Complete Works of Emile Zola (1787 page)

“My friend,” he said, in a honeyed voice, “I do not wish to detain you any longer. Go about your business. I shall easily find my way again. I will even admit to you, that at a few leagues from here are a good people who must be greatly concerned at my absence. I am a king, if you must know everything. You are aware that kings are precious jewels, whom nations do not like to lose. Withdraw, therefore. It would be most improper to have to set down in history, one of these days, how the stupid obstinacy of a dog sufficed to overthrow a great empire. Would you like a post at my court? To be keeper of the viands at the palace? Tell me what position can I offer you, that your excellency may deign to withdraw?”

The dog did not move. Médéric thought to have got over him by the bait of an official post; he prepared to come down. The dog was undoubtedly not ambitious, for he growled afresh, standing up against the tree.

“The devil take you!” muttered Médéric.

Having exhausted his eloquence, he felt in his pockets. This is a means which usually proves successful, in so far as mankind is concerned. But what is the use of throwing a purse to a dog, unless to raise a bump on his head? Besides, Médéric was not a fellow to carry a purse about him; he looked on money as being absolutely useless, having always lived on principles of free trade. He found something better than a handful of coppers; I mean to say that he found a lump of sugar. As my hero was very greedy by nature, this find must in no way surprise you. I am anxious to point out to you how naturally all the details connected with this story occur, and how truthful they are.

Médéric, holding the sugar between his finger and thumb, showed it to the dog, who opened his mouth without more ado. Then the besieged came slowly down. When he was near the ground he let the prize drop; the dog snapped it up, swallowed it, and did not even lick his snout before setting upon Médéric.

“You villain,” shouted the latter, briskly ascending to his branch again, “you eat my sugar and want to bite me! Well, I can see you have been carefully brought up; you are an apt pupil of the egotism of your masters, cringing before them, and always eager for the flesh of passers-by.”

VII

WHEREIN SIDOINE BECOMES TALKATIVE

Médéric was about to continue in this strain, when he heard a rumbling noise behind him like the sound of a distant cataract. Not a breath of wind disturbed the leaves; the neighbouring stream flowed with too discreet a murmur to utter such complaints. Médéric, surprised, set aside the branches questioning the horizon. At the first glance he could see nothing; the landscape on this side spread out grey and barren, like a plain stretching from hillock to hillock, till it reached the mountains which formed its boundaries. But as the noise increased he looked more attentively, and then perceived a rock of peculiar construction rising from a dip in the earth. This rock — for it was difficult to take it for anything but a rock — was of the shape and colour of a nose, but of a gigantic nose, out of which several hundred ordinary noses might easily have been made. This nasal organ, turned in a despairing manner towards the sky, had the appearance of a nose which had had its placidity disturbed by some great sorrow. Without doubt it was this nose that was making the noise.

When Médéric had carefully examined the rock, he hesitated a moment, not daring to believe his eyes. Then finding himself on familiar ground, he could doubt no longer.

“Hallo, my beauty!” he exclaimed in astonishment, “why does your nose parade the fields all alone? May I die, if that is not it there, ready to faint away like a calf which is being slaughtered.”

At those words the nose — the rock, incredible though it seems, was nothing but a nose after all — the nose became pitifully excited. Something like a landslip occurred. A long greyish block, resembling a large obelisk lying on the ground, moved, bent itself double, rising from one end and stretching itself out from the other. A head appeared, a chest was defined, the whole joined to two legs, which, though out of proportion, would nevertheless have been called legs in all languages, both ancient and modern.

When Sidoine had assembled his limbs he assumed a sitting posture, his fists in his eyes, his knees high and wide apart He was sobbing in a heart-rending manner.

“Oh! oh!” said Médéric, “I was sure of it; in all the world there is but my beauty who has a nose of that size. I know that nose as well as I know my village steeple. Hallo I my poor brother, so you also have serious trouble. I assure you I only intended absenting myself for ten minutes at the most; if you find me again at the end of ten hours, it is assuredly the fault of the sun and of bushes laden with blackberries. We will forgive them. By the way, just fling that dog aside; we shall then be able to speak more comfortably.” Sidoine, still sobbing, stretched out his arm and seized the dog by the nape of the neck. He swung him for a moment, and sent him howling and writhing straight into the sky, with a speed of several thousand miles to a second. Médéric thoroughly enjoyed the ascent. He followed the animal with his eyes. When he saw it enter the magnetic sphere of the moon, he clapped his hands and congratulated his comrade on having at last peopled that satellite for the gratification of future astronomers.

