by Corry Shores
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[The following is summary. Boldface, underlining, bracketed commentary, and section subdivisions are my own. Proofreading is incomplete, so please forgive my mistakes. Text is copied from online sources (see bibliography below).]
Summary of
Alexandre Dumas
Le meneur de loups
The Wolf-Leader
3
“Agnelette”
(Image from archive.org)
Brief summary:
(3.1) (Recall from section 2 that the Chief Wolf Hunter, Baron Vez, was hunting a buck with his party. Thibault the sabot-maker, who has a hut in the woods, saw the buck, but resents the Baron’s privilege. Thibault refused to give information to help Vez locate the buck, and the Baron beat him down for his insolence. Thibault, wanting vengeance, hunted the wolf for himself but with no success. Before giving up completely, he called out to God or even the Devil, whoever would hear his plea, to help him catch the buck. After giving up, he threw his spear in the bushes, but thereby without his knowing hits the buck. Vez arrived with his hunting party and they discovered this fact.) Vez and the head keeper of the hounds Engoulevent inspect the boar-spear and see Thibault’s sabot marking on it. Vez then announces to Thibault that he has committed the crimes of poaching and perjury (for having lied about killing the buck. See section 2.3). Vez will now punish Thibault, calling for Marcotte the pricker to strip Thibault and tie him to a tree for a whipping. Thibault swears he did not kill the buck (which is true as far as he knows), but he is whipped mercilessly anyway by Marcotte.” (3.2) Vez turns away to leave so not to have to witness the full punishment, but “As he was on the point of doing this, a young girl suddenly emerged from the underwood, threw herself on her knees beside the horse, and lifting her large, beautiful eyes, all wet with tears, to the Baron, cried: ‘In the name of the God of mercy, my Lord, have pity on that man!’ ” The girl was beautiful and about 16 years old. “Ten thousand fiends [Mille charretées de diables verts] !” Vez exclaims and asks if she has any relation to Thibault. She says she has never seen him before. Vez bargains with her that if she kisses him, he will let Thibault go. She agrees, mounts on his horse with him, and offers him her cheek. He kisses her twice and calls for Thibault to be brought down. Marcotte gives one last, powerful blow, and Thibault is taken down. She tells Vez that her name is Georgine Agnelette. The Baron says it is an unlucky name, because “it makes you a prey for the wolf”. (Perhaps there is some relation of her name with agnus.) She further explains that she is from Préciamont and that she comes here to get grass for her three goats. Vez asks if she is ever afraid, and she says that sometimes she trembles, explaining: “I hear so many tales, during the winter evenings, about were-wolves [loups-garous], that when I find myself all alone among the trees, and can hear no sound but the west wind, and the branches creaking as it blows through them, I feel a kind of shiver run through me, and my hair seems to stand on end; but when I hear your hunting horn and the dogs crying, then I feel at once quite safe again.” Vez invites Agnelette to his castle, because there she would be protected from were-wolves. (“Come in future to the Castle of Vez; no were-wolf, or any other kind of wolf, has ever crossed the moat there, except when slung by a cord on to a hazel-pole.”) She declines, “Because I should find something worse there than the wolf.” (She is apparently referring to Vez.) Vez and his men all laugh, but when Marcotte indicates they have a long trip back, Vez and his party depart, leaving Agnelette with Thibault. (3.3) Agnelette and Thibault are now alone. Although Thibault should now feel grateful to Agnellete or appreciate her beauty, he is instead full of hatred for Vez. “Thibault, as you see, had, since the morning, been making rapid strides along the path of evil [la voie du mal]. ‘Ah! if the devil [le diable] will but hear my prayer this time,’ he cried, as he shook his fist, cursing the while, after the retiring huntsmen, who were just out of view, ‘if the devil will but hear me, you shall be paid back with usury for all you have made me suffer this day, that I swear’.” Agnelette says, “Oh, how wicked it is [que c’est mal] of you to behave like that!” She notes how gentle Vez is with women and reminds Thibault that he deserved his punishment. For, Thibault is hunting on Vez’s grounds. Agnelette says she saw him throw the spear at the buck. Agnelette also informs him that she knows him from the fête, where he was called “the beautiful dancer” and was watched by a crowd. He then remembers he danced with her, but she declined his request for a kiss. Thibault then compliments her beauty, and she blushes. He asks her if she has a lover. She says no and that she has no desire for one, because what she really wants is a husband. For, she needs to take care of her grandmother, and a husband could help her do that. Thibault asks if the husband would not get jealous from how much she loved her grandmother, and Agnelette assures him that she would give plenty of love to her husband: “Oh! how I should love the man who loved my grandmother! I promise you, that she, and my husband, and I, we should be three happy folks together.” Thibault notes that they would be very poor. Agnelette replies that the love they give each other would make them quite fortunate. Thibault then wonders to himself if it would not be better to be poor with Agnelette than to have a noblewoman. Thibault then proposes marriage to her. Agnelette does not agree yet but invites Thibault to see her grandmother, who will make the decision. He then helps her home with her burden, and when they depart he asks for and receives a kiss from her. But Thibault does not truly love her or feel fortunate for her but rather longs “for everything that belonged or might belong to another.” And “the farther he walked away from Agnelette ... the more urgently did his envious longings begin again as usual to torment his soul. It was dark when he reached home.”
[Thibault’s Whipping]
[Agnelette’s Rescue of Thibault]
[Thibault’s Marriage Proposal to Agnelette]
Summary
[Thibault’s Whipping]
[(Recall from section 2 that the Chief Wolf Hunter, Baron Vez, was hunting a buck with his party. Thibault the sabot-maker, who has a hut in the woods, saw the buck, but resents the Baron’s privilege. Thibault refused to give information to help Vez locate the buck, and the Baron beats him down for his insolence. Thibault, wanting vengeance, hunted the wolf for himself but with no success. Before giving up completely, he called out to God or even the Devil, whoever would hear his plea, to help him catch the buck. After giving up, he threw his spear in the bushes, but thereby without his knowing hits the buck. Vez arrived with his hunting party and they discovered this fact.) Vez and the head keeper of the hounds Engoulevent inspect the boar-spear and see Thibault’s sabot marking on it. Vez then announces to Thibault that he has committed the crimes of poaching and perjury (for having lied about killing the buck. See section 2.3). Vez will now punish Thibault, calling for Marcotte the pricker to strip Thibault and tie him to a tree for a whipping. Thibault swears he did not kill the buck (which is true as far as he knows), but he is whipped mercilessly anyway by Marcotte.”]
