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Chapter 4

Chapter IV:
Malicorne and Manicamp.

The introduction of these two new personages into this history and that
mysterious affinity of names and sentiments, merit some attention on the
part of both historian and reader. We will then enter into some details
concerning Messieurs Malicorne and Manicamp. Malicorne, we know, had
made the journey to Orleans in search of the _brevet_ destined for
Mademoiselle de Montalais, the arrival of which had produced such a
strong feeling at the castle of Blois. At that moment, M. de Manicamp
was at Orleans. A singular person was this M. de Manicamp; a very
intelligent young fellow, always poor, always needy, although he dipped
his hand freely into the purse of M. le Comte de Guiche, one of the best
furnished purses of the period. M. le Comte de Guiche had had, as the
companion of his boyhood, this De Manicamp, a poor gentleman, vassal-
born, of the house of Gramont. M. de Manicamp, with his tact and talent
had created himself a revenue in the opulent family of the celebrated
marechal. From his infancy he had, with calculation beyond his age, lent
his mane and complaisance to the follies of the Comte de Guiche. If his
noble companion had stolen some fruit destined for Madame la Marechale,
if he had broken a mirror, or put out a dog's eye, Manicamp declared
himself guilty of the crime committed, and received the punishment, which
was not made the milder for falling on the innocent. But this was the
way this system of abnegation was paid for: instead of wearing such mean
habiliments as his paternal fortunes entitled him to, he was able to
appear brilliant, superb, like a young noble of fifty thousand livres a
year. It was not that he was mean in character or humble in spirit; no,
he was a philosopher, or rather he had the indifference, the apathy, the
obstinacy which banish from man every sentiment of the supernatural. His
sole ambition was to spend money. But, in this respect, the worthy M. de
Manicamp was a gulf. Three or four times every year he drained the Comte
de Guiche, and when the Comte de Guiche was thoroughly drained, when he
had turned out his pockets and his purse before him, when he declared
that it would be at least a fortnight before paternal munificence would
refill those pockets and that purse, Manicamp lost all his energy, he
went to bed, remained there, ate nothing and sold his handsome clothes,
under the pretense that, remaining in bed, he did not want them. During
this prostration of mind and strength, the purse of the Comte de Guiche
was getting full again, and when once filled, overflowed into that of De
Manicamp, who bought new clothes, dressed himself again, and recommenced
the same life he had followed before. The mania of selling his new
clothes for a quarter of what they were worth, had rendered our hero
sufficiently celebrated in Orleans, a city where, in general, we should
be puzzled to say why he came to pass his days of penitence. Provincial
_debauches, petits-maitres_ of six hundred livres a year, shared the
fragments of his opulence.

Among the admirers of these splendid toilettes, our friend Malicorne was
conspicuous; he was the son of a syndic of the city, of whom M. de Conde,
always needy as a De Conde, often borrowed money at enormous interest.
M. Malicorne kept the paternal money-chest; that is to say, that in those
times of easy morals, he had made for himself, by following the example
of his father, and lending at high interest for short terms, a revenue of
eighteen hundred livres, without reckoning six hundred livres furnished
by the generosity of the syndic; so that Malicorne was the king of the
gay youth of Orleans, having two thousand four hundred livres to scatter,
squander, and waste on follies of every kind. But, quite contrary to
Manicamp, Malicorne was terribly ambitious. He loved from ambition; he
spent money out of ambition; and he would have ruined himself for
ambition. Malicorne had determined to rise, at whatever price it might
cost, and for this, whatever price it did cost, he had given himself a
mistress and a friend. The mistress, Mademoiselle de Montalais, was
cruel, as regarded love; but she was of a noble family, and that was
sufficient for Malicorne. The friend had little or no friendship, but he
was the favorite of the Comte de Guiche, himself the friend of Monsieur,
the king's brother; and that was sufficient for Malicorne. Only, in the
chapter of charges, Mademoiselle de Montalais cost _per annum_: -
ribbons, gloves, and sweets, a thousand livres. De Manicamp cost - money
lent, never returned - from twelve to fifteen hundred livres _per
annum_. So that there was nothing left for Malicorne. Ah! yes, we are
mistaken; there was left the paternal strong box. He employed a mode of
proceeding, upon which he preserved the most profound secrecy, and which
consisted in advancing to himself, from the coffers of the syndic, half a
dozen year's profits, that is to say, fifteen thousand livres, swearing
to himself - observe, quite to himself - to repay this deficiency as
soon as an opportunity should present itself. The opportunity was
expected to be the concession of a good post in the household of
Monsieur, when that household would be established at the period of his
marriage. This juncture had arrived, and the household was about to be
established. A good post in the family of a prince of the blood, when it
is given by the credit, and on the recommendation of a friend, like the
Comte de Guiche, is worth at least twelve thousand livres _per annum_;
and by the means which M. Malicorne had taken to make his revenues
fructify, twelve thousand livres might rise to twenty thousand. Then,
when once an incumbent of this post, he would marry Mademoiselle de
Montalais. Mademoiselle de Montalais, of a half noble family, not only
would be dowered, but would ennoble Malicorne. But, in order that
Mademoiselle de Montalais, who had not a large patrimonial fortune,
although an only daughter, should be suitably dowered, it was necessary
that she should belong to some great princess, as prodigal as the dowager
Madame was covetous. And in order that the wife should not be of one
party whilst the husband belonged to the other, a situation which
presents serious inconveniences, particularly with characters like those
of the future consorts - Malicorne had imagined the idea of making the
central point of union the household of Monsieur, the king's brother.
Mademoiselle de Montalais would be maid of honor to Madame. M. Malicorne
would be officer to Monsieur.

