# Teleny, or The Reverse of the Medal/Chapter VII

CHAPTER VII
"ON the morrow the events of the night before seemed like a rapturous dream."
"Still you must have felt rather seedy, after the many——"
"Seedy? No, not at all. Nay, I felt the 'clear keen joyance' of the lark that loves, but 'ne'er knew love's sad satiety.' Hitherto, the pleasure that women had given me had always jarred upon my nerves. It was, in fact, 'a thing wherein we feel there is a hidden want.' Lust was now the overflowing of the heart and of the mind—the pleasurable harmony of all the senses.
"The world that had hitherto seemed to me so bleak, so cold, so desolate, was now a perfect paradise; the air, although the barometer had ​fallen considerably, was crisp, light, and balmy; the sun—a round, furbished, copper disc, and more like a red Indian's backside than fair Apollo's effulgent face—was shining gloriously for me; the murky fog itself, that brought on dark night at three o'clock in the afternoon, was only a hazy mist that veiled all that was ungainly, and rendered Nature fantastic, and home so snug and cosy. Such is the power of imagination.
"You laugh! Alas! Don Quixote was not the only man who took windmills for giants, or barmaids for princesses. If your sluggish-brained, thick-pated costermonger never falls into such a trance as to mistake apples for potatoes; if your grocer never turns hell into heaven, or heaven into hell—well, they are sane people who weigh everything in the well-poised scale of reason. Try and shut them up in nutshells, and you will see if they would deem themselves monarchs of the world. They, unlike Hamlet, always see things as they really are. I never did. But then, you know, my father died mad.
"Anyhow, that overpowering weariness, that loathsomeness of life, had now quite passed away. ​I was blithe, merry, happy. Teleny was my lover; I was his.
"Far from being ashamed of my crime, I felt that I should like to proclaim it to the world. For the first time in my life I understood that lovers could be so foolish as to entwine their initials together. I felt like carving his name on the bark of trees, that the birds seeing it might twitter it from morn till eventide; that the breeze might lisp it to the rustling leaves of the forest. I wished to write it on the shingle of the beach, that the ocean itself might know of my love for him, and murmur it everlastingly."
"Still I had thought that on the morrow—the intoxication passed—you would have shuddered at the thought of having a man for a lover?"
"Why? Had I committed a crime against nature when my own nature found peace and happiness thereby? If I was thus, surely it was the fault of my blood, not myself. Who had planted nettles in my garden? Not I. They had grown there unawares, from my very childhood. ​I began to feel their carnal stings long before I could understand what conclusion they imported. When I had tried to bridle my lust, was it my fault if the scale of reason was far too light to balance that of sensuality? Was I to blame if I could not argue down my raging motion? Fate, Iago-like, had clearly shewed me that if I would damn myself, I could do so in a more delicate way than drowning. I yielded to my destiny, and encompassed my joy.
"Withal, I never said with Iago,—'Virtue, a fig!' No, virtue is the sweet flavour of the peach: vice, the tiny droplet of prussic-acid—its delicious savour. Life, without either, would be sapidless."
"Still, not having, like most of us, been inured to sodomy from your school-days, I should have thought that you would have been loath to have yielded your body to another man's pleasure."
"Loath? Ask the virgin if she regrets having given up her maidenhood to the lover she dotes on, and who fully returns her love? She has lost a treasure that all the wealth of Golconda cannot ​buy again; she is no longer what the world calls a pure, spotless, immaculate lily, and not having had the serpent's guile in her, society—the lilies—will brand her with an infamous name; profligates will leer at her, the pure will turn away in scorn. Still, does the girl regret having yielded her body for love—the only thing worth living for? No. Well, no more did I. Let 'clay-cold heads and lukewarm hearts' scourge me with their wrath if they will.
"On the morrow, when we met again, all traces of fatigue had passed away. We rushed into each other's arms and smothered ourselves with kisses, for nothing is more an incentive to love than a short separation. What is it that renders married ties unbearable? The too-great intimacy, the sordid cares, the triviality of every-day life. The young bride must love indeed if she feels no disappointment when she sees her mate just awakened from a fit of tough snoring, seedy, unshaven, with braces and slippers, and hears him clear his throat and spit—for men actually spit, even if they do not indulge in other rumbling noises.
​"The husband, likewise, must love indeed, not to feel an inward sinking when a few days after the wedding he finds his bride's middle parts tightly tied up in foul and bloody rags. Why did not nature create us like birds—or rather, like midges—to live but one summer day—a long day of love?
"On the night of this next day Teleny surpassed himself at the piano; and when the ladies had finished waving their tiny handkerchiefs, and throwing flowers at him, he stole away from a host of congratulating admirers, and came to meet me in my carriage, waiting for him at the door of the theatre; then we drove away to his house. I passed that night with him, a night not of unbroken slumbers, but of inebriating bliss.
"As true notaries of the Grecian god, we poured out seven copious libations to Priapus—for seven is a mystic, cabalistic, propitious number—and in the morning we tore ourselves from each other's arms, vowing everlasting love and fidelity; but, alas! what is there immutable in the ever-changing world, except, perhaps, the sleep eternal ​in the eternal night."
"And your mother?"
"She perceived that a great change had been wrought in me. Now, far from being crabbed and waspish, like an old maid that cannot find rest anywhere, I was even-tempered and good-humoured. She, however, attributed the change to the tonics I was taking, little guessing the real nature of these tonics. Later, she thought I must have some kind of liaison or other, but she did not interfere with my private affairs; she knew that the time for sowing my wild oats had come, and she left me complete freedom of action."
"Well, you were a lucky fellow."
"Yes, but perfect happiness cannot last long. Hell gapes on the threshold of heaven, and one step plunges us from ethereal light into erebian darkness. So it has ever been with me in this chequered life of mine. A fortnight after that memorable night of unbearable anguish and of thrilling delight, I awoke in the midst of felicity to find myself in thorough wretchedness.
"One morning, as I went in to breakfast, ​I found on the table a note which the postman had brought the evening before. I never received letters at home, having hardly any correspondence, save a business one, which was always transacted at the office. The handwriting was unknown to me. It must be some tradesman, thought I, leisurely buttering my bread. At last I tore the envelope open. It was a card of two lines without any address or signature."
"And——?"
