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diff --git a/1215-0.txt b/1215-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..426d341 --- /dev/null +++ b/1215-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,986 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1215 *** + +THE ELIXIR OF LIFE + + +By Honore De Balzac + + +Translated By Clara Bell and James Waring + + + + + +TO THE READER + +At the very outset of the writer's literary career, a friend, long since +dead, gave him the subject of this Study. Later on he found the same +story in a collection published about the beginning of the present +century. To the best of his belief, it is some stray fancy of the brain +of Hoffmann of Berlin; probably it appeared in some German almanac, +and was omitted in the published editions of his collected works. The +_Comedie Humaine_ is sufficiently rich in original creations for the +author to own to this innocent piece of plagiarism; when, like the +worthy La Fontaine, he has told unwittingly, and after his own fashion, +a tale already related by another. This is not one of the hoaxes in +vogue in the year 1830, when every author wrote his "tale of horror" +for the amusement of young ladies. When you have read the account of +Don Juan's decorous parricide, try to picture to yourself the part which +would be played under very similar circumstances by honest folk who, in +this nineteenth century, will take a man's money and undertake to pay +him a life annuity on the faith of a chill, or let a house to an ancient +lady for the term of her natural life! Would they be for resuscitating +their clients? I should dearly like a connoisseur in consciences to +consider how far there is a resemblance between a Don Juan and fathers +who marry their children to great expectations. Does humanity, which, +according to certain philosophers, is making progress, look on the art +of waiting for dead men's shoes as a step in the right direction? To +this art we owe several honorable professions, which open up ways of +living on death. There are people who rely entirely on an expected +demise; who brood over it, crouching each morning upon a corpse, that +serves again for their pillow at night. To this class belong bishops' +coadjutors, cardinals' supernumeraries, _tontiniers_, and the like. +Add to the list many delicately scrupulous persons eager to buy landed +property beyond their means, who calculate with dry logic and in cold +blood the probable duration of the life of a father or of a step-mother, +some old man or woman of eighty or ninety, saying to themselves, "I +shall be sure to come in for it in three years' time, and then----" A +murderer is less loathsome to us than a spy. The murderer may have acted +on a sudden mad impulse; he may be penitent and amend; but a spy is +always a spy, night and day, in bed, at table, as he walks abroad; his +vileness pervades every moment of his life. Then what must it be to live +when every moment of your life is tainted with murder? And have we not +just admitted that a host of human creatures in our midst are led by +our laws, customs, and usages to dwell without ceasing on a +fellow-creature's death? There are men who put the weight of a coffin +into their deliberations as they bargain for Cashmere shawls for their +wives, as they go up the staircase of a theatre, or think of going to +the Bouffons, or of setting up a carriage; who are murderers in thought +when dear ones, with the irresistible charm of innocence, hold up +childish foreheads to be kissed with a "Good-night, father!" Hourly they +meet the gaze of eyes that they would fain close for ever, eyes that +still open each morning to the light, like Belvidero's in this Study. +God alone knows the number of those who are parricides in thought. +Picture to yourself the state of mind of a man who must pay a life +annuity to some old woman whom he scarcely knows; both live in +the country with a brook between them, both sides are free to hate +cordially, without offending against the social conventions that require +two brothers to wear a mask if the older will succeed to the entail, +and the other to the fortune of a younger son. The whole civilization +of Europe turns upon the principle of hereditary succession as upon a +pivot; it would be madness to subvert the principle; but could we not, +in an age that prides itself upon its mechanical inventions, perfect +this essential portion of the social machinery? + +If the author has preserved the old-fashioned style of address _To the +Reader_ before a work wherein he endeavors to represent all literary +forms, it is for the purpose of making a remark that applies to +several of the Studies, and very specially to this. Every one of his +compositions has been based upon ideas more or less novel, which, as +it seemed to him, needed literary expression; he can claim priority for +certain forms and for certain ideas which have since passed into the +domain of literature, and have there, in some instances, become common +property; so that the date of the first publication of each Study cannot +be a matter of indifference to those of his readers who would fain do +him justice. + +Reading brings us unknown friends, and what friend is like a reader? +We have friends in our own circle who read nothing of ours. The author +hopes to pay his debt, by dedicating this work _Diis ignotis_. + + + + + +THE ELIXIR OF LIFE + +One winter evening, in a princely palace at Ferrara, Don Juan Belvidero +was giving a banquet to a prince of the house of Este. A banquet in +those times was a marvelous spectacle which only royal wealth or the +power of a mightly [sic] lord could furnish forth. Seated about a +table lit up with perfumed tapers, seven laughter-loving women were +interchanging sweet talk. The white marble of the noble works of art +about them stood out against the red stucco walls, and made strong +contrasts with the rich Turkey carpets. Clad in satin, glittering with +gold, and covered with gems less brilliant than their eyes, each told +a tale of energetic passions as diverse as their styles of beauty. +They differed neither in their ideas nor in their language; but the +expression of their eyes, their glances, occasional gestures, or +the tones of their voices supplied a commentary, dissolute, wanton, +melancholy, or satirical, to their words. + +One seemed to be saying--"The frozen heart of age might kindle at my +beauty." + +Another--"I love to lounge upon cushions, and think with rapture of my +adorers." + +A third, a neophyte at these banquets, was inclined to blush. "I feel +remorse in the depths of my heart! I am a Catholic, and afraid of hell. +But I love you, I love you so that I can sacrifice my