The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
January 15, 186-.
"Good-morning, Monsieur," said Jeanne, letting herself in; while Thereseremained grumbling in the corridor because she had not been able to getto the door in time.
"Mademoiselle, I beg you will be kind enough to address me very solemnlyby my title, and to say to me, 'Good-morning, my guardian.'"
"Then it has all been settled? Oh, how nice!" cried the child, clappingher hands.
"It has all been arranged, Mademoiselle, in the Salle-commune and beforethe Justice of the Peace; and from to-day you are under my authority....What are you laughing about, my ward? I see it in your eyes. You havesome crazy idea in your head this very moment--some more nonsense, eh?"
"Oh, no! Monsieur.... I mean, my guardian. I was looking at your whitehair. It curls out from under the edge of your hat like honeysuckle on abalcony. It is very handsome, and I like it very much!"
"Be good enough to sit down, my ward, and, if you can possibly help it,stop saying ridiculous things, because I have some very serious thingsto say to you. Listen. I suppose you are not going to insist upon beingsent back to the establishment of Mademoiselle Prefere?... No. Well,then, what would you say if I should take you here to live with me,and to finish your education, and keep you here until... what shall Isay?--for ever, as the song has it?"
"Oh, Monsieur!" she cried, flushing crimson with pleasure.
I continued,
"Behind there we have a nice little room, which my housekeeper hascleaned up and furnished for you. You are going to take the place of thebooks which used to be in it; you will succeed them as the day succeedsnight. Go with Therese and look at it, and see if you think you will beable to live in it. Madame de Gabry and I have made up our minds thatyou can sleep there to-night."
She had already started to run; I called her back for a moment.
"Jeanne, listen to me a moment longer! You have always until now madeyourself a favourite with my housekeeper, who, like all very old people,is apt to be cross at times. Be gentle and forebearing. Make everyallowance for her. I have thought it my duty to make every allowance forher myself, and to put up with all her fits of impatience. Now, let metell you, Jeanne:--Respect her! And when I say that, I do not forgetthat she is my servant and yours; neither will she ever allow herselfto forget it for a moment. But what I want you to respect in her is hergreat age and her great heart. She is a humble woman who has lived avery, very long time in the habit of doing good; and she has becomehardened and stiffened in that habit. Bear patiently with the harsh waysof that upright soul. If you know how to command, she will know how toobey. Go now, my child; arrange your room in whatever way may seem toyou best suited for your studies and for your repose."
Having started Jeanne, with this viaticum, upon her domestic career, Ibegan to read a Review, which, although conducted by very young men,is excellent. The tone of it is somewhat unpolished, but the spiritis zealous. The article I read was certainly far superior, in point ofprecision and positiveness, to anything of the sort ever written when Iwas a young man. The author of the article, Monsieur Paul Meyer, pointsout every error with a remarkably lucid power of incisive criticism.
We used not in my time to criticise with such strict justice. Ourindulgence was vast. It went even so far as to confuse the scholar andthe ignoramus in the same burst of praise. And nevertheless one mustlearn how to find fault; and it is even an imperative duty to blame whenthe blame is deserved.
I remember little Raymond (that was the name we gave him); he did notknow anything, and his mind was not a mind capable of absorbing anysolid learning; but he was very fond of his mother. We took very goodcare never to utter a hint of the ignorance of so perfect a son; and,thanks, to our forbearance, little Raymond made his way to the highestpositions. He had lost his mother then; but honours of all kinds wereshowered upon him. He became omnipotent--to the grievous injury ofhis colleagues and of science.... But here comes my young fiend of theLuxembourg.
"Good-evening, Gelis. You look very happy to-day. What good fortune hascome to you, my dear lad?"
His good fortune is that he has been able to sustain his thesis verycredibly, and that he has taken high rank in his class. He tells methis with the additional information that my own words, which wereincidentally referred to in the course of the examination, had beenspoken of by the college professors in terms of the most unqualifiedpraise.
"That is very nice," I replied; "and it makes me very happy, Gelis, tofind my old reputation thus associated with your own youthful honours.I was very much interested, you know, in that thesis of yours;--but somedomestic arrangements have been keeping me so busy lately that I quiteforgot this was the day on which you were to sustain it."
Mademoiselle Jeanne made her appearance very opportunely, as if in orderto suggest to him something about the nature of those very domesticarrangements. The giddy girl burst into the City of Books like a freshbreeze, crying at the top of her voice that her room was a perfectlittle wonder; then she became very red indeed on seeing Monsieur Gelisthere. But none of us can escape our destiny.
