The second species was that of pegasi—which is to say, winged horses that fly through the air as lightly as our swallows. Everyone knows that only one has appeared in our hemisphere, in the time of Bellerophon, but they are quite common in Romancia.
The third species is that of the beautiful white unicorns that have a long horn in the middle of the forehead. They are highly esteemed in the land, although they are not rare there.
Near the park of horses I saw one of griffins and hippogriffs. Those animals are terrible in appearance and one cannot consider without a certain apprehension their terrible claws, their hooked beak, their huge wings and their lion’s tail, but they are, in fact, the most docile of animals and very easy to domesticate. Once one of them has been tamed, one can do anything with it that one wishes. They are admirably convenient for hitching to carriages, and cover a lot of ground in a short time.
As regards centaurs, people once wanted to put them in parks like horses and griffins, because they certainly had a lot of the equine about them, but they would not consent to it, claiming that they were no less human, and as it was, in fact, difficult to decide whether they were humans or horses, the matter remained undecided; in the meantime they were given the liberty to travel the countryside in accordance with their will, and to live in their own manner
The park of hircocervi and chimeras appeared to me to be one of the most curious to see. All those monsters were contained in individual dwellings in the form of cages, which allowed their full height and form to be seen, and formed a kind of menagerie that was very diverting, on the one hand, because of the bizarre assortment of animals combined, and terrible, on the other, because of the monstrous and menacing form of those wild beasts.
Wide canals had been dug to either side of that menagerie, but quite different from one another, because one was full of bright and lively fire, which was maintained continuously with great care in order to lodge and nourish a company of salamanders. The other was filled with beautiful clear and transparent water; it was the dwelling of two or three bands of sirens that were lodged there, as if in a prison, to punish them for the frightful debauchery in which they had engaged a quantity of heroes by means of the charm of their voices. In addition to the retreat to which they were condemned they had been forbidden to sing for some years except for a few pieces of the opera of H***,14 because it was judged that there was no risk of anyone being seduced by it; but they found the song so primitive that they preferred to keep quiet, with the result that they were, in fact, as mute as fish.
In addition to those two canals there was also a rather deep well, which served as a dwelling for basilisks, but I refrained from presenting myself at the opening of the well in order not to risk being killed by the murderous gaze of those monsters.
I passed from there to a quarter where I perceived sheep. I had never seen any so amiable, but I obtained a singular pleasure, above all, in remembering the charming scene that was offered to my eyes. Everyone knows that nothing is more abject or disgusting in our lands than shepherds and shepherdesses, and, never having seen others, I was convinced that everything I had read about those elsewhere, especially those living on the banks of the Lignon, was only playful and pure fiction. It was me who was deluding myself.
No, nothing is as gallant and amiable as the shepherds of Romancia.15 Their attire is always extremely clean, simple but in good taste, scantily laden with adornments but elegant and well-matched to the stature and the figure. All their crooks are decorated with ribbons, the color of which is never chosen at random, for it must always mark the sentiments and dispositions of their heart, and I never saw one that was not also charged with ingenious and very gallant figures.
Although the shepherdesses are ignorant of the usage of rouge, ceruse, beauty spots and all borrowed attractions, that is because the natural gleam and vivacity of their complexion surpass anything that artistry can lend to charms. The only adornment of their heads consists of a few new flowers, which, mingled with the curls of their hair, have an effect a thousand times more charming than pearls or diamonds. But what completes rendering them the most amiable women in the world is the touching and natural grace with which they are all provided.
Whether they are lively or more tranquil in humor, whether they are singing or dancing, smiling or sad, asleep or awake, they do everything with so much grace and gentility that there is no heart so insensible that it is not moved thereby. Amiable candor and innocent simplicity are virtues that never quit them. They are ignorant even of the names of dissimulation, perfidy and infidelity, and of the dangerous artifices that jealousy or coquetry put to work.
The shepherd who lives among them is the most fortunate of men; if he is in love, he is sure of being beloved; his tenderness is repaid with tenderness, and his constancy with fidelity. The shepherd who is not in love and who cherishes his indifference has no fear of being seduced by the deceptive wiles of a perfidious or flighty coquette. Amour and simplicity is their motto, and the Golden Age recommences every day for them.
What is most admirable about them is that with the innocent simplicity that makes their character, the shepherds and shepherdesses, like those of the Lignon, combine all the most sought-after refinements of the most delicate amour and the most sensitive of hearts; but it is unusual for them ever to make use of them except to the profit of amour itself. Sitting in the shade of verdant boscage, or on the edge of a clear stream, one always sees them agreeably occupied in singing their amours and making the echoes of the valleys resound to the music of their flutes and reed pipes. The birds never fail to mingle their tender songs with it, and the streams join in as well with their soft murmur.
The flocks sense the felicity of their masters and one always sees the sheep and the lambs bounding in the meadows without the wolves daring to cause them the slightest alarm. Furthermore, those happy shepherds never think of the bonds of matrimony. They put all their satisfaction into receiving a few tender marks of amity from their virtuous and chaste shepherdesses, and until death they constantly prefer the hope of possession to the insipid mildness of possession itself.
