Ourika english pdf

My partner put a crape over his face. I had no need of any to blacken mine; but this was far from my thoughts, they were wholly engrossed by the pleasures of the ball. I danced the comba with the greatest success, as might be expected, from the novelty of the spectacle, and the choice of spectators, who were all friends of my protectress, and to please her, gave way to the most enthusiastic applause.

The dance was in itself sufficiently attractive, being composed of graceful attitudes and measured steps, expressing love, grief, triumph, and despair. I was totally ignorant of these violent passions; yet from instinct I guessed them, and my imitation succeeded.

I was surrounded by an applauding assembly, and overwhelmed with praise. This was a pleasure that I enjoyed in the most perfect security. It was my last. A few days after this ball had taken place, I overheard by chance a conversation, which awakened me to the truth, and at once put an end to my youth. Between the door and this window there was a table where I used frequently to draw. I sat down one morning, to work at a miniature there; my attention became so completely absorbed that I remained for some time motionless, and no doubt Madame de B.

This lady possessed a penetrating judgment, but her manners were trenchant, positive, and dry. She was capable of great devotion to her friends, but at the same time was inquisitive, and hard to please: in short she was the least amiable of Madame de B.

I feared her, though she had always shown a regard for me; that is, in her own way. Severity and investigation were its signs. I was too much accustomed to indulgence, not to fear her justice. She is a charming girl; her mind is nearly formed; she possesses wit, infinite natural grace, and very superior talents; but what is to become of her? What do you intend to do with her? Alas, poor Ourika! I see thee doomed to be alone—eternally alone in the world!

It would be impossible for me to describe the effect these few words produced upon me; lightning could not have been more prompt.

I discovered the extent of my misery. I saw what I was—a black girl, a dependant, without fortune, without a being of my own kind to whom I could unite my destiny; belonging to nobody; till now, the plaything of my benefactress, but soon an outcast from a world that I was not made for. I shuddered, and my heart beat so violently, that, for a moment, I could not attend to this conversation, but I strove to master my feeling.

What will satisfy her, now that she has passed her life with you in the intimacy of your society? Who will ever marry a negro girl? And if you should find any man who, for the sake of money, would perhaps consent to have negro children, must it not be some one of inferior condition, with whom she would be unhappy? Will a man whom she would choose ever choose her? To have made her happy, I should have made an ordinary being of her; and frankly I believe that impossible.

Besides, as she has not remained in the station she was first intended for, may not her mind rise superior to the restraints of her present one?

Ourika has not fulfilled her destiny, she has usurped a place in society to which she had no right, and society will punish her for it. Poor child! I slid out at the door behind the screen, and flew to my own room, there to solace my poor heart for a moment by a flood of tears.

Oh, how I felt my whole existence changed! How lost I was when the illusions I had so constantly dwelt in vanished! They resembled the light of day, and when they fled, utter darkness succeeded.

So great was the confusion of my mind under the new thoughts that assailed it, that not one of my usual ideas ever occurred to me. I was struck with terror. To be an object of pity to the world!

Not to be fit for the rank I lived in! Perhaps to meet with a man who for the sake of money would consent to have negro children! These thoughts kept rising successively over my mind, pursuing me like phantoms. But the bitterest of all was the certainty of belonging to no one in the world. To be alone! Ever, and for ever alone! What cared I to be alone, but a few minutes before.

I knew it not, I felt it not; I had need of the beings that I loved, but I was unconscious of their not wanting me.

Now my eyes were opened, and with misfortune came mistrust into my soul. When I returned to Madame de B. I pretended to be ill, and was believed. This quieted the uneasiness of my benefactress about my health; but she sought every means of diverting my mind. I dare not own how little gratitude I felt for her care. My heart seemed withered in itself. As long as it had received favours with pleasure, it gladly acknowledged the benefit; but now filled with the bitterest feelings, it had no power to expand.

My days were spent in the same thoughts, differently combined and under various forms, but still the blackest my imagination could invent. Often were my nights passed in weeping. I exhausted my whole pity upon myself. I dwelt upon the idea of my ugliness, and my colour appeared to me the sign of my reprobation: it was that alone which separated me from the rest of my fellow creatures, and condemned me to live alone, and never to be loved.

