An Adventure

"An Adventure" by Guy de Maupassant is a compelling short story centered around the themes of love, desire, and the complexities of human relationships. The narrative follows a young man who, during a chance encounter, becomes infatuated with a mysterious woman. Their brief yet intense connection unfolds against a backdrop of societal expectations and personal yearning. Maupassant's masterful prose captures the emotional intensity of the characters' experiences, exploring how fleeting moments can leave a lasting impact on one's life. The story ultimately reflects on the nature of love and the bittersweet essence of human encounters.

• Short story

								
"Come! Come!" Pierre Dufaille said, shrugging his shoulders. "What are
you talking about, when you say that there are no more adventures? Say
that there are no more adventurous men, and you will be right! Yes,
nobody ventures to trust to chance, in these days, for as soon as there
is any slight mystery, or a spice of danger, they draw back. If,
however, a man is willing to go into them blindly, and to run the risk
of anything that may happen, he can still meet with adventures, and even
I, who never look for them, met with one in my life, and a very
startling one; let me tell you.

"I was staying in Florence, and was living very quietly, and all I
indulged in, in the way of adventures, was to listen occasionally to the
immoral proposals with which every stranger is beset at night on the
Piazzo de la Signoria, by some worthy Pandarus or other, with a head
like that of a venerable priest. These excellent fellows generally
introduce you to their families, where debauchery is carried on in a
very simple, and almost patriarchal fashion, and where one does not run
the slightest risk.

"One day as I was admiring Benvenuto Cellini's wonderful Perseus, in
front of the Loggia del Lanzi, I suddenly felt my sleeve pulled
somewhat roughly, and on turning round, I found myself face to face with
a woman of about fifty, who said to me with a strong German accent:
'You are French, Monsieur, are you not?' 'Certainly, I am,' I replied.
'And would you like to go home with a very pretty woman?'

"'Most certainly I should,' I replied, with a laugh.

"Nothing could have been funnier than the looks and the serious air of
the procuress, or than the strangeness of the proposal, made to broad
daylight, and in very bad French, but it was even worse when she added:
'Do you know everything they do in Paris?' 'What do you mean, my good
woman?' I asked her, rather startled. 'What is done in Paris, that is
not done everywhere else?'

"However, when she explained her meaning, I replied that I certainly
could not, and as I was not quite so immodest as the lady, I blushed a
little. But not for long, for almost immediately afterwards I grew pale,
when she said: 'I want to assure myself of it, personally.' And she said
this in the same phlegmatic manner, which did not seem so funny to me
now, but, on the contrary, rather frightened me. 'What!' I said.
'Personally! You! Explain yourself!'

"If I had been rather surprised before, I was altogether astonished at
her explanation. It was indeed an adventure, and was almost like a
romance. I could scarcely believe my ears, but this is what she told me.

"She was the confidential attendant on a lady moving in high society,
who wished to be initiated into the most secret refinements of Parisian
high life, and who had done me the honor of choosing me for her
companion. But then, this preliminary test! 'By Jove!' I said to myself,
'this old German hag is not so stupid as she looks!' And I laughed in my
sleeve, as I listened inattentively to what she was saying to persuade
me.

"'My mistress is the prettiest woman you can dream of; a real beauty;
springtime! A flower!' 'You must excuse me, but if your mistress is
really like springtime and a flower, you (pray excuse me for being so
blunt) are not exactly that, and perhaps I should not exactly be in a
mood to humor you, my dear lady, in the same way that I might her.'

"She jumped back, astonished in turn: 'Why, I only want to satisfy
myself with my own eyes; not by injuring you.' And she finished her
explanation, which had been incomplete before. All she had to do was to
go with me to Mother Patata's well-known establishment, and there to
be present while I conversed with one of its fair and frail inhabitants.

"'Oh!' I said to myself, 'I was mistaken in her tastes. She is, of
course, an old, shriveled up woman, as I guessed, but she is a
specialist. This is interesting, upon my word! I never met with such a
one before!'

"Here, gentlemen, I must beg you to allow me to hide my face for a
moment. What I said was evidently not strictly correct, and I am rather
ashamed of it; my excuse must be that I was young, that Patata's was a
celebrated place, of which I had heard wonderful things said, but the
entry to which was barred me, on account of my small means. Five
napoleons was the price! Fancy! I could not treat myself to it, and so I
accepted the good lady's offer. I do not say that it was not
disagreeable, but what was I to do? And then, the old woman was a
German, and so her five napoleons were a slight return for our five
milliards, which we paid them as our war indemnity.

"Well, Patata's boarder was charming, the old woman was not too
troublesome, and your humble servant did his best to sustain the ancient
glory of Frenchmen.

"Let me drink my disgrace to the dregs! On the next day but one after, I
was waiting at the statue of Perseus. It was shameful, I confess, but I
enjoyed the partial restitution of the five milliards, and it is
surprising how a Frenchman loses his dignity, when he is traveling.

"The good lady made her appearance at the appointed time. It was quite
dark, and I followed her without a word, for, after all, I was not very
proud of the part I was playing. But if you only knew how fair that
little girl at Patata's was! As I went along, I thought only of her,
and did not pay any attention to where we were going, and I was only
roused from my reverie by hearing the old woman say: 'Here we are. Try
and be as entertaining as you were the day before yesterday.'

"We were not outside Patata's house, but in a narrow street running by
the side of a palace with high walls, and in front of us was a small
door, which the old woman opened gently.

"For a moment I felt inclined to draw back. Apparently the old hag was
also ardent on her own account! She had me in a trap! No doubt she
wanted in her turn to make use of my small talents! But, no! That was
impossible!

"'Go in! Go in!' she said. 'What are you afraid of? My mistress is so
pretty, so pretty, much prettier than the little girl of the other day.'
So it was really true, this story out of The Arabian Nights? Why not?
And after all, what was I risking? The good woman would certainly not
injure me, and so I went in, though somewhat nervously.

"Oh! My friend, what an hour I spent then! Paradise! and it would be
useless, impossible to describe it to you! Apartments fit for a
princess, and one of those princesses out of fairy tales, a fairy
herself. An exquisite German woman, exquisite as German women can be,
when they try. An Undine of Heinrich Heine's, with hair like the Virgin
Mary's, innocent blue eyes, and a skin like strawberries and cream.

"Suddenly, however, my Undine got up, and her face convulsed with fury
and pride. Then, she rushed behind some hangings, where she began to
give vent to a flood of German words, which I did not understand, while

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