CHAPTER II.
WHAT HE DID.
He returned to the Tadcaster Inn,
It struck half-past six. It was a little before twilight.
Master Nicless stood on his doorstep.
He had not succeeded, since the morning, in extinguishing the terrorwhich still showed on his scared face.
He perceived Ursus from afar.
"Well!" he cried.
"Well! what?"
"Is Gwynplaine coming back? It is full time. The public will soon becoming. Shall we have the performance of 'The Laughing Man' thisevening?"
"I am the laughing man," said Ursus.
And he looked at the tavern-keeper with a loud chuckle.
Then he went up to the first floor, opened the window next to the signof the inn, leant over towards the placard about Gwynplaine, thelaughing man, and the bill of "Chaos Vanquished;" unnailed the one, toredown the other, put both under his arm, and descended.
Master Nicless followed him with his eyes.
"Why do you unhook that?"
Ursus burst into a second fit of laughter.
"Why do you laugh?" said the tavern-keeper.
"I am re-entering private life."
Master Nicless understood, and gave an order to his lieutenant, the boyGovicum, to announce to every one who should come that there would be noperformance that evening. He took from the door the box made out of acask, where they received the entrance money, and rolled it into acorner of the lower sitting-room.
A moment after, Ursus entered the Green Box.
He put the two signs away in a corner, and entered what he called thewoman's wing.
Dea was asleep.
She was on her bed, dressed as usual, excepting that the body of hergown was loosened, as when she was taking her siesta.
Near her Vinos and Fibi were sitting--one on a stool, the other on theground--musing. Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, they had notdressed themselves in their goddesses' gauze, which was a sign of deepdiscouragement. They had remained in their drugget petticoats and theirdress of coarse cloth.
Ursus looked at Dea.
"She is rehearsing for a longer sleep," murmured he.
Then, addressing Fibi and Vinos,--
"You both know all. The music is over. You may put your trumpets intothe drawer. You did well not to equip yourselves as deities. You lookugly enough as you are, but you were quite right. Keep on yourpetticoats. No performance to-night, nor to-morrow, nor the day afterto-morrow. No Gwynplaine. Gwynplaine is clean gone."
Then he looked at Dea again.
"What a blow to her this will be! It will be like blowing out a candle."
He inflated his cheeks.
"Puff! nothing more."
Then, with a little dry laugh,--
"Losing Gwynplaine, she loses all. It would be just as if I were to loseHomo. It will be worse. She will feel more lonely than any one elsecould. The blind wade through more sorrow than we do."
He looked out of the window at the end of the room.
"How the days lengthen! It is not dark at seven o'clock. Nevertheless wewill light up."
He struck the steel and lighted the lamp which hung from the ceiling ofthe Green Box.
Then he leaned over Dea.
"She will catch cold; you have unlaced her bodice too low. There is aproverb,--
"'Though April skies be bright, Keep all your wrappers tight.'"
Seeing a pin shining on the floor, he picked it up and pinned up hersleeve. Then he paced the Green Box, gesticulating.
"I am in full possession of my faculties. I am lucid, quite lucid. Iconsider this occurrence quite proper, and I approve of what hashappened. When she awakes I will explain everything to her clearly. Thecatastrophe will not be long in coming. No more Gwynplaine. Good-night,Dea. How well all has been arranged! Gwynplaine in prison, Dea in thecemetery, they will be _vis-a-vis_! A dance of death! Two destiniesgoing off the stage at once. Pack up the dresses. Fasten the valise. Forvalise, read coffin. It was just what was best for them both. Deawithout eyes, Gwynplaine without a face. On high the Almighty willrestore sight to Dea and beauty to Gwynplaine. Death puts things torights. All will be well. Fibi, Vinos, hang up your tambourines on thenail. Your talents for noise will go to rust, my beauties; no moreplaying, no more trumpeting 'Chaos Vanquished' is vanquished. 'TheLaughing Man' is done for. 'Taratantara' is dead. Dea sleeps on. Shedoes well. If I were she I would never awake. Oh! she will soon fallasleep again. A skylark like her takes very little killing. This comesof meddling with politics. What a lesson! Governments are right.Gwynplaine to the sheriff. Dea to the grave-digger. Parallel cases!Instructive symmetry! I hope the tavern-keeper has barred the door. Weare going to die to-night quietly at home, between ourselves--not I, norHomo, but Dea. As for me, I shall continue to roll on in the caravan. Ibelong to the meanderings of vagabond life. I shall dismiss these twowomen. I shall not keep even one of them. I have a tendency to become anold scoundrel. A maidservant in the house of a libertine is like a loafof bread on the shelf. I decline the temptation. It is not becoming atmy age. _Turpe senilis amor_. I will follow my way alone with Homo. Howastonished Homo will be! Where is Gwynplaine? Where is Dea? Old comrade,here we are once more alone together. Plague take it! I'm delighted.Their bucolics were an encumbrance. Oh! that scamp Gwynplaine, who isnever coming back. He has left us stuck here. I say 'All right.' Andnow 'tis Dea's turn. That won't be long. I like things to be done with.I would not snap my fingers to stop her dying--her dying, I tell you!See, she awakes!"
