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twg_000012930000 | Menkera the eunuch, he gazed at the palm-trees standing motionless against the horizon, or watched the crocodiles by the light of the moon float down the Nile like trunks of trees. One never wearies of admiring the beauties of Nature, said Sembobitis. Doubtless, said Balthasar, but there are other things in Nature more beautiful even than palm-trees and crocodiles. This | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930001 | he said thinking of Balkis. But Sembobitis, who was old, said: There is of course the phenomenon of the rising of the Nile which I have explained. Man is created to understand. He is created to love, replied Balthasar sighing. There are things which cannot be explained. And what may those be? asked Sembobitis. A womans treason, the king replied. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930002 | Balthasar, however, having decided to become a mage, had a tower built from the summit of which might be discerned many kingdoms and the infinite spaces of Heaven. The tower was constructed of brick and rose high above all other towers. It took no less than two years to build, and Balthasar expended in its construction the entire treasure of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930003 | the king, his father. Every night he climbed to the top of this tower and there he studied the heavens under the guidance of the sage Sembobitis. The constellations of the heavens disclose our destiny, said Sembobitis. And he replied: It must be admitted nevertheless that these signs are obscure. But while I study them I forget Balkis, and that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930004 | is a great boon. And among truths most useful to know, the mage taught that the stars are fixed like nails in the arch of the sky, and that there are five planets, namely: Bel, Merodach, and Nebo, which are male, while Sin and Mylitta are female. Silver, he further explained, corresponds to Sin, which is the moon, iron to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930005 | Merodach, and tin to Bel. And the worthy Balthasar answered: Such is the kind of knowledge I wish to acquire. While I study astronomy I think neither of Balkis nor anything else on earth. The sciences are benificent; they keep men from thinking. Teach me the knowledge, Sembobitis, which destroys all feeling in men and I will raise you to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930006 | great honour among my people. This was the reason that Sembobitis taught the king wisdom. He taught him the power of incantation, according to the principles of Astrampsychos, Gobryas and Pazatas. And the more Balthasar studied the twelve houses of the sun, the less he thought of Balkis, and Menkera, observing this, was filled with a great joy. Acknowledge, my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930007 | lord, that Queen Balkis under her golden robes has little cloven feet like a goats. Who ever told you such nonsense? asked the King. My lord, it is the common report both in Sheba and Ethiopia, replied the eunuch. It is universally said that Queen Balkis has a shaggy leg and a foot made of two black horns. Balthasar shrugged | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930008 | his shoulders. He knew that the legs and feet of Balkis were like the legs and feet of all other women and perfect in their beauty. And yet the mere idea spoiled the remembrance of her whom he had so greatly loved. He felt a grievance against Balkis that her beauty was not without blemish in the imagination of those | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930009 | who knew nothing about it. At the thought that he had possessed a woman who, though in reality perfectly formed, passed as a monstrosity, he was seized with such a sense of repugnance that he had no further desire to see Balkis again. Balthasar had a simple soul, but love is a very complex emotion. From that day on the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930010 | king made great progress both in magic and astrology. He studied the conjunction of the stars with extreme care, and he drew horoscopes with an accuracy equal to that of Sembobitis himself. Sembobitis, he asked, are you willing to answer with your head for the truth of my horoscopes? And the sage Sembobitis replied: My lord, science is infallible, but | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930011 | the learned often err. Balthasar was endowed with fine natural sense. He said: Only that which is true is divine, and what is divine is hidden from us. In vain we search for truth. And yet I have discovered a new star in the sky. It is a beautiful star, and it seems alive; and when it sparkles it looks | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930012 | like a celestial eye that blinks gently. I seem to hear it call to me. Happy, happy, happy is he who is born under this star, See, Sembobitis, how this charming and splendid star looks at us. But Sembobitis did not see the star because he would not see it. Wise and old, he did not like novelties. And alone | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930013 | in the silence of night Balthasar repeated: Happy, happy, happy he who is born under this star. V. The rumour spread over all Ethiopia and the neighbouring kingdoms that King Balthasar had ceased to love Balkis. When the tidings reached the country of Sheba, Balkis was as indignant as if she had been betrayed. She ran to the King of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930014 | Comagena who was employing his time in forgetting his country in the city of Sheba. My friend, she cried, do you know what I have just heard? Balthasar loves me no longer! What does it matter, said the King of Comagena, since we love one another? But do you not feel how this blackamoor has insulted me? No, said the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930015 | King of Comagena, I do not. Whereupon she drove him ignominiously out of her presence, and ordered her grand vizier to prepare for a journey into Ethiopia. We shall set out this very night. And I shall cut off your head if all is not ready by sundown. But when she was alone she began to sob. I love him! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930016 | He loves me no longer, and I love him, she sighed in the sincerity of her heart. And one night, when on his tower watching the miraculous star, Balthasar, casting his eyes towards earth, saw along black line sinuously curving over the distant sands of the desert like an army of ants. Little by little what seemed to be ants | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930017 | grew larger and sufficiently distinct for the king to be able to recognise horses, camels and elephants. The caravan having approached the city, Balthasar distinguished the glittering scimitars and the black horses of the guards of the Queen of Sheba. He even recognised the queen herself, and he was profoundly disturbed, for he felt that he would again love her. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930018 | The star shone in the zenith with a marvellous brilliancy. Below, extended on a litter of purple and gold, Balkis looked small and brilliant like the star. Balthasar was conscious of being drawn towards her by some terrible power. Still he turned his head away with a desperate effort, and lifting his eyes he again saw the star. Thereupon the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930019 | star spoke and said: Glory to God in the Heavens and peace on earth to men of good will! Take a measure of myrrh, gentle King Balthasar, and follow me. I will guide thee to the feet of a little child who is about to be born in a stable between an ass and an ox. And this little child | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930020 | is the King of Kings. He will comfort all those who need comforting. He calls thee to Him, O Balthasar, thou whose soul is as dark as thy face, but whose heart is as guileless as the heart of a child. He has chosen thee because thou hast suffered, and He will give thee riches, happiness and love. He will | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930021 | say to thee: Be poor joyfully, for that is true riches. He will also say to thee: True happiness is in the renunciation of happiness. Love Me and love none other but Me, because I alone am love. At these words a divine peace fell like a flood of light over the dark face of the king. Balthasar listened with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930022 | rapture to the star. He felt himself becoming a new man. Prostrate beside him, Sembobitis and Menkera worshipped, their faces touching the stone. Queen Balkis watched Balthasar. She realised that never again would there be love for her in that heart filled with a love divine. She turned white with rage and gave orders for the caravan to return at | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930023 | once to the land of Sheba. As soon as the star had ceased to speak, Balthasar and his companions descended from the tower. Then, having prepared a measure of myrrh, they formed a caravan and departed in the direction towards which they were guided by the star. They journeyed a long time through unknown countries, the star always journeying in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930024 | front of them. One day, finding themselves in a place where three roads met, they saw two kings advance accompanied by a numerous retinue; one was young and fair of face. He greeted Balthasar and said: My name is Gaspar. I am a king, and I bear gold as a gift to the child that is about to be born | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930025 | in Bethlehem of Judea. The second king advanced in turn. He was an old man, and his white beard covered his breast. My name is Melchior, he said, and I am a king, and I bring frankincense to the holy child who is to teach Truth to mankind. I am bound whither you are, said Balthasar. I have conquered my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930026 | lust, and for that reason the star has spoken to me. I, said Melchior, have conquered my pride, and that is why I have been called. I, said Gaspar, have conquered my cruelty, and for that reason I go with you. And the three mages proceeded on their journey together. The star which they had seen in the East preceded | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930027 | them until, arriving above the place where the child lay, it stood still. And seeing the star standing still they rejoiced with a great joy. And, entering the house they found the child with Mary his mother, and prostrating themselves, they worshipped him. And opening their treasures they offered him gold, frankincense and myrrh, as it is written in the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930028 | Gospel. THE CURS MIGNONETTE TO JULES LEMATRE In a village of the Bocage I once knew a cur, a holy man who denied himself every indulgence and who cheerfully practised the virtue of renunciation, and knew no joy but that of sacrifice. In his garden he cultivated fruit-trees, vegetables