I should commend your work much more were I myself less praised in it; but I am unwilling2 to do so, lest my praises should seem rather the effect of self-love than to be founded on reason and justice. I am fearful that, like Themistocles, I should appear to admire their eloquence3 the most who are most forward to praise me. It is the usual frailty4 of our sex to be fond of flattery. I blame this in other women, and should wish not to be chargeable with it myself. Yet I confess that I take a pride in being painted by the hand of so able a master, however flattering the likeness5 may be. If I ever were possessed6 of the graces you have assigned to me, trouble and vexation render them no longer visible, and have even effaced7 them from my own recollection. So that I view myself in your Memoirs8, and say, with old Madame de Rendan, who, not having consulted her glass since her husband’s death, on seeing her own face in the mirror of another lady, exclaimed, “Who is this?” Whatever my friends tell me when they see me now, I am inclined to think proceeds from the partiality of their affection. I am sure that you yourself, when you consider more impartially9 what you have said, will be induced to believe, according to these lines of Du Bellay:
“C’est chercher Rome en Rome, Et rien de Rome en Rome ne trouver.”
(‘Tis to seek Rome, in Rome to go, And Rome herself at Rome not know.)
But as we read with pleasure the history of the Siege of Troy, the magnificence of Athens, and other splendid cities, which once flourished, but are now so entirely10 destroyed that scarcely the spot whereon they stood can be traced, so you please yourself with describing these excellences11 of beauty which are no more, and which will be discoverable only in your writings.
If you had taken upon you to contrast Nature and Fortune, you could not have chosen a happier theme upon which to descant12, for both have made a trial of their strength on the subject of your Memoirs. What Nature did, you had the evidence of your own eyes to vouch13 for, but what was done by Fortune, you know only from hearsay14; and hearsay, I need not tell you, is liable to be influenced by ignorance or malice15, and, therefore, is not to be depended on. You will for that reason, I make no doubt, be pleased to receive these Memoirs from the hand which is most interested in the truth of them.
I have been induced to undertake writing my Memoirs the more from five or six observations which I have had occasion to make upon your work, as you appear to have been misinformed respecting certain particulars. For example, in that part where mention is made of Pau, and of my journey in France; likewise where you speak of the late Marechal de Biron, of Agen, and of the sally of the Marquis de Camillac from that place.
These Memoirs might merit the honourable16 name of history from the truths contained in them, as I shall prefer truth to embellishment. In fact, to embellish17 my story I have neither leisure nor ability; I shall, therefore, do no more than give a simple narration18 of events. They are the labours of my evenings, and will come to you an unformed mass, to receive its shape from your hands, or as a chaos19 on which you have already thrown light. Mine is a history most assuredly worthy20 to come from a man of honour, one who is a true Frenchman, born of illustrious parents, brought up in the Court of the Kings my father and brothers, allied21 in blood and friendship to the most virtuous22 and accomplished23 women of our times, of which society I have had the good fortune to be the bond of union.
I shall begin these Memoirs in the reign24 of Charles IX., and set out with the first remarkable25 event of my life which fell within my remembrance. Herein I follow the example of geographical26 writers, who, having described the places within their knowledge, tell you that all beyond them are sandy deserts, countries without inhabitants, or seas never navigated27. Thus I might say that all prior to the commencement of these Memoirs was the barrenness of my infancy, when we can only be said to vegetate28 like plants, or live, like brutes30, according to instinct, and not as human creatures, guided by reason. To those who had the direction of my earliest years I leave the task of relating the transactions of my infancy, if they find them as worthy of being recorded as the infantine exploits of Themistocles and Alexander,—the one exposing himself to be trampled31 on by the horses of a charioteer, who would not stop them when requested to do so, and the other refusing to run a race unless kings were to enter the contest against him. Amongst such memorable32 things might be related the answer I made the King my father, a short time before the fatal accident which deprived France of peace, and our family of its chief glory. I was then about four or five years of age, when the King, placing me on his knee, entered familiarly into chat with me. There were, in the same room, playing and diverting themselves, the Prince de Joinville, since the great and unfortunate Duc de Guise33, and the Marquis de Beaupreau, son of the Prince de la Roche-sur-Yon, who died in his fourteenth year, and by whose death his country lost a youth of most promising34 talents. Amongst other discourse35, the King asked which of the two Princes that were before me I liked best. I replied, “The Marquis.” The King said, “Why so? He is not the handsomest.” The Prince de Joinville was fair, with light-coloured hair, and the Marquis de Beaupreau brown, with dark hair. I answered, “Because he is the best behaved; whilst the Prince is always making mischief36, and will be master over everybody.”
