Part 45 (1/2)

--You ought to humble yourself before G.o.d. If you wanted a young girl, if your immoderate appet.i.tes were not satisfied with what you had under your nose, is there no cautious person in the village who would have been proud and happy to be of service to you, and whom you could have married to some clodhopper or to some Chrysostom ready for the opportunity; whilst that one, whom will you give her to? There will be an uproar, I tell you, and that will be abomination.

--Really, uncle, said Marcel pale with anger, if anyone heard us, would they believe that they were listening to the conversation of two ecclesiastics? you talk of these shameful things as if you were talking of the Gospel. In fact, I do not know which to be the more astonished at, the freedom of your talk or the sad opinion which you have of me. But I see whence all this emanates. Do you take me then for a bad priest?

--What is that? Do you take me for a simpleton? for one of Moliere's uncles?... Enough of playing a farce. You do not take me in, my good fellow. I told you yesterday that you were cleverer than I; you did not see then that I was joking? Your mask is still too transparent. One sees the tears behind the grinning face. No tragic aim. Come down from this stage on which you strut in such a ridiculous manner, and let us talk seriously like plain citizens.

--Or bad priests!

--Be silent. The bad priests, that is to say the clumsy priests, which is all the same, are in your ca.s.sock; and the clumsy ones are those who allow themselves to be caught. You have been caught, my son; and caught by whom?

by your cook. Ha! Ha!

--Are you not ashamed to listen to the tale-bearing and calumny of that horrible woman?

--Horrible! Be quiet, you are blind. It is your conduct which is horrible.

To concoct such intrigues!

--I concoct no intrigue. And when that does occur; when my feelings of respect, of esteem, of friends.h.i.+p for a young person endowed with virtues and graces, change into a sweeter feeling: at all events, if my position compels me to conceal my inclinations from the world, I shall have no need to blush for them when face to face with myself, that is to say: with my dignity as a man. While your allusions, your instigation to certain intimacies, which in order to be more closely hidden are only the more abominable and degrading, inspire me only with disgust.

--Oh, Holy Spirit, enlighten him. He is wandering, he is a triple fool.

When I suspected, when I discovered, when I saw that you were entering on a perilous path, I gave you yesterday the advice which a priest of my age has the right to give to one of yours, especially when he is, as I am, regardful of his future.

--I am as regardful of it as you.

--Cease your idle words. Have you decided to go?

--No, uncle, I am well off here, and I stay here.

--Well off! Mouldy in your vices and obscurity. Wallowing, like Job, on your dung-heap. Roll yourself in your filth: for my part I know what course remains for me to take.

--You will do what you think proper.

--I am sure of it. But you, instead of having the excellent cure which was destined for you, you shall have one lower still than this where you can wallow at your ease in your idleness, your nothingness and your vices, for, I swear to you by my blessed patron, that if I go away without you, you shall not remain here for forty-eight hours. I will have you recalled by the Bishop. You laugh. You know me all the same; you know when I say _yes_ it is _yes_. A word is enough for Monseigneur, you know. _Magister dixit_.

Marcel knew the character of the old Cure well enough to know that he was capable of keeping his word. Fearing to irritate him more by his obstinacy, he thought it better to appear to yield.

--It is time for Ma.s.s, he said. We will talk about that again.

--Go, my son, and pray to the Holy Spirit.

LXXV.

DURING Ma.s.s.

”I have my rights of love and portion of the sun; Let us together flee ...”

A. DE VIGNY (_La Prison_).