and medicinal plants, but fearing beauty even in flowers, he would | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930029 | have neither roses nor jasmine. He only allowed himself the innocent luxury of a few tufts of mignonette whose twisted stems, so modestly flower-crowned, would not distract his attention as he read his breviary among his cabbage-plots under the sky of our dear Father in Heaven. The holy man had so little distrust of his mignonette that he would often | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930030 | in passing pick a spray and inhale its fragrance for a long time. All the plant asked was to be permitted to grow. If one spray was cut, four grew in its place. So much so, indeed, that, the devil aiding, the priests mignonette soon covered a vast extent of his little garden. It overflowed into the paths and pulled | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930031 | at the good priests cassock as he passed, until, distracted by the foolish plant, he would pause as often as twenty times an hour while he read or said his prayers. From springtime until autumn the presbytery was redolent of mignonette. Behold what we may come to and how feeble we are! Not without reason do we say that all | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930032 | our natural inclinations lead us towards sin! The man of God had succeeded in guarding his eyes, but he had left his nostrils undefended, and so the devil, as it were, caught him by the nose. This saint now inhaled the fragrance of mignonette with avidity and lust, that is to say, with that sinful instinct which makes us long | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930033 | for the enjoyment of natural pleasures and which leads us into all sorts of temptations. Henceforth he seemed to take less delight in the odours of Paradise and the perfumes which are our Ladys merits. His holiness dwindled, and he might, perhaps, have sunk into voluptuousness and become little by little like those lukewarm souls which Heaven rejects had not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930034 | succour come to him in the nick of time. Once, long ago, in the Thebaid, an angel stole from a hermit a cup of gold which still bound the holy man to the vanities of earth. A similar mercy was vouchsafed to this priest of the Bocage. A white hen scratched the earth about the mignonette with such good-will that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930035 | it all died. We are not informed whence this bird came. As for myself, I am inclined to believe that the angel who in the desert stole the hermits cup transformed himself into a white hen on purpose to destroy the only obstacle which barred the good priests path towards perfection. M. PIGEONNEAU TO GILBERT AUGUSTIN-THIERRY I have, as everybody | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930036 | knows, devoted my whole life to Egyptian archaeology. I should be very ungrateful to my country, to science, and to my-self, if I regretted the profession to which I was called. In my early youth and which I have followed with honour these forty years. My labours have not been in vain. I may say, without flattering myself, that my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930037 | article on _The Handle of an Egyptian mirror in the Museum of the Louvre_ may still be consulted with profit, though it dates back to the beginning of my career. As for the exhaustive studies which I subsequently devoted to one of the bronze weights found in in the excavations at the Serapeium, it would be ungracious for me not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930038 | to think well of them, as they opened for me the doors of the Institute. Encouraged by the flattering reception with which my researches of this nature were received by many of my new colleagues, I was tempted for a moment to treat in one comprehensive work of the weights and measures in use at Alexandria in the reign of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930039 | Ptolemy Auletes (-). I soon recognised, however, that a subject so general could not be dealt with by the really profound student, and that positive science could not approach it without running a risk of incurring all sorts of mischances. I felt that in investigating several subjects at once I was forsaking the fundamental principles of archaeology. If to-day I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930040 | confess my mistake, if I acknowledge the incredible enthusiasm with which I was inspired by a far too ambitious scheme, I do so for the sake of the young, who will thus learn by my example to conquer their imagination. It is our most cruel foe. The student who has not succeeded in stifling it is lost for ever to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930041 | erudition. I still tremble to think in what depths I was nearly plunged by my adventurous spirit. I was within an ace of what one calls history. What a downfall! I should have sunk into art. For history is only art, or, at best, a false science. Who to-day does not know that the historians preceded the archaeologists, as astrologers | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930042 | preceded the astronomers, as the alchemists preceded the chemists, and as the monkeys preceded men? Thank Heaven! I escaped with a mere fright. My third work, I hasten to say, was wisely planned. It was a monograph entitled, _On the toilet of an Egyptian lady of the Middle Empire from an unpublished picture_. I treated the subject so as