บทที่ บทที่ 6 · ENNUI

. ENNUI

Non so piú cosa son

Cosa facio.

MOZART (_Figaro_).

Madame de Rênal was going out of the salon by the folding window which

opened on to the garden with that vivacity and grace which was natural

to her when she was free from human observation, when she noticed a

young peasant near the entrance gate. He was still almost a child,

extremely pale, and looked as though he had been crying. He was in a

white shirt and had under his arm a perfectly new suit of violet frieze.

The little peasant's complexion was so white and his eyes were so soft,

that Madame de Rênal's somewhat romantic spirit thought at first that

it might be a young girl in disguise, who had come to ask some favour

of the M. the Mayor. She took pity on this poor creature, who had

stopped at the entrance of the door, and who apparently did not dare

to raise its hand to the bell. Madame de Rênal approached, forgetting

for the moment the bitter chagrin occasioned by the tutor's arrival.

Julien, who was turned towards the gate, did not see her advance. He

trembled when a soft voice said quite close to his ear:

"What do you want here, my child."

Julien turned round sharply and was so struck by Madame de Rênal's

look, full of graciousness as it was, that up to a certain point he

forgot to be nervous. Overcome by her beauty he soon forgot everything,

even what he had come for. Madame de Rênal repeated her question.

"I have come here to be tutor, Madame," he said at last, quite ashamed

of his tears which he was drying as best as he could.

Madame de Rênal remained silent. They had a view of each other at close

range. Julien had never seen a human being so well-dressed, and above

all he had never seen a woman with so dazzling a complexion speak to

him at all softly. Madame de Rênal observed the big tears which had

lingered on the cheeks of the young peasant, those cheeks which had

been so pale and were now so pink. Soon she began to laugh with all the

mad gaiety of a young girl, she made fun of herself, and was unable to

realise the extent of her happiness. So this was that tutor whom she

had imagined a dirty, badly dressed priest, who was coming to scold and

flog her children.

"What! Monsieur," she said to him at last, "you know Latin?"

The word "Monsieur" astonished Julien so much that he reflected for a

moment.

"Yes, Madame," he said timidly.

Madame de Rênal was so happy that she plucked up the courage to say to

Julien, "You will not scold the poor children too much?"

"I scold them!" said Julien in astonishment; "why should I?"

"You won't, will you, Monsieur," she added after a little silence, in

a soft voice whose emotion became more and more intense. "You will be

nice to them, you promise me?"

To hear himself called "Monsieur" again in all seriousness by so well

dressed a lady was beyond all Julien's expectations. He had always said

to himself in all the castles of Spain that he had built in his youth,

that no real lady would ever condescend to talk to him except when he

had a fine uniform. Madame de Rênal, on her side, was completely taken

in by Julien's beautiful complexion, his big black eyes, and his pretty

hair, which was more than usually curly, because he had just plunged

his head into the basin of the public fountain in order to refresh

himself. She was over-joyed to find that this sinister tutor, whom

she had feared to find so harsh and severe to her children, had, as a

matter of fact, the timid manner of a girl. The contrast between her

fears and what she now saw, proved a great event for Madame de Rênal's

peaceful temperament. Finally, she recovered from her surprise. She

was astonished to find herself at the gate of her own house talking in

this way and at such close quarters to this young and somewhat scantily

dressed man.

"Let us go in, Monsieur," she said to him with a certain air of

embarrassment.

During Madame de Rênal's whole life she had never been so deeply moved

by such a sense of pure pleasure. Never had so gracious a vision

followed in the wake of her disconcerting fears. So these pretty

children of whom she took such care were not after all to fall into

the hands of a dirty grumbling priest. She had scarcely entered the

vestibule when she turned round towards Julien, who was following her

trembling. His astonishment at the sight of so fine a house proved but

an additional charm in Madame de Rênal's eyes. She could not believe

her own eyes. It seemed to her, above all, that the tutor ought to have

a black suit.

"But is it true, Monsieur," she said to him, stopping once again, and

in mortal fear that she had made a mistake, so happy had her discovery

made her. "Is it true that you know Latin?" These words offended

Julien's pride, and dissipated the charming atmosphere which he had

been enjoying for the last quarter of an hour.

"Yes, Madame," he said, trying to assume an air of coldness, "I know

Latin as well as the curé, who has been good enough to say sometimes

that I know it even better."

Madame de Rênal thought that Julien looked extremely wicked. He had

stopped two paces from her. She approached and said to him in a whisper:

"You won't beat my children the first few days, will you, even if they

do not know their lessons?"

The softness and almost supplication of so beautiful a lady made Julien

suddenly forget what he owed to his reputation as a Latinist. Madame de

Rênal's face was close to his own. He smelt the perfume of a woman's

summer clothing, a quite astonishing experience for a poor peasant.

