everything I propose?'  I had not courage to tell
him that it was from his purse I wanted relief. He, however,
comprehended it in the end; and acknowledging that he believed he now
understood me, he remained for a moment in an attitude of thought, with
the air of a person revolving something in his mind.  'Do not imagine,'
he presently said, 'that my hesitation arises from any diminution of my
zeal and friendship; but to what an alternative do you now reduce me,
since I must either refuse you the assistance you ask, or violate my
most sacred duty in affording it!  For is it not participating in your
sin to furnish you with the means of continuing its indulgence?'

"'However,' continued he, after a moment's thought, 'it is perhaps the
excited state into which want has thrown you, that denies you now the
liberty of choosing the proper path.  Man's mind must be at rest, to
know the luxury of wisdom and virtue.  I can afford to let you have
some money; and permit me, my dear chevalier, to impose but one
condition; that is, that you let me know the place of your abode, and
allow me the opportunity of using my exertions to reclaim you.  I know
that there is in your heart a love of virtue, and that you have been
only led astray by the violence of your passions.'

"I, of course, agreed to everything he asked, and only begged of him to
deplore the malign destiny which rendered me callous to the counsels of
so virtuous a friend.  He then took me to a banker of his acquaintance,
who gave one hundred and seventy crowns for his note of hand, which was
taken as cash.  I have already said that he was not rich.  His living
was worth about six thousand francs a year, but as this was the first
year since his induction, he had as yet touched none of the receipts,
and it was out of the future income that he made me this advance.

"I felt the full force of his generosity, even to such a degree as
almost to deplore the fatal passion which thus led me to break through
all the restraints of duty.  Virtue had for a moment the ascendancy in
my heart, and made me sensible of my shame and degradation.  But this
was soon over.  For Manon I could have given up my hopes of heaven, and
when I again found myself at her side, I wondered how I could for an
instant have considered myself degraded by my passion for this
enchanting girl.

"Manon was a creature of most extraordinary disposition.  Never had
mortal a greater contempt for money, and yet she was haunted by
perpetual dread of wanting it.  Her only desire was for pleasure and
amusement.  She would never have wished to possess a sou, if pleasure
could be procured without money.  She never even cared what our purse
contained, provided she could pass the day agreeably; so that, being
neither fond of play nor at all dazzled by the desire of great wealth,
nothing was more easy than to satisfy her, by daily finding out
amusements suited to her moderate wishes.  But it became by habit a
thing so absolutely necessary for her to have her mind thus occupied,
that, without it, it was impossible to exercise the smallest influence
over her temper or inclinations.  Although she loved me tenderly, and I
was the only person, as she often declared, in whose society she could
ever find the pure enjoyments of love, yet I felt thoroughly convinced
that her attachment could not withstand certain apprehensions.  She
would have preferred me, even with a moderate fortune, to the whole
world; but I had no kind of doubt that she would, on the other hand,
abandon me for some new M. de B----, when I had nothing more to offer
her than fidelity and love.

"I resolved therefore so to curtail my own individual expenses, as to
be able always to meet hers, and rather to deprive myself of a thousand
necessaries than even to limit her extravagance. The carriage made me
more uneasy than anything else, for I saw no chance of being able to
maintain either coachman or horses.

"I told M. Lescaut of my difficulties, and did not conceal from him
that I had received a thousand francs from a friend.  He repeated, that
if I wished to try the chances of the gaming-table, he was not without
hopes that, by spending a few crowns in entertaining his associates, I
might be, on his recommendation, admitted into the association.  With
all my repugnance to cheating, I yielded to dire necessity.

"Lescaut presented me that night as a relation of his own.  He added,
that I was the more likely to succeed in my new profession, from
wanting the favours of fortune.  However, to show them that I was not
quite reduced to the lowest ebb, he said it was my intention to treat
them with a supper.  The offer was accepted, and I entertained them en
prince.  They talked a good deal about my fashionable appearance and
the apparent amiability of my disposition; they said that the best
hopes might be entertained of me, because there was something in my
countenance that bespoke the gentleman, and no one therefore could have
a suspicion of my honesty: they voted thanks to Lescaut for having
introduced so promising a novice, and deputed one of the members to
instruct me for some days in the necessary manoeuvres.

"The principal scene of my exploits was the hotel of Transylvania,
where there was a faro table in one room, and other games of cards and
dice in the gallery.  This academy was kept by the Prince of R----, who
then lived at Clagny, and most of his officers belonged to our society.
Shall I mention it to my shame?  I profited quickly by my instructor's
tuition.  I acquired an amazing facility in sleight of hand tricks, and
learned in perfection to sauter le coup; with the help of a pair of
long ruffles, I shuffled so adroitly as to defy the quickest observer,
and I ruined several fair players.  My unrivalled skill so quickened
the progress of my fortunes, that I found myself master, in a few
weeks, of very considerable sums, besides what I divided in good faith
with my companions.

"I had no longer any fear of communicating to Manon the extent of our
loss at Chaillot, and, to console her on the announcement of such
disastrous news, I took a furnished house, where we established
ourselves in all the pride of opulence and security.

"Tiberge was in the habit, at this period, of paying me frequent
visits.  He was never tired of his moral lectures.  Over and over again
did he represent to me the injury I was inflicting upon my conscience,
my honour, and my fortune.  I received all his advice kindly, and
although I had not the smallest inclination to adopt it, I had no doubt
of its sincerity, for I knew its source. Sometimes I rallied him
good-humouredly, and entreated him not to be more tight-laced than some
other priests were, and even bishops, who by no means considered a
mistress incompatible with a good and holy life.'  'Look,' I said, 'at
Manon's eyes, and tell me if there is one in the long catalogue of sins
that might not there find a plea of justification.'  He bore these
sallies patiently, and carried his forbearance almost too far: but when
he saw my funds increase, and that I had not only returned him the
hundred and seventy crowns, but having hired a new house and trebled my
expenses, I had plunged deeper than ever into a life of pleasure, he
changed his tone and manner towards me.  He lamented my obduracy.  He
warned me against the chastisement of the Divine wrath, and predicted
some of the miseries with which indeed I was shortly afterwards
visited.  'It is impossible,' he said, 'that the money which now serves
to support your debaucheries can have been acquired honourably.  You
have come by it unjustly, and in the same way shall it be taken from
you.  The most awful punishment Heaven could inflict would be to allow
you the undisturbed enjoyment of it.  All my advice,' he added, 'has
been useless; I too plainly perceive that it will shortly become
troublesome to you.  I now take my leave; you are a weak, as well as an
ungrateful friend!  May your criminal enjoyments vanish as a shadow!
may your ill-gotten wealth leave you without a resource; and may you
yourself remain alone and deserted, to learn the vanity of these
things, which now divert you from better pursuits!  When that time
arrives, you will find me disposed to love and to serve you; this day
ends our intercourse, and I once for all avow my horror of the life you
are leading.'

"It was in my room and in Manon's presence that he delivered this
apostolical harangue.  He rose to depart.  I was about to detain him;
but was prevented by Manon, who said it was better to let the madman go.

"What he said, however, did not fail to make some impression upon me.
I notice these brief passages of my life when I experienced a returning
sentiment of virtue, because it was to those traces, however light,
that I was afterwards indebted for whatever of fortitude I displayed
under the most trying circumstances.

"Manon's caresses soon dissipated the annoyance this scene had caused
me.  We continued to lead a life entirely devoted to pleasure and love.
The increase of our wealth only redoubled our affection.  There were none
happier among all the devotees of Venus and Fortune.  Heavens! why call
this a world of misery, when it can furnish a life of such rapturous
enjoyment?  But alas, it is too soon over!  For what ought man to sigh,
could such felicity but last for ever?  Ours shared the common fate--in
being of short duration, and followed by lasting regrets.

"I had realised by play such a considerable sum of money, that I
thought of investing a portion of it.  My servants were not ignorant of
my good luck, particularly my valet and Manon's own maid, before whom
we often talked without any reserve.  The maid was handsome, and my
valet in love with her.  They knew they had to deal with a young and
inexperienced couple, whom they fancied they could impose upon without
much difficulty.  They laid a plan, and executed it with so much skill,
that they reduced us to a state from which it was never afterwards
possible for us to extricate ourselves.

"Having supped one evening at Lescaut's, it was about midnight when we
returned home.  I asked for my valet, and Manon for her maid; neither
one nor the other could be found.  They had not been seen in the house
since eight o'clock, and had gone out, after having some cases carried
before them, according to orders which they pretended to have received
from me.  I at once foresaw a part of the truth, but my suspicions were
infinitely surpassed by what presented itself on going into my room.
The lock of my closet had been forced, and my cash as well as my best
clothes were gone.  While I stood stupefied with amazement, Manon came,
in the greatest alarm, to inform me that her apartment had been rifled
in the same manner.

"This blow was so perfectly astounding, so cruel, that it was with
difficulty I could refrain from tears.  The dread of infecting Manon
with my despair made me assume a more contented air.  I said, smiling,
that I should avenge myself upon some unhappy dupe at the hotel of
Transylvania.  However, she appeared so sensibly affected, that her
grief increased my sorrow infinitely more than my attempt succeeded in
supporting her spirits.  'We are destroyed!' said she, with tears in
her eyes. I endeavoured, in vain, by my entreaties and caresses, to
console her.  My own lamentations betrayed my distress and despair.  In
fact, we were so completely ruined, that we were bereft almost of
decent covering.

"I determined to send off at once for Lescaut.  He advised me to go
immediately to the lieutenant of police, and to give information also
to the Grand Provost of Paris.  I went, but it was to add to my
calamities only; for, independently of my visit producing not the
smallest good effect, I, by my absence, allowed Lescaut time for
discussion with his sister, during which he did not fail to inspire her
with the most horrible resolutions.  He spoke to her about M. G----
M----, an old voluptuary, who paid prodigally for his pleasures; he so
glowingly described the advantages of such a connection, that she
entered into all his plans.  This discreditable arrangement was all
concluded before my return, and the execution of it only postponed till
the next morning, after Lescaut should have apprised G---- M----.

"I found him, on my return, waiting for me at my house; but Manon had
retired to her own apartment, and she had desired the footman to tell
me that, having need of repose, she hoped she should not be disturbed
that night.  Lescaut left me, after offering me a few crowns which I
accepted.

"It was nearly four o'clock when I retired to bed; and having revolved
in my mind various schemes for retrieving my fortunes, I fell asleep so
late that I did not awake till between eleven and twelve o'clock.  I
rose at once to enquire after Manon's health; they told me that she had
gone out an hour before with her brother, who had come for her in a
hired carriage.  Although there appeared something mysterious in such a
proceeding, I endeavoured to check my rising suspicions.  I allowed
some hours to pass, during which I amused myself with reading.  At
length, being unable any longer to stifle my uneasiness, I paced up and
down the apartments.  A sealed letter upon Manon's table at last caught
my eye.  It was addressed to me, and in her handwriting. I felt my
blood freeze as I opened it; it was in these words:


I protest to you, dearest chevalier, that you are the idol of my heart,
and that you are the only being on earth whom I can truly love; but do
you not see, my own poor dear chevalier, that in the situation to which
we are now reduced, fidelity would be worse than madness?  Do you think
tenderness possibly compatible with starvation?  For my part, hunger
would be sure to drive me to some fatal end.  Heaving some day a sigh
for love, I should find it was my last.  I adore you, rely upon that;
but leave to me, for a short while, the management of our fortunes.
God help the man who falls into my hands.  My only wish is to render my
chevalier rich and happy.  My brother will tell you about me; he can
vouch for my grief in yielding to the necessity of parting from you.


