Voltaire's Romances, Complete in One VolumeVoltaire
Philosophy
Voltaire's Romances, Complete in One Volume
Voltaire
French fiction -- Translations into English
"Art thou a god descended upon earth? Art thou the great Oromasdes
concealed under this beautiful plumage? If thou art, restore me this
charming young man."
"I am nothing but a winged animal," replied the bird; "but I was born at
the time when all animals still spoke; when birds, serpents, asses,
horses, and griffins, conversed familiarly with man. I would not speak
before company, lest your ladies of honor should have taken me for a
sorcerer. I would not discover myself to any but you."
Formosanta was speechless, bewildered, and intoxicated with so many
wonders. Desirous of putting a hundred questions to him at once, she at
length asked him how old he was.
"Only twenty-seven thousand nine hundred years and six months. I date my
age from the little revolution of the equinoxes, and which is
accomplished in about twenty-eight thousand of your years. There are
revolutions of a much greater extent, so are there beings much older
than me. It is twenty-two thousand years since I learnt Chaldean in one
of my travels. I have always had a very great taste for the Chaldean
language, but my brethren, the other animals, have renounced speaking in
your climate."
"And why so, my divine bird?"
"Alas! because men have accustomed themselves to eat us, instead of
conversing and instructing themselves with us. Barbarians! should they
not have been convinced, that having the same organs with them, the same
sentiments, the same wants, the same desires, we have also what is
called a soul, the same as themselves;--that we are their brothers, and
that none should be dressed and eaten but the wicked? We are so far your
brothers, that the Supreme Being, the Omnipotent and Eternal Being,
having made a compact with men, expressly comprehended us in the treaty.
He forbade you to nourish yourselves with our blood, and we to suck
yours.
"The fables of your ancient Locman, translated into so many languages,
will be a testimony eternally subsisting of the happy commerce you
formerly carried on with us. They all begin with these words: 'In the
time when beasts spoke.' It is true, there are many families among you
who keep up an incessant conversation with their dogs; but the dogs have
resolved not to answer, since they have been compelled by whipping to go
a hunting, and become accomplices in the murder of our ancient and
common friends, stags, deers, hares, and partridges.
"You have still some ancient poems in which horses speak, and your
coachmen daily address them in words; but in so barbarous a manner, and
in uttering such infamous expressions, that horses, though formerly
entertaining so great a kindness for you, now detest you.
"The country which is the residence of your charming stranger, the most
perfect of men, is the only one in which your species has continued to
love ours, and to converse with us; and this is the only country in the
world where men are just."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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