Читать книгу Stories for Ninon + New Stories for Ninon (Unabridged) - Emile Zola - Страница 8

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HERE already are many sunbeams, many flowers, many perfumes. Are you not tired, Ninon, of this everlasting spring? Always loving, always chaunting that dream of sixteen summers. You fall asleep at night, naughty girl, when I talk to you at great length of the coquetry of the rose, and the infidelity of the dragon-fly. You close your great eyes wearily, and I, who no longer find inspiration there, stammer on, without coming to a conclusion.

I’ll vanquish your idle eyelids, Ninon. To-day I am going to relate such a terrible tale to you, that you’ll not close them for a week. Listen. Terror is delicious after a deal of laughter.

I

Four soldiers, on the night of a victory, had encamped in a deserted corner of the battlefield. Night had come, and they were supping joyously among the dead.

Seated on the grass round a camp fire, they were grilling slices of lamb on the burning embers, and eating them when only half done. The red glare of the fire threw a faint light over the companions, casting their gigantic shadows to a distance. Every now and then, the arms lying around them, slightly flashed, and then amidst the night, one perceived men sleeping with their eyes open.

The soldiers laughed with long peals of merriment, without perceiving the staring gaze that was fixed upon them. The day had been a hard one. Not knowing what the morrow reserved for them, they were enjoying the rations and repose of the moment.

Night and Death flew across the battlefield, their great wings agitating its silence and horror.

When the meal was over, Gneuss sang. His sonorous voice uttered false notes in the sad, mournful air; the song, which burst joyfully from his lips, echoed in sobs. Astounded at these accents issuing from his mouth, and which he failed to recognise, the soldier sang in a higher key, when a terrible cry, proceeding from the darkness, sped through space.

Gneuss was silent, as if seized with uneasiness, and said to Elberg:

“Go and see what corpse is awakening.”

Elberg took a flaming brand and disappeared. His companions were able to follow him for a few instants by the light of the torch. They saw him stoop down, examining the dead, piercing the bushes with his sword. Then he disappeared.

“Clérian,” said Gneuss after a silence, “the wolves are wandering about tonight: go and look for our friend.”

And Clérian in his turn was lost in the darkness.

Gneuss and Flem, tired of waiting, wrapped themselves up in their cloaks and both lay down beside the smouldering fire. Their eyes were just closing, when the same terrible cry passed over their heads. Flem arose in silence, and walked towards the darkness where his two companions had disappeared.

Then Gneuss found himself alone. He was afraid, afraid of the darkness through which ran the death-rattle. He threw some dry roots on to the fire, hoping that the bright light would dispel his fright. A red flame burst out, and the ground was lit up in a wide luminous circle; in this circle, the bushes were dancing fantastically, and the dead, sleeping in the shadow of them, seemed shaken by invisible hands.

Gneuss was afraid of the light He spread out the flaming stalks, and extinguished them beneath his heels. As the darkness returned, more dense and weighty, he shuddered, dreading to hear the cry of death pass by. He sat down, then rose up to call his companions.

The high notes of his voice frightened him; and he feared he had attracted the attention of the corpses.

The moon appeared, and Gneuss, terrified, noticed a pale beam of light gliding across the battlefield. Night no longer hid its abominations. The devastated plain, strewn with fragments and corpses, extended before his eyes, wrapped in a winding-sheet of light; and this light, which was not the light of day, lit up the darkness without dispelling its silent horror.

Gneuss, erect, his forehead bathed in perspiration, thought of ascending the hillock to extinguish the pale torch of night. He wondered what the dead were waiting for, to arise and surround him, now that they saw him. Their immobility caused him anguish; and expecting some terrible event to happen, he closed his eyes.

And, as he stood there, he felt a tepid warmth at his left heel. He bent down towards the ground, and saw a narrow streak of blood escaping from beneath his feet. This streak bounding from stone to stone, ran along with a merry murmur; it came out of the darkness, twirled about in the light of the moon, to fly away and return into the night; one would have taken it for a serpent with black scales, the rings gliding along and following one another without end. Gneuss’ started back without being able to close his eyes again; they kept wide open, fixed on the sanguinary brook.

He saw it slowly swell, increase the breadth of its bed. The brook became a stream, a slow and peaceful stream that a child could have cleared at a bound. The stream became a torrent, and passed rumbling over the ground, casting a reddish spray on either side. The torrent became a river, an immense river.

This river bore away the corpses, and this blood which had poured from the wounds in such abundance that it carried away the dead, was a horrible prodigy.

Gneuss continued to retreat before the rising flood. He could no longer see its opposite bank; it seemed to him that the valley had changed into a lake.

All at once he found himself with his back against a rocky slope; he had to pause in his flight. Then he felt the waves beating against his knees. The dead, who were borne along by the current, insulted him as they passed by; each of their wounds became a mouth, that jeered at his fright. The thick ocean rose, continued rising; now it moaned around his hips. He made a supreme effort, and stretching up, clutched the crevices in the rocks; the rocks gave way, he fell, and the flood covered his shoulders.

The pale, sad moon looked down upon this sea, and fell on it without reflex. Light floated in the sky. The immense expanse of firmament, full of shadows and riotous sounds, seemed like the gaping opening to an abyss.

The wave rose, rose and reddened Gneuss’ lips with its foam.

II

Elberg’s arrival at daybreak awakened Gneuss, who was sleeping with his head on a stone.

“Friend,” he said, “I lost myself in the bush. As I was sitting at the foot of a tree, sleep overcame me, and my soul’s eyes saw strange scenes unrolled before them, which remained impressed on my memory when I awoke.

“The world was in its infancy. The sky resembled an immense smile. The earth, which was still virgin, expanded its chaste nudity, in the rays of the May sun. The blade of grass grew green and larger than the largest of our oaks; the trees spread leaves out into the air, that are unknown to us. The sap coursed copiously in the veins of the world, and its flood was so abundant, that being unable to limit itself to the plants, it streamed into the entrails of the rocks and gave them life.

“The horizons extended calm and radiant. Holy nature was awakening. Like the child who kneels down in the morning, and thanks the God of light, it poured out all its perfumes, all its songs to heaven, penetrating perfumes, unutterable songs, which my senses could hardly bear, so divine was the impression they produced on me.

“Sweet and fruitful earth, engendered without pain. Fruit-trees multiplied at will. Fields of corn bordered the highways, as fields of nettles do now. One felt in the air that human toil was not mingled with the breath of heaven. The Almighty alone worked for his children.

“Man, like the bird, lived on the food Providence gave him. He went about blessing God, picking fruit from the trees, drinking water at the spring, sheltered at night beneath the foliage. His lips had a horror of flesh; he knew not what the taste of blood was like, he found savour only in such viands as dew and sun prepared for his meals.

“It was thus that man remained innocent, and that his innocence crowned him king of the other animals of creation. Concord reigned everywhere. The world was of inconceivable whiteness, and was rocked in infinity by inconceivable supreme peace. The birds’ wings did not beat to fly away; the thickets in the forests were not places of refuge. All God’s creatures lived in the sun, and formed but one people, having but one law — goodness.

“I walked among these people, amidst this nature, and felt myself becoming stronger and better. My chest inhaled a full provision of the air of heaven. Suddenly leaving our impure winds for these breezes of a less infected world, I experienced the delicious sensation of a miner ascending to the open air.

“As the angel of dreams continued rocking me in my sleep, this is what my mind saw in a forest where it seemed lost.

“Two men followed a narrow path lost in the foliage. The younger walked in front; happiness beaming upon his lips, and his eyes having a caress for each blade of grass. Sometimes he turned round and smiled at his companion. I know not by what sweet expression it was that I recognised the smile was that of a brother.

“The lips and eyes of the other man continued mute and gloomy. He cast a look of hatred upon the youth, hastening on, stumbling behind him. He seemed to be pursuing a victim who did not fly. I saw him cut a tree which he roughly fashioned into a club. Then fearing to lose his companion, he ran, hiding his weapon behind him. The young man who had sat down to wait for him, arose at his approach, and kissed him on the forehead, as if after a long absence. They set out walking again. Daylight was drawing in. The child perceiving in the distance, between the large trunks of the forest, the soft lines of a hill that looked yellow in the sun’s farewell, hastened on. The gloomy man thought he was flying, and raised the club.

“His young brother turned round with a happy word of encouragement on his lips. The club smashed his face and blood spurted from it. The blade of grass which received the first drop, shook it with horror on the earth. Earth, shuddering and terrified, swallowed this drop; a long cry of repugnance escaped from its bosom, and the sand on the path turned the hideous beverage into bloodstained moss.

“At the victim’s cry, I noticed the creatures disperse in terror. They fled all over the world, avoiding the roads; they gathered together in the glades, and the strongest attacked the weakest. I saw them when alone, polishing their fangs and sharpening their claws. The great brigandage of creation was commencing.

“Then passed before me an everlasting flight The hawk pounced on the swallow, the swallow seized the fly on the wing, the fly settled on the corpse. From worm to lion, all creatures found themselves threatened. The world bit its tail, and went on devouring itself for evermore.

