The Rebellion in the Cevennes, an Historical Novel. Vol. II.

by Ludwig Tieck

  CHAPTER III.

  "Are you satiated with the buffoonery?" asked the fierce man of theyouth after some time. "I should have thought that you had served yourapprenticeship, and were now looking about for some more profitablebusiness."

  "Wretched man!" exclaimed Edmond, "thou, who neither believest in God,nor man, begone from my presence, for thy thoughts poison my mind."

  "Not so haughty, young gentleman," cried the former in a banteringtone! "today my fist, in spite of my poisonous thoughts, has renderedyou good service, that is, if you do not estimate life as cheaply as Ido; but, as yet, your milky face has not the appearance of that. Whythen are you of a disposition so inhumanly virtuous? Let me stillcontinue to enjoy your gracious society, for I am indeed yours; earlyto-day, you begged me off indeed almost like a dog, therefore, you mustallow me to bark and to remain near you, so that no other may biteyou."

  "How couldst thou then have sunk so low?" asked Edmond with some littlesympathy. "I have merely remained stationary," said the formercomposedly, "I have only not been enabled to raise myself, and as Ihave perceived no wings on my shoulders, I had no wish to put any on,and still less to address myself on the subject to the first best gooseI met, who, moreover, could not have assisted me."

  "Thou meanest," said Edmond, "that thou hast formerly been a man likeothers?"

  "Very probably," replied the robber: "now perhaps there is not so greata gulf between you and me. If one man rates himself so highly, thencertainly to the mind the distance appears immeasureable as between theking and the beggar; but place both naked on a desert island together,then are they brothers and boon companions, provided the one does notdevour the other. Thus is it also with the so called souls: when theycompose verses, or are in love, then indeed they think themselvesmiracles enshrined, but let them but fall into despair, become utterlywild and untractable, then all affectation disappears like the rougefrom the cheeks of the harlot when she is compelled to wander about ina shower of rain."

  "Have you never heard my name perchance? I am called Lacoste, I shouldbe surprised if you had not." Edmond became thoughtful. "It occurs tome," said he after a while, "that this name is not totally unknown tome; but I cannot revive my memory."

  "Aye, good, young soul," continued Lacoste in his peculiar way. "Inyour green age, I was a gallant spendthrift, a sweet rabbit, that withrosy smiling lips, flattered every one, only tell me, have you ever yetloved passionately?"

  "Oh silence!" angrily exclaimed Edmond: "who now would speak of thatwith you?"

  "A curious discourse that we are holding," said Lacoste coolly; "if youknow nothing of it, so much the better for you, but at your age, I wasso thoroughly in love and enraptured, that a mere touch from me wouldhave made a thousand men in love, as by the magnet the bar of ironacquires the power of attraction. At that time, the earth, with all itsstones, appeared to me transparent, I was so benevolent andaffectionate, that I would willingly have given my eye-brows to thenightingales, that they might carry them to their nests, to make a bedfor their young brood. And beautiful was my beloved, the blind mightalmost have been aware of it, she was even still more loving andcompassionate than I was. She would indeed have voluntarily taken uponherself all the suffering and sorrows of the whole world, would haveeven suffered herself to be condemned, could she thereby have releasedfrom hell, and make the hungry and sick, rich and healthy."

  "Even in your wickedness," said Edmond, softened, "you represent thisgirl as a noble one, who was well worthy of her heavenly origin."

  "Heavenly," said the former, "to disgust: quite natural. That is justwhat I mean. To every beggar she would have freely given her all; butto me--she saw my love, my despair, how I only breathed in her looks,how I withered away, and my grief, my inexpressible misery wouldassuredly have driven me to the grave or to madness.--But that wasindifferent to her, more even then indifferent, it was pleasing to her."

  "But how is such a thing possible?" asked Edmond.

  "Every thing has its drawback," resumed Lacoste. "It is but just, whensenseless fools, such as I was, are ill-treated by women, that they mayserve as an example to other simpletons. But she would however haveleant to mercy's rather than to justice's side, had it not been for afault that lay within myself and which still oppresses me, although Ido not see it as such."

  "And what is it?"

