If the prodigy appeared mediocre to him, the audience was less demanding; a murmur of admiration, and also anxiety, ran around the onyx hall; all feet recoiled, crushing less rapid toes behind them; the prestige of the mystery petrified all valor, and warriors who would not have flinched before the points of spears moved aside fearfully to leave a wide passage for the sorcerer’s departure.
Princes Aude had held out her arms and run forward between the two rivals; she contemplated them in turn, discontented and perplexed, wondering which one was her adored.
Dieudonat saw her hesitate, and smiled; the smile on his mauve lips was hideous and tender,
Then she said to him: “You’re vile. I detest you. Go away.” Then she drew nearer to Galeas, who had the desired nostrils henceforth, and Dieudonat left.
In the vestibule, he encountered the maidservants, who were lying in wait for news, and who were trembling.
“Beautiful cousins who were so kind to me, I bid you adieu forever.”
They responded to him by pulling faces, mistaking him for Galeas, whom they execrated because of his hostility to their Prince. All of them had recognized their master’s garments, and several recognized his voice, but not one recognized his soul in the depths of his eyes. He felt a glacial chagrin: a chill descended into his heart, to which he had clasped them. Many a time they had given the illusion of melting two bodies and souls together into a single being possessed of a single soul, Nothing subsisted, therefore, of those sacred moments, not even the instinct of the memory that such a communion ought to have left. The inanity of embraces penetrated him with horror, and he wept for the first time in his life; but the tears only ran from his left eye.
“Adieu, Cleanthis, adieu, Lelia, adieu all of you who will never again see the master who was your friend, and who renounces living. But before I leave, tell me, like the princess, of what your amour was made, since a slight modification of my exterior cover has sufficed to detach you from the entire person?”
They thought that Galeas had gone mad, and, recoiling to the wall, they huddled together in order to avoid the person for whom they were mourning. The Prince went on. Only one person followed him at a distance, skimming the walls, and caught up with him.
“Milord…”
Touched by the courage of that devotion, the Prince turned round, and was glad to recognize the chief eunuch,
“My friend?”
“I heard, back there, the words that Milord spoke to the King, and saw what Milord did for the Archduke.”
“My duty, very meanly.”
“And when Milord spoke to the maidservants, when I was able to understand that he found amour deceptive...”
“Alas.”
“Then, I said to myself…I thought I was able to conclude…”
“Finish.”
“That Milord is disinteresting himself…that Milord in renouncing…the joys of this world...”
“I am repenting and going in search of penitence.”
“Precisely. And I said to myself: Milord will flee amour henceforth, and women, there’s no doubt about it; mow, Milord, who is good and can do whatever he wants, has already given one part of himself; perhaps Milord might deign to recognize the devotion of a zealous servant…by a little souvenir...nothing much…some trinket of which Milord had no more intention of making use...”
“I understand, Anoure.”
“Ah! Milord would fulfill the dream of my life!”
“To repudiate the crimes of my egotism and to repair the wrong that has been done to you, I yield to you what you ask. Go, and may your desires be accomplished.”
At those words, Anoure’s face went crimson; his little eyes, sunk in the fat, glistened with a new brightness. Whatever his contentment, the eunuch, returning to employment, scarcely took the time to say thank you. He ran into the palace, perhaps to verify the magician’s munificence, perhaps in the fear that the present might be revoked.
It was on that memorable occasion that Dieudonat was able to see the back of a truly happy man; while that rare object plunged into the shadow of a doorway, he examined it attentively; it was a very round back, tilted forward, as if it were bending under a burden of hopes, head down, running to adventure in the manner of a bull.
Then Dieudonat, his soul lightened a little, turned his back in his turn, and went away from the lovers.
XXIII. The most powerful of men undertakes a task
that encounters various obstacles
“Now I’m ugly, and neutered, rid of two advantages that might have served to do great harm...”
