Eugène Sue

“ We may not lay our fingers on the goods of the Church!" cried one of the three kneeling women. "We would be damned for all time!"
"Yes, yes," shouted the other two. "Keep still, hermit!"
"Poor creatures! Steeped in ignorance and blindness!" exclaimed Ronan. "Do you care for the life of your bishop?"
"We would undergo a thousand deaths for his sake!"
"Oh! Pious women!" cried Cautin ecstatically. "What a superb part of paradise will not be yours! And now, until the day of eternal life come, I give you absolution for all your past sins, and all the future ones that you may commit." ”

“ The joy of having saved his sons and of having Neroweg in his power seemed to impart new life to him. His eyes sparkled, his cheeks were aflame, he contemplated the count with greedy looks.
"We shall be revenged," said Ronan, "you will be revenged, little Odille."
"Ronan, I ask no vengeance for myself; in our prison I often said to the good hermit-laborer: 'If ever I should be free again, I shall not return evil for evil.' "
"Yes, sweet child—as sweet as pardon. But you need not fear, our father will not kill that man unarmed," answered Loysik. ”

“ We take communion with the wine, the treasures and the wives of the seigneurs, the bishops and rich Gauls who made common cause with the Frankish counts and dukes to whom King Clovis gave our old Gaul. The Franks have pillaged us, they massacred and burned down; so let us do likewise—pillage, massacre and burn! And let us live in joy—'Wolves,' 'Wolves' Heads' and Wand'ring men!' Vagres that we are! Let us live in summer under the green foliage, and in winter in caverns warm!
"Death unto oppressors! Freedom to the slave! Let us take from the seigneurs! Let us give unto the poor! ”

“ Oh, seigneur Count Neroweg! How sweet it is to you to thus enjoy the delights of this land that your kings conquered with their own and the swords of their leudes! You and your fellows, the new masters of this soil that our fathers' labors fecundated, live in idleness and sloth. To drink, eat, hunt, play at dice with your leudes, outrage our wives, sisters and daughters, and then attend church every week—such is the life of the Franks who now possess the vast domains that they plundered us of! Oh, Count Neroweg! ”

“ First bent down under the Roman conquest, Gaul re-rises through the courage of her sons and becomes again free and redoubtable! Let the past give you faith in the future! Perchance that future is still far away. What is time to us—to us, who at this supreme moment have but the last few hours of our life to count! Oh, my brother, I have a profound faith, an invincible faith, in the final rejuvenation and enfranchisement of Gaul!—centuries are centuries to man; they are but instants in the eternal progress of mankind! ”

“ Ha, Chram, if you only heard their voices, the bellowing of a bull is like the song of a nightingale beside their barking when they are on the tracks of a wild boar. I am justly proud of my dogs."
"I wager that one of them will be enough to kill the bear as truly as my name is Spatachair."
"Come, tie the bear to one of the beams, old mountebank, and let us begin." "I told you, if your beast is killed, I shall pay whatever sum you may say, royally and without chaffering."
"Illustrious King, have pity on a poor man." ”

“ The King is no more than the slave in the eye of the Almighty. Both King and slave must bow down to earth in order to appease the wrath of the Eternal. Down on your knees, O King! Down on your knees, both you and your favorites!"
"Dare you issue orders to me?" cried Chram pale with rage at the sight of the abject submission of his men to the bishop's orders. "Who is master here, you or I, insolent priest?"
A thunder clap that reverberated in the hollows of the mountain closed the mouth of Chram, and served the knavery of Cautin to perfection. ”

“ Let Godegisele array herself in the most resplendent jewels of your fourth wife Wisigarde! Hurry, hurry, seigneur count! Let Godegisele don her most attractive raiment! She may be to the taste of Chram or of his favorites. He is a gracious king, an accommodating king. There is none more so. Is a woman, whether free or slave, pleasing to the eye of any friend of his, he forthwith equips his favorite with a royal diploma, by virtue of which he takes the woman that he covets. ”

“ Manacled like his brother, whose torture he had shared, the hermit-laborer was seated near Ronan and seemed deeply moved at the tender care that the bishopess bestowed upon the young slave girl.
"Die, little Odille," said Ronan, "die, my child. It is better far that you die of the wound which your brave hand inflicted upon yourself, when, a month ago, you thought I was dead. It is better far that you die now, than to be burned alive to-morrow."
"Poor little one, the strain of this day's experience has exhausted her strength! Look, Ronan, her face, alas! grows paler and paler." ”

“ An old Frankish chief, a hunchback named Sigebert, was King of Cologne. This is the way these bandits become Kings: they pillage and ravage a province at the head of a band, massacre or sell like so many heads of cattle men, women and children, reduce the rest of the inhabitants to slavery, and then they say: 'Here we are Kings'; the bishops echo back: 'Yes, our friends the Franks are Kings here; we shall baptize them into the Church; and you, people of Gaul, obey them or we will damn you!"
"And has there never been found any courageous man to plant a dagger in the heart of such a King?" ”

“ Alas, what a misfortune this fire is!"
"Sigefrid, I have unlocked the railing," said one of the Franks; "shall we begin with the men or the women?"
"I shall begin with the men!" cried Karadeucq, planting his dagger in the breast of Sigefrid.
"I also!" cried the Master of the Hounds, stabbing another one of the Franks.
"Vagrery! Vagrery! To us, all brave slaves! Death to the Franks! War upon the seigneurs! Liberty to the slaves! Long live all Gaul!"
"The Vagres!" cried the thunder-struck Franks, dumbfounded at the death of the two leudes. "The Vagres! ”

