Chapter XV
Original French
La belle Saint-Yves résiste à des propositions délicates.
La belle Saint-Yves, plus tendre encore que son amant, alla donc chezM. de Saint-Pouange, accompagnée de l’amie chez qui elle logeait,toutes deux cachées dans leurs coiffes. La première chose qu’elle vit àla porte ce fut l’abbé de Saint-Yves, son frère, qui en sortait. Ellefut intimidée; mais la dévote amie la rassura. C’est précisémentparcequ’on a parlé contre vous qu’il faut que vous parliez. Soyez sûreque dans ce pays les accusateurs ont toujours raison, si on ne se hâtede les confondre. Votre présence d’ailleurs, ou je me trompe fort, feraplus d’effet que les paroles de votre frère.
Pour peu qu’on encourage une amante passionnée, elle est intrépide. LaSaint-Yves se présente à l’audience. Sa jeunesse, ses charmes, ses yeuxtendres mouillés de quelques pleurs, attirèrent tous les regards.Chaque courtisan du sous-ministre oublia un moment l’idole du pouvoirpour contempler celle de la beauté. Le Saint-Pouange la fit entrer dansun cabinet; elle parla avec attendrissement et avec grâce.Saint-Pouange se sentit touché. Elle tremblait, il la rassura. Revenezce soir, lui dit-il; vos affaires méritent qu’on y pense et qu’on enparle à loisir; il y a ici trop de monde; on expédie les audiences troprapidement: il faut que je vous entretienne à fond de tout ce qui vousregarde. Ensuite, ayant fait l’éloge de sa beauté et de ses sentiments,il lui recommanda de venir à sept heures du soir.
Elle n’y manqua pas; la dévote amie l’accompagna encore, mais elle setint dans le salon, et lut le Pédagogue chrétien, pendant que leSaint-Pouange et la belle Saint-Yves étaient dans l’arrière-cabinet.Croiriez-vous bien, mademoiselle, lui dit-il d’abord, que votre frèreest venu me demander une lettre de cachet contre vous? En vérité j’enexpédierais plutôt une pour le renvoyer en Basse-Bretagne.—Hélas!monsieur, on est donc bien libéral de lettres de cachet dans vosbureaux, puisqu’on en vient solliciter du fond du royaume, comme despensions. Je suis bien loin d’en demander une contre mon frère. J’aibeaucoup à me plaindre de lui, mais je respecte la liberté des hommes;je demande celle d’un homme que je veux épouser, d’un homme à qui leroi doit la conservation d’une province, qui peut le servir utilement,et qui est le fils d’un officier tué à son service. De quoi est-ilaccusé? comment a-t-on pu le traiter si cruellement sans l’entendre?
Alors le sous-ministre lui montra la lettre du jésuite espion et celledu perfide bailli.—Quoi! il y a de pareils monstres sur la terre! et onveut me forcer ainsi à épouser le fils ridicule d’un homme ridicule etméchant! et c’est sur de pareils avis qu’on décide ici de la destinéedes citoyens! Elle se jeta à genoux, elle demanda avec des sanglots laliberté du brave homme qui l’adorait. Ses charmes en cet état parurentdans leur plus grand avantage. Elle était si belle, que leSaint-Pouange, perdant toute honte, lui insinua qu’elle réussirait sielle commençait par lui donner les prémices de ce qu’elle réservait àson amant. La Saint-Yves, épouvantée et confuse, feignit long-temps dene le pas entendre; il fallut s’expliquer plus clairement. Un mot lâchéd’abord avec retenue en produisait un plus fort suivi d’un autre plusexpressif. On offrit non seulement la révocation de la lettre decachet, mais des récompenses, de l’argent, des honneurs, desétablissements; et plus on promettait, plus le désir de n’être pasrefusé augmentait.
La Saint-Yves pleurait, elle était suffoquée, à demi renversée sur unsofa, croyant à peine ce qu’elle voyait, ce qu’elle entendait. LeSaint-Pouange, à son tour, se jeta à ses genoux. Il n’était pas sansagréments, et aurait pu ne pas effaroucher un coeur moins prévenu; maisSaint-Yves adorait son amant, et croyait que c’était un crime horriblede le trahir pour le servir. Saint-Pouange redoublait les prières etles promesses: enfin la tête lui tourna au point, qu’il lui déclara quec’était le seul moyen de tirer de sa prison l’homme auquel elle prenaitun intérêt si violent et si tendre. Cet étrange entretien seprolongeait. La dévote de l’antichambre, en lisant son *Pédagoguechrétien*, disait: Mon Dieu! que peuvent-ils faire là depuis deuxheures? jamais monseigneur de Saint-Pouange n’a donné une si longueaudience; peut-être qu’il a tout refusé à cette pauvre fille,puisqu’elle le prie encore.
Enfin sa compagne sortit de l’arrière-cabinet, tout éperdue, sanspouvoir parler, réfléchissant profondément sur le caractère des grandset des demi-grands, qui sacrifient si légèrement la liberté des hommeset l’honneur des femmes.
