French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
"My son, the nature of men and animals, of plants and stones, is the
secret of the immortal gods, and I know as little as yourself what is
the reason of these horns wherewith my brow is decked, and which the
Nymphs used in olden days to wind about with garlands of flowers. I
cannot tell you the meaning of the two wrinkled folds that droop from my
neck, nor why I have the feet of a wanton goat. But I would have you
know, my son, there was once in these woods a race of women having
horned brows like mine and shaggy thighs. Yet were their bosoms round
and white, and their belly and polished loins shone in the light. The
sun was young then, and loved to fleck them with his golden arrows, as
they lay beneath the shady foliage. They were very fair, my son; but
alas! they have vanished from the woods, every one. My mates have
perished likewise, and I am left lonely, the last of my tribe."
"I would fain know your age, old man, and your lineage and country."
"My son, I was born of the Earth long ere Jupiter had dethroned Saturn,
and my eyes have looked upon the flowery freshness of the new-created
World. Not yet had the human race emerged from the clay. Alone with me,
the dancing Satyr girls set the ground ringing with the rhythmic beat of
their double hoofs. They were taller and stronger and fairer than either
Nymphs or Women; and their ampler loins received abundantly the seed of
the first-born of Earth.
"Under the reign of Jupiter the Nymphs began to inhabit fountains and
forests and mountains; while the Fauns, accoupling with the Nymphs,
formed light-footed bands that roamed the woods together. Meantime I
spent a happy life, tasting at will the clusters of the wild grapes and
the lips of the laughing Faun-girls. I enjoyed deep and restful slumbers
amid the lush grass; and I would celebrate on my rustic flute Jupiter,
Saturn's successor, for it is of my nature to praise the gods, masters
of the world.
"Alas! and I am grown old, for I am but a god, and the centuries have
blanched the hairs of my head and of my bosom, and have extinguished the
fire of my reins. I was already heavily weighted with years when the
Great Pan died, and Jupiter, meeting the same lot he had laid upon
Saturn, was dethroned by the Galilean. Since then I have dragged out an
ever-flagging life, so feeble and languid that at last it fell out I
died, and was entombed. And verily I am now but the shadow of myself. If
I still exist a little, it is because nothing ever really perishes, and
none is suffered altogether to die out. Death must never be more perfect
and complete than life. Beings lost in the Ocean of Things are like the
waves you may watch, my child, rising and falling in the Adriatic Sea.
They have neither beginning nor end, they are born and die insensibly.
Insensibly as the waves, my soul passes. A faint far-off memory of the
satyr girls of the Golden Age yet brightens my eyes, and on my lips
float soundlessly the ancient hymns of praise."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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