My blood rose with indignation at the idea. I thought for a moment of entreating Madame de B. Who would have sympathised with my feelings? I belonged to no one—I was estranged from the whole world! It was not until long after that I understood the possibility of being reconciled to such a fate.

They were as sincere as my own character; but I was not aware that piety is of no succour, unless mingled with the daily actions of life. I had devoted a few moments of each day to its practice, but left it a stranger to the rest.

My confessor was an indulgent, unsuspicious old man, whom I saw twice or thrice a year; but as I did not imagine that my grief could be a fault I never mentioned it to him; meanwhile it continued to undermine mine my health, though, strange to say, it perfected my understanding. What I had taken for ideas were impressions.

I did not judge—I liked. I was either pleased or displeased with the words or actions of the persons I lived with, but stopped not to consider why. Since I had found out that the world would reject me, I began to examine and criticise almost every thing that had hitherto enchanted me. Such a tendency could not escape Madame de B.

Possibly she was afraid of letting me confide my chagrin to her, for fear of increasing it; but she was even kinder to me than usual; she entrusted all her thoughts to me, and tried to dissipate my own troubles by busying me with her's.

She judged my heart rightly, for nothing could attach me to life but the idea of being necessary or even useful to my benefactress. To be alone, to die, and leave no regret in the soul of any being, was the dread that haunted me: but there I was unjust towards her, for she sincerely loved me; still she had other and superior interests to mine.

I did not envy her tenderness for her grandchildren; but, oh! Family ties, above all, brought distressing recollections over me. Perhaps I fancied these ties more endearing than they really were; and because they were out of my reach, I foolishly neglected those that were not. But I had no friend, no confidant. My feeling for Madame de B.

His studies were nearly finished, and he was setting out on his travels with his eldest brother and their governor. They were to be two years absent, and were to visit Italy, Germany, and England. Charles was delighted to travel, and I was too well accustomed to rejoice at what gave him pleasure, to feel any grief until the moment of our parting.

I never told him the distress that preyed upon me. We did not see each other alone, and it would have taken me some time to explain my grief to him. He would then have understood me, I am sure. His manners were mild and grave, but he had a propensity to ridicule that intimidated me; not that he ever gratified it but at the expense of affectation.

Sincerity completely disarmed him. However, I kept my secret; besides, the chagrin of our parting was a relief to my mind, to which any grief was more welcome than its accustomed one. A short time after Charles' departure, the revolution began to assume a serious turn: the great moral and political interests that were agitated by it to their very source were daily discussed in Madame de B.

These were debates that superior minds delighted in; and what could better form my own, than the contemplation of an arena where men of distinguished talents were struggling against opinions long since received, and investigating every subject, examining the origin of every institution, unfortunately, to destroy and shake them from their very foundation.

Will you believe that, young as I was, without any share in the interests of society, and nourishing my own wound in secret, the revolution brought some change in my ideas, created a glimmering ray of hope in them, and for a while, suspended their bitterness.

It appeared to me that, in the general confusion, my situation might change; and that, when all ranks were levelled, fortunes upset, and prejudices done away with, I might find myself less isolated in this new order of things; and that, if I did possess any hidden qualities or superiority of mind, my colour would no longer single me out, and prevent their being appreciated: but it happened that these very qualities quickly opposed my illusion.

I could not desire my own happiness at the expense of the misfortune of thousands; besides, I daily witnessed the folly of persons who were struggling against events that they could not control. I saw through the weakness of such characters, and guessed their secret views. Their false philanthropy did not long deceive me, and I quite gave up my hopes when I found that they would still feel contempt for me, even in the midst of the severest adversity.

The days were gone when each sought to please, and remembered that the only means of doing so in society is the very unconsciousness of one's own success. No sooner did the revolution cease to be a grand theory,—no sooner did it menace the interests of every high individual, than conversation degenerated into dispute, and reasoning was exchanged for bitter personality. Sometimes, in spite of my dejection, I could not help being amused by the sudden violence of opinions which were excited by ambition, affectation, or fear; but gaiety that is occasioned by the observation of folly in others is too malignant to do good: the heart delights in innocent joys, and the mirth of ridicule, far from dispelling misfortune, is more likely to proceed from it, as it feeds upon the same bitterness of soul.

