OF FICTION, POETRY, HISTORY, AND GENERAL LITERATURE. THE MARRIAGE PORTION. (Translated from the French.) I was brought up in the village of Montreuil, by the good old curé himself; and the little I know of music was gained from him in the happiest part of my lifethe time when I sang in the choir of his chapel, and had round red cheeks, which people used to tap when I passed through the streets, a sweet, clear voice, long curling locks, loaded with powder, wooden shoes, and a blue frock. I do not look in the glass very often, but I think, some.. times, that my appearance is somewhat different now. One of my greatest delights was an old spinet, not in very good tune, which the curé had in his parlour, and on which I was never weary of pounding; my ear was not bad, and the good old man took pains to teach me the gamut and to make me practise solfeggio. When he was pleased with me, he used to pinch my cheeks till they were purple, and say to me, 46 Maturin, my boy, your father and mother were only poor peasants, but if you become perfect in your catechism and your solfeggio, and leave off playing with that rusty old musket, there is no fear of your not becoming a first-rate musician." This gave me courage, and I thumped away, harder than ever, upon the keys of the spinet, of which about half the wires were broken. Sometimes I was allowed to go out and play, but my first pleasure was to go, with a lump of bread in my hand, and sit down at the end of the park of Montreuil, close to a party of masons and other workmen, who were building a little pavilion for the queen. Thither I led by the hand a little girl, of nearly my own age, whom the curé also instructed in music, because she had a very fine voice. Her name was Pierrette, and her mother was the old gentleman's housekeeper. She was about thirteen years old, and already so beautiful that people used to stop her as she went along, to admire her bright eyes and her exquisite shape, and I have more than once seen great ladies get out of their carriages to kiss her and talk to her. But she thought nothing of her own sweet face, and loved me like a brother, Our custom of going to look at the workmen, led us to make acquaintance with a young stone-cutter, some eight or ten years older than ourselves. He made us sit near him upon the grass or a piece of timber, and when he had a very large stone to cut through, Pierrette threw water upon the saw, and I laid hold of one end and helped him as much as I could; thus we became the best friends in the world. His disposition was gentle and kind, always good-humoured, and sometimes gay, but not often. His father, an architect, had been so thoroughly ruined, that the young man was obliged to work hard for his living, and he had resigned himself to his fate very cheerfully; but nature had made him a poet. He always sang at his work, making the poetry as he went along, and every new block of stone that he took in hand was sure to give birth to a new series of couplets. Sometimes he would make Pierrette and me sing his verses, and sometimes amuse himself by composing little dialogues, which he made us repeat with appropriate gestures, as though we were acting scenes in a play. But with all this, he was a good workman, and minded his business, as the event proved, for in less than a year he became a master mason. He had to support by his labour his old widowed mother, and two little brothers, who often came to see him at work, and then he sang more gaily than ever. We used to call him plain Michael, but his full name was Michael-Jean Sedaine, afterwards so well known as that of a distinguished dramatist. on a rich dress of rose-coloured silk; she You shall have mine in ex "Oh madame," was all that Pierrette could utter. The other lady began to smile, but with a gentle, tender, and melancholy expression, which I have never forgotten, and advancing towards us, she took the hand of Pierrette, and bade her approach, telling her at the same time that nobody disputed the wishes of the lady who had addressed her. "Make no change whatever in your dress," resumed the lady in the rosecoloured silk, menacing her playfully with a little gold-handled riding-whip which she carried in her hand; and then turning to me she said, “ And here is a fine lad, too; he must become a soldier, and then you shall be married to each other." The good cure of Montreuil loved me very much, and treated me so kindly that I should have utterly forgotten, if he had not constantly reminded me, that I was the offspring of two poor peasants, whom She spoke laughingly and quickly, and the small-pox had carried off, almost then giving the cheek of Pierrette a before I had time even to see them. At gentle tap, she left us utterly amazed and sixteen I was wild and ignorant enough, dumb with admiration and astonishment. but I knew a little Latin, a great deal of When they were gone we looked at each music, and was remarkably skilful in all other without saying a word, and, as if sorts of garden labour. My life was hap- by mutual impulse, turned our faces py, for Pierrette was always with me, and toward the house of the curé, where we I could look at her as I worked, even soon arrived, holding each other by the though I had nothing to say. One day hand as usual, and very silent, but not a as I was lopping the branches of an elm little delighted with our adventure. The in the park of Montreuil. and binding good old man soon perceived that somethem up in little fagots, Pierrette said to thing had happened, for Pierrette's face me, "Oh Maturin, here are two grand was glowing with blushes, and I hung and beautiful ladies coming towards us my head as if ashamed to meet his eye. along the alley; what shall we do?" He asked what was the matter, and I replied very gravely, "Monsieur le curé, I want to be a soldier." I thought he would have fallen to the ground. "What?" he exclaimed; "do you wish I looked, and beheld, sure enough, two young and lovely women advancing rapidly, one a little behind the other. The first was the tallest of the two, and had to leave me? For heaven's sake, Pierette, what has happened to him, that he wants to be a soldier? Do you love me no longer, Maturin; have you lost all your affection for Pierrette? What have