— Not too much Larderei, yes? said Doenhoff as he departed. Today is the day of the famous excursion to Sorrento, which I had opposed several times. Even in the train Larderei had begun to irritate me gently by talking to Dina. I grow uneasy every time he speaks to anyone but Maman or me. From Castellammare to Sorrento we arrange ourselves in a carriage: Maman, Dina, and Melissano on the forward seats, myself and Marcuard on the bench facing them, Bijou^bijou up on the box, a lazzarone^lazzarone clinging to the back of the carriage, and our considerable luggage of eight pieces — and off we go. All of this proceeded in a spirit of general, and particular, vexations. We snatched handkerchiefs, hats, gloves from one another. As for the rest, I was fairly calm — Larderei could speak to no one but the coachman — but soon I grew jealous even of the coachman, and I had the magnificent reprobate hold my parasol for me, while I rested my head on his arm, as if on account of the jolts, with a most particular pleasure. On entering the Hôtel de la Sirène, Melissano and Marcuard began to joke about Larderei, substituting the l for the r in Sirène — making it Silène.^silene That, from everything that was said afterward, is the name for La Righi — which I pretended not to understand while committing every word to memory. Almost immediately we mounted donkeys and set off for Massa — a wretched little village admirably situated. It was still light, but Larderei kept leaving me, my donkey went badly, I fell behind, and I suffered agonies at being seen in this state by Maman, who understands and feels everything as I do. By the time we arrived at Massa it was dark. I was frozen, in a foul mood; we sat down in a miserable tavern yard where a drunken lazzarone came to sing a song that seemed composed expressly for Larderei and... Silène. He listened to it pale and distracted. I was seething. On the way back we were alone together almost the entire time. I cannot think of that hour now without shivers of pleasure. We walked side by side along that magnificent road; in the dark one could barely see the other; I had veiled myself, and we talked in the most natural way in the world about the masked ball, about letters, about his duel. He took my hand from time to time and I lost myself in sensations new and wonderful. I told him he had interested me, while he was saying I was charming and that he loved me like a madman. I would have preferred not to hear it — I deserve something more than this passing declaration, this variety of amusement. — I have no wish to serve as your consolation... And what would you do if brigands attacked us? You no longer even have an arm to defend us with. — I have this one, and besides, the Eternal Father is very good; He has taken the use of my arm from me, but He has given me a magnificent pair of horns!^horns — A pair of what? We dissolved into evasions. I no longer remember whether dinner was merry; I know that we were serenaded and played to on a great many instruments. Mme Hamontoff has been in Sorrento three days; we go to call on her. To go anywhere at all, provided it means walking through dark streets on Larderei's arm. Marcuard courts Dina, who has grown much prettier, and Melissano is with Maman. Already at the end of dinner — during which they had spoken of that abominable woman in disguise, in such a way that had I not known, I might have failed to guess — already at the end of dinner I noticed with anguish that Larderei was tipsy.^gris I took his arm all the same, and I shall long remember that walk, mingled with suffering as it was. He was there beside me, saying any number of tender things that outraged me because his mind was on the other woman — and he was drunk! I kept telling him so, showering him with abuse, but it did nothing to sober him, and truly the pain was enormous, tempered only by the happiness of leaning on his arm, of feeling my hand foolishly caressed by his. — You are drunk, but you understand no doubt that you are abominable and improper; I am staying with you only to cure myself of you — do you hear me! And I kept repeating it to him endlessly. The terrace of the Hôtel Victoria would have been charming had this man not taken it into his head to talk to Dina. On the way back I took his arm, repeating that it was to cure myself of him. But listen: There was a king of Thule^thule Who faithful unto the grave Kept, in memory of his beloved, A golden cup, finely chased... — And your beloved, I said, interrupting my song — what did she leave you? — Ah! Yes, she left me debts. — And? — And a little girl. — And... what? — Good Lord, yes, a little girl — I have a little girl. My little Alexandrina. The note of tenderness he gave to my little Alexandrine turned me to stone — and fills me with fury! — You... have... you! Oh! How dare you tell me