[ditto]
Le seigneur Jean prit l’arme des mains d’Engoulevent, considéra longtemps l’épieu depuis la pointe jusqu’au manche, et cela sans mot dire.
Puis il montra au sabotier l’image d’un petit sabot sculptée sur la poignée, laquelle image servait à Thibault pour reconnaître sa propriété.
Ce sabot, c’était son chiffre comme compagnon du tour de France.
– Ah ! ah ! monsieur le drôle ! fit le grand louvetier, voici qui témoigne terriblement contre vous ! Savez-vous que cet épieu-là sent la venaison en diable, hum ! Or, voici ce qui me reste à vous dire, mon maître : vous avez braconné, ce qui est un gros crime ; vous vous êtes parjuré, ce qui est un gros péché ; nous allons, pour le salut de votre âme, par lequel vous avez juré, vous faire expier tout cela.
Alors, se retournant vers le premier piqueur :
– Marcotte, lui dit-il, prends-moi deux couples et lie-moi ce drôle-là à un arbre après lui avoir ôté veste et chemise ; puis tu lui appliqueras sur l’échine trente-six coups de ton baudrier, une douzaine pour le parjure, deux douzaines pour le braconnage ; non ! je me trompe : une douzaine, au contraire, pour le braconnage et deux douzaines pour le parjure ; il faut faire large la part du Bon Dieu.
Cet ordre était une bonne fortune pour la valetaille, qui se trouvait bien joyeuse d’avoir un patient sur lequel elle pût se venger de sa déconvenue de la journée.
Malgré les protestations de Thibault, qui jurait par tous les saints du calendrier qu’il n’avait occis ni daim ni daine, ni bique, ni biquet, le braconnier fut dépouillé de sa veste et attaché solidement au tronc d’un arbre.
Puis l’exécution commença.
Le piqueur frappait si serré que, quoique Thibault se fût juré à lui-même de ne point pousser une plainte, et se mordît les lèvres pour tenir son serment, au troisième coup le patient desserra les dents et jeta un cri.
(57-58)
THE Baron took the weapon which Engoulevent handed him, and carefully and deliberately examined the boar-spear from point to handle, without saying a word. On the handle had been carved a little wooden shoe, which had served as Thibault’s device while making the tour of France, as thereby he was able to recognise his own weapon. The Baron now pointed to this, saying to Thibault as he did so:
“Ah, ah, Master Simpleton! there is something which witnesses terribly against you! I must confess this boar-spear smells to me uncommonly of venison, by the devil it does! However, all I have now to say to you is this: You have been poaching, which is a serious crime; you have perjured yourself, which is a great sin; I am going to enforce expiation from you for the one and for the other, to help towards the salvation of that soul by which you have sworn.”
Whereupon turning to the pricker, he continued: “Marcotte, strip off that rascal’s vest and shirt, and tie him up to a tree with a couple of the dog leashes—and then give him thirty-six strokes across the back with your shoulder belt, a dozen for his perjury, and two dozen for his poaching; no, I make a mistake, a dozen for poaching and two dozen for perjuring himself, God’s portion must be the largest.”
This order caused great rejoicing among the menials, who thought it good luck to have a culprit on whom they could avenge themselves for the mishaps of the day.
In spite of Thibault’s protestations, who swore by all the saints in the calender, that he had killed neither buck, nor doe, neither goat nor kidling, he was divested of his garments and firmly strapped to the trunk of a tree; then the execution commenced.
The pricker’s strokes were so heavy that Thibault, who had sworn not to utter a sound, and bit his lips to enable himself to keep his resolution, was forced at the third blow to open his mouth and cry out.
(22)
[Agnelette’s Rescue of Thibault]
[Vez turns away to leave so not to have to witness the full punishment, but “As he was on the point of doing this, a young girl suddenly emerged from the underwood, threw herself on her knees beside the horse, and lifting her large, beautiful eyes, all wet with tears, to the Baron, cried: ‘In the name of the God of mercy, my Lord, have pity on that man!’ ” The girl was beautiful and about 16 years old. “Ten thousand fiends [Mille charretées de diables verts] !” Vez exclaims and asks if she has any relation to Thibault. She says she has never seen him before. Vez bargains with her that if she kisses him, he will let Thibault go. She agrees, mounts on his horse with him, and offers him her cheek. He kisses her twice and calls for Thibault to be brought down. Marcotte gives one last, powerful blow, and Thibault is taken down. She tells Vez that her name is Georgine Agnelette. The Baron says it is an unlucky name, because “it makes you a prey for the wolf”. (Perhaps there is some relation of her name with agnus.) She further explains that she is from Préciamont and that she comes here to get grass for her three goats. Vez asks if she is ever afraid, and she says that sometimes she trembles, explaining: “I hear so many tales, during the winter evenings, about were-wolves [loups-garous], that when I find myself all alone among the trees, and can hear no sound but the west wind, and the branches creaking as it blows through them, I feel a kind of shiver run through me, and my hair seems to stand on end; but when I hear your hunting horn and the dogs crying, then I feel at once quite safe again.” Vez invites Agnelette to his castle, because there she would be protected from were-wolves. (“Come in future to the Castle of Vez; no were-wolf, or any other kind of wolf, has ever crossed the moat there, except when slung by a cord on to a hazel-pole.”) She declines, “Because I should find something worse there than the wolf.” (She is apparently referring to Vez.) Vez and his men all laugh, but when Marcotte indicates they have a long trip back, Vez and his party depart, leaving Agnelette with Thibault.]
[ditto]
Le seigneur Jean était peut-être, comme on a pu s’en apercevoir, le seigneur le plus brutal qu’il y eût à dix lieues à la ronde, mais il n’avait pas le cœur dur ; les plaintes du coupable, qui allaient redoublant, lui firent peine à entendre.
