Jacques the Fatalist: And His Master (20 page)

MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Marquis! Marquis! I know you and I know them. It is obvious.

The Marquis did not show himself at Mme de La Pommeraye’s for about two months and this is what he did in the meantime. He got to know the confessor of the mother and daughter. He was a friend of the little priest of whom I’ve already spoken. This confessor, after having brought up every hypocritical objection that might be raised against a dishonest intrigue, and after having sold for the highest possible price the sanctity of his ministry, finally agreed to everything the Marquis wanted.

The first villainy of this man of God was to alienate the benevolence of the parish priest and convince him that the two protégées of Mme de La
Pommeraye were depriving other parishioners who were more needy than themselves of the alms they were obtaining from the parish. His aim was to force them to do what he wanted through poverty.

Next he sought, through the confessional, to sow discord between the mother and the daughter. When he heard the mother criticize the daughter he exaggerated the faults of the daughter and increased the resentment of the mother. If the daughter complained of her mother he suggested that the power of fathers and mothers over their children was limited and that if the persecution of the mother went beyond a certain point it would not be impossible to withdraw the daughter from such tyrannical authority, and for her penance he would order her to come back to confession.

Another time he spoke to her of her charms, but in a frivolous manner. These were, he said, the most dangerous presents which God had given to a woman. He spoke of the great impression they had made on an honest man whose identity he did not reveal but which was easy to guess. From there he passed on to the infinite mercy of heaven and its indulgence for faults which certain circumstances made inevitable. He spoke of the weakness of human nature for which each of us finds excuse in himself. He spoke of the violence and the universality of certain feelings from which even the most saintly of men were not free. He asked her if she had ever experienced any desires, if her feelings ever spoke to her in dreams, if the presence of men did not trouble her. Next he brought up the question of whether a woman should give way to an impassioned man or resist him and so doom to death and damnation one for whom Christ’s blood was spilled. And he did not dare decide for her. Then he sighed deeply several times, raised his eyes to heaven and prayed for peace to be brought to troubled souls. The young girl let him carry on. Her mother and Mme de La Pommeraye, to whom she faithfully reported all of the advice of her spiritual director, suggested fresh revelations she might make to him which were all designed to lead him on further.

HOSTESS
: The three women were certain that very soon the man of God would risk giving a letter to his penitent, and this he did. But what a performance he made of it! He didn’t know who it came from. He was certain, however, that it had come from some well-meaning charitable soul who had discovered how badly off the two ladies were and was offering help. He often passed on similar letters. He advised that since the girl was wise and her mother prudent she should open the letter only in her mother’s presence. Mademoiselle Duquênoi accepted the letter and gave it to her mother, who straight away sent it to Mme de La Pommeraye. She, armed with the letter, summoned the priest, overwhelmed him with the reproaches he deserved and threatened to report him to his superiors if he caused any more trouble.

In the letter the Marquis exhausted almost his entire vocabulary in praise of himself, in praise of Mlle Duquênoi, painted his passion in all its violence, made drastic offers and even proposed a kidnapping.

After her lecture to the priest Mme de La Pommeraye called the Marquis to her and pointed out to him in the strongest terms how his conduct was little worthy of a man of the world and how much it could compromise her. She showed him his letter and protested that in spite of the tender friendship which united them she could not promise to withhold it from the hands of the law or from Mme Duquênoi if the daughter were involved in any scandal.

‘Ah! Marquis,’ she said, ‘love has corrupted you. You were surely born under an evil sign since love, which inspires great actions, can only prompt you to such degrading ones. What have these poor women done to you that you should want to add ignominy to their poverty? Just because this girl is beautiful and wants to remain virtuous, do you have to become her persecutor? What right have you to make her hate heaven’s greatest gift? What have I deserved, to be your accomplice in this? Come, Marquis, down on your knees and ask me to forgive you and give me your oath that you will leave my poor friends in peace.’

The Marquis promised her not to do anything without her permission but he had to have this girl, whatever the cost. The Marquis was anything but faithful to his word. The mother knew how things stood and he did not hesitate to address himself to her. He wrote admitting the wickedness of his plans and he offered a considerable sum of money by way of a token of what the future might bring. His letter was accompanied by a jewel box full of rich stones.

The three women held counsel. The mother and the daughter were of a mind to accept but this was not what Mme de La Pommeraye wanted. She reminded them of the promise they had given her and threatened to reveal everything. And so, to the great regret of the two devout ladies, the younger woman had to take off the diamond ear-rings which suited her so well, and the jewel case and the letter were returned with a reply full of pride and indignation. Madame de La Pommeraye complained to the Marquis about the unreliability of his promises. The Marquis excused himself by pointing out that it was impossible for him to ask her to carry out such a dishonourable errand.

‘Marquis, Marquis,’ Mme de La Pommeraye replied, ‘I have already warned you and I repeat my warning. You have not got what you want but this is not the time to preach to you. That would be a waste of breath. There is nothing left to do.’

The Marquis admitted that he thought as she did and asked her permission to make one last attempt. This was to settle a considerable sum on the two women, to share his fortune with them, and to settle on them for life one of his town houses and another in the country.

‘Go ahead,’ said the Marquise, ‘I forbid only violence. But believe me, my friend, when honour and virtue are real, their value to those who are fortunate enough to possess them is beyond price. Your new offers will not be any more successful than the previous ones. I know these women and I will stake my life on it.’

The new propositions were made. The three women again held counsel together. The mother and daughter waited in silence for the decision of Mme de La Pommeraye. She paced up and down for a while without speaking: ‘No, no,’ she said, ‘it is not enough for my wounded heart.’ And as soon as she announced her refusal the two women burst into tears, threw themselves at her feet and protested how terrible it was for them to reject an immense fortune which they could accept without any awkward consequences.

Madame de La Pommeraye replied harshly: ‘Do you imagine that I am doing what I do for you? Who are you? What do I owe you? Why should I
not send the two of you back to your brothel? If what is being offered is too much for you, it is not enough for me. Write down the reply I dictate to you, Madame, and I want to see it go off.’

The two women went away more frightened than sorrowful.

MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: I do not advise you to travel. It is not worth going as far as Villejuif just to come back again.
⁴⁰

The next day the Marquis wrote to the Marquise that he was leaving for his estates, he would stay as long as he could and he begged her to look after his interests with her two friends if the opportunity arose. His absence was short. He came back resolved to marry.

HOSTESS
: On the way back he stopped at the door of Mme de La Pommeraye. She had gone out. On her return she found the Marquis stretched out in a large armchair, his eyes shut, deeply lost in thought.

‘Ah, it is you, Marquis! The charms of the country did not detain you very long!’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘I am happy nowhere and I have come back resolved to commit the greatest stupidity which a man of my rank, my age and my character could do. But it is better to get married than to suffer. I am getting married.’