It is plain the plan was formed by a clear head; it is plain, also, that
it had been bravely executed. Malicorne had asked Manicamp to ask a
_brevet_ of maid of honor of the Comte de Guiche; and the Comte de Guiche
had asked this _brevet_ of Monsieur, who had signed it without
hesitation. The constructive plan of Malicorne - for we may well suppose
that the combinations of a mind as active as his were not confined to the
present, but extended to the future - the constructive plan of Malicorne,
we say, was this: - To obtain entrance into the household of Madame
Henrietta for a woman devoted to himself, who was intelligent, young,
handsome, and intriguing; to learn, by means of this woman, all the
feminine secrets of the young household; whilst he, Malicorne, and his
friend Manicamp, should, between them, know all the male secrets of the
young community. It was by these means that a rapid and splendid fortune
might be acquired at one and the same time. Malicorne was a vile name;
he who bore it had too much wit to conceal this truth from himself; but
an estate might be purchased; and Malicorne of some place, or even De
Malicorne itself, for short, would ring more nobly on the ear.

It was not improbable that a most aristocratic origin might be hunted up
by the heralds for this name of Malicorne; might it not come from some
estate where a bull with mortal horns had caused some great misfortune,
and baptized the soil with the blood it had spilt? Certes, this plan
presented itself bristling with difficulties: but the greatest of all was
Mademoiselle de Montalais herself. Capricious, variable, close, giddy,
free, prudish, a virgin armed with claws, Erigone stained with grapes,
she sometimes overturned, with a single dash of her white fingers, or
with a single puff from her laughing lips, the edifice which had
exhausted Malicorne's patience for a month.

Love apart, Malicorne was happy; but this love, which he could not help
feeling, he had the strength to conceal with care; persuaded that at the
least relaxing of the ties by which he had bound his Protean female, the
demon would overthrow and laugh at him. He humbled his mistress by
disdaining her. Burning with desire, when she advanced to tempt him, he
had the art to appear ice, persuaded that if he opened his arms, she
would run away laughing at him. On her side, Montalais believed she did
not love Malicorne; whilst, on the contrary, in reality she did.
Malicorne repeated to her so often his protestation of indifference, that
she finished, sometimes, by believing him; and then she believed she
detested Malicorne. If she tried to bring him back by coquetry,
Malicorne played the coquette better than she could. But what made
Montalais hold to Malicorne in an indissoluble fashion, was that
Malicorne always came cram full of fresh news from the court and the
city; Malicorne always brought to Blois a fashion, a secret, or a
perfume; that Malicorne never asked for a meeting, but, on the contrary,
required to be supplicated to receive the favors he burned to obtain. On
her side, Montalais was no miser with stories. By her means, Malicorne
learnt all that passed at Blois, in the family of the dowager Madame; and
he related to Manicamp tales that made him ready to die with laughing,
which the latter, out of idleness, took ready-made to M. de Guiche, who
carried them to Monsieur.

Such, in two words, was the woof of petty interests and petty
conspiracies which united Blois with Orleans, and Orleans with Pairs; and
which was about to bring into the last named city where she was to
produce so great a revolution, the poor little La Valliere, who was far
from suspecting, as she returned joyfully, leaning on the arm of her
mother, for what a strange future she was reserved. As to the good man,
Malicorne - we speak of the syndic of Orleans - he did not see more
clearly into the present than others did into the future; and had no
suspicion as he walked, every day, between three and five o'clock, after
his dinner, upon the Place Sainte-Catherine, in his gray coat, cut after
the fashion of Louis XIII. and his cloth shoes with great knots of
ribbon, that it was he who was paying for all those bursts of laughter,
all those stolen kisses, all those whisperings, all those little
keepsakes, and all those bubble projects which formed a chain of forty-
five leagues in length, from the palais of Blois to the Palais Royal.

Alexandre Dumas pere