"Have you ever by accident placed your hand on a strong galvanic battery, and got through your fingers a shock that for a moment bereaves you of your very reason? If so, you can have but a faint impression of what that bit of paper produced on my nerves. I was stunned by it. Having read those few words I saw nothing more, for the room began to spin round me."
"Well, but what was there to terrify you in such a way?"
"Only these few harsh, grating words that have remained indelibly engraved on my mind.
"'If you do not give up your lover T… ​you shall branded as an enculé.'
"This horrible, infamous, anonymous threat, in all its crude harshness came so unexpectedly that it was, as the Italians express it, like a clap of thunder on a bright sunshiny day.
"Little dreaming of its contents, I had opened it carelessly in my mother's presence; but hardly had I perused it than a state of utter prostration came over me, so that I had not even strength enough to hold up that tiny bit of paper.
"My hands were trembling like aspen leaves—nay, my whole body was quivering; so thoroughly was I cowed down with fear and appalled with shame.
"All the blood fled from my cheeks, my lips were cold and clammy; an icy perspiration was on my brow; I felt myself growing pale, and I knew that my cheeks must have been of an ashen, livid hue.
"Nevertheless, I tried to master my emotion. I lifted up a spoonful of coffee to my mouth; but, ere it had reached my lips, I gagged, and was ready to throw up. The pitching and ​tossing of a boat on the heaviest sea could not have brought about such a state of sinking sickness as that with which my body was then convulsed. Nor could Macbeth, upon seeing Banquo's murdered ghost, have been more terrified than I was.
"What was I to do? To be proclaimed a sodomite in the face of the world, or to give up the man who was dearer to me than my life itself? No, death was preferable to either."
"And still, you said just now that you would have liked the whole world to know your love for the pianist."
"I admit that I did, and I do not deny it; but have you ever understood the contradictions of the human heart?"
"Moreover, you did not consider sodomy a crime?"
"No; had I done society any harm by it?"
"Then why were you so terrified?"
"Once a lady on her reception day asked her little boy—a lisping child of three—where his papa was?
"'In his room,' said he.
​"'What is he doing?' quoth the imprudent mother.
"'He is making proots,' replied the urchin, innocently, in a high treble, loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room.
"Can you imagine the feelings of the mother, or those of the wife, when, a few moments afterwards, her husband came into the room? Well, the poor man told me that he almost regarded himself as a branded man, when his blushing wife told him of his child's indiscretion. Still, had he committed a crime?
"Who is the man that, at least once in his lifetime, has not felt a perfect satisfaction in breaking wind, or, as the child onomatopoetically expressed it, making a 'proot?' What was there, then, to be ashamed of; that surely was no crime against nature?
"The fact is that now-a-days we have got to be so mealy-mouthed, so over-nice, that Madame Eglantine, who 'raught full semely after her meat' would be looked upon, in spite of her stately manners, as something worse than a scullery-maid. We have become so demurely ​prim that every member of parliament will soon have to provide himself with a certificate of morality from the clergyman, or the Sabbath-school teacher, before he is allowed to take possession of his seat. At any cost, appearances must be saved; for ranting editors are jealous gods, and their wrath is implacable, for it pays well, as good people like to know what naughty folks do."
"And who was the person who had written those lines to you?"
"Who? I cudgelled my brain, and it evoked a number of spectres, all of which were as impalpable and as frightful as Milton's death; all threatened to hurl at me a deadly dart. I even fancied, for an instant, that it was Teleny, just to see the extent of my love for him."
"It was the Countess, was it not?"
"I thought so, too. Teleny was not a man to be loved by halves, and a woman madly in love is capable of everything. Still, it seemed hardly probable that a lady would use such a weapon; and moreover, she was away. No, it was not, it could not be, the Countess. But who was it? ​Everybody and nobody.
"For a few days I was tortured so incessantly that at times I felt as if I were growing mad. My nervousness increased to such a pitch that I was actually afraid to leave the house for fear of meeting the writer of that loathsome note.
"Like Cain, it seemed as if I carried my crime written upon my brow. I saw a sneer upon the face of every man that looked at me. A finger was for ever pointing at me; a voice, loud enough for all to hear, was whispering, 'The sodomite!'
"Going to my office, I heard a man walking behind me. I went on quickly; he hastened his step. I almost began to run. All at once a hand was laid on my shoulder. I was about to faint with terror. At that moment I almost expected to hear the awful words,—'In the name of the law I arrest you, sodomite!'
"The creaking of a door made me shiver; the sight of a letter appalled me.
"Was I conscience-stricken? No, it was simply fear—abject fear, not remorse. Moreover, is not a sodomite liable to be condemned to perpetual imprisonment?
​"You must think me a coward, but after all even the bravest man can only face an open foe. The thought that the occult hand of an unknown enemy is always uplifted against you, and ready to deal you a mortal blow, is unbearable. To-day you are a man of a spotless reputation; to-morrow, a single word uttered against you in the street by a hired ruffian, a paragraph in a ranting paper by one of the modern bravi of the press, and your fair name is blasted for evermore."
"And your mother?"
"Her attention had been drawn elsewhere when I opened my letter. She only remarked my paleness a few moments afterwards. I therefore told her that I was not feeling well, and seeing me retching she believed me; in fact, she was afraid I had caught some illness."
"And Teleny—what did he say?"
"I did not go to him that day, I only sent him word that I would see him on the morrow.
"What a night I passed! First I kept up as long as I could, for I dreaded going to bed. At last, weary and worn out, I undressed and laid down; but my bed seemed electrified, for all my ​nerves began to twitch, and a feeling of creepiness came over me.
"I felt distracted. I tossed about for some time; then, frightened lest I should grow mad, I got up, went stealthily to the dining-room and got a bottle of cognac, and returned to my bedchamber. I drank down about half a tumbler, and then went again to bed.
"Unaccustomed to such strong drinks I went off to sleep; but was it sleep?
"I awoke in the middle of the night, dreaming that Catherine, our maid, had accused me of having murdered her, and that I was about to be tried.
"I got up, poured myself another glass of spirits, and again found oblivion if not rest.
"On the morrow I again sent word to Teleny that I could not see him, although I longed to do so; but the day after that, seeing that I did not come to him as usual, he called upon me.
"Surprised at the physical and moral change which had come over me, he began to think that some mutual friend had been slandering him, so to reassure him, I—after much pressing and many ​questions—took out that loathsome letter which I as much dreaded to touch as if it had been a viper, and gave it to him.
