Complete Works of Emile Zola (1786 page)

Captain and soldiers withdrew without further ado, delighted with a prince who was so easy to serve. Then our friends, glad that they were alone, were able to talk freely about the astonishing adventures that had befallen them since morning. I mean to say, you understand, that Médéric chattered away for half an hour, moralising on everything, begging his beauty to carefully follow the thread of his reasoning. At the first words the beauty snored like a top. Our chatterbox no longer understanding what he meant himself, postponed the remainder of his observations to the following day. It was thus that King Sidoine I. spent his first night in the open air, in a deserted field, at the gates of his capital.

The events which took place on the following days are not worthy of being recorded in detail, though they were as strange and marvellous as all those I have selected in which the heroes took part. Our king in two persons — see on what a mystery rests! — having accepted the crown out of sheer good nature, avoided attempting the slightest reform. He allowed the people to act according to their own will, which is recognised to be the best way of reigning; the easiest for the sovereign, the most profitable for the subjects.

At the end of a week Sidoine had already won five pitched battles. He felt called upon to lead his army to the two first. But he soon perceived that instead of rendering him assistance, it impeded him by getting between his legs, and running the risk of receiving kicks. He therefore determined to disband the troops, declaring that in future he, alone, would take the field. This was the subject of a fine proclamation, which began in this remarkable manner: “There is nothing so satisfactory in fighting as to know why one does so. Therefore, as the king, when he declares war, alone knows the cause of his good pleasure, logic demands that the king, alone, should fight.” The soldiers greatly appreciated these ideas; in truth, for want of a good reason for going on fighting, they had turned tail in many battles. They had also often expressed astonishment, when talking at evening in the ambulances with wounded foes, of the peculiar custom of princes, who had fists like all the world, and yet who caused thousands of men to be killed to satisfy their private quarrels.

But if you recollect the charter, you will remember that the Blues had chosen a master with the sole object of being diverted by seeing and hearing him act with his fists and tongue. The army therefore obtained leave to follow its chief at a distance of two kilometres. In this manner it had the pleasure of witnessing battles, without running any of the attendant risks.

Médéric spoke even more than Sidoine fought. By the end of a week he had already enriched the literature of the country with thirteen bulky volumes. When he awoke on the third day he discovered that he knew Greek and Latin without having learnt these languages at any college; he was thus able to quote ten pages of Demosthenes in answer to the prince of orators, who had thought to puzzle him by reciting five pages of Cicero. From that moment, which was that when the nation ceased to understand him, the orator-king acquired even more popularity than the warrior-king.

In point of fact the Blue nation was in rapturous transports. It at length possessed the long-dreamt-of prince, an ideal prince, devoting his energies to its pleasures, never interfering in serious matters. Still as a people, even a satisfied people, always grumbles a little, the worthy man was credited with peculiar tastes; as, for example, his obstinacy in insisting on sleeping in the open air. Besides, I believe I told you that Sidoine was a great fop; so soon as he had a budget within reach, he quickly discarded his wolves’ skins for magnificent garments of silk and velvet, finding some compensation in gazing at himself, for the cares of his new profession. He was blamed for this innocent pleasure though he entailed no other expense; he was accused of requiring too much satin, of tearing too much lace. Dew, it is true, spots fine materials, and there is nothing that cuts them like straw. Now, Sidoine slept without undressing himself.

In conclusion, there were scarcely more than five or six thousand discontented persons in this kingdom of thirty million men; courtiers without occupation who had put their backs up, people with irritable nerves whom the long speeches made feverish, and more especially perverse creatures who were angry at public peace. After reigning a week, Sidoine could have appealed to universal suffrage without fear.

When Médéric awoke on the ninth day, he was seized with a longing to run about the fields. He was tired of living confined to the house, I mean in Sidoine’s ear; he was bored at playing the part of a mere mind. He descended slowly. His beauty was still sleeping, and as he only intended to be away a quarter of an hour, he did not inform him of his proposed walk.

