THOUGHTS AT TRENTON FALLS.Artthou still the same,Or have the lapsing ages stolen awayThy primal beauty, or but added more?Beautiful stream! did thy clear waters fallWith the same sound as now, in times remote,When first the sunlight shimmered on thy wave,Or ere the warbling of a forest birdHad echoed through these shades; or did'st thou runIn level quietness, till thy smooth bedWas broken up by the strong hand of Change?Or did the sinking Deluge leave thee here,To fill this broken gorge?R. S. C.New-York, Oct., 1843.
Artthou still the same,Or have the lapsing ages stolen awayThy primal beauty, or but added more?Beautiful stream! did thy clear waters fallWith the same sound as now, in times remote,When first the sunlight shimmered on thy wave,Or ere the warbling of a forest birdHad echoed through these shades; or did'st thou runIn level quietness, till thy smooth bedWas broken up by the strong hand of Change?Or did the sinking Deluge leave thee here,To fill this broken gorge?
R. S. C.
New-York, Oct., 1843.
THE MIDNIGHT DREAM.BY MRS. R. S. NICHOLS.I hada vision, love, last eve,That thrills my very heart with fear;I could not wish to see thee grieve,Or wring from manhood's eye a tear:But in this dream, I saw thee weepAs never man had wept before:I would not dream the like, if sleepMy wearied eyes ne'er shadowed o'er!Methought I saw thee, bending lowAbove a pale and shrouded form;A wreath of cold December's snowFlung out upon the freezing stormHath more of beauty, warmth, and life,Than this white piece of marbled earth!'How,' thought I, 'have the war and strifeOf passion initsheart had birth?'I saw thee raise the snowy shroudThat veiled the features from my view;I heard thee strangely weep aloud,Then slowly recognition grewWithin my soul;mybody layAll still and wan before me there,Robed for the tomb, while slow decayWas painted on the forehead bare!I saw thee press the icy brow,Whilst I revolted at the scene;That lifeless clay I hated now,But longed against thy heart to lean.But woe unto that gentle heart!Had it but deemed my spirit near,I felt that agony would startThe cold and deadly drops of fear.I thought if spirits thus were freedFrom dust which weighed their pinions down,Their destiny were bright indeed,If joy unmingled e'er was known.But I was chained unto thy side,While still this truth seemed strange to me,Though ever by thee I should glide,I was invisible to thee!I strove to lift the veil which hidesThe progress of immortal birth;The thin partition that dividesThe world of spirits from the earth;I longed to bear thy spirit upTo flash around the golden throne,But then, stern Death's embittered cupMust first be drained by every one!Yet still I hovered by thy side;My wings thy very garments brushed,Whilst thou but knew I lived and died,All else within the tomb was hushed.With dreams of earth a sense was blentOf some neglect of duty there,And oh! I thought my punishmentWas greater far than I could bear!How oft I heard thee breathe my nameIn tearful accents, sad and low,Then suddenly thy voice exclaim,'A ministering angel thou!'Still swaying thus from sphere to sphere,My spirit knew nor peace nor rest,Till daylight broke that vision drear,And saw me weeping on thy breast!Cincinnati, 1813.
I hada vision, love, last eve,That thrills my very heart with fear;I could not wish to see thee grieve,Or wring from manhood's eye a tear:But in this dream, I saw thee weepAs never man had wept before:I would not dream the like, if sleepMy wearied eyes ne'er shadowed o'er!Methought I saw thee, bending lowAbove a pale and shrouded form;A wreath of cold December's snowFlung out upon the freezing stormHath more of beauty, warmth, and life,Than this white piece of marbled earth!'How,' thought I, 'have the war and strifeOf passion initsheart had birth?'I saw thee raise the snowy shroudThat veiled the features from my view;I heard thee strangely weep aloud,Then slowly recognition grewWithin my soul;mybody layAll still and wan before me there,Robed for the tomb, while slow decayWas painted on the forehead bare!I saw thee press the icy brow,Whilst I revolted at the scene;That lifeless clay I hated now,But longed against thy heart to lean.But woe unto that gentle heart!Had it but deemed my spirit near,I felt that agony would startThe cold and deadly drops of fear.I thought if spirits thus were freedFrom dust which weighed their pinions down,Their destiny were bright indeed,If joy unmingled e'er was known.But I was chained unto thy side,While still this truth seemed strange to me,Though ever by thee I should glide,I was invisible to thee!I strove to lift the veil which hidesThe progress of immortal birth;The thin partition that dividesThe world of spirits from the earth;I longed to bear thy spirit upTo flash around the golden throne,But then, stern Death's embittered cupMust first be drained by every one!Yet still I hovered by thy side;My wings thy very garments brushed,Whilst thou but knew I lived and died,All else within the tomb was hushed.With dreams of earth a sense was blentOf some neglect of duty there,And oh! I thought my punishmentWas greater far than I could bear!How oft I heard thee breathe my nameIn tearful accents, sad and low,Then suddenly thy voice exclaim,'A ministering angel thou!'Still swaying thus from sphere to sphere,My spirit knew nor peace nor rest,Till daylight broke that vision drear,And saw me weeping on thy breast!Cincinnati, 1813.
THE VENUS OF ILLE.RENDERED FROM THE FRENCH OF P. MERIMEE BY THE TRANSLATOR OF 'THE GALLEY SLAVE.'BY JOHN HUNTER.Aftera long day's journey, I descended the last of the Canigou mountains, and although it was now past sunset, I distinguished in the plain beneath me the houses of the little village of Ille, toward which I was now directing my course.'You know,' said I to the Catalonian who acted as my guide, 'you know, I dare say, where Monsieur Peyrade lives?''Do I know?' exclaimed he, 'I know his house as well as I do my own; and if it was not so dark, I could point it out to you now. It is the handsomest in Ille. Ah! he has got the money, Monsieur Peyrade has; and he is going to marry his son to one richer than himself.''Indeed! and will this marriage take place soon?' asked I.'Soon! I'll be sworn the fiddles are already engaged for the wedding. It may be to-night, to-morrow, or the day after, for aught that I know. It will take place at Puygarey, for it is Mam'selle de Puygarey, whom young master is going to marry. Ah! there will be fine doings, I can tell you!'I had a letter of introduction to Monsieur Peyrade from my friend Monsieur de P——. 'This gentleman,' said he to me, 'is a very learned antiquary, extremely hospitable, and will take great pleasure in showing you all the ruins and relics of art for a dozen leagues around.' I had consequently counted upon him, to visit with me the environs of Ille, which I knew to be rich in ancient monuments, as well as those of the middle ages. This wedding, therefore, of which I now heard for the first time, seemed likely to interfere with my plans.'I shall be an intruder,' said I to myself; 'but as my visit has been already announced by Monsieur de P——, it will be necessary for me to present myself.''Monsieur,' said my guide to me, as we reached the plain, 'I will wager a cigar I can guess what you are going to do at Monsieur Peyrade's.''Indeed,' said I, handing him a cigar, 'that will not be so very difficult to guess. At this time of night, when one has travelled six leagues in the Canigou mountains, the principal business I think will be supper.''Oh yes, but I mean to-morrow. Come now, I will bet that you have come to Ille to see the idol. I guessed as much when I saw you drawing the likenesses of the saints of Serrabona.''The idol! what idol?' the word had excited my curiosity.'How! have you not heard at Perpignan, that Monsieur Peyrade has found an idol buried in the ground?''You mean a statue of terra-cotta, or clay?''No, no, of copper, real copper, and there is enough of it to make heaps of sous. She will weigh as much as the big bell of a church. We found her buried deep in the ground, at the foot of an olive tree.''You were then present at the discovery?''Yes Sir; Monsieur Peyrade told us—that is Jean Coll and me, about a fortnight ago—to root up an old olive tree, which had been frozen last year, for the weather you know was very cold. So you see as we were at work, Jean Coll, who went at it with all his might, gave a blow with his pickaxe, and I heard abimm, as if he had struck on a bell. What's that? said I. We dug away, and dug away, and presently saw a black hand, which looked like the hand of a dead man, stretching forth from the earth. I was frightened, and ran to Monsieur: 'There are dead men, master,' said I, 'under the olive tree! We had better send for the priest!' 'What, are you talking about dead men?' said he. He comes to the place, and no sooner sees the hand than he begins to cry out like mad, 'An antique! an antique!' You would have thought he had found a treasure. And so to work he goes with pickaxe and hands, and with such a hearty will that he did as much as Jean and I together.''And at last what did you find?''A large black woman, more than half naked, saving your presence, Sir, all of copper; and Monsieur Peyrade told us that it was an idol of the heathenish times—of the time of Charlemagne, may be!''Ah! I see what it is; some good virgin in bronze from a ruined convent.''A good virgin! ah! yes indeed. I should have known it soon enough, had it been a blessed virgin. No, no; it is an idol, I tell you; you can see that well enough by its looks. It stares upon you with its great white eyes. They say it will stare you out of countenance. One is forced to cast down his eyes when he looks at it.''White eyes? no doubt they are inserted in the bronze; this must be some Roman statue.''Roman! that's it; Monsieur Peyrade said it was a Roman. Ah! I see you are a learned man; just such another as he.''Is it in good preservation? perfect?''Oh yes, Sir, nothing is wanting. It is handsomer, and better made than the bust of Louis Philippe of painted plaster, which stands in the town-hall. But for all this, the face of this idol does not please me. She has got a wicked look; and in fact, she is so.''Wicked? why what trick has she played you?''Not exactly on me; but you shall hear. Four of us went to work to set her upright; and Monsieur Peyrade, he too must pull at a rope, although, worthy man! he hasn't much more strength than a chicken. With a good deal of trouble we at last got her straight up. I took a piece of tile to keep her steady, whenpatratas! down she comes headlong, all in a heap. I sung out: 'Take care below!' but not quick enough, however, for Jean Coll hadn't time to pull out his leg.''And was he injured?''Broken smack off was his poor leg, as if it had been a bean-pole. Sacristi! when I saw that, I was furious. I wanted to break the idol to pieces with my pickaxe, but Monsieur Peyrade wouldn't let me. He gave some money to Jean Coll, who is still in his bed, though it is a fortnight since this happened; and the doctor says he will never walk as well on this leg as on the other. 'Tis a great pity, for he was our best runner, and, next to young master, the best tennis-player in the country. Monsieur Alphonse Peyrade takes it very much to heart, for he always played with Coll. Oh! it was a beautiful sight to see them send the balls up!Paff—paff—they never touched the ground.'Conversing in this manner, we entered Ille, and I soon found myself in the presence of Monsieur Peyrade. He was a little old man, still ruddy and active, with powdered hair, a red nose, and a gay and jovial air. Before opening the letter of Monsieur de P——, he installed me at a well-spread table, and introduced me to his wife and son, as an eminent archeologist who was going to draw forth Roussillon from the state of oblivion in which the indifference of the savans had so long left it.While eating with that fine appetite which the keen mountain air imparts, I studied the appearance of my hosts. I have already spoken of Monsieur Peyrade; I may add that he was vivacity itself. He chattered, ate, jumped up, ran to the library, brought me books, showed me prints, poured out wine for me; in short, he was not a moment in repose. His wife, who, as most of the Catalonian women are after the age of forty, was rather fat, and seemed to be a substantial country dame, wholly taken up with the affairs of her household. Although the supper was sufficient for at least six persons, she ran to the kitchen, ordered pigeons to be killed, had fritters made, and opened I know not how many pots of sweet-meats. In a few moments the table was loaded with dishes andbottles, and had I only tasted all that was offered me, I should certainly have died of indigestion. Still, at every dish which I declined, there were fresh apologies. They were 'afraid I did not find things to my liking at Ille. They had so few resources in the country, and Parisians were so hard to please!'During all this bustle and turmoil, and running to and fro of his progenitors, Monsieur Alphonse Peyrade remained motionless as a post. He was a tall young man, of about six-and-twenty, with handsome, regular features, but totally devoid of expression. His figure and athletic appearance accorded well with the reputation he bore throughout the country, of being a first rate tennis-player. He was dressed this evening in an elegant manner, his clothes being made to resemble exactly the engravings of the last number of the Journal of Fashion. But he did not seem to be at ease in his dress. He was as stiff as a pike-staff in his velvet collar, and when he turned his head, it was only by a movement of his whole body. His large sun-burnt hands with their short nails contrasted strangely with his costly coat; they were the hands of a laborer issuing from the sleeves of a dandy.Although he examined me from head to foot, with great curiosity, which my character as a Parisian had probably excited, he addressed to me but a single question during the whole evening; which was to ask, where I had bought my watch-chain.'And now, my dear guest,' said Monsieur Peyrade to me, as supper drew to a close, 'you are in my house, and are my property; and I shall not let you go until you have seen all the curiosities of our mountains. You must take some pains to get acquainted with our Roussillon, so as to do her full justice. You must have no doubts about the things we are going to show you. There are Phenician, Celtic, Roman, Arabic, Bysantian monuments; you shall see them all, from the cedar to the hyssop. I will take you every where, and not a brick shall escape you.'A fit of coughing here forced the old gentleman to pause; taking advantage of which, I began to express to him my regret at intruding upon his family circle at such an interesting period.'If you will only give me your excellent advice,' said I, 'touching the excursions I propose making, I will not put you to the trouble of accompanying me.''Ah!' said he, interrupting me, 'you mean the marriage of that boy there. This is but a trifle; it will take place the day after to-morrow. You must be present at the wedding with us, in a quiet family way; for the intended bride is in mourning for an aunt, whose property she inherits. So we are to have no merry-making, no ball. This is a great pity. You ought to see our Catalonian girls dance. They are buxom lasses, and perhaps some of them might induce you to follow the example of my Alphonse. One marriage, they say, leads to others. On Saturday, the young folks wedded, I shall be at liberty, and then we will commence our rambles. But I beg pardon for wearying you with this country wedding; you a Parisian, tired of city gayeties and festivities: anda wedding without even a ball! However, you will see a bride; and such a bride! you must tell me what you think of her. But you are so grave and sedate a man, that perhaps you do not look at the women. But I have something better than this to show you; I will let you see something to-morrow! A grand surprise will you have, I promise you.''Indeed,' said I, 'but it is a difficult matter to have a treasure in one's house, without people being aware of it. I suspect I can guess what it is you have in store for me. If it is your statue to which you allude, the description my guide gave me of it has only served to excite my curiosity, and prepared me to admire it.''Ah! you have then heard about the idol, as they call my beautiful Venus Tur—— But I must say no more at present. To-morrow in broad daylight you shall see her, and you will then say whether I have not reason to be proud of such a master-piece. Parbleu! you could not have arrived more opportunely. There are inscriptions upon it, which I, poor ignoramus, explain after my own fashion; but a savant from Paris! You will perhaps laugh at my explanations: for you must know that I have drawn up a paper on the subject. Yes, even I, old country antiquary as I am, have launched into it. I shall make the press groan. If you, now, would read and correct my memoir for me, I should have some hopes. For instance, I am very curious to know how you would translate this inscription on the pedestal?Cave—— But I must not ask any thing of you now. To-morrow! to-morrow! Not a word of the Venus to-night.''You will do well, Peyrade,' said his wife, 'to leave your idol alone for the present. You must see that you are preventing Monsieur from eating his supper. Besides, Monsieur has seen at Paris a great many handsomer statues than thine. At the Tuilleries there are dozens of them, and all of bronze too.''Here is ignorance for you! the blessed ignorance of the province!' interrupted Monsieur Peyrade. 'To compare an admirable antique with the foolish images of Costou! 'With what irreverence do my household speak of the gods!' Do you know that my wife wishes me to melt my statue, and run it into a bell for the church! The good dame would like to stand godmother to it. A master-piece of Myron, Sir.''Master-piece! master-piece! a pretty master-piece she has made of it! To break a man's leg!''Look you here, my wife,' said Monsieur Peyrade, in a resolute tone, and stretching toward her his right leg encased in silken hose, 'if my Venus had broken this leg, I should not have grieved for it.''Good heavens! Peyrade, how can you talk so? Luckily the man is doing well; but still I cannot take pleasure in looking at a statue, which causes such misfortunes. Poor Jean Coll!''Wounded by Venus, Sir,' said Monsieur Peyrade, bursting into a loud laugh, 'wounded by Venus; the rogue may well complain: 'Veneris, nec prœmia noris;' who has not been wounded by Venus?'Monsieur Alphonse, who understood French better than Latin, gave a knowing wink, and looked toward me, as much as to say: 'Do you understand that, Parisian?'The supper at length was finished. I had not been able to eat a mouthful for the last hour. I was extremely fatigued, and could not conceal the frequent yawns which escaped me. Madame Peyrade was the first to perceive them, and observed that it was time to go to bed. Then commenced new apologies for the poor night's lodging I would have. It would not be as at Paris. In the provinces one is so badly provided, I must make allowances for the Roussillon fare. In vain I protested that after a long journey in the mountains a bundle of straw would be a delightful bed; they persisted in begging me to pardon poor country folks, if they did not treat me as well as they wished. At length I ascended to the chamber allotted me, accompanied by Monsieur Peyrade. The staircase, the upper steps of which were of wood, terminated in the middle of a corridor, upon which a number of apartments opened.'On the right,' said my host to me, 'is the room I have appropriated to Madame Alphonse, that is to be. Your chamber is at the opposite end of the corridor. You know,' added he, with an air which was meant to be facetious, 'you know we must keep the new married couple by themselves. You are at one end of the house, and they are at the other.'We entered a well-furnished apartment, where the first object which met my eye was a bed about seven feet long, six wide, and so high that it would require a step-ladder to clamber into it. My host having pointed out to me the bell-rope, and satisfied himself that the sugar-basin was replenished, and the bottles of Cologne water, and other appendages of the toilet, duly placed upon the table, and having asked me twenty times over if I wished for any thing more, at length bade me good night and left me alone.The windows were closed. Before undressing, I opened one, that I might enjoy the cool night air, so delicious after a long supper. Opposite me was the Canigou, at all times striking in appearance, and now illuminated by the beams of a brilliant moon, seeming the most beautiful mountain in the world. I stood for some time gazing upon its picturesque outlines, and was about closing the window, when casting my eyes down, I perceived the statue upon a pedestal, some twenty toises from the house. It was placed at the corner of a quickset hedge, which separated a small garden from a large square perfectly level, which I afterward learned was the tennis-ground of the village. This piece of land, the property of Monsieur Peyrade, had been thrown open to the public by him, at the urgent solicitation of his son. At the distance at which I stood, it was difficult to distinguish the attitude of the statue. I could only judge of its height, which seemed about six feet. Just at this moment, two idlers of the village passed across the play-ground, pretty near the hedge, whistling the pretty air of Roussillonmontagnes regalades. They stopped to look at the statue, and one of them apostrophizedit aloud. He spoke the Catalonian dialect, but I had been long enough in Roussillon to comprehend nearly all he said.'Ah! there you are, you slut! (the Catalonian epithet was more energetic) there you are!' said he. 'It was you, then, that broke Jean Coll's leg? If you belonged to me I would break your cursed neck!''Bah!' said the other, 'with what? She is made of copper, and so hard that Stephen broke his file trying to make a notch in her. It is copper of the time of the heathens, and harder than any thing I know.''If I had my good chisel here, (it seems he was a locksmith's apprentice,) I would soon have out those big white eyes, as I would take an almond from the shell. There's enough silver there to make an hundred sous.'They proceeded a few paces. 'I must bid the idol good night,' said the larger of the two apprentices, suddenly stopping.He stooped down and probably picked up a stone. I could see him stretch out his arm, throw something, and immediately a ringing sound was heard from the bronze. At the same instant, the apprentice put his hand to his head, uttering a cry of pain.'She has flung it back at me!' cried he; and the two vagabonds took to flight, as fast as their legs could carry them. It was evident that the stone had rebounded from the metal, and punished the wag for the insult he had offered the goddess.I closed the window, laughing heartily. 'Here is another Vandal punished by Venus! May all the destroyers of our ancient monuments have their heads broken in the same manner!' With this charitable wish I fell asleep.When I awoke it was broad day. Near my bed stood on one side Monsieur Peyrade in his morning gown, and on the other a domestic sent by his wife, with a cup of chocolate.'Come, get up, get up, Parisian! Why, what lazy fellows you of the capital are!' said my host, as I hurried on my clothes. 'This is the third time I have been up here. I approached your door on tiptoe: nobody stirring; not a sign of life. It is bad for the health to sleep too much at your age. And there is my Venus, which you have not seen yet. Come, swallow this cup of chocolate from Barcelona; real contraband. You can't get the like of it at Paris. You will need all your strength, I can tell you; for when you once get before my Venus you will not so easily be drawn away from her.'In five minutes I was ready; that is to say, half shaven, scarcely buttoned, and with throat scalded by the chocolate, which I had swallowed boiling hot. I descended into the garden, and found myself before an admirable statue.It was, in truth, a Venus, and of a marvellous beauty. She was above the common stature, as the ancients usually represented their principal divinities. The right hand raised to the level of the breast, was turned with the palm inward, the thumb and two first fingers outstretched, the two others slightly bent. The other hand placed near the hip, sustained the drapery which covered the lower part ofthe body. The attitude of this statue reminded me of that of the thrower of the discus, which is designated, I know not why, as Germanicus. Possibly the artist wished to represent the goddess playing at that game.However this might be, it was impossible to conceive any thing more perfect than the figure of this Venus; nothing more soft or more voluptuous than its outlines; nothing more noble or elegant than the drapery. I had expected some production of the middle ages; I saw a master-piece of the best period of statuary. What chiefly struck me was the exquisite truth of its form, so that one might have supposed it modelled from nature, did nature ever produce perfect models.The hair, turned back from the forehead, appeared to have been formerly gilded. The head, small like those of almost all the Greek statues, was slightly inclined forward. As to the face, I despair of being able to express its strange character, the type of which did not at all resemble that of any ancient statue I remembered. It was not that calm and severe beauty of the Greek sculptors, which imparts by design to all the features a majestic repose. Here, on the contrary, I observed with surprise the evident intention of the artist to express in the countenance malice almost bordering on malignity. All the features were slightly contracted; the eyes a little oblique, the corners of the mouth drawn up, and the nostrils somewhat dilated. Disdain, irony, cruelty, might be read in the countenance, which was still of incredible beauty. Indeed, the more one looked at this admirable statue, the more one experienced a sense of pain that such marvellous beauty should be allied with the absence of all sensibility.'If her model ever existed,' said I to Monsieur Peyrade, 'and I doubt if heaven ever produced such a woman, how I should pity her lovers! She would have taken pleasure in making them die of despair. There is something ferocious in her expression, and yet I have never seen any thing more beautiful.''C'est Venus tout entière à sa proie attachée!' exclaimed Monsieur Peyrade, satisfied with my enthusiasm.This expression of infernal irony was perhaps increased by the contrast of the silver eyes, which were very brilliant, with the hue of blackish green which time had given to the whole statue. These lustrous eyes produced a certain illusion which almost gave the effect of the reality of life. I recollected what my guide told me, that she made those who looked at her cast down their eyes. This was in fact almost true; and I could not help feeling vexed at finding myself not quite at my ease before this visage of bronze.'Now that you have admired every thing in detail, my dear colleague in antiquarian lore,' said my host to me, 'let us have, if you please, a little scientific conference. What say you to this inscription, which you have not yet noticed?'He pointed to the pedestal of the statue, where I read these words:CAVE AMANTEM.'What do you say to that, most learned?' demanded he, rubbing his hands. 'Let us see if we can agree upon the meaning of thiscave amantem.''But,' said I, 'there are two senses in which it may be understood. It may be translated 'Beware of him who loves you; do not trust lovers.' But in this sense I hardly know whethercave amantemwould be good Latin. On looking at the diabolical expression of the lady, I should rather think the artist wished to put the spectator on his guard against this terrible beauty. I would therefore prefer translating it: 'Take care of yourself, if she loves you.'''Humph!' said Monsieur Peyrade; 'to be sure that meaning is admissible; but with due deference I prefer the first translation, which however I will develop a little. You remember the lover of Venus?''She had a great many.''True, but the first one was Vulcan. Now does not this mean to say: 'In spite of all your beauty, and your proud and disdainful looks, you shall have a blacksmith, a miserable lame wretch for a lover.' A profound lesson, Sir, for coquettes!'I could scarcely repress a smile at this far-fetched explanation.'This Latin is a terrible language with its conciseness,' observed I, not wishing to contradict more directly the good antiquary; and I stepped back a few paces, that I might have a better view of the statue.'One moment, colleague!' said Monsieur Peyrade, seizing my arm; 'you have not yet seen all. There is another inscription. Get upon the pedestal, and look at the right arm.'So saying, he assisted me in climbing up. I put my arm without much ceremony around the neck of the Venus, with whom I began to be on familiar terms. I gazed at her a moment face to face, and found her on a close survey to be still more wicked-looking, and still more beautiful. I then noticed some small characters, apparently of an ancient date, engraven upon the arm. With some difficulty, and by the aid of a magnifying-glass, I spelled as follows; Monsieur Peyrade repeating after me each word as I pronounced it, with strong emphasis and gesticulation:VENERI TVRBVL * * * *EVTYCHES MYROIMPERIO FECITAfter the wordTVRBVLof the first line, there appeared to be some letters effaced; butTVRBVLwas perfectly legible.'And what does that mean?' asked my host, chuckling, and smiling maliciously; for he rightly thought that I would not be able to make out thisTVRBVL.'There is one word here that I cannot yet explain,' said I; 'all the rest is easy enough. Eutyches Myron has made this offering to Venus, by her command.''Very well. ButTVRBVL; what do you make of that? What doesTVRBVLmean?''Why,TVRBVLpuzzles me a good deal; I am trying to recollect some of the appellations of Venus to aid me. Let me see; what do you say toTVRBVLENTA? Venus who troubles, who disturbs? You see I am constantly impressed with her wicked expression.Tvrbvlenta; this is not a bad epithet for Venus;' added I, with an air of deference, for I was not myself very well satisfied with this explanation.'The turbulent Venus! Venus the virago! Ah! you think then that my Venus is a Venus of the ale-houses. By no means, Sir; she is a Venus of good society. But I am going to explain to you thisTVRBVL. You must, however, promise not to divulge my discovery before my memoir is published; because you must know that I take some little credit to myself for this investigation. It is but fair that you gentlemen savans of Paris, who are so rich in the spoils of antiquity, should leave a few ears to be gleaned by us poor devils of the provinces.'From the top of the pedestal, on which I still remained perched, I solemnly promised him that I would never be so base as to steal his discovery.'ForTVRBVL. . . ., Sir,' said he, coming close to me, and lowering his voice for fear any one else should hear him, 'readTVRBVLNERÆ.'I was not a whit wiser than before.'Listen to me,' continued he; 'about a league from hence, at the foot of a mountain, there is a village called Boulternére. This is a corruption of the Latin wordTVRBVLNERA. Nothing is more common than these inversions. Boulternére, Sir, was a Roman city. I have always had my suspicions of this, but never had the proof. Now, Sir, there is the proof. This Venus was the local divinity of the city of Boulternére. And this word Boulternére, which I am going to show is of ancient origin, proves a still more curious fact, which is that Boulternére, before it was a Roman city, was a Phenician town!'He stopped a moment to take breath, and enjoy my surprise. I could scarcely repress a strong inclination to laugh.'In fact,' continued he, 'TVRBVLNERAis pure Phenician.Tvr, pronounceTOUR;TOURandSOUR, the same word, is it not?Souris the Phenician name of Tyre; I need not recall to you its meaning.Bvl, this is Baal, Bal, Bel, Bul, with slight differences of pronunciation. As toNERA, this has given me some little trouble. I am strongly inclined to believe, in default of finding a Phenician word, that this comes from the Greeknerós, humid, marshy. This, it is true, would make it a hybrid word. To justifynerós, however, I will show you at Boulternére how the streams from the mountain form stagnant pools there. On the other hand, the terminationNERAmight have been added at a much later date, in honor of Nera Pivesuvia, the wife of Tetricus, who probably had conferred some benefit upon the city of Turbul. But, in consequence of the marshes, I prefer the etymology ofnerós.'My worthy friend here took a pinch of snuff, with an air of great satisfaction.'But let us leave the Phenicians, and return to our inscription. I translate it then: 'To Venus of Boulternére, Myron, by her command, dedicates this statue, his work.'I took good care not to criticise my learned friend's etymology, but wishing to give in my turn a proof of penetration: 'Hold there, Sir!' said I; 'allowing that Myron has dedicated something, it does not follow that it is this statue.''How!' cried he, 'was not Myron a famous Greek? Talent would be perpetuated in his family; and it was one of his descendants who made this statue. Nothing can be more certain.''But,' replied I, 'I see upon the arm a small hole; this, I think, has served to support something; a bracelet, for instance, which this Myron has given to Venus as an expiatory offering. Myron was some unfortunate lover with whom Venus was angry, and he endeavored to appease her by the offering of a golden bracelet. You must remember thatfecit, made, is often used forconsecravit, dedicated. They are, indeed, synonymous words; and I could give you more than one example, had I Gruter, or rather Orelius at hand. Nothing is more natural than that a lover should see Venus in a dream, and imagine that she commanded him to give a golden bracelet to her statue. Myron dedicated a bracelet to her. Afterward the barbarians, or perhaps some sacrilegious robber'——'Ah! ha! one may easily see that you have written romances;' cried my host, giving me his hand to assist me in descending. 