by Victor Hugo
CHAPTER IV.
THOLOMY?S SINGS A SPANISH SONG.
The whole of this day seemed to be composed of dawn; all nature seemedto be having a holiday, and laughing. The pastures of St. Cloud exhaledperfumes; the breeze from the Seine vaguely stirred the leaves; thebranches gesticulated in the wind; the bees were plundering thejessamine; a madcap swarm of butterflies settled down on the ragwort,the clover, and the wild oats; there was in the august park of theKing of France a pack of vagabonds, the birds. The four happy couplesenjoyed the sun, the fields, the flowers, and the trees. And in thiscommunity of Paradise, the girls, singing, talking, dancing, chasingbutterflies, picking bind-weed, wetting their stockings in the tallgrass, fresh, madcap, not bad, all received kisses from all the men,every now and then, save Fantine, enveloped in her vague resistance,dreamy and shy, and who was in love. "You always look strange,"Favourite said to her.
Such passings-by of happy couples are a profound appeal to life andnature, and bring caresses and light out of everything. Once upona time there was a fairy, who made fields and trees expressly forlovers; hence the eternal hedge-school of lovers, which incessantlyrecommences, and will last so long as there are bushes and scholars.Hence the popularity of spring among thinkers; the patrician and theknifegrinder, the duke and the limb of the law, people of the court andpeople of the city, as they were called formerly, are all subjects ofthis fairy. People laugh and seek each other; there is the brilliancyof an apotheosis in the air, for what a transfiguration is loving!Notary's clerks are gods. And then the little shrieks, pursuits in thegrass, waists caught hold of, that chattering which is so melodious,that adoration which breaks out in the way of uttering a word, cherriestorn from lips,--all this is glorious! People believe that it willnever end; philosophers, poets, artists, regard these ecstasies, andknow not what to do, as they are so dazzled by them. The departure forCythera! exclaims Watteau; Lancret, the painter of the middle classes,regards his cits flying away in the blue sky; Diderot stretches out hisarms to all these amourettes, and d'Urf? mixes up Druids with them.
After breakfast the four couples went to see, in what was then calledthe King's Square, a plant newly arrived from the Indies, whose namewe have forgotten, but which at that time attracted all Paris to St.Cloud; it was a strange and pretty shrub, whose numerous branches,fine as threads and leafless, were covered with a million of smallwhite flowers giving it the appearance of a head of hair swarmingwith flowers; there was always a crowd round it, admiring it. Afterinspecting the shrub, Tholomy?s exclaimed, "I will pay for donkeys;"and after making a bargain with the donkey-man, they returned byVauvres and Issy. At the latter place an incident occurred; the park,a national estate held at this time by Bourguin the contractor, wasaccidentally open. They passed through the gates, visited the waxhermit in his grotto, and tried the mysterious effect of the famouscabinet of mirrors, a lascivious trap, worthy of a satyr who had becomea millionnaire. They bravely pulled the large swing, fastened to thetwo chestnut-trees celebrated by the Abb? de Bernis. While swingingthe ladies in turn, which produced, amid general laughter, a flying ofskirts by which Greuze would have profited, the Toulousian Tholomy?s,who was somewhat of a Spaniard, as Toulouse is the cousin of Tolosa,sang to a melancholy tune the old gallega, which was probably inspiredby the sight of a pretty girl swinging between two trees,--
"Soy tie Badajoz Amor me llama Toda mi alma Es en mis ojos Porque enseflas A tus piernas."
Fantine alone declined to swing.
"I do not like people to be so affected," Favourite muttered rathersharply.
On giving up the donkeys there was fresh pleasure; the Seine wascrossed in a boat, and from Passy they walked to the Barri?re del'?toile. They had been afoot since five in the morning; but no matter!"There is no such thing as weariness on Sunday," said Favourite; "onSundays fatigue does not work." At about three o'clock, the fourcouples, wild with delight, turned into the Montagnes Busses, asingular building, which at that time occupied the heights of Beaujon,and whose winding line could be seen over the trees of the Champs?lys?es. From time to time Favourite exclaimed,--
"Where's the surprise? I insist on the surprise."
"Have patience," Tholomy?s answered.
