A Coward

Guy de Maupassant

Society called him Handsome Signoles. His name was Viscount Gontran-Joseph de Signoles. An orphan, and possessed of an adequate income, he cut a dash, as the saying is. He had a good figure and a good carriage, a sufficient flow of words to pass for wit, a certain natural grace, an air of no ility and pride, a gallant moustache and an eloquent eye, attri utes which women li!e. He was in demand in drawing-rooms, sought after for "alses, and in men he inspired that smiling hostility which is reser"ed for "ital and attracti"e ri"als. He had een suspected of se"eral lo"e-affairs of a sort calculated to create a good opinion of a youngster. He li"ed a happy, care-free life, in the most complete well- eing of ody and mind. He was !nown to e a fine swordsman and a still finer shot with the pistol. #$hen % come to fight a duel,# he would say, #% shall choose pistols. $ith that weapon, %&m sure of !illing my man.# 'ne e"ening, he went to the theatre with two ladies, quite young, friends of his, whose hus ands were also of the party, and after the performance he in"ited them to ta!e ices at (ortoni&s. (hey had een sitting there for a few minutes when he noticed a gentleman at a neigh ouring ta le staring o stinately at one of the ladies of the party. She seemed em arrassed and ill at ease, and ent her head. At last she said to her hus and) #(here&s a man staring at me. % don&t !now him* do you+# (he hus and, who had seen nothing, raised his eyes, ut declared) #,o, not in the least.# Half smiling, half in anger, she replied) #%t&s "ery annoying* the creature&s spoiling my ice.# Her hus and shrugged his shoulders. #-euce ta!e him, don&t appear to notice it. %f we had to deal with all the discourteous people one meets, we&d ne"er ha"e done with them.# .

/ut the Viscount had risen a ruptly. He could not permit this stranger to spoil an ice of his gi"ing. %t was to him that the insult was addressed, since it was at his in"itation and on his account that his friends had come to the cafe. (he affair was no usiness of anyone ut himself. He went up to the man and said) #0ou ha"e a way of loo!ing at those ladies, sir, which % cannot stomach. 1lease e so good as to set a limit to your persistence.# #0ou hold your tongue,# replied the other. #(a!e care, sir,# retorted the Viscount, clenching his teeth*# you&ll force me to o"erstep the ounds of common politeness.# (he gentleman replied with a single word, a "ile word which rang across the cafe from one end to the other, and, li!e the release of a spring, 2er!ed e"ery person present into an a rupt mo"ement. All those with their ac!s towards him turned round, all the rest raised their heads* three waiters spun round on their heels li!e tops* the two ladies ehind the counter started, then the whole upper half of their odies twisted round, as though they were a couple of automata wor!ed y the same handle. (here was a profound silence. (hen suddenly a sharp noise resounded in the air. (he Viscount had o3ed his ad"ersary&s ears. 4"ery one rose to inter"ene. 5ards were e3changed. /ac! in his home, the Viscount wal!ed for se"eral minutes up and down his room with long quic! strides. He was too e3cited to thin!. A solitary idea dominated his mind) #a duel#* ut as yet the idea stirred in him no emotion of any !ind. He had done what he was compelled to do* he had shown himself to e what he ought to e. 1eople would tal! of it, would appro"e of him, congratulate him. He repeated aloud, spea!ing as a man spea!s in se"ere mental distress) #$hat a hound the fellow is6# (hen he sat down and egan to reflect. %n the morning he must find seconds. $hom should he choose+ He searched his mind for the most important and cele rated names of his acquaintance. At last he decided on the Marquis de la (our-,oire and 5olonel /ourdin, an aristocrat and a soldier* they would do e3cellently. (heir names would loo! well in the papers. He realised that he was thirsty, and dran! three glasses of water one after the other* then he egan to wal! up and down again. He felt full of energy. %f he played the gallant, showed himself determined, insisted on the most strict and dangerous arrangements, demanded a serious duel, a thoroughly serious duel, a positi"ely terri le duel, his ad"ersary would pro a ly retire an apologist. 7

