Chapter 189 six successors

Coincidentally, the team to which Lieutenant Theodule belonged was transferred to Paris for garrison.This event provided Aunt Gillenormand with an opportunity for a second stratagem.For the first time, she thought of asking Theodule to monitor Marius, and now she secretly planned to let Theodule replace Marius. In any case, it is likely that the old people feel that they need a young face at home, just as the dawn can sometimes give a warm feeling to ancient monuments.It would indeed be a good idea to find another Marius. "That's it," she thought, "very simple, it seems to be the kind of errata I have seen in many books; Marius should read Theodule."

Nephew and grandson, there is not much difference, a lawyer is lost, and a spearman is here. One morning, when M. Gillenormand was reading something like the "Daily News," his daughter came in and said to him in her softest voice, because it concerned someone she loved: "My father, Theodule is coming this morning to greet you." "Who is it, Theodule?" "Your grandnephew." "Ah!" said the old man. Immediately he began to read again, without thinking about the grand-nephew, some irrelevant Theodule, and he was already on fire, which almost always happened to him every time he read a newspaper.The piece of paper he held in his hand was, needless to say, a royalist publication, and it was reported that tomorrow, rain or shine, another small event of the kind that happened every day in Paris at that time would happen. At 19:00, law and medical students will gather in Pantheon Square for a discussion.It deals with one of the current issues: the problem of the artillery of the National Guard and the dispute between the Ministry of War and the Militia over the arrangement of the cannon in the courtyard of the Louvre.Students will have a "discussion" on this.No further news was enough to make M. Gillenormand bloated.

He thought of Marius, he was just a college student, and it was very likely that he would join everyone, "at twelve o'clock at noon, in the Pantheon Square, to hold a meeting to discuss." While he was meditating on this painful thought, Lieutenant Theodule entered, dressed as a gentleman—a very elegant dress—and led by Mademoiselle Gillenormand.The spearman considered that perhaps the old man had not converted his entire fortune into an annuity for life.It pays to wear common people's clothes often. Mademoiselle Gillenormand exclaimed to her father: "Theodule, your great-nephew."

Then he whispered to the lieutenant: "Follow him." Then they quit. The lieutenant was not quite used to such a solemn meeting, and timidly muttered: "Hello, my uncle." At the same time, he inadvertently gave a general salute that began with a military salute but ended with a bow. "Ah! It's you. Okay, sit down." The old ancestor said. Having said this, he completely forgot about the spearman. Theodule sat down, but M. Gillenormand got up. Monsieur Gillenormand was walking up and down, talking aloud with his hands in his pockets, and then with his ten excited old fingers he was scratching at the two watches that were in the pockets of his waistcoat.

"This bunch of runny-nosed brats! Meeting in the Pantheon! My bitch's chastity! A bunch of little hozens, who were still drinking their mother's milk yesterday! Go pinch their noses, milk will flow! And These guys will have a meeting at noon tomorrow to discuss! What a world! What a world! Needless to say, a dark world! This is a good example for us from those blouses! Citizen artillery! Discuss the issue of citizen artillery! Run to Go to the square and talk nonsense to the National Guard! Who are they hanging out with? Just think where Jacobinism is taking us. Bet me what you want, I'll bet Millions, I've won, I don't want you for a penny, tomorrow's meeting will be full of bad guys who have broken the law and prisoners who have served their sentences. Republicans and convicts are like noses and handkerchiefs. Carnot said: 'Where do you want me to go, traitor?' replied Fouché: 'Whatever you want, fool!' That's what is called a Republican."

"That is true," said Theodule. M. Gillenormand turned his head halfway, saw Theodule, and continued: "When I think of how arrogant this little trick is to learn Carbonari! Why did you leave my house? To become a Republican. Slow down, slow down! First of all the people don't appreciate your republic, they don't appreciate it, they understand Reason, they know that there have always been kings, and there will always be kings, and they know that, after all, the people are only the people, and they don't like it, your republic, do you hear, you fool! It's disgusting, your impulsiveness! Falling in love with Uncle Dusan, flirting with the guillotine, sneaking under the balcony of No. 93 to sing love songs and play the guitar, these young people should really spit on each of their faces One mouthful of spittle, they're so stupid! They're all like that, without exception. Just a sniff of the street air is enough to drive you crazy. The nineteenth century is a poison. Keep any kid Putting on a goatee, thinking you're really human, and leaving your old elders behind. That's the Republicans. That's the Romantics. What's a Romantic? Do yourself a favor and tell me what Call it Romanticism. Crazy. A year ago, these guys made you run to praise "Anani", I will ask you, "Anani"! Contrasting words, ugly things, even French It doesn't make sense! Besides, cannons are installed in the courtyard of the Louvre. These are all bandits of our time."

