No More Learning

I'll do it still.
[Sound of footsteps. ]
Who comes? who dares disturb
Besides myself the dwelling of such dead!
[The sound comes nearer. ]
My murderers! I forgot! Now enter we.
[He opens the door of the tomb, which shuts upon him. ]
Enter several men (Conspirators) walking softly, disguised by large cloaks
and hats. They take each other's hands, going from one to another
and speaking in a low tone.
First Conspirator [who alone carries a lighted torch]—
Ad augusta.
Second Conspirator-
First Conspirator -
Per angusta.
Shield us.
Third Conspirator-
First Conspirator-
-
――――――――
First Conspirator-
Who's there?
A Voice
Second Conspirator-
The dead assist us.
First Conspirator to Third-
Third Conspirator-
Voice [in the darkness]-
Ad augusta.
Third Conspirator-
Ad augusta.
Per angusta.
Enter fresh Conspirators-noise of footsteps
First Conspirator-
The Saints
[Noise in the shade. ]
See! there is some one still to come.
Guard us, God!
All now are here.
To state the case.
Per angusta.
Enter more Conspirators, who exchange signs with their hands with the
others
Who's there?
'Tis well.
Gotha, to you it falls
Friends, darkness waits for light.


## p. 7741 (#559) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
Duke of Gotha [rising]-
[The Conspirators sit in a half-circle on the tombs. The First Conspirator
passes before them, and from his torch each one lights a wax taper
which he holds in his hand. Then the First Conspirator seats him-
self in silence on a tomb a little higher than the others, in the centre
of the circle. ]
My friends! This Charles of Spain, by mother's side
A foreigner, aspires to mount the throne
Of Holy Empire.
First Conspirator-
But for him the grave.
All-
Duke of Gotha [throwing down his light and crushing it with his foot] —
Let it be with his head as with this flame.
So be it.
First Conspirator-
Duke of Gotha
All
Let him be slain.
Don Juan de Haro-
Duke de Lutzelbourg —
Duke of Gotha -
A Conspirator-
All-
-
His mother Spanish.
-
All-
First Conspirator-
Don Gil Tellez Giron-
Death unto him.
Thus you see that he
Is no more one than other. Let him die.
First Conspirator-
Suppose th' Electors at this very hour
Declare him Emperor!
Let him die.
German his father was.
The Empire.
First Conspirator-
What signifies? Let us strike off the head,
The crown will fall.
All-
First Conspirator —
-
But if to him belongs
The Holy Empire, he becomes so great
And so august, that only God's own hand
Can reach him.
-
Duke of Gotha –
All the better reason why
He dies before such power august he gains.
First Conspirator-
He shall not be elected.
Him! oh, never him!
Not for him
Now, how many hands will't take
To put him in his shroud?
One is enough.
7741
How many strokes to reach his heart?
But one.


## p. 7742 (#560) ###########################################

7742
VICTOR HUGO
First Conspirator-
All-
First Conspirator-
____
Who, then, will strike?
All! All!
The victim is
A traitor proved. They would an Emperor choose,
We've a high priest to make. Let us draw lots.
[All the Conspirators write their names on their tablets, tear out the leaf,
roll it up, and one after another throw them into the urn on one of
the tombs. Afterwards the First Conspirator says:-]
Now let us pray.
[All kneel; the First Conspirator rises and says:-]
Oh, may the chosen one
Believe in God, and like a Roman strike,—
Die as a Hebrew would, and brave alike
The wheel and burning pincers, laugh at rack
And fire and wooden horse, and be resigned
To kill and die. He might have all to do.
[He draws a parchment from the urn. ]
What name?
All-
First Conspirator [in low voice] -
Hernani!
Hernani [coming out from the crowd of Conspirators] —
I have won,—yes, won!
I hold thee fast! Thee I've so long pursued
With vengeance.
Don Ruy Gomez [piercing through the crowd and taking Hernani aside] —
Yield-oh yield this right to me.
Hernani-Not for my life! O Signor, grudge me not
This stroke of fortune-'tis the first I've known.
Don Ruy Gomez-
You nothing have! I'll give you houses, lands,
A hundred thousand vassals shall be yours
In my three hundred villages, if you
But yield the right to strike to me.
No-no.
Hernani-
Duke of Gotha-
Old man, thy arm would strike less sure a blow.
Don Ruy Gomez-
Back! I have strength of soul, if not of arm.
Judge not the sword by the mere scabbard's rust.
1
!
H


