Why were you so smart just now? It makes me dreadfully anxious, especially in conjunction with your early morning walks to the Arsenal. Toto ... Toto ... you do not know what I am capable of; take care! I do not love you for nothing. If you deceived me the least bit in the world I should kill you. But no, seriously, I am jealous when I see you so fascinating. I do not feel as reassured as you would wish me to be. In fact, I insist upon attending these rehearsals. I do not choose to confide my dear lover to the discretion of nobody knows who. I wish to keep my lover to myself, in the face of the nation and of all French actresses.
That is my politic and literary resolve: I shall put it into execution, from to-morrow.
By the way, this is my birthday. You did not even know it—or, rather, I dare say you do not care whether I was ever born or not. Is it true that you do not mind one little bit? That is all the importance you attach to my love! And yet one thing is very certain: that I was created and put into the world solely to love you, and God knows with what ardour I fulfil my mission.
I love you—ah, yes, indeed, I love you—I love my Victor!
Juliette.
Saturday, 8 p.m. (1835).
I am more than ever resolved to separate our lives one from the other. What you say about Mlle. Mars’s increasing age and the impossibility of obtaining a double success through her, literary as well as financial, and about the necessity of securing the services of Madame Dorval or some equally handsome and celebrated actress, makes me determined to sever our connection as speedily as possible, no matter where I may have to go, or under what pecuniary conditions. Your words to-night prove that you have had private intelligence about Mlle. Mars, Madame Dorval, and the theatre generally, that you have concealed from me, although it must completely revolutionise the plans made by you for the first play you were to give at this theatre. The secrecy you have maintained on the subject, contrary to all your promises to conceal nothing from me, grieves me more than the treachery of Monsieur Harel and Mlle. George, more even than the wicked animosity of your enemies and the perfidy of your intimate friends against myself. This silence is proof positive that I am a hindrance to your interests; you dread my ambition and my jealousy; you had already seen the propriety of giving a part to Madame Dorval, but you did not dare tell me so, for fear of encountering resistance and tears from me at this new distribution. You have only partially averted these. I will not attempt to thwart you, on the contrary; as for my tears, they are not worth wiping away, nor even restraining.[64] From this very night we cease our communion of dramatic interests. I go back to the position I ought never to have left: that of a hack actress, who is given any part, and badly paid at that. You resume your liberty without any impediment.
Let us hope this new resolution will conduce to our greater happiness.
Juliette.
Tuesday, April 28th, 1835.
Four hours before the production of “Angélo.”