Dea opened her eyelids; many blind persons shut them when they sleep.Her sweet unwitting face wore all its usual radiance.
"She smiles," whispered Ursus, "and I laugh. That is as it should be."
Dea called,--
"Fibi! Vinos! It must be the time for the performance. I think I havebeen asleep a long time. Come and dress me."
Neither Fibi nor Vinos moved.
Meanwhile the ineffable blind look of Dea's eyes met those of Ursus. Hestarted.
"Well!" he cried; "what are you about? Vinos! Fibi! Do you not hear yourmistress? Are you deaf? Quick! the play is going to begin."
The two women looked at Ursus in stupefaction.
Ursus shouted,--
"Do you not hear the audience coming in?--Fibi, dress Dea.--Vinos, takeyour tambourine."
Fibi was obedient; Vinos, passive. Together, they personifiedsubmission. Their master, Ursus, had always been to them an enigma.Never to be understood is a reason for being always obeyed. They simplythought he had gone mad, and did as they were told. Fibi took down thecostume, and Vinos the tambourine.
Fibi began to dress Dea. Ursus let down the door-curtain of the women'sroom, and from behind the curtain continued,--
"Look there, Gwynplaine! the court is already more than half full ofpeople. They are in heaps in the passages. What a crowd! And you saythat Fibi and Vinos look as if they did not see them. How stupid thegipsies are! What fools they are in Egypt! Don't lift the curtain fromthe door. Be decent. Dea is dressing."
He paused, and suddenly they heard an exclamation,--
"How beautiful Dea is!"
It was the voice of Gwynplaine.
Fibi and Vinos started, and turned round. It was the voice ofGwynplaine, but in the mouth of Ursus.
Ursus, by a sign which he made through the door ajar, forbade theexpression of any astonishment.
Then, again taking the voice of Gwynplaine,--
"Angel!"
Then he replied in his own voice,--
"Dea an angel! You are a fool, Gwynplaine. No mammifer can fly exceptthe bats."
And he added,--
"Look here, Gwynplaine! Let Homo loose; that will be more to thepurpose."
And he descended the ladder of the Green Box very quickly, with theagile spring of Gwynplaine, imitating his step so that Dea could hearit.
In the court he addressed the boy, whom the occurrences of the day hadmade idle and inquisitive.
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p; "Spread out both your hands," said he, in a loud voice.
And he poured a handful of pence into them.
Govicum was grateful for his munificence.
Ursus whispered in his ear,--
"Boy, go into the yard; jump, dance, knock, bawl, whistle, coo, neigh,applaud, stamp your feet, burst out laughing, break something."
Master Nicless, saddened and humiliated at seeing the folks who had cometo see "The Laughing Man" turned back and crowding towards othercaravans, had shut the door of the inn. He had even given up the idea ofselling any beer or spirits that evening, that he might have to answerno awkward questions; and, quite overcome by the sudden close of theperformance, was looking, with his candle in his hand, into the courtfrom the balcony above.
Ursus, taking the precaution of putting his voice between parenthesesfashioned by adjusting the palms of his hands to his mouth, cried out tohim,--
"Sir! do as your boy is doing--yelp, bark, howl."
He re-ascended the steps of the Green Box, and said to the wolf,--
"_Talk_ as much as you can."
Then, raising his voice,--
"What a crowd there is! We shall have a crammed performance."
