Chapter IV
Hymne à la BeautéViens-tu du ciel profond ou sors-tu de l'abîme,
O Beauté? ton regard, infernal et divin,
Verse confusément le bienfait et le crime,
Et l'on peut pour cela te comparer au vin.
Tu contiens dans ton oeil le couchant et l'aurore;
Tu répands des parfums comme un soir orageux;
Tes baisers sont un philtre et ta bouche une amphore
Qui font le héros lâche et l'enfant courageux.
Sors-tu du gouffre noir ou descends-tu des astres?
Le Destin charmé suit tes jupons comme un chien;
Tu sèmes au hasard la joie et les désastres,
Et tu gouvernes tout et ne réponds de rien.
Tu marches sur des morts, Beauté, dont tu te moques;
De tes bijoux l'Horreur n'est pas le moins charmant,
Et le Meurtre, parmi tes plus chères breloques,
Sur ton ventre orgueilleux danse amoureusement.
L'éphémère ébloui vole vers toi, chandelle,
Crépite, flambe et dit: Bénissons ce flambeau!
L'amoureux pantelant incliné sur sa belle
A l'air d'un moribond caressant son tombeau.
Que tu viennes du ciel ou de l'enfer, qu'importe,
Ô Beauté! monstre énorme, effrayant, ingénu!
Si ton oeil, ton souris, ton pied, m'ouvrent la porte
D'un Infini que j'aime et n'ai jamais connu?
De Satan ou de Dieu, qu'importe? Ange ou Sirène,
Qu'importe, si tu rends, — fée aux yeux de velours,
Rythme, parfum, lueur, ô mon unique reine! —
L'univers moins hideux et les instants moins lourds?
— Charles Baudelaire
Hymn to BeautyDo you come from Heaven or rise from the abyss,
Beauty? Your gaze, divine and infernal,
Pours out confusedly benevolence and crime,
And one may for that, compare you to wine.
You contain in your eyes the sunset and the dawn;
You scatter perfumes like a stormy night;
Your kisses are a philtre, your mouth an amphora,
Which make the hero weak and the child courageous.
Do you come from the stars or rise from the black pit?
Destiny, bewitched, follows your skirts like a dog;
You sow at random joy and disaster,
And you govern all things but answer for nothing.
You walk upon corpses which you mock, O Beauty!
Of your jewels Horror is not the least charming,
And Murder, among your dearest trinkets,
Dances amorously upon your proud belly.
The dazzled moth flies toward you, O candle!
Crepitates, flames and says: "Blessed be this flambeau!"
The panting lover bending o'er his fair one
Looks like a dying man caressing his own tomb,
Whether you come from heaven or from hell, who cares,
O Beauty! Huge, fearful, ingenuous monster!
If your regard, your smile, your foot, open for me
An Infinite I love but have not ever known?
From God or Satan, who cares? Angel or Siren,
Who cares, if you make, — fay with the velvet eyes,
Rhythm, perfume, glimmer; my one and only queen!
The world less hideous, the minutes less leaden?
Ororo merely looked up at him, silent as a tomb. He might as well do as he pleased, she thought to herself, but she would say nothing,. He could punish her if so he wanted, but Ororo was decided to not open her mouth to make excuses or explanations as if she had committed some kind of crime. That victory she wouldn't give him Remy closed the book-safe loudly and held her gaze with stone cold eyes.
-I asked you something, chère.
- I have nothing to explain.
-So be like this.- He set the book on the table and grabbed her arm. Ororo thought of resisting, but come to think of it, what was really the point? Fighting him would only make things worse so she got to her feet and followed, as calmly as she could while he dragged her back to the house. He forced her to climb up the stairs and both headed her room, Remy in quick steps, almost running, and Ororo stumbling on her dress, trying to keep up with him. She refused to just be dragged around like a rag doll; he wanted her to follow him, then she would do it with her own feet, Ororo thought stubbornly.
Finally they got there. He released her abruptly and she fell forwards, still propelled by their walks' momentum. Throwing her hands forward she prevented the hard fall onto the ground and quickly got up to her feet and faced him, with a sheer boldness that left him speechless for a moment. Any other woman would be begging him not to hurt her, sobbing or crying for help. In spite of his rage, Remy was in awe. He wondered if she would be so courageous if she knew all about him. She was determined to not let him overpower her once again, Remy could read it in her eyes. Ororo would just stand there and take whatever he could do to her bravely; he knew he could not bring himself to hurt her, but the defiant look in her eyes let him she was ready for anything. For a moment, a hint of shame made its way into his mind, but it the heat of his rage evaporated it quickly. How could she challenge him like that? Look at him that way, as if he was some kind of worthless maniac, a dangerous animal? How dared she think so little of him, when he had gone through such effort to prove he devoted her nothing but affection?
