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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