Cependant, comme le braconnage devenait de plus en plus audacieux sur les domaines de Son Altesse Sérénissime, il était décidé à laisser le jugement s’exécuter.
Seulement, il résolut de se soustraire à ce spectacle et fit tourner bride à son cheval pour s’éloigner.
Au moment où il exécutait cette manœuvre, une jeune fille sortant du taillis se jeta à genoux au flanc de son cheval, et, levant sur le seigneur Jean ses beaux grands yeux tout humides de larmes :
– Monseigneur, dit-elle, au nom de Dieu miséricordieux, grâce pour cet homme !
Le seigneur Jean abaissa les yeux sur la jeune fille.
C’était en vérité une charmante enfant ; elle avait seize ans à peine, la taille fine et élancée, la figure rose et blanche, de grands yeux bleus doux et tendres, et une couronne de cheveux blonds si luxuriants, que le méchant bonnet de toile bise qui couvrait sa tête ne pouvait parvenir à les emprisonner, si bien qu’ils débordaient à flots de tous côtés.
Quoique le costume de la belle suppliante fût des plus humbles, étant fait de simple toile, le seigneur Jean remarqua tout cela, et, comme il ne haïssait pas les jolis minois, il répondit par un sourire à l’éloquence du regard de la charmante paysanne.
Mais, comme il la regardait sans lui répondre, et que, pendant ce temps-là, les coups allaient toujours, elle ajouta d’une voix et avec un geste plus suppliants encore :
– Grâce, au nom du Ciel, monseigneur ! Dites à vos gens de laisser aller ce pauvre homme, dont les cris me fendent le cœur.
– Mille charretées de diables verts ! répondit le louvetier ; tu t’intéresses bien à ce drôle, ma belle enfant ! Est-ce donc ton frère ?
– Non, monseigneur.
– Ton cousin ?
– Non, monseigneur.
– Ton amoureux ?
– Mon amoureux ! Monseigneur veut rire.
– Pourquoi pas ? Dans ce cas, ma belle fille, je t’avoue que j’envierais son sort.
L’enfant baissa les yeux.
– Je ne le connais pas, monseigneur, et je le vois aujourd’hui pour la première fois.
– Sans compter qu’elle le voit à l’envers, hasarda Engoulevent, qui crut que c’était le moment de placer une mauvaise plaisanterie.
– Silence, là-bas ! dit durement le baron.
Puis, revenant à la jeune fille avec son sourire :
– Vraiment ! dit le baron. Eh bien, s’il n’est ni ton parent ni ton amoureux, je veux voir jusqu’où tu pousseras l’amour de ton prochain : un marché, la jolie fille !
– Lequel, monseigneur ?
– La grâce de ce maraud contre un baiser.
– Oh ! de grand cœur ! s’écria la jeune fille. Racheter pour un baiser la vie d’un homme ! Je suis sûre que M. le curé lui-même dirait que ce n’est point pécher.
Et, sans attendre que le seigneur Jean se baissât pour prendre lui-même ce qu’il sollicitait, elle jeta son sabot loin d’elle, appuya son pied mignon sur l’extrémité de la botte du louvetier, prit en main la crinière du cheval, fit un effort, et, s’élevant à la hauteur du visage du rude veneur, elle présenta d’elle-même à ses lèvres ses joues rondes, fraîches et veloutées comme le duvet de la pêche au mois d’août.
Le seigneur Jean était convenu d’un baiser, mais il en prit deux ; puis, fidèle observateur de la foi jurée, il fit signe à Marcotte de suspendre l’exécution.
Marcotte comptait scrupuleusement les coups : le douzième était en l’air lorsqu’il reçut l’ordre de s’arrêter. Il ne jugea point à propos de le retenir ; peut-être même pensa-t-il qu’il serait convenable de lui donner la valeur de deux horions ordinaires, afin de faire bonne mesure et de donner le treizième ; toujours est-il que celui-là sillonna plus rudement encore que les autres les épaules de Thibault.
Il est vrai qu’on le détacha immédiatement après. Pendant ce temps, le baron Jean causait avec la jeune fille.
– Comment te nomme-t-on, ma mignonne ?
– Georgine Agnelet, monseigneur, du nom de ma mère : mais les gens du pays se contentent de m’appeler Agnelette.
– Diable ! voici un mauvais nom, mon enfant, dit le baron.
– Pourquoi cela, monseigneur ? demanda la jeune fille.
– Parce qu’il te promet au loup, la belle. Et de quel pays es-tu, Agnelette ?
– Je suis de Préciamont, monseigneur.
– Et tu viens ainsi seule en forêt, mon enfant ? C’est bien hardi pour une agnelette.
– Il le faut bien, monseigneur. Nous avons trois chèvres qui nous nourrissent, ma mère et moi.
– Alors tu viens à l’herbe pour les chèvres ?
– Oui, monseigneur.
– Et tu n’as pas peur ainsi, toute seule, jeune et jolie comme tu es ?
– Quelquefois, monseigneur, je ne puis m’empêcher de trembler.
– Et pourquoi trembles-tu ?
– Dame ! monseigneur, on raconte aux soirées d’hiver tant d’histoires de loups-garous, que, lorsque je me vois perdue au milieu des arbres, lorsque je n’entends plus que le vent de l’ouest qui fait craquer leurs branches, il me court une espèce de frisson le long du corps, et je sens mes cheveux qui se roidissent. Lorsque j’entends le bruit de votre trompe ou les cris de vos chiens, je suis tout de suite rassurée.
Cette réponse plut énormément au baron Jean, qui reprit, en caressant complaisamment sa barbe :
– Il est vrai que nous leur faisons une assez rude guerre, à messieurs les loups ; mais, par la mort-Dieu, ma belle, il est un moyen de t’épargner désormais ces inquiétudes.
– Lequel, monseigneur ?
– Viens-t’en à l’avenir au château de Vez : jamais loup, garou ou non garou, n’en a franchi le fossé ni la poterne, autrement que pendu par une hart à une perche de coudrier.
Agnelette secoua la tête.
– Non, tu ne veux pas ? Et pourquoi refuses-tu ?
