CHAPTER IX

AN EVENING IN THE COUNTRY

        M. Guerin's Dido, a charming sketch!--_Strombeck_.

His expression was singular when he saw Madame de Renal the next
day; he watched her like an enemy with whom he would have to fight a
duel. These looks, which were so different from those of the previous
evening, made Madame de Renal lose her head; she had been kind to him
and he appeared angry. She could not take her eyes off his.

Madame Derville's presence allowed Julien to devote less time to
conversation, and more time to thinking about what he had in his mind.
His one object all this day was to fortify himself by reading the
inspired book that gave strength to his soul.

He considerably curtailed the children's lessons, and when Madame de
Renal's presence had effectually brought him back to the pursuit of his
ambition, he decided that she absolutely must allow her hand to rest in
his that evening.

The setting of the sun which brought the crucial moment nearer and
nearer made Julien's heart beat in a strange way. Night came. He
noticed with a joy, which took an immense weight off his heart, that
it was going to be very dark. The sky, which was laden with big clouds
that had been brought along by a sultry wind, seemed to herald a storm.
The two friends went for their walk very late. All they did that night
struck Julien as strange. They were enjoying that hour which seems to
give certain refined souls an increased pleasure in loving.

At last they sat down, Madame de Renal beside Julien, and Madame
Derville near her friend. Engrossed as he was by the attempt which
he was going to make, Julien could think of nothing to say. The
conversation languished.

"Shall I be as nervous and miserable over my first duel?" said Julien
to himself; for he was too suspicious both of himself and of others,
not to realise his own mental state.

In his mortal anguish, he would have preferred any danger whatsoever.
How many times did he not wish some matter to crop up which would
necessitate Madame de Renal going into the house and leaving the
garden! The violent strain on Julien's nerves was too great for his
voice not to be considerably changed; soon Madame de Renal's voice
became nervous as well, but Julien did not notice it. The awful battle
raging between duty and timidity was too painful, for him to be in a
position to observe anything outside himself. A quarter to ten had
just struck on the chateau clock without his having ventured anything.
Julien was indignant at his own cowardice, and said to himself, "at
the exact moment when ten o'clock strikes, I will perform what I have
resolved to do all through the day, or I will go up to my room and blow
out my brains."

After a final moment of expectation and anxiety, during which Julien
was rendered almost beside himself by his excessive emotion, ten
o'clock struck from the clock over his head. Each stroke of the fatal
clock reverberated in his bosom, and caused an almost physical pang.

Finally, when the last stroke of ten was still reverberating, he
stretched out his hand and took Madame de Renal's, who immediately
withdrew it. Julien, scarcely knowing what he was doing, seized it
again. In spite of his own excitement, he could not help being struck
by the icy coldness of the hand which he was taking; he pressed it
convulsively; a last effort was made to take it away, but in the end
the hand remained in his.

His soul was inundated with happiness, not that he loved Madame de
Renal, but an awful torture had just ended. He thought it necessary
to say something, to avoid Madame Derville noticing anything. His
voice was now strong and ringing. Madame de Renal's, on the contrary,
betrayed so much emotion that her friend thought she was ill, and
suggested her going in. Julien scented danger, "if Madame de Renal goes
back to the salon, I shall relapse into the awful state in which I have
been all day. I have held the hand far too short a time for it really
to count as the scoring of an actual advantage."

At the moment when Madame Derville was repeating her suggestion to
go back to the salon, Julien squeezed vigorously the hand that was
abandoned to him.

Madame de Renal, who had started to get up, sat down again and said in
a faint voice,

"I feel a little ill, as a matter of fact, but the open air is doing me
good."

These words confirmed Julien's happiness, which at the present moment
was extreme; he spoke, he forgot to pose, and appeared the most
charming man in the world to the two friends who were listening to him.
Nevertheless, there was a slight lack of courage in all this eloquence
which had suddenly come upon him. He was mortally afraid that Madame
Derville would get tired of the wind before the storm, which was
beginning to rise, and want to go back alone into the salon. He would
then have remained _tete-a-tete_ with Madame de Renal. He had had,
almost by accident that blind courage which is sufficient for action;
but he felt that it was out of his power to speak the simplest word to
Madame de Renal. He was certain that, however slight her reproaches
might be, he would nevertheless be worsted, and that the advantage he
had just won would be destroyed.

Luckily for him on this evening, his moving and emphatic speeches found
favour with Madame Derville, who very often found him as clumsy as a
child and not at all amusing. As for Madame de Renal, with her hand in
Julien's, she did not have a thought; she simply allowed herself to go
on living.

The hours spent under this great pine tree, planted by by Charles the
Bold according to the local tradition, were a real period of happiness.
She listened with delight to the soughing of the wind in the thick
foliage of the pine tree and to the noise of some stray drops which
were beginning to fall upon the leaves which were lowest down. Julien
failed to notice one circumstance which, if he had, would have quickly
reassured him; Madame de Renal, who had been obliged to take away her
hand, because she had got up to help her cousin to pick up a flower-pot
which the wind had knocked over at her feet, had scarcely sat down
again before she gave him her hand with scarcely any difficulty and as
though it had already been a pre-arranged thing between them.

Midnight had struck a long time ago; it was at last necessary to leave
the garden; they separated. Madame de Renal swept away as she was, by
the happiness of loving, was so completely ignorant of the world that
she scarcely reproached herself at all. Her happiness deprived her of
her sleep. A leaden sleep overwhelmed Julien who was mortally fatigued
by the battle which timidity and pride had waged in his heart all
through the day.

He was called at five o'clock on the following day and scarcely gave
Madame de Renal a single thought.

He had accomplished his duty, and a heroic duty too. The consciousness
of this filled him with happiness; he locked himself in his room, and
abandoned himself with quite a new pleasure to reading exploits of his
hero.

When the breakfast bell sounded, the reading of the Bulletins of the
Great Army had made him forget all his advantages of the previous day.
He said to himself flippantly, as he went down to the salon, "I must
tell that woman that I am in love with her." Instead of those looks
brimful of pleasure which he was expecting to meet, he found the stern
visage of M. de Renal, who had arrived from Verrieres two hours ago,
and did not conceal his dissatisfaction at Julien's having passed the
whole morning without attending to the children. Nothing could have
been more sordid than this self-important man when he was in a bad
temper and thought that he could safely show it.

Each harsh word of her husband pierced Madame de Renal's heart.

As for Julien, he was so plunged in his ecstasy, and still so engrossed
by the great events which had been passing before his eyes for several
hours, that he had some difficulty at first in bringing his attention
sufficiently down to listen to the harsh remarks which M. de Renal was
addressing to him. He said to him at last, rather abruptly,

"I was ill."

The tone of this answer would have stung a much less sensitive man than
the mayor of Verrieres. He half thought of answering Julien by turning
him out of the house straight away. He was only restrained by the
maxim which he had prescribed for himself, of never hurrying unduly in
business matters.

"The young fool," he said to himself shortly afterwards, "has won a
kind of reputation in my house. That man Valenod may take him into his
family, or he may quite well marry Elisa, and in either case, he will
be able to have the laugh of me in his heart."

In spite of the wisdom of these reflections, M. de Renal's
dissatisfaction did not fail to vent itself any the less by a string
of coarse insults which gradually irritated Julien. Madame de Renal
was on the point of bursting into tears. Breakfast was scarcely over,
when she asked Julien to give her his arm for a walk. She leaned on him
affectionately. Julien could only answer all that Madame de Renal said
to him by whispering.

"_That's what rich people are like!_"

M. de Renal was walking quite close to them; his presence increased
Julien's anger. He suddenly noticed that Madame de Renal was leaning on
his arm in a manner which was somewhat marked. This horrified him, and
he pushed her violently away and disengaged his arm.

Luckily, M. de Renal did not see this new piece of impertinence; it was
only noticed by Madame Derville. Her friend burst into tears. M. de
Renal now started to chase away by a shower of stones a little peasant
girl who had taken a private path crossing a corner of the orchard.
"Monsieur Julien, restrain yourself, I pray you. Remember that we all
have our moments of temper," said madame Derville rapidly.

Julien looked at her coldly with eyes in which the most supreme
contempt was depicted.

This look astonished Madame Derville, and it would have surprised
her even more if she had appreciated its real expression; she would
have read in it something like a vague hope of the most atrocious
vengeance. It is, no doubt, such moments of humiliation which have made
Robespierres.