to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930043 | avoid all side issues, and I did not permit any generalising to intrude itself. I guarded myself against those considerations, comparisons and views with which certain of my colleagues have marred the exposition of their most valuable discoveries. But why should a work planned so sanely have met with so fantastic a fate? By what freak of destiny should it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930044 | have proved the cause of the monstrous aberration of my mind? But let me not anticipate events nor confuse dates. My dissertation was intended to be read at a public sitting of the five academies, a distinction all the more precious, as it rarely falls to the lot of works of this character. These academic gatherings have for some years | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930045 | past been largely attended by people of fashion. The day I delivered my lecture the hall was crowded by a distinguished audience. Women were there in great numbers. Lovely faces and brilliant toilettes graced the galleries. My discourse was listened to with respect. It was not interrupted by those thoughtless and noisy demonstrations which naturally follow mere literary productions. No, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930046 | the public preserved an attitude more in harmony with the nature of the work presented to them. They were serious and grave. As I paused between the phrases the better to disentangle the different trains of thought, I had leisure to examine behind my spectacles the entire hall. I can truly say that not the faintest smile could be seen | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930047 | on any lips. On the contrary, even the freshest faces wore an expression of austerity. I seemed to have ripened all their intellects as if by magic. Here and there while I read some young people whispered to their neighbours. They were probably debating some special point treated of in my discourse. More than that, a beautiful young creature of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930048 | twenty-two or twenty-four, seated in the left corner of the north balcony, was listening with great attention and taking notes. Her face had a delicacy of features and a mobility of expression truly remarkable. The attention with which she listened to my words gave an added charm to her singular face. She was not alone. A big, robust man, who, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930049 | like the Assyrian kings, wore a long curled beard and long black hair, stood beside her and occasionally spoke to her in a low voice. My attention, which at first was divided amongst my entire audience, concentrated itself little by little on the young woman. She inspired me, I confess, with an interest which certain of my colleagues might consider | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930050 | unworthy of a scientific mind such as mine, though I feel sure that none of them under similar circumstances would have been more indifferent than I. As I proceeded she scribbled in a little note-book; and as she listened to my discourse one could see that she was visibly swayed by the most contradictory emotions; she seemed to pass from | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930051 | satisfaction and joy to surprise and even anxiety. I examined her with increasing curiosity. Would to God I had set eyes on her and her only that day under the cupola! I had nearly finished; there hardly remained more than twenty-five or thirty pages at most to read when suddenly my eyes encountered those of the man with the Assyrian | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930052 | beard. How can I explain to you what happened then, seeing that I cannot explain it to myself? All I can say is that the glance of this personage put me at once into a state of indescribable agitation. The eye-balls fixed on me were of a greenish colour. I could not turn my own away. I stood there dumb | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930053 | and open-mouthed. As I had stopped speaking the audience began to applaud. Silence being restored, I tried to continue my discourse. But in spite of the most violent efforts, I could not tear my eyes from those two living lights to which they were so mysteriously riveted. That was not all. By a more amazing phenomenon still, and contrary to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930054 | all the principles of my whole life, I began to improvise. God alone knows if this was the result of my own freewill! Under the influence of a strange, unknown and irresistible force I delivered with grace and burning eloquence certain philosophical reflections on the toilet of women in the course of the ages; I generalised, I rhapsodised, I grew | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930055 | eloquent-God forgive me-about the eternal feminine, and the passion which glides like a breath about those perfumed veils with which women know how to adorn their beauty. The man with the Assyrian beard never ceased staring steadily at me. And I still continued to speak. At last he lowered his eyes, and then I stopped. It is humiliating to add | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930056 | that this portion of my address, which was quite as foreign to my own natural impulse as it was contrary to the scientific mind, was rewarded with tumultuous applause. The young woman in the north balcony clapped her hands and smiled. I was followed at the reading-desk by a member of the Academy who seemed visibly annoyed at having to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930057 | be heard after me. Perhaps his fears were exaggerated. At any rate he was listened to without too much impatience. I am under the impression that it was verse that he read. The meeting being over, I left the hall in company with several of my colleagues, who renewed their congratulations with a sincerity in which I try to believe. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930058 | Having paused a moment on the quay near the lions of Creuzot to exchange a few greetings, I observed the man with the Assyrian beard and his beautiful companion enter a _coup_. I happened accidentally to be standing next to an eloquent philosopher, of whom it is said that he is equally at home in worldly elegance and in cosmic | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930059 | theories. The young lady, putting her delicate head and her little hand out of the carriage door, called him by name and said with a slight English accent: My dear friend, youve forgotten me. Thats too bad! After the carriage had gone I asked my illustrious colleague who this charming person and her companion were. What! he replied, you do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930060 | not know Miss Morgan and her physician Daoud, who cures all diseases by means of magnetism, hypnotism, and suggestion? Annie Morgan is the daughter of the richest merchant in Chicago. Two years ago she came to Paris with her mother, and she has had a wonderful house built on the Avenue du Bois-de-Boulogne trice. She is highly educated and remarkably | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930061 | clever. You do not surprise me, I replied, for I have reason to think that this American lady is of a very serious turn of mind. My brilliant colleague smiled as he shook my hand. I walked home to the Rue Saint Jacques, where I have lived these last thirty years in a modest lodging from which I can just | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930062 | see the tops of the trees in the garden of the Luxembourg, and I sat down at my writing-table. For three days I sat there assiduously at work, before me a little statuette representing the goddess Pasht with her cats head. This little monument bears an inscription imperfectly deciphered by Monsieur Grbault I was at work on an adequate interpretation | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930063 | with comments. The incident at the institute had left a less vivid impression on my mind than might have been feared. I was not unduly disturbed. To tell the truth, I had even forgotten it a little, and it required new occurrences to revive its remembrance. I had, therefore, leisure during these three days to bring my version of the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930064 | inscription and my notes to a satisfactory conclusion. I only interrupted my archaeological work to read the newspapers, which were loud in my praise. Newspapers, absolutely ignorant of all learning, spoke in praise of that charming passage which had concluded my discourse. It was a revelation, they said, and M. Pigeonneau had prepared a most agreeable surprise for us. I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930065 | do not know why I refer to such trifles, because, usually I am quite indifferent as to what they say about me in the newspapers. I had been already closeted in my study for three days when a ring at the door-bell startled me. There was something imperious, fantastic, and strange in the motion communicated to the bell-rope which disturbed | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930066 | me, and it was with real anxiety that I went myself to open the door. And whom did I find on the landing? The young American recently so absorbed at the reading of my treatise. It was Miss Morgan in person. Monsieur Pigeonneau? Yes. I recognised you at once, though you are not wearing your beautiful coat with the embroidery | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930067 | of green palm-leaves. But, please dont put it on for my sake. I like you much better in your dressing-gown. I led her into my study. She looked curiously at the papyri, the prints, and odds and ends of all kinds which covered the walls to the ceiling, and then she looked silently for some time at the goddess Pasht | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930068 | who stood on my writing-table. Finally she said: She is charming. Do you refer to this little monument, Madam? As a matter of fact, it is distinguished by an exceptional inscription of a sufficiently curious nature. But may I ask what has procured for me the honour of your visit? O, she cried, I dont care a fig for its | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930069 | remarkable inscriptions. There never was a more exquisitely delicate cat-face. Of course you believe that she is a real goddess, dont you, Monsieur Pigeonneau? I protested against so unworthy a suspicion. To believe that would be fetichism. Her great green eyes looked at me with surprise. Ah, then, you dont believe in fetichism? I did not think one could be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930070 | an archaeologist and yet not believe in fetichism. How can Pasht interest you if you do not believe that she is a goddess? But never mind! I came to see you on a matter of great importance, Monsieur Pigeonneau. Great importance? Yes, about a costume. Look at me. With pleasure. Dont you find traces of the Cushite race in my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930071 | profile? I was at loss what to say. An interview of this nature was so foreign to me. Oh, theres nothing surprising about it, she continued. I remember when I was an Egyptian. And were you also an Egyptian, Monsieur Pigeonneau? Dont you remember? How very curious. At least, you dont doubt that we pass through a series of successive | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930072 | incarnations? I do not know. You surprise me, Monsieur Pigeonneau. Will you tell me, Madam, to what I am indebted for this honour? To be sure. I havent yet told you that I have come to beg you to help me to design an Egyptian costume for the fancy ball at Countess N------s. I want a costume that shall be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930073 | absolutely accurate and bewilderingly beautiful. I have been hard at work at it already, M. Pigeonneau. I have gone over my recollections, for I remember very well when I lived in Thebes six thousand years ago. I have had designs sent me from London, Boulak and New York. Those would, of course, be more reliable. No, nothing is so reliable | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930074 | as ones intuition. I have also studied in the Egyptian Museum of the Louvre. It is full of enchanting things. Figures so slender and pure, profiles so delicate and clear cut, women who look like flowers, but, at the same time, with something at once rigid and supple. And a god, Bes, who looks like Sarcey! My goodness, how beautiful | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930075 | it all is! Pardon me, but I do not yet quite understand---- I havent finished. I went to your lecture on the toilet of a woman of the Middle Empire, and I took notes. It was rather dry, your lecture, but I grubbed away at it. By aid of all these notes I have designed a costume. But it is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930076 | not quite right yet. So I have come to beg you to correct it. Do come to me to-morrow! Will you? Do me that honour for the love of Egypt! You will, wont you? Till to-morrow, I must hurry off. Mama is in the carriage waiting for me. She disappeared as she said these last words, and I followed. When | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930077 | I reached the vestibule she was already at the foot of the stairs and from here I heard her clear voice call up: Till to-morrow. Avenue du Bois-de-Boulogne, at the corner of the Villa Sad. I shall not go to see this mad creature, I said to myself. The next afternoon at four oclock I rang the door-bell. A footman | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930078 | led me into an immense, well-lighted hall crowded with pictures and statues in marble and bronze; sedan chairs in _Vernis Martin_ set with porcelain plaques; Peruvian mummies; a dozen dummy figures of men and horses in full armour, over which, by reason of their great height, towered a Polish cavalier with white wings on his shoulders and a French knight | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930079 | equipped for the tournament, his helmet bearing a crest of a womans head with pointed coif and flowing veil. An entire grove of palm-trees in tubs reared their foliage in this hall, and in their midst was seated a gigantic Buddha in gold. At the foot of the god sat a shabbily dressed old woman reading the Bible. I was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930080 | still dazzled by these many marvels when the purple hangings were raised and Miss Morgan appeared in a white _peignoir_ trimmed with swans-down. She was followed by two great, long-muzzled boarhounds. I was sure you would come, Monsieur Pigeonneau. I stammered a compliment. How could one possibly refuse anything to so charming a lady? O, it is not because I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930081 | am pretty that I am never refused anything. I have secrets by which I make myself obeyed. Then, pointing to the old lady who was reading the Bible, she said to me: Pay no attention to her, that is mama. I shall not introduce you. Should you speak she could not reply; she belongs to a religious sect which forbids | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930082 | unnecessary conversation. It is the very latest thing in sects. Its adherents wear sackcloth and eat out of wooden basins. Mama greatly enjoys these little observances. But you can imagine that I did not ask you here to talk to you about mama. I will put on my Egyptian costume. I shant be long. In the meantime you might look | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930083 | at these little things. And she made me sit down before a cabinet containing a mummy-case, several statuettes of the Middle Empire, a number of scarabs, and some beautiful fragments of a ritual for the burial of the dead. Left alone, I examined the papyrus with the more interest, inasmuch as it was inscribed with a name I had already | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930084 | discovered on a seal. It was the name of a scribe of King Seti I. I immediately applied myself to noting the various interesting peculiarities the document exhibited. I was plunged in this occupation for a longer time than I could accurately measure, when I was warned by a kind of instinct that some one was behind me. I turned | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930085 | and saw a marvellous being, her head surmounted by a gold hawk and the pure and adorable lines of her young body revealed by a clinging white sheath. Over this a transparent rose-coloured tunic, bound at the waist by a girdle of precious stones, fell and separated into symmetrical folds. Arms and feet were bare and loaded with rings. She | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930086 | stood before me, her head turned towards her right shoulder in a hieratic attitude which gave to her delicious beauty something indescribably divine. What! Is that you, Miss Morgan? Unless it is Neferu-Ra in person. You remember the Neferu-Ra of Leconte de Lisle, the Beauty of the Sun? Pallid and pining on her virgin bed, Swathed in fine lawns from | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930087 | dainty foot to head.