"Madam," said he, "do you know the author of this little composition?""Yes," replied I, with an air of as great simplicity as I could assume, "it is written by a person of the same name as yourself, who writes books and composes operas. Is he any relation to you?"My answer and question disarmed the suspicions of Jean Jacques, who was about to reply, but stopped himself, as if afraid of uttering a falsehood, and contented himself with smiling and casting down his eyes. Taking courage from his silence, I ventured to add,--"The M. de Rousseau who composed this pretty air has written much beautiful music and many very clever works. Should Iever know the happiness of becoming a mother I shall owe to him the proper care and education of my child." Rousseau made no reply, but he turned his eyes towards me, and at this moment the expression of his countenance was perfectly celestial, and I could readily imagine how easily he might have inspired a warmer sentiment than that of admiration.
Whilst we were conversing in this manner, a female, between the age of forty and fifty, entered the room. She saluted me with great affectation of politeness, and then, without speaking to Rousseau, went and seated herself familiarly upon a chair on the other side of the table: this was Therese, a sort of factotum, who served the master of these apartments both as servant and mistress. I could not help regarding this woman with a feeling of disgust; she had a horrible cough, which she told us was more than usually troublesome on that day. I had heard of her avarice;therefore to prevent the appearance of having called upon an unprofitable errand, I inquired of Jean Jacques Rousseau how much the music would cost.
"Six sous a page, madam," replied he, "is the usual price.""Shall I, sir," asked I, "leave you any cash in hand for the purchase of what paper you will require?""No, I thank you, madam," replied Rousseau, smiling; "thank God! I am not yet so far reduced that I cannot purchase it for you. I have a trifling annuity--""And you would be a much richer man," screamed Therese, "if you would insist upon those people at the opera paying you what they owe you." These words were accompanied with a shrug of the shoulders, intended to convey a vast idea of her own opinion.
Rousseau made no reply; indeed he appeared to me like a frightened child in the presence of its nurse; and I could quickly see, that from the moment of her entering the room he had become restless and dejected, he fidgeted on his seat, and seemed like a person in excessive pain. At length he rose, and requesting my pardon for absenting himself, he added, "My wife will have the honour to entertain you whilst I am away." With these words he opened a small glass-door, and disappeared in the neighbouring room.
When we were alone with Therese, she lost no time in opening the conversation.
"Madam," cried she, "I trust you will have the goodness to excuse M. Rousseau; he is very unwell; it is really extremely vexatious."I replied that M. Rousseau had made his own excuses. Just then Therese, wishing to give herself the appearance of great utility, cried out,"Am I wanted there, M. Rousseau?""No, no, no," replied Jean Jacques, in a faint voice, which died away as if at a distance.
He soon after re-entered the room.
"Madam," said he, "have the kindness to place your music in other hands to copy; I am truly concerned that I cannot execute your wishes, but I feel too ill to set about it directly."I replied, that I was in no hurry; that I should be in Paris some time yet, and that he might copy it at his leisure. It was then settled that it should be ready within a week from that time;upon which I rose, and ceremoniously saluting Therese, was conducted to the door by M. Rousseau, whose politeness led him to escort me thither, holding his cap in his hand. I retired, filled with admiration, respect, and pity.
When next I saw the duc d'Aiguillon, I could not refrain from relating to him all that had happened. My recital inspired him with the most lively curiosity to see Rousseau, whom he had never met in society. It was then agreed, that when I went to fetch my music he should accompany me, disguised in a similar manner to myself, and that I should pass him off as my uncle. At the end of the eight days I repaired early as before to Paris;the duke was not long in joining me there. He was so inimitably well disguised, that no person would ever have detected the most elegant nobleman of the court of France beneath the garb of a plain country squire. We set out laughing. like simpletons at the easy air with which he wore his new costume; nevertheless our gaiety disappeared as we reached the habitation of J. J.
Rousseau. Spite of ourselves we were compelled to honour and respect the man of talent and genius, who preferred independence of ideas to riches, and before whom rank and power were compelled to lay aside their unmeaning trappings ere they could reach his presence. When we reached the fifth landing-place I rang, and this time the door was opened by Therese, who told us M Rousseau was out.