"I remained, after reading this, in a state which it would be difficult
to describe; for even now I know not the nature of the feelings which
then agitated me.  It was one of those unique situations of which
others can never have experienced anything even approaching to
similarity.  It is impossible to explain it, because other persons can
have no idea of its nature; and one can hardly even analyse it to
oneself.  Memory furnishes nothing that will connect it with the past,
and therefore ordinary language is inadequate to describe it.  Whatever
was its nature, however, it is certain that grief, hate, jealousy, and
shame entered into its composition.  Fortunate would it have proved for
me if love also had not been a component part!

"'That she loves me,' I exclaimed, 'I can believe; but could she,
without being a monster, hate me?  What right can man ever have to
woman's affections which I had not to Manon's?  What is left to me,
after all the sacrifices I have made for her sake? Yet she abandons me,
and the ungrateful creature thinks to screen herself from my reproaches
by professions of love!  She pretends to dread starvation!  God of
love, what grossness of sentiment! What an answer to the refinement of
my adoration!  I had no dread of that kind; I, who have almost sought
starvation for her sake, by renouncing fortune and the comforts of my
father's house!  I, who denied myself actual necessaries, in order to
gratify her little whims and caprices!  She adores me, she says.  If
you adored me, ungrateful creature, I well know what course you would
have taken; you would never have quitted me, at least without saying
adieu.  It is only I who can tell the pangs and torments, of being
separated from all one loves.  I must have taken leave of my senses, to
have voluntarily brought all this misery upon myself.'

"My lamentations were interrupted by a visit I little expected; it was
from Lescaut.  'Assassin!' cried I, putting my hand upon my sword,
'where is Manon? what have you done with her?'  My agitation startled
him.  He replied, that if this was the reception he was to meet, when
he came to offer me the most essential service it was in his power to
render me, he should take his leave, and never again cross my
threshold.  I ran to the door of the apartment, which I shut. 'Do not
imagine,' I said, turning towards him, 'that you can once more make a
dupe of me with your lies and inventions.  Either defend your life, or
tell me where I can find Manon.'  'How impatient you are!' replied he;
'that was in reality the object of my visit.  I came to announce a
piece of good fortune which you little expected, and for which you will
probably feel somewhat grateful.'  My curiosity was at once excited.

"He informed me that Manon, totally unable to endure the dread of want,
and, above all, the certainty of being at once obliged to dispense with
her equipage, had begged of him to make her acquainted with M. G----
M----, who had a character for liberality.  He carefully avoided
telling me that this was the result of his own advice, and that he had
prepared the way before he introduced his sister.  'I took her there
this morning,' said he, 'and the fellow was so enchanted with her looks
that he at once invited her to accompany him to his country seat, where
he is gone to pass some days.  As I plainly perceived,' said Lescaut,
'the advantage it may be to you, I took care to let him know that she
had lately experienced very considerable losses; and I so piqued his
generosity that he began by giving her four hundred crowns.  I told him
that was well enough for a commencement, but that my sister would have,
for the future, many demands for money; that she had the charge of a
young brother, who had been thrown upon her hands since the death of
our parents; and that, if he wished to prove himself worthy of her
affections, he would not allow her to suffer uneasiness upon account of
this child, whom she regarded as part of herself. This speech produced
its effect, he at once promised to take a house for you and Manon, for
you must know that you are the poor little orphan.  He undertook to set
you up in furniture, and to give you four hundred livres a month, which
if I calculate rightly, will amount to four thousand eight hundred per
annum. He left orders with his steward to look out for a house, and to
have it in readiness by the time he returned.  You will soon,
therefore, again see Manon, who begged of me to give you a thousand
tender messages, and to assure you that she loves you more dearly than
ever.'"



V

  Infected with that leprosy of lust,
  Which taints the hoariest years of vicious men
  Making them ransack to the very last
  The dregs of pleasure for their vanished joys.
        BYRON.


"On sitting down to reflect upon this strange turn of fate, I found
myself so perplexed, and consequently so incapable of arriving at any
rational conclusion, that I allowed Lescaut to put repeated questions
to me without in the slightest degree attending to their purport.  It
was then that honour and virtue made me feel the most poignant remorse,
and that I recalled with bitterness Amiens, my father's house, St.
Sulpice, and every spot where I had ever lived in happy innocence.  By
what a terrific interval was I now separated from that blessed state!
I beheld it no longer but as a dim shadow in the distance, still
attracting my regrets and desires, but without the power of rousing me
to exertion.  'By what fatality,' said I, 'have I become thus degraded?
Love is not a guilty passion! why then has it been to me the source of
profligacy and distress?  Who prevented me from leading a virtuous and
tranquil life with Manon?  Why did I not marry her before I obtained
any concession from her love?  Would not my father, who had the
tenderest regard for me, have given his consent, if I had taken the
fair and candid course of soliciting him?  Yes, my father would himself
have cherished her as one far too good to be his son's wife!  I should
have been happy in the love of Manon, in the affection of my father, in
the esteem of the world, with a moderate portion of the good things of
life, and above all with the consciousness of virtue.  Disastrous
change!  Into what an infamous character is it here proposed that I
should sink?  To share----  But can I hesitate, if Manon herself
suggests it, and if I am to lose her except upon such conditions?
'Lescaut,' said I, putting my hands to my eyes as if to shut out such a
horrifying vision, 'if your intention was to render me a service, I
give you thanks.  You might perhaps have struck out a more reputable
course, but it is so settled, is it not?  Let us then only think of
profiting by your labour, and fulfilling your engagements.'

"Lescaut, who had been considerably embarrassed, not only by my fury,
but by the long silence which followed it, was too happy to see me now
take a course so different from what he had anticipated.  He had not a
particle of courage, of which indeed I have, in the sequel of my story,
abundant proof.  'Yes, yes,' he quickly answered, 'it is good service I
have rendered you, and you will find that we shall derive infinitely
more advantage from it than you now expect.'  We consulted then as to
the best mode of preventing the suspicions which G---- M---- might
entertain of our relationship, when he found me older and of riper
manhood than he probably imagined.  The only plan we could hit upon was
to assume in his presence an innocent and provincial air, and to
persuade him that it was my intention to enter the Church, and that
with that view I was obliged to go every day to the college. We also
determined that I should appear as awkward as I possibly could the
first time I was admitted to the honour of an introduction.

"He returned to town three or four days after, and at once conducted
Manon to the house which his steward had in the meantime prepared.  She
immediately apprised Lescaut of her return, and he having informed me,
we went together to her new abode.  The old lover had already gone out.

"In spite of the submission with which I had resigned myself to her
wishes, I could not, at our meeting, repress the compunctious visitings
of my conscience.  I appeared before her grieved and dejected.  The joy
I felt at seeing her once more could not altogether dispel my sorrow
for her infidelity: she, on the contrary, appeared transported with the
pleasure of seeing me. She accused me of coldness.  I could not help
muttering the words perfidious and unfaithful, though they were
profusely mixed with sighs.

"At first she laughed at me for my simplicity; but when she found that
I continued to look at her with an unchanging expression of melancholy,
and that I could not bring myself to enter with alacrity into a scene
so repugnant to all my feelings, she went alone into her boudoir.  I
very soon followed her, and then I found her in a flood of tears.  I
asked the cause of her sorrow.  'You can easily understand it,' said
she; 'how can you wish me to live, if my presence can no longer have
any other effect than to give you an air of sadness and chagrin?  Not
one kiss have you given me during the long hour you have been in the
house, while you have received my caresses with the dignified
indifference of a Grand Turk, receiving the forced homage of the
Sultanas of his harem.'

"'Hearken to me, Manon,' said I, embracing her; 'I cannot conceal from
you that my heart is bitterly afflicted.  I do not now allude to the
uneasiness your sudden flight caused me, nor to the unkindness of
quitting me without a word of consolation, after having passed the
night away from me.  The pleasure of seeing you again would more than
compensate for all; but do you imagine that I can reflect without sighs
and tears upon the degrading and unhappy life which you now wish me to
lead in this house?  Say nothing of my birth, or of my feelings of
honour; love like mine derives no aid from arguments of that feeble
nature; but do you imagine that I can without emotion see my love so
badly recompensed, or rather so cruelly treated, by an ungrateful and
unfeeling mistress?'

"She interrupted me. 'Stop, chevalier,' said she, 'it is useless to
torture me with reproaches, which, coming from you, always pierce my
heart.  I see what annoys you.  I had hoped that you would have agreed
to the project which I had devised for mending our shattered fortunes,
and it was from a feeling of delicacy to you that I began the execution
of it without your assistance; but I give it up since it does not meet
your approbation.'  She added that she would now merely request a
little patient forbearance during the remainder of the day; that she
had already received five hundred crowns from the old gentleman, and
that he had promised to bring her that evening a magnificent pearl
necklace with other jewels, and, in advance, half of the yearly pension
he had engaged to allow her.  'Leave me only time enough,' said she to
me, to get possession of these presents; I promise you that he will
have little to boast of from his connection with me, for in the country
I repulsed all his advances, putting him off till our return to town.
It is true that he has kissed my hand a thousand times over, and it is
but just that he should pay for even this amusement:  I am sure that,
considering his riches as well as his age, five or six thousand francs
is not an unreasonable price!'

"Her determination was of more value in my eyes than twenty thousand
crowns.  I could feel that I was not yet bereft of every sentiment of
honour, by the satisfaction I experienced at escaping thus from infamy.
But I was born for brief joys, and miseries of long duration.  Fate
never rescued me from one precipice, but to lead me to another.  When I
had expressed my delight to Manon at this change in her intentions, I
told her she had better inform Lescaut of it, in order that we might
take our measures in concert.  At first he murmured, but the money in
hand induced him to enter into our views.  It was then determined that
we should all meet at G---- M----'s supper table, and that, for two
reasons: first, for the amusement of passing me off as a schoolboy, and
brother to Manon; and secondly, to prevent the old profligate from
taking any liberties with his mistress, on the strength of his liberal
payments in advance.  Lescaut and I were to retire, when he went to the
room where he expected to pass the night; and Manon, instead of
following him, promised to come out, and join us.  Lescaut undertook to
have a coach waiting at the door.

"The supper hour having arrived, M. G---- M---- made his appearance.
Already Lescaut was with his sister in the supper room.  The moment the
lover entered, he presented his fair one with a complete set of pearls,
necklaces, ear-rings, and bracelets, which must have cost at least a
thousand crowns.  He then placed on the table before her, in louis
d'or, two thousand four hundred francs, the half of her year's
allowance.  He seasoned his present with many pretty speeches in the
true style of the old court.  Manon could not refuse him a few kisses:
it was sealing her right to the money which he had just handed to her.
I was at the door, and waiting for Lescaut's signal to enter the room.

"He approached to take me by the hand, while Manon was securing the
money and jewels, and leading me towards M. G---- M----, he desired me
to make my bow.  I made two or three most profound ones.  'Pray excuse
him, sir,' said Lescaut, 'he is a mere child. He has not yet acquired
much of the ton of Paris; but no doubt with a little trouble we shall
improve him.  You will often have the honour of seeing that gentleman,
here,' said he, turning towards me: 'take advantage of it, and
endeavour to imitate so good a model.'