– Parce que je trouverais là pis que le loup.
La réponse provoqua chez le baron Jean un joyeux éclat de rire, et toute la bande des veneurs, voyant rire le maître, fit chorus avec lui. En effet, la vue d’Agnelette avait rendu au seigneur de Vez toute sa bonne humeur, et peut-être serait-il resté un assez long temps à rire et à causer avec elle, si Marcotte, qui avait sonné la retraite manquée et accouplé les chiens, n’eût respectueusement rappelé à monseigneur qu’il lui restait un assez long trajet à faire pour regagner le château. Le seigneur Jean fit du doigt à la jeune fille un signe affectueusement menaçant et s’éloigna suivi de ses gens.
(58-62)
The Baron, as we have already seen, was about the roughest man of his class for a good thirty miles round, but he was not hard-hearted, and it was a distress to him to listen to the cries of the culprit as they became more and more frequent. As, however, the poachers on His Highness’s estate had of late grown bolder and more troublesome, he decided that he had better let the sentence be carried out to the full, but he turned his horse with the intention of riding away, determined no longer to remain as a spectator.
As he was on the point of doing this, a young girl suddenly emerged from the underwood, threw herself on her knees beside the horse, and lifting her large, beautiful eyes, all wet with tears, to the Baron, cried:
“In the name of the God of mercy, my Lord, have pity on that man!”
The Lord of Vez looked down at the young girl. She was indeed a lovely child; hardly sixteen years of age, of a slender and exquisite figure, with a pink and white complexion, large blue eyes, soft and tender in expression, and a crown of fair hair, which fell in luxuriant waves over neck and shoulders, escaping from underneath the shabby little grey linen cap, which endeavoured in vain to imprison them.
All this the Baron took in with a glance, in spite of the humble clothing of the beautiful suppliant, and as he had no dislike to a pretty face, he smiled down on the charming young peasant girl, in response to the pleading of her eloquent eyes.
But, as he looked without speaking, and all the while the blows were still falling, she cried again, with a voice and gesture of even more earnest supplication.
“Have pity, in the name of Heaven, my Lord! Tell your servants to let the poor man go, his cries pierce my heart.”
“Ten thousand fiends [Mille charretées de diables verts] !” cried the Grand Master; “you take a great interest in that rascal over there, my pretty child. Is he your brother?”
“No, my Lord.”
“Your cousin?”
“No, my Lord.”
“Your lover?”
“My lover! My Lord is laughing at me.”
“Why not? If it were so, my sweet girl, I must confess I should envy him his lot.”
The girl lowered her eyes.
“I do not know him, my Lord, and have never seen him before to-day.”
“Without counting that now she only sees him wrong side before,” Engoulevent ventured to put in, thinking that it was a suitable moment for a little pleasantry.
“Silence, sirrah!” said the Baron sternly. Then, once more turning to the girl with a smile.
“Really!” he said. “Well, if he is neither a relation nor a lover, I should like to see how far your love for your neighbour will let you go. Come, a bargain, pretty girl!”
“How, my Lord?”
“Grace for that scoundrel in return for a kiss.”
“Oh! with all my heart!” cried the young girl. “Save the life of a man with a kiss! I am sure that our good Curé himself would say there was no sin in that.”
And without waiting for the Baron to stoop and take himself what he had asked for, she threw off her wooden-shoe, placed her dainty little foot on the tip of the wolf-hunter’s boot, and taking hold of the horse’s mane, lifted herself up with a spring to the level of the face of the hardy huntsman, and there of her own accord offered him her round cheek, fresh, and velvety as the down of an August peach.
The Lord of Vez had bargained for one kiss, but he took two; then, true to his sworn word, he made a sign to Marcotte to stay the execution.
Marcotte was religiously counting his strokes; the twelfth was about to descend when he received the order to stop, and he did not think it expedient to stay it from falling. It is possible that he also thought it would be as well to give it the weight of two ordinary blows, so as to make up good measure and give a thirteenth in; however that may be, it is certain that it furrowed Thibault’s shoulders more cruelly than those that went before. It must be added, however, that he was unbound immediately after.
Meanwhile the Baron was conversing with the young girl.
“What is your name, my pretty one?”
“Georgine Agnelette, my Lord, my mother’s name! but the country people are content to call me simply Agnelette.”
“Ah, that’s an unlucky name, my child,” said the Baron.
“In what way my Lord?” asked the girl.
“Because it makes you a prey for the wolf, my beauty. And from what part of the country do you come, Agnelette?”
“From Préciamont, my Lord.”
“And you come alone like this into the forest, my child? that’s brave for a lambkin.”
“I am obliged to do it, my Lord, for my mother and I have three goats to feed.”
“So you come here to get grass for them?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“And you are not afraid, young and pretty as you are?”
“Sometimes, my Lord, I cannot help trembling.”
“And why do you tremble?”
“Well, my Lord, I hear so many tales, during the winter evenings, about were-wolves [loups-garous], that when I find myself all alone among the trees, and can hear no sound but the west wind, and the branches creaking as it blows through them, I feel a kind of shiver run through me, and my hair seems to stand on end; but when I hear your hunting horn and the dogs crying, then I feel at once quite safe again.”
The Baron was pleased beyond measure with this reply of the girl’s, and stroking his beard complaisantly, he said:
“Well, we give Master Wolf a pretty rough time of it; but, there is a way, my pretty one, whereby you may spare yourself all these fears and tremblings.”
“And how, my Lord?”
“Come in future to the Castle of Vez; no were-wolf, or any other kind of wolf, has ever crossed the moat there, except when slung by a cord on to a hazel-pole.”
Agnelette shook her head.
“You would not like to come? and why not?”
“Because I should find something worse there than the wolf.”
On hearing this, the Baron broke into a hearty fit of laughter, and, seeing their Master laugh, all the huntsmen followed suit and joined in the chorus. The fact was, that the sight of Agnelette had entirely restored the good humour of the Lord of Vez, and he would, no doubt, have continued for some time laughing and talking with Agnelette, if Marcotte, who had been recalling the dogs, and coupling them, had not respectfully reminded my Lord that they had some distance to go on their way back to the Castle. The Baron made a playful gesture of menace with his finger to the girl, and rode off followed by his train.
