Voici la lettre qu’aurait pu
écrire George Bernard Shaw à Tristan Bernard. Comme on peut voir, l’usage – non
exhaustif - par les anglais de mots et d’ expressions françaises (en gras) est loin d’être négligeable et
peut servir à l’édification des gens qui, aujourd’hui, se sentent obligés
d’user, voire d’abuser, des termes anglais à-tout-va par effet de mode et
mimétisme.
Evidemment,
les anglais n’utilisent le français que dans trois registres principaux :
l’amour, la cuisine et la diplomatie, mais, dans la vie courante, il faut
avouer que cela occupe déjà pas mal de temps… !
“My dear friend,
It has been a long
time since I wished to give you a compte-rendu of
this affaire d’amour between Sir Robert Princeton and Mademoiselle Priscilla Moore. Sir Princeton was married to a real lady comme il faut, née Tudor, who helped him in his
efforts of seeing some beau monde,
notwithstanding was he a sort of nouveau riche. Everyone knew that it was a mariage
de convenance but in most of mésalliances, there is always some arrière-pensée.
Quite soon, our fellow met Priscilla Moore at a thé dansant and, being a bel esprit,
seduced her sans souci. Mlle Priscilla
Moore owned a charming pied-à-terre
somewhere in Kensington – this type of
very cozy nest situated in a London à
la mode area. I heard that during
summer warm nights, she would sleep on her balcony, à la belle étoile, entirely
naked…Hum! But revenons à nos
moutons! In fact, she was a kind of agent provocateur with a pretty good dose of savoir-faire.
She would regularly send to poste restante some billets doux to Robert whose wife soon started to chercher la femme! As it is de bon ton, Lady Princeton, instead of beginning a guerre à outrance to her husband, kept her sang froid and adopted a laisser-faire policy. She apparently forgave him for this
faux pas: noblesse oblige!
During a few months,
Robert believed he had carte blanche to meet Priscilla quite regularly ignoring that in case of double entente,
extreme discretion is de rigueur. On the contrary, he talked and exhibited himself à tort et à travers and, ça va sans dire, all London
was soon au courant, despite the noms de guerre he had given
to themselves: “Berton” as Robert
Princeton and “Primo” as Priscilla
Moore!
For Lady Princeton’s
part, she soon had enough of les on-dit about this enfant terrible, so,
with the help of Lady Cumberland – her éminence
grise -, she decided to prepare a coup de théâtre able to give her husband a coup
de grâce en règle that would leave
him hors de combat for long.
On the occasion of Robert’s
birthday, she organized a huge fancy ball at their hotel particulier inviting all that counted in
London, Miss Priscilla Moore included. She had ordered an enormous pièce montée to be brought and installed with
candles on the buffet just before ball opening. She also ordered
that the name of “Primo”be written inside the cake with some crème Chantilly.
When came the favourable
moment, Lady Princeton requested her guests to keep silent and, in a very nice mise en scène,
she invited her husband to give the cake
the very first cut. So did he and he was most surprised when he read his maitresse name lying in his plate. As all guests cheered him, he felt a je ne sais quoi as great panic and, just like in most general sauve qui peut, he rushed out
ventre à terre, jostling the concierge and followed by the other mauvais sujet.
Entre nous, the ball ended in a rather mournful ambiance, but, since, Robert
Princeton never saw Miss Priscilla Moore again. Affaire d’honneur?
Honi soit qui mal y pense! »