'No, no; Sir, it is a production of the school of Myron. Only look at the workmanship, and you must be convinced of it.'As I make it a rule never to contradict an obstinate antiquary, I bowed with an air of conviction, and merely observed: 'It is indeed an admirable piece of work.''Ah! mon Dieu!' cried Monsieur Peyrade, 'here is another piece of Vandalism! Somebody has thrown a stone at my statue!'He had just perceived a white mark a little below the bosom of the Venus. I had noticed a similar appearance upon the fingers of the right hand, which I supposed had been grazed by the stone thrown at her the preceding evening, or more probably a fragment had been detached by the concussion, and had glanced off from the hand. I related to my host the insult of which I had been the witness, and the prompt punishment which followed. He laughed heartily, and comparing the apprentice to Diomede, wished that, like the Greek hero, he might see all his companions changed into white birds.The breakfast bell here interrupted our classic conference; and, as on the previous evening, I was again compelled to eat the share of four. Then came the farmers of Monsieur Peyrade; and while he gave them audience, his son took me to see a new carriage which he had lately bought at Toulouse for his intended bride. I admired it in silence, and then accompanied him to the stables, where he kept me half an hour, boasting of his horses, relating their pedigree, and telling me how many prizes they had won at the neighboringraces. At length, by a transition from a gray palfrey which he intended for her use, he was led to speak of his future wife.'We shall see her to-day,' said he. 'I don't know whether you will think her pretty or not. You Parisians are hard to please; but every body here and at Perpignan think her beautiful. But the best of it is, she is deuced rich. Her old aunt at Prades, who died the other day, left her all her money; and no trifle either. Don't you think I am a lucky dog?'I was grieved to see the young man so much more affected by the dower than by the amiable qualities of his future wife.'Are you a judge of jewels?' continued Monsieur Alphonse, holding up his brawny hand; 'how do you like this? Here is the ring I am going to give her to-morrow.'So saying, he drew from the first joint of his little finger a large ring set with diamonds, in the form of two hands clasped together; a pretty allusion, which seemed quite poetical. The workmanship was very ancient, but appeared to have been lately retouched, to let in the diamonds. On the inner side of the ring were these words in Gothic characters: 'Sempr' al te,' that is, 'Always with thee.''It is a very beautiful ring,' said I; 'but these diamonds which have been added seem to have destroyed its character a little.''Oh! it is much handsomer as it is,' replied he, smiling. 'There is twelve hundred francs' worth of diamonds there. My mother gave it to me. It was a family ring; very ancient, of the time of chivalry. She got it from my grandmother, who had it from her's. The Lord knows when it was made.''It is the custom in Paris, on these occasions,' said I, 'to give a ring that is entirely plain, usually composed of two different metals, such as gold and platinum. Look, the other ring, which you have on this finger, would be more appropriate. This one with the diamonds, and the hands in relief, is so large that a glove cannot be worn over it.''Oh! Madame Alphonse must manage that as she pleases. I think she will be very well content to have it as it is. Twelve hundred francs on one's finger is not so bad. This little ring here,' added he, regarding the plain ring on his left hand with an air of complacency, 'was given me by a lady at Paris one Shrove-Tuesday. Ah!' added he, with a sigh of regret, 'what fine times I had in Paris two years ago! That's the place for sport.'As we were to dine this day at Puygarey, with the relatives of the future bride, we proceeded in a carriage to the chateau, which was about a league and a half distant from Ille. I was introduced and welcomed as a friend of the family. I shall not speak of the dinner, nor of the conversation which ensued, in which I took but little part.Mademoiselle de Puygarey was about eighteen years of age; and her slender and delicate figure formed a strong contrast with the coarse and robust frame of her affianced. She was not merely beautiful, but winning and attractive. I admired the perfect simplicity of all her movements, and the ingenuousness of her replies;and the general expression of her countenance, which was not exempt from a slight tinge of malice, reminded me, in spite of myself, of the Venus of my host. In the inward comparison I made between them, I asked myself whether the superiority of beauty, which must clearly be conceded to the statue, did not in some degree depend upon her fierce and tiger-like expression; for energy, even in bad passions, always excites, mingled with astonishment, a sort of involuntary admiration.'What a pity,' said I to myself on leaving Puygarey, 'that the wealth of so lovely a person should have rendered her the object of attraction to a man totally unworthy of her!'On our return to Ille, not exactly knowing what to say to Madame Peyrade, to whom I thought it but civil occasionally to address a word: 'You are sensible people at Roussillon,' said I; 'how happens it that you are going to have a wedding on a Friday? At Paris we should be more superstitious; nobody would dare to marry on that day.''Oh! good Lord! don't speak of it,' said she; 'if it had depended upon me, you may be sure I should have chosen another day. But Peyrade would have it so; and we had to give up to him. It troubles me, however, a good deal. Suppose some misfortune should happen? There must be some truth in the superstition, since every body has a dread of Friday.''Friday!' exclaimed her husband, in a gay tone; 'it is the day of Venus! An excellent day for a wedding! You see, my dear colleague, I can think of nothing but my Venus. To tell the truth, it is on her account that I have pitched upon Friday. To-morrow, if you please, before the ceremony, we will make a little sacrifice to her; two ring-doves as an offering, and if I knew where to get a little incense'——'Fie upon you, Peyrade!' interrupted his wife, highly scandalized at this proposition. 'Offer incense to an idol! It would be an abomination! Why, what will all the country say of it?''At least,' said Monsieur Peyrade, 'you will permit me to place upon her head a crown of roses and lilies:'Manibus date lilia plenis.'You see, Sir,' added he, turning to me, 'the charter is but an empty name. We have not the freedom of worship!'The arrangements for the next day were made as follows: Every one was to be ready, in full dress, at ten o'clock precisely. After taking chocolate, we were to go in carriages to Puygarey, where the civil marriage was to be performed before the mayor of the village, and the religious ceremony in the chapel of the chateau. Then there was to be a breakfast; after which each one was to pass the time as he pleased until seven o'clock, when the two families were to return to Ille to sup together at the house of Monsieur Peyrade. The rest would follow as a matter of course. Not being able to have a dance, it was determined there should be as much eating and drinking as possible.Since eight o'clock I had been sitting before the Venus, withcrayon in hand, recommencing for the twentieth time the head of the statue, without being able to catch the expression. Monsieur Peyrade was bustling about, giving me advice, and repeating his Phenician etymologies; he then placed a garland of Bengal roses upon the pedestal of the statue, and in a tragi-comic tone addressed prayers to it for the young couple who were about to take up their abode under his roof. About nine o'clock, he reëntered the house to make his toilet, and immediately afterward Monsieur Alphonse made his appearance, squeezed into a new coat of the latest pattern, with white gloves, well polished shoes, embossed buttons, and a rose at his button-hole.'You must take the likeness of my wife!' said he, leaning over my drawing; 'she is very pretty.'At this moment a game of tennis commenced upon the playground, of which I have already spoken, which immediately attracted the attention of Monsieur Alphonse. As for myself, wearied with my task, and despairing of catching the diabolical expression of the countenance, I presently gave up my drawing to look at the players. There were among them some Spanish muleteers, who had arrived at Ille the evening before. They were from Arragon and Navarre, and most of them of great skill and dexterity; so that the Illians, although encouraged by the presence and counsel of Monsieur Alphonse, were soon beaten by these new champions. The national spectators were in consternation. Monsieur Alphonse looked at his watch; it was but half past nine; his mother had not yet completed her toilet; he hesitated no longer; threw off his coat, called for a jacket, and challenged the Spaniards.Not a little surprised, I looked at him with a smile.'We must sustain the honor of the country,' said he. I now noticed that he was in reality a handsome man. He was excited; and his dress, which occupied so much of his attention at other times, was nothing to him now. A few moments before he would scarcely have turned his head for fear of discomposing his cravat; now he thought no longer of his curled locks, or of his ruffles so neatly plaited. And his bride! in sooth, had it been necessary, I believe he would have postponed the marriage, sooner than have declined the game. I saw him put on in haste a pair of slippers, turn up his sleeves, and with an air of confidence place himself at the head of the conquered party, like Cæsar rallying his soldiers at Dyrrachium. I leaped the hedge, and seated myself comfortably in the shade of a linden tree, that I might see the game to advantage.Contrary to general expectation, Alphonse missed the first ball. It is true it came glancing along the ground, propelled with surprising force by an Arragonian who seemed to be the leader of the Spaniards. He was a man of about forty years of age, dry and sinewy, six feet in height, and his olive skin had a tint almost as deep as the bronze of the Venus.Monsieur Alphonse cast his racket upon the ground in a great passion. 'It was this cursed ring,' cried he, 'which cramped my finger, and made me lose a sure ball!'He took off, though not without some difficulty, his diamond ring. I approached to receive it, but he prevented me, ran to the Venus, passed the ring over the third finger, and resumed his place at the head of the Illians.He was pale, but calm and resolute. After this, he made not a single mistake, and the Spaniards were completely beaten. It was a fine thing to see the enthusiasm of the spectators. Some uttered shouts of joy, casting their caps into the air. Others shook hands with the conqueror, calling him the pride of the country. Had he repelled a hostile invasion, I do not think he could have received more hearty or sincere congratulations. The chagrin of the conquered party added still more to the eclat of the victory.'We will have some more games together, my fine fellow,' said he to the Arragonian, with an air of superiority; 'but I must give you odds.'I could have wished that Alphonse had been a little more modest; and I felt almost pained at the humiliation of his rival.The Spanish giant seemed to feel this insult deeply. I saw him turn pale beneath his swarthy skin. He looked mournfully at his racket, grinding his teeth, and then in a stifled voice, said: 'Me lo pagaràs.'The voice of Monsieur Peyrade disturbed the triumph of his son; mine host, who had been very much surprised at not finding him superintending the getting-up of the new carriage, was now still more so at seeing him all in a perspiration, with a racket in his hand. Monsieur Alphonse, however, in haste ran to the house, washed his face and hands, put on his new coat, and his polished shoes, and in ten minutes we were in full trot, on the road to Puygarey. All the Illian tennis-players and a great many of the spectators followed us with cries of joy; and scarcely could the vigorous horses which drew us keep ahead of these intrepid Catalonians.We arrived at Puygarey, and the marriage train were on the point of proceeding to the town-hall, when Monsieur Alphonse, striking his forehead, said to me in a low voice:'What a blunder! I have forgotten my ring! It is on the finger of the Venus; devil take her! However, say nothing to my mother; perhaps she will not notice it.''Could you not send some one back for it?' said I.'Bah! my servant remained at Ille; and I cannot trust these fellows. Twelve hundred francs' worth of diamonds; 't would be too great a temptation. And beside, what would they think of my forgetfulness? They would run their jokes upon me, and call me the husband of the statue. If it is not stolen——Luckily, however, these rascals are afraid of the statue, and dare not come within arm's length of her. Bah! 't is no matter; this other ring will do.'The two ceremonies, religious and civil, were performed with suitable pomp; and Mademoiselle de Puygarey received the ring of a Parisian milliner, without suspecting that the bridegroom had made for her the sacrifice of a pledge of love. The party thenseated themselves at table, where they ate, drank, and even sang by turns. I pitied the bride, for the coarse and vulgar jests to which she was exposed. She, however, made the best of her situation, and her embarrassment was neither that of awkwardness nor affectation. Possibly courage comes with difficult situations.At length breakfast terminated, and it was now nearly four o'clock: the men walked out into the park, which was a magnificent one, where they amused themselves with looking at the peasant girls of Puygarey in holyday attire, dancing on the greensward of the chateau. In this manner we whiled away some hours. In the mean time the women crowded around the bride to admire her wedding presents. Afterward, she changed her apparel, and I noticed that she covered her beautiful tresses with a cap, and hat, and feathers, for married women usually lose no time in assuming the dress which custom forbids them to wear as maidens.It was nearly eight o'clock when all were in readiness to set off on our return to Ille. And then a pathetic scene took place. The aunt of Mademoiselle de Puygarey, who had supplied to her the place of a mother, a very aged and pious lady, was not able to accompany us to the city. At the leave-taking, she made to her niece a long and touching speech on the duties of a wife, which produced a torrent of tears, and kisses, and embracings without end. Monsieur Peyrade compared this separation to the rape of the Sabines. We at length got away, and during the journey, every one attempted to divert the bride, and make her smile, but in vain.At Ille, supper was waiting for us, and such a supper! If the coarse jollification of the morning had shocked me, still more so now, did the vulgar jests and rude jokes of which the bride and groom were especially the subjects. The bridegroom, who had disappeared for a few moments before seating himself at table, looked pale and haggard. He drank freely every few moments, of the old wine of Collioure, which was almost as strong as brandy. As I was seated by his side, I thought proper to caution him.'Be careful!' said I; 'they say that wine'——I hardly know what foolish speech, in accordance with the tone of the company, I was about making, when he touched my knee, and in an under tone, whispered:'When they get up from table, let me speak two words with you.'His solemn manner surprised me. I looked at him more attentively, and remarked a strange alteration in his countenance.'Do you feel indisposed?' inquired I.'No!' and he began again to drink.Presently, amidst shouts and clapping of hands, a child of about eleven years of age, who had slipped under the table, held up before the company a pretty riband of white and red, which he had just detached from the dress of the bride. They called it her garter. It was immediately cut in pieces, and distributed among the young men, who ornamented their button-holes with it, after an old custom which is still observed in some patriarchal families.This made the bride blush to her eyes. But her confusion was at its height, when Monsieur Peyrade, having proclaimed silence, sang to her some Catalonian verses, which, as he said, were impromptu. Their meaning, as nearly as I could comprehend them, were as follows:'What is the meaning of this, my friends?Does the wine cause me to see double?There are two Venus's here'——At this, the bridegroom suddenly turned his head with an air of affright, which set all the guests a laughing. 'Yes, my friends,' continued Monsieur Peyrade:'There are two Venus's beneath my roof.The one I found in the earth like a truffle;The other, heaven-descended, comes to share with us her girdle.'He wished to say, 'her garter.''My son take which you like best;The Roman, or the Catalonian Venus.The rogue chooses the Catalan, and his choice is good.The Roman is black, the Catalan is fair.The Roman is cold, the Catalan inflames the hearts of all who approach her.'This sally excited a hurrah so loud, and shouts of applause, and laughter so obstreperous, that I thought the ceiling would have fallen upon the table. There were but three serious faces present: those of the newly-married pair, and my own. I had a violent headache; and beside, I know not why, a marriage always makes me feel sad. This one, moreover, was not to my taste.Some concluding couplets having been sung by the deputy magistrate, which, I must say, were quite clever, we passed into the hall to witness the departure of the bride, who, as it now drew near midnight, was soon to be conducted to her chamber. At this moment, Monsieur Alphonse drew me into the recess of a window, and with averted eyes said:'I know you will laugh at me; but I don't know what is the matter; I am bewitched! The devil's got me!'My first thought was, that he imagined himself threatened with some such malady as those of which Montaigne and Madame de Sévigné speak:'Tout l'empire amoureux est plein d'histoires tragiques,' etc. I remembered, however, that these accidents only befel men of wit.'You have drank too freely of the Collioure wine, my dear Monsieur Alphonse,' said I. 'You remember I cautioned you against it.''Yes, may be so,' replied he, in a lamentable voice; 'but this is something much more dreadful.'He spoke in broken accents, and I thought him completely tipsy.'You remember my ring?' continued he, after a few moments' silence.'What of it? Has any one stolen it?''No.''Well, then, have you got it?''No. I—I cannot get it off the finger of this devil of a Venus.''Indeed! you did not pull hard enough.''Yes I did; but the Venus—she has shut her finger!'He looked fixedly at me with a haggard expression, and leaned against the casement for support.'What a story is this!' said I: 'you have pushed the ring on too far. To-morrow you can get it off with pincers; but you must be careful not to injure the statue.''No! no! I tell you, the finger of the Venus is bent, closed; she shuts her hand; do you understand me? She is my wife, doubtless, since I have given her my ring. She will not give it back.'For an instant, I experienced a sudden chill, and my flesh seemed to creep upon me. But a long-drawn sigh, which he gave, sent a puff of wine into my face, and all emotion vanished. 'The miserable wretch,' thought I, 'is completely drunk.''You are a learned man, Sir,' added the poor fellow, in a deplorable tone; 'you know all about this sort of statues; may be there is some power, some deviltry, which I do not understand. If you would go and see!''Willingly,' said I; 'come along with me.''No; I had rather you would go alone.'I left the hall: the weather had changed during supper, and the rain was beginning to fall with violence. I was about asking for an umbrella, when a sudden thought stopped me. 'I shall make a great fool of myself by going to see if what this drunken fellow has told me, is true. And beside, it is possible he wishes to play some trick upon me, to set these honest country folks a-laughing, and the least that I can get off for will be a good soaking, and an attack of rheumatism.'I cast from the door a glance toward the statue, which was dripping with water, and then ascended to my chamber, without reëntering the hall. I went to bed, but could not get asleep. All the scenes of the past day were present to my mind. I thought upon this young girl, so beautiful and so pure, abandoned to a brutal drunkard. 'What a detestable thing,' said I to myself, 'is a marriage of convenience!' A magistrate puts on a tri-colored scarf, a priest a stole, and here is one of the finest girls in the world given up to a minotaur! What can two beings who do not love each other have to say at a moment like this, which two real lovers would purchase at the price of their existence? Can a woman ever love a man whom she has once seen make a beast of himself? First impressions are never effaced, and I am sure this Monsieur Alphonse deserves to be hated.'During my monologue, which I have here much abridged, I heard a great deal of walking to and fro through the house, doors opening and shutting, and carriages leaving: then I seemed to hear upon the staircase the light footsteps of a number of women which were directed toward the end of the corridor opposite my chamber. They were probably the attendants of the bride, whom they were conducting to the bridal chamber. At length they all re-descendedthe staircase. The door of Madame Peyrade was closed. 'How troubled and sad must this poor girl now feel!' thought I, as I turned myself upon my bed in not the best of humors. A bachelor plays but a sorry part in a house where a wedding is taking place.Silence reigned for some time, when it was interrupted by heavy footsteps which ascended the stairs. The steps of wood creaked loudly.'What a booby!' exclaimed I. 'Ten to one, he will fall down the stairs.'All became tranquil. I took up a book to change the current of my thoughts. It was a statistical work of the department, enriched by a memoir of Monsieur Peyrade upon the Druidical monuments of the district of Prades. I fell asleep at the third page.I slept badly and awoke a number of times. It might be about five o'clock in the morning, and I had been awake more than twenty minutes, when a cock crew. Day was about breaking. At this moment I distinctly heard the same heavy footsteps, the same creaking of the stairs which I had heard before I went to sleep. It seemed strange. I tried, while yawning, to divine why Monsieur Alphonse should get up so early. I could imagine nothing that seemed probable. I was about closing my eyes, when my attention was again excited by a strange trampling of feet, with which was presently mingled the ringing of bells, and the noise of doors loudly opened; I then distinguished confused outcries.'My drunken friend has set fire to something!' thought I, as I leaped from my bed.I dressed myself quickly and went out into the corridor. Cries and lamentations proceeded from the opposite extremity, and a piercing voice was heard above all the others, exclaiming, 'My son! my son!' It was evident that some accident had happened to Monsieur Alphonse. I ran to the bridal chamber; it was full of persons. The first object which met my eyes was the young man half dressed, stretched across the bed, the frame work of which was broken. He was livid and motionless. His mother was weeping and uttering wild shrieks at his side. Monsieur Peyrade in extreme agitation, was rubbing his temples with cologne water, and putting salts to his nostrils. Alas! his son had been for some time dead. On a couch, at the other end of the room, lay the bride in strong convulsions. She uttered inarticulate cries, and two stout maid-servants could scarcely hold her.'Good God!' cried I, 'what has happened?' I approached the bed, and raised the body of the unfortunate young man; he was already cold and stiff. The set teeth and blackened face expressed the most horrible agony. It was evident that his death had been violent, and that he had suffered terribly. No traces of blood, however, were to be found on his clothes. I drew aside his shirt, and perceived upon the breast a livid mark, which extended around the sides and back. One would have said that he had been enclosed within a circle of fire. My foot touched something hardwhich lay upon the carpet; I stooped down and found it was the diamond ring.I led Monsieur Peyrade and his wife to their own chamber, to which I afterward caused the bride to be conveyed. 'You have still a daughter,' said I to them; 'she requires all your care.' I then left them alone.I had no doubt that Monsieur Alphonse had been the victim of an assassination, the perpetrators of which had found means to introduce themselves by night, into the bridal chamber. The bruises upon the breast, and their circular direction embarrassed me a good deal, for a club or bar of iron would not have produced them. Suddenly, I remembered to have heard that at Valencia the bravos are in the habit of using long sacks of leather filled with fine sand, for the purpose of putting to death those for whose murder they have been paid. I immediately recalled to mind the Arragonian muleteer and his threat; although I could scarcely believe that a few random words would have instigated him to so terrible a revenge.I went throughout the house, seeking all over for traces of a breaking in, but could find none. I then went into the garden to see if the assassins had got in on that side, but could perceive no certain traces. The rain of the preceding evening had besides so softened the ground that it would not well retain an impression. I observed, however, some footprints deeply indented in the soil; they seemed to be in contrary directions but on the same line, leading from the angle of the hedge adjoining the tennis-ground, and terminating at the door of the house. They might have been the steps of Alphonse when he went to look for his ring upon the finger of the statue; or, the hedge being less closely planted at this place than elsewhere, it might have been here that the murderers had effected their entrance. As I passed to and fro before the statue, I stopped a moment to look at it, and I must confess I could not on this occasion behold its expression of ironical wickedness without a sense of dread; and, my head filled with the scene of horror I had just witnessed, I seemed to gaze upon an infernal deity mocking at the calamity which had befallen the house.I returned to my room, where I remained until mid-day: I then came forth and made inquiries about my hosts. They were a little more composed. Mademoiselle de Puygarey, I should say the widow of Monsieur Alphonse, had recovered her senses. She had even had an interview with the king's attorney of Perpignan, then on circuit at Ille; and this magistrate had received her deposition. He requested mine. I told him all I knew of the melancholy affair, and did not conceal my suspicions of the Arragonian muleteer; for whose arrest he gave immediate directions.'Have you learned any thing from Madame Alphonse?' said I to the magistrate, after my deposition had been taken down, and signed.'The poor young creature has become completely deranged,' answered he, with a mournful smile. 'Crazy! completely crazy! Her strange story is as follows:'She had been in bed,' she says, 'a few minutes, the curtains drawn, and every thing silent, when the room door opened, and some one entered. Madame Alphonse was then lying on the farther side of the bed with her face toward the wall. She made no movement, thinking it was her husband. In an instant the bed creaked loudly, as if it had received an enormous weight. She was greatly terrified, but dared not turn her head. Five, ten minutes perhaps—for she could form no idea of time—passed in this manner. She then made an involuntary movement, or it might have been the person in bed who made one, and she felt something in contact with her as cold as ice. These are her expressions. She buried herself beneath the bed-clothes, and trembled from head to foot. Shortly afterward, the door opened a second time, and some one entered, who said: 'Good evening my little wife.' Presently, the curtains were withdrawn, and she heard a struggle and a stifled cry. The figure in bed beside her seemed to raise itself to a sitting posture, and to stretch its arms forward. She then turned her head and saw, as she says, her husband on his knees upon the bed, his head as high as the pillow, in the arms of a sort of greenish-colored giant, who embraced him with great force. She says, and the poor creature has repeated it to me at least twenty times—she says, that she recognized—can you guess what?—the bronze Venus; the statue of Monsieur Peyrade! Since this piece of sculpture has been here, every body, I think, has gone mad. But I am merely repeating the narration of the unhappy lunatic. At this spectacle, she became senseless, and probably for some moments lost her reason. How long she remained in this swoon she can form no idea. When she came to herself, she again saw the phantom, or the statue, as she persists in calling it, immovable, the lower part of the body in bed, the bust and arms extended forward; and between the arms, her husband lifeless and motionless. A cock crowed; on which the statue got out of bed, let fall the dead body, and departed. Madame Alphonse pulled the night-bell, and you know what followed.'They brought in the Spaniard; he was composed, and defended himself with much coolness and presence of mind. He did not deny the speech I had overheard, but explained it, by saying that he only meant that on the morrow, when he was rested, he would beat his antagonist at a game of tennis. I remember, that he added, 'An Arragonian, when insulted, does not wait until the next day for revenge: had I thought Monsieur Alphonse meant to insult me, he would have had my knife in his body on the spot.'They compared his shoes with the print of the footsteps in the garden; the shoes were much larger. Beside this, the innkeeper with whom the man lodged, testified that he had passed the whole of the night in rubbing and giving medicines to one of his mules that was sick. It was also proved that this Arragonian was a man of good character, and well known in the neighborhood around, which he visited every year for purposes of traffic. He was accordingly released, with an apology for his detention.I had almost forgotten the testimony of a domestic, who was thelast person that saw Monsieur Alphonse alive. At the moment he was about going to his wife's chamber, he called to this man, and in an agitated manner, asked him if he knew where I was. The domestic replied that he had not seen me; upon which Monsieur Alphonse gave a heavy sigh, and remained for more than a minute without speaking; he then exclaimed, wildly: 'Come on, then! the devil must have carried him off too!'I asked this man if Monsieur Alphonse had on his diamond ring when he spoke to him. The domestic paused before replying: he at length said, that he believed not; but that he had not paid particular attention. 'But,' added he, correcting himself, 'if the ring had been on his finger, I should doubtless have noticed it, for I believed that he had given it to Madame Alphonse.'While questioning this man, I felt a little of the superstitious terror which the deposition of Madame Alphonse had spread through the house, creeping over me; but observing the king's attorney looking at me with a smile of peculiar meaning, I refrained from farther inquiry.A few hours after the funeral rites of Monsieur Alphonse, which so closely succeeded those of his marriage, had been performed, I made my arrangements to quit Ille. The carriage of Monsieur Peyrade was to convey me to Perpignan. In spite of his feebleness and distress, the poor old man insisted upon accompanying me as far as the garden gate. We walked in silence, he leaning heavily on my arm, and dragging himself along with difficulty. At the moment of our separation, I cast a last look upon the fatal Venus. I well foresaw that my host, though he did not partake of the terror and hatred with which she inspired the greater part of his family, would be very willing to get rid of an object, which incessantly recalled so frightful a calamity. My intention was to persuade him to place it in a museum. As I hesitated about opening the subject, Monsieur Peyrade turned his head mechanically in the direction, toward which he saw me looking so fixedly. He saw the statue, and immediately burst into tears. I embraced him, and without venturing to say a single word, entered the carriage.Since my departure, I have not learned that any thing has transpired to throw light upon this mysterious catastrophe.Monsieur Peyrade died a few months after his son. By his will, he bequeathed me his manuscripts, which I may possibly some day publish. I did not, however, find among them the memoir relating to the inscriptions on the Venus.P. S. My friend Monsieur de P—— has just written to me from Perpignan, informing me that the statue is no longer in existence. After the death of her husband, the first care of Madame Peyrade was to have it cast into a bell, under which new form it now serves the church of Ille. But, added Monsieur de P——, it seems as if bad luck continues to attend the possessors of this bronze. Since this bell has sounded at Ille, the vines have been twice frozen.