“ Oh, King, I would have wept all the tears in my head over those unhappy Bretons whose detestable druid idolatry condemns them to the everlasting flames, as our holy bishop used to say: unhappy blind men who shut their eyes to the divine light of the faith! unhappy rebels, who dare turn their arms against our good seigneurs and masters, the Frankish Kings, whom our blessed bishops order us to obey in the name of the Church! ”

“ And now that I know about the murder of Wisigarde, my life will be but one long and cruel agony."
"But, madam, you should have refused to wed the count, seeing he inspired you with such horror."
"I dared not, Morise. Oh, he will surely kill me! Woe is me! He will kill me!"
"Why think you, madam, that he will commit such a crime again? You never as much as whisper a word, whatever he may do or say. He abuses us, the female slaves, seeing he is master, and you never complain; you never set foot outside of the women's apartments, except for a short walk along the fosse of the burg. ”

“ The count's terror increased amain while Morise ran out for the clerk, and Godegisele, more dead than alive with fear, clung on her knees to the beam as she felt her strength wholly leaving her. The count noticed not her distress, but also dropping on his knees smote his chest and cried:
"Lord, God! Have mercy upon a miserable sinner! I paid for my brother's death, I paid for the death of my wife Wisigarde, I shall pay still more to keep Wisigarde from haunting me! I shall to-morrow start the building of the chapel in the fastness of Allange; I shall have the villa of Bishop Cautin rebuilt! ”

“ How good it feels to inhabit that burg, built by Gallic slaves who were carried away from their own fields, homes and families, and who were made to carry on their backs, under the threat of the clubs of your warriors, the timber from the woods, the stones from the mountain, the sand from the river and the lime from the bowels of the earth—after which, streaming with sweat, broken with fatigue, dying with hunger, receiving for their only pittance a handful of beans, they lay down upon the damp ground, their heads barely sheltered with a roof of rushes! ”

“ What a robust and graceful build did not his Gallic blouse reveal with the belt of his hunting knife! He must be some forester slave of the neighborhood! A slave! What does it matter! He is young, handsome, nimble and amorous! My husband's concubines also are slaves! Oh! Shall I never enjoy a day of love, of freedom?"
In the meantime, what is the bishop doing while his bishopess, lost in revery on the balcony over the terrace, contemplates the stars, sighs into the darkness, and breathes her sorrows and her devilish hopes upon the midnight breezes? ”

“ Aye, where is she, the proud and powerful Gaul of the days of the Chief of the Hundred Valleys, of the Sacrovirs, the Vindexes, the Civiles, the Victorias?"
"Who is the present inheritor of Gaul's one-time valor? The Vagres, the 'Wolves-Heads,' the 'Wolves!' It is they alone who still carry on the struggle against the barbarians!"
"And yet we are hunted like wild beasts, put to the rack and hanged if taken!"
"But our nails are sharp and our teeth trenchant to tear to pieces and devour our enemies!" ”

“ No, no, ever following the example of your glorious King, your refined and courteous honor will revolt at such brutal cowardice, even if committed towards a poor animal! Oh, warriors who are as brilliant by your armor and military grace as you are terrible by your valor, I place myself at the mercy and under the protection of your King. He will demand the life of my bear of the seigneur count, who can refuse nothing to such a noble guest! ”

“ Who produced these wines, these mountains of venison, of fish, of beef, of pork, of mutton, of game, of poultry, of vegetables and fruit? Gaul! The country that is cultivated and rendered fruitful by a population of starvelings, whose representatives, wan with hunger and privation in the midst of such plenty, officiate as living torches to light the banquet. That heap of good things is produced by men and women who, huddled in mud and straw huts, are, at that very moment, and in utter exhaustion, partaking of a tasteless pittance. ”

“ Quick, quick, seigneur count! Order your leudes to take horse and your foot soldiers to put on their gala armors, and yourself, seigneur count, head your band, cased in your parade armor and carrying on your side the magnificent gold-hilted Spanish sword, which you stole on the occasion of the plundering of the land of the Visigoths, the "damned Arians" and "accursed heretics," upon whom the Catholic bishops let you loose with the fagot in one hand, the sword in the other, exactly as you let loose your pack of hounds upon the wild beasts of the forest! ”

“ Mirff was the first to dash forward, aiming at his belly, but that very instant the Vagre-bear struck him so violent a blow over the head that the club broke in three, and Mirff dropped as if struck by thunder, and emitting terrible howls.
"Malediction!" cried the count. "There goes a mastiff that cost me three gold sous! Here, my men, have that ferocious bear immediately disemboweled with your boar spears and iron bars!" ”

“ How good it feels to hear the ice-laden blast thunder, when one sees his family merrily gathered in the house around a blazing fireplace! And then, the young lads and their sister whisper things to one another that make them shiver and smile at once. For it does, indeed, look as if during the last century all the hobgoblins and all the fairies of Gaul have taken refuge in Britanny. Is it not a positive pleasure to hear tell during a tempest and by the fire those wonders to which one gives a lingering credence if one has not seen them himself, and more so if one has seen them? ”

“ The rule of the oppressors will pass away; and then the first will be the last, and the last will be the first."
"Jesus, the friend of the sorrowful, said the iron of the slave will be broken. Hope!"
"Unite! Love one another! Help one another, children of one God, sons of one country! Disunited, you can do nothing; united you will be stronger than your oppressors. The day of deliverance may be nigh! Love, unity, patience!"
"Aye! Aye! These are the precepts that the hermit-laborer teaches us!"
"And these precepts, brothers, you must remember and act upon at this hour," replied the monk-laborer. ”

“ May it please the gods that it may not some day be in Britanny as in the other provinces of Gaul! May it please the gods that our country, the only one that to-day remains free, may never fall under the domination of the Franks and the bishops of Rome. May our druids, both the Christian and the non-Christian, continue to inspire us with a love for freedom and with the virile virtues of our ancestors. ”