"The old libertine appeared to be pleased with me.  He patted me on the
cheek, saying that I was a fine boy, but that I should be on my guard
in Paris, where young men were easily debauched. Lescaut assured him
that I was naturally of so grave a character that I thought of nothing
but becoming a clergyman, and that, even as a child, my favourite
amusement was building little chapels.  'I fancy a likeness to Manon,'
said the old gentleman, putting his hand under my chin.  I answered
him, with the most simple air-- 'Sir, the fact is, that we are very
closely connected, and I love my sister as another portion of myself.'
'Do you hear that,' said he to Lescaut; 'he is indeed a clever boy!  It
is a pity he should not see something of the world.' 'Oh, sir,' I
replied, 'I have seen a great deal of it at home, attending church, and
I believe I might find in Paris some greater fools than myself.'
'Listen,' said he; 'it is positively wonderful in a boy from the
country.'

"The whole conversation during supper was of the same kind. Manon, with
her usual gaiety, was several times on the point of spoiling the joke
by her bursts of laughter.  I contrived, while eating, to recount his
own identical history, and to paint even the fate that awaited him.
Lescaut and Manon were in an agony of fear during my recital,
especially while I was drawing his portrait to the life: but his own
vanity prevented him from recognising it, and I did it so well that he
was the first to pronounce it extremely laughable.  You will allow that
I had reason for dwelling on this ridiculous scene.

"At length it was time to retire.  He hinted at the impatience of love.
Lescaut and I took our departure.  G---- M---- went to his room, and
Manon, making some excuse for her absence, came to join us at the gate.
The coach, that was waiting for us a few doors off, drove up towards
us, and we were out of the street in an instant.

"Although I must confess that this proceeding appeared to me little
short of actual robbery, it was not the most dishonest one with which I
thought I had to reproach myself.  I had more scruples about the money
which I had won at play.  However, we derived as little advantage from
one as from the other; and Heaven sometimes ordains that the lightest
fault shall meet the severest punishment.

"M. G---- M---- was not long in finding out that he had been duped.  I
am not sure whether he took any steps that night to discover us, but he
had influence enough to ensure an effectual pursuit, and we were
sufficiently imprudent to rely upon the extent of Paris and the
distance between our residence and his. Not only did he discover our
abode and our circumstances, but also who I was--the life that I had
led in Paris--Manon's former connection with B----,--the manner in
which she had deceived him: in a word, all the scandalous facts of our
history.  He therefore resolved to have us apprehended, and treated
less as criminals than as vagabonds.  An officer came abruptly one
morning into our bedroom, with half a dozen archers of the guard.  They
first took possession of our money, or I should rather say, of
G----M----'s. They made us quickly get up, and conducted us to the
door, where we found two coaches, into one of which they forced poor
Manon, without any explanation, and I was taken in the other to St.
Lazare.

"One must have experienced this kind of reverse, to understand the
despair that is caused by it.  The police were savage enough to deny me
the consolation of embracing Manon, or of bidding her farewell.  I
remained for a long time ignorant of her fate.  It was perhaps
fortunate for me that I was kept in a state of ignorance, for had I
known what she suffered, I should have lost my senses, probably my life.

"My unhappy mistress was dragged then from my presence, and taken to a
place the very name of which fills me with horror to remember.  This to
be the lot of a creature the most perfect, who must have shared the
most splendid throne on earth, if other men had only seen and felt as I
did!  She was not treated harshly there, but was shut up in a narrow
prison, and obliged, in solitary confinement, to perform a certain
quantity of work each day, as a necessary condition for obtaining the
most unpalatable food.  I did not learn this till a long time after,
when I had myself endured some months of rough and cruel treatment.

"My guards not having told me where it was that they had been ordered
to conduct me, it was only on my arrival at St. Lazare that I learned
my destination.  I would have preferred death, at that moment, to the
state into which I believed myself about to be thrown.  I had the
utmost terror of this place.  My misery was increased by the guards on
my entrance, examining once more my pockets, to ascertain whether I had
about me any arms or weapons of defence.

"The governor appeared.  He had been informed of my apprehension.  He
saluted me with great mildness.  'Do not, my good sir,' said I to him,
'allow me to be treated with indignity. I would suffer a hundred deaths
rather than quietly submit to degrading treatment.'  'No, no,' he
replied, 'you will act quietly and prudently, and we shall be mutually
content with each other.'  He begged of me to ascend to one of the
highest rooms; I followed him without a murmur.  The archers
accompanied us to the door, and the governor, entering the room, made a
sign for them to depart.  'I am your prisoner, I suppose?' said I;
'well, what do you intend to do with me?'  He said, he was delighted to
see me adopt so reasonable a tone; that it would be his duty to
endeavour to inspire me with a taste for virtue and religion, and mine
to profit by his exhortations and advice: that lightly as I might be
disposed to rate his attentions to me, I should find nothing but
enjoyment in my solitude.  'Ah, enjoyment, indeed!' replied I; 'you do
not know, my good sir, the only thing on earth that could afford me
enjoyment.'  'I know it,' said he, 'but I trust your inclinations will
change.'  His answer showed that he had heard of my adventures, and
perhaps of my name.  I begged to know if such were the fact.  He told
me candidly that they had informed him of every particular.

"This blow was the severest of any I had yet experienced.  I literally
shed a torrent of tears, in all the bitterness of unmixed despair; I
could not reconcile myself to the humiliation which would make me a
proverb to all my acquaintances, and the disgrace of my family.  I
passed a week in the most profound dejection, without being capable of
gaining any information, or of occupying myself with anything but my
own degradation.  The remembrance even of Manon added nothing to my
grief; it only occurred to me as a circumstance that had preceded my
new sorrow; and the sense of shame and confusion was at present the
all-absorbing passion.

"There are few persons who have experienced the force of these special
workings of the mind.  The generality of men are only sensible of five
or six passions, in the limited round of which they pass their lives,
and within which all their agitations are confined.  Remove them from
the influence of love and hate, pleasure and pain, hope and fear, and
they have no further feeling.  But persons of a finer cast can be
affected in a thousand different ways; it would almost seem that they
had more than five senses, and that they are accessible to ideas and
sensations which far exceed the ordinary faculties of human nature;
and, conscious that they possess a capacity which raises them above the
common herd, there is nothing of which they are more jealous.  Hence
springs their impatience under contempt and ridicule; and hence it is
that a sense of debasement is perhaps the most violent of all their
emotions.

"I had this melancholy advantage at St. Lazare.  My grief appeared to
the governor so excessive, that, dreading the consequences, he thought
he was bound to treat me with more mildness and indulgence.  He visited
me two or three times a day; he often made me take a turn with him in
the garden, and showed his interest for me in his exhortations and good
advice.  I listened always attentively; and warmly expressed my sense
of his kindness, from which he derived hopes of my ultimate conversion.

"'You appear to me,' said he one day, 'of a disposition so mild and
tractable, that I cannot comprehend the excesses into which you have
fallen.  Two things astonish me: one is, how, with your good qualities,
you could have ever abandoned yourself to vice; and the other, which
amazes me still more, is, how you can receive with such perfect temper
my advice and instructions, after having lived so long in a course of
debauchery.  If it be sincere repentance, you present a singular
example of the benign mercy of Heaven; if it proceed from the natural
goodness of your disposition, then you certainly have that within you
which warrants the hope that a protracted residence in this place will
not be required to bring you back to a regular and respectable life.'

"I was delighted to find that he had such an opinion of me.  I resolved
to strengthen it by a continuance of good conduct, convinced that it
was the surest means of abridging the term of my confinement.  I begged
of him to furnish me with books.  He was agreeably surprised to find
that when he requested me to say what I should prefer, I mentioned only
some religious and instructive works.  I pretended to devote myself
assiduously to study, and I thus gave him convincing proof of the moral
reformation he was so anxious to bring about.  It was nothing, however,
but rank hypocrisy--I blush to confess it.  Instead of studying, when
alone I did nothing but curse my destiny.  I lavished the bitterest
execrations on my prison, and the tyrants who detained me there.  If I
ceased for a moment from these lamentations, it was only to relapse
into the tormenting remembrance of my fatal and unhappy love.  Manon's
absence--the mystery in which her fate was veiled--the dread of never
again beholding her; these formed the subject of my melancholy
thoughts.  I fancied her in the arms of G---- M----.  Far from
imagining that he could have been brute enough to subject her to the
same treatment to which I was condemned, I felt persuaded that he had
only procured my removal, in order that he might possess her in
undisturbed enjoyment.

"Oh! how miserable were the days and nights I thus passed!  They seemed
to be of endless duration.  My only hope of escape now, was in
hypocrisy; I scrutinised the countenance, and carefully marked every
observation that fell from the governor, in order to ascertain what he
really thought of me; and looking on him as the sole arbiter of my
future fate, I made it my study to win, if possible, his favour.  I
soon had the satisfaction to find that I was firmly established in his
good graces, and no longer doubted his disposition to befriend me.

"I, one day, ventured to ask him whether my liberation depended on him.
He replied that it was not altogether in his hands, but that he had no
doubt that on his representation M. G---- M----, at whose instance the
lieutenant-general of police had ordered me to be confined, would
consent to my being set at liberty.  'May I flatter myself,' rejoined
I, in the mildest tone, 'that he will consider two months, which I have
now spent in this prison, as a sufficient atonement?'  He offered to
speak to him, if I wished it.  I implored him without delay to do me
that favour.

"He told me two days afterwards that G---- M---- was so sensibly
affected by what he had heard, that he not only was ready to consent to
my liberation, but that he had even expressed a strong desire to become
better acquainted with me, and that he himself purposed to pay me a
visit in prison.  Although his presence could not afford me much
pleasure, I looked upon it as a certain prelude to my liberation.

"He accordingly came to St. Lazare.  I met him with an air more grave
and certainly less silly than I had exhibited at his house with Manon.
He spoke reasonably enough of my former bad conduct. He added, as if to
excuse his own delinquencies, that it was graciously permitted to the
weakness of man to indulge in certain pleasures, almost, indeed,
prompted by nature, but that dishonesty and such shameful practices
ought to be, and always would be, inexorably punished.

"I listened to all he said with an air of submission, which quite
charmed him.  I betrayed no symptoms of annoyance even at some jokes in
which he indulged about my relationship with Manon and Lescaut, and
about the little chapels of which he supposed I must have had time to
erect a great many in St. Lazare, as I was so fond of that occupation.
But he happened, unluckily both for me and for himself, to add, that he
hoped Manon had also employed herself in the same edifying manner at
the Magdalen. Notwithstanding the thrill of horror I felt at the sound
of the name, I had still presence of mind enough to beg, in the
gentlest manner, that he would explain himself.  'Oh! yes,' he replied,
'she has been these last two months at the Magdalen learning to be
prudent, and I trust she has improved herself as much there, as you
have done at St. Lazare!'

"If an eternal imprisonment, or death itself, had been presented to my
view, I could not have restrained the excitement into which this
afflicting announcement threw me.  I flung myself upon him in so
violent a rage that half my strength was exhausted by the effort.  I
had, however, more than enough left to drag him to the ground, and
grasp him by the throat.  I should infallibly have strangled him, if
his fall, and the half-stifled cries which he had still the power to
utter, had not attracted the governor and several of the priests to my
room.  They rescued him from my fury.

"I was, myself, breathless and almost impotent from rage.  'Oh God!' I
cried--'Heavenly justice!  Must I survive this infamy?' I tried again
to seize the barbarian who had thus roused my indignation--they
prevented me.  My despair--my cries--my tears, exceeded all belief: I
raved in so incoherent a manner that all the bystanders, who were
ignorant of the cause, looked at each other with as much dread as
surprise.