"Although more than myself inured to such matters, his brow grew cloudy and thoughtful, and he even went pale. Still, after pondering over over it for a moment, he began to examine the paper on which those horrible words were written; then he lifted up both card and envelope to his nose, and smelt them both. A merry expression came all at once over his face. 'I have it—I have it—you need not be afraid! They smell of attar of roses,' cried he; 'I know who it is.'
"'Who?'
"'Why! can't you guess?'
"'The Countess?'
"Teleny frowned.
"'How is it you know about her?'
"I told him all. When I had finished, he clasped me in his arms and kissed me again and again.
"'I tried in every way to forget you, Camille, you see if I succeeded. The Countess is now ​miles away and we shall not see each other again.'
"As he said these words my eyes fell on a very fine yellow diamond ring—a moonstone—which he wore on his little finger.
"'That is a woman's ring,' said I, 'she gave it you?'
"He made no answer.
"'Will you wear this one in its stead?'
"The ring I gave him was an antique cameo of exquisite workmanship, surrounded with brilliants, but its chief merit was that it represented the head of Antinöus.
"'But,' said he, 'this is a priceless jewel;' and he looked at it closer. Then taking my head between his hands, and covering my face with kisses,—'Priceless indeed to me, for it looks like you.'
"I burst out laughing.
"'Why do you laugh?' said he, astonished.
"'Because,' was my reply, 'the features are quite yours.'
"'Perhaps then,' quoth he, 'we are alike in looks as well as in tastes. Who knows—you are, ​perhaps, my doppel-gänger? Then, woe to one of us!'
"'Why?'
"'In our country they say that a man must never meet his alter ego, it brings misfortune to one or to both;' and he shivered as he said this. Then, with a smile, 'I am superstitious, you know.'
"'Anyhow,' added I, 'should any misfortune part us, let this ring, like that of the virgin queen, be your messenger. Send it to me and I swear that nothing shall keep me away from you.'
"The ring was on his finger and he was in my arms. Our pledge was sealed with a kiss.
"He then began to whisper words of love in a low, sweet, hushed, and cadenced tone that seemed like a distant echo of sounds heard in a half-remembered ecstatic dream. They mounted up to my brain like the bubbles of some effervescent, intoxicating love-philtre. I can even now hear them ringing in my ear. Nay, as I remember them again, I feel a shiver of sensuality creep all over my body, and that insatiable desire he always excited in me kindles my blood.
"He was sitting by my side, as close to me ​as I am now to you; his shoulder was leaning on my shoulder, exactly as yours is.
"First he passed his hand on mine, but so gently that I could hardly feel it; then slowly his fingers began to lock themselves within mine, just like this; for he seemed to delight in taking possession of me inch by inch.
"After that, one of his arms encircled my waist, then he put the other round my neck, and the tips of his fingers twiddled and fondled my throat, thrilling me with delight.
"As he did so, our cheeks slightly grazed each other; and that touch—perhaps because it was so imperceptible—vibrated through all my body, giving all the nerves around the reins a not unpleasant twinge. Our mouths were now in close contact, and still he did not kiss me; his lips were simply tantalizing mine, as if to make me more keenly conscious of our nature's affinity.
"The nervous state in which I had been these last days rendered me ever so much the more excitable. I therefore longed to feel that pleasure which cools the blood and calms the brain, but he seemed disposed to prolong my eagerness, and to ​make me reach that pitch of inebriating sensuality that verges upon madness.
"At last, when neither of us could bear our excitement any longer, we tore off our clothes, and then naked we rolled, the one on the other, like two snakes, trying to feel as much of each other as we could. To me it seemed that all the pores of my skin were tiny mouths that pouted out to kiss him.
"'Clasp me—grip me—hug me!—tighter—tighter still!—that I may enjoy your body!'
"My rod, as tough as a piece of iron, slipped between his legs; and, feeling itself tweaked, began to water, and a few tiny, viscid drops oozed out.
"Seeing the way in which I was tortured, he at last took pity upon me. He bent down his head upon my phallus, and began to kiss it.
"I, however, did not wish to taste this delightful pleasure by halves, or to enjoy this thrilling rapture alone. We therefore shifted our position, and in a twinkling I had in my mouth the thing at which he was tweaking so delightfully.
​"Soon that acrid milk, like the sap of the fig tree or the euphorbia, which seems to flow from the brain and the marrow, spouted out, and in its stead a jet of caustic fire was coursing through every vein and artery, and all my nerves were vibrating as if set in motion by some strong electric current.
"Finally, when the very last drop of spermatic fluid had been sucked out, then the paroxysm of pleasure which is the delirium of sensuality began to abate, and I was left crushed and annihilated; then a pleasant state of torpor followed, and my eyes closed for a few seconds in happy oblivion.
"Having recovered my senses, my eyes again fell on the repulsive, anonymous note; and I shuddered and nestled myself against Teleny as if for protection, so loathsome was truth, even then, to me.
"'But you have not told me yet who wrote those horrible words.'
"'Who? Why, the general's son, of course.'
"'What! Briancourt?'
​"'Who else can it be. No one except him can have an inkling of our love; Briancourt, I am sure, has been watching us. Besides, look here,' added he, picking up the bit of paper, 'not wanting to write on paper with his crest or initials, and probably not having any other, he has written on a card deftly cut out of a piece of drawing paper. Who else but a painter could have done such a thing? By taking too many precautions, we sometimes compromise ourselves. Moreover, smell it. He is so saturated with attar of roses that everything he touches is impregnated with it.'
"'Yes, you are right,' said I, musingly.
"'Over and above all this, it is just a thing for him to do, not that he is bad at heart——'
"'You love him!' said I, with a pang of jealousy, grasping his arm.
"'No, I do not; but I am simply just towards him; besides you have known him from his childhood, and you must admit that he is not so bad, is he?'
"'No, he is simply mad.'
​"'Mad? Well, perhaps a little more so than other men,' said my friend, smiling.
"'What! you think all men crazy?'
"'I only know one sane man—my shoemaker. He is only mad once a week—on Monday, when he gets jolly drunk.'
"'Well, don't let us talk of madness any more. My father died mad, and I suppose that, sooner or later——'
"'You must know,' said Teleny, interrupting me, 'that Briancourt has been in love with you for a long time.'
