Captain Fracasse

T >> Theophile Gautier >> Captain Fracasse


The portly duenna disposed of solids and fluids perseveringly, and
in formidable quantities, seeming to have an unlimited capacity; but
Isabelle and Serafina had finished their supper long ago, and were
yawning wearily behind their pretty, outspread hands, having no fans
within reach, to conceal these pronounced symptoms of sleepiness.

The baron, becoming aware of this state of things, said to them,
"Mesdemoiselles, I perceive that you are very weary, and I wish with
all my heart that I could offer you each a luxurious bed-chamber; but my
house, like my family, has fallen into decay, and I can only give to you
and Madame my own room. Fortunately the bed is very large, and you must
make yourselves as comfortable as you can--for a single night you will
not mind. As to the gentlemen, I must ask them to remain here with me,
and try to sleep in the arm-chairs before the fire. I pray you,
ladies, do not allow yourselves to be startled by the waving of the
tapestry-which is only due to the strong draughts about the room on a
stormy night like this--the moaning of the wind in the chimney, or the
wild scurrying and squeaking of the mice behind the wainscot. I can
guarantee that no ghosts will disturb you here, though this place does
look dreary and dismal enough to be haunted."

"I am not a bit of a coward," answered Serafina laughingly, "and will do
my best to reassure this timid little Isabelle. As to our duenna,--she
is something of a sorceress herself, and if the devil in person should
make his appearance he would meet his match in her."

The baron then took a light in his hand and showed the three ladies
the way into the bed-chamber, which certainly did strike them rather
unpleasantly at first sight, and looked very eerie in the dim,
flickering light of the one small lamp.

"What a capital scene it would make for the fifth act of a tragedy,"
said Serafina, as she looked curiously about her, while poor little
Isabelle shivered with cold and terror. They all crept into bed without
undressing, Isabelle begging to lie between Serafina and Mme. Leonarde,
for she felt nervous and frightened. The other two fell asleep at
once, but the timid young girl lay long awake, gazing with wide-open,
straining eyes at the door that led into the shut-up apartments beyond,
as if she dreaded its opening to admit some unknown horror. But it
remained fast shut, and though all sorts of mysterious noises made her
poor little heart flutter painfully, her eyelids closed at last, and she
forgot her weariness and her fears in profound slumber.

In the other room the pedant slept soundly, with his head on the table,
and the tyrant opposite to him snored like a giant. Matamore had rolled
himself up in a cloak and made himself as comfortable as possible
under the circumstances in a large arm-chair, with his long, thin legs
extended at full length, and his feet on the fender. Leander slept
sitting bolt upright, so as not to disarrange his carefully brushed
hair, and de Sigognac, who had taken possession of a vacant arm-chair,
was too much agitated and excited by the events of the evening to be
able to close his eyes. The coming of two beautiful, young women thus
suddenly into his life--which had been hitherto so isolated, sad and
dreary, entirely devoid of all the usual pursuits and pleasures of
youth--could not fail to rouse him from his habitual apathy, and set his
pulses beating after a new fashion. Incredible as it may seem yet it was
quite true that our young hero had never had a single love affair. He
was too proud, as we have already said, to take his rightful place among
his equals, without any of the appurtenances suitable to his rank, and
also too proud to associate familiarly with the surrounding peasantry,
who accorded him as much respect in his poverty as they had ever shown
to his ancestors in their prosperity. He had no near relatives to come
to his assistance, and so lived on, neglected and forgotten, in his
crumbling chateau, with nothing to look forward to or hope for. In
the course of his solitary wanderings he had several times chanced to
encounter the young and beautiful Yolande de Foix, following the hounds
on her snow-white palfrey, in company with her father and a number of
the young noblemen of the neighbourhood. This dazzling vision of beauty
often haunted his dreams, but what possible relations could there ever
be hoped for between the rich, courted heiress, whose suitors were
legion, and his own poverty-stricken self? Far from seeking to attract
her attention, he always got out of her sight as quickly as possible,
lest his ill-fitting, shabby garments and miserable old pony should
excite a laugh at his expense; for he was very sensitive, this poor
young nobleman, and could not have borne the least approach to ridicule
from the fair object of his secret and passionate admiration. He had
tried his utmost to stifle the ardent emotions that filled his heart
whenever his thoughts strayed to the beautiful Yolande, realizing how
far above his reach she was, and he believed that he had succeeded;
though there were times even yet when it all rushed back upon him with
overwhelming force, like a huge tidal wave that sweeps everything
before it.