"G---- M---- in the meantime adjusted his wig and cravat, and in his
anger at having been so ill-treated, ordered me to be kept under more
severe restraint than before, and to be punished in the manner usual
with offenders in St. Lazare.  'No, sir!' said the governor, 'it is not
with a person of his birth that we are in the habit of using such means
of coercion; besides, he is habitually so mild and well-conducted, that
I cannot but think you must have given provocation for such excessive
violence.' This reply disconcerted G---- M---- beyond measure and he
went away, declaring that he knew how to be revenged on the governor,
as well as on me, and everyone else who dared to thwart him.

"The Superior, having ordered some of the brotherhood to escort him out
of the prison, remained alone with me.  He conjured me to tell him at
once what was the cause of the fracas.--'Oh, my good sir!' said I to
him, continuing to cry like a child, 'imagine the most horrible
cruelty, figure to yourself the most inhuman of atrocities--that is
what G---- M---- has had the cowardly baseness to perpetrate: he has
pierced my heart.  Never shall I recover from this blow!  I would
gladly tell you the whole circumstance,' added I, sobbing with grief;
'you are kind-hearted, and cannot fail to pity me.'

"I gave him, as briefly as I could, a history of my long-standing and
insurmountable passion for Manon, of the flourishing condition of our
fortunes previous to the robbery committed by our servants, of the
offers which G---- M---- had made to my mistress, of the understanding
they had come to, and the manner in which it had been defeated.  To be
sure, I represented things to him in as favourable a light for us as
possible.  'Now you can comprehend,' continued I, 'the source of M.
G---- M----'s holy zeal for my conversion.  He has had influence enough
to have me shut up here, out of mere revenge. That I can pardon; but,
my good sir, that is not all.  He has taken from me my heart's blood:
he has had Manon shamefully incarcerated in the Magdalen; and had the
effrontery to announce it to me this day with his own lips.  In the
Magdalen, good sir! Oh heavens! my adorable mistress, my beloved Manon,
a degraded inmate of the Hospital!  How shall I command strength of
mind enough to survive this grief and shame!'

"The good Father, seeing me in such affliction, endeavoured to console
me.  He told me that he had never understood my history, as I just now
related it; he had of course known that I led a dissolute life, but he
had imagined that M. G---- M----'s interest about me was the result of
his esteem and friendship for my family; that it was in this sense he
had explained the matter to him; that what I had now told him should
assuredly produce a change in my treatment, and that he had no doubt
but the accurate detail which he should immediately transmit to the
lieutenant-general of police would bring about my liberation.

"He then enquired why I had never thought of informing my family of
what had taken place, since they had not been instrumental to my
incarceration.  I satisfactorily answered this by stating my
unwillingness to cause my father pain, or to bring upon myself the
humiliation of such an exposure.  In the end, he promised to go
directly to the lieutenant-general of police if it were only, said he,
to be beforehand with M. G---- M----, who went off in such a rage, and
who had sufficient influence to make himself formidable.

"I looked for the good Father's return with all the suspense of a man
expecting sentence of death.  It was torture to me to think of Manon at
the Magdalen.  Besides the infamy of such a prison, I knew not how she
might be treated there; and the recollection of some particulars I had
formerly heard of this horrible place, incessantly renewed my misery.
Cost what it might, I was so bent upon relieving her by some means or
other, that I should assuredly have set fire to St. Lazare, if no other
mode of escape had presented itself.

"I considered what chances would remain to me if the lieutenant-general
still kept me in confinement.  I taxed my ingenuity: I scanned every
imaginable gleam of hope--I could discover nothing that gave me any
prospect of escape, and I feared that I should experience only more
rigid confinement, if I made an unsuccessful attempt.  I thought of
some friends from whom I might hope for aid, but then, how was I to
make them aware of my situation?  At length I fancied that I had hit
upon a plan so ingenious, as to offer a fair probability of success.  I
postponed the details of its arrangement until after the Superior's
return, in case of his having failed in the object of his visit.

"He soon arrived: I did not observe upon his countenance any of those
marks of joy that indicate good news.  'I have spoken,' said he, 'to
the lieutenant-general of police, but I was too late, M. G---- M----
went straight to him after quitting us, and so prejudiced him against
you, that he was on the point of sending me fresh instructions to
subject you to closer confinement.

"'However, when I let him know the truth of your story, he reconsidered
the matter, and, smiling at the incontinence of old G---- M----, he
said it would be necessary to keep you here for six months longer, in
order to pacify him; the less to be lamented,' he added, 'because your
morals would be sure to benefit by your residence here.  He desired
that I would show you every kindness and attention, and I need not
assure you that you shall have no reason to complain of your treatment.'

"This speech of the Superior's was long enough to afford me time to
form a prudent resolution.  I saw that by betraying too strong an
impatience for my liberty, I should probably be upsetting all my
projects.  I acknowledged to him, that, as it was necessary to me to
remain, it was an infinite comfort to know that I possessed a place in
his esteem.  I then requested, and with unaffected sincerity, a favour,
which could be of no consequence to others, and which would contribute
much to my peace of mind; it was to inform a friend of mine, a devout
clergyman, who lived at St. Sulpice, that I was at St. Lazare, and to
permit me occasionally to receive his visits.

"This was of course my friend Tiberge; not that I could hope from him
the assistance necessary for effecting my liberty; but I wished to make
him the unconscious instrument of my designs.  In a word, this was my
project: I wished to write to Lescaut, and to charge him and our common
friends with the task of my deliverance.  The first difficulty was to
have my letter conveyed to him: this should be Tiberge's office.
However, as he knew him to be Manon's brother, I doubted whether he
would take charge of this commission.  My plan was to enclose my letter
to Lescaut in another to some respectable man of my acquaintance,
begging of him to transmit the first to its address without delay; and
as it was necessary that I should have personal communication with
Lescaut, in order to arrange our proceedings, I told him to call on me
at St. Lazare, and assume the name of my eldest brother, as if he had
come to Paris expressly to see me.  I postponed till our meeting all
mention of the safest and most expeditious course I intended to suggest
for our future conduct.  The governor informed Tiberge of my wish to
see him.  This ever-faithful friend had not so entirely lost sight of
me as to be ignorant of my present abode, and it is probable that, in
his heart, he did not regret the circumstance, from an idea that it
might furnish the means of my moral regeneration.  He lost no time in
paying me the desired visit."



VI


It is a strange thing to note the excess of this passion; and how it
braves the nature and value of things, by this--that the speaking in a
perpetual hyperbole is comely in nothing but in love.--BACON.


"My interview with Tiberge was of the most friendly description. I saw
that his object was to discover the present temper of my mind.  I
opened my heart to him without any reserve, except as to the mere point
of my intention of escaping.  'It is not from such a friend as you,'
said I, 'that I can ever wish to dissemble my real feelings.  If you
flattered yourself with a hope that you were at last about to find me
grown prudent and regular in my conduct, a libertine reclaimed by the
chastisements of fortune, released alike from the trammels of love, and
the dominion that Manon wields over me, I must in candour say, that you
deceive yourself.  You still behold me, as you left me four months ago,
the slave--if you will, the unhappy slave--of a passion, from which I
now hope, as fervently and as confidently as I ever did, to derive
eventually solid comfort.'

"He answered, that such an acknowledgment rendered me utterly
inexcusable; that it was no uncommon case to meet sinners who allowed
themselves to be so dazzled with the glare of vice as to prefer it
openly to the true splendour of virtue; they were at least deluded by
the false image of happiness, the poor dupes of an empty shadow; but to
know and feel as I did, that the object of my attachment was only
calculated to render me culpable and unhappy, and to continue thus
voluntarily in a career of misery and crime, involved a contradiction
of ideas and of conduct little creditable to my reason.

"'Tiberge,' replied I, 'it is easy to triumph when your arguments are
unopposed.  Allow me to reason for a few moments in my turn.  Can you
pretend that what you call the happiness of virtue is exempt from
troubles, and crosses, and cares?  By what name will you designate the
dungeon, the rack, the inflections and tortures of tyrants?  Will you
say with the Mystics[1] that the soul derives pleasure from the
torments of the body?  You are not bold enough to hold such a
doctrine--a paradox not to be maintained.  This happiness, then, that
you prize so much, has a thousand drawbacks, or is, more properly
speaking, but a tissue of sufferings through which one hopes to attain
felicity.  If by the power of imagination one can even derive pleasure
from these sufferings, hoping that they may lead to a happy end, why,
let me ask, do you deem my conduct senseless, when it is directed by
precisely the same principle?  I love Manon: I wade through sorrow and
suffering in order to attain happiness with her.  My path is one indeed
of difficulties, but the mere hope of reaching the desired goal makes
it easy and delightful; and I shall think myself but too bountifully
repaid by one moment of her society, for all the troubles I encounter
in my course.  There appears therefore no difference between us, or, if
there be any, it is assuredly in my favour; for the bliss I hope for is
near and tangible, yours is far distant, and purely speculative.  Mine
is of the same kind as my sufferings, that is to say, evident to my
senses; yours is of an incomprehensible nature, and only discernible
through the dim medium of faith.'

"Tiberge appeared shocked by my remarks.  He retired two or three paces
from me, while he said, in the most serious tone, that my argument was
not only a violation of good sense, but that it was the miserable
sophistry of irreligion; 'for the comparison,' he added, 'of the
pitiful reward of your sufferings with that held out to us by the
divine revelation, is the essence of impiety and absurdity combined.'

"'I acknowledge,' said I, 'that the comparison is not a just one, but
my argument does not at all depend upon it.  I was about to explain
what you consider a contradiction--the persevering in a painful
pursuit; and I think I have satisfactorily proved, that if there be any
contradiction in that, we shall be both equally obnoxious to the
charge.  It was in this light, only, that I could observe no difference
in our cases, and I cannot as yet perceive any.

"'You may probably answer, that the proposed end, the promised reward,
of virtue, is infinitely superior to that of love?  No one disputes it,
but that is not the question--we are only discussing the relative aid
they both afford in the endurance of affliction.  Judge of that by the
practical effect: are there not multitudes who abandon a life of strict
virtue? how few give up the pursuits of love!

"'Again, you will reply that if there be difficulties in the exercise
of virtue, they are by no means universal and sure; that the good man
does not necessarily meet tyrants and tortures, and that, on the
contrary, a life of virtue is perfectly compatible with repose and
enjoyment.  I can say with equal truth, that love is often accompanied
by content and happiness; and what makes another distinction of
infinite advantage to my argument, I may add that love, though it often
deludes, never holds out other than hopes of bliss and joy, whilst
religion exacts from her votaries mortification and sorrow.

"'Do not be alarmed,' said I, perceiving that I had almost offended his
zealous feelings of devotion.  'I only wish to say, that there is no
more unsuccessful method of weaning man's heart from love, than by
endeavouring to decry its enjoyments, and by promising him more
pleasure from the exercise of virtue.  It is an inherent principle in
our nature, that our felicity consists only in pleasure.  I defy you to
conceive any other notion of it; and it requires little time to arrive
at the conviction, that, of all pleasures, those of love are
immeasurably the most enchanting.  A man quickly discerns the delusion,
when he hears the promise made of livelier enjoyment, and the effect of
such misrepresentation is only to make him doubt the truth of a more
solid promise.

