An Honest Ideal Page #2

"An Honest Ideal" by Guy de Maupassant is a thought-provoking novella that explores the complexities of human relationships, morality, and the pursuit of personal ideals. The narrative centers around characters who grapple with their desires and societal expectations, ultimately revealing the often harsh realities of life that challenge their convictions. Maupassant’s masterful storytelling delves into themes of honesty, integrity, and the conflict between personal aspirations and the world around them, offering readers a poignant reflection on what it means to live a truly principled life.

• Short story

								

attracting her attention.

When she had been acting and the theater had been empty for a long time,
and she left it, wrapped in valuable furs and got into the carriage of
her banker, which was waiting for her at the stage door, he always stood
there, often up to his ankles in snow, or in the pouring rain.

At first she did not notice him, but when her maid said something to her
in a whisper on one occasion, she looked round in surprise, and he got a
look from those large eyes, which were not dead then, but dark and
bright; a look which recompensed him for all his sufferings and filled
him with proud hopes, which constantly gained more power over the young
Idealist, who was usually so modest.

At last there was a thorough, silent understanding between the
theatrical princess and the dumb adorer. When she put her foot on the
carriage step, she looked round at him, and every time he stood there,
devouring her with his eyes; she saw it and got contentedly into her
carriage, but she did not see how he ran after the carriage, and how he
reached her house, panting for breath, when she did, nor how he lay down
outside after the door had closed behind her.

One stormy summer night, when the wind was howling in the chimneys, and
the rain was beating against the windows and on the pavement, the poor
student was again lying on the stone steps outside her house, when the
front door was opened very cautiously and quietly; for it was not the
banker who was leaving the house, but a wealthy young officer whom the
girl was letting out; he kissed the pretty little Cerebus as he put a
gold coin into her hand, and then accidentally trod on the Idealist, who
was lying outside.

They all three simultaneously uttered a cry; the girl blew out the
candle, the officer instinctively half drew his sword, and the student
ran away.

Ever since that night, the poor, crazy fellow went about with a dagger,
which he concealed in his belt, and it was his constant companion to the
theater, and the stage door, when the actress's carriage used to wait
for her, and to her house, where he nightly kept his painful watch.

His first idea was to kill his fortunate rival, then himself, then the
theatrical princess, but at last, he lay down again outside her door, or
stood on the pavement and watched the shadows, that flitted hither and
thither on her window, turned by the magic spell of the lovely actress.

And then, the most incredible thing happened, something which he could
never have hoped for, and which he scarcely believed when it did occur.

One evening, when she had been playing a very important part, she kept
the carriage waiting much longer than usual; but at last she appeared,
and got into it; she did not shut the door, however, but beckoned to the
young Idealist to follow her.

He was almost delirious with joy, just as a moment before he had been
almost mad from despair, and obeyed her immediately, and during the
drive he lay at her feet and covered her hands with kisses. She allowed
it quietly and even merrily, and when the carriage stopped at her door,
she let him lift her out of the carriage, and went upstairs leaning on
his arm.

There, the lady's maid showed him into a luxuriously furnished
drawing-room, while the actress changed her dress.

Presently she appeared in her dressing gown, sat down carelessly in an
easy chair, and asked him to sit down beside her.

"You take a great interest in me?" she said.

"You are my ideal!" the student cried enthusiastically.

The theatrical princess smiled, and said:

"Well, I will at any rate be an honest ideal; I will not deceive you,
and you shall not be able to say that I have misused your youthful
enthusiasm. I will give myself to you...."

"Oh! Heavens!" the poor Idealist exclaimed, throwing himself at her
feet.

"Wait a moment! Wait a moment!" she said with a smile. "I have not
finished yet. I can only love a man who is in a position to provide me
with all those luxuries which an actress, or, if you like, which I
cannot do without. As far as I know, you are poor, but I will belong to
you, only for to-night, however, and in return you must promise me not
to rave about me, or to follow me, from to-night. Will you do this?"

The wretched Idealist was kneeling before her; he was having a terrible
mental struggle.

"Will you promise me to do this?" she said again.

"Yes," he said, almost groaning.

The next morning a man, who had buried his Ideal, tottered downstairs.
He was pale enough; almost as pale as a corpse; but in spite of this, he
is still alive, and if he has any Ideal at all at present, it is
certainly not a theatrical princess.
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