(22-24)
[Thibault’s Marriage Proposal to Agnelette]
[Agnelette and Thibault are now alone. Although Thibault should now feel grateful to Agnellete or appreciate her beauty, he is instead full of hatred for Vez. “Thibault, as you see, had, since the morning, been making rapid strides along the path of evil [la voie du mal]. ‘Ah! if the devil [le diable] will but hear my prayer this time,’ he cried, as he shook his fist, cursing the while, after the retiring huntsmen, who were just out of view, ‘if the devil will but hear me, you shall be paid back with usury for all you have made me suffer this day, that I swear’.” Agnelette says, “Oh, how wicked it is [que c’est mal] of you to behave like that!” She notes how gentle Vez is with women and reminds Thibault that he deserved his punishment. For, Thibault is hunting on Vez’s grounds. Agnelette says she saw him throw the spear at the buck. Agnelette also informs him that she knows him from the fête, where he was called “the beautiful dancer” and was watched by a crowd. He then remembers he danced with her, but she declined his request for a kiss. Thibault then compliments her beauty, and she blushes. He asks her if she has a lover. She says no and that she has no desire for one, because what she really wants is a husband. For, she needs to take care of her grandmother, and a husband could help her do that. Thibault asks if the husband would not get jealous from how much she loved her grandmother, and Agnelette assures him that she would give plenty of love to her husband: “Oh! how I should love the man who loved my grandmother! I promise you, that she, and my husband, and I, we should be three happy folks together.” Thibault notes that they would be very poor. Agnelette replies that the love they give each other would make them quite fortunate. Thibault then wonders to himself if it would not be better to be poor with Agnelette than to have a noblewoman. Thibault then proposes marriage to her. Agnelette does not agree yet but invites Thibault to see her grandmother, who will make the decision. He then helps her home with her burden, and when they depart he asks for and receives a kiss from her. But Thibault does not truly love her or feel fortunate for her but rather longs “for everything that belonged or might belong to another.” And “the farther he walked away from Agnelette ... the more urgently did his envious longings begin again as usual to torment his soul. It was dark when he reached home.”]
[ditto]
Agnelette demeura seule avec Thibault.
Nous avons dit ce qu’Agnelette avait fait pour Thibault, et combien Agnelette était jolie.
Eh bien, cependant, la première pensée de Thibault, en se trouvant seul avec la jeune fille, ne fut point pour celle qui venait de le sauver ; sa première pensée fut pour la haine et la vengeance.
Comme on le voit, depuis le matin, Thibault marchait rondement dans la voie du mal.
– Ah ! si le diable cette fois m’exauce, seigneur maudit ! s’écria-t-il en montrant le poing à tout le cortège qui venait de disparaître ; si le diable m’exauce, je te rendrai avec usure tout ce que tu m’as fait souffrir aujourd’hui, va !
– Ah ! que c’est mal, ce que vous faites là ! dit Agnelette en s’approchant de Thibault. Le baron Jean est un bon seigneur, fort humain avec le pauvre monde, et toujours courtois avec les femmes.
– Bon ! vous allez voir que je lui devrai de la reconnaissance sur les coups qu’il m’a baillés.
– Allons, tout franc, compère ! dit en riant la fillette, avouez que ces coups-là, vous ne les aviez pas volés.
– Ah ! ah ! fit Thibault, il paraît que le baiser du seigneur Jean vous a tout affolée, la belle Agnelette ?
– Je n’eusse jamais pensé que ce baiser-là, ce serait vous qui me le reprocheriez, monsieur Thibault ; mais ce que j’ai dit, je le soutiens : le seigneur Jean était dans son droit.
– En me faisant rouer de coups ?
– Dame ! pourquoi chassez-vous sur les terres des grands seigneurs ?
– Est-ce que le gibier n’est pas à tout le monde, aussi bien aux paysans qu’aux grands seigneurs ?
– Non ; car le gibier se tient dans leurs bois, se nourrit de leur herbe, et vous n’avez pas le droit de lancer votre épieu sur un daim de monseigneur le duc d’Orléans.
– Qui donc vous a dit que j’eusse lancé mon épieu sur son daim ? répondit Thibault en s’avançant sur Agnelette d’un air presque menaçant.
– Qui me l’a dit ? Mes yeux, qui, je vous en préviens, monsieur Thibault, ne sont pas des menteurs. Oui, je vous ai vu lancer votre épieu, là, lorsque vous étiez caché derrière ce hêtre.
L’assurance avec laquelle la jeune fille opposait la vérité à son mensonge fit incontinent tomber la colère de Thibault.
– Eh bien, après tout, dit-il, quand une fois, par hasard, un pauvre diable ferait bonne chère avec le superflu d’un grand seigneur ! Êtes-vous aussi de l’avis des juges, mademoiselle Agnelette, qui disent que l’on doit pendre un homme pour un malheureux lapin ? Voyons, pensez-vous que le Bon Dieu avait créé ce daim plutôt pour le baron Jean que pour moi ?
– Le Bon Dieu, monsieur Thibault, nous a dit de ne pas convoiter le bien d’autrui ; suivez la loi du Bon Dieu, et vous ne vous en trouverez pas plus mal !
– Ah çà ! vous me connaissez donc, la belle Agnelette, que vous m’appelez comme ça tout couramment par mon nom ?
– Mais oui ; je me rappelle vous avoir vu un jour à la fête de Boursonnes ; on vous appelait le beau danseur, et l’on faisait cercle autour de vous.
Ce compliment acheva de désarmer Thibault.
– Oui, oui, dit-il ; moi aussi, à présent, je me rappelle vous avoir vue. Eh bien, mais, à cette même fête de Boursonnes, nous avons dansé ensemble ; seulement, vous étiez moins grande qu’à cette heure : voilà pourquoi je ne vous reconnaissais pas ; mais je vous reconnais maintenant. Oui, vous aviez une robe rose et un joli petit corsage blanc ; nous avons dansé dans la laiterie. J’ai voulu vous embrasser ; mais vous n’avez pas voulu, disant que l’on n’embrassait que son vis-à-vis et non sa danseuse.
