# The Story of Manon Lescaut and of the Chevalier des Grieux/Chapter 2

Chapter II.
I was seventeen years of age, and was completing my studies in philosophy at Amiens, where I had been sent by my parents, who belonged to one of the best families in P———. The life I led was so blameless and correct that my masters held me up as an example to the whole college; not that I made any extraordinary efforts to merit this commendation, but I was naturally of a sedate and gentle temperament. I applied myself to study as a matter of inclination; and the evidences which I gave of an instinctive aversion from vice were put to my credit as positive virtues. My rank, my rapid progress in my studies, and a certain comeliness of person, had secured me the acquaintance and esteem of all the leading people of the town.
I acquitted myself so much to the general approbation at my final public examinations, that his lordship, the Bishop of the Diocese, who was present on the occasion in question, proposed that I should enter upon an ecclesiastical career, in which I could not fail, he told me, to attain greater distinction than in the Order of Malta, for which my parents had destined me. By their wish I was already wearing the cross of that Order, with the title of the Chevalier des Grieux.
​Vacation being now at hand, I was preparing to return home to my father, who had promised soon to send me to the Academy. My only regret on leaving Amiens was that I had to part with a friend there to whom I had always been tenderly attached. He was my elder by a few years. We had been brought up together; but, as his family was far from wealthy, he was obliged to enter the Church, and had to remain at Amiens after I left, in order to pursue the studies demanded by that calling.
He was possessed of so many good qualities that I could not even begin to enumerate them now. You will find him displaying the best of them in the course of my story; and, above all, a zeal and unselfishness in friendship which surpass the most renowned examples of antiquity. Had I, in those days, followed his counsels, I should have always been a virtuous and happy man. Had I even heeded his rebukes when deep in the gulf into which my passions dragged me, I should have rescued something from the shipwreck of my fortune and reputation. But he has reaped no other fruit from his brotherly solicitude than the grief of finding it all in vain, and of being sometimes harshly requited for it by an ungrateful wretch, who has more than once actually resented it as officious.
I had settled on the time for my departure from Amiens. Alas, that I did not fix it for one day sooner! I should then have gone home to my father with my innocence all unsullied.
The very evening before I was to have left Amiens, as I was taking a walk with my friend, whose name was Tiberge, we saw the Arras diligence arrive, and strolled after it to the inn at which these conveyances set down their passengers. We were actuated merely by idle curiosity. Some women alighted, and withdrew at once; but one, a very young girl, remained standing in the ​the court-yard, while an elderly man, who appeared to be acting as her escort, busied himself in getting her baggage taken out of the boot.
Her beauty struck me as being so remarkable that I—who had never given a thought to the difference between the sexes, nor bestowed even the most passing attention upon a woman—I, be it repeated, whose virtue and propriety were the subjects of general eulogy, felt myself suddenly and madly enamoured of her. One of the defects of my character had always been that I was excessively timid and easily disconcerted; but now, so far from being restrained by that weakness, I advanced boldly towards her who was already the mistress of my heart.
Although she was even younger than myself, she received my polite advances without any signs of embarrassment. I asked her what brought her to Amiens, and whether she had any acquaintances in the town. She replied ingenuously that she had been sent there by her parents to enter a convent. Love, though it had been enthroned in my heart only a few short moments, had already so quickened my perception that I saw in this intention a mortal blow to all my hopes. From the manner in which I talked to her, she soon guessed what was passing in my mind; for she was by no means so unsophisticated as ​myself. She was being forced to take the veil against her will—doubtless in order to curb that love of pleasure which had already asserted itself in her character, and which, in after days, was the cause of all her misfortunes and my own. I combated the cruel intentions of her parents with all the arguments that my new-born love and scholastic eloquence could suggest. She affected neither severity nor disdain, and told me, after a moment's silence, that she foresaw, only too clearly, how unhappy she was going to be; but that it was apparently the will of Heaven, as there was no way of escaping her fate.
