The Queen Pedauque | Page 7

him it was not the right moment to do so, and he
insisting on it, the limping cutler, who was sitting by me, tore his beard
rather roughly. Friar Ange threw himself on the cutler, who fell to the
ground, and by his fall upset the table and pitchers.
"The taverner, running up, seeing the table knocked over, the wine spilt,
and Friar Ange with one foot on the cutler's head, swinging a stool with
which he struck anyone approaching him, this vile taverner swore like a
real devil and called for the watch. Monsieur Ménétrier, do come at
once and take the little friar out of the watch's clutches. He is a holy
man, and quite excusable in this affair."
My father was inclined to oblige Catherine, but for this once the
lacemaker's words had not the effect she expected. He said plainly that

he could not find any excuse for the Capuchin, and that he wished him
to get a good punishment by bread and water in the darkest corner of
the cellars of the convent, of which he was the shame and disgrace.
He warmed up in talking:
"A drunkard and a dissipated fellow, to whom I give daily good wine
and good morsels and who goes to the tavern to play the deuce with
some ill-famed creatures, depraved enough to prefer the company of a
hawking cutler and a Capuchin friar to that of honest sworn tradesmen
of the quarter. Fie! fie!"
Therewith he suddenly stopped his scoldings and looked sideways on
my mother, who, standing up at the entry to the staircase, pushed her
knitting needles with sharp little strokes.
Catherine, surprised by this unfriendly reception, said drily:
"Then you don't want to say a good word to the taverner and the
sergeant?"
"If you wish it, I'll tell them to take the cutler and the friar."
"But," she replied, and laughed, "the cutler is your friend."
"Less mine than yours," said my father sharply. "A ragamuffin and a
humbug, who hops about----"
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "that's true, really true, that he hops. He hops,
hops, hops!"
And she left the shop, shaking with laughter.
My father turned round to the priest, who was picking a bone:
"It is as I had the honour to say to your reverence! For each reading and
writing lesson that Capuchin friar gives to my child, I pay him with a
goblet of wine and a fine piece of meat, hare, rabbit, goose, or a tender
poulet or a capon. He is a drunkard and evil liver!"

"Don't doubt about that," said the priest.
"But if ever he dares to come over my threshold again, I'll drive him
out with a broomstick."
"And you'll do well by it," said the priest; "that Capuchin is an ass, and
he taught your son rather to bray than to talk. You'll act wisely by
throwing into the fire that 'Life of St Catherine,' that prayer for the cure
of chilblains and that history of the bugbear, with which that monk
poisoned your son's mind. For the same price you paid for Friar Ange's
lessons, I'll give him my own; I'll teach him Latin and Greek, and
French also, that language which Voiture and Balzac have brought to
perfection. And in such way, by a luck doubly singular and favourable,
this Jacquot Tournebroche will become learned and I shall eat every
day,"
"Agreed!" said my father. "Barbara, bring two goblets. No business is
concluded without the contracting parties having a drink together as a
token of agreement. We will drink here. I'll never in my life put my
legs into the Little Bacchus again, so repugnant have that cutler and
that monk become to me."
The priest rose and, putting his hands on the back of his chair, said in a
slow and serious manner:
"Before all, I thank God, the Creator and Conserver of all things, for
having guided me into this hospitable house. It is He alone who
governs us and we are compelled to recognise His providence in all
matters human, notwithstanding that it is foolhardy and sometimes
incongruous to follow Him too closely. Because being universal He is
to be found in all sorts of encounters, sublime by the conduct which He
keeps, but obscene or ridiculous for the part man takes in it and which
is the only part where they appear to us. And therefore one must not
shout, in the manner of Capuchin monks and goody-goody women, that
God is to be seen in every trifle. Let us praise the Lord; pray to Him to
enlighten me in the teachings I'll give to that child, and for the rest let
us rely on His holy will, without searching to understand it in all its
details."

And raising his goblet,