## p. 7743 (#561) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
Hernani-
My life is yours,
As his belongs to me.
Don Ruy Gomez [drawing the horn from his girdle]—
I yield Her up,
And will return the horn.
Hernani [trembling]-
[To Hernani]-
You do belong to me.
What, life! my life
And Doña Sol! No, I my vengeance choose.
I have my father to revenge-yet more,
Perchance I am inspired by God in this.
Don Ruy Gomez –
I yield thee Her-and give thee back the horn!
Hernani-No!
Don Ruy Gomez-
Hernani-
-
--
Boy, reflect.
Hernani-
Don Ruy Gomez-
-
My curses on you for depriving me
Of this my joy.
First Conspirator [to Hernani]—
O Duke, leave me my prey!
To kill a man.
First Conspirator-
O brother! ere they can
Elect him-'twould be well this very night
To watch for Charles.
―――――――
Fear naught: I know the way
May every treason fall
On traitor, and may God be with you now.
We counts and barons, let us take the oath
That if he fall, yet slay not, we go on
And strike by turn unflinching till Charles dies.
All [drawing their swords]-
Let us all swear.
Duke of Gotha [to First Conspirator]-
My brother, let's decide
On what we swear.
Don Ruy Gomez [taking his sword by the point and raising it above his
By this same cross-
head]-
All [raising their swords]-
That he must quickly die impenitent.
7743
-
And this-
[They hear a cannon fired afar off. All pause and are silent. The door
Carlos appears at the threshold. A
He opens wide the door, and stands
of the tomb half opens, and Don
second gun is fired, then a third.
erect and motionless without advancing. ]


## p. 7744 (#562) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
7744
Don Carlos —
Fall back, ye gentlemen-the Emperor hears.
[All the lights are simultaneously extinguished. A profound silence. Don
Carlos advances a step in the darkness, so dense that the silent, mo-
tionless Conspirators can scarcely be distinguished. ]
Silence and night! From darkness sprung, the swarm
Into the darkness plunges back again!
Think ye this scene is like a passing dream,
And that I take you, now your lights are quenched,
For men's stone figures seated on their tombs?
Just now, my statues, you had voices loud.
Raise, then, your drooping heads, for Charles the Fifth
Is here. Strike. Move a pace or two and show
You dare. But no, 'tis not in you to dare.
Your flaming torches, blood-red 'neath these vaults,
My breath extinguished; but now turn your eyes
Irresolute, and see that if I thus
Put out the many, I can light still more.
[He strikes the iron key on the bronze door of the tomb. At the sound all
the depths of the cavern are filled with soldiers bearing torches and
halberts. At their head the Duke d'Alcala, the Marquis d'Almu-
ñan, etc. ]
Come on, my falcons! I've the nest- the prey.
[To Conspirators]-
I can make blaze of light; 'tis my turn now,-
Behold!
--
[To the Soldiers] —
Hernani [looking at the Soldiers] -
Don Carlos —
Advance-for flagrant is the crime.
-
Ah, well! At first I thought 'twas Charlemagne,-
Alone he seemed so great,- but after all
'Tis only Charles the Fifth.
Don Carlos [to the Duke d'Alcala]-
Of Spain,
[To Marquis d'Almuñan] —
And you, Castilian Admiral,
Disarm them all.
[The Conspirators are surrounded and disarmed. ]
Don Ricardo [hurrying in and bowing almost to the ground] —
Your Majesty!
I make you of the Palace.
Come, Constable
Alcadé