"Your Julien is very violent; he frightens me," said Madame Derville to
her friend, in a low voice.

"He is right to be angry," she answered. "What does it matter if
he does pass a morning without speaking to the children, after the
astonishing progress which he has made them make. One must admit that
men are very hard."

For the first time in her life Madame de Renal experienced a kind
of desire for vengeance against her husband. The extreme hatred of
the rich by which Julien was animated was on the point of exploding.
Luckily, M. de Renal called his gardener, and remained occupied
with him in barring by faggots of thorns the private road through
the orchard. Julien did not vouchsafe any answer to the kindly
consideration of which he was the object during all the rest of the
walk. M. de Renal had scarcely gone away before the two friends made
the excuse of being fatigued, and each asked him for an arm.

Walking as he did between these two women whose extreme nervousness
filled their cheeks with a blushing embarrassment, the haughty pallor
and sombre, resolute air of Julien formed a strange contrast. He
despised these women and all tender sentiments.

"What!" he said to himself, "not even an income of five hundred francs
to finish my studies! Ah! how I should like to send them packing."

And absorbed as he was by these stern ideas, such few courteous words
of his two friends as he deigned to take the trouble to understand,
displeased him as devoid of sense, silly, feeble, in a word--feminine.

As the result of speaking for the sake of speaking and of endeavouring
to keep the conversation alive, it came about that Madame de Renal
mentioned that her husband had come from Verrieres because he had made
a bargain for the May straw with one of his farmers. (In this district
it is the May straw with which the bed mattresses are filled).

"My husband will not rejoin us," added Madame de Renal; "he will occupy
himself with finishing the re-stuffing of the house mattresses with
the help of the gardener and his valet. He has put the May straw this
morning in all the beds on the first storey; he is now at the second."

Julien changed colour. He looked at Madame de Renal in a singular way,
and soon managed somehow to take her on one side, doubling his pace.
Madame Derville allowed them to get ahead.

"Save my life," said Julien to Madame de Renal; "only you can do it,
for you know that the valet hates me desperately. I must confess to
you, madame, that I have a portrait. I have hidden it in the mattress
of my bed."

At these words Madame de Renal in her turn became pale.

"Only you, Madame, are able at this moment to go into my room, feel
about without their noticing in the corner of the mattress; it
is nearest the window. You will find a small, round box of black
cardboard, very glossy."

"Does it contain a portrait?" said Madame de Renal, scarcely able to
hold herself upright.

Julien noticed her air of discouragement, and at once proceeded to
exploit it.

"I have a second favour to ask you, madame. I entreat you not to look
at that portrait; it is my secret."

"It is a secret," repeated Madame de Renal in a faint voice.

But though she had been brought up among people who are proud of their
fortune and appreciative of nothing except money, love had already
instilled generosity into her soul. Truly wounded as she was, it was
with an air of the most simple devotion that Madame de Renal asked
Julien the questions necessary to enable her to fulfil her commission.

"So" she said to him as she went away, "it is a little round box of
black cardboard, very glossy."

"Yes, Madame," answered Julien, with that hardness which danger gives
to men.

She ascended the second storey of the chateau as pale as though she had
been going to her death. Her misery was completed by the sensation that
she was on the verge of falling ill, but the necessity of doing Julien
a service restored her strength.

"I must have that box," she said to herself, as she doubled her pace.

She heard her husband speaking to the valet in Julien's very room.
Happily, they passed into the children's room. She lifted up the
mattress, and plunged her hand into the stuffing so violently that she
bruised her fingers. But, though she was very sensitive to slight pain
of this kind, she was not conscious of it now, for she felt almost
simultaneously the smooth surface of the cardboard box. She seized it
and disappeared.

She had scarcely recovered from the fear of being surprised by her
husband than the horror with which this box inspired her came within an
ace of positively making her feel ill.

"So Julien is in love, and I hold here the portrait of the woman whom
he loves!"

Seated on the chair in the ante-chamber of his apartment, Madame
de Renal fell a prey to all the horrors of jealousy. Her extreme
ignorance, moreover, was useful to her at this juncture; her
astonishment mitigated her grief. Julien seized the box without
thanking her or saying a single word, and ran into his room, where
he lit a fire and immediately burnt it. He was pale and in a state
of collapse. He exaggerated the extent of the danger which he had
undergone.

"Finding Napoleon's portrait," he said to himself, "in the possession
of a man who professes so great a hate for the usurper! Found, too,
by M. de Renal, who is so great an _ultra_, and is now in a state of
irritation, and, to complete my imprudence, lines written in my own
handwriting on the white cardboard behind the portrait, lines, too,
which can leave no doubt on the score of my excessive admiration. And
each of these transports of love is dated. There was one the day before
yesterday."

"All my reputation collapsed and shattered in a moment," said Julien
to himself as he watched the box burn, "and my reputation is my only
asset. It is all I have to live by--and what a life to, by heaven!"

An hour afterwards, this fatigue, together with the pity which he felt
for himself made him inclined to be more tender. He met Madame de Renal
and took her hand, which he kissed with more sincerity than he had
ever done before. She blushed with happiness and almost simultaneously
rebuffed Julien with all the anger of jealousy. Julien's pride which
had been so recently wounded made him act foolishly at this juncture.
He saw in Madame de Renal nothing but a rich woman, he disdainfully let
her hand fall and went away. He went and walked about meditatively in
the garden. Soon a bitter smile appeared on his lips.

"Here I am walking about as serenely as a man who is master of his own
time. I am not bothering about the children! I am exposing myself to M.
de Renal's humiliating remarks, and he will be quite right." He ran to
the children's room. The caresses of the youngest child, whom he loved
very much, somewhat calmed his agony.

"He does not despise me yet," thought Julien. But he soon reproached
himself for this alleviation of his agony as though it were a new
weakness. The children caress me just in the same way in which they
would caress the young hunting-hound which was bought yesterday.

CHAPTER X

A GREAT HEART AND A SMALL FORTUNE

    But passion most disembles, yet betrays,
    Even by its darkness, as the blackest sky
    Foretells the heaviest tempest.
                           _Don Juan_, c. 4, st. 75.

M. De Renal was going through all the rooms in the chateau, and he came
back into the children's room with the servants who were bringing back
the stuffings of the mattresses. The sudden entry of this man had the
effect on Julien of the drop of water which makes the pot overflow.

Looking paler and more sinister than usual, he rushed towards him. M.
de Renal stopped and looked at his servants.

"Monsieur," said Julien to him, "Do you think your children would have
made the progress they have made with me with any other tutor? If you
answer 'No,'" continued Julien so quickly that M. de Renal did not have
time to speak, "how dare you reproach me with neglecting them?"

M. de Renal, who had scarcely recovered from his fright, concluded from
the strange tone he saw this little peasant assume, that he had some
advantageous offer in his pocket, and that he was going to leave him.

The more he spoke the more Julien's anger increased, "I can live
without you, Monsieur," he added.

"I am really sorry to see you so upset," answered M. de Renal
shuddering a little. The servants were ten yards off engaged in making
the beds.

"That is not what I mean, Monsieur," replied Julien quite beside
himself. "Think of the infamous words that you have addressed to me,
and before women too."

M. de Renal understood only too well what Julien was asking, and a
painful conflict tore his soul. It happened that Julien, who was really
mad with rage, cried out,

"I know where to go, Monsieur, when I leave your house."

At these words M. de Renal saw Julien installed with M. Valenod. "Well,
sir," he said at last with a sigh, just as though he had called in
a surgeon to perform the most painful operation, "I accede to your
request. I will give you fifty francs a month. Starting from the day
after to-morrow which is the first of the month."

Julien wanted to laugh, and stood there dumbfounded. All his anger had
vanished.

"I do not despise the brute enough," he said to himself. "I have no
doubt that that is the greatest apology that so base a soul can make."

The children who had listened to this scene with gaping mouths, ran
into the garden to tell their mother that M. Julien was very angry, but
that he was going to have fifty francs a month.

Julien followed them as a matter of habit without even looking at M. de
Renal whom he left in a considerable state of irritation.

"That makes one hundred and sixty-eight francs," said the mayor to
himself, "that M. Valenod has cost me. I must absolutely speak a few
strong words to him about his contract to provide for the foundlings."

A minute afterwards Julien found himself opposite M. de Renal.