A fresh April morning is a delightful thing. The sky was vaulted pale and high. A clear sun, with a white glow and without heat, was rising above the mountains. The leaves which had expanded on the previous day shone in green tufts in the country; the rocks and land stood out in large yellow and red patches. One might have said, on seeing how clean everything appeared, that all nature was new.

Médéric, before proceeding further, paused on a hillock. Then, having sufficiently admired the great place as a whole, he thought of taking advantage of the pleasures of the lanes without troubling about the horizon. He went along the firs’ path he came to; then, when he reached the end, took another. He lost his way amidst the sweet-briers, ran in the grass, stretched himself on the moss, tired out the echo with his voice, endeavouring to make a great noise because he found himself surrounded by absolute silence. He admired the fields in detail and in his own way, which is the correct one, catching glimpses of the sky through the trees, creating a universe for himself from a hollow bush, discovering fresh worlds at each turn of the hedges. He became tipsy by inhaling too much of the pure and rather chilly air he found in the avenues, and ended by stopping, out of breath, delighted with the white rays of the sun and the charming tones of the landscape.

Now, he paused at the foot of a high bramble hedge, those brambles with coarse leaves and long thorny branches, which certainly produce the best fruit a man of refined taste can eat. I am speaking of those luscious clusters of wild blackberries, pervaded with the perfume of the neighbouring lavender and rosemary. Do you remember how appetising they are, black beneath green leaves, and the fresh flavour, partly sweet and partly sour, which they have for palates worthy of appreciating them?

Médéric, like all who love freedom and a vagabond life, was a large consumer of blackberries. He was rather proud of it, having only met, during his meals along the hedges, simple-minded creatures, dreamers and lovers; which led him to conclude that fools could not appreciate this savoury fruit, and that they were a feast bestowed by angels in paradise on the good souls in this world. Simpletons are far too stupid to appreciate such a treat; they are only comfortable when seated at a table cutting huge pears which melt into pure water. A fine task, indeed, requiring only a knife; whereas in order to eat blackberries a dozen rare qualities are necessary: the correct eye which discovers the most exquisite hedges, those where the sun’s rays and the dew have ripened the fruit to a turn; the knowledge of thorns, that marvellous power of searching in a thicket without scratching one’s-self; the wit to know how to waste one’s time, to spend an entire morning over one’s breakfast, whilst walking two or three leagues along a path fifty strides long. I am passing over other qualities that are equally deserving of mention. Some people will never attempt to lead this life of poets, feed on pure air, moralise or sleep between two morsels. Idlers, chosen children of heaven, alone know the refinements of this pleasant occupation.

That is why Médéric prided himself on his love for blackberries.

The brambles in front of which he had just stopped were laden with an abundance of rich bunches. He was in raptures.

“Good gracious,” he exclaimed, “what fine fruit, what a marvel. Blackberries in April, and blackberries of such a size; this seems to me as surprising as a pail of water turned into wine. It has been well said that nothing strengthens faith like the sight of the supernatural; for the future I will believe all the old women’s tales told me in childhood Personally I appreciate miracles when they fill my glass or my plate. Now to breakfast, as it has pleased Providence to alter the course of the seasons in order to provide me with what I like.”

Saying this, Médéric gracefully stretched out his fingers and seized a large berry which would have provided a meal for two sparrows. He enjoyed it leisurely, then smacked his lips, nodding his head in a satisfied manner, like a connoisseur tasting old wine. Then the brand being sampled, the breakfast began. The glutton went from bush to bush, inhaling the sunshine in the intervals, discovering differences in taste, unable to make up his mind. Whilst walking, he discoursed aloud, having acquired the habit of soliloquy when in company with the silent Sidoine; when alone, he nevertheless addressed his friend, concluding that his presence was of little importance to the conversation.

“My beauty,” he said, “I do not know of any more philosophical task than that of eating blackberries along the lanes. It is quite a lifelong apprenticeship. See what skill one must display to reach the high branches, which, bear in mind, always present the choicest fruit. I make them bend by drawing the lowest boughs down by degrees; a fool would break them, but I let them spring back to provide for next season. There are also the thorns, which scratch clumsy people. I utilise them; they serve me as hooks in performing this delicate operation. If you wish to judge a man and know him as thoroughly as God who created him, place him with an empty stomach in front of a bramble bush laden with berries on a bright morning. Ah! poor fellow! a blackberry at the end of a high branch suffices to awaken the seven deadly sins.”