Aftera long day's journey, I descended the last of the Canigou mountains, and although it was now past sunset, I distinguished in the plain beneath me the houses of the little village of Ille, toward which I was now directing my course.
'You know,' said I to the Catalonian who acted as my guide, 'you know, I dare say, where Monsieur Peyrade lives?'
'Do I know?' exclaimed he, 'I know his house as well as I do my own; and if it was not so dark, I could point it out to you now. It is the handsomest in Ille. Ah! he has got the money, Monsieur Peyrade has; and he is going to marry his son to one richer than himself.'
'Indeed! and will this marriage take place soon?' asked I.
'Soon! I'll be sworn the fiddles are already engaged for the wedding. It may be to-night, to-morrow, or the day after, for aught that I know. It will take place at Puygarey, for it is Mam'selle de Puygarey, whom young master is going to marry. Ah! there will be fine doings, I can tell you!'
I had a letter of introduction to Monsieur Peyrade from my friend Monsieur de P——. 'This gentleman,' said he to me, 'is a very learned antiquary, extremely hospitable, and will take great pleasure in showing you all the ruins and relics of art for a dozen leagues around.' I had consequently counted upon him, to visit with me the environs of Ille, which I knew to be rich in ancient monuments, as well as those of the middle ages. This wedding, therefore, of which I now heard for the first time, seemed likely to interfere with my plans.
'I shall be an intruder,' said I to myself; 'but as my visit has been already announced by Monsieur de P——, it will be necessary for me to present myself.'
'Monsieur,' said my guide to me, as we reached the plain, 'I will wager a cigar I can guess what you are going to do at Monsieur Peyrade's.'
'Indeed,' said I, handing him a cigar, 'that will not be so very difficult to guess. At this time of night, when one has travelled six leagues in the Canigou mountains, the principal business I think will be supper.'
'Oh yes, but I mean to-morrow. Come now, I will bet that you have come to Ille to see the idol. I guessed as much when I saw you drawing the likenesses of the saints of Serrabona.'
'The idol! what idol?' the word had excited my curiosity.
'How! have you not heard at Perpignan, that Monsieur Peyrade has found an idol buried in the ground?'
'You mean a statue of terra-cotta, or clay?'
'No, no, of copper, real copper, and there is enough of it to make heaps of sous. She will weigh as much as the big bell of a church. We found her buried deep in the ground, at the foot of an olive tree.'
'You were then present at the discovery?'
'Yes Sir; Monsieur Peyrade told us—that is Jean Coll and me, about a fortnight ago—to root up an old olive tree, which had been frozen last year, for the weather you know was very cold. So you see as we were at work, Jean Coll, who went at it with all his might, gave a blow with his pickaxe, and I heard abimm, as if he had struck on a bell. What's that? said I. We dug away, and dug away, and presently saw a black hand, which looked like the hand of a dead man, stretching forth from the earth. I was frightened, and ran to Monsieur: 'There are dead men, master,' said I, 'under the olive tree! We had better send for the priest!' 'What, are you talking about dead men?' said he. He comes to the place, and no sooner sees the hand than he begins to cry out like mad, 'An antique! an antique!' You would have thought he had found a treasure. And so to work he goes with pickaxe and hands, and with such a hearty will that he did as much as Jean and I together.'
'And at last what did you find?'
'A large black woman, more than half naked, saving your presence, Sir, all of copper; and Monsieur Peyrade told us that it was an idol of the heathenish times—of the time of Charlemagne, may be!'
'Ah! I see what it is; some good virgin in bronze from a ruined convent.'
'A good virgin! ah! yes indeed. I should have known it soon enough, had it been a blessed virgin. No, no; it is an idol, I tell you; you can see that well enough by its looks. It stares upon you with its great white eyes. They say it will stare you out of countenance. One is forced to cast down his eyes when he looks at it.'
'White eyes? no doubt they are inserted in the bronze; this must be some Roman statue.'
'Roman! that's it; Monsieur Peyrade said it was a Roman. Ah! I see you are a learned man; just such another as he.'
'Is it in good preservation? perfect?'
'Oh yes, Sir, nothing is wanting. It is handsomer, and better made than the bust of Louis Philippe of painted plaster, which stands in the town-hall. But for all this, the face of this idol does not please me. She has got a wicked look; and in fact, she is so.'
'Wicked? why what trick has she played you?'
'Not exactly on me; but you shall hear. Four of us went to work to set her upright; and Monsieur Peyrade, he too must pull at a rope, although, worthy man! he hasn't much more strength than a chicken. With a good deal of trouble we at last got her straight up. I took a piece of tile to keep her steady, whenpatratas! down she comes headlong, all in a heap. I sung out: 'Take care below!' but not quick enough, however, for Jean Coll hadn't time to pull out his leg.'
'And was he injured?'
'Broken smack off was his poor leg, as if it had been a bean-pole. Sacristi! when I saw that, I was furious. I wanted to break the idol to pieces with my pickaxe, but Monsieur Peyrade wouldn't let me. He gave some money to Jean Coll, who is still in his bed, though it is a fortnight since this happened; and the doctor says he will never walk as well on this leg as on the other. 'Tis a great pity, for he was our best runner, and, next to young master, the best tennis-player in the country. Monsieur Alphonse Peyrade takes it very much to heart, for he always played with Coll. Oh! it was a beautiful sight to see them send the balls up!Paff—paff—they never touched the ground.'
Conversing in this manner, we entered Ille, and I soon found myself in the presence of Monsieur Peyrade. He was a little old man, still ruddy and active, with powdered hair, a red nose, and a gay and jovial air. Before opening the letter of Monsieur de P——, he installed me at a well-spread table, and introduced me to his wife and son, as an eminent archeologist who was going to draw forth Roussillon from the state of oblivion in which the indifference of the savans had so long left it.
While eating with that fine appetite which the keen mountain air imparts, I studied the appearance of my hosts. I have already spoken of Monsieur Peyrade; I may add that he was vivacity itself. He chattered, ate, jumped up, ran to the library, brought me books, showed me prints, poured out wine for me; in short, he was not a moment in repose. His wife, who, as most of the Catalonian women are after the age of forty, was rather fat, and seemed to be a substantial country dame, wholly taken up with the affairs of her household. Although the supper was sufficient for at least six persons, she ran to the kitchen, ordered pigeons to be killed, had fritters made, and opened I know not how many pots of sweet-meats. In a few moments the table was loaded with dishes andbottles, and had I only tasted all that was offered me, I should certainly have died of indigestion. Still, at every dish which I declined, there were fresh apologies. They were 'afraid I did not find things to my liking at Ille. They had so few resources in the country, and Parisians were so hard to please!'
During all this bustle and turmoil, and running to and fro of his progenitors, Monsieur Alphonse Peyrade remained motionless as a post. He was a tall young man, of about six-and-twenty, with handsome, regular features, but totally devoid of expression. His figure and athletic appearance accorded well with the reputation he bore throughout the country, of being a first rate tennis-player. He was dressed this evening in an elegant manner, his clothes being made to resemble exactly the engravings of the last number of the Journal of Fashion. But he did not seem to be at ease in his dress. He was as stiff as a pike-staff in his velvet collar, and when he turned his head, it was only by a movement of his whole body. His large sun-burnt hands with their short nails contrasted strangely with his costly coat; they were the hands of a laborer issuing from the sleeves of a dandy.
Although he examined me from head to foot, with great curiosity, which my character as a Parisian had probably excited, he addressed to me but a single question during the whole evening; which was to ask, where I had bought my watch-chain.
'And now, my dear guest,' said Monsieur Peyrade to me, as supper drew to a close, 'you are in my house, and are my property; and I shall not let you go until you have seen all the curiosities of our mountains. You must take some pains to get acquainted with our Roussillon, so as to do her full justice. You must have no doubts about the things we are going to show you. There are Phenician, Celtic, Roman, Arabic, Bysantian monuments; you shall see them all, from the cedar to the hyssop. I will take you every where, and not a brick shall escape you.'
A fit of coughing here forced the old gentleman to pause; taking advantage of which, I began to express to him my regret at intruding upon his family circle at such an interesting period.
'If you will only give me your excellent advice,' said I, 'touching the excursions I propose making, I will not put you to the trouble of accompanying me.'
'Ah!' said he, interrupting me, 'you mean the marriage of that boy there. This is but a trifle; it will take place the day after to-morrow. You must be present at the wedding with us, in a quiet family way; for the intended bride is in mourning for an aunt, whose property she inherits. So we are to have no merry-making, no ball. This is a great pity. You ought to see our Catalonian girls dance. They are buxom lasses, and perhaps some of them might induce you to follow the example of my Alphonse. One marriage, they say, leads to others. On Saturday, the young folks wedded, I shall be at liberty, and then we will commence our rambles. But I beg pardon for wearying you with this country wedding; you a Parisian, tired of city gayeties and festivities: anda wedding without even a ball! However, you will see a bride; and such a bride! you must tell me what you think of her. But you are so grave and sedate a man, that perhaps you do not look at the women. But I have something better than this to show you; I will let you see something to-morrow! A grand surprise will you have, I promise you.'
'Indeed,' said I, 'but it is a difficult matter to have a treasure in one's house, without people being aware of it. I suspect I can guess what it is you have in store for me. If it is your statue to which you allude, the description my guide gave me of it has only served to excite my curiosity, and prepared me to admire it.'
'Ah! you have then heard about the idol, as they call my beautiful Venus Tur—— But I must say no more at present. To-morrow in broad daylight you shall see her, and you will then say whether I have not reason to be proud of such a master-piece. Parbleu! you could not have arrived more opportunely. There are inscriptions upon it, which I, poor ignoramus, explain after my own fashion; but a savant from Paris! You will perhaps laugh at my explanations: for you must know that I have drawn up a paper on the subject. Yes, even I, old country antiquary as I am, have launched into it. I shall make the press groan. If you, now, would read and correct my memoir for me, I should have some hopes. For instance, I am very curious to know how you would translate this inscription on the pedestal?Cave—— But I must not ask any thing of you now. To-morrow! to-morrow! Not a word of the Venus to-night.'
'You will do well, Peyrade,' said his wife, 'to leave your idol alone for the present. You must see that you are preventing Monsieur from eating his supper. Besides, Monsieur has seen at Paris a great many handsomer statues than thine. At the Tuilleries there are dozens of them, and all of bronze too.'
'Here is ignorance for you! the blessed ignorance of the province!' interrupted Monsieur Peyrade. 'To compare an admirable antique with the foolish images of Costou! 'With what irreverence do my household speak of the gods!' Do you know that my wife wishes me to melt my statue, and run it into a bell for the church! The good dame would like to stand godmother to it. A master-piece of Myron, Sir.'
'Master-piece! master-piece! a pretty master-piece she has made of it! To break a man's leg!'
'Look you here, my wife,' said Monsieur Peyrade, in a resolute tone, and stretching toward her his right leg encased in silken hose, 'if my Venus had broken this leg, I should not have grieved for it.'
'Good heavens! Peyrade, how can you talk so? Luckily the man is doing well; but still I cannot take pleasure in looking at a statue, which causes such misfortunes. Poor Jean Coll!'
'Wounded by Venus, Sir,' said Monsieur Peyrade, bursting into a loud laugh, 'wounded by Venus; the rogue may well complain: 'Veneris, nec prœmia noris;' who has not been wounded by Venus?'
Monsieur Alphonse, who understood French better than Latin, gave a knowing wink, and looked toward me, as much as to say: 'Do you understand that, Parisian?'