## p. 7745 (#563) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
Don Ricardo [again bowing]-
Two Electors,
To represent the Golden Chamber, come
To offer to your Sacred Majesty
Congratulations now.
Don Carlos
[Aside to Don Ricardo]-
The Doña Sol.
Duke of Bavaria -
[Ricardo bows, and exit. ]
Enter with flambeaux and flourish of trumpets the King of Bohemia and
the Duke of Bavaria, both wearing cloth of gold and with crowns
on their heads, and with numerous followers. German nobles carry-
ing the banner of the Empire, the double-headed Eagle, with the
escutcheon of Spain in the middle of it. The soldiers divide, forming
lines between which the Electors pass to the Emperor, to whom they
bow low. He returns the salutation by raising his hat.
Most Sacred Majesty
Charles, of the Romans King, and Emperor,
The Empire of the world is in your hands-
Yours is the throne to which each king aspires!
The Saxon Frederick was elected first,
Don Carlos-
But he judged you more worthy, and declined.
Now then receive the crown and globe, O King:
The Holy Empire doth invest you now;
Arms with the sword, and you indeed are great.
King of Bohemia
Let them come forth.
-
The College I will thank on my return.
But go, my brother of Bohemia,
And you, Bavarian cousin. -Thanks; but now
I do dismiss you I shall go myself.
Don Carlos-
-
The Crowd-
XIII-485
7745
O Charles, our ancestors were friends. My sire
Loved yours, and their two fathers were two friends-
So young! exposed to varied fortunes! Say,
O Charles, may I be ranked a very chief
Among thy brothers? I cannot forget
I knew you as a little child.
Ah, well
King of Bohemia, you presume too much.
[He gives him his hand to kiss, also the Duke of Bavaria; both bow low. ]
Depart.
[Exeunt the two Electors with their followers.
LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!


## p. 7746 (#564) ###########################################

7746
VICTOR HUGO
Don Carlos [aside]-
So 'tis mine!
All things have helped, and I am Emperor —
By the refusal, though, of Frederick
Surnamed the Wise!
Enter Doña Sol, led by Ricardo
Doña Sol-
What, soldiers! -Emperor! -
Hernani! Heaven, what an unlooked-for chance!
Hernani-Ah! Doña Sol!
Don Ruy Gomez [aside to Hernani]-
Hernani-
[Doña Sol runs to Hernani, who makes her recoil by a look of disdain. ]
Hernani-
Doña Sol [drawing the dagger from her bosom]—
I still his poniard have!
Hernani [taking her in his arms]— My dearest one!
Don Carlos-
She has not seen me.
Be silent all.
[To the Conspirators]—
Is't you remorseless are?
I need to give the world a lesson now,
The Lara of Castile, and Gotha, you
Of Saxony-all-all-what were your plans
Just now? I bid you speak.
Don Carlos-
Quite simple, sire,
The thing, and we can briefly tell it you.
We 'graved the sentence on Belshazzar's wall.
We render unto Cæsar Cæsar's due.
Don Ruy Gomez
Madam!
[He takes out a poniard and brandishes it.
Silence!
[To Don Ruy Gomez]—
And you! you too are traitor, Silva!
Which of us two is traitor, sire?
Hernani [turning towards the Conspirators]- Our heads
And Empire-all that he desires he has.
[To the Emperor]-
The mantle blue of kings incumbered you;
The purple better suits-it shows not blood.


