Chapter 15 Chapter 7-2

I was so clumsy that I couldn't show myself to Madam de Bougreuil to prove that I was worthy of her favor, and I was very sad.After the meal, I remembered my old ways.I have in my pocket a poem I wrote to Barisot when I was in Lyons.The poem was not lacking in enthusiasm, and I recited it with even more enthusiasm, so that all three of them were moved to tears.Maybe it's my vanity, maybe it's the truth, I always feel that Madame de Bloreil's eyes seem to say to her mother; "Well, mother, I say this person should sit with you and not Is it true that your maid shared the meal?" Until now, I was always uncomfortable, and after taking revenge like this for a while, I felt happy.Madame de Bloreil exaggerated what she had said about me, and she thought that I would soon be famous in Paris and become a man of beauty.

I was inexperienced, and to guide me she gave me a copy of the Confessions of a certain Earl, "this book," she said to me, "is a good teacher, and you will need it in society, and refer to it from time to time. Reference is good." I kept the book for twenty years in gratitude to the giver, but I often laughed at the thought that this lady seemed to think I had a talent for flair.I read this book and immediately wanted to make friends with the author.My natural temperament did not deceive me: he was the only real friend I ever had in the literary world. Since then, I have dared to trust the Baroness of Perzanval and the Marchioness of Bloreil, and since they care about me, they will never let me stay in poverty for a long time;Now to tell how I came to Madame Dupin's door, which had far-reaching consequences.

Madame Dupin, as everyone knows, was the daughter of Samuel Bernard and Madame Fontaine.They had three sisters, who might be called the Three Graces: Madame de la Touch, who had gone to England with the Duke of Kingston; My true friend is a woman who is gentle and honest, lovely, witty, and above all cheerful, without knowing sorrow; lastly, Madame Dupin, who is the most beautiful of the three, and is the only one who never stumbles and causes others to gossip. Word.She was the price of M. Dupin's hospitality.He entertained her mother in his own province, and the mother, out of gratitude, married her to him, and gave him the office of tax collector and a very large fortune.When I first met her, she was one of the most beautiful women in Paris.She was dressing up when she received me, her arms were bare, her hair was fluffy, and her dressing gown was thrown loosely on her body.It was the first time I had ever experienced such a reception, and my poor head couldn't stand it, I was in a panic, I was at a loss; in a word, I fell in love with Madame Dupin.

My panic didn't seem to have made a bad impression on her, she didn't notice it at all.She accepted my writings with pleasure, welcomed me, talked about my project skilfully, and sang to the accompaniment of her own on the clavichord;It didn't take so much to make me intoxicated, and I was really fascinated.She promised me to see her again: this made me use and abuse this promise.I go to her house almost every day and eat two or three meals at her house every week.I have a lot of things I want to tell her, but I don't always have the courage.My natural shyness was exacerbated for several reasons.Climbing to the gate of a wealthy family means embarking on the road to prosperity; in my case at the time.I would never want to risk ruining such a path.Madame Dupin, lovely as she was, was serious and cold, and I could find nothing provocative in her manner to embolden me.Compared with any other family in Paris at that time, her family background was considered the most luxurious, and there were guests from all walks of life.She loves to receive all prominent figures, including the powerful, the literati, and the beauties.You see only dukes, ambassadors, and celebrities at her house.The Princesse Rohan, the Countess Forcalquier, Madame de Mirepoix, Madame Brignole, Madame Hervey, they were all her friends.Monsieur Fontenelle, the Abbe Saint-Pierre, the Abbe Salierer, M. Fourmont, M. Benny, M. Buffon, M. Voltaire, were all members of her circle and often ate at her house.It is true that her formality does not attract young people very much, but her guests are carefully selected and awe-inspiring people; and among them, my poor Jean-Jacques certainly did not dare to show off I thought about it too much.I didn't dare to speak, but I was unwilling to be silent, so I boldly wrote letters.She suppressed my letter for two days without even mentioning it.On the third day, she returned the letter to me, and said a few reproachful words to my face, the indifference of her tone really chilled my heart.I wanted to speak, but the words fell back on my lips, and my ecstatic love and hope were all shattered.After I made a polite confession, I continued to get along with her as before, and never mentioned a word of love to her again, and I didn't even dare to look at her anymore.

