Collected Works of Eugène Sue

by Eugène Sue

  ‘And why did the banker Jonas unjustly withhold your salary?’ continued Peter; ‘because, as the prophet again says, ‘Avarice is like the horse-leech; it hath two daughters, crying, ‘give! give!’

  ‘And these great bloodsuckers,’ exclaimed Banaias, ‘shall they not one day disgorge all the blood they have sucked from the poor workmen, widows and orphans?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ replied the disciple, ‘our prophets and Jesus have announced, ‘For them shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth; but when once the tares, which stifle the grain, is separated, the wicked kings, the avaricious, and the usurers extirpated from the earth, all the juices of which they suck out, then shall come the day of happiness for all, justice for all; and this day arrived,’ say the prophets, ‘people shall no longer arm themselves against each other; their swords shall be turned into reaping hooks, their lances into spades; one nation shall no longer declare war against another nation; they shall no longer make war, but each shall sit beneath his own fig-tree or his vine, without fear of any one; the work of justice shall be the security, the peace and the happiness of every one. At that time, lastly, the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the lion and the sheep shall rest together, and a little child shall lead them all.’

  This charming picture of universal peace and happiness appeared to make a deep impression on Peter’s auditory. Many voices exclaimed:

  ‘Oh! may these times come! for where is the use of people murdering people?’

  ‘What bloodshed!’

  ‘And who profits by it? The conquering Pharaohs! Men of blood, of battle, and of rapine.’

  ‘Oh! may the time of happiness, justice and gentleness come; and, as the prophets say, ‘a little child shall lead us all.’

  ‘Yes, a little child will suffice; for we shall be gentle because we shall be happy,’ said Banaias; ‘whereas now we are so unhappy, so enraged, that a hundred giants would not be sufficient to restrain us.’

  ‘And these times come,’ continued Peter; ‘all having a share in the good of the earth, fertilized by the labor of each, all being sure of living in peace and contentment, we shall no longer see the idle living on the fruits of another’s labor. Has not the Lord said through the son of David, one of his elected:

  “I hated all my labor which I have taken under the sun, because I should leave it to the man that should come after me.

  “For there is a man who labors with wisdom, with science, and with industry, and he shall leave all he has acquired to a man who has given to it no labor: and who knows not if he will be prudent or foolish?

  “Now, this is vanity and great affliction.”

  ‘You know,’ added the apostle, ‘the voice of the son of David is as sacred as justice. No, he who has not labored ought not to profit by the labor of another!’

  ‘But suppose I have a child,’ said a voice; ‘suppose, by depriving myself of sleep, and a portion of my daily bread, I continue to spare something for him, that he might not know the miseries I have suffered, is it unjust, then?’

  ‘Eh! who speaks to you of the present?’ exclaimed Peter; ‘who speaks to you of these times, in which the strong oppress the weak, the rich the poor, the unjust the just, the master the slave? In times of storm and tempest, each builds up as he can a shelter for him and his: this is but right. — But when the time promised by our prophets shall come, a divine time, when a benificent sun shall always blaze, when there shall be no more storms, when the birth of every child shall be welcomed by joyous songs, as a blessing from the Lord, instead of being lamented as an affliction, as at present; because, conceived in tears, man, in our time, lives and dies in tears; when, on the contrary, the child conceived in joy, shall live in joy; when labor, now crushing, shall be itself a joy, so shall the fruits of the promised land be abundant; each tranquil as to the prosperity of his children, shall no longer have to think for them, to lay up treasures for them, by depriving himself, and wasting away by over-fatigue. No, no: when Israel shall at length enjoy the kingdom of God, each shall labor for all, and all shall enjoy the labor of each.’

  ‘Whereas now,’ said the artizan, who had complained of the injustice of the banker Jonas, ‘all labor for a few, these few labor for no one, and benefit from the labor of all.’