## p. 7747 (#565) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
7747
Don Carlos [to Don Ruy Gomez]·
Don Ruy Gomez –
Cousin of Silva, this is felony,
Attainting your baronial rank.
Don Ruy-high treason!
-
―
Count Julians make.
Don Carlos [to the Duke d'Alcala]-
-
Think well,
Kings like Roderick
Seize only those who seem
The nobles; for the rest!
[Don Ruy Gomez, the Duke de Lutzelbourg, the Duke of Gotha, Don Juan
de Haro, Don Guzman de Lara, Don Tellez Giron, the Baron of
Hohenbourg, separate themselves from the group of Conspirators,
among whom is Hernani. The Duke d'Alcala surrounds them with
guards. ]
Doña Sol [aside]-
Ah, he is saved!
Hernani [coming from among the Conspirators] —
Since to this
I claim to be included!
[To Don Carlos]-
It comes, the question of the axe: that now
Hernani, humble churl, beneath thy feet
Unpunished goes, because his brow is not
At level with thy sword,- because one must
Be great to die,-I rise. God, who gives power,
And gives to thee the sceptre, made me Duke
Of Segorbe and Cardona, Marquis too
Of Monroy, Albaterra's Count, of Gor
Viscount, and lord of many places, more
Than I can name. Juan of Aragon
Am I, Grand Master of Avis-the son
In exile born, of murdered father slain
-
By king's decree, King Charles, which me proscribed.
Thus death 'twixt us is family affair;
You have the scaffold -we the poniard hold.
Since heaven a duke has made me, and exile
A mountaineer,—since all in vain I've sharpened
Upon the hills my sword, and in the torrents
Have tempered it,
[To the Conspirators]-
[He puts on his hat.
Let us be covered now,
Us, the Grandees of Spain.
[They cover.
[To Don Carlos] -
Our heads, O King,
Have right to fall before thee covered thus.
―――


## p. 7748 (#566) ###########################################

7748
VICTOR HUGO
Hernani-
[To the prisoners]—
Silva and Haro, Lara,- men of rank
Doña Sol-
Don Carlos-
And race,- make room for Juan of Aragon.
Give me my place, ye dukes and counts-my place.
[To the courtiers and guards] —
King, headsmen, varlets - Juan of Aragon
Am I. If all your scaffolds are too small,
Make new ones.
[He joins the group of nobles.
I had forgotten quite
But they who bleed remember
Far better. Th' evil that wrong-doer thus
So senselessly forgets, forever stirs
Within the outraged heart.
Hernani-
This history.
Don Carlos —
Therefore, enough
For me to bear this title, that I'm son
Of sires whose power dealt death to ancestors
Of yours!
Don Carlos —
Doña Sol [falling on her knees before the Emperor] —
Oh, pardon-pardon! Mercy, sire;
Be pitiful, or strike us both, I pray:
For he my lover is, my promised spouse;
In him it is alone I live-I breathe;
O sire, in mercy us together slay.
Trembling, O Majesty! I trail myself
Before your sacred knees. I love him, sire,
And he is mine as Empire is your own.
Have pity!
Heavens!
The King?
Don Carlos -
[Don Carlos looks at her without moving.
Oh, what thought absorbs you?
Rise, Duchess of Segorbe, Marchioness
Of Monroy, Countess Albaterra, and —
[To Hernani]—
Thine other names, Don Juan?
No, 'tis the Emperor.
Doña Sol-
Don Carlos [pointing to her]-
Who speaks thus:
Cease.
Just Heaven!
Duke Juan, take your wife.
Hernani [his eyes raised to heaven, Doña Sol in his arms]
Just God!