"I want to speak to M. Chelan on a matter of conscience. I have the
honour to inform you that I shall be absent some hours."

"Why, my dear Julien," said M. de Renal smiling with the falsest
expression possible, "take the whole day, and to-morrow too if you
like, my good friend. Take the gardener's horse to go to Verrieres."

"He is on the very point," said M. de Renal to himself, "of giving an
answer to Valenod. He has promised me nothing, but I must let this
hot-headed young man have time to cool down."

Julien quickly went away, and went up into the great forest, through
which one can manage to get from Vergy to Verrieres. He did not wish
to arrive at M. Chelan's at once. Far from wishing to cramp himself in
a new pose of hypocrisy he needed to see clear in his own soul, and to
give audience to the crowd of sentiments which were agitating him.

"I have won a battle," he said to himself, as soon as he saw that he
was well in the forest, and far from all human gaze. "So I have won a
battle."

This expression shed a rosy light on his situation, and restored him to
some serenity.

"Here I am with a salary of fifty francs a month, M. de Renal must be
precious afraid, but what of?"

This meditation about what could have put fear into the heart of that
happy, powerful man against whom he had been boiling with rage only
an hour back, completed the restoration to serenity of Julien's soul.
He was almost able to enjoy for a moment the delightful beauty of the
woods amidst which he was walking. Enormous blocks of bare rocks had
fallen down long ago in the middle of the forest by the mountain side.
Great cedars towered almost as high as these rocks whose shade caused a
delicious freshness within three yards of places where the heat of the
sun's rays would have made it impossible to rest.

Julien took breath for a moment in the shade of these great rocks,
and then he began again to climb. Traversing a narrow path that was
scarcely marked, and was only used by the goat herds, he soon found
himself standing upon an immense rock with the complete certainty of
being far away from all mankind. This physical position made him smile.
It symbolised to him the position he was burning to attain in the moral
sphere. The pure air of these lovely mountains filled his soul with
serenity and even with joy. The mayor of Verrieres still continued to
typify in his eyes all the wealth and all the arrogance of the earth;
but Julien felt that the hatred that had just thrilled him had nothing
personal about it in spite of all the violence which he had manifested.
If he had left off seeing M. de Renal he would in eight days have
forgotten him, his castle, his dogs, his children and all his family.
"I forced him, I don't know how, to make the greatest sacrifice. What?
more than fifty crowns a year, and only a minute before I managed to
extricate myself from the greatest danger; so there are two victories
in one day. The second one is devoid of merit, I must find out the why
and the wherefore. But these laborious researches are for to-morrow."

Standing up on his great rock, Julien looked at the sky which was all
afire with an August sun. The grasshoppers sang in the field about the
rock; when they held their peace there was universal silence around
him. He saw twenty leagues of country at his feet. He noticed from
time to time some hawk, which launching off from the great rocks over
his head was describing in silence its immense circles. Julien's eye
followed the bird of prey mechanically. Its tranquil powerful movements
struck him. He envied that strength, that isolation.

"Would Napoleon's destiny be one day his?"

CHAPTER XI

AN EVENING

    Yet Julia's very coldness still was kind,
    And tremulously gently her small hand
    Withdrew itself from his, but left behind
    A little pressure, thrilling, and so bland,
    And slight, so very slight that to the mind,
    'Twas but a doubt.
                        _Don Juan_, c. I. st, 71.

It was necessary, however, to put in an appearance at Verrieres. As
Julien left the cure house he was fortunate enough to meet M. Valenod,
whom he hastened to tell of the increase in his salary.

On returning to Vergy, Julien waited till night had fallen before going
down into the garden. His soul was fatigued by the great number of
violent emotions which had agitated him during the day. "What shall I
say to them?" he reflected anxiously, as he thought about the ladies.
He was far from realising that his soul was just in a mood to discuss
those trivial circumstances which usually monopolise all feminine
interests. Julien was often unintelligible to Madame Derville, and even
to her friend, and he in his turn only half understood all that they
said to him. Such was the effect of the force and, if I may venture to
use such language, the greatness of the transports of passion which
overwhelmed the soul of this ambitious youth. In this singular being it
was storm nearly every day.

As he entered the garden this evening, Julien was inclined to take an
interest in what the pretty cousins were thinking. They were waiting
for him impatiently. He took his accustomed seat next to Madame de
Renal. The darkness soon became profound. He attempted to take hold of
a white hand which he had seen some time near him, as it leant on the
back of a chair. Some hesitation was shewn, but eventually the hand was
withdrawn in a manner which indicated displeasure. Julien was inclined
to give up the attempt as a bad job, and to continue his conversation
quite gaily, when he heard M. de Renal approaching.

The coarse words he had uttered in the morning were still ringing in
Julien's ears. "Would not taking possession of his wife's hand in his
very presence," he said to himself, "be a good way of scoring off that
creature who has all that life can give him. Yes! I will do it. I, the
very man for whom he has evidenced so great a contempt."

From that moment the tranquillity which was so alien to Julien's real
character quickly disappeared. He was obsessed by an anxious desire
that Madame de Renal should abandon her hand to him.

M. de Renal was talking politics with vehemence; two or three
commercial men in Verrieres had been growing distinctly richer than he
was, and were going to annoy him over the elections. Madame Derville
was listening to him. Irritated by these tirades, Julien brought his
chair nearer Madame de Renal. All his movements were concealed by the
darkness. He dared to put his hand very near to the pretty arm which
was left uncovered by the dress. He was troubled and had lost control
of his mind. He brought his face near to that pretty arm and dared to
put his lips on it.

Madame de Renal shuddered. Her husband was four paces away. She
hastened to give her hand to Julien, and at the same time to push him
back a little. As M. de Renal was continuing his insults against those
ne'er-do-wells and Jacobins who were growing so rich, Julien covered
the hand which had been abandoned to him with kisses, which were either
really passionate or at any rate seemed so to Madame de Renal. But
the poor woman had already had the proofs on that same fatal day that
the man whom she adored, without owning it to herself, loved another!
During the whole time Julien had been absent she had been the prey to
an extreme unhappiness which had made her reflect.

"What," she said to herself, "Am I going to love, am I going to be in
love? Am I, a married woman, going to fall in love? But," she said to
herself, "I have never felt for my husband this dark madness, which
never permits of my keeping Julien out of my thoughts. After all, he
is only a child who is full of respect for me. This madness will be
fleeting. In what way do the sentiments which I may have for this young
man concern my husband? M. de Renal would be bored by the conversations
which I have with Julien on imaginative subjects. As for him, he simply
thinks of his business. I am not taking anything away from him to give
to Julien."

No hypocrisy had sullied the purity of that naive soul, now swept away
by a passion such as it had never felt before. She deceived herself,
but without knowing it. But none the less, a certain instinct of virtue
was alarmed. Such were the combats which were agitating her when
Julien appeared in the garden. She heard him speak and almost at the
same moment she saw him sit down by her side. Her soul was as it were
transported by this charming happiness which had for the last fortnight
surprised her even more than it had allured. Everything was novel for
her. None the less, she said to herself after some moments, "the mere
presence of Julien is quite enough to blot out all his wrongs." She was
frightened; it was then that she took away her hand.

His passionate kisses, the like of which she had never received before,
made her forget that perhaps he loved another woman. Soon he was no
longer guilty in her eyes. The cessation of that poignant pain which
suspicion had engendered and the presence of a happiness that she had
never even dreamt of, gave her ecstasies of love and of mad gaiety.
The evening was charming for everyone, except the mayor of Verrieres,
who was unable to forget his _parvenu_ manufacturers. Julien left off
thinking about his black ambition, or about those plans of his which
were so difficult to accomplish. For the first time in his life he was
led away by the power of beauty. Lost in a sweetly vague reverie, quite
alien to his character, and softly pressing that hand, which he thought
ideally pretty, he half listened to the rustle of the leaves of the
pine trees, swept by the light night breeze, and to the dogs of the
mill on the Doubs, who barked in the distance.

But this emotion was one of pleasure and not passion. As he entered his
room, he only thought of one happiness, that of taking up again his
favourite book. When one is twenty the idea of the world and the figure
to be cut in it dominate everything.

