The Peasant and the Prince | Page 7

the old king, languishing in the midst of costly pleasures, so vicious
that by every indulgence he purchased the curses of virtuous families,
and the hatred of the poor,--besides all the extravagances in that quarter,
there were the nobility, sitting heavy upon the people throughout the
land, like the nightmare upon the sleep of a wearied man. These nobles
must all be rich,--must all be pampered in luxury, though not one of
them would work with his head or hands. If a nobleman had five sons,
they must all be pampered alike; and the sons of five hundred peasants
must be oppressed, to supply the means.
Randolphe said he had little thought to see the day when he should hear
soldiers say these things openly at his own door. His face brightened as
he declared this, though his wife again coughed more than once.
Jerome replied that it was a common thing now to hear these things
told; for the oppressed do get to speak out, sooner or later. The story of
the king's meeting a coffin was in everybody's mouth. No one here had
heard it: so Jerome told that the king was fond of asking questions of
strangers, and particularly about disease, death, and churchyards;
because he thought his gay attendants did not like to hear of such things.
One day, he was hunting in the forest of Senard, when he met a man on
horseback, carrying a coffin.
"Where are you carrying that coffin?" asked the king.

"To the village yonder."
"Is it for a man or a woman?"
"For a man."
"What did he die of?"
"Of hunger."
The king clapped spurs to his horse, and rode away.
"He might find the same thing happening in many other villages," said
Randolphe, stroking the thin cheeks of his boy Robin. "Look here!"
showing the boy's arm. "Is this an arm that can work or fight as a
Frenchman's should do, when my boy is a man?"
"Things may be different when that boy is a man," said the smoker,
between two whiffs of his pipe.
"How? Where? When? Why? Is anything going to be done for the
poor?" asked Randolphe and his family, within and without doors.
"I don't know when and how: but I think you need not ask why, if you
live some days of the week upon boiled nettles, as many of your
neighbours do. Those that have looked into the matter say that the
country people (they who really do the work of the land) possess only
one-third of the country, and yet pay three-fourths of the taxes. One
does not see why this should go on, when once they choose that it shall
not: and many think that they won't choose it much longer."
"And then something will be done for the poor?" said the hostess,
coming to the door.
"Certainly; unless the rich do something for the poor first; which would
be their wisest way."
"But if the rich should not choose to do anything for us?" said Robin.

"Then they must look to themselves."
"And what will happen to them? What will happen to the Dauphiness?"
"Oh, poor lady! There is no saying that. She knows little of what the
French people are suffering, and nothing of what they are thinking.
How should she? What notion should she have of poverty and the poor,
when she is now buying, out of her allowance, a pair of ear-rings that
cost 360,000 francs?"
[Note: This is fact; but it happened a little later in her history,
immediately after she became queen: 360,000 francs are about 15,000
pounds.]
"You are joking, comrade."
"No, it is true. She thinks there is no harm in it, because she will pay
the whole out of her own allowance, year by year; and the diamonds
are so rare and wonderful that she thinks she has a good bargain. What
should she know of poverty and the poor?"
"God bless her!" said the hostess, "and may she never know what it is
to eat boiled nettles, for want of anything better!"
"I wish she would have done with throwing away our money in
diamonds at that rate," said Randolphe, gloomily. "The people will not
love her if she does. We all know it is what we pay for this cursed salt,
and our poll-tax, and all our grinding taxes, that go to pay for such
freaks as these."
"Well, love," said his wife, "she is young, and may learn. Don't let us
be grudging to her as a stranger."
"Not I, love; I would grudge her nothing, if only I could give my family
food that would make them plump and rosy, as I hope to see this lady
to-morrow, and if I could but apprentice my boys to some