The night passed quietly at the chateau, without other incident than the
fright of poor Isabelle, when Beelzebub, who had climbed up on the bed,
as was his frequent custom, established himself comfortably upon
her bosom; finding it a deliciously soft, warm resting-place, and
obstinately resisting her frantic efforts to drive him away.

As to de Sigognac, he did not once close his eyes. A vague project was
gradually shaping itself in his mind, keeping him wakeful and perplexed.
The advent of these strolling comedians appeared to him like a stroke of
fate, an ambassador of fortune, to invite him to go out into the great
world, away from this old feudal ruin, where his youth was passing in
misery and inaction--to quit this dreary shade, and emerge into the
light and life of the outer world.

At last the gray light of the dawn came creeping in through the lattice
windows, speedily followed by the first bright rays from the rising sun.
The storm was over, and the glorious god of day rose triumphant in a
perfectly clear sky. It was a strange group that he peeped in upon,
where the old family portraits seemed looking down with haughty contempt
upon the slumbering invaders of their dignified solitude. The soubrette
was the first to awake, starting up as a warm sunbeam shone caressingly
full upon her face. She sprang to her feet, shook out her skirts, as a
bird does its plumage, passed the palms of her hands lightly over her
glossy bands of jet-black hair, and then seeing that the baron was
quietly observing her, with eyes that showed no trace of drowsiness, she
smiled radiantly upon him as she made a low and most graceful curtsey.

"I am very sorry," said de Sigognac, as he rose to acknowledge her
salute, "that the ruinous condition of this chateau, which verily seems
better fitted to receive phantoms than real living guests, would not
permit me to offer you more comfortable accommodations. If I had been
able to follow my inclinations, I should have lodged you in a luxurious
chamber, where you could have reposed between fine linen sheets, under
silken curtains, instead of resting uneasily in that worm-eaten old
chair."

"Do not be sorry about anything, my lord, I pray you," answered the
soubrette with another brilliant smile; "but for your kindness we
should have been in far worse plight; forced to pass the night in the
poor old chariot, stuck fast in the mud; exposed to the cutting wind and
pelting rain. We should assuredly have found ourselves in wretched case
this morning. Besides, this chateau which you speak of so disparagingly
is magnificence itself in comparison with the miserable barns, open to
the weather, in which we have sometimes been forced to spend the night,
trying to sleep as best we might on bundles of straw, and making light
of our misery to keep our courage up."

While the baron and the actress were exchanging civilities the pedant's
chair, unable to support his weight any longer, suddenly gave way under
him, and he fell to the floor with a tremendous crash, which startled
the whole company. In his fall he had mechanically seized hold of the
table-cloth, and so brought nearly all the things upon it clattering
down with him. He lay sprawling like a huge turtle in the midst of them
until the tyrant, after rubbing his eyes and stretching his burly limbs,
came to the rescue, and held out a helping hand, by aid of which the old
actor managed with some difficulty to scramble to his feet.

"Such an accident as that could never happen to Matamore," said Herode,
with his resounding laugh; "he might fall into a spider's web without
breaking through it."

"That's true," retorted the shadow of a man, in his turn stretching his
long attenuated limbs and yawning tremendously, "but then, you know, not
everybody has the advantage of being a second Polyphemus, a mountain of
flesh and bones, like you, or a big wine-barrel, like our friend Blazius
there."

All this commotion had aroused Isabelle, Serafina and the duenna, who
presently made their appearance. The two younger women, though a little
pale and weary, yet looked very charming in the bright morning light. In
de Sigognac's eyes they appeared radiant, in spite of the shabbiness
of their finery, which was far more apparent now than on the preceding
evening. But what signify faded ribbons and dingy gowns when the wearers
are fresh, young and beautiful? Besides, the baron's eyes were so
accustomed to dinginess that they were not capable of detecting such
slight defects in the toilets of his fair guests, and he gazed with
delight upon these bewitching creatures, enraptured with their grace and
beauty. As to the duenna, she was both old and ugly, and had long ago
accepted the inevitable with commendable resignation.