He soon, however, laid down the book. As the result of thinking of the
victories of Napoleon, he had seen a new element in his own victory.
"Yes," he said to himself, "I have won a battle. I must exploit it. I
must crush the pride of that proud gentleman while he is in retreat.
That would be real Napoleon. I must ask him for three days' holiday to
go and see my friend Fouque. If he refuses me I will threaten to give
him notice, but he will yield the point."

Madame de Renal could not sleep a wink. It seemed as though, until this
moment, she had never lived. She was unable to distract her thoughts
from the happiness of feeling Julian cover her hand with his burning
kisses.

Suddenly the awful word adultery came into her mind. All the
loathesomeness with which the vilest debauchery can invest sensual love
presented itself to her imagination. These ideas essayed to pollute the
divinely tender image which she was fashioning of Julien, and of the
happiness of loving him. The future began to be painted in terrible
colours. She began to regard herself as contemptible.

That moment was awful. Her soul was arriving in unknown countries.
During the evening she had tasted a novel happiness. Now she found
herself suddenly plunged in an atrocious unhappiness. She had never
had any idea of such sufferings; they troubled her reason. She thought
for a moment of confessing to her husband that she was apprehensive
of loving Julien. It would be an opportunity of speaking of him.
Fortunately her memory threw up a maxim which her aunt had once given
her on the eve of her marriage. The maxim dealt with the danger of
making confidences to a husband, for a husband is after all a master.
She wrung her hands in the excess of her grief. She was driven this way
and that by clashing and painful ideas. At one moment she feared that
she was not loved. The next the awful idea of crime tortured her, as
much as if she had to be exposed in the pillory on the following day in
the public square of Verrieres, with a placard to explain her adultery
to the populace.

Madame de Renal had no experience of life. Even in the full possession
of her faculties, and when fully exercising her reason, she would never
have appreciated any distinction between being guilty in the eyes of
God, and finding herself publicly overwhelmed with the crudest marks of
universal contempt.

When the awful idea of adultery, and of all the disgrace which in her
view that crime brought in its train, left her some rest, she began to
dream of the sweetness of living innocently with Julien as in the days
that had gone by.

She found herself confronted with the horrible idea that Julien loved
another woman. She still saw his pallor when he had feared to lose
her portrait, or to compromise her by exposing it to view. For the
first time she had caught fear on that tranquil and noble visage. He
had never shewn such emotion to her or her children. This additional
anguish reached the maximum of unhappiness which the human soul is
capable of enduring. Unconsciously, Madame de Renal uttered cries which
woke up her maid. Suddenly she saw the brightness of a light appear
near her bed, and recognized Elisa. "Is it you he loves?" she exclaimed
in her delirium.

Fortunately, the maid was so astonished by the terrible trouble in
which she found her mistress that she paid no attention to this
singular expression. Madame de Renal appreciated her imprudence.
"I have the fever," she said to her, "and I think I am a little
delirious." Completely woken up by the necessity of controlling
herself, she became less unhappy. Reason regained that supreme control
which the semi-somnolent state had taken away. To free herself from her
maid's continual stare, she ordered her maid to read the paper, and
it was as she listened to the monotonous voice of this girl, reading
a long article from the _Quotidienne_ that Madame de Renal made the
virtuous resolution to treat Julien with absolute coldness when she saw
him again.

CHAPTER XII

A JOURNEY

        Elegant people are to be found in Paris. People of
        character may exist in the provinces.--Sieyes

At five o'clock the following day, before Madame de Renal was visible,
Julien obtained a three days' holiday from her husband. Contrary to his
expectation Julien found himself desirous of seeing her again. He kept
thinking of that pretty hand of hers. He went down into the garden, but
Madame de Renal kept him waiting for a long time. But if Julien had
loved her, he would have seen her forehead glued to the pane behind the
half-closed blinds on the first floor. She was looking at him. Finally,
in spite of her resolutions, she decided to go into the garden. Her
habitual pallor had been succeeded by more lively hues. This woman,
simple as she was, was manifestly agitated; a sentiment of constraint,
and even of anger, altered that expression of profound serenity which
seemed, as it were, to be above all the vulgar interests of life and
gave so much charm to that divine face.

Julien approached her with eagerness, admiring those beautiful arms
which were just visible through a hastily donned shawl. The freshness
of the morning air seemed to accentuate still more the brilliance of
her complexion which the agitation of the past night rendered all the
more susceptible to all impressions. This demure and pathetic beauty,
which was, at the same time, full of thoughts which are never found in
the inferior classes, seemed to reveal to Julien a faculty in his own
soul which he had never before realised. Engrossed in his admiration of
the charms on which his his greedy gaze was riveted, Julien took for
granted the friendly welcome which he was expecting to receive. He was
all the more astonished at the icy coldness which she endeavoured to
manifest to him, and through which he thought he could even distinguish
the intention of putting him in his place.

The smile of pleasure died away from his lips as he remembered his
rank in society, especially from the point of view of a rich and noble
heiress. In a single moment his face exhibited nothing but haughtiness
and anger against himself. He felt violently disgusted that he could
have put off his departure for more than an hour, simply to receive so
humiliating a welcome.

"It is only a fool," he said to himself, "who is angry with others; a
stone falls because it is heavy. Am I going to be a child all my life?
How on earth is it that I manage to contract the charming habit of
showing my real self to those people simply in return for their money?
If I want to win their respect and that of my own self, I must shew
them that it is simply a business transaction between my poverty and
their wealth, but that my heart is a thousand leagues away from their
insolence, and is situated in too high a sphere to be affected by their
petty marks of favour or disdain."

While these feelings were crowding the soul of the young tutor, his
mobile features assumed an expression of ferocity and injured pride.
Madame de Renal was extremely troubled. The virtuous coldness that she
had meant to put into her welcome was succeeded by an expression of
interest--an interest animated by all the surprise brought about by
the sudden change which she had just seen. The empty morning platitudes
about their health and the fineness of the day suddenly dried up.
Julien's judgment was disturbed by no passion, and he soon found a
means of manifesting to Madame de Renal how light was the friendly
relationship that he considered existed between them. He said nothing
to her about the little journey that he was going to make; saluted her,
and went away.

As she watched him go, she was overwhelmed by the sombre haughtiness
which she read in that look which had been so gracious the previous
evening. Her eldest son ran up from the bottom of the garden, and said
as he kissed her,

"We have a holiday, M. Julien is going on a journey."

At these words, Madame de Renal felt seized by a deadly coldness. She
was unhappy by reason of her virtue, and even more unhappy by reason of
her weakness.

This new event engrossed her imagination, and she was transported far
beyond the good resolutions which she owed to the awful night she had
just passed. It was not now a question of resisting that charming
lover, but of losing him for ever.

It was necessary to appear at breakfast. To complete her anguish, M. de
Renal and Madame Derville talked of nothing but Julien's departure. The
mayor of Verrieres had noticed something unusual in the firm tone in
which he had asked for a holiday.

"That little peasant has no doubt got somebody else's offer up his
sleeve, but that somebody else, even though it's M. Valenod, is bound
to be a little discouraged by the sum of six hundred francs, which the
annual salary now tots up to. He must have asked yesterday at Verrieres
for a period of three days to think it over, and our little gentleman
runs off to the mountains this morning so as not to be obliged to give
me an answer. Think of having to reckon with a wretched workman who
puts on airs, but that's what we've come to."

"If my husband, who does not know how deeply he has wounded Julien,
thinks that he will leave us, what can I think myself?" said Madame de
Renal to herself. "Yes, that is all decided." In order to be able at
any rate to be free to cry, and to avoid answering Madame Derville's
questions, she pleaded an awful headache, and went to bed.

"That's what women are," repeated M. de Renal, "there is always
something out of order in those complicated machines," and he went off
jeering.

While Madame de Renal was a prey to all the poignancy of the terrible
passion in which chance had involved her, Julien went merrily on his
way, surrounded by the most beautiful views that mountain scenery
can offer. He had to cross the great chain north of Vergy. The path
which he followed rose gradually among the big beech woods, and ran
into infinite spirals on the slope of the high mountain which forms
the northern boundary of the Doubs valley. Soon the traveller's view,
as he passed over the lower slopes bounding the course of the Doubs
towards the south, extends as far as the fertile plains of Burgundy and
Beaujolais. However insensible was the soul of this ambitious youth to
this kind of beauty, he could not help stopping from time to time to
look at a spectacle at once so vast and so impressive.