"'With me?'
"'Yes, but he thinks you dislike him.'
"'I never was remarkably fond of him.'
"'Now that I think it over, I believe that he would like to have us both together, so that we might form a kind of trinity of love and bliss.'
"'And you think he tried to bring it about in that way.'
"'In love and in war, every stratagem is good; and perhaps with him, as with the Jesuits, "the end justifies the means." Anyhow, forget this note completely, let it be like a mid-winter ​night's dream.'
"Then, taking the obnoxious bit of paper, he placed it on the glowing embers; first it writhed and crackled, then a sudden flame burst forth and consumed it. An instant afterwards, it was nothing but a little, black, crumpled thing, on which tiny, fiery snakes were hastily chasing and then swallowing each other as they met.
"Then came a puff from the crackling logs, and it mounted and disappeared up the chimney like a little black devil.
"Naked as we were on the low couch in front of the fireplace, we clasped and hugged each other fondly.
"'It seemed to threaten us before it disappeared, did it not? I hope Briancourt will never come between us.'
"'We'll defy him,' said my friend, smiling; and taking hold of my phallus and of his own, he brandled them both. 'This,' said he, 'is the most efficient exorcism in Italy against the evil eye. Moreover he has doubtless forgotten both you and me by this time—nay, even the very idea of having written this note.'
​"'Why?'
"'Because he has found out a new lover.'
"'Who, the Spahi officer?'
"'No, a young Arab. Anyhow we'll know who it is by the subject of the picture he is going to paint. Some time ago he was only dreaming of a pendant to the three Graces, which to him represented the mystic trinity of tribadism.'
"A few days afterwards we met Briancourt in the green room of the Opera. When he saw us, he looked away and tried to shun us. I would have done the same.
"'No,' said Teleny, 'let us go and speak to him and have matters out. In such things never shew the slightest fear. If you face the enemy boldly, you have already half vanquished him.' Then, going up to him and dragging me with him,—'Well,' said he, stretching out his hand, 'what has become of you? It is some days since we have seen each other.'
"'Of course,' replied he, 'new friends make us forget old ones.'
"'Like new pictures old ones. By the bye, ​what sketch have you begun?'
"'Oh, something glorious!—a picture that will make a mark, if any does.'
"'But what is it?'
"'Jesus Christ.'
"'Jesus Christ?'
"'Yes, since I knew Achmet, I have been able to understand the Saviour. You would love Him, too,' added he, 'if you could see those dark, mesmeric eyes, with their long and jetty fringe.'
"'Love whom," said Teleny, 'Achmet or Christ?'
"'Christ, of course!' quoth Briancourt, shrugging his shoulders. 'You would be able to fathom the influence He must have had over the crowd. My Syrian need not speak to you, he lifts his eyes upon you and you grasp the meaning of his thoughts. Christ, likewise, never wasted His breath spouting cant to the multitude. He wrote on the sand, and could thereby "look the world to law." As I was saying, I shall paint Achmet as the Saviour, and you,' added he to Teleny, 'as John, the disciple He loved; for the Bible clearly says and continually repeats that He ​loved this favourite disciple.'
"'And how will you paint Him?'
"'Christ erect, clasping John, who hugs Him, and who leans his head on his friend's bosom. Of course there must be something lovably soft and womanly in the disciple's look and attitude; he must have your visionary violet eyes and your voluptuous mouth. Crouched at their feet there will be one of the many adulterous Marys, but Christ and the other—as John modestly terms himself, as if he were his Master's mistress—look down at her with a dreamy, half-scornful, half-pitiful expression.'
"'And will the people understand your meaning?'
"'Anybody who has any sense will. Besides, to render my idea clearer, I'll paint a pendant to it: "Socrates—the Greek Christ, with Alcibiades, his favourite disciple." The woman will be Xantippe.' Then turning to me, he added, 'But you must promise to come and sit for Alcibiades.'
"'Yes,' said Teleny, 'but on one condition.'
"'Name it.'
​"'Why did you write Camille that note?'
"'What note?'
"'Come—no gammon!'
"'How did you know I wrote it?'
"'Like Zadig, I saw the traces of the dog's ears.'
"'Well, as you know it's me, I'll tell you frankly, it was because I was jealous.'
"'Of whom?'
"'Of you both. Yes, you may smile, but it's true.'
"Then turning towards me,—'I've known you since we both were but little more than toddling babies, and I've never had that from you,'—and he cracked his thumb-nail on his upper teeth—'whilst he,' pointing to Teleny, 'comes, sees, and conquers. Anyhow, it'll be for some future time. Meanwhile, I bear you no grudge; nor do you for that stupid threat of mine, I'm sure.'
"'You don't know what miserable days and sleepless nights you made me pass.'
"'Did I? I'm sorry; forgive me. You know I'm mad—everyone says so,' he exclaimed, ​grasping both our hands; 'and now that we are friends you must come to my next symposium.'
"'When is it to be?' asked Teleny.
"'On Tuesday week.'
"Then turning to me,—'I'll introduce you to a lot of pleasant fellows who'll be delighted to make your acquaintance, and many of whom have long been astonished that you are not one of us.'
"The week passed quickly. Joy soon made me forget the dreadful anxiety caused by Briancourt's card.
"A few days before the night fixed for the feast,—'How shall we dress for the symposium?' asked Teleny?
"'How? Is it to be a masquerade?'
"'We all have our little hobbies. Some men like soldiers, others sailors; some are fond of tightrope dancers, others of dandies. There are men who, though in love with their own sex, only care for them in women's clothes. L'habit ne fait pas le moine is not always a truthful proverb, for you see that even in birds the males display their gayest plumage to captivate their mates.'
"'And what clothes should you like me to ​wear, for you are the only being I care to please?' said I.
"'None.'
"'Oh! but——'
"'You'll feel shy, to be seen naked?'
"'Of course.'
"'Well, then, a tight-fitting cycling suit; it shews off the figure best.'
"'Very well; and you?'
"'I'll always dress exactly as you do.'
"On the evening in question we drove to the painter's studio, the outside of which was, if not quite dark, at least very dimly lighted. Teleny tapped three times, and after a little while Briancourt himself came to open.