Elle ne dit pas un mot pendant tout le chemin. Arrivée chez l’amie,elle éclata, elle lui conta tout. La dévote fit de grands signes decroix. Ma chère amie, il faut consulter dès demain le P. Tout-à-tous,notre directeur; il a beaucoup de crédit auprès de M. de Saint-Pouange;il confesse plusieurs servantes de sa maison; c’est un homme pieux etaccommodant, qui dirige aussi des femmes de qualité: abandonnez-vous àlui, c’est ainsi que j’en use; je m’en suis toujours bien trouvée. Nousautres pauvres femmes nous avons besoin d’être conduites par unhomme.—Eh bien donc! ma chère amie, j’irai trouver demain le P.Tout-à-tous.
Musean translation
Complete machine-assisted Musean translation made directly from the French, independently of the Plain English edition. All twenty chapters and Voltaire’s three author notes are retained; Beuchot’s editorial apparatus is omitted.
The beautiful Saint-Yves resists delicate proposals.
The beautiful Saint-Yves, still more tenderhearted than her lover, therefore went to see Monsieur de Saint-Pouange, accompanied by the friend with whom she was staying, both of them concealed beneath their hoods. The first thing she saw at the door was her brother, the abbé de Saint-Yves, coming out. She took fright, but her devout friend reassured her. "It is precisely because someone has spoken against you that you must speak for yourself. Be sure that in this country accusers are always in the right unless you hurry to confound them. Besides, unless I am very much mistaken, your presence will have more effect than your brother's words."
Give a passionate woman in love the slightest encouragement, and she is fearless. Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves presented herself at the audience. Her youth, her charms, her tender eyes wet with a few tears drew every gaze. Each courtier of the deputy minister forgot the idol of power for a moment to contemplate the idol of beauty. Saint-Pouange had her shown into a private room; she spoke with feeling and grace. Saint-Pouange felt himself moved. She trembled; he reassured her. "Come back this evening," he told her. "Your affairs deserve thought, and we must discuss them at leisure. There are too many people here; these audiences are dispatched too quickly. I must talk with you thoroughly about everything that concerns you." Then, having praised her beauty and her feelings, he urged her to come at seven that evening.
She did not fail to appear. Her devout friend accompanied her again, but remained in the drawing room reading The Christian Tutor, while Saint-Pouange and the beautiful Saint-Yves were in the inner study. "Would you believe, mademoiselle," he began, "that your brother came to ask me for a lettre de cachet against you? In truth, I would sooner issue one to send him back to Lower Brittany." "Alas, monsieur, your offices must be very free with lettres de cachet, if people come from the farthest corners of the kingdom to solicit them as they would pensions. I am very far from asking for one against my brother. I have much to complain of in him, but I respect people's liberty. I ask for the liberty of a man I wish to marry, a man to whom the king owes the preservation of a province, who can serve him well, and who is the son of an officer killed in his service. What is he accused of? How could he have been treated so cruelly without a hearing?"
The deputy minister then showed her the letter from the Jesuit spy and the one from the treacherous bailiff. "What! There are such monsters on earth! And they mean to force me to marry the ridiculous son of a ridiculous, wicked man! And it is on reports like these that the fate of citizens is decided here!" She fell to her knees and, sobbing, begged for the freedom of the brave man who adored her. In this posture her charms appeared to their greatest advantage. She was so beautiful that Saint-Pouange, losing all shame, hinted that she would succeed if she began by giving him the first fruits of what she was reserving for her lover. Terrified and mortified, Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves long pretended not to understand him; he had to speak more plainly. A word at first ventured with restraint led to a stronger one, followed by another still more explicit. He offered not only to revoke the lettre de cachet, but rewards, money, honors, positions; and the more he promised, the more his desire not to be refused increased.
Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves wept, choking, half fallen back on a sofa, scarcely believing what she saw and heard. Saint-Pouange, in his turn, fell to his knees before her. He was not without attractions, and might not have frightened off a heart less firmly given elsewhere; but Saint-Yves adored her lover and believed it a dreadful crime to betray him in order to serve him. Saint-Pouange redoubled his entreaties and promises. At last he so lost his head that he declared this was the only way to free from prison the man in whom she took so ardent and tender an interest. This strange interview dragged on. Reading her Christian Tutor, the pious woman in the antechamber said, "My God! What can they have been doing in there for two hours? Monseigneur de Saint-Pouange has never granted so long an audience. Perhaps he has refused the poor girl everything, since she is still begging him."
At last her companion emerged from the inner study, utterly distraught, unable to speak, reflecting deeply on the character of the great and the half-great, who so lightly sacrifice the liberty of men and the honor of women.
She did not say a word all the way home. Once at her friend's house, she burst out and told her everything. The devout woman made great signs of the cross. "My dear friend, tomorrow without fail we must consult Father Tout-à-tous, our spiritual director. He has considerable influence with Monsieur de Saint-Pouange; he hears the confessions of several maidservants in his household. He is a pious and accommodating man, who also directs ladies of rank. Put yourself in his hands; that is what I do, and it has always served me well. We poor women need a man to guide us." "Very well, then, my dear friend! Tomorrow I will go and see Father Tout-à-tous."