I thought this stupid thing I had done had been forgotten, but it wasn't.Monsieur Frangeuille was the son of M. Dupin, Madame Dupin's first wife, and was about the same age as Madame Dupin and myself.He's smart, good-looking, and somewhat ambitious.It is said that he pursued his stepmother probably only on the basis that the stepmother married him a very ugly and gentle daughter-in-law, and she got on very well with both of them.M. Frangeuille loved talents, and he himself was versatile.He knew music very well, and that became the medium of communication between us.I visit him often and like him very much.Suddenly he hinted to me that Madam Dupin thought I went to see her too often, and asked me not to go again.This tactful request would have been appropriate if she had made it when she returned my letter. Now that it has been eight or nine days, and there is no other reason, I always feel something is wrong.What is even more strange: I did not become unpopular with M. and Mrs. Frangeuille for this.However, my visits to her house were seldom, and if it had not been for another unexpected whim of Madame Sopin's, I should never go to her house at all.She asked me to take care of her son temporarily, because her son was going to change his tutor, and there was no one to take care of him for eight or nine days.I have really suffered this week, and I only bear it with some relief from the thought that I am obeying Madame Dupin's orders.This poor Chenonceau's violent temper from that time onwards almost ruined his family, and finally cost him his life at the Ile de Bourbon.During my time in his care, my task was to prevent him from doing evil, harming himself and others, that's all.In this way, I have exhausted all my strengths, and if I am asked to look after me for another week, I will not do it, even if Madame Dupin will commit herself to me in return.

M. Frangeuille formed a friendship with me, with whom I often work.We started taking chemistry lessons together at Mr. Ruel's.In order to be nearer to him, I moved from the Hotel Saint-Quentin to the place near the tennis courts on the Rue Verdelay, which leads directly to the Rue Pratliere, where M. Dupin lives.There I caught a cold from inattention, which turned into pneumonia, and nearly died of it.I used to have this type of inflammation in my youth.What pleurisy and my most common pharyngitis, I won't list them here.These diseases have killed me enough to make me familiar with death.During my convalescence, I had time to reflect on my situation, and I hated my timidity, weakness, and indolence; through this indolence, though I felt my heart ablaze, I gave myself up to idleness, and was often in On the edge of the end of the mountain.On the eve of my illness I went to an opera by Royer, the name of which I forget, which was being performed at that time.Notwithstanding my preconceived notion of admiring the talents of others and lacking confidence in my own, I cannot help but think that the opera's music is weak, unenthusiastic, and devoid of originality.I sometimes even think to myself: "I think I can do better than this." But I always think the work of writing operas is terrible, and I hear the artists in my line say it magically, so I always feel that I can do better than this. I didn't dare to try it lightly, and I felt blush even if I had the courage to think about it.And where can I find someone who is willing to provide me with the lyrics, and is willing to take the trouble to change the lyrics and tune according to my wishes?This idea of ​​composition and opera came back to me during my sickness, and I composed some solos, duets, and choruses in my febrile stupor.I am convinced that two or three diprimaintenziones (improvisations) were written, which the masters might have admired if they could have heard them played.what!If the sleep-talkings of a febrile patient could be recorded, one would see what great and sublime works have sprung from his madness!

These music and opera themes are still in my mind when I am recuperating, but they are calmer than before.Because I thought about this question repeatedly and even involuntarily, I decided to find out the truth and try to see if I could write an opera by myself, including the lyrics and music.This is not exactly my first attempt.I wrote a tragic opera in Chambery, entitled "Iphis and Anaxarat," which, being still a little self-aware, was thrown into the fire.At Lyons I wrote another opera, The Discovery of the New World, which I read to M. Boulder, the Abbe Mabry, the Abbe Trubley, and others, and was still burned, though I've written the music for the prologue and the first act, and Davy has seen the pieces and said that there are pieces that can be compared to Bononcini.

This time, before doing it, I took a lot of work to conceive the outline of my whole play.I plan to write three different themes in three independent acts in a heroic ballet, each theme is accompanied by music of a different nature; since each theme is a love story of a poet, I will give this The opera is named "The Merry Poet".My first act is accompanied by vigorous music, playing Tasso; the second act is accompanied by lingering music, I play Ovid; the third act is titled Anacreon, which should be filled with the cheerful atmosphere of Dionysus.I tried the first act first, and went to work with the enthusiasm that gave me my first taste of the joy of composing.One night, as I was about to enter the gate of the opera house, I felt a surge of emotions in my heart, completely controlled by thousands of thoughts, so I put the ticket money in my pocket, ran back and closed the door, and drew the curtain tightly Tightly, so that no light can see through, and then lie down on the bed.In bed, I was intoxicated by poetic joy, and I conceived most of my scene in seven or eight hours.I can say that my love for the Princess of Ferrara (for I was Tasso myself at the time) and the haughty and heroic feeling I displayed in the presence of her unjust brother carried me through the fun. An endless night, a hundred times higher than what I actually spent in the arms of the princess.In the morning, only a small part of the music I wrote was remembered by me, but even this little bit, almost completely washed away by fatigue and sleepiness, still gave people a sense of the momentum of the movements it represented.