And Médéric, quite pleased to exist, ate, made speeches, and blinked his eyes so as to take in his little scene of action more satisfactorily. Apart from this he had utterly forgotten his majesty Sidoine I., the Blue nation, and all the regal comedy. The king in two persons had left his body amongst his subjects; his mind was roaming in the fields, lost among the hedges, thoroughly enjoying itself. It is thus, at night, that the soul takes its flight on the wings of a dream to sport in some unknown corner, oblivious of the prison from which it has escaped. Is not this comparison very ingenious? And though I denied concealing a philosophical truth beneath this slight veil of fiction, does it not tell you the opinion you should form of my giant and dwarf?

However, as Médéric was making sweet eyes at a blackberry, he was recalled to the sad realities of life in the most unforeseen manner. A bull-dog, and not one of the smallest, suddenly came dashing along the pathway, barking loudly, and showing his white teeth and bloodshot eyes. Have you noticed, Ninette, the nice hospitable character of dogs in the country? When these faithful animals have received the benefits of education from man, they possess the sense of ownership in the highest degree. They consider it a crime to tread on another’s ground. This one, who would have devoured Médéric for merely removing the quantity of earth that clings to the boots of a passer-by, became furious on seeing him eat the blackberries that grew freely at the will of sun and rain. He rushed at him with open jaw.

Médéric certainly did not expect him. He had a confirmed hatred for those great beasts of brutal appearance, who are considered amongst animals what gendarmes are amongst men. He scampered off, full speed, frightened and alarmed as to the consequences of this ill-fated meeting. He did not reason on this occasion; but as from habit he had become very logical, though he had lost his head, he set himself the following proposition: This dog has four legs; I have two, which are weaker and less fit. He deduced from it: He is able to run farther and quicker than I. He was naturally led to think: I shall be devoured; and ended in victoriously concluding: It is merely a question of time. The conclusion gave him cold shivers. He turned and saw the dog ten paces off; he ran faster, the dog ran faster still; he jumped a ditch, the dog followed him. Breathless, with outstretched arms, he continued without a will; he felt sharp fangs entering his flesh, and with closed lids saw two bloodshot eyes shining in the dark. The dog’s bark encompassed him, made him choke, as waves do a drowning man.

Two jumps more and all would have been over with Médéric. And here, Ninon, allow me to complain of the lack of assistance rendered by our mind to our body when the latter finds itself in a fix. What, I ask, had Médéric’s intellect dwindled to whilst his body had but two wretched legs to depend on? A fine idea fleeing to save one’s-self! Every one does the same thing. If his mind had not been wool-gathering, the ingenious child would, at the outset, have quietly climbed up a tree, as he did at the end of a quarter of an hour’s mad race, instead of growing breathless and running the risk of pleurisy. That is what I consider a stroke of genius; he was inspired from above. When he was astride a strong branch he was astonished at having thought of such a simple thing.

The bull-dog, in a furious spring, struck violently against the tree, then set about walking round and round its trunk, barking ferociously. Médéric took it easy, and recovered speech.

“Alas! alas!” he exclaimed, “my poor beauty, I am severely punished for wishing to go out unaccompanied by your fists. This is another proof of how indispensable we are to one another; our affection is the work of Providence. What are you doing without me, having only your arms to help you out of a dilemma? What am I doing here myself up a tree, unable to strike the slightest blow on this dog’s muzzle? Alas! alas! it is all over with us.”

The dog, tired of barking, had gravely settled himself on his hind legs, his neck outstretched, his snout drawn up. He gazed at Médéric without moving a muscle. The latter, seeing the brute paying him unremitting attention, appeared to think it invited him to speak. He determined upon utilising such an auditor, anxious to be listened to for once in his life. Besides, words were his only resource to help him out of his difficulty.