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Chapter twenty of Camille. This isa LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are
in the public domain. For moreinformation or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox
dot org. Recording by Bologna Times. Camille by Alexander Dumma Fill translation by
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Edmund Gosse, Chapter twenty one.My father was seated in my room.
In his dressing room, he waswriting, and I saw it once by
the way in which he raised hiseyes to me when I came in,
that there was going to be aserious discussion. I went up to him
all the same as if I hadseen nothing in his face, embraced him
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and said, when did you come, father last night? Did you come
straight here as usual? Yes,I am very sorry not to have been
here to receive you. I expectedthat the sermon which my father's cold face
threatened would begin at once, buthe said nothing. Sealed the letter which
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he had just written, and gaveit to Joseph to post. When we
were alone, my father rose,and, leaning against the mantelpiece, said
to me, my dear armand wehave serious matters to discuss. I am
listening. Father. You promised meto be frank. Am I not accustomed
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to be so, is it nottrue that you are living with a woman
called Marguerite Gautier? Yes? Doyou know what? This woman was a
kept woman, and it is forher that you have forgotten to come and
see your sister and me this year. Yes, father, I admit it.
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You are very much in love withthis woman. You see it,
father, since she has made mefail in duty to ward you, for
which I humbly ask her forgiveness today. My father, no doubt was
not expecting such categorical answers, forhe seemed to reflect a moment and then
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said to me, you have,of course realized that you cannot always live
like that. I fear so,father, But I have not realized it.
But you must realize, continued myfather, in a drier tone,
that I, at all events shouldnot permit it. I have said to
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myself that as long as I didnothing contrary to the respect which I owe
to the traditional property of the family, I could live as I am living.
And this has reassured me somewhat inregard to the fears I have had.
Passions are formidable enemies to sentiment.I was prepared for every struggle,
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even with my father, in orderthat I might keep Marguerite. Then the
moment is come when you must liveotherwise. Why, father, because you
are doing things which outrage the respectthat you imagine you have for your family.
I don't follow your meaning. Iwill explain it to you. Have
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a mistress if you will pay her, as a man of honor is bound
to pay the woman whom he keepsby all means. But that you should
come to forget the most sacred thingsfor her, that you should let the
report of your scandalous life reach myquiet country side and set a blot on
the honorable name that I have givenyou. It cannot, it shall not
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be, permit me to tell you, father, that those who have given
you information about me have been illinformed. I am the lover of Mademoiselle
Gairtier. I live with her.It is the most natural thing in the
world. I do not give MademoiselleGairtier the name you have given me.
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I spend on her account what mymeans allow me to spend. I have
no debts. And in short,I am not in a position which authorizes
a father to say to his sonwhat you have just said to me.
A father is always authorized to rescuehis son out of evil pass You have
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not done any harm yet, butyou will do it. Father, Sir,
I know more of life than youdo. There are no entirely pure
sentiments except in perfectly chaste women.Every man on can have her own.
De grie you, and times arechanged. It would be useless for the
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world to grow older if it didnot correct its ways. You will leave
your mistress. I am very sorryto disobey you, father, but it's
impossible. I will compel you todo so. Unfortunately, Father, there
no longer exists a Saint Marguerite towhich courtesans can be sent, and even
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if there were, I would followMademoiselle Gautier. If you succeeded in having
her sent there, what would youhave? Perhaps I am in the wrong,
but I can only be happy asI am the lover of this woman.
Com armand open your eyes. Recognizethat it is your father who speaks
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to you, your father, whohas always loved you, and who only
desires your happiness. Is it honorablefor you to live like husband and wife
with a woman whom everybody has had? What does it matter? Father?
If no one will any more?What does it matter if this woman loves
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me, if her whole life ischanged through the love which she has for
me and the love which I havefor her, what does it matter if
she has become a different woman.Do you think, then, sir,
that the mission of a man ofhonor is to go about converting lost women?
