The Romance of Violette

by Alexandre Dumas

  She soon recovered and said:

  “Oh, I am dead!”

  “Dead!” I cried. “You dead! Just as if you said I was dead. Oh, no! on the contrary, we are beginning to live.” And I covered her with kisses which made her writhe as if they had been so many bites. Then she began in her turn to bite me with little passionate cries. Each time our lips met there was a pause, full of voluptuous pleasure.

  Suddenly she gave a cry of astonishment, and seized with both hands the unknown object which had caused her surprise, as if the veil were torn asunder.

  “I understand,” said she, “it is with this-But it is quite impossible.”

  “Violette, my sweet darling, I can no longer restrain myself; I shall become mad!”

  I tried to tear myself away from her embraces.

  “No,” she said. “Remain if you love me. Do not be afraid of hurting me, I wish it.”

  She then slipped under me, clasped her arms around my neck, twined her thighs round mine, pushing her body against my own.

  “I wish it,” she repeated-“I wish it.”

  Suddenly she gave a little shriek.

  All my fine resolutions had vanished. At the same time that Violette began to understand what was a maidenhead, she had lost her own.

  On hearing her cry out, I stopped.

  “Oh, no” she said, “go on!… go on!… You hurt me; but if you did not hurt me, I should be too happy! I wish to have pain! Go, do not stop! Do, dear Christian, my beloved! my friend! Oh, I shall go mad!

  “Oh, it is like fire! Oh, I die!

  “Take me, take all!”

  Ah! Mahomet fully knew by what dream he should enthrall man when he gave his disciples the sensual Paradise-a bottomless abyss of voluptuous rapture always renewed.

  We spent a night full of bliss-of passionate caresses, and never closed eyes till day break.

  “Ah!” said she, on waking and embracing me, “I hope now I am no longer a virgin.”

  CHAPTER IV

  The pain which poor Violette had suffered was not serious; but it was irritating when not counteracted by love's pleasures. I told her before leaving that she should bathe the injured parts in bran water, with an application of a decoction of marshmallow.

  I had to explain to her the anatomy of the parts under treatment, and, with the aid of a looking glass, and thanks to the pliancy of her body, I was able to make the demonstration on her own person.

  Violette, in her innocence, had never thought of looking at herself and what she saw was perfectly unknown to her.

  During the night we spent together she had acquired some vague notions on the way of begetting children. I began by explaining to her the general and physical effect of nature, which is the reproduction of the human kind, the perfecting of this species being quite a secondary matter, a detail of society.

  I further pointed out that it was solely with that object that nature had ordained such rapturous sensations in the conjunctions of the sexes, and that the certainty of eternal victory of life over death rested entirely in the attraction which was experienced by all living things, from man to plants.

  Then I went into details and explained to her the part played by each organ. I began with the clitoris, the seat of pleasure in young girls, and which is so little developed with them. I then passed on to the membrane of Hymen, thrown as a veil of modesty on the vagina, which later on becomes the maternal outlet. In short, I disclosed to her all the mysteries of the organs of procreation.

  She listened with the utmost attention and seemed to drink in all my words, which impressed themselves one by one on her memory.

  After this I left her dreaming and pondering over all that I had told her, and wondering that so many things should be concealed by the veil of her innocence.

  My resolve was to devote my spare time to Violette's company, but not to neglect meanwhile my usual labours. The lectures which I attended at the School of Medicine, and studies at different museums, always took place in the daytime, I could therefore very well manage to carry them on concurrently with my nocturnal occupations at the Rue Saint Augustin.

  When I returned that evening to Violette's room, I found the tea all ready, with cakes and other delicacies. In my absence, Violette had performed her duties as mistress of the house. We therefore dismissed Leonie, with those services we could very well dispense.

  We were once more alone. I had left with Violette the preceding evening, a copy of a letter for M. Beruchet. She had written it and forwarded it; there was nothing further to be done in that quarter, and we might rest in peace. No unpleasant enquiries or researches would now be made on account of Violette's sudden disappearance.

  She had been too busy thinking to feel dull. All I had told her made an impression on her mind, and she had been pondering on the mysteries I had disclosed. Then, her curiosity being awakened, she had divested herself of all her garments, lighted the candles, and minutely examined her person. But as she had never seen any other woman naked she could not judge the degree of perfection or imperfection of the different parts of her form. Getting tired of this examination, she had set herself to read, but as chance would have it, the book she had taken up was just the sort of book that would set her mind to working. She was in an utter state of perplexity, for the work she was perusing was, Mademoiselle de Maupin by Theophile Gautier.

  Now Mademoiselle de Maupin, in the garb of a dashing cavalier, made love to a young lady, and the intrigue wound up by one of those enigmatical scenes of which only a perfect knowledge of the ways of ancient civilization could furnish any clue.

