That Pig of A Morin by Guy de Maupassant
"Here, my friend," I said to Labarbe, "you have just repeated those five
words, that pig of a Morin. Why on earth do I never hear Morin's name
mentioned without his being called a pig?"
Labarbe, who is a deputy, looked at me with his owl-like eyes and said:
"Do you mean to say that you do not know Morin's story and you come from
La Rochelle?" I was obliged to declare that I did not know Morin's story,
so Labarbe rubbed his hands and began his recital.
"You knew Morin, did you not, and you remember his large linen-draper's
shop on the Quai de la Rochelle?"
"Well, then. You must know that in 1862 or '63 Morin went to spend a
fortnight in Paris for pleasure; or for his pleasures, but under the
pretext of renewing his stock, and you also know what a fortnight in
Paris means to a country shopkeeper; it fires his blood. The theatre
every evening, women's dresses rustling up against you and continual
excitement; one goes almost mad with it. One sees nothing but dancers in
tights, actresses in very low dresses, round legs, fat shoulders, all
nearly within reach of one's hands, without daring, or being able, to
touch them, and one scarcely tastes food. When one leaves the city one's
heart is still all in a flutter and one's mind still exhilarated by a
sort of longing for kisses which tickles one's lips.
"Morin was in that condition when he took his ticket for La Rochelle by
the eight-forty night express. As he was walking up and down the
waiting-room at the station he stopped suddenly in front of a young lady
who was kissing an old one. She had her veil up, and Morin murmured with
delight: 'By Jove what a pretty woman!'
"When she had said 'good-by' to the old lady she went into the
waiting-room, and Morin followed her; then she went on the platform and
Morin still followed her; then she got into an empty carriage, and he
again followed her. There were very few travellers on the express. The
engine whistled and the train started. They were alone. Morin devoured
her with his eyes. She appeared to be about nineteen or twenty and was
fair, tall, with a bold look. She wrapped a railway rug round her and
stretched herself on the seat to sleep.
"Morin asked himself: 'I wonder who she is?' And a thousand conjectures,
a thousand projects went through his head. He said to himself: 'So many
adventures are told as happening on railway journeys that this may be one
that is going to present itself to me. Who knows? A piece of good luck
like that happens very suddenly, and perhaps I need only be a little
venturesome. Was it not Danton who said: "Audacity, more audacity and
always audacity"? If it was not Danton it was Mirabeau, but that does not
matter. But then I have no audacity, and that is the difficulty. Oh! If
one only knew, if one could only read people's minds! I will bet that
every day one passes by magnificent opportunities without knowing it,
though a gesture would be enough to let me know her mind.'
"Then he imagined to himself combinations which conducted him to triumph.
He pictured some chivalrous deed or merely some slight service which he
rendered her, a lively, gallant conversation which ended in a
"But he could find no opening, had no pretext, and he waited for some
fortunate circumstance, with his heart beating and his mind topsy-turvy.
The night passed and the pretty girl still slept, while Morin was
meditating his own fall. The day broke and soon the first ray of sunlight
appeared in the sky, a long, clear ray which shone on the face of the
sleeping girl and woke her. She sat up, looked at the country, then at
Morin and smiled. She smiled like a happy woman, with an engaging and
bright look, and Morin trembled. Certainly that smile was intended for
him; it was discreet invitation, the signal which he was waiting for.
That smile meant to say: 'How stupid, what a ninny, what a dolt, what a
donkey you are, to have sat there on your seat like a post all night!
"'Just look at me, am I not charming? And you have sat like that for the
whole night, when you have been alone with a pretty woman, you great
"She was still smiling as she looked at him; she even began to laugh; and
he lost his head trying to find something suitable to say, no matter
what. But he could think of nothing, nothing, and then, seized with a
coward's courage, he said to himself:
"'So much the worse, I will risk everything,' and suddenly, without the
slightest warning, he went toward her, his arms extended, his lips
protruding, and, seizing her in his arms, he kissed her.
"She sprang up immediately with a bound, crying out: 'Help! help!' and
screaming with terror; and then she opened the carriage door and waved
her arm out, mad with terror and trying to jump out, while Morin, who was
almost distracted and feeling sure that she would throw herself out, held
her by the skirt and stammered: 'Oh, madame! oh, madame!'
"The train slackened speed and then stopped. Two guards rushed up at the
young woman's frantic signals. She threw herself into their arms,
stammering: 'That man wanted—wanted—to—to—' And then she fainted.
"They were at Mauze station, and the gendarme on duty arrested Morin.
When the victim of his indiscreet admiration had regained her
consciousness, she made her charge against him, and the police drew it
up. The poor linen draper did not reach home till night, with a
prosecution hanging over him for an outrage to morals in a public place."