This time, I didn't keep working on the job, because other things delayed me.When I was in close acquaintance with the Dupins, I sometimes went on to see Madame Bézinval and Madame de Bloreuil, and they did not forget me.The Comte de Montaigu, Captain of the Guards, has just been appointed Ambassador to Venice.This is the ambassador handpicked by Baljac, because he often travels to the gate of Baljac.His elder brother, the Chevalier Montagu, adjutant adjutant to the Dauphin, knew the two ladies, and also the abbe Arali, who was a member of the French Academy, and whom I sometimes saw.Madame de Bloreil, knowing that the ambassador was looking for a secretary, introduced me.We joined, and I demanded a salary of fifty louis.Since I hold this position, I have to support the scene. What I want is not much.But he was only willing to give me a hundred pistols, and I paid for my travel expenses.This condition is ridiculous, and we can't agree on it.M. Frangeuille again desperately kept me, and his friendship prevailed.When I stayed, Monsieur de Montaigu left with another secretary; this secretary was called Monsieur Foro, and had been sent to him by the Foreign Office.They had a falling out when they first arrived in Venice, and Furro turned away when he realized that he was working with a madman.Montagu found me again because he had only one young priest named Biness around him, and he could only write letters under the secretary and could not work as a secretary.His cavalier brother, a shrewd man, persuaded me repeatedly, suggesting that there were other benefits in the position of secretary, so he persuaded me, and I accepted a thousand francs.I got another twenty louis d'or for my journey, and I set off.

When I reached Lyons, I intended to take the Senais, in order to see my poor mother on the way.But on the one hand, because of the war, and wanting to save a little money, and on the other hand, I had to go to M. Mirepoix to get a passport--he was commanding the army in Provence, and I was asked to go to him--so I went to see him. Down the river from the Robe, to Toulon to catch a sea boat.Since M. de Montaigu could not do without me, he wrote to me urging me to go, but an accident delayed my journey. That was the time of the plague of Messina.The British fleet at anchor there inspected my ship.This brought us to twenty-one days of quarantine in Genoa after a long and arduous voyage.Passengers can choose where to live during the quarantine period, either by staying on board or moving to a quarantine facility.However, we were told in advance that the quarantine station was empty except for the four walls because it had not been furnished in time.Everyone chose the road of staying on board for inspection.As for me, the unbearable heat on board, the cramped space, the inability to move around, and the fleas and lice, I would rather risk living in a quarantine station.I was led to a big three-story house, which was absolutely empty. There were no windows, beds, tables, or chairs. There was not even a small bench if I wanted to sit on it, and there was not even a straw if I wanted to sleep.They brought me my overcoat, my bag, and my two suitcases, and they locked the door with a big lock.So I was there, let me move around freely, from this room to that room, from this floor to that floor, everywhere is the same loneliness, the same emptiness.

All this did not make me regret that I had not stayed on board and had come to the quarantine station.I was like a new Robinson Crusoe, planning my life to live my twenty-one days as if it were my whole life.I first amuse myself by catching lice, which I have brought from the ship.I changed all my clothes inside and out again and again, and I was free of a single lice, so I set about furnishing the room I had chosen.I made a mattress out of my coat and shirt, I made a sheet out of several large towels and sewed them together, I made a comforter out of my pajamas, and I rolled up my coat for a pillow.I put one box flat as a stool and the other upright as a table.I took out the paper and pencil case, and arranged the dozen or so books I brought into a small bookshelf.In short, I made my surroundings so comfortable that, except