  "The same upon which our conversation commenced; those same wings whichalways sit so ridiculously upon us. To come to the point, I was notreligious; I could by no means comprehend how people made thisdiscovery. I had learned to think, to judge, to fancy, but I couldbelieve neither of the new lights of which I had heard so much. Fromwhence was I to derive it too? I exist, I rejoice if all goes on wellwith me, shall I render thanks for that? be resigned and humble? Well,to whom am I to rescribe the innumerable sorrows? all the sufferings ofthis wretched life? the multiplied griefs? There is no one whom I dareaccuse of it. But even all this I am to receive with joy and humility!If it go well with me: superabundant benevolence; if wrong: parentalcorrection. I cannot conceive such things as other brains have done.The nameless Being, whom I know not how to represent to myself at all,or only with giddiness and with terror, sustains worlds, permitsshipwrecks, wars and earthquakes, therefore he may now suffer me and mythoughts. But he will, he cannot approach me closely, as they say, if Ido not draw near him with contrition, if I do not believe and speakthus and thus of him; edifices, words, prostrations, belong thereto, inorder to lay him as by magic in fetters, that he may take an interestin me, that he may love me, he must even first excite my commiseration.Aye, truly all this roused my wrath. Instead of these loving, religiousmen having patience, instructing and sympathising with me, they imaginethey can offer no satisfaction to their God of love, if they do nothold me in execration."

  "Fearful man!" exclaimed Edmonds "how could they do otherwise? if theflame of the stake be kindly; it certainly is so for such as you."

  "Naturally!" said Lacoste, with a loud laugh. "As the jews burn goldout of old garments, so also out of the most hardened, callous andheartless sinner, a little spark of religion may be extracted byburning. The best and most supportable of all this, is that theymassacre and inflict martyrdom on one another for the sake of thisfaith of love, and each treats the other as heretic, each curses theother and gives him up to hell, but, however much all parties may rageagainst one another, they still invariably agree in my damnation." "Asign," said the youth, "that though all may err in themselves, withregard to you, they still possess the truth."

  "I envy them not their possession," replied the old man; "my life, allmy sorrows, even when I became wicked and with justice so, I haveonly to thank this egoism, which calls itself humility, inspiration,love, or religion; I was rejected, persecuted, nay to use the sillyexpression, misunderstood, for what man knows another, or even himself?Impoverished, brokenhearted, I went forth, and my friends gladly saw medepart. In every country this self-same miserable farce was repeated.They would willingly have lent me their aid, confided in me, probablyhave loved me, had I but possessed this so called religion. The foolishvirtue of my probity was lost sight of, that I would pretend to none,even to the very best of them. A few marriages which were almostdecided upon with me, were broken off for the same cause. It did notfare better with me in other quarters of the world; thus am I become anold man, thus am I become a villain, and I returned, to revenge myselfon my beloved countrymen, and on my friends. Then you came and spoiledthe thing with me: just, you yourself! strange enough!"

  "How so?" asked Edmond excited.

  "Come let us go," said the stranger, "we ought to seek our comradesagain."

  They arose and walked as chance directed through mountain and wood.When they ascended higher, they observed a thick smoke advancingtowards them, blackening the heavens with dark clouds. A distant crydirected their steps. As they proceeded, they beheld on the summit ofthe mountain a number of rebels moving hurriedly to and fro. WhenEdmond approached he thought he recognis
ed Roland. It was he too, butbefore he was able to advance towards the leader, a young man rushedwith a terrific shout, to meet him. "Brother!" exclaimed he,interrupted by sobs and rage, "brother, all is over! The incendiarieshave rendered thee for ever unhappy."

  It was difficult for Edmond to recognise his young friend Vila. "Whatis the matter with thee? whence comest thou?" asked he at length,amazed.

  "I am now one of yours!" exclaimed Vila: "I have not been able togovern my heart, since I beheld the affliction of our people. Yes, Iwill assist you to annihilate, to murder, to tear to pieces thesemurderous slaves, which, to the shame of all created beings, bear butthe figures of men." When Edmond desired to question, to gain someinformation, Vila drew him higher up the mountain, and the youth stoodagain above, and looked down, as on that night, upon his father'sgarden and house; but the house was in ruins, the fire was still ragingthrough the apartments, and thick columns of smoke arose, between whichwas seen a consuming glow, that frequently sent red streams sidewaysand upwards; shepherds and peasants stood beneath, many were gazingfixedly on the spectacle, some seeking powerless help and deliverance.

  "Where is my father?" exclaimed Edmond, when he had recovered from thefirst shock. "Fled," answered Vila, "no one knows whither; child,servants, all were compelled to escape, for the Marshal and theIntendant had summoned him to a severe account at Nismes. Whenmiscreants, who call themselves soldiers, found the house quite empty,they plundered, and then set fire to it."

  "I have now nothing more to care for," said Edmond coldly.

  "Ah! ha!" cried Lacoste, "has it then fared so ill with the old Lord,my ancient rival, my former friend and foe? see now yourself, we hadlately scarcely an idea of worse than what has now happened, when you,Ned, stopped us in the business."

  No one heard him, and all gazed in silence, Edmond with deadly palecountenance, down on the raging fire.