The prior knew that Barnabas’s mind was innocent, but thought that he had fallen into insanity. They were preparing to drag him out of the chapel as quickly as they could, when they saw the Holy Virgin descend the stairs of the altar in order to wipe with a fold of her blue mantle the perspiration which fell from the juggler’s forehead.
Then the prior, kneeling with his face against the marble slabs, recited these words:
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
“Amen,” replied the elders, kissing the earth.
The Short Stories
France lived at No. 15 Quai Malaquais, Paris 6th, during his childhood years, from 1844 to 1853. His father’s bookstore, called the Librairie France, specialised in books and papers on the French Revolution and was frequented by many notable writers and scholars of the day.
LIST OF SHORT STORIES IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
JOCASTA
THE FAMISHED CAT
BALTHASAR
THE CURÉ’S MIGNONETTE
M. PIGEONNEAU
THE DAUGHTER OF LILITH
LAETA ACILIA
THE RED EGG
THE PROCURATOR OF JUDÆA
AMYCUS AND CELESTINE
THE LEGEND OF SAINTS OLIVERIA AND LIBERETTA
ST. EUPHROSINE
SCHOLASTICA
OUR LADY’S JUGGLER
THE MASS OF SHADOWS
LESLIE WOOD
GESTAS
THE MANUSCRIPT OF A VILLAGE DOCTOR
MEMOIRS OF A VOLUNTEER
DAWN
MADAME DE LUZY
THE BOON OF DEATH BESTOWED
A TALE OF THE MONTH OF FLORÉAL IN THE YEAR II
THE LITTLE LEADEN SOLDIER
PROLOGUE
SAN SATIRO
MESSER GUIDO CAVALCANTI
LUCIFER
THE LOAVES OF BLACK BREAD
THE MERRY-HEARTED BUFFALMACCO
THE LADY OF VERONA
THE HUMAN TRAGEDY
THE MYSTIC BLOOD
A SOUND SECURITY
HISTORY OF DOÑA MARIA D’AVALOS AND DON FABRICIO, DUKE D’ANDRIA
BONAPARTE AT SAN MINIATO
THE BARD OF KYME
KOMM OF THE ATREBATES
FARINATA DEGLI UBERTI; OR, CIVIL WAR
THE KING DRINKS
LA MUIRON
THE CHATEAU DE VAUX-LE-VICOMTE
CRAINQUEBILLE
PUTOIS
RIQUET
THE MEDITATIONS OF RIQUET
THE NECKTIE
THE MONTIL MANŒUVRES
ÉMILE
ADRIENNE BUQUET
THE INTAGLIO
LA SIGNORA CHIARA
UPRIGHT JUDGES
THE OCEAN CHRIST
JEAN MARTEAU
MONSIEUR THOMAS
A SERVANT’S THEFT
EDMÉE, OR CHARITY WELL BESTOWED
OLIVIER’S BRAG
THE MIRACLE OF THE MAGPIE
BROTHER JOCONDE
FIVE FAIR LADIES OF PICARDY, OF POITOU, OF TOURAINE, OF LYONS, AND OF PARIS
A GOOD LESSON WELL LEARNT
SATAN’S TONGUE-PIE
CONCERNING AN HORRIBLE PICTURE
MADEMOISELLE DE DOUCINE’S NEW YEAR’S PRESENT
MADEMOISELLE ROXANE
THE SEVEN WIVES OF BLUEBEARD
THE MIRACLE OF THE GREAT ST. NICOLAS
THE STORY OF THE DUCHESS OF CICOGNE AND OF MONSIEUR DE BOULINGRIN
THE SHIRT
FANCHON
THE FANCY-DRESS BALL
THE SCHOOL
MARIE
THE PANDEAN PIPES
ROGER’S STUD
COURAGE
CATHERINE’S “AT HOME”
LITTLE SEA-DOGS
GETTING WELL
ACROSS THE MEADOWS
THE MARCH PAST
DEAD LEAVES
SUZANNE
FISHING
THE PENALTIES OF GREATNESS
A CHILD’S DINNER PARTY
MARGUERITE
MARGUERITE
THE JUGGLER OF NOTRE DAME
LIST OF SHORT STORIES IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
JOCASTA
THE FAMISHED CAT
BALTHASAR
THE CURÉ’S MIGNONETTE
M. PIGEONNEAU
THE DAUGHTER OF LILITH
LAETA ACILIA
THE RED EGG
THE PROCURATOR OF JUDÆA
AMYCUS AND CELESTINE
THE LEGEND OF SAINTS OLIVERIA AND LIBERETTA
ST. EUPHROSINE
SCHOLASTICA
OUR LADY’S JUGGLER
THE MASS OF SHADOWS
LESLIE WOOD
GESTAS
THE MANUSCRIPT OF A VILLAGE DOCTOR
MEMOIRS OF A VOLUNTEER
DAWN
MADAME DE LUZY
THE BOON OF DEATH BESTOWED
A TALE OF THE MONTH OF FLORÉAL IN THE YEAR II
THE LITTLE LEADEN SOLDIER
PROLOGUE
SAN SATIRO
MESSER GUIDO CAVALCANTI
LUCIFER
THE LOAVES OF BLACK BREAD
THE MERRY-HEARTED BUFFALMACCO
THE LADY OF VERONA
THE HUMAN TRAGEDY
THE MYSTIC BLOOD
A SOUND SECURITY
HISTORY OF DOÑA MARIA D’AVALOS AND DON FABRICIO, DUKE D’ANDRIA
BONAPARTE AT SAN MINIATO
THE BARD OF KYME
KOMM OF THE ATREBATES
FARINATA DEGLI UBERTI; OR, CIVIL WAR
THE KING DRINKS
LA MUIRON
THE CHATEAU DE VAUX-LE-VICOMTE
CRAINQUEBILLE
PUTOIS
RIQUET
THE MEDITATIONS OF RIQUET
THE NECKTIE
THE MONTIL MANŒUVRES
ÉMILE
ADRIENNE BUQUET
THE INTAGLIO
LA SIGNORA CHIARA
UPRIGHT JUDGES
THE OCEAN CHRIST
JEAN MARTEAU
MONSIEUR THOMAS
A SERVANT’S THEFT
EDMÉE, OR CHARITY WELL BESTOWED
OLIVIER’S BRAG
THE MIRACLE OF THE MAGPIE
BROTHER JOCONDE
FIVE FAIR LADIES OF PICARDY, OF POITOU, OF TOURAINE, OF LYONS, AND OF PARIS
A GOOD LESSON WELL LEARNT
SATAN’S TONGUE-PIE
CONCERNING AN HORRIBLE PICTURE
MADEMOISELLE DE DOUCINE’S NEW YEAR’S PRESENT
MADEMOISELLE ROXANE
THE SEVEN WIVES OF BLUEBEARD
THE MIRACLE OF THE GREAT ST. NICOLAS
THE STORY OF THE DUCHESS OF CICOGNE AND OF MONSIEUR DE BOULINGRIN
THE SHIRT
FANCHON
THE FANCY-DRESS BALL
THE SCHOOL
MARIE
THE PANDEAN PIPES
ROGER’S STUD
COURAGE
CATHERINE’S “AT HOME”
LITTLE SEA-DOGS
GETTING WELL
ACROSS THE MEADOWS
THE MARCH PAST
DEAD LEAVES
SUZANNE
FISHING
THE PENALTIES OF GREATNESS
A CHILD’S DINNER PARTY
MARGUERITE
MARGUERITE
THE JUGGLER OF NOTRE DAME
The Plays
5 Villa Saïd, Paris — France’s home from 1894 until his death in 1924
CRAINQUEBILLE
A PLAY IN THREE ACTS
Translated by Wilfrid Jackson and Emilie Jackson
CONTENTS
CHARACTERS
ACT I.
SCENE I.
SCENE II.
SCENE III.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
SCENE II.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
SCENE II.
SCENE III.
To LUCIEN GUITRY
My dear Friend, I make no offering of t
his little play to you. It is yours already. It is yours, not only because you gave it the hospitality of your theatre and staged it marvellously, it with a picked caste; not merely because you yourself brought out the character of Crainquebille with astonishing power and masterly truth. It is yours because I should never have done it without your help, and because every scene that was received with favour was written entirely under your inspiration.
I inscribe your name on the front page of our Crainquebille in testimony of my friendship.
ANATOLE FRANCE
CHARACTERS
CRAINQUEBILLE Mm. GUITRY.
A CHESTNUT-VENDOR THE MAGISTRATE, “ FRANCES.
BOURRICHE “ NERTANN.
MAITRE LEMERLE “ ARQUILLIERE.
DOCTOR DAVID MATHIEU “ NOIZEUX.
AUBARREE “ FREDAL.
POLICE-CONSTABLE 64 “ TALRICK.
LERMITE “ LARMANDIE.
A STREET-HAWKER “ FAVART.
A GROCER “ LAFOREST.
POLICE-CONSTABLE 121 “ ADAM.
USHER “ THOULOUSE.
A WINE-MERCHANT “ LARRY.
A PORK-BUTCHER “ MALLET.
MADAME BAYARD Mmes. MARIE SAMARY.
MADAME LAURA “ IRMA PERROT.
THE MOUSE “ JULIETTE MARGEL.
A WORK-GIRL “ JANE BERYL.
A WORK-GIRL “ JEANNE SCHMITT.
ACT I.
Rue de Beaujolais.
SCENE I.
THE STREET-HAWKER.
(Dressed like a shopwalker at the Magasins du Louvre, and standing on a stool, a box as big as a small trunk in front of him on a trestle, from which he keeps extracting articles that he as quickly replaces, he is just finishing his patter to the audience that crowds round him. Each time he mentions his firm’s name he raises his tall hat.)
If the firm of Gameron, Cormandel & Co., which I have the honour to represent in this marketplace, has at length decided to make the enormous sacrifices which I have just enumerated to you, it is not for purely humanitarian motives, gentlemen; don’t you believe it. It is not the case, and I don’t mind telling you so, that the firm of Gameron, Cormandel & Co has undertaken to ruin the large shops or even the small tradesmen, as some malicious people would vainly make you believe, by disseminating broadcast slanders that we only have to look full in the face to see sink beneath the ground. No, gentlemen, the firm of Gameron, Cormandel &c Co has kept its eye on one thing, one thing alone. It is rather an important thing, and I will tell you about it presently. I count on your well-known forbearance, and merely ask a moment’s patience. I will profit by it to recapitulate: these six articles may be had by anyone who cares to ask for them; he only has to say the word — a movement, a gesture, a mere wave of the hand, and they are his. These six articles, briefly enumerated, are as follows: First, a pneumatic cane which may be folded up by a mere pressure of the fingers, thus forming an object of small dimensions that will easily slip into an ordinary pocket. This article, in untarnishable metal, has a sale value of three shillings. I don’t believe, gentlemen, you can accuse me of exaggeration. Think for one moment of the exorbitant price of labour nowadays. To continue: Secondly, a superb set of imitation shirt-studs. Three studs for the front, a pair of links for the cuffs, with detachable base, in burnished aluminium capable of resisting the action of fire for more than four hours.... Then the collar-stud, ornamented with a ravishingly beautiful blue stone, half a turquoise. I ask you all, gentlemen, and more particularly those who are in this line of business, Do you think a jeweller? — and I am not referring to a Boucheron or a Vevers. I talk as one...
SCENE II.
A BUTCHER’S BOY
(leaving the crowd, to the STREET-HAWKER).
You talk enough for two, guv’nor!
STREET-HAWKER (with a savage grin).
Just you wait a bit, my young fellow.... Just half a minute... I shall have finished in a tick, I then shall be able to attend to you....
THE BUTCHER’S BOY (making a sign).
Get up there, you will see Montmartre.
[He goes out.
SCENE III.
THE STREET-HAWKER (continuing).
You prefer to retire, young man; permission is given you. To continue: — Is it likely, as I was saying, that a small jeweller, satisfied with a ridiculously small profit, could actually make this article under one-and-six? No. You agree? Well, I reckon one shilling, so far. Thirdly, a box of marvellous soap, the “Ocean Soap,” of whose wonderful qualities I gave you a conspicuous demonstration a few moments ago; it removes the most obstinate stains, and makes any material look as good as new. Gentlemen, I will not exhaust your powers of appreciation, and without saying any more about it, I offer it to you at the ridiculous figure of twopence-halfpenny. Fourthly, a box in Norwegian fire-bronzed celluloid, containing fifty pastilles, a certain remedy for all bronchial affections. Worth? What is it worth? A penny halfpenny.... Could anything be cheaper? Yes, and I will tell you what. This is the climax. The two remaining articles, the skirt-fastener, napkin-holder, automatic binder-clip, and, finally, the watch-chain, or a lady’s necklace, very similar to gold.... The price? Nothing... chucked in. No shillings and no pence, which, added to the articles mentioned above, gives us a total of... (rapidly) Three shillings for the pneumatic cane, one for the imitation set, twopence halfpenny for the “Ocean Soap,” three-ha’pence for the health-giving pastilles; four shillings and four pence, which the firm of Gameron, Cormandel & Co., whom I have the honour to represent here, have authorized me to make you a present of. Yes, I say a present; for I’m not asking four shillings and fourpence, nor three, two, or even one shilling — not even of sixpence. I’m merely asking, gentlemen, the nonsensical, the ridiculous, the amazing, the positively absurd sum of... twopence the lot (they search their pockets), and if, on your return to your homes, as you sit round the table in the light of the lamp when the evening meal is smoking on the board... if, prompted by a feeling of curiosity, and a quite excusable curiosity, gentlemen, you ask yourselves what has led the firm of Gameron, Cormandel & Co to do this, stop right there in your investigations... give up trying to understand.... You will never succeed.... It is an advertisement!