My hopes in the revolution having quickly vanished, I remained dissatisfied as before with my situation. Often, in the midst of an acrimonious political discussion, after vainly trying to restore good humour, she would cast a sad look at me:—this look was a balm to my heart; it seemed to say, "Ourika, you alone can sympathise with me. The negroes' right to liberty next began to be debated; and I, of course, felt deeply interested in the question.

One of my remaining illusions was, that at least I had countrymen in another land, and knowing them to be unhappy, I believed them virtuous, and pitied their fate. The massacre of St. Domingo added fresh grief to my soul; and to my despair at belonging to a proscribed race was added shame at their being likewise a race of barbarians. The revolution having soon made rapid progress, and the most violent men getting into power, inspired the greatest terror by their utter disregard of the laws of justice.

The horrid days of the twentieth of June and tenth of August prepared for every other event. The greater number of Madame de B. The constant occupation of her heart fixed her to home. We had been living for some months in solitude, when towards the latter end of the year , the decree for the confiscation of the emigrants' estates was issued. In the midst of such great disasters, Madame de B.

Their travels were just completed, which two years before had been undertaken under such different auspices. Charles arrived in Paris, in the beginning of February, , a short time after the King's death.

Her feeling mind proportioned its horror to the immensity of the crime. Affliction in old age is a most moving spectacle, it carries with it the authority of reason. My own distress scarcely occurred to me while the reign of terror lasted. I should have felt ashamed to think of it during such dreadful calamities. Besides, I no longer felt so isolated, since every person round me was unhappy. Opinion is like the link of country, it is the property of all, and men are brothers to defend its cause.

Sometimes I thought, that poor negress as I was, still I was allied to noble minds, by the same need of justice that I experienced in common with them. The return of truth and justice to their country, would be a day of triumph for me as well as for them; but, alas! On Charles's return, Madame de B. All her friends had fled.

He accompanied us to St. His company was rather quiet than agreeable, and was more the result of his disposition than of his heart. She was intimately, acquainted with the Count de Choiseul, and during his long ministry, was useful to a number of persons. Two of the most popular men during the terror, owed obligations to her, and remembered it in those dreadful times.

They watched over her preservation, and risqued their own lives to save hers from the fury of the revolutionary assassins; and it may here be remarked, that at this fatal epoch even the chiefs of the most violent factions ran great danger in doing a little good. It seemed as if our desolate land was only to be governed by evil, for that alone took away or gave power.

She was guarded at home under pretext of bad health. Nothing can equal the state of anxiety and terror in which we passed our days: continually reading in the papers accounts of the sentences of death passed against Madame de B.

We discovered, indeed, that she was on the eve of perishing, when the death of Robespierre put an end to so much horror. We breathed again. The guards left our house, and we all remained in the same solitude, like people who have escaped some great calamity together. Misfortune seemed to have linked us closer to each other. I felt in those moments that I was not a stranger. If I ever passed a few happy moments since the fairy days of my childhood, it was during the times that followed this disastrous epoch.

Thoughts were free, and might be uttered without responsibility before her, merely passing for what they were worth. Such gifts, had they been her only ones, would have made Madame de B's friends adore her; but how many others she possessed! It was impossible to feel ennui in her company. There was a charm in her wit and manner, that made even trifles interesting the moment they engrossed her attention. Charles bore some resemblance to his mother.

His mind like her's was liberal and just, but firm, and without modification, for youth allows of none; it finds every thing either quite right or quite wrong, while the failing of old age is to believe that nothing is ever quite right or quite wrong. Charles was endowed with the two first qualities of his age,—truth and justice. I have already said, that he hated the very shadow of affectation; nay, he sometimes fancied it where it did not exist.

Reserve was habitual to him, and this made his confidence the more flattering, as it was evidently the result of his esteem, and not of his natural propensity; whatever portion of it he granted, was of value, for he never acted inconsiderately, and yet was always natural and sincere.