for the lack of window curtains, I was almost as convenient in this absolutely empty quarantine facility as I was in the tennis court on Rue Verdelay.My meal was served with style, and two grenadiers, with bayonet-mounted guns, escorted my meal; the staircase was my dining room, the landing was my dining table, and the steps under the landing were mine. Seats; once the food is set, the person who delivers the food rings the bell when he is about to leave, and that is to invite me to a seat.Between meals, when I am not reading, writing, or furnishing my room, I take a walk in the Protestant cemetery, which is my courtyard; there I climb a lampstand facing the harbour, overlooking the Ships come in and out.I spent fourteen days in this way, and if it had not been for M. Joinville, the French ambassador, I should have stayed there all twenty-one days without being bored for a moment.However, I wrote him a letter, a sterilized letter anointed with vinegar, perfumed, and half-smoked, and my stay was shortened by eight days: I spent these eight days in his At his house, I admit, it was more comfortable than in the quarantine station.He treated me very well.His secretary, Dupont, was also a good fellow, and took me on several tours in Genoa and the country, and had a good time, so I got to know him, and we continued to correspond frequently, which lasted for a long time.I continued my journey through Lombardy and had a great time.I passed through Milan, Verona, Briscia, Padua, and finally arrived in Venice. The ambassador was really anxious. In front of me was a large pile of official documents, some from the imperial court and other embassies. He couldn't understand anything that used codes, although the codes to translate these official documents were available locally.I have never done business in an agency, and I have never seen the code book of an envoy in my life, so I thought it would be tricky to do it.But later I found that it couldn't be easier, and I translated all the secret letters in less than a week. These letters are really not worth using ciphers, because, except for the ambassador in Venice who is always idle, people like Montagu A person who is not willing to entrust him with even the smallest negotiation.He was quite helpless before my arrival, as he could neither dictate nor write himself, so I was very helpful to him.He feels this himself, and treats me well.There is another reason why he treats me well. Since his predecessor, M. Froulet, left the post due to insanity, M. Le Bron, the French consul, has been acting as an agent for the embassy, ​​and he has continued to act as an agent after M. Montagu arrived. Until the new office is familiar with library affairs.M. de Montaigu hated the consul because he envied others to do it for him, though he could not do it himself.As soon as I arrived, he took the post of embassy secretary from him and handed it over to me.Title and name are inseparable, and he asked me to bear this name.During my time with him, he has always let me deal with the Senate and its foreign officials in this name.After all, it was only natural that he did not want a consul or someone sent by the imperial court to be the secretary of the embassy, ​​but would rather have one of his own. This made my situation quite comfortable, and prevented his Italian suite, valets, and most of his staff from competing with me in the embassy.I also used my authority very successfully to maintain the ambassador's privileges, that is to say, I prevented several attempts to intrude on the embassy quarters which his Venetian officials had no intention of preventing.However, on the other hand, although it is profitable to cover up bandits, and your Excellency the Ambassador does not disdain to share the spoils, I have never allowed bandits to take refuge in the embassy. Your Excellency, the Ambassador, is ashamed to ask for a share of the special income of the Secretariat, which is generally called office fees.It was a time of war, and it was inevitable that some passports would be issued.Each passport is processed and countersigned by the secretary, and a Xikun must be given to the secretary.All my ex-secretaries charged one siquin