  ‘But for those,’ replied Peter, ‘our master of Nazareth hath said: ‘The son of man shall send his angels, who shall gather together and carry out of his kingdom all who are scandalous, and who commit iniquity; these shall be thrown into a fiery furnace, where there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

  ‘And it will be justice,’ said Oliba the courtezan; ’is it not they who force us to sell our bodies to escape the gnashing of teeth caused by hunger?’

  ‘Is it not they who force mothers to make a traffic of their daughters rather than see them die of misery?’ said another courtezan.

  ‘Oh! when will the day of justice come?’

  ‘It comes, it approaches,’ replied Peter in a loud voice; ‘for evil, and iniquity and violence are everywhere; not only here in Juda, but throughout the whole world, which is the Roman world. Oh! the woes of Israel are nothing; no, nothing in comparison to the woes that afflict the nations, her sisters! The whole universe groans and bleeds beneath the triple yoke of Roman ferocity, debauchery, and cupidity! From one end of the earth to the other, from Syria to oppressed Gaul, we hear nothing but the clank of chains and the groans of the slaves crushed with labor; unhappy amongst the unhappy! they sweat blood from every pore! More to be pitied than the wild beast dying in his den, or the beast of burthen dying on his litter; these slaves are tortured, are killed, or given at pleasure to the teeth of wild beasts! Do valiant peoples like the Gauls seek to break their chains, they are drowned in their own blood; and I, I speak the truth to you, in the name of Jesus, our master; yes, I tell you the truth, this cannot last.’

  ‘No, no!’ exclaimed several voices; ‘no, this cannot endure!’

  ‘Our master is grieved,’ continued the disciple; ‘oh! grieved to the death in thinking of the horrible miseries, the vengeances, and fearful reprisals which so many ages of oppression and iniquity will let loose upon the earth. The day before yesterday, at Bethlehem, our master said to us:

  “When you hear of sedition and wars, be not alarmed; these things must arrive first, but their end will not come so soon.”

  ‘Listen,’ said several voices, ‘listen.’

  “We shall see,” added Jesus, “people rise against people, kingdom against kingdom; so shall men pine away with fear in the expectation of all that is to happen in the universe, for the virtues of heaven shall be shaken.”

  A sullen murmur of fear circulated through the crowd at these prophecies of Jesus of Nazareth recounted by Peter, and several voices exclaimed: —

  ‘Mighty storms, then, will burst forth in heaven.’

  ‘So much the better; these clouds of iniquity must burst, that the heavens may be cleared and the eternal sun be resplendent.’

  ‘And if they gnash their teeth on earth before grinding them in eternal fire, these rich, these high priests, these crowned king Pharaoh’s, they have brought it on themselves,’ exclaimed Banaias; ‘they have brought it on themselves.’

  ‘Yes, yes, it’s true.’

  ‘Oh!’ continued Banaias, ‘this is not the first time the prophets have shouted in their ears!

  ‘Amend your lives! be good! be just! be merciful! Look down at your feet instead of admiring yourselves in your pride! What! reptiles that you are, you reject from your plates the most delicate meats!

  ‘You fall down gorged with wine; next your cups filled to the very brims; you ask yourselves, shall I put on to-day my furred robe with the gold embroidery, or my robe of plush, embroidered with silver? And your neighbor, shivering with cold beneath his rags, cannot simply taste from your cup, or lick up the crumbs of your feasts? By the entrails of Jeremiah, can it endure for any length of time?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ cried seve
ral voices, ‘this has lasted long enough — the most patient weary toward the end!’

  ‘The quietest bullock finishes by turning against the spur!’

  ‘And what spur is there like hunger?’

  ‘Yes,’ continued Peter, ‘yes, this has endured long enough; yes, it has endured too long; therefore, Jesus, our master, hath said:

  “The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor — he hath sent me to heal the broken hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind; to preach the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day when he shall avenge himself on his enemies.”