– Ah ! vous avez bonne mémoire, monsieur Thibault !
– Savez-vous, Agnelette, que cette année, car il y a un an de cela, vous avez profité pour embellir en même temps que pour grandir ? Ah ! vous vous y entendez, vous, pour faire deux choses à la fois !
La jeune fille rougit et baissa les yeux. Sa rougeur et son embarras ajoutèrent au charme de sa physionomie. Thibault se prit à la considérer plus attentivement que jamais.
– Avez-vous un amoureux, Agnelette ? demanda-t-il à la belle fille d’une voix qui n’était point exempte d’une certaine émotion.
– Non, monsieur Thibault, dit-elle, je n’en ai point et ne peux ni ne veux en avoir.
– Et pourquoi cela ? L’amour est-il donc si mauvais garçon, qu’il vous fasse peur ?
– Non ; mais ce n’est point un amoureux qu’il me faut, à moi.
– Que vous faut-il donc ?
– Un mari.
Thibault fit un mouvement qu’Agnelette ne vit pas ou fit semblant de ne pas voir.
– Oui, répéta-t-elle, un mari. Grand-mère est vieille et infirme, et un amoureux me distrairait des soins que je lui donne ; au contraire, un mari, si je trouve un brave garçon qui veuille bien m’épouser, un mari m’aidera à la soulager dans son grand âge, et il partagera la tâche que le Bon Dieu m’a donnée d’adoucir ses derniers jours.
– Mais, dit Thibault, ce mari vous laissera-t-il aimer votre grand-mère plus que vous ne l’aimerez lui-même, et ne sera-t-il pas jaloux de la tendresse que vous témoignerez à la vieille femme ?
– Oh ! reprit Agnelette avec un adorable sourire, il n’y a point de danger à cela ; je m’arrangerai pour lui faire la part si large, qu’il ne sera pas tenté de se plaindre ; plus il sera doux et patient pour la bonne femme, plus je me dévouerai à lui, plus je travaillerai pour que notre petit ménage ne manque de rien. Vous me voyez chétive et frêle, et vous vous méfiez de ma force ; mais je suis brave et courageuse à l’ouvrage, allez ! Quand le cœur a dit son mot, nuit et jour on peut travailler sans fatigue ensuite. Je l’aimerai tant, celui qui aimera grand-mère ! Oh ! je vous en réponds, elle, mon mari et moi, nous serons bien heureux tous les trois.
– Tu veux dire que vous serez bien pauvres tous trois, Agnelette !
– Allons ! les amours et les amitiés des riches valent-elles une obole de plus que celles des pauvres ? Lorsque j’ai bien, bien câliné grand-mère, monsieur Thibault, qu’elle me prend sur ses genoux, m’enlace dans ses pauvres bras tremblants, que sa bonne vieille figure ridée s’appuie sur la mienne ; lorsque je me sens les joues humides des larmes d’attendrissement qui coulent de ses yeux, je me mets à pleurer aussi, et ces larmes-là, monsieur Thibault, elles sont si faciles et si douces, que jamais dame ou demoiselle, fût-elle reine ou fille de roi, n’a eu, j’en suis sûre, de joie plus vive dans ses plus heureux jours ; et bien certainement nous sommes cependant, ma grand-mère et moi, les deux créatures les plus dénuées qu’il y ait à la ronde.
Thibault écoutait tout cela sans répondre, restant rêveur, de cette rêverie particulière aux ambitieux.
Et cependant, au milieu de ses rêves d’ambition, il avait des moments d’affaissement et de dégoût.
Lui qui avait si souvent passé des heures entières à regarder les belles et nobles dames de la cour de monseigneur le duc d’Orléans monter et descendre les escaliers du perron ; lui qui avait si souvent passé des nuits entières à regarder les fenêtres ogivales du donjon de Vez, resplendissant dans la nuit de la lumière des festins, il se demandait si ce qu’il avait si souvent ambitionné, une noble dame et une riche demeure, vaudrait un toit de paille avec cette douce et belle enfant qu’on appelait Agnelette.
Il est vrai que cette brave petite femme était si gentille, que tous les comtes et tous les barons du pays la lui eussent bien certainement enviée à leur tour.
– Eh bien, par exemple, Agnelette, dit Thibault, si un homme comme moi s’offrait pour être votre mari, l’accepteriez-vous ?
Nous avons dit que Thibault était beau garçon, qu’il avait de beaux yeux et de beaux cheveux noirs, que ses voyages du tour de France en avaient fait plus qu’un simple ouvrier.
D’ailleurs, on s’attache vite aux gens par le bien qu’on leur a fait, et Agnelette, selon toute probabilité, avait sauvé la vie à Thibault ; car, à la façon dont Marcotte frappait, le patient serait mort avant le trente-sixième coup.
– Oui, dit-elle, s’il était bon pour ma grand-mère !
Thibault lui prit la main.
– Eh bien, Agnelette, dit-il, nous reparlerons de cela, et le plus tôt possible, mon enfant.
– Quand vous voudrez, monsieur Thibault.
– Et vous ferez serment de bien m’aimer si je vous épouse, Agnelette ?
– Est-ce qu’on peut aimer un autre homme que son mari ?
– N’importe, je voudrais bien un tout petit serment, quelque chose comme ceci, par exemple : « Monsieur Thibault, je vous jure de n’aimer jamais que vous. »
– À quoi bon un serment ? La promesse d’une brave fille doit suffire à un brave garçon.
– Et à quand la noce, Agnelette ? dit Thibault en essayant de passer son bras autour de la taille de la jeune fille.
Mais Agnelette se dégagea doucement.
– Venez voir ma grand-mère, dit-elle ; c’est à elle d’en décider ; pour ce soir, contentez-vous de m’aider à charger mon faix de bruyère ; car il se fait tard, et j’ai près d’une lieue à faire pour aller d’ici à Préciamont.
Thibault aida, en effet, la jeune fille à recharger la gerbe ; puis il la reconduisit jusqu’à la haie de Billemont, c’est-à-dire jusqu’à ce que l’on vît le clocher de son village.
