The Promenade of the Young Males was again a spectacle for which I was
totally unprepared.
The spot itself was of a sylvan beauty that recalled the Elysian
fields with its shaded groves and soft greensward. Under the trees
were hundreds of marble seats grouped according to the castes where
the women as spectators had taken their posts of observation. I sought
feverishly for my lovely Dianne but in vain. Following Acquilla, I took
my place among the Minervenes and eagerly looked out at last upon my
fellow men.
For a moment, I could not believe my eyes. Groups of young men in
twos and threes were sauntering through the sylvan avenues, with a
rhythmical Andalusian swaying of their hips, glancing with timid
provocation over their long plumed fans, at the Amazons who gazed
down upon them with an estimating curiosity. I heard around me a buzz
of comments, which I must confess, reminded me strangely of certain
memories of club windows fronting on Fifth Avenue.
“A fine neck and shoulders.”
“The one, the third to the left, is a darling.”
“What a charming figure!”
“You can have him! Too athletic, but the boy over there is like a Greek
god.”
A Greek god! The expression in a flash made comprehensible to me the
metamorphosis. I remembered that every young girl, somewhere in her
life, had a Greek god as her ideal and now when the secrets of eugenics
were in their hands, what more natural, than that they should breed to
that ideal?
Just as among the Amazons, I had noted three variations, the blond
Greek, the dark Latin and the heavy intellectual Prussian, so I found
the males were bred for two distinct varieties. There was a graceful
Olympian type resembling the decadent period of Greek sculpture; lithe
and delicately turned, rounded and dimpled, the hair curled above the
forehead and piled high as in the famous Apollo Belvedere. In strong
contrast the second type had brown dusky skins and glossy black hair
brushed straight back. Slender and languorous in their movements,
they had the slanted seductive eyes which recalled to me a certain
predominant type of moving picture hero popular in my day. These
last carried small lutes of an agreeable tinkling sound with which
they accompanied their soft crooning voices. Their flowing tunics,
Attic in feeling, but with a touch of the licentiousness of the later
Directoire, were in multi-colored gossamer materials of an astonishing
richness that revealed the flowing lines of the graceful young bodies
beneath.
Several of the blonds, in fact exceeded the bounds of good taste in
the arrogant display of their soft shoulders and backs, with a curious
fluttering divided skirt which too boldly revealed the length of
their shapely legs. I noted with a growing repulsion, that not only
were these young debutants manifestly painted and powdered, but that
generally they had adopted ridiculously high heels to increase their
stature which I estimated at no more than five feet six.
“I am waiting for your comments, Bogardus,” said Acquilla gently. “Your
face is flushed and you are positively scowling. What angers you now?”
My face must have betrayed my extreme dejection! In truth, my courage
all but failed me then and there. What possible hope was there that I
alone against all the forces of a determined and relentless matriarchy,
could regenerate such a degenerate and decadent sex? But I did not wish
Acquilla to suspect my true thoughts.
“As if you did not know very well,” I answered. “What other feeling
except scorn and repulsion could I have, in seeing my fellow men
reduced to this artificial slavery and parading like prospective
concubines in the humiliation of a slave mart!”
“What do you specially object to?”
“I object to everything, their unmanly mincings and veiled
provocations. Good God! To think that my sex has descended to the arts
of decadent courtesans, to paint and perfume, to insidious advertising
of their physical charms, to giggling and smirking. If you did not
affirm it, I should refuse to believe these theatrical voluptuous
figures were men.”
“Yet, if they were women, nothing would astonish you?”
I caught myself, frowned, blurted out:
“Well, no. Of course not.”
“You see, Bogardus, you make the mistake that men made for centuries,
in believing that woman’s nature was different from man’s. All that you
have observed in this curious display is only acquired characteristics
and the acquired characteristics of the sex whose primary function is
to attract the stronger. Once it was woman, now it is man.”
“I am forced to believe it,” I said gloomily.
“And to be fair, if it were possible to revive the process, wