by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XIX. THE CHOLERA MASQUERADE.(39)
A stream of people, who preceded the masquerade, made a sudden irruptionthrough the arch into the square, uttering loud cheers as they advanced.Children were also there, blowing horns, whilst some hooted and othershissed.
The quarryman, Ciboule, and their band, attracted by this new spectacle,rushed tumultuously towards the arch. Instead of the two eating-houses,which now (1845) stand on either side of the Rue d'Arcole, there wasthen only one, situated to the left of the vaulted passage, and muchcelebrated amongst the joyous community of students, for the excellenceboth of its cookery and its wines. At the first blare of the trumpets,sounded by the outriders in livery who preceded the masquerade, thewindows of the great room of the eating-house were thrown open, andseveral waiters, with their napkins under their arms, leaned forward,impatient to witness the arrival of the singular guests they wereexpecting.
At length, the grotesque procession made its appearance in the thick ofan immense uproar. The train comprised a chariot, escorted by men andwomen on horseback, clad in rich and elegant fancy dresses. Most ofthese maskers belonged to the middle and easy classes of society. Thereport had spread that masquerade was in preparation, for the purposeof daring the cholera, and, by this joyous demonstration, to revivethe courage of the affrighted populace. Immediately, artists, young menabout town, students, and so on, responded to the appeal, and thoughtill now unknown one to the other, they easily fraternized together.Many brought their mistresses, to complete the show. A subscription hadbeen opened to defray the expenses, and, that morning, after a splendidbreakfast at the other end of Paris, the joyous troop had startedbravely on their march, to finish the day by a dinner in the square ofNotre Dame.
We say bravely, for it required a singular turn of mind, a rare firmnessof character, in young women, to traverse, in this fashion, a greatcity plunged in consternation and terror--to fall in at every step withlitters loaded with the dying, and carriages filled with the dead--todefy, as it were, in a spirit of strange pleasantry, the plague that wasdetonating the Parisians. It is certain that, in Paris alone, andthere only amongst a peculiar class, could such an idea have ever beenconceived or realized. Two men, grotesquely disguised as postilions ata funeral, with formidable false noses, rose-colored crape hat-bands andlarge favors of roses and crape bows at their buttonholes, rode beforethe vehicle. Upon the platform of the car were groups of allegoricalpersonages, representing WINE, PLEASURE, LOVE, PLAY. The mission ofthese symbolical beings was, by means of jokes, sarcasms, and mockeries,to plague the life out of Goodman Cholera, a sort of funeral andburlesque Cassander, whom they ridiculed and made game of in a hundredways. The moral of the play was this: "To brave Cholera in security, letus drink, laugh, game, and make love!"
WINE was represented by a huge, lusty Silenus, thick-set, and withswollen paunch, a crown of ivy on his brow, a panther's skin across hisshoulder, and in his hand a large gilt goblet, wreathed with flowers.None other than Ninny Moulin, the famous moral and religious writer,could have exhibited to the astonished and delighted spectators anear of so deep a scarlet, so majestic an abdomen, and a face of suchtriumphant and majestic fulness. Every moment, Ninny Moulin appeared toempty his cup--after which he burst out laughing in the face of GoodmanCholera. Goodman Cholera, a cadaverous pantaloon, was half-enveloped ina shroud; his mask of greenish cardboard, with red, hollow eyes, seemedevery moment to grin as in mockery of death; from beneath his powderedperuke, surmounted by a pyramidical cotton night-cap, appeared his neckand arm, dyed of a bright green color; his lean hand, which shook almostalways with a feverish trembling (not feigned, but natural), rested upona crutch-handled cane; finally, as was becoming in a pantaloon, he worered stockings, with buckles at the knees, and high slippers of blackbeaver. This grotesque representative of the cholera was Sleepinbuff.
Notwithstanding a slow and dangerous fever, caused by the excessive useof brandy, and by constant debauchery, that was silently undermining hisconstitution, Jacques Rennepont had been induced by Morok to join themasquerade. The brute-tamer himself, dressed as the King of Diamonds,represented PLAY. His forehead was adorned with a diadem of gildedpaper, his face was pale and impassible, and as his long, yellow beardfell down the front of his parti-colored robe, Morok looked exactlythe character he personated. From time to time, with an air of gravemockery, he shook close to the eyes of Goodman Cholera a large bag fullof sounding counters, and on this bag were painted all sorts of playingcards. A certain stiffness in the right arm showed that the lion-tamerhad not yet quite recovered from the effects of the wound which thepanther had inflicted before being stabbed by Djalma.
