Complete Works of Emile Zola (1788 page)

Sidoine on recalling this tumultuous scene could no longer control his feelings; his tears started afresh. Médéric did not utter a word, for his beauty was assuredly awaiting his sympathy to yield still more to his grief.

“The people,” he resumed, after a pause, “pushed me slowly out of their territory. I walked backwards, step by step, not thinking of defending myself, without daring to open my lips, trying to hide my fists which had excited such an uproar. You know I am very shy by nature, and nothing vexes me so much as to see a crowd busying itself about me. Therefore, when I found myself in the open fields, I soon made up my mind: I turned my back on my revolutionary subjects, and ran with all the speed I could command. I heard them grumble at my flight louder than they had done two minutes previously at my slowness in withdrawing. They called me coward; shook their fists at me, forgetting they ran the risk of putting me in mind of my own; and ended by throwing stones after me when I had outdistanced them. Alas! brother Médéric, these are sad adventures.”

“Come, cheer up,” sensibly answered Médéric; “let us hold council. What do you think of a slight reproof being administered to our subjects, not with a view to subjugating them — for, after all, they were not bound to retain us once they were no longer satisfied with us — but to show them that they cannot turn out people such as we are with impunity? I vote for a brief shower of clouts.”

“Oh!” said Sidoine, “can one read in history of such punishments being inflicted?”

“Yes, certainly. Kings sometimes destroy a town; at others towns behead kings. It is sweet reciprocation. If it will amuse you, we will belabour those on whose behalf we fought yesterday.”

“No, brother; it would be a sad task. I belong to the class of people who do not care to eat chickens bred in their own poultry yards.”

“Well said, my beauty. Let us then bequeath the task of making us regretted to the king who succeeds us. Besides, that kingdom was too small; you could not move without passing the frontiers. We have tarried long enough by the wayside. We must, without further delay, seek the Kingdom of the Happy, which is an extensive kingdom, where we shall reign in comfort. Above all let us keep together. We will spend some morning in completing our education, in acquiring perfect knowledge of this world in a corner of which we shall rule. Is the matter settled, my beauty?”

Sidoine ceased weeping, he no longer thought, no longer spoke. Tears, for a brief space of time, had placed thoughts in his brain and words on his lips. All disappeared simultaneously.

“Listen and do not reply,” added Médéric. “We will step across our former kingdom, and set out towards the East in quest of a new realm.”

VIII

THE CHARMING PRIMROSE QUEEN OF THE KINGDOM OF THE HAPPY

It is high time, Ninon, to tell you of the marvels of the Kingdom of the Happy. Here are the particulars that Médéric had from his friend the bullfinch.

The Kingdom of the Happy is situated in a world that geographers have as yet been unable to discover, but which kind-hearted beings of all ages have well known, having visited it in dreams. I cannot tell you anything concerning its extent, the height of its mountains, the length of its rivers; its boundaries are not clearly defined, and, up to the present, the science of geometry in this fortunate country has consisted in dividing the land into allotments, according to the requirements of each family. Spring does not reign there eternally, as you might fancy; flowers have their thorns, the plain is strewn with rocks; twilight is succeeded by dark night, which is followed in turn by dawn. The fertility, the salubrious climate, and supreme beauty of this kingdom, find their origin in the delightful harmony and wise equilibrium of the elements. The sun ripens the fruits which rain has produced, night rests the fields from the fertilising labour of the day. The sun never scorches the crops, cold never arrests the flow of the streams. There is nothing that is supreme, everything is counterbalanced, has its part in the universal order of things; so that this world, where all opposite influences are in equal quantity, is a world of peace, justice, and duty.