In the meantime Vinos played the tambourine. Ursus went on,--
"Dea is dressed. Now we can begin. I am sorry they have admitted somany spectators. How thickly packed they are!--Look, Gwynplaine, what amad mob it is! I will bet that to-day we shall take more money than wehave ever done yet.--Come, gipsies, play up, both of you. Comehere.--Fibi, take your clarion. Good.--Vinos, drum on your tambourine.Fling it up and catch it again.--Fibi, put yourself into the attitude ofFame.--Young ladies, you have too much on. Take off those jackets.Replace stuff by gauze. The public like to see the female form exposed.Let the moralists thunder. A little indecency. Devil take it! what ofthat? Look voluptuous, and rush into wild melodies. Snort, blow,whistle, flourish, play the tambourine.--What a number of people, mypoor Gwynplaine!"
He interrupted himself.
"Gwynplaine, help me. Let down the platform." He spread out hispocket-handkerchief. "But first let me roar in my rag," and he blew hisnose violently as a ventriloquist ought. Having returned hishandkerchief to his pocket, he drew the pegs out of the pulleys, whichcreaked as usual as the platform was let down.
"Gwynplaine, do not draw the curtain until the performance begins. Weare not alone.--You two come on in front. Music, ladies! turn, turn,turn.--A pretty audience we have! the dregs of the people. Goodheavens!"
The two gipsies, stupidly obedient, placed themselves in their usualcorners of the platform. Then Ursus became wonderful. It was no longer aman, but a crowd. Obliged to make abundance out of emptiness, he calledto aid his prodigious powers of ventriloquism. The whole orchestra ofhuman and animal voices which was within him he called into tumult atonce.
He was legion. Any one with his eyes closed would have imagined that hewas in a public place on some day of rejoicing, or in some suddenpopular riot. A whirlwind of clamour proceeded from Ursus: he sang, heshouted, he talked, he coughed, he spat, he sneezed, took snuff, talkedand responded, put questions and gave answers, all at once. Thehalf-uttered syllables ran one into another. In the court, untenanted bya single spectator, were heard men, women, and children. It was a clearconfusion of tumult. Strange laughter wound, vapour-like, through thenoise, the chirping of birds, the swearing of cats, the wailings ofchildren at the breast. The indistinct tones of drunken men were to beheard, and the growls of dogs under the feet of people who stamped onthem. The cries came from far and near, from top to bottom, from theupper boxes to the pit. The whole was an uproar, the detail was a cry.Ursus clapped his hands, stamped his feet, threw his voice to the end ofthe court, and then made it come from underground. It was both stormyand familiar. It passed from a murmur to a noise, from a noise to atumult, from a tumult to a tempest. He was himself, any, every one else.Alone, and polyglot. As there are optical illusions, there are alsoauricular illusions. That which Proteus did to sight Ursus did tohearing. Nothing could be more marvellous than his facsimile ofmultitude. From time to time he opened the door of the women's apartmentand looked at Dea. Dea was listening. On his part the boy exertedhimself to the utmost. Vinos and Fibi trumpeted conscientiously, andtook turns with the tambourine. Master Nicless, the only spectator,quietly made himself the same explanation as they did--that Ursus wasgone mad; which was, for that matter, but another sad item added to hismisery. The good tavern-keeper growled out, "What insanity!" And he wasserious as a man might well be who has the fear of the law before him.
Govicum, delighted at being able to help in making a noise, exertedhimself almost as much as Ursus. It amused him, and, moreover, it earnedhim pence.
Homo was pensive.
In the midst of the tumult Ursus now and then uttered such words asthese:--"Just as usual, Gwynplaine. There is a cabal against us. Ourrivals are undermining our success. Tumult is the seasoning of triumph.Besides, there are too many people. They are uncomfortable. The anglesof their neighbours' elbows do not dispose them to good-nature. I hopethe benches will not give way. We shall be the victims of an incensedpopulation. Oh, if our friend Tom-Jim-Jack were only here! but he nevercomes now. Look at those heads rising one above the other. Those who areforced to stand don't look very well pleased, though the great Galenpronounced it to be strengthening. We will shorten the entertainment; asonly 'Chaos Vanquished' was announced in the playbill, we will not play'Ursus Rursus.' There will be something gained in that. What an uproar!O blind turbulence of the masses. They will do us some damage. However,they can't go on like this. We should not be able to play. No one cancatch a word of the piece. I am going to address them. Gwynplaine, drawthe curtain a little aside.--Gentlemen." Here Ursus addressed himselfwith a shrill and feeble voice,--
"Down with that old fool!"