hereafter to you." + +The fourth drained a cup of Chian wine. "Give me a joyous life!" she +cried; "I begin life afresh each day with the dawn. Forgetful of the +past, with the intoxication of yesterday's rapture still upon me, I +drink deep of life--a whole lifetime of pleasure and of love!" + +The woman who sat next to Juan Belvidero looked at him with a feverish +glitter in her eyes. She was silent. Then--"I should need no hired bravo +to kill my lover if he forsook me!" she cried at last, and laughed, but +the marvelously wrought gold comfit box in her fingers was crushed by +her convulsive clutch. + +"When are you to be Grand Duke?" asked the sixth. There was the frenzy +of a Bacchante in her eyes, and her teeth gleamed between the lips +parted with a smile of cruel glee. + +"Yes, when is that father of yours going to die?" asked the seventh, +throwing her bouquet at Don Juan with bewitching playfulness. It was +a childish girl who spoke, and the speaker was wont to make sport of +sacred things. + +"Oh! don't talk about it," cried Don Juan, the young and handsome giver +of the banquet. "There is but one eternal father, and, as ill luck will +have it, he is mine." + +The seven Ferrarese, Don Juan's friends, the Prince himself, gave a cry +of horror. Two hundred years later, in the days of Louis XV., people of +taste would have laughed at this witticism. Or was it, perhaps, that +at the outset of an orgy there is a certain unwonted lucidity of mind? +Despite the taper light, the clamor of the senses, the gleam of gold and +silver, the fumes of wine, and the exquisite beauty of the women, +there may perhaps have been in the depths of the revelers' hearts some +struggling glimmer of reverence for things divine and human, until it +was drowned in glowing floods of wine! Yet even then the flowers had +been crushed, eyes were growing dull, and drunkenness, in Rabelais' +phrase, had "taken possession of them down to their sandals." + +During that brief pause a door opened; and as once the Divine presence +was revealed at Belshazzar's feast, so now it seemed to be manifest +in the apparition of an old white-haired servant, who tottered in, +and looked sadly from under knitted brows at the revelers. He gave +a withering glance at the garlands, the golden cups, the pyramids of +fruit, the dazzling lights of the banquet, the flushed scared faces, the +hues of the cushions pressed by the white arms of the women. + +"My lord, your father is dying!" he said; and at those solemn words, +uttered in hollow tones, a veil of crape seemed to be drawn over the +wild mirth. + +Don Juan rose to his feet with a gesture to his guests that might be +rendered by, "Excuse me; this kind of thing does not happen every day." + +Does it so seldom happen that a father's death surprises youth in the +full-blown splendor of life, in the midst of the mad riot of an orgy? +Death is as unexpected in his caprice as a courtesan in her disdain; but +death is truer--Death has never forsaken any man. + +Don Juan closed the door of the banqueting-hall; and as he went down +the long gallery, through the cold and darkness, he strove to assume an +expression in keeping with the part he had to play; he had thrown off +his mirthful mood, as he had thrown down his table napkin, at the first +thought of this role. The night was dark. The mute servitor, his guide +to the chamber where the dying man lay, lighted the way so dimly that +Death, aided by cold, silence, and darkness, and it may be by a reaction +of drunkenness, could send some sober thoughts through the spendthrift's +soul. He examined his life, and became thoughtful, like a man involved +in a lawsuit on his way to the Court. + +Bartolommeo Belvidero, Don Juan's father, was an old man of ninety, who +had devoted the greatest part of his life to business pursuits. He had +acquired vast wealth in many a journey to magical Eastern lands, and +knowledge, so it was said, more valuable than the gold and diamonds, +which had almost ceased to have any value for him. + +"I would give more to have a tooth in my head than for a ruby," he would +say at times with a smile. The indulgent father loved to hear Don Juan's +story of this and that wild freak of youth. "So long as these follies +amuse you, dear boy----" he would say laughingly, as he lavished money +on his son. Age never took such pleasure in the sight of youth; the fond +father did not remember his own decaying powers while he looked on that +brilliant young life. + +Bartolommeo Belvidero, at the age of sixty, had fallen in love with an +angel of peace and beauty. Don Juan had been the sole fruit of this late +and short-lived love. For fifteen years the widower had mourned the +loss of his beloved Juana; and to this sorrow of age, his son and +his numerous household had attributed the strange habits that he had +contracted. He had shut himself up in the least comfortable wing of his +palace, and very seldom left his apartments; even Don Juan himself must +first ask permission before seeing his father. If this hermit, unbound +by vows, came or went in his palace or in the streets of Ferrara, he +walked as if he were in a dream, wholly engrossed, like a man at strife +with a memory, or a wrestler with some thought. + +The young Don Juan might give princely banquets, the palace might echo +with clamorous mirth, horses pawed the ground in the courtyards, pages +quarreled and flung dice upon the stairs, but Bartolommeo ate his seven +ounces of bread daily and drank water. A fowl was occasionally dressed +for him, simply that the black poodle, his faithful companion, might +have the bones. Bartolommeo never complained of the noise. If the +huntsmen's horns and baying dogs disturbed his sleep during his illness, +he only said, "Ah! Don Juan has come back again." Never on earth +has there been a father so little exacting and so indulgent; and, +in consequence, young Belvidero, accustomed to treat his father +unceremoniously, had all the faults of a spoiled child. He treated +old Bartolommeo as a wilful courtesan treats an elderly adorer; buying +indemnity for insolence with a smile, selling good-humor, submitting to +be loved. + +Don Juan, beholding scene after scene of his younger years, saw that it +would be a difficult task to find his father's indulgence at fault. Some +new-born remorse stirred the depths of his heart; he felt almost ready +to forgive this father now about to die for having lived so long. He +had an accession of filial piety, like a thief's return in thought to +honesty at the prospect of a million adroitly stolen. + +Before long Don Juan had crossed the lofty, chilly suite of rooms in +which his father lived; the penetrating influences of the damp close +air, the mustiness diffused by old tapestries and presses thickly +covered with dust had passed into him, and now he stood in the old man's +antiquated room, in the repulsive presence of the deathbed, beside a +dying fire. A flickering lamp on a Gothic table sent broad uncertain +shafts of light, fainter or brighter, across the bed, so that the dying +man's face seemed to wear a different look at every moment. The bitter +wind whistled through the crannies of the ill-fitting casements; there +was a smothered sound of snow lashing the windows. The harsh contrast of +these sights and sounds with the scenes which Don Juan had just quitted +was so sudden that he could not help shuddering. He turned cold as he +came towards the bed; the lamp flared in a sudden vehement gust of +wind and lighted up his father's face; the features were wasted and +distorted; the skin that cleaved to their bony outlines had taken wan +livid hues, all the more ghastly by force of contrast with the white +pillows on which he lay. The muscles about the toothless mouth had +contracted with pain and drawn apart the lips; the moans that issued +between them with appalling energy found an accompaniment in the howling +of the storm without. + +In spite of every sign of coming dissolution, the most striking thing +about the dying face was its incredible power. It was no ordinary spirit +that wrestled there with Death. The eyes glared with strange fixity of +gaze from the cavernous sockets hollowed by disease. It seemed as if +Bartolommeo sought to kill some enemy sitting at the foot of his bed by +the intent gaze of dying eyes. That steady remorseless look was the +more appalling because the head that lay upon the pillow was passive and +motionless as a skull upon a doctor's table. The outlines of the body, +revealed by the coverlet, were no less rigid and stiff; he lay there as +one dead, save for those eyes. There was something automatic about the +moaning sounds that came from the mouth. Don Juan felt something like +shame that he must be brought thus to his father's bedside, wearing a +courtesan's bouquet, redolent of the fragrance of the banqueting-chamber +and the fumes of wine. + +"You were enjoying yourself!" the old man cried as he saw his son. + +Even as he spoke the pure high notes of a woman's voice, sustained by +the sound of the viol on which she accompanied her song, rose above the +rattle of the storm against the casements, and floated up to the chamber +of death. Don Juan stopped his ears against the barbarous answer to his +father's speech. + +"I bear you no grudge, my child," Bartolommeo went on. + +The words were full of kindness, but they hurt Don Juan; he could not +pardon this heart-searching goodness on his father's part. + +"What a remorseful memory for me!" he cried, hypocritically. + +"Poor Juanino," the dying man went on, in a smothered voice, "I have +always been so kind to you, that you could not surely desire my death?" + +"Oh, if it were only possible to keep you here by giving up a part of my +own life!" cried Don Juan. + +("We can always _say_ this sort of thing," the spendthrift thought; "it +is as if I laid the whole world at my mistress' feet.") + +The thought had scarcely crossed his mind when the old poodle barked. +Don Juan shivered; the response was so intelligent that he fancied the +dog must have understood him. + +"I was sure that I could count upon you, my son!" cried the dying man. +"I shall live. So be it; you shall be satisfied. I shall live, but +without depriving you of a single day of your life." + +"He is raving," thought Don Juan. Aloud he added, "Yes, dearest father, +yes; you shall live, of course, as long as I live, for your image will +be for ever in my heart." + +"It is not that kind of life that I mean," said the old noble, summoning +all his strength to sit up in bed; for a thrill of doubt ran through +him, one of those suspicions that come into being under a dying man's +pillow. "Listen, my son," he went on, in a voice grown weak with that +last effort, "I have no more wish to give up life than you to give up +wine and mistresses, horses and hounds, and hawks and gold----" + +"I can well believe it," thought the son; and he knelt down by the bed +and kissed Bartolommeo's cold hands. "But, father, my dear father," he +added aloud, "we must submit to the will of God." + +"I am God!" muttered the dying man. + +"Do not blaspheme!" cried the other, as he saw the menacing expression +on his father's face. "Beware what you say; you have received extreme +unction, and I should be inconsolable if you were to die before my eyes +in mortal sin." + +"Will you listen to me?" cried Bartolommeo, and his mouth twitched. + +Don Juan held his peace; an ugly silence prevailed. Yet above the +muffled sound of the beating of the snow against the windows rose the +sounds of the beautiful voice and the viol in unison, far off and faint +as the dawn. The dying man smiled. + +"Thank you," he said, "for bringing those singing voices and the music, +a banquet, young and lovely women with fair faces and dark tresses, all +the pleasure of life! Bid them wait for me; for I am about to begin life +anew." + +"The delirium is at its height," said Don Juan to himself. + +"I have found out a way of coming to life again," the speaker went on. +"There, just look in that table drawer, press the spring hidden by the +griffin, and it will fly open." + +"I have found it, father." + +"Well, then, now take out a little phial of rock crystal." + +"I have it." + +"I have spent twenty years in----" but even as he spoke the old man felt +how very near the end had come, and summoned all his dying strength +to say, "As soon as the breath is out of me, rub me all over with that +liquid, and I shall come to life again." + +"There is very little of it," his son remarked. + +Though Bartolommeo could no longer speak, he could still hear and see. +When those words dropped from Don Juan, his head turned with appalling +quickness, his neck was twisted like the throat of some marble statue +which the sculptor had condemned to remain stretched out for ever, the +wide eyes had come to have a ghastly fixity. + +He was dead, and in death he lost his last and sole illusion. + +He had sought a shelter in his son's heart, and it had proved to be a +sepulchre, a pit deeper than men dig for their dead. The hair on his +head had risen and stiffened with horror, his agonized glance still +spoke. He was a father rising in just anger from his tomb, to demand +vengeance at the throne of God. + +"There! it is all over with the old man!" cried Don Juan. + +He had been so interested in holding the mysterious phial to the lamp, +as a drinker holds up the wine-bottle at the end of a