for every passport they signed, whether the recipient was French or non-French.I found this practice unjust, so, although I am not French, I abolished this passport fee for the French.However, as long as I am not French, I have to, and I am so strict. For example, the Marquis Scotty, the elder brother of the Queen of Spain's favorite, sent someone to ask for a passport from me, but I didn't take the passport of a Siquin. If the fee is delivered, I will send someone to ask him for it.The vengeful Italian never forgot my audacity.Everyone knows this reform of my passport tax, and all the people who want passports come to pretend to be French.They spoke in a very ugly dialect, some from Provence, some from Dicada, some from Burgundy.I have good ears and I will never be deceived. I don't believe that an Italian can cheat my Siqun, or a Frenchman can pay by mistake.M. de Montaigu knew nothing, and I was so foolish as to inform him of my reforms.As soon as he heard the word Xikun, his ears perked up.He did not express any opinion on the exemption of passport fees for French people, but he asked me to share the passport fees paid by non-French people equally with him, and at the same time promised me some reciprocal benefits.I was not angry that my own interests were violated, but I was so indignant at seeing him so despicable that I simply rejected his proposal.He still insisted, and I became angry. "No, sir," I said to him angrily, "please keep what is yours, and mine what is mine; I will never give you a penny." He took another approach and told me shamelessly that since I had income from office expenses, it was only natural that I should bear the expenses of the office.I don't want to haggle over this point, and since then I have paid for the ink, paper, wax, candles, silk rope, and even the letter I ordered to be engraved, and he has never paid back a penny.However, I gave Father Bienis a small portion of the income from the passport fee, because he was an honest young man and never thought of asking for money of this kind.As courteous as he was to me, I was equally courteous to him, and we have always been on good terms. For business work, after trying it out for a while, I don't think it's as tricky as I thought.I was afraid that I was a novice, and I was serving an ambassador who was also inexperienced, and he was ignorant and obstinate. If my conscience and the little knowledge I had drove me to do a good thing for him and for the king, he They all seemed to sing against me on purpose.The wisest thing he did was that he was on good terms with the Spanish ambassador, the Marquis Marly.The Marquis of Marley is tactful and shrewd. If he wanted to, he could have led Montagu by the nose, but he put the common interests of the two royal families at the top of his mind, and usually gave him a lot of advice, and if it wasn't for Montagu These are pretty good pieces of advice, if you're being smart about your execution.The only thing the two of them had to do together was to try to keep the Venetians neutral.The Venetians, always paying lip service to their faithful neutrality, openly sold arms to the Austrian army, and even provided them with men, under the guise of deserters.Monsieur Montagu, I believe, wanted to ingratiate himself with the Republic of Venice, and therefore, despite my dissuasion, he insisted that I lie in every report that the Republic would not violate its promise of neutrality.The stubbornness and stupidity of this poor wretch make me write and do a lot of nonsense from time to time.These ridiculous words and deeds, since he wants to do this, I have no choice but to obey.But sometimes I find my work unbearable, almost impossible.He insisted, for example, that most of his reports to the King or the Foreign Secretary be in cipher, although there was absolutely no need for secrecy in either.I told him that the official documents from the imperial court arrive on Friday, and our reply will be sent out on Saturday. There is not enough time to choose so many passwords. At the same time, I still have many letters to write, and I have to catch up with the same post. .He had a brilliant idea. He asked Thursday to prepare a reply to the documents