The Rise and Fall of a Courtesan
The Rise and Fall of a Courtesan
I don't have an hour to live. By eleven o'clock, I'll be dead. I will die without pain. I bought a beautiful little black bean for fifty thousand francs, which contained a poison that could kill a man instantly. So, my darling, think of it this way: My little Estelle is not in pain … Yes, I only feel pain when I write this letter to you. The devil who bought me at a high price, like a drunken bear, was ecstatic and had just left. He also knew that there would be no next day when I saw myself as subordinate to him. For the first time in my life, and for the last time, I was able to compare my former career as a prostitute with my later love life, to juxtapose the warmth that bloomed in the infinite with the aversion to obligation. This disgust almost wants to disappear, until there is no trace of a kiss. With such disgust, you will feel the loveliness of death. I took a bath, and I had planned to ask the confessor of the monastery who had baptized me to confess before him in order to cleanse my soul. But doing the sacrament of death, as many times as this, may be an act of holy reading. Besides, I felt myself bathed in the waters of sincere penitence. Do with me what God will do with me. Let these lamentations be put aside, and I will be your Estelle to my last breath. Hope not for my death, not for the future, for the good God, and increase the trouble. I have suffered in this world, if to another world, God will torture me, then he is not good. In front of me is your vivid portrait, painted by Madame de Milbert. When you are not by my side, this milky white paper gives me a lot of comfort. I look at this portrait with intoxication, and write down my last thoughts to you, and describe the last beating of my heart to you. I put this picture in the envelope and send it to you, because I don't want anyone to take it away or sell it. It breaks my heart to think that the things that give me pleasure will be in a merchant's window with the ladies, the officers of the Empire, or the Chinese antiques. This picture, my treasure, you erase it, don't give it to anyone. Unless this gift can give you back the wooden slats that can walk in a dress, the heart of Clotilde de Grandlini that is full of sharp bones and that you can't stand when you sleep.. Yes, if so, I agree. In some things, I will be as kind to you in death as I was in life. Ah! In order to make you happy, or just to make you smile, I will even stand in front of a burning charcoal fire with an apple in my mouth until it is cooked for you. My death will be good for you.. Otherwise, hot tub spa manufacturers ,jacuzzi manufacturers, I may interfere with your conjugal life.. Oh! That Clotilde, I don't understand why she's doing this! In order to be your wife, your surname, day and night do not leave you, belong to you, so pretend! Only the people of Saint Germain can do such a thing! And she doesn't have ten pounds of meat on her bones. Poor Lucien, my dear frustrated man, I am thinking of your future! Go. You'll miss your poor, faithful dog more than once, the kind girl who swindled for you, dragged into felony court to make you happy, and whose only concern was to make you happy and create opportunities for you to enjoy yourself. She has a deep memory of you. The love of the heart, from the hair to the toes, is full of love for you, she is your ballet dancer, every look is a blessing for you, in these six years, she misses only you, she is your appendage. Just as the light is radiated by the sun, I have never been derived from your soul.
But, in the final analysis, alas! As I have neither money nor reputation, I cannot be your wife.. I give you everything I have, and I always think about your future. As soon as you receive this letter, come and take away the things under my pillow, because I am not at ease with these people in the house. You see, I'm going to die beautiful, I'm going to lie down and sleep flat on my bed, and I'm gonna pose! Then I put the pill on my soft palate. I will not destroy my face or form by convulsions or ridiculous gestures. I know Madame de Serici has a quarrel with you on my account. But you see, my cat, when she knows that I am dead, she will forgive you, and you will have a good relationship with her, and if the Grandlieu family insists on refusing your marriage, she will make a good marriage for you. Chapter II (2) My darling, I don't want you to sigh when you learn of my death. First, I should say to you, Monday, the thirteenth of May, at eleven o'clock in the morning, this time is nothing but the end of a chronic illness. This illness began the day you forced me to return to my old job on the platform of Saint Germain.. The pain of the soul is the same as the pain of the body, but the soul can not endure the pain silently like the body. The soul can support the body, but the body can not support the soul. The soul may consider asking the seamstress for a liter of coal as a way to cure itself of its disease. You told me the day before yesterday that if Clotilde continued to refuse you, you would marry me. You're giving me a whole new life. But that would be a great misfortune for both of us,indoor endless pool, and I would die more painfully, so to speak, because the degree of pain in death is different from that in death. The world will never accept us. monalisa.com