The Rebellion in the Cevennes, an Historical Novel. Vol. II.

by Ludwig Tieck

An old, careworn man now came from the wood and cried: "As this is to be a day of merriment, suffer then my son, the silly Michael, to receive a little honor; besides, consider his small capacity for prophecying, formerly when a shepherd in the fields, he learned several inimitable capers, which well deserve to be seen. The tall lad has such strong legs, that he can spring almost to the height of a man."

Michael, a robust, tall lad of an idiotic appearance, advanced sneakingly and lazily, turning his little blue eyes timidly and inquisitively round on the circle, and as he thought he perceived no disapprobation any where, he suddenly changed his lagging laziness into the most surprising activity, and jumped backwards two or three yards high, turned head-over-heels in the air, and ran over the ground in the same manner, and was so souple in all his motions, that it was scarcely possible for the eyes to follow his changes. Eustace, in amazement, clapped his hands over his head, and the young lads in admiration tried to imitate their unattainable model. With the loud laughter, which the comical jestures and attitudes excited, the merry Stephen was compelled to suspend his blowing for awhile, and the whole enclosure, when the old and religious men had retired, appeared only a merry, nay, extravagantly joyous company, which the bride, and even the grave Castanet, by their loud applause encouraged to new and still more extraordinary feats of skill.

As the grass was already tolerably beaten down, the dance might be continued with greater safety; and now old Favart stepped upon the level ground, and said: "As we are celebrating a festival to-day, pray permit for once, that the brothers Mark Anthony and Cesar may perform some of their exploits, they think, that they know some more refined amusements, which would contrast very well with the high leaping and peasant dances."

The two ci-devant noblemen after this short preface, exhibited in the then customary dances of the more refined society, but these did not excite that admiration among the spectators, with which Michael had been encouraged; the wilder exertions therefore resumed their place, and the noblemen found themselves compelled to conform to this taste, if they wished to share in the festivity. Many other instruments struck up, a flute resounded, a hautboy was raised, and between these and Stephen's pipe a flageolet was heard, mingled at intervals with the loud and merry song of the mountaineers; now the air of a dance, now old national songs, and merriment and jesting resounded loudly through the wood, so that the cliffs of the adjacent precipices repeated with joyful echo the tones of wild gaiety.

The merry-making, that to-day, once in motion, would have lasted longer, had it not been suddenly interrupted and broken up by a terrible outcry. The fearful sound proceeded from the summit of a pointed cliff, which rose almost perpendicularly over the green sward to the scene of the joyous tumult. All eyes turned quickly thither, and they beheld a demoniacal figure with upraised, extended arms, face, head, and body coloured and besmeared with blood. Once again the lunatic shouted, and then ran and precipitated himself down the steep rock into the arms of the brethren. It was the wrathful Ravanel. "Curse you! curse! ye apostates!" screamed he, "as if mad; that ye thus forget the Lord! Lamenting, mourning, discoloured with the blood of our brethren, of the enemy and with my own, shed in the holy cause, I returned to summon ye to vengeance, and I find the idolators here in the heathenish dance round the golden calf. Thus Moses descending from Sinai, in his wrath broke the tables of the law, as I now in my burning zeal, curse the bond that unites me to ye, ye impious ones!"

They tried to pacify the zealot. Stephen had long since replaced his pipe, the dancers stood at an embarrassed distance, and Eustace, who could as quickly turn from prayer to the dance as from this to that, was already sunk in profound meditation. "My brother," shouted the infuriated man anew, "has been executed to-day at Florac, ten believers have suffered martyrdom with him; I wished to rescue them, but have been beaten back with my brethren with a great deal of bloodshed, and in the mean while we forget our God, our misery, our faith, thus scandalously bring curses on yourselves, voluntarily draw down the malediction of heaven, the scornful laugh of hell voluntarily upon ye,--does no fire then fall down upon the scum? does not the earth open and swallow the iniquitous bands? Howl! howl! ye laden with sin, and roll in the dust, smite on your stony hearts and be contrite before the Almighty, that peradventure his mercy may awaken and a look of grace from the fiery wrath of his eye may light upon ye."