This was a presage37 of what we have seen happen since, when the whole Court was infected with heresy38, about the time of the Conference of Poissy. It was with great difficulty that I resisted and preserved myself from a change of religion at that time. Many ladies and lords belonging to Court strove to convert me to Huguenotism. The Duc d’Anjou, since King Henri III. of France, then in his infancy, had been prevailed on to change his religion, and he often snatched my “Hours” out of my hand, and flung them into the fire, giving me Psalm39 Books and books of Huguenot prayers, insisting on my using them. I took the first opportunity to give them up to my governess, Madame de Curton, whom God, out of his mercy to me, caused to continue steadfast40 in the Catholic religion. She frequently took me to that pious41, good man, the Cardinal42 de Tournon, who gave me good advice, and strengthened me in a perseverance43 in my religion, furnishing me with books and chaplets of beads44 in the room of those my brother Anjou took from me and burnt.
Many of my brother’s most intimate friends had resolved on my ruin, and rated me severely45 upon my refusal to change, saying it proceeded from a childish obstinacy46; that if I had the least understanding, and would listen, like other discreet47 persons, to the sermons that were preached, I should abjure48 my uncharitable bigotry49; but I was, said they, as foolish as my governess. My brother Anjou added threats, and said the Queen my mother would give orders that I should be whipped. But this he said of his own head, for the Queen my mother did not, at that time, know of the errors he had embraced. As soon as it came to her knowledge, she took him to task, and severely reprimanded his governors, insisting upon their correcting him, and instructing him in the holy and ancient religion of his forefathers50, from which she herself never swerved51. When he used those menaces, as I have before related, I was a child seven or eight years old, and at that tender age would reply to him, “Well, get me whipped if you can; I will suffer whipping, and even death, rather than be damned.”
I could furnish you with many other replies of the like kind, which gave proof of the early ripeness of my judgment52 and my courage; but I shall not trouble myself with such researches, choosing rather to begin these Memoirs at the time when I resided constantly with the Queen my mother.
Immediately after the Conference of Poissy, the civil wars commenced, and my brother Alencon and myself, on account of our youth, were sent to Amboise, whither all the ladies of the country repaired to us.
With them came your aunt, Madame de Dampierre, who entered into a firm friendship with me, which was never interrupted until her death broke it off. There was likewise your cousin, the Duchesse de Rais, who had the good fortune to hear there of the death of her brute29 of a husband, killed at the battle of Dreux. The husband I mean was the first she had, named M. d’Annebaut, who was unworthy to have for a wife so accomplished and charming a woman as your cousin. She and I were not then so intimate friends as we have become since, and shall ever remain. The reason was that, though older than I, she was yet young, and young girls seldom take much notice of children, whereas your aunt was of an age when women admire their innocence53 and engaging simplicity54.
I remained at Amboise until the Queen my mother was ready to set out on her grand progress, at which time she sent for me to come to her Court, which I did not quit afterwards.
