Chapter XV: A Bohemian

The man who had entered the wine shop wore a long cloak of dark-colored cloth, which reached almost to his feet and was caught in at the waist by a striped red and black belt adorned with a fringe. On his head was a sort of pointed cap trimmed with fur. Cloak and cap alike were soiled and in wretched condition.

This was the type of costume worn at that period by those persons who undertook to draw horoscopes, and who were commonly called Bohemians. They were very different from the Bohemians of our day, who dress well and have not a sou, for they wore shabby clothes and often had gold hidden in the pockets or the lining of their shabby garments.

Gray hair and an almost snow-white beard indicated a man of advanced years. However, he seemed to be robust still, for he easily put aside the bystanders and forced a passage for himself through the crowd.

Reaching the Gascon's side, he seized the arm that held Roland; and his pressure must have been very powerful, for the chevalier made a horrible grimace and slowly lowered his sword, crying:

"Zounds! what an iron grip!"

"What does this mean?" cried the Bohemian, in a cracked but piercing voice. "Do people draw their swords in a wine shop? Fie! seigneur chevalier, this is not a battlefield worthy of you! accustomed as you are to conquer in single combat and to excel in jousting!--And you, Master Bougard, you are out very late; the curfew rang long ago; your shopboys pay little heed to it when their master is not there. And God knows whether your shop is not at the mercy of cutpurses and footpads to-night!--As for you, neighbor Dupont, you have a pretty young wife, and it seems to me that you do not watch her very closely. Beware! gallants abound in your neighborhood; they know that you come to this wine shop every night and stay late. That makes it very convenient for them to go sparking your wife."

The two tradesmen listened to nothing more; they hurriedly pushed aside those who stood in their way, and rushed from the shop, paying no further heed to the Gascon and abandoning the idea of following up their quarrel.

Meanwhile, Passedix, flattered by the words that the Bohemian had addressed to him, replaced Roland in his sheath, saying:

"After all, this old man is right. And then, those two clowns are not foemen worthy of my wrath. But still----"

And the Gascon glanced languishingly at the superb omelet, which Poussinet was preparing to carry away, when the Bohemian stopped him and said, putting a piece of money in his hand:

"Do not carry that away; put the supper on the table--before these two gallant fellows, who will permit me to entertain them and to sup with them. Fetch also a piece of your best cheese and another full pint of your oldest wine, so that we may drink longer."

The waiter, being paid, made haste to execute the orders he had received. Meanwhile, Passedix, who could hardly believe his ears, gazed at the Bohemian as the Incas gazed at the sun, then opened his long arms and threw himself into those of the man with the gray beard, crying:

"By the shades of my ancestors! you are a noble old man! I do not know you; but it would seem that you know me; for your behavior toward me is that of an old friend!"

"Oh! who has not heard of the valiant Chevalier Passedix, godson of the worthy Chaudoreille!--of his exploits, of his prowess, and of his triumphs with the ladies! I am only a poor Bohemian, but, by virtue of my profession, I know very well what is happening in Paris. So do not be surprised, seigneur chevalier, that I am so well informed with respect to your affairs."

"Capédébious! this old man talks better than our ediles!--Don't you think so, friend Cédrille, eh? Why do you refuse to speak, and keep your hand over your left eye?"

Cédrille took his hand from his face and showed his left eye, which had received the full force of the shopkeeper's blow, and which was surrounded by a black and blue circle and weeping profusely.

"Bigre! what is all this, my boy? Did you fall on something unhealthy?"

"Yes, I fell on the fisticuff that was intended for you; and it was well directed, as you see; that miserable man didn't strike with a light hand!"

"Ah! poor fellow! can it be? I am sorry now that I didn't run that clown through!"

"Come, come! to table, and let us forget about all that!" said the Bohemian, seating himself and filling the glasses. "After all is said, life is always a mixture of battles and pleasures, of strife and feasting; we must forget the former and make the most of the latter."

"Yes, that is so; to table! the old Bohemian talks like Nostradamus, from whom he is probably descended."

"Not in a direct line, but that makes no difference; I try to walk in his footsteps by reading the future as best I may. Let us drink, messeigneurs, and let us attack this omelet."

"Ah, yes! let us attack the omelet and give it no quarter."

Passedix took his place in front of the supper, the Bohemian being opposite; Cédrille was still standing, and seemed undecided as to what he should do.