"You are right, my uncle," said Theodule. M. Gillenormand continued: "Cannons in the museum courtyard! What are you doing? Cannon, what are you going to do to me? Do you want to bombard Belvedere's Apollo? What do powder packs have to do with Medici's Venus? Oh! These young men these days are rascals! Their Bangaman Constant is nothing! These fellows are not villains, they are pussies! They try to make a fool of themselves, their clothes are ugly, they are afraid of women, They surrounded a group of little girls, like beggars begging, making the waitresses laugh out loud, and, to be honest, these poor wretches seemed ashamed to think of love. They were ugly, and they were stupid. , they are both talented and beautiful, they can't do without the witty words of Thieslan and Beauquier, their clothes are like cloth sacks, they wear groom's waistcoats, coarse shirts, coarse trousers, coarse leather boots, Their stripes are like bird feathers. Their vulgar language is good only for mending the soles of their shoes. And all these inexplicable dolls have their opinions on political matters. Political opinions should be strictly prohibited. They create institutions, they transform society, They overthrew the monarchy, they threw the whole set of laws on the ground, they put the garret where the cellars were, and my concierge on the throne, they turned Europe upside down, and they rebuilt the world, and their fun was thieves to peek at the thighs of the laundromats stepping into their wagons! Ah! Marius! Ah! Rascal! Go out and scream in the public square! Discuss, argue, decide! They call it method, justice God! The troublemaker shrunk and turned into a fool. I have seen the world in chaos, and today I see chaos again. Schoolchildren discussing the National Guard is not something that happens in a barbarian country. Those barbarians who are naked, with a bun like a shuttlecock on their heads, and holding a bludgeon in their paws, can't match the barbarism of these scholars! A few monkey cubs with a sous think they are great It's the end of the world. It must be the end of this poor earth. And a final hiccup, France is getting ready. Discuss, you rascals! These things always It will happen, if they go down the corridors of the Odeon and read the papers. The price they pay is a sou, plus their reason, plus their wit, plus their heart, plus their Their souls, and their spirits, make no one who comes out of that place want to go home again. All newspapers are plague gods, all of them, including the White Banner! And a Jacobin. Ah! Just God! You're proud of how hard you tortured your grandfather, you!"

"Of course," said Theodule. While M. Gillenormand was about to breathe a sigh of relief, the pikeman added solemnly: "There should be no newspapers other than the Bulletin, and no books other than the Military Annals." M. Gillenormand continued: "It's like their Sieyes! From a regicide to a senator! Because they always have to reach that position in the end. At first, everyone was not afraid of shame, and called you and me as citizens, but later, they had to They call him the count, the count as thick as an arm, the butcher of September! The philosopher Sieyès! I dare to boast: I have never regarded the philosophy of this group of philosophers more than that of Tivoli. The clowns who make ugly faces have heavier glasses! Once I saw some senators walking along the Marague River, wearing purple velvet cloaks with bees embroidered on them, and wearing Henry IV's style on their heads. They look so ugly, like monkeys in the hands of tigers. Citizens, I declare to you that your progress is a madness, your humanity is an utopia, and your revolution is a Crime, your republic is a monster, your young and beautiful France is born of a whore's family, and I hold my opinion before every one of you, whoever you are, you are political commentators Whether you are an economist or a jurist, whether you have a deeper understanding of liberty, equality, and fraternity than the guillotine axe! I tell you this, my foolish boys!"

"Admiration, admiration," cried the lieutenant, "it's absolutely true." M. Gillenormand stopped a gesture he had begun to make, turned and stared at Theodule, the pikeman, and said to him: "You're an idiot."