He too! up once more the card which he had ta!en from his poc!et and thrown down upon the ta le, and read it again as he had read it efore, in the cafe, at a glance, and in the ca , y the light of each gas-lamp, on his way home. #Georges 8amil, 9. rue Moncey.# ,othing more. He e3amined the grouped letters* they seemed to him mysterious, full of confused meaning. Georges 8amil+ $ho was this man+ $hat did he do+ $hy had he loo!ed at the woman in that way+ $as it not re"olting that a stranger, an un!nown man, could thus distur a man&s life, without warning, 2ust ecause he chose to fi3 his insolent eyes upon a woman+ Again the Viscount repeated aloud) #$hat a hound6# (hen he remained standing stoc!-still, lost in thought, his eyes still fi3ed upon the card. A fury against this scrap of paper awo!e in him, a fury of hatred in which was mingled a queer sensation of uneasiness. (his sort of thing was so stupid6 He too! up an open !nife which lay close at hand and thrust it through the middle of the printed name, as though he had sta ed a man. So he must fight. Should he choose swords or pistols+--for he regarded himself as the insulted party. $ith swords there would e less ris!, ut with pistols there was a chance that his ad"ersary might withdraw. %t is "ery rare that a duel with swords is fatal, for mutual prudence is apt to restrain com atants from engaging at sufficiently close quarters for a point to penetrate deeply. $ith pistols he ran a gra"e ris! of death* ut he might also e3tricate himself from the affair with all the honours of the situation and without actually coming to a meeting. #% must e firm,# he said. #He will ta!e fright.# (he sound of his "oice set him trem ling, and he loo!ed round. He felt "ery ner"ous. He dran! another glass of water, then egan to undress for ed. As soon as he was in ed, he lew out the light and closed his eyes. #%&"e the whole of to-morrow,# he thought, #in which to set my affairs in order. %&d etter sleep now, so that % shall e quite calm.# He was "ery warm in the lan!ets, ut he could not manage to compose himself to sleep. He turned this way and that, lay for fi"e minutes upon his ac!, turned on to his left side, then rolled o"er on to his right. He was still thirsty. He got up to get a drin!. A feeling of uneasiness crept o"er him) #%s it possi le that %&m afraid+# $hy did his heart eat madly at each familiar sound in his room+ $hen the cloc! was a out to stri!e, the faint squea! of the rising spring made him start* so sha!en :

he was that for se"eral seconds afterwards he had to open his mouth to get his reath. He egan to reason with himself on the possi ility of his eing afraid. #Shall % e afraid+# ,o, of course he would not e afraid, since he was resol"ed to see the matter through, and had duly made up his mind to fight and not to trem le. /ut he felt so profoundly distressed that he wondered) #5an a man e afraid in spite of himself+# He was attac!ed y this dou t, this uneasiness, this terror* suppose a force more powerful than himself, masterful, irresisti le, o"ercame him, what would happen+ 0es, what might not happen+ Assuredly he would go to the place of the meeting, since he was quite ready to go. /ut supposing he trem led+ Supposing he fainted+ He thought of the scene, of his reputation, his good name. (here came upon him a strange need to get up and loo! at himself in the mirror. He relit his candle. $hen he saw his face reflected in the polished glass, he scarcely recognised it, it seemed to him as though he had ne"er yet seen himself. His eyes loo!ed to him enormous* and he was pale* yes, without dou t he was pale, "ery pale. He remained standing in front of the mirror. He put out his tongue, as though to ascertain the state of his health, and a ruptly the thought struc! him li!e a ullet) #(he day after to-morrow, at this "ery hour, % may e dead.# His heart egan again its furious eating. #(he day after to-morrow, at this "ery hour, % may e dead. (his person facing me, this me % see in the mirror, will e no more. $hy, here % am, % loo! at myself, % feel myself ali"e, and in twenty-four hours % shall e lying in that ed, dead, my eyes closed, cold, inanimate, "anished.# He turned ac! towards the ed, and distinctly saw himself lying on his ac! in the "ery sheets he had 2ust left. He had the hollow face of a corpse, his hands had the slac!ness of hands that will ne"er ma!e another mo"ement. At that he was afraid of his ed, and, to get rid of the sight of it, went into the smo!ing-room. Mechanically he pic!ed up a cigar, lit it, and egan to wal! up and down again. He was cold* he went to the ell to wa!e his "alet* ut he stopped, e"en as he raised his hand to the rope. #He will see that % am afraid.#

He did not ring* he lit the fire. His hands shoo! a little, with a ner"ous tremor, whene"er they touched anything. His rain whirled, his trou led thoughts ecame elusi"e, transitory, and gloomy* his mind suffered all the effects of into3ication, as though he were actually drun!. '"er and o"er again he thought) #$hat shall % do+ $hat is to ecome of me+# His whole ody trem led, sei<ed with a 2er!y shuddering* he got up and, going to the window, drew ac! the curtains. -awn was at hand, a summer dawn. (he rosy s!y touched the town, its roofs and walls, with its own hue. A road descending ray, li!e the caress of the rising sun, en"eloped the awa!ened world* and with the light, hope--a gay, swift, fierce hope-filled the Viscount&s heart6 $as he mad, that he had allowed himself to e struc! down y fear, efore anything was settled e"en, efore his seconds had seen those of this Georges 8amil, efore he !new whether he was going to fight+ He washed, dressed, and wal!ed out with a firm step. He repeated to himself, as he wal!ed) #% must e energetic, "ery energetic. % must pro"e that % am not afraid.# His seconds, the Marquis and the 5olonel, placed themsel"es at his disposal, and after hearty handsha!es discussed the conditions. #0ou are an3ious for a serious duel+ # as!ed the 5olonel. #0es, a "ery serious one,# replied the Viscount. #0ou still insist on pistols+# said the Marquis. #0es.# #0ou will lea"e us free to arrange the rest+# %n a dry, 2er!y "oice the Viscount stated) #(wenty paces* at the signal, raising the arm, and not lowering it. 43change of shots till one is seriously wounded.# #(hey are e3cellent conditions,# declared the 5olonel in a tone of satisfaction. #0ou shoot well, you ha"e e"ery chance.# (hey departed. (he Viscount went home to wait for them. His agitation, momentarily quietened, was now growing minute y minute. He felt a strange shi"ering, a ceaseless "i ration, down his arms, down his legs, in his chest* he could 9

