"The reproach is severe, and, I think, unmerited," objected Odelin's widow. "Did not Estienne of La Boetie himself, who died only nine years ago, see the Protestants thrice run to arms in the defense of their faith?"
"Sister," asked Captain Mirant, "did the whole people run to arms? Alas, no! The majority, the masses—blind, ignorant, wretched, and dominated by the monks—have they not ever risen at the command of their clerical misleaders, and fallen with fanatical rage upon what they call the 'heretics'? Even among ourselves, is it not a small majority that realizes the truth of what Christian your husband's father used to say, when he warned the Protestants that neither religious nor any other freedom could ever be permanently secured so long as royalty, the hereditary accomplice of the Church, was left standing? Do not the majority of Protestants, even Admiral Coligny himself, entertain respect and love, if not for Kings, at least for the monarchy? Do they not seek to place that institution beyond the reach of the religious wars? Sister, Boetie's book tells the truth: The masses of the people, degraded, brutified, besotted and kept in ignorance by hereditary serfdom no longer feel the gall of servitude. Does it, therefore, follow the disease is incurable, and fatal? No! No! In that respect I look to better things than does La Boetie. History, in accord therein with the chronicles of your husband's family, proves that a slow and mysterious progress is taking its course across the ages. Serfs replaced slaves; vassals replaced serfs; some day, vassalage also will disappear as did slavery and serfdom! The religious wars of our century are another step toward ultimate freedom. The revolt against the throne will closely follow the revolt against the Church. But, alas! how many years are yet to elapse before the arrival of the day foretold by Victoria the Great—as narrated in your family history!"[76]
"Oh, the genius of tyranny is so resourceful in infernal plans to protect its empire!" exclaimed Antonicq. "Do you remember, uncle, how surprised you and I were at the account, given us by some travelers who returned from Paris, of the infinite number of public festivities—tourneys, tilts, processions—gotten up to keep the people amused?"
"Yes, and we listened to their report as to a fairy tale," interjected Cornelia. "We wondered how the people could feel so giddyheaded in Paris; how they could crowd to festivities given upon places that were still dyed red with the blood of martyrs, and still warm with the ashes of pyres!"
"Cornelia," replied Antonicq, proud of the noble words of his bride, "tyrants rule less, perhaps, through force that terrorizes than through corruption that depraves. Listen to these profound and awful words of La Boetie upon this very subject:
"No better insight can be got into the craftiness of tyrants to brutify their subjects than from the measure that Cyrus adopted towards the Lydians after he took possession of Sardis, the principal city of Lydia, and reduced to his mercy Croesus, the rich King, and carried him off a prisoner of war. Cyrus was notified that the people of Sardis rose in rebellion. He speedily reduced them to order, but unwilling to put so beautiful a place to the sack, and also to be himself put to the trouble of garrisoning the city with a large force in order to keep it safe, he hit upon a master scheme to make sure of his conquest. He set up in Sardis a large number of public houses for debauchery, and issued a decree commanding the people to frequent these brothels. That garrison answered his purpose so well that never after did he have to draw the sword against the Lydians.
"Indeed, no bird is more easily caught with bird-lime, no fish is more securely hooked with an appetizing bait, than the masses of the people are lured to servitude by the tickle of the smallest feather, which, as the saying goes, is passed over their lips. Theaters, games, farces, spectacles, gladiators, strange beasts, medals, pictures and other trifles were, to the peoples of antiquity, the charms of servitude, the price of their freedom, the instruments of tyranny.
"These lures kept the people under the yoke. Thus, mentally unnerved, they found the pastimes pleasant, they were amused by the idle spectacles that were paraded before their eyes, and they were habituated to obedience as fully, but not as usefully to themselves, as little children, who, in order to gladden their eyes with the brilliant pictures of illuminated books insensibly learn to read.
"The tyrant Romans furthermore resorted to the plan of feasting the populace, which can be led by nothing so readily as by the pleasures of the mouth. The cleverest of them all would not have dropped his bowl of soup to recover the liberty of the Republic of Plato. The tyrants made bountiful donations of wheat, of wine and corn. Whereupon the cry went up lustily—Long live the King! The dullards did not realize they were receiving but a small portion of what belonged to them, and that even the portion which they received the tyrant would not have it to give, but for his first having taken it away from themselves."
"The cleverest of them all would not have dropped his bowl of soup to recover the Republic," repeated Captain Mirant. "The fact is shockingly, distressfully true! Men become animals when they sacrifice everything to perverse instincts and vulgar appetites. Nevertheless, a curse upon all tyrants! It is they who incite these very appetites, in order to rule the heart through the stomach, and the mind through the eyes, by attracting the peoples to tourneys, tilts and such other pageants, amusements that are but disgraceful badges of servitude, and must be paid for by the fruit of the labor of the slaves themselves!"