“Now, my beauty,” he said, jumping to the ground, “what about our people?”

Sidoine, on hearing this question, began moaning afresh j rolling his head, and smearing his face with his tears.

“Pooh!” continued Médéric, “are our subjects dead? Did you annihilate them in a fit of spleen, considering the kingly people liable to abdication like all other monarchs?”

“Brother, brother,” sobbed Sidoine, “our subjects have behaved badly.”

“Really?”

“They lost their temper over a trifle—”

“The villains!”

“ — and turned me adrift—”

“The unmannerly creatures!”

“ — like no nobleman ever dismissed a footman.”

“Just look at the aristocrat!”

At each pause Sidoine uttered a deep sigh. When he came to a full stop in his speech, his emotion having reached its height, he again burst into tears.

“My beauty,” resumed Médéric, “it is no doubt disheartening for a master to be dismissed by his footmen; but I do not see in this a cause for such distress. If your grief did not once more bear witness to your kind heart and ignorance of social intercourse, I would reprove you for lamenting what is after all but a very frequent occurrence. One of these days we will take up the study of history; you will see it is an old habit of nations to ill-treat princes once they are tired of them. In spite of what some people say, God never had the strange fancy of creating a peculiar race with the object of imposing on His children, masters elected by Him from father to son. Do not therefore be surprised if those who are governed wish in their turn to govern, for every man has a right to that ambition. It is a relief to be able to reason out one’s misfortunes. Come, dry your tears. They would do credit to an effeminate creature, a braggart fed on praise who had forgotten his status as a man through practising that of a king too long. But we, monarchs of a day, know how to walk without other escort than our shadow, and bask in the sunshine, having for sole kingdom the dust on which we set our feet.”

“You take it easy,” answered Sidoine dolefully. “The profession pleased me. I fought to my heart’s content; I wore Sunday clothes every day of the week; I slept on fresh straw. Reason away and explain to your heart’s content; as for me, I wish to cry.”

And he wept; then, suddenly pausing in the midst of a sob, he said:

“This is how things came about—”

“My beauty,” interrupted Médéric, “you are becoming talkative. Despair is not good for you.”

“This morning at about six o’clock, as I was dreaming peacefully, I was awakened by a great noise. I opened an eye. The people surrounded my couch, and appeared very excited, awaiting my awakening with a view to some judgment. All right! said I to myself, this concerns Médéric; let us sleep again. And I did so. At the end of I don’t know how many minutes, I felt my subjects tugging respectfully at me by the comer of my royal smock. I was compelled to open both eyes. The people were growing impatient. What is amiss with my brother Médéric? thought I, in a bad humour. Thereupon I sat up. On perceiving this the good people surrounding me uttered a murmur of satisfaction. Do you understand me, brother; and cannot I relate when occasion offers?”

“Decidedly; but if you relate in that style you will be relating till to-morrow. What did our subjects want?”

“Ah! there you are. I do not think I quite understood them. An old man approached me leading a cow by a halter. He placed it at my feet, with its head turned towards me. Two groups formed on the right and left of the beast, facing each flank, and shaking their fists in each other’s faces. The one on the right shouted, ‘It is white!’ that on the left, ‘It is black!’ Then the old man, bowing repeatedly, said to me in a humble tone, ‘Sire, is it black, or is it white?’”

“But,” interrupted Médéric, “that was deep philosophy. Was the cow black, my beauty?”

“Not’ exactly.”

“Then it was white?”

“Oh! certainly not. Besides, I did not at first trouble much about the beast’s colour. It was you who had to reply. I had merely to look on. Still you did not speak I thought you were preparing your speech, and was about to settle down to sleep comfortably. The old fellow, who had bent himself in two to hear my answer, feeling his back ache, repeated, ‘Sire, is it white, or is it black?’”