I confess that, touched by a spectacle so cheerful and so gracious, I was tempted to take up a basket and a crook immediately and settle down in such a beautiful abode, in order to spend the rest of my days in peace and innocence and to savor the sweetness of tranquil repose forever. I am not even the first person for whom that thought has come to mind, on merely reading about the perfect rewards that innocent simplicity can find on the edge of springs, in the meadows, the woods and the forests, but, making the reflection that I would always be the master of choosing that kind of life whenever I wanted, and that I still had a vast country to travel, I continued my route.
On the way I noticed a few bulls without horns, because they had been removed in order to make horns of plenty; I saw other bulls that had horns and hooves of bronze, cows of admirable beauty that descended from the famous Io, several Amaltheian goats, Cerberuses, or large three-headed dogs, booted cats and green monkeys. Above all, a little further on, I saw, in a little lake, a frightful hydra with seven heads, each of which opened a terrible mouth armed with trenchant and venomous teeth. As I did not have Hercules’s club or any enchanted sword, I refrained from approaching it, and even hastened to draw away.
That finally gave me the opportunity to encounter the inhabitants of the land.
IV. The Inhabitants of Romancia
I was surprised only to have encountered animals thus far, except for the shepherds and shepherdesses that I have mentioned. I knew that, in general, the Romancians are great travelers, but I could not imagine that the country was absolutely deserted. Finally, looking into the distance in all directions, I perceived a place that seemed to me to be densely populated. It was, in fact, a promenade, where a considerable number of the inhabitants of both sexes had the custom of going to take the air.
I headed in that direction, and I had the pleasure, on the way, of verifying for myself somethin
g that I had always had difficulty believing: that flowers are born under the footfalls of beautiful women; for I remarked on the ground several traces of flowers still fresh, that ended at the edge of the promenade and surely had no other origin. The specific place where the beauties were walking was covered with them, and in Romancia no other secret is known for having the most beautiful flowers in gardens and flower-beds in all seasons.
I found everyone divided into various parties of four, three or two, as many men as women, and several who were walking alone slightly apart. As I did not know anyone I thought I ought to follow the last example, in order to examine the countenance and manners of the Romancians before approaching one of them.
The first observation I made was that of not perceiving any children or old people. There are, in fact, none in the whole of Romancia, and the reason will soon become clear. The entire nation, in consequence, consists of a brilliant, healthy, vigorous, fresh youth, the most beautiful in the world. That proposition is so exactly true that one cannot, without injustice, make the slightest comparison in that regard. The French, for example, are reputed to be a reasonably good-looking nation, but if one examines them closely, one finds many ill-made people among them, and nothing is more common than seeing people who are entirely deformed. One also sees faces there so disagreeable, with mouths too small, noses too long, mouths too wide and chins too sharp.
Now, that is what one never sees in Romancia; it is, however, true, that a small race of extremely ugly men and women has been conserved there throughout the ages in order to serve as a contrast when the occasion arrives, in accordance with the need of writers. Apart from the fact that their number is very small, however that is a race as foreign to Romancia as negroes are to Europe, and it is very unusual to encounter a woman there who does not have a perfectly beautiful figure; a slightly elongated nose or slightly small eyes are regarded there a monstrous.
Everyone, as many men as women, and especially the latter, have extremely regular facial features. It is there that the whiteness of the forehead effaces that of alabaster, that the arches of eyebrows dispute perfection with the rainbow; it is there that ebony and snow, lilies and roses, coral and pearls, gold and silver, sometimes all mixed together and sometimes separately, collaborate in forming the most beautiful heads and the most beautiful faces that one can imagine; all the ladies there have, above all, eyes of an admirable beauty; they know that somewhere in the country there are others as beautiful, but they are rare, because they are brilliant stars whose glare dazzles, suns from which a thousand streaks of flame depart that set all hearts ablaze; at the sight of them one sees cold indifference melt like ice exposed to the ardor of the sun; Amour makes his dwelling there in order to launch his arrows more surely, and no shot ever misses. Oh, what heart can resist them? There is no defense against them; sooner or later it is necessary to yield and surrender with a good grace to such powerful conquerors.
What completes making the inhabitants of Romancia the most beautiful women one can see, however, is that in addition to all those features of beauty they all have a delicate air, a noble physiognomy, something both majestic and gracious, proud and gentle, pen and reserved; something charming, mysteriously engaging, a cast of the visage so attractive, a certain charm in the mannerisms, a certain grace in speech, a smile so soft, charms that are indescribable, a thousand things that are inexpressible—in a word, a thousand I-know-not-what that enchant you I know-not-how.
That is, however, not all, for, as if nature delighted in exhausting all her gifts to make the inhabitants of Romancia at the expense of all the rest of the human race, one sees combined with so many natural advantages all the perfections of body and mind that can be desired; they all dance admirably well; they sing delightfully; they play instruments with the greatest perfection; they have an infinite skill in all bodily exercises; if there is a joust, they win all the prizes; if there is a combat, they always emerge victorious. One can judge in consequence how much greater an advantage there is being born a citizen of Romancia than in being born a prince, a duke or, at one time, a Roman citizen.