"At that time I was editor of the Fanal des Charentes, and I used to meet
Morin every day at the Cafe du Commerce, and the day after his adventure.
he came to see me, as he did not know what to do. I did not hide my
opinion from him, but said to him: 'You are no better than a pig. No
decent man behaves like that.'
"He cried. His wife had given him a beating, and he foresaw his trade
ruined, his name dragged through the mire and dishonored, his friends
scandalized and taking no notice of him. In the end he excited my pity,
and I sent for my colleague, Rivet, a jocular but very sensible little
man, to give us his advice.
"He advised me to see the public prosecutor, who was a friend of mine,
and so I sent Morin home and went to call on the magistrate. He told me
that the woman who had been insulted was a young lady, Mademoiselle
Henriette Bonnel, who had just received her certificate as governess in
Paris and spent her holidays with her uncle and aunt, who were very
respectable tradespeople in Mauze. What made Morin's case all the more
serious was that the uncle had lodged a complaint, but the public
official had consented to let the matter drop if this complaint were
withdrawn, so we must try and get him to do this.
"I went back to Morin's and found him in bed, ill with excitement and
distress. His wife, a tall raw-boned woman with a beard, was abusing him
continually, and she showed me into the room, shouting at me: 'So you
have come to see that pig of a Morin. Well, there he is, the darling!'
And she planted herself in front of the bed, with her hands on her hips.
I told him how matters stood, and he begged me to go and see the girl's
uncle and aunt. It was a delicate mission, but I undertook it, and the
poor devil never ceased repeating: 'I assure you I did not even kiss her;
no, not even that. I will take my oath to it!'
"I replied: 'It is all the same; you are nothing but a pig.' And I took a
thousand francs which he gave me to employ as I thought best, but as I
did not care to venture to her uncle's house alone, I begged Rivet to go
with me, which he agreed to do on condition that we went immediately, for
he had some urgent business at La Rochelle that afternoon. So two hours
later we rang at the door of a pretty country house. An attractive girl
came and opened the door to us assuredly the young lady in question, and
I said to Rivet in a low voice: 'Confound it! I begin to understand
"The uncle, Monsieur Tonnelet, subscribed to the Fanal, and was a fervent
political coreligionist of ours. He received us with open arms and
congratulated us and wished us joy; he was delighted at having the two
editors in his house, and Rivet whispered to me: 'I think we shall be
able to arrange the matter of that pig of a Morin for him.'
"The niece had left the room and I introduced the delicate subject. I
waved the spectre of scandal before his eyes; I accentuated the
inevitable depreciation which the young lady would suffer if such an
affair became known, for nobody would believe in a simple kiss, and the
good man seemed undecided, but he could not make up his mind about
anything without his wife, who would not be in until late that evening.
But suddenly he uttered an exclamation of triumph: 'Look here, I have an
excellent idea; I will keep you here to dine and sleep, and when my wife
comes home I hope we shall be able to arrange matters:
"Rivet resisted at first, but the wish to extricate that pig of a Morin
decided him, and we accepted the invitation, and the uncle got up
radiant, called his niece and proposed that we should take a stroll in
his grounds, saying: 'We will leave serious matters until the morning.'
Rivet and he began to talk politics, while I soon found myself lagging a
little behind with 'the girl who was really charming—charming—and with
the greatest precaution I began to speak to her about her adventure and
try to make her my ally. She did not, however, appear the least confused,
and listened to me like a person who was enjoying the whole thing very
"I said to her: 'Just think, mademoiselle, how unpleasant it will be for
you. You will have to appear in court, to encounter malicious looks, to
speak before everybody and to recount that unfortunate occurrence in the
railway carriage in public. Do you not think, between ourselves, that it
would have been much better for you to have put that dirty scoundrel back
in his place without calling for assistance, and merely to change your
carriage?' She began to laugh and replied: 'What you say is quite true,
but what could I do? I was frightened, and when one is frightened one
does not stop to reason with one's self. As soon as I realized the
situation I was very sorry, that I had called out, but then it was too
late. You must also remember that the idiot threw himself upon me like a
madman, without saying a word and looking like a lunatic. I did not even
know what he wanted of me.'
"She looked me full in the face without being nervous or intimidated and
I said to myself: 'She is a queer sort of girl, that: I can quite see how
that pig Morin came to make a mistake,' and I went on jokingly: 'Come,
mademoiselle, confess that he was excusable, for, after all, a man cannot
find himself opposite such a pretty girl as you are without feeling a
natural desire to kiss her.'
"She laughed more than ever and showed her teeth and said: 'Between the
desire and the act, monsieur, there is room for respect.' It was an odd
expression to use, although it was not very clear, and I asked abruptly:
'Well, now, suppose I were to kiss you, what would you do?' She stopped
to look at me from head to foot and then said calmly: 'Oh, you? That is
quite another matter.'