"Whatever faults the general's son had, his manners were those of the French nobility, therefore perfect; his stately gait might even have graced the court of the grand Monarque; his politeness was unrivalled—in fact, he possessed all those 'small, sweet courtesies of life,' which, as Sterne says, 'beget inclinations to love at first sight.' He was about to usher us in, when Teleny stopped him.
​"'Wait a moment,' said he, 'could not Camille have a peep at your harem first? You know he is but a neophyte in the Priapean creed. I am his first lover.'
"'Yes, I know,' interrupted Briancourt, sighing, 'and I cannot say sincerely, may you long be the last.'
"'And not being inured to the sight of such revelry he will be induced to run away like Joseph from Mrs. Potiphar.'
"'Very well, do you mind giving yourself the trouble to come this way?'
"And with these words he led us through a dimly-lighted passage, and up a winding staircase into a kind of balcony made out of old Arab mouchambiè, brought to him by his father from Tunis or Algiers.
"'From here you can see everything without being seen, so ta-ta for a while, but not for long, as supper will soon be served.'
"As I stepped in this kind of loggia and looked down into the room, I was, for a moment, if not dazzled, at least perfectly bewildered. It seemed as if from this every-day world of ours ​I had been transported into the magic realms of fairy-land. A thousand lamps of varied form filled the room with a strong yet hazy light. There were wax tapers upheld by Japanese cranes, or glowing in massive bronze or silver candlesticks, the plunder of Spanish altars; star-shaped or octagonal lamps from Moorish mosques or Eastern synagogues; curiously-wrought iron cressets of tortured and fantastic designs; chandeliers of murous, iridiscent glass work reflected in Dutch gilt, or Castel-Durante majolica sconces.
"Though the room was very large, the walls were all covered with pictures of the most lascivious nature; for the general's son, who was very rich, painted mostly for his own delight. Many were only half-finished sketches, for his ardent yet fickle imagination could not dwell long on the same subject, nor could his talent for invention be long satisfied with the same way of painting.
"In some of his imitations of the libidinous Pompeian encaustics he had tried to fathom the secrets of a bygone art. Some pictures were executed with the minute care and the corrosive ​paints of Leonardo da Vinci; whilst others looked more like Greuze's pastels, or wrought in Watteau's delicate hues. Some flesh tints had the golden haze of the Venetian school, whilst——"
"Please finish this digression on Briancourt's paintings, and tell me something of the more realistic scene."
"Well, on faded old damask couches, on huge pillows made out of priests' stoles, worked by devout fingers in silver and in gold, on soft Persian and Syrian divans, on lion and panther rugs, on mattresses covered over with electric cats' skins, men, young and good-looking, almost all naked, were lounging there by twos and threes, grouped in attitudes of the most consummate lewdness such as the imagination can never picture to itself, and such as are only seen in the brothels of men in lecherous Spain, or in those of the wanton East."
"It must indeed have been a rare sight, seen from the cage in which you were cooped; and I suppose your cocks were crowing so lustily that the naked fellows below must have been in great danger of receiving a shower of your holy water, ​for you must have brandled each other's sprinklers rapturously up there."
"The frame was well worth the picture, for, as I was saying before, the studio was a museum of lewd art worthy of Sodom or of Babylon. Paintings, statues, bronzes, plaster casts—either masterpieces of Paphian art or of Priapean designs, emerged from amidst deep-tinted silks of velvety softness, amidst sparkling crystals, gem-like enamel, golden china or opaline majolica, varied with yataghans and Turkish sabres, with hilts and scabbards of gold and silver filigree mark, all studded with coral and turquoise, or other more sparkling precious stones.
"From huge Chinese bowls rose costly ferns, dainty Indian palms, creeping plants and parasites, with wicked-looking flowers from American forests, and feathery grasses from the Nile in Sèvres vases; whilst from above, ever and anon, a shower of full-blown red and pink roses came pouring down, mingling their intoxicating scent with that of the attar which ascended in white cloudlets from censers and silver chafing-dishes.
"The perfume of that over-heated ​atmosphere, the sound of smothered sighs, the groans of pleasure, the smack of eager kisses expressing the never-satiated lust of youth, made my brain reel, whilst my blood was parched by the sight of those ever-changing lascivious attitudes, expressing the most maddening paroxysm of debauchery, which tried to soothe itself or to invent a more thrilling and intenser sensuality, or sickening and fainting away under their excess of feeling, whilst milky sperm and ruby drops of blood dappled their naked thighs."
"It must have been a rapturous sight."
"Yes, but just then it seemed to me as if I were in some rank jungle, where everything that is beautiful brings about instant death; where gorgeous, venomous snakes cluster together and look like bunches of variegated flowers, where sweet blossoms are ever dropping wells of fiery poison.
"Here, likewise, everything pleased the eye and galled the blood; here the silvery streaks on the dark-green satin, and there the argentine tracery on the smooth, prasinous leaves of the water-lilies were only the slimy trail—here of ​man's creative power, there of some loathsome reptile.
"'But look there,' said I to Teleny; 'there are also women.'
"'No,' replied he, 'women are never admitted to our revels.'
"'But look at that couple there. See that naked man with his hand under the skirts of the girl clasped against him.'
"'Both are men.'
"'What! also that one with the reddish-auburn hair and brilliant complexion? Why, is it not Viscount de Pontgrimaud's mistress?'
"'Yes, the Venus d'Ille, as she is generally called; and the Viscount is down there in a corner, but the Venus d'Ille is a man!'
"I stared astonished. What I had taken for a woman looked, indeed, like a beautiful bronze figure, as smooth and polished as a Japanese cast à cire perdue, with an enamelled Parisian cocotte's head.
"Whatever the sex of this strange being was, he or she had on a tight-fitting dress of a changing colour—gold in the light, dark green ​in the shade—silk gloves and stockings of the same tint as the satin of the dress, fitting so tightly on the rounded arms and most beautifully-shaped legs that these limbs looked as even and as hard as those of a bronze statue.
"'And that other one there, with black ringlets, accroche-cœurs, in a dark blue velvet tea-gown, with bare arms and shoulders, is that lovely woman a man, too?'
"'Yes, he is an Italian and a Marquis, as you can see by the crest on his fan. He belongs, moreover, to one of the oldest families of Rome. But look there. Briancourt has been repeatedly making signs to us to go down. Let us go.'
"'No, no!' said I, clinging to Teleny; 'let us rather go away.'
