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Pierrette By: Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850) |
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By Honore De Balzac Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley
DEDICATION To Mademoiselle Anna Hanska: Dear Child, You, the joy of the household, you, whose pink or
white pelerine flutters in summer among the groves of
Wierzschovnia like a will o' the wisp, followed by the tender eyes
of your father and your mother, how can I dedicate to you a
story full of melancholy? And yet, ought not sorrows to be spoken
of to a young girl idolized as you are, since the day may come
when your sweet hands will be called to minister to them? It is so
difficult, Anna, to find in the history of our manners and morals
a subject that is worthy of your eyes, that no choice has been
left me; but perhaps you will be made to feel how fortunate your
fate is when you read the story sent to you by
Your old friend,
De Balzac. PIERRETTE
I. THE LORRAINS At the dawn of an October day in 1827 a young fellow about sixteen years
of age, whose clothing proclaimed what modern phraseology so insolently
calls a proletary, was standing in a small square of Lower Provins.
At that early hour he could examine without being observed the various
houses surrounding the open space, which was oblong in form. The
mills along the river were already working; the whirr of their wheels,
repeated by the echoes of the Upper Town in the keen air and sparkling
clearness of the early morning, only intensified the general silence so
that the wheels of a diligence could be heard a league away along the
highroad. The two longest sides of the square, separated by an avenue
of lindens, were built in the simple style which expresses so well
the peaceful and matter of fact life of the bourgeoisie. No signs
of commerce were to be seen; on the other hand, the luxurious
porte cocheres of the rich were few, and those few turned seldom on
their hinges, excepting that of Monsieur Martener, a physician, whose
profession obliged him to keep a cabriolet, and to use it. A few of the
house fronts were covered by grape vines, others by roses climbing to
the second story windows, through which they wafted the fragrance of
their scattered bunches. One end of the square enters the main street of
the Lower Town, the gardens of which reach to the bank of one of the two
rivers which water the valley of Provins. The other end of the square
enters a street which runs parallel to the main street. At the latter, which was also the quietest end of the square, the young
workman recognized the house of which he was in search, which showed a
front of white stone grooved in lines to represent courses, windows with
closed gray blinds, and slender iron balconies decorated with rosettes
painted yellow. Above the ground floor and the first floor were three
dormer windows projecting from a slate roof; on the peak of the central
one was a new weather vane. This modern innovation represented a hunter
in the attitude of shooting a hare. The front door was reached by three
stone steps. On one side of this door a leaden pipe discharged the
sink water into a small street gutter, showing the whereabouts of the
kitchen. On the other side were two windows, carefully closed by gray
shutters in which were heart shaped openings cut to admit the light;
these windows seemed to be those of the dining room. In the elevation
gained by the three steps were vent holes to the cellar, closed by
painted iron shutters fantastically cut in open work. Everything was
new. In this repaired and restored house, the fresh colored look of
which contrasted with the time worn exteriors of all the other houses,
an observer would instantly perceive the paltry taste and perfect
self satisfaction of the retired petty shopkeeper. The young man looked at these details with an expression of pleasure
that seemed to have something rather sad in it; his eyes roved from the
kitchen to the roof, with a motion that showed a deliberate purpose... Continue reading book >>
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