this!! You are mad! Drunk! Ah — if it were not to cure myself of you—!! — Yes, and I am giving her a special upbringing; she will be a celebrity. She drinks nothing but cognac. I was annihilated. I am furious. Enraged! If I were to heed the few lines I have scrawled in pencil in a darkened room, I would cry out that I love him, I love him, I love him! He is drunk, he is mad — mad not in jest, but truly, pathologically mad! Lost, insensate, drunk! And I love him!! Instead of taking me back to the hotel, he offers to stroll in the garden; I let myself be led. Do I have any will, I who am broken, humiliated, frightened?! These words of love, these drunken caresses on my poor hand — they outraged me and made me lose my head. He was saying something banal about Faust and Marguerite. We had spoken of it before dinner.^faust — I confess, I said, that I have never understood Faust. It has always struck me as dirty, cowardly, and base. — Yes, because Marguerite is deceived?... But that happens so often. Faust deceives, or Marguerite deceives... — It is not the same thing. — Marguerite deceives more often? — You have a vested interest in that view. — What? Why? — Because — because I cannot tell you everything... though I do not count you as a young man like others; for me you are forty-five, or else you are a woman — that is why I am so free with you. — Oh! Indeed! Well then, tell me why? Why not talk as two good friends? I should like to know your views... — Very well. Because a deceived Faust is merely supremely ridiculous, whereas a deceived Marguerite has nothing left to do but what she did: die. That was on the road to Massa. And in the garden he was drunk!! — Five more minutes, he said, five more minutes. So you are cured of me? — Almost... — Yes or no? — You are drunk! — Yes or no? I want to know. — Almost. And before, you interested me. — Yes? Only that? — Perhaps more... — Oh! Well then let that more continue — five more minutes, these five adorable, divine minutes... I love you... I love you. — I give you those five minutes, you see... — Yes, you are charming, sweet, I adore you, I would spend my life at your feet. You have but one fault: you are unmarried... You see! You see! I was terrified and wretched. — Give me your hand to kiss, he continued, I beg you — come now, what can it possibly matter to you... I ended by giving him my hand — not cold and indifferent, but frozen and full of wild tenderness for him. He kissed it. O dignity! O sanctity of love! Go stuff yourself under the bench, you old Lustucru,^lustucru you stuffed goose, you old Swiss of the thirteen cantons!^swiss As Larderei says to Marcuard. I sat on the steps of the porch; he sat at my feet and took my hand, bending toward my knees his face, which in the night — made up and reshaped by shadows — seemed to me of a rare beauty and refinement. I was sad; he was half drunk. Him drunk! Drunk!! Think of it — drunk! That was all that was needed! I believe he said something obscene to me. I did not understand it. I love him. I did not know how to make my way back in; my evil genius, the faun^faun Melissano, came to my assistance by joining us. The party was assembled in the great anteroom. Larderei spoke of departing the next morning; Marcuard, wounded and stung by this rudeness, replied that he would stay to escort the ladies. I did not know what to say and felt ill. Tea was served; Larderei wanted cognac. I look at him with fear and pain. I think of my little Alexandrine and fling my cup, which shatters into a thousand pieces on the marble tiles. We said good night to one another in an atmosphere of considerable coldness. I no longer existed. All the rooms are adjoining; closing the door we find ourselves in Larderei and Melissano's room, from which we exit to return to ours. I had barely given my hand to Larderei and gone out first when he caught up with me in the corridor and, with a swiftness of which only he is capable, kissed my hand. [Written across the page: There was something serious in that gesture — it was as if he were asking my forgiveness.] Immediately I pressed my ear to the door. I had spent a long, very long time writing down a heap of nonsense with Melissano in order at last to hear this! — Well, asked Melissano, how did it go, out there? — Bah! replied Larderei, lying down, I kissed her hand. — Only that? — My dear fellow, she had an answer for everything. With my breast pressed against the door I listened to these cynical exchanges — it is too much for a single day. I found myself indignant aloud at everything, everything, everything! Then I recalled the dignified things I had said, and took comfort in them... I love him; he does not love me; he is mad, drunk, lost! I prayed for a long while and tried to weep, but I was too overwrought, too suffering. And have I come to this then, for — !!! ---