"Still, that sight had so heated my blood that, like Lot's wife, I stood there, gloating upon it.
"'I'll do whatever you like, but I think that if we go away now you'll be sorry for it afterwards. Besides, what do you fear? Am I not with you? No one can part us. We shall remain all the evening together, for here it is not the same ​as in the usual balls, where men bring their wives in order that they may be clasped and hugged by the first comer who likes to waltz with them. Moreover, the sight of all those excesses will only give a zest to our own pleasure.'
"'Well, let us go,' said I, rising; 'but stop. That man in a pearly-grey Eastern robe must be the Syrian; he has lovely almond-shaped eyes.'
"'Yes, that is Achmet effendi.'
"'Whom is he talking with? Is it not Briancourt's father?'
"'Yes, the general is sometimes a passive guest at his son's little parties. Come, shall we go?'
"'One moment more. Do tell me who is that man with eyes on fire? He seems, indeed, lust incarnate, and is evidently past-master in lewdness. His face is familiar, and still I cannot remember where I have seen him.'
"'He is a young man who having spent his fortune in the most unbridled debauchery without any damage to his constitution, has enlisted in the Spahis to see what new pleasures Algiers could afford him. That man is indeed a volcano. But here is Briancourt.'
​"'Well,' said he, 'are you going to stay up here in the dark all the evening?'
"'Camille is abashed,' said Teleny, smiling.
"'Then come in masked,' said the painter, dragging us down, and giving us each a black velvet half-mask before ushering us in.
"The announcement that supper was waiting in the next room had almost brought the revel to a stand-still.
"As we entered the studio, the sight of our dark suits and masks seemed to throw a dampness on everyone. We were, however, soon surrounded by a number of young men who came to welcome and to fondle us, some of whom were old acquaintances.
"After a few questions Teleny was known, and his mask was at once snatched off; but no one for a long, time could make out who I was. I, in the meanwhile, kept ogling the middle parts of the naked men around me, the thick and curly hair of which sometimes covered the stomach and the thighs. Nay, that unusual sight excited me in such a way that I could hardly forbear handling those tempting organs; ​and had it not been for the love I bore Teleny, I should have done something more than finger them.
"One phallus, especially—that of the Viscount—caused my intense admiration. It was of such a size that had a Roman lady possessed it she would never have asked for an ass. In fact, every whore was frightened at it; and it was said that once, abroad, a woman had been ripped up by it, for he had thrust his tremendous instrument up into her womb, and slit the partition between the front and the back hole, so that the poor wretch had died in consequence of the wound received.
"His lover, however, throve upon it, for he was not only artificially but also naturally of a most florid complexion. As this young man saw that I seemed to doubt what sex he belonged to, he pulled up the skirts he wore and shewed me a dainty, pink-and-white penis, all surrounded by a mass of dark golden hair.
"Just when everybody was begging me to take off my mask, and I was about to comply, Dr. Charles—usually called Charlemagne—who ​had been rubbing himself against me like an over-heated cat, all at once clasped me in his arms and kissed me lustily.
"'Well, Briancourt,' said he, 'I congratulate you upon your new acquisition. Nobody's presence could have given me more pleasure than Des Grieux's.'
"Hardly had these words been uttered than a nimble hand snatched off my mask.
"Ten mouths at least were ready to kiss me, a score of hands were fondling me; but Briancourt put himself between them and me.
"'For this evening,' said he, 'Camille is like a sugar-plum on a cake, something to be looked at and not touched. Réné and he are on their honey-moon yet, and this fête is given in their honour, and in that of my new lover Achmet effendi.' And, turning round, he introduced us to the young man whom he was to pourtray as Jesus Christ. 'And now,' said he, 'let us go in to supper.'
"The room, or hall, into which we were led was furnished something like a triclinium, with beds or couches instead of chairs.
​"'My friends,' said the general's son, 'the supper is a scanty one, the courses are neither many nor abundant, the meal is rather to invigorate than to satiate. I hope, however, that the generous wines and stimulating drinks will enable us all to return to our pleasures with renewed eagerness.'"
"Still, I suppose it was a supper worthy of Lucullus?"
"I hardly remember it now. I only recollect that it was the first time I tasted bouillabaisse, and some sweet spiced rice made after the Indian receipt, and that I found both delicious.
"I had Teleny on my couch beside me, and Dr. Charles was my next neighbour. He was a fine, tall, well-built, broad-shouldered man, with a fair-flowing beard, for which—as well as for his name and size—he had been nicknamed Charlemagne. I was surprised to see him wear round his neck a fine Venetian gold chain, to which was hanging—as I first thought—a locket, but which, on closer examination, proved to be a gold laurel wreath studded with brilliants. I asked him if it were a talisman or a relic?
​"He, thereupon, standing up,—'My friends, Des Grieux here—whose lover I fain would be—asks me what this jewel is; and as most of you have already put me the same question, I'll satisfy you all now, and hold my peace for evermore about it.
"'This laurel wreath,' said he, holding it up between his fingers, 'is the reward of merit—or rather, I should say, of chastity: it is my couronne de rosière. Having finished my medical studies and walked the hospitals, I found myself a doctor; but what I could never find was a single patient who would give me not twenty, but a single franc piece for all the physic I administered him. When, one day, Dr. N——n seeing my brawny arms'—and in fact he had arms like a Hercules—'recommended me to an old lady, whose name I'll not mention, for massage. In fact I went to this old dame, whose name is not Potiphar, and who, as I took off my coat and tucked up my sleeves, cast a longing glance upon my muscles and then seemed lost in meditation; afterwards I concluded that she was calculating the rule of proportions.
​"'Dr. N——n had told me that the weakness of the nerves in her lower limbs was from the knees downwards. She, however, seemed to think that it was from the knees upwards. I was ingenuously puzzled, and—not to make a mistake—I rubbed from the foot upwards; but soon I remarked that the higher I went the more softly she purred.
"'After about ten minutes,—"I am afraid I am tiring you," said I; "perhaps it is enough for the first time."
"'"Oh," replied she, with the languishing eyes of an old fish, "I could be rubbed by you the whole day. I already feel such a benefit. You have a man's hand for strength, a woman's for softness. But you must be tired, poor fellow! Now, what will you take—Madeira, or dry sherry?"
""Nothing, thank you."