He emerged from Armida’s palace and went down the steps. The midday angelus was sounding in the belfries and the sun’s rays were perpendicular.
As he traversed the square where people had acclaimed him, but which was now deserted, he lowered his head toward the pavement white with light; the cubes of sandstone, worn by the friction of so much weariness, depressed by generations of poor people, impassive under the ever renewed burden of human distress, seemed to exhale toward him the mute confidence of the feet trailed over them, and in the creaking of stones overheated by the sun he thought he could hear the innumerable voice of the past.
“How many people have lived, Lord, how many have suffered here! And you have also wanted them to suffer because of me. Where are you taking me now? I’m going, but where am I going? The days that I live from now on belong to those who have suffered from my errors. But where are they?”
His head was so heavy, so weary, that he took refuge in the shade of a plane tree beside a fountain. He tried to think, and remained there with his head in his hands for a long time. He drank from the hollow of his hand; the ideas leaked out of his head like the fresh water through his fingers.
“Let’s go…at random. Let God guide me to my duty, if he deigns to do so.”
He started walking. Rare passers-by were beginning to traverse the square. Suddenly, a stranger, richly-dressed but whose garments were gray with dust and whose forehead as damp with sweat, ran toward him and embraced his knees, crying: “Highness! Highness!”
“Doubtless you’re mistaking me for Archduke Galeas. I’m not him, in spite of the resemblance that has deceived you.”
“Highness, I beg you, don’t joke. Your Highness hasn’t forgotten that he did me the honor of addressing himself to me when he wanted to contract a loan of a hundred thousand écus on the occasion of the tourney?”
“I’m not the person you think.”
“Highness, for pity’s sake! I only have hours to live! At sunset, if I haven’t paid forty thousand écus, I’ll be arrested. Two wretches have reduced me to the distress I which you see me: Vicomte d’Avatar and Prince Dieudonat.”
“Dieudonat? What has he done to you?”
“The story is simple, Milord. That Vicomte d’Avatar, whom Your Highness might know, as he’s been received at Court...”
“I met him once among brigands...”
“He arrived barefoot sixteen years ago; he interested me, or rather he charmed me, by means of his perverse grace and the elegance of his cynicism. Natures that are too honest sometimes have, once in their life, one on those bizarre tendernesses for vice. He dazzled me, I liked him, I helped him and nourished him, I made him my most intimate companion and I introduced him to my father’s friends. It was thus that he was able to frequent the house of a rich Lombard, seduce his only daughter and become his son-in-law, then his associate, and shortly thereafter his heir; today, omnipotent in the square, he has the ear of ministers and passes for an honest man. He hasn’t forgiven me for having been the confidant of his baseness and the artisan of his fortune; I could say too much about his life. He hates me. His wife is related to mine and he has all the conduits at the Palace. Both of them have become the mistresses of the filthy Dieudonat. Oh, what a scene when she came to me, who didn’t suspect anything, and threw herself at my knees, telling me about the irresistible sin and imploring my pardon.”
“So?”
“In order to console the sweet child and remove her from that accursed bewitchment I left everything there. The moment was ill-chosen. The enemy was lying in wait for me; this evening, he’ll execute me. My wife has decided to die with me, and she rejoices in it, saying that it’s deliverance. Anyway, what would she do on earth when I’m no longer here? Oh, to save her, and still live with her, beside her, for her! Life was so good to us! Your Highness will render us life!”
In a surge of his heart, Dieudonat resolved to do anything to repair the disaster of which he was the author; he formed the wish that forty thousand écus would be in the hand of the expectant man, but the hand remained empty, and the man said: “Your Highness isn’t going to give me any response?”
The sorcerer, with all his extended will-power, formed the wish for a second time. He observed the hand with anxiety; no coins or ingots appeared there. Then an anguish gripped his throat. My wishes are irrevocable! He understood that his previous wish no longer to make gold had been realized, like the others, and that his own will had given it up forever.
