Baudelaire: His Prose and PoetryBaudelaire, Charles
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Baudelaire: His Prose and Poetry
Baudelaire, Charles
Baudelaire, Charles, 1821-1867; French literature -- 19th century
"DRINK OF THIS MY BLOOD: A PERFECT RESTORATIVE";
and in his left hand held a violin that without doubt served to sing
his pleasures and pains, and to spread abroad the contagion of his
folly upon the nights of the Sabbath.
From rings upon his delicate ankles trailed a broken chain of gold, and
when the burden of this caused him to bend his eyes towards the earth,
he would contemplate with vanity the nails of his feet, as brilliant
and polished as well-wrought jewels.
He looked at me with eyes inconsolably heart-broken and giving forth
an insidious intoxication, and cried in a chanting voice: "If thou
wilt, if thou wilt, I will make thee an overlord of souls; thou shalt
be master of living matter more perfectly than the sculptor is master
of his clay; thou shalt taste the pleasure, reborn without end, of
obliterating thyself in the self of another, and of luring other souls
to lose themselves in thine."
But I replied to him: "I thank thee. I only gain from this venture,
then, beings of no more worth than my poor self? Though remembrance
brings me shame indeed, I would forget nothing; and even before I
recognised thee, thou ancient monster, thy mysterious cutlery, thy
equivocal phials, and the chain that imprisons thy feet, were symbols
showing clearly enough the inconvenience of thy friendship. Keep thy
gifts."
The second Satan had neither the air at once tragical and smiling, the
lovely insinuating ways, nor the delicate and scented beauty of the
first. A gigantic man, with a coarse, eyeless face, his heavy paunch
overhung his hips and was gilded and pictured, like a tattooing, with
a crowd of little moving figures which represented the unnumbered
forms of universal misery. There were little sinew-shrunken men who
hung themselves willingly from nails; there were meagre gnomes,
deformed and undersized, whose beseeching eyes begged an alms even
more eloquently than their trembling hands; there were old mothers who
nursed clinging abortions at their pendent breasts. And many others,
even more surprising.
This heavy Satan beat with his fist upon his immense belly, from
whence came a loud and resounding metallic clangour, which died away
in a sighing made by many human voices. And he smiled unrestrainedly,
showing his broken teeth--the imbecile smile of a man who has dined too
freely. Then the creature said to me:
"I can give thee that which gets all, which is worth all, which takes
the place of all." And he tapped his monstrous paunch, whence came
a sonorous echo as the commentary to his obscene speech. I turned
away with disgust and replied: "I need no man's misery to bring me
happiness; nor will I have the sad wealth of all the misfortunes
pictured upon thy skin as upon a tapestry."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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