we done to you? And what will become of the fine education I have given you? Time finely lost, indeed! But speak, speak, ungrateful boy," he added, shaking me by the shoulder. I hung my head still lower, and looked steadfastly at my wooden shoes, but answered firmly, "I want to be a soldier." The old housekeeper brought a glass of water to the curé, and began to cry; Pierrette cried too, and said not a word, but she was not angry at my wishing to be a soldier, for she knew that it was for the sake of marrying her, as the lady in the park had said. Just at this moment two tall powdered laqueys entered, with a waiting-maid who looked like a great lady, and inquired whether Pierrette had packed up her dress for the queen and the Princesse de Lamballe. The poor old curè was struck dumb, and Pierrette and her mother were so frightened that they had not courage to open a little casket which the waiting-maid had brought in exchange for Pierrette's clothes; and they went up stairs to their dressingroom, very much as one might go to the scaffold. As soon as they were gone, the curé questioned me as to the meaning of all this, and I told him the whole story as briefly as I could. "And it is for this that you wish to leave us?" he said, taking me by both hands; " you do not perceive that the greatest lady in Europe only spoke to a little peasant like you from the impulse of the moment, and has already forgotten you and all your concerns. If any one should tell her that you had taken her word for a positive command, she would say that you were a great blockhead, and that for any thing she cared, you might remain a gardener to the end of your life. Besides, what will you gain by enlisting as a soldier? You may earn six times as much by gardening and teaching music; you will lose the good principles I have taught you, and instead of continuing modest, gentle, and well-behaved, become rude, vicious, and insolent. Pierrette will never be the wife of a rough and dissipated soldier, and her mother would forbid it, were she herself ever so willing." I still kept my eyes fixed upon the straps of my wooden shoes, pouting and scratching my head, and could only mutter in reply, "I cannot help it, mon. sieur; I want to be a soldier." The good curé had nothing more to say; so he opened the door, and with a sorrowful look, pointed toward Versailles and left me. I understood his gesture, and marched out without a word. I should have done exactly as he did, had I been in his place, but I did not think so then. I stuck my cap on one side of my head, pulled up the collar of my blue frock, took my stick in my hand, and set out at once for Versailles, without bidding adieu to any one. Stopping at a little pot-house on the road, I found three dashing fellows in cocked hats, edged with gold, white uniforms turned up with rose-coloured facings, their long mustaches stiff with pomatum, and their heads covered with powder; they were recruiting sergeants of the royal regiment of Auvergne. They told me that I had only to seat myself at table with them, to form a just notion of the perfect felicity perpetually enjoyed by the soldiers of that regiment. They made me eat roasted chicken, potted hare, and partridge, and drink superb claret and champagne; and they swore to me upon their honour that in the Auvergne Royale, I should eat and drink nothing worse from one year's end to another. Afterward I found out how closely they adhered to truth in their eulogiums. They swore to me also (for they did swear like troopers) that in their regiment the soldier's life was one of perfect liberty; that the common soldiers were better off than the officers in any other, enjoying a most agreeable society of gay fellows and pretty women; that the music was superb, and that above all, they made every thing in the world of those who could play on the piano. This last circumstance decided me. The next day, then, I had the honour of belonging to the royal regiment of Auvergne. It was a fine corps, no doubt, but then I could see neither Pierrette nor the curé. I asked for roasted chicken for my dinner, and they gave me that delicious compound of bread, tough mutton, and potatoes, known all over the world by the name of ratatouille. Moreover, they taught me to hold up my head and to perform the manual exercise with remarkable precision-to march in ordinary time, quick time and doublequick: they made me wear a long thick queue, that dangled half way down my back; and they did me the honour to promise that in time, if I behaved well, I should be admitted into the first com pany of grenadiers. But I saw nothing of Pierrette or the curé, and I had no time for music. One fine day, when I had committed some trifling error at drill, they made me kneel upon the pavement perfectly motionless; having directly in front of me a blazing July sun, upon which I was forced to gaze without even winking, with my musket at my shoulder in the attitude of firing; and I was encouraged to maintain my luxurious position by the presence of an honest corporal, who raised the muzzle of my piece from time to time, if I allowed it to descend an inch or two from fatigue, by rapping me over the knuckles with his cane. It was a newly-invented punishment, of which the colonel had taken it into his head to make trial. I had been some twenty minutes in this attitude, doing my best to enact the part of a statue or a petrifaction, when I saw at the end of my gun, the quiet, slender figure of my good friend Michael, the stone-cutter. "You have come at a lucky moment," said I, "and you will oblige me very particularly, if you will just place your cane for an instant under my bayonet, without letting anybody see you; the cane will be none the worse, and my arms will feel a great deal better." "Ah, Maturin my friend," he replied, "you are well punished for leaving Montreuil; you are in a fair way to lose all the music you used to love so much, and I suspect that what you hear at the parade, is hardly worth the exchange." "It is all the same," I answered, raising my gun from the support of his cane, with a feeling of pride; "it is all the same; every one has his notion." "You will never again raise those fine peaches of Montreuil, with Pierrette for your assistant; and