I told him respectfully that I should be only too glad to do so if there was no way of getting out of it, but I asked him to explain to me how it happened that there were the people of France, who loved their fields and their vineyards, and there also was the King who wanted only to devour them;—I said I knew well enough that every one had his place in the world, and some were made to eat and some to be eaten; politics I had heard was the art of filling your own stomach, and that was an art reserved for the noble, and the land for the peasant. But what was a poor man to do, since he was not allowed to have an opinion? And besides, as we are all as ignorant as our father Adam, (they say that he was his Lordship’s father also, but I could not well believe it, maybe he was only a cousin)—our business is to plow and enrich the soil, to sow and reap, to plant vines and gather grapes, make wine and bread, work in wood and stone, in cloth and leather; lay out canals and highways, erect great cathedrals and cities adorned with gardens, and embellish with carving and statues; catch sound and imprison it in the flanks of a fiddle, make ourselves masters, in short, of France, the earth and the air above us;—all to add to the pleasure of our lords. How could the people be expected to go any farther and try to grasp the high designs of kings, the quarrels of princes, with all their politics and metaphysics? No, the stick is made for beasts of burden, but which cudgel is the softest and who is to shake it over our backs, is a question too hard for us to decide; if we had the stick in our own hands for a little while it might be easier, but in the meantime there is nothing for it but patience, and to bear the blows as long as we are the anvil; some day our turn will come at the hammer! While I was talking, the Seigneur of Maillebois stood looking at me, in two minds whether to laugh or be angry; fortunately one of his equerries had seen me one day when I was with the late Duke, and he explained who I was, that I was no minstrel, but a fine sculptor and worker in wood, known far and wide for my talk, and somewhat of a free thinker.
The noble Lord did not seem much impressed by this information, but he showed a faint interest in my insignificant personality when his host told him that my work had been admired by princes of his acquaintance, and he soon fell into ecstasies when they showed him the fountain I had made in the courtyard. It is a girl with her skirts tucked up, holding two ducks in her apron with their wings extended; the water trickles out of their beaks;—a pretty conceit as I think it. He saw also my carved furniture and panels in the castle, which Asnois displayed with as much pride as if he had been their creator instead of being merely the man who paid for them. Maillebois expressed himself as astonished that I should bury my talent so far from Paris, and he also wondered that I should confine myself to work which showed chiefly observation and fidelity to nature; no grandeur or symbolism, nothing allegorical, both things which the critic considers essential to great sculpture. (A lord, you know, admires nothing that is not lordly.)
To which I replied with due respect, as became a country booby, that I knew my place, and was always careful to keep in it; that it would be presumption for a poor man like me, without knowledge or education, to attempt anything vast or sublime, and that he ought to be content with a modest place on the lowest step of Mount Parnassus, aiming only at such things as may be useful in everyday life. Utility in art should be his motto.
“Utility in art!” exclaimed his Lordship; “that is a contradiction in terms, true beauty is only found in what is useless.”
“A lofty sentiment,” said I, bowing, “and profoundly true; you see it everywhere, in art as well as in life; a diamond is beautiful, and so is a king, a prince, a great noble, or a flower.”
On this he turned away, much pleased with so much proper feeling; but Asnois pinched me, and whispered in my ear, “Shut up, you old humbug! I don’t mind if you do make a fool of this fop from Paris, but don’t try anything of that sort on me, or it will be the worse for you!”
“Oh! your Lordship, how could you think me capable of such a thing? As if I would be so ungrateful to my protector, my benefactor! and not only ungrateful but foolish. Breugnon is not that kind of a fool, he knows enough to take good care of his own skin, and your Lordship is not only stronger,—that is as it should be,—but ever so much cleverer than I am. What chance should I have against an old fox like the Lord of Asnois, if I may venture to say so? You who get the better of young and old, gentle and simple.”
Nothing is so agreeable as to be praised for talents which we do not possess; so he fairly beamed as he answered, “Your tongue is long enough in all conscience, but now I should like to know what brought you here today? For I’ll be bound you were after something.”
“There now, what was I saying just this minute? You see through a man as if he were a pane of glass; like God Almighty, the heart has no secrets from your Lordship.” Then of course I unpacked my two panels, and also something else I had brought, namely an Italian piece picked up at Mantua, representing Fortune on her wheel, which, through a mistake I am at a loss to account for, I claimed as my own. It did not excite much admiration. Then I showed a medallion of a girl’s head, done by me, as the product of an Italian chisel, and it received a perfect ovation! you never heard such ohs! and ahs! The Lord of Maillebois was particularly enthusiastic; he said he could detect in this admirable work the influence of a land twice blessed by Heaven,—by Jupiter and by Jesus Christ; and the Lord of Asnois ended by giving me thirty-six ducats for it,—but I only got three for the Fortune!
As we were coming home that evening I told my friends a little anecdote which I thought would amuse them. The Duke of Bellegarde came some years ago to Clamecy to shoot at the popinjay, but as he was short-sighted, I was hidden behind the target, and instructed to throw down the wooden bird as soon as he fired, and in its place to substitute as quickly as possible a bird with a hole through the middle. We all laughed at this story, and then each in his turn had some such thing to tell of our noble masters. If they could only hear some of the jokes we have at their expense, they would not be quite so bored perhaps in the midst of their royal grandeur. Nothing was said, you may be sure, about the medallion till we were safe at home, and the door shut, and then Florimond was much vexed with me because I had sold the Italian piece at such a low price as my own, seeing that they had been willing to pay anything I asked for the other; but as I said, I liked to laugh at people but not to skin them; that naturally made him crosser than ever, and he wanted to know what fun I could find in cheating myself? And if there was any sport in making a mock of people unless there was something to be gained by it?