Women -- France -- Fiction; Women's rights -- Fiction
“This attack is not serious,” he said. “Mademoiselle de Mauprat has had
several of the same kind during the last few days and on her way here.
After each her mental faculties have taken a more and more favourable
turn.”
“Go and attend to the invalid,” said the president. “She shall be
recalled in two hours, if you think she will have recovered from her
swoon by then. Meanwhile the court will hear the witness on whose demand
the first sentence was not carried out.”
Arthur withdrew and Patience was introduced. He was dressed quite
neatly; but, after saying a few words, he declared that it would be
impossible to continue unless they allowed him to take off his coat.
This borrowed finery so embarrassed him and seemed so heavy that he
was perspiring profusely. No sooner did the president make a sign of
consent, accompanied by a smile of scorn, than he threw to the ground
this badge of civilization. Then, after carefully pulling down his
shirt-sleeves over his sinewy arms, he spoke almost as follows:
“I will speak the truth, the whole truth. I take the oath for the second
time; for I have to speak of things that seem contradictory, things that
I cannot explain to myself. I swear before God and man that I will say
what I know, and as I know it, without being influenced for or against
any one.”
He lifted his big hand and turned round towards the people with a simple
confidence, as if to say, “You can all see that I am taking an oath,
and you know that I am to be trusted.” This confidence of his was not
ill-founded. Since the incident in the first trial the public mind had
been much occupied about this extraordinary man, who had spoken before
the court with so much daring, and harangued the people in presence
of the judges. His conduct had filled all the democrats and
_Philadelphians_ with great curiosity and sympathy. The works of
Beaumarchais were very fashionable among the upper classes, and this
will explain how it was that Patience, though opposed to all the
authorities in the province, yet found himself supported and applauded
by every man who prided himself on his intelligence. They all thought
they saw in him Figaro under a new form. The fame of his private virtues
had spread; for you remember that during my stay in America, Patience
had made himself known among the people of Varenne and had exchanged his
sorcerer’s reputation for that of a public benefactor. They had given
him the title of the _great judge_, because he was always ready to
intervene in disputes, and would always settle to the satisfaction of
both sides with admirable good-nature and tact.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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