  These words of the Nazarene, quoted by Peter, excited a fresh enthusiasm, and Genevieve heard one of the two secret emissaries of the law and the high-priests say to his companion:

  ‘This time the Nazarene shall not escape us, such words are really too seditious and outrageous!’

  But a new and loud rumor was soon heard outside the tavern of the ‘Wild Ass,’ and there was but one cry repeated by all:

  ‘’Tis he, ’tis he!’

  ‘’Tis our friend!’

  ‘Here is Jesus, here he is!’

  CHAPTER III.

  THE CROWD THAT filled the tavern, now learning the arrival of Jesus of Nazareth, urged and pressed each other to go and meet the young master; mothers, who held their little infants in their arms, endeavored to arrive the first near Jesus, the infirm, resuming their crutches, begged their neighbors to open a passage for them. Such was already the penetrating and charitable influence of the words of the son of Mary, that the strong moved aside to allow the mothers and the suffering to approach him.

  Jane, Aurelia and her slave shared the general emotion; Genevieve especially, daughter, wife, and, perhaps, one day a mother of slaves, experienced an unusual beating of the heart at the sight of him who came, he said, to announce to the captives their deliverance, and set at liberty those who were crushed beneath their chains. At length Genevieve perceived him.

  The son of Mary, the friend of little children, of poor mothers, of the suffering and of slaves, was habited like the other Israelites, his countrymen; he wore a robe of white cloth, secured round his waist by a leathern belt from which hung his purse or money-bag; a square mantle of blue depended from his shoulders.

  His long chestnut hair, bright as new-coined gold, fell on each side of his pale face of an angelic sweetness; his lips and chin were half shaded by a slight beard, with golden reflections like his hair. His manner was cordial and familiar; he affectionately shook the hands of all that were tendered him.

  He frequently stooped down to kiss some ragged little children who held the lappets of his robe, and, smiling ineffably, he said to those who surrounded him:

  ‘Let the little children approach me.’

  Judas, a man with a sinister and deceptive countenance, and Simon, other disciples of Jesus, accompanied him and carried each of them a box, in which the son of Mary, after questioning each patient and attentively listening to his reply, took several medicaments which he gave to the infirm and to the women who came to consult his science, either for themselves or for their children.

  Frequently, to the balsams and advice he distributed, Jesus added a gift of money, which he drew from the bag at his girdle; he so often dipped into this purse, that having a last time plunged in his hand, he smiled mournfully on finding the little pocket empty. So, after turning all manner of ways, he made a sign of touching regret, as if to show that he had nothing to give. Then, those whom he had assisted with his counsels, his balms, and his money, thanked him warmly; he said to them in his gentle voice:

  ‘’Tis Almighty God, the Father of us all, who is in Heaven, that you must thank, and not me — peace be with you.’

  ‘If your treasury of money is empty, friend, you have still an inexhaustible treasure, that of good words,’ said Banaias; for he had contrived to approach quite close to Jesus of Nazareth, and he contemplated him with a mixture of respect and emotion that made his ferocious traits forgotten.

  ‘Yes,’ replied another; ‘tell us, Jesus, of things which we poor and humble can comprehend, the language of our holy and divine prophet, but often obscure to us poor people.’

  ‘Oh, yes; our good Jesus,’ added a pretty child, who had glided into the front rank, and held one flap of the robe of the young man of Nazareth, ‘recount to us one of those parables that delight us so much, and which we repeat to our mothers and brothers.’

  ‘No, no,’ said other voices; ‘before the parable, make one of your noble discourses against the wicked rich, the powerful and the proud.’

