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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:46:56 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:46:56 -0700 |
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diff --git a/22059-h/22059-h.htm b/22059-h/22059-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..09f0d8a --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/22059-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3079 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + Balthasar, by Anatole France + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <div style='text-align:center'> + *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BALTHASAR, BY ANATOLE FRANCE *** + </div> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="titlepage (102K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h1> + BALTHASAR + </h1> + <h1> + And Other Works + </h1> + <h2> + By Anatole France + </h2> + <h3> + Translated by Mrs. John Lane <br /> <br /> Edited by Frederic Chapman + </h3> + <h5> + London: John Lane: MCMIX + </h5> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> BALTHASAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE CURÉ’S MIGNONETTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> M. PIGEONNEAU </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE DAUGHTER OF LILITH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> LAETA ACILIA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> I. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> II. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> THE RED EGG </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="016 (101K)" src="images/016.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + BALTHASAR + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + TO THE VICOMTE EUGÈNE MELCHIOR DE VOGUE + + “Magos regos fere habuit Oriens.” {*} + —Tertullian. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + In those days Balthasar, whom the Greeks called Saracin, reigned in + Ethiopia. He was black, but comely of countenance. He had a simple soul + and a generous heart. + </p> + <p> + The third year of his reign, which was the + twenty-second of his age, he left his dominions on a visit to Balkis, + Queen of Sheba. The mage Sembobitis and the eunuch Menkera accompanied + him. He had in his train seventy-five camels bearing cinnamon, myrrh, gold + dust, and elephants’ tusks. + </p> + <p> + As they rode, Sembobitis instructed him in the influences of the + planets,{*} as well as in the virtues of precious stones, and Menkera sang + to him canticles from the sacred mysteries. He paid but little heed to + them, but amused himself instead watching the jackals with their ears + pricked up, sitting erect on the edge of the desert. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * The East commonly held kings versed in magic. +</pre> + <p> + At last, after a march of twelve days, Balthasar became conscious of the + fragrance of roses, and very soon they saw the gardens that surround the + city of Sheba. On their way they passed young girls dancing under + pomegranate trees in full bloom. + </p> + <p> + “The dance,” said Sembobitis the mage, “is a prayer.” + </p> + <p> + “One could sell these women for a great price,” said Menkera the eunuch. + </p> + <p> + As they entered the city they were amazed at the extent of the sheds and + warehouses and workshops that lay before them, and also at the immense + quantities of merchandise with which these were piled. + </p> + <p> + For a long time they walked through streets thronged with chariots, street + porters, donkeys and donkey-drivers, until all at once the marble walls, + the purple awnings and the gold cupolas of the palace of Balkis, lay + spread out before them. + </p> + <p> + The Queen of Sheba received them in a courtyard cooled by jets of perfumed + water which fell with a tinkling cadence like a shower of pearls. + </p> + <p> + Smiling, she stood before them in a jewelled robe. + </p> + <p> + At sight of her Balthasar was greatly troubled. + </p> + <p> + She seemed to him lovelier than a dream and more beautiful than desire. + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” and Sembobitis spoke under his breath, “remember to conclude a + good commercial treaty with the queen.” + </p> + <p> + “Have a care, my lord,” Menkera added. “It is said she employs magic with + which to gain the love of men.” + </p> + <p> + Then, having prostrated themselves, the mage and the eunuch retired. + </p> + <p> + Balthasar, left alone with Balkis, tried to speak; he opened his mouth but + he could not utter a word. He said to himself, “The queen will be angered + at my silence.” + </p> + <p> + But the queen still smiled and looked not at all angry. She was the first + to speak with a voice sweeter than the sweetest music. + </p> + <p> + “Be welcome, and sit down at my side.” And with a slender finger like a + ray of white light she pointed to the purple cushions on the ground. + Balthasar sat down, gave a great sigh, and grasping a cushion in each hand + he cried hastily: + </p> + <p> + “Madam, I would these two cushions were two giants, your enemies; I would + wring their necks.” + </p> + <p> + And as he spoke he clutched the cushions with such violence in his hands + that the delicate stuff cracked and out flew a cloud of snow-white down. + One of the tiny feathers swayed a moment in the air and then alighted on + the bosom of the queen. + </p> + <p> + “My lord Balthasar,” Balkis said, blushing; “why do you wish to kill + giants?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I love you,” said Balthasar. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” Balkis asked, “is the water good in the wells of your capital?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Balthasar replied in some surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I am also curious to know,” Balkis continued, “how a dry conserve of + fruit is made in Ethiopia?” + </p> + <p> + The king did not know what to answer. + </p> + <p> + “Now please tell me, please,” she urged. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon with a mighty effort of memory he tried to describe how + Ethiopian cooks preserve quinces in honey. But she did not listen. And + suddenly, she interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “My lord, it is said that you love your neighbour, Queen Candace. Is she + more beautiful than I am? Do not deceive me.” + </p> + <p> + “More beautiful than you, madam,” Balthasar cried as he fell at the feet + of Balkis, “how could that possibly be!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, her eyes? her mouth, her colour? her throat?” the queen + continued. + </p> + <p> + With his arms outstretched towards her, Balthasar cried: + </p> + <p> + “Give me but the little feather that has fallen on your neck and in return + you shall have half my kingdom as well as the wise Sembobitis and Menkera + the eunuch.” + </p> + <p> + But she rose and fled with a ripple of dear laughter. + </p> + <p> + When the mage and the eunuch returned they found their master plunged deep + in thought which was not his custom. + </p> + <p> + “My lord!” asked Sembobitis, “have you concluded a good commercial + treaty?” + </p> + <p> + That day Balthasar supped with the Queen of Sheba and drank the wine of + the palm-tree. + </p> + <p> + “It is true, then,” said Balkis as they supped together, “that Queen + Guidace is not so beautiful as I?” + </p> + <p> + “Queen Candace is black,” replied Balthasar. + </p> + <p> + Balkis looked expressively at Balthasar. + </p> + <p> + “One may be black and yet not ill-looking,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Balkis!” cried the king. + </p> + <p> + He said no more, but seized her in his arms, and the head of the queen + sank back under the pressure of his lips. But he saw that she was weeping. + Thereupon he spoke to her in the low, caressing tones that nurses use to + their nurslings. He called her his little blossom and his little star. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you weep?” he asked. “And what must one do to dry your tears? If + you have a desire tell me and it shall be fulfilled.” + </p> + <p> + She ceased weeping, but she was sunk deep in thought He implored her a + long time to tell him her desire. And at last she spoke. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to know fear.” + </p> + <p> + And as Balthasar did not seem to understand, she explained to him that for + a long time past she had greatly longed to face some unknown danger, but + she could not, for the men and gods of Sheba watched over her. + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” she added with a sigh, “during the night I long to feel the + delicious chill of terror penetrate my flesh. To have my hair stand up on + my head with horror. O! it would be such joy to be afraid!” + </p> + <p> + She twined her arms about the neck of the dusky king, and said with the + voice of a pleading child: + </p> + <p> + “Night has come. Let us go through the town in disguise. Are you willing?” + </p> + <p> + He agreed. She ran to the window at once and looked though the lattice + into the square below. + </p> + <p> + “A beggar is lying against the palace wall. Give him your garments and ask + him in exchange for his camel-hair turban and the coarse cloth girt about + his loins. Be quick and I will dress myself.” + </p> + <p> + And she ran out of the banqueting-hall joyfully clapping her hands one + against the other. + </p> + <p> + Balthasar took off his linen tunic embroidered with gold and girded + himself with the skirt of the beggar. It gave him the look of a real + slave. The queen soon reappeared dressed in the blue seamless garment of + the women who work in the fields. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” she said. + </p> + <p> + And she dragged Balthasar along the narrow corridors towards a little door + which opened on the fields. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="023 (100K)" src="images/023.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + The night was dark, and in the darkness of the night Balkis looked very + small. + </p> + <p> + She led Balthasar to one of the taverns where wastrels and street porters + foregathered along with prostitutes. The two sat down at a table and saw + through the foul air by the light of a fetid lamp, unclean human brutes + attack each other with fists and knives for a woman or a cup of fermented + liquor, while others with clenched fists snored under the tables. The + tavern-keeper, lying on a pile of sacking, watched the drunken brawlers + with a prudent eye. Balkis, having seen some salt fish hanging from the + rafters of the ceiling, said to her companion: + </p> + <p> + “I much wish to eat one of these fish with pounded onions.” + </p> + <p> + Balthasar gave the order. When she had eaten he discovered that he had + forgotten to bring money. It gave him no concern, for he thought that he + could slip out with her without paying the reckoning. But the + tavern-keeper barred their way, calling them a vile slave and a worthless + she-ass. Balthasar struck him to the ground with a blow of his fist. + Whereupon some of the drinkers drew their knives and flung themselves on + the two strangers. But the black man, seizing an enormous pestle used to + pound Egyptian onions, knocked down two of his assailants and forced the + others back. And all the while he was conscious of the warmth of Balkis’ + body as she cowered close against him; it was this which made him + invincible. + </p> + <p> + The tavern-keeper’s friends, not daring to approach again, flung at him + from the end of the pot-house jars of oil, pewter vessels, burning lamps, + and even the huge bronze cauldron in which a whole sheep was stewing. This + cauldron fell with a horrible crash on Balthasar’s head and split his + skull. For a moment he stood as if dazed, and then summoning all his + strength he flung the cauldron back with such force that its weight was + increased tenfold. The shock of the hurtling metal was mingled with + indescribable roars and death rattles. Profiting by the terror of the + survivors, and fearing that Balkis might be injured, he seized her in his + arms and fled with her through the silence and darkness of the lonely + byways. The stillness of night enveloped the earth, and the fugitives + heard the clamour of the women and the carousers, who pursued them at + haphazard, die away in the darkness. Soon they heard nothing more than the + sound of dripping blood as it fell from the brow of Balthasar on the + breast of Balkis. + </p> + <p> + “I love you,” the queen murmured. + </p> + <p> + And by the light of the moon as it emerged from behind a cloud the king + saw the white and liquid radiance of her half-closed eyes. They descended + the dry bed of a stream, and suddenly Balthasar’s foot slipped on the moss + and they fell together locked in each other’s embrace. They seemed to sink + forever into a delicious void, and the world of the living ceased to exist + for them. They were still plunged in the enchanting forgetfulness of time, + space and separate existence, when at daybreak the gazelles came to drink + out of the hollows among the stones. + </p> + <p> + At that moment a passing band of brigands discovered the two lovers lying + on the moss. + </p> + <p> + “They are poor,” they said, “but we shall sell them for a great price, for + they are so young and beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + Upon which they surrounded them, and having bound them they tied them to + the tail of an ass and proceeded on their way. + </p> + <p> + The black man so bound threatened the brigands with death. But Balkis, who + shivered in the cool, fresh air of the morning, only smiled, as if at + something unseen. + </p> + <p> + They tramped through frightful solitudes until the heat of mid-day made + itself felt. The sun was already high when the brigands unbound their + prisoners, and, letting them sit in the shade of a rock, threw them some + mouldy bread which Balthasar disdained to touch but which Balkis ate + greedily. + </p> + <p> + She laughed. And when the brigand chief asked why she laughed, she + replied: + </p> + <p> + “I laugh at the thought that I shall have you all hanged.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” cried the chief, “a curious assertion in the mouth of a scullery + wench like you, my love! Doubtless you will hang us all by aid of that + blackamoor gallant of yours?” + </p> + <p> + At this insult Balthasar flew into a fearful rage, and he flung himself on + the brigand and clutched his neck with such violence that he nearly + strangled him. + </p> + <p> + But the other drew his knife and plunged it into his body to the very + hilt. The poor king rolled to earth, and as he turned on Balkis a dying + glance his sight faded. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + At this moment was heard an uproar of men, horses and weapons, and Balkis + recognised her trusty Abner who had come at the head of her guards to + rescue his queen, of whose mysterious disappearance he had heard during + the night. + </p> + <p> + Three times he prostrated himself at the feet of Balkis, and ordered the + litter to advance which had been prepared to receive her. In the meantime + the guards bound the hands of the brigands. The queen turned towards the + chief and said gently: “You cannot accuse me of having made you an idle + promise, my friend, when I said you would be hanged.” + </p> + <p> + The mage Sembobitis and Menkera the eunuch, who stood beside Abner, gave + utterance to terrible cries when they saw their king lying motionless on + the ground with a knife in his stomach. They raised him with great care. + Sembobitis, who was highly versed in the science of medicine, saw that he + still breathed. He applied a temporary bandage while Menkera wiped the + foam from the king’s lips. Then they bound him to a horse and led him + gently to the palace of the queen. + </p> + <p> + For fifteen days Balthasar lay in the agonies of delirium. He raved + without ceasing of the steaming cauldron and the moss in the ravine, and + he incessantly cried aloud for Balkis. At last, on the sixteenth day, he + opened his eyes and saw at his bedside Sembobitis and Menkera, but he did + not see the queen. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she? What is she doing?” + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” replied Menkera, “she is closeted with the King of Comagena.” + </p> + <p> + “They are doubtless agreeing to an exchange of merchandise,” added the + sage Sembobitis. + </p> + <p> + “But be not so disturbed, my lord, or you will redouble your fever.” + </p> + <p> + “I must see her,” cried Balthasar. And he flew towards the apartments of + the queen, and neither the sage nor the eunuch could restrain him. On + nearing the bedchamber he beheld the King of Comagena come forth covered + with gold and glittering like the sun. Balkis, smiling and with eyes + closed, lay on a purple couch. “My Balkis, my Balkis!” cried Balthasar. + She did not even turn her head but seemed to prolong a dream. + </p> + <p> + Balthasar approached and took her hand which she rudely snatched away. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Do you ask?” the black king answered, and burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + She turned on him her hard, calm eyes. + </p> + <p> + Then he realised that she had forgotten everything, and he reminded her of + the night of the stream. + </p> + <p> + “In truth, my lord,” said she, “I do not know to what you refer. The wine + of the palm does not agree with you. You must have dreamed.” + </p> + <p> + “What,” cried the unhappy king, wringing his hands, “your kisses, and the + knife which has left its mark on me, are these dreams?” + </p> + <p> + She rose; the jewels on her robe made a sound as of hail and flashed forth + lightnings. + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” she said, “it is the hour my council assembles. I have not the + leisure to interpret the dreams of your suffering brain. Take some repose. + Farewell.” + </p> + <p> + Balthasar felt himself sinking, but with a supreme effort not to betray + his weakness to this wicked woman, he ran to his room where he fell in a + swoon and his wound re-opened. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + For three weeks he remained unconscious and as one dead, but having on the + twenty-second day recovered his senses, he seized the hand of Sembobitis, + who, with Menkera, watched over him, and cried, weeping: + </p> + <p> + “O, my friends, how happy you are, one to be old and the other the same as + old. But no! there is no happiness on earth, everything is bad, for love + is an evil and Balkis is wicked.” + </p> + <p> + “Wisdom confers happiness,” replied Sembobitis. “I will try it,” said + Balthasar. “But let us depart at once for Ethiopia.” And as he had lost + all he loved he resolved to consecrate himself to wisdom and to become a + mage. If this decision gave him no especial pleasure it at least restored + to him something of tranquillity. Every evening, seated on the terrace of + his palace in company with the sage Sembobitis and Menkera the eunuch, he + gazed at the palm-trees standing motionless against the horizon, or + watched the crocodiles by the light of the moon float down the Nile like + trunks of trees. + </p> + <p> + “One never wearies of admiring the beauties of Nature,” said Sembobitis. + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless,” said Balthasar, “but there are other things in Nature more + beautiful even than palm-trees and crocodiles.” + </p> + <p> + This he said thinking of Balkis. But Sembobitis, who was old, said: + </p> + <p> + “There is of course the phenomenon of the rising of the Nile which I have + explained. Man is created to understand.” + </p> + <p> + “He is created to love,” replied Balthasar sighing. “There are things + which cannot be explained.” + </p> + <p> + “And what may those be?” asked Sembobitis. + </p> + <p> + “A woman’s treason,” the king replied. + </p> + <p> + Balthasar, however, having decided to become a mage, had a tower built + from the summit of which might be discerned many kingdoms and the infinite + spaces of Heaven. The tower was constructed of brick and rose high above + all other towers. It took no less than two years to build, and Balthasar + expended in its construction the entire treasure of the king, his father. + Every night he climbed to the top of this tower and there he studied the + heavens under the guidance of the sage Sembobitis. + </p> + <p> + “The constellations of the heavens disclose our destiny,” said Sembobitis. + </p> + <p> + And he replied: + </p> + <p> + “It must be admitted nevertheless that these signs are obscure. But while + I study them I forget Balkis, and that is a great boon.” + </p> + <p> + And among truths most useful to know, the mage taught that the stars are + fixed like nails in the arch of the sky, and that there are five planets, + namely: Bel, Merodach, and Nebo, which are male, while Sin and Mylitta are + female. + </p> + <p> + “Silver,” he further explained, “corresponds to Sin, which is the moon, + iron to Merodach, and tin to Bel.” + </p> + <p> + And the worthy Balthasar answered: “Such is the kind of knowledge I wish + to acquire. While I study astronomy I think neither of Balkis nor anything + else on earth. The sciences are benificent; they keep men from thinking. + Teach me the knowledge, Sembobitis, which destroys all feeling in men and + I will raise you to great honour among my people.” + </p> + <p> + This was the reason that Sembobitis taught the king wisdom. + </p> + <p> + He taught him the power of incantation, according to the principles of + Astrampsychos, Gobryas and Pazatas. And the more Balthasar studied the + twelve houses of the sun, the less he thought of Balkis, and Menkera, + observing this, was filled with a great joy. + </p> + <p> + “Acknowledge, my lord, that Queen Balkis under her golden robes has little + cloven feet like a goat’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Who ever told you such nonsense?” asked the King. + </p> + <p> + “My lord, it is the common report both in Sheba and Ethiopia,” replied the + eunuch. “It is universally said that Queen Balkis has a shaggy leg and a + foot made of two black horns.” + </p> + <p> + Balthasar shrugged his shoulders. He knew that the legs and feet of Balkis + were like the legs and feet of all other women and perfect in their + beauty. And yet the mere idea spoiled the remembrance of her whom he had + so greatly loved. He felt a grievance against Balkis that her beauty was + not without blemish in the imagination of those who knew nothing about it. + At the thought that he had possessed a woman who, though in reality + perfectly formed, passed as a monstrosity, he was seized with such a sense + of repugnance that he had no further desire to see Balkis again. Balthasar + had a simple soul, but love is a very complex emotion. + </p> + <p> + From that day on the king made great progress both in magic and astrology. + He studied the conjunction of the stars with extreme care, and he drew + horoscopes with an accuracy equal to that of Sembobitis himself. + </p> + <p> + “Sembobitis,” he asked, “are you willing to answer with your head for the + truth of my horoscopes?” + </p> + <p> + And the sage Sembobitis replied: + </p> + <p> + “My lord, science is infallible, but the learned often err.” + </p> + <p> + Balthasar was endowed with fine natural sense. He said: + </p> + <p> + “Only that which is true is divine, and what is divine is hidden from us. + In vain we search for truth. And yet I have discovered a new star in the + sky. It is a beautiful star, and it seems alive; and when it sparkles it + looks like a celestial eye that blinks gently. I seem to hear it call to + me. Happy, happy, happy is he who is born under this star, See, + Sembobitis, how this charming and splendid star looks at us.” + </p> + <p> + But Sembobitis did not see the star because he would not see it. Wise and + old, he did not like novelties. + </p> + <p> + And alone in the silence of night Balthasar repeated: “Happy, happy, happy + he who is born under this star.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="035 (89K)" src="images/035.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + The rumour spread over all Ethiopia and the neighbouring kingdoms that + King Balthasar had ceased to love Balkis. + </p> + <p> + When the tidings reached the country of Sheba, Balkis was as indignant as + if she had been betrayed. She ran to the King of Comagena who was + employing his time in forgetting his country in the city of Sheba. + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” she cried, “do you know what I have just heard? Balthasar + loves me no longer!” + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter,” said the King of Comagena, “since we love one + another?” + </p> + <p> + “But do you not feel how this blackamoor has insulted me?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the King of Comagena, “I do not.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon she drove him ignominiously out of her presence, and ordered her + grand vizier to prepare for a journey into Ethiopia. + </p> + <p> + “We shall set out this very night. And I shall cut off your head if all is + not ready by sundown.” + </p> + <p> + But when she was alone she began to sob. + </p> + <p> + “I love him! He loves me no longer, and I love him,” she sighed in the + sincerity of her heart. + </p> + <p> + And one night, when on his tower watching the miraculous star, Balthasar, + casting his eyes towards earth, saw along black line sinuously curving + over the distant sands of the desert like an army of ants. Little by + little what seemed to be ants grew larger and sufficiently distinct for + the king to be able to recognise horses, camels and elephants. + </p> + <p> + The caravan having approached the city, Balthasar distinguished the + glittering scimitars and the black horses of the guards of the Queen of + Sheba. He even recognised the queen herself, and he was profoundly + disturbed, for he felt that he would again love her. The star shone in the + zenith with a marvellous brilliancy. Below, extended on a litter of purple + and gold, Balkis looked small and brilliant like the star. + </p> + <p> + Balthasar was conscious of being drawn towards her by some terrible power. + Still he turned his head away with a desperate effort, and lifting his + eyes he again saw the star. Thereupon the star spoke and said: “Glory to + God in the Heavens and peace on earth to men of good will! + </p> + <p> + “Take a measure of myrrh, gentle King Balthasar, and follow me. I will + guide thee to the feet of a little child who is about to be born in a + stable between an ass and an ox. + </p> + <p> + “And this little child is the King of Kings. He will comfort all those who + need comforting. + </p> + <p> + “He calls thee to Him, O Balthasar, thou whose soul is as dark as thy + face, but whose heart is as guileless as the heart of a child. + </p> + <p> + “He has chosen thee because thou hast suffered, and He will give thee + riches, happiness and love. + </p> + <p> + “He will say to thee: ‘Be poor joyfully, for that is true riches.’ He will + also say to thee: ‘True happiness is in the renunciation of happiness. + Love Me and love none other but Me, because I alone am love.’” + </p> + <p> + At these words a divine peace fell like a flood of light over the dark + face of the king. + </p> + <p> + Balthasar listened with rapture to the star. He felt himself becoming a + new man. + </p> + <p> + Prostrate beside him, Sembobitis and Menkera worshipped, their faces + touching the stone. + </p> + <p> + Queen Balkis watched Balthasar. She realised that never again would there + be love for her in that heart filled with a love divine. She turned white + with rage and gave orders for the caravan to return at once to the land of + Sheba. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the star had ceased to speak, Balthasar and his companions + descended from the tower. + </p> + <p> + Then, having prepared a measure of myrrh, they formed a caravan and + departed in the direction towards which they were guided by the star. They + journeyed a long time through unknown countries, the star always + journeying in front of them. + </p> + <p> + One day, finding themselves in a place where three roads met, they saw two + kings advance accompanied by a numerous retinue; one was young and fair of + face. He greeted Balthasar and said: + </p> + <p> + “My name is Gaspar. I am a king, and I bear gold as a gift to the child + that is about to be born in Bethlehem of Judea.” + </p> + <p> + The second king advanced in turn. He was an old man, and his white beard + covered his breast. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Melchior,” he said, “and I am a king, and I bring frankincense + to the holy child who is to teach Truth to mankind.” + </p> + <p> + “I am bound whither you are,” said Balthasar. “I have conquered my lust, + and for that reason the star has spoken to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I,” said Melchior, “have conquered my pride, and that is why I have been + called.” + </p> + <p> + “I,” said Gaspar, “have conquered my cruelty, and for that reason I go + with you.” + </p> + <p> + And the three mages proceeded on their journey together. The star which + they had seen in the East preceded them until, arriving above the place + where the child lay, it stood still. And seeing the star standing still + they rejoiced with a great joy. + </p> + <p> + And, entering the house they found the child with Mary his mother, and + prostrating themselves, they worshipped him. And opening their treasures + they offered him gold, frankincense and myrrh, as it is written in the + Gospel. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="042 (112K)" src="images/042.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE CURÉ’S MIGNONETTE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + TO JULES LEMAÎTRE +</pre> + <p> + In a village of the Bocage I once knew a curé, a holy man who denied + himself every indulgence and who cheerfully practised the virtue of + renunciation, and knew no joy but that of sacrifice. In his garden he + cultivated fruit-trees, vegetables and medicinal plants, but fearing + beauty even in flowers, he would have neither roses nor jasmine. He only + allowed himself the innocent luxury of a few tufts of mignonette whose + twisted stems, so modestly flower-crowned, would not distract his + attention as he read his breviary among his cabbage-plots under the sky of + our dear Father in Heaven. + </p> + <p> + The holy man had so little distrust of his mignonette that he would often + in passing pick a spray and inhale its fragrance for a long time. All the + plant asked was to be permitted to grow. If one spray was cut, four grew + in its place. So much so, indeed, that, the devil aiding, the priest’s + mignonette soon covered a vast extent of his little garden. It overflowed + into the paths and pulled at the good priest’s cassock as he passed, + until, distracted by the foolish plant, he would pause as often as twenty + times an hour while he read or said his prayers. + </p> + <p> + From springtime until autumn the presbytery was redolent of mignonette. + Behold what we may come to and how feeble we are! Not without reason do we + say that all our natural inclinations lead us towards sin! The man of God + had succeeded in guarding his eyes, but he had left his nostrils + undefended, and so the devil, as it were, caught him by the nose. This + saint now inhaled the fragrance of mignonette with avidity and lust, that + is to say, with that sinful instinct which makes us long for the enjoyment + of natural pleasures and which leads us into all sorts of temptations. + </p> + <p> + Henceforth he seemed to take less delight in the odours of Paradise and + the perfumes which are our Lady’s merits. His holiness dwindled, and he + might, perhaps, have sunk into voluptuousness and become little by little + like those lukewarm souls which Heaven rejects had not succour come to him + in the nick of time. + </p> + <p> + Once, long ago, in the Thebaid, an angel stole from a hermit a cup of gold + which still bound the holy man to the vanities of earth. A similar mercy + was vouchsafed to this priest of the Bocage. A white hen scratched the + earth about the mignonette with such good-will that it all died. + </p> + <p> + We are not informed whence this bird came. As for myself, I am inclined to + believe that the angel who in the desert stole the hermit’s cup + transformed himself into a white hen on purpose to destroy the only + obstacle which barred the good priest’s path towards perfection. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="048 (114K)" src="images/048.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + M. PIGEONNEAU + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + TO GILBERT AUGUSTIN-THIERRY +</pre> + <p> + I have, as everybody knows, devoted my whole life to Egyptian archaeology. + I should be very ungrateful to my country, to science, and to my-self, if + I regretted the profession to which I was called. In my early youth and + which I have followed with honour these forty years. My labours have not + been in vain. I may say, without flattering myself, that my article on <i>The + Handle of an Egyptian mirror in the Museum of the Louvre</i> may still be + consulted with profit, though it dates back to the beginning of my career. + </p> + <p> + As for the exhaustive studies which I subsequently devoted to one of the + bronze weights found in 1851 in the excavations at the Serapeium, it would + be ungracious for me not to think well of them, as they opened for me the + doors of the Institute. + </p> + <p> + Encouraged by the flattering reception with which my researches of this + nature were received by many of my new colleagues, I was tempted for a + moment to treat in one comprehensive work of the weights and measures in + use at Alexandria in the reign of Ptolemy Auletes (80-52). I soon + recognised, however, that a subject so general could not be dealt with by + the really profound student, and that positive science could not approach + it without running a risk of incurring all sorts of mischances. I felt + that in investigating several subjects at once I was forsaking the + fundamental principles of archaeology. If to-day I confess my mistake, if + I acknowledge the incredible enthusiasm with which I was inspired by a far + too ambitious scheme, I do so for the sake of the young, who will thus + learn by my example to conquer their imagination. It is our most cruel + foe. The student who has not succeeded in stifling it is lost for ever to + erudition. I still tremble to think in what depths I was nearly plunged by + my adventurous spirit. I was within an ace of what one calls history. What + a downfall! I should have sunk into art. For history is only art, or, at + best, a false science. Who to-day does not know that the historians + preceded the archaeologists, as astrologers preceded the astronomers, as + the alchemists preceded the chemists, and as the monkeys preceded men? + Thank Heaven! I escaped with a mere fright. + </p> + <p> + My third work, I hasten to say, was wisely planned. It was a monograph + entitled, <i>On the toilet of an Egyptian lady of the Middle Empire from + an unpublished picture</i>. I treated the subject so as to avoid all side + issues, and I did not permit any generalising to intrude itself. I guarded + myself against those considerations, comparisons and views with which + certain of my colleagues have marred the exposition of their most valuable + discoveries. But why should a work planned so sanely have met with so + fantastic a fate? By what freak of destiny should it have proved the cause + of the monstrous aberration of my mind? But let me not anticipate events + nor confuse dates. My dissertation was intended to be read at a public + sitting of the five academies, a distinction all the more precious, as it + rarely falls to the lot of works of this character. These academic + gatherings have for some years past been largely attended by people of + fashion. + </p> + <p> + The day I delivered my lecture the hall was crowded by a distinguished + audience. Women were there in great numbers. Lovely faces and brilliant + toilettes graced the galleries. My discourse was listened to with respect. + It was not interrupted by those thoughtless and noisy demonstrations which + naturally follow mere literary productions. No, the public preserved an + attitude more in harmony with the nature of the work presented to them. + They were serious and grave. + </p> + <p> + As I paused between the phrases the better to disentangle the different + trains of thought, I had leisure to examine behind my spectacles the + entire hall. I can truly say that not the faintest smile could be seen on + any lips. On the contrary, even the freshest faces wore an expression of + austerity. I seemed to have ripened all their intellects as if by magic. + Here and there while I read some young people whispered to their + neighbours. They were probably debating some special point treated of in + my discourse. + </p> + <p> + More than that, a beautiful young creature of twenty-two or twenty-four, + seated in the left corner of the north balcony, was listening with great + attention and taking notes. Her face had a delicacy of features and a + mobility of expression truly remarkable. The attention with which she + listened to my words gave an added charm to her singular face. She was not + alone. A big, robust man, who, like the Assyrian kings, wore a long curled + beard and long black hair, stood beside her and occasionally spoke to her + in a low voice. My attention, which at first was divided amongst my entire + audience, concentrated itself little by little on the young woman. She + inspired me, I confess, with an interest which certain of my colleagues + might consider unworthy of a scientific mind such as mine, though I feel + sure that none of them under similar circumstances would have been more + indifferent than I. As I proceeded she scribbled in a little note-book; + and as she listened to my discourse one could see that she was visibly + swayed by the most contradictory emotions; she seemed to pass from + satisfaction and joy to surprise and even anxiety. I examined her with + increasing curiosity. Would to God I had set eyes on her and her only that + day under the cupola! + </p> + <p> + I had nearly finished; there hardly remained more than twenty-five or + thirty pages at most to read when suddenly my eyes encountered those of + the man with the Assyrian beard. How can I explain to you what happened + then, seeing that I cannot explain it to myself? All I can say is that the + glance of this personage put me at once into a state of indescribable + agitation. The eye-balls fixed on me were of a greenish colour. I could + not turn my own away. I stood there dumb and open-mouthed. As I had + stopped speaking the audience began to applaud. Silence being restored, I + tried to continue my discourse. But in spite of the most violent efforts, + I could not tear my eyes from those two living lights to which they were + so mysteriously riveted. That was not all. By a more amazing phenomenon + still, and contrary to all the principles of my whole life, I began to + improvise. God alone knows if this was the result of my own freewill! + </p> + <p> + Under the influence of a strange, unknown and irresistible force I + delivered with grace and burning eloquence certain philosophical + reflections on the toilet of women in the course of the ages; I + generalised, I rhapsodised, I grew eloquent-God forgive me-about the + eternal feminine, and the passion which glides like a breath about those + perfumed veils with which women know how to adorn their beauty. + </p> + <p> + The man with the Assyrian beard never ceased staring steadily at me. And I + still continued to speak. At last he lowered his eyes, and then I stopped. + It is humiliating to add that this portion of my address, which was quite + as foreign to my own natural impulse as it was contrary to the scientific + mind, was rewarded with tumultuous applause. The young woman in the north + balcony clapped her hands and smiled. + </p> + <p> + I was followed at the reading-desk by a member of the Academy who seemed + visibly annoyed at having to be heard after me. Perhaps his fears were + exaggerated. At any rate he was listened to without too much impatience. I + am under the impression that it was verse that he read. + </p> + <p> + The meeting being over, I left the hall in company with several of my + colleagues, who renewed their congratulations with a sincerity in which I + try to believe. + </p> + <p> + Having paused a moment on the quay near the lions of Creuzot to exchange a + few greetings, I observed the man with the Assyrian beard and his + beautiful companion enter a <i>coupé</i>. I happened accidentally to be + standing next to an eloquent philosopher, of whom it is said that he is + equally at home in worldly elegance and in cosmic theories. The young + lady, putting her delicate head and her little hand out of the carriage + door, called him by name and said with a slight English accent: + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend, you’ve forgotten me. That’s too bad!” + </p> + <p> + After the carriage had gone I asked my illustrious colleague who this + charming person and her companion were. + </p> + <p> + “What!” he replied, “you do not know Miss Morgan and her physician Daoud, + who cures all diseases by means of magnetism, hypnotism, and suggestion? + Annie Morgan is the daughter of the richest merchant in Chicago. Two years + ago she came to Paris with her mother, and she has had a wonderful house + built on the Avenue du Bois-de-Boulogne trice. She is highly educated and + remarkably clever.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not surprise me,” I replied, “for I have reason to think that this + American lady is of a very serious turn of mind.” + </p> + <p> + My brilliant colleague smiled as he shook my hand. + </p> + <p> + I walked home to the Rue Saint Jacques, where I have lived these last + thirty years in a modest lodging from which I can just see the tops of the + trees in the garden of the Luxembourg, and I sat down at my writing-table. + </p> + <p> + For three days I sat there assiduously at work, before me a little + statuette representing the goddess Pasht with her cat’s head. This little + monument bears an inscription imperfectly deciphered by Monsieur Grébault + I was at work on an adequate interpretation with comments. The incident at + the institute had left a less vivid impression on my mind than might have + been feared. I was not unduly disturbed. To tell the truth, I had even + forgotten it a little, and it required new occurrences to revive its + remembrance. + </p> + <p> + I had, therefore, leisure during these three days to bring my version of + the inscription and my notes to a satisfactory conclusion. I only + interrupted my archaeological work to read the newspapers, which were loud + in my praise. + </p> + <p> + Newspapers, absolutely ignorant of all learning, spoke in praise of that + “charming passage” which had concluded my discourse. “It was a + revelation,” they said, “and M. Pigeonneau had prepared a most agreeable + surprise for us.” I do not know why I refer to such trifles, because, + usually I am quite indifferent as to what they say about me in the + newspapers. + </p> + <p> + I had been already closeted in my study for three days when a ring at the + door-bell startled me. There was something imperious, fantastic, and + strange in the motion communicated to the bell-rope which disturbed me, + and it was with real anxiety that I went myself to open the door. And whom + did I find on the landing? The young American recently so absorbed at the + reading of my treatise. It was Miss Morgan in person. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Pigeonneau?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I recognised you at once, though you are not wearing your beautiful coat + with the embroidery of green palm-leaves. But, please don’t put it on for + my sake. I like you much better in your dressing-gown.” + </p> + <p> + I led her into my study. She looked curiously at the papyri, the prints, + and odds and ends of all kinds which covered the walls to the ceiling, and + then she looked silently for some time at the goddess Pasht who stood on + my writing-table. Finally she said: + </p> + <p> + “She is charming.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you refer to this little monument, Madam? As a matter of fact, it is + distinguished by an exceptional inscription of a sufficiently curious + nature. But may I ask what has procured for me the honour of your visit?” + </p> + <p> + “O,” she cried, “I don’t care a fig for its remarkable inscriptions. There + never was a more exquisitely delicate cat-face. Of course you believe that + she is a real goddess, don’t you, Monsieur Pigeonneau?” + </p> + <p> + I protested against so unworthy a suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “To believe that would be fetichism.” + </p> + <p> + Her great green eyes looked at me with surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, then, you don’t believe in fetichism? I did not think one could be an + archaeologist and yet not believe in fetichism. How can Pasht interest you + if you do not believe that she is a goddess? But never mind! I came to see + you on a matter of great importance, Monsieur Pigeonneau.” + </p> + <p> + “Great importance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, about a costume. Look at me.” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you find traces of the Cushite race in my profile?” + </p> + <p> + I was at loss what to say. An interview of this nature was so foreign to + me. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there’s nothing surprising about it,” she continued. “I remember when + I was an Egyptian. And were you also an Egyptian, Monsieur Pigeonneau? + Don’t you remember? How very curious. At least, you don’t doubt that we + pass through a series of successive incarnations?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know.” + </p> + <p> + “You surprise me, Monsieur Pigeonneau.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me, Madam, to what I am indebted for this honour?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure. I haven’t yet told you that I have come to beg you to help me + to design an Egyptian costume for the fancy ball at Countess N———‘s. + I want a costume that shall be absolutely accurate and bewilderingly + beautiful. I have been hard at work at it already, M. Pigeonneau. I have + gone over my recollections, for I remember very well when I lived in + Thebes six thousand years ago. I have had designs sent me from London, + Boulak and New York.” + </p> + <p> + “Those would, of course, be more reliable.” “No, nothing is so reliable as + one’s intuition. I have also studied in the Egyptian Museum of the Louvre. + It is full of enchanting things. Figures so slender and pure, profiles so + delicate and clear cut, women who look like flowers, but, at the same + time, with something at once rigid and supple. And a god, Bes, who looks + like Sarcey! My goodness, how beautiful it all is!” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, but I do not yet quite understand——” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t finished. I went to your lecture on the toilet of a woman of + the Middle Empire, and I took notes. It was rather dry, your lecture, but + I grubbed away at it. By aid of all these notes I have designed a costume. + But it is not quite right yet. So I have come to beg you to correct it. Do + come to me to-morrow! Will you? Do me that honour for the love of Egypt! + You will, won’t you? Till to-morrow, I must hurry off. Mama is in the + carriage waiting for me.” + </p> + <p> + She disappeared as she said these last words, and I followed. When I + reached the vestibule she was already at the foot of the stairs and from + here I heard her clear voice call up: + </p> + <p> + “Till to-morrow. Avenue du Bois-de-Boulogne, at the corner of the Villa + Saïd.