He and she ( 1910) Novel by Paul de Musset

He and she by Paul de Musset, Translated by Ernest Tristan

He and she by Paul de Musset,
He and she 

Paul Edme de Musset, born in Paris on 7 November 1804, died in the same city on 17 May 1880, was a French writer. Brother of Alfred de Musset, he was well known for his family, who were very famous at the time, as well as for his own writings, including biographies.

This book has no need for explanation. The sole reason for its appearance is the accomplishment of a duty, one perfectly well understood by all honorable men. The Author will make no reply to the attacks of which he has been the object. His self-imposed reserve cannot be so easily broken like that. Invective, abusive and irresponsible threats against which the law offers every desirable protection, intimidate no one, and prove nothing. 

is a note -written by the Author.


No, my dear Jean, we are not as near hating you as you make out, and it was very wrong of you to sit up till three o'clock in the morning writing to me those six pages of reproaches which I do not deserve. No, you will never discover in my heart anything at all like hate. Drive right away those evil thoughts which grief and insomnia have instilled into your mind. Have patience, wait for a little while, and you will recognize that in me you have a loving sister and an affectionate mother. Good God \ no, I am not closing my door to you; I am not demanding your banishment. 

I do not sigh for the moment when every second as it passes will increase by a revolution of the wheels the distance which divides us. Can you assure me that you are cured? Is your heart, like mine, disposed to taste the charm of brotherly friendship? Is my presence without danger to you? Then come and see me, and stay with me as long as you please. But unfortunately, you have not reached that state; your wound bleeds horribly. You talk to me of friendship with bitterness, and the anger of a love no longer reciprocated. You can see that we must separate.

 What is the use of seeking an explanation, and the cause of my coolness? Love departs without any reason as it comes, or rather it dies because everything has an end. Do you think a person discards it deliberately, like an unbecoming dress? You accuse me of He and She 3 performing in my sentiments a real amputation with the ferocity of a surgeon. Alas ! my dear child, would to God that my folly had lasted as long as yours! I regret it and weep for it, but it depended neither on you nor myself to prolong it even a minute. I awoke from it as from a delightful dream; but once awakened from one's sleep, nothing can renew the dream. Bear that well in mind. Vain tenderness would only harm you. The future belongs to holy friendship. Upon the page of love must be written the word : " Never! " Do not hesitate, start for Italy.
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