Part 12 (1/2)
--Mamette, my coat!... I want to accompany him to the square.
Naturally, Mamette was quietly worried that it was a bit too cold now for him to go out, but she didn't let on; except, as she was helping him into his Spanish smoking jacket with mother of pearl b.u.t.tons, I heard the dear old soul gently saying:
--You won't be out too long, will you?
--Ah, ha! I don't know, you'll have to wait and see ... he answered, a touch mischievously.
With that, they exchanged looks and laughed, and the little blues joined in, a mood caught even by the canaries--in their chirping way.... Between ourselves, I think they had all been a bit intoxicated by the smell of the cherries.
... Night fell as the grandfather and I went out. His little blue followed us at a distance to help him home, but he never noticed her, and he was proud fit to burst, to walk on my arm like a man. Mamette, beaming, saw it from her doorstep and nodded her head as she looked in a way that seemed to say: ”Well, well, he's my very own, dear, little man!... and he still has some go in him.”
PROSE BALLADS
When I opened my door this morning, I was surprised by a great carpet of h.o.a.r-frost around the windmill. Gra.s.s sparkled and crackled like shattered gla.s.s; the whole hillside tinkled and twinkled.... For a day, my beloved Provence was dressed up as a northern land. It was here, amongst these ice-fringed pines, and clumps of lavender in crystal bouquets, that I wrote both these Germanic-style fantasies, prompted by the white frost gleaming at me and great _V_'s of storks from Heinrich Heine's land made their way in a clear sky to the Camargue screaming, ”It's cold ... it's cold ... it's cold.”
I
DEATH OF THE DAUPHIN
The little Dauphin is sick; the truth is he's dying.... In every church in the Kingdom, the blessed Sacrament is displayed night and day, and huge candles burn all the time for the recovery of the royal Child. The roads around the old residence are miserable and silent, the clocks don't chime, and the coaches go at walking pace.... Around the palace, through the railings, the curious bourgeoisie are watching some gold-draped, potbellied Swiss who are talking, self-importantly, in the courtyards.
The whole castle is troubled.... Chamberlains, and major-domos, scurry up and down the marble stairways.... The galleries are filled with silk-clad pages, and courtesans flitting from group to group seeking some whisper of news.... On the grand stairs, the weeping ladies-in-waiting hold themselves respectfully, and delicately wipe their eyes with finely embroidered handkerchiefs.
In the orangery, there were numerous gatherings of enrobed doctors.
They can be seen through the windows adjusting their long, black sleeves and carefully rearranging their wigs.... The Dauphin's governor and his equerry are pacing about in front of the door, awaiting the doctors' prognostications. Some kitchen boys walk past them, without bowing. The equerry swears like a trooper; while the governor recites some verses by Horace.... Meanwhile, a long, plaintive whinny was heard from down in the stables. It was the young Dauphin's chestnut, now forgotten by its grooms, calling mournfully over its empty manger.
And the King? Where is His Majesty the King?... The King is all alone in a room, at the far side of the castle.... Royal Highnesses don't like to be seen crying.... It is another thing altogether with the Queen.... Sitting by the bedside of the little Dauphin, her beautiful face is bathed in tears, as she sobs out loud, in front of everybody, just as any commoner would.
In his lace-covered sick-bed, the little Dauphin, whiter than the cus.h.i.+ons he lies on, has his eyes closed and looks fast asleep. But he is not. The little Dauphin turns towards his mother and seeing her in tears, says:
--Madame, why are you crying? Do you really think that I am dying?
The queen tries to answer, but the sobbing chokes her words.
--Don't upset yourself, madame. You are forgetting that I am the Dauphin and Dauphins can't die just like that....
The Queen's sobs intensify and the little Dauphin begins to feel afraid.
--Hang on, he says, I don't want death to come and take me, and I know just how to stop him from getting to me.... Have forty very strong soldiers mount guard around my bed!... Have a hundred big cannons ready under our window, tapers lit and fuses primed, day and night! And it's hard luck death if he dares to come near me!...
To please the Royal child, the Queen gives the order. Soon, big cannons are heard rolling in the courtyard, and forty tall German mercenaries, halberds at the ready, come and position themselves around the bed chamber. The little Dauphin claps his hands when he sees the old soldiers and their grey moustaches. He recognises one of them and calls out:
--Lorrain! Lorrain!
The soldier steps forward towards the bed: