A murmur9 of voices filled the hall. In the third rank of the parquette, General Lariviere, standing10 at his place, was talking with General de La Briche.
“I will do as you do, my old comrade, I will go and plant cabbages in Touraine.”
He was in one of his moments of melancholy11, when nothingness appeared to him to be the end of life. He had flattered Garain, and Garain, thinking him too clever, had preferred for Minister of War a shortsighted and national artillery12 general. At least, the General relished13 the pleasure of seeing Garain abandoned, betrayed by his friends Berthier-d’Eyzelles and Martin-Belleme. It made him laugh even to the wrinkles of his small eyes. He laughed in profile. Weary of a long life of dissimulation14, he gave to himself suddenly the joy of expressing his thoughts.
“You see, my good La Briche, they make fools of us with their civil army, which costs a great deal, and is worth nothing. Small armies are the only good ones. This was the opinion of Napoleon I, who knew.”
“It is true, it is very true,” sighed General de La Briche, with tears in his eyes.
Montessuy passed before them; Lariviere extended his hand to him.
“They say, Montessuy, that you are the one who checked Garain. Accept my compliments.”
Montessuy denied that he had exercised any political influence. He was not a senator nor a deputy, nor a councillor-general. And, looking through his glasses at the hall:
“See, Lariviere, in that box at the right, a very beautiful woman, a brunette.”
And he took his seat quietly, relishing16 the sweets of power.
However, in the hall, in the corridors, the names of the new Ministers went from mouth to mouth in the midst of profound indifference17: President of the Council and Minister of the Interior, Berthier-d’Eyzelles; justice and Religions, Loyer; Treasury, Martin-Belleme. All the ministers were known except those of Commerce, War, and the Navy, who were not yet designated.
The curtain was raised on the wine-shop of Bacchus. The students were singing their second chorus when Madame Martin appeared in her box. Her white gown had sleeves like wings, and on the drapery of her corsage, at the left breast, shone a large ruby18 lily.
Miss Bell sat near her, in a green velvet19 Queen Anne gown. Betrothed20 to Prince Eusebio Albertinelli della Spina, she had come to Paris to order her trousseau.
In the movement and the noise of the kermess she said:
“Darling, you have left at Florence a friend who retains the charm of your memory. It is Professor Arrighi. He reserves for you the praise-which he says is the most beautiful. He says you are a musical creature. But how could Professor Arrighi forget you, darling, since the trees in the garden have not forgotten you? Their unleaved branches lament21 your absence. Even they regret you, darling.”
“Tell them,” said Therese, “that I have of Fiesole a delightful22 reminiscence, which I shall always keep.”
In the rear of the opera-box M. Martin-Belleme was explaining in a low voice his ideas to Joseph Springer and to Duviquet. He was saying: “France’s signature is the best in the world.” He was inclined to prudence23 in financial matters.
And Miss Bell said:
“Darling, I will tell the trees of Fiesole that you regret them and that you will soon come to visit them on their hills. But I ask you, do you see Monsieur Dechartre in Paris? I should like to see him very much. I like him because his mind is graceful24. Darling, the mind of Monsieur Dechartre is full of grace and elegance3.”
Therese replied M. Jacques Dechartre was doubtless in the theatre, and that he would not fail to come and salute25 Miss Bell.
The curtain fell on the gayety of the waltz scene. Visitors crowded the foyers. Financiers, artists, deputies met in the anteroom adjoining the box. They surrounded M. Martin-Belleme, murmured polite congratulations, made graceful gestures to him, and crowded one another in order to shake his hand. Joseph Schmoll, coughing, complaining, blind and deaf, made his way through the throng26 and reached Madame Martin. He took her hand and said:
“They say your husband is appointed Minister. Is it true?”
She knew they were talking of it, but she did not think he had been appointed yet. Her husband was there, why not ask him?
Sensitive to literal truths only, Schmoll said:
“Your husband is not yet a Minister? When he is appointed, I will ask you for an interview. It is an affair of the highest importance.”
He paused, throwing from his gold spectacles the glances of a blind man and of a visionary, which kept him, despite the brutal27 exactitude of his temperament28, in a sort of mystical state of mind. He asked, brusquely:
“Were you in Italy this year, Madame?”
