My Neighbor Raymond Part 34

"They have made quite a sensation. All the ladies are saying, in a joking way, that they must have me to write their husbands' epitaphs.

The beginning is rather fine:

"'O dog of nature, faithful animal!'"

"I've heard of a man of nature; but I confess that this is the first time I ever knew the epithet to be applied to a beast. So you think, my dear Raymond, that animals may be moral perverts, do you?"

"What's that! why, don't you see it every day? Look at the poor creatures that have to dance and bow and caper and jump through rings to the notes of the flageolet! They have received an education. The marchioness's dog did everything she wanted him to; he snapped at everybody who went near his mistress, and he jumped on the table during dinner to eat out of the plates and dishes. That's the natural instinct, and I maintain that 'dog of nature' is a very happy expression."

"Come, come, Monsieur Raymond; drop your _dog_ and finish dressing. If you spend so much time over every part of your costume, we shall not arrive before midnight."

"I am at your service. I have got on my boots and breeches; but it seems to me there's a crease on the left-hand side behind."

"When you have your coat on, n.o.body will see it."

"True; but in walking or dancing, the coat tails spread."

"Well! what does this crease amount to? do you think that the company is going to keep its eye on your rump?"

"I tell you, a crease may make a great difference in a man's looks; women notice everything."

"The woman who takes any notice of such things must have her hands full at a large party!"

"It sets better now. Ah! my cravat."

"That will be a long job."

"Oh, no! I have made a study of that article of dress, and it goes all alone now. There! that's it. Ought I to turn the ends up or down?"

"Turn them either way you choose; but try to make up your mind."

"Well, I'll pull 'em out straight. What do you think of that knot?"

"Beautiful! you are stunning!"

"_Stunning_ is too strong a word; but I think that I look rather well; I've just got three pins to put in."

"Great G.o.d! we shan't get started at eight o'clock!"

"The devil! this is terribly embarra.s.sing; I ought to have thought about it sooner."

"What's the matter? have you another engagement?"

"I don't know whether I ought to put this turquoise above or below my emerald."

"Morbleu! Monsieur Raymond, my patience is exhausted; I am going to start without you."

"Here I am! here I am, neighbor! Faith! I have put the turquoise above, no matter what happens."

"That's very fortunate."

"Now, the coat--the hat--the gloves--and I'm all ready, you see."

"Amazing! Let's be off."

"All right. Oh! I beg your pardon: I forgot a scented handkerchief."

We left the room at last. When Raymond had closed his door, he discovered that he had not put his diamond ring on his little finger, so he went back to repair that omission. We went downstairs; but on the second landing, he failed to find his opera in his pocket, and went back for that. When we arrived in the courtyard, he remembered that he had not brought his favorite songs; and as he might be asked to sing, I must wait while he went to fetch them. I registered a vow never to travel again with Monsieur Raymond. At last, about a quarter past eight, we entered the cabriolet; then he discovered that he had not his eyegla.s.s; but I was inexorable: I lashed the horse and we started. It was dark, so that Raymond could not read me his opera; but to make up to me for the deprivation, he proposed to tell me the plot. For more than an hour he prosed away about a Spanish princess and an Arabian prince, her lover, while I thought of Madame de Marsan, whom I was not at all sorry to see again, and whom I was surprised that I had neglected so long. When we reached Saint-Denis it was half-past nine; and I swore at Raymond, whose dilatoriness and absurd affectations would make us arrive at Madame de Marsan's unconscionably late.

"Have we much farther to go?" I asked my neighbor, as we left Saint-Denis behind.

"Why, no; about three-fourths of a league only.--I was saying that my princess, having been rescued from the burning palace, swoons at the end of the second act.----"

"You know the way, don't you?"

"Yes, yes; drive on, I'll show you.--When the curtain rises for the third act, the princess is in her lover's camp, lying on a cannon.----"

"Have you been to this country house before?"

"Once; but that's enough for me; I have such an accurate memory!--The soldiers are resting on their pikes--or their muskets, for I am not quite sure whether pikes were in use under King Ferdinand; but it makes no difference. The prince, having no desire to sleep----"

"I should say that we were told to go to the left."

"No, no! straight ahead!--The prince, I say, is on his knees before the princess, who is still unconscious; and he sings her a superb air, _adagio_ in _D_ minor, to restore her.--I wrote the music, too. Can't you see the tableau in your mind's eye?"

"I see that if you don't drop your _prince_ and _princess_ soon, we shall be in Montmorency, and that certainly isn't on our road. I'm too good-natured, to sit here and listen to your nonsense. Here--as you are so certain we're on the right road, just take the reins and drive."

"Oh! I ask nothing better; I'll stake my head that we're not two hundred yards from Madame de Marsan's."

"But I don't see any light."

"Because it's too dark a night.--This infernal horse has a mouth like iron."

"You worry him too much."

"Ah! I see something.--Where are we, my man?"

"Montmorency, monsieur," replied our groom.

"Well! Monsieur Raymond, you want to see everything; you're a very clever man!"

"Don't be angry, my dear Dorsan; we'll take this road to the left; I remember now that it leads straight to Madame de Marsan's."

"I think we should do as well to return to Paris; it looks like a storm."

"What's the odds? then they'll have the party in the house."

"The party! Parbleu! we may be there by eleven o'clock!"