meal, that he had +not seen his father's eyes fade. The cowering poodle looked from his +master to the elixir, just as Don Juan himself glanced again and again +from his father to the flask. The lamplight flickered. There was a +deep silence; the viol was mute. Juan Belvidero thought that he saw his +father stir, and trembled. The changeless gaze of those accusing eyes +frightened him; he closed them hastily, as he would have closed a +loose shutter swayed by the wind of an autumn night. He stood there +motionless, lost in a world of thought. + +Suddenly the silence was broken by a shrill sound like the creaking of +a rusty spring. It startled Don Juan; he all but dropped the phial. A +sweat, colder than the blade of a dagger, issued through every pore. It +was only a piece of clockwork, a wooden cock that sprang out and crowed +three times, an ingenious contrivance by which the learned of that epoch +were wont to be awakened at the appointed hour to begin the labors of +the day. Through the windows there came already a flush of dawn. The +thing, composed of wood, and cords, and wheels, and pulleys, was more +faithful in its service than he in his duty to Bartolommeo--he, a man +with that peculiar piece of human mechanism within him that we call a +heart. + +Don Juan the sceptic shut the flask again in the secret drawer in the +Gothic table--he meant to run no more risks of losing the mysterious +liquid. + +Even at that solemn moment he heard the murmur of a crowd in the +gallery, a confused sound of voices, of stifled laughter and light +footfalls, and the rustling of silks--the sounds of a band of revelers +struggling for gravity. The door opened, and in came the Prince and Don +Juan's friends, the seven courtesans, and the singers, disheveled and +wild like dancers surprised by the dawn, when the tapers that have +burned through the night struggle with the sunlight. + +They had come to offer the customary condolence to the young heir. + +"Oho! is poor Don Juan really taking this seriously?" said the Prince in +Brambilla's ear. + +"Well, his father was very good," she returned. + +But Don Juan's night-thoughts had left such unmistakable traces on his +features, that the crew was awed into silence. The men stood motionless. +The women, with wine-parched lips and cheeks marbled with kisses, knelt +down and began a prayer. Don Juan could scarce help trembling when he +saw splendor and mirth and laughter and song and youth and beauty and +power bowed in reverence before Death. But in those times, in that +adorable Italy of the sixteenth century, religion and revelry went hand +in hand; and religious excess became a sort of debauch, and a debauch a +religious rite! + +The Prince grasped Don Juan's hand affectionately, then when all +faces had simultaneously put on the same grimace--half-gloomy, +half-indifferent--the whole masque disappeared, and left the chamber of +death empty. It was like an allegory of life. + +As they went down the staircase, the Prince spoke to Rivabarella: +"Now, who would have taken Don Juan's impiety for a boast? He loves his +father." + +"Did you see that black dog?" asked La Brambilla. + +"He is enormously rich now," sighed Bianca Cavatolino. + +"What is that to me?" cried the proud Veronese (she who had crushed the +comfit-box). + +"What does it matter to you, forsooth?" cried the Duke. "With his money +he is as much a prince as I am." + +At first Don Juan was swayed hither and thither by countless thoughts, +and wavered between two decisions. He took counsel with the gold heaped +up by his father, and returned in the evening to the chamber of death, +his whole soul brimming over with hideous selfishness. He found all his +household busy there. "His lordship" was to lie in state to-morrow; all +Ferrara would flock to behold the wonderful spectacle; and the servants +were busy decking the room and the couch on which the dead man lay. At a +sign from Don Juan all his people stopped, dumfounded and trembling. + +"Leave me alone here," he said, and his voice was changed, "and do not +return until I leave the room." + +When the footsteps of the old servitor, who was the last to go, echoed +but faintly along the paved gallery, Don Juan hastily locked the door, +and sure that he was quite alone, "Let us try," he said to himself. + +Bartolommeo's body was stretched on a long table. The embalmers had +laid a sheet over it, to hide from all eyes the dreadful spectacle of a +corpse so wasted and shrunken that it seemed like a skeleton, and only +the face was uncovered. This mummy-like figure lay in the middle of +the room. The limp clinging linen lent itself to the outlines it +shrouded--so sharp, bony, and thin. Large violet patches had already +begun to spread over the face; the embalmers' work had not been finished +too soon. + +Don Juan, strong as he was in his scepticism, felt a tremor as he opened +the magic crystal flask. When he stood over that face, he was trembling +so violently, that he was actually obliged to wait for a moment. But Don +Juan had acquired an early familiarity with evil; his morals had been +corrupted by a licentious court, a reflection worthy of the Duke of +Urbino crossed his mind, and it was a keen sense of curiosity that +goaded him into boldness. The devil himself might have whispered the +words that were echoing through his brain, _Moisten one of the eyes with +the liquid_! He took up a linen cloth, moistened it sparingly with +the precious fluid, and passed it lightly over the right eyelid of the +corpse. The eye unclosed.... + +"Aha!" said Don Juan. He gripped the flask tightly, as we clutch in +dreams the branch from which we hang suspended over a precipice. + +For the eye was full of life. It was a young child's eye set in a +death's head; the light quivered in the depths of its youthful liquid +brightness. Shaded by the long dark lashes, it sparkled like the strange +lights that travelers see in lonely places in winter nights. The eye +seemed as if it would fain dart fire at Don Juan; he saw it thinking, +upbraiding, condemning, uttering accusations, threatening doom; it cried +aloud, and gnashed upon him. All anguish that shakes human souls was +gathered there; supplications the most tender, the wrath of kings, the +love in a girl's heart pleading with the headsman; then, and after all +these, the deeply searching glance a man turns on his fellows as he +mounts the last step of the scaffold. Life so dilated in this fragment +of life that Don Juan shrank back; he walked up and down the room, he +dared not meet that gaze, but he saw nothing else. The ceiling and +the hangings, the whole room was sown with living points of fire and +intelligence. Everywhere those gleaming eyes haunted