As the ladies entered by one door, Pierre came in by the other, bringing
more wood for the fire, and then proceeding to make the disordered room
as tidy as he could. All the company now gathered round the cheerful
blaze that was roaring up the chimney and sending out a warm glow
that was an irresistible attraction in the chill of the early morning.
Isabelle knelt down and stretched out the rosy palms of her pretty
little hands as near to the flames as she dared, while Serafina stood
behind and laid her hands caressingly on her shoulders, like an elder
sister taking tender care of a younger one. Matamore stood on one
leg like a huge heron, leaning against the corner of the carved
chimney-piece, and seemed inclined to fall asleep again, while the
pedant was vainly searching for a swallow of wine among the empty
bottles.

The baron meantime had held a hurried private consultation with Pierre
as to the possibility of procuring a few eggs, or a fowl or two, at the
nearest hamlet, so that he might give the travellers something to eat
before their departure, and he bade the old servant be quick about it,
for the chariot was to make an early start, as they had a long day's
journey before them.

"I cannot let you go away fasting, though you will have rather a scanty
breakfast I fear," he said to his guests, "but it is better to have a
poor one than none at all; and there is not an inn within six leagues of
this where you could be sure of getting anything to eat. I will not make
further apologies, for the condition of everything in this house shows
you plainly enough that I am not rich; but as my poverty is mainly owing
to the great expenditures made by my honoured ancestors in many wars for
the defence of king and country, I do not need to be ashamed of it."

"No indeed, my lord," answered Herode in his deep, bass voice, "and many
there be in these degenerate days who hold their heads very high because
of their riches, who would not like to have to confess how they came in
possession of them."

"What astonishes me," interrupted Blazius, "is that such an accomplished
young gentleman as your lordship seems to be should be willing to remain
here in this isolated spot, where Fortune cannot reach you even if she
would. You ought to go to Paris, the great capital of the world, the
rendezvous of brave and learned men, the El Dorado, the promised land,
the Paradise of all true Frenchmen. There you would be sure to make
your way, either in attaching yourself to the household of some great
nobleman, a friend of your family, or in performing some brilliant deed
of valour, the opportunity for which will not be long to find."

These words, although rather high-flown, were not devoid of sense, and
de Sigognac could not help secretly admitting that there was some truth
in them. He had often, during his long rambles over the desolate Landes,
thought wishfully of undertaking what the pedant had just proposed; but
he had not money enough for the journey even, and he did not know where
to look for more. Though brave and high-spirited, he was very sensitive,
and feared a smile of derision more than a sword-thrust. He was not
familiar with the prevailing fashions in dress, but he felt that his
antiquated costume was ridiculous as well as shabby, and sure to be
laughed at anywhere but among his own simple peasantry. Like most of
those who are disheartened and crushed by extreme poverty, he only
looked at the dark side of things, and made no allowance for any
possible advantages. Perhaps he might have been delicately as well as
generously assisted by some of his father's old friends if he would only
have let them know of his situation, but his pride held him back, and he
would have died of starvation rather than ask for aid in any form.

"I used to think sometimes of going to Paris," he answered slowly, after
some hesitation, "but I have no friends or even acquaintances there; and
the descendants of those who perhaps knew my ancestors when they were
rich and powerful, and in favour at court, could scarcely be expected
to welcome a poverty-stricken Baron de Sigognac, who came swooping down
from his ruined tower to try and snatch a share of any prey that chanced
to lie within reach of his talons. And besides--I do not know why I
should be ashamed to acknowledge it--I have not any of the appurtenances
suitable to my rank, and could not present myself upon a footing worthy
of my name. I doubt if I have even money enough for the expenses of the
journey alone, and that in the humblest fashion."

"But it is not necessary," Blazius hastened to reply, "that you should
make a state entry into the capital, like a Roman emperor, in a gilded
chariot drawn by four white horses abreast. If our humble equipage does
not appear too unworthy to your lordship, come with us to Paris; we are
on our way there now. Many a man shines there to-day in brave apparel,
and enjoys high favour at court, who travelled thither on foot, carrying
his little bundle over his shoulder, swung on the point of his rapier,
and his shoes in his hand, for fear of wearing them out on the way."

