Discovery

by Guy de Maupassant

　　

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The steamer was crowded with people and the crossing promised to be good.I was going from Havre to Trouville.The ropes were thrown off, the whistle blew for the last time, the wholeboat started to tremble, and the great wheels began to revolve, slowly atfirst, and then with ever-increasing rapidity.We were gliding along the pier, black with people. Those on board werewaving their handkerchiefs, as though they were leaving for America, andtheir friends on shore were answering in the same manner.The big July sun was shining down on the red parasols, the light dresses,the joyous faces and on the ocean, barely stirred by a ripple. When wewere out of the harbor, the little vessel swung round the big curve andpointed her nose toward the distant shore which was barely visiblethrough the early morning mist. On our left was the broad estuary of theSeine, her muddy water, which never mingles with that of the ocean,making large yellow streaks clearly outlined against the immense sheet ofthe pure green sea.As soon as I am on a boat I feel the need of walking to and fro, like asailor on watch. Why? I do not know. Therefore I began to thread myway along the deck through the crowd of travellers. Suddenly I heard myname called. I turned around. I beheld one of my old friends, HenriSidoine, whom I had not seen for ten years.We shook hands and continued our walk together, talking of one thing oranother. Suddenly Sidoine, who had been observing the crowd ofpassengers, cried out angrily:"It's disgusting, the boat is full of English people!"It was indeed full of them. The men were standing about, looking overthe ocean with an all-important air, as though to say: "We are theEnglish, the lords of the sea! Here we are!"The young girls, formless, with shoes which reminded one of the navalconstructions of their fatherland, wrapped in multi-colored shawls, weresmiling vacantly at the magnificent scenery. Their small heads, plantedat the top of their long bodies, wore English hats of the strangestbuild.And the old maids, thinner yet, opening their characteristic jaws to thewind, seemed to threaten one with their long, yellow teeth. On passingthem, one could notice the smell of rubber and of tooth wash.Sidoine repeated, with growing anger:"Disgusting! Can we never stop their coming to France?"I asked, smiling:"What have you got against them? As far as I am concerned, they don'tworry me."He snapped out:"Of course they don't worry you! But I married one of them."I stopped and laughed at him."Go ahead and tell me about it. Does she make you very unhappy?"He shrugged his shoulders."No, not exactly.""Then she--is not true to you?""Unfortunately, she is. That would be cause for a divorce, and I couldget rid of her.""Then I'm afraid I don't understand!""You don't understand? I'm not surprised. Well, she simply learned howto speak French--that's all! Listen."I didn't have the least desire of getting married when I went to spendthe summer at Etretat two years ago. There is nothing more dangerousthan watering-places. You have no idea how it suits young girls. Parisis the place for women and the country for young girls."Donkey rides, surf-bathing, breakfast on the grass, all these things aretraps set for the marriageable man. And, really, there is nothingprettier than a child about eighteen, running through a field or pickingflowers along the road."I made the acquaintance of an English family who were stopping at thesame hotel where I was. The father looked like those men you see overthere, and the mother was like all other Englishwomen."They had two sons, the kind of boys who play rough games with balls,bats or rackets from morning till night; then came two daughters, theelder a dry, shrivelled-up Englishwoman, the younger a dream of beauty,a heavenly blonde. When those chits make up their minds to be pretty,they are divine. This one had blue eyes, the kind of blue which seems tocontain all the poetry, all the dreams, all the hopes and happiness ofthe world!"What an infinity of dreams is caused by two such eyes! How well theyanswer the dim, eternal question of our heart!"It must not be forgotten either that we Frenchmen adore foreign women.As soon as we meet a Russian, an Italian, a Swede, a Spaniard, or anEnglishwoman with a pretty face, we immediately fall in love with her.We enthuse over everything which comes from outside--clothes, hats,gloves, guns and--women. But what a blunder!"I believe that that which pleases us in foreign women is their accent.As soon as a woman speaks our language badly we think she is charming,if she uses the wrong word she is exquisite and if she jabbers in anentirely unintelligible jargon, she becomes irresistible."My little English girl, Kate, spoke a language to be marvelled at.At the beginning I could understand nothing, she invented so many newwords; then I fell absolutely in love with this queer, amusing dialect.All maimed, strange, ridiculous terms became delightful in her mouth.Every evening, on the terrace of the Casino, we had long conversationswhich resembled spoken enigmas."I married her! I loved her wildly, as one can only love in a dream.For true lovers only love a dream which has taken the form of a woman."Well, my dear fellow, the most foolish thing I ever did was to give mywife a French teacher. As long as she slaughtered the dictionary andtortured the grammar I adored her. Our conversations were simple. Theyrevealed to me her surprising gracefulness and matchless elegance; theyshowed her to me as a wonderful speaking jewel, a living doll made to bekissed, knowing, after a fashion, how to express what she loved. Shereminded me of the pretty little toys which say 'papa' and 'mamma' whenyou pull a string."Now she talks--badly--very badly. She makes as many mistakes as ever--but I can understand her."I have opened my doll to look inside--and I have seen. And now I haveto talk to her!"Ah! you don't know, as I do, the opinions, the ideas, the theories of awell-educated young English girl, whom I can blame in nothing, and whorepeats to me from morning till night sentences from a French readerprepared in England for the use of young ladies' schools."You have seen those cotillon favors, those pretty gilt papers, whichenclose candies with an abominable taste. I have one of them. I tore itopen. I wished to eat what was inside and it disgusted me so that I feelnauseated at seeing her compatriots."I have married a parrot to whom some old English governess might havetaught French. Do you understand?"The harbor of Trouville was now showing its wooden piers covered withpeople.I said:"Where is your wife?"He answered:"I took her back to Etretat.""And you, where are you going?""I? Oh, I am going to rest up here at Trouville."Then, after a pause, he added:"You have no idea what a fool a woman can be at times!"

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