The supper at length was finished. I had not been able to eat a mouthful for the last hour. I was extremely fatigued, and could not conceal the frequent yawns which escaped me. Madame Peyrade was the first to perceive them, and observed that it was time to go to bed. Then commenced new apologies for the poor night's lodging I would have. It would not be as at Paris. In the provinces one is so badly provided, I must make allowances for the Roussillon fare. In vain I protested that after a long journey in the mountains a bundle of straw would be a delightful bed; they persisted in begging me to pardon poor country folks, if they did not treat me as well as they wished. At length I ascended to the chamber allotted me, accompanied by Monsieur Peyrade. The staircase, the upper steps of which were of wood, terminated in the middle of a corridor, upon which a number of apartments opened.
'On the right,' said my host to me, 'is the room I have appropriated to Madame Alphonse, that is to be. Your chamber is at the opposite end of the corridor. You know,' added he, with an air which was meant to be facetious, 'you know we must keep the new married couple by themselves. You are at one end of the house, and they are at the other.'
We entered a well-furnished apartment, where the first object which met my eye was a bed about seven feet long, six wide, and so high that it would require a step-ladder to clamber into it. My host having pointed out to me the bell-rope, and satisfied himself that the sugar-basin was replenished, and the bottles of Cologne water, and other appendages of the toilet, duly placed upon the table, and having asked me twenty times over if I wished for any thing more, at length bade me good night and left me alone.
The windows were closed. Before undressing, I opened one, that I might enjoy the cool night air, so delicious after a long supper. Opposite me was the Canigou, at all times striking in appearance, and now illuminated by the beams of a brilliant moon, seeming the most beautiful mountain in the world. I stood for some time gazing upon its picturesque outlines, and was about closing the window, when casting my eyes down, I perceived the statue upon a pedestal, some twenty toises from the house. It was placed at the corner of a quickset hedge, which separated a small garden from a large square perfectly level, which I afterward learned was the tennis-ground of the village. This piece of land, the property of Monsieur Peyrade, had been thrown open to the public by him, at the urgent solicitation of his son. At the distance at which I stood, it was difficult to distinguish the attitude of the statue. I could only judge of its height, which seemed about six feet. Just at this moment, two idlers of the village passed across the play-ground, pretty near the hedge, whistling the pretty air of Roussillonmontagnes regalades. They stopped to look at the statue, and one of them apostrophizedit aloud. He spoke the Catalonian dialect, but I had been long enough in Roussillon to comprehend nearly all he said.
'Ah! there you are, you slut! (the Catalonian epithet was more energetic) there you are!' said he. 'It was you, then, that broke Jean Coll's leg? If you belonged to me I would break your cursed neck!'
'Bah!' said the other, 'with what? She is made of copper, and so hard that Stephen broke his file trying to make a notch in her. It is copper of the time of the heathens, and harder than any thing I know.'
'If I had my good chisel here, (it seems he was a locksmith's apprentice,) I would soon have out those big white eyes, as I would take an almond from the shell. There's enough silver there to make an hundred sous.'
They proceeded a few paces. 'I must bid the idol good night,' said the larger of the two apprentices, suddenly stopping.
He stooped down and probably picked up a stone. I could see him stretch out his arm, throw something, and immediately a ringing sound was heard from the bronze. At the same instant, the apprentice put his hand to his head, uttering a cry of pain.
'She has flung it back at me!' cried he; and the two vagabonds took to flight, as fast as their legs could carry them. It was evident that the stone had rebounded from the metal, and punished the wag for the insult he had offered the goddess.
I closed the window, laughing heartily. 'Here is another Vandal punished by Venus! May all the destroyers of our ancient monuments have their heads broken in the same manner!' With this charitable wish I fell asleep.
When I awoke it was broad day. Near my bed stood on one side Monsieur Peyrade in his morning gown, and on the other a domestic sent by his wife, with a cup of chocolate.
'Come, get up, get up, Parisian! Why, what lazy fellows you of the capital are!' said my host, as I hurried on my clothes. 'This is the third time I have been up here. I approached your door on tiptoe: nobody stirring; not a sign of life. It is bad for the health to sleep too much at your age. And there is my Venus, which you have not seen yet. Come, swallow this cup of chocolate from Barcelona; real contraband. You can't get the like of it at Paris. You will need all your strength, I can tell you; for when you once get before my Venus you will not so easily be drawn away from her.'
In five minutes I was ready; that is to say, half shaven, scarcely buttoned, and with throat scalded by the chocolate, which I had swallowed boiling hot. I descended into the garden, and found myself before an admirable statue.
It was, in truth, a Venus, and of a marvellous beauty. She was above the common stature, as the ancients usually represented their principal divinities. The right hand raised to the level of the breast, was turned with the palm inward, the thumb and two first fingers outstretched, the two others slightly bent. The other hand placed near the hip, sustained the drapery which covered the lower part ofthe body. The attitude of this statue reminded me of that of the thrower of the discus, which is designated, I know not why, as Germanicus. Possibly the artist wished to represent the goddess playing at that game.
However this might be, it was impossible to conceive any thing more perfect than the figure of this Venus; nothing more soft or more voluptuous than its outlines; nothing more noble or elegant than the drapery. I had expected some production of the middle ages; I saw a master-piece of the best period of statuary. What chiefly struck me was the exquisite truth of its form, so that one might have supposed it modelled from nature, did nature ever produce perfect models.
The hair, turned back from the forehead, appeared to have been formerly gilded. The head, small like those of almost all the Greek statues, was slightly inclined forward. As to the face, I despair of being able to express its strange character, the type of which did not at all resemble that of any ancient statue I remembered. It was not that calm and severe beauty of the Greek sculptors, which imparts by design to all the features a majestic repose. Here, on the contrary, I observed with surprise the evident intention of the artist to express in the countenance malice almost bordering on malignity. All the features were slightly contracted; the eyes a little oblique, the corners of the mouth drawn up, and the nostrils somewhat dilated. Disdain, irony, cruelty, might be read in the countenance, which was still of incredible beauty. Indeed, the more one looked at this admirable statue, the more one experienced a sense of pain that such marvellous beauty should be allied with the absence of all sensibility.
'If her model ever existed,' said I to Monsieur Peyrade, 'and I doubt if heaven ever produced such a woman, how I should pity her lovers! She would have taken pleasure in making them die of despair. There is something ferocious in her expression, and yet I have never seen any thing more beautiful.'
'C'est Venus tout entière à sa proie attachée!' exclaimed Monsieur Peyrade, satisfied with my enthusiasm.
This expression of infernal irony was perhaps increased by the contrast of the silver eyes, which were very brilliant, with the hue of blackish green which time had given to the whole statue. These lustrous eyes produced a certain illusion which almost gave the effect of the reality of life. I recollected what my guide told me, that she made those who looked at her cast down their eyes. This was in fact almost true; and I could not help feeling vexed at finding myself not quite at my ease before this visage of bronze.
'Now that you have admired every thing in detail, my dear colleague in antiquarian lore,' said my host to me, 'let us have, if you please, a little scientific conference. What say you to this inscription, which you have not yet noticed?'
He pointed to the pedestal of the statue, where I read these words:
CAVE AMANTEM.
'What do you say to that, most learned?' demanded he, rubbing his hands. 'Let us see if we can agree upon the meaning of thiscave amantem.'
'But,' said I, 'there are two senses in which it may be understood. It may be translated 'Beware of him who loves you; do not trust lovers.' But in this sense I hardly know whethercave amantemwould be good Latin. On looking at the diabolical expression of the lady, I should rather think the artist wished to put the spectator on his guard against this terrible beauty. I would therefore prefer translating it: 'Take care of yourself, if she loves you.''
'Humph!' said Monsieur Peyrade; 'to be sure that meaning is admissible; but with due deference I prefer the first translation, which however I will develop a little. You remember the lover of Venus?'
'She had a great many.'
'True, but the first one was Vulcan. Now does not this mean to say: 'In spite of all your beauty, and your proud and disdainful looks, you shall have a blacksmith, a miserable lame wretch for a lover.' A profound lesson, Sir, for coquettes!'
I could scarcely repress a smile at this far-fetched explanation.
'This Latin is a terrible language with its conciseness,' observed I, not wishing to contradict more directly the good antiquary; and I stepped back a few paces, that I might have a better view of the statue.
'One moment, colleague!' said Monsieur Peyrade, seizing my arm; 'you have not yet seen all. There is another inscription. Get upon the pedestal, and look at the right arm.'
So saying, he assisted me in climbing up. I put my arm without much ceremony around the neck of the Venus, with whom I began to be on familiar terms. I gazed at her a moment face to face, and found her on a close survey to be still more wicked-looking, and still more beautiful. I then noticed some small characters, apparently of an ancient date, engraven upon the arm. With some difficulty, and by the aid of a magnifying-glass, I spelled as follows; Monsieur Peyrade repeating after me each word as I pronounced it, with strong emphasis and gesticulation:
VENERI TVRBVL * * * *EVTYCHES MYROIMPERIO FECIT
VENERI TVRBVL * * * *EVTYCHES MYROIMPERIO FECIT
After the wordTVRBVLof the first line, there appeared to be some letters effaced; butTVRBVLwas perfectly legible.
'And what does that mean?' asked my host, chuckling, and smiling maliciously; for he rightly thought that I would not be able to make out thisTVRBVL.
'There is one word here that I cannot yet explain,' said I; 'all the rest is easy enough. Eutyches Myron has made this offering to Venus, by her command.'
'Very well. ButTVRBVL; what do you make of that? What doesTVRBVLmean?'
'Why,TVRBVLpuzzles me a good deal; I am trying to recollect some of the appellations of Venus to aid me. Let me see; what do you say toTVRBVLENTA? Venus who troubles, who disturbs? You see I am constantly impressed with her wicked expression.Tvrbvlenta; this is not a bad epithet for Venus;' added I, with an air of deference, for I was not myself very well satisfied with this explanation.
'The turbulent Venus! Venus the virago! Ah! you think then that my Venus is a Venus of the ale-houses. By no means, Sir; she is a Venus of good society. But I am going to explain to you thisTVRBVL. You must, however, promise not to divulge my discovery before my memoir is published; because you must know that I take some little credit to myself for this investigation. It is but fair that you gentlemen savans of Paris, who are so rich in the spoils of antiquity, should leave a few ears to be gleaned by us poor devils of the provinces.'
From the top of the pedestal, on which I still remained perched, I solemnly promised him that I would never be so base as to steal his discovery.
'ForTVRBVL. . . ., Sir,' said he, coming close to me, and lowering his voice for fear any one else should hear him, 'readTVRBVLNERÆ.'
I was not a whit wiser than before.
'Listen to me,' continued he; 'about a league from hence, at the foot of a mountain, there is a village called Boulternére. This is a corruption of the Latin wordTVRBVLNERA. Nothing is more common than these inversions. Boulternére, Sir, was a Roman city. I have always had my suspicions of this, but never had the proof. Now, Sir, there is the proof. This Venus was the local divinity of the city of Boulternére. And this word Boulternére, which I am going to show is of ancient origin, proves a still more curious fact, which is that Boulternére, before it was a Roman city, was a Phenician town!'
He stopped a moment to take breath, and enjoy my surprise. I could scarcely repress a strong inclination to laugh.
'In fact,' continued he, 'TVRBVLNERAis pure Phenician.Tvr, pronounceTOUR;TOURandSOUR, the same word, is it not?Souris the Phenician name of Tyre; I need not recall to you its meaning.Bvl, this is Baal, Bal, Bel, Bul, with slight differences of pronunciation. As toNERA, this has given me some little trouble. I am strongly inclined to believe, in default of finding a Phenician word, that this comes from the Greeknerós, humid, marshy. This, it is true, would make it a hybrid word. To justifynerós, however, I will show you at Boulternére how the streams from the mountain form stagnant pools there. On the other hand, the terminationNERAmight have been added at a much later date, in honor of Nera Pivesuvia, the wife of Tetricus, who probably had conferred some benefit upon the city of Turbul. But, in consequence of the marshes, I prefer the etymology ofnerós.'
My worthy friend here took a pinch of snuff, with an air of great satisfaction.
'But let us leave the Phenicians, and return to our inscription. I translate it then: 'To Venus of Boulternére, Myron, by her command, dedicates this statue, his work.'
I took good care not to criticise my learned friend's etymology, but wishing to give in my turn a proof of penetration: 'Hold there, Sir!' said I; 'allowing that Myron has dedicated something, it does not follow that it is this statue.'
'How!' cried he, 'was not Myron a famous Greek? Talent would be perpetuated in his family; and it was one of his descendants who made this statue. Nothing can be more certain.'
'But,' replied I, 'I see upon the arm a small hole; this, I think, has served to support something; a bracelet, for instance, which this Myron has given to Venus as an expiatory offering. Myron was some unfortunate lover with whom Venus was angry, and he endeavored to appease her by the offering of a golden bracelet. You must remember thatfecit, made, is often used forconsecravit, dedicated. They are, indeed, synonymous words; and I could give you more than one example, had I Gruter, or rather Orelius at hand. Nothing is more natural than that a lover should see Venus in a dream, and imagine that she commanded him to give a golden bracelet to her statue. Myron dedicated a bracelet to her. Afterward the barbarians, or perhaps some sacrilegious robber'——
'Ah! ha! one may easily see that you have written romances;' cried my host, giving me his hand to assist me in descending. 'No, no; Sir, it is a production of the school of Myron. Only look at the workmanship, and you must be convinced of it.'
As I make it a rule never to contradict an obstinate antiquary, I bowed with an air of conviction, and merely observed: 'It is indeed an admirable piece of work.'
'Ah! mon Dieu!' cried Monsieur Peyrade, 'here is another piece of Vandalism! Somebody has thrown a stone at my statue!'
