“If you are against him, you will be pathetic; if for him, you may perhaps be comic.”
“So be it,” said M. Goefle, extending the hand on which he held the marionette, and making it gesticulate. “Here goes; attend:
“What accusation can you bring against my client, you who reproach him for an action so simple and natural as merely the suppression of a troublesome member of his family? Why should he be blamed for that? When has it ever been expected that a man fond of money and display should pay regard to the vulgar consideration which you call the right to live? The right to live! We all claim it equally, and if we have the right to live, have we not also the right to live as we please? But if we cannot live without a considerable fortune, without the privileges of an elevated station; if we find that we should die of shame and mortification, fairly burst with ennui, to use a colloquial phrase, unless able to command luxury, castles, credit, and power; if all this is so, why, then, we possess the right, we demand the right, we seize the right, of removing from our path all obstacles whatever which may impede the most expansive, extensive, and radiant development of our whole moral and physical being. In our justification we may—”
“Higher!” interrupted Christian, who was laughing at the satirical argument of the lawyer.
“We may cite,” continued M. Goefle, elevating the pitch of his voice, “the traditions of ancient times, from Cain down to the great King Birger-Iarl, who starved his two brothers to death in the chateau of Nikœping. Yes, gentlemen, we point you to the ancient customs of the north, and, moreover, to the glorious example of the court of Russia of late years. Who of you will venture to weigh petty moralities against the great consideration of a reason of state? I say a reason of state, gentlemen. Do you know what that is?”
“Higher!” repeated Christian; “higher, M. Goefle!”
“A reason of state,” squealed M. Goefle, in a falsetto—for the range of his voice did not extend high at all—“a reason of state is, in my judgment—”
“Higher!”
“Go to the devil! I shall burst my pharynx! I’ve had enough, thank you, if I’ve got to scream in that way.”
“Why, no, my dear sir! I did not tell you to speak higher. I’ve been lifting up my arm to you this hour; you do not observe that if you hold the marionette down there at the level of your breast no one can see it, and that you will be playing exclusively for your own benefit. See here: your hand must be higher than your head. Come, now, let’s try a dialogue. I am the counsel on the other side, and I interrupt you in an excess of indignation, which I cannot restrain: ‘I absolutely cannot endure this any longer; and since the judges think proper to sit sleeping on the bench before such an abuse of the faculty of human speech, notwithstanding the specious eloquence of my illustrious and powerful adversary, I—’ Interrupt me, M. Goefle; you must always interrupt.”