Then he answered in his own voice,--
"It seems that the mob insult me. Cicero is right: _plebs fex urbis_.Never mind; we will admonish the mob, though I shall have a great dealof trouble to make myself heard. I will speak, notwithstanding. Man, doyour duty. Gwynplaine, look at that scold grinding her teeth downthere."
Ursus made a pause, in which he placed a gnashing of his teeth. Homo,provoked, added a second, and Govicum a third.
Ursus went on,--
"The women are worse than the men. The moment is unpropitious, but itdoesn't matter! Let us try the power of a speech; an eloquent speech isnever out of place. Listen, Gwynplaine, to my attractive exordium.Ladies and gentlemen, I am a bear. I take off my head to address you. Ihumbly appeal to you for silence." Ursus, lending a cry to the crowd,said, "Grumphll!"
Then he continued,--
"I respect my audience. Grumphll is an epiphonema as good as any otherwelcome. You growlers. That you are all of the dregs of the people, I donot doubt. That in no way diminishes my esteem for you. Awell-considered esteem. I have a profound respect for the bullies whohonour me with their custom. There are deformed folks amongst you. Theygive me no offence. The lame and the humpbacked are works of nature. Thecamel is gibbous. The bison's back is humped. The badger's left legs areshorter than the right, That fact is decided by Aristotle, in histreatise on the walking of animals. There are those amongst you who havebut two shirts--one on his back, and the other at the pawnbroker's. Iknow that to be true. Albuquerque pawned his moustache, and St. Denishis glory. The Jews advanced money on the glory. Great examples. To havedebts is to have something. I revere your beggardom."
Ursus cut short his speech, interrupting it in a deep bass voice by theshout,--
"Triple ass!"
And he answered in his politest accent,--
"I admit it. I am a learned man. I do my best to apologize for it. Iscientifically despise science. Ignorance is a reality on which we feed;science is a reality on which we starve. In general one is obliged tochoose between two things--to be learned and grow thin, or to browse andbe an ass. O gentlemen, browse! Science is not worth a mouthful ofanything nice. I had rather eat a
sirloin of beef than know what theycall the psoas muscle. I have but one merit--a dry eye. Such as you seeme, I have never wept. It must be owned that I have never beensatisfied--never satisfied--not even with myself. I despise myself; butI submit this to the members of the opposition here present--if Ursus isonly a learned man, Gwynplaine is an artist."
He groaned again,--
"Grumphll!"
And resumed,--
"Grumphll again! it is an objection. All the same, I pass it over. NearGwynplaine, gentlemen and ladies, is another artist, a valued anddistinguished personage who accompanies us--his lordship Homo, formerlya wild dog, now a civilized wolf, and a faithful subject of herMajesty's. Homo is a mine of deep and superior talent. Be attentive andwatch. You are going to set Homo play as well as Gwynplaine, and youmust do honour to art. That is an attribute of great nations. Are youmen of the woods? I admit the fact. In that case, _sylvae sunt consuledigna_. Two artists are well worth one consul. All right! Some one hasflung a cabbage stalk at me, but did not hit me. That will not stop myspeaking; on the contrary, a danger evaded makes folks garrulous._Garrula pericula_, says Juvenal. My hearers! there are amongst youdrunken men and drunken women. Very well. The men are unwholesome. Thewomen are hideous. You have all sorts of excellent reasons for stowingyourselves away here on the benches of the pothouse--want of work,idleness, the spare time between two robberies, porter, ale, stout,malt, brandy, gin, and the attraction of one sex for the other. Whatcould be better? A wit prone to irony would find this a fair field. ButI abstain. 'Tis luxury; so be it, but even an orgy should be keptwithin bounds. You are gay, but noisy. You imitate successfully thecries of beasts; but what would you say if, when you were making love toa lady, I passed my time in barking at you? It would disturb you, and soit disturbs us. I order you to hold your tongues. Art is as respectableas debauch. I speak to you civilly."
He apostrophized himself,--
"May the fever strangle you, with your eyebrows like the beard of rye."
