A Daughter of Eve

A Daughter of Eve

A DAUGHTER OF EVE HONORE DE BALZAC Translated By Katharine Prescott Wormeley DEDICATION To Madame la Comtesse Bolognini nee Vimercati. If you remember madame the pleasure your conversation gave to a traveller by recalling Paris to his memory in Milan you will not be surprised to find him testifying his gratitude for many pleasant evenings passed beside you by laying one of his works at your feet and begging you to protect it with your name as in former days that name protected the tales of an ancient writer dear to the Milanese. You have an Eugenie already beautiful whose intelligent smile gives promise that she has inherited from you the most precious gifts of womanhood and who will certainly enjoy during her childhood and youth all those happinesses which a rigid mother denied to the Eugenie of these pages. Though Frenchmen are taxed with inconstancy you will find me Italian in faithfulness and memory. While writing the name of "Eugenie" my thoughts have often led me back to that cool stuccoed salon and little garden in the Vicolo dei Cappucini which echoed to the laughter of that dear child to our sportive quarrels and our chatter. But you have left the Corso for the Tre Monasteri and I know not how you are placed there; consequently I am forced to think of you not among the charming things with which no doubt you have surrounded yourself but like one of those fine figures due to Raffaelle Titian Correggio Allori which seem abstractions so distant are they from our daily lives. If this book should wing its way across the Alps it will prove to you the lively gratitude and respectful friendship of Your devoted servant De Balzac. A DAUGHTER OF EVE CHAPTER I THE TWO MARIES In one of the finest houses of the rue Neuve-des-Mathurins at half- past eleven at night two young women were sitting before the fireplace of a boudoir hung with blue velvet of that tender shade with shimmering reflections which French industry has lately learned to fabricate. Over the doors and windows were draped soft folds of blue cashmere the tint of the hangings the work of one of those upholsterers who have just missed being artists. A silver lamp studded with turquoise and suspended by chains of beautiful workmanship hung from the centre of the ceiling. The same system of decoration was followed in the smallest details and even to the ceiling of fluted blue silk with long bands of white cashmere falling at equal distances on the hangings where they were caught back by ropes of pearl. A warm Belgian carpet thick as turf of a gray ground with blue posies covered the floor. The furniture of carved ebony after a fine model of the old school gave substance and richness to the rather too decorative quality as a painter might call it of the rest of the room. On either side of a large window two etageres displayed a hundred precious trifles flowers of mechanical art brought into bloom by the fire of thought. On a chimney-piece of slate-blue marble were figures in old Dresden shepherds in bridal garb with delicate bouquets in their hands German fantasticalities surrounding a platinum clock inlaid with arabesques. Above it sparkled the brilliant facets of a Venice mirror framed in ebony with figures carved in relief evidently obtained from some former royal residence. Two jardinieres were filled with the exotic product of a hot-house pale but divine flowers the treasures of botany. In this cold orderly boudoir where all things were in place as if for sale no sign existed of the gay and capricious disorder of a happy home. At the present moment the two young women were weeping. Pain seemed to predominate. The name of the owner Ferdinand du Tillet one of the richest bankers in Paris is enough to explain the luxury of the whole house of which this boudoir is but a sample. Though without either rank or station having pushed himself forward heaven knows how du Tillet had married in 1831 the daughter of the Comte de Granville one of the greatest names in the French magistracy--a man who became peer of France after the revolution of July. This marriage of ambition on du Tillet's part was brought about by his agreeing to sign an acknowledgment in the marriage contract of a dowry not received equal to that of her elder sister who was married to Comte Felix de Vandenesse. On the other hand the Granvilles obtained the alliance with de Vandenesse by the largeness of the "dot." Thus the bank repaired the breach made in the pocket of the magistracy by rank. Could the Comte de Vandenesse have seen himself three years later the brother-in-law of a Sieur Ferdinand DU Tillet so-called he might not have married his wife; but what man of rank in 1828 foresaw the strange upheavals which the year 1830 was destined to produce in the political condition the fortunes and the customs of France? Had any one predicted to Comte Felix de Vandenesse that his head would lose the coronet of a peer and that of his father-in-law acquire one he would have thought his informant a lunatic. Bending forward on one of those low chairs then called "chaffeuses" in the attitude of a listener Madame du Tillet was pressing to her bosom with maternal tenderness and occasionally kissing the hand of her sister Madame Felix de Vandenesse. Society added the baptismal name to the surname in order to distinguish the countess from her sister-in-law the Marquise Charles de Vandenesse wife of the former ambassador who had married the widow of the Comte de Kergarouet Mademoiselle Emilie de Fontaine. Half lying on a sofa her handkerchief in the other hand her breathing choked by repressed sobs and with tearful eyes the countess had been making confidences such as are made only from sister to sister when two sisters love each other; and these two sisters did love each other tenderly. We live in days when sisters married into such antagonist spheres can very well not love each other and therefore the historian is bound to relate the reasons of this tender affection preserved without spot or jar in spite of their husbands' contempt for each other and their own social disunion. A rapid glance at their childhood will explain the situation. Brought up in