Les Misérables, v. 4/5: The Idyll and the Epic

  CHAPTER V.

  THE ROSE PERCEIVES THAT SHE IS AN IMPLEMENT OF WAR.

  One day Cosette happened to look at herself in the glass, and said,"Good gracious!" She fancied that she was almost pretty, and this threwher into a singular trouble. Up to this moment she had not thought ofher face, and though she saw herself in the mirror she did not look atherself. And, then, she had often been told that she was ugly; JeanValjean alone would say gently, "Oh, no, oh, no!" However this mightbe, Cosette had always believed herself ugly, and had grown up in thisidea with the facile resignation of childhood. And now all at once herlooking-glass said to her, as Jean Valjean had done, "Oh, no!" Shedid not sleep that night. "Suppose I were pretty," she thought, "howdroll it would be if I were pretty!" and she remembered those of hercompanions whose beauty produced an effect in the convent, and said toherself, "What! I might be like Mademoiselle So-and-so!"

  On the next day she looked at herself, but not accidentally, anddoubted. "Where was my sense?" she said; "No, I am ugly." She hadsimply slept badly, her eyes were heavy and her cheeks pale. She hadnot felt very joyous on the previous day when she fancied herselfpretty; but was sad at no longer believing it. She did not look atherself again, and for upwards of a fortnight tried to dress her hairwith her back to the glass. In the evening, after dinner, she usuallyworked at her embroidery in the drawing-room, while Jean Valjean readby her side. Once she raised her eyes from her work, and was greatlysurprised by the anxious way in which her father was gazing at her.Another time she was walking along the street, and fancied she heardsome one behind her, whom she did not see, say, "A pretty woman,but badly dressed." "Nonsense," she thought, "it is not I, for I amwell-dressed and ugly." At that time she wore her plush bonnet andmerino dress. One day, at last, she was in the garden, and heard poorold Toussaint saying, "Master, do you notice how pretty our young ladyis growing?" Cosette did not hear her father's answer, for Toussaint'swords produced a sort of commotion in her. She ran out of the gardenup to her room, looked in the glass, which she had not done for threemonths, and uttered a cry,--she dazzled herself.

  She was beautiful and pretty, and could not refrain from being of thesame opinion as Toussaint and her glass. Her figure was formed, herskin had grown white, her hair was glossy, and an unknown splendorwas kindled in her blue eyes. The consciousness of her beauty came toher fully in a minute, like the sudden dawn of day; others, besides,noticed her, Toussaint said so; it was evidently to her that thepasser-by alluded, and doubt was no longer possible. She returned tothe garden, believing herself a queen, hearing the birds sing, thoughit was winter, seeing the golden sky, the sun amid the trees, flowerson the shrubs; she was wild, distraught, and in a state of ineffableravishment. On his side, Jean Valjean experienced a profound andinexplicable contraction of the heart; for some time past, in truth,he had contemplated with terror the beauty which daily appeared moreradiant in Cosette's sweet face. It was a laughing dawn for all, butmost mournful for him.

  Cosette had been for a long time beautiful ere she perceived the fact,but, from the first day, this unexpected light which slowly rose andgradually enveloped the girl's entire person hurt Jean Valjean's sombreeyes. He felt that it was a change in a happy life, so happy that hedid not dare stir in it, for fear of deranging it somewhere. This man,who had passed through every possible distress, who was still bleedingfrom the wounds dealt him by his destiny, who had been almost wicked,and had become almost a saint, who, after dragging the galley chain,was now dragging the invisible but weighty chain of indefinite infamy;this man whom the law had not liberated, and who might at any momentbe recaptured and taken from the obscurity of virtue to the broaddaylight of further opprobrium,--this man accepted everything, excusedeverything, pardoned everything, blessed everything, wished everythingwell, and only asked one thing of Providence, of men, of the laws,of society, of nature, of the world,--that Cosette should love him,that Cosette might continue to love him; that God would not preventthe heart of this child turning to him and remaining with him! Lovedby Cosette he felt cured, at rest, appeased, overwhelmed, rewarded,and crowned. With Cosette's love all was well, and he asked no more.Had any one said to him, "Would you like to be better off?" he wouldhave answered, "No." Had God said to him, "Do you wish for heaven?"he would have answered, "I should lose by it." All that could affectthis situation, even on the surface, appeared to him the beginning ofsomething else. He had never known thoroughly what a woman's beautywas, but he understood instinctively that it was terrible. This beauty,which continually expanded more triumphantly and superbly by his sideupon the ingenuous and formidable brow of the child, from the depths ofhis ugliness, old age, misery, reprobation, and despondency, terrifiedhim, and he said to himself, "How beautiful she is! what will becomeof me?" Here lay the difference between his tenderness and that of amother,--what he saw with agony a mother would have seen with joy.

