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quickly；' he replied。
〃 '/Poverino！/' cried the stranger； as he disappeared。
〃To talk of danger to a man in love is to sell him pleasure。
Sarrasine's valet had never seen his master so painstaking in the
matter of dress。 His finest sword； a gift from Bouchardon； the bow…
knot Clotilde gave him； his coat with gold braid； his waistcoat of
cloth of silver； his gold snuff…box； his valuable watch； everything
was taken from its place； and he arrayed himself like a maiden about
to appear before her first lover。 At the appointed hour； drunk with
love and boiling over with hope； Sarrasine； his nose buried in his
cloak； hurried to the rendezvous appointed by the old woman。 She was
waiting。
〃 'You are very late；' she said。 'Come。'
〃She led the Frenchman through several narrow streets and stopped in
front of a palace of attractive appearance。 She knocked； the door
opened。 She led Sarrasine through a labyrinth of stairways； galleries；
and apartments which were lighted only by uncertain gleams of
moonlight； and soon reached a door through the cracks of which stole a
bright light； and from which came the joyous sound of several voices。
Sarrasine was suddenly blinded when； at a word from the old woman； he
was admitted to that mysterious apartment and found himself in a salon
as brilliantly lighted as it was sumptuously furnished； in the centre
stood a bountifully supplied table； laden with inviolable bottles；
with laughing decanters whose red facets sparkled merrily。 He
recognized the singers from the theatre； male and female； mingled with
charming women； all ready to begin an artists' spree and waiting only
for him。 Sarrasine restrained a feeling of displeasure and put a good
face on the matter。 He had hoped for a dimly lighted chamber； his
mistress leaning over a brazier； a jealous rival within two steps；
death and love； confidences exchanged in low tones； heart to heart；
hazardous kisses； and faces so near together that La Zambinella's hair
would have touched caressingly his desire…laden brow； burning with
happiness。
〃 '/Vive la folie！/' he cried。 '/Signori e belle donne/； you will
allow me to postpone my revenge and bear witness to my gratitude for
the welcome you offer a poor sculptor。'
〃After receiving congratulations not lacking in warmth from most of
those present； whom he knew by sight； he tried to approach the couch
on which La Zambinella was nonchalantly reclining。 Ah！ how his heart
beat when he spied a tiny foot in one of those slippers whichif you
will allow me to say so； madameformerly imparted to a woman's feet
such a coquettish； voluptuous look that I cannot conceive how men
could resist them。 Tightly fitting white stockings with green clocks；
short skirts； and the pointed； high…heeled slippers of Louis XV。's
time contributed somewhat； I fancy； to the demoralization of Europe
and the clergy。〃
〃Somewhat！〃 exclaimed the marchioness。 〃Have you read nothing； pray？〃
〃La Zambinella；〃 I continued； smiling； 〃had boldly crossed her legs；
and as she prattled swung the upper one； a duchess' attitude very well
suited to her capricious type of beauty； overflowing with a certain
attractive suppleness。 She had laid aside her stage costume； and wore
a waist which outlined a slender figure； displayed to the best
advantage by a /panier/ and a satin dress embroidered with blue
flowers。 Her breast； whose treasures were concealed by a coquettish
arrangement of lace； was of a gleaming white。 Her hair was dressed
almost like Madame du Barry's； her face； although overshadowed by a
large cap； seemed only the daintier therefor； and the powder was very
becoming to her。 She smiled graciously at the sculptor。 Sarrasine；
disgusted beyond measure at finding himself unable to speak to her
without witnesses； courteously seated himself beside her； and
discoursed of music； extolling her prodigious talent； but his voice
trembled with love and fear and hope。
〃 'What do you fear？' queried Vitagliani； the most celebrated singer
in the troupe。 'Go on； you have no rival here to fear。'
〃After he had said this the tenor smiled silently。 The lips of all the
guests repeated that smile； in which there was a lurking expression of
malice likely to escape a lover。 The publicity of his love was like a
sudden dagger…thrust in Sarrasine's heart。 Although possessed of a
certain strength of character； and although nothing that might happen
could subdue the violence of his passion； it had not before occurred
to him that La Zambinella was almost a courtesan； and that he could
not hope to enjoy at one and the same time the pure delights which
would make a maiden's love so sweet； and the passionate transports
with which one must purchase the perilous favors of an actress。 He
reflected and resigned himself to his fate。 The supper was served。
Sarrasine and La Zambinella seated themselves side by side without
ceremony。 During the first half of the feast the artists exercised
some restraint； and the sculptor was able to converse with the singer。
He found that she was very bright and quick…witted； but she was
amazingly ignorant and seemed weak and superstitious。 The delicacy of
her organs was reproduced in her understanding。 When Vitagliani opened
the first bottle of champagne； Sarrasine read in his neighbor's eyes a
shrinking dread of the report caused by the release of the gas。 The
involuntary shudder of that thoroughly feminine temperament was
interpreted by the amorous artist as indicating extreme delicacy of
feeling。 This weakness delighted the Frenchman。 There is so much of
the element of protection in a man's love！
〃 'You may make use of my power as a shield！'
〃Is not that sentence written at the root of all declarations of love？
Sarrasine； who was too passionately in love to make fine speeches to
the fair Italian； was； like all lovers； grave； jovial； meditative； by
turns。 Although he seemed to listen to the guests； he did not hear a
word that they said； he was so wrapped up in the pleasure of sitting
by her side； of touching her hand； of waiting on her。 He was swimming
in a sea of concealed joy。 Despite the eloquence of divers glances
they exchanged； he was amazed at La Zambinella's continued reserve
toward him。 She had begun； it is true； by touching his foot with hers
and stimulating his passion with the mischievous pleasure of a woman
who is free and in love； but she had suddenly enveloped herself in
maidenly modesty； after she had heard Sarrasine relate an incident
which illustrated the extreme violence of his temper。 When the supper
became a debauch； the guests began to sing； inspired by the Peralta
and the Pedro…Ximenes。 There were fascinating duets； Calabrian
ballads； Spanish /sequidillas/； and Neapolitan /canzonettes/。
Drunkenness was in all eyes； in the music； in the hearts and voices of
the guests。 There was a sudden overflow of bewitching vivacity； of
cordial unconstraint； of Italian good nature； of which no words can
convey an idea to those who know only the evening parties of Paris；
the routs of London； or the clubs of Vienna。 Jests and words of love
flew from side to side like bullets in a battle； amid laughter；
impieties； invocations to th