that were due the next day.He thought his idea was brilliant.So even though I told him it wouldn't work, it was ridiculous, and I ended up having to do what he said.During the whole period of my stay at the embassy, ​​I first recorded the few words he told me hastily during the week, and the few insignificant news I heard from me, and then based on this material, I always wrote down every time. On Thursday morning he showed him the draft of the document to be sent out on Saturday, and only hurriedly made additions or corrections to the document in response to Friday's communication.He also had a very interesting quirk, which made his correspondence unimaginably ridiculous, and that was that every message he received he did not send out, but sent back to the original place.He brought news from the court to Monsieur Amello, Paris to Monsieur Morbah, Sweden to Monsieur Haval Langour, St. Petersburg to Monsieur La Stadtaldi, and he sometimes sent messages from each of them. Send it back to me.Only minor changes in terms are made by me.Among the documents I sent for signature, he only glanced at the submissions to the court, and signed the rest of the official letters to other ambassadors without even looking at them. Adjust it to my liking and at least exchange some news.However, for the most important files, it is impossible for me to modify it reasonably.He often stuffed a few words into it on a whim, so that I had to take it back and recopy the whole text in a hurry.Embellish this newly added absurd language, and it must be beautiful in a password, otherwise it will not be signed.I don't know how many times, in his honor, I really wanted to write in code something different from what he said.But I also felt that there was no reason for me to do such a dishonest thing, so I let him talk nonsense and ask for trouble, but I did my duty at the risk of my own failure by speaking frankly to him. . I have always been so, honest, zealous, and courageous, and deserved another reward from him than the one I finally received.I have been endowed with a good nature, educated by the best woman, and cultivated myself, and this nature, education, and cultivation have made me what I am now. Time to come out: that's exactly what I did.I was alone then, without friends, without guidance, inexperienced, far away in a foreign land, serving a foreign land, side by side with scoundrels who showed their virtues for their own benefit and for the sake of not having a clean stream. Turbidity, they all tried their best to encourage me to join forces with them, but I absolutely refused to do so.I have served France well--in fact, I have no obligation to France--and I have spared no effort to serve the Ambassador better.I am in a rather conspicuous post, and I do it above reproach, so I am rightly, and indeed am, admired by the Republic of Venice, by all the ambassadors who correspond with us, and by all who live in Venice. The love of the French, even the consul whom I replaced; I did business that I knew should belong to him. It was more trouble than pleasure. Mr. Montagu trusted the Marquis of Marley unreservedly, but the Marquis of Marley would not ask about the details of his position, so Montagu completely neglected his position. If it were not for me, he would have stayed in Venice The French would not feel that there was an ambassador of their own country there.When they needed his protection, he would send them off without even listening to them, and they were discouraged.From then on, people never saw a Frenchman walking behind him or eating at the same table with him—he never invited a Frenchman to dinner.I always offered to do what he had to do: whether it was the Frenchmen who begged him or me, I always did everything in my power to help them.In any other country, I would do more.But here, due to my status, I can't meet anyone with status, so I often have to use my hands to the consul. As for the consul, he has a family here and claims to have settled here, so he has to be perfunctory in some places. , and therefore cannot do what it wants.Sometimes, however, when I saw him cowering and afraid to speak, I ventured to make bold negotiations, several of which were successful.There