"Complaintes" are not simply recited, but lend
themselves to that nasal intonation which
French ballad-singers call song, and are adapted
to some well-known tune. "The Procès Du
Glandier" is set to to the air "Ecoutez, peuple
de France," and runs as follows:

    Dans l'intérêt de l'histoire,
    D'la morale et d'la vertu,
    J'veux conter en impromptu
    Une traim, dit-on, fort noire,
    Mais faite avec tant d'fraicheur,
    Qu'on dirait qu' c'est d'la blancheur!

[In the interest of history, of morality, and of
virtue, I will relate, off-hand, a plot said to be a
very black one, but carried out so skilfully that it
might be called whiteness itself.]

The history thus prefaced is the famous case of
Madame Lafarge, who is introduced in the
following strain:

    Marie est une d'moiselle
    Qui n'a pas beaucoup d'beauté,
    Mais d'l'esprit en quantité,
    Et l'diable dans la cervelle.
    Tout homme qu'ell' regardait
    D'amour à l'instant . . . fondait!

[Marie is a young lady who has not much beauty,
but a great deal of cleverness, and the very devil in
her brain. Every man whom she looked at with
love instantly——melted.]

This fascinating basilisk had been an artful
dodger from her childhood upwards, not only
what the Persians would call "a melter of
hearts," but a filcher of her companions' goods
and chattels into the bargain:

    On prétend qu' dès sa jeunesse,
    Ã‡a s'voit dans l'instruction,
    Elle chipait sans permission
    A ses compagn' par finesse,
    Leurs p'tits joyaux, v'nant à bout
    De fourrer ses doigts partout.

[It is declared that from her childhood—this
appears in the accusation—cunningly, without the
permission of her companions, she stole their little
trinkets, contriving to thrust her fingers
everywhere.]

Her morals did not improve as she grew up,
but she was careful of her reputation, and for
every peccadillo she had a present remedy:

    Rien dans ell' ne scandalise.
    Ecrit-elle un billet-doux?
    Ell' donn' tous ses rendezvous
    Honnêt'ment dans quelqu' église,
    Du moment qu'ell' vient d'passer
    Tout d'suite elle peut s'confesser.

[Nothing in her (conduct) gives cause for scandal.
Does she write a billet-doux? She gives all her
meetings openly in some church, and the moment
she commits a fault is able to confess it.]

To settle her in the married state was, therefore,
the first desire of her friends, and Marie
made no objection:

    Un jour on lui dit: Marie,
    II faut sans aller plus loin,
    Qu'on te choisisse avec soin
    Un bel homm' et qu'on te marie;
    Soit: un mari blond z'ou brun,
    Voyons, donnez-moi-z'en un.

[One day some one says to her: "Marie, without
going any further we must choose a handsome man
and marry you." "Very well: let the husband be
fair or dark, only give me one."]

A fine, broad-shouldered, large-limbed Limousin,
was shown to her in Musart's concert-room:

    On lui trouve, j'vous l'assure,
    Un Limousin renfoncé,
    Partant l'mollet prononcé,
    Cinq pieds huit pouc' bonn' mesure,
    Superbe mari d'hasard
    Qu'on lui fait voir chez Musart.

[They find for her, I assure you. a regular Limousin,
with a fine pair of calves, and standing five feet
eight, good measure,—a superb husband sent by
chance, whom they show to her at Musart's.]

The marriage speedily took place:

    On les marie au pas d'charge,
    Ell' ne l'trouvait pas trop beau;
    Mais lui croyant un château,
    Ell' dit: j'suis Madame Lafarge,
    Un homm', dans l'næud conjugal,
    A l'droit d' êt' laid, c'est égal!

[They marry them in double-quick time; she does
not think him too good-looking, but, believing him
the owner of a fine house, she says: "I am Madame
Lafarge;—a man in the conjugal knot has a right
to be ugly. It's all the same."]

Scarcely had she been three days married when
she grew cold towards her helpmate. She had
formed high expectations of Glandier; but, on
seeing the desolate place it was, broke out into
bitter complaints, and straightway declared her
mind:

    V'la qu'on arrive à c'te terre,
    La femm' dit: Quoi! c'est Glandier!
    C'château, c'est un vrai grenier,
    D'vieux chartreux, vieux monastère,
    J'veux m'en aller d'ton nid d'rats,
    Ou d'ma main tu périras!

[As soon as they arrive at his property, the wife
says: "What, is this Glandier? The place is
nothing but a granary, a monastery only fit for old
monks. I will be off from your nest of rats, or by
my hand you shall perish!"]

Marie then writes an extraordinary letter to her
husband, darkly hinting at a meditated crime,
and equivocally threatening his peace of mind:

    La voila qui fait une lettre
    Comm' on n'en a jamais fait:
    Où c'qu' ell' menac' d'un forfait
    Et d'un crim' qu'ell' veut commettre.
    Ajoutant: Sois convaincu,
    Que par charl' tu s'ras . . . . vaincu.

[Thereupon she writes a letter such as was never
before composed, in which she mentions infidelity,
besides the commission of another crime, adding:
'Be convinced that by Charles you will be——
conquered."]

Her state of mind, at this time, is described as
uncontrollable; she rejects the consolations of
religion, and perseveres in her menaces; but
fortunately a neighbour pays Madame Lafarge a
visit, and, by his arguments, induces her to live
as a wife should with her husband:

    Puis voilà, c'te capricieuse
    Qui r'çoit visit' d'un voisin,
    Un homm' d'esprit Limousin,
    Qui chang' cett' femm' furieuse,