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Juana
by Honore de Balzac
Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley）
DEDICATION
To Madame la Comtesse Merlin。
JUANA
（THE MARANAS）
CHAPTER I
EXPOSITION
Notwithstanding the discipline which Marechal Suchet had introduced
into his army corps； he was unable to prevent a short period of
trouble and disorder at the taking of Tarragona。 According to certain
fair…minded military men； this intoxication of victory bore a striking
resemblance to pillage； though the marechal promptly suppressed it。
Order being re…established； each regiment quartered in its respective
lines； and the commandant of the city appointed； military
administration began。 The place assumed a mongrel aspect。 Though all
things were organized on a French system； the Spaniards were left free
to follow 〃in petto〃 their national tastes。
This period of pillage （it is difficult to determine how long it
lasted） had； like all other sublunary effects； a cause； not so
difficult to discover。 In the marechal's army was a regiment； composed
almost entirely of Italians and commanded by a certain Colonel Eugene；
a man of remarkable bravery； a second Murat； who； having entered the
military service too late； obtained neither a Grand Duchy of Berg nor
a Kingdom of Naples； nor balls at the Pizzo。 But if he won no crown he
had ample opportunity to obtain wounds； and it was not surprising that
he met with several。 His regiment was composed of the scattered
fragments of the Italian legion。 This legion was to Italy what the
colonial battalions are to France。 Its permanent cantonments；
established on the island of Elba； served as an honorable place of
exile for the troublesome sons of good families and for those great
men who have just missed greatness； whom society brands with a hot
iron and designates by the term 〃mauvais sujets〃； men who are for the
most part misunderstood； whose existence may become either noble
through the smile of a woman lifting them out of their rut； or
shocking at the close of an orgy under the influence of some damnable
reflection dropped by a drunken comrade。
Napoleon had incorporated these vigorous beings in the sixth of the
line； hoping to metamorphose them finally into generals；barring
those whom the bullets might take off。 But the emperor's calculation
was scarcely fulfilled； except in the matter of the bullets。 This
regiment； often decimated but always the same in character； acquired a
great reputation for valor in the field and for wickedness in private
life。 At the siege of Tarragona it lost its celebrated hero； Bianchi；
the man who； during the campaign； had wagered that he would eat the
heart of a Spanish sentinel； and did eat it。 Though Bianchi was the
prince of the devils incarnate to whom the regiment owed its dual
reputation； he had； nevertheless； that sort of chivalrous honor which
excuses； in the army； the worst excesses。 In a word； he would have
been； at an earlier period； an admirable pirate。 A few days before his
death he distinguished himself by a daring action which the marechal
wished to reward。 Bianchi refused rank； pension； and additional
decoration； asking； for sole recompense； the favor of being the first
to mount the breach at the assault on Tarragona。 The marechal granted
the request and then forgot his promise； but Bianchi forced him to
remember Bianchi。 The enraged hero was the first to plant our flag on
the wall； where he was shot by a monk。
This historical digression was necessary； in order to explain how it
was that the 6th of the line was the regiment to enter Tarragona； and
why the disorder and confusion； natural enough in a city taken by
storm； degenerated for a time into a slight pillage。
This regiment possessed two officers； not at all remarkable among
these men of iron； who played； nevertheless； in the history we shall
now relate； a somewhat important part。
The first； a captain in the quartermaster's department； an officer
half civil； half military； was considered； in soldier phrase； to be
fighting his own battle。 He pretended bravery； boasted loudly of
belonging to the 6th of the line； twirled his moustache with the air
of a man who was ready to demolish everything； but his brother
officers did not esteem him。 The fortune he possessed made him
cautious。 He was nicknamed； for two reasons； 〃captain of crows。〃 In
the first place； he could smell powder a league off； and took wing at
the sound of a musket； secondly； the nickname was based on an innocent
military pun； which his position in the regiment warranted。 Captain
Montefiore； of the illustrious Montefiore family of Milan （though the
laws of the Kingdom of Italy forbade him to bear his title in the
French service） was one of the handsomest men in the army。 This beauty
may have been among the secret causes of his prudence on fighting
days。 A wound which might have injured his nose； cleft his forehead；
or scarred his cheek； would have destroyed one of the most beautiful
Italian faces which a woman ever dreamed of in all its delicate
proportions。 This face； not unlike the type which Girodet has given to
the dying young Turk； in the 〃Revolt at Cairo；〃 was instinct with that
melancholy by which all women are more or less duped。
The Marquis de Montefiore possessed an entailed property； but his
income was mortgaged for a number of years to pay off the costs of
certain Italian escapades which are inconceivable in Paris。 He had
ruined himself in supporting a theatre at Milan in order to force upon
a public a very inferior prima donna； whom he was said to love madly。
A fine future was therefore before him； and he did not care to risk it
for the paltry distinction of a bit of red ribbon。 He was not a brave
man； but he was certainly a philosopher； and he had precedents； if we
may use so parliamentary an expression。 Did not Philip the Second
register a vow after the battle of Saint Quentin that never again
would he put himself under fire？ And did not the Duke of Alba
encourage him in thinking that the worst trade in the world was the
involuntary exchange of a crown for a bullet？ Hence； Montefiore was
Philippiste in his capacity of rich marquis and handsome man； and in
other respects also he was quite as profound a politician as Philip
the Second himself。 He consoled himself for his nickname； and for the
disesteem of the regiment by thinking that his comrades were
blackguards； whose opinion would never be of any consequence to him if
by chance they survived the present war； which seemed to be one of
extermination。 He relied on his face to win him promotion； he saw
himself made colonel by feminine influence and a carefully managed
transition from captain of equipment to orderly officer； and from
orderly officer to aide…de…camp on the staff of some easy…going
marshal。 By that time； he reflected； he should come into his property
of a hundred thousand scudi a year； some journal would speak of him as
〃the brave Montefiore；〃 he would marry a girl of rank； and no one
would dare to dispute his courage or verify his wounds。
Captain Montefiore had one friend in the person of the quartermaster；
a Provencal； born in the neighborhood of Nice； whose name was Diard。
A friend； whether at the galleys or in the garret of an artist；
consoles for many troubles。 Now Montefiore and Diard were two
philosophers； who consoled each other for their present lives by the
study of vice； as artists soothe the immediate disappointment of their
hopes by the expectation of future fame。 Both regarded the war in its
results； not its action； they simply considered those who died for
glory fools。 Chance had made soldiers of them； whereas their natural
proclivities would have seated them at the green table of a congress。
Nature had poured Montefiore into the mould of a Rizzio； and Diard
into that of a diplomatist。 Both were endowed with that nervous；
feverish； half…feminine organization； which is equally strong for good
or evil； and from which may emanate； according to the impulse of these
singular temperaments； a crime or a generous action； a noble deed or a
base one。 The fate of such natures depends at any moment on the
pressure； more or less powerful； produced on their nervous systems by
violent and transitory passions。
Diard was considered a good accountant； but no soldier would have
trusted him with his purse or his will； possibly because of the
antipathy felt by all real soldiers against the bureaucrats。 The
quartermaster was not without courage and a certain juvenile
generosity； sentiments which many men give up as they grow older； by
dint of reasoning or calculating。 Variable as the beauty of a fair
woman； Diard was a great boaster and a great talker； talking of
everything。 He said he was artistic； and he made prizes （like two
celebrated generals） of works of art； solely； he declared； to preserve
them for posterity。 His mili