{*} * Voici quelle languit sur son lit virginal, Trs ple, enveloppe avec des fines toiles. But of course you dont know. You know nothing of verse. And yet verses are so pretty. Come! Lets go to work. Having mastered my emotion, I made some remarks to this charming young person about her enchanting costume. I ventured | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930088 | to criticise certain details as departing from archaeological accuracy. I proposed to replace certain gems in the setting of the rings by others more universally in use in the Middle Empire. Finally I decidedly opposed the wearing of a clasp of _cloisonn_ enamel. In fact, this jewel was a most odious anachronism. We at last agreed to replace this by | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930089 | a boss of precious stones deep set in fine gold. She listened with great docility, and seemed so pleased with me that she even asked me to stay to dinner. I excused myself because of my regular habits and the simplicity of my diet and took my leave. I was already in the vestibule when she called after me: Well, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930090 | now, is my costume sufficiently smart? How mad I shall make all the other women at the Countesss ball! I was shocked at the remark. But having turned towards her I saw her again, and again I fell under her spell. She called me back. Monsieur Pigeonneau, she said, you are such a dear man! Write me a little story | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930091 | and I will love you ever and ever and ever so much! I dont know how, I replied. She shrugged her shoulders and exclaimed: What is the use of science if it cant help you to write a story! You must write me a story, Monsieur Pigeonnneau. Thinking it useless to repeat my absolute refusal I took my leave without | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930092 | replying. At the door I passed the man with the Assyrian beard, Dr. Daoud, whose glance had so strangely affected me under the cupola of the Institute. He struck me as being of the commonest class, and I found it very disagreeable to meet him again. The Countess N------s ball took place about fifteen days after my visit. I was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930093 | not surprised to read in the newspaper that the beautiful Miss Morgan had created a sensation in the costume of Neferu-Ra. During the rest of the year I did not hear her mentioned again. But on the first day of the New Year, as I was writing in my study, a manservant brought me a letter and a basket. From | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930094 | Miss Morgan, he explained, and went away. I heard a mewing in the basket which had been placed on my writing table, and when I opened it out sprang a little grey cat. It was not an Angora. It was a cat of some Oriental breed, much more slender than ours, and with a striking resemblance, so far as I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930095 | could judge, to those of his race found in great numbers in the subterranean tombs of Thebes, their mummies swathed in coarse mummy-wrappings. He shook himself, gazed about, arched his back, yawned, and then rubbed himself, purring, against the goddess Pasht, who stood on my table in all her purity of form and her delicate, pointed face. Though his colour | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930096 | was dark and his fur short, he was graceful, and he seemed intelligent and quite tame. I could not imagine the reason for such a curious present, nor did Miss Morgans letter greatly enlighten me. It was as follows: Dear Sir, I am sending you a little cat which Dr. Daoud brought back from Egypt, and of which I am | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930097 | very fond. Treat him well for my sake, Baudelaire, the greatest French poet after Stphane Mallarm, has said: The ardent lover and the unbending sage, Alike companion in their ripe old age, With the sleek arrogant cat, the households pride, Slothful and chilly by the warm fireside.{*} * Les amoureux fervents et les savants austres Aiment galement, dans leur mre | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930098 | saison, Les chats puissants et doux, orgueil de la maison, Qui comme eux sont frileux et comme eux sdentaires. I need hardly remind you that you must write me a story. Bring it on Twelfth Night. We will dine together. Annie Morgan. P.S.--Your little cats name is Porou. Having read this letter, I looked at Porou who, standing on his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012930099 | hind legs, was licking the black face of Pasht, his divine sister. He looked at me, and I must confess that of the two of us he was the less astonished. I asked myself, What does this mean? But I soon gave up trying to understand. It is expecting too much of myself to try and discover reason in the | 60 | gutenberg |
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