The Confession of a Child of the Century — Volume 2

This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
CONFESSION OF A CHILD OF THE CENTURY (Confession d'un Enfant du Siecle)
By ALFRED DE MUSSET
My father lived in the country some distance from Paris. When I arrived I found a physician in the house, who said to me:
You are too late; your father expressed a desire to see you before he died.
I entered, and saw my father dead. Sir, I said to the physician, please have everyone retire that I may be alone here; my father had something to say to me, and he will say it.
In obedience to my order the servants left the room. I approached the bed and raised the shroud which covered the face. But when my eyes fell on that countenance, I stooped to kiss it and lost consciousness.
When I recovered, I heard some one say:
If he requests it, you must refuse him on some pretext or other.
I understood that they wanted to get me away from the bed of death, and so I feigned that I had heard nothing. When they saw that I was resting quietly, they left me. I waited until the house was quiet, and then took a candle and made my way to my father's room. I found there a young priest seated near the bed.
Sir, I said, to dispute with an orphan the last vigil at a father's side is a bold enterprise. I do not know what your orders may be. You may remain in the adjoining room; if anything happens, I alone am responsible.
He retired. A single candle on the table shone on the bed. I sat down in the chair the priest had just left, and again uncovered those features I was to see for the last time.