Endnotes

1. A play on the words “Sceaux” (buckets) and “Sots” (fools). —⁠Translator’s Note ↩

2. Désabusé⁠—Dissillusioned. Des abusés⁠—Amongst the deluded. —⁠Translator’s note ↩

3. Oh, you have direful secrets, cruel waves!
   You whisper them when clouds of tempest frown
   And wives and mothers weep unhallowed graves
   Yours are the mournful voices that we hear
   When towards the shore by night our steps draw near

   “Oceano Nox,” Victor Hugo, Selected Poems, vol. 3, p. 327

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4. Literally, “The bird flies”⁠—a pun on the verb voler, which means both “to fly” and “to steal.” ↩

5. Nickname for Napolean III. ↩

6. Passenger boats which ply on the Seine. ↩

7. I well remember that infernal joy
   Of being ravaged while I ravished her,
   And there she lay beside me, breathless, hot,
   A creature wan and cloyed, with grinding teeth
   No heavenly moments⁠—rather fits from hell

   “Cup and the Lip,” Alfred de Musset, Complete Writings, vol. 1, p. 253

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8. When you and I in bed shall lie,
   Lascivious we shall be,
   Enlaced, playing a thousand tricks,
   Of lovers, gamesomely.

   The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 3, p. 358

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9. Caresses are merely restless transports,
   The vain efforts of poor Love to attempt
   The impossible union of souls through the body.

   The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 10, p. 287

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10. Oh! the taste of the kisses first snatched through the veil.

    The Complete Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 15, p. 205

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11. Sleep you content, Voltaire, and does your hideous smile
    Flit o’er your fleshless skull in mockery the while?

    “Rolla,” Alfred de Musset, Complete Writings, vol. 2, p. 21

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12. I well remember that infernal joy
    Of being ravaged while I ravished her,
    And there she lay beside me, breathless, hot,
    A creature wan and cloyed, with grinding teeth
    No heavenly moments⁠—rather fits from hell

    “Cup and the Lip,” Alfred de Musset, Complete Writings, vol. 1, p. 253

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13. I was looking in the air.

    The Complete Writings of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 4, p. 29

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14. I hate the poet who with tearful eye
    Murmurs some name while gazing tow’rds a star,
    Who sees no magic in the earth or sky
    Unless Lizette or Ninon be not far.

    The bard who in all Nature nothing sees
    Divine, unless a petticoat he ties
    Amorously to the branches of the trees
    Or nightcap to the grass, is scarcely wise

    He has not heard the eternal’s thunder tone
    The voice of Nature in her various moods,
    Who cannot tread the dim ravines alone,
    And of no woman dream ’mid whispering woods.

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 8, p. 278

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15. When we are young, our mornings are triumphant.

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 1, p. 182

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16. Who comes? who calls?⁠—No, all is well:
    ’Twas but the tolling midnight bell.
    O solitude! O poverty!

    “La nuit de mai,” Alfred de Musset, Complete Writings, vol. 2, p. 308

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17. Caresses are merely restless transports,
    The vain efforts of poor Love to attempt
    The impossible union of souls through the body.

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 10, p. 287

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18. Tell me in what far-off land
    The Roman beauty, Flora, lives;
    Hipparchia, Thais’ cousin, and
    All the beauty nature gives;
    Echo speak, thy voice awake
    Over river, stream, and lake,
    Where are beauty’s smiles and tears?
    And where are the snows of other years?

    Blanche, as fair as lily’s chalice,
    Swinging sweet, with voice serene,
    Bertha Broadfoot, Beatrice, Alice,
    Emengarde, Le Mayne’s dear queen?
    Where is Joan, the good Lorraine,
    Whom th’ English brought to death and fame?
    Where are all, O wisest seers,
    And where the snows of other years?

    The Complete Writings of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 16, p. 196

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19. I hate the poet who with tearful eye
    Murmurs some name while gazing tow’rds a star,
    Who sees no magic in the earth or sky
    Unless Lizette or Ninon be not far.

    The bard who in all Nature nothing sees
    Divine, unless a petticoat he ties
    Amorously to the branches of the trees
    Or nightcap to the grass, is scarcely wise

    He has not heard the eternal’s thunder tone
    The voice of Nature in her various moods,
    Who cannot tread the dim ravines alone,
    And of no woman dream ’mid whispering woods.

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 8, p. 278

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20. A woman changeth oft her mind:
    Yet fools still trust in womankind.

    The Complete Writings of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 7, p. 100

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21. You only were, in those rarest days
    A common instrument under my art;
    Like the bow, on the viol d’amour it plays
    I dreamed my dream o’er your empty heart.

    The Complete Writings of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 17, p. 217

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22. You are thin, my beloved, but what of that?
    One is nearer the heart when the breast is flat,
    Like a bird in its little cage, I see
    Love fluttering in your heart for me!

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 10, p. 390

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23. I’m sorry for the Lord, the Lord of Albion
    Whose praises are being sung in the salon,
    If the Lord’s ears are tender in the least,
    And he loves talent and beauty, He’s having a feast.
    If He likes good music and wit and art
    I pity the good Lord with all my heart.

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 10, p. 392⁠–⁠393

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24. Nothing is sacred to a pastor,
    Not even the dinner, or slumber, or
    Ears of the poor traveler.
    But do not let it happen again,
    Or without delay I’ll take the first train.

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 10, p. 393

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25. Ruth a Moabite,
    Crouched at the feet of Boaz, with bare breast,
    Hoping that some unknown ray of light
    Would, at his awakening, reward her quest.

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 10, p. 397

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26. Even when the bird walks one feels that it has wings,

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 3, p. 200

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27. Oh! how nice, how nice it is,
    To pick the sweet, wild strawberries.

    The Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 2, p. 73

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28. The princess, in a hurry
    Without bell, priest, or beadle,
    But with some water only,
    Had baptized it.

    The Complete Works of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 15, p. 193

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29. Two millions, two millions
    Are fine,
    With five hundred thousand
    And woman divine.

    The Complete Writings of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 16, p. 228

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30. Always the companion of whose heart you are not sure.

    The Complete Writings of Guy de Maupassant, vol. 15, p. 216

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31. Waterspout. ↩

32. In eyes as of a painting that entrances.

    “Love of Lies,” Poems of Baudelaire, p. 133

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33. An Arab dish. ↩

34. Like blue letter-cards but used as telegrams, they are sent through special tubes. ↩