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not go to see this mad creature,” I said to myself. + </p> + <p> + The next afternoon at four o’clock I rang the door-bell. A footman led me + into an immense, well-lighted hall crowded with pictures and statues in + marble and bronze; sedan chairs in <i>Vernis Martin</i> set with porcelain + plaques; Peruvian mummies; a dozen dummy figures of men and horses in full + armour, over which, by reason of their great height, towered a Polish + cavalier with white wings on his shoulders and a French knight equipped + for the tournament, his helmet bearing a crest of a woman’s head with + pointed coif and flowing veil. + </p> + <p> + An entire grove of palm-trees in tubs reared their foliage in this hall, + and in their midst was seated a gigantic Buddha in gold. At the foot of + the god sat a shabbily dressed old woman reading the Bible. + </p> + <p> + I was still dazzled by these many marvels when the purple hangings were + raised and Miss Morgan appeared in a white <i>peignoir</i> trimmed with + swans-down. She was followed by two great, long-muzzled boarhounds. + </p> + <p> + “I was sure you would come, Monsieur Pigeonneau.” + </p> + <p> + I stammered a compliment. + </p> + <p> + “How could one possibly refuse anything to so charming a lady?” + </p> + <p> + “O, it is not because I am pretty that I am never refused anything. I have + secrets by which I make myself obeyed.” + </p> + <p> + Then, pointing to the old lady who was reading the Bible, she said to me: + </p> + <p> + “Pay no attention to her, that is mama. I shall not introduce you. Should + you speak she could not reply; she belongs to a religious sect which + forbids unnecessary conversation. It is the very latest thing in sects. + Its adherents wear sackcloth and eat out of wooden basins. Mama greatly + enjoys these little observances. But you can imagine that I did not ask + you here to talk to you about mama. I will put on my Egyptian costume. I + shan’t be long. In the meantime you might look at these little things.” + </p> + <p> + And she made me sit down before a cabinet containing a mummy-case, several + statuettes of the Middle Empire, a number of scarabs, and some beautiful + fragments of a ritual for the burial of the dead. + </p> + <p> + Left alone, I examined the papyrus with the more interest, inasmuch as it + was inscribed with a name I had already discovered on a seal. It was the + name of a scribe of King Seti I. I immediately applied myself to noting + the various interesting peculiarities the document exhibited. + </p> + <p> + I was plunged in this occupation for a longer time than I could accurately + measure, when I was warned by a kind of instinct that some one was behind + me. I turned and saw a marvellous being, her head surmounted by a gold + hawk and the pure and adorable lines of her young body revealed by a + clinging white sheath. Over this a transparent rose-coloured tunic, bound + at the waist by a girdle of precious stones, fell and separated into + symmetrical folds. Arms and feet were bare and loaded with rings. + </p> + <p> + She stood before me, her head turned towards her right shoulder in a + hieratic attitude which gave to her delicious beauty something + indescribably divine. + </p> + <p> + “What! Is that you, Miss Morgan?” + </p> + <p> + “Unless it is Neferu-Ra in person. You remember the Neferu-Ra of Leconte + de Lisle, the Beauty of the Sun?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Pallid and pining on her virgin bed, + Swathed in fine lawns from dainty foot to head.‘{*} + + * “Voici qu’elle languit sur son lit virginal, + Très pâle, enveloppée avec des fines toiles.” + </pre> + <p> + “But of course you don’t know. You know nothing of verse. And yet verses + are so pretty. Come! Let’s go to work.” + </p> + <p> + Having mastered my emotion, I made some remarks to this charming young + person about her enchanting costume. I ventured to criticise certain + details as departing from archaeological accuracy. I proposed to replace + certain gems in the setting of the rings by others more universally in use + in the Middle Empire. Finally I decidedly opposed the wearing of a clasp + of <i>cloisonné</i> enamel. In fact, this jewel was a most odious + anachronism. We at last agreed to replace this by a boss of precious + stones deep set in fine gold. She listened with great docility, and seemed + so pleased with me that she even asked me to stay to dinner. I excused + myself because of my regular habits and the simplicity of my diet and took + my leave. I was already in the vestibule when she called after me: + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, is my costume sufficiently smart? How mad I shall make all the + other women at the Countess’s ball!” + </p> + <p> + I was shocked at the remark. But having turned towards her I saw her + again, and again I fell under her spell. + </p> + <p> + She called me back. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Pigeonneau,” she said, “you are such a dear man! Write me a + little story and I will love you ever and ever and ever so much!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “What is the use of science if it can’t help you to write a story! You + must write me a story, Monsieur Pigeonnneau.” + </p> + <p> + Thinking it useless to repeat my absolute refusal I took my leave without + replying. + </p> + <p> + At the door I passed the man with the Assyrian beard, Dr. Daoud, whose + glance had so strangely affected me under the cupola of the Institute. + </p> + <p> + He struck me as being of the commonest class, and I found it very + disagreeable to meet him again. + </p> + <p> + The Countess N———‘s ball took place about fifteen days + after my visit. I was not surprised to read in the newspaper that the + beautiful Miss Morgan had created a sensation in the costume of Neferu-Ra. + </p> + <p> + During the rest of the year 1886 I did not hear her mentioned again. But + on the first day of the New Year, as I was writing in my study, a + manservant brought me a letter and a basket. + </p> + <p> + “From Miss Morgan,” he explained, and went away. I heard a mewing in the + basket which had been placed on my writing table, and when I opened it out + sprang a little grey cat. + </p> + <p> + It was not an Angora. It was a cat of some Oriental breed, much more + slender than ours, and with a striking resemblance, so far as I could + judge, to those of his race found in great numbers in the subterranean + tombs of Thebes, their mummies swathed in coarse mummy-wrappings. He shook + himself, gazed about, arched his back, yawned, and then rubbed himself, + purring, against the goddess Pasht, who stood on my table in all her + purity of form and her delicate, pointed face. Though his colour was dark + and his fur short, he was graceful, and he seemed intelligent and quite + tame. I could not imagine the reason for such a curious present, nor did + Miss Morgan’s letter greatly enlighten me. It was as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Dear Sir, + </p> + <p> + “I am sending you a little cat which Dr. Daoud brought back from Egypt, + and of which I am very fond. Treat him well for my sake, Baudelaire, the + greatest French poet after Stéphane Mallarmé, has said: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The ardent lover and the unbending sage, + Alike companion in their ripe old age, + With the sleek arrogant cat, the household’s pride, + Slothful and chilly by the warm fireside.‘{*} + + * “Les amoureux fervents et les savants austères + Aiment également, dans leur mûre saison, + Les chats puissants et doux, orgueil de la maison, + Qui comme eux sont frileux et comme eux sédentaires.” + </pre> + <p> + “I need hardly remind you that you must write me a story. Bring it on + Twelfth Night. We will dine together. + </p> + <p> + “Annie Morgan. + </p> + <p> + “P.S.—Your little cat’s name is Porou.” + </p> + <p> + Having read this letter, I looked at Porou who, standing on his hind legs, + was licking the black face of Pasht, his divine sister. He looked at me, + and I must confess that of the two of us he was the less astonished. I + asked myself, “What does this mean?” But I soon gave up trying to + understand. + </p> + <p> + “It is expecting too much of myself to try and discover reason in the + follies of this madcap,” I thought. “I must get to work again. As for this + little animal, Madam Magloire my housekeeper can provide for his needs.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon I resumed my work on a chronology, all the more interesting as + it gave me the opportunity to abuse somewhat my distinguished colleague, + Monsieur Maspéro. Porou did not leave my table. Seated on his haunches, + his ears pricked, he watched me write, and strange to say I accomplished + no good work that day. My ideas were all in confusion; there came to my + mind scraps of songs and odds and ends of fairy-tales, and I went to bed + very dissatisfied with myself. The next morning I again found Porou, + seated on my writing-table, licking his paws. That day again I worked very + badly; Porou and I spent the greater part of the day watching each other. + The next morning it was the same, and also the morning after; in short, + the whole week. I ought to have been distressed, but I must confess that + little by little I began to resign myself to my ill-luck, not only with + patience, but even with some amusement. The rapidity with which a virtuous + man becomes depraved is something terrible. The morning preceding Twelfth + Night, which fell on a Sunday, I rose in high spirits and hurried to my + writing-table, where, according to his custom, Porou, had already preceded + me. I took a handsome copy-book of white paper and dipped my pen into the + ink and wrote in big letters, under the watchful observation of my new + friend: + </p> + <p> + “<i>The Misadventures of a one-eyed Porter?</i>.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon, without ceasing to look at Porou, I wrote all day long in the + most prodigious haste a story of such astonishing adventures, so charming + and so varied that I was myself vastly entertained. My one-eyed porter + mixed up all his parcels and committed the most absurd mistakes. Lovers in + critical situations received from him, and quite without his knowledge, + the most unexpected aid. He transported wardrobes in which men were + concealed, and he placed them in other houses, frightening old ladies + almost to death. But how describe so merry a story! While writing I burst + out laughing at least twenty times. If Porou did not laugh, his solemn + silence was quite as amusing as the most uproarious hilarity. It was + already seven o’clock in the evening when I wrote the final line of this + delightful story. During the last hour the room had only been lighted by + Porou’s phosphorescent eyes. And yet I had written with as much ease in + the darkness as by the light of a good lamp. My story finished, I + proceeded to dress. I put on my evening clothes and my white tie, and, + taking leave of Porou, I hurried downstairs into the street. I had hardly + gone twenty steps when I felt some one pull at my sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you running to, uncle, just like a somnambulist?” + </p> + <p> + It was my nephew Marcel who hailed me in this fashion. He is an honest, + intelligent young man, and a house-surgeon at the Salpêtrière. People say + that he has a successful medical career before him. And indeed he would be + clever enough if he would only be more on his guard against his whimsical + imagination. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I am on my way to Miss Morgan, to take her a story I have just + written.” + </p> + <p> + “What, uncle! You write stories, and you know Miss Morgan? She is very + pretty. And do you also know Dr. Daoud who follows her about everywhere?” + </p> + <p> + “A quack, a charlatan!” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly, uncle, and yet, unquestionably a most extraordinary + experimentalist. Neither Bernheim nor Liégeois, not even Charcot himself, + has obtained the phenomena he produces at will. He induces the hypnotic + condition and control by suggestion without contact, and without any + direct agency, through the intervention of an animal. He commonly makes + use of little short-haired cats for his experiments. + </p> + <p> + “This is how he goes to work: he suggests an action of some kind to a cat, + then he sends the animal in a basket to the subject he wishes to + influence. The animal transmits the suggestion he has received, and the + patient under the influence of the beast does exactly what the operator + desires.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this true?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, quite true, uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is Miss Morgan’s share in these interesting experiments?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Morgan employs Dr. Daoud to work for her, and she makes use of + hypnotism and suggestion to induce people to make fools of themselves, as + it her beauty was not quite enough.” + </p> + <p> + I did not stop to listen any longer. An irresistible force hurried me on + towards Miss Morgan. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="072 (117K)" src="images/072.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE DAUGHTER OF LILITH + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + TO JEAN PSICHARI +</pre> + <p> + I had left Paris late in the evening, and I spent a long, silent and snowy + night in the corner of the railway carriage. I waited six mortal hours at + X———, and the next afternoon I found nothing better than + a farm-waggon to take me to Artigues. The plain whose furrows rose and + fell by turns on either side of the road, and which I had seen long ago + lying radiant in the sunshine, was now covered with a heavy veil of snow + over which straggled the twisted black stems of the vines. My driver + gently urged on his old horse, and we proceeded through an infinite + silence broken only at intervals by the plaintive cry of a bird, sad even + unto death. I murmured this prayer in my heart: “My God, God of Mercy, + save me from despair and after so many transgressions, let me not commit + the one sin Thou dost not forgive.” Then I saw the sun, red and rayless, + blood-hued, descending on the horizon, as it were, the sacred Host, and + remembering the divine Sacrifice of Calvary, I felt hope enter into my + soul. For some time longer the wheels crunched the snow. At last the + driver pointed with the end of his whip to the spire of Artigues as it + rose like a shadow against the dull red haze. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said the man, “are you going to stop at the presbytery? You know + the curé?” + </p> + <p> + “I have known him ever since I was a child. He was my master when I was a + student.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he learned in books?” + </p> + <p> + “My friend, M. Safrac, is as learned as he is good.” + </p> + <p> + “So they say. But they also say other things.” + </p> + <p> + “What do they say, my friend?” + </p> + <p> + “They say what they please, and I let them talk.” + </p> + <p> + “What more do they say?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there are those who say he is a sorcerer, and that he can tell + fortunes.” + </p> + <p> + “What nonsense!” + </p> + <p> + “For my part I keep a still tongue! But if M. Safrac is not a sorcerer and + fortune-teller, why does he spend his time reading books?” + </p> + <p> + The waggon stopped in front of the presbytery. + </p> + <p> + I left the idiot, and followed the cure’s servant, who conducted me to her + master in a room where the table was already laid. I found M. Safrac + greatly changed in the three years since I had last seen him. His tall + figure was bent He was excessively emaciated. Two piercing eyes glowed in + his thin face. His nose, which seemed to have grown longer, descended over + his shrunken lips. I fell into his arms. + </p> + <p> + “My father, my father,” I cried, sobbing, “I have come to you because I + have sinned. My father, my dear old master, whose profound and mysterious + knowledge overawed my mind, and who yet reassured it with a revelation of + maternal tenderness, save your child from the brink of a precipice. O my + only friend, save me; enlighten me, you my only beacon!” + </p> + <p> + He embraced me, and smiled on me with that exquisite kindness of which he + had given so many proofs during my childhood, and then he stepped back, as + if to see me better. + </p> + <p> + “Well, adieu!” he said, greeting me according to the custom of his + country, for M. Safrac was born on the banks of the Garonne, in the home + of those famous wines which seemed the symbol of his own generous and + fragrant soul. + </p> + <p> + After having taught philosophy with great distinction in Bordeaux, + Poitiers and Paris, he asked as his only reward the gift of a poor cure in + the country where he had been born and where he wished to die. He had now + been priest at Artigues for six years, and in this obscure village he + practised the most humble piety and the most enlightened sciences. + </p> + <p> + “Well, adieu! my child,” he repeated. “You wrote me a letter to announce + your coming which has moved me deeply. It is true, then, that you have not + forgotten your old master?” + </p> + <p> + I tried to throw myself at his feet + </p> + <p> + “Save me! save me!” I stammered. + </p> + <p> + But he stopped me with a gesture at once imperious and gentle. + </p> + <p> + “You shall tell me to-morrow, Ary, what you have to tell. First, warm + yourself. Then we will have supper, for you must be very hungry and very + thirsty.” + </p> + <p> + The servant placed on the table the soup-tureen out of which rose a + fragrant column of steam. She was an old woman, her hair hidden under a + black kerchief, and in her wrinkled face were strongly mingled the beauty + of race and the ugliness of decay. I was in profound distress, and yet the + peace of this saintly dwelling, the gaiety of the wood fire, the white + table-cloth, the wine and the steaming dishes entered, little by little, + into my soul. Whilst I ate I nearly forgot that I had come to the fireside + of this priest to exchange the soreness of remorse for the fertilising dew + of repentance. Monsieur Safrac reminded me of the hours, already long + since past, which we had spent together in the college when he had taught + philosophy. + </p> + <p> + “You, Ary,” he said to me, “were my best pupil. Your quick intelligence + was always in advance of the thought of the teacher. For that reason I at + once became attached to you. I like a Christian to be daring. Faith should + not be timid when unbelief shows an indomitable audacity. The Church + nowadays has lambs only; and it needs lions. Who will give us back those + learned fathers and doctors whose erudition embraced all sciences? Truth + is like the sun; it requires the eye of an eagle to contemplate it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, M. Safrac, you brought to bear on all questions that daring vision + which nothing dazzles. I remember that your opinions sometimes even + startled those of your colleagues whom the holiness of your life filled + with admiration. You did not fear new ideas. Thus, for instance, you were + inclined to admit the plurality of inhabited worlds.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes kindled. + </p> + <p> + “What will the cowards say when they read my book? I have meditated, and I + have worked under this beautiful sky, in this land which God has created + with a special love. You know that I have some knowledge of Hebrew, + Arabic, Persian, and certain of the Indian dialects. You also know that I + have brought here a library rich in ancient manuscripts. I have plunged + profoundly into the knowledge of the tongues and traditions of the + primitive East. This great work, by the help of God, will not have been in + vain. I have nearly finished my book on ‘Origins,’ which re-establishes + and upholds that Biblical exegesis of which an impious science already + foresaw the imminent overthrow. God in His mercy has at last permitted + science and faith to be reconciled. To effect this reconciliation I have + started with the following premises: + </p> + <p> + “The Bible, inspired by the Holy Ghost, tells only the truth, but it does + not tell all the truth. And how could it, seeing that its only object is + to inform us of what is needful for our eternal salvation? Apart from this + great purpose it has no other. Its design is as simple as it is infinite. + It includes the fall and the redemption; it is the sacred history of man; + it is complete and restricted. Nothing has been admitted to satisfy + profane curiosity. A godless science must not be permitted to triumph any + longer over the silence of God. It is time to say, ‘No, the Bible has not + lied, because it has not revealed all.’ That is the truth which I + proclaim. By the help of geology, prehistoric archaeology, the Oriental + cosmogonies, Hittite and Sumerian monuments, Chaldean and Babylonian + traditions preserved in the Talmud, I assert the existence of the + pre-Adamites, of whom the inspired writer of Genesis does not speak, for + the only reason that their existence did not bear upon the eternal + salvation of the children of Adam. Furthermore, a minute study of the + first chapters of Genesis has proved to me the existence of two successive + creations separated by untold ages, of which the second is only, so to + speak, the adaptation of a corner of the earth to the needs of Adam and + his posterity.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, then he continued in a low voice and with a solemnity truly + religious: + </p> + <p> + “I, Martial Safrac, unworthy priest, doctor of theology, submissive as an + obedient child to the authority of our Holy Mother the Church, I assert + with absolute certainty—yielding all due submission to our holy + father the Pope and the Councils—that Adam, who was created in the + image of God, had two wives, of whom Eve was the second.” + </p> + <p> + These singular words drew me little by little out of myself and filled me + with a curious interest. I therefore felt something of disappointment when + M. Safrac, planting his elbows on the table, said to me: + </p> + <p> + “Enough on that subject. Some day, perhaps, you will read my book, which + will enlighten you on this point. I was obliged, in obedience to strict + duty, to submit the work to Monseigneur, and to beg his Grace’s approval. + The manuscript is at present in the archbishop’s hands, and any minute I + may expect a reply which I have every reason to believe will be + favourable. My dear child, try those mushrooms out of our own woods, and + this native wine of ours, and acknowledge that this is the second promised + land, of which the first was only the image and the forecast.” + </p> + <p> + From this time on our conversation, grown more familiar, ranged over our + common recollections. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my child,” said M. Safrac, “you were my favourite pupil, and God + permits preferences if they are founded on impartial judgment. So I + decided at once that there was in you the making of a man and a Christian. + Not that great imperfections were not in evidence. You were irresolute, + uncertain, and easily disconcerted. Passions, so far latent, smouldered in + your soul. I loved you because of your great restlessness, as I did + another of my pupils for quite opposite qualities. I loved Paul d’Ervy for + his unswerving steadfastness of mind and heart.” + </p> + <p> + At this name I blushed and turned pale and with difficulty suppressed a + cry, and when I tried to answer I found it impossible to speak. M. Safrac + appeared not to notice my distress. + </p> + <p> + “If I remember aright, he was your best friend,” he added. “You have + remained intimate ever since, have you not? I know he has started on a + diplomatic career, and a great future is predicted for him. I hope that in + happier times than the present he may be entrusted with office at the Holy + See. In him you have a faithful and devoted friend.” + </p> + <p> + “My father,” I replied, with a great effort, “to-morrow I will speak to + you of Paul d’Ervy and of another person.” + </p> + <p> + M. Safrac pressed my hand. We separated, and I went to the room which had + been prepared for me. In my bed, fragrant with lavender, I dreamed that I + was once again a child, and that as I knelt in the college chapel I was + admiring the blonde and ecstatic women with which the gallery was filled, + when suddenly out of a cloud over my head I seemed to hear a voice say: + </p> + <p> + “Ary, you believe that you love them in God, but it is God you love in + them.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning when I woke I found M. Safrac standing at the side of my + bed. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Ary, and hear the Mass which I am about to celebrate for your + intention. After the Holy Sacrifice I shall be ready to listen to what you + have to say.” + </p> + <p> + The Church of Artigues was a little sanctuary in the Norman style which + still flourished in Aquitaine in the twelfth century. Restored some twenty + years ago, it had received the addition of a bell-tower which had not been + contemplated in the original plan. At any rate, poverty had safeguarded + its pure bareness. I tried to join in the prayers of the celebrant as much + as my thoughts would permit, and then I returned with him to the + presbytery. Here we breakfasted on a little bread and milk, after which we + went to M. Safrac’s room. + </p> + <p> + He drew a chair to the fireplace, over which hung a crucifix, and invited + me to be seated, and seating himself beside me he signed to me to speak. + Outside the snow fell. I began as follows: + </p> + <p> + “My father, it is ten years ago since I left your care and entered the + world. I have preserved my faith, but, alas, not my purity. But it is + unnecessary to remind you of my life; you know it, you my spiritual guide, + the only keeper of my conscience. Moreover, I am in haste to arrive at the + event which has convulsed my being. Last year my family had decided that I + must marry, and I myself had willingly consented. The young girl destined + for me united all the advantages of which parents are usually in search. + More than that, she was pretty; she pleased me to such a degree that + instead of a marriage of convenience I was about to make a marriage of + affection. My offer was accepted, and we were betrothed. The happiness and + peace of my life seemed assured when I received a letter from Paul d’Ervy + who had returned from Constantinople and announced his arrival in Paris. + He expressed a great desire to see me. I hurried to him and announced my + marriage. He congratulated me heartily. + </p> + <p> + “‘My dear old boy,’ he said, ‘I rejoice in your happiness.’ + </p> + <p> + “I told him that I counted on him to be my witness and he willingly + consented. The date of my wedding was fixed for May 15, and he was not + obliged to return to his post until the beginning of June. + </p> + <p> + “‘How lucky that is,’ I said to him. ‘And you?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh, I,’ he replied, with a smile which expressed in turn joy and sorrow, + ‘I—what a change! I am mad—a woman—Ary. I am either very + fortunate or very unfortunate! What name can one give to a happiness + gained by an evil action? I have betrayed, I have broken the heart of a + good friend... I carried off—yonder—in Constantinople——” + </p> + <p> + M. Safrac interrupted me: + </p> + <p> + “My son, leave out of your narrative the faults of others and name no + one.” + </p> + <p> + I promised to obey, and continued as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Paul had hardly ceased speaking when a woman entered the room. Evidently + it was she; dressed in a long blue <i>peignoir</i>, she seemed to be at + home. I will describe to you in one word the terrible impression she + produced on me: she did not seem <i>natural</i>. I realise how vague is + this expression and how inadequately it explains my meaning. But perhaps + it will become more intelligible in the course of my story. But, indeed, + in the expression of her golden eyes, that seemed at times to throw out + sparks of light, in the curve of her enigmatical mouth, in the substance + of her skin, at once brown and yet luminous, in the play of the angular + and yet harmonious lines of her body, in the ethereal lightness of her + footsteps, even in her bare arms, to which invisible wings seemed + attached, and, finally, in her ardent and magnetic personality, I felt an + indescribable something foreign to the nature of humanity; an + indescribable something inferior and yet superior to the woman God has + created in his formidable goodness, so that she should be our companion in + this earthly exile. From the moment I saw her one feeling alone + overmastered my soul and pervaded it; I felt a profound aversion towards + everything that was not this woman. + </p> + <p> + “Seeing her enter, Paul frowned slightly, but changing his mind, he made + an effort to smile. + </p> + <p> + “‘Leila, I wish to present to you my best friend.’ + </p> + <p> + “Leila replied: + </p> + <p> + “‘I know M. Ary.’ + </p> + <p> + “These words could not but seem strange as we had certainly never seen + each other before; but the voice with which they were uttered was stranger + still. + </p> + <p> + “If crystal could utter thought, so it would speak. + </p> + <p> + “‘My friend Ary,’ continued Paul, ‘is to be married in six weeks.’ + </p> + <p> + “At these words Leila looked at me and I saw distinctly that her golden + eyes said ‘No!’ + </p> + <p> + “I went away greatly disturbed, nor did my friend show the slightest + desire to detain me. All that day I wandered aimlessly through the + streets, my heart empty and desolate; then, towards night, finding myself + in front of a florist’s shop, I remembered my <i>fiancée</i>, and went in + to get her a spray of white lilac. I had hardly taken hold of the flowers + when a little hand tore them out of my grasp, and I saw Leila, who turned + away laughing. She wore a short grey dress and a jacket of the same colour + and a small round hat. I must confess that this costume of a Parisian + dressed for walking was most unbecoming to her fairy-like beauty and + seemed a kind of disguise. And yet, seeing her so, I felt that I loved her + with an undying love. I tried to rejoin her, but I lost her among the + crowd and the carriages. + </p> + <p> + “From this time on I seemed to cease to live. I called several times at + Paul’s without seeing Leila again. He always received me in a friendly + manner, but he never spoke of her. We had nothing to say to each other, + and I was sad when we parted. At last, one day, the footman said that his + master was out. He added ‘Perhaps you would like to see Madame?’ I replied + ‘Yes.’ O, my father, what tears of blood can ever atone for this little + word! I entered. I found her in the drawing-room, half reclining on a + couch, in a dress as yellow as gold, under which she had drawn her little + feet. I saw her—but, no, I saw nothing. My throat was suddenly + parched, I could not utter a word. A fragrance of myrrh and aromatic + perfumes which emanated from her seemed to intoxicate me with languor and + longing, as if at once all the odours of the mystic East had penetrated my + quivering nostrils. No, this was certainly not a natural woman, for + nothing human seemed to emanate from her. Her face expressed no emotion, + either good or bad, beyond a voluptuousness at once sensual and divine. + She doubtless noticed my suffering, for she asked with a voice as clear as + the ripple of a mountain brook: + </p> + <p> + “‘What ails you?’ + </p> + <p> + “I threw myself in tears at her feet and cried, ‘I love you madly!’” + </p> + <p> + “She opened her arms; then enfolding me with a lingering glance of her + candid and voluptuous eyes: + </p> + <p> + “‘Why have you not told me this before?’ + </p> + <p> + “Indescribable moment! I held Leila in my arms. It seemed as if we two + together had been transported to Heaven and filled all its spaces. I felt + myself become the equal of God, and my breast seemed to enfold all the + beauty of earth and the harmonies of nature—the stars and the + flowers, the forests that sing, the rivers and the deep seas. I had + enfolded the infinite in a kiss....” + </p> + <p> + At these words Monsieur Safrac, who had listened to me for some moments + with growing impatience, rose, and standing before the fireplace, lifted + his cassock to his knees to warm his legs and said with a severity which + came near being disdain: + </p> + <p> + “You are a wretched blasphemer, and instead of despising your crimes, you + only confess them because of your pride and delight in them. I will listen + no more.” + </p> + <p> + At these words I burst into tears and begged his forgiveness. Recognising + that my humility was sincere, he desired me to continue my confession on + condition that I realised my own self-abasement. + </p> + <p> + I continued my story as follows, determined to make it as brief as + possible: + </p> + <p> + “My father, I was torn by remorse when I left Leila. But, from the + following day on, she came to me, and then began a life which tortured me + with joy and anguish. I was jealous of Paul, whom I had betrayed, and I + suffered cruelly. + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe that there is a more debasing evil than jealousy, nor + one which fills the soul with more degrading thoughts. Even to console me + Leila scorned to lie. Besides, her conduct was incomprehensible. I do not + forget to whom I am speaking, and I shall be careful not to offend the + ears of the <i>most</i> revered of priests. I can only say that Leila + seemed ignorant of the love she permitted. But she had enveloped my whole + being in the poison of sensuality. I could not exist without her, and I + trembled at the thought of losing her. + </p> + <p> + “Leila seemed absolutely devoid of what we call moral sense. You must not, + however, think that she was either wicked or cruel. On the contrary, she + was gentle and compassionate. Nor was she without intelligence, but her + intelligence was not of the same nature as ours. She said little, and she + refused to reply to any questions that were asked her about her past. She + was ignorant of all that we know. On the other hand, she knew many things + of which we are ignorant. + </p> + <p> + “Educated in the East, she was familiar with all sorts of Hindoo and + Persian legends, which she would repeat with a certain monotonous cadence + and with an infinite grace. Listening to her as she described the charming + dawn of the world, one would have said she had lived in the youth of + creation. This I once said to her. + </p> + <p> + “‘It is true, I am old,’” she answered smiling. + </p> + <p> + M. Safrac, still standing in front of the fireplace, had for some time + bent towards me in an attitude of keen attention. + </p> + <p> + “Continue,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Often, my father, I questioned Leila about her religion. She replied that + she had none, and that she had no need of one; that her mother and sisters + were the daughters of God, but that they were not bound to Him by any + creed. She wore a medallion about her neck filled with a little red earth + which she said she had piously gathered because of her love for her + mother.” + </p> + <p> + Hardly had I uttered these words when M. Safrac, pale and trembling, + sprang forward, and, seizing my arm, <i>shouted</i>: + </p> + <p> + “She told the truth! I know now. I know who this creature was, Ary! Your + instinct did not deceive you. It was not a woman. Continue, continue, I + implore.” + </p> + <p> + “My father, I have nearly finished. Alas, for Leila’s love, I had broken + my solemn plighted troth, I had betrayed my best friend. I had affronted + God. Paul, having heard of Leila’s faithlessness, became mad with grief. + He threatened her with death, but she replied gently: + </p> + <p> + “‘Kill me, my friend; I long to die, but I cannot.’ + </p> + <p> + “For six months she gave herself to me; then one morning she said that she + was about to return to Persia, and that she would never see me again. I + wept, I moaned, I raved: ‘You have never loved me!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No, my friend,’ she replied gently. ‘And yet how many women who have + loved you no better have denied you what you received from me! You still + owe me some gratitude. Farewell.’ + </p> + <p> + “For two days I was plunged in alternate fury and apathy! Then remembering + the salvation of my soul, I hurried to you, my father. Here I am. Purify + me, uplift me, strengthen my heart, for I love her still.” + </p> + <p> + I ceased. M. Safrac, his hand raised to his forehead, remained lost in + thought. He was the first to break the silence. + </p> + <p> + “My son, this confirms my great discovery. What you tell me will confound + the vainglory of our modern sceptics. Listen to me. We live today in the + midst of miracles as did the first-born of men. Listen, listen! Adam, as I + have already told you, had a first wife whom the Bible does not make + mention of, but of whom the Talmud speaks. Her name was Lilith. Created, + not out of one of his ribs, but from this same red earth out of which he + himself had been kneaded, she was not flesh of his flesh. She voluntarily + separated from him. He was still living in innocence when she left him to + go to those regions where long years afterwards the Persians settled, but + which at this time were inhabited by the pre-Adamites, more intelligent + and more beautiful than the sons of men. She therefore had no part in the + transgression of our first father, and was unsullied by that original sin. + Because of this she also escaped from the curse pronounced against Eve and + her descendants. She is exempt from sorrow and death; having no soul to be + saved, she is incapable of virtue or vice. Whatever she does, she + accomplishes neither good nor evil. The daughters that were born to her of + some mysterious wedlock are immortal as she is, and free as she is both in + their deeds and thoughts, seeing that they can neither gain nor lose in + the sight of God. Now, my son, I recognise by indisputable signs that the + creature who caused your downfall, this Leila, was a daughter of Lilith. + Compose yourself to prayer. To-morrow I will hear you in confession.” + </p> + <p> + He remained silent for a moment, then drawing a paper out of his pocket, + he continued: + </p> + <p> + “Late last night, after having wished you good night, the postman, who had + been delayed by the snow, brought me a very distressing letter. The senior + vicaire informs me that my book has been a source of grief to Monseigneur, + and has already overshadowed the spiritual joy with which he looked + forward to the festival of our Lady of Mount Carmel. The work, he adds, is + full of foolhardy doctrines and opinions which have already been condemned + by the authorities. His Grace could not approve of such unwholesome + lucubrations. This, then, is what they write to me. But I will relate your + story to Monseigneur. It will prove to him that Lilith exists and that I + do not dream.” + </p> + <p> + I implored Monsieur Safrac to listen to me a moment more. + </p> + <p> + “When she went away, my father, Leila left me a leaf of cypress on which + certain characters which I cannot decipher had been traced with the point + of a style. It seems to be a kind of amulet.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Safrac took the light film which I held out to him and examined + it carefully. + </p> + <p> + “This,” he said, “is written in Persian of the best period and can be + easily translated thus: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “THE PRAYER OF LEILA, DAUGHTER OF LILITH +</pre> + <p> + “<i>My God, promise me death, so that I may taste of life. My God, give me + remorse, so that I may at last find happiness. My God, make me the equal + of the daughters of Eve.</i>” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="094 (112K)" src="images/094.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + LAETA ACILIA + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + TO ARY RENAN +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + Laeta Acilia lived in Marseilles during the reign of the Emperor Tiberius. + She had been married for several years to a Roman noble named Helvius, but + she had no children, though she longed passionately to become a mother. + One day as she went to the temple to pray to the gods she found the + entrance crowded by a band of men, half naked, emaciated and devoured by + leprosy and ulcers. She paused in terror on the lowest step of the temple. + Laeta Acilia was not without compassion. She pitied the poor creatures, + but she was afraid of them. Nor had she ever seen beggars as wild looking + as those who at this moment crowded before her, livid, lifeless, their + empty wallets flung at their feet. She grew pale and held her hand to her + heart; she could neither advance nor escape, and she felt her limbs giving + way under her when a woman of striking beauty detached herself from these + unfortunates and came towards her. + </p> + <p> + “Fear nothing, young woman,” and the unknown spoke in a voice both grave + and tender, “the men you see here are not cruel. They are the bearers not + of falsehood and evil, but of truth and love. We have come from Judaea, + where the Son of God has died and risen again. When He ascended to the + right hand of His Father those who believed in Him suffered cruel wrongs. + Stephen was stoned by the people. As for us, the priests placed us on + board a ship without sails or rudder, and we were delivered over to the + waters of the sea to the end that we should perish. But the God who loved + us in His mortal life mercifully led us to the harbour of this town. Alas! + the people of Marseilles are avaricious, idolatrous and cruel. They permit + the disciples of Jesus to die of hunger and cold. And had we not taken + refuge in this temple, which they deem sacred, they would already have + dragged us to their gloomy prisons. And yet it would have been well had + they welcomed us, since we bring good tidings.” + </p> + <p> + Having thus spoken the stranger held out her hand towards her companions + and pointed to each in turn. + </p> + <p> + “That old man, lady,” she said, “who turns on you his serene gaze, that is + Cedon, he whom, though blind from birth, the Master healed. Cedon now sees + with equal clearness things both visible and invisible. That other old + man, whose beard is as white as the snow on the mountains, is Maximin. + This man, still so young, and who yet seems so weary, is my brother. He + was possessed of great wealth in Jerusalem. Near him stand Martha my + sister and Mantilla, the faithful servant who in happier days gathered + olives on the hillsides of Bethany.” + </p> + <p> + “And you,” asked Laeta Acilia, “you whose voice is so soft and whose face + is so beautiful, what is your name?” + </p> + <p> + The Jewess replied: + </p> + <p> + “I am called Mary Magdalen. I divined by the gold embroidery on your + raiment, and the unconscious pride of your bearing, that you are the wife + of one of the principal citizens of this town. For this reason I have + approached you, to the end that you may move the heart of your husband on + behalf of the disciples of Jesus Christ. Say to this rich man: ‘Lord, they + are naked, let us clothe them; they are anhungered and thirsty let us give + them bread and wine, and God will restore to us in His Kingdom what was + borrowed from us in His name.’” + </p> + <p> + Laeta Acilia replied: + </p> + <p> + “Mary, I will do as you ask. My husband is named Helvius; he is of noble + rank and one of the richest citizens of the town; never for long does he + refuse what I desire, for he loves me. Your companions have now ceased, O + Mary, to fill me with fear. I shall even dare to pass close to them, + though their limbs are polluted by ulcers, and I shall go to the temple to + pray to the immortal gods to grant my wish. Alas! hitherto they have + refused.” + </p> + <p> + Mary, with arms outstretched, barred her way. + </p> + <p> + “Beware, lady,” she cried, “of worshipping vain idols. Do not demand of + images of stone words of hope and life. There is only one God, and with my + hair I have wiped His feet.” + </p> + <p> + At these words the flashing of her eyes, dark as the sky in a storm, + mingled with tears, and Laeta Acilia said to herself: + </p> + <p> + “I am pious, and I faithfully perform the ceremonies religion demands, but + in this woman there is a strange feeling of a love divine.” + </p> + <p> + Mary Magdalen continued in ecstasy: “He was the God of Heaven and earth, + and He uttered His parables seated on the bench by the threshold, under + the shade of the old fig-tree. He was young and beautiful. He would have + been glad to be loved. When he came to supper in my sister’s house I sat + at His feet, and the words flowed from His lips like the waters of a + torrent. And when my sister complained of my sloth, saying: ‘Master, tell + her it is but right that she should aid me to prepare the supper,’ He + smiled and made excuse for me, and permitted me to remain seated at His + feet, and said that I had chosen the good part. + </p> + <p> + “One would have thought to see Him that He was but a young shepherd from + the mountains, and yet His eyes flashed flames like those that issued from + the brow of Moses. His gentleness was like the peace of night and His + anger was more terrible than a thunderbolt. He loved the humble and the + little ones. Along the roadside the children ran towards Him and clung to + His garments. He was the God of Abraham and Jacob, and with the same hands + that had created the sun and the stars, He caressed the cheeks of the + newly born whom their happy mothers held out to Him from the thresholds of + their cottages. He was himself as simple as a child, and He raised the + dead to life. Here among my companions you see my brother whom He raised + from the dead. Behold, lady! Lazarus bears on his face the pallor of + death, and in his eyes is the horror of one who has seen hell.” + </p> + <p> + But for some moments past Laeta Acilia had ceased to listen. + </p> + <p> + She raised towards the Jewess her candid eyes and her small, smooth + forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Mary,” she said, “I am a pious woman, attached to the faith of my + fathers. Unbelief is evil for our sex. And it does not beseem the wife of + a Roman noble to accept new fashions in religions. And yet I must confess + that there are some charming gods in the East. Your God, Mary, seems one + of these. You have told me that He loves little children, and that He + kisses them as they lie in the arms of their young mothers. By that I see + that He is a God who is favourable to women, and I regret that He is not + held in esteem among the aristocracy and the official classes, or I would + gladly bring him offerings of honey-cakes. But, listen, Mary the Jewess, + appeal to Him, you whom He loves, and demand of Him for me that which I + dare not demand myself, and which my goddesses have refused.” + </p> + <p> + Laeta Acilia uttered these words with hesitation. She paused and blushed. + </p> + <p> + “What is it,” Mary Magdalen asked eagerly, “and what desire, lady, has + your unsatisfied soul?” + </p> + <p> + Gaining courage little by little, Laeta Acilia replied: + </p> + <p> + “Mary, you are a woman, and though I know you not, I yet may confide to + you a woman’s secret. During the six years that I have been married I have + not had a child, and that is a great sorrow to me; I need a child to love; + the love in my heart for the little creature I am awaiting, and who yet + may never come, is stifling me. If your God, Mary Magdalen, grants me + through your intercession what my goddesses have denied me, I shall say + that He is a good God, and I will love Him and I will make my friends love + Him. And like us they are young and rich, and they belong to the first + families of the town.” + </p> + <p> + Mary Magdalen replied gravely: + </p> + <p> + “Daughter of the Romans, when you shall have received that for which you + ask, may you remember this promise that you have made to the servant of + Jesus.