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Do you think that God has givensuch a grotesque aim to life,
and that the heart should have anyroom for enthusiasm of that kind? What
will be the end of this marvelouscure? And what will you think of
what you are saying to day?By the time you are forty you will
laugh at this love of yours,if you can still laugh, and it
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has not left too serious a tracein your past. What would you be
now if your father had had yourideas and had given up his life to
every impulse of this kind, insteadof rooting himself firmly in convictions of honor
and steadfastness. Think it over,armand and do not talk any more such
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absurdities. Come leave this woman,your father entreat you. I answered nothing,
armand continued my father, in thename of your sainted mother, abandon
this life, which you will forgetmore easily than you think you are tied
to it by an impossible theory.You are twenty four. Think of the
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future. You cannot always love thiswoman, who also cannot always love you.
You both exaggerate your love. Youput an end to your whole career.
One step further and you will nolonger be able to leave the path
you have chosen, and you willsuffer all your life for what you have
done in your youth. Leave Paris. Come and stay for a month or
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two with your sister and me restin her quiet. Family. Affection will
soon heal you of this fever,for it is nothing else. Meanwhile,
your mistress will console herself. Shewill take another lover. And when you
see what it is for which youhave all but broken with your father and
all but lost his love, youwill tell me that I have done well
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to come and seek you out,and he will thank me for it.
Come, you will go with me, armand will you not. I felt
that my father would be right ifit had been any other woman, But
I was convinced that he was wrongwith regard to Marguerite. Nevertheless, the
tone in which he said these lastwords was so kind, so appealing,
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that I dared not answer. Well, said he in a trembling voice.
Well, father, I can promisenothing, I said. At last,
what you ask of me is beyondmy power. Believe me, I continued,
seeing him make an impatient movement.You exaggerate the effects of this liaison.
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Marguerite is a different kind of womanfrom what you think. This love,
far from leading me astray, iscapable, on the contrary, of
setting me in the right direction.Love always makes a man better, no
matter what woman inspires it. Ifyou knew Marguerite, you would understand that
I am in no danger. Sheis as noble as the noblest of women.
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There is as much disinterestedness in heras there is in cupidity in others,
all of which does not prevent herfrom accepting the whole of your fortune.
For the sixty thousand francs which cometo you from your mother and which
you are giving her, are understandme well, your whole fortune. My
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father had probably kept this peroration andthis threat for the last stroke. I
was firmer before these threats than beforehis entreaties. Who told you that I
was handing this sumter? I askedmy solicitor. Could an honest man carry
out such a procedure without warning me. Well, it is to prevent you
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from ruining yourself or a prostitute.That I am now in Paris. Your
mother, when she died, leftyou enough to live unrespectably and not to
squander on your mistresses. I swearto you, father, that Marguerite knew
nothing of this transfer. Why thendo you make it? Because Marguerite,
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the woman you calluminate and whom youwish me to abandon, is sacrificing all
that she possesses in order to livewith me, and you accept this sacrifice.
What sort of man are you,sir, to allow Mademoiselle Gautier to
sacrifice anything for you? Come enoughof this? You will leave this woman
just now, I begged you.Now I command you, I will have
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no such scandalous doings in my family. Pack up your things and get ready
to come with me. Pardon me, father, I said, But I
shall not come, And why becauseI am at an age when no one
any longer obeys a command. Myfather turned pale at my answer. Very
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well, sir, he said,I know what remains to be done.
He rang, and Joseph appeared.Have my things taken to the Hotel de
Paris, he said to my servant, And thereupon he went to his room
and finished dressing. When he returned, I went up to him. Promise
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me, father, I said thatyou will do nothing to give Marguerite pain.
My father stopped, looked at medisdainfully, and contented him his health
with saying, I believe you aremad. After this, he went out,
shutting the door violently. After him, I went downstairs, took a
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cab, and returned to Bougavard.Marguerite was waiting for me at the window.
End of chapter twenty