him. + +"He might very likely have lived another hundred years!" he cried +involuntarily. Some diabolical influence had drawn him to his father, +and again he gazed at that luminous spark. The eyelid closed and +opened again abruptly; it was like a woman's sign of assent. It was an +intelligent movement. If a voice had cried "Yes!" Don Juan could not +have been more startled. + +"What is to be done?" he thought. + +He nerved himself to try to close the white eyelid. In vain. + +"Kill it? That would perhaps be parricide," he debated with himself. + +"Yes," the eye said, with a strange sardonic quiver of the lid. + +"Aha!" said Don Juan to himself, "here is witchcraft at work!" And he +went closer to crush the thing. A great tear trickled over the hollow +cheeks, and fell on Don Juan's hand. + +"It is scalding!" he cried. He sat down. The struggle exhausted him; it +was as if, like Jacob of old, he was wrestling with an angel. + +At last he rose. "So long as there is no blood----" he muttered. + +Then, summoning all the courage needed for a coward's crime, he +extinguished the eye, pressing it with the linen cloth, turning his head +away. A terrible groan startled him. It was the poor poodle, who died +with a long-drawn howl. + +"Could the brute have been in the secret?" thought Don Juan, looking +down at the faithful creature. + +Don Juan Belvidero was looked upon as a dutiful son. He reared a +white marble monument on his father's tomb, and employed the greatest +sculptors of the time upon it. He did not recover perfect ease of mind +till the day when his father knelt in marble before Religion, and the +heavy weight of the stone had sealed the mouth of the grave in which he +had laid the one feeling of remorse that sometimes flitted through his +soul in moments of physical weariness. + +He had drawn up a list of the wealth heaped up by the old merchant in +the East, and he became a miser: had he not to provide for a second +lifetime? His views of life were the more profound and penetrating; +he grasped its significance, as a whole, the better, because he saw it +across a grave. All men, all things, he analyzed once and for all; he +summed up the Past, represented by its records; the Present in the law, +its crystallized form; the Future, revealed by religion. He took spirit +and matter, and flung them into his crucible, and found--Nothing. +Thenceforward he became DON JUAN. + +At the outset of his life, in the prime of youth and the beauty of +youth, he knew the illusions of life for what they were; he despised +the world, and made the utmost of the world. His felicity could not +have been of the bourgeois kind, rejoicing in periodically recurrent +_bouilli_, in the comforts of a warming-pan, a lamp of a night, and +a new pair of slippers once a quarter. Nay, rather he seized upon +existence as a monkey snatches a nut, and after no long toying with it, +proceeds deftly to strip off the mere husks to reach the savory kernel +within. + +Poetry and the sublime transports of passion scarcely reached +ankle-depth with him now. He in nowise fell into the error of strong +natures who flatter themselves now and again that little souls will +believe in a great soul, and are willing to barter their own lofty +thoughts of the future for the small change of our life-annuity ideas. +He, even as they, had he chosen, might well have walked with his feet +on the earth and his head in the skies; but he liked better to sit on +earth, to wither the soft, fresh, fragrant lips of a woman with kisses, +for like Death, he devoured everything without scruple as he passed; he +would have full fruition; he was an Oriental lover, seeking prolonged +pleasures easily obtained. He sought nothing but a woman in women, and +cultivated cynicism, until it became with him a habit of mind. When +his mistress, from the couch on which she lay, soared and was lost in +regions of ecstatic bliss, Don Juan followed suit, earnest, expansive, +serious as any German student. But he said I, while she, in the +transports of intoxication, said We. He understood to admiration the art +of abandoning himself to the influence of a woman; he was always clever +enough to make her believe that he trembled like some boy fresh from +college before his first partner at a dance, when he asks her, "Do +you like dancing?" But, no less, he could be terrible at need, could +unsheathe a formidable sword and make short work of Commandants. Banter +lurked beneath his simplicity, mocking laughter behind his tears--for +he had tears at need, like any woman nowadays who says to her husband, +"Give me a carriage, or I shall go into a consumption." + +For the merchant the world is a bale of goods or a mass of circulating +bills; for most young men it is a woman, and for a woman here and there +it is a man; for a certain order of mind it is a salon, a coterie, a +quarter of the town, or some single city; but Don Juan found his world +in himself. + +This model of grace and dignity, this captivating wit, moored his bark +by every shore; but wherever he was led he was never carried away, and +was only steered in a course of his own choosing. The more he saw, +the more he doubted. He watched men narrowly, and saw how, beneath +the surface, courage was often rashness; and prudence, cowardice; +generosity, a clever piece of calculation; justice, a wrong; delicacy, +pusillanimity; honesty, a _modus vivendi_; and by some strange +dispensation of fate, he must see that those who at heart were really +honest, scrupulous, just, generous, prudent, or brave were held cheaply +by their fellow-men. + +"What a cold-blooded jest!" said he to himself. "It was not devised by a +God." + +From that time forth he renounced a better world, and never uncovered +himself when a Name was pronounced, and for him the carven saints in the +churches became works of art. He understood the mechanism of society too +well to clash wantonly with its prejudices; for, after all, he was not +as powerful as the executioner, but he evaded social laws with the wit +and grace so well rendered in the scene with M. Dimanche. He was, in +fact, Moliere's Don Juan, Goethe's Faust, Byron's Manfred, Mathurin's +Melmoth--great allegorical figures drawn by the greatest men of genius +in Europe, to which Mozart's harmonies, perhaps, do no more justice than +Rossini's lyre. Terrible allegorical figures that shall endure as long +as the principle of evil existing in the heart of man shall produce +a few copies from century to century. Sometimes the type becomes +half-human when incarnate as a Mirabeau, sometimes it is an inarticulate +force in a Bonaparte, sometimes it overwhelms the universe with irony +as a Rabelais; or, yet again, it appears when a Marechal de