"I knew perfectly well, by Jove, that it was not the same thing at all,
as everybody in the neighborhood called me 'Handsome Labarbe'—I was
thirty years old in those days—but I asked her: 'And why, pray?'
She shrugged her shoulders and replied: 'Well! because you are not so
stupid as he is.' And then she added, looking at me slyly: 'Nor so ugly,
either: And before she could make a movement to avoid me I had implanted
a hearty kiss on her cheek. She sprang aside, but it was too late, and
then she said: 'Well, you are not very bashful, either! But don't do that
sort of thing again.'
"I put on a humble look and said in a low voice: 'Oh, mademoiselle! as
for me, if I long for one thing more than another it is to be summoned
before a magistrate for the same reason as Morin.'
"'Why?' she asked. And, looking steadily at her, I replied: 'Because you
are one of the most beautiful creatures living; because it would be an
honor and a glory for me to have wished to offer you violence, and
because people would have said, after seeing you: "Well, Labarbe has
richly deserved what he has got, but he is a lucky fellow, all the
"She began to laugh heartily again and said: 'How funny you are!' And she
had not finished the word 'funny' before I had her in my arms and was
kissing her ardently wherever I could find a place, on her forehead, on
her eyes, on her lips occasionally, on her cheeks, all over her head,
some part of which she was obliged to leave exposed, in spite of herself,
to defend the others; but at last she managed to release herself,
blushing and angry. 'You are very unmannerly, monsieur,' she said, 'and I
am sorry I listened to you.'
"I took her hand in some confusion and stammered out: 'I beg your pardon.
I beg your pardon, mademoiselle. I have offended you; I have acted like a
brute! Do not be angry with me for what I have done. If you knew—'
I vainly sought for some excuse, and in a few moments she said: 'There is
nothing for me to know, monsieur.' But I had found something to say, and
I cried: 'Mademoiselle, I love you!'
"She was really surprised and raised her eyes to look at me, and I went
on: 'Yes, mademoiselle, and pray listen to me. I do not know Morin, and I
do not care anything about him. It does not matter to me the least if he
is committed for trial and locked up meanwhile. I saw you here last year,
and I was so taken with you that the thought of you has never left me
since, and it does not matter to me whether you believe me or not. I
thought you adorable, and the remembrance of you took such a hold on me
that I longed to see you again, and so I made use of that fool Morin as a
pretext, and here I am. Circumstances have made me exceed the due limits
of respect, and I can only beg you to pardon me.'
"She looked at me to see if I was in earnest and was ready to smile
again. Then she murmured: 'You humbug!' But I raised my hand and said in
a sincere voice (and I really believe that I was sincere): 'I swear to
you that I am speaking the truth,' and she replied quite simply: 'Don't
"We were alone, quite alone, as Rivet and her uncle had disappeared down
a sidewalk, and I made her a real declaration of love, while I squeezed
and kissed her hands, and she listened to it as to something new and
agreeable, without exactly knowing how much of it she was to believe,
while in the end I felt agitated, and at last really myself believed what
I said. I was pale, anxious and trembling, and I gently put my arm round
her waist and spoke to her softly, whispering into the little curls over
her ears. She seemed in a trance, so absorbed in thought was she.
"Then her hand touched mine, and she pressed it, and I gently squeezed
her waist with a trembling, and gradually firmer, grasp. She did not move
now, and I touched her cheek with my lips, and suddenly without seeking
them my lips met hers. It was a long, long kiss, and it would have lasted
longer still if I had not heard a hm! hm! just behind me, at which she
made her escape through the bushes, and turning round I saw Rivet coming
toward me, and, standing in the middle of the path, he said without even
smiling: 'So that is the way you settle the affair of that pig of a
Morin.' And I replied conceitedly: 'One does what one can, my dear
fellow. But what about the uncle? How have you got on with him? I will
answer for the niece.' 'I have not been so fortunate with him,' he
"Whereupon I took his arm and we went indoors."
"Dinner made me lose my head altogether. I sat beside her, and my hand
continually met hers under the tablecloth, my foot touched hers and our
"After dinner we took a walk by moonlight, and I whispered all the tender
things I could think of to her. I held her close to me, kissed her every
moment, while her uncle and Rivet were arguing as they walked in front of
us. They went in, and soon a messenger brought a telegram from her aunt,
saying that she would not return until the next morning at seven o'clock
by the first train.
"'Very well, Henriette,' her uncle said, 'go and show the gentlemen their
rooms.' She showed Rivet his first, and he whispered to me: 'There was no
danger of her taking us into yours first.' Then she took me to my room,
and as soon as she was alone with me I took her in my arms again and
tried to arouse her emotion, but when she saw the danger she escaped out
of the room, and I retired very much put out and excited and feeling
rather foolish, for I knew that I should not sleep much, and I was
wondering how I could have committed such a mistake, when there was a
gentle knock at my door, and on my asking who was there a low voice
"I dressed myself quickly and opened the door, and she came in. 'I forgot
to ask you what you take in the morning,' she said; 'chocolate, tea or
coffee?' I put my arms round her impetuously and said, devouring her with
kisses: 'I will take—I will take—'
"But she freed herself from my arms, blew out my candle and disappeared
and left me alone in the dark, furious, trying to find some matches, and
not able to do so. At last I got some and I went into the passage,
feeling half mad, with my candlestick in my hand.
