Saturday, 15 December 1877

Naturally Breslau had an enormous success — the wretch does draw well.
And I! They found some very good things in my head and some not bad in my academy figure.
I am... I know not what.
Breslau has been drawing for three years and I for two months... no matter — it is outrageous! Ah! Had I started three years ago — three years is not enormous — I should be well known by now.
It is enough to make one crack one’s skull — or else marry the Prince de Bourbon, that cretin who paid a visit today with the following card:
H.R.H. [words blacked out]
Philippe de Bourbon.
The wretch is cousin to the King of Naples and nephew to the Emperor of Brazil. Ape! And he paints — the vile creature!
Ah! Wretch, ah! Fool, ah! Good-for-nothing, ah! Disgusting, unworthy, abominable, vain, useless, absurd, bored, boring, ridiculous, weak, mad, cowardly, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting!!
A comedy is being played out in the atelier. A subscription had been organised to present Robert-Fleury and Julian with a photograph of all the students in the atelier. At precisely that moment Amélie, forgetting herself in her desire to play a sort of directress, says something impertinent to Breslau — who retorts — and the atelier divides. The Swiss girls, five in number: one for all, all for one. Amélie is no longer spoken to; she, sensing she has made a blunder, launches gossip through the servant-girl to the effect that the Swiss girls are willing to pose but unwilling to pay. The daughters of William Tell refuse to take part in the subscription and are thoroughly offended. I collect them in the anteroom and deliver them a speech demonstrating the stupidity of their conduct: by acting thus, they insult the masters and give Amélie enormous satisfaction by attaching extreme importance to her.
In short, they reverse their decision. A little later Amélie approaches me and says that I acted with excellent conciliatory intentions, but that if these young ladies regret what they have given it will be returned to them:
— Their money will be withdrawn.
I continue with my leg and, having reached the ankle, rise and ask her in a good-natured tone by what right she wishes these ladies — students of Messrs Julian and Robert-Fleury, as she is — to withdraw. the whole with a comic air of the most superb kind. The girl rages, not knowing what to answer; I go and sit down again calmly, thinking: she will contrive that most of the students withdraw, and the whole thing will fall through. Which is indeed what happens. Then, through Rosalie, who tells the maid, I let it be known that if the whole atelier refuses to pose, I, the Swiss girls and a few others will pose alone and offer the portrait to the masters, telling them that certain difficulties having arisen, the others refused to take part in this small tribute. And to show Amélie all the more plainly that I absolutely refuse to acknowledge her as a superior, as the poor creatures who speak no French, or the Frenchwomen in search of protection and gossip, have let her set herself up, I offer to break open the money box this morning at nine o’clock; that was before the arrival of the terrible Spanish girl. The proposal is seconded. It is carried out, and I count one hundred and seven francs and one sou. Then I go and announce the result in the plaster-cast room.
— Is Mademoiselle Amélie here? asks a sort of fruit-seller whose daughter is learning to draw.
— No, Madame.
— How strange, I thought it was she who had...
— It was all the students who gave, Madame; it was likewise all the students who wanted to know the result, and it was in front of them that the money box was broken open. Good day, Madame.
Amélie arrived and said nothing, but I can boast of having one more person who hates me.
I can also boast that I do not care a fig. The girl is false, stupid, full of her own wit, trotting out stale jokes that the Danish girls take for real wit.
Now it is over, I think. Tomorrow we pose. And if there is any scheming, I shall do as I said.
It lasted three days. And I, always polite, and always saying things out loud, half mocking and half in earnest. In short, I am satisfied with the way I have acted. An innocent air, conduct firm, supple and shrewd, never a word too many. Yesterday an imperious air as always but at the same time good-natured and simple, while saying the strongest things. They rage against me and I keep calm, since I fear nothing, and play Cassagnac for all I am worth. I say Cassagnac to make you understand; otherwise, I assure you, I am very much myself.
After all, “I have meddled in nothing and am here only to work. You ought to remember that, Breslau: you who have aptitude, who will have talent, instead of wearing yourself out at the trade of concierges and fools, remember it and do as I do.”
And as so far it is I who have the upper hand, I smile at everyone with my usual condescension, affability, grace, kindness, amiability, etc., etc.
All the qualities of a sovereign who makes herself humble for her own pleasure... and it is an immense pleasure!
Berthe came; she is not amusing.
I cannot draw!
Ah! wretch, it is your fault.

Notes

The motto of the Three Musketeers — Marie continuing her Dumas game from the entry of 28 November (076.0280). ↩