Richelieu +elects to laugh at human beings instead of scoffing at things, or when +one of the most famous of our ambassadors goes a step further and +scoffs at both men and things. But the profound genius of Juan Belvidero +anticipated and resumed all these. All things were a jest to him. +His was the life of a mocking spirit. All men, all institutions, all +realities, all ideas were within its scope. As for eternity, after half +an hour of familiar conversation with Pope Julius II. he said, laughing: + +"If it is absolutely necessary to make a choice, I would rather believe +in God than in the Devil; power combined with goodness always offers +more resources than the spirit of Evil can boast." + +"Yes; still God requires repentance in this present world----" + +"So you always think of your indulgences," returned Don Juan Belvidero. +"Well, well, I have another life in reserve in which to repent of the +sins of my previous existence." + +"Oh, if you regard old age in that light," cried the Pope, "you are in +danger on canonization----" + +"After your elevation to the Papacy nothing is incredible." And they +went to watch the workmen who were building the huge basilica dedicated +to Saint Peter. + +"Saint Peter, as the man of genius who laid the foundation of our double +power," the Pope said to Don Juan, "deserves this monument. Sometimes, +though, at night, I think that a deluge will wipe all this out as with a +sponge, and it will be all to begin over again." + +Don Juan and the Pope began to laugh; they understood each other. A +fool would have gone on the morrow to amuse himself with Julius II. in +Raphael's studio or at the delicious Villa Madama; not so Belvidero. He +went to see the Pope as pontiff, to be convinced of any doubts that he +(Don Juan) entertained. Over his cups the Rovere would have been capable +of denying his own infallibility and of commenting on the Apocalypse. + + + +Nevertheless, this legend has not been undertaken to furnish materials +for future biographies of Don Juan; it is intended to prove to +honest folk that Belvidero did not die in a duel with stone, as some +lithographers would have us believe. + +When Don Juan Belvidero reached the age of sixty he settled in Spain, +and there in his old age he married a young and charming Andalusian +wife. But of set purpose he was neither a good husband nor a good +father. He had observed that we are never so tenderly loved as by +women to whom we scarcely give a thought. Dona Elvira had been devoutly +brought up by an old aunt in a castle a few leagues from San-Lucar in +a remote part of Andalusia. She was a model of devotion and grace. Don +Juan foresaw that this would be a woman who would struggle long against +a passion before yielding, and therefore hoped to keep her virtuous +until his death. It was a jest undertaken in earnest, a game of chess +which he meant to reserve till his old age. Don Juan had learned wisdom +from the mistakes made by his father Bartolommeo; he determined that +the least details of his life in old age should be subordinated to one +object--the success of the drama which was to be played out upon his +death-bed. + +For the same reason the largest part of his wealth was buried in the +cellars of his palace at Ferrara, whither he seldom went. As for the +rest of his fortune, it was invested in a life annuity, with a view to +give his wife and children an interest in keeping him alive; but this +Machiavellian piece of foresight was scarcely necessary. His son, young +Felipe Belvidero, grew up as a Spaniard as religiously conscientious +as his father was irreligious, in virtue, perhaps, of the old rule, "A +miser has a spendthrift son." The Abbot of San-Lucar was chosen by Don +Juan to be the director of the consciences of the Duchess of Belvidero +and her son Felipe. The ecclesiastic was a holy man, well shaped, and +admirably well proportioned. He had fine dark eyes, a head like that of +Tiberius, worn with fasting, bleached by an ascetic life, and, like all +dwellers in the wilderness, was daily tempted. The noble lord had hopes, +it may be, of despatching yet another monk before his term of life was +out. + +But whether because the Abbot was every whit as clever as Don Juan +himself, or Dona Elvira possessed more discretion or more virtue than +Spanish wives are usually credited with, Don Juan was compelled to spend +his declining years beneath his own roof, with no more scandal under +it than if he had been an ancient country parson. Occasionally he would +take wife and son to task for negligence in the duties of religion, +peremptorily insisting that they should carry out to the letter the +obligations imposed upon the flock by the Court of Rome. Indeed, he was +never so well pleased as when he had set the courtly Abbot discussing +some case of conscience with Dona Elvira and Felipe. + +At length, however, despite the prodigious care that the great +magnifico, Don Juan Belvidero, took of himself, the days of decrepitude +came upon him, and with those days the constant importunity of physical +feebleness, an importunity all the more distressing by contrast with the +wealth of memories of his impetuous youth and the sensual pleasures of +middle age. The unbeliever who in the height of his cynical humor had +been wont to persuade others to believe in laws and principles at which +he scoffed, must repose nightly upon a _perhaps_. The great Duke, the +pattern of good breeding, the champion of many a carouse, the proud +ornament of Courts, the man of genius, the graceful winner of hearts +that he had wrung as carelessly as a peasant twists an osier withe, +was now the victim of a cough, of a ruthless sciatica, of an unmannerly +gout. His teeth gradually deserted him, as at the end of an evening the +fairest and best-dressed women take their leave one by one till the room +is left empty and desolate. The active hands became palsy-stricken, +the shapely legs tottered as he walked. At last, one night, a stroke of +apoplexy caught him by the throat in its icy clutch. After that fatal +day he grew morose and stern. + +He would reproach his wife and son with their devotion, casting it in +their teeth that the affecting and thoughtful care that they lavished +so tenderly upon him was bestowed because they knew that his money was +invested in a life annuity. Then Elvira and Felipe would shed bitter +tears and redouble their caresses, and the wicked old man's insinuating +voice would take an affectionate tone--"Ah, you will forgive me, will +you not, dear friends, dear wife? I am rather a nuisance. Alas, Lord in +heaven, how canst Thou use me as the instrument by which Thou provest +these two angelic creatures? I who should be the joy of their