The Kingdom of the Happy is well peopled; from what date has this been so? No one knows; but it is certain that no one would take the nation to be ten years old. It does not appear to suspect to what height of perfection human beings can attain; it lives peacefully without having to vote daily, to maintain one law, twenty laws which will require in their turn twenty other laws, to insure them also being maintained. The edifice of iniquity and oppression has not got beyond its foundation-stone. Some great sentiments, as simple as home truths, take the place of rules: brotherhood in the sight of God, need of rest, knowledge of the insignificance of human nature, the undefined hope of eternal peace. There is a tacit understanding amongst these passers-by of an hour, who question the use of elbowing one another when the road is wide, and leads small and great to the same goal. Harmonious nature, which is ever placid, has influenced the character of the inhabitants; they have, like it, a soul rich in feeling, accessible to all sentiments. This soul, wherein the slightest increase of passion would raise a storm, enjoys a calm that nothing will destroy, owing to the just equalisation of good and bad faculties.

You see, Ninon, that these people are not angels, and that their world is no paradise. A dreamer of our impulsive countries could ill adapt himself to this temperate clime, where the heart must beat regularly; or to the caresses of a pure and tepid atmosphere. He would despise those peaceful landscapes enveloped in white light, stormless, and with no dazzling mid-days. But what a peaceful home for those who, recently awakened from death, recall amid sighs, the delightful slumber they enjoyed in the eternity of the past, and who from hour to hour await the rest of future everlastingness. Those beings refuse to suffer, they aspire to that equality, that holy calm which recalls their true nature, that of non existence. Feeling both good and wicked, they have made it a rule to annihilate mankind as far as possible, to cause him to resume his place in creation, by regulating the harmony of their soul by that of the universe.

Among such a people there cannot be much hierarchy. It is satisfied with existing, and does not divide itself into hostile castes, which dispenses with the necessity of having a history. It declines to submit to that selection of fate which appoints certain men as rulers over their fellows, by giving them a larger part of intellect than the usual share heaven is able to assign to each of its children. Brave men and poltroons, simpletons and men of genius, good and wicked resign themselves, in this land, to being nothing individually, and the only merit they recognise is that of forming part of the human family. From this idea of justice a small society has sprung, which at first sight appears to be somewhat monotonous, possessing but slight individuality, yet forming a charming whole, which harbours no malice, and is a true people in the correct sense of the word And so there are neither small nor great, rich nor poor, no titles, no social scale, none above, none below, none who elbow others; the nation is without care, it lives calmly, is loving and philosophical, and consists of men who have ceased to be such. However, in the early days of the kingdom, in order not to be pointed at by their neighbours, they had fallen in with accepted notions by proclaiming a king. They did not feel the need of him, they considered the step a mere formality, and perhaps a shrewd way to shelter their liberty beneath the wing of monarchy. They selected the humblest citizen, who possessed sufficient intelligence to feel he was the brother of his subjects, and was not so foolish as to become malicious with time. This selection was one of the causes of the peaceful prosperity of the kingdom. The step once taken, the king gradually forgot that he had a people, the people that they had a king. Ruler and ruled thus went side by side, unconsciously protecting one another for centuries; laws were observed in that they did not make themselves felt; the country enjoyed perfect order, which was the result of its unique position in history; a free monarchy contained in a free people.

The annals relating to the history of the sovereigns of the Kingdom of the Happy would be curious reading. Certainly great deeds and humanitarian reforms would hold but a small place therein, and would yield but slight interest; worthy folk would, however, find pleasure in noting with what innocent simplicity that race of excellent men, who were born kings quite naturally, succeeded one another on the throne, and how they wore the crown as easily as one wears fair or dark hair in one’s cradle. The nation having given itself the trouble to select a master at the commencement, did not intend to bother itself further in the matter, and understood that it had given its vote once for all. Respect for hereditary transmission did not account for its acting thus, for it ignored the meaning of the term; but this course of action seemed to it by far the simplest.

Therefore, at the time of the reign of the charming Primrose, no genealogist, in tracing back the family tree, could have followed, in its various branches, that long line of kings, descendants of a common ancestor. They succeeded to the royal inheritance throughout ages, without having to trouble themselves lest some beggar should rob them of it in transit. Many of them even appeared unaware of the high sinecure which they had inherited from their ancestors. Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, had handed down the royal sceptre from hand to hand like an heirloom.