Arrivé là, il pria tant la belle Agnelette, qu’elle lui laissa prendre un baiser à compte sur son bonheur futur.
Beaucoup plus émue de ce seul baiser qu’elle ne l’avait été de la double accolade du baron, Agnelette pressa le pas, malgré le fardeau qu’elle portait sur sa tête, et qui semblait bien lourd pour une si frêle et si chétive créature.
Thibault resta quelque temps à suivre des yeux Agnelette s’en allant par les bruyères.
Les jolis bras de la séduisante fille, en soutenant le fardeau dont était chargée sa tête, dégageaient sa taille et semblaient doubler sa flexibilité et sa grâce juvénile.
Sa fine silhouette se découpait d’une adorable façon sur le fond bleu de l’horizon.
Enfin, la jeune fille touchait presque aux premières maisons, lorsque tout à coup elle s’enfonça derrière un pli de terrain et disparut aux regards émerveillés de Thibault.
Celui-ci poussa un soupir et resta un instant abîmé dans ses réflexions.
Ce soupir, ce n’était point la satisfaction de songer que cette bonne et charmante créature pouvait être à lui qui l’avait tiré de la poitrine de Thibault.
Non ; il avait désiré Agnelette parce qu’Agnelette était jeune et belle, et qu’il était dans la malheureuse nature de Thibault de vouloir tout ce qui était ou pouvait être à autrui.
Il s’était abandonné à ce désir sous l’impression de la naïveté avec laquelle elle lui avait parlé.
Mais l’image d’Agnelette était dans son esprit et non dans son cœur.
Thibault était incapable d’aimer comme il faut aimer, alors que, pauvre soi-même, on aime une pauvre fille sans rien voir, sans rien ambitionner au-delà de voir son amour payé d’un amour égal.
Non, tout au contraire : au fur et à mesure qu’il s’éloignait d’Agnelette, comme s’il s’éloignait de son bon génie, il sentait renaître dans son âme les envieuses aspirations qui le tourmentaient si fréquemment.
Il était nuit lorsqu’il rentra chez lui.
(62-67)
Agnelette was left alone with Thibault. We have related what Agnelette had done for Thibault’s sake, and also said that she was pretty.
Nevertheless, for all that, Thibault’s first thoughts on finding himself alone with the girl, were not for the one who had saved his life, but were given up to hatred and the contemplation of vengeance.
Thibault, as you see, had, since the morning, been making rapid strides along the path of evil [la voie du mal].
“Ah! if the devil [le diable] will but hear my prayer this time,” he cried, as he shook his fist, cursing the while, after the retiring huntsmen, who were just out of view, “if the devil will but hear me, you shall be paid back with usury for all you have made me suffer this day, that I swear.”
“Oh, how wicked it is [que c’est mal] of you to behave like that!” said Agnelette, going up to him.
“The Baron is a kind Lord, very good to the poor, and always gently behaved with women.”
“Quite so, and you shall see with what gratitude I will repay him for the blows he has given me.”
“Come now, frankly, friend, confess that you deserved those blows,” said the girl, laughing.
“So, so!” answered Thibault, “the Baron’s kiss has turned your head, has it, my pretty Agnelette?”
“You, I should have thought, would have been the last person to reproach me with that kiss, Monsieur Thibault. But what I have said, I say again; my Lord Baron was within his rights.”
“What, in belabouring me with blows!”
“Well, why do you go hunting on the estates of these great lords?”
“Does not the game belong to everybody, to the peasant just as much as to the great lords?”
“No, certainly not; the game is in their woods, it is fed on their grass, and you have no right to throw your boar-spear at a buck which belongs to my lord the Duke of Orleans.”
“And who told you that I threw a boar-spear at his buck?” replied Thibault, advancing towards Agnelette in an almost threatening manner.
“Who told me? why, my own eyes, which, let me tell you, do not lie. Yes, I saw you throw your boar-spear, when you were hidden there, behind the beech-tree.”
Thibault’s anger subsided at once before the straightforward attitude of the girl, whose truthfulness was in such contrast to his falsehood.
“Well, after all,” he said, “supposing a poor devil does once in a way help himself to a good dinner from the super-abundance of some great lord! Are you of the same mind, Mademoiselle Agnelette, as the judges who say that a man ought to be hanged just for a wretched rabbit? Come now, do you think God created that buck for the Baron more than for me?”
“God, Monsieur Thibault, has told us not to covet other men’s goods; obey the law of God, and you will not find yourself any the worse off for it!”
“Ah, I see, my pretty Agnelette, you know me then, since you call me so glibly by my name?”
“Certainly I do; I remember seeing you at Boursonnes, on the day of the fête; they called you the beautiful dancer, and stood round in a circle to watch you.”
Thibault, pleased with this compliment, was now quite disarmed.
“Yes, yes, of course,” he answered, “I remember now having seen you; and I think we danced together, did we not? but you were not so tall then as you are now, that’s why I did not recognise you at first, but I recall you distinctly now. And I remember too that you wore a pink frock, with a pretty little white bodice, and that we danced in the dairy. I wanted to kiss you, but you would not let me, for you said that it was only proper to kiss one’s vis-á-vis, and not one’s partner.”
“You have a good memory, Monsieur Thibault!”
“And do you know, Agnelette, that during these last twelve months, for it is a year since that dance, you have not only grown taller, but grown prettier too; I see you are one of those people who understand how to do two things at once.”
The girl blushed and lowered her eyes, and the blush and the shy embarrassment only made her look more charming still.
Thibault’s eyes were now turned towards her with more marked attention than before, and, in a voice, not wholly free from a slight agitation, he asked:
“Have you a lover, Agnelette?”
“No, Monsieur Thibault,” she answered, “I have never had one, and do not wish to have one.”
“And why is that? Is Cupid such a bad lad that you are afraid of him?”
“No, not that, but a lover is not at all what I want.”
“And what do you want?”
“A husband.”
Thibault made a movement, which Agnelette either did not, or pretended not to see.
“Yes,” she repeated, “a husband. Grandmother is old and infirm, and a lover would distract my attention too much from the care which I now give her; whereas, a husband, if I found a nice fellow who would like to marry me,—a husband would help me to look after her in her old age, and would share with me the task which God has laid upon me, of making her happy and comfortable in her last years.”