lives am +become their scourge..." + +In this manner he kept them tethered to his pillow, blotting out the +memory of whole months of fretfulness and unkindness in one short +hour when he chose to display for them the ever-new treasures of his +pinchbeck tenderness and charm of manner--a system of paternity that +yielded him an infinitely better return than his own father's indulgence +had formerly gained. At length his bodily infirmities reached a point +when the task of laying him in bed became as difficult as the navigation +of a felucca in the perils of an intricate channel. Then came the day of +his death; and this brilliant sceptic, whose mental faculties alone had +survived the most dreadful of all destructions, found himself between +his two special antipathies--the doctor and the confessor. But he was +jovial with them. Did he not see a light gleaming in the future +beyond the veil? The pall that is like lead for other men was thin and +translucent for him; the light-footed, irresistible delights of youth +danced beyond it like shadows. + + + +It was on a beautiful summer evening that Don Juan felt the near +approach of death. The sky of Spain was serene and cloudless; the air +was full of the scent of orange-blossom; the stars shed clear, pure +gleams of light; nature without seemed to give the dying man assurance +of resurrection; a dutiful and obedient son sat there watching him with +loving and respectful eyes. Towards eleven o'clock he desired to be left +alone with this single-hearted being. + +"Felipe," said the father, in tones so soft and affectionate that the +young man trembled, and tears of gladness came to his eyes; never had +that stern father spoken his name in such a tone. "Listen, my son," the +dying man went on. "I am a great sinner. All my life long, however, I +have thought of my death. I was once the friend of the great Pope +Julius II.; and that illustrious Pontiff, fearing lest the excessive +excitability of my senses should entangle me in mortal sin between the +moment of my death and the time of my anointing with the holy oil, gave +me a flask that contains a little of the holy water that once issued +from the rock in the wilderness. I have kept the secret of this +squandering of a treasure belonging to Holy Church, but I am permitted +to reveal the mystery _in articulo mortis_ to my son. You will find the +flask in a drawer in that Gothic table that always stands by the head +of the bed.... The precious little crystal flask may be of use yet again +for you, dearest Felipe. Will you swear to me, by your salvation, to +carry out my instructions faithfully?" + +Felipe looked at his father, and Don Juan was too deeply learned in the +lore of the human countenance not to die in peace with that look as his +warrant, as his own father had died in despair at meeting the expression +in his son's eyes. + +"You deserved to have a better father," Don Juan went on. "I dare +to confess, my child, that while the reverend Abbot of San-Lucar was +administering the Viaticum I was thinking of the incompatibility of the +co-existence of two powers so infinite as God and the Devil----" + +"Oh, father!" + +"And I said to myself, when Satan makes his peace he ought surely to +stipulate for the pardon of his followers, or he will be the veriest +scoundrel. The thought haunted me; so I shall go to hell, my son, unless +you carry out my wishes." + +"Oh, quick; tell me quickly, father." + +"As soon as I have closed my eyes," Don Juan went on, "and that may be +in a few minutes, you must take my body before it grows cold and lay it +on a table in this room. Then put out the lamp; the light of the stars +should be sufficient. Take off my clothes, reciting Aves and Paters the +while, raising your soul to God in prayer, and carefully anoint my +lips and eyes with this holy water; begin with the face, and proceed +successively to my limbs and the rest of my body; my dear son, the power +of God is so great that you must be astonished at nothing." + +Don Juan felt death so near, that he added in a terrible voice, "Be +careful not to drop the flask." + +Then he breathed his last gently in the arms of his son, and his son's +tears fell fast over his sardonic, haggard features. + +It was almost midnight when Don Felipe Belvidero laid his father's body +upon the table. He kissed the sinister brow and the gray hair; then he +put out the lamp. + +By the soft moonlight that lit strange gleams across the country +without, Felipe could dimly see his father's body, a vague white thing +among the shadows. The dutiful son moistened a linen cloth with the +liquid, and, absorbed in prayer, he anointed the revered face. A deep +silence reigned. Felipe heard faint, indescribable rustlings; it was the +breeze in the tree-tops, he thought. But when he had moistened the right +arm, he felt himself caught by the throat, a young strong hand held him +in a tight grip--it was his father's hand! He shrieked aloud; the flask +dropped from his hand and broke in pieces. The liquid evaporated; the +whole household hurried into the room, holding torches aloft. That +shriek had startled them, and filled them with as much terror as if the +Trumpet of the Angel sounding on the Last Day had rung through earth and +sky. The room was full of people, and a horror-stricken crowd beheld the +fainting Felipe upheld by the strong arm of his father, who clutched +him by the throat. They saw another thing, an unearthly spectacle--Don +Juan's face grown young and beautiful as Antinous, with its dark hair +and brilliant eyes and red lips, a head that made horrible efforts, but +could not move the dead, wasted body. + +An old servitor cried, "A miracle! a miracle!" and all the Spaniards +echoed, "A miracle! a miracle!" + +Dona Elvira, too pious to attribute this to magic, sent for the Abbot of +San-Lucar; and the Prior beholding the miracle with his own eyes, being +a clever man, and withal an Abbot desirous of augmenting his revenues, +determined to turn the occasion to profit. He immediately gave out +that Don Juan would certainly be canonized; he appointed a day for the +celebration of the apotheosis in his convent, which thenceforward, he +said, should be called the convent of San Juan of Lucar. At these words +a sufficiently facetious grimace passed over the features of the late +Duke. + +The taste of the Spanish people for ecclesiastical solemnities is so +well known, that it should not be difficult to imagine the religious +pantomime by which the Convent of San-Lucar celebrated the translation +of the _blessed Don Juan Belvidero_ to the abbey-church. The tale of the +partial resurrection had spread so quickly from village to village, that +a day or two after the death of