Finally, he reached the summit of the great mountain, near which
he had to pass in order to arrive by this cross-country route at
the solitary valley where lived his friend Fouque, the young wood
merchant. Julien was in no hurry to see him; either him, or any other
human being. Hidden like a bird of prey amid the bare rocks which
crowned the great mountain, he could see a long way off anyone coming
near him. He discovered a little grotto in the middle of the almost
vertical slope of one of the rocks. He found a way to it, and was soon
ensconced in this retreat. "Here," he said, "with eyes brilliant with
joy, men cannot hurt me." It occurred to him to indulge in the pleasure
of writing down those thoughts of his which were so dangerous to him
everywhere else. A square stone served him for a desk; his pen flew. He
saw nothing of what was around him. He noticed at last that the sun was
setting behind the distant mountains of Beaujolais.

"Why shouldn't I pass the night here?" he said to himself. "I have
bread, and I am free." He felt a spiritual exultation at the sound of
that great word. The necessity of playing the hypocrite resulted in his
not being free, even at Fouque's. Leaning his head on his two hands,
Julien stayed in the grotto, more happy than he had ever been in his
life, thrilled by his dreams, and by the bliss of his freedom. Without
realising it, he saw all the rays of the twilight become successively
extinguished. Surrounded by this immense obscurity, his soul wandered
into the contemplation of what he imagined that he would one day meet
in Paris. First it was a woman, much more beautiful and possessed of a
much more refined temperament than anything he could have found in the
provinces. He loved with passion, and was loved. If he separated from
her for some instants, it was only to cover himself with glory, and to
deserve to be loved still more.

A young man brought up in the environment of the sad truths of Paris
society, would, on reaching this point in his romance, even if we
assume him possessed of Julien's imagination, have been brought back
to himself by the cold irony of the situation. Great deeds would have
disappeared from out his ken together with hope of achieving them and
have been succeeded by the platitude. "If one leave one's mistress
one runs alas! the risk of being deceived two or three times a day."
But the young peasant saw nothing but the lack of opportunity between
himself and the most heroic feats.

But a deep night had succeeded the day, and there were still two
leagues to walk before he could descend to the cabin in which Fouque
lived. Before leaving the little cave, Julien made a light and
carefully burnt all that he had written. He quite astonished his friend
when he knocked at his door at one o'clock in the morning. He found
Fouque engaged in making up his accounts. He was a young man of high
stature, rather badly made, with big, hard features, a never-ending
nose, and a large fund of good nature concealed beneath this repulsive
appearance.

"Have you quarelled with M. de Renal then that you turn up unexpectedly
like this?" Julien told him, but in a suitable way, the events of the
previous day.

"Stay with me," said Fouque to him. "I see that you know M. de Renal,
M. Valenod, the sub-prefect Maugron, the cure Chelan. You have
understood the subtleties of the character of those people. So there
you are then, quite qualified to attend auctions. You know arithmetic
better than I do; you will keep my accounts; I make a lot in my
business. The impossibility of doing everything myself, and the fear
of taking a rascal for my partner prevents me daily from undertaking
excellent business. It's scarcely a month since I put Michaud de
Saint-Amand, whom I haven't seen for six years, and whom I ran across
at the sale at Pontarlier in the way of making six thousand francs. Why
shouldn't it have been you who made those six thousand francs, or at
any rate three thousand. For if I had had you with me that day, I would
have raised the bidding for that lot of timber and everybody else would
soon have run away. Be my partner."

This offer upset Julien. It spoilt the train of his mad dreams. Fouque
showed his accounts to Julien during the whole of the supper--which the
two friends prepared themselves like the Homeric heroes (for Fouque
lived alone) and proved to him all the advantages offered by his timber
business. Fouque had the highest opinion of the gifts and character of
Julien.

When, finally, the latter was alone in his little room of pinewood, he
said to himself: "It is true I can make some thousands of francs here
and then take up with advantage the profession of a soldier, or of a
priest, according to the fashion then prevalent in France. The little
hoard that I shall have amassed will remove all petty difficulties. In
the solitude of this mountain I shall have dissipated to some extent my
awful ignorance of so many of the things which make up the life of all
those men of fashion. But Fouque has given up all thoughts of marriage,
and at the same time keeps telling me that solitude makes him unhappy.
It is clear that if he takes a partner who has no capital to put into
his business, he does so in the hopes of getting a companion who will
never leave him."

"Shall I deceive my friend," exclaimed Julien petulantly. This being
who found hypocrisy and complete callousness his ordinary means of
self-preservation could not, on this occasion, endure the idea of the
slightest lack of delicate feeling towards a man whom he loved.

But suddenly Julien was happy. He had a reason for a refusal. What!
Shall I be coward enough to waste seven or eight years. I shall get to
twenty-eight in that way! But at that age Bonaparte had achieved his
greatest feats. When I shall have made in obscurity a little money by
frequenting timber sales, and earning the good graces of some rascally
under-strappers who will guarantee that I shall still have the sacred
fire with which one makes a name for oneself?

The following morning, Julien with considerable sangfroid, said in
answer to the good Fouque, who regarded the matter of the partnership
as settled, that his vocation for the holy ministry of the altars would
not permit him to accept it. Fouque did not return to the subject.

"But just think," he repeated to him, "I'll make you my partner, or if
you prefer it, I'll give you four thousand francs a year, and you want
to return to that M. de Renal of yours, who despises you like the mud
on his shoes. When you have got two hundred louis in front of you, what
is to prevent you from entering the seminary? I'll go further: I will
undertake to procure for you the best living in the district, for,"
added Fouque, lowering his voice, I supply firewood to M. le ----, M.
le ----, M. ----. I provide them with first quality oak, but they only
pay me for plain wood, but never was money better invested.

Nothing could conquer Julien's vocation. Fouque finished by thinking
him a little mad. The third day, in the early morning, Julien left his
friend, and passed the day amongst the rocks of the great mountain. He
found his little cave again, but he had no longer peace of mind. His
friend's offers had robbed him of it. He found himself, not between
vice and virtue, like Hercules, but between mediocrity coupled with
an assured prosperity, and all the heroic dreams of his youth. "So I
have not got real determination after all," he said to himself, and it
was his doubt on this score which pained him the most. "I am not of
the stuff of which great men are made, because I fear that eight years
spent in earning a livelihood will deprive me of that sublime energy
which inspires the accomplishment of extraordinary feats."

CHAPTER XIII

THE OPEN WORK STOCKINGS

        A novel: a mirror which one takes out on one's walk
        along the high road.--_Saint-Real_.

When Julien perceived the picturesque ruins of the old church at Vergy,
he noticed that he had not given a single thought to Madame de Renal
since the day before yesterday. The other day, when I took my leave,
that woman made me realise the infinite distance which separated us;
she treated me like a labourer's son. No doubt she wished to signify
her repentance for having allowed me to hold her hand the evening
before.

... It is, however very pretty, is that hand. What a charm, what a
nobility is there in that woman's expression!

The possibility of making a fortune with Fouque gave a certain facility
to Julien's logic. It was not spoilt quite so frequently by the
irritation and the keen consciousness of his poverty and low estate in
the eyes of the world. Placed as it were on a high promontory, he was
able to exercise his judgment, and had a commanding view, so to speak,
of both extreme poverty and that competence which he still called
wealth. He was far from judging his position really philosophically,
but he had enough penetration to feel different after this little
journey into the mountain.

He was struck with the extreme uneasiness with which Madame de Renal
listened to the brief account which she had asked for of his journey.
Fouque had had plans of marriage, and unhappy love affairs, and long
confidences on this subject had formed the staple of the two friends'
conversation. Having found happiness too soon, Fouque had realised
that he was not the only one who was loved. All these accounts had
astonished Julien. He had learnt many new things. His solitary life of
imagination and suspicion had kept him remote from anything which could
enlighten him.

During his absence, life had been nothing for Madame de Renal but a
series of tortures, which, though different, were all unbearable. She
was really ill.

"Now mind," said Madame Derville to her when she saw Julien arrive,
"you don't go into the garden this evening in your weak state; the damp
air will make your complaint twice as bad."

Madame Derville was surprised to see that her friend, who was always
scolded by M. de Renal by reason of the excessive simplicity of her
dress, had just got some open-work stockings and some charming little
shoes which had come from Paris. For three days Madame de Renal's only
distraction had been to cut out a summer dress of a pretty little
material which was very fashionable, and get it made with express speed
by Elisa. This dress could scarcely have been finished a few moments
before Julien's arrival, but Madame de Renal put it on immediately. Her
friend had no longer any doubt. "She loves," unhappy woman, said Madame
Derville to herself. She understood all the strange symptoms of the
malady.