He had just perceived a white mark a little below the bosom of the Venus. I had noticed a similar appearance upon the fingers of the right hand, which I supposed had been grazed by the stone thrown at her the preceding evening, or more probably a fragment had been detached by the concussion, and had glanced off from the hand. I related to my host the insult of which I had been the witness, and the prompt punishment which followed. He laughed heartily, and comparing the apprentice to Diomede, wished that, like the Greek hero, he might see all his companions changed into white birds.
The breakfast bell here interrupted our classic conference; and, as on the previous evening, I was again compelled to eat the share of four. Then came the farmers of Monsieur Peyrade; and while he gave them audience, his son took me to see a new carriage which he had lately bought at Toulouse for his intended bride. I admired it in silence, and then accompanied him to the stables, where he kept me half an hour, boasting of his horses, relating their pedigree, and telling me how many prizes they had won at the neighboringraces. At length, by a transition from a gray palfrey which he intended for her use, he was led to speak of his future wife.
'We shall see her to-day,' said he. 'I don't know whether you will think her pretty or not. You Parisians are hard to please; but every body here and at Perpignan think her beautiful. But the best of it is, she is deuced rich. Her old aunt at Prades, who died the other day, left her all her money; and no trifle either. Don't you think I am a lucky dog?'
I was grieved to see the young man so much more affected by the dower than by the amiable qualities of his future wife.
'Are you a judge of jewels?' continued Monsieur Alphonse, holding up his brawny hand; 'how do you like this? Here is the ring I am going to give her to-morrow.'
So saying, he drew from the first joint of his little finger a large ring set with diamonds, in the form of two hands clasped together; a pretty allusion, which seemed quite poetical. The workmanship was very ancient, but appeared to have been lately retouched, to let in the diamonds. On the inner side of the ring were these words in Gothic characters: 'Sempr' al te,' that is, 'Always with thee.'
'It is a very beautiful ring,' said I; 'but these diamonds which have been added seem to have destroyed its character a little.'
'Oh! it is much handsomer as it is,' replied he, smiling. 'There is twelve hundred francs' worth of diamonds there. My mother gave it to me. It was a family ring; very ancient, of the time of chivalry. She got it from my grandmother, who had it from her's. The Lord knows when it was made.'
'It is the custom in Paris, on these occasions,' said I, 'to give a ring that is entirely plain, usually composed of two different metals, such as gold and platinum. Look, the other ring, which you have on this finger, would be more appropriate. This one with the diamonds, and the hands in relief, is so large that a glove cannot be worn over it.'
'Oh! Madame Alphonse must manage that as she pleases. I think she will be very well content to have it as it is. Twelve hundred francs on one's finger is not so bad. This little ring here,' added he, regarding the plain ring on his left hand with an air of complacency, 'was given me by a lady at Paris one Shrove-Tuesday. Ah!' added he, with a sigh of regret, 'what fine times I had in Paris two years ago! That's the place for sport.'
As we were to dine this day at Puygarey, with the relatives of the future bride, we proceeded in a carriage to the chateau, which was about a league and a half distant from Ille. I was introduced and welcomed as a friend of the family. I shall not speak of the dinner, nor of the conversation which ensued, in which I took but little part.
Mademoiselle de Puygarey was about eighteen years of age; and her slender and delicate figure formed a strong contrast with the coarse and robust frame of her affianced. She was not merely beautiful, but winning and attractive. I admired the perfect simplicity of all her movements, and the ingenuousness of her replies;and the general expression of her countenance, which was not exempt from a slight tinge of malice, reminded me, in spite of myself, of the Venus of my host. In the inward comparison I made between them, I asked myself whether the superiority of beauty, which must clearly be conceded to the statue, did not in some degree depend upon her fierce and tiger-like expression; for energy, even in bad passions, always excites, mingled with astonishment, a sort of involuntary admiration.
'What a pity,' said I to myself on leaving Puygarey, 'that the wealth of so lovely a person should have rendered her the object of attraction to a man totally unworthy of her!'
On our return to Ille, not exactly knowing what to say to Madame Peyrade, to whom I thought it but civil occasionally to address a word: 'You are sensible people at Roussillon,' said I; 'how happens it that you are going to have a wedding on a Friday? At Paris we should be more superstitious; nobody would dare to marry on that day.'
'Oh! good Lord! don't speak of it,' said she; 'if it had depended upon me, you may be sure I should have chosen another day. But Peyrade would have it so; and we had to give up to him. It troubles me, however, a good deal. Suppose some misfortune should happen? There must be some truth in the superstition, since every body has a dread of Friday.'
'Friday!' exclaimed her husband, in a gay tone; 'it is the day of Venus! An excellent day for a wedding! You see, my dear colleague, I can think of nothing but my Venus. To tell the truth, it is on her account that I have pitched upon Friday. To-morrow, if you please, before the ceremony, we will make a little sacrifice to her; two ring-doves as an offering, and if I knew where to get a little incense'——
'Fie upon you, Peyrade!' interrupted his wife, highly scandalized at this proposition. 'Offer incense to an idol! It would be an abomination! Why, what will all the country say of it?'
'At least,' said Monsieur Peyrade, 'you will permit me to place upon her head a crown of roses and lilies:
'Manibus date lilia plenis.'
You see, Sir,' added he, turning to me, 'the charter is but an empty name. We have not the freedom of worship!'
The arrangements for the next day were made as follows: Every one was to be ready, in full dress, at ten o'clock precisely. After taking chocolate, we were to go in carriages to Puygarey, where the civil marriage was to be performed before the mayor of the village, and the religious ceremony in the chapel of the chateau. Then there was to be a breakfast; after which each one was to pass the time as he pleased until seven o'clock, when the two families were to return to Ille to sup together at the house of Monsieur Peyrade. The rest would follow as a matter of course. Not being able to have a dance, it was determined there should be as much eating and drinking as possible.
Since eight o'clock I had been sitting before the Venus, withcrayon in hand, recommencing for the twentieth time the head of the statue, without being able to catch the expression. Monsieur Peyrade was bustling about, giving me advice, and repeating his Phenician etymologies; he then placed a garland of Bengal roses upon the pedestal of the statue, and in a tragi-comic tone addressed prayers to it for the young couple who were about to take up their abode under his roof. About nine o'clock, he reëntered the house to make his toilet, and immediately afterward Monsieur Alphonse made his appearance, squeezed into a new coat of the latest pattern, with white gloves, well polished shoes, embossed buttons, and a rose at his button-hole.
'You must take the likeness of my wife!' said he, leaning over my drawing; 'she is very pretty.'
At this moment a game of tennis commenced upon the playground, of which I have already spoken, which immediately attracted the attention of Monsieur Alphonse. As for myself, wearied with my task, and despairing of catching the diabolical expression of the countenance, I presently gave up my drawing to look at the players. There were among them some Spanish muleteers, who had arrived at Ille the evening before. They were from Arragon and Navarre, and most of them of great skill and dexterity; so that the Illians, although encouraged by the presence and counsel of Monsieur Alphonse, were soon beaten by these new champions. The national spectators were in consternation. Monsieur Alphonse looked at his watch; it was but half past nine; his mother had not yet completed her toilet; he hesitated no longer; threw off his coat, called for a jacket, and challenged the Spaniards.
Not a little surprised, I looked at him with a smile.
'We must sustain the honor of the country,' said he. I now noticed that he was in reality a handsome man. He was excited; and his dress, which occupied so much of his attention at other times, was nothing to him now. A few moments before he would scarcely have turned his head for fear of discomposing his cravat; now he thought no longer of his curled locks, or of his ruffles so neatly plaited. And his bride! in sooth, had it been necessary, I believe he would have postponed the marriage, sooner than have declined the game. I saw him put on in haste a pair of slippers, turn up his sleeves, and with an air of confidence place himself at the head of the conquered party, like Cæsar rallying his soldiers at Dyrrachium. I leaped the hedge, and seated myself comfortably in the shade of a linden tree, that I might see the game to advantage.
Contrary to general expectation, Alphonse missed the first ball. It is true it came glancing along the ground, propelled with surprising force by an Arragonian who seemed to be the leader of the Spaniards. He was a man of about forty years of age, dry and sinewy, six feet in height, and his olive skin had a tint almost as deep as the bronze of the Venus.
Monsieur Alphonse cast his racket upon the ground in a great passion. 'It was this cursed ring,' cried he, 'which cramped my finger, and made me lose a sure ball!'
He took off, though not without some difficulty, his diamond ring. I approached to receive it, but he prevented me, ran to the Venus, passed the ring over the third finger, and resumed his place at the head of the Illians.
He was pale, but calm and resolute. After this, he made not a single mistake, and the Spaniards were completely beaten. It was a fine thing to see the enthusiasm of the spectators. Some uttered shouts of joy, casting their caps into the air. Others shook hands with the conqueror, calling him the pride of the country. Had he repelled a hostile invasion, I do not think he could have received more hearty or sincere congratulations. The chagrin of the conquered party added still more to the eclat of the victory.
'We will have some more games together, my fine fellow,' said he to the Arragonian, with an air of superiority; 'but I must give you odds.'
I could have wished that Alphonse had been a little more modest; and I felt almost pained at the humiliation of his rival.
The Spanish giant seemed to feel this insult deeply. I saw him turn pale beneath his swarthy skin. He looked mournfully at his racket, grinding his teeth, and then in a stifled voice, said: 'Me lo pagaràs.'
The voice of Monsieur Peyrade disturbed the triumph of his son; mine host, who had been very much surprised at not finding him superintending the getting-up of the new carriage, was now still more so at seeing him all in a perspiration, with a racket in his hand. Monsieur Alphonse, however, in haste ran to the house, washed his face and hands, put on his new coat, and his polished shoes, and in ten minutes we were in full trot, on the road to Puygarey. All the Illian tennis-players and a great many of the spectators followed us with cries of joy; and scarcely could the vigorous horses which drew us keep ahead of these intrepid Catalonians.
We arrived at Puygarey, and the marriage train were on the point of proceeding to the town-hall, when Monsieur Alphonse, striking his forehead, said to me in a low voice:
'What a blunder! I have forgotten my ring! It is on the finger of the Venus; devil take her! However, say nothing to my mother; perhaps she will not notice it.'
'Could you not send some one back for it?' said I.
'Bah! my servant remained at Ille; and I cannot trust these fellows. Twelve hundred francs' worth of diamonds; 't would be too great a temptation. And beside, what would they think of my forgetfulness? They would run their jokes upon me, and call me the husband of the statue. If it is not stolen——Luckily, however, these rascals are afraid of the statue, and dare not come within arm's length of her. Bah! 't is no matter; this other ring will do.'
The two ceremonies, religious and civil, were performed with suitable pomp; and Mademoiselle de Puygarey received the ring of a Parisian milliner, without suspecting that the bridegroom had made for her the sacrifice of a pledge of love. The party thenseated themselves at table, where they ate, drank, and even sang by turns. I pitied the bride, for the coarse and vulgar jests to which she was exposed. She, however, made the best of her situation, and her embarrassment was neither that of awkwardness nor affectation. Possibly courage comes with difficult situations.
At length breakfast terminated, and it was now nearly four o'clock: the men walked out into the park, which was a magnificent one, where they amused themselves with looking at the peasant girls of Puygarey in holyday attire, dancing on the greensward of the chateau. In this manner we whiled away some hours. In the mean time the women crowded around the bride to admire her wedding presents. Afterward, she changed her apparel, and I noticed that she covered her beautiful tresses with a cap, and hat, and feathers, for married women usually lose no time in assuming the dress which custom forbids them to wear as maidens.
It was nearly eight o'clock when all were in readiness to set off on our return to Ille. And then a pathetic scene took place. The aunt of Mademoiselle de Puygarey, who had supplied to her the place of a mother, a very aged and pious lady, was not able to accompany us to the city. At the leave-taking, she made to her niece a long and touching speech on the duties of a wife, which produced a torrent of tears, and kisses, and embracings without end. Monsieur Peyrade compared this separation to the rape of the Sabines. We at length got away, and during the journey, every one attempted to divert the bride, and make her smile, but in vain.
At Ille, supper was waiting for us, and such a supper! If the coarse jollification of the morning had shocked me, still more so now, did the vulgar jests and rude jokes of which the bride and groom were especially the subjects. The bridegroom, who had disappeared for a few moments before seating himself at table, looked pale and haggard. He drank freely every few moments, of the old wine of Collioure, which was almost as strong as brandy. As I was seated by his side, I thought proper to caution him.
'Be careful!' said I; 'they say that wine'——I hardly know what foolish speech, in accordance with the tone of the company, I was about making, when he touched my knee, and in an under tone, whispered:
'When they get up from table, let me speak two words with you.'
His solemn manner surprised me. I looked at him more attentively, and remarked a strange alteration in his countenance.
'Do you feel indisposed?' inquired I.
'No!' and he began again to drink.
Presently, amidst shouts and clapping of hands, a child of about eleven years of age, who had slipped under the table, held up before the company a pretty riband of white and red, which he had just detached from the dress of the bride. They called it her garter. It was immediately cut in pieces, and distributed among the young men, who ornamented their button-holes with it, after an old custom which is still observed in some patriarchal families.This made the bride blush to her eyes. But her confusion was at its height, when Monsieur Peyrade, having proclaimed silence, sang to her some Catalonian verses, which, as he said, were impromptu. Their meaning, as nearly as I could comprehend them, were as follows:
'What is the meaning of this, my friends?Does the wine cause me to see double?There are two Venus's here'——
At this, the bridegroom suddenly turned his head with an air of affright, which set all the guests a laughing. 'Yes, my friends,' continued Monsieur Peyrade:
'There are two Venus's beneath my roof.The one I found in the earth like a truffle;The other, heaven-descended, comes to share with us her girdle.'