He placed such full reliance in me, that his thoughts were communicated to me as quickly as they came. When we were all seated round our table of an evening, how interesting were our conversations. It was then he would unburthen his mind to me, and tell me his thoughts, his projects, his future hopes, and above all, his opinion upon men and passing events.

He had not a secret feeling hidden from me, and was unconscious of disclosing one. The habit of relying upon my friendship had made it like his own life to him. He enjoyed it without knowing that he did.

He demanded neither attention nor expressions of interest from me; he knew that, in speaking to me of his own concerns, it was as though he spoke to me of mine, and that I felt more deeply for him than he did for himself. Friendship like this was a charm that equalled the sensations of happiness itself! I never thought of telling Charles what had so long oppressed me. I listened to him, and, by I know not what magical effect, his conversation banished from my mind the recollection of my sorrows.

Had he questioned me, I should have confessed them all, but he did not imagine that I had any secret. Every body was accustomed to my weak state of health, and Madame de B. So I ought to have been, I felt it, and often accused myself of ingratitude and folly. I doubt whether I should have ever dared to own how miserable the irreparable misfortune of my colour made me.

There is a sort of degradation in not being able to submit to necessity, and when hopeless grief masters the soul, it bears the character of despair.

There was a rigidity in Charles's notions, which likewise increased my timidity. One evening our conversation turned upon pity, and it was asked, whether misfortune inspires most compassion from its cause or from its effects. Charles decided for the former; this was declaring that all grief should be actuated by some powerful motive.

But who can judge the motives of another? All hearts have not the same wants; and does not real misfortune consist in the heart's being deprived of its desires? It was seldom, however, that our conversations thus led me to reflect upon my own case, which I so earnestly sought to forget. I would have no looking-glasses in my room. I constantly wore gloves, and dresses that covered my throat and arms.

I had a large hat and veil to walk out in, which I often continued to wear in doors: in short, I would fain have deceived myself, and, like a child, shut my own eyes, and thought that no one saw me. Towards the end of the year , the reign of terror being at an end, friends began to seek each other out, and the scattered remains of Madame de B.

With chagrin I beheld the circle of her friends increase, for the station I held in the world was so equivocal, that the more society returned to its natural order, the more I felt myself excluded from it.

Every time that strangers came to visit us I underwent fresh misery. The expression of surprise, mingled with disdain, that I observed upon their countenances when they first beheld, me, put me to confusion. I used to suffer martyrdom during these explanations.

I longed to be transported back to my barbarous country and its savage inhabitants, whom I should fear less than this cruel world that made me responsible for its own evils. The recollection of a disdainful look would remain upon me for whole days, appear to me in my dreams, flit before me under the likeness of my own image.

Thou, my God! I then sought for shelter in the heart of Charles. I was proud of his virtues, and still prouder of his friendship. I admired him as the most perfect being that I knew upon earth. I once thought that I felt for him the most tender love of a sister; but now, worn by grief, it seemed as if I had grown old, and my tenderness was become that of a mother.

Indeed, a mother only could feel the same passionate desire for his success, and anxiety for his welfare through life. I would willingly have given up my existence to save him from a moment's pain. I saw the impression he made upon others long before he did. He was happy enough neither to think nor care about it. This was natural, for he had nothing to fear; nothing to give him that habitual uneasiness I felt about the opinion of others.

His fate was all harmony, mine was all discord. One morning an old friend called upon Madame de B. Her whole family, excepting her great aunt, had perished on the scaffold in one day. This lady having reached her eightieth year as sole guardian of her niece, was exceedingly anxious to have her married, lest her own death should leave her without a single protector.

The interview took place, and his reluctance vanished. Anais was formed to please him. She appeared so unconscious of her charms, and possessed modesty so unassuming and quiet, that she could not fail endearing herself to him; he was allowed to visit at her aunt's, and soon became passionately in love with her. I knew the progress of his feelings, and longed to behold this lovely creature to whom his happiness was soon to be entrusted.

She came one morning to St. Charles had spoken of me to her, and I had no contemptuous scrutiny to undergo. She appeared to me an angel of goodness; I assured her that Charles would make her happy, and that his discretion was so much above his years, that she need have no apprehensions on account of his youth.

She questioned me much about him, for she knew that we had been friends from infancy, and I was so delighted at having an opportunity of extolling his many virtues, that I could have talked for ever. His absence pained me; I felt vexed at losing him, and vexed with myself for preferring my own happiness to his. I had never done so before. The days that he returned home were holidays for me. Then he would tell me how he had passed his time, what progress he had made in the affections of his mistress, and rejoice with me at the success he had met with, Once, he began describing to me the manner he intended to live with her —"I will obtain her conscience," said he, "and give her mine.

All my thoughts shall be open to her, every secret impulse of heart will I tell her; in short, I wish the same mutual trust and confidence to be between us as between you and me, Ourika. How this pained me. I recollected that he knew not the only secret I ever had, and determined never to let him know it.

By degrees his absences became longer and more frequent, until at last he used merely to come to St. Germains for a few minutes at a time generally on horseback, to save time on the road , and always returning to Paris the same afternoon, so that we completely lost his company of an evening. One morning, as we were walking in the forest, I perceived him coming full gallop at a distance.

He had been absent nearly the whole week; as he approached us, he jumped from his horse, and began walking with us. After a few minutes general conversation, we remained behind, and began conversing as in former times. I remarked it. I have only begun to exist since I have known my Anais! Ah, Ourika, I never can express to you what I feel for her.

Sometimes it seems to me as if my whole soul were passing into her's. When she looks at me I can no longer breathe;—if she blushes, I long to throw myself in adoration at her feet;—and when I think that I am to become the protector of this angel, and that she trusts her happiness, her life, her fate to me, ah!

I shall replace the parents she has lost, but I shall likewise be her husband! Her first affections will be mine,—our hearts will flow into each other, and our lives mingle into one; nor during their whole current, shall she have to say that I have given her an hour's pain.

Tell me, merciful heaven, what have I done to deserve such happiness? I had listened to his passionate discourse with the most unaccountable sensations. Thou knowest, O Lord, that I envied not his happiness, but why gavest thou life to poor Ourika? Why did she not perish on board the slave ship she was snatched from, or on the bosom of her mother.

A little African sand would have covered her infant body, and light would have been the burthen. Why was Ourika condemned to live? To live alone? Ever and for ever alone? Never to be loved! O my God! Take thy poor Ourika from hence! No creature wants her; must she linger desolate through life! This heart-rending thought seized me with more violence than it ever had. I felt my knees sinking under me. My eyes closed, and I thought that I was dying. At these words the poor Nun's agitation increased.

Her voice faultered, and a few tears ran down her withered cheeks. I besought her to suspend her narration, but she refused. Her life was peaceful until the day she overheard a conversation between Mme. The only distraction from her self-pity was when Charles left to travel abroad. When the Revolution took a serious turn, it gave Ourika a wisp of hope that she might find her true place when the chaos settled, but she was soon disabused as she could not stand the great present suffering for the potential of her own small future happiness.

Her interest in the idea of emancipating the Negroes only made her ashamed to belong to a race of barbarous murderers after the massacres at Santo Domingo. After Mme. The time spent at Saint-Germain was the happiest in Ourika's life after the end of her childhood delusions.

Ourika felt needed by Mme. She was displeased when Mme. After Charles fell in love with Mlle. While Mme. She recovered but grieved the loss of her friend, despite his frequent visits after his marriage. Ourika and Mme. While Ourika prayed to die, the marquise visited her to learn her sorrows, but after she insisted that Ourika's grief was the result of a secret, doomed passion for Charles, Ourika's despair increased as she wondered if the marquise was right.

Her health worsened, and she nearly died. After the parish priest heard Ourika's final confession, he assured her that she was not guilty of improperly loving Charles, but she has sinned by being unhappy and not recognizing God's purpose for her life. Encouraged by the priest, Ourika decided to become a nun with Mme. After the nun finishes her story, the doctor continues to visit, but her remedies prove vain when Ourika dies at the end of October. Read more from the Study Guide.

Browse all BookRags Study Guides. All rights reserved. Toggle navigation. Sign Up. Sign In. View the Study Pack.