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Updated: May 10, 2025
About three years after Hortense's marriage, in 1841, Baron Hulot d'Ervy was supposed to have sown his wild oats, to have "put up his horses," to quote the expression used by Louis XV.'s head surgeon, and yet Madame Marneffe was costing him twice as much as Josepha had ever cost him.
As it happens, for the last six months, Bijou, who works for me his what shall I say ?" "His mistress," said Madame Hulot. "His mistress," repeated Josepha, "has not been here. Mademoiselle Olympe Bijou is perhaps divorced. Divorce is common in the thirteenth arrondissement."
You say you love a woman, you treat her like a duchess, and then you want to degrade her? Well, my good fellow, and you are right. This woman is no match for Josepha. That young person has the courage of her disgrace, while I I am a hypocrite, and deserve to be publicly whipped. Alas! Josepha is protected by her cleverness and her wealth.
"For you know very well, Josepha, that Tannucci is the king of your lazzaroni-king, and when he behaves amiss, puts him on his knees for punishment. Now when you are his wife, you can go and comfort him in disgrace, and kneel down in the corner by his side. How interesting it will be!"
"An honest child, and wanting bread. This is Paris I have been there!" "It is a bargain," replied the old man, getting up and rubbing his hands. When Olympe Bijou was gone, Josepha looked mischievously at the Baron. "If you want things to keep straight, Daddy," said she, "be as firm as the Public Prosecutor on the bench. Keep a tight hand on her, be a Bartholo!
"But Josepha of Bavaria is she handsomer?" "Handsomer, your majesty," cried the old count. "It is said that she is a good and estimable person; if this be true, her soul is very, very different from her body. Indeed, her beauty may be said to rival that of the Princess Mary." "You are a keen critic," sighed the empress.
Day by day Josepha grew worse until she lay dying. Still the empress shed no tear. Bending over her daughter's bed, she received her last sigh. And now she watched the corpse, and would not be moved, though the emperor and Van Swieten implored her to seek rest.
"What, do not I love you, Josepha?" said the Duke in a low voice. "You, perhaps, may love me truly," said she in his ear, and she smiled. "But I do not love you in the way they describe, with such love as makes the world dark in the absence of the man beloved. You are delightful to me, useful but not indispensable; and if you were to throw me over to-morrow, I could have three dukes for one."
It cost me two thousand francs a year only to cultivate her talent as a singer. She made me music-mad; I took a box at the opera for her and for my daughter, and went there alternate evenings with Celestine or Josepha." "What, the famous singer?" "Yes, madame," said Crevel with pride, "the famous Josepha owes everything to me.
"He is a lucky man if he can find a second Josepha within twenty-four hours!" said Crevel. "But I am not altogether surprised, for he told me one evening at supper that when he was a young man he always had three mistresses on hand that he might not be left high and dry the one he was giving over, the one in possession, and the one he was courting for a future emergency.
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