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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Le brillant de votre esprit donne un si grand eclat a votre teint et a vos yeux, que quoiqu'il semble que l'esprit ne doit toucher que les oreilles, il est pourtaut certain que la votre eblouit les yeux."* Lettres de Madame de Sevigne.
She was not, however, exactly pretty or well made, but had the dazzlingly fair complexion of an Englishwoman, "un teint de rose et de jasmin," a profusion of light hair, with eyes blue and bright as those of Pallas. She had inherited some of the nobler qualities of her grandfather, Henri Quatre, and all the graces and intriguing spirit of her mother, Henrietta Maria.
"Oh, Hendchen, my darling beautiful, you have so lovely teint after your badth oh, I am zo hangry, oh Hendchen, I luff you zo, I am zo haypie, kiss me one small, small kiss." "What a baby you are," said Miriam, half turning as the girl's warm lips brushed the angle of her jaw. "Yes, we'll go home, come along." The corridor was almost airless. She longed to get out into the open.
Peering across the table to see whether my eyes were brown or black, or my hair black or brown, he never lost an opportunity to make a fawning remark before writing it down. He described my teint as pale; I felt pale, and think I must have looked very pale, for he said: "Vous etes bien pale, Madame. Voudriez-vous quelque chose a boire?"
He had not only remarkable natural talent, but came of a family of ardent musicians, who devoted themselves to his education. At five years of age he was nourished on the orchestral score of Don Juan; as a little boy "De dix ans, délicat, frêle, le teint jaunet, Mais confiant, naïf, plein d'ardeur et de joie,"
Et neque jam color est misto candore rubori; Nec vigor, et vires, et quae modo rise placebant; Nec corpus remanet . OVID, Met. iii. 491. Her spirits faint, Her blooming cheeks assume a pallid teint, And scarce her form remains.
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