Chapter 51

Chapter LI:
What Actually Occurred at the Inn Called the Beau Paon.

In the first place, let us supply our readers with a few details about
the inn called Beau Paon. It owed its name to its sign, which
represented a peacock spreading its tail. But, in imitation of certain
painters who bestowed the face of a handsome young man on the serpent
which tempted Eve, the limner of the sign had conferred upon the peacock
the features of a woman. This famous inn, an architectural epigram
against that half of the human race which renders existence delightful,
was situated at Fontainebleau, in the first turning on the left-hand
side, which divides the road from Paris, the large artery that
constitutes in itself alone the entire town of Fontainebleau. The side
street in question was then known as the Rue de Lyon, doubtless because,
geographically, it led in the direction of the second capital of the
kingdom. The street itself was composed of two houses occupied by
persons of the class of tradespeople, the houses being separated by two
large gardens bordered with hedges running round them. Apparently,
however, there were three houses in the street. Let us explain,
notwithstanding appearances, how there were in fact only two. The inn of
the Beau Paon had its principal front towards the main street; but upon
the Rue de Lyon there were two ranges of buildings divided by courtyards,
which comprised sets of apartments for the reception of all classes of
travelers, whether on foot or on horseback, or even with their own
carriages; and in which could be supplied, not only board and lodging,
but also accommodation for exercise, or opportunities of solitude for
even the wealthiest courtiers, whenever, after having received some check
at the court, they wished to shut themselves up to their own society,
either to devour an affront, or to brood on revenge. From the windows of
this part of the building travelers could perceive, in the first place,
the street with the grass growing between the stones, which were being
gradually loosened by it; next the beautiful hedges of elder and thorn,
which embraced, as though within two green and flowery arms, the house of
which we have spoken; and then, in the spaces between those houses,
forming the groundwork of the picture, and appearing an almost impassable
barrier, a line of thick trees, the advanced sentinels of the vast forest
which extends in front of Fontainebleau. It was therefore easy, provided
one secured an apartment at the angle of the building, to obtain, by the
main street from Paris, a view of, as well as to hear, the passers-by and
the _fetes_; and, by the Rue de Lyon, to look upon and to enjoy the calm
of the country. And this without reckoning that, in cases of urgent