Choisy went on being Mrs. de Sancy, except for Rosalie. He had told his new mistress how “Monsieur,” the King's brother, had given him the taste for disguising himself as a woman but he pointed out that he, Choisy, had not lost any of his virility.
— And you find your ruse always successful? she asked, laughing.
— Well… sometimes, Choisy answered modestly, to admit of this metamorphosis it takes favourable circumstances as well as exceptional persons like you.
Rosalie, flattered, smiled. It was for her an unexpected pleasure to see her lover come out of his feminine chrysalis and then, after having given her proof of his virility, go back into his women's clothes. She reasoned that very few persons could have got away with it for any length of time. The remarkable thing was that Choisy was far from being a weak male or an awkward beginner. He was on the contrary expert in voluptuousness and very strong in constitution. But, being vain like nearly all women, she attributed Choisy's special fire and energy in love-making to her own power of seduction. She even went as far as thinking that her harmonious body had been the cause of Mrs. de Sandy's getting out of her reserve. That is why she took good care of keeping Choisy's secret for herself so that she should be the only beneficiary of it. She was at the stage when hidden affairs were more thrilling than open ones.
True, people had not failed to notice the strong friendship that united Rosalie with Mrs. De Sancy, but they had not enough imagination to suspect that anything unusual was afoot, so that their comments on the subject were without malice. Of course, both lovers wisely abstained from being demonstrative in public. They more than made up for their reserve when they were together in the intimacy of their bed-room. There, nothing could hold back their frantic passion.
— I have a bigger bust than you, my dear, Rosalie observed, but the small of your back is more fleshy than mine.
— It serves me in good stead to deceive people, Choisy remarked.
— But one day it may induce your knight to try raping you, she warned.
— Bah! A creditor loses his rights with an insolvent debtor.
For d'Haucourt, Choisy was more than ever Mrs. de Sancy, the object of his flame. That is why Choisy took good care not to find himself alone with him, for he knew to what lengths a jilted lover can go. Fortunately there were Bouju and Lisette and even sometimes Nicolas when he was not on duty, to serve as a shield and prevent his being alone with d'Haucourt. The trio stood good watch, and Choisy received only Rosalie in his intimacy-the others were not allowed to overstep the limits of the salon, and even Choisy's salon was not open at all times but only on reception days.
D'Haucourt raged and fumed to see what all his efforts were repeatedly knocking against a blank wall. That led him to having his temper more than somewhat frayed, and he often bickered.
— It's easier to break into a fortress than your house, he grunted spitefully.
— But, Sir, Choisy replied, would you expect everybody to enter my house just when they pleased? As it is, I receive a great many guests.
— Too many, to my liking! If I had my say — Would you leave your wife without a bodyguard, jealous as you are?
— I have ample cause to be jealous.
— Is this the way you intend winning my favours? It's like rubbing a cat's hair up the wrong way, you know. It will get you nowhere. You know I love society and having people around me.
— Well, I don't.
— Go to a desert, then!
— All right, but with you!
That made Mrs. de Sancy laugh so mockingly that d'Haucourt was deeply hurt and he stopped at once his battle of words. At least, for the nonce, for the day after they started again, and Choisy was no longer amused at his insistence. He saw the red light and guessed that the knight would soon risk the decisive assault. Anyway, that would perhaps be better as then the affair would more quickly be wound up to its fated end, one way or the other- and Choisy knew which way it would end.
So, with a sigh of relief, he finally accepted d'Haucourt's invitation to supper at a would-be friend of the knight.
— He lives in Meudon, it's a charming place near the woods, d'Haucourt explained.
— At night, Choisy objected, I shan't be in a position to enjoy the scenery. D'Haucourt ignored that remark and went on:
— And, above all, don't bring your inseparable friend with you!
— You mean Rosalie?
— Of course, can't you, for one evening, tear yourself away from her? My friend dislikes people in the acting profession.
— That doesn't make him a very likeable person to me, said Choisy.
— For once, I beg this favour — All right, said Choisy, looking d'Haucourt frankly in the eye, I shall leave Rosalie in Paris.
D'Haucourt was as pleased as a schoolboy who has won a pound of ice-cream a day for a year for helping an old lady across the street.
But, when the day of the appointment came, he was astonished to see a young rider arriving instead of Mrs. de Sancy. Or was it Mrs. de Sancy dressed as a man?
— I was looking for your coach. How did you come?
— Riding a horse.
— Alone?
— No, with Bouju, who's waiting for me in an inn.
Choisy took off his cloak and appeared dressed in riding trousers, boots and with a sword dangling from his side. D'Haucourt whistled with admiration.
— How smart you look! You give off a perfect imitation of a man! But, please, remove that sword of yours-it has no business here. Besides, you would be hard put to it if you had to use it.
Instead of answering, Choisy quickly and deftly drew the blade out of its sheath and threatened his host with it.
— Good Heavens! It looks as if you had done nothing but that all your life.
He even had to back away from Choisy who was pricking his doublet with the point of his sword.
— You told me a friend of yours had invited us, Choisy remarked, continuing his fencing, I'd like to see him.
— He is, ahem, at Saint-Germain, hummed and hawed d'Haucourt, embarrassed, he was called away for an urgent replacement.
— You should have told me about it and postponed our supper.
— But why?