was a negotiation, and now I still laugh when I think about it.No one would have guessed that it was my fault that Parisian theatergoers could see Coralina and her sister Camille.Yet it is absolutely true.Their father, Veronese, had signed a contract for him and his two daughters with an Italian troupe; and after receiving two thousand francs for travel expenses, instead of leaving, he ran to Venice at his leisure, where he played in Saint-Luc. The theatre; Coralina, though still a child, was already a hit.The Duke of Gervre wrote to the ambassador in his capacity as adjutant-in-waiting, asking him to find them, father and daughter.M. de Montaigu handed me the letter, and his only instruction was to say: "Look."I immediately went to M. Le Blond.Ask him to negotiate with the nobleman who opened the Saint-Luc Theater.I remember the nobleman's name is Xustinini, and I asked him to call him Xustinini to dismiss Veronese, because Veronese has been hired by the French king.Le Bloon didn't take much of what I asked him to do very well.Giustignini hesitated, and Veronese was not dismissed.I am angry.It was Carnival then.I put on my cloak and mask, and I was taught to go to the mansion of Giustinini.Everyone who saw my gondola coming in with the badge of the ambassador was taken aback; Venice had never seen anything like it.I went in the door and called to see unasioramaschera (a lady in a mask).As soon as I was ushered in, I took off my mask and gave my real name.The senator immediately turned pale and was at a loss. "Monsieur," I said to him in the Venetian manner, "I am sorry to disturb your excellency. But at your St. Luc's there is a man named Veronese who has been hired to serve the King of France." , we have sent to ask you for him again and again, but to no avail, and I have come to ask you for this man in the name of His Majesty the King of France." My curt address had an effect.As soon as I turned around, the guy ran to report what had happened to the interrogating officer, and he got yelled at.Veronese was fired the same day.I told someone to tell him that if he didn't leave within a week, I would send someone to arrest him; but he obediently left. On another occasion, I solved the difficulties of a merchant captain, single-handedly, with little help from anyone else.His name was Captain Olivier, a Maasai; the name of the ship I have forgotten.His crew had quarreled with the Slovenians hired by the Republic. Because of the illegal use of force, the ship was detained and the punishment was extremely severe. No one was allowed to disembark or disembark except the captain.The captain asked the ambassador for help, but the ambassador ignored him; he ran to the consul, who said it had nothing to do with business and he could not intervene.The captain didn't know what to do, so he came to me.I advised Mr. Montaigu that he should allow me to send a memorandum to the Senate on the matter.Whether he ever agreed to do so, or whether I submitted a memorandum, I don't remember exactly, but I do remember that my negotiations had no effect, and the ship continued to be arrested.I thought of another way, and it worked: I wrote a report of what had happened and inserted it in my briefing to M. Morbat.Even so, it took me much trouble to obtain M. de Montaigu's consent.I know that although our official documents do not need to be dismantled, they are often dismantled in Venice.I have solid evidence, because I found that the news in the daily newspaper is copied from our official documents, without changing a word.I urged the ambassador to protest against this illegal action, but he has always refused to do so.The purpose of inserting the case of framing into the official document this time is to take advantage of their curiosity in dismantling the official document to scare them and make them have to release the detained ship, because if they really want to wait for the court to return Negotiations were made only after he arrived, and the captain had long since gone bankrupt.Not counting this, I went to the merchant ship to interrogate the crew.I invited Father Patizell, Secretary to the Head of the Consulate, to accompany me.He came reluctantly, and those poor people were too afraid of offending the Senate.Since I was prohibited from boarding the ship, I stayed in my gondola and took my notes, while loudly interrogating the crew members one by one, using the terms of the question to deliberately elicit favorable answers from them.I originally asked Father Patizell to ask questions and take the notes himself. This is his duty, which is more appropriate than mine; Almost refused.Although my approach was a little bold, it worked wonders, and the merchant ship was unsealed long before the foreign secretary's reply.