"'Let the preacher who seeks the reformation of a sinner tell me that
virtue is indispensably necessary, but not disguise its difficulty and
its attendant denials.  Say that the enjoyments of love are fleeting,
if you will, that they are rigidly forbidden, that they lead with
certainty to eternal suffering; and, what would assuredly make a deeper
impression upon me than any other argument, say that the more sweet and
delectable they are, the brighter will be the reward of Heaven for
giving them up in sacrifice; but do in the name of justice admit, that,
constituted as the heart of man is, they form here, on earth, our most
perfect happiness.'

"My last sentence restored to Tiberge his good humour.  He allowed that
my ideas were not altogether so unreasonable.  The only point he made,
was in asking me why I did not carry my own principle into operation,
by sacrificing my passion to the hope of that remuneration of which I
had drawn so brilliant a picture. 'Oh! my dear friend,' replied I;
'that it is which makes me conscious of my own misery and weakness:
true, alas! it is indeed my duty to act according to my argument; but
have I the power of governing my own actions?  What aid will enable me
to forget Manon's charms?'  'God forgive me,' said Tiberge, 'I can
almost fancy you a Jansenist[2].  'I know not of what sect I am,'
replied I, 'nor do I indeed very clearly see to which I ought to
belong; but I cannot help feeling the truth of this at least of their
tenets.'

"One effect of our conversation was to revive my friend's pity for me
in all its force.  He perceived that there was in my errors more of
weakness than of vice; and he was the more disposed in the end to give
me assistance; without which I should infallibly have perished from
distress of mind.  However, I carefully concealed from him my intention
of escaping from St. Lazare.  I merely begged of him to take charge of
my letter; I had it ready before he came, and I soon found an excuse
for the necessity of writing.  He faithfully transmitted it, and
Lescaut received before evening the one I had enclosed for him.

"He came to see me next morning, and fortunately was admitted under my
brother's name.  I was overjoyed at finding him in my room.  I
carefully closed the door.  'Let us lose no time,' I said.  'First tell
me about Manon, and then advise me how I am to shake off these
fetters.'  He assured me that he had not seen his sister since the day
before my arrest, and that it was only by repeated enquiries, and after
much trouble, that he had at length been able to discover her fate as
well as mine; and that he had two or three times presented himself at
the Magdalen, and been refused admittance.  'Wretch!' muttered I to
myself, 'dearly shall G---- M---- pay for this!'

"'As to your escape,' continued Lescaut, 'it will not be so easy as you
imagine.  Last evening, I and a couple of friends walked round this
establishment to reconnoitre it; and we agreed that, as your windows
looked into a court surrounded by buildings, as you yourself mentioned
in your letter, there would be vast difficulty in getting you out.
Besides, you are on the third story, and it would be impossible to
introduce ropes or ladders through the window.  I therefore see no
means from without--in the house itself we must hit upon some scheme.'

"'No,' replied I; 'I have examined everything minutely, particularly
since, through the governor's indulgence, my confinement has been less
rigorous.  I am no longer locked into my room; I have liberty to walk
in the gallery; but there is, upon every landing, a strong door kept
closed night and day, so that it is impossible that ingenuity alone,
unaided by some violent efforts, can rescue me.

"'Wait,' said I, after turning in my mind for a moment an idea that
struck me as excellent; 'could you bring me a pistol?' 'Softly,' said
Lescaut to me, 'you don't think of committing murder?'  I assured him
that I had so little intention of shooting anyone, that it would not be
even necessary to have the pistol loaded.  'Bring it to me tomorrow,' I
added, 'and do not fail to be exactly opposite the great entrance with
two or three of your friends at eleven tomorrow night; I think I shall
be able to join you there.'  He in vain requested me to explain my
plan. I told him that such an attempt as I contemplated could only
appear rational after it had succeeded.  I begged of him to shorten his
visit, in order that he might with the less difficulty be admitted next
morning.  He was accordingly admitted as readily as on his first visit.
He had put on so serious an air, moreover, that a stranger would have
taken him for a respectable person.

"When I found in my hand the instrument of my liberty, I no longer
doubted my success.  It was certainly a strange and a bold project; but
of what was I not capable, with the motives that inspired me?  I had,
since I was allowed permission to walk in the galleries, found
opportunities of observing that every night the porter brought the keys
of all the doors to the governor, and subsequently there always reigned
a profound silence in the house, which showed that the inmates had
retired to rest.  There was an open communication between my room and
that of the Superior.  My resolution was, if he refused quietly to
surrender the keys, to force him, by fear of the pistol, to deliver
them up, and then by their help to gain the street.  I impatiently
awaited the moment for executing my purpose.  The porter arrived at his
usual time, that is to say, soon after nine o'clock.  I allowed an hour
to elapse, in order that the priests as well as the servants might be
all asleep.  I at length proceeded with my pistol and a lighted candle.
I first gave a gentle tap at the governor's door to awaken without
alarming him.  I knocked a second time before he heard me; and
supposing of course that it was one of the priests who was taken ill
and wanted assistance, he got out of bed, dressed himself, and came to
the door.  He had, however, the precaution to ask first who it was, and
what was wanted?  I was obliged to mention my name, but I assumed a
plaintive tone, to make him believe that I was indisposed.  'Ah! it is
you, my dear boy,' said he on opening the door; 'what can bring you
here at this hour?'  I stepped inside the door, and leading him to the
opposite side of the room, I declared to him that it was absolutely
impossible for me to remain longer at St. Lazare; that the night was
the most favourable time for going out unobserved, and that I
confidently expected, from his tried friendship, that he would consent
to open the gates for me, or entrust me with the keys to let myself out.

"This compliment to his friendship seemed to surprise him.  He stood
for a few moments looking at me without making any reply. Finding that
I had no time to lose, I just begged to assure him that I had the most
lively sense of all his kindnesses, but that freedom was dearer to man
than every other consideration, especially so to me, who had been
cruelly and unjustly deprived of it; that I was resolved this night to
recover it, cost what it would, and fearing lest he might raise his
voice and call for assistance, I let him see the powerful incentive to
silence which I had kept concealed in my bosom.  'A pistol!' cried he.
'What! my son? will you take away my life in return for the attentions
I have shown you?'  'God forbid,' replied I; 'you are too reasonable to
drive me to that horrible extremity: but I am determined to be free,
and so firmly determined, that if you defeat my project, I will put an
end to your existence.'  'But, my dear son!' said he, pale and
frightened, 'what have I done to you?  What reason have you for taking
my life?'  'No!' replied I, impatiently, 'I have no design upon your
life, if you, yourself, wish to live; open but the doors for me, and
you will find me the most attached of friends.'  I perceived the keys
upon the table. I requested he would take them in his hand and walk
before me, making as little noise as he possibly could.

"He saw the necessity of consenting.  We proceeded, and as he opened
each door, he repeated, always with a sigh, 'Ah! my son, who could have
believed it?'  'No noise, good Father, no noise,' I as often answered
in my turn.  At length we reached a kind of barrier, just inside the
great entrance.  I already fancied myself free, and kept close behind
the governor, with my candle in one hand, and my pistol in the other.

"While he was endeavouring to open the heavy gate, one of the servants,
who slept in an adjoining room, hearing the noise of the bolts, jumped
out of bed, and peeped forth to see what was passing.  The good Father
apparently thought him strong enough to overpower me.  He commanded
him, most imprudently, to come to his assistance.  He was a powerful
ruffian, and threw himself upon me without an instant's hesitation.
There was no time for parleying--I levelled my pistol and lodged the
contents in his breast!  'See, Father, of what mischief you have been
the cause,' said I to my guide; 'but that must not prevent us from
finishing our work,' I added, pushing him on towards the last door.  He
did not dare refuse to open it.  I made my exit in perfect safety, and,
a few paces off, found Lescaut with two friends waiting for me,
according to his promise.

"We removed at once to a distance.  Lescaut enquired whether he had not
heard the report of a pistol?  'You are to blame,' said I, 'why did you
bring it charged?'  I, however, could not help thanking him for having
taken this precaution, without which I doubtless must have continued
much longer at St. Lazare.  We went to pass the night at a tavern,
where I made up, in some degree, for the miserable fare which had been
doled out to me for nearly three months.  I was very far, however, from
tasting perfect enjoyment; Manon's sufferings were mine.  'She must be
released,' said I to my companions: 'this was my sole object in
desiring my own liberty.  I rely on your aiding me with all your
ingenuity; as for myself, my life shall be devoted to the purpose.'

"Lescaut, who was not deficient in tact, and still less in that better
part of valour called discretion, dwelt upon the necessity of acting
with extreme caution: he said that my escape from St. Lazare, and the
accident that happened on my leaving it, would assuredly create a
sensation; that the lieutenant-general of police would cause a strict
search to be made for me, and it would be difficult to evade him; in
fine, that, unless disposed to encounter something worse, perhaps, than
St. Lazare, it would be requisite for me to remain concealed for a few
days, in order to give the enemy's zeal time to cool.  No doubt this
was wise counsel; but, one should have been wise oneself to have
followed it.  Such calculating slowness little suited my passion.  The
utmost I could bring myself to promise was, that I would sleep through
the whole of the next day.  He locked me in my bedroom, where I
remained patiently until night.

"I employed great part of the time in devising schemes for relieving
Manon.  I felt persuaded that her prison was even more inaccessible
than mine had been.  Force was out of the question. Artifice was the
only resource; but the goddess of invention herself could not have told
me how to begin.  I felt the impossibility of working in the dark, and
therefore postponed the further consideration of my schemes until I
could acquire some knowledge of the internal arrangements of the
Hospital, in which she was confined.

"As soon as night restored to me my liberty, I begged of Lescaut to
accompany me.  We were not long in drawing one of the porters into
conversation; he appeared a reasonable man.  I passed for a stranger
who had often with admiration heard talk of the Hospital, and of the
order that reigned within it.  I enquired into the most minute details;
and, proceeding from one subject to another, we at length spoke of the
managers, and of these I begged to know the names and the respective
characters.  He gave me such information upon the latter point as at
once suggested an idea which flattered my hopes, and I immediately set
about carrying it into execution.

"I asked him (this being a matter essential to my plan) whether any of
the gentlemen had children.  He said he could not answer me with
certainty as to all, but as for M. de T----, one of the principal
directors, he knew that he had a son old enough to be married, and who
had come several times to the Hospital with his father.  This was
enough for my purpose.

"I immediately put an end to our interview, and, in returning, I told
Lescaut of the plan I had formed.  'I have taken it,' said I, 'into my
head, that M. de T----, the son, who is rich and of good family, must
have the same taste for pleasure that other young men of his age
generally have.  He could hardly be so bad a friend to the fair sex,
nor so absurd as to refuse his services in an affair of love.  I have
arranged a plan for interesting him in favour of Manon.  If he is a man
of feeling and of right mind, he will give us his assistance from
generosity.  If he is not to be touched by a motive of this kind, he
will at least do something for a handsome girl, if it were only with
the hope of hereafter sharing her favours.  I will not defer seeing
him,' added I, 'beyond tomorrow.  I really feel so elated by this
project, that I derive from it a good omen.'

"Lescaut himself allowed that the idea was not unreasonable, and that
we might fairly entertain a hope of turning it to account. I passed the
night less sorrowfully.