not !eep still in one place, neither seated nor standing. (here was not the least moistening of sali"a in his mouth, and at e"ery instant he made a "iolent mo"ement of his tongue, as though to pre"ent it stic!ing to his palate. He was eager to ha"e rea!fast, ut could not eat. (hen the idea came to him to drin! in order to gi"e himself courage, and he sent for a decanter of rum, of which he swallowed si3 liqueur glasses full one after the other. A urning warmth flooded through his ody, followed immediately y a sudden di<<iness of the mind and spirit. #,ow % !now what to do,# he thought. #,ow it is all right.# /ut y the end of an hour he had emptied the decanter, and his state of agitation had once more ecome intolera le. He was conscious of a wild need to roll on the ground, to scream, to ite. ,ight was falling. (he ringing of a ell ga"e him such a shoc! that he had not strength to rise and welcome his seconds. He did not e"en dare to spea! to them, to say #Good e"ening# to them, to utter a single word, for fear they guessed the whole thing y the alteration in his "oice. #4"erything is arranged in accordance with the conditions you fi3ed,# o ser"ed the 5olonel. #At first your ad"ersary claimed the pri"ileges of the insulted party, ut he yielded almost at once, and has accepted e"erything. His seconds are two military men.# #(han! you,# said the Viscount. #1ardon us,# interposed the Marquis, #if we merely come in and lea"e again immediately, ut we ha"e a thousand things to see to. $e must ha"e a good doctor, since the com at is not to end until a serious wound is inflicted, and you !now that pistol ullets are no laughing-matter. $e must appoint the ground, near a house to which we may carry the wounded man if necessary, etc. %n fact, we shall e occupied for two or three hours arranging all that there is to arrange.# #(han! you,# said the Viscount a second time. #0ou are all right+# as!ed the 5olonel. #0ou are calm+# #0es, quite calm, than! you.# (he two men retired. $hen he realised that he was once more alone, he thought that he was going mad. His ser"ant had lit the lamps, and he sat down at the ta le to write letters. After tracing, at the head of a sheet) #(his is my will,# he rose shi"ering and wal!ed away, =

feeling incapa le of connecting two ideas, of ta!ing a resolution, of ma!ing any decision whate"er. So he was going to fight6 He could no longer a"oid it. (hen what was the matter with him+ He wished to fight, he had a solutely decided upon this plan of action and ta!en his resol"e, and he now felt clearly, in spite of e"ery effort of mind and forcing of will, that he could not retain e"en the strength necessary to get him to the place of meeting. He tried to picture the duel, his own attitude and the earing of his ad"ersary. >rom time to time his teeth chattered in his mouth with a slight clic!ing noise. He tried to read, and too! down 5hateau"illard&s code of duelling. (hen he wondered) #-oes my ad"ersary go to shooting-galleries+ %s he well !nown+ %s he classified anywhere+ How can % find out+# He ethought himself of /aron Vau3&s oo! on mar!smen with the pistol, and ran through it from end to end. Georges 8amil was not mentioned in it. 0et if the man were not a good shot, he would surely not ha"e promptly agreed to that dangerous weapon and those fatal conditions+ He opened, in passing, a case y Gastinne ?enette standing on a small ta le, and too! out one of the pistols, then placed himself as though to shoot and raised his arm. /ut he was trem ling from head to foot and the arrel mo"ed in e"ery direction. At that, he said to himself) #%t&s impossi le. % cannot fight in this state.# He loo!ed at the end of the arrel, at the little, lac!, deep hole that spits death* he thought of the disgrace, of the whispers at the clu , of the laughter in drawingrooms, of the contempt of women, of the allusions in the papers, of the insults which cowards would fling at him. He was still loo!ing at the weapon, and, raising the hammer, caught a glimpse of a cap gleaming eneath it li!e a tiny red flame. /y good fortune or forgetfulness, the pistol had een left loaded. At the !nowledge, he was filled with a confused ine3plica le sense of 2oy. %f, when face to face with the other man, he did not show a proper gallantry and calm, he would e lost for e"er. He would e sullied, randed with a mar! of infamy, hounded out of society. And he would not e a le to achie"e that calm, that swaggering poise* he !new it, he felt it. 0et he was ra"e, since he wanted to fight % ... He was ra"e, since....

(he thought which ho"ered in him did not e"en fulfil itself in his mind* ut, opening his mouth wide, he thrust in the arrel of his pistol with sa"age gesture until it reached his throat, and pressed on the trigger. $hen his "alet ran in, at the sound of the report, he found him lying dead upon his ac!. A shower of lood had splashed the white paper on the ta le, and made a great red mar! eneath these four words) #(his is my will.#