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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Except me, mon cousin," said the baroness, coming nearer to the writing-table. "Except you, ma cousine," he answered, turning in his chair and taking her hand. He glanced up at her with eyes that would appear to the ordinary British mind to express a passionate devotion, eminently French and thrilling and terrible, but which really reflected only a very honest and brotherly affection.
"For all that, I must torture you a little more, MA BELLE COUSINE, with my interrogatories; for how shall I ever turn author unless on the strength of the information which you have so often procured me on the ancient state of manners?" "Stay, I cannot allow you to give your points of enquiry a name so very venerable, if I am expected to answer them. Ancient is a term for antediluvians.
"You will do nothing of the sort, I beg, ma cousine. What I have done, was done for you; I desire neither thanks nor any other thing from La Calibana. That she remain out of my sight when possible, that she hold her tongue when we must be together, that is all I demand. Reasonable, I hope? If not " She shrugged her shoulders and began to hum a love-song. Margaret sighed.
Laudersdale, after a moment. "I am sorry, instead of a fortune, to give them a bar-sinister." "Your daughter is ignorant? your wife?" "Entirely. Will you allow me to invite them in here? They should see this paper." "You do not anticipate any unpleasant effect?" "Not the slightest Marguerite has no notion of want or of pride. Her first and only thought will be sa cousine Hélène." And Mr.
I read Balzac for instance I encounter the admirable portrait of Valérie Marneffe in La Cousine Bette." "And you contrast it with the poverty of Emile Augier's Séraphine in Les Lionnes Pauvres? I was awaiting you there. That's the cheval de bataille of you fellows." "What an extraordinary discussion! What dreadful authors!" Lady Agnes murmured to her son.
Where is she now, that flower of northern snow, once seen for a season in Paris? Has she returned to her native northern solitudes, great gulfs of sea water, mountain rock, and pine? Balzac's genius is in his titles as heaven is in its stars: "Melmoth Reconcilié," "Jesus-Christ en Flandres," "Le Revers d'un Grand Homme," "La Cousine Bette."
She has fine broad brows and a patient face; when she smiles, out of mere kindness for my solitary goings, it is pleasant to note the gleam of light on her teeth and lips. I take off my hat, as Luca or Lippo would have done, to "ma cousine la Reine des cieux." Thus goes life In Pistoja and the rest of the world.
Compare the opening lines in the original and in the translation, and you will see the difference between the sincere expression of a vision and the beautiful writing of an exercise. Here is Villon's beginning: Dictes-moy où, n'en quel pays, Est Flora, la belle Romaine? Archipiade, ne Thaïs, Qui fut sa cousine germaine? And here is Rossetti's jaunty English:
She dared not even summon a locksmith, for locksmith tongues are free; and who would not shoot out the lip at poor Jeanne, hearing the miserable story at breakfast-tables to-morrow? "You must marry Jeanne, mon cousin," cried mamma through the keyhole. "Impossible, ma cousine. You know I am fiancé," laughed he. Nevertheless he did!
Hector was half disposed to scold his sister for rambling over the hills alone, but Louis was full of tender compassion for la belle cousine, and would not suffer her to be chidden.
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