Prosper Mérimée

“ And, in truth, Lisabeta Ivanovna was a very unhappy girl.
"Thou shalt know by experience," said Dante, "how salt the savour is of other's bread and how sad a path it is to climb and descend another's stairs."
But who can depict the troubles of a young girl who is a companion to an old lady in high life? It was not that the Countess was wicked, but she possessed all the whims and fancies of a once pampered and fashionable woman. She was miserly, rude and as selfish as one can be who feels she is gradually being set aside by the world. ”

“ There was no stir in the streets, where only a few listless idlers—always the same—were to be seen; no women at all, except an odd peasant come in to sell her produce; no loud talk, laughter, and singing, as in the Italian towns. Sometimes, under the shade of a tree on the public promenade, a dozen armed peasants will play at cards or watch each other play; they never shout or wrangle; if they get hot over the game, pistol shots ring out, and this always before the utterance of any threat. The Corsican is grave and silent by nature. ”

“ To prove that I am thinking of you, here is a little flower which I plucked in my walk at sunset. It is the only kind that I can send. All other varieties are colossal.
What are you doing? Of what are you thinking? You never tell me what you really think, and it is folly for me to ask you. I have had but few comfortable moments since I came away. Skies of leaden gray, all sorts of accidents, and all sorts of discomforts; a broken wheel, a bruised eye—but they are all patched up now in some sort of fashion. But what I find most difficult to become accustomed to is solitude. ”

“ If not, good-night to you, and forgive me for having disturbed your slumbers!"
"Ah, your guide! your guide! I had my doubts of him at first—but—I'll settle with him! Farewell, señor. May God reward you for the service I owe you! I am not quite so wicked as you think me. Yes, I still have something in me that an honest man may pity. Farewell, señor! I have only one regret—that I can not pay my debt to you!"
"As a reward for the service I have done you, Don José, promise me you'll suspect nobody—nor seek for vengeance. Here are some cigars for your journey. Good luck to you." ”

“ Suddenly the door opened and Gabrielle rushed into his arms.
"Forgive me!" she cried, strangling him almost in her passion; "forgive me! I know it now; I love only you; and I love you better now than if you had not done what you blame yourself for. If you like, I will steal; I have stolen before now.... Yes, I have stolen; I took a gold watch.... What worse could one do?"
Roger shook his head incredulously, but his face seemed to brighten.
"No, my poor child," he said, gently repulsing her. "I must kill myself; there is no other course for me. I suffer so greatly that I cannot bear my grief." ”

“ I queried in my own mind whether I had done right to save a robber, and possibly a murderer, from the gallows, simply and solely because I had eaten ham and rice in his company. Had I not betrayed my guide, who was supporting the cause of law and order? Had I not exposed him to a ruffian’s vengeance? But then, what about the laws of hospitality?
“A mere savage prejudice,” said I to myself. “I shall have to answer for all the crimes this brigand may commit in future.” Yet is that instinct of the conscience which resists every argument really a prejudice? ”

“ Why is it, when we have become all we are to each other, that you must reflect for several days before replying frankly to the simplest question of mine?... Between your reason and your heart, I never feel sure which will win; you do not know yourself, but you give the preference always to your reason.... If you have committed any wrong, it is assuredly that preference which you give to your pride over all the tenderness of your nature. The first sentiment is to the second as a colossus to a pygmy. And that pride of yours is at bottom nothing but a kind of selfishness. ”

“ To the Russian, to Tourguenieff, to Tolstoi, to Gorki, the soul is interesting in itself, for its own sake. Mérimée only pays heed to it when it does something interesting, when it precipitates itself into action. That is why so many Russian stories, with all their charm and meaning, remain nebulous, and why Mérimée's are always hard, firm, each complete as a drama. Look at Gorki, and how easily he loses the thread of his narrative or how often he forgets to have a thread to follow, so significant to him is the mere existence of these people, among whose actions he is embarrassed to choose. ”

“ The moon was rising behind the redoubt of Cheverino, which stood two cannon-shots from our encampment. The moon was large and red, as is common at her rising; but that night she seemed to me of extraordinary size. For an instant the redoubt stood out coal-black against the glittering disk. It resembled the cone of a volcano at the moment of eruption.
An old soldier, at whose side I found myself, observed the colour of the moon.
"She is very red," he said. "It is a sign that it will cost us dear to win this wonderful redoubt." ”