He threw himself down and writhed on the ground. "Mercy! mercy!" roared he in convulsions,--"No, there is no compassion, mercy is a lie, love is no more!"--"Now is woe come upon us!" sighed Eustace, "our brother is again fallen into his ravings! assist me with your prayers, beloved brethren, that his reason may become strong again.--" He threw himself on his knees by his side and prayed fervently. Duplant and Salomon came forward, that they might help the old man in his supplications; but for the present their good intention had no influence on the lunatic, who was exclaiming as if unconsciously, while he was trying to tear himself away from the arms of his friends who were supporting him. "Whither art thou fled," cried he, "lost, wandered away, thou great inexpressible being, whom we with stammering tongue wish to call God? It was a fearful, a terrible event, when before the beginning of time, created spirits in their arrogance rebelled against him, and would be God and ruler and crush and annihilate him. Then he withdrew himself from the rebels through the whole heaven of heavens, through all the starry infinities, through the immensity of space, which thought alone can reach, presentiment alone can fathom, and the audacious ones lonely and abandoned, in their malice, bitter as gall in their wrathful fire, in impotent fury, were transfixed and turned to stone and in their dark interior their last, their expiring consciousness is lost, those are the cliffs, the stony rocks, the deep masses of granite, which reach far into the centre of the earth and still rise up in defiance over clouds and vapour: that is the flesh and bone of the arrogants that the earth is now compelled to bind together as with a cramp iron. Then malice, wrath and discontent as if extinct; Yea, the flame expired, when it should have nourished itself. Was it lost, departed love recovering itself again, which would collect and burst from its powerless state. Figures move in the sea, in the air, and on the earth, and all persecute, hate, kill one another; bloodthirstiness is delight, lacerations, tearing asunder, martyrdom and devourings of one another are raiment and food. Yea, malice is now for the first time awakened into life, if it contracts and unites itself with the sentiment of love, thou hoary darkness of the primeval rocks, and as a lighted brand penetrates into the bones of the snuffing lions and tigers, and roars in the waterfall, that crumbles the mountains and thirst in the fiery torrent, that greedily eats its way to the stream and siding with his brother, the storm, swallows up woods and fields, and mocking as dead spits forth from itself the former existence as dead, cold as ashes."

Edmond turned away with indignation, and said: "Woe to thee slanderous tongue that in perverted folly takest upon thee to disfigure the most holy, and inspirest superstitious rage."

"Why are you thus unjust?" said Lacoste smiling, "it affords me inexpressible pleasure to hear for once so cool and impartial a philosopher reason thus conclusively. One does not meet every day with anything so good." The others became outrageous, and were still more fervent in their prayers. Ravanel foamed and continued crying out: "But how pious is the world, how mildly the brand still searches into the bowels of all! Then man came forth, the image of God, as he calls himself, and now in him hell first broke out in glowing, purple triumph, the loud joyful laugh of inward horror. Whatever subtilty can invent, imagination create, the wildest dream depict, and voluptuousness can attain, will turn into martyrdom, into cutting off the beings that give themselves out as their brother. All the pulses of the everlasting Satan beat joyously. Here is God! exclaims the brood, murder, torture them! here is Christ! roar the others, and slay the adversaries. Does an eye from heaven behold? Do the stars know of us? will the lost, the nameless one after eternity find himself once more in his, by himself accursed creation, and will he not then send forth, epidemics, pestilences, famines, fiery flames, and floods of waters, together with earth-quakes and a thousand all-powerful deaths on white horses, in order to crush this his brood, to grind, to powder into nothing, who scandalously imagine that the sparks of his spirit dwell in them. He, He himself inspires them? Yea no future hell; we are it and live in it, prophecied from the ancient prophets mouth. We dust of dust, we curse of curse!"

Now the prayer of the prophet seemed to operate with greater fervour, for the voice of Ravanel died away, he appeared to sink into slumber totally exhausted, and Lacoste said: "Oh that this pithy syllogism should be thus interrupted, he might have added to the preceding several other arguments just as bold and subtle."