“But do you think your husband,” said Thibault, “would be willing that you should love your grandmother more than you loved him? and do you not think he might be jealous at seeing you lavish so much tenderness upon her?”
“Oh,” replied Agnelette, with an adorable smile, “there is no fear of that, for I will manage so as to let him have such a large share of my love and attention that he will have no cause to complain; the kinder and the more patient he is for the dear old thing, the more I shall devote myself to him, the harder shall I work that there may be nothing wanting to our little household. You see me looking small and delicate, and you doubt that I should have strength for this; but I have plenty of spirit and energy for work, and then, when the heart gives consent, one can work day and night without fatigue. Oh! how I should love the man who loved my grandmother! I promise you, that she, and my husband, and I, we should be three happy folks together.”
“You mean that you would be three very poor folks together, Agnelette!”
“And do you think the loves and friendships of the rich are worth a farthing more than those of the poor? At times, when I have been loving and caressing my grandmother, Monsieur Thibault, and she takes me on her lap and clasps me in her poor weak trembling arms, and puts her dear old wrinkled face against mine, and I feel my cheek wet with the loving tears she sheds, I begin to cry myself, and, I tell you, Monsieur Thibault, so soft and sweet are my tears, that there is no woman or girl, be she queen or princess, who has ever, I am sure, even in her happiest days, known such a real joy as mine. And, yet, there is no one in all the country round who is so destitute as we two are.”
Thibault listened to what Agnelette was saying without answering; his mind was occupied with many thoughts, such thoughts as are indulged in by the ambitious; but his dreams of ambition were disturbed at moments by a passing sensation of depression and disillusionment.
He, the man who had spent hours at a time watching the beautiful and aristocratic dames belonging to the Court of the Duke of Orleans, as they swept up and down the wide entrance stairs; who had often passed whole nights gazing at the arched windows of the Keep at Vez, when the whole place was lit up for some festivity, he, that same man, now asked himself, if what he had so ambitiously desired to have, a lady of rank and a rich dwelling, would, after all, be so much worth possessing as a thatched roof and this sweet and gentle girl called Agnelette. And it was certain that if this dear and charming little woman were to become his, that he would be envied in turn by all the earls and barons in the countryside.
“Well, Agnelette,” said Thibault “and suppose a man like myself were to offer himself as your husband, would you accept him?”
It has been already stated that Thibault was a handsome young fellow, with fine eyes and black hair, and that his travels had left him something better than a mere workman. And it must further be borne in mind that we readily become attached to those on whom we have conferred a benefit, and Agnelette had, in all probability, saved Thibault’s life; for, under such strokes as Marcotte’s, the victim would certainly have been dead before the thirty-sixth had been given.
“Yes,” she said, “if it would be a good thing for my grandmother?”
Thibault took hold of her hand.
“Well then, Agnelette,” he said “we will speak again about this, dear child, and that as soon as may be.”
“Whenever you like, Monsieur Thibault.”
“And you will promise faithfully to love me if I marry you, Agnelette?”
“Do you think I should love any man besides my husband?”
“Never mind, I want you just to take a little oath, something of this kind, for instance; Monsieur Thibault, I swear that I will never love anyone but you.”
“What need is there to swear? the promise of an honest girl should be sufficient for an honest man.”
“And when shall we have the wedding, Agnelette?” and in saying this, Thibault tried to put his arm round her waist.
But Agnelette gently disengaged herself.
“Come and see my grandmother,” she said, “it is for her to decide about it; you must content yourself this evening with helping me up with my load of heath, for it is getting late, and it is nearly three miles from here to Préciamont.”
So Thibault helped her as desired, and then accompanied her on her way home as far as the Forest-fence of Billemont, that is until they came in sight of the village steeple. Before parting, he so begged of pretty Agnelette to give him one kiss as an earnest of his future happiness, that at last she consented, and then, far more agitated by this one kiss than she had been by the Baron’s double embrace, Agnelette hastened on her way, in spite of the load which she was carrying on her head, and which seemed far too heavy for so slender and delicate a creature.
Thibault stood for some time looking after her as she walked away across the moor. All the flexibility and grace of her youthful figure were brought into relief as the girl lifted her pretty rounded arms to support the burden upon her head, and thus silhouetted against the dark blue of the sky she made a delightful picture. At last, having reached the outskirts of the village, the land dipping at that point, she suddenly disappeared, passing out of sight of Thibault’s admiring eyes. He gave a sigh, and stood still, plunged in thought; but it was not the satisfaction of thinking that this sweet and good young creature might one day be his that had caused his sigh. Quite the contrary; he had wished for Agnelette, because Agnelette was young and pretty, and because it was part of his unfortunate disposition to long for everything that belonged or might belong to another. His desire to possess Agnelette had been quickened by the innocent frankness with which she had talked to him; but it had been a matter of fancy rather than of any deeper feeling, of the mind, and not of the heart. For Thibault was incapable of loving as a man ought to love, who, being poor himself, loves a poor girl; in such a case there should be no thought, no ambition on his part beyond the wish that his love may be returned. But it was not so with Thibault; on the contrary, I repeat, the farther he walked away from Agnelette, leaving it would seem his good genius farther behind him with every step, the more urgently did his envious longings begin again as usual to torment his soul. It was dark when he reached home.
(24-27)
Dumas, Alexandre. 1868. Le meneur de loups. (Nouvelle édition). Paris: Lévy.
PDF at:
https://archive.org/det ails/bub_gb_BhlMAAAAMAAJ/page/n5
and:
https://beq.ebooksgratuits.com/vents/Dumas-meneur.pdf
Online text at:
https://fr.wikisource.org/wik i/Le_Meneur_de_loups
and
https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Livre:Dumas_- _Le_Meneur_de_loups_(1868).djvu
Dumas, Alexandre. 1921. The Wolf-Leader. Translated by Alfred Allinson. London: Methuen.
PDF at:
https://archive.org/details/wolfle ader00duma
or:
https://archive.org/details/wo lfleader00dumauoft
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