-You won't tell me anything?
-No.
-So I'll just have to go through that book and find out by myself…-He spat out, hoping to scare her.
-As you wish…sir.-The last word came soaked in venom.
-And you…-He clenched his jaw- you'll stay here, until I say otherwise. Give me the key.
Ororo calmly retrieved the key from the nightstand and handled it to him; she then, sat down and crossed her arms, provoking him further with her unnerving coolness. Feeling his blood boil, Remy turned on his heels and slammed the door shut, locking it. As he left the second floor and headed the first, to look for Etienne, he saw the valet coming his way, alarmed by all the noise:
-What's going on, Sir? Is Ororo all right?
-You! Nail that door shut!
-Which door?
-Ororo´s. Nail it shut and put some heavy piece of furniture in front of it. I don't want her to leave that damn room until I say otherwise!
-B-but…why would you…I mean…Ororo…-Etienne stuttered, confused.
-Just do as I say!
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Ororo let out a deep sigh of relief as she heard Remy´s steps moving away.
This was not over yet; Ororo knew that once Remy read those letters, she could expect the worst. He would punish her, maybe get rid of her; he could sell her to somebody, maybe send her to the cotton fields…She shook her head and dismissed the thoughts before her panic grew. For now, she had the rest of the night to think up something, and unless he killed her, she would start all over again. Mentally she counted her resources: she still had jewels left and Mattie was still out there to help her. If everything else failed, she would run away with nothing but the clothes in her back. But Remy would not hold her in that house.
If anything, his rage only straightened her resolve to leave. He might own her legally, but Ororo would show him he could never own her entirely.
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Leaving the shocked young man behind, Remy made his way back to the conservatory. He closed the door of the flowered sanctum he had built for Ororo and sat down, trying to calm his rage.
So, she kept secrets from him? She went behind his back, lied to him…He had given her a conservatory, he had humiliated himself for her forgiveness, he stayed by her side, talked to her, asked her from advice, provided her with everything she needed, from books to a piano, he was kind to her, he let her live like the mistress of the house would…She should know better than to hide things from him. She should know there was nothing he wouldn't voluntarily give her if she only asked. Had he not proved his affection for her, had he not given her enough evidence to convince her that he cherished her and her company?
He reached for the book and read the letters, one by one, eagerly, stumbling on words.
After taking in the last word of the last letter, Remy felt his rage subside, replaced by an enormous frustration. So, he thought to himself, that was what she wanted. He let his head fall back heavily as if weighted like a ball of lead, his eyes staring blankly at the dark blue velvet of the night sky above the colored glass.
She wanted to leave.
Not his affection, not his kindness, not the comfort he could provide her…All she wanted was to be free…How could he be so blind; so stupid as to not consider this? No, he did consider it. Ororo couldn't settle for a life of servitude…No person in their right mind would; that was obvious. The only reason he failed to predict that was because he didn't want to think about it. Stubbornly he refused to accept that behind the beautiful face, the graceful body and the refined manners and wit, there was a woman forced into slavery. He just decided to blissfully ignore that fact and pretend she would be satisfied with his attentions and stay submissive to him.
The truth was, he ignored all of that because he was afraid of thinking what would everything be like once she decided to leave him. Afraid to get back to the dark place he had been before her…
Remy knew he would never have the guts to stop her if she wanted to leave. If she said it with all the words, that she wanted to leave, he would let her go. He knew she was strong enough to have her way, and he was already too weakened by her captivating charms to deny her anything. So he was desperate to make her stay on her own volition, desperate to make her need his presence as much as he needed hers.
But he failed.
A weary smile curled his lips…Why would she? He was the one who needed her; the one who needed her beauty so he could believe there was a God, her kindness so there was some light in his life, her voice and music to see to give some sacrality to his profane existence; he was the one who needed her to feel like he had a soul. Ororo didn't need him…She was whole, serene, determined, free of crimes, good… All she really needed was to get away from him before he infected her and made her like him: empty, evil.
He had been foolish. Pathetically foolish to feed any hopes. But at least, now he knew he could still have hope. It was something…
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Two days…
Ororo curled up in her bed, weary, exhausted. Two days locked in that room. At first she had panicked…She cried for hours in a row, hoping, with her stubborn pride, no one could hear her sobs across the walls, then she got sick; physically ill. She could barely lift a finger, and even when Etienne brought her food she didn't feel enough energy to take a bite out of it.
Then, finally, she was resigned.
Probably that was her punishment. To stay locked until she explained herself, or went crazy, whatever came first. If that was it, then she could just sit and wait. Collecting all the scattered bits of her composure, she washed, changed into the lightest garments she had, did her hair into a simple braid and waited. Remy was probably expecting to break her into submission.