the illustrious nobleman the report had +reached every place within fifty miles of San-Lucar, and it was as good +as a play to see the roads covered already with crowds flocking in on +all sides, their curiosity whetted still further by the prospect of +a _Te Deum_ sung by torchlight. The old abbey church of San-Lucar, a +marvelous building erected by the Moors, a mosque of Allah, which for +three centuries had heard the name of Christ, could not hold the throng +that poured in to see the ceremony. Hidalgos in their velvet mantles, +with their good swords at their sides, swarmed like ants, and were so +tightly packed in among the pillars that they had not room to bend the +knees, which never bent save to God. Charming peasant girls, in the +basquina that defines the luxuriant outlines of their figures, lent an +arm to white-haired old men. Young men, with eyes of fire, walked beside +aged crones in holiday array. Then came couples tremulous with joy, +young lovers led thither by curiosity, newly-wedded folk; children +timidly clasping each other by the hand. This throng, so rich in +coloring, in vivid contrasts, laden with flowers, enameled like a +meadow, sent up a soft murmur through the quiet night. Then the great +doors of the church opened. + +Late comers who remained without saw afar, through the three great open +doorways, a scene of which the theatrical illusions of modern opera can +give but a faint idea. The vast church was lighted up by thousands of +candles, offered by saints and sinners alike eager to win the favor +of this new candidate for canonization, and these self-commending +illuminations turned the great building into an enchanted fairyland. The +black archways, the shafts and capitals, the recessed chapels with gold +and silver gleaming in their depths, the galleries, the Arab traceries, +all the most delicate outlines of that delicate sculpture, burned in +the excess of light like the fantastic figures in the red heart of a +brazier. At the further end of the church, above that blazing sea, rose +the high altar like a splendid dawn. All the glories of the golden lamps +and silver candlesticks, of banners and tassels, of the shrines of the +saints and votive offerings, paled before the gorgeous brightness of +the reliquary in which Don Juan lay. The blasphemer's body sparkled with +gems, and flowers, and crystal, with diamonds and gold, and plumes white +as the wings of seraphim; they had set it up on the altar, where the +pictures of Christ had stood. All about him blazed a host of tall +candles; the air quivered in the radiant light. The worthy Abbot of +San-Lucar, in pontifical robes, with his mitre set with precious stones, +his rochet and golden crosier, sat enthroned in imperial state among his +clergy in the choir. Rows of impassive aged faces, silver-haired old +men clad in fine linen albs, were grouped about him, as the saints who +confessed Christ on earth are set by painters, each in his place, about +the throne of God in heaven. The precentor and the dignitaries of the +chapter, adorned with the gorgeous insignia of ecclesiastical vanity, +came and went through the clouds of incense, like stars upon their +courses in the firmament. + +When the hour of triumph arrived, the bells awoke the echoes far and +wide, and the whole vast crowd raised to God the first cry of praise +that begins the _Te Deum_. A sublime cry! High, pure notes, the voices +of women in ecstasy, mingled in it with the sterner and deeper voices of +men; thousands of voices sent up a volume of sound so mighty, that the +straining, groaning organ-pipes could not dominate that harmony. But +the shrill sound of children's singing among the choristers, the +reverberation of deep bass notes, awakened gracious associations, +visions of childhood, and of man in his strength, and rose above that +entrancing harmony of human voices blended in one sentiment of love. + +_Te Deum laudamus_! + +The chant went up from the black masses of men and women kneeling in +the cathedral, like a sudden breaking out of light in darkness, and the +silence was shattered as by a peal of thunder. The voices floated up +with the clouds of incense that had begun to cast thin bluish veils over +the fanciful marvels of the architecture, and the aisles were filled +with splendor and perfume and light and melody. Even at the moment when +that music of love and thanksgiving soared up to the altar, Don Juan, +too well bred not to express his acknowledgments, too witty not +to understand how to take a jest, bridled up in his reliquary, and +responded with an appalling burst of laughter. Then the Devil having put +him in mind of the risk he was running of being taken for an ordinary +man, a saint, a Boniface, a Pantaleone, he interrupted the melody of +love by a yell, the thousand voices of hell joined in it. Earth blessed, +Heaven banned. The church was shaken to its ancient foundations. + +_Te Deum laudamus_! cried the many voices. + +"Go to the devil, brute beasts that you are! _Dios! Dios! Garajos +demonios!_ Idiots! What fools you are with your dotard God!" and a +torrent of imprecations poured forth like a stream of red-hot lava from +the mouth of Vesuvius. + +"_Deus Sabaoth!... Sabaoth_!" cried the believers. + +"You are insulting the majesty of Hell," shouted Don Juan, gnashing his +teeth. In another moment the living arm struggled out of the reliquary, +and was brandished over the assembly in mockery and despair. + +"The saint is blessing us," cried the old women, children, lovers, and +the credulous among the crowd. + +And note how often we are deceived in the homage we pay; the great man +scoffs at those who praise him, and pays compliments now and again to +those whom he laughs at in the depths of his heart. + +Just as the Abbot, prostrate before the altar, was chanting "_Sancte +Johannes, ora pro noblis_!" he heard a voice exclaim sufficiently +distinctly: "_O coglione_!" + +"What can be going on up there?" cried the Sub-prior, as he saw the +reliquary move. + +"The saint is playing the devil," replied the Abbot. + +Even as he spoke the living head tore itself away from the lifeless +body, and dropped upon the sallow cranium of the officiating priest. + +"Remember Dona Elvira!" cried the thing, with its teeth set fast in the +Abbot's head. + +The Abbot's horror-stricken shriek disturbed the ceremony; all the +ecclesiastics hurried up and crowded about their chief. + +"Idiot, tell us now if there is a God!" the voice cried, as the Abbot, +bitten through the brain, drew his last breath. + + + +PARIS, October 1830. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Elixir of Life, by Honore de Balzac + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1215 *** |