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Updated: June 26, 2025
It contained two sarcophagi: the first held the remains of Madame Dorine, long since dead; the other was new, and bore on one side the letters J. D., in monogram, interwoven with fleurs-de-lis. The funeral train stopped at the gate of the small garden that enclosed the place of burial, only the immediate relatives follow-ing the bearers into the tomb.
Dorine Mademoiselle Choin and the marechal d'Uxelles Zamor M. de Maupeou's wig Henriette The duc de Villeroi and Sophie Letter from the comtesse du Barry to the duc de Villeroi His reply The countess writes again Madame du Barry and Sophie Louis XV and the comtesse du Barry
M. Dorine, muffled in his cloak, threw himself on the back seat of the landau, too abstracted in his grief to observe that he was the only occupant of the vehicle. There was a sound of wheels grating on the gravelled avenue, and then all was silence again in the cemetery of Montmartre.
* This wretch, whom the comtesse du Barry loaded with her favours and benefits, conducted her to the scaffold. There was one member of my establishment, however, whom I preferred to either Dorine or Zamor and this was Henriette, who was sincerely attached to me, and who, for that very reason, was generally disliked throughout the castle.
Three persons were sitting in a salon whose one large window overlooked the Place Vendôme. M. Dorine, with his back half turned on the other two occupants of the apartment, was reading the Journal des Débats in an alcove, pausing from time to time to wipe his glasses, and taking scrupulous pains not to glance towards the lounge at his right, on which were seated Mile.
She, however, indemnified herself for this extra complaisance by barking and biting at all who approached; and the handsomest, best turned leg in the court was not secure from the sharp teeth of mademoiselle Dorine. Nevertheless, all vied in praising and fondling her, and I was enchanted with the general admiration she excited, as well as the attention she received.
Then might not the undertaker return for the candlestick, probably not left by design? Or, again, might not M. Dorine send fresh wreaths of flowers, to take the place of those which now diffused a pungent, aromatic odor throughout the chamber? Ah! what unlikely chances! But if one of these things did not happen speedily, it had better never happen. How long could he keep life in himself?
Did we merely take his actions into account, Tartuffe would belong to drama: it is only when we take his gestures into consideration that we find him comic. You may remember how he comes on to the stage with the words: "Laurent, lock up my hair-shirt and my scourge." He knows Dorine is listening to him, but doubtless he would say the same if she were not there.
It was nevertheless clear to her that there were a lot of things SHE hadn't told Mr. Flack, as well as a great many she had: perhaps those were the things that lady had put in Florine or Dorine the one she had mentioned at Mme. de Brecourt's.
A photographic exactitude in dialogue is now the exclusive fashion; but even in the ablest hands it tells us no more I think it even tells us less than Molière, wielding his artificial medium, has told to us and to all time of Alceste or Orgon, Dorine or Chrysale. The historical novel is forgotten.
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