PLEASURE, who also represented Laughter, classically shook her rattle,with its sonorous gilded bells, close to the ears of Goodman Cholera.She was a quick, lively young girl, and her fine black hair was crownedwith a scarlet cap of liberty. For Sleepinbuff's sake, she had taken theplace of the poor Bacchanal queen, who would not have failed to attendon such an occasion--she, who had been so valiant and gay, when shebore her part in a less philosophical, but not less amusing masquerade.Another pretty creature, Modeste Bornichoux, who served as a model toa painter of renown (one of the cavaliers of the procession), waseminently successful in her representation of LOVE. He could not havehad a more charming face, and more graceful form. Clad in a light bluespangled tunic, with a blue and silver band across her chestnut hair,and little transparent wings affixed to her white shoulders, sheplaced one forefinger upon the other, and pointed with the prettiestimpertinence at Goodman Cholera. Around the principal group, othermaskers, more or less grotesque in appearance, waved each a banner, anwhich were inscriptions of a very anacreontic character, considering thecircumstances:
"Down with the Cholera!" "Short and sweet!" "Laugh away, laugh always!""We'll collar the Cholera!" "Love forever!" "Wine forever!" "Come if youdare, old terror!"
There was really such audacious gayety in this masquerade, that thegreater number of the spectators, at the moment when it crossed thesquare, in the direction of the eating-house, where dinner was waiting,applauded it loudly and repeatedly. This sort of admiration, whichcourage, however mad and blind, almost always inspires, appeared toothers (a small number, it must be confessed) a kind of defiance to thewrath of heaven; and these received the procession with angry murmurs.This extraordinary spectacle, and the different impressions itproduced, were too remote from all customary facts to admit of a justappreciation. We hardly know if this daring bravado was deserving ofpraise or blame.
Besides, the appearance of those plagues, which from age to age decimatethe population of whole countries, has almost always been accompanied bya sort of mental excitement, which none of those who have been sparedby the contagion can hope to escape. It is a strange fever of the mind,which sometimes rouses the most stupid prejudices and the most ferociouspassions, and sometimes inspires, on the contrary, the most magnificentdevotion, the most courageous actions--with some, driving the fearof death to a point of the wildest terror--with others, exciting thecontempt of life to express itself in the most audacious bravadoes.Caring little for the praise or blame it might deserve, the masqueradearrived before the eating-house, and made its entry in the midst ofuniversal acclamations. Everything seemed to combine to give full effectto this strange scene, by the opposition of the most singular contrasts.Thus the tavern, in which was to be held this extraordinary feast, beingsituated at no great distance from the antique cathedral, and the gloomyhospital, the religious anthems of the ancient temple, the cries of thedying, and the bacchanalian songs of the banqueteers, must needs mingle,and by turns drown one another. The maskers now got down from theirchariot, and from their horses, and went to take their places at therepast, which was waiting for them. The actors in the masquerade areat table in the great room of the tavern. They are joyous, noisy, evenriotous. Yet their gayety has a strange tone, peculiar to itself.
Sometimes, the most resolute involuntarily remember that their life isat stake in this mad and audaci
ous game with destiny. That fatal thoughtis rapid as the icy fever-shudder, which chills you in an instant;therefore, from time to time, an abrupt silence, lasting indeed only fora second, betrays these passing emotions which are almost immediatelyeffaced by new bursts of joyful acclamation, for each one says tohimself: "No weakness! my chum and my girl are looking at me!"
And all laugh, and knock glasses together, and challenge the next man,and drink out of the glass of the nearest woman. Jacques had taken offthe mask and peruke of Goodman Cholera. His thin, leaden features, hisdeadly paleness, the lurid brilliancy of his hollow eyes, showedthe incessant progress of the slow malady which was consuming thisunfortunate man, brought by excesses to the last extremity of weakness.Though he felt the slow fire devouring his entrails, he concealed hispain beneath a forced and nervous smile.
To the left of Jacques was Morok, whose fatal influence was ever on theincrease, and to his right the girl disguised as PLEASURE. She was namedMariette. By her side sat Ninny Moulin, in all his majestic bulk, whooften pretended to be looking for his napkin under the table, in orderto have the opportunity of pressing the knees of his other neighbor,Modeste, the representative of LOVE. Most of the guests were groupedaccording to their several tastes, each tender pair together, and thebachelors where they could. They had reached the second course, and theexcellence of the wine, the good cheer, the gay speeches, and even thesingularity of the occasion, had raised their spirits to a high degreeof excitement, as may be gathered from the extraordinary incidents ofthe following scene.
(39) We read in the Constitutionnel, Saturday March 31st, 1832: "TheParisians readily conform to that part of the official instructionswith regard to the cholera, which prescribes, as a preservation from thedisease, not to be afraid, to amuse one's self, etc. The pleasures ofMid-Lent have been as brilliant and as mad as those of the carnivalitself. For a long time past there had not been so many balls at thisperiod of the year. Even the cholera has been made the subject of anitinerant caricature."