Plain English translation
Complete machine-assisted Plain English translation made independently and directly from the French, not from the Musean edition. All twenty chapters and Voltaire’s three author notes are retained; Beuchot’s editorial apparatus is omitted.
The beautiful Saint-Yves resists some delicate proposals.
The beautiful Saint-Yves, even more loving than her lover, went to see Monsieur de Saint-Pouange with the friend she was staying with. Both women kept their faces hidden under their hoods. The first person she saw at the door was her brother, the abbé de Saint-Yves, coming out. This frightened her, but her devout friend reassured her. "It's precisely because someone has spoken against you that you need to speak for yourself. You can be sure that in this country the accusers are always right unless you hurry to prove them wrong. Besides, unless I'm badly mistaken, your presence will have more effect than your brother's words."
A woman passionately in love needs only a little encouragement to become fearless. Saint-Yves presented herself at the audience. Her youth, her beauty, and her tender eyes, wet with a few tears, drew everyone's attention. Every courtier around the deputy minister forgot the idol of power for a moment to gaze at the idol of beauty. Saint-Pouange took her into a private room. She spoke with feeling and grace. Saint-Pouange felt moved. She was trembling, and he reassured her. "Come back this evening," he told her. "Your affairs deserve some thought and a leisurely discussion. There are too many people here, and audiences are rushed through. I need to talk to you fully about everything that concerns you." Then, after praising her beauty and her feelings, he told her to come at seven that evening.
She came on time. Her devout friend went with her again, but stayed in the sitting room and read The Christian Educator while Saint-Pouange and the beautiful Saint-Yves were in the inner room. "Would you believe, mademoiselle," he began, "that your brother came to ask me for a royal warrant to imprison you? Honestly, I'd sooner issue one to send him back to Lower Brittany." "Oh, sir! Your offices must hand out these warrants very freely, if people come asking for them from the far end of the kingdom, as if they were pensions. I would never ask for one against my brother. I have a great deal to complain of in his behavior, but I respect people's freedom. I'm asking for the freedom of a man I want to marry. The king owes it to him that a province was saved. He can serve the king well, and he is the son of an officer killed in the king's service. What is he accused of? How could anyone treat him so cruelly without hearing him?"
Then the deputy minister showed her the letter from the Jesuit spy and the one from the treacherous bailiff. "What! Can there be monsters like this on earth? And this is how they mean to force me to marry the ridiculous son of a ridiculous, wicked man! Is this the sort of report you use here to decide people's fate?" She fell to her knees and, sobbing, begged for the freedom of the brave man who adored her. In this position her beauty showed to its greatest advantage. She was so beautiful that Saint-Pouange lost all shame. He hinted that she would succeed if she began by letting him be the first to enjoy what she was saving for her lover. Saint-Yves, horrified and embarrassed, pretended for a long time not to understand him. He had to make himself clearer. One word, spoken cautiously at first, led to a stronger one, then another more explicit still. He offered not only to cancel the royal warrant, but also rewards, money, honors, and secure positions. The more he promised, the more desperate he became not to be refused.
Saint-Yves was crying and gasping for breath, half collapsed on a sofa. She could hardly believe what she saw and heard. Saint-Pouange, in his turn, fell to his knees before her. He was not without charm, and might not have frightened off a heart less firmly committed. But Saint-Yves adored her lover and thought it would be a terrible crime to betray him in order to help him. Saint-Pouange doubled his pleas and promises. At last he became so carried away that he declared this was the only way to get the man she cared for so deeply and tenderly out of prison. This strange conversation dragged on. In the next room, the devout woman said as she read her Christian Educator, "My God! What can they have been doing in there for two hours? His lordship Saint-Pouange has never given such a long audience. Perhaps he has refused that poor girl everything, since she's still pleading with him."
At last her companion came out of the inner room, distraught and unable to speak. She was thinking deeply about the character of the great and the not-so-great, who so casually sacrifice men's freedom and women's honor.
She said nothing all the way back. Once they reached her friend's home, she burst out and told her everything. The devout woman made many signs of the cross. "My dear friend, first thing tomorrow we must consult Father Tout-à-tous, our spiritual adviser. He has a great deal of influence with Monsieur de Saint-Pouange. He hears the confessions of several maids in his household. He's a devout, accommodating man who also guides women of high rank. Put yourself in his hands. That's what I do, and it has always worked out well for me. We poor women need a man to guide us." "Well then, my dear friend, I'll go and see Father Tout-à-tous tomorrow."
About this section
Chapter XV is part of L’Ingénu, histoire véritable tirée des manuscrits du P. Quesnel by Voltaire. This page sets the French original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is chapter 15 of 20 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
Open the work page for the full contents, every edition, and the download links, or go back to Explore to browse other complete works in the European tradition. The reader keeps your place when you are signed in and lets you compare the original with each translation, one edition at a time.