“My beauty, you dramatise your story in accordance with all the rules of the art. If I only had time, I would make a tragic author of you. But go on.”

Ah! the sluggard!’ I said to myself at last, ‘he sleeps like a king.’ However, the people again became impatient It was a question of awakening you as quietly as possible without attracting their attention. I slipped a finger into my left ear; it was empty. I slipped it into my right ear; that was also empty. It was from the moment I made those movements that the people lost their temper.”

“No wonder! my beauty. Are you so ignorant of the art of pantomime? To scratch one’s ear signifies that one is puzzled, and when you have a judgment to deliver you go and scratch both!”

“Brother, I was greatly concerned. I rose without paying further attention to the people. I actively searched all my pockets, those of my smock, of my breeches; every one of them, in fact. Nothing in the left-hand, nothing in the right-hand pockets. My brother Médéric was no longer about me. For a moment I hoped I might find him in some out-of-the-way gusset. I examined the seams, looked over each fold. No one. There was no more a Médéric in my clothes than in my ears. The people, astounded at this strange performance, no doubt suspected me of seeking for an answer in my pockets; they waited a few moments, then began to hoot me with no more respect than if I had been the least deserving of consideration among the peasantry. Admit, brother, it required a strong head to escape safe and sound from such a situation.”

“I admit it willingly, my beauty. And what about the cow?”

“The cow! It was the cow that puzzled me. When I had ascertained that I must speak in public, I summoned all the common-sense I could master to my aid, to enable me to survey the cow without prejudice. The old man had just risen, calling out to me in an angry tone that everlasting sentence which was taken up in chorus by the people, ‘Is it white? is it black?’ On my word of honour, brother Médéric, it was both black and white. I perceived that whilst some would have it black, the others would have it white, and that is exactly what worried me.”

“You are very simple-minded, my beauty; the colour of objects depends on the position of the people. Those on the left and those on the right, only seeing one side of the cow at a time, were equally right and equally in error. You, looking straight at it, formed another opinion about it. Was this the correct one? I dare not say; for bear in mind that some one standing at the tail might have given utterance to a fourth opinion quite as logical as the three first.”

“Well, brother Médéric, why moralise so much? I don’t pretend I was the only one in the right. But I say the cow was both white and black; and I can certainly say this, as it is what I saw. My first idea was to impart to the crowd the truth revealed to me by my eyes, and I did so good-naturedly, being simple enough to think this conclusion the best possible one, as it ought to have satisfied every one, whilst giving offence to none.”

“What! my poor beauty, you spoke?”

“Could I remain silent? The people were there, their ears wide open, thirsting for verbosity as the earth hankers for rain after two months of drought The jocular ones, seeing my confused and stupid look, exclaimed that my warbler’s voice had disappeared just at the mating season. I turned my sentence over seven times in my mouth, then partly closing my eyelids, and rounding my arms, I uttered the following words in the most fluted voice possible: ‘My well-beloved subjects, the cow is both black and white!’”

“Oh dear me I my poor beauty, in what school did you learn to utter speeches consisting of one sentence? Have I ever set you such a bad example? You had there a subject to fill a couple of volumes, and you cast all the fruit of your observations into a dozen words! Of course you were understood: your speech was pitiable!”

“I believe you, brother. I had spoken very softly. One and all, men, women, children, old men, stopped up their ears, looking at each other affrighted, as though they had heard thunder rumbling overhead. Then they made a great outcry: ‘And who is the uncouth person who is bellowing like that?’ they inquired. Our king has been changed. This man is not our gentle lord, whose sweet voice charmed our ears. Be off with you quickly, wretched giant, whose only use is to frighten our daughters when they cry. Did you hear the simpleton affirm that this cow is white and black? It is white. It is black. Is he mocking us in stating that it is black and white? Come, be off with you. What a silly pair of fists! What ugly appendages, when he swings them stupidly about, as if he did not know what to do with them. Throw them aside, that you may run faster. You would cure us of having kings, if we could be cured of that ill. Come, be off quickly. Clear out of the kingdom. What possessed us to take a fancy to men several yards high? Nothing is more artistically constructed than gnats. We want a gnat.”