Monsieur Gelis asked her how she was with the tone of a young fellow whoresumes upon a previous acquaintance, and who proposes to put himselfforward as an old friend. Oh, never fear!--she had not forgotten himat all; that was very evident from the fact that then and there, rightunder my nose, they resumed their last year's conversation on thesubject of the "Venetian blond"! They continued the discussion afterquite an animated fashion. I began to ask myself what right I had to bein the room at all. The only thing I could do in order to make myselfheard was to cough. As for getting in a word, they never even gave me achance. Gelis discoursed enthusiastically, not only about the Venetiancolourists, but also upon all other matters relating to nature orto mankind. And Jeanne kept answering him, "Yes, Monsieur, you areright.".... "That is just what I supposed, Monsieur.".... "Monsieur,you express so beautifully just what I feel."... "I am going to think agreat deal about what you have just told me, Monsieur."
When I speak, Mademoiselle never answers me in that tone. It isonly with the very tip of her tongue that she will even taste anyintellectual food which I set before her. Usually she will not touchit at all. But Monsieur Gelis seems to be in her opinion the supremeauthority upon all subjects. It was always, "Oh, yes!"--"Oh, ofcourse!"--to all his empty chatter. And, then, the eyes of Jeanne! Ihad never seen them look so large before; I had never before observed inthem such fixity of expression; but her gaze otherwise remained what italways is--artless, frank, and brave. Gelis evidently pleased her; shelike Gelis, and her eyes betrayed the fact. They would have published itto the entire universe! All very fine, Master Bonnard!--you have been sodeeply interested in observing your ward, that you have been forgettingyou are her guardian! You began only this morning to exercise thatfunction; and you can already see that it involves some very delicateand difficult duties. Bonnard, you must really try to devise some meansof keeping that young man away from her; you really ought.... Eh! how amI to know what I am to do?...
I have picked up a book at random from the nearest shelf; I open it, andI enter respectfully into the middle of a drama of Sophocles. The olderI grow, the more I learn to love the two civilisations of the antiqueworld; and now I always keep the poets of Italy and of Greece on a shelfwithin easy reach of my arm in the City of Books.
Monsieur and Mademoiselle finally condescend to take some notice of me,now that I seem too busy to take any notice of them. I really think thatMademoiselle Jeanne has even asked me what I am reading. No, indeed, Iwill not tell her what it is. What I am reading, between ourselves,is the change of that smooth and luminous Chorus which rolls out itsmagnificent tunefulness through a scene of passionate violence--theChorus of the Old Men of Thebes--'Erws avixate...' "Invincible Love,O thou who descendest upon rich houses,--Thou who dost rest upon thedelicate cheek of the maiden,--Thou who dost traverse all seas,--surelynone among the Immortals can escape Thee, nor indeed any among men wholive but for a little space; and he who is possessed by Thee
, there is amadness upon him." And when I had re-read that delicious chant, theface of Antigone appeared before me in all its passionless purity. Whatimages! Gods and goddesses who hover in the highest heights of Heaven!The blind old man, the long-wandering beggar-king, led by Antigone, hasnow been buried with holy rites; and his daughter, fair as the fairestdream ever conceived by human soul, resists the will of the tyrant andgives pious sepulture to her brother. She loves the son of the tyrant,and that son loves her also. And as she goes on her way to execution,the victim of her own sweet piety, the old men sing, "Invincible Love,O Thou who dost descend upon rich houses,--Thou who dost rest upon thedelicate cheek of the maiden."...
"Mademoiselle Jeanne, are you really very anxious to know what I amreading? I am reading, Mademoiselle--I am reading that Antigone, havingburied the blind old man, wove a fair tapestry embroidered with imagesin the likeness of laughing faces."
"Ah!" said Gelis, as he burs out laughing "that is not in the text."
"It is a scholium," I said.
"Unpublished," he added, getting up.
I am not an egotist. But I am prudent. I have to bring up this child;she is much too young to be married now. No! I am not an egotist, butI must certainly keep her with me for a few years more--keep her alonewith me. She can surely wait until I am dead! Fear not, Antigone, oldOedipus will find holy burial soon enough.
In the meanwhile, Antigone is helping our housekeeper to scrape thecarrots. She says she like to do it--that it is in her line, beingrelated to the art of sculpture.