pagna, the chief of four-and-twenty brave men whom the law describes as miscreants, whom all the ladies admire, and whom judges hang in obedience to an old habit.""God be praised! I am saved.
An honest man would have been afraid, whereas I am sure of coming to an understanding with you,"cried the Duke. "Oh, my worthy 222 OLYMPIAdeliverer, you must be armed to the teeth.""/E verissimo/" (most true).
"Do you happen to have--"
"Yes, files, pincers--/Corpo di Bacco/! I came to borrow the treas-ures of the Bracciani on a long loan."
"You will earn a handsome share of them very legitimately, my good Rinaldo, and we may possibly go man hunting together--""You surprise me, Eccellenza!"
"Listen to me, Rinaldo. I will say nothing of the craving for vengeance that gnaws at my heart.
I have been here for thirty months --you too are Italian--you will un-OR ROMAN REVENGE 223
derstand me! Alas, my friend, my fatigue and my horrible incarcera-tion are nothing in comparison with the rage that devours my soul.
The Duchess of Bracciano is still one of the most beautiful women in Rome. I loved her well enough to be jealous--""You, her husband!"
"Yes, I was wrong, no doubt."
"It is not the correct thing, to be sure," said Rinaldo.
"My jealousy was roused by the Duchess' conduct," the Duke went on. "The event proved me right. Ayoung Frenchman fell in love with Olympia, and she loved him. I had proofs of their reciprocal affection "Pray excuse me, ladies," said Lousteau, "but I find it impossible to go on without remarking to you how direct this Empire literature is, going to the point without any details, a characteristic, as it seems to me, of a primitive time. The literature of that period holds a place between the summaries of chapters in /Telemaque/ and the categorical reports of a public office. It had ideas, but refrained from expressing them, it was so scornful! It was observant, but would not communicate its observations to any one, it was so miserly! Nobody but Fouche ever mentioned what he had observed. 'At that time,' to quote the words of one of the most imbecile critics in the /Revue des Deux Mondes/, 'literature was content with a clear sketch and the ****** outline of all antique statues. It did not dance over its periods.'--I should think not! It had no periods to dance over. It had no words to play with. You were plainly told that Lubin loved Toinette; that Toinette did not love Lubin; that Lubin killed Toinette and the police caught Lubin, who was put in prison, tried at the assizes, and guillotined.--A strong sketch, a clear outline! What a noble drama! Well, in these days the barbarians make words sparkle.""Like a hair in a frost," said Monsieur de Clagny.
"So those are the airs you affect?"[*] retorted Lousteau.
[*] The rendering given above is only intended to link the various speeches into coherence; it has no resemblance with the French. In the original, "Font chatoyer les /mots/.""Et quelquefois les /morts/," dit Monsieur de Clagny.
"Ah! Lousteau! vous vous donnez de ces R-la (airs-la)."Literally: "And sometimes the dead."--"Ah, are those the airs you assume?"--the play on the insertion of the letter R (/mots, morts/) has no meaning in English.
"What can he mean?" asked Madame de Clagny, puzzled by this vile pun.
"I seem to be walking in the dark," replied the Mayoress.
"The jest would be lost in an explanation," remarked Gatien.
"Nowadays," Lousteau went on, "a novelist draws characters, and instead of a '****** outline,' he unveils the human heart and gives you some interest either in Lubin or in Toinette.""For my part, I am alarmed at the progress of public knowledge in the matter of literature," said Bianchon. "Like the Russians, beaten by Charles XII., who at least learned the art of war, the reader has learned the art of writing. Formerly all that was expected of a romance was that it should be interesting. As to style, no one cared for that, not even the author; as to ideas--zero; as to local color--/non est/. By degrees the reader has demanded style, interest, pathos, and complete information; he insists on the five literary senses--Invention, Style, Thought, Learning, and Feeling. Then some criticism commenting on everything. The critic, incapable of inventing anything but calumny, pronounces every work that proceeds from a not perfect brain to be deformed. Some magicians, as Walter Scott, for instance, having appeared in the world, who combined all the five literary senses, such writers as had but one--wit or learning, style or feeling --these cripples, these acephalous, maimed or purblind creatures--in a literary sense--have taken to shrieking that all is lost, and have preached a crusade against men who were spoiling the business, or have denounced their works.""The history of your last literary quarrel!" Dinah observed.
"For pity's sake, come back to the Duke of Bracciano," cried Monsieur de Clagny.
To the despair of all the company, Lousteau went on with the made-up sheet.
224 OLYMPIA
I then wished to make sure of my misfortune that I might be avenged under the protection of Providence and the Law. The Duchess guessed my intentions. We were at war in our purposes before we fought with poison in our hands. We tried to tempt each other to such confidence as we could not feel, I to induce her to drink a potion, she to get posses-sion of me. She was a woman, and she won the day; for women have a snare more than we men. I fell into it--I was happy; but I awoke next day in this iron cage. All through the day I bellowed with rage in the OR ROMAN REVENGE 225darkness of this cellar, over which is the Duchess' bedroom. At night an ingenious counterpoise acting as a lift raised me through the floor, and I saw the Duchess in her lover's arms. She threw me a piece of bread, my daily pittance.
