Justine

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2Madame la Comtesse de Lorsange was one of those priestesses ofVenus whose fortune is the product of a pretty face and muchmisconduct, and whose titles, pompous though they are, are not tobe found but in the archives of Cythera, forged by the impertinencethat seeks, and sustained by the fool's credulity that bestows,them; brunette, a fine figure, eyes of a singular expression, thatmodish unbelief which, contributing one further spice to thepassions, causes those women in whom it is suspected to be soughtafter that much more diligently; a trifle wicked, unfurnished withany principle, allowing evil to exist in nothing, lacking howeverthat amount of depravation in the heart to have extinguished itssensibility; haughty, libertine; such was Madame de Lorsange.

Nevertheless, this woman had received the best education;daughter of a very rich Parisian banker, she had been brought up,together with a sister named Justine, by three years younger thanshe, in one of the capital's most celebrated abbeys where, untilthe ages of twelve and fifteen years, the one and the other of thetwo sisters had been denied no counsels, no masters, no books, andno polite talents.

At this period crucial to the virtue of the two maidens, theywere in one day made bereft of everything: a frightful bankruptcyprecipitated their father into circumstances so cruel that heperished of grief. One month later, his wife followed him into thegrave. Two distant and heartless relatives deliberated what shouldbe done with the young orphans; a hundred crowns apiece was theirshare of a legacy mostly swallowed up by creditors. No one caringto be burdened with them, the convent's door was opened, theirdowry was put into their hands, and they were left at liberty tobecome what they wished. Madame de Lorsange, at the time calledJuliette, whose mind and character were to all intents and purposesas completely formed then as at thirty, the age she had attained atthe opening of the tale we are about to relate, seemed nothing butoverjoyed to be put at large; she gave not a moment's thought tothe cruel events which had broken her chains. As for Justine, agedas we have remarked, twelve, hers was of a pensive and melancholycharacter, which made her far more keenly appreciate all thehorrors of her situation.

Full of tenderness, endowed with a surprising sensibilityinstead of with her sister's art and finesse, she was ruled by aningenuousness, a candor that were to cause her to tumble into not afew pitfalls. To so many qualities this girl joined a sweetcountenance, absolutely unlike that with which Nature hadembellished Juliette; for all the artifice, wiles, coquetry onenoticed in the features of the one, there were proportionateamounts of modesty, decency, and timidity to be admired in theother; a virginal air, large blue eyes very soulful and appealing,a dazzling fair skin, a supple and resilient body, a touchingvoice, teeth of ivory and the loveliest blond hair, there you havea sketch of this charming creature whose naive graces and delicatetraits are beyond our power to describe. They were giventwenty-four hours to leave the convent; into their hands, togetherwith their five score crowns, was thrown the responsibility toprovide for themselves as they saw fit.

Delighted to be her own mistress, Juliette spent a minute,perhaps two, wiping away Justine's tears, then, observing it was invain, she fell to scolding instead of comforting her; she rebukedJustine for her sensitiveness; she told her, with a philosophicacuity far beyond her years, that in this world one must not beafflicted save by what affects one personally; that it was possibleto find in oneself physical sensations of a sufficiently voluptuouspiquancy to extinguish all the moral affections whose shock couldbe painful; that it was all the more essential so to proceed, sincetrue wisdom consists infinitely more in doubling the sum of one'spleasures than in increasing the sum of one's pains; that, in aword, there was nothing one ought not do in order to deaden inoneself that perfidious sensibility from which none but othersprofit while to us it brings naught but troubles.

But it is difficult to harden a gentle good heart, it resiststhe arguments of a toughened bad mind, and its solemn satisfactionsconsole it for the loss of the bel-esprit's false splendors.Juliette, employing other resources, then said to her sister, thatwith the age and the figure they both of them had, they could notdie of hunger Ä she cited the example of one of theirneighbors' daughters who, having escaped from her father's house,was presently very royally maintained and far happier, doubtless,than if she had remained at home with her family; one must, saidJuliette, take good care to avoid believing it is marriage thatrenders a girl happy; that, a captive under the hymeneal laws, shehas, with much ill-humor to suffer, a very slight measure of joysto expect; instead of which, were she to surrender herself tolibertinage, she might always be able to protect herself againsther lovers' moods, or be comforted by their number. These speecheshorrified Justine; she declared she preferred death to ignominy;whatever were her sister's reiterated urgings, she adamantlyrefused to take up lodging with her immediately she saw Juliettebent upon conduct that caused her to shudder.

After each had announced her very different intentions, the twogirls separated without exchanging any promises to see each anotheragain. Would Juliette, who, so she affirmed, intended to become alady of consequence, would Juliette consent to receive a littlegirl whose virtuous but base inclinations might be able to bringher into dishonor? and, on her side, would Justine wish tojeopardize her morals in the society of a perverse creature who wasbound to become public debauchery's toy and the lewd mob's victim?And so each bid an eternal adieu to the other, and they left theconvent on the morrow. During early childhood caressed by hermother's dressmaker, Justine believes this woman will treat herkindly now in this hour of her distress; she goes in search of thewoman, she tells the tale of her woes, she asks employment . . .she is scarcely recognized; and is harshly driven out the door.

"Oh Heaven I" cries the poor little creature, "must my initialsteps in this world be so quickly stamped with ill-fortune? Thatwoman once loved me; why does she cast me away today? Alas! 'tisbecause I am poor and an orphan, because I have no more means andpeople are not esteemed save in reason of the aid and benefits oneimagines may be had of them." Wringing her hands, Justine goes tofind her cure; she describes her circumstances with the vigorouscandor proper to her years.... She was wearing a little whitegarment, her lovely hair was negligently tucked up under herbonnet, her breast, whose development had scarcely begun, washidden beneath two or three folds of gauze, her pretty face hadsomewhat of pallor owing to the unhappiness consuming her, a fewtears rolled from her eyes and lent to them an additionalexpressiveness... "You observe me, Monsieur," said she to thesaintly ecclesiastic... "Yes, you observe me in what for a girl isa most dreadful position; I have lost my father and mother...Heaven has taken them from me at an age when I stand in greatestneed of their assistance... They died ruined, Monsieur; we nolonger have anything. There," she continued, "is all they left me,"and she displayed her dozen louis, "and nowhere to rest my poorhead.... You will have pity upon me, Monsieur, will you not? Youare Religion's minister and Religion was always my heart's virtue;in the name of that God I adore and whose organ you are, tell me,as if you were a second father unto me, what must I do? what mustbecome of me ?"