"Next morning I dressed as well as, in my present state of indigence, I
could possibly contrive to do; and went in a hackney coach to the
residence of M. de T----.  He was surprised at receiving a visit from a
perfect stranger.  I augured favourably from his countenance and the
civility of his manner.  I explained my object in the most candid way;
and, to excite his feelings as much as possible, I spoke of my ardent
passion and of Manon's merit, as of two things that were unequalled,
except by each other.  He told me, that although he had never seen
Manon, he had heard of her; at least, if the person I was talking of
was the same who had been the mistress of old G---- M----.  I
conjectured that he must have heard of the part I had acted in that
transaction, and in order to conciliate him more and more by treating
him with confidence, I told him everything that had occurred to Manon
and myself.  'You see, sir,' said I, 'that all that can interest me in
life, all that can command my affections, is in your hands.  I have no
reserve with you, because I have been informed of your generous and
noble character; and, being of the same age, I trust I shall find some
resemblance in our dispositions.'

"He seemed flattered by this mark of candour and confidence.  He
replied in a manner that became a man of the world, and a man of
feeling also, for they are not always synonymous terms.  He told me
that he appreciated my visit as a piece of good fortune; that he
considered my friendship as a valuable acquisition, and that he would
endeavour to prove himself worthy of it, by the sincerity of his
services.  He could not absolutely promise to restore Manon to my arms,
because, as he said, he himself had very little influence; but he
offered to procure me the pleasure of seeing her, and to do everything
in his power to effect her release.  I was the more satisfied with this
frank avowal as to his want of influence, than I should have been by an
unqualified promise of fulfilling all my wishes.  I found in his
moderation a pledge of his sincerity: in a word, I no longer doubted my
entire success.  The promise alone of enabling me to see Manon filled
me with gratitude, and I testified it in so earnest a manner, as to
give him a favourable opinion of my heart and disposition; we shook
hands warmly, and parted sworn friends, merely from mutual regard, and
that natural feeling which prompts a man of kind and generous
sentiments to esteem another of congenial mind.

"He, indeed, exceeded me in the proofs of his esteem; for, inferring
from my adventures, and especially my late escape from St. Lazare, that
I might be in want of money, he offered me his purse, and pressed me to
accept it.  I refused, but said to him, 'You are too kind, my dear sir!
If in addition to such proofs of kindness and friendship, you enable me
to see Manon again, rely on my eternal regard and gratitude.  If you
succeed in restoring altogether this dear creature to my arms, I should
think myself happy in spilling the last drop of my blood in your
service.'

"Before we parted, we agreed as to the time and place for our meeting.
He was so considerate as to appoint the afternoon of the same day.

"I waited for him at a cafe, where he joined me about four o'clock, and
we went together towards the Magdalen; my knees trembled under me as I
crossed the courts.  'Ye heavenly powers!' said I, 'then I shall once
more behold the idol of my heart--the dear object of so many sighs and
lamentations!  All I now ask of Providence is, to vouchsafe me strength
enough to reach her presence, and after that, to dispose as it pleaseth
of my future fate, and of my life itself.  Beyond this, I have no
prayer to utter.'

"M. de T---- spoke to some of the porters of the establishment, who
appeared all anxious to please him.  The quarter in which Manon's room
lay was pointed out to us, and our guide carried in his hand the key of
her chamber: it was of frightful size.  I asked the man who conducted
us, and whose duty it was to attend to Manon, how she passed her time?
He said, that she had a temper of the most angelic sweetness; that even
he, disagreeable as his official duties must render him, had never
heard from her a single syllable in the nature of rebuke or harshness;
that her tears had never ceased to flow during the first six weeks
after her arrival, but that latterly she seemed to bear her misfortunes
with more resignation, and that she employed herself from morning till
night with her needle, excepting some hours that she, each day, devoted
to reading.  I asked whether she had been decently provided for.  He
assured me that at least she had never felt the want of necessaries.

"We now approached her door.  My heart beat almost audibly in my bosom.
I said to M. de T----, 'Go in alone, and prepare her for my visit; I
fear that she may be overcome by seeing me unexpectedly.'  The door was
opened.  I remained in the passage, and listened to the conversation.
He said that he came to bring her consolation; that he was a friend of
mine, and felt deeply interested for the happiness of us both.  She
asked with the tenderest anxiety, whether he could tell her what had
become of me.  He promised that she should soon see me at her feet, as
affectionate and as faithful as ever.  'When?' she asked. 'This very
day,' said he; 'the happy moment shall not be long delayed; nay, this
very instant even, if you wish it.'  She at once understood that I was
at the door; as she was rushing towards it, I entered.  We embraced
each other with that abounding and impassioned tenderness, which an
absence of many months makes so delicious to those who truly love.  Our
sighs, our broken exclamations, the thousand endearing appellations of
love, exchanged in languishing rapture, astonished M. de T----, and
affected him even to tears.

"'I cannot help envying you,' said he, as he begged us to be seated;
'there is no lot, however glorious, that I would hold as comparable to
the possession of a mistress at once so tender and impassioned.'  'Nor
would I,' I replied, 'give up her love for universal empire!'

"The remainder of an interview which had been so long and so ardently
desired by me, was of course as tender as the commencement.  Poor Manon
related all her adventures, and I told her mine: we bitterly wept over
each other's story.  M. de T---- consoled us by his renewed promises to
exert himself in our service.  He advised us not to make this, our
first interview, of too long duration, that he might have the less
difficulty in procuring us the same enjoyment again.  He at length
induced us to follow his advice.  Manon especially could not reconcile
herself to the separation: she made me a hundred times resume my seat.
At one time she held me by my hands, at another by my coat.  'Alas!'
she said, 'in what an abode do you leave me!  Who will answer for my
ever seeing you again?'  M. de T---- promised her that he would often
come and see her with me.  'As to the abode,' he said, 'it must no
longer be called the Magdalen; it is Versailles! now that it contains a
person who deserves the empire of all hearts.'

"I made the man who attended a present as I went out, in order to
quicken his zeal and attentions.  This fellow had a mind less rough and
vulgar than the generality of his class.  He had witnessed our
interview, and was affected by it.  The interest he felt was doubtless
increased by the louis d'or I gave him.  He took me aside as we went
down into the courtyard.  'Sir,' said he, 'if you will only take me
into your service, or indemnify me in any way for the loss of the
situation which I fill here, I think I should not have much difficulty
in liberating the beauteous Manon.'

"I caught readily at the suggestion, and, although at the moment I was
almost in a state of destitution, I gave him promises far beyond his
desires.  I considered that it would be at all times easy to recompense
a man of his description.  'Be assured, my friend,' said I to him,
'that there is nothing I will not be ready to do for you, and that your
fortune is just as certain as my own.'  I enquired what means he
intended to employ.  'None other,' said he, 'than merely to open the
door of her cell for her at night, and to conduct her to the street
door, where you, of course, will be to receive her.'  I asked whether
there was no danger of her being recognised as she traversed the long
galleries and the courts.  He admitted that there was danger, but that
nothing could be done without some slight risk.

"Although I was delighted to find him so determined, I called M. de
T----, and informed him of the project, and of the only difficulty in
the way.  He thought it not so easy of execution. He allowed the
possibility of escaping thus:  'But if she be recognised,' continued
he, 'if she be stopped in the attempt, all hope will be over with her,
perhaps for ever.  Besides, you would be obliged to quit Paris
instantly, for you could never evade the search that would be made for
you: they would redouble their efforts as much on your own account as
hers.  A single man may easily escape detection, but in company with a
handsome woman, it would be utterly impossible to remain undiscovered.'

"However sound this reasoning, it could not, in my mind, outweigh the
immediate prospect of restoring Manon to liberty.  I said as much to M.
de T----, and trusted that he would excuse my imprudence and rashness,
on the ground of love.  I added that it was already my intention to
quit Paris for some neighbouring village, as I had once before done.
We then settled with the servant that he should carry his project into
execution the following day, and to render our success as certain as he
could, we resolved to carry into the prison men's clothes, in order to
facilitate her escape."

"There was a difficulty to be surmounted in carrying them in, but I had
ingenuity enough to meet it.  I begged of M. de T---- only to put on
two light waistcoats the next morning, and I undertook to arrange the
rest.

"We returned the following day to the Hospital.  I took with me linen,
stockings, etc., for Manon, and over my body-coat a surtout, which
concealed the bulk I carried in my pockets.  We remained but a moment
in her room.  M. de T---- left her one of his waistcoats; I gave her my
short coat, the surtout being sufficient for me.  She found nothing
wanting for her complete equipment but a pair of pantaloons, which in
my hurry I had forgotten.

"The want of so necessary an article might have amused us, if the
embarrassment it caused had been of a less serious kind.  I was in
despair at having our whole scheme foiled by a trifling omission of
this nature.  However, I soon hit on a remedy, and determined to make
my own exit sans-culotte, leaving that portion of my dress with Manon.
My surtout was long, and I contrived by the help of a few pins to put
myself in a decent condition for passing the gate.

"The remainder of the day appeared to me of endless length. When at
last night came, we went in a coach to within a few yards of the
Hospital.  We were not long waiting, when we saw Manon make her
appearance with her guide.  The door of the coach being opened, they
both stepped in without delay.  I opened my arms to receive my adored
mistress; she trembled like an aspen leaf.  The coachman asked where he
was to drive?  'To the end of the world!' I exclaimed; 'to some place
where I can never again be separated from Manon.'

"This burst, which I could not control, was near bringing me into fresh
trouble.  The coachman reflected upon what I said, and when I
afterwards told him the name of the street to which I wished him to
drive, he answered that he feared I was about to implicate him in some
bad business; that he saw plainly enough that the good-looking young
man whom I called Manon was a girl eloping from the Hospital, and that
he was little disposed indeed to ruin himself for love of me.

"Extortion was the source of this scoundrel's delicacy.  We were still
too near the Hospital to make any noise.  'Silence!' said I to him,
'you shall have a louis d'or for the job': for less than that he would
have helped me to burn the Hospital.

"We arrived at Lescaut's house.  As it was late, M. de T---- left us on
the way, promising to visit us the next morning.  The servant alone
remained.

"I held Manon in such close embrace in my arms, that we occupied but
one place in the coach.  She cried for joy, and I could feel her tears
trickling down my cheeks.

"When we were about getting out at Lescaut's, I had a new difficulty
with the coachman, which was attended with the most unfortunate
results.  I repented of having promised the fellow a louis d'or, not
only because it was extravagant folly, but for another stronger reason,
that it was at the moment out of my power to pay him.  I called for
Lescaut, and he came down to the door.  I whispered to him the cause of
my present embarrassment. Being naturally rough, and not at all in the
habit of treating hackney-coachmen with respect, he answered that I
could not be serious.  'A louis!' said he; 'twenty blows of a cane
would be the right payment for that rascal!'  I entreated him not to
destroy us; when he snatched my cane from my hand, and was about to lay
it on the coachman.  The fellow had probably before experienced the
weight of a guardsman's arm, and instantly drove off, crying out, that
I had cheated him, and should hear of him again.  I in vain endeavoured
to stop him.

"His flight caused me, of course, the greatest alarm.  I had no doubt
that he would immediately give information to the police. 'You have
ruined me,' said I to Lescaut; 'I shall be no longer safe at your
house; we must go hence at once.'  I gave Manon my arm, and as quickly
as possible got out of the dangerous neighbourhood.  Lescaut
accompanied us."

The Chevalier des Grieux having occupied more than an hour with his
story, I begged him to give himself a little rest, and meanwhile to
share our supper.  He saw, by the attention we paid him, that we were
amused, and promised that we should hear something of perhaps greater
interest in the sequel.  When we had finished supper, he continued in
the following words.