“ It would be terrible to abandon her. I should never forgive myself. No, I can not abandon her. You will not exact that of me, madam."
"She would not lack for care from others. But, answer me, Max: do you love her?"
"Do I love her! Do I love her! No, I do not love her. That is a word which is out of place here. Love her! Alas! no. I only sought in her society distraction from a more serious sentiment which it was necessary to combat. That appears to you ridiculous, incomprehensible? The purity of your mind would not admit that one could seek a remedy like that. ”

“ A great deal has been said to me about the vindictive nature of your fellow-countrymen, and the fashion in which they take their vengeance. Was it not to that the prefect was alluding?”
“Miss Lydia! Can you believe it!” and Orso turned deadly pale.
“No, M. della Rebbia,” she said, interrupting him, “I know you to be a most honourable gentleman. You have told me yourself that it was only the common people in your country who still practised the vendetta—which you are pleased to describe as a kind of duel.” ”

“ At Cordova a great many idlers collect, toward sunset, in the quay that runs along the right bank of the Guadalquivir. Promenaders on the spot have to breathe the odour of a tan yard which still keeps up the ancient fame of the country in connection with the curing of leather. But to atone for this, they enjoy a sight which has a charm of its own. A few minutes before the Angelus bell rings, a great company of women gathers beside the river, just below the quay, which is rather a high one. Not a man would dare to join its ranks. ”

“ It is possible that I shall be in Paris again about the beginning of October; but if I have the least courage I shall go to Strasburg, to Lyons, and from there to Marseilles. I fear this courage will be lacking, especially if you think of returning. During your absence I have made from memory two full-length portraits of you. They are both like you, but need to be retouched. We shall see if you will like them. I am bored to death, and should like to see it rain in torrents, but the weather is perfectly dry. Nothing falls but the leaves. There will remain not the sign of one in October. ”

“ The two horses could hardly walk abreast. It was not, therefore, to be wondered at that even so good a horseman as Thémines should graze against Saint-Clair's foot as he walked along with him. This put the finishing touch to his anger, and he could not contain himself any longer. He rose in his stirrups and struck Thémines' horse sharply across the nose with his whip.
"What the devil is the matter with you, Auguste?" cried Thémines. "Why do you strike my horse?"
"Why do you pursue me?" roared Saint-Clair.
"Have you lost your senses, Saint-Clair? You forget to whom you are talking." ”

“ But at that moment the only thing that struck Orso in this particular landscape was one point—an important one, it is true, in his present circumstances. The bareness of the ground rendered any kind of ambush impossible, and the man who has reason to fear that at any moment he may see a gun-barrel thrust out of a thicket straight at his own chest, looks on a stretch of smooth ground, with nothing on it to intercept his view, as a kind of oasis. ”

“ To-day, Famin, the friend who invited me to dinner, wished to sell me his horse. A thousand dollars! He is a superb animal! My first impulse was to buy him. Then I said to myself that I was not rich enough to put a thousand dollars into a fancy, and I continued to walk."
"It is marvellous, Max. But do you know what it is necessary to do in order to continue undisturbed in that good resolution? It is necessary for you to marry."
"Ah! for me to marry? Why not? But who would have me? I, who have no right to be particular, I should wish for a wife— Oh! no, there is no one left who pleases me." ”

“ Tell me, please, if it is not infinitely more creditable for this little girl to lead the life she does, than for you who enjoy the singular good fortune of an irreproachable environment, and of a temperament of such refinement that it seems to me to sum up the qualities of an entire civilisation. I must tell you the truth. I can endure the society of ignoble people only at rare intervals, and then only because of an inexhaustible curiosity which I feel for every variety of the human species. I can never tolerate low society among men. ”

“ The impetuous gallop of his horse prevented him from thinking consecutively, but he felt vaguely that his happiness in life had gone for ever, and that it had been shattered by a dead man and an Etruscan vase.
After reaching home he threw himself on the same couch upon which he had dreamed for so long and so deliciously, and analysed his happiness the evening before. His most cherished dream had been that his mistress was different from other women, that she had not loved nor ever would love anyone but himself. Now this exquisite dream must perish in the light of a sad and cruel reality. ”