  The first symptoms speedily manifested themselves. From the daywhen Cosette said to herself, "I am decidedly good-looking," shepaid attention to her toilet. She remembered the remark of thepasser-by,--pretty, but badly dressed,--a blast of the oracle whichpassed by her and died out, after depositing in her heart one of thosetwo germs which are destined at a later period to occupy a woman'sentire life,--coquettishness. The other is love. With faith in herbeauty, all her feminine soul was expanded within her; she had a horrorof merinos, and felt ashamed of plush. Her father never refused heranything, and she knew at once the whole science of the hat, the dress,the mantle, the slipper, and the sleeve, of the fabric that suits, andthe color that is becoming,--the science which makes the Parisian womansomething so charming, profound, and dangerous. The expression "femmecapiteuse" was invented for the Parisian. In less than a month littleCosette was in this Thebaïs of the Rue de Babylone, not only one ofthe prettiest women, which is something, but one of the best dressedin Paris, which is a great deal more. She would have liked to meet her"passer-by," to see what he would say, and teach him a lesson. Thefact is, that she was in every respect ravishing, and could admirablydistinguish a bonnet of Gerard's from one of Herbaut's. Jean Valjeanregarded these ravages with anxiety, and while feeling that he couldnever do more than crawl or walk at the most, he could see Cosette'swings growing. However, by the simple inspection of Cosette's toilet, awoman would have seen that she had no mother. Certain small proprietiesand social conventionalisms were not observed by Cosette; a mother,for instance, would have told her that an unmarried girl does not wearbrocade.

  The first day that Cosette went out in her dress and cloak of blackbrocade, and her white crape bonnet, she took Jean Valjean's arm, gay,radiant, blushing, proud, and striking. "Father," she said, "how do youthink I look?" Jean Valjean replied, in a voice which resembled thebitter voice of an envious person, "Charming." During the walk he wasas usual, but when he returned home he asked Cosette,--

  "Will you not put on that dress and bonnet, you know which, again?"

  This took place in Cosette's room; she returned to the wardrobe inwhich her boarding-school dress was hanging.

  "That disguise?" she said, "how can you expect it, father? Oh, no,indeed, I shall never put on those horrors again; with that thing on myhead I look like a regular dowdy."

  Jean Valjean heaved a deep sigh.

  From that moment he noticed that Cosette, who hitherto had wished tostay at home, saying, "Father, I amuse myself much better here withyou," now constantly asked to go out. In truth, what good is it fora girl to have a pretty face and a delicious toilet if she does notshow them? He also noticed that Cosette no longer had the same likingfor the back-yard, and at present preferred remaining in the garden,where she walked, without displeasure, near the railings. Jean Valjeannever set foot in the garden, but remained in the back-yard, likethe dog. Cosette, knowing herself to be beautiful, lost the grace ofbeing ignorant of the fact, an exquisite grace, for beauty heightenedby simplicity is ineffable, and nothing is so adorable as a beauteousinnocent maiden who walks along unconsciously, holding in her hand thekey of
a Paradise. Rut what she lost in ingenuous grace she regained ina pensive and serious charm. Her whole person, impregnated with thejoys of youth, innocence, and beauty, exhaled a splendid melancholy. Itwas at this period that Marius saw her again at the Luxembourg, afteran interval of six months.