"Well, young man, is my company not agreeable to you, that you do not take a seat with us?" said the old man, glancing at the Béarnais peasant.

"Your company cannot help flattering him!" cried Passedix, stuffing enormous slices of omelet into his mouth, and pieces of bread of equal dimensions. "Sandioux! who wouldn't be happy to drink with such a venerable old man, who has the grip of a Hercules?--Come, comrade Cédrille, sit you down there."

"Oh! I'll tell you what," replied Cédrille, as he seated himself; "I don't feel a bit hungry, and that blow made me sick!"

"The idea of a man of your age paying any attention to that little tap! you are strong enough to stand harder knocks than that!--Come! drink, as you are not hungry, and we will eat for you."

"Well said, venerable Bohemian! He need have no fear, I will eat his share; but let us drink; one can always drink, even when one is not thirsty."

The Bohemian was careful not to leave the glasses of his guests empty; and Cédrille, led on by the example set him, finally decided to partake of the omelet.

"All the same," he muttered, "I haven't enjoyed myself much here!"

"Bigre! my boy, you are hard to please! You see before you a delicious supper--with two jovial companions; this venerable Bohemian fills your glass every instant; this wine is very good--and you are not satisfied. Is it because we had a quarrel with two boors? But in Paris it rarely happens that one passes a day without an affair, more or less serious. Why, I myself, as you see me, when I return home at night without having drawn my sword, am not content with my day; I feel that something is lacking.--You must know, respected Bohemian, that this young man has been in Paris only since this morning; he cannot as yet be acquainted with our customs; but I have undertaken his education, and I will push him!"

"Thanks!" said Cédrille to himself; "if he pushes me the way he has this evening, I shall risk nothing by keeping on my guard."

"Yes, yes," said the old man, caressing his beard, "I know that this young man arrived in Paris to-day, with his cousin, a very pretty young woman--a fascinating brunette."

"I say! you know that?" exclaimed Cédrille, staring at the old man in amazement. "You're a sorcerer, are you?"

"That is my profession."

"And I bow before your magic power!" cried Passedix, emptying his glass at a draught.

"But they burn sorcerers!" muttered the peasant, moving his chair away from the table and looking at the Bohemian with a distrustful expression.

"And so I fully expect to be roasted some day! But meanwhile I must make merry during the time I still have to pass on this earth.--Waiter, eau-de-vie--a large measure!"

Passedix grasped the Bohemian's hand and shook it effusively, saying:

"If anyone should ever be so ill-advised as to touch a hair of your head!--You know that I am devoted to you and that I am fearless?--I will undertake to deliver you, even from the Bastille, if they should imprison you there!"

Poussinet brought the eau-de-vie, for which the old man paid on the spot.

Meanwhile, most of the drinkers and habitués of the establishment had gone; and the proprietor, approaching our three friends, bowed to them, very respectfully this time, and said:

"Messeigneurs, the curfew has rung; I must warn you that I shall soon be obliged, to my regret, to send you away; for if the watch should see a light in my shop, I----"

"Very good, very good, my man!" replied the Bohemian; "we are drinking quietly, we are making no disturbance, and we have some time before us still. Moreover, there are ways of arranging matters with the watch."

As he spoke, the old man slipped into the cabaretier's hand a piece of silver which he took from his belt.

The proprietor of the Loup de Mer bowed again, saying:

"Well, messeigneurs, do as you please; my first duty is to satisfy my customers."

"Sandis! let the watch come!" cried Passedix, drinking eau-de-vie as if it were wine. "We will give them a warm reception; they'll find someone to talk to, eh! friend Cédrille?--Let us take a drink! this young new-comer hangs back!"

"No, I don't; but my eye pains me!"

"An additional reason for drinking! this eau-de-vie is nectar.--Here's the health of the man who treats us so courteously! Our host is a sly rascal! he pretends to be afraid of the watch, but the watch isn't so strict, so severe, as formerly. It doesn't date from yesterday, you know; as long ago as the time of Clotaire II, every large town in the kingdom had a night watch. In 595, an edict was issued, of which the principal provisions were:

"When a robbery is committed at night, those who are of the watch in the quarter will be held responsible if they do not arrest the robber; if the robber, fleeing from them, is seen in another quarter, and the guard of that other quarter, being forthwith notified, fail to arrest him, the loss occasioned by the robbery shall fall upon them, and they will be condemned in addition to pay a fine of five sous; and in like manner from quarter to quarter.--Peste! there was no joking about such matters in those days!"

