Read Jacques the Fatalist: And His Master Online
Authors: Denis Diderot
MARQUIS
: Do you know that is not very nice? You are rich and they are badly off. Do you not even invite them to eat with you occasionally?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: I thought Monsieur le Marquis knew me a little better than that. Your love used to see good points in me. Today your friendship only sees my faults. I have invited them ten times, without once
getting them to accept. They refuse to come to my house because of the most singular objections. And when I visit them I have to leave my carriage at the end of their road and go practically undressed, without rouge or diamonds. But you must not be surprised by their reserve. One false rumour would be enough to alienate the good will of a certain number of benevolent people and deprive them of their assistance. Marquis, it would appear that the price of doing good is great.
MARQUIS
: Especially to church-goers.
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Since the smallest pretext suffices for it to be withdrawn. If people knew that I was taking any interest they would soon say: ‘Madame de La Pommeraye is their protector. They have need of nothing.’ And that would be the end of their charity.
MARQUIS
: Charity?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Yes, Monsieur, charity!
MARQUIS
: You know them and they depend on charity?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Yet again, Marquis, I see that you do not love me any more and that a large part of your esteem has vanished with your love. Who told you that if these women depend on the charity of the parish it is my fault?
MARQUIS
: Pardon, a thousand pardons, Madame, I am wrong. But what reason could they have for refusing the benevolence of a friend?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Ah! Marquis, we people of the world are a long way from understanding the delicate scruples of such timorous souls. They believe themselves unable to accept help from anyone indiscriminately.
MARQUIS
: But that deprives us of the best way of making amends for our follies and dissipation.
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Not at all. If I were to suppose that Monsieur le Marquis des Arcis were touched with compassion for them, what would there be to prevent him from offering his help through hands more worthy than his?
MARQUIS
: And less sure.
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Perhaps.
MARQUIS
: Tell me, if I sent them twenty louis, do you think they would refuse it?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: I am sure of it. And would their refusal be inappropriate, coming from a mother with such a charming daughter?
MARQUIS
: Do you know that I have been tempted to go and see them?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: I can well believe it. Marquis! Marquis! Be careful. Your compassion is rather sudden and rather suspect.
MARQUIS
: Whatever it is, would they have received me?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Certainly not! With the brilliance of your carriage, your clothes, your servants and the charms of the young lady, it would not need more than that to set the neighbours gossiping and lead to the two women’s downfall.
MARQUIS
: I am upset, because that was certainly not my intention. Must I give up any hope of helping them or seeing them?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: I think so.
MARQUIS
: But if my help came to them through you?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: I do not think that kind of help is disinterested enough for me to take responsibility.
MARQUIS
: That is harsh.
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Yes, harsh, that is the word.
MARQUIS
: What an idea! Marquise, you are making fun of me. A young girl whom I have only seen once…
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: But one of the small number of girls that are once seen and never forgotten.
MARQUIS
: It is true that faces like that stay with you.
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: Marquis, take great care for yourself, you are heading for great sorrows and I would prefer preserving you from them to having to console you. Do not confuse these women with the women you have known. You cannot tempt them, cannot seduce them, cannot go near them, they will not listen to you and you will never get what you want.
After this conversation the Marquis suddenly remembered that he had urgent business, got up quickly and left, looking very preoccupied. For quite a long period of time the Marquis hardly went a day without seeing Mme de La Pommeraye, but when he arrived he would sit down and stay silent. Madame de La Pommeraye would speak alone, and after a quarter of an hour or so the Marquis would get up and leave. After that he disappeared for maybe a month, at the end of which time he reappeared, but how sad, how melancholic, how dejected he looked. On seeing him like this, the Marquise said: ‘What are you doing here! Where have you come from? Have you been all this time in a bawdy-house, or what?’
MARQUIS
: My God, almost. My despair flung me into the most frightful debauchery.
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: What! Despair?
MARQUIS
: Yes, despair!…
At this point he started pacing up and down without saying a word. He went to the windows, looked out at the sky, stopped in front of Mme de La Pommeraye, went to the door, called his servants to whom he had nothing to say, sent them away again, came back in and came back to Mme de La Pommeraye, who was working and appeared not to notice. He wanted to say something but didn’t dare. At last Mme de La Pommeraye took pity on him and asked him: ‘What is the matter with you? We go a whole month without seeing you, and then you reappear with a face like a corpse and prowl around like a soul in torment.’
MARQUIS
: I cannot stand it any longer. I must tell you everything. I am struck to the quick by your friend’s daughter. I have tried everything, everything, to forget her, and the more I have tried the more I have remembered her. I am obsessed by this angelic creature. You must do me a great favour.
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: What?
MARQUIS
: I have to see her again and it must be through you. All my agents are in the field. The only thing the two women do is to go from their house to the church and from the church to their house. I have intercepted them on foot at least ten times and they have not even noticed me. I have waited at their door without success. At first their snubs made me debauched as a monk and then as devout as an angel. I haven’t missed Mass for a fortnight. Ah! My friend! What a face! She is so beautiful!
Madame de La Pommeraye already knew all this.
‘What you are telling me’, she replied to the Marquis, ‘is that, after you tried everything to get over it, you then tried everything likely to drive you wild with desire and succeeded in this.’