She saw her speak to Julien. The most violent blush was succeeded by
pallor. Anxiety was depicted in her eyes, which were riveted on those
of the young tutor. Madame de Renal expected every minute that he would
give an explanation of his conduct, and announce that he was either
going to leave the house or stay there. Julien carefully avoided that
subject, and did not even think of it. After terrible struggles, Madame
de Renal eventually dared to say to him in a trembling voice that
mirrored all her passion:

"Are you going to leave your pupils to take another place?"

Julien was struck by Madame de Renal's hesitating voice and look.
"That woman loves me," he said to himself! "But after this temporary
moment of weakness, for which her pride is no doubt reproaching her,
and as soon as she has ceased fearing that I shall leave, she will be
as haughty as ever." This view of their mutual position passed through
Julien's mind as rapidly as a flash of lightning. He answered with some
hesitation,

"I shall be extremely distressed to leave children who are so nice
and so well-born, but perhaps it will be necessary. One has duties to
oneself as well."

As he pronounced the expression, "well-born" (it was one of those
aristocratic phrases which Julien had recently learnt), he became
animated by a profound feeling of antipathy.

"I am not well-born," he said to himself, "in that woman's eyes."

As Madame de Renal listened to him, she admired his genius and his
beauty, and the hinted possibility of his departure pierced her
heart. All her friends at Verrieres who had come to dine at Vergy
during Julien's absence had complimented her almost jealously on the
astonishing man whom her husband had had the good fortune to unearth.
It was not that they understood anything about the progress of
children. The feat of knowing his Bible by heart, and what is more, of
knowing it in Latin, had struck the inhabitants of Verrieres with an
admiration which will last perhaps a century.

Julien, who never spoke to anyone, was ignorant of all this. If Madame
de Renal had possessed the slightest presence of mind, she would have
complimented him on the reputation which he had won, and Julien's
pride, once satisfied, he would have been sweet and amiable towards
her, especially as he thought her new dress charming. Madame de Renal
was also pleased with her pretty dress, and with what Julien had
said to her about it, and wanted to walk round the garden. But she
soon confessed that she was incapable of walking. She had taken the
traveller's arm, and the contact of that arm, far from increasing her
strength, deprived her of it completely.

It was night. They had scarcely sat down before Julien, availing
himself of his old privilege, dared to bring his lips near his pretty
neighbour's arm, and to take her hand. He kept thinking of the boldness
which Fouque had exhibited with his mistresses and not of Madame de
Renal; the word "well-born" was still heavy on his heart. He felt his
hand pressed, but experienced no pleasure. So far from his being proud,
or even grateful for the sentiment that Madame de Renal was betraying
that evening by only too evident signs, he was almost insensible to
her beauty, her elegance, and her freshness. Purity of soul, and the
absence of all hateful emotion, doubtless prolong the duration of
youth. It is the face which ages first with the majority of women.

Julien sulked all the evening. Up to the present he had only been angry
with the social order, but from that time that Fouque had offered him
an ignoble means of obtaining a competency, he was irritated with
himself. Julien was so engrossed in his thoughts, that, although from
time to time he said a few words to the ladies, he eventually let go
Madame de Renal's hand without noticing it. This action overwhelmed the
soul of the poor woman. She saw in it her whole fate.

If she had been certain of Julien's affection, her virtue would
possibly have found strength to resist him. But trembling lest she
should lose him for ever, she was distracted by her passion to
the point of taking again Julien's hand, which he had left in his
absent-mindedness leaning on the back of the chair. This action woke up
this ambitious youth; he would have liked to have had for witnesses all
those proud nobles who had regarded him at meals, when he was at the
bottom of the table with the children, with so condescending a smile.
"That woman cannot despise me; in that case," he said to himself. "I
ought to shew my appreciation of her beauty. I owe it to myself to be
her lover." That idea would not have occurred to him before the naive
confidences which his friend had made.

The sudden resolution which he had just made formed an agreeable
distraction. He kept saying to himself, "I must have one of those two
women;" he realised that he would have very much preferred to have
paid court to Madame Derville. It was not that she was more agreeable,
but that she had always seen him as the tutor distinguished by his
knowledge, and not as the journeyman carpenter with his cloth jacket
folded under his arm as he had first appeared to Madame de Renal.

It was precisely as a young workman, blushing up to the whites of his
eyes, standing by the door of the house and not daring to ring, that he
made the most alluring appeal to Madame de Renal's imagination.

As he went on reviewing his position, Julien saw that the conquest of
Madame Derville, who had probably noticed the taste which Madame de
Renal was manifesting for him, was out of the question. He was thus
brought back to the latter lady. "What do I know of the character of
that woman?" said Julien to himself. "Only this: before my journey, I
used to take her hand, and she used to take it away. To-day, I take my
hand away, and she seizes and presses it. A fine opportunity to pay her
back all the contempt she had had for me. God knows how many lovers she
has had, probably she is only deciding in my favour by reason of the
easiness of assignations."

Such, alas, is the misfortune of an excessive civilisation. The soul
of a young man of twenty, possessed of any education, is a thousand
leagues away from that _abandon_ without which love is frequently but
the most tedious of duties.

"I owe it all the more to myself," went on the petty vanity of Julien,
"to succeed with that woman, by reason of the fact that if I ever make
a fortune, and I am reproached by anyone with my menial position as a
tutor, I shall then be able to give out that it was love which got me
the post."

Julien again took his hand away from Madame de Renal, and then took her
hand again and pressed it. As they went back to the drawing-room about
midnight, Madame de Renal said to him in a whisper.

"You are leaving us, you are going?"

Julien answered with a sigh.

"I absolutely must leave, for I love you passionately. It is wrong
... how wrong indeed for a young priest?" Madame de Renal leant upon
his arm, and with so much abandon that her cheek felt the warmth of
Julien's.

The nights of these two persons were quite different. Madame de
Renal was exalted by the ecstacies of the highest moral pleasure. A
coquettish young girl, who loves early in life, gets habituated to
the trouble of love, and when she reaches the age of real passion,
finds the charm of novelty lacking. As Madame de Renal had never read
any novels, all the refinements of her happiness were new to her. No
mournful truth came to chill her, not even the spectre of the future.
She imagined herself as happy in ten years' time as she was at the
present moment. Even the idea of virtue and of her sworn fidelity to M.
de Renal, which had agitated her some days past, now presented itself
in vain, and was sent about its business like an importunate visitor.
"I will never grant anything to Julien," said Madame de Renal; "we will
live in the future like we have been living for the last month. He
shall be a friend."

CHAPTER XIV

THE ENGLISH SCISSORS

        A young girl of sixteen had a pink complexion, and yet
        used red rouge.--_Polidori_.

Fouque's offer had, as a matter of fact, taken away all Julien's
happiness; he could not make up his mind to any definite course. "Alas!
perhaps I am lacking in character. I should have been a bad soldier of
Napoleon. At least," he added, "my little intrigue with the mistress of
the house will distract me a little."

Happily for him, even in this little subordinate incident, his inner
emotions quite failed to correspond with his flippant words. He was
frightened of Madame de Renal because of her pretty dress. In his
eyes, that dress was a vanguard of Paris. His pride refused to leave
anything to chance and the inspiration of the moment. He made himself
a very minute plan of campaign, moulded on the confidences of Fouque,
and a little that he had read about love in the Bible. As he was very
nervous, though he did not admit it to himself, he wrote down this plan.

Madame de Renal was alone with him for a moment in the drawing-room on
the following morning.

"Have you no other name except Julien," she said.

Our hero was at a loss to answer so nattering a question. This
circumstance had not been anticipated in his plan. If he had not been
stupid enough to have made a plan, Julien's quick wit would have served
him well, and the surprise would only have intensified the quickness of
his perception.

He was clumsy, and exaggerated his clumsiness, Madame de Renal quickly
forgave him. She attributed it to a charming frankness. And an air of
frankness was the very thing which in her view was just lacking in this
man who was acknowledged to have so much genius.

"That little tutor of yours inspires me with a great deal of
suspicion," said Madame Derville to her sometimes. "I think he looks as
if he were always thinking, and he never acts without calculation. He
is a sly fox."