"'"A glass of champagne and a biscuit?"
"'"No, thanks."
"'"You must take something. Oh, I know!—a tiny glass of Alkermes from the Certosa of Florence. Yes, I think I'll sip one with you ​myself. I already feel so much better for the rubbing." And thereupon she pressed my hand tenderly. "Will you have the kindness to ring?"
"'I did so. We both sipped a glass of Alkermes, which a servant-man brought in soon afterwards, and then I took my leave. She, however, only allowed me to go, after full assurance that I'd not fail to call the following day.'
"'On the morrow I was there at the appointed hour. She first made me sit down by the bedside, to rest awhile. She pressed my hand and tenderly patted it—that hand, she said, which had done her so much good, and which was to operate marvellous cures ere long. "Only, doctor," added she, simpering, "the pain has gone higher up."
"'I could hardly keep from smiling, and I began to ask myself of what nature this pain was.
"'I set myself to rub. From the broad ankle my hand went up to the knee, then higher, and always higher, to her evident satisfaction. When at last it had reached the top of her ​legs,—"There, there, doctor! you have hit it," she said, in a soft, purring voice; "how clever you are to find the right spot. Rub gently all round there. Yes, like that; neither higher up nor lower down—a little more broadwise, perhaps—just a leetle more in the middle, doctor! Oh, what good it does me to be rubbed like that! I feel quite another person; ever so much younger—quite frisky, in fact. Rub, doctor, rub!" And she rolled in the bed rapturously, after the fashion of an old tabby.
"'Then, all at once,—"But I think you are mesmerizing me, doctor! Oh, what fine blue eyes you have! I can see myself in your luminous pupils as in a mirror." Thereupon, putting an arm round my neck, she began to pull me down on her, and to kiss me eagerly—or I ought rather to say, to suck me with two thick lips that felt against mine like huge horse-leeches.
"'Seeing that I could not go on with my massage, and getting to understand at last what kind of friction she required, I pushed aside the tufts of coarse, crisp, and thick hair, I introduced the tip of my finger between the bulgy lips, and ​tickled, rubbed, and chafed the full-sized and frisky clitoris in such a way that I soon made it piss copiously: that, however—far from soothing and satisfying her—only titillated and excited her; so that after this there was no escaping from her clutches. She was, moreover, holding me by the right sort of handle, and I could not afford—like Joseph—to run away and leave it in her hand.
"'To calm her, therefore, nothing else was left to me but to get on top of her and administer another kind of massage, which I did with as good a grace as I could, although, as you are all aware, I never cared for women, and above all, for stale ones. Still—for a woman and an old one—she was not so bad, after all. Her lips were thick, fleshy, and bulgy; the sphincter had not got relaxed with age, the erectile tissue had lost none of its muscular strength, her grip was powerful, and the pleasure she gave was not to be despised. I therefore poured two libations into her before I got from over her, during which time she from purring began to mew, and then actually to shriek like a screech-owl, so great was the pleasure she was deriving.
​"'Whether true or not, she said that she had never felt such pleasure all her life. Anyhow, the cure I effected was a wonderful one, for she shortly afterwards quite recovered the use of her legs. Even N——n was proud of me. It is to her and to my arms that I owe my position as a masseur.'
"'Well, and that jewel?' said I.
"'Yes, I was quite forgetting it. The summer came, so she had to leave town and go to a watering-place, where I had no wish to follow her; she consequently made me swear that I'd not have a single woman during her absence. I, of course, did so with an easy conscience and a light heart.
"'When she came back, she made me take my oath again, after which she unbuttoned my trousers, dragged out Sir Priapus, and in due form crowned him as a Rosière.
"'I may say, however, that he was not at all stiff-necked and uppish; nay, he seemed so overcome—perhaps he thought he did not deserve this honour—that he bowed down his head quite meekly. I used to wear that jewel on my chain, ​but everyone kept asking me what it was. I told her of it, and she presented me with this chain and made me wear it round my neck.'
"The agape had come to an end, the spiced aphrodisiac dishes, the strong drinks, the merry conversation, stirred up again our sluggish lust. Little by little the position on every couch became more provoking, the jokes more obscene, the songs more lascivious; the mirth was more uproarious, the brains were all aglow, the flesh was tingling with newly-awakened desire. Almost every man was naked, every phallus was stiff and stark; it seemed quite a pandemonium of lewdness.
"One of the guests shewed us how to make a Priapean fountain, or the proper way of sipping liqueurs. He got a young Ganymede to pour a continuous thread of Chartreuse out of a long-beaked silver ewer down on Briancourt's chest. The liquid trickled down the stomach and through the tiny curls of the jet-black, rose-scented hair, all along the phallus, and into the mouth of the man kneeling in front of him. The three ​men were so handsome, the group so classic, that a photograph was taken of it by lime-light.
"'It's very pretty," said the Spahi, "but I think I can shew you something better still.'
"'And what is that?' asked Briancourt.
"'The way they eat preserved dates stuffed with pistachioes in Algiers; and as you happen to have some on the table, we can try it.'
"The old general chuckled, evidently enjoying the fun.
"The Spahi then made his bed-fellow go on all fours, with his head down and his backside up; then he slipped the dates into the hole of the anus, where he nibbled them as his friend pressed them out, after which he licked carefully all the syrup that oozed out and trickled on the buttocks.
"Everybody applauded and the two men evidently were excited, for their battering-rams were jerking up their heads, and nodding significantly.
"'Wait, don't get up yet,' said the Spahi, 'I haven't yet quite finished; let me just put the fruit of the tree of knowledge into it.' ​Thereupon he got on him, and taking his instrument in his hand, he pressed it into the hole in which the dates had been; and slippery as the gap was, it disappeared entirely after a thrust or two. The officer then did not pull it out at all, but only kept rubbing himself against the other man's buttocks. Meanwhile the cock of the sodomized man was so restless that it commenced beating a tattoo against its owner's stomach.
"'Now for the passive pleasures that are left for age and experience,' said the general. And he began to teaze the glans with his tongue, to suck it, and to twiddle the column with his fingers in the deftest way.