— Defend yourself! cried Choisy, or you'll be like a chicken on a spit.
— Aren't you putting the cart before the horse?
Nevertheless, he took out his sword and got busy warding off Choisy's thrusts. As he backed away more and more, he exclaimed:
— Madam, please let's stop this little game. It's dangerous and we have better things to do. Hallo there, Basque!
D'Haucourt's servant answered his master's call but Choisy's attention was not diverted-with a flourish he made d'Haucourt's sword jump out from his grasp and fall with a disgraceful thud on the floor. D'Haucourt stopped dead and felt deeply ashamed.
— You have a grip of iron, he said after a pause.
— Yes, I've had a good master, Choisy said.
— D'Haucourt had to do as he was told and defend himself, but he gave a sign with his head which his valet understood, but Choisy failed to notice, and the next thing he knew he was being seized from behind by two strong arms-those of Basque who had sprung from behind. As he was endeavouring to wrench himself free, d'Haucourt guffawed.
— Come, fair lady, give me your sword. Those are not games for you.
Choisy, fuming like a trapped fox, exclaimed:
— That's a fine victory for you, I'm sure! It took two to disarm me.
— And now, do become again the fair Mrs. De Sancy you are, in spite of your disguise!
D'Haucourt had sheathed his sword and, helped by his valet, succeeded in wrenching Choisy's weapon from his grasp, but not without great difficulty. This new victory made him laugh again jeeringly.
— And now, he said, you can be sure you won't get out of here without having belonged to me.
— That remains to be seen! Choisy ejaculated. D'Haucourt threw himself upon “her” and lifted her from the ground.
— It's as well as done! he exclaimed, I would have preferred your loving me without forcing you to, but, after such a bravado of yours, if I have to use force I shall.
He sank into an armchair without letting go of his prey and started pawing the fleshy backside which stimulated his desire. Choisy did his best to struggle and, as he feared Basque would sooner or later come to his masters aid, he managed to seize a stool and to toss it at the valet. It was a bull's eye — Basque, hit on the head, sank to the floor with a groan. Exit valet.
— What a fury! exclaimed d'Haucourt with more than a tinge of admiration in his voice, and without a thought of pity for his servant.
And, far from renouncing his project, d'Haucourt now seemed more intent than ever to realize it.
Traitorously, he tripped up Choisy and threw himself bodily on him. But he had to use both his hands to hold his prey to the ground, so that he could not reach the treasures he coveted. He squeezed Choisy's wrists and lay heavily on top of him, using his muscular thighs to good advantage. Meanwhile, with his face, he searched inside Choisy's bust in the same way a boar nuzzles for truffles. He even went so far as tearing the lace with his teeth, and he may have thought it odd not to feel the softness of a woman's breast underneath. He was getting more and more wrought up like an exacerbated he-goat and swore to his heart's content.
With a powerful loin thrust, Choisy contrived to lift up his aggressor and make him roll on his side. Then he deftly sprang to his feet, followed closely by d'Haucourt. Choisy took refuge behind a table, ready to overturn it to defend himself if need be. D'Haucourt stopped for a moment to breathe up and exclaimed:
— What a strange wench you are!
— Let me go away! cried Choisy.
— Never! Anyway, you Suddenly he had an inspiration which he thought would make him be the winner without using brute force any longer. He unbuttoned his trousers, letting them fall to his feet, and lifted up his shirt.
— Now, what do you say to that, madam? he asked, grinning satanically.
Choisy saw the emblem of virility brandished in all its tumefied ugliness, almost monstrous.
— Well, now? said d'Haucourt, thrusting out his stomach to give more prominence to his sex, I'm putting my cards on the table… With that, one goes straight to Paradise.
Choisy shrugged his shoulders contemptuously and picked up his sword. Then he blew a little silver whistle.
— What are you doing, madam?
— I'm calling my valet and my horses, Choisy answered unruffled.
D'Haucourt made to throw himself against Choisy, but, forgetting his trousers which were down at his feet, tripped up and caught himself just in time with the arm of a chair, then he quickly-but not quickly enough-lifted up his trousers.
But Choisy was quicker and, brushing aside with his foot the prostrate form of Basque, he opened the door and fled, crying:
— We shall have to resume this conversation with swords, at your convenience, knight, but not here!
The door slammed.
D'Haucourt eyed sadly the object he was now trying to put back into its clothes.
— What a devil of a woman! Insensible even to that. And yet, how many women would find it a joy! And, talking to his sex as to a human being, he added: Poor buggar, what an affront you've been dealt with!
He had just finished dressing up when he heard the sound of hooves pass in front of his window and gradually dwindle away.
— Is she made of ice, this confounded female? he exclaimed.
It is a fact that nearly all men endowed by nature with a monstrously big penis believe they are irresistible to the fair sex. All the spouses of the King of Spain have secretly dreamed of experiencing the strong advantages attributed to the dwarfs made famous by Velasquez's painting, smiling and lascivious. D'Haucourt was wrong to imagine that his deformity which he should have dissimulated rather than paraded, would be of pleasing effect to the lady he loved. Mrs. de Sancy might be a sensual woman but she certainly was not a mare in heat. Fools like d'Haucourt fail to seduce with the silly show off of their attributes, where they could have succeeded had they sparked up in women the curiosity that is inherent in every human being. But that reasoning was too subtle for vainglorious and foolish people.