Julien remained profoundly humiliated by the misfortune of not having
known what answer to make to Madame de Renal.

"A man like I am ought to make up for this check!" and seizing the
moment when they were passing from one room to another, he thought it
was his duty to give Madame de Renal a kiss.

Nothing could have been less tactful, nothing less agreeable, and
nothing more imprudent both for him and for her. They were within
an inch of being noticed. Madame de Renal thought him mad. She was
frightened, and above all, shocked. This stupidity reminded her of M.
Valenod.

"What would happen to me," she said to herself, "if I were alone with
him?" All her virtue returned, because her love was waning.

She so arranged it that one of her children always remained with her.
Julien found the day very tedious, and passed it entirely in clumsily
putting into operation his plan of seduction. He did not look at Madame
de Renal on a single occasion without that look having a reason, but
nevertheless he was not sufficiently stupid to fail to see that he was
not succeeding at all in being amiable, and was succeeding even less in
being fascinating.

Madame de Renal did not recover from her astonishment at finding him
so awkward and at the same time so bold. "It is the timidity of love
in men of intellect," she said to herself with an inexpressible joy.
"Could it be possible that he had never been loved by my rival?"

After breakfast Madame de Renal went back to the drawing-room to
receive the visit of M. Charcot de Maugiron, the sub-prefect of Bray.
She was working at a little frame of fancy-work some distance from the
ground. Madame Derville was at her side; that was how she was placed
when our hero thought it suitable to advance his boot in the full
light and press the pretty foot of Madame de Renal, whose open-work
stockings, and pretty Paris shoe were evidently attracting the looks of
the gallant sub-prefect.

Madame de Renal was very much afraid, and let fall her scissors, her
ball of wool and her needles, so that Julien's movement could be passed
for a clumsy effort, intended to prevent the fall of the scissors,
which presumably he had seen slide. Fortunately, these little scissors
of English steel were broken, and Madame de Renal did not spare her
regrets that Julien had not succeeded in getting nearer to her. "You
noticed them falling before I did--you could have prevented it,
instead, all your zealousness only succeeding in giving me a very big
kick." All this took in the sub-perfect, but not Madame Derville. "That
pretty boy has very silly manners," she thought. The social code of a
provincial capital never forgives this kind of lapse.

Madame de Renal found an opportunity of saying to Julien, "Be prudent,
I order you."

Julien appreciated his own clumsiness. He was upset. He deliberated
with himself for a long time, in order to ascertain whether or not he
ought to be angry at the expression "I order you." He was silly enough
to think she might have said "I order you," if it were some question
concerning the children's education, but in answering my love she puts
me on an equality. It is impossible to love without equality ... and
all his mind ran riot in making common-places on equality. He angrily
repeated to himself that verse of Corneille which Madame Derville had
taught him some days before.

                                      "L'amour
        les egalites, et ne les cherche pas."

Julien who had never had a mistress in his whole life, but yet insisted
on playing the role of a Don Juan, made a shocking fool of himself all
day. He had only one sensible idea. Bored with himself and Madame de
Renal, he viewed with apprehension the advance of the evening when he
would have to sit by her side in the darkness of the garden. He told M.
de Renal that he was going to Verrieres to see the cure. He left after
dinner, and only came back in the night.

At Verrieres Julien found M. Chelan occupied in moving. He had just
been deprived of his living; the curate Maslon was replacing him.
Julien helped the good cure, and it occurred to him to write to Fouque
that the irresistible mission which he felt for the holy ministry had
previously prevented him from accepting his kind offer, but that he had
just seen an instance of injustice, and that perhaps it would be safer
not to enter into Holy Orders.

Julien congratulated himself on his subtlety in exploiting the
dismissal of the cure of Verrieres so as to leave himself a loop-hole
for returning to commerce in the event of a gloomy prudence routing the
spirit of heroism from his mind.

CHAPTER XV

THE COCK'S SONG

    Amour en latin faict amour;
    Or done provient d'amour la mart,
    Et, par avant, souley qui moreq,
    Deuil, plours, pieges, forfailz, remord.
                                     BLASON D'AMOUR.

If Julien had possessed a little of that adroitness on which he so
gratuitously plumed himself, he could have congratulated himself the
following day on the effect produced by his journey to Verrieres. His
absence had caused his clumsiness to be forgotten. But on that day
also he was rather sulky. He had a ludicrous idea in the evening, and
with singular courage he communicated it to Madame de Renal. They had
scarcely sat down in the garden before Julien brought his mouth near
Madame de Renal's ear without waiting till it was sufficiently dark and
at the risk of compromising her terribly, said to her,

"Madame, to-night, at two o'clock, I shall go into your room, I must
tell you something."

Julien trembled lest his request should be granted. His rakish pose
weighed him down so terribly that if he could have followed his own
inclination he would have returned to his room for several days and
refrained from seeing the ladies any more. He realised that he had
spoiled by his clever conduct of last evening all the bright prospects
of the day that had just passed, and was at his wits' end what to do.

Madame de Renal answered the impertinent declaration which Julien had
dared to make to her with indignation which was real and in no way
exaggerated. He thought he could see contempt in her curt reply. The
expression "for shame," had certainly occurred in that whispered answer.

Julien went to the children's room under the pretext of having
something to say to them, and on his return he placed himself beside
Madame Derville and very far from Madame de Renal. He thus deprived
himself of all possibility of taking her hand. The conversation was
serious, and Julien acquitted himself very well, apart from a few
moments of silence during which he was cudgelling his brains.

"Why can't I invent some pretty manoeuvre," he said to himself which
will force Madame de Renal to vouchsafe to me those unambiguous signs
of tenderness which a few days ago made me think that she was mine.

Julien was extremely disconcerted by the almost desperate plight
to which he had brought his affairs. Nothing, however, would have
embarrassed him more than success.

When they separated at midnight, his pessimism made him think that
he enjoyed Madame Derville's contempt, and that probably he stood no
better with Madame de Renal.

Feeling in a very bad temper and very humiliated, Julien did not sleep.
He was leagues away from the idea of giving up all intriguing and
planning, and of living from day to day with Madame de Renal, and of
being contented like a child with the happiness brought by every day.

He racked his brains inventing clever manoeuvres, which an instant
afterwards he found absurd, and, to put it shortly, was very unhappy
when two o'clock rang from the castle clock.

The noise woke him up like the cock's crow woke up St. Peter. The most
painful episode was now timed to begin--he had not given a thought to
his impertinent proposition, since the moment when he had made it and
it had been so badly received.

"I have told her that I will go to her at two o'clock," he said to
himself as he got up, "I may be inexperienced and coarse, as the son
of a peasant naturally would be. Madame Derville has given me to
understand as much, but at any rate, I will not be weak."

Julien had reason to congratulate himself on his courage, for he had
never put his self-control to so painful a test. As he opened his door,
he was trembling to such an extent that his knees gave way under him,
and he was forced to lean against the wall.

He was without shoes; he went and listened at M. de Renal's door, and
could hear his snoring. He was disconsolate, he had no longer any
excuse for not going to her room. But, Great Heaven! What was he to do
there? He had no plan, and even if he had had one, he felt himself so
nervous that he would have been incapable of carrying it out.

Eventually, suffering a thousand times more than if he had been walking
to his death, he entered the little corridor that led to Madame de
Renal's room. He opened the door with a trembling hand and made a
frightful noise.

There was light; a night light was burning on the mantelpiece. He
had not expected this new misfortune. As she saw him enter, Madame
de Renal got quickly out of bed. "Wretch," she cried. There was a
little confusion. Julien forgot his useless plans, and turned to his
natural role. To fail to please so charming a woman appeared to him the
greatest of misfortunes. His only answer to her reproaches was to throw
himself at her feet while he kissed her knees. As she was speaking to
him with extreme harshness, he burst into tears.

When Julien came out of Madame de Renal's room some hours afterwards,
one could have said, adopting the conventional language of the novel,
that there was nothing left to be desired. In fact, he owed to the love
he had inspired, and to the unexpected impression which her alluring
charms had produced upon him, a victory to which his own clumsy tactics
would never have led him.