[He gives the articles to everyone who holds out his twopence, and the buyers examine them as they leave the stage.
A TRADESMAN’S WIFE (speaking to a workman).
Is it any good, this stuff, for removing stains?
THE WORKMAN.
My good woman, I have been a cleaner and dyer for twenty-five years, haven’t I? If it was any good I should use it... it’s muck!
THE TRADESMAN’S WIFE.
Anyway, it isn’t dear at twopence, all this lot.
CRAINQUEBILLE.
Cabbages! Carrots! Turnips!
CHILDREN (returning from school).
What ho, old daddy Crainquebille!
CRAINQUEBILLE.
Be off to school with you! instead of picking up bad ways in the streets.... But what else can they learn in the gutter? Nothing but bad... Any sparrowgrass!
A WOMAN.
Show us your asparagus.
LA SOURIS.
You ain’t very bright. They’re leeks, they are. Leeks is the poor man’s ‘sparagus... Everyone knows that. (One of the little hoys pulls about the bundles of leeks on the barrow,) Just you leave that alone, he’s got his living to earn. If you earned your bread as I do... you parcel of brats, you...
CRAINQUEBILLE.
Do you earn your living?
LA SOURIS.
I have to.
A CHILD.
‘E ain’t anybody. He sleeps out-of-doors. He’s got no father or mother — they’ve left him.
CRAINQUEBILLE.
If ‘e ain’t got no parents, that’s their fault, not his.
A CHILD.
He has nothing to eat and he keeps a dog! Why don’t you eat your dog?
LA SOURIS.
Who said I slept out-of-doors? Who said so? Say it again, that’s all. I do
n’t sleep out-of-doors — there’s my bedroom window....
A CHILD.
Your window hasn’t got any glass in it. They are pulling down your house.
LA SOURIS.
At night I mind that shop they are repairing. That shows that I am honest. And, anyway, you leave me alone!
CRAINQUEBILLE.
What is your job?
LA SOURIS.
I pick up fags, sell papers, run errands. Anything you like.
CRAINQUEBILLE.
What’s your name?
LA SOURIS.
La Souris.
CRAINQUEBILLE.
You are called La Souris? Well, you have more sense than the rest of ‘em. You know more about life.
LA SOURIS.
Because I have known what it is to be hungry. They — they don’t know nothing. When you haven’t been down on your luck your eyes aren’t opened.
CRAINQUEBILLE.
You have known what it is to be without grub? LA SOURIS.
Rather, and I know it still. That sort of thing sticks.
CRAINQUEBILLE. —
Yes, you don’t look very grand. Here, take this pear, it’s a bit sleepy, but it’s a good ‘un — a William.
LA SOURIS.
It’s quite soft. If your wife’s heart is as tender! Thanks all the same, Crainquebille, old dad.
A LITTLE GIRL
(carrying a loaf bigger than herself asks in a sing-song voice:)
Are your cabbages good?
CRAINQUEBILLE.
Couldn’t be better. They are all heart.
THE LITTLE GIRL.
How much are they? Mother’s ill, and can’t do her shopping herself.
CRAINQUEBILLE.
What is the matter with your mother? What’s she got?
THE LITTLE GIRL.
I don’t know. It’s her inside.... She told me to buy a cabbage off you.
CRAINQUEBILLE.
Right ‘o, don’t be afraid, my little girl, I will serve you as well as if I’d been serving your mother. And better, for if I’d got to do anyone it would be a woman old enough to take care of herself. Oughtn’t to do anyone, of course... everyone ought to get his money’s worth. But if you couldn’t help it I’d rather do someone who was trying to do the same to me. As to doing the dirty on a cherub like you, I should be sorry, and that’s the truth. (He gives her a cabbage.) There, that’s the finest I have. It’s got a head like a Member of Parliament. (The little girl gives him fourpence-half penny.) Fivepence! Another halfpenny, please. You ain’t going to do me?
Complete Works of Anatole France Page 392