A slight flush, partly of shame, partly of pleasure, rose to de
Sigognac's cheek at this speech. If on the one side his pride revolted
at the idea of being under an obligation to such a person as the pedant,
on the other he was touched and gratified by this kind proposition so
frankly made, and which, moreover, accorded so well with his own secret
desires. He feared also that if he refused the actor's kindly-meant
offer he would wound his feelings, and perhaps miss an opportunity that
would never be afforded to him again. It is true that the idea of a
descendant of the noble old house of Sigognac travelling in the chariot
of a band of strolling players, and making common cause with them, was
rather shocking at first sight, but surely it would be better than to
go on any longer leading his miserable, hopeless life in this
dismal, deserted place. He wavered between those two decisive little
monosyllables, yes and no, and could by no means reach a satisfactory
conclusion, when Isabelle, who had been watching the colloquy with
breathless interest, advanced smilingly to where he was standing
somewhat apart with Blazius, and addressed the following words to him,
which speedily put an end to all his uncertainty:

"Our poet, having fallen heir to a fortune, has lately left us, and
his lordship would perhaps be good enough to take his place. I found
accidentally, in opening a volume of Ronsard's poems that lay upon the
table in his room, a piece of paper with a sonnet written upon it, which
must be of his composition, and proves him not unaccustomed to writing
in verse. He could rearrange our parts for us, make the necessary
alterations and additions in the new plays we undertake, and even
perhaps write a piece for us now and then. I have now a very pretty
little Italian comedy by me, which, with some slight modifications,
would suit us nicely, and has a really charming part for me."

With her last words, accompanied though they were with a smile, she gave
the baron such a sweet, wistful look that he could no longer resist; but
the appearance of Pierre at this moment with a large omelette created
a diversion, and interrupted this interesting conversation. They all
immediately gathered round the table, and attacked the really good
breakfast, which the old servant had somehow managed to put before them,
with great zest. As to de Sigognac, he kept them company merely out of
politeness, and trifled with what was on his plate while the others were
eating, having partaken too heartily of the supper the night before to
be hungry now, and, besides, being so much preoccupied with weightier
matters that he was not able to pay much attention to this.

After the meat was finished, and while the chariot was being made ready
for a start, Isabelle and Serafina expressed a desire to go into the
garden, which they looked down upon from the court.

"I am afraid," said de Sigognac, as he aided them to descend the
unsteady, slippery stone steps, "that the briers will make sad work with
your dresses, for thorns abound in my neglected garden, though roses do
not."

The young baron said this in the sad, ironical tone he usually adopted
when alluding to his poverty; but a moment after they suddenly came upon
two exquisite little wild roses, blooming directly in their path. With
an exclamation of surprise de Sigognac gathered them, and as he offered
one to each lady, said, with a smile, "I did not know there was anything
of this sort here, having never found aught but rank weeds and brambles
before; it is your gracious presence that has brought forth these two
blossoms in the midst of ruin and desolation."

Isabelle put her little rose carefully in the bosom of her dress, giving
him her thanks mutely by an eloquent glance, which spoke more perhaps
than she knew, and brought a flush of pleasure to his cheeks. They
walked on to the statue in its rocky niche at the end of the garden, de
Sigognac carefully bending back the branches that obstructed the way.
The young girl looked round with a sort of tender interest at this
overgrown, neglected spot, so thoroughly in keeping with the ruined
chateau that frowned down upon them, and thought pityingly of the long,
dreary hours that the poor baron must have spent here in solitude and
despair. Serafina's face only expressed a cold disdain, but slightly
masked by politeness. To her mind the ruinous condition of things was
anything but interesting, and though she dearly loved a title she had
still greater respect for wealth and magnificence.

"My domain ends here," said the baron, as they reached the grotto of the
statue, "though formerly all the surrounding country, as far as the
eye can reach from the top of that high tower yonder, belonged to my
ancestors. But barely enough remains now to afford me a shelter until
the day comes when the last of the de Sigognacs shall be laid to rest
amid his forefathers in the family vault, thenceforward their sole
possession."