a gloomy house in the Marais by a woman of narrow mind a "devote" who being sustained by a sense of duty (sacred phrase!) had fulfilled her tasks as a mother religiously Marie-Angelique and Marie Eugenie de Granville reached the period of their marriage--the first at eighteen the second at twenty years of age--without ever leaving the domestic zone where the rigid maternal eye controlled them. Up to that time they had never been to a play; the churches of Paris were their theatre. Their education in their mother's house had been as rigorous as it would have been in a convent. From infancy they had slept in a room adjoining that of the Comtesse de Granville the door of which stood always open. The time not occupied by the care of their persons their religious duties and the studies considered necessary for well-bred young ladies was spent in needlework done for the poor or in walks like those an Englishwoman allows herself on Sunday saying apparently "Not so fast or we shall seem to be amusing ourselves." Their education did not go beyond the limits imposed by confessors who were chosen by their mother from the strictest and least tolerant of the Jansenist priests. Never were girls delivered over to their husbands more absolutely pure and virgin than they; their mother seemed to consider that point essential as indeed it is the accomplishment of all her duties toward earth and heaven. These two poor creatures had never before their marriage read a tale or heard of a romance; their very drawings were of figures whose anatomy would have been masterpieces of the impossible to Cuvier designed to feminize the Farnese Hercules himself. An old maid taught them drawing. A worthy priest instructed them in grammar the French language history geography and the very little arithmetic it was thought necessary in their rank for women to know. Their reading selected from authorized books such as the "Lettres Edifiantes" and Noel's "Lecons de Litterature" was done aloud in the evening; but always in presence of their mother's confessor for even in those books there did sometimes occur passages which without wise comments might have roused their imagination. Fenelon's "Telemaque" was thought dangerous. The Comtesse de Granville loved her daughters sufficiently to wish to make them angels after the pattern of Marie Alacoque but the poor girls themselves would have preferred a less virtuous and more amiable mother. This education bore its natural fruits. Religion imposed as a yoke and presented under its sternest aspect wearied with formal practice these innocent young hearts treated as sinful. It repressed their feelings and was never precious to them although it struck its roots deep down into their natures. Under such training the two Maries would either have become mere imbeciles or they must necessarily have longed for independence. Thus it came to pass that they looked to marriage as soon as they saw anything of life and were able to compare a few ideas. Of their own tender graces and their personal value they were absolutely ignorant. They were ignorant too of their own innocence; how then could they know life? Without weapons to meet misfortune without experience to appreciate happiness they found no comfort in the maternal jail all their joys were in each other. Their tender confidences at night in whispers or a few short sentences exchanged if their mother left them for a moment contained more ideas than the words themselves expressed. Often a glance concealed from other eyes by which they conveyed to each other their emotions was like a poem of bitter melancholy. The sight of a cloudless sky the fragrance of flowers a turn in the garden arm in arm--these were their joys. The finishing of a piece of embroidery was to them a source of enjoyment. Their mother's social circle far from opening resources to their hearts or stimulating their minds only darkened their ideas and depressed them; it was made up of rigid old women withered and graceless whose conversation turned on the differences which distinguished various preachers and confessors on their own petty indispositions on religious events insignificant even to the "Quotidienne" or "l'Ami de la Religion." As for the men who appeared in the Comtesse de Granville's salon they extinguished any possible torch of love so cold and sadly resigned were their faces. They were all of an age when mankind is sulky and fretful and natural sensibilities are chiefly exercised at table and on the things relating to personal comfort. Religious egotism had long dried up those hearts devoted to narrow duties and entrenched behind pious practices. Silent games of cards occupied the whole evening and the two young girls under the ban of that Sanhedrim enforced by maternal severity came to hate the dispiriting personages about them with their hollow eyes and scowling faces. On the gloom of this life one sole figure of a man that of a music- master stood vigorously forth. The confessors had decided that music was a Christian art born of the Catholic Church and developed within her. The two Maries were therefore permitted to study music. A spinster in spectacles who taught singing and the piano in a neighboring convent wearied them with exercises; but when the eldest girl was ten years old the Comte de Granville insisted on the importance of giving her a master. Madame de Granville gave all the value of conjugal obedience to this needed concession--it is part of a devote's character to make a merit of doing her duty. The master was a Catholic German; one of those men born old who seem all their lives fifty years of age even at eighty. And yet his brown sunken wrinkled face still kept something infantile and artless in its dark creases. The blue of innocence was in his eyes and a gay smile of springtide abode upon his lips. His iron-gray hair falling naturally like that of the Christ in art added to his ecstatic air a certain solemnity which was absolutely deceptive as to his real nature; for he was capable of committing any silliness with the most exemplary gravity. His clothes were a necessary envelope to which he paid not the slightest attention for his eyes looked too ...