He wished to say, 'her garter.'
'My son take which you like best;The Roman, or the Catalonian Venus.The rogue chooses the Catalan, and his choice is good.The Roman is black, the Catalan is fair.The Roman is cold, the Catalan inflames the hearts of all who approach her.'
This sally excited a hurrah so loud, and shouts of applause, and laughter so obstreperous, that I thought the ceiling would have fallen upon the table. There were but three serious faces present: those of the newly-married pair, and my own. I had a violent headache; and beside, I know not why, a marriage always makes me feel sad. This one, moreover, was not to my taste.
Some concluding couplets having been sung by the deputy magistrate, which, I must say, were quite clever, we passed into the hall to witness the departure of the bride, who, as it now drew near midnight, was soon to be conducted to her chamber. At this moment, Monsieur Alphonse drew me into the recess of a window, and with averted eyes said:
'I know you will laugh at me; but I don't know what is the matter; I am bewitched! The devil's got me!'
My first thought was, that he imagined himself threatened with some such malady as those of which Montaigne and Madame de Sévigné speak:
'Tout l'empire amoureux est plein d'histoires tragiques,' etc. I remembered, however, that these accidents only befel men of wit.
'You have drank too freely of the Collioure wine, my dear Monsieur Alphonse,' said I. 'You remember I cautioned you against it.'
'Yes, may be so,' replied he, in a lamentable voice; 'but this is something much more dreadful.'
He spoke in broken accents, and I thought him completely tipsy.
'You remember my ring?' continued he, after a few moments' silence.
'What of it? Has any one stolen it?'
'No.'
'Well, then, have you got it?'
'No. I—I cannot get it off the finger of this devil of a Venus.'
'Indeed! you did not pull hard enough.'
'Yes I did; but the Venus—she has shut her finger!'
He looked fixedly at me with a haggard expression, and leaned against the casement for support.
'What a story is this!' said I: 'you have pushed the ring on too far. To-morrow you can get it off with pincers; but you must be careful not to injure the statue.'
'No! no! I tell you, the finger of the Venus is bent, closed; she shuts her hand; do you understand me? She is my wife, doubtless, since I have given her my ring. She will not give it back.'
For an instant, I experienced a sudden chill, and my flesh seemed to creep upon me. But a long-drawn sigh, which he gave, sent a puff of wine into my face, and all emotion vanished. 'The miserable wretch,' thought I, 'is completely drunk.'
'You are a learned man, Sir,' added the poor fellow, in a deplorable tone; 'you know all about this sort of statues; may be there is some power, some deviltry, which I do not understand. If you would go and see!'
'Willingly,' said I; 'come along with me.'
'No; I had rather you would go alone.'
I left the hall: the weather had changed during supper, and the rain was beginning to fall with violence. I was about asking for an umbrella, when a sudden thought stopped me. 'I shall make a great fool of myself by going to see if what this drunken fellow has told me, is true. And beside, it is possible he wishes to play some trick upon me, to set these honest country folks a-laughing, and the least that I can get off for will be a good soaking, and an attack of rheumatism.'
I cast from the door a glance toward the statue, which was dripping with water, and then ascended to my chamber, without reëntering the hall. I went to bed, but could not get asleep. All the scenes of the past day were present to my mind. I thought upon this young girl, so beautiful and so pure, abandoned to a brutal drunkard. 'What a detestable thing,' said I to myself, 'is a marriage of convenience!' A magistrate puts on a tri-colored scarf, a priest a stole, and here is one of the finest girls in the world given up to a minotaur! What can two beings who do not love each other have to say at a moment like this, which two real lovers would purchase at the price of their existence? Can a woman ever love a man whom she has once seen make a beast of himself? First impressions are never effaced, and I am sure this Monsieur Alphonse deserves to be hated.'
During my monologue, which I have here much abridged, I heard a great deal of walking to and fro through the house, doors opening and shutting, and carriages leaving: then I seemed to hear upon the staircase the light footsteps of a number of women which were directed toward the end of the corridor opposite my chamber. They were probably the attendants of the bride, whom they were conducting to the bridal chamber. At length they all re-descendedthe staircase. The door of Madame Peyrade was closed. 'How troubled and sad must this poor girl now feel!' thought I, as I turned myself upon my bed in not the best of humors. A bachelor plays but a sorry part in a house where a wedding is taking place.
Silence reigned for some time, when it was interrupted by heavy footsteps which ascended the stairs. The steps of wood creaked loudly.
'What a booby!' exclaimed I. 'Ten to one, he will fall down the stairs.'
All became tranquil. I took up a book to change the current of my thoughts. It was a statistical work of the department, enriched by a memoir of Monsieur Peyrade upon the Druidical monuments of the district of Prades. I fell asleep at the third page.
I slept badly and awoke a number of times. It might be about five o'clock in the morning, and I had been awake more than twenty minutes, when a cock crew. Day was about breaking. At this moment I distinctly heard the same heavy footsteps, the same creaking of the stairs which I had heard before I went to sleep. It seemed strange. I tried, while yawning, to divine why Monsieur Alphonse should get up so early. I could imagine nothing that seemed probable. I was about closing my eyes, when my attention was again excited by a strange trampling of feet, with which was presently mingled the ringing of bells, and the noise of doors loudly opened; I then distinguished confused outcries.
'My drunken friend has set fire to something!' thought I, as I leaped from my bed.
I dressed myself quickly and went out into the corridor. Cries and lamentations proceeded from the opposite extremity, and a piercing voice was heard above all the others, exclaiming, 'My son! my son!' It was evident that some accident had happened to Monsieur Alphonse. I ran to the bridal chamber; it was full of persons. The first object which met my eyes was the young man half dressed, stretched across the bed, the frame work of which was broken. He was livid and motionless. His mother was weeping and uttering wild shrieks at his side. Monsieur Peyrade in extreme agitation, was rubbing his temples with cologne water, and putting salts to his nostrils. Alas! his son had been for some time dead. On a couch, at the other end of the room, lay the bride in strong convulsions. She uttered inarticulate cries, and two stout maid-servants could scarcely hold her.
'Good God!' cried I, 'what has happened?' I approached the bed, and raised the body of the unfortunate young man; he was already cold and stiff. The set teeth and blackened face expressed the most horrible agony. It was evident that his death had been violent, and that he had suffered terribly. No traces of blood, however, were to be found on his clothes. I drew aside his shirt, and perceived upon the breast a livid mark, which extended around the sides and back. One would have said that he had been enclosed within a circle of fire. My foot touched something hardwhich lay upon the carpet; I stooped down and found it was the diamond ring.
I led Monsieur Peyrade and his wife to their own chamber, to which I afterward caused the bride to be conveyed. 'You have still a daughter,' said I to them; 'she requires all your care.' I then left them alone.
I had no doubt that Monsieur Alphonse had been the victim of an assassination, the perpetrators of which had found means to introduce themselves by night, into the bridal chamber. The bruises upon the breast, and their circular direction embarrassed me a good deal, for a club or bar of iron would not have produced them. Suddenly, I remembered to have heard that at Valencia the bravos are in the habit of using long sacks of leather filled with fine sand, for the purpose of putting to death those for whose murder they have been paid. I immediately recalled to mind the Arragonian muleteer and his threat; although I could scarcely believe that a few random words would have instigated him to so terrible a revenge.
I went throughout the house, seeking all over for traces of a breaking in, but could find none. I then went into the garden to see if the assassins had got in on that side, but could perceive no certain traces. The rain of the preceding evening had besides so softened the ground that it would not well retain an impression. I observed, however, some footprints deeply indented in the soil; they seemed to be in contrary directions but on the same line, leading from the angle of the hedge adjoining the tennis-ground, and terminating at the door of the house. They might have been the steps of Alphonse when he went to look for his ring upon the finger of the statue; or, the hedge being less closely planted at this place than elsewhere, it might have been here that the murderers had effected their entrance. As I passed to and fro before the statue, I stopped a moment to look at it, and I must confess I could not on this occasion behold its expression of ironical wickedness without a sense of dread; and, my head filled with the scene of horror I had just witnessed, I seemed to gaze upon an infernal deity mocking at the calamity which had befallen the house.
I returned to my room, where I remained until mid-day: I then came forth and made inquiries about my hosts. They were a little more composed. Mademoiselle de Puygarey, I should say the widow of Monsieur Alphonse, had recovered her senses. She had even had an interview with the king's attorney of Perpignan, then on circuit at Ille; and this magistrate had received her deposition. He requested mine. I told him all I knew of the melancholy affair, and did not conceal my suspicions of the Arragonian muleteer; for whose arrest he gave immediate directions.
'Have you learned any thing from Madame Alphonse?' said I to the magistrate, after my deposition had been taken down, and signed.
'The poor young creature has become completely deranged,' answered he, with a mournful smile. 'Crazy! completely crazy! Her strange story is as follows:
'She had been in bed,' she says, 'a few minutes, the curtains drawn, and every thing silent, when the room door opened, and some one entered. Madame Alphonse was then lying on the farther side of the bed with her face toward the wall. She made no movement, thinking it was her husband. In an instant the bed creaked loudly, as if it had received an enormous weight. She was greatly terrified, but dared not turn her head. Five, ten minutes perhaps—for she could form no idea of time—passed in this manner. She then made an involuntary movement, or it might have been the person in bed who made one, and she felt something in contact with her as cold as ice. These are her expressions. She buried herself beneath the bed-clothes, and trembled from head to foot. Shortly afterward, the door opened a second time, and some one entered, who said: 'Good evening my little wife.' Presently, the curtains were withdrawn, and she heard a struggle and a stifled cry. The figure in bed beside her seemed to raise itself to a sitting posture, and to stretch its arms forward. She then turned her head and saw, as she says, her husband on his knees upon the bed, his head as high as the pillow, in the arms of a sort of greenish-colored giant, who embraced him with great force. She says, and the poor creature has repeated it to me at least twenty times—she says, that she recognized—can you guess what?—the bronze Venus; the statue of Monsieur Peyrade! Since this piece of sculpture has been here, every body, I think, has gone mad. But I am merely repeating the narration of the unhappy lunatic. At this spectacle, she became senseless, and probably for some moments lost her reason. How long she remained in this swoon she can form no idea. When she came to herself, she again saw the phantom, or the statue, as she persists in calling it, immovable, the lower part of the body in bed, the bust and arms extended forward; and between the arms, her husband lifeless and motionless. A cock crowed; on which the statue got out of bed, let fall the dead body, and departed. Madame Alphonse pulled the night-bell, and you know what followed.'
They brought in the Spaniard; he was composed, and defended himself with much coolness and presence of mind. He did not deny the speech I had overheard, but explained it, by saying that he only meant that on the morrow, when he was rested, he would beat his antagonist at a game of tennis. I remember, that he added, 'An Arragonian, when insulted, does not wait until the next day for revenge: had I thought Monsieur Alphonse meant to insult me, he would have had my knife in his body on the spot.'
They compared his shoes with the print of the footsteps in the garden; the shoes were much larger. Beside this, the innkeeper with whom the man lodged, testified that he had passed the whole of the night in rubbing and giving medicines to one of his mules that was sick. It was also proved that this Arragonian was a man of good character, and well known in the neighborhood around, which he visited every year for purposes of traffic. He was accordingly released, with an apology for his detention.
I had almost forgotten the testimony of a domestic, who was thelast person that saw Monsieur Alphonse alive. At the moment he was about going to his wife's chamber, he called to this man, and in an agitated manner, asked him if he knew where I was. The domestic replied that he had not seen me; upon which Monsieur Alphonse gave a heavy sigh, and remained for more than a minute without speaking; he then exclaimed, wildly: 'Come on, then! the devil must have carried him off too!'
I asked this man if Monsieur Alphonse had on his diamond ring when he spoke to him. The domestic paused before replying: he at length said, that he believed not; but that he had not paid particular attention. 'But,' added he, correcting himself, 'if the ring had been on his finger, I should doubtless have noticed it, for I believed that he had given it to Madame Alphonse.'
While questioning this man, I felt a little of the superstitious terror which the deposition of Madame Alphonse had spread through the house, creeping over me; but observing the king's attorney looking at me with a smile of peculiar meaning, I refrained from farther inquiry.
A few hours after the funeral rites of Monsieur Alphonse, which so closely succeeded those of his marriage, had been performed, I made my arrangements to quit Ille. The carriage of Monsieur Peyrade was to convey me to Perpignan. In spite of his feebleness and distress, the poor old man insisted upon accompanying me as far as the garden gate. We walked in silence, he leaning heavily on my arm, and dragging himself along with difficulty. At the moment of our separation, I cast a last look upon the fatal Venus. I well foresaw that my host, though he did not partake of the terror and hatred with which she inspired the greater part of his family, would be very willing to get rid of an object, which incessantly recalled so frightful a calamity. My intention was to persuade him to place it in a museum. As I hesitated about opening the subject, Monsieur Peyrade turned his head mechanically in the direction, toward which he saw me looking so fixedly. He saw the statue, and immediately burst into tears. I embraced him, and without venturing to say a single word, entered the carriage.
Since my departure, I have not learned that any thing has transpired to throw light upon this mysterious catastrophe.
Monsieur Peyrade died a few months after his son. By his will, he bequeathed me his manuscripts, which I may possibly some day publish. I did not, however, find among them the memoir relating to the inscriptions on the Venus.
P. S. My friend Monsieur de P—— has just written to me from Perpignan, informing me that the statue is no longer in existence. After the death of her husband, the first care of Madame Peyrade was to have it cast into a bell, under which new form it now serves the church of Ille. But, added Monsieur de P——, it seems as if bad luck continues to attend the possessors of this bronze. Since this bell has sounded at Ille, the vines have been twice frozen.