“Alas,” he said, “I can’t do anything for you.”
The man who was about to die bowed, without a response, and then took two steps backwards. “So be it,” he said.
“Don’t kill yourselves! Don’t damn your souls, think of eternal life!”
“Please, since it’s impossible for you to save us by acquitting your debts, let us die in peace.”
This time, he expressed himself with a calm imprinted with such a noble gravity that his executioner recognized therein the tranquility of the defunct; the condemned man, who had visibly accepted his destiny, was already bearing the seal of death. Dieudonat, struck with respect, bowed his head, and the living coffin moved away along the deserted street.
“That’s my fault! That’s my fault! Only having done harm with gold, I concluded stupidly that it’s evil, and I’ve abolished it for the moment when it would have been beneficent. I knew, however, Lord, that nothing is absolute, that nothing is good or evil in itself, and that our choice alone decides its virtues. I’ve commented on that verity in scholarly dissertations, but no more than an idiot did I think of making use of it. What difference have you made, then, Lord, between the imbecile and the sage?”
A voice in the wind replied to him: “Only one...”
Dieudonat slapped his forehead. “I only had to order him to live and I didn’t even think of it! Where is he now poor fellow!”
He stated running in the direction that the passer-by had taken. He searched for him to the right and the left, and hastened at random. The river barred his route, but a bridge extended before him; should he cross it or not?
“I want to encounter the individual who is going to die because of me! I wish it!”
At that moment, a woman who was leaning over the middle of the bridge and looking at the water, put her leg over the stone balustrade; he launched himself forward to retain her, and was able to grab the hem of her dress at the same time as he formulated a wish: Don’t jump!
She allowed herself to be led away, meekly, but she looked at her savior with a desolate expression. He had the impression of seeing that sweet face, those distant eyes, before and of having heard the same voice that was now groaning: “There’s no more place for me on earth: I’m going into the water!”
“Are you so desperate, then? Tell me the case, in order that I might help you.”
“I was in love. I gave myself. I’m going to be a mother. I’m shamed. My father threw me out. I’m all alone.”
“Marry your lover.”
“Paupers like me don’t marry princes like him.”
“He’s a prince? His name?”
“Dieudonat.”
The crowd, which was gathering, groaned; only then did the young woman perceive that people were listening; she hid her face.
“Why did you make me recount my dishonor before these people?”
“You’ll marry your prince, I promise.”
His audacity seemed grotesque; a worker started laughing. “Perhaps it’s you who can marry them by force?”
“Me. I’m Dieudonat.”
The hilarity was general, and the dolorous young woman was immediately forgotten. A fishwife yapped: “Dieudonat? Everyone knows his face. Haven’t you ever looked at your own profile?”
“He can’t—he only has one eye.”
“And he’s saying that with the voice of a eunuch!”
“I am, indeed, castrated, and I resemble Galeas, but I remain Dieudonat, in order to repair my sins; I’ll answer for you and for your child. Come.”
The unfortunate woman set forth obediently, but wrung her interlaced fingers and lamenting: “It isn’t you I love! I’ve never seen you before! Leave me alone!”
The worker elbowed his way forward. “That’s enough, now! If you don’t leave that girl in peace I’m going to get mixed up in it and throw you in the water.”
That energy obtained the approval of the people. A short petty bourgeois, aging and carefully shaven, advanced behind his spectacles and, looking at Dieudonat from chin-height, said: “Permit me to tell you that if you’re veritably a eunuch, it’s inconceivable that you can claim paternity of a child or that you can propose marriage to a young woman, but one can easily conceive that she rejects your civilities and complains of your persistence. It’s necessary to leave her alone; that’s my sentiment.”
“That’s good, that’s good!” cried the worker. “Trot along, beauty; we’ll take care of the eunuch. Go on!”
“Go away? Where can I go? I no longer have a home, I no longer have a family. I wanted to go into the water, and now I can’t any longer...”