But victim that he was of a distorted pride, he pretended even in
the sweetest moments to play the role of a man accustomed to the
subjugation of women: he made incredible but deliberate efforts to
spoil his natural charm. Instead of watching the transports which he
was bringing into existence, and those pangs of remorse which only set
their keenness into fuller relief, the idea of duty was continually
before his eyes. He feared a frightful remorse, and eternal ridicule,
if he departed from the ideal model he proposed to follow. In a word,
the very quality which made Julien into a superior being was precisely
that which prevented him from savouring the happiness which was placed
within his grasp. It's like the case of a young girl of sixteen with a
charming complexion who is mad enough to put on rouge before going to a
ball.

Mortally terrified by the apparition of Julien, Madame de Renal was
soon a prey to the most cruel alarm. The prayers and despair of Julien
troubled her keenly.

Even when there was nothing left for her to refuse him she pushed
Julien away from her with a genuine indignation, and straightway threw
herself into his arms. There was no plan apparent in all this conduct.
She thought herself eternally damned, and tried to hide from herself
the sight of hell by loading Julien with the wildest caresses. In a
word, nothing would have been lacking in our hero's happiness, not even
an ardent sensibility in the woman whom he had just captured, if he had
only known how to enjoy it. Julien's departure did not in any way bring
to an end those ecstacies which thrilled her in spite of herself, and
those troubles of remorse which lacerated her.

"My God! being happy--being loved, is that all it comes to?" This was
Julien's first thought as he entered his room. He was a prey to the
astonishment and nervous anxiety of the man who has just obtained
what he has long desired. He has been accustomed to desire, and has
no longer anything to desire, and nevertheless has no memories. Like
a soldier coming back from parade. Julien was absorbed in rehearsing
the details of his conduct. "Have I failed in nothing which I owe to
myself? Have I played my part well?"

And what a part! the part of a man accustomed to be brilliant with
women.

Julien plans his campaign and, after much anguish, takes Mme. de Renal's hand the next evening. Although she at first withdraws, he insists, and ultimately, she offers it freely. Renal offends Julien by accusing him of neglecting the children, but Julien's sullen mood is suddenly changed by the imminence of a catastrophe: Renal might find his hidden picture of Napoleon as the mayor and the servants change the mattress stuffing. Mme. de Renal rescues it for Julien, unaware of whose picture the box contains. Renal, on the other hand, misinterprets Julien's pride for the cunning of the peasant demanding more wages. When he grants Julien a raise, the latter is abashed and scorns the mayor even more for measuring everything in monetary terms. Julien gives expanse to the joy of victory in the solitude of the mountains as he goes to visit Chelan. The next night, Julien dares to show his scorn of Renal by taking Mme. de Renal's hand in his very presence, albeit under the cover of dark, and he covers it with passionate kisses. Julien contemplates his campaign against this contemptible bourgeois; Mme. de Renal is torn between her jealousy and anguish at the first pangs of guilt, imagining herself to be a fallen woman. Her agitation is so great that she almost betrays her passion by asking Elisa abruptly if it is she, Elisa, whom Julien loves. Mme. de Renal resolves to treat Julien coldly. Julien takes offense and does not confide to her his plans to leave for a three-day trip. He stops off again in the mountains to enjoy his freedom in solitude. During their visit, Fouque offers Julien a partnership that would assure the latter of financial success. After deliberation, Julien rejects the offer since the success he envisages must be gained through hardship and accomplished by means of the Church. His friendship itself is instrumental in his rejection of the offer. He would not choose to betray Fouque later, once his education had been financed. Fouque confides to Julien the tales of his amorous conquests. Upon his return, Julien discovers that Mme. de Renal is in love with him, and he decides that his duty requires that he make her his mistress. He announces that he must leave since he loves her desperately. This avowal sends her into ecstasy, but she innocently assures herself that their relationship will be a platonic one. Julien awkwardly begins his seduction. His absence, caused by another trip to Verrieres, where he witnesses the disgrace into which Chelan has fallen, causes his awkward attempts of the previous day to be forgotten. He announces quite abruptly to Mme. de Renal that he will visit her room at two o'clock in the morning. The declaration is met with an indignant reprimand. He forces himself to carry out this, the most daring of his exploits, and it succeeds only because he forgets his plan and throws himself at Mme. de Renal's feet. He is unable to enjoy the experience, however, since he is so occupied seeing himself in the role of lover. Returning to his room, Julien's only thought is whether he played his role well.

In spite of the obvious earnestness of the characters, the reader cannot help but be amused at the "comedy of errors and cross purposes" that is played out in these chapters, having its climax in Chapter 15 with the seduction of Mme. de Renal. This triumph is not due to Julien's art but rather to his charm, which erupts in unguarded moments; to Mme. de Renal's love for him, which by this time has become passion; and to the unknowing collaboration of the mayor. Stendhal manipulates the episodes in such a way that each of the three characters acts independently of the others, yet almost by chance they contribute by their convergence to the fortuitous victory of Julien. This unwitting conspiracy is apparent upon analysis. Julien's ambition to seduce Mme. de Renal does not result from love for her but from his sense of duty toward himself. He owes it to himself to take her hand, but he has forgotten the incident the next morning. To motivate this "de-motivated" campaign, Stendhal then utilizes the mayor, whose reproach to Julien for his idleness provokes the latter to avenge his wounded pride by demanding an apology. To the amazement of Julien, the mayor grants him a raise. Julien realizes, however, that this second victory has not been earned, but the elation of the victories must be expressed in the solitude of the mountains. Julien's next step is again motivated by his scorn for the mayor. What an expression of ridicule to take Mme. de Renal's hand in the presence of her husband! That evening, Julien relaxes enough to actually enjoy the unknown pleasure that her beauty causes him. Planning his strategy according to Napoleon, he will further crush the mayor by requesting a three-day leave. Already, in spite of himself, however, a feeling for Mme. de Renal is autonomously manifesting itself. Stendhal comments that Julien longed to see her again, in spite of his expectations. The mutual coldness of their interview summarizes their dilemma: It moves them apart in order, ultimately, to unite them. The numerous absences of Julien ripen Mme. de Renal for the ultimate conquest, although Julien does not absent himself for that specific purpose. The tranquility enjoyed by Julien during his second retreat to the mountains is disturbed by Fouque's offer. Even this obstacle advances Julien's cause, unbeknownst to him: It frees his mind to think of her. Fouque's amorous affairs teach Julien something about women. Upon his return, therefore, he comes "naturally" to the realization that Mme. de Renal loves him. This proves to be the greatest step in his progression since when she herself initiates the hand-clasp ritual, Julien "ups the ante" in his self-imposition of obstacle pattern, deciding that it is his duty to seduce her, to make her his mistress. This decision, then, is made in all lucidity. With no love yet prompting him, only his ambition and pride, Julien announces hypocritically that he loves her passionately. As he executes his plan, he falls from blunder into blunder, and his attempts at paying court are climaxed by his brutal announcement of the early morning visit he will pay. Had Mme. de Renal not been moved by Julien's tears of confusion and had her love not progressed to its paroxysm, she would never have given herself. Julien's conquest of Mme. de Renal and his love for her at this point take the form of a military assault on society. Mme. de Renal, on the other hand, already painfully knows the bliss of love. She allies herself unknowingly more and more closely with Julien against her husband. The sweet complicity into which she enters with Julien has a twofold importance: It is a sign of a greater degree of involvement with Julien and a means to the realization of a further step in the crystallization of her love because it contains the seeds of jealousy which will torment her. At first her conflict is between the fear of not being loved and the shame of becoming an adulteress. Then when she permits herself to enjoy the thought of happiness with Julien, she is tormented by jealousy, by the fear that he loves another. Soon fear of Julien's departure overcomes any thought she has of resisting him. His hypocritical confession of love for her sends her into a blissful state, although she continues to delude herself as to the future of their relationship, which she can only see as platonic. The final blunder that precipitates the seduction again reproduces in miniature their entire experience. He clumsily tries to make contact with her foot; she reproaches him, ordering him to be careful; he is offended by the tone and leaves for a day, an absence that prepares her to accept him. In the two studies of love that the novel presents, with Mme. de Renal, and in Part II, with Mathilde, Stendhal is not only contrasting two types of love -- passionate and intellectual -- but is focusing different stages of the love experience, and the two are presented in a complementary way. Julien and Mme. de Renal are united through blunder and by accident, and separation brings about the union. Julien and Mathilde will both calculate, and Julien will succeed in keeping her love alive only through imposing separation and distance.