And he replied,--
"Honourable gentlemen, let the rye alone. It is impious to insult thevegetables, by likening them either to human creatures or animals.Besides, the fever does not strangle. 'Tis a false metaphor. For pity'ssake, keep silence. Allow me to tell you that you are slightly wantingin the repose which characterizes the true English gentleman. I see thatsome amongst you, who have shoes out of which their toes are peeping,take advantage of the circumstance to rest their feet on the shouldersof those who are in front of them, causing the ladies to remark that thesoles of shoes divide always at the part at which is the head of themetatarsal bones. Show more of your hands and less of your feet. Iperceive scamps who plunge their ingenious fists into the pockets oftheir foolish neighbours. Dear pickpockets, have a little modesty. Fightthose next to you if you like; do not plunder them. You will vex themless by blackening an eye, than by lightening their purses of a penny.Break their noses if you like. The shopkeeper thinks more of his moneythan of his beauty. Barring this, accept my sympathies, for I am notpedantic enough to blame thieves. Evil exists. Every one endures it,every one inflicts it. No one is exempt from the vermin of his sins.That's what I keep saying. Have we not all our itch? I myself have mademistakes. _Plaudite, cives_."
Ursus uttered a long groan, which he overpowered by these concludingwords,--
"My lords and gentlemen, I see that my address has unluckily displeasedyou. I take leave of your hisses for a moment. I shall put on my head,and the performance is going to begin."
He dropt his oratorical tone, and resumed his usual voice.
"Close the curtains. Let me breathe. I have spoken like honey. I havespoken well. My words were like velvet; but they were useless. I calledthem my lords and gentlemen. What do you think of all this scum,Gwynplaine? How well may we estimate the ills which England has sufferedfor the last forty years through the ill-temper of these irritable andmalicious spirits! The ancient Britons were warlike; these aremelancholy and learned. They glory in despising the laws and contemningroyal authority. I have done all that human eloquence can do. I havebeen prodigal of metonymics, as gracious as the blooming cheek of youth.Were they softened by them? I doubt it. What can affect a people who eatso extraordinarily, who stupefy themselves by tobacco so completely thattheir literary men often write their works with a pipe in their mouths?Never mind. Let us begin the play."
The rings of the curtain were heard being drawn over the rod. Thetambourines of the gipsies were still. Ursus took down his instrument,executed his prelude, and said in a low tone: "Alas, Gwynplaine, howmysterious it is!" then he flung himself down with the wolf.
When he had taken down his instrument, he had also taken from the nail arough wig which he had, and which he had thrown on the stage in a cornerwithin his reach. The performance of "Chaos Vanquished" took place asusual, minus only the effect of the blue light and the brilliancy of thefairies. The wolf played his best. At the proper moment Dea made herappearance, and, in her voice so tremulous and heavenly, invokedGwynplaine. She extended her arms, feeling for that head.
Ursus rushed at the wig, ruffled it, put it on, advanced softly, andholding his breath, his head bristled thus under the hand of Dea.
Then calling all his art to his aid, and copying Gwynplaine's voice, hesang with ineffable love the response of the monster to the call of thespirit. The imitation was so perfect that again the gipsies looked forGwynplaine, frightened at hearing without seeing him.
Govicum, filled with astonishment, stamped, applauded, clapped hishands, producing an Olympian tumult, and himself laughed as if he hadbeen a chorus of gods. This boy, it must be confessed, developed a raretalent for acting an audience.
Fibi and Vinos, being automatons of which Ursus pulled the strings,rattled their instruments, composed of copper and ass's skin--the usualsign of the performance being over and of the departure of the people.
Ursus arose, covered with perspiration. He said, in a low voice, toHomo, "You see it was necessary to gain time. I think we have succeeded.I have not acquitted myself badly--I, who have as much reason as any oneto go distracted. Gwynplaine may perhaps return to-morrow. It is uselessto kill Dea directly. I can explain matters to you."
He took off his wig and wiped his forehead.
"I am a ventriloquist of genius," murmured he. "What talent I displayed!I have equalled Brabant, the engastrimist of Francis I. of France. Deais convinced that Gwynplaine is here."
"Ursus," said Dea, "where is Gwynplaine?"
Ursus started and turned round. Dea was still standing at the back ofthe stage, alone under the lamp which hung from the ceiling. She waspale, with the pallor of a ghost.
She added, with an ineffable expression of despair,--
"I know. He has left us. He is gone. I always knew that he had wings."
And raising her sightless eyes on high, she added,--
"When shall I follow?"