2.M.4.2. BLONDEAU'S FUNERAL ORATION BY BOSSUET
ON a certain afternoon, which had, as will be seen hereafter,
some coincidence with the events heretofore related, Laigle de
Meaux was to be seen leaning in a sensual manner against the
doorpost of the Cafe Musain. He had the air of a caryatid on
a vacation; he carried nothing but his revery, however. He
was staring at the Place Saint-Michel. To lean one's back
against a thing is equivalent to lying down while standing
erect, which attitude is not hated by thinkers. Laigle de
Meaux was pondering without melancholy, over a little
misadventure
which had befallen him two days previously at
the law-school, and which had modified his personal plans
for the future, plans which were rather indistinct in any
case.
Revery does not prevent a cab from passing by, nor the
dreamer from taking note of that cab. Laigle de Meaux,
whose eyes were straying about in a sort of diffuse lounging,
perceived, athwart his somnambulism, a two-wheeled vehicle
proceeding through the place, at a foot pace and apparently in
indecision. For whom was this cabriolet? Why was it driving
at a walk? Laigle took a survey. In it, beside the coachman,
sat a young man, and in front of the young man lay a rather
bulky hand-bag. The bag displayed to passersby the following
name inscribed in large black letters on a card which was
sewn to the stuff : MARIUS PONTMERCY.
This name caused Laigle to change his attitude. He drew
himself up and hurled this apostrophe at the young man in the
cabriolet: —
"Monsieur Marius Pontmercy!"
The cabriolet thus addressed came to a halt.
The young man, who also seemed deeply buried in thought,
raised his eyes: —
"Hey?" said he.
"You are M. Marius Pontmercy?"
"Certainly."
"I was looking for you," resumed Laigle de Meaux.
"How so?" demanded Marius; for it was he: in fact, he
had just quitted his grandfather's, and had before him a face
which he now beheld for the first time. "I do not know
you."
"Neither do I know you," responded Laigle.
Marius thought he had encountered a wag, the beginning of
a mystification in the open street. He was not in a very good
humor at the moment. He frowned. Laigle de Meaux went
on imperturbably: —
"You were not at the school day before yesterday."
"That is possible."
"That is certain."
"You are a student?" demanded Marius.
"Yes, sir. Like yourself. Day before yesterday, I
entered
the school, by chance. You know, one does have such freaks
sometimes. The professor was just calling the roll. You are
not unaware that they are very ridiculous on such occasions.
At the third call, unanswered, your name is erased from the
list. Sixty francs in the gulf."
Marius began to listen.
"It was Blondeau who was making the call. You know
Blondeau, he has a very pointed and very malicious nose, and
he delights to scent out the absent. He slyly began with the
letter P. I was not listening, not being compromised by that
letter. The call was not going badly. No erasures; the universe
was present. Blondeau was grieved. I said to myself:
'Blondeau, my love, you will not get the very smallest sort of
an execution to-day.' All at once Blondeau calls, 'Marius
Pontmercy!' No one answers. Blondeau, filled with hope,
repeats more loudly: 'Marius Pontmercy!' And he takes his
pen. Monsieur, I have bowels of compassion. I said to myself
hastily: 'Here's a brave fellow who is going to get scratched
out. Attention. Here is a veritable mortal who is not exact.
He's not a good student. Here is none of your heavy-sides,
a student who studies, a greenhorn pedant, strong on letters,
theology, science, and sapience, one of those dull wits cut by
the square; a pin by profession. He is an honorable idler who
lounges, who practises country jaunts, who cultivates the
grisette,
who pays court to the fair sex, who is at this very moment,
perhaps, with my mistress. Let us save him. Death to
Blondeau!' At that moment, Blondeau dipped his pen in,
all black with erasures in the ink, cast his yellow eyes round
the audience room, and repeated for the third time: 'Marius
Pontmercy!' I replied: 'Present!' This is why you were
not crossed off."
"Monsieur! — " said Marius.
"And why I was," added Laigle de Meaux.
"I do not understand you," said Marius.
Laigle resumed: —
"Nothing is more simple. I was close to the desk to
reply,
and close to the door for the purpose of flight. The professor
gazed at me with a certain intensity. All of a sudden, Blondeau,
who must be the malicious nose alluded to by Boileau,
skipped to the letter L. L is my letter. I am from Meaux,
and my name is Lesgle."
"L'Aigle!" interrupted Marius, "what fine name!"
"Monsieur, Blondeau came to this fine name, and called:
'Laigle!' I reply: 'Present!' Then Blondeau gazes at me,
with the gentleness of a tiger, and says to me: 'lf you are
Pontmercy, you are not Laigle.' A phrase which has a disobliging
air for you, but which was lugubrious only for me.
That said, he crossed me off."
Marius exclaimed: —
"I am mortified, sir — "
"First of all," interposed Laigle, "I demand permission to
embalm Blondeau in a few phrases of deeply felt eulogium. I
will assume that he is dead. There will be no great change
required in his gauntness, in his pallor, in his coldness, and
in his smell. And I say: 'Erudimini qui judicatis
terram.
Here lies Blondeau, Blondeau the Nose, Blondeau Nasica, the
ox of discipline, bos disciplinae, the bloodhound of the
password,
the angel of the roll-call, who was upright, square exact,
rigid, honest, and hideous. God crossed him off as he crossed
me off.'"
Marius resumed: —
"I am very sorry — "
"Young man," said Laigle de Meaux, "let this serve you
as a lesson. In future, be exact."
"I really beg you a thousand pardons."
"Do not expose your neighbor to the danger of having his
name erased again."
"I am extremely sorry — "
Laigle burst out laughing.
"And I am delighted. I was on the brink of becoming a
lawyer. This erasure saves me. I renounce the triumphs of
the bar. I shall not defend the widow, and I shall not attack
the orphan. No more toga, no more stage. Here is my erasure
all ready for me. It is to you that I am indebted for it,
Monsieur
Pontmercy. I intend to pay a solemn call of thanks
upon you. Where do you live?"
"In this cab," said Marius.
"A sign of opulence," retorted Laigle calmly. "I
congratulate
you. You have there a rent of nine thousand francs per
annum."
At that moment, Courfeyrac emerged from the cafe.
Marius smiled sadly.
"I have paid this rent for the last two hours, and I
aspire to
get rid of it; but there is a sort of history attached to it, and
I
don't know where to go."
"Come to my place, sir," said Courfeyrac.
"I have the priority," observed Laigle, "but I have no
home."
"Hold your tongue, Bossuet," said Courfeyrac.
"Bossuet," said Marius, "but I thought that your name
was Laigle."
"De Meaux," replied Laigle; "by metaphor, Bossuet."
Courfeyrac entered the cab.
"Coachman," said he, "hotel de la Porte-Saint-Jacques."
And that very evening, Marius found himself installed in a
chamber of the hotel de la Porte-Saint-Jacques side by side
with Courfeyrac.