An amusing account of the ceremonies which attend the sneezing of a king of Monomotapa, shows what a national concern may be the sneeze of despotism.—Those who are near his person, when this happens, salute him in so loud a tone, that persons in the ante-chamber hear it, and join in the acclamation; in the adjoining apartments they do the same, till the noise reaches the street, and becomes propagated throughout the city; so that, at each sneeze of his majesty, results a most horrid cry from the salutations of many thousands of his vassals.
When the king of Sennaar sneezes, his courtiers immediately turn their backs on him, and give a loud slap on their right thigh.
With the ancients sneezing was ominous;[42] from the right it was considered auspicious; and Plutarch, in his Life of Themistocles, says, that before a naval battle it was a sign of conquest! Catullus, in his pleasing poem of Acmè and Septimus, makes this action from the deity of Love, from the left, the source of his fiction. The passage has been elegantly versified by a poetical friend, who finds authority that the gods sneezing on the right in heaven, is supposed to come to us on earth on the left.
Cupid sneezing in his flight,
Once was heard upon the right,
Boding woe to lovers true;
But now upon the left he flew,
And with sporting sneeze divine,
Gave to joy the sacred sign.
Acmè bent her lovely face,
Flush'd with rapture's rosy grace,
And those eyes that swam in bliss,
Prest with many a breathing kiss;
Breathing, murmuring, soft, and low,
Thus might life for ever flow!
"Love of my life, and life of love!
Cupid rules our fates above,
Ever let us vow to join
In homage at his happy shrine."
Cupid heard the lovers true,
Again upon the left he flew,
And with sporting sneeze divine,
Renew'd of joy the sacred sign!
BONAVENTURE DE PERIERS.
A happy art in the relation of a story is, doubtless, a very agreeable talent; it has obtained La Fontaine all the applause which his charming naïveté deserves.
Of "Bonaventure de Periers, Valet de Chambre de la Royne de Navarre," there are three little volumes of tales in prose, in the quaint or the coarse pleasantry of that day. The following is not given as the best, but as it introduces a novel etymology of a word in great use:—
"A student at law, who studied at Poitiers, had tolerably improved himself in cases of equity; not that he was over-burthened with learning; but his chief deficiency was a want of assurance and confidence to display his knowledge. His father, passing by Poitiers, recommended him to read aloud, and to render his memory more prompt by continued exercise. To obey the injunctions of his father, he determined to read at the Ministery. In order to obtain a certain quantity of assurance, he went every day into a garden, which was a very retired spot, being at a distance from any house, and where there grew a great number of fine large cabbages. Thus for a long time he pursued his studies, and repeated his lectures to these cabbages, addressing them by the title of gentlemen, and balancing his periods to them as if they had composed an audience of scholars. After a fort-night or three weeks' preparation, he thought it was high time to take the chair; imagining that he should be able to lecture his scholars as well as he had before done his cabbages. He comes forward, he begins his oration—but before a dozen words his tongue freezes between his teeth! Confused, and hardly knowing where he was, all he could bring out was—Domini, Ego bene video quod non eslis caules; that is to say—for there are some who will have everything in plain English—Gentlemen, I now clearly see you are not cabbages! In the garden he could conceive the cabbages to be scholars; but in the chair, he could not conceive the scholars to be cabbages."
On this story La Monnoye has a note, which gives a new origin to a familiar term.