I confess that it was not without an extreme confusion that I saw myself, at first, in the midst of a people so well made, for, although I am not deformed, I render myself the justice of thinking that, compared with so many good looking people, I must have appeared a disgraceful specimen of humanity. That thought struck me so forcefully that, in the dread of being an object of ridicule, I retired to an isolated spot in order to hide from the eyes of passers-by.
There, as I deplored the discomfort of my situation, my reflections bore me naturally to take a small mirror out of my pocket in order to look at myself. What was my astonishment to find myself changed to the point of no longer recognizing myself! My hair, which had been almost red, was the most beautiful blond; my forehead was broader, my eyes, having become keen and brilliant, were no longer sunken; my nose, which had been too elevated, was reduced to a just proportion; my overly large mouth had narrowed; my overly flat chin had rounded out; my entire physiognomy was charming.
I understood immediately that it was to the local atmosphere that I owed such a fortunate change, but I had the weakness…shall I confess it? Will my readers pardon me…? No matter, it is necessary to admit it; it ill behooves a Romancian writer not to be sincere, and I have promised to be... I admit, then, that I was transported by joy to find myself so handsome and well-made.
Does beauty, a trivial advantage, merit human esteem? No, undoubtedly. But at the time, those reflections did not come to mind. I could not weary of looking at myself and admiring myself. I studied a thousand agreeable facial expressions in my mirror; I was smug, and, flattering myself that I would soon make some important conquest. I hastened to join the companies of men and women that I had left.
I joined several in succession, with all the liberty that I knew that the laws of the land permitted, and I stayed in the place for some time in order to familiarize myself with their mores, their mentality, their manners and their character. All that detail is so curious that the readers will doubtless be glad to be informed of it.
One does not see as much wit shine anywhere as in Romancian conversations, but it is not so much the wit that one admires therein as the sentiments and the fashion of their expression; for, as amour is the subject of all their conversations and they like to talk about it a great deal, they find turns of phrase so long and so varied to express something that we would say in four words, that a entire day would never be sufficient for them and they would be obliged to postpone some until the following day. They have, above all, such a talent for, so to speak, decomposing and anatomizing all the thoughts of the mind and all the sentiments of the heart that one is tempted to compare them to lace whose network is wrought with extreme delicacy.
How different human tastes are! What we treat here, by virtue of our barbarity, as verbiage and gibberish is what shines there, and is held in highest esteem in Romancian conversations—among others, the tirades of minute reflections on everything happens inside an amorous, anxious, uncertain, suspicious, jealous or satisfied heart. All that, expressed at length, with the for and the against, the yes and the no, the empty and the full, the clear and the obscure, makes a discourse that enchants; there are a thousand petty trivia, each of which is almost nothing, but all those trivia, all those tiny things, when placed end-to-end, have a marvelous effect.
It is true that it is necessary to know the language of the country, as I shall soon explain; otherwise, many beauties and shafts of wit would escape you, but once one possesses it, one savors an infinite satisfaction therein—that, at least, is my opinion; the reader may think otherwise if he judges it appropriate, for it is necessary, so it is said, not to dispute tastes.
I shall pass lightly over the nourishment of the Romancians; it is very simple, as I have said elsewhere, and, in fact, when one is in love, and even more so when one is beloved, what need does one have to eat and drink? Nor I shall say any more about thei
r attire; it is ordinarily rather negligent, for the reason that in Romancia, scrupulous attire never adds anything to a person’s charms; it is, on the contrary, always natural charms that heighten clothing.
A few princesses in that country, however have a rather singular privilege, which is that of dressing as men and traveling the world thus for years, mingling with cavaliers and soldiers, in taverns and the most dangerous places, without shocking decency. Those sorts of disguises were once highly esteemed, in fact, especially if a damsel in the attire of a cavalier, happened to encounter a lover dressed as a damsel, which made a event so singular, so novel and so ingeniously imagined that it never failed to be applauded.
What readers will doubtless be glad to know, however, is the character of the Romancian people
There was a certain mischief in the man who first represented the god of love as a child, for it seems that he wanted to insinuate by that means that amour is merely puerility and that lovers resemble children. But who can be persuaded of that, when it is so well proven by the testimony of so many grave authors that, of all the passions, amour is the most beautiful and the most heroic, to the point that, for a long time, all the heroes of the theater, and even those of opera, do not seem to have known any other passion except for its form? One can judge it even better by the character of the inhabitants of Romancia, who are the most perfect of lovers.
These are the principal traits that I shall report, merely to sketch the portrait.
They have a talent for occupying themselves very seriously for an entire day, or a entire month, if necessary, with the smallest bagatelle; they weep copiously for the slightest thing; an indifferent gaze or an equivocal word makes them dissolve in tears. That is because they are, in fact, extremely delicate and sensitive; the majority are, simultaneously, so anxious that they do not know themselves what they desire or what they lack; they want and they do not want; one can assure them of something twenty times over in vain. Should they believe what they have been told? Should they be afflicted or rejoice? Are they satisfied or not? That is what they never know.
Funestine and Other Adventures in Romancia Page 12