her lips are fresher and riper than they." "It is all the same," I repeated: "" every one to his notion." "You will have to kneel a long time upon these hard stones, taking aim at nothing, before you get to be even a simple corporal.” It is all the same," I answered once more; if I get on but slowly, still I shall get on; success is sure, to him who can afford to wait with patience; and when I get to be a sergeant, I shall be something, and then I will marry Pier rette. Michael sighed. "Ah, Maturin," said he, "you are any thing but wise; you are too ambitious and too proud, my friend. Would you not like to be dis charged, if some one would buy a substitute for you, and come and marry. Pierrette at once?" "Michael," I answered, “your condition seems to be changed, as well as your character; you no longer seem to be a mason, for you wear a velvet doublet instead of a jacket and an apron. But I remember what you used to say; every one must fulfil his destiny.' I would not marry with other people's. money, and I am fulfilling my destiny, as you see. Besides, it was the queen who put this notion into my head, and what the queen says must be right. She told me to become a soldier, and that then we should be married." "But tell me," said Michael, "if the queen would give you the money, would you take it and marry Pierrette?" Indeed, it is, my friend; I construct little pieces that are not always bad. You shall sec.' "I am very glad to hear it," I answered; or rather I would have answered, had it not been for the corporal who just then came up, and gave Michael's cane such a bang with his stick, that it flew a dozen yards into the air; and at the same time he ordered the sentinel to the black hole, for allowing a citizen to come upon the parade ground. the house for years, if not for ever. One day as she was sitting at the door of the curé, working and singing as if nothing had happened, she saw a splendid carriage with six horses come quickly up the avenue, driven by four postillions in rose-coloured livery, and with powdered hair, very handsome, and so little that at a distance nothing could be seen of them but their great jack-boots. But what will you think when I tell you that the footmen who rode before, drew up precisely at the door of the curé's house, where the carriage was polite enough to stop also, and its door to open? There was nobody within. As Pierrette was staring with all her eyes, the footman took off his hat with a superb bow, and begged her to have the goodness to take a seat in the carriage. You will think, perhaps, that Pierrette made objections; not a bit! she had too much good sense for that. She merely took off her wooden shoes, put on a pair of morocco, with silver buckles, folded and laid away her work, and then walked to the carriage leaning upon the arm of the footman, just as though she had done so all her life: since she had exchanged dresses with the queen, she was not to be astonished by anything. The carriage was driven to Trianon, and Pierrette was led by the obsequious footman through gilded rooms with floors of rose-wood and mahogany, till at last she heard from an adjoining apartment a joyous and musical laugh which frightened her a little; but as soon as the door was opened her courage returned, for she beheld her friend the queen and the Princesse de Lamballe. "Ah, here she is," exclaimed the queen, with a gay and happy smile; and she ran to her and took both her hands. "Is she not fresh and blooming? The very creature for our little project. And she has talent too, never fear. Listen to me, my girl," continued Marie Antoinette; "two gentlemen are coming here directly; whether you know thein or not, say nothing and do nothing but what they bid you. I know that you can sing, and they will wish to hear you; if they tell you to rise, to sit, to walk, to go and come; you will rise, sit, walk, go out and return, just as they desire you. Do you understand? All this is for your good. Madame and I will teach you something that you must learn, and all that we shall require in return will be that you come to us every day for an hour, and do exactly what we require of you. That is not much, is it, my good and pretty girl?" Pierrette made no answer, save with a blush; but she felt so happy that she could have kissed the beautiful little queen as though she had been her schoolfellow. Her instructions were scarcely finished when two men came in, one tall and thin, the other short and fat. When Pierrette saw the tall one, she could not help exclaiming, "Goodness! It is -." But she remembered her lesson, and bit her lip to prevent herself from speaking. "Well," said the queen, "what do you think of her, gentlemen?" "Is she not Rose herself?" said Michael Sedaine. "A single note, madame," said the short, stout gentleman, and I shall know whether she is the Rose for Monsigny, as well as for Sedaine. "Come, my child," added Gretry, turning to Pierrette, "let me hear you try the gamut;' and he sounded the ut, re, mi, fa, sol. Pierrette repeated it after him. "She has a superb voice," added Gretry. The queen clapped her hands with delight, and exclaimed, "She will gain her marriage portion." In the meantime, my regiment was ordered to Orleans, and I was dreadfully home-sick. Three months had passed away, and I had heard nothing of Michael, or the curé, or Pierrette. I grew thin, and pale, and weak, and my comrades laughed at me; some because they thought me really ill, and others because they believed that I was only pretending. There was nothing left for me but to die, in order to convince them of their error, and yet I was not altogether tired of living. One day, an officer of my company came to me, and said, "Maturin, you can read; come, and look at this placard." And he led me to a wall, upon which was posted the following playbill: "BY THE ROYAL COMMAND. "On Monday next will be performed the new tragedy of Irene, by M. de Voltaire, and the operetta of Rose el Colas; the words by M. de Sedaine, and the music by M. Monsigny; being for the benefit of the celebrated Mademoiselle Colombe, who will appear as Rose in the operetta. Her Majesty, the queen, has condescended to promise that, on this night, she will honour the theatre with her presence." |