Maximina Part 71

It was a mild afternoon, the mildest and most brilliant that spring had as yet bestowed that year on the citizens of Madrid.

The sun was setting. Through the open window our young secretary saw it descending between the trees over the wide plains of Vallecas, descending majestically till it reached the edge of a cloud, and casting a golden trail over the earth.

Carried away by the train of thought which often took possession of him, he began to speculate upon the time during which this...o...b..had thus been hurtling through s.p.a.ce. Toward what mysterious region of heaven, was it taking the earth in its tremendous march? From whence had that immense ma.s.s originally sprung? When and how would its light become extinguished?

He thought how its history, long as it seems, is only an instant in the history of Creation. In the numberless worlds which are forever forming and peris.h.i.+ng, what an insignificant role is played by this poor sun, which is the prime actor for us! Why, then, does it seem to us so great and so beautiful? Who saw, before we were created, that "wake of gold,"

as it is called by the poets? How many thousand years had it been sweeping across the earth without gilding other heads than those of gigantic saurians, pterodactyls, megalosauruses, and other fearful monsters?

The veil that hides the infinite mysteries of s.p.a.ce--will it some day be removed? will there be creatures who will ever understand them?

He spent much time buried in such thoughts, in ecstatic contemplation of the horizons, brought up before him by the frequent and long turns that they took in the carriage. When he came down from these heights, and cast his eyes on the equipages which were gathered in that delectable place, he was given the same impression as though he were looking upon an anthill; and what else was it, except that the ants, instead of working, were riding? By his side there were crowded together a mult.i.tude of atomic animals, with their faces fixed on the ground, carried along by other animals whom they had made their slaves. But ants also own slaves. All the masters, and the horses also, appeared to believe that they themselves, and nothing else, const.i.tuted the world; and their schemes, their desires, their loves, their _restaurants_, and their daily allowance of oats, the only and highest ends of creation.

But there among the pedestrians he saw a pale face adorned with a long white beard, with melancholy, dreamy eyes likewise fastened on the skies. As he pa.s.sed, this face smiled affectionately. Miguel replied, saying, "Good afternoon, Don Ventura."

It was the tenderest and most spontaneous of Spanish poets, the famous Ruiz Aguilera. Then his eyes fell upon Mendoza, who was dozing deliciously. He looked at him attentively for a few moments, and suddenly felt inclined to laugh.

"Poor man! he thinks that he is on the pinnacle of glory because he has the disposal for a few months of a few dozen offices, and to this he has consecrated his whole life, all the powers that G.o.d has given him.

To-morrow this man will die, and he will not have known the love of a tender and innocent wife, nor the enthusiasm awakened in the soul by a heroic action, nor the deep emotion caused by the study of nature, nor the pure delight in contemplating a work of art; he will never have thought, never felt, never loved! Nevertheless, he thinks in good faith that it is his right to swell with pride because a bell rings at the Ministerio when he comes in, and a few unhappy wretches take off their hats before him! How much energy and fawning meanness this ant has had to exercise in order that other ants may greet him respectfully!"

He could not help laughing out loud. Mendoza opened his eyes on hearing him, but being accustomed to these original sallies of his secretary, he instantly closed them again, and once more slumbered.

Miguel, however, went on with his thinking.

"Religion, art, love, heroism, these signs in which I think that I can see the expression of a more elevated nature--may they not also be illusions, like those which this poor devil has, of his own importance?

May not the far-off country to which I aspire be a false reflection of my own desires?"

The idea of annihilation came into his mind, and made him tremble.

"If all vanishes at the end like smoke, like a shadow, if the purest emotions of my soul, if my wife's love, if my boy's innocent smile, have the same worth in nature as the hate of the miscreant and the coa.r.s.e laughter of the vicious; if two beings unite and love only to be separated for an eternity, oh! how gladly would I hate you, infamous universe! If beyond those s.p.a.ces, beautiful as they are, there is no one capable of compa.s.sion, what is the worth of your mighty ma.s.ses, or your rythmic movements, or your tremendous rivers of light? I, miserable atom, am more n.o.ble, because I can love and can feel compa.s.sion...."

He remained a few moments lost in suspense, with his eyes fixed on vacancy. A strange depression, such as he had rarely felt, was gradually taking possession of his spirit. In thought he took a rapid survey of his past life, and it appeared to him like a chain of misfortunes; even the pleasures of his youth seemed to him detestable and beneath contempt. In it there was only one delicious and sweet oasis,--the two years of his marriage.

"If all men," he said to himself, "were to look back, they would find it the same; perhaps even worse, because the majority have not been blessed as I have, by Heaven, for a few short moments."

His memory brought up a few friends who had died in the flower of life after cruel sufferings; others, who, weary of struggling against fate, had fallen at last into the depths of misery; he saw the n.o.blest and most intelligent of them filling humble stations, and elevating the low and degraded ones; he remembered his good father, whose last years were embittered by a proud and wilful wife; he remembered his sister, a creature all light and joy, vilely deceived and forever disgraced; he remembered finally that angelic half of his own being s.n.a.t.c.hed from the world when she had just touched her lips to the cup of happiness....

Creation suddenly presented itself before him in a terrible aspect; beings pitilessly devouring each other; the stronger constantly pus.h.i.+ng the weaker to the wall--all deceived by the illusion of happiness which is beyond the reach of any, working, suffering for the advantage of other species, and these for still others, and so on to infinity! The world, in fine, appeared to him like an immense fraud, a place of torment for all living beings, more cruel still for those gifted with consciousness; absolute happiness for the All-existent because It is and ever will be: absolute misery for individuals, because they will eternally be created anew to suffer and to die.

Before that terrible picture which he saw in the intensest light, his soul was tormented, and a shudder of horror shook his frame.

"My G.o.d! my G.o.d! why hast thou forsaken me?" his trembling lips repeated again and again, and a wrenching sob which had been gathering for some time in the depths of his breast suddenly burst forth.

The minister opened his eyes; in affright.

"Man alive!" said he, "you spend your life either laughing or crying."

"That is true," replied the secretary, raising his handkerchief to his eyes.

END OF THE NOVEL.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Foolish maiden.

[2] She says _Usted esta_ instead of _tu estas_.

[3] Galicia is the northwestern province of Spain.

[4] Using _Usted_, contraction for _Vuestra merced_; literally, your grace.

[5] Brigadier-General Rivera's widow, Miguel's step-mother.

[6] _El buen Retiro_, a public park and drive in Madrid, formerly the pleasure ground of the Spanish kings.

[7] _El reservado del Suizo._

[8] Lady-killers, literally, drivers of cattle.

[9] _Hasta manana_, literally, till morning.

[10] Dollars: _pesos duros_ or _pesos fuertos_ is the full expression.

It contains twenty _reales_.

[11] Twenty-five dollars.

[12] Equivalent to Mr. Such-an-one.

[13] Sweetmeats made of flour, sugar, and rose-water.

[14] Academia de Estado Mayor.

[15] _De tre manera lo se esi ... percurador, porcurador, precurador._

[16] Almost corresponding to our vulgar "son of a gun."

[17] _Pasacalle_; song with guitar accompaniment sung on the street.

[18] _Bonita_, _graciosa_, _elegante_, _encantadora_.

[19] _Tertulia._

[20] All Madrid apartments have a small opening, called _ventanilla_, in the entrance door.

[21] A word similar in meaning to our "sympathetic," but not quite synonymous; more akin to "congenial."

[22] Lucia Poblacion, _la generala_ of "Riverita," was the lady to whom Miguel, when a young man, had been quite too attentive.