船长要给我送礼，我心平气和地拍着他的肩膀对他说：“奥利维船长，你想想，我连现成的护照费都不向法国人收，难道能出卖国王的保护来牟私利么？”他至少要请我在船上吃顿饭，我接受了，并且邀了西班牙大使馆秘书卡利约一同前去。这位卡利约是个聪明人，很可爱，后来任驻巴黎大使馆的秘书，又任代办，我在当时已经学我们许多大使的榜样，跟他相处得很亲密了。 当我以绝对无私的精神做我所能做的一切好事的时候，如果我在所有这一类的细节上都能做到有条不紊、细致周密，以免受骗上当，帮了别人的忙反而自己吃苦头，那就该有多好啊！但是在我所处的这种岗位上，稍有差错就不能不产生后果。我总是小心翼翼地避免出岔子，妨害公务。凡是有关我基本职责的事，我自始至终都是办得极端有条理，极端准确的。我只是在被迫匆忙翻译密码时犯过几个错误，阿梅洛先生的手下人曾抱怨过一次，除此之外，不管是大使还是任何别人，对我的任何职守，都从来没有指出过一点疏忽之处。象我这样马虎粗心的人能做到这样也就不简单了。但是，在我负责办的私人事务中，我却有时健忘，不够细心，由于我爱公平，所以有亏总是自己吃，而且是自觉自愿的，绝不等到别人先抱怨我。我只举出一件事情为例，这同我离开威尼斯一事有关，它的后果一直延续到我后来回到巴黎的时候。 我们的厨师，他叫鲁斯洛，从法国带来了一张二百法郎的借据，这是一个叫查内托·那尼的威尼斯贵族开给鲁斯洛的一个做假发的朋友的，是查内托欠他的假发钱。鲁斯洛把这张借据交给我，托我用协商方式收回一点。我和他都知道，威尼斯贵族有个老习惯，在外国欠了债，回国后就赖账；你要是逼他们还，他们就拖，叫那倒霉的债权人耗费时间、金钱，疲于奔命，结果或者是完全放弃，或者是捡回几个子儿了事。我请勒·布隆先生跟查内托交涉，查内托承认借据，但不答应付款。闹来闹去，他最后答应付三西昆。当勒·布隆把借据送到他那里时，三西昆还没有筹出，只好等待。在此期间，我跟大使闹翻了，要离开大使馆。我把大使馆的文件都整理得有条不紊地搁在那里，但是鲁斯洛的那张借据却找不到了。勒·布隆先生一口咬定他把借据还给了我。我深知他为人正派，绝不容置疑，但是我却怎么也想不起这张借据搁到哪里去了。既然查内托已经承认了债务，我就请勒·布隆先生设法收回这三西昆，出一张收据，或者叫查内托再照写一张借据，予以注销。查内托知道借据丢了，两种办法都不愿接受。我就从腰包里拿出三西昆来付给鲁斯洛，以偿借据的损失。他不肯接受，叫我到巴黎去踉债权人协商了事，并且把债权人的住址交给了我。那个假发商知道了事件经过，便要他的借据或者是借据上的全部金额。我当时非常气愤。真想不惜一切代价去把那张单据找出来！我只好照付二百法郎了，而且又是在我手头最感拮据的时候。以上是说明借据遗失反叫债权人获得了全部欠款，而如果该他倒霉，这张借据找到了，他连查内托·那尼阁下所答应的那十个埃居也难以收回呢！ 我自觉对这种职务有一定才能，所以对办公事颇有兴趣。除了跟我的朋友卡利约和我不久就要谈到的那位品德高尚的阿尔蒂纳交往，除了有时到圣·马克广场去寻点高尚的娱乐，看看戏，以及差不多总是和那两位一起去串串门以外，办公就是我唯一的乐趣。虽然我的工作不是那么繁难，特别是还有比尼斯神父做助手，但是因为联系的范围很广，加之又是战时，我还是免不了相当忙碌。我每天上午大部分时间都在工作，碰到邮班的日子有时要忙到半夜。其余的时间，我就埋头研究我开始干的这个行业，我希望凭着初期的成绩，将来可以获得较好的任用。的确，任何人谈到我都只有说好，首先是大使，他公开称赞我工作好。从来没有抱怨我一句话，后来他发的那种种狂怒，完全是因为我历次诉苦都没有效果，自己硬要辞职的缘故。法国的大使们和大臣们，凡是跟我们有通信关系的，都在他面前夸奖他的秘书好。这些夸奖本来应该使他得意的，但由于他品质恶劣，却产生了相反的效果。特别是在一个重要场合，他听到人家夸奖我，便一辈子也不能原谅我了。这件事值得费点笔墨说明一下。 他这个人太不能约束自己，就连星期六，差不多所有文件都要发出的那一天，他也不能等工作完了再出门。他钉住我，不断地催促，要把给国王和大臣的呈文发出去，在他匆匆忙忙签下字以后，就不知跑到哪里去了，而把其他函件大部分都扔在一边，不加签署。如果函件内容只是消息的话，我还可以把它列入公报，但是如果内容与王室事务有关，就必需有人签署，这样只好由我来签了。有一个重要情报，是我们刚从国王驻维也纳代办樊尚先生那里收到的，我就这样办理了。那时罗布哥维茨亲王正向那不勒斯进军，加日伯爵紧急转移阵地。这是一次值得纪念的退却，是本世纪最精彩的一次战略行动，欧洲人赞扬得还太不够。情报说，有一个人——樊尚先生把他的面貌特征都说明了——正由维也纳动身，要从威尼斯经过，潜入亚不路息地区，负责在那里煽动民众，在奥军到达时里应外合。蒙太居伯爵是什么也不管的，他不在家，我就把这情报直接转发给洛皮塔尔侯爵了。情报转得非常及时，波突王朝之所以能保全那不勒斯王国，也许就多亏我这个可怜挨骂的让－雅克呢。 洛皮塔尔侯爵在向他的同僚蒙太居循例道谢的时候，特别提到他的秘书以及秘书对共同事业所建立的这项功绩。蒙太居伯爵贻误军机，原该引以自责的，但他却认为这番夸奖之中含有责他之意，因此对我谈起这事时很不高兴。我过去对驻君士坦丁堡大使卡斯特拉纳伯爵也曾和对洛皮塔尔侯爵一样权宜行事，虽然事情没有那么重要。到君士坦丁堡没有别的邮班，只参议院有时派专差给他的大使送信，这种专差出发时总是先通知一下法国大使，以便他必要时可以顺便寄信给他的同僚。通知一般应是前一两天送到，但是人家太瞧不起蒙太居先生了，只在信差出发前一两小时才来告诉他一声，走走形式。这就使得我有好几次只好当他不在家时就写信寄出。卡斯特拉纳先生复信时总要提到我，多所奖饰；戎维尔先生从热那亚寄信来，也是如此。这每一次都给蒙太居火上加油。 我承认，有出头露面的机会，我也并不躲避，但是我也不乱找机会去出风头。我觉得，只要好好地服务，企求良好服务的合理代价，这是天公地道的事。所谓合理代价，也就是博得有能力评判和褒奖我的工作的人们的赏识而已。我不想说，我尽忠职守就成为大使对我不满的正当理由，但是我可以肯定说，直到我们散伙的日子为止，他所历数出来的理由就只有这么一条。 他那个大使馆，从来就没有搞得象个样子，里面净是些流氓痞棍，使馆里的法国人总是受欺侮，意大利人则占上风；甚至在意大利人当中，长久以来就在大使馆服务的好职员都被用不正当的手段赶走了，其中有他的第一随员。这个人在弗鲁莱伯爵手下就当第一随员了，我记得他叫庇阿蒂伯爵，或者是一个很近似的名字。第二随员是蒙太居先生自己挑选来的，原是曼杜地方的一个恶棍，名叫多米尼克·维塔利，大使把使馆的总务交给他。他用曲意奉承和卑鄙的克扣取得了他的信任并成了他的宠儿，使仅存的几个正直人士以及领导他们的秘书都大吃其苦。对那些坏蛋说来，正人君子的严正目光总是叫他们提心吊胆的；只此一端就足以使这个坏蛋对我怀恨在心了。然而这种恨，还有另外一个原因，使它变得更加残酷。必须把这个原因说出来，以便大家派我的不是——如果我真的做得有什么不对的话。 照惯例，大使在五个戏院里都有他一个包厢。每天午饭时，他指定他那天要上哪个戏院，然后由我挑选，其余包厢再由随员们支配。我出门时就拿我选定的包厢的钥匙。有一天，维塔利不在那里，我叫侍候我的侍仆把钥匙送到我指点给他的那所房子里。维塔利不给，说他已经分配掉了。我非常生气，特别是因为我的侍仆当着大家的面回报了办差使的经过。晚上，维塔利想对我说几句道歉的话，我不接受。“明天，先生，”我对他说，“你在某点钟，到我受了侮辱的那所房子里来，当着看见我受辱的那些人的面，向我道歉；如若不然，后天，无论如何，我告诉你，不是你，就是我，必须离开这个大使馆。”我这样坚决的语气使他慑伏了，到了指定的时间和地点，他来公开向我道歉，恭顺得只有他做得出来；但是他从容不迫地想着他的办法。他一面对我卑躬屈节，一面却用那种意大利式的阴险手段对付我：他不能煽动大使辞退我，便逼我不得不自动辞职。 象这样一个混蛋当然不可能了解我的为人，但是他懂得我身上哪一方面可以被他利用。他知道我忍受无心的冒渎时是宽厚、温和到极点的，而对预谋的侮辱则高傲而毫不宽容；他知道我在一定的场合是爱体统、爱尊严的，时刻注意对别人应有的敬重，而别人对我的敬重，我也要求严格。他就从这方面下手，终于使我忍无可忍了。他把大使馆弄得乱七八糟，把我在馆里努刀维持住的那点制度、上下级关系、整洁、秩序，都摧毁净尽。一个单位没有女人，就需要有稍严的纪律，才能保持那种与尊严分不开的端庄气氛。他不久就把我们的单位变成了荒淫放纵的场所、流氓纨袴的巢穴。他怂恿大使把第二随员赶走了，给大使阁下另找来一个跟他一样的货色，是在马尔他十字广场开妓院的。这两个坏蛋伉瀣一气，既不顾体统，又盛气凌人，就是大使的房间也不那么有条有理了，而整个使馆没有一个角落能叫正派人忍受得了。