Justine 淑女的眼泪 Chapter 2

Juliette, employing other resources, then said to her sister, that with the age and the figure they both of them had, they could not die of hunger she cited the example of one of their neighbors' 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, said Juliette, take good care to avoid believing it is marriage that renders a girl happy; that, a captive under the hymeneal laws, she has, with much ill-humor to suffer, a very slight measure of joys to expect; instead of which, were she to surrender herself to libertinage¹, she might always be able to protect herself against her lovers' moods, or be comforted by their number.

 

These speeches horrified² Justine; she declared she preferred death to ignominy; whatever were her sister's reiterated³ urgings, she adamantly⁴ refused to take up lodging⁵ with her immediately she saw Juliette bent⁶ upon conduct that caused her to shudder⁷.

 

After each had announced her very different intentions, the two girls separated without exchanging any promises to see each another again. Would Juliette, who, so she affirmed, intended to become a lady of consequence, would Juliette consent to receive a little girl whose virtuous⁸ but base inclinations⁹ might be able to bring her into dishonor? and, on her side, would Justine wish to jeopardize¹⁰ her morals in the society of a perverse¹¹ creature who was bound to become public debauchery's toy and the lewd¹² mob's victim? And so each bid an eternal adieu to the other, and they left the convent on the morrow.

 

During early childhood caressed¹³ by her mother's dressmaker, Justine believes this woman will treat her kindly¹⁴ now in this hour of her distress¹⁵; she goes in search of the woman, she tells the tale of her woes¹⁶, she asks employment . . . she is scarcely recognized; and is harshly driven out the door.

 

"Oh Heaven I" cries the poor little creature, "must my initial steps in this world be so quickly stamped with ill-fortune? That woman once loved me; why does she cast me away today? Alas¹⁷! 'tis because I am poor and an orphan¹⁸, because I have no more means and people are not esteemed¹⁹ save in reason of the aid and benefits one imagines may be had of them." Wringing²⁰ her hands, Justine goes to find her cure; she describes her circumstances with the vigorous candor²¹ proper to her years.... She was wearing a little white garment, her lovely hair was negligently²² tucked up under her bonnet²³, her breast, whose development had scarcely begun, was hidden beneath two or three folds of gauze, her pretty face had somewhat of pallor owing to the unhappiness consuming her, a few tears rolled from her eyes and lent to them an additional expressiveness²⁴...

 

"You observe me, Monsieur," said she to the saintly ecclesiastic²⁵... "Yes, you observe me in what for a girl is a most dreadful position; I have lost my father and mother... Heaven has taken them from me at an age when I stand in greatest need of their assistance... They died ruined, Monsieur; we no longer have anything. There," she continued, "is all they left me," and she displayed her dozen louis, "and nowhere to rest my poor head.... You will have pity upon me, Monsieur, will you not? You are Religion's minister and Religion was always my heart's virtue²⁶; 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 must become of me ?"

 

The charitable priest clapped an inquisitive²⁷ eye upon Justine, and made her answer, saying that the parish was heavily loaded; that it could not easily take new charges unto its bosom²⁸, but that if Justine wished to serve him, if she were prepared for hard toil²⁹, there would always be a crust of bread in his kitchen for her. And as he uttered those words, the gods' interpreter chuck'ed her under the chin; the kiss he gave her bespoke³⁰ rather too much worldliness for a man of the church, and Justine, who had understood only too well, thrust him away. "Monsieur," said she, "I ask neither alms of you nor a position as your scullion; it was all too recently I took leave of an estate loftier than that which might make those two favors desirable; I am not yet reduced to imploring³¹ them; I am soliciting³² advice whereof my youth and my misfortunes put me in need, and you would have me purchase it at an excessively inflated³⁴ price." Ashamed thus to have been unmasked, the pastor³⁵ promptly³⁶ drove the little creature away, and the unhappy Justine, twice rejected on the first day of her condemnation³⁷ to isolation³⁸, now enters a house above whose door she spies a shingle³⁹; she rents a small chamber⁴⁰ on the fourth floor, pays in advance for it, and, once established, gives herself over to lamentations all the more bitter because she is sensitive and because her little pride has just been compromised cruelly.

 

We will allow ourselves to leave her in this state for a short while in order to return to Juliette and to relate how, from the very ordinary condition in which she sets forth⁴¹, no better furnished with resources than her sister, she nevertheless attains⁴³, over a period of fifteen years, the position of a titled woman, with an income of thirty thousand pounds, very handsome jewels, two or three houses in the city, as many in the country and, at the present moment, the heart, the fortune and the confidence of Monsieur de Corville, Councillor to the State, an important man much esteemed and about to have a minister's post. Her rise was not, there can be no question of it, unattended by difficulties: 'tis by way of the most shameful⁴⁵, most onerous⁴⁶ apprenticeship⁴⁷ that these ladies attain⁴² their objectives; and 'tis in all likelihood a veteran of unnumbered campaigns one may find today abed with a Prince: perhaps she yet carries the humiliating marks of the brutality⁴⁸ of the libertines⁴⁹ into whose hands her youth and inexperience flung her long ago.

