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Juana



by Honore de Balzac



Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley)







DEDICATION



To Madame la Comtesse Merlin。









JUANA

(THE MARANAS)







CHAPTER I



EXPOSITION



Notwithstanding the discipline which Marechal Suchet had introduced

into his army corps; he was unable to prevent a short period of

trouble and disorder at the taking of Tarragona。 According to certain

fair…minded military men; this intoxication of victory bore a striking

resemblance to pillage; though the marechal promptly suppressed it。

Order being re…established; each regiment quartered in its respective

lines; and the commandant of the city appointed; military

administration began。 The place assumed a mongrel aspect。 Though all

things were organized on a French system; the Spaniards were left free

to follow 〃in petto〃 their national tastes。



This period of pillage (it is difficult to determine how long it

lasted) had; like all other sublunary effects; a cause; not so

difficult to discover。 In the marechal's army was a regiment; composed

almost entirely of Italians and commanded by a certain Colonel Eugene;

a man of remarkable bravery; a second Murat; who; having entered the

military service too late; obtained neither a Grand Duchy of Berg nor

a Kingdom of Naples; nor balls at the Pizzo。 But if he won no crown he

had ample opportunity to obtain wounds; and it was not surprising that

he met with several。 His regiment was composed of the scattered

fragments of the Italian legion。 This legion was to Italy what the

colonial battalions are to France。 Its permanent cantonments;

established on the island of Elba; served as an honorable place of

exile for the troublesome sons of good families and for those great

men who have just missed greatness; whom society brands with a hot

iron and designates by the term 〃mauvais sujets〃; men who are for the

most part misunderstood; whose existence may become either noble

through the smile of a woman lifting them out of their rut; or

shocking at the close of an orgy under the influence of some damnable

reflection dropped by a drunken comrade。



Napoleon had incorporated these vigorous beings in the sixth of the

line; hoping to metamorphose them finally into generals;barring

those whom the bullets might take off。 But the emperor's calculation

was scarcely fulfilled; except in the matter of the bullets。 This

regiment; often decimated but always the same in character; acquired a

great reputation for valor in the field and for wickedness in private

life。 At the siege of Tarragona it lost its celebrated hero; Bianchi;

the man who; during the campaign; had wagered that he would eat the

heart of a Spanish sentinel; and did eat it。 Though Bianchi was the

prince of the devils incarnate to whom the regiment owed its dual

reputation; he had; nevertheless; that sort of chivalrous honor which

excuses; in the army; the worst excesses。 In a word; he would have

been; at an earlier period; an admirable pirate。 A few days before his

death he distinguished himself by a daring action which the marechal

wished to reward。 Bianchi refused rank; pension; and additional

decoration; asking; for sole recompense; the favor of being the first

to mount the breach at the assault on Tarragona。 The marechal granted

the request and then forgot his promise; but Bianchi forced him to

remember Bianchi。 The enraged hero was the first to plant our flag on

the wall; where he was shot by a monk。



This historical digression was necessary; in order to explain how it

was that the 6th of the line was the regiment to enter Tarragona; and

why the disorder and confusion; natural enough in a city taken by

storm; degenerated for a time into a slight pillage。



This regiment possessed two officers; not at all remarkable among

these men of iron; who played; nevertheless; in the history we shall

now relate; a somewhat important part。



The first; a captain in the quartermaster's department; an officer

half civil; half military; was considered; in soldier phrase; to be

fighting his own battle。 He pretended bravery; boasted loudly of

belonging to the 6th of the line; twirled his moustache with the air

of a man who was ready to demolish everything; but his brother

officers did not esteem him。 The fortune he possessed made him

cautious。 He was nicknamed; for two reasons; 〃captain of crows。〃 In

the first place; he could smell powder a league off; and took wing at

the sound of a musket; secondly; the nickname was based on an innocent

military pun; which his position in the regiment warranted。 Captain

Montefiore; of the illustrious Montefiore family of Milan (though the

laws of the Kingdom of Italy forbade him to bear his title in the

French service) was one of the handsomest men in the army。 This beauty

may have been among the secret causes of his prudence on fighting

days。 A wound which might have injured his nose; cleft his forehead;

or scarred his cheek; would have destroyed one of the most beautiful

Italian faces which a woman ever dreamed of in all its delicate

proportions。 This face; not unlike the type which Girodet has given to

the dying young Turk; in the 〃Revolt at Cairo;〃 was instinct with that

melancholy by which all women are more or less duped。



The Marquis de Montefiore possessed an entailed property; but his

income was mortgaged for a number of years to pay off the costs of

certain Italian escapades which are inconceivable in Paris。 He had

ruined himself in supporting a theatre at Milan in order to force upon

a public a very inferior prima donna; whom he was said to love madly。

A fine future was therefore before him; and he did not care to risk it

for the paltry distinction of a bit of red ribbon。 He was not a brave

man; but he was certainly a philosopher; and he had precedents; if we

may use so parliamentary an expression。 Did not Philip the Second

register a vow after the battle of Saint Quentin that never again

would he put himself under fire? And did not the Duke of Alba

encourage him in thinking that the worst trade in the world was the

involuntary exchange of a crown for a bullet? Hence; Montefiore was

Philippiste in his capacity of rich marquis and handsome man; and in

other respects also he was quite as profound a politician as Philip

the Second himself。 He consoled himself for his nickname; and for the

disesteem of the regiment by thinking that his comrades were

blackguards; whose opinion would never be of any consequence to him if

by chance they survived the present war; which seemed to be one of

extermination。 He relied on his face to win him promotion; he saw

himself made colonel by feminine influence and a carefully managed

transition from captain of equipment to orderly officer; and from

orderly officer to aide…de…camp on the staff of some easy…going

marshal。 By that time; he reflected; he should come into his property

of a hundred thousand scudi a year; some journal would speak of him as

〃the brave Montefiore;〃 he would marry a girl of rank; and no one

would dare to dispute his courage or verify his wounds。



Captain Montefiore had one friend in the person of the quartermaster;

a Provencal; born in the neighborhood of Nice; whose name was Diard。

A friend; whether at the galleys or in the garret of an artist;

consoles for many troubles。 Now Montefiore and Diard were two

philosophers; who consoled each other for their present lives by the

study of vice; as artists soothe the immediate disappointment of their

hopes by the expectation of future fame。 Both regarded the war in its

results; not its action; they simply considered those who died for

glory fools。 Chance had made soldiers of them; whereas their natural

proclivities would have seated them at the green table of a congress。

Nature had poured Montefiore into the mould of a Rizzio; and Diard

into that of a diplomatist。 Both were endowed with that nervous;

feverish; half…feminine organization; which is equally strong for good

or evil; and from which may emanate; according to the impulse of these

singular temperaments; a crime or a generous action; a noble deed or a

base one。 The fate of such natures depends at any moment on the

pressure; more or less powerful; produced on their nervous systems by

violent and transitory passions。



Diard was considered a good accountant; but no soldier would have

trusted him with his purse or his will; possibly because of the

antipathy felt by all real soldiers against the bureaucrats。 The

quartermaster was not without courage and a certain juvenile

generosity; sentiments which many men give up as they grow older; by

dint of reasoning or calculating。 Variable as the beauty of a fair

woman; Diard was a great boaster and a great talker; talking of

everything。 He said he was artistic; and he made prizes (like two

celebrated generals) of works of art; solely; he declared; to preserve

them for posterity。 His mili

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