"The delight expressed by the sodomized man seemed indescribable. He panted, he shivered, his eyelids drooped, his lips were languid, the nerves of his face twitched; he seemed, every moment, ready to faint with too much feeling. Still he appeared to be resisting the paroxysm with might and main, knowing that the Spahi had acquired abroad the art of remaining in action for any length of time. Every now and then his head fell as if all his strength was gone, but then he lifted it up again, ​and—opening his lips—'Someone—in my mouth,' said he.
"The Italian Marquis, who had doffed his gown, and who had nothing on but a diamond necklace and a pair of black silk stockings, got astride on two stools over the old general, and went to satisfy him.
"At the sight of this tableau vivant of hellish concupiscence, all our blood rose bubbling to our heads. Everyone seemed eager to enjoy what those four men were feeling. Every unhooded phallus was not only full of blood, but as stiff as a rod of iron, and painful in its erection. Everyone was writhing as if tormented by an inward convulsion. I myself, not inured to such sights, was groaning with pleasure, maddened by Teleny's exciting kisses, and by the doctor, who was pressing his lips on the soles of my feet.
"Finally, by the lusty thrusts the Spahi was now giving, by the eager way the general was sucking and the Marquis was being sucked, we understood that the last moment had come. It was like an electric shock amongst us all.
"'They enjoy, they enjoy!' was the cry, ​uttered from every lip.
"All the couples were cleaving together, kissing each other, rubbing their naked bodies the one against the other, trying what new excess their lechery could devise.
"When at last the Spahi pulled his limp organ out of his friend's posterior, the sodomized man fell senseless on the couch, all covered with perspiration, date syrup, sperm, and spittle.
"'Ah!' said the Spahi, quietly lighting a cigarette, 'what pleasures can be compared with those of the Cities of the Plain? The Arabs are right. They are our masters in this art; for there, if every man is not passive in his manhood, he is always so in early youth and in old age, when he cannot be active any longer. They—unlike ourselves—know by long practice how to prolong this pleasure for an everlasting time. Their instruments are not huge, but they swell out to goodly proportions. They are skilled in enhancing their own pleasure by the satisfaction they afford to others. They do not flood you with watery sperm, they squirt on you a few thick drops that burn you like fire. How smooth and glossy their ​skin is! What a lava is bubbling in their veins! They are not men, they are lions; and they roar to lusty purpose.'
"'You must have tried a good many, I suppose?'
"'Scores of them; I enlisted for that, and I must say I did enjoy myself. Why, Viscount, your implement would only tickle me agreeably, if you could only keep it stiff long enough.'
"Then pointing to a broad flask that stood on the table,—'Why, that bottle there could, I think, be easily thrust in me, and only give me pleasure.'
"'Will you try?' said many voices.
"'Why not?'
"'No, you had better not,' quoth Dr. Charles, who had crept by my side.
"'Why, what is there to be afraid of?'
"'It is a crime against nature,' said the physician smiling.
"'In fact, it would be worse than buggery, it would be bottlery,' quoth Briancourt.
"For all answer the Spahi threw himself face upwards on the ledge of the couch, with ​his bum uplifted towards us. Then two men went and sat on either side, so that he might rest his legs on their shoulders, after which he took hold of his buttocks, which were as voluminous as those of a fat old harlot's, and opened them with his two hands. As he did so, we not only had a full view of the dark parting line, of the brown halo and the hair, but also of the thousand wrinkles, crests—or gill-like appendages—and swellings all around the hole, and judging by them and by the excessive dilatation of the anus, and the laxity of the sphincter, we could understand that what he had said was no boast.
"'Who will have the goodness to moisten and lubricate the edges a little?'
"Many seemed anxious to give themselves that pleasure, but it was allotted to one who had modestly introduced himself as a maître de langues, 'although with my proficiency'—he added—'I might well call myself professor in the noble art.' He was indeed a man who bore the weight of a great name, not only of old lineage—never sullied by any plebeian blood—but also famous in war, statemanship, in literature and in ​science. He went on his knees before that mass of flesh, usually called an arse, pointed his tongue like a lance-head, and darted it in the hole as far as it could go, then, flattening it out like a spatula, he began spreading the spittle all around most dexterously.
"'Now,' said he, with the pride of an artist who has just finished his work, 'my task is done.'
"Another person had taken the bottle, and had rubbed it over with the grease of a pâte de foie gras, then he began to press it in. At first it did not seem to be able to enter; but the Spahi, stretching the edges with his fingers, and the operator turning and manipulating the bottle, and pressing it slowly and steadily, it at last began to slide in.
"'Aie, aie!' said the Spahi, biting his lips; 'it is a tight fit, but it's in at last.'
"'Am I hurting you?'
"'It did pain a little, but now it's all over;' and he began to groan with pleasure.
"All the wrinkles and swellings had disappeared, and the flesh of the edges was now clasping the bottle tightly.
​"The Spahi's face expressed a mixture of acute pain and intense lechery; all the nerves of his body seemed stretched and quivering, as if under,the action of a strong battery; his eyes were half closed, and the pupils had almost disappeared, his clenched teeth were gnashed, as the bottle was, every now and then, thrust a little further in. His phallus, which had been limp and lifeless when he had felt nothing but pain, was again acquiring its full proportions; then all the veins in it began to swell, the nerves to stiffen themselves to their utmost.
"'Do you want to be kissed?' asked someone, seeing how the rod was shaking.
"'Thanks,' said he, 'I feel enough as it is.'
"'What is it like?'
"'A sharp and yet an agreeable irritation from my bum up to my brain.'
"In fact his whole body was convulsed, as the bottle went slowly in and out, ripping and almost quartering him. All at once the penis was mightily shaken, then it became turgidly rigid, the tiny lips opened themselves, a sparkling drop of colourless liquid appeared on their edges.
​"'Quicker—further in—let me feel—let me feel!'
Thereupon he began to cry, to laugh hysterically; then to neigh like a stallion at the sight of a mare. The phallus squirted out a few drops of thick, white, viscid sperm.
"'Thrust it in—thrust it in!' he groaned, with a dying voice.
"The hand of the manipulator was convulsed. He gave the bottle a strong shake.
"We were all breathless with excitement, seeing the intense pleasure the Spahi was feeling, when all at once, amidst the perfect silence that followed each of the soldier's groans, a slight shivering sound was heard, which was at once succeeded by a loud scream of pain and terror from the prostrate man, of horror from the other. The bottle had broken; the handle and part of it came out, cutting all the edges that pressed against it, the other part remained engulfed within the anus.