## p. 7749 (#567) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
Don Carlos [to Don Ruy Gomez] —
I know the pride of your nobility,
But Aragon with Silva well may mate.
Don Ruy Gomez [bitterly]-
'Tis not a question of nobility.
Don Ruy Gomez [aside, and looking at them]-
Hernani [looking with love on Doña Sol and still holding her in his arms]-
My deadly hate is vanishing away.
[Throws away his dagger.
My cousin,
Shall I betray myself? Oh, no—my grief,
My foolish love would make them pity cast
Upon my venerable head. Old man
And Spaniard! Let the hidden fire consume,
And suffer still in secret. Let heart break
But cry not;-they would laugh at thee.
Doña Sol [still in Hernani's arms)-
Hernani - Nothing my soul holds now but love!
Doña Sol-
Don Carlos [aside, his hand in his bosom] -
Oh, joy!
Stifle thyself, young heart so full of flame;
Let reign again the better thoughts which thou
So long hast troubled. Henceforth let thy loves,
Thy mistresses, alas! be Germany
And Flanders — Spain.
Hernani-
Don Carlos -
My Duke!
The Emperor is like.
The Eagle his companion,-in the place
Of heart, there's but a 'scutcheon.
[Looking at the banner.
7749
Cæsar you
Don Juan, of your ancient name and race
Your soul is worthy,
[Pointing to Doña Sol.
Worthy e'en of her.
Kneel, Duke.
[Hernani kneels. Don Carlos unfastens his own Golden Fleece and puts it
on Hernani's neck. ]
Receive this collar.
[Don Carlos draws his sword and strikes him three times on the shoulder. ]
Faithful be;
For by St. Stephen now I make thee Knight.
[He raises and embraces him.
Thou hast a collar softer and more choice,-
That which is wanting to my rank supreme,-


## p. 7750 (#568) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
7750
The arms of loving woman, loved by thee.
Thou wilt be happy-I am Emperor.
[To Conspirators] —
Sirs, I forget your names. Anger and hate
I will forget. Go-go-I pardon you.
This is the lesson that the world much needs.
The Conspirators —
Glory to Charles!
Don Ruy Gomez [to Don Carlos]-
Don Carlos -
And I!
Don Ruy Gomez
Forgiven!
I only suffer, then!
But I have not like Majesty
Hernani-
Who is't has worked this wondrous change?
All-Nobles, Soldiers, Conspirators-
Honor to Charles the Fifth, and Germany!
Don Carlos [turning to the tomb]-
Don Carlos [alone] -
―――――
Honor to Charlemagne! Leave us now together.
[Exeunt all.
[He bends towards the tomb.
Art thou content with me, O Charlemagne ?
Have I the kingship's littleness stripped off?
Become as Emperor another man?
Can I Rome's mitre add unto my helm?
Have I the right the fortunes of the world
To sway? Have I a steady foot that safe
Can tread the path, by Vandal ruins strewed,
Which thou hast beaten by thine armies vast?
Have I my candle lighted at thy flame?
Did I interpret right the voice that spake
Within this tomb? Ah, I was lost-alone
Before an Empire-a wide howling world
That threatened and conspired! There were the Danes
To punish, and the Holy Father's self
To compensate - with Venice - Soliman,
-
Francis, and Luther-and a thousand dirks
Gleaming already in the shade. snares — rocks;
And countless foes; a score of nations, each
Of which might serve to awe a score of kings.
Things ripe, all pressing to be done at once.
I cried to thee-with what shall I begin?
And thou didst answer-Son, by clemency!
-


## p. 7751 (#569) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
7751
THE CHAIN-GANG FOR THE GALLEYS
From Les Misérables. '
Translated by Isabel F. Hapgood. Copyright 1887,
by T. Y. Crowell & Co.
J
EAN VALJEAN's inclination led him, as we have seen, to the
least frequented spots, to solitary nooks, to forgotten places.
There then existed, in the vicinity of the barriers of Paris,
a sort of poor meadows, which were almost confounded with the
city, where grew in summer sickly grain, and which in autumn,
after the harvest had been gathered, presented the appearance
of having been not reaped, but peeled. Jean Valjean loved to
haunt these fields. Cosette was not bored there. It meant soli-
tude to him and liberty to her. There she became a little girl
once more: she could run and almost play; she took off her
hat, laid it on Jean Valjean's knees, and gathered bunches of
flowers. She gazed at the butterflies on the flowers, but did not
catch them; gentleness and tenderness are born with love, and
the young girl who cherishes within her breast a trembling and
fragile ideal has mercy on the wing of a butterfly. She wove
garlands of poppies, which she placed on her head, and which,
crossed and penetrated with sunlight, glowing until they flamed,
formed for her rosy face a crown of burning embers.
Even after their life had grown sad, they kept up their cus-
tom of early strolls.
One morning in October, therefore, tempted by the serene
perfection of the autumn of 1831, they set out, and found them-
selves at break of day near the Barrière du Maine. It was not
dawn, it was daybreak; a delightful and stern moment. A few
constellations here and there in the deep, pale azure, the earth
all black, the heavens all white, a quiver amid the blades of
grass, everywhere the mysterious chill of twilight. A lark, which
seemed mingled with the stars, was caroling at a prodigious
height, and one would have declared that that hymn of petti-
ness calmed immensity. In the East, the Val-de-Grâce projected
its dark mass on the clear horizon with the sharpness of steel;
Venus dazzlingly brilliant was rising behind that dome, and had
the air of a soul making its escape from a gloomy edifice.
All was peace and silence; there was no one on the road; a
few stray laborers, of whom they caught barely a glimpse, were
on their way to their work along the side paths.