"What was I about to do? I did not stop to reason, I only wanted to find
her, and I would. I went a few steps without reflecting, but then I
suddenly thought: 'Suppose I should walk into the uncle's room what
should I say?' And I stood still, with my head a void and my heart
beating. But in a few moments I thought of an answer: 'Of course, I shall
say that I was looking for Rivet's room to speak to him about an
important matter,' and I began to inspect all the doors, trying to find
hers, and at last I took hold of a handle at a venture, turned it and
went in. There was Henriette, sitting on her bed and looking at me in
tears. So I gently turned the key, and going up to her on tiptoe I said:
'I forgot to ask you for something to read, mademoiselle.'
"I was stealthily returning to my room when a rough hand seized me and a
voice—it was Rivet's—whispered in my ear: 'So you have not
yet quite settled that affair of Morin's?'
"At seven o'clock the next morning Henriette herself brought me a cup of
chocolate. I never have drunk anything like it, soft, velvety, perfumed,
delicious. I could hardly take away my lips from the cup, and she had
hardly left the room when Rivet came in. He seemed nervous and irritable,
like a man who had not slept, and he said to me crossly:
"'If you go on like this you will end by spoiling the affair of that pig
of a Morin!'
"At eight o'clock the aunt arrived. Our discussion was very short, for
they withdrew their complaint, and I left five hundred francs for the
poor of the town. They wanted to keep us for the day, and they arranged
an excursion to go and see some ruins. Henriette made signs to me to
stay, behind her parents' back, and I accepted, but Rivet was determined
to go, and though I took him aside and begged and prayed him to do this
for me, he appeared quite exasperated and kept saying to me: 'I have had
enough of that pig of a Morin's affair, do you hear?'
"Of course I was obliged to leave also, and it was one of the hardest
moments of my life. I could have gone on arranging that business as long
as I lived, and when we were in the railway carriage, after shaking hands
with her in silence, I said to Rivet: 'You are a mere brute!' And he
replied: 'My dear fellow, you were beginning to annoy me confoundedly.'
"On getting to the Fanal office, I saw a crowd waiting for us, and as
soon as they saw us they all exclaimed: 'Well, have you settled the
affair of that pig of a Morin?' All La Rochelle was excited about it, and
Rivet, who had got over his ill-humor on the journey, had great
difficulty in keeping himself from laughing as he said: 'Yes, we have
managed it, thanks to Labarbe: And we went to Morin's.
"He was sitting in an easy-chair with mustard plasters on his legs and
cold bandages on his head, nearly dead with misery. He was coughing with
the short cough of a dying man, without any one knowing how he had caught
it, and his wife looked at him like a tigress ready to eat him, and as
soon as he saw us he trembled so violently as to make his hands and knees
shake, so I said to him immediately: 'It is all settled, you dirty scamp,
but don't do such a thing again.'
"He got up, choking, took my hands and kissed them as if they had
belonged to a prince, cried, nearly fainted, embraced Rivet and even
kissed Madame Morin, who gave him such a push as to send him staggering
back into his chair; but he never got over the blow; his mind had been
too much upset. In all the country round, moreover, he was called nothing
but 'that pig of a Morin,' and that epithet went through him like a
sword-thrust every time he heard it. When a street boy called after him
'Pig!' he turned his head instinctively. His friends also overwhelmed him
with horrible jokes and used to ask him, whenever they were eating ham,
'Is it a bit of yourself?' He died two years later.
"As for myself, when I was a candidate for the Chamber of Deputies in
1875, I called on the new notary at Fousserre, Monsieur Belloncle, to
solicit his vote, and a tall, handsome and evidently wealthy lady
received me. 'You do not know me again?' she said. And I stammered out:
'Why—no—madame.' 'Henriette Bonnel.' 'Ah!' And I felt myself
turning pale, while she seemed perfectly at her ease and looked at me
with a smile.
"As soon as she had left me alone with her husband he took both my hands,
and, squeezing them as if he meant to crush them, he said: 'I have been
intending to go and see you for a long time, my dear sir, for my wife has
very often talked to me about you. I know—yes, I know under what
painful circumstances you made her acquaintance, and I know also how
perfectly you behaved, how full of delicacy, tact and devotion you showed
yourself in the affair—' He hesitated and then said in a lower
tone, as if he had been saying something low and coarse, 'in the affair
of that pig of a Morin.'"