Of this progress I will not undertake to give you a description, being still so young that, though the whole is within my recollection, yet the particular passages of it appear to me but as a dream, and are now lost. I leave this task to others, of riper years, as you were yourself. You can well remember the magnificence that was displayed everywhere, particularly at the baptism of my nephew, the Duc de Lorraine, at Bar-le-Duc; at the meeting of M. and Madame de Savoy, in the city of Lyons; the interview at Bayonne betwixt my sister, the Queen of Spain, the Queen my mother, and King Charles my brother. In your account of this interview you would not forget to make mention of the noble entertainment given by the Queen my mother, on an island, with the grand dances, and the form of the salon55, which seemed appropriated by nature for such a purpose, it being a large meadow in the middle of the island, in the shape of an oval, surrounded on every aide by tall spreading trees. In this meadow the Queen my mother had disposed a circle of niches56, each of them large enough to contain a table of twelve covers. At one end a platform was raised, ascended57 by four steps formed of turf. Here their Majesties58 were seated at a table under a lofty canopy59. The tables were all served by troops of shepherdesses dressed in cloth of gold and satin, after the fashion of the different provinces of France. These shepherdesses, during the passage of the superb boats from Bayonne to the island, were placed in separate bands, in a meadow on each side of the causeway, raised with turf; and whilst their Majesties and the company were passing through the great salon, they danced. On their passage by water, the barges60 were followed by other boats, having on board vocal61 and instrumental musicians, habited like Nereids, singing and playing the whole time. After landing, the shepherdesses I have mentioned before received the company in separate troops, with songs and dances, after the fashion and accompanied by the music of the provinces they represented,—the Poitevins playing on bagpipes62; the Provencales on the viol and cymbal63; the Burgundians and Champagners on the hautboy, bass64 viol, and tambourine65; in like manner the Bretons and other provincialists. After the collation66 was served and the feast at an end, a large troop of musicians, habited like satyrs, was seen to come out of the opening of a rock, well lighted up, whilst nymphs were descending67 from the top in rich habits, who, as they came down, formed into a grand dance, when, lo! fortune no longer favouring this brilliant festival, a sudden storm of rain came on, and all were glad to get off in the boats and make for town as fast as they could. The confusion in consequence of this precipitate68 retreat afforded as much matter to laugh at the next day as the splendour of the entertainment had excited admiration69. In short, the festivity of this day was not, forgotten, on one account or the other, amidst the variety of the like nature which succeeded it in the course of this progress.
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1
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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7
effaced
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| v.擦掉( efface的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；超越；使黯然失色 | |
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memoirs
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| n.回忆录；回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
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impartially
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| adv.公平地，无私地 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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excellences
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| n.卓越( excellence的名词复数 )；（只用于所修饰的名词后）杰出的；卓越的；出类拔萃的 | |
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descant
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| v.详论，絮说；n.高音部 | |
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vouch
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| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
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hearsay
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| n.谣传，风闻 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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embellish
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| v.装饰，布置；给…添加细节，润饰 | |
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narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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geographical
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| adj.地理的；地区(性)的 | |
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navigated
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| v.给（船舶、飞机等）引航，导航( navigate的过去式和过去分词 )；（从海上、空中等）横越；横渡；飞跃 | |
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vegetate
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| v.无所事事地过活 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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presage
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| n.预感，不祥感；v.预示 | |
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heresy
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| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
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psalm
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| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
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40
steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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41
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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42
cardinal
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| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
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43
perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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44
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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45
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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46
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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47
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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48
abjure
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| v.发誓放弃 | |
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49
bigotry
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| n.偏见，偏执，持偏见的行为[态度]等 | |
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50
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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51
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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53
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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54
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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55
salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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56
niches
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| 壁龛( niche的名词复数 )； 合适的位置[工作等]； （产品的）商机； 生态位（一个生物所占据的生境的最小单位） | |
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57
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
majesties
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| n.雄伟( majesty的名词复数 )；庄严；陛下；王权 | |
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59
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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61
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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bagpipes
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| n.风笛；风笛( bagpipe的名词复数 ) | |
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cymbal
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| n.铙钹 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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tambourine
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| n.铃鼓，手鼓 | |
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66
collation
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| n.便餐；整理 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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