  This was the very scene that made poor Violette wonder so. I explained that, in the same way that among molluscs and plants hermaphrodites are to be found (or beings possessing either sex) there were in the animal kingdom, on woman especially, instances of bisexual organs, in appearance at least, on account of the large proportions of the clitoris. I told her that the Greeks, great worshippers, or rather fanatics, of physical beauty, with the view of creating beauteous forms not existing in nature, supposed that the son of Mercury and Venus had been seen bathing in the waters of a fountain, by the nymph Salamacis, who begged the gods to unite her body to that of her lover. The gods granted her prayer, and from the adjunction of female beauty to male beauty there sprang a creature with both sexes, experiencing the same amorous desires for man or woman, and able to satisfy them in both ways.

  I promised to take her to the museum to see the Hermaphrodite of Farnese, which, reclining in an easy position on a couch, combines in his person the beauty of both man and woman.

  But I explained that this perfect distinction of sexes did not exist in nature, though it is a fact that women with an elongated clitoris often have a marked penchant for persons of their own sex. This was an occasion for relating the story of Sappho, the founder of that worship which, though established hundreds of years ago, has still so many disciples in modern society.

  I told her there were two Sapphos-one from Eresas, the other from Mitylene; the one a courtesan, the other a priestess; the one of perfect beauty, the other of ordinary attractions. The adoration of the Greeks for beauty was so great that they struck medals representing the courtesan of Eresas as though she had been a queen.

  The other, the Sappho of Mitylene, the less attractive, had reached the marriageable age without having loved or being loved, and she resolved, in imitation of the Amazons of old, to form a league against men, but this new league was still more complete, insomuch that once a year the Amazons allowed their husbands to visit them in their island, whereas the disciples of Sappho made the vow to keep aloof altogether from males, and to have lovers none but persons of their own sex.

  “But,” asked Violette, innocently, “what can women do together?”

  “They can do what I did to you the day before yesterday with finger and tongue; besides, the name which was given them explains the arts to which they give themselves up. They are called Tribades, from a verb which signifies to rub.”
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br />   Sappho moreover, invented an instrument made of certain materials which in shape and appearance resembled the virile member.

  Ezekiel, who lived three hundred years after Sappho, reproached the women of Jerusalem with making use of these kinds of images made of gold and silver.

  The scandal caused by Sappho grew to such proportions that Venus thought it high time to put an end to it, the more so as the Lesbian religion was being propagated to the other islands of Greece, and, in consequence, her altars were in danger of-being left without worshippers.

  There existed a handsome ferryman named Phon, who took passengers from one shore to the other in the harbour of Mitylene. She disguised herself as an old beggar woman, and asked the ferryman to take her over free of charge. But on reaching the opposite bank it so happened that Phon became aware that his passenger was not an old beggar woman, but the goddess of Beauty and Love.

  The sight of Venus produced so potential and visible an effect upon the handsome boatman that it would have been ungrateful on her part not to grant him a reward. Venus therefore blew all round them a cloud which enveloped and hid them from view.

  After an hour the cloud was wafted away. Phon found himself alone, but Venus had presented him with a certain perfumed oil which, when applied to his person, would make him loved by all women.

  Phon, of course, did not fail to make use of his oil, and as Sappho, when passing him by chance, inhaled the perfume from his locks, she fell in love with handsome Phon, and loved him as she was capable of loving, that is, madly.

  Phon jilted her. This was the revenge of the goddess. Seeing that Phon was not to be won, and not being able to renew the miracle of Samilies, Sappho proceeded to Leucate to leap off the rock.

  “Why should she jump off a rock?” asked Violette.

  “Because disappointed lovers who leaped from the rock into the sea were cured if they could safely reach the bank; if drowned, the cure was still more complete.”

  “And do you say there are such women?”

  “Many.”

  “Wait a little.”

  “What?”

  “I remember-”

  “Ah, I suppose some fair lady fell in love with you.”

  “Well, I believe that may be the case.”

  “'Pon my word, it would be an amusing thing. Tell me all about it.”

  She settled down on my knees.

  “Well,” she said, “when I was at Madame Beruchet's, there came sometimes in a fine carriage and pair, with a black footman, a great lady whom they called Madame la Comtesse. When she bought corsets, or dressing gowns or drawers, she would have me in the back shop, to see that the articles fitted her.

  “At first she did not pay more attention to me than to the others, but by degrees, it seemed to her that nothing she bought would suit her unless it passed through my hands; so much so that she would buy any article offered to her as my own make, though I had never touched it.

  “Four days ago-but you will see I had never given any thought to it at the time, but I remember now-they had some goods to be delivered to her, and she sent her carriage saying that I, and no other girl, should take them to her. I went and found her alone in a small boudoir hung with satin, and a quantity of vases and beautiful china about. The lady's maid was there and asked whether she should wait on her, but the Comtesse dismissed her, saying she would not for the time require her services. Indeed, when we were alone, she said it was all very well, but I must try on myself all the articles ordered, because if she tried them on she would never be able to tell whether they fitted.

  “I pointed out that I was shorter by a head, and that consequently, it would be impossible to know how they would fit her; but she would not hear me, and began to undress me.

  “I offered no resistance though I was quite ashamed, and I dared not open my lips while she divested me of my kerchief and my bodice, exclaiming the while: 'Oh! the pretty neck! Ah! what beautiful shoulders! What charming little bubbles!' and she kissed my neck, my throat and bosom, passing her hands all over and her lips afterwards. Suddenly she said: 'But I forgot, you must try on the drawers.'