MARQUIS
: Succeeded! I could not begin to tell you quite how much. Will you not take pity on me? Shall I not be indebted to you for the joy of seeing her again?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: That will be difficult, but I will take care of it on one condition. That is that you leave these poor ladies in peace and stop tormenting them. I will not hide from you that they have written bitterly to me of your persecution. Here is their letter…
The letter which she gave the Marquis to read had been composed between the three women. It came as if from the daughter following her mother’s instructions and they had contrived to make it honest, sweet, touching, elegant and witty – in short everything that would touch the Marquis’ heart. So, on reading it he exclaimed at every word. There was not a sentence he didn’t read twice. He was crying with joy and said to Mme de La Pommeraye: ‘Admit it, Madame, one could not have written a letter better than that.’
‘I admit it.’
‘Every line fills me with admiration and respect for women of such character.’
‘That is as it should be.’
‘I will give you my word, only I beg you not to fail me on yours.’
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: In all truth, Marquis, I am as foolish as you are. You must have retained terrible powers over me. That frightens me.
MARQUIS
: When will I see her?
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: I don’t know. I must first find a way of arranging things without arousing suspicion. They can hardly be ignorant of your feelings.
Imagine how my complicity would appear in their eyes if they thought I was acting in concert with you… Marquis, between you and me, do I need to saddle myself with these problems? Does it matter to me whether you are in love or you are not in love, or whether you are delirious? Get out of your mess by yourself. The role you are asking me to play is too bizarre.
MARQUIS
: My friend, if you abandon me I am lost! I will not speak to you about myself since that will offend you. But I entreat you on behalf of those touching and worthy creatures who are so dear to you. You know me: spare them from the follies of which I am capable. I will go to their house, yes, I will go there, I warn you of it. I will break down their door, and force my way past them. I will sit down and I don’t know what I will say or do because I could do anything in the violent state I am in.
HOSTESS
: You will have noticed, Messieurs, that from the beginning of this story, up to this point, the Marquis des Arcis has not said one word which was not like a knife thrust into the heart of Mme de La Pommeraye. She was bursting with indignation and rage and when she replied it was in a trembling, broken voice:
MME DE LA POMMERAYE
: You are right. Ah! If only I had been loved like that, perhaps… But let’s not speak of that… It is not for you that I will do this thing, but I flatter myself, Monsieur le Marquis, that you will at least allow me time.
MARQUIS
: The least I can.
JACQUES
: Ah! Madame! What a devil of a woman! Lucifer himself cannot be worse. I am trembling. I’d better have a drink to steady me… You will not leave me to drink alone?
HOSTESS
: Well, I am not afraid… Madame de La Pommeraye said to herself: ‘I am suffering, but I will not suffer alone. Cruel man. I do not know how long my torments will last but I will make yours last for ever…’
She kept the Marquis waiting more than a month for the encounter she had promised. She left him all this time to suffer, to become more obsessed, and under the pretence of making the length of his waiting more tolerable she allowed him to speak to her of his passion.
MASTER
: And strengthen it in talking about it.
JACQUES
: What a woman! What a devil of a woman! Madame, my fears are mounting.
HOSTESS
: And so every day the Marquis would come and speak to Mme de La Pommeraye, who with her artful speeches succeeded in driving him to a peak of irritation, resolution and perdition. He found out about the birthplace, the education, the fortune and the misfortune of these two women. He came back to this all the time and never thought himself well
enough informed or touched enough by the story. The Marquise pointed out how his feelings were becoming deeper and stronger and under the pretext of frightening him gradually got him used to considering what would be the final outcome of this process.
‘Marquis,’ she said to him, ‘take great care for yourself. This passion will take you to great lengths. There may well come a day when my friendship which you now abuse so strangely, will not excuse me in your eyes, or in those of others. It is not as though even greater follies are not a daily occurrence. Marquis, I have grave suspicions that you will only obtain this girl on conditions which up to now have not been to your liking.’
When Mme de La Pommeraye believed the Marquis to be well set up for the successful completion of her plan, she arranged for the two women to come and have lunch at her house. She also arranged with the Marquis that he should come dressed for the country to put them off the scent. This was done.
They were on the second course when the Marquis was announced. The Marquis, Mme de La Pommeraye and the two d’Aisnons gave a convincing display of embarrassment.
‘Madame, I have just returned from my estates. It is too late for me to return to my home and I am not expected there until this evening. I flattered myself that you would not refuse to invite me to luncheon.’
While he was speaking he had taken a chair and sat down to table. The table had been set in such a way that he found himself next to the mother and opposite the daughter. He thanked Mme de La Pommeraye for this thoughtful gesture with a wink. After the confusion of the first moment the two devout ladies became more relaxed. They talked and even laughed. The Marquis was full of attention for the mother and maintained an attitude of very reserved politeness with the daughter. The scrupulousness of the Marquis to say and do nothing which might frighten them away gave the three women a great deal of secret amusement. They were inhuman enough to make him speak for three whole hours on matters of devotion. Madame de La Pommeraye said to him: ‘What you have been saying there is a marvellous tribute to your parents. One’s first lessons are never forgotten. You understand all the subtleties of divine love as if you had never read anything other than the writings of Saint Francis of Sales. You haven’t dabbled in quietism at some stage, have you?’
‘I really don’t remember any more.’
Needless to say, our two pious ladies made their conversation as graceful, witty, charming and sophisticated as they could. They touched in passing
upon the subject of the passions and Mlle Duquênoi (for that was her family name) maintained that there was only one dangerous passion. The Marquis was of the same opinion. Between six and seven o’clock the two ladies retired in spite of all efforts to make them stay. Madame de La Pommeraye maintained with Mme Duquênoi that one should always place duty first, otherwise one would hardly spend a day whose sweetness was not embittered by remorse. Eventually, to the great regret of the Marquis, they were gone, leaving the Marquis alone with Mme de La Pommeraye.