  But Mary’s son pointed with a smile to the little child who had first demanded a parable, and took him on his knees, after seating himself near a table; thus showing his love for infancy. Mary’s son seemed to say that this dear little one should be first satisfied in his desire. All, then, grouped round Jesus; the children who loved him so sat down at his feet; Oliba and other courtezans also seated themselves on the ground in the Eastern fashion, embracing their knees with their hands, and their eyes fixed on the young man of Nazareth, in anxious expectation. Banaias, and several of his like, crowding behind the young man, recommended silence to the eager multitude. Others, lastly, more distant, such as Jane, Aurelia, and her slave Genevieve, formed a second rank by mounting on the benches. Jesus, still holding on his knee the little child, who with one of his tiny arms resting on the shoulder of the son of Mary, seemed suspended from his lips, commenced the following parable: ‘A man had two sons, and the younger of them said to his father: ‘Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me.’ And the father divided his goods. A short time after, the youngest of the sons gathered together all he had and went into a distant country and dissipated his portion. And after he had spent all, a great famine arose in the land, and he began to be in want. He therefore went into service with an inhabitant of the country, who sent him into the fields to feed swine. There he would willingly have filled his belly with the husks the swine did eat, but no man gave unto him.’

  At these words of the parable the child which Mary’s son held upon his knees uttered a deep sigh, joining his little hands in a pitying manner. Jesus continued:

  ‘At length returning to himself, the prodigal son said, “How many servants of my father have bread enough and to spare, and I perish of hunger? I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him: father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants.” And he arose and went to his father; but when he was yet a great way off, his father perceived him, and moved with compassion, he ran to him and fell on his neck and kissed him.

  ‘And his son said to him: “My father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, I am no more worthy to be called thy son.”

  ‘But the father said to his servants:

  “Bring forth the best robe and put it on him; and put a ring on his finger and shoes on his feet; and bring hither the fatted calf and kill it; and let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.”

  ‘Oh! the kind father!’ said the child on the knees of Jesus. ‘Oh! the good and tender father, who pardons and embraces instead of scolding!’

  Jesus smiled, kissed the child’s forehead, and continued:

  ‘And they began to be merry. But the elder brother, who was in the field returned, and when he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. He therefore called one of the servants, and asked what all this meant. The servant replied to him:

  “Thy brother is come, and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath found him safe and sound;” which made the elder brother angry, and he would not go in; therefore his father came out and entreated him. But his son replied to him: “These many years have I served thee, neither have I at any time transgressed thy command; and yet thou never gavest me a kid that I might make merry with my
friends. But as soon as this, thy son, who has squandered his living with harlots, is returned, thou hast had the fatted calf killed for him.”’

  ‘Oh! how wicked is the eldest son!’ said the child; ‘he is jealous of his poor brother, who returns, however, very unhappy to the house. God will not love this jealous son; will he, my good Jesus?’

  Mary’s son shook his head, as if to reply to the child that the Lord did not indeed love the jealous: he then continued, —

  ‘But the father said to the son: “My son, thou art always with me, and all that I have is thine; it was fit that we should make merry and be glad; for this, thy brother, was dead, and is alive again; was lost, and is found.”’

  All who were present seemed moved to tears at this recital. Mary’s son having stopped to drink a glass of wine, which Judas, his disciple, poured out for him, Banaias, who had listened to him with profound attention, exclaimed: ‘Friend, do you know that this is very much my own history, and that of many others. For if, after my own first folly of youth, my father had imitated the father in your parable, and had tendered me his hand as a sign of pardon, instead of driving me from the house with his stick, I should be at this hour, perhaps, seated at my honest fireside, in the midst of my family; whereas, now my home is in the highway, misery my wife, and my children evil projects, sons of misery, that mother with the ferocious eye. Ah! why had I not for a father the man in the parable?’

  ‘This indulgent father pardoned,’ replied Oliba the courtezan, ‘because he knew that God, having given youth to his creatures, sometimes abuse it; but those who, reviled, miserable and repentant, return humbly to demand the smallest place in the paternal mansion, these, far from being repulsed, ought they not to be received with pity?’

  ‘I,’ said another, ‘would not give a grapestone for this elder brother, this man of wealth, so harsh, so coarse, and so jealous, to whom virtue costs nothing.’