## p. 7752 (#570) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
7752
Jean Valjean was sitting in a cross-walk, on some planks
deposited at the gate of the timber-yard. His face was turned
towards the highway, his back towards the light; he had forgot-
ten the sun, which was on the point of rising; he had sunk into
one of those profound absorptions in which the mind becomes con-
centrated, which imprison even the eye, and which are equiva-
lent to four walls. There are meditations which may be called
vertical; when one is at the bottom of them, time is required
to return to earth. Jean Valjean had plunged into one of these
reveries. He was thinking of Cosette, of the happiness that was
possible if nothing came between him and her, of the light with
which she filled his life,-a light which was but the emanation
of her soul. He was almost happy in his revery. Cosette, who
was standing beside him, was gazing at the clouds as they turned
rosy.
All at once Cosette exclaimed, "Father, I should think some
one was coming yonder. " Jean Valjean raised his eyes.
Cosette was right. The causeway which leads to the ancient
Barrière du Maine is a prolongation, as the reader knows, of the
Rue de Sèvres, and is cut at right angles by the inner boulevard.
At the elbow of the causeway and the boulevard, at the spot
where it branches, they heard a noise which it was difficult to
account for at that hour, and a sort of confused pile made its
appearance. Some shapeless thing which was coming from the
boulevard was turning into the road.
It grew larger; it seemed to move in an orderly manner,
though it was bristling and quivering; it seemed to be a vehi-
cle, but its load could not be distinctly made out. There were
horses, wheels, shouts; whips were cracking. By degrees the
outlines became fixed, although bathed in shadows. It was a
vehicle, in fact, which had just turned from the boulevard into
the highway, and which was directing its course towards the bar-
rier near which sat Jean Valjean; a second of the same aspect
followed, then a third, then a fourth: seven chariots made their
appearance in succession, the heads of the horses touching the
rear of the wagon in front. Figures were moving on these
vehicles, flashes were visible through the dusk as though there
were naked swords there, a clanking became audible which resem-
bled the rattling of chains; and as this something advanced, the
sound of voices waxed louder, and it turned into a terrible thing
such as emerges from the cave of dreams.


