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expedition, Jean and Guillaume, came out and said they were in my debt, and they complied with my slightest request. All the others were afraid of me. My silence, my absence, the calm and thoughtful way I expressed my thoughts gave me, wrongly, a reputation for wisdom that I was careful not to contradict. Such wisdom could not, at our age, be the fruit of experience: it must come from somewhere else. Judging by some of the fearful or even suspicious gazes people cast at me, I understood that many of them thought I had supernatural powers. In another era I would have been accused of witchcraft. Very early on I was able to gauge to what degree human qualities conceal danger, and how reckless it can be to flaunt them. All my life I have experienced this. Talent, fulfillment, and success will make you an enemy of the human race: the more it admires you, the less it finds itself in you, so it will prefer to keep you at a distance. Only crooks, given the mundane origins of their fortune, acquire that fortune without severing ties with others of their kind; they might even win their friendship.
    However, the esteem I enjoyed among the boys did have its advantages—in particular, that of making me interesting to girls. Jean and Guillaume brought me daily reports of what this or that girl had said in her brother’s presence, proof of their interest in me.
    The year I turned fourteen, I shot up. I now had a scraggly beard that was brown like my hair, and I had to shave three times a week. The strange deformity on my chest that had been visible from birth became more pronounced: it was as if someone’s fist had punched a hollow in my chest. And while this abnormality had no effect on my breathing, the doctor recommended I avoid any physical effort, and I must never run. These instructions gave me an additional reason to have my right-hand men carry out any tasks that fell to me.
    The girls seemed to appreciate my slowness and immobility. The strength one derives from one’s power over others is incomparably more efficient than the one that comes from within one’s own body. Physical power can arouse animal desire. It is precious for a lover. But at an age where another person’s attraction is measured by the ability to endure (even eternally, when marriage is at stake), a man’s authority is more attractive than his strength. Thus my hidden weakness, this bodily defect I concealed beneath padded doublets and flowing shirts, merely increased my restraint and the flattering reputation that ensued.
    I did not pay a great deal of attention to these issues until I, too, was stricken with love and a passionate desire for conquest.
    In our new neighborhood, a short way from our house, there lived a family whom my parents looked up to. Over time, I was beginning to realize that not all burghers had similar fortunes. In spite of the admiration I had for my father, I was forced to conclude that he was by no means in the upper ranks of our class. Drapers, such as Guillaume’s father, Messire de Varye, were more illustrious. Certain tradesmen, particularly those who dealt in wine and grain, had built houses that were far bigger and more luxurious than our own. Higher still were those whose profession was money. One of our neighbors was a moneychanger; his wealth had enabled him to acquire the position of valet to the Duke. He did not merely go to the palace, like my father did, in order to solicit something and be treated rudely. He had an official place, albeit a modest one, in the Duke’s entourage. This was enough, in my opinion, to give him considerable prestige.
    The man was a widower. He had three children from his first wife. A daughter was born from his second marriage, and she was roughly two years younger than me. She was a sickly girl who went around with her eyes cast down, and she seemed to be afraid of everything. The only memory I had of her was of seeing her scream with terror one day, when a huge