She shook her hands above her head. Women drew her away. Dieudonat searched for his duty.
Gradually, the crowd dispersed behind him. The sun was already declining toward the horizon; the glorious river was heading toward that light, pushing its heavy waves like golden lava.
“That would truly have been a fine funeral bed!”
He watched the waves flowing, always the same, always the same.
“Oh, I’m weary Lord! How weary I am, and yet I’m beginning to hurt. I talk about repairing, and that’s how I repair! A happy couple, a wife and a husband, might have continued to bless life, and I let them die! A pair of wretches, a mother and child, will drag the ball and chain of the years, and I condemn them to live. I didn’t know! With a charitable intention, I prevent a woman from drowning, and when I’ve constrained her no longer to attempt to take her life, I glimpse that the tomb would be her only refuge; I didn’t know! In repenting of my faults, I’ve separated myself from that by which I sinned so much, granting my beauty to one man, my virility to another, and that double abnegation prevents me from saving a life broken by my caprice; I didn’t know! I never know! I only want to do good and I do nothing but harm! The best sentiments procure me the worst results. Everything is error; I heap stupidity upon stupidity. What difference do you make, then, Lord, between the imbecile and the sage?”
“Only one,” repeated the voice.
XXIV. The superior man gets rid
of what he had in his head
The pitiful philosopher turned round in order to see who had replied. He found no one behind him but the neat little old man, fully occupied for the moment in spreading the mist of his breath over the lenses of his spectacles
“What did you say?”
“I didn’t breathe a word; I was breathing on my spectacles, and I think I have the right, yes, sir, the right, without having to account for it.”
“I’m far from contesting it, and I only regret that you didn’t say anything, for you were speaking just now with a tone of certainty...”
“Know, sir, that no one has ever accused me of having any secret, and that I haven’t just arrived from my village; I know the world, sir, and as for certainty, I possess just as much as a man who has nothing for which to reproach himself. That’s my response, sir.”
“Nothing fo
r which to reproach yourself? Truly?”
“Know, sire, that my name is Leonard Dubois. Dubois, Leonard, yes, sir, and I’ve kept the State ledgers for thirty-five years, and no one, sir, has ever, not ever, done me the insult of doubting that I’m an honest man.”
“In that case, do you know where duty lies?”
“Duty, sir, how could I be ignorant of where duty lies?” The little old man adapted his spectacles slowly to the bridge of his nose, hooking the arms behind his ears, lowered his eyelids, and, with the tips of two parted fingers, made sure that the lenses were in front of his eyes, which he opened again with dignity. “Duty, sir, is doing what one ought to do. I know no other.”
“Ah! But how does one know what one ought to do?”
“An honest man is not unaware of what he ought to do, sir. That’s my sentiment.” He expressed himself with severity, and the intellectual effort had doubtless fatigued his brain, for he removed his hat in order to sponge his cranium, which was elongated in the form of a marrow, smooth and white. Dieudonat could not help admiring that object and finding it enviable. He said: “Note, however, that I was obeying a duty when I sacrificed myself in order to bring Princess Aude and Galeas together; now, that duty has made it impossible for me to fulfill another, which reveals itself to be more imperious, and of which I was unaware.”
On hearing those words, Master Leonard drew away slowly, moving backwards, as prudence counsels in confrontation with a lunatic. Ready to withdraw, but polite, he bowed, and thought that he had got out of it when Dieudonat retained him by the sleeve.
“Don’t touch me, I beg you. I don’t accept anyone touching me; that’s my sentiment.”
“I only desire to ask you a question.”
“Ask, sir, but at a distance; I won’t refuse you my illumination.”
“So far as I can judge, Master Leonard, in accordance with your own eminently judicious words, I imagine that it must have happened to you many a time, in the course of your career to encounter uncouth individuals...”
Dieudonat Page 17