[1] A favourite tenet of the Mystics, advocated by Madame de Guyon, and
adopted by the amiable and eloquent Fenelon, was, that the love of the
Supreme Being must be pure and disinterested; that is, exempt from all
views of interest, and all hope of reward.  See the controversy between
Bossuet and Fenelon.

[2] The first proposition of the Jansenists was, that there are divine
precepts which good men, notwithstanding their desire to observe them,
are nevertheless absolutely unable to obey: God not having given them
such a measure of grace as is essentially necessary to render them
capable of obedience.--Mosheim's Eccles. Hist., ii. 397.



VII


  . . . How chances mock,
  And changes fill the cup of alteration
  With divers liquors.
        SHAKESPEARE.


"How inscrutably does Providence connect events!  We had hardly
proceeded for five minutes on our way, when a man, whose face I could
not see, recognised Lescaut.  He had no doubt been watching for him
near his home, with the horrible intention which he now unhappily
executed.  'It IS Lescaut!' said he, snapping a pistol at his head; 'he
shall sup tonight with the angels!'  He then instantly disappeared.
Lescaut fell, without the least sign of life.  I pressed Manon to fly,
for we could be of no use to a dead man, and I feared being arrested by
the police, who would certainly be soon upon the spot.  I turned down
the first narrow street with her and the servant: she was so
overpowered by the scene she had just witnessed, that I could hardly
support her. At last, at the end of the street, I perceived a
hackney-coach; we got into it, but when the coachman asked whither he
should drive, I was scarcely able to answer him.  I had no certain
asylum--no confidential friend to whom I could have recourse.  I was
almost destitute of money, having but one dollar left in my purse.
Fright and fatigue had so unnerved Manon, that she was almost fainting
at my side.  My imagination too was full of the murder of Lescaut, and
I was not without strong apprehensions of the patrol.  What was to be
done?  I luckily remembered the inn at Chaillot, where we first went to
reside in that village.  I hoped to be not only secure, but to continue
there for some time without being pressed for payment.  'Take us to
Chaillot,' said I to the coachman.  He refused to drive us so far at
that late hour for less than twelve francs.  A new embarrassment!  At
last we agreed for half that sum--all that my purse contained.

"I tried to console Manon as we went along, but despair was rankling in
my own heart.  I should have destroyed myself a thousand times over, if
I had not felt that I held in my arms all that could attach me to life:
this reflection reconciled me.  'I possess her at least,' said I; 'she
loves me! she is mine! Vainly does Tiberge call this a mere phantom of
happiness.'  I could, without feeling interest or emotion, see the
whole world besides perish around me.  Why?  Because I have in it no
object of affection beyond her.

"This sentiment was true; however, while I so lightly esteemed the good
things of the world, I felt that there was no doing without some little
portion of them, were it only to inspire a more thorough contempt for
the remainder.  Love is more powerful than wealth--more attractive than
grandeur or fame; but, alas! it cannot exist without certain artificial
aids; and there is nothing more humiliating to the feelings, of a
sensitive lover, than to find himself, by want of means, reduced to the
level of the most vulgar minds.

"It was eleven o'clock when we arrived at Chaillot.  They received us
at the inn as old acquaintances, and expressed no sort of surprise at
seeing Manon in male attire, for it was the custom in Paris and the
environs to adopt all disguises.  I took care to have her served with
as much attention as if I had been in prosperous circumstances.  She
was ignorant of my poverty, and I carefully kept her so, being resolved
to return alone the following day to Paris, to seek some cure for this
vexatious kind of malady.

"At supper she appeared pale and thin; I had not observed this at the
Hospital, as the room in which I saw her was badly lighted.  I asked
her if the excessive paleness were not caused by the shock of
witnessing her brother's death?  She assured me that, horrified as she
naturally was at the event, her paleness was purely the effect of a
three months' absence from me.  'You do love me then devotedly?' I
exclaimed.

"'A thousand times more than I can tell!' was her reply.

"'You will never leave me again?' I added.

"'No! never, never!' answered she.

"This assurance was confirmed by so many caresses and vows, that it
appeared impossible she could, to the end of time, forget them.  I have
never doubted that she was at that moment sincere. What motive could
she have had for dissembling to such a degree? But she became
afterwards still more volatile than ever, or rather she was no longer
anything, and entirely forgot herself, when, in poverty and want, she
saw other women living in abundance.  I was now on the point of
receiving a new proof of her inconstancy, which threw all that had
passed into the shade, and which led to the strangest adventure that
ever happened to a man of my birth and prospects.

"As I knew her disposition, I hastened the next day to Paris. The death
of her brother, and the necessity of getting linen and clothes for her,
were such good reasons, that I had no occasion for any further pretext.
I left the inn, with the intention, as I told Manon and the landlord,
of going in a hired carriage, but this was a mere flourish; necessity
obliged me to travel on foot: I walked very fast as far as
Cours-la-Reine, where I intended to rest.  A moment of solitude and
tranquillity was requisite to compose myself, and to consider what was
to be done in Paris.

"I sat down upon the grass.  I plunged into a sea of thoughts and
considerations, which at length resolved themselves into three
principal heads.  I had pressing want of an infinite number of absolute
necessaries; I had to seek some mode of at least raising a hope for the
future; and, though last, not least in importance, I had to gain
information, and adopt measures, to secure Manon's safety and my own.
After having exhausted myself in devising projects upon these three
chief points, I was obliged to put out of view for the moment the two
last.  We were not ill sheltered from observation in the inn at
Chaillot; and as to future wants, I thought it would be time enough to
think about them when those of the moment were satisfied.

"The main object now was to replenish my purse.  M. de T---- had once
offered me his, but I had an extreme repugnance to mention the subject
to him again.  What a degradation to expose one's misery to a stranger,
and to ask for charity: it must be either a man of low mind who would
thus demean himself, and that from a baseness which must render him
insensible to the degradation, or a humble Christian, from a
consciousness of generosity in himself, which must put him above the
sense of shame.  I would have sacrificed half my life to be spared the
humiliation.

"'Tiberge,' said I, 'kind Tiberge, will he refuse me what he has it in
his power to grant?  No, he will assuredly sympathise in my misery; but
he will also torture me with his lectures!  One must endure his
reproaches, his exhortations, his threats: I shall have to purchase his
assistance so dearly, that I would rather make any sacrifice than
encounter this distressing scene, which cannot fail to leave me full of
sorrow and remorse.  Well,' thought I again, 'all hope must be
relinquished, since no other course presents itself: so far am I from
adopting either of these, that I would sooner shed half my blood than
face one of these evils, or the last drop rather than encounter both.
Yes, the very last drop,' I repeated after a moment's reflection, 'I
would sacrifice willingly rather than submit to such base supplication!

"'But it is not in reality a question of my existence!  Manon's life
and maintenance, her love and her fidelity, are at stake! What
consideration can outweigh that?  In her are centred all my glory,
happiness, and future fortune!  There are doubtless many things that I
would gladly give up my life to obtain, or to avoid; but to estimate a
thing merely beyond the value of my own life, is not putting it on a
par with that of Manon.'  This idea soon decided me: I went on my way,
resolved to go first to Tiberge, and afterwards to M. de T----.

"On entering Paris I took a hackney-coach, though I had not wherewithal
to pay for it; I calculated on the loan I was going to solicit.  I
drove to the Luxembourg, whence I sent word to Tiberge that I was
waiting for him.  I had not to stay many minutes.  I told him without
hesitation the extremity of my wants.  He asked if the fifty pounds
which I had returned to him would suffice, and he at once went to fetch
it with that generous air, that pleasure in bestowing which 'blesseth
him that gives, and him that takes,' and which can only be known to
love or to true friendship.

"Although I had never entertained a doubt of Tiberge's readiness to
grant my request, yet I was surprised at having obtained it on such
easy terms, that is to say, without a word of reprimand for my
impenitence; but I was premature in fancying myself safe from his
reproaches, for when he had counted out the money, and I was on the
point of going away, he begged of me to take a walk with him in the
garden.  I had not mentioned Manon's name; he knew nothing of her
escape; so that his lecture was merely upon my own rash flight from St.
Lazare, and upon his apprehensions lest, instead of profiting by the
lessons of morality which I had received there, I should again relapse
into dissipation.

"He told me, that having gone to pay me a visit at St. Lazare, the day
after my escape, he had been astonished beyond expression at hearing
the mode in which I had effected it; that he had afterwards a
conversation with the Superior; that the good Father had not quite
recovered the shock; that he had, however, the generosity to conceal
the real circumstances from the lieutenant-general of police, and that
he had prevented the death of the porter from becoming known outside
the walls; that I had, therefore, upon that score, no ground for alarm,
but that, if I retained one grain of prudence, I should profit by this
happy turn which Providence had given to my affairs, and begin by
writing to my father, and reconciling myself to his favour; and finally
that, if I would be guided by his advice, I should at once quit Paris,
and return to the bosom of my family.

"I listened to him attentively till he had finished.  There was much in
what he said to gratify me.  In the first place, I was delighted to
learn that I had nothing to fear on account of St. Lazare--the streets
of Paris at least were again open to me. Then I rejoiced to find that
Tiberge had no suspicion of Manon's escape, and her return to my arms.
I even remarked that he had not mentioned her name, probably from the
idea that, by my seeming indifference to her, she had become less dear
to my heart.  I resolved, if not to return home, at least to write to
my father, as he advised me, and to assure him that I was disposed to
return to my duty, and consult his wishes.  My intention was to urge
him to send me money for the purpose of pursuing my ordinary studies at
the University, for I should have found it difficult to persuade him
that I had any inclination to resume my ecclesiastical habit.  I was in
truth not at all averse to what I was now going to promise him.  On the
contrary, I was ready to apply myself to some creditable and rational
pursuit, so far as the occupation would be compatible with my love.  I
reckoned upon being able to live with my mistress, and at the same time
continuing my studies.  I saw no inconsistency in this plan.

"These thoughts were so satisfactory to my mind, that I promised
Tiberge to dispatch a letter by that day's post to my father: in fact,
on leaving him, I went into a scrivener's, and wrote in such a
submissive and dutiful tone, that, on reading over my own letter, I
anticipated the triumph I was going to achieve over my father's heart.

"Although I had money enough to pay for a hackney-coach after my
interview with Tiberge, I felt a pleasure in walking independently
through the streets to M. de T----'s house.  There was great comfort in
this unaccustomed exercise of my liberty, as to which my friend had
assured me I had nothing now to apprehend. However, it suddenly
occurred to me, that he had been only referring to St. Lazare, and that
I had the other affair of the Hospital on my hands; being implicated,
if not as an accomplice, at all events as a witness.  This thought
alarmed me so much, that I slipped down the first narrow street, and
called a coach. I went at once to M. de T----'s, and he laughed at my
apprehensions.  I myself thought them ridiculous enough, when he
informed me that there was no more danger from Lescaut's affray, than
from the Hospital adventure.  He told me that, from the fear of their
suspecting that he had a hand in Manon's escape, he had gone that
morning to the Hospital and asked to see her, pretending not to know
anything of what had happened; that they were so far from entertaining
the least suspicion of either of us, that they lost no time in relating
the adventure as a piece of news to him; and that they wondered how so
pretty a girl as Manon Lescaut could have thought of eloping with a
servant: that he replied with seeming indifference, that it by no means
astonished him, for people would do anything for the sake of liberty.