## p. 7753 (#571) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
7753
As it drew nearer it assumed a form, and was outlined behind
the trees with the pallid hue of an apparition; the mass grew
white; the day, which was slowly dawning, cast a wan light on
this swarming heap which was at once both sepulchral and liv-
ing, the heads of the figures turned into the faces of corpses,
and this is what it proved to be:
Seven wagons were driving in a file along the road. The
first six were singularly constructed. They resembled coopers'
drays; they consisted of long ladders placed on two wheels and
forming barrows at their rear extremities. Each dray, or rather
let us say, each ladder, was attached to four horses harnessed
tandem. On these ladders strange clusters of men were being
drawn. In the faint light, these men were to be divined rather
than seen.
Twenty-four on each vehicle, twelve on a side, back
to back, facing the passers-by, their legs dangling in the air,-
this was the manner in which these men were traveling; and
behind their backs they had something which clanked, and which
was a chain, and on their necks something which shone, and
which was an iron collar. Each man had his collar, but the
chain was for all; so that if these four-and-twenty men had
occasion to alight from the dray and walk, they were seized with
a sort of inexorable unity, and were obliged to wind over the
ground with the chain for a backbone, somewhat after the fash-
ion of millepeds. In the back and front of each vehicle, two
men armed with muskets stood erect, each holding one end of
the chain under his foot. The iron necklets were square. The
seventh vehicle, a huge rack-sided baggage wagon, without a
hood, had four wheels and six horses, and carried a sonorous
pile of iron boilers, cast-iron pots, braziers, and chains, among
which were mingled several men who were pinioned and stretched
at full length, and who seemed to be ill. This wagon, all lattice-
work, was garnished with dilapidated hurdles, which appeared to
have served for former punishments. These vehicles kept the
middle of the road. On each side marched a double hedge of
guards of infamous aspect, wearing three-cornered hats, like the
soldiers under the Directory, shabby, covered with spots and
holes, muffled in uniforms of veterans and the trousers of under-
takers' men, half gray, half blue, which were almost hanging in
rags, with red epaulets, yellow shoulder-belts, short sabres, mus-
kets, and cudgels; they were a species of soldier blackguards.
These myrmidons seemed composed of the abjectness of the beg-
gar and the authority of the executioner. The one who appeared
―


## p. 7754 (#572) ###########################################

VICTOR HUGO
7754
to be their chief held a postilion's whip in his hand. All these
details, blurred by the dimness of dawn, became more and more
clearly outlined as the light increased. At the head and in the
rear of the convoy rode mounted gendarmes, serious and with
sword in fist.
This procession was so long that when the first vehicle reached
the barrier, the last was barely debouching from the boulevard.
A throng, sprung it is impossible to say whence, and formed in
a twinkling, as is frequently the case in Paris, pressed forward
from both sides of the road and looked on. In the neighboring
lanes the shouts of people calling to each other, and the wooden
shoes of market gardeners hastening up to gaze, were audible.
The men massed upon the drays allowed themselves to be
jolted along in silence. They were livid with the chill of morn-
ing. They all wore linen trousers, and their bare feet were
thrust into wooden shoes. The rest of their costume was a
fantasy of wretchedness. Their accoutrements were horribly in-
congruous; nothing is more funereal than the harlequin in rags.
Battered felt hats, tarpaulin caps, hideous woolen nightcaps, and
side by side with a short blouse, a black coat broken at the
elbow; many wore women's headgear, others had baskets on their
heads; hairy breasts were visible, and through the rents in their
garments tattooed designs could be descried,- temples of Love,
flaming hearts, Cupids; eruptions and unhealthy red blotches
could also be seen. Two or three had a straw rope attached to
the cross-bar of the dray, and suspended under them like a stir-
rup, which supported their feet. One of them held in his hand
and raised to his mouth something which had the appearance
of a black stone, and which he seemed to be gnawing: it was
bread which he was eating. There were no eyes there which
were not either dry, dulled, or flaming with an evil light. The
escort troop cursed, the men in chains did not utter a syllable;
from time to time the sound of a blow became audible as the
cudgels descended on shoulder-blades or skulls. Some of these
men were yawning. Their rags were terrible; their feet hung
down, their shoulders oscillated, their heads clashed together,
their fetters clanked, their eyes glared ferociously, their fists.
clenched or fell open inertly like the hands of corpses. In the
rear of the convoy ran a band of children screaming with laughter.
This file of vehicles, whatever its nature was, was mournful.
It was evident that to-morrow, that an hour hence, a pouring
rain might descend, that it might be followed by another and