Maybe he would succeed, but he would have to wait…a long time…
On the night of the second day, however, her waiting came to an end. Much to her astonishment, she heard the loud sound of the heavy piece of furniture that secured her door being moved, and the locks being undone, one by one… the door opened slowly. Etienne emerged on the room and told her with a voice that, oddly enough, sounded cheery:
-The master wishes to see you…
She got up and followed him to the library. As they got there, the door opened letting out two men: Remy and an elderly gentleman in a black suit, holding a briefcase in his hand. She saw as they shook hands and Remy thanked him for agreeing to come over so late.
As the guest walked away, Remy made waved his hand at Etienne and the young valet walked away to escort the old man to the door, leaving Ororo and Remy alone in front of the library door. She shuddered, trying hard not to imagine what was going to happen next.
-Come in…-He said with no emotion.
She entered the library and took a seat in front of his desk as he indicated her to. He, then, closed the door and walked towards a cabinet with bizarre tranquility retrieving a black box from one of the drawers and walking back to stand in front of her on the opposite side of the desk.
-Do you recognize these?- He asked, pouring the contents of the box all over his desk and a myriad of earrings, rings, necklaces and bracelets fell loudly on the wooden surface, sparkling under the candlelight like dozens of multi-colored stars.
-Yes.
-You sold them. To get away from me…
-I did.- She continued to agree, absent mindedly.
-Was that all?
-Yes.-Ororo lied, hoping to keep one last hope.
-So, if I send Etienne to search your room, he won't find any other jewels?
She gasped. Remy merely walked out and called the valet, telling him to look for the other jewels. Within ten minutes, the blond man came back and gave him the last pieces of jewelry walking out afterwards. Ororo didn't dare looking up at neither man as they exchanged brief words, and felt her shoulders getting heavier with each minute that passed, the suspense was torturing, almost making her wish Remy would just do something, even if no matter what. She watched tensely as Remy put all the gems back in the box and closed it; then, he sat down and opened a drawer, never casting a glance her way. He laid a piece of paper in front of her and ordered her to read.
-But…this is…-Her eyes widened, as the words in the document started to make sense to her wrecked mind and wild amazement washed away her other coherent thoughts.
-Yes. You're a free woman now…That man you saw leaving is a notary, he just left with a signed copy to register in the public office.
-B-but…I don't understand…
His face darkened for a moment, then he grinned sadly, shaking his head:
-Chère…-He looked at her straight in the eye, his words coming out of his mouth in drops, as if each one scratched his throat in the way out, causing him to take little pauses in between them to avoid the pain- I would love to keep you here…with me…forever. Truth is, I…need you here… I want you to stay. But if you don't want to be here, as much as it pains me…I must set you free…I must be fair with you…
His hand disappeared into the drawer once again and he retrieved a large number of money bills, placing them on top of the black box.
- I went to Mattie and she gave me the jeweler's address. He provided me the names of the buyers and the records of his profits. I bought the jewels back and now I give you your father's gifts back, the money I found in that book and the equivalent sum of the profits the jeweler made reselling them. Everything is rightfully yours. Mattie is waiting outside with a carriage; she agreed to take you to her house while you don't find another place. Now go.
-What?! She looked at him confused, still not understanding his words, or expecting them to be some kind of morbid joke.
-You heard me. Go. I don't want you to stay here.. –He told her, making a painful effort to keep his eyes on hers.
-I…I can't take all of this money…
-Don't worry. I don't need it. Take everything. The jewels, the money, the dresses, the books and music sheets I've given you…Please take everything-His voice was slowly becoming more strangled
- I can't…I'll take the jewels back, but…-She told him sharply, regaining her usual proud attitude, her hard resolve making her refuse to take any favors from him.
-No "buts"…Take everything. Or you think I'll ever let any other woman dress those garments? Or touch those books? … I would never…take them, they are yours, everything I gave you is yours…now, please leave…and don't come back anymore.
-What?
-That's my sole condition. Don't ever come back here anymore. And if you can find in your heart to grant me one last request…Leave New Orleans. For my sake go as far away as you can and never come back…
-But…why?-She asked pathetically, too bewildered to think straight.
-Because…If I see you walking in the street someday, if I stumble upon you in the future…I'm not sure my heart won't break again…-He told her, earnestly.
-What?
-Yes…you heard it right…You, jour de ma vie (1), reminded me I have a heart…and I both hate and love you for that…You don't know yet, and I hope to God you'll never have to know, but… leaving this house today you are both saving what's left of my humanity, and your own life. So I beg of you, have mercy and leave me…leave me and never come back….
(1) "Light of my life"