Had it not been for the good nature of the kings themselves in coming forward, the people would in the end have failed to recognise its king for the time being, owing to the family connection which had at length become numerous and involved. Sometimes a circumstance occurred when a king became an absolute necessity. As everything considered, it is wise to follow the ordinary course of events, the nation thereupon called on their legitimate ruler to declare himself. Then the one who had the gilt stick in a corner of his house took it modestly, acted his part, and retired when the farce was over. These short appearances set the memory of the nation in order.

It must be pointed out, to the honour of the reigning dynasty, that two kings had never presented themselves in answer to the people’s summons; amongst heirs, the fact is worthy of being noted: there was never any great nephew covetous of the prize which had fallen to the share of the eldest branch. However, I cannot affirm that the charming Primrose was directly descended from the king who founded the dynasty. You know that one is not always the daughter of one’s father. But it is certain that the title of queen was transmitted to her according to the civil laws of consanguinity. There coursed through her veins a pink blood which perhaps did not contain a drop of the regal article, but which certainly preserved a tinge of the blood of the first man. That dynasty developing without shock, traversing ages at the will of births and deaths, is a splendid example for the peoples and princes of our shores.

The father of the charming Primrose, forgetting as he grew old the great art of his ancestors, conceived the peculiar idea of wishing to introduce some reforms in the government. A republic was on the verge of being proclaimed. Thereupon the old man died, and so spared his subjects the trouble of getting angry. They avoided changing a political system which had suited them so well for centuries, and quietly allowed the only daughter of the late king, the charming Primrose, who was twelve years old, to ascend the throne.

The child, who possessed great common sense for her age, was careful to avoid following her father’s example. Having learnt the cost of insisting on making a nation happy which declared it enjoyed perfect felicity, she sought elsewhere for beings to console and for existences to soften. According to the story, heaven had endowed her with one of those women’s souls embodying pity and love, puffs of breath from a better God, and of such pure essence that men have been obliged to invent quite a multitude of angels and cherubims to account for this penetrating kindness. Ah! yes, Ninon; we people heaven with our sweethearts, with our soft-voiced sisters, with our mothers — those holy souls, the guardian angels of our prayers. God loses nothing by this belief, which is mine. If He needs a celestial army, He possesses up there, around His throne, the compassionate thoughts of all true-hearted women who love in this world.

Primrose, from her birth, evinced several proofs of her mission; she was born to protect the weak, and to perform acts of peace and justice. I will not say that the sun shone more brightly on the day she came into the world, or that there was greater happiness in human hearts. Yet, on that occasion the swallows talked over the event later than usual. If the wolves were not affected, it was because tears of joy do not belong to them by nature; the lambs on passing the door bleated more softly, glancing at one another with moist eyes. Among the beasts of the country — I mean the good beasts — there was an emotion which softened their sad state of brutes for an hour. A Messiah was born who had been expected by these poor creatures; I ask you the question, and without sacrilegious mockery, whether in their sufferings and darkness they do not hope for a Saviour as we do?

Primrose, on opening her eyes in her cradle, bestowed her first smile on the family dog and cat, who were seated on their haunches, one on either side of the cot, as becomes high functionaries. She shed her first tear, stretching forth her hands towards a cage wherein a nightingale was sadly singing; when, to pacify her, the frail prison was handed her, she opened it, and smiled again on seeing the bird spread out its wings.

I cannot relate to you her youth from day to day, spent in placing handfuls of corn near ant-hills, not quite at the edge, in order not to deprive the labourers of the pleasure of work, but at a short distance, so as to spare the limbs of the tiny creatures; her happy youth, of which she made one long holiday, relieving herself of the necessity she felt of being kind, giving her heart the constant joy of doing good, of helping the unfortunate: sparrows and cockroaches saved from the hands of mischievous boys, goats consoled with a caress for the loss of their kids, domestic animals plentifully fed on bones and soups, bread-crumbs placed on the roof, bits of straw held out towards drowning insects, kind actions and gentle words of all kinds.