The tender glances and the winning air of sadness with which she accompanied these words—nay, rather let me say, the dominating influence of my destiny, which was hurrying me on to my ruin—did not allow me a moment's time for reflection as to what my answer should be. I assured her that if she would but rely on my honor and on the deep affection with which she had already inspired me, I would lay down my very life to deliver her from the tyranny of her parents, and to secure her happiness.
Many a time have I wondered, in reflecting over this incident, how I succeeded in mustering up such boldness and facility of expression; but Love would not rank among the gods did he not often work miracles.
​I added much more in the way of urgent entreaty. The fair stranger was well aware that men are not deceivers at the age I had then reached. She frankly admitted that if I could think of any way of rescuing her from her impending fate, she would consider herself indebted to me for what was more precious than life itself—her liberty.
I once more declared that there was nothing I would not undertake on her behalf; but, being too inexperienced to be able to hit upon a plan for aiding her then and there, I confined myself to this general assurance, which was not calculated to be of much assistance either to her or to myself.
Her aged Argus now making his approach, my hopes would have been baffled, had she not been gifted with enough ready wit to make up for my own deficiencies in that respect. As her guardian joined us, I was not a little surprised to hear her address me as cousin, and tell me, with the utmost composure, that as she had been so fortunate as to meet me at Amiens, she would postpone her entrance into the convent until the following day in order that she might have the pleasure of supping with me. I was not slow to catch the spirit of this ruse, and recommended her to put up at an inn, the landlord of which was devoted ​heart and soul to my service, having been my father's coachman for many years before he had established himself at Amiens.
I conducted her there myself, despite the muttered objections of her old protector; while my friend Tiberge, who was completely mystified by this scene, followed me without uttering a word. He had not overheard our conversation, having occupied himself in pacing up and down the court-yard while I was wooing my fair one. Dreading his virtuous scruples, I rid myself of his presence by asking him to execute a small commission for me; and thus had the happiness, when we reached the inn, of having my heart's mistress entirely to myself.
I soon discovered that I was not the mere boy I had hitherto supposed myself to be. My heart expanded under the influence of a thousand sensations of pleasure of which I had never so much as dreamed. A delicious warmth suffused itself through all my veins, and I yielded up my whole being to an indescribable ecstasy which robbed me for some time of the free use of my voice, and found expression only in my eyes.
Mademoiselle Manon Lescaut—for such, she told me, was her name—seemed to be well pleased at the effect pro​duced upon me by her charms; and I thought that I detected signs of no less emotion on her side. She confessed that she did not regard me with indifference, and that liberty would be all the sweeter to her if she owed it to me. She was eager to know who I was, and looked upon me with increased favor when I told her; for, being of humble origin herself, it flattered her self-esteem to find that she had made the conquest of a lover of my rank. We then began to consider by what means we could gain the happiness of mutual possession.
After much discussion we concluded that there was no other course open to us but flight. We should have to elude the vigilance of her escort, who, though only a servant, was not a man to be trifled with. We arranged that I should order a postchaise during the night, and that I should return to the inn early in the morning, before he was awake, when we would steal away quietly, and make straight for Paris, getting married upon our arrival there. I had about fifty crowns, the fruits of my small savings, while she had nearly double that amount. We imagined, inexperienced children that we were, that this sum was inexhaustible; and we reckoned no less confidently upon the success of the rest of our plan.
​After having eaten my supper with greater zest than I had ever before felt for that meal, I withdrew to put our project into execution. My arrangements were the more easily made from the fact that what little luggage I had was already packed in preparation for my intended return home the following day. I had thus nothing further to do than to have my trunk removed, and to hire a chaise, to be ready at five o'clock in the morning—at which hour the town gates would be opened. But I encountered an unforeseen obstacle, which came within an ace of defeating my whole scheme.
Tiberge, though only three years my elder, was a young man of mature judgment and very virtuous habits of life. He loved me with a deep affection such as is rarely to be met with. The beauty of Mademoiselle Manon, my eagerness to escort her, and the evident pains I had been at to get rid of him, had all combined to awaken some suspicion of my infatuation in his mind.