“Nature itself, struck with horror, had a prolonged convulsion. The pure lines of the horizon were broken. Sunrises and sunsets were attended by blood-like clouds; the waters heaved with eternal sobs, and the trees, twisting their branches, cast dead leaves every year upon the earth.”

III

As Elberg ceased speaking, Clérian appeared; he seated himself between his two companions and said to them:

“I know not whether I saw or dreamed what I am about to relate to you, the dream was so like reality, and reality so like a dream.

“I found myself on a road crossing the world. It was bordered by cities, and the multitudes followed it in their journeys.

“I saw the paving stones were black. My feet slid, and I perceived they were black with blood. The road sloped down on either side; a brook of thick, red water ran in the centre of it.

“I followed this road on which a crowd was stirring. I went from group to group, watching life pass before me.

“Here fathers sacrificed their daughters whose blood they had promised to some monstrous divinity. The fair heads bowed beneath the knife, and turned pale at the embrace of death.

“There proud, trembling virgins killed themselves, to escape the kiss of shame, and the tomb was the white raiment of their virginity.

“Further on, lovers died amid kisses. This one, weeping at being abandoned, expired at the waterside, her eyes fixed on the flood which had borne away her heart; that one, murdered in the arms of her lover, met her end clinging to his neck, and both expired in a supreme strain.

“Further on, men tired of darkness and misery, sent their souls to seek, in a better world, the liberty they had searched for, in vain, on this earth.

“Everywhere, the feet of kings left sanguinary imprints on the stones. This one walked in the blood of his brothers; that one, in the blood of his people; this other, in the blood of his God. Their crimson footprints in the dust made the people exclaim: ‘A king had been this way.’

“The priests slaughtered victims; then stupidly bending over their palpitating entrails, pretended they read the secrets of heaven there. They wore swords beneath their robes, and preached warfare in the name of their god. Nations at their bidding set upon one another, devouring each other for the glorification of the common Father.

“All humanity was intoxicated; it battered down walls, wallowed on the flagstones soiled with hideous mire. With closed eyes and grasping a double-edged blade in both hands, it struck into the night and massacred.

“A damp breath of carnage passed over the crowd which was hidden in the distance in a reddish mist. It ran, borne along in an outburst of panic, it plunged into orgies with shouts that continued increasing in fury. It trampled on those who fell, and made their wounds yield the last drops of blood. It panted with rage, cursing the corpse, when it could no longer tear a groan from it.

“The earth drank, drank eagerly; its bowels ceased to feel repugnance for the bitter liquor. Like a being degraded by intoxication, it gorged itself with lees.

“I hastened on, anxious not to see my brethren any more. The dark road continued stretching ahead as broad as ever at each new horizon; the stream I was following seemed to be bearing the sanguinary flood to some unknown sea.

“And as I advanced, I saw nature becoming sombre and harsh. The bosom of the plains was profoundly lacerated. Masses of rock divided the ground into sterile hills and dismal dells. The hills rose higher and higher, the dells sank deeper and deeper; stone became mountains, the fields a chasm.

“There was not a leaf, not a piece of moss; naught but barren rocks with the summits bleached by the sun and the base gloomy and overshadowed. The road passed through these rocks and was enshrouded in deathlike silence.

“At last it made a sudden bend, and I found myself on a dismal site.

“Four mountains, resting heavily against one another, formed an immense basin. Their sides, which were steep and smooth, towered up like the walls of a cyclopean city and formed a gigantic well, the breadth of which extended to the horizon.

“And this well, into which the stream discharged itself, was full of blood. The thick, smooth ocean rose slowly from the chasm. It seemed sleeping in its rocky bed. The sky reflected it in purple clouds.

“I then understood that all the blood spilt by violence was running there. From the first murder, each wound had shed its tears into this pit, and tears had poured in there in such abundance, that the pit was full.”

“Last night,” said Gneuss, “I saw a torrent that was running into this accursed lake.”

“Struck with horror,” resumed Clérian, “I approached the brink, judging the depth of the flood with the eye. I could tell by the dull sound that it penetrated to the centre of the earth. Then, glancing at the rocks forming the enclosure, I saw that the flood was approaching the top of them. The voice of the abyss cried out to me: the flood, which is rising, will continue to do so and will attain the summit of the rocks. It will rise higher, and then a river, escaping from the terrible basin, will pour down on to the plains. The mountains, weary of struggling with the flood, will sink down. The entire lake will then fall upon the world and inundate it. It is thus that men who are to come, will die drowned in the blood shed by their fathers.’”

“That day is near at hand,” said Gneuss: “the flood was high last night.”

IV

The sun was rising, when Clérian had completed the account of his dream. The sound of a bugle wafted by the morning breeze, was heard towards the north. It was the signal for the soldiers dispersed over the plain to assemble round the flag.

The three companions rose and took their arms. As they were setting out, casting a last glance at the extinguished fire, they saw Flem advancing towards them, running in the tall grass. His feet were white with dust.

“Friends,” he said, “I have ran so fast that I know not whence I come. I have seen the trees flying behind me in a disorderly dance for hours. The sound of my footsteps lulling me made me close my eyelids, and, while still running, without slackening my speed, I slept a strange sleep.

“I found myself on a desolated hill. The scorching sun fell upon the great rocks. I could not set my feet down without the flesh being burnt. I hastened to reach the summit.

“And, as I bounded onward, I perceived a man walking slowly. He was crowned with thorns; a heavy burden weighed upon his shoulders and his face was bathed in blood-like sweat He advanced slowly, stumbling at each step.

“The ground was burning hot, I could not bear his torment; I went up and waited for him beneath a tree at the top of the hill. Then I saw he was carrying a cross. By his crown, his purple robe stained with mud, it seemed to me that he was a king, and I felt great joy at his suffering.

“Soldiers were following him, hurrying him on with their iron-tipped lances. On reaching the highest rock they stripped him of his garments, and made him lie down on the forbidding timber.

“The man smiled sadly. He held his hands out wide open to the executioners, and the nails made two ghastly holes in them. Then, bringing his feet together, he crossed them, and one nail sufficed.

“He lay silent on his back gazing at the sky. Two tears coursed slowly down his cheeks, tears which he did not feel and which were lost in the submissive smile upon his lips.

“The cross was erected, the weight of the body increased the size of the wounds horribly. The crucified man gave a prolonged shudder. Then, he cast his eyes up to heaven again.

“I gazed at him. Observing his courage in the face of death, I said, ‘This man is not a king.’ Then I felt pity, and cried out to the soldiers to pierce his heart” A feathered songster was singing on the cross. Its song was sad, and sounded in my ears like the voice of a virgin in tears.

“‘Blood colours the flame,’ it sang, ‘blood gives purple to the flower, blood reddens the naked. I stood upon the sand and my claws were covered with blood; I grazed the branches of the oak and my wings were red.

“‘I met a just man and followed him. I had been bathing at the spring, and my coat was pure. My song said: Be joyful, my feathers; on this man’s shoulder you will not be soiled with the rain of murder.

“‘My song says now: Weep, warbler of Golgotha, weep for your coat stained by the blood of him who kept a shelter for thee in his bosom. He came to give the warblers back their purity, helas! and men made him wet me with the dew of his wounds.

“‘I doubt, and I weep over my soiled coat Where shall I find thy brother, O Jesus I so that he may open his linen garment to me? Ah! poor master, what son born of thee will wash my feathers reddened with your blood?’

“The crucified man listened to the warbler. The breath of death made his eyelids quiver; agony distorted his lips. He cast his eyes up towards the bird, and they bore an expression of sweet reproach; his smile was bright and as serene as hope.

“Then, he uttered a loud cry. His head fell upon his breast, and the warbler flew off, borne away in a sob. The sky turned black, earth shuddered in the darkness.

“I continued running, and I still slept. Dawn had come, the valleys were awakening, smiling in the morning mist. The storm of the night had cleared the sky, and had given greater strength to the green leaves. But the path was bordered by the same thorns as tore me on the previous evening. The same hard, sharp flints rolled beneath my feet; the same serpents stole along in the thickets, and threatened me on the way. The blood of the Just One had ran into the veins of the old world, without giving it back the innocence of its youth.

“The warbler passed overhead, and cried to me:

‘“Ah! ah! I am very sad. I cannot find a spring pure enough to bathe in. Look, the earth is as wicked as formerly. Jesus is dead, and the grass has not flowered. Ah! ah! it is but one more murder.’”

V

The bugle continued sounding the departure.

“Boys,” said Gneuss, “our calling is an unpleasant one. Our slumber is troubled by the phantoms of those whom we strike. I, like you, have felt the demon of nightmare weighing on my chest for long hours. For thirty years I have been killing, and I need sleep. Let us leave our brethren there. I know of a glen where ploughs require hands. Shall we taste the bread of toil?”

“We will,” answered his companions.

Thereupon the soldiers dug a great hole at the foot of a rock, and buried their arms. They went down and bathed in the river; then, all four arm in arm disappeared at the turn of the pathway.