Julien blushed extremely, and said with a sigh in a faltering voice:

"Fear nothing, Madame, I will obey you in everything."

It was only now, when her anxiety about her children had been relieved

once and for all, that Madame de Rênal was struck by Julien's extreme

beauty. The comparative effeminancy of his features and his air of

extreme embarrassment did not seem in any way ridiculous to a woman who

was herself extremely timid. The male air, which is usually considered

essential to a man's beauty, would have terrified her.

"How old are you, sir," she said to Julien.

"Nearly nineteen."

"My elder son is eleven," went on Madame de Rênal, who had completely

recovered her confidence. "He will be almost a chum for you. You will

talk sensibly to him. His father started beating him once. The child

was ill for a whole week, and yet it was only a little tap."

What a difference between him and me, thought Julien. Why, it was only

yesterday that my father beat me. How happy these rich people are.

Madame de Rênal, who had already begun to observe the fine nuances of

the workings in the tutor's mind, took this fit of sadness for timidity

and tried to encourage him.

"What is your name, Monsieur?" she said to him, with an accent and

a graciousness whose charm Julien appreciated without being able to

explain.

"I am called Julien Sorel, Madame. I feel nervous of entering a strange

house for the first time in my life. I have need of your protection

and I want you to make many allowances for me during the first few

days. I have never been to the college, I was too poor. I have never

spoken to anyone else except my cousin who was Surgeon-Major, Member

of the Legion of Honour, and M. the curé Chélan. He will give you a

good account of me. My brothers always used to beat me, and you must

not believe them if they speak badly of me to you. You must forgive my

faults, Madame. I shall always mean everything for the best."

Julien had regained his confidence during this long speech. He was

examining Madame de Rênal. Perfect grace works wonders when it is

natural to the character, and above all, when the person whom it

adorns never thinks of trying to affect it. Julien, who was quite a

connoisseur in feminine beauty, would have sworn at this particular

moment that she was not more than twenty. The rash idea of kissing her

hand immediately occurred to him. He soon became frightened of his

idea. A minute later he said to himself, it will be an act of cowardice

if I do not carry out an action which may be useful to me, and lessen

the contempt which this fine lady probably has for a poor workman just

taken away from the saw-mill. Possibly Julien was a little encouraged

through having heard some young girls repeat on Sundays during the last

six months the words "pretty boy."

During this internal debate, Madame de Rênal was giving him two or

three hints on the way to commence handling the children. The strain

Julien was putting on himself made him once more very pale. He said

with an air of constraint.

"I will never beat your children, Madame. I swear it before God." In

saying this, he dared to take Madame de Rênal's hand and carry it

to his lips. She was astonished at this act, and after reflecting,

became shocked. As the weather was very warm, her arm was quite bare

underneath the shawl, and Julien's movement in carrying her hand to his

lips entirely uncovered it. After a few moments she scolded herself. It

seemed to her that her anger had not been quick enough.

M. de Rênal, who had heard voices, came out of his study, and assuming

the same air of paternal majesty with which he celebrated marriages at

the mayoral office, said to Julien:

"It is essential for me to have a few words with you before my children

see you." He made Julien enter a room and insisted on his wife being

present, although she wished to leave them alone. Having closed the

door M. Rênal sat down.

"M. the curé has told me that you are a worthy person, and everybody

here will treat you with respect. If I am satisfied with you I will

later on help you in having a little establishment of your own. I do

not wish you to see either anything more of your relatives or your

friends. Their tone is bound to be prejudicial to my children. Here are

thirty-six francs for the first month, but I insist on your word not to

give a sou of this money to your father."

M. de Rênal was piqued against the old man for having proved the

shrewder bargainer.

"Now, Monsieur, for I have given orders for everybody here to call you

Monsieur, and you will appreciate the advantage of having entered the

house of real gentle folk, now, Monsieur, it is not becoming for the

children to see you in a jacket." "Have the servants seen him?" said M.

de Rênal to his wife.

"No, my dear," she answered, with an air of deep pensiveness.

"All the better. Put this on," he said to the surprised young man,

giving him a frock-coat of his own. "Let us now go to M. Durand's the

draper."

When M. de Rênal came back with the new tutor in his black suit more

than an hour later, he found his wife still seated in the same place.

She felt calmed by Julien's presence. When she examined him she forgot

to be frightened of him. Julien was not thinking about her at all. In

spite of all his distrust of destiny and mankind, his soul at this

moment was as simple as that of a child. It seemed as though he had

lived through years since the moment, three hours ago, when he had been

all atremble in the church. He noticed Madame de Rênal's frigid manner

and realised that she was very angry, because he had dared to kiss her

hand. But the proud consciousness which was given to him by the feel

of clothes so different from those which he usually wore, transported

him so violently and he had so great a desire to conceal his

exultation, that all his movements were marked by a certain spasmodic

irresponsibility. Madame de Rênal looked at him with astonishment.

"Monsieur," said M. de Rênal to him, "dignity above all is necessary if

you wish to be respected by my children."

"Sir," answered Julien, "I feel awkward in my new clothes. I am a poor

peasant and have never wore anything but jackets. If you allow it, I

will retire to my room."

"What do you think of this 'acquisition?'" said M. de Rênal to his wife.

Madame de Rênal concealed the truth from her husband, obeying an almost

instinctive impulse which she certainly did not own to herself.

"I am not as fascinated as you are by this little peasant. Your favours

will result in his not being able to keep his place, and you will have

to send him back before the month is out."

"Oh, well! we'll send him back then, he cannot run me into more than

a hundred francs, and Verrières will have got used to seeing M. de

Rênal's children with a tutor. That result would not have been achieved

if I had allowed Julien to wear a workman's clothes. If I do send him

back, I shall of course keep the complete black suit which I have just

ordered at the draper's. All he will keep is the ready-made suit which

I have just put him into at the the tailor's."

The hour that Julien spent in his room seemed only a minute to Madame

de Rênal. The children who had been told about their new tutor began

to overwhelm their mother with questions. Eventually Julien appeared.

He was quite another man. It would be incorrect to say that he was

grave--he was the very incarnation of gravity. He was introduced to

the children and spoke to them in a manner that astonished M. de Rênal

himself.

"I am here, gentlemen, he said, as he finished his speech, to teach

you Latin. You know what it means to recite a lesson. Here is the Holy

Bible, he said, showing them a small volume in thirty-two mo., bound in

black. It deals especially with the history of our Lord Jesus Christ

and is the part which is called the New Testament. I shall often make

you recite your lesson, but do you make me now recite mine."

Adolphe, the eldest of the children, had taken up the book. "Open it

anywhere you like," went on Julien and tell me the first word of any

verse, "I will then recite by heart that sacred book which governs our

conduct towards the whole world, until you stop me."

Adolphe opened the book and read a word, and Julien recited the whole

of the page as easily as though he had been talking French. M. de Rênal

looked at his wife with an air of triumph The children, seeing the

astonishment of their parents, opened their eyes wide. A servant came

to the door of the drawing-room; Julien went on talking Latin. The

servant first remained motionless, and then disappeared. Soon Madame's

house-maid, together with the cook, arrived at the door. Adolphe had

already opened the book at eight different places, while Julien went

on reciting all the time with the same facility. "Great heavens!" said

the cook, a good and devout girl, quite aloud, "what a pretty little

priest!" M. de Rênal's self-esteem became uneasy. Instead of thinking

of examining the tutor, his mind was concentrated in racking his memory

for some other Latin words. Eventually he managed to spout a phrase of

Horace. Julien knew no other Latin except his Bible. He answered with a

frown. "The holy ministry to which I destine myself has forbidden me to

read so profane a poet."

M. de Rênal quoted quite a large number of alleged verses from Horace.

He explained to his children who Horace was, but the admiring children,

scarcely attended to what he was saying: they were looking at Julien.

The servants were still at the door. Julien thought that he ought to

prolong the test--"M. Stanislas-Xavier also," he said to the youngest

of the children, "must give me a passage from the holy book."

Little Stanislas, who was quite flattered, read indifferently the first

word of a verse, and Julien said the whole page.

To put the finishing touch on M. de Rênal's triumph, M. Valenod, the

owner of the fine Norman horses, and M. Charcot de Maugiron, the

sub-prefect of the district came in when Julien was reciting. This

scene earned for Julien the title of Monsieur; even the servants did

not dare to refuse it to him.

That evening all Verrières flocked to M. de Rênal's to see the prodigy.

Julien answered everybody in a gloomy manner and kept his own distance.

His fame spread so rapidly in the town that a few hours afterwards

M. de Rênal, fearing that he would be taken away by somebody else,

proposed to that he should sign an engagement for two years.

"No, Monsieur," Julien answered coldly, "if you wished to dismiss me, I

should have to go. An engagement which binds me without involving you

in any obligation is not an equal one and I refuse it."

Julien played his cards so well, that in less than a month of his

arrival at the house, M. de Rênal himself respected him. As the curé

had quarrelled with both M. de Rênal and M. Valenod, there was no one

who could betray Julien's old passion for Napoleon. He always spoke of

Napoleon with abhorrence.