A Prince of Bohemia | Page 5

the
army. The Emperor made him a commander of the Legion of Honor
and a count. His spine was slightly curved, and his son was wont to say
of him laughingly that he was /un comte refait (contrefait)/.
"General Count Rusticoli, for he became a brigadier-general at
Ratisbon and a general of the division on the field of Wagram, died at
Vienna almost immediately after his promotion, or his name and ability
would sooner or later have brought him the marshal's baton. Under the
Restoration he would certainly have repaired the fortunes of a great and
noble family so brilliant even as far back as 1100, centuries before they
took the French title--for the Rusticoli had given a pope to the church
and twice revolutionized the kingdom of Naples--so illustrious again
under the Valois; so dexterous in the days of the Fronde, that obstinate
Frondeurs though they were, they still existed through the reign of
Louis XIV. Mazarin favored them; there was the Tuscan strain in them
still, and he recognized it.
"Today, when Charles Edward de la Palferine's name is mentioned, not

three persons in a hundred know the history of his house. But the
Bourbons have actually left a Foix-Grailly to live by his easel.
"Ah, if you but knew how brilliantly Charles Edward accepts his
obscure position! how he scoffs at the bourgeois of 1830! What Attic
salt in his wit! He would be the king of Bohemia, if Bohemia would
endure a king. His /verve/ is inexhaustible. To him we owe a map of
the country and the names of the seven castles which Nodier could not
discover."
"The one thing wanting in one of the cleverest skits of our time," said
the Marquise.
"You can form your own opinion of La Palferine from a few
characteristic touches," continued Nathan. "He once came upon a friend
of his, a fellow-Bohemian, involved in a dispute on the boulevard with
a bourgeois who chose to consider himself affronted. To the modern
powers that be, Bohemia is insolent in the extreme. There was talk of
calling one another out.
" 'One moment,' interposed La Palferine, as much Lauzun for the
occasion as Lauzun himself could have been. 'One moment. Monsieur
was born, I suppose?'
" 'What, sir?'
" 'Yes, are you born? What is your name?'
" 'Godin.'
" 'Godin, eh!' exclaimed La Palferine's friend.
" 'One moment, my dear fellow,' interrupted La Palferine. 'There are the
Trigaudins. Are you one of them?'
"Astonishment.
" 'No? Then you are one of the new dukes of Gaeta, I suppose, of
imperial creation? No? Oh, well, how can you expect my friend to
cross swords with you when he will be secretary of an embassy and
ambassador /some day/, and you will owe him respect? /Godin!/ the
thing is non- existent! You are a nonentity, Godin. My friend cannot be
expected to beat the air! When one is somebody, one cannot fight with
a nobody! Come, my dear fellow--good-day.'
" 'My respects to madame,' added the friend.
"Another day La Palferine was walking with a friend who flung his
cigar end in the face of a passer-by. The recipient had the bad taste to
resent this.

" 'You have stood your antagonist's fire,' said the young Count, 'the
witnesses declare that honor is satisfied.'
"La Palferine owed his tailor a thousand francs, and the man instead of
going himself sent his assistant to ask for the money. The assistant
found the unfortunate debtor up six pairs of stairs at the back of a yard
at the further end of the Faubourg du Roule. The room was unfurnished
save for a bed (such a bed!), a table, and such a table! La Palferine
heard the preposterous demand--'A demand which I should qualify as
illegal,' he said when he told us the story, 'made, as it was, at seven
o'clock in the morning.'
" 'Go,' he answered, with the gesture and attitude of a Mirabeau, 'tell
your master in what condition you find me.'
"The assistant apologized and withdrew. La Palferine, seeing the young
man on the landing, rose in the attire celebrated in verse in
/Britannicus/ to add, 'Remark the stairs! Pay particular attention to the
stairs; do not forget to tell him about the stairs!'
"In every position into which chance has thrown La Palferine, he has
never failed to rise to the occasion. All that he does is witty and never
in bad taste; always and in everything he displays the genius of Rivarol,
the polished subtlety of the old French noble. It was he who told that
delicious anecdote of a friend of Laffitte the banker. A national fund
had been started to give back to Laffitte the mansion in which the
Revolution of 1830 was brewed, and this friend appeared