He had not ventured to return to the inn where he had left me, for fear that I might be annoyed at his doing so, but had gone to await me at my lodgings, where I found him when I came in, although it was ten o'clock in the evening. His presence disconcerted me, and he was not long in perceiving that I found it irksome.
"I am sure," he said to me frankly, "that you have some project in mind which you are anxious to conceal from me; I can see it by your manner."
I replied, brusquely enough, that I was not obliged to account to him for all my intentions.
"No," he responded, "but you have always treated me as a friend, and that relation presupposes some degree of confidence and candor."
He pressed me so earnestly and so persistently to disclose my secret to him, that, never having been in the ​habit of concealing anything from him, I took him entirely into my confidence regarding my passion for Manon.
He listened to my avowal with an expression of disapproval in his face which made me tremble. Above all, I repented my folly in divulging my project of flight to him. He told me that he was too sincerely my friend not to oppose it by every means in his power. He would first, he said, urge upon me every consideration which he thought likely to dissuade me from it, and if I did not then renounce this unworthy determination of mine, he would notify persons who would effectually prevent its execution. He thereupon lectured me gravely for more than a quarter of an hour, concluding with a repetition of his threat of informing against me unless I gave him my word of honor that I would not be guilty of conduct so opposed to all the dictates of reason and morality.
I was in despair at having betrayed myself at so awkward a juncture. However, love had sharpened my wits not a little during the last few hours, and, reflecting that I had not informed him that my plan was to be carried into effect the next day, I resolved to throw him off the scent by means of a slight equivocation.
"Tiberge," I said to him, "I have hitherto always believed you to be my friend, and I wished to put you to the ​test by confiding in you as I have done. It is true that I am in love; I have not deceived you on that score; but, as to my running away, that is not an affair to be undertaken at haphazard. Come for me at nine o'clock to-morrow morning, and I will, if possible, let you see the fair object of my passion. You shall then judge whether or not she is worthy of my taking such a step for her sake."
Assuring me again and again of his friendship for me, he at last left me alone.
I occupied the night in putting my affairs in order, and towards daybreak hastened to the inn, where I found Mademoiselle Manon awaiting me. She was at her window, which looked out on the street; so that, catching sight of me as I approached, she came down and opened the door for me herself. We stole softly away. She had nothing with her but a bundle containing some changes of linen, which I carried. We found the chaise awaiting us, and quickly left the town behind us.
I shall relate in due course how Tiberge acted when he realized that I had deceived him. His friendly zeal on my behalf lost none of its ardor, and you will see to what ​lengths he carried it, and that tears may well rise to my eyes at the thought of how I have always requited his devotion.
We pushed on our way with such speed that we arrived at St. Denis before night-fall. I had ridden beside the chaise all the way, and this had scarcely allowed of our speaking to one another, except while changing horses; but now that we were drawing so near to Paris, and felt that we were almost out of danger, we allowed ourselves time to partake of some refreshment, not a morsel having passed our lips since we left Amiens. Deeply enamored as I was of Manon, she succeeded in persuading me that she felt no less tenderly toward me. So little restraint did we place upon our caresses, that we had not even patience to wait until we were alone to indulge in them. Our postilions and the inn-keepers along the road stole wondering glances at us; and their surprise at seeing such passionate love-making between two children of our age was very apparent.
Our projects of marriage were forgotten at St. Denis. We defrauded the Church of her lights, and found ourselves united without having paused to reflect.
​It is certain that with my affectionate and constant nature, I should now have been happy for the rest of my life, had Manon remained faithful to me. The better I grew to know her, the more fascinating qualities did I discover in her. Her mind, her heart, her gentleness, and her beauty, were all links in a chain by which it was so sweet to be bound, that I should have asked for no other happiness than to be held captive by it forever. Yet, by a terrible caprice of fate, the very thing which might have given me complete felicity is that which has brought me to the verge of despair! I am at this moment the most miserable of men, in consequence of that self-same constancy from which I might justly have expected a life of supreme contentment and the most perfect rewards of love!
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