第136章 TOULAN.(3)
- Marie Antoinette And Her Son
- Louise Muhlbach
- 4966字
- 2016-03-03 17:39:27
He took a chair, seated himself in the middle of the room, and rolled out great clouds of smoke, which filled Simon with unspeakable delight when they compelled Marie Antoinette to cough violently.
"Madame Capet, you would not be so sensitive to smoke if you would only join me. I beg you, therefore, to take this cigar."
The queen repeated calmly, "I do not smoke."
"You mistake, madame, you do smoke."
"See the jolly fellow," exclaimed Simon, "that is splendid."
"I will show you at once that you do smoke," continued Toulan.
"Madame, if you will do me the honor to join me in smoking a cigar, I will give you my word as a republican and a sans-culottes, that neither I nor my brothers will ever smoke here again."
"I do not believe you," said the queen, shaking her head.
"Not believe me? Would you believe it if the citizen Simon were to repeat it?"
"Yes," said the queen, fixing her great, sad eyes upon Simon, "if the citizen Simon should confirm it, I would believe it, for he is a trustworthy man, who I believe; never breaks his word."
"Oh! only see how well the Austrian understands our noble brother Simon," cried Lepitre.
"Yes, truly, it seems so," said Simon, who had been flattered by this praise to consent to what he had no inclination for. "Well, I give my word to Widow Capet, as a republican and a sans-culottes, that there shall be no smoking in the anteroom after this time, if she will do my friend Toulan the favor of smoking a pipe of peace with him."
"I believe your word," said the queen, with a gentle inclination of her head; and then turning to Toulan, she continued, "sir--"
"There are no 'sirs' here, only 'citizens,'" interrupted the cobbler.
"Citizen Toulan," said the queen, changing her expression, "give me the cigar, I see that I was wrong, I do smoke!"
Simon cried aloud with laughter and delight, and could scarcely control himself, when, kneeling before the queen, as the players do in the grand plays at the theatre, he handed her a cigar.
But he did not see the supplicatory look which Toulan fixed upon the queen; he did not see the tears which started into his eyes, nor hear her say, during his inordinate peals of laughter, "I thank you, my faithful one!"
"Is it enough if I take the cigar in my mouth, or must I burn it?" asked the queen.
"Certainly, she must burn it," cried Simon. "Light the cigar for her, Citizen Toulan."
Toulan drew a bit of paper from his pocket, folded it together, kindled it, and gave it to the queen. Then, as soon as the dry cigar began to burn, he put out the light, and threw it carelessly upon the table.
The queen put the little smoking cigarette into her mouth. "Bravo, bravo!" shouted the officials and Simon.
"Bravo, Citizen Toulan is a perfect brick! He has taught Widow Capet how to smoke."
"I told you I would," said Toulan, proudly. "Widow Capet has had to comply with our will, and that is enough. You need not go on, madame. You have acknowledged our power, and that is all we wanted.
That is enough, Simon, is it not? She does not need to smoke any longer, and we, too, must stop."
"No, she does not need to smoke any longer, and there will be no more smoking in the antechamber."
The queen took the paper cigarette from her mouth, put out the burning end, and laid the remaining portion in her work-basket.
"Citizen Toulan," said she, "I will keep this cigar as a remembrancer of this hour, and if you ever smoke here again, I shall show it to you."
"I should like to see this Austrian woman doubting the word of a sans-culottes," cried Simon.
"And I too, Simon," replied Toulan, going back into the anteroom.
"We will teach her that she must trust our word. You see that I am a good teacher."
"An excellent one," cried Simon; "I must compliment you on it, citizen. But if you have no objections, we will play a game or two of cards with the citizens here."
"All right," replied Toulan. "But I hope you have got the new kind of cards, which have no kings and queens on them. For, I tell you, I do not play with the villanous old kind."
"Nor I," chimed in Lepitre. "It makes me mad to see the old stupids with their crowns on that are on the old kind of cards."
"You are a pair of out-and-out republicans," said Simon, admiringly.
"Truly, one might learn of you how a sans-culottes ought to bear himself."
"Well, you can calm yourselves about these, brothers," said one of the officials; "we have no tyrant-cards--we have the new cards of the republic. See there! instead of the king, there is a sans-culottes; instead of the queen, we have a 'knitter,' [Footnote: The market-women and hucksters had the privilege of claiming the first seats on the spectators' platform, near the guillotine. They sat there during the executions, knitting busily on long stockings, while looking at the bloody drama before them. Every time that a head was cut off and dropped into the basket beneath the knife, the women made a mark in their knitting-work, and thus converted their stockings into a kind of calendar, which recorded the number of persons executed. From this circumstance the market-women received the name of "knitters."] and for the jack, we have a Swiss soldier, for they were the menials of the old monarchy." [Footnote:
Historical.-See "Memoires de la Marquise de Crequi," vol. III.]
"That is good; well, we will play then," cried Toulan, with an air of good-humor.
They all took their places at the table, while the queen took up the sewing on which the princesses had been engaged before.
After some time, when the thread with which she was sewing was exhausted, Marie Antoinette raised her eyes and turned them to the men, who had laid their pipes aside, and were zealously engaged upon their cards. The mien of the queen was no longer so calm and rigidly composed as it had been before, and when she spoke, there was a slight quivering discernible in her voice.
"Citizen Toulan," she said, "I beg you to give me the ball of thread again. I have no more, and this dress is in a wretched condition; I must mend it."
Toulan turned toward her with a gesture of impatience.