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7755
another, and that their dilapidated garments would be drenched,
that once soaked these men would not get dry again, that once
chilled they would not again get warm, that their linen trousers
would be glued to their bones by the downpour, that the water
would fill their shoes, that no lashes from the whips would be
able to prevent their jaws from chattering, that the chain would
continue to bind them by the neck, that their legs would con-
tinue to dangle; and it was impossible not to shudder at the
sight of these human beings thus bound and passive beneath
the cold clouds of autumn, and delivered over to the rain, to the
blast, to all the furies of the air, like trees and stones.
Blows from the cudgel were not omitted even in the case of
the sick men, who lay there knotted with ropes and motionless
on the seventh wagon, and who appeared to have been tossed
there like sacks filled with misery.
Suddenly the sun made its appearance; the immense light of
the Orient burst forth, and one would have said that it had set
fire to all those ferocious heads. Their tongues were unloosed;
a conflagration of grins, oaths, and songs exploded. The broad
horizontal sheet of light severed the file into two parts, illumin-
ating heads and bodies, leaving feet and wheels in the obscurity.
Thoughts made their appearance on these faces: it was a terrible
moment; visible demons with their masks removed, fierce souls
laid bare. Though lighted up, this wild throng remained in
gloom. Some, who were gay, had in their mouths quills through
which they blew vermin over the crowd, picking out the women;
the dawn accentuated these lamentable profiles with the blackness
of its shadows; there was not one of these creatures who was
not deformed by reason of wretchedness; and the whole was so
monstrous that one would have said that the sun's brilliancy had
been changed into the glare of the lightning. The wagon-load
which headed the line had struck up a song, and were shouting
at the top of their voices, with a haggard joviality, a pot-pourri
by Desaugiers, then famous, called 'The Vestal'; the trees shiv-
ered mournfully; in the cross-lanes, countenances of bourgeois.
listened in idiotic delight to these coarse strains droned by spec-
tres.
All sorts of distress met in this procession as in chaos: here
were to be found the facial angles of every sort of beast, old
men, youths, bald heads, gray beards, cynical monstrosities, sour
resignation, savage grins, senseless attitudes, snouts surmounted


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VICTOR HUGO
by caps, heads like those of young girls with corkscrew curls
on the temples, infantile visages, and by reason of that, horrible
thin skeleton faces, to which death alone was lacking. On the
first cart was a negro, who had been a slave in all probability,
and who could make a comparison of his chains. The frightful
leveler from below, shame, had passed over these brows; at that
degree of abasement, the last transformations were suffered by
all in their extremest depths, and ignorance converted into dull-
ness was the equal of intelligence converted into despair. There
was no choice possible between these men, who appeared to the
eye as the flower of the mud. It was evident that the person
who had had the ordering of that unclean procession had not
classified them. These beings had been fettered and coupled
pell-mell, in alphabetical disorder probably, and loaded hap-hazard
on those carts. Nevertheless, horrors, when grouped together,
always end by evolving a result; all additions of wretched
men give a sum total: each chain exhaled a common soul, and
each dray-load had its own physiognomy. By the side of the
one where they were singing, there was one where they were
howling; a third where they were begging; one could be seen
in which they were gnashing their teeth; another load menaced
the spectators, another blasphemed God; the last was as silent as
the tomb. Dante would have thought that he beheld his seven
circles of hell on the march; the march of the damned to their
tortures, performed in sinister wise, not on the formidable and
flaming chariot of the Apocalypse, but what was more mournful
than that, on the gibbet cart.
One of the guards, who had a hook on the end of his cudgel,
made a pretense from time to time of stirring up this mass of
human filth. An old woman in the crowd pointed them out to
her little boy five years old, and said to him, "Rascal, let that
be a warning to you! "
As the songs and blasphemies increased, the man who ap-
peared to be the captain of the escort cracked his whip, and at
that signal a fearful dull and blind flogging, which produced the
sound of hail, fell upon the seven dray-loads: many roared and
foamed at the mouth; which redoubled the delight of the street
urchins who had hastened up, a swarm of flies on these wounds.
Jean Valjean's eyes had assumed a frightful expression. They
were no longer eyes; they were those deep and glassy objects
which replace the glance in the case of certain wretched men,


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which seem unconscious of reality, and in which flames the
reflection of terrors and of catastrophes.