the sublimest human reason builds its castles and temples
in the air and, truly, M. d’Asterac is a pretty
good gatherer of clouds. Truth is in God alone,
never forget it, my boy. But this is really the
book ‘Jmoreth’ written by Zosimus the Panopolitan
for his sister Theosebia. What a glory and what
a delight to read this unique MS. rediscovered by
a kind of prodigy! I’ll give it my days
and night watches. How I pity, my boy, the ignorant
fellows whom idleness drives into debauchery!
What a miserable life they lead! What is a woman
in comparison with an Alexandrian papyrus? Compare,
if you please, this noble library with the tavern of
the Little Bacchus and the entertainment of
this precious MS. with the caresses given to a wench
under the bower; and tell me, my boy, where true contentment
is to be found. For me, a companion of the Muses,
and admitted to the silent orgies of meditation of
which the rhetor of Madama speaks with so much eloquence,
I thank God for having made me a respectable man.”
CHAPTER IX
At Work on Zosimus the Panopolitan—I visit
my Home and hear Gossip about M. d’Asterac.
During all the next month or six weeks, M. Coignard
applied himself, day and night, just as he had promised,
to the reading of Zosimus the Panopolitan. During
the meals we partook of at the table of M. d’Asterac
the conversation turned on the opinions of the gnostics
and on the knowledge of the ancient Egyptians.
Being only an ignorant scholar I was of little use
to my good master. I did my best by making such
researches as he wanted me to make; I took no little
pleasure in it. Truly, we lived happily and quietly.
At about the seventh week, M. d’Asterac gave
me leave to go and see my parents at their cookshop.
The shop appeared strangely smaller to me. My
mother was there alone and sad. She cried aloud
on seeing me fitted out like a prince.
“My Jacques,” she said, “I am very
happy!”
And she began to cry. We embraced, then wiping
her eyes with a corner of her canvas apron she said:
“Your father is at the Little Bacchus.
Since you left he often goes there; in your absence
the house is less pleasant for him. He’ll
be glad to see you again. But say, my Jacques,
are you satisfied with your new position? I regretted
letting you go with that nobleman; I even accused
myself in confession to the third vicar of giving
preference to your bodily well-being over that of
your soul and not having thought of God in establishing
you. The third vicar reproved me kindly over
it, and exhorted me to follow the example of the pious
women in the Scriptures, of whom he named several
to me; but there are names there that I’ll never
be able to remember. He did not explain his meaning
minutely as it was a Saturday evening and the church
was full of penitents.”
I reassured my good mother as well as I could and
told her that M. d’Asterac made me work in Greek,
which was the language in which the New Testament
was written; this pleased her, but she remained pensive.
Copyrights
The Queen Pedauque from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
