Three short works: The Dance of Death, the Legend of Saint Julian the Hospitaller, a Simple Soul.Flaubert, Gustave
General
Three short works: The Dance of Death, the Legend of Saint Julian the Hospitaller, a Simple Soul.
Flaubert, Gustave
France -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
Fountains played in the spacious halls; the courts were inlaid
with mosaic; there were festooned partitions and a great profusion
of architectural fancies; and everywhere reigned a silence so deep
that the swish of a sash or the echo of a sigh could be distinctly
heard.
Julian now had renounced war. Surrounded by a peaceful people, he
remained idle, receiving every day a throng of subjects who came
and knelt before him and kissed his hand in Oriental fashion.
Clad in sumptuous garments, he would gaze out of the window and
think of his past exploits; and wish that he might again run in
the desert in pursuit of ostriches and gazelles, hide among the
bamboos to watch for leopards, ride through forests filled with
rhinoceroses, climb the most inaccessible peaks in order to have a
better aim at the eagles, and fight the polar bears on the
icebergs of the northern sea.
Sometimes, in his dreams, he fancied himself like Adam in the
midst of Paradise, surrounded by all the beasts; by merely
extending his arm, he was able to kill them; or else they filed
past him, in pairs, by order of size, from the lions and the
elephants to the ermines and the ducks, as on the day they entered
Noah's Ark.
Hidden in the shadow of a cave, he aimed unerring arrows at them;
then came others and still others, until he awoke, wild-eyed.
Princes, friends of his, invited him to their meets, but he always
refused their invitations, because he thought that by this kind of
penance he might possibly avert the threatened misfortune; it
seemed to him that the fate of his parents depended on his refusal
to slaughter animals. He suffered because he could not see them,
and his other desire was growing well-nigh unbearable.
In order to divert his mind, his wife had dancers and jugglers
come to the castle.
She went abroad with him in an open litter; at other times,
stretched out on the edge of a boat, they watched for hours the
fish disport themselves in the water, which was as clear as the
sky. Often she playfully threw flowers at him or nestling at his
feet, she played melodies on an old mandolin; then, clasping her
hands on his shoulder, she would inquire tremulously: "What
troubles thee, my dear lord?"
He would not reply, or else he would burst into tears; but at
last, one day, he confessed his fearful dread.
His wife scorned the idea and reasoned wisely with him: probably
his father and mother were dead; and even if he should ever see
them again, through what chance, to what end, would he arrive at
this abomination? Therefore, his fears were groundless, and he
should hunt again.
Julian listened to her and smiled, but he could not bring himself
to yield to his desire.
One August evening when they were in their bed-chamber, she having
just retired and he being about to kneel in prayer, he heard the
yelping of a fox and light footsteps under the window; and he
thought he saw things in the dark that looked like animals. The
temptation was too strong. He seized his quiver.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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