And, without giving her time to answer:
“I know, I know. You went to Rome. You have looked at the arch of the infamous29 Titus, that execrable monument, where one may see the seven-branched candlestick among the spoils of the Jews. Well, Madame, it is a shame to the world that that monument remains30 standing in the city of Rome, where the Popes have subsisted31 only through the art of the Jews, financiers and money-changers. The Jews brought to Italy the science of Greece and of the Orient. The Renaissance32, Madame, is the work of Israel. That is the truth, certain but misunderstood.”
And he went through the crowd of visitors, crushing hats as he passed.
Princess Seniavine looked at her friend from her box with the curiosity that the beauty of women at times excited in her. She made a sign to Paul Vence who was near her:
“Do you not think Madame Martin is extraordinarily33 beautiful this year?”
In the lobby, full of light and gold, General de La Briche asked Lariviere:
“Did you see my nephew?”
“Your nephew, Le Menil?”
“Yes — Robert. He was in the theatre a moment ago.”
La Briche remained pensive34 for a moment. Then he said:
“He came this summer to Semanville. I thought him odd. A charming fellow, frank and intelligent. But he ought to have some occupation, some aim in life.”
The bell which announced the end of an intermission between the acts had hushed. In the foyer the two old men were walking alone.
“An aim in life,” repeated La Briche, tall, thin, and bent, while his companion, lightened and rejuvenated35, hastened within, fearing to miss a scene.
Marguerite, in the garden, was spinning and singing. When she had finished, Miss Bell said to Madame Martin:
“Darling, Monsieur Choulette has written me a perfectly36 beautiful letter. He has told me that he is very celebrated37. And I am glad to know it. He said also: ‘The glory of other poets reposes38 in myrrh and aromatic39 plants. Mine bleeds and moans under a rain of stones and of oyster-shells.’ Do the French, my love, really throw stones at Monsieur Choulette?”
While Therese reassured40 Miss Bell, Loyer, imperious and somewhat noisy, caused the door of the box to be opened. He appeared wet and spattered with mud.
“I come from the Elysee,” he said.
He had the gallantry to announce to Madame Martin, first, the good news he was bringing:
“The decrees are signed. Your husband has the Finances. It is a good portfolio41.”
“The President of the Republic,” inquired M. Martin — Belleme, “made no objection when my name was pronounced?”
“No; Berthier praised the hereditary42 property of the Martins, your caution, and the links with which you are attached to certain personalities43 in the financial world whose concurrence44 may be useful to the government. And the President, in accordance with Garain’s happy expression, was inspired by the necessities of the situation. He has signed.”
On Count Martin’s yellowed face two or three wrinkles appeared. He was smiling.
“The decree,” continued Loyer, “will be published tomorrow. I accompanied myself the clerk who took it to the printer. It was surer. In Grevy’s time, and Grevy was not an idiot, decrees were intercepted45 in the journey from the Elysee to the Quai Voltaire.”
And Loyer threw himself on a chair. There, enjoying the view of Madame Martin, he continued:
“People will not say, as they did in the time of my poor friend Gambetta, that the republic is lacking in women. You will give us fine festivals, Madame, in the salons46 of the Ministry.”
Marguerite, looking at herself in the mirror, with her necklace and earrings47, was singing the jewel song.
“We shall have to compose the declaration,” said Count Martin. “I have thought of it. For my department I have found, I think, a fine formula.”
Loyer shrugged48 his shoulders.
“My dear Martin, we have nothing essential to change in the declaration of the preceding Cabinet; the situation is unchanged.”
He struck his forehead with his hand.
“Oh, I had forgotten. We have made your friend, old Lariviere, Minister of War, without consulting him. I have to warn him.”
He thought he could find him in the boulevard cafe, where military men go. But Count Martin knew the General was in the theatre.
“I must find him,” said Loyer.
Bowing to Therese, he said:
“You permit me, Countess, to take your husband?”
They had just gone out when Jacques Dechartre and Paul Vence came into the box.
“I congratulate you, Madame,” said Paul Vence.
But she turned toward Dechartre:
“I hope you have not come to congratulate me, too.”
Paul Vence asked her if she would move into the apartments of the Ministry.
“Oh, no,” she replied.
“At least, Madame,” said Paul Vence, “you will go to the balls at the Elysees, and we shall admire the art with which you retain your mysterious charm.”
“Changes in cabinets,” said Madame Martin, “inspire you, Monsieur Vence, with very frivolous49 reflections.”
“Madame,” continued Paul Vence, “I shall not say like Renan, my beloved master: ‘What does Sirius care?’ because somebody would reply with reason ‘What does little Earth care for big Sirius?’ But I am always surprised when people who are adult, and even old, let themselves be deluded50 by the illusion of power, as if hunger, love, and death, all the ignoble51 or sublime52 necessities of life, did not exercise on men an empire too sovereign to leave them anything other than power written on paper and an empire of words. And, what is still more marvellous, people imagine they have other chiefs of state and other ministers than their miseries53, their desires, and their imbecility. He was a wise man who said: ‘Let us give to men irony54 and pity as witnesses and judges.’”
“But, Monsieur Vence,” said Madame Martin, laughingly, “you are the man who wrote that. I read it.”
The two Ministers looked vainly in the theatre and in the corridors for the General. On the advice of the ushers55, they went behind the scenes.
Two ballet-dancers were standing sadly, with a foot on the bar placed against the wall. Here and there men in evening dress and women in gauze formed groups almost silent.
Loyer and Martin-Belleme, when they entered, took off their hats. They saw, in the rear of the hall, Lariviere with a pretty girl whose pink tunic56, held by a gold belt, was open at the hips57.
She held in her hand a gilt58 pasteboard cup. When they were near her, they heard her say to the General:
“You are old, to be sure, but I think you do as much as he does.”
And she was pointing disdainfully to a grinning young man, with a gardenia59 in his button-hole, who stood near them.
Loyer motioned to the General that he wished to speak to him, and, pushing him against the bar, said:
“I have the pleasure to announce to you that you have been appointed Minister of War.”
Lariviere, distrustful, said nothing. That badly dressed man with long hair, who, under his dusty coat, resembled a clown, inspired so little confidence in him that he suspected a snare60, perhaps a bad joke.
“Monsieur Loyer is Keeper of the Seals,” said Count Martin.
“General, you cannot refuse,” Loyer said. “I have said you will accept. If you hesitate, it will be favoring the offensive return of Garain. He is a traitor61.”
“My dear colleague, you exaggerate,” said Count Martin; “but Garain, perhaps, is lacking a little in frankness. And the General’s support is urgent.”
“The Fatherland before everything,” replied Lariviere with emotion.
“You know, General,” continued Loyer, “the existing laws are to be applied62 with moderation.”
He looked at the two dancers who were extending their short and muscular legs on the bar.
Lariviere murmured:
“The army’s patriotism63 is excellent; the good-will of the chiefs is at the height of the most critical circumstances.”
Loyer tapped his shoulder.
“My dear colleague, there is some use in having big armies.”
“I believe as you do,” replied Lariviere; “the present army fills the superior necessities of national defence.”
“The use of big armies,” continued Loyer, “is to make war impossible. One would be crazy to engage in a war these immeasurable forces, the management of which surpasses all human faculty64. Is not this your opinion, General?”
General Lariviere winked65.
“The situation,” he said, “exacts circumspection66. We are facing a perilous67 unknown.”
Then Loyer, looking at his war colleague with cynical68 contempt, said:
“In the very improbable case of a war, don’t you think, my dear colleague, that the real generals would be the station-masters?”
The three Ministers went out by the private stairway. The President of the Council was waiting for them.
The last act had begun; Madame Martin had in her box only Dechartre and Miss Bell. Miss Bell was saying:
“I rejoice, darling, I am exalted69, at the thought that you wear on your heart the red lily of Florence. Monsieur Dechartre, whose soul is artistic70, must be very glad, too, to see at your corsage that charming jewel.
“I should like to know the jeweller that made it, darling. This lily is lithe71 and supple72 like an iris73. Oh, it is elegant, magnificent, and cruel. Have you noticed, my love, that beautiful jewels have an air of magnificent cruelty?”
“My jeweller,” said Therese, “is here, and you have named him; it is Monsieur Dechartre who designed this jewel.”
The door of the box was opened. Therese half turned her head and saw in the shadow Le Menil, who was bowing to her with his brusque suppleness74.
“Transmit, I pray you, Madame, my congratulations to your husband.”
He complimented her on her fine appearance. He spoke75 to Miss Bell a few courteous76 and precise words.
Therese listened anxiously, her mouth half open in the painful effort to say insignificant77 things in reply. He asked her whether she had had a good season at Joinville. He would have liked to go in the hunting time, but could not. He had gone to the Mediterranean78, then he had hunted at Semanville.
“Oh, Monsieur Le Menil,” said Miss Bell, “you have wandered on the blue sea. Have you seen sirens?”
No, he had not seen sirens, but for three days a dolphin had swum in the yacht’s wake.
Miss Bell asked him if that dolphin liked music.