"What I admire most of all, monsieur le chevalier," said the Bohemian, filling the glasses, "is your profound erudition; you know everything--yes, everything! I will wager that you are able to quote the _Capitulaires_ of Charlemagne."

"In truth, I am rather well informed; and but for this infernal vocation for the sword and for fighting, I believe that I should have become a troubadour, a trouvère, of the first rank; I should have contended for the palm with Clémence Isaure and all her supporters!--Delicious eau-de-vie! it is like whey!"

"Come, come, Seigneur Cédrille; you do not drink, you do not follow your gallant companion's example!"

"Oh! you see, I am not empty, like the chevalier; I had a good lot to drink at the hôtel."

"At the hôtel where you lodge?"

"No; at the Hôtel de Mongarcin, where I took my cousin Miretta and left her."

"Ah! so your pretty cousin is at the Hôtel de Mongarcin?"

"Yes, on Rue Saint-Honoré--close by."

"On this same street, eh?"

"She has a fine place there with the young lady of the house; and I--they are kind enough to keep me too, as long as I stay in Paris. But I shall not stay long; I have no desire to enjoy myself every evening the way I have this evening."

The Bohemian seemed to reflect; Passedix, whose eyes were beginning to close and his utterance to thicken, heaved a profound sigh and muttered:

"Look you, comrade Cédrille, I am going to tell you something in confidence: you can't be in love with your cousin, as you leave her here in Paris and go back to your mountains!"

"You think I ain't in love with her, do you? Well, that is where you are mistaken! On the contrary, I love Miretta with all my heart, and I'd have liked right well to marry her! But she won't have me! So all I can do is make the best of it! She refused me flat, and she's a girl with a very strong will! When she says no, that's the end of it; she never changes her mind."

"Since she has refused you, we are friends once more; for you are no longer my rival."

"Your rival?"

"Sandis! yes! I do not choose to dissemble any longer. I am in love with your enchanting cousin! Ah! so much in love that it would make me an idiot if that were possible! And with me, I venture to think that she will not say _no_!"

Cédrille rubbed his uninjured eye, and stared for several seconds at the long, lank, yellow chevalier, who had declared his love for his pretty cousin; then, without replying, he began to laugh heartily.

This outburst of hilarity seemed to displease Passedix, who said:

"What are you laughing at, young countryman? I am not fond of having anyone laugh at me without telling me why, capédébious! I am your friend, but you must not presume upon the rights which that title gives you."

"Seigneur chevalier," said the Bohemian, "you seem to me to forget at this moment that this young man is the kinsman of the woman you love."

"You are right, venerable old man.--Your hand, Cédrille; no quarrel between us! I drink to your health!"

"Ah! jarni!" cried the Béarnais peasant, putting his hand to his brow. "I remember now--and it had gone entirely out of my head!"

"What, my fine fellow?"

"My cousin told me that she would look for me this evening, at dusk, to take her to Rue Saint-Jacques, to Master Hugonnet's bath keeper, whose daughter came to our assistance this morning during that infernal battle."

"What, little cousin! pretty Miretta makes an appointment with you, and you forget it!--Mordioux! if she had said that to me! But perhaps it is not too late; let us go there."

Passedix tried to rise, as did Cédrille, but neither of them was able to stand on his legs, and they fell back heavily on their chairs.

Meanwhile, the Bohemian had taken from beneath his cloak a small phial filled with a reddish liquid, from which he poured into his companions' goblets, pretended to put some into his own glass, and took it up, saying:

"Can you think of such a thing, _beaux sires_? it is too late now, a young girl cannot go out at this time of night; the fair Miretta must have abandoned her walk, and you will take her some other time. Meanwhile, taste this _rozolio_, of which my lucky star enabled me to obtain a flask, and which I could not drink in better company!"

Passedix hastened to drink the liqueur which had been put before him, not, however, without pausing now and then to smack his lips; Cédrille did the same, stammering:

"Ah! jarnigué! that's good! That smacks of all sorts of things; I never drank anything so sweet. What do you call this?"

"Our venerable friend has just told you," hiccoughed Passedix, resting his arms on the table. "It's _ro--ro--rozo_----"

He was unable to finish the word. In a moment, his head sank on his arms and he fell asleep; Cédrille soon followed his example.

Thereupon the Bohemian rose, left the table, and walked hastily from the wine shop.