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall remember,” she replied. “In the meantime take this purse, Mary, + and divide the money it contains among your companions. Farewell, I shall + return to my house. As soon as I arrive I will send baskets full of bread + and meat for you and your friends. Tell your brother and your sister and + your friends that they may without fear leave the sanctuary where they + have taken refuge and go to some inn on the outskirts of the town. + Helvius, who has great influence in the town, will prevent any one + molesting them. May the gods protect you, Mary Magdalen! When it shall + please you to see me again ask of the passers-by for the house of Laeta + Acilia; any of the citizens will be able to show you the way without + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="101 (108K)" src="images/101.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + It was six months later that Laeta Acilia, lying on a purple couch in the + courtyard of her house, crooned a little song that had no sense and which + her mother had sung before her. The water sang gaily in the fountain out + of whose shallow basin rose young Tritons in marble, and the balmy-air + gently stirred the murmuring leaves of the old plane-tree. Tired, languid, + happy, heavy as a bee leaving the orchard, the young woman crossed her + arms over her rounded body, and, having ceased her song, glanced about her + and sighed in the fulness of pride. + </p> + <p> + At her feet her black, white and yellow slaves were busy with needle, + shuttle and spindle, vying with each other as they worked at the garments + for the expected infant. Laeta stretched out her hand and took a little + cap which an old slave laughingly offered her. She placed it on her closed + hand and laughed in turn. It was a little cap of purple and gold, silver + and pearls, and splendid as the dreams of a poor African slave. + </p> + <p> + At that moment a stranger entered this interior court. She was clothed in + a seamless garment of one piece, in colour like the dust of the roads. Her + long hair was covered with ashes, but her face, worn by tears, still shone + with glory and beauty. + </p> + <p> + The slaves, mistaking her for a beggar, were about to drive her away when + Laeta Acilia, recognising her at the first glance, rose and ran towards + her. + </p> + <p> + “Mary, Mary,” she cried, “it is true that you were the favourite of a god. + He whom you loved on earth has heard you in Heaven, and through your + intercession He has granted my prayer. See,” she added, and she showed her + the little cap which she still held in her hand, “how happy I am and how + grateful to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew it,” replied Mary Magdalen “and I have come, Laeta Acilia, to + instruct you in the truth of Jesus Christ.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the Marseillaise dismissed her slaves, and offered the Jewess an + ivory armchair with cushions embroidered in gold. But Mary Magdalen, + pushing it back with disgust, seated herself on the ground with feet + crossed in the shade of the great plane-tree stirred by the murmuring + breeze. + </p> + <p> + “Daughter of the Gentiles,” she said, “you have not despised the disciples + of the Lord. For this reason I will teach you to know Jesus as I know Him, + to the end that you shall love Him as I love Him. I was a sinner when I + saw for the first time the most beautiful of the sons of men.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon she told how she had thrown herself at the feet of Jesus in the + house of Simon the Leper, and how she had poured over the Master’s adored + feet all the ointment of spikenard contained in the alabaster vase. She + repeated the words the gentle Master had uttered in reply to the murmurs + of His rough disciples. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you reprove this woman?” He had said. “That which she has done is + well done. For the poor ye have always with you, but Me ye have not + always. She has with forethought anointed My body for My burial. I tell + you in truth that in the whole world, wherever the Gospel is preached, + shall be told what she has done, and she shall be praised.” + </p> + <p> + She then described how Jesus had cast out the seven devils that had raged + within her. + </p> + <p> + She added: + </p> + <p> + “Since then, enraptured and consumed by all the joys of faith and love, I + have lived in the shadow of the Master as in a new Eden.” + </p> + <p> + She told her of the lilies of the fields upon which they had gazed + together, and of that infinite happiness, the happiness born of faith + alone. Then she described how He had been betrayed and put to death for + the salvation of His people. She recalled the ineffable scenes of the + passion, the burial and the resurrection. + </p> + <p> + “It was I,” she cried, “it was I who of all was the first to see Him. I + found two angels clad in white seated, one at the head, the other at the + feet, where we had laid the body of Jesus. And they said to me: ‘Woman, + why weepest thou?’ ‘I weep because they have taken away my Lord, and I + know not where they have laid Him.’ + </p> + <p> + “O joy! Jesus came towards me, and at first I thought He was the gardener. + But he called me ‘Mary’ and I recognised His voice. I cried ‘Master’ and + held out my arms, but He replied gently, ‘Touch me not, for I am not yet + ascended to my Father.’” + </p> + <p> + As she listened to this narrative Laeta Acilia lost little by little her + sense of joy and contentment. Recalling the past and examining her own + life, it seemed to her very monotonous in comparison to the life of the + woman who had loved a god. Young and pious and a patrician, her own + red-letter days were those on which she had eaten cakes with her girl + friends. Visits to the circus, the love of Helvius and her needle-work + also counted in her life. But what were these all in comparison to the + scenes with which Mary Magdalen kindled her senses and her soul? She felt + her heart stifling with bitter jealousy and vague regrets. + </p> + <p> + She envied this Jewess, whose radiant beauty still glowed under the ashes + of penitence, her divine adventures, and even her sorrows. + </p> + <p> + “Begone, Jewess!” she cried, forcing back her tears with her hands. + “Begone! But a moment since I was so contented, I believed myself so + happy. I did not know that there were other joys than those which were + mine. I knew of no other love than that of my good Helvius, and I knew of + no other holy joy than to celebrate the mysteries of the goddesses in the + manner of my mother and of my grandmother. O, now I understand! Wicked + woman, you wished to make me discontented with the life I have led. But + you have not succeeded! Why have you come to tell me of your love for a + visible God? Why do you boast before me of having seen the resurrection of + the Master since I shall not see Him? You even hoped to spoil the joy that + is mine in bearing a child. It was wicked! I refuse to know your God. You + have loved Him too much! To please Him one is obliged to fall prostrate + and dishevelled at His feet. That is not an attitude which beseems the + wife of a noble! Helvius would be annoyed did I worship in such a way. I + will have nothing to do with a religion that disarranges one’s hair! No + indeed, I will not allow the little child I bear in my bosom to know your + Christ! Should this poor little creature be a daughter she shall learn to + love the little goddesses of baked clay that are not larger than my + finger, and with these she can play without fear. These are the proper + divinities for mothers and children. You are very audacious to boast of + your love affairs and to ask me to share them. How could your God be mine? + I have not led the life of a sinner, I have not been possessed of seven + devils, nor have I frequented the highways. I am a respectable woman. + Begone!” + </p> + <p> + And Mary Magdalen, perceiving that proselytising was not her vocation, + retired to a wild cavern since called the Holy Grotto. The sacred + historians believe unanimously that Laeta Acilia was not converted to the + faith of Christ until many years after this interview which I have + faithfully recorded. + </p> + <p> + A NOTE ON A POINT OF EXEGESIS + </p> + <p> + I have been reproached for having in this story confused Mary of Bethany, + sister of Martha, and Mary Magdalen. I must confess at once that the + Gospel seems to make of Mary who poured the perfume of spikenard over the + feet of Jesus and of Mary to whom the Master said: “<i>Noli me tangere?</i>,” + two women absolutely distinct. Upon this point I am willing to make amends + to those who have done me the honour to blame me. + </p> + <p> + Among the number is a princess who belongs to the Orthodox Greek Church. + This does not in the least surprise me. The Greeks have always + distinguished between the two Marys. It was not the same in the Western + Church. On the contrary, the identity of the sister of Martha and Magdalen + the sinner was early acknowledged. + </p> + <p> + The texts lend themselves but ill to this interpretation, but texts never + present difficulties to any one but the pundits; the poetry of the people + is more subtle than science: it can never be held in check, and it + overcomes the obstacles which prove a stumbling-block to criticism. By a + happy turn of the imagination popular fancy has welded the two Marys + together and thus created the marvellous type of Mary Magdalen. It has + been made sacred by legend, and it is the legend which has inspired my + little story. In this I consider myself above reproach. Nor is that all! I + am able, even, to invoke the authority of the learned, and I may, without + vanity, say that the Sorbonne is on my side. The Sorbonne declared on + December 1, 1521, that there is but one Mary. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img alt="112 (108K)" src="images/112.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE RED EGG + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + TO SAMUEL POZZI +</pre> + <p> + Dr. N——— placed his coffee-cup on the mantelpiece, threw + his cigar into the fire, and said to me: “My dear friend, you recently + told me of the strange suicide of a woman tortured by terror and remorse. + Her nature was fine and she was exquisitely cultivated. Being suspected of + complicity in a crime of which she had been the silent witness, in despair + at her own irreparable cowardice, she was haunted by a perpetual nightmare + in which her husband appeared to her dead and decomposing and pointing her + out with his finger to the inquisitive magistrates. She was the victim of + her own morbid imagination. In this condition an insignificant and casual + circumstane decided her fate. + </p> + <p> + “Her nephew, a child, lived with her. One morning he was, as usual, + studying his lessons in the dining-room where she happened to be. The + child began to translate word by word a verse of Sophocles, and as he + wrote he pronounced aloud both the Greek and the translation: + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:60%"> + <img src="images/100.jpg" alt="Greek Phrases 100 " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + The head divine; of Jocasta; is dead.... tearing her hair; she calls; + Laïos dead... we see; the woman hung. He added a flourish which tore the + paper, stuck out his ink-stained tongue, and repeated in sing-song, ‘Hung, + hung, hung!’ + </p> + <p> + “The wretched woman, whose will-power had been destroyed, passively obeyed + the suggestion in the word, repeated three times. She rose, and without a + word or look went straight to her room. Some hours later the + police-inspector, called to verify a violent death, made this reflection: + ‘I have seen many women who have committed suicide, but this is the first + time I have seen one who has hanged herself.’ + </p> + <p> + “We speak of suggestion. Here is an instance which is at once natural and + credible. I am a little doubtful, in spite of everything, of those which + are arranged in the medical schools. + </p> + <p> + “But that a being in whom the will-power is dead obeys every external + impulse is a truth which reason admits and which experience proves. The + example which you cited reminds me of another one somewhat similar. It is + that of my unfortunate comrade, Alexandre Le Mansel. A verse of Sophocles + killed your heroine. A phrase of Lampridius destroyed the friend of whom I + will tell you. + </p> + <p> + “Le Mansel, with whom I studied at the high school of Avranches, was + unlike all his comrades. He seemed at once younger and older than he + really was. Small and fragile, he was at fifteen years of age afraid of + everything that alarms little children. Darkness caused him an + overpowering terror, and he could never meet one of the servants of the + school, who happened to have a big lump on the top of his head, without + bursting into tears. And yet at times, when we saw him close at hand, he + looked quite old. His parched skin, glued to his temples, nourished his + thin hair very inadequately. His forehead was polished like that of a + middle-aged man. As for his eyes, they had no expression, and strangers + often thought he was blind. His mouth alone gave character to his face. + His sensitive lips expressed in turn a child-like joy and strange + sufferings. The sound of his voice was clear and charming. When he recited + his lessons he gave the verses their full harmony and rhythm, which made + us laugh very much. During recreation he willingly joined our games, and + he was not awkward, but he played with such feverish enthusiasm, and yet + he was so absent-minded, that some of us felt an insurmountable aversion + towards him. + </p> + <p> + “He was not popular, and we would have made him our butt had he not rather + overawed us by something of savage pride and by his reputation as a clever + scholar, for though he was unequal in his work he was often at the head of + his class. It was said that he would often talk in his sleep and that he + would leave his bed in the dormitory while sound asleep. This, however, we + had not observed for ourselves as we were at the age of sound sleep. + </p> + <p> + “For a long time he inspired me with more surprise than sympathy. Then of + a sudden we became friends during a walk which the whole class took to the + Abbey of Mont St. Michel. We tramped barefooted along the beach, carrying + our shoes and our bread at the end of a stick and singing at the top of + our voices. We passed the postern, and having thrown our bundles at the + foot of the ‘Michelettes,’ we sat down side by side on one of those + ancient iron cannons corroded by five centuries of rain and fog. + </p> + <p> + “Looking dreamily from the ancient stones to the sky, and swinging his + bare feet, he said to me: ‘Had I but lived in the time of those wars and + been a knight, I would have captured these two old cannons; I would have + captured twenty, I would have captured a hundred! I would have captured + all the cannons of the English. I would have fought single-handed in front + of this gate. And the Archangel Michel would have stood guard over my head + like a white cloud.’ + </p> + <p> + “These words and the slow chant in which he uttered them thrilled me. I + said to him, ‘I would have been your squire. I like you, Le Mansel; will + you be my friend?’ And I held my hand out to him and he took it solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “At the master’s command we put on our shoes, and our little band climbed + the steep ascent that leads to the abbey. Midway, near a spreading + fig-tree, we saw the cottage where Tiphaine Raguel, widow of Bertrand du + Guesdin, lived in peril of the sea. + </p> + <p> + “This dwelling is so small that it is a wonder that it was ever inhabited. + To have lived there the worthy Tiphaine must have been a queer old body, + or, rather, a saint living only the spiritual life. Le Mansel opened his + arms as if to embrace this sacred hut; then, falling on his knees, he + kissed the stones, heedless of the laughter of his comrades who, in their + merriment, began to pelt him with pebbles. I will not describe our walk + among the dungeons, the cloisters, the halls and the chapel. Le Mansel + seemed oblivious to everything. Indeed, I should not have recalled this + incident except to show how our friendship began. + </p> + <p> + “In the dormitory the next morning I was awakened by a voice at my ear + which said: + </p> + <p> + “‘Tiphaine is not dead,’ I rubbed my eyes as I saw Le Mansel in his shirt + at my side. I requested him rather rudely to let me sleep, and I thought + no more of this singular communication. + </p> + <p> + “From that day on I understood the character of our fellow pupil much + better than before, and I discovered an inordinate pride which I had never + before suspected. It will not surprise you if I acknowledge that at the + age of fifteen I was but a poor psychologist. But Le Mansel’s pride was + too subtle to strike one at once. It had no concrete shape, but seemed to + embrace remote phantasms. And yet it influenced all his feelings and gave + to his ideas, uncouth and incoherent though they were, something of unity. + </p> + <p> + “During the holidays that followed our walk to the Mont St. Michel, Le + Mansel invited me to spend a day at the home of his parents, who were + farmers and landowners at Saint Julien. + </p> + <p> + “My mother consented with some repugnance. Saint Julien is six kilometres + from the town. Having put on a white waistcoat and a smart blue tie I + started on my way there early one Sunday morning. + </p> + <p> + “Alexandre stood at the door waiting for me and smiling like a little + child. He took me by the hand and led me into the ‘parlour.’ The house, + half country, half town-like, was neither poor nor ill furnished. And yet + my heart was deeply oppressed when I entered, so great was the silence and + sadness that reigned. + </p> + <p> + “Near the window, whose curtains were slightly raised as if to satisfy + some timid curiosity, I saw a woman who seemed old, though I cannot be + sure that she was as old as she appeared to be. She was thin and yellow, + and her eyes, under their red lids glowed in their black sockets. Though + it was summer her body and her head were shrouded in some black woollen + material. But that which made her look most ghastly was a band of metal + which encircled her forehead like a diadem. + </p> + <p> + “‘This is mama,’ Le Mansel said to me, ‘she has a headache.’ + </p> + <p> + “Madam Le Mansel greeted me in a plaintive voice, and doubtless observing + my astonished glance at her forehead, said, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “‘What I wear on my forehead, young sir, is not a crown; it is a magnetic + band to cure my headache.’ I did my best to reply when Le Mansel dragged + me away to the garden, where we found a bald little man who flitted along + the paths like a ghost. He was so thin and so light that there seemed some + danger of his being blown away by the wind. His timid manner and lus long + and lean neck, when he bent forward, and his head, no larger than a man’s + fist, his shy side-glances and his skipping gait, his short arms uplifted + like a pair of flippers, gave him undeniably a great resemblance to a + plucked chicken. + </p> + <p> + “My friend, Le Mansel, explained that this was his father, but that they + were obliged to let him stay in the yard as he really only lived in the + company of his chickens, and he had in their society quite forgotten to + talk to human beings. As he spoke his father suddenly disappeared, and + very soon an ecstatic clucking filled the air. He was with his chickens. + </p> + <p> + “Le Mansel and I strolled several times around the garden and he told me + that at dinner, presently, I should see his grandmother, but that I was to + take no notice of what she said, as she was sometimes a little out of her + mind. Then he drew me aside into a pretty arbour and whispered, blushing: + </p> + <p> + “‘I have written some verses about Tiphaine Raguel. I’ll repeat them to + you some other time. You’ll see, you’ll see.’ + </p> + <p> + “The dinner-bell rang and we went into the dining-room. M. Le Mansel came + in with at basket full of eggs. + </p> + <p> + “‘Eighteen this morning,’ he said, and his voice sounded like a cluck. + </p> + <p> + “A most delicious omelette was served. I was seated between Madame Le + Mansel, who was moaning under her crown, and her mother, an old Normandy + woman with round cheeks, who, having lost all her teeth, smiled with her + eyes. She seemed very attractive to me. While we were eating roast-duck + and chicken <i>à la crème</i> the good lady told us some very amusing + stories, and, in spite of what her grandson had said, I did not observe + that her mind was in the slightest degree affected. On the contrary, she + seemed to be the life of the house. + </p> + <p> + “After dinner we adjourned to a little sitting-room whose walnut furniture + was covered with yellow Utrecht velvet. An ornamental clock between two + candelabra decorated the mantelpiece, and on the top of its black plinth, + and protected and covered by a glass globe, was a red egg. I do not know + why, once having observed it, I should have examined it so attentively. + Children have such unaccountable curiosity. However, I must say that the + egg was of a most wonderful and magnificent colour. It had no resemblance + whatever to those Easter eggs dyed in the juice of the beetroot, so much + admired by the urchins who stare in at the fruit-shops. It was of the + colour of royal purple. And with the indiscretion of my age I could not + resist saying as much. + </p> + <p> + “M. Le Mansel’s reply was a kind of crow which expressed his admiration. + </p> + <p> + “‘That egg, young sir,’ he added, ‘has not been dyed as you seem to think. + It was laid by a Cingalese hen in my poultry-yard just as you see it + there. It is a phenomenal egg.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You must not forget to say,’ Madame Le Mansel added in a plaintive + voice, ‘that this egg was laid the very day our Alexandre was born.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘That’s a fact,’ M. Le Mansel assented. + </p> + <p> + “In the meantime the old grandmother looked at me with sarcastic eyes, and + pressed her loose lips together and made a sign that I was not to believe + what I heard. + </p> + <p> + “‘Humph!’ she whispered, ‘chickens often sit on what they don’t lay, and + if some malicious neighbour slips into their nest a——’ + </p> + <p> + “Her grandson interrupted her fiercely. He was pale, and his hands shook. + </p> + <p> + “‘Don’t listen to her,’ he cried to me. ‘You know what I told you. Don’t + listen!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘It’s a fact!’ M. Le Mansel repeated, his round eye fixed in a side + glance at the red egg. + </p> + <p> + “My further connection with Alexandre Le Mansel contains nothing worth + relating. My friend often spoke of his verses to Tiphaine, but he never + showed them to me. Indeed, I very soon lost sight of him. My mother sent + me to Paris to finish my studies. I took my degree in two faculties, and + then I studied medicine. During the time that I was preparing my doctor’s + thesis I received a letter from my mother, who told me that poor Alexandre + had been very ailing, and that after a serious attack he had become timid + and excessively suspicious; that, however, he was quite harmless, and in + spite of the disordered state of his health and reason he showed an + extraordinary aptitude for mathematics. There was nothing in these tidings + to surprise me. Often, as I studied the diseases of the nervous centres, + my mind reverted to my poor friend at Saint Julien, and in spite of myself + I foresaw for him the general paralysis which inevitably threatened the + offspring of a mother racked by chronic nervous headaches and a rheumatic, + addle-brained father. + </p> + <p> + “The sequel, however, did not, apparently, prove me to be in the right. + Alexandre Le Mansel, as I heard from Avranches, regained his normal + health, and as he grew towards manhood gave active proof of the brilliancy + of his intellect. He worked with ardour at his mathematical studies, and + he even sent to the Academy of Sciences solutions of several problems + hitherto unsolved, which were found to be as elegant as they were + accurate. Absorbed in his work, he rarely found time to write to me. His + letters were affectionate, clear, and to the point, and nothing could be + found in them to arouse the mistrust of the most suspicious neurologist. + However, very soon after this our correspondence ceased, and I heard + nothing more of him for the next ten years. + </p> + <p> + “Last year I was greatly surprised when my servant brought me the card of + Alexandre Le Mansel, and said that the gentleman was waiting for me in the + ante-room. + </p> + <p> + “I was in my study consulting with a colleague on a matter of some + importance. However, I begged him to excuse me for a moment while I + hurried to greet my old friend. I found he had grown very old, bald, + haggard, and terribly emaciated. I took him by the arm and led him into + the <i>salon</i>. + </p> + <p> + “‘I am glad to see you again,’ he said, ‘and I have much to tell you. I am + exposed to the most unheard-of persecutions. But I have courage, and I + shall struggle bravely, and I shall triumph over my enemies.’ + </p> + <p> + “These words disquieted me, as they would have disquieted in my place any + other nerve specialist. I recognised a symptom of the disease which, by + the fatal laws of heredity, menaced my friend, and which had appeared to + be checked. + </p> + <p> + “‘My dear friend,’ I said, ‘we will talk about that presently. Wait here a + moment. I just want to finish something. In the meantime take a book and + amuse yourself.’ + </p> + <p> + “You know I have a great number of books, and my drawing-room contains + about six thousand volumes in three mahogany book-cases. Why, then, should + my unfortunate friend choose the very one likely to do him harm, and open + it at that fatal page? I conferred some twenty minutes longer with my + colleague, and having taken leave of him I returned to the room where I + had left Le Mansel. I found the unfortunate man in the most fearful + condition. He struck a book that lay open before him and, which I at once + recognised as a translation of the <i>Historia Augusta</i>. He recited at + the top of his voice this sentence of Lampridius: + </p> + <p> + “‘On the day of the birth of Alexander Severus, a chicken, belonging to + the father of the newly-born, laid a red egg—augury of the imperial + purple to which the child was destined.’ + </p> + <p> + “His excitement increased to fury. He foamed at the mouth. He cried: ‘The + egg, the egg of the day of my birth. I am an Emperor. I know that you want + to kill me. Keep away, you wretch!’ He strode down the room, then, + returning, came towards me with open arms. ‘My friend,’ he said, ‘my old + comrade, what do you wish me to bestow on you? An Emperor—an + Emperor.... My father was right.... the red egg. I must be an Emperor! + Scoundrel, why did you hide this book from me? This is a crime of high + treason; it shall be punished! ‘I shall be Emperor! Emperor! Yes, it is my + duty.... Forward.... forward!” + </p> + <p> + “He was gone. In vain I tried to detain him. He escaped me. You know the + rest. All the newspapers have described how, after leaving me, he bought a + revolver and blew out the brains of the sentry who tried to prevent his + forcing his way into the Elysée. + </p> + <p> + “And thus it happens that a sentence written by a Latin historian of the + fourth century was the cause, fifteen hundred years after, of the death in + our country of a wretched private soldier. Who will ever disentangle the + web of cause and effect? + </p> + <p> + “Who can venture to say, as he accomplishes some simple act: ‘I know what + I am doing.’ My dear friend, this is all I have to tell. The rest is of no + interest except in medical statistics. Le Mansel, shut up in an insane + asylum, remained for fifteen days a prey to the most violent mania. + Whereupon he fell into a state of complete imbecility, during which he + became so greedy that he even devoured the wax with which they polished + the floor. Three months later he was suffocated while trying to swallow a + sponge.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor ceased and lighted a cigarette. After a moment of silence, I + said to him, “You have told me a terrible story, doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “It is terrible,” he replied, “but it is true. I should be glad of a + little brandy.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div style='text-align:center'> + *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BALTHASAR, BY ANATOLE FRANCE *** + </div> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/22059-h/images/016.jpg b/22059-h/images/016.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b2b8ab --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/016.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/023.jpg b/22059-h/images/023.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..90ae5fb --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/023.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/035.jpg b/22059-h/images/035.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3058373 --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/035.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/042.jpg b/22059-h/images/042.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2fdeee --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/042.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/048.jpg b/22059-h/images/048.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c36f475 --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/048.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/072.jpg b/22059-h/images/072.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c869573 --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/072.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/094.jpg b/22059-h/images/094.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..67960e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/094.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/100.jpg b/22059-h/images/100.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..af44b88 --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/100.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/101.jpg b/22059-h/images/101.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..084ee75 --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/101.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/112.jpg b/22059-h/images/112.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e2bbb8a --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/112.jpg diff --git a/22059-h/images/titlepage.jpg b/22059-h/images/titlepage.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c68dd46 --- /dev/null +++ b/22059-h/images/titlepage.jpg |