  “They were pretty drawers with embroidery. She pulled off mine by putting her hands under my chemise, and said: 'Why, her skin is really like satin!'

  “'You must one day take a bath with me, will you not? pretty darling, and I will rub you with almond paste and you will become as white as ermine; and, besides, you will have a pretty little black tail, like an ermine.' Saying this, she tried to put her hand on my hair, but I made a spring backwards.

  “'Why, you little wild thing, what is the matter with you? Why do you shrink away from me? Do I frighten you?' then she embraced me; but seeing my blushes and perceiving that I was trembling all over, no doubt she dared not push matters further, as she said: 'Come, try that on yourself,' I tried the drawers on. They were too large and too long for me. That gave her a pretext for passing her hands up my thighs in order to pull them up. For a moment her hand remained motionless, or I should say rather that it moved up and down gently so that it seemed as if it were trembling.

  “Finally, when she had well kissed me, caressed me, and felt me all over, 'Oh!' she said, 'I think they will fit beautifully. In fact I am sure.'

  “Then she dressed me herself, caressing me the while as (before. At last, just before I left, she whispered in my ear:

  “'Do not forget that next Sunday you will spend all day with me, that we will take a bath together, and that we dine and go to the theatre together. Mind you, dress yourself prettily. I shall call for you in the afternoon about two o'clock.'“

  “But, Sunday is tomorrow!”

  “Well, she will not find me at the shop, that's all!”

  “How is it you did not breathe a word of all this business?”

  “So many things have happened to me during the last few days that I have not even thought of the Comtesse. What a disappointment for her!” and with these words the little romp clapped her hands.

  A thought suddenly struck me.

  “Would you be afraid if a woman made love to you?”

  “I! What should I be afraid of?”

  “I don't know.”

  “No; especially if I am forewarned and I know what it is. Come, you have formed some plan?”

  “I? No, I confess, however, that I should feel amused to see how a woman sets about it, to make love to another woman.”

  “Just, as if you hadn't seen that already, you wicked man!”

  “No, I once saw some girls playing at that sort of thing for the sake of money; but you know, it was not the real thing.”

  “Well, that is a pity.”

  “Perhaps it would be possible to renew your acquaintance with her?”

  “How?”

  “Do you know her address?”

  “No.”

  “But you were at her house.”

  “The carriage took me there, but I did not notice the street or number.”

  “If such is the case let us say no more about it. You will find some other lady-love, perhaps more than one-I feel certain.”

  “Well, now when I come to think of it, you are not jealous, sir?”

  “Of a woman, why should I be jealous of a woman? She will only excite your amorous desires, and I shall get a much better reception when I come to satisfy them.”

  “But if it were a man?”

  “Ah!” said I, in as serious a tone as I could; “that's another matter. If you deceived me with a man, I should kill you!”

  “I am glad to hear that. I was getting afraid that you did not love me.”

  “Do not love you? You will see!” Luckily it was easy for me to give her proofs of my love. I took her in my arms and put her on the bed. In a moment we lay stark naked side by side.

  I had forgotten till then to pull aside the curtain which hid the looking glass, I slipped the cord and it came into view.

  Violette uttered an exclamation of joy.

  “Ah!” said she, “ho
w charming. We shall be able to see ourselves in the glass.”

  “Yes; as long as you can look on.”

  “I bet you I will look to the very end.”

  “I bet you cannot.”

  I began operations by imprinting a long kiss on that part called the Mount of Venus.

  “Ah!” said she, “you will not be able to see anything now.”

  “You will use your eyes for both of us, and I will guess as much as I can.”

  I then used my tongue as I had done before.

  “Ah!” she said, “I know what you are doing; but the sensation is even better than the other day. Oh! where do you put your tongue now? The sensation is so delightful, I think I shall die!… Good gracious!… No! no! I will not yield! I will resist!… I will… Ah I am vanquished!… My dear love, my eyes are closing up… I cannot see anything. I die!”

  Nights follow one another without being alike for lovers only, but as the description of this one might seem the exact reproduction of the preceding one, I shall beg leave of the reader to say nothing further about it.

  The next day about twelve o'clock, I was drawing a sketch of Violette from memory, when there came a ring at the bell, and my servant said the Comtesse de Mainfoy wished to see me. I had a foreboding.

  “Usher her in,” I said to my man, and going to the door of the dining room, I led the way to my bedroom, which served me also for a study and a studio.

  She seemed at first a little embarrassed, took an armchair and after some hesitation lifted her veil. She was a tall young woman of about eight and twenty, with magnificent curls flowing over her shoulders; her eyebrows, eyelashes and eyes were jet black, her nose straight, her lips as red as coral, with a rather heavy chin. Her breasts and hips were not so well developed as one might have expected from her height.

  Perceiving that I awaited an explanation of her visit:

  “Sir,” she said, “you will perhaps think it rather strange that I should call on you; but you alone can give me the information I seek.”