 

Upon leaving the convent, Juliette went to find a woman whose name she had once heard mentioned by a youthful friend; perverted⁵¹ was what she desired to be and this woman was to pervert⁵⁰ her; she arrived at her house with a small parcel under her arm, clad in a blue dressing⁵² gown nicely disarrayed⁵³, her hair straggling carelessly about, and showing the prettiest face in the world, if it is true that for certain eyes indecency may have its charms; she told her story to this woman and begged her to afford her the sanctuary⁵⁴ she had provided her former friend.

 

"How old are you?" Madame Duvergier demanded.

 

"I will be fifteen in a few days, Madame," Juliette replied.

 

"And never hath mortal . . ." the matron continued.

 

"No, Madame, I swear it," answered Juliette.

 

"But, you know, in those convents," said the old dame⁵⁵, "sometimes a confessor, a nun⁵⁶, a companion... I must have conclusive⁵⁷ evidence."

 

"You have but to look for it," Juliette replied with a blush.

 

And, having put on her spectacles, and having scrupulously⁵⁸ examined things here and there, the duenna declared to the girl:

 

"Why, you've only to remain here, pay strict attention to what I say, give proof of unending complaisance⁵⁹ and submissiveness to my practices, you need but be clean, economical, and frank with me, be prudent⁶⁰ with your comrades and fraudulent when dealing⁶¹ with men, and before ten years' time I shall have you fit to occupy the best second-story apartment: you'll have a commode, pier-glass mirrors before you and a maid behind, and the art you will have acquired from me will give you what you need to procure⁶² yourself the rest."

 

These suggestions having left her lips, Duvergier lays hands on Juliette's little parcel; she asks her whether she does not have some money, and Juliette having too candidly⁶³ admitted she had a hundred crowns, the dear mother confiscates⁶⁴ them, giving her new boarding guest the assurance her little fortune will be chanced at the lottery⁶⁵ for her, but that a girl must not have money. "It is," says she, "a means to doing evil, and in a period as corrupt⁶⁶ as ours, a wise and well-born girl should carefully avoid all which might lure⁶⁷ her into any snares⁶⁸. It is for your own good I speak, my little one," adds the duenna, "and you ought to be grateful for what I am doing." The sermon delivered, the newcomer is introduced to her colleagues; she is assigned a room in the house, and on the next day her maidenhead is put on sale.

 

Within four months the merchandise is sold successively to about one hundred buyers; some are content with the rose, others more fastidious or more depraved (for the question has not yet been decided) wish to bring to full flower the bud that grows adjacently. After each bout⁴⁴, Duvergier makes a few tailor's readjustments and for four months it is always the pristine⁶⁹ fruits the rascal⁷⁰ puts on the block. Finally, at the end of this harassing⁷¹ novitiate, Juliette obtains a lay sister's patents; from this moment onward⁷², she is a recognized girl of the house; thereafter she is to share in its profits and losses. Another apprenticeship; if in the first school, aside from a few extravagances, Juliette served Nature, she altogether ignores Nature's laws in the second, where a complete shambles⁷³ is made of what she once had of moral behavior; the triumph she obtains in vice³³ totally degrades her soul; she feels that, having been born for crime, she must at least commit it grandly and give over languishing⁷⁴ in a subaltern's role, which, although entailing⁷⁵ the same misconduct, although abasing⁷⁶ her equally, brings her a slighter, a much slighter profit. She is found agreeable by an elderly gentleman, much debauched, who at first has her come merely to attend to the affairs of the moment; she has the skill to cause herself magnificently to be kept; it is not long before she is appearing at the theater, at promenades⁷⁷, amongst the elite⁷⁸, the very cordon⁷⁹ bleu of the Cytherean order; she is beheld⁸⁰, mentioned, desired, and the clever creature knows so well how to manage her affairs that in less than four years she ruins six men, the poorest of whom had an annuity⁸¹ of one hundred thousand crowns. Nothing more is needed to make her reputation; the blindness of fashionable people is such that the more one of these creatures has demonstrated her dishonesty, the more eager they are to get upon her list; it seems that the degree of her degradation⁸² and her corruption⁸³ becomes the measure of the sentiments they dare display for her.

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