He thought not.
“Dolphins,” he said, “are very ordinary fish that sailors call sea-geese, because they have goose-shaped heads.”
But Miss Bell would not believe that the monster which had earned the poet Arion had a goose-shaped head.
“Monsieur Le Menil, if next year a dolphin comes to swim near your boat, I pray you play to him on the flute79 the Delphic Hymn80 to Apollo. Do you like the sea, Monsieur Le Menil?”
“I prefer the woods.”
Self-contained, simple, he talked quietly.
“Oh, Monsieur Le Menil, I know you like woods where the hares dance in the moonlight.”
Dechartre, pale, rose and went out.
The church scene was on. Marguerite, kneeling, was wringing81 her hands, and her head drooped82 with the weight of her long tresses. The voices of the organ and the chorus sang the death-song.
“Oh, darling, do you know that that death-song, which is sung only in the Catholic churches, comes from a Franciscan hermitage? It sounds like the wind which blows in winter in the trees on the summit of the Alverno.”
Therese did not hear. Her soul had followed Dechartre through the door of her box.
In the anteroom was a noise of overthrown83 chairs. It was Schmoll coming back. He had learned that M. Martin-Belleme had recently been appointed Minister. At once he claimed the cross of Commander of the Legion of Honor and a larger apartment at the Institute. His apartment was small, narrow, insufficient84 for his wife and his five daughters. He had been forced to put his workshop under the roof. He made long complaints, and consented to go only after Madame Martin had promised that she would speak to her husband.
“Monsieur Le Menil,” asked Miss Bell, “shall you go yachting next year?”
Le Menil thought not. He did not intend to keep the Rosebud85. The water was tiresome86.
And calm, energetic, determined87, he looked at Therese.
On the stage, in Marguerite’s prison, Mephistopheles sang, and the orchestra imitated the gallop88 of horses. Therese murmured:
“I have a headache. It is too warm here.”
Le Menil opened the door.
The clear phrase of Marguerite calling the angels ascended89 to heaven in white sparks.
“Darling, I will tell you that poor Marguerite does not wish to be saved according to the flesh, and for that reason she is saved in spirit and in truth. I believe one thing, darling, I believe firmly we shall all be saved. Oh, yes, I believe in the final purification of sinners.”
Therese rose, tall and white, with the red flower at her breast. Miss Bell, immovable, listened to the music. Le Menil, in the anteroom, took Madame Martin’s cloak, and, while he held it unfolded, she traversed the box, the anteroom, and stopped before the mirror of the half-open door. He placed on her bare shoulders the cape90 of red velvet embroidered91 with gold and lined with ermine, and said, in a low tone, but distinctly:
“Therese, I love you. Remember what I asked you the day before yesterday. I shall be every day, at three o’clock, at our home, in the Rue15 Spontini.”
At this moment, as she made a motion with her head to receive the cloak, she saw Dechartre with his hand on the knob of the door. He had heard. He looked at her with all the reproach and suffering that human eyes can contain. Then he went into the dim corridor. She felt hammers of fire beating in her chest and remained immovable on the threshold.
“You were waiting for me?” said Montessuy. “You are left alone to-day. I will escort you and Miss Bell.”
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1
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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elegances
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| n.高雅( elegance的名词复数 )；（举止、服饰、风格等的）优雅；精致物品；（思考等的）简洁 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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treasury
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| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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13
relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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dissimulation
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| n.掩饰，虚伪，装糊涂 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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relishing
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| v.欣赏( relish的现在分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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subsisted
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| v.（靠很少的钱或食物）维持生活，生存下去( subsist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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renaissance
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| n.复活，复兴，文艺复兴 | |
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extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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rejuvenated
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| 更生的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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reposes
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的第三人称单数 ) | |
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aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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concurrence
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| n.同意；并发 | |
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intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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46
salons
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| n.（营业性质的）店( salon的名词复数 )；厅；沙龙（旧时在上流社会女主人家的例行聚会或聚会场所）；（大宅中的）客厅 | |
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earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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49
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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50
deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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miseries
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| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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ushers
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| n.引座员( usher的名词复数 )；招待员；门房；助理教员v.引，领，陪同( usher的第三人称单数 ) | |
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tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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gardenia
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| n.栀子花 | |
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snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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circumspection
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| n.细心，慎重 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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suppleness
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| 柔软； 灵活； 易弯曲； 顺从 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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rosebud
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| n.蔷薇花蕾，妙龄少女 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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