"He continued to tell me how he then went to Lescaut's apartments, in
the hope of finding me there with my dear mistress; that the master of
the house, who was a coachmaker, protested he had seen neither me nor
Manon; but that it was no wonder that we had not appeared there, if our
object was to see Lescaut, for that we must have doubtless heard of his
having been assassinated about the very same time; upon which, he
related all that he knew of the cause and circumstances of the murder.

"About two hours previously, a guardsman of Lescaut's acquaintance had
come to see him, and proposed play.  Lescaut had such a rapid and
extravagant run of luck, that in an hour the young man was minus twelve
hundred francs--all the money he had. Finding himself without a sou, he
begged of Lescaut to lend him half the sum he had lost; and there being
some difficulty on this point, an angry quarrel arose between them.
Lescaut had refused to give him the required satisfaction, and the
other swore, on quitting him, that he would take his life; a threat
which he carried into execution the same night.  M. de T---- was kind
enough to add, that he had felt the utmost anxiety on our account, and
that, such as they were, he should gladly continue to us his services.
I at once told him the place of our retreat. He begged of me to allow
him to sup with us.

"As I had nothing more to do than to procure the linen and clothes for
Manon, I told him that we might start almost immediately, if he would
be so good as to wait for me a moment while I went into one or two
shops.  I know not whether he suspected that I made this proposition
with the view of calling his generosity into play, or whether it was by
the mere impulse of a kind heart; but, having consented to start
immediately, he took me to a shopkeeper, who had lately furnished his
house.  He there made me select several articles of a much higher price
than I had proposed to myself; and when I was about paying the bill, he
desired the man not to take a sou from me.  This he did so gracefully,
that I felt no shame in accepting his present.  We then took the road
to Chaillot together, where I arrived much more easy in mind than when
I had left it that morning.

"My return and the polite attentions of M. de T---- dispelled all
Manon's melancholy.  'Let us forget our past annoyances, my dear soul,'
said I to her, 'and endeavour to live a still happier life than before.
After all, there are worse masters than love: fate cannot subject us to
as much sorrow as love enables us to taste of happiness.'  Our supper
was a true scene of joy.

"In possession of Manon and of twelve hundred and fifty francs, I was
prouder and more contented than the richest voluptuary of Paris with
untold treasures.  Wealth should be measured by the means it affords us
of satisfying our desires.  There did not remain to me at this moment a
single wish unaccomplished.  Even the future gave me little concern.  I
felt a hope, amounting almost to certainty, that my father would allow
me the means of living respectably in Paris, because I had become
entitled, on entering upon my twentieth year, to a share of my mother's
fortune.  I did not conceal from Manon what was the extent of my
present wealth; but I added, that it might suffice to support us until
our fortune was bettered, either by the inheritance I have just alluded
to, or by the resources of the hazard-table."



VIII


This Passion hath its floods in the very times of weakness, which are
great prosperity, and great adversity; both which times kindle Love,
and make it more fervent.--BACON.


"For several weeks I thus continued to think only of enjoying the full
luxury of my situation; and being restrained, by a sense of honour, as
well as a lurking apprehension of the police, from renewing my intimacy
with my former companions at the hotel of Transylvania, I began to play
in certain coteries less notorious, where my good luck rendered it
unnecessary for me to have recourse to my former accomplishments.  I
passed a part of the afternoon in town, and returned always to supper
at Chaillot, accompanied very often by M. de T----, whose intimacy and
friendship for us daily increased.

"Manon soon found resources against ennui.  She became acquainted with
some young ladies, whom the spring brought into the neighbourhood.
They occupied their leisure hours in walking, and the customary
amusements of persons of their sex and age. Their little gains at cards
(always within innocent limits) were laid out in defraying the expense
of a coach, in which they took an airing occasionally in the Bois de
Boulogne; and each night when I returned, I was sure of finding Manon
more beautiful--more contented--more affectionate than ever.

"There arose, however, certain clouds, which seemed to threaten the
continuance of this blissful tranquillity, but they were soon
dispelled; and Manon's sprightliness made the affair so excessively
comical in its termination, that it is even now pleasing to recur to
it, as a proof of the tenderness as well as the cheerfulness of her
disposition.

"The only servant we had came to me one day, with great embarrassment,
and taking me aside, told me that he had a secret of the utmost
importance to communicate to me.  I urged him to explain himself
without reserve.  After some hesitation, he gave me to understand that
a foreigner of high rank had apparently fallen in love with Manon.  I
felt my blood boil at the announcement.  'Has she shown any penchant
for him?'  I enquired, interrupting my informant with more impatience
than was requisite, if I desired to have a full explanation.

"He was alarmed at my excitement; and replied in an undecided tone,
that he had not made sufficiently minute observation to satisfy me; but
that, having noticed for several days together the regular arrival of
the stranger at the Bois de Boulogne, where, quitting his carriage, he
walked by himself in the cross-avenues, appearing to seek opportunities
of meeting Manon, it had occurred to him to form an acquaintance with
the servants, in order to discover the name of their master; that they
spoke of him as an Italian prince, and that they also suspected he was
upon some adventure of gallantry.  He had not been able to learn
anything further, he added, trembling as he spoke, because the prince,
then on the point of leaving the wood, had approached him, and with the
most condescending familiarity asked his name; upon which, as if he at
once knew that he was in our service, he congratulated him on having,
for his mistress, the most enchanting person upon earth.

"I listened to this recital with the greatest impatience.  He ended
with the most awkward excuses, which I attributed to the premature and
imprudent display of my own agitation.  In vain I implored him to
continue his history.  He protested that he knew nothing more, and that
what he had previously told me, having only happened the preceding day,
he had not had a second opportunity of seeing the prince's servants.  I
encouraged him, not only with praises, but with a substantial
recompense; and without betraying the slightest distrust of Manon, I
requested him, in the mildest manner, to keep strict watch upon all the
foreigner's movements.

"In truth, the effect of his fright was to leave me in a state of the
cruellest suspense.  It was possible that she had ordered him to
suppress part of the truth.  However, after a little reflection, I
recovered sufficiently from my fears to see the manner in which I had
exposed my weaknesses.  I could hardly consider it a crime in Manon to
be loved.  Judging from appearances, it was probable that she was not
even aware of her conquest.  'And what kind of life shall I in future
lead,' thought I, 'if I am capable of letting jealousy so easily take
possession of my mind?'

"I returned on the following day to Paris, with no other intention than
to hasten the improvement of my fortune, by playing deeper than ever,
in order to be in a condition to quit Chaillot on the first real
occasion for uneasiness.  That night I learned nothing at all
calculated to trouble my repose.  The foreigner had, as usual, made his
appearance in the Bois de Boulogne; and venturing, from what had passed
the preceding day, to accost my servant more familiarly, he spoke to
him openly of his passion, but in such terms as not to lead to the
slightest suspicion of Manon's being aware of it.  He put a thousand
questions to him, and at last tried to bribe him with large promises;
and taking a letter from his pocket, he in vain entreated him, with the
promise of some louis d'ors, to convey it to her.

"Two days passed without anything more occurring: the third was of a
different character.  I learned on my arrival, later than usual, from
Paris, that Manon, while in the wood, had left her companions for a
moment, and that the foreigner, who had followed her at a short
distance, approached, upon her making him a sign, and that she handed
him a letter, which he took with a transport of joy.  He had only time
to express his delight by kissing the billet-doux, for she was out of
sight in an instant.  But she appeared in unusually high spirits the
remainder of the day; and even after her return to our lodgings, her
gaiety continued.  I trembled at every word.

"'Are you perfectly sure,' said I, in an agony of fear, to my servant,
'that your eyes have not deceived you?'  He called Heaven to witness
the truth of what he had told me.

"I know not to what excess the torments of my mind would have driven
me, if Manon, who heard me come in, had not met me with an air of
impatience, and complained of my delay.  Before I had time to reply,
she loaded me with caresses; and when she found we were alone, she
reproached me warmly with the habit I was contracting of staying out so
late.  My silence gave her an opportunity of continuing; and she then
said that for the last three weeks I had never spent one entire day in
her society; that she could not endure such prolonged absence; that she
should at least expect me to give up a day to her from time to time,
and that she particularly wished me to be with her on the following day
from morning till night.

"'You may be very certain I shall do that,' said I, in rather a sharp
tone.  She did not appear to notice my annoyance; she seemed to me to
have more than her usual cheerfulness; and she described, with infinite
pleasantry, the manner in which she had spent the day.

"'Incomprehensible girl!" said I to myself; 'what am I to expect after
such a prelude?' The adventures of my first separation occurred to me;
nevertheless, I fancied I saw in her cheerfulness, and the affectionate
reception she gave me, an air of truth that perfectly accorded with her
professions.

"It was an easy matter at supper to account for the low spirits which I
could not conceal, by attributing them to a loss I had that day
sustained at the gaming-table.  I considered it most fortunate that the
idea of my remaining all the next day at Chaillot was suggested by
herself: I should thus have ample time for deliberation.  My presence
would prevent any fears for at least the next day; and if nothing
should occur to compel me to disclose the discovery I had already made,
I was determined on the following day to move my establishment into
town, and fix myself in a quarter where I should have nothing to
apprehend from the interference of princes.  This arrangement made me
pass the night more tranquilly, but it by no means put an end to the
alarm I felt at the prospect of a new infidelity.

"When I awoke in the morning, Manon said to me, that although we were
to pass the day at home, she did not at all wish that I should be less
carefully dressed than on other occasions; and that she had a
particular fancy for doing the duties of my toilette that morning with
her own hands.  It was an amusement she often indulged in: but she
appeared to take more pains on this occasion than I had ever observed
before.  To gratify her, I was obliged to sit at her toilette table,
and try all the different modes she imagined for dressing my hair.  In
the course of the operation, she made me often turn my head round
towards her, and putting both hands upon my shoulders, she would
examine me with most anxious curiosity: then, showing her approbation
by one or two kisses, she would make me resume my position before the
glass, in order to continue her occupation.

"This amatory trifling engaged us till dinner-time.  The pleasure she
seemed to derive from it, and her more than usual gaiety, appeared to
me so thoroughly natural, that I found it impossible any longer to
suspect the treason I had previously conjured up; and I was several
times on the point of candidly opening my mind to her, and throwing off
a load that had begun to weigh heavily upon my heart: but I flattered
myself with the hope that the explanation would every moment come from
herself, and I anticipated the delicious triumph this would afford me.

"We returned to her boudoir.  She began again to put my hair in order,
and I humoured all her whims; when they came to say that the Prince of
---- was below, and wished to see her.  The name alone almost threw me
into a rage.

"'What then,' exclaimed I, as I indignantly pushed her from me,
'who?--what prince?'

"She made no answer to my enquiries.

"'Show him upstairs,' said she coolly to the servant; and then turning
towards me, 'Dearest love! you whom I so fervently adore,' she added in
the most bewitching tone, 'I only ask of you one moment's patience; one
moment, one single moment!  I will love you ten thousand times more
than ever: your compliance now shall never, during my life, be
forgotten.'

"Indignation and astonishment deprived me of the power of utterance.
She renewed her entreaties, and I could not find adequate expressions
to convey my feelings of anger and contempt. But hearing the door of
the ante-chamber open, she grasped with one hand my locks, which were
floating over my shoulders, while she took her toilette mirror in the
other, and with all her strength led me in this manner to the door of
the boudoir, which she opened with her knee, and presented to the
foreigner, who had been prevented by the noise he heard in

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