In conversation with this young woman I enjoyed no exchange of wit or sentiment, no perspicacity of intellect, no piquant sallies and discussions. On the other hand, her way of meeting me was always frank and open; she showed much decency and neatness in her poverty; told anecdotes with comic grace; mimicked her comrades, the actresses, with spirit; evinced a real repugnance for immodesty; betrayed the ingenuousness of her nature by a hundred little traits. What above all attracted me towards her was that she could not tell a lie without showing by involuntary blushes how much the effort cost her. Time taught me that I ought to mistrust her apparent ingenuousness. The artless sallies with which she turned old friends and benefactors into ridicule made me reflect that she might come to treat me in like manner. Her blushes, when she told a fib, did not spring from a dislike of lying, but from anger with herself for not being able to distort the truth more cleverly. Yet self-love is a weakness so ingrained in human frailty, that men are always ready to believe that they will fare better than their neighbours, because they think they have deserved better, or fancy themselves preferred by the woman on whose very faults they put an{191} indulgent interpretation. This was my case with the Ricci.
I was never able to induce her to sacrifice even a few hours a day to reading good books or exercising her mind by writing. Arguments, entreaties, reproaches were all thrown away. She excused herself by pleading her domestic duties; and though I was ever anxious to spend our time together in useful studies, as I had done with other actresses, I could not bring her to do more than con the parts she had to play upon the stage. Probably she thought that her native pluck and talent were sufficient to sustain her without troubling her brains by serious work. The duties which she always pleaded consisted in sitting at her toilet-table before the eternal looking-glass, arranging laces, changing ribands, altering the folds of veils, matching colours, and such-like frivolities. All these things are useful with a view to stage effect; but exclusive devotion to them distracts the mind from the higher exigencies of dramatic art, leads an actress to court applause by illegitimate means, and brings her in course of time to mere posing and peacocking upon the boards before the eyes of voluptuaries in the boxes. The Ricci was only too prone to such faults; and besides, her purse could not stand the expenses of her toilette.
When I ventured to express my fears upon these points, she betrayed her real way of thinking by replies to the following effect: "If we do not earn{192} more than our fixed wages, how on earth are we poor actresses to hold out in a profession like ours?" I did not conceal my abhorrence of the principles implied in such remarks; and she professed that she had only spoken in jest. At the same time, her behaviour was so good, she ruled her house with such economy, paid her debts so regularly, and conducted herself with such propriety, that I hoped, by good advice and by getting her salary increased, to save her from the evil influences of a misdirected early training. Vain illusion to flatter oneself that one can ever cure an actress of the faults instilled in her from childhood! I was perhaps blinded by the partiality I felt for her; and no man, face to face with a woman, can trust the clearness of his insight. Six years of continual assiduity, friendship, benefits, were not worth one straw against the poison she had imbibed. The woman who, with a sound education, might have become a person of true culture and a real friend, gave herself up to flattery and her own perverted inclinations; so that in the end she brought upon me troubles which the world has judged of serious importance and public gravity.[44]
XLIX.
I publicly avow my friendship for Mme. Ricci.—Efforts made to secure her advancement.—I become godfather to her child, and indulge in foolish hopes about her future.
Before entering into those open and formal ties of friendship which in Italy carry something of the nature of an obligation, I thought it right to warn Signora Ricci with regard to certain matters.[45] I pointed out that she was a member of a company renowned for its good character, and that she had already been exposed to calumny by her detractors. This ought to make her circumspect in repelling the advances of men of pleasure who might compromise her reputation. For myself, I meant to be her avowed friend, her daily visitor, and cavalier in{194} public; but she must not think that I wanted to play the part of a lover, far less of a flatterer. My age, which bordered upon fifty, and my temperament were enough to prevent me from making any foolish pretensions to her favours. Should she find herself in need, through the failure of her monthly salary to meet expenses, she might count upon my purse. If, in spite of my good counsels, she increased her reputation for light conduct, I should be obliged to break with her at once and for ever. On the other hand, if my principles were distasteful to her, she had only to speak the word, and I would leave her absolutely at liberty. So long as I supported her in public and championed her honour as a woman and her fame as an artist, I had the right to expect conduct from her conformable to my avowed philosophy of life.
To these Quixotical discourses she replied by saying that all honest folk congratulated her upon acquiring my favour. They urged her to do all in her power to strengthen our alliance, and to avoid everything which could make me leave her. Nay, more: her spiritual director, in the course of confession, had exhorted her to remain by me, a man whom he regarded as a marvel of our century. This I thought a little exaggerated; it smacked of the stage.
The Ricci's husband was a good sort of fellow, who had been a bookseller, and had acquired a kind{195} of literary fanaticism in that business.[46] All day and night he scribbled volumes, which were sure, he said, to be the source of vast profit to himself and his heirs. Absorbed in these barren studies, he abandoned the household to his wife, philosophically making no claims on her attention. Shoes in holes and muddy stockings never troubled him. But meanwhile his health was being ruined. He grew as lean as a corpse and spat blood from the lungs, while bending over his beloved desk. His wife vainly scolded him, predicting that he was sure to fall into a consumption, which might infect his family. He pitied her gross ignorance, and continued to immolate himself upon the altar of learning. How this ill-assorted couple ever came together I cannot imagine. They appeared, however, to like each other, and lived on fairly good terms.
An income of 500 ducats was wholly insufficient for man and wife and child, with an expected confinement, and the expenses of a theatrical wardrobe{196} to be met. I represented the case to Sacchi, who agreed to add a sum of 130 ducats annually, remarking, however, that each year Teodora would be sure to clamour for a further rise in wages. He was right. In proportion as she grew more necessary to the company, she augmented her threats of leaving it and her demands for better appointments.