"Do you know you are very much out of spirits this morning?" said
Isabelle in reply, touched by the expression of this sad thought that
had occurred to her also, and assuming a bright, playful air, in the
hope that it might help to chase away the heavy shadow that lay upon
her young host's brow. "Fortune is blind, they say, but nevertheless she
does sometimes shower her good gifts upon the worthy and the brave; the
only thing is that they must put themselves in her way. Come, decide to
go with us, and perhaps in a few years the Chateau de Sigognac, restored
to its ancient splendour, may loom up as proudly as of old; think of
that, my lord, and take courage to quit it for a time. And besides," she
added in a lower tone that only de Sigognac could hear, "I cannot bear
to go away and leave you here alone in this dreary place."

The soft light that shone in Isabelle's beautiful eyes as she murmured
these persuasive words was irresistible to the man who already loved her
madly; and the idea of following his divinity in a humble disguise,
as many a noble knight had done of old, reconciled him to what would
otherwise have seemed too incongruous and humiliating. It could not be
considered derogatory to any gentleman to accompany his lady-love, be
she what she might, actress or princess, and to attach himself, for love
of her bright eyes, to even a band of strolling players. The mischievous
little boy of the bow had compelled even gods and heroes to submit to
all sorts of odd tests and means. Jupiter himself took the form of a
bull to carry off Europa, and swam across the sea with her upon his
back to the island of Crete. Hercules, dressed as a woman, sat spinning
meekly at Omphale's feet. Even Aristotle went upon all fours that his
mistress might ride on his back. What wonder then that our youthful
baron thought that nothing could be too difficult or repulsive in the
service of the lovely being at his side! So he decided at once not
to let her leave him behind, and begging the comedians to wait a few
moments while he made his hurried preparations, drew Pierre aside and
told him in few words of his new project. The faithful old servant,
although nearly heart-broken at the thought of parting with his beloved
master, fully realized how greatly it would be to his advantage to quit
the dreary life that was blighting his youth, and go out into the world;
and while he felt keenly the incongruity of such fellow travellers for
a de Sigognac, yet wisely thought that it was better for him to go thus
than not at all. He quickly filled an old valise with the few articles
of clothing that formed the baron's scanty wardrobe, and put into a
leathern purse the little money he still possessed; secretly adding
thereto his own small hoard, which he could safely do without fear
of detection, as he had the care of the family finances, as well as
everything else about the establishment. The old white pony was brought
out and saddled, for de Sigognac did not wish to get into the chariot
until they had gone some distance from home, not caring to make his
departure public. He would seem thus to be only accompanying his guests
a little way upon their journey, and Pierre was to follow on foot to
lead the horse back home.

The oxen, great slow-moving, majestic creatures, were already harnessed
to the heavy chariot, while their driver, a tall, sturdy peasant lad,
standing in front of them leaning upon his goad, had unconsciously
assumed an attitude so graceful that he closely resembled the sculptured
figures in ancient Greek bas-reliefs. Isabelle and Serafina had seated
themselves in the front of the chariot, so that they could enjoy the
fresh, cool air, and see the country as they passed along; while the
others bestowed themselves inside, where they might indulge in a morning
nap. At last all were ready; the driver gave the word of command, and
the oxen stepped slowly forward, setting in motion the great unwieldy,
lumbering vehicle, which creaked and groaned in lamentable fashion,
making the vaulted portico ring again as it passed through it and out of
the chateau.

In the midst of all this unwonted commotion, Beelzebub and Miraut moved
restlessly about the court, evidently very much perplexed as to what
could be the meaning of it. The old dog ran back and forth from his
master, who always had a caress for him, to Pierre, looking up into
their faces with questioning, anxious eyes, and Beelzebub finally went
and held a consultation with his good friend, the old white pony,
now standing with saddle and bridle on, quietly awaiting his master's
pleasure. He bent down his head so that his lips almost touched
Beelzebub, and really appeared to be whispering something to him; which
the cat in his turn imparted to Miraut, in that mysterious language of
animals which Democritus, claimed that he understood, but which we are
not able to translate. Whatever it might have been that Bayard, the old
pony, communicated to Beelzebub, one thing is certain, that when at last
the baron vaulted into his saddle and sallied forth from his ancient
castle, he was accompanied by both cat and dog. Now, though it was no
uncommon thing for Miraut to follow him abroad, Beelzebub had never been
known to attempt such a feat before.