Marie Bashkirtseff (From Childhood to Girlhood) - Part 8
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Part 8

I have a longing for amus.e.m.e.nt, I should like to invite everybody to the house, to give a dinner, a ball, a supper, a reception, to have some sort of diabolical carnival--I should like to have everybody, everybody. I am not ill-natured at heart, I am only a little crazy.

_Ah! son felica! Ah! son rapita Dio Virgina Sanctissima._

We went to the opera, Mamma and I in the 3d box in the first row, my aunt and Dina in the 2nd next to the Marvel. T---- came in, General B---- was with us. The door opened and the Marvel appeared.

"Well," said I, "you celebrated Christmas."

"Ah! yes, just think, I received a pair of slippers."

"Slippers!"

"Yes, and mine were so worn out that they came very opportunely, and an anonymous letter which was not signed--that is very natural, anonymous letters are never signed. And the same day I received a letter, a visiting card: _The Sisters of the Good Shepherd_."

Everybody laughed.

"What does P.P.C. mean?" I asked.

"Pays Parting Calls."

"Oh, yes, that's true."

"But for some time I have received a great many things, the other day a bit of broken rock, pierced by an arrow. All the people in the box shouted with laughter, and so did I. But I saw plainly that he was furiously angry and suspected everything. It is terrible that only the most foolish little pranks should be remembered."

"You are very fortunate, I received nothing at all."

"Ah! If you wish, I'll send you some slippers."

"But if they are so big, what should I do with them?"

"Never mind, I'll send you all the things."

"That is kind, I am quite overpowered."

BOOK LI

_From Sunday, December 26th, to Sunday, January 9th, 1876; Nice, Promenade des Anglais, 55 bis, in my villa.--From Monday, January 3d, in Rome, Hotel de Londres, Piazza di Spagna._

Sunday, December 26th, 1875.

We went to hear the band. G. M---- came to talk to us and, among other compliments, said to me: "M----, I would like to give you some of my experience, I love you so much! No, really, Madame,"--addressing my mother--"she has such an extraordinary mind, so developed, so broadened. But it lacks experience. M----, my child, I will give you some advice."

"Give it, Monsieur, give it."

"Well, never love seriously, for there not in me whole world a man worthy your love."

"Yes, I know that. I know that men are not equal to women. You are not equal to your wife, I can tell you."

"You are right, M----."

He is right. I shall never love wholly. I shall worship, I shall rave, I shall commit follies and even, if opportunity offers, have a romance. But I shall not love, for candidly in my inmost heart, I am convinced of the villainy of men. Not only that, I do not find any one worthy of my love, either morally or physically. It is useless to say and think all I want. A---- will never be anything but a good-looking member of the fashionable society of Nice--a gay liver, almost a fop. Oh, no; every man has some defect that prevents loving him entirely. One is stupid, another awkward, another ugly, another--in short, I seek physical and moral perfection.

Now that it is two o'clock in the morning, that I am shut up in my room, wrapped in my long white dressing-gown, my feet bare and my hair down, like a virgin martyr, I can give myself up to a throng of bitter reflections. I shall go, carrying in my heart all the sorrowful and wicked things that can be contained there.

December 28th, 1875.

I don't want public pity, but I should like to have one creature to understand me, compa.s.sionate me, weep with me sincerely, knowing why she was weeping, seeing with me into the farthest corner of my heart. What is there more dastardly, more ugly, viler than mankind?

Wednesday, December 29th, 1875.

We went to see Mme. du M----. She gave me seven letters of introduction for Rome. May G.o.d grant that they will be of the service this excellent woman desires, she loves me so much! No doubt everybody has trouble. One is ill, another is in love, another wants money, another is bored. You will say, perhaps, "Poor little idler, she thinks she is the only person who is unhappy, while she is happier than most people." But my sorrow is the most hateful of all.

We lose a beloved one. We mourn for a year, two years, and remain sorrowful all our lives. The greatest grief loses its force with time, but an incessant, eternal torment!...

I have just read Mme. du M----'s letters. No one could be kinder, no one could be more charming. And, just think, the greater part of the time those who would like to do things cannot. It is six years since she left Rome and I doubt whether her acquaintances remember her; and then, her influence was never great.

"Have you suffered, wept, and languished, Thinking hope was all in vain, Soul in mourning, torn heart anguished?

Then you understand my pain."

_Sappho_ was given to-night. I wore a sort of Neapolitan shirt of blue crepe de Chine and old lace, with a white front. It can't be described--it was as original and charming as possible, with a white skirt and an alms-bag of white satin. We arrived at the end of the first act, and were near P---- and R----, and I heard the voice of the Marvel. Nothing can be said against her face, it is blooming; whether real or artificial is of little consequence. She has hair--oh, I don't know. At Spa, she was fairer than I; here, she is darker

_"d'un serpent, jaune et sifflant_."

Now the American has gone home, and is doubtless in a sleep which will preserve her twenty-seven-year-old complexion, while I am awake. Just now I fell on my knees sobbing, beseeching G.o.d, with my arms outstretched, my eyes fixed on s.p.a.ce before me, exactly as if G.o.d was there in my room. I believe I am uttering insolent things to G.o.d.

The S----'s came, and after dinner we began to tell fortunes and laughed almost as much as we did before, that is, the others did, but I could not. Then we poured melted wax into cold water (it is the shadow that is looked at). I had in succession a lion couchant with one of his front paws extended, holding a rose; isn't it odd?

Then a great heap of something surmounted by a garland held by Cupids.

As for M----, her wax figure cast a horrible shadow. A woman lying as if dead with her hands crossed on her breast. O---- and Dina had insignificant shadows. And, at fifteen minutes before midnight, four mirrors were brought, two for Dina and two for me, and we took up the great fortune telling.

I looked with all my eyes, without stirring, almost without breathing. In the proper costume of night-gown and unbound hair. But everything was very vague; it quivered, danced, formed, and reformed every instant.

Sat.u.r.day, January 1st, 1876.

Here is the new year. Greeting and mercy. Well, the first day of 1876 was not so bad as I expected. They say the whole year is spent very much like the first day, and it is true. I spent the first of last January in the cars, and I have really travelled a great deal.

To-morrow, yes, to-morrow I shall be glad to go. I am perfectly happy, for I have made a plan--a plan that will fail like the others, but which amuses me in the meanwhile. If it were not two o'clock in the morning, I would write a whole story of the sale of a soul. The brutes--I have not wept, I have not felt sad once. A very pleasant day to commence the year. I shall go and think only of returning. No doubt I shall change my mind in Rome. All the same, this is where I should like to live.

I had already closed my book, but I and a lot of things to say. I have looked at the great caricature, there are five of us. I have thought of everything; of Mme. B----, of the English, of the people of Nice, of S----, of "Mignon." In a word, a quant.i.ty of things. I had a great deal to say, and lo! I stop.

It is tiresome to go, but it is horrible to stay. P---- has dramatic emotions so genuine that she delights and thrills me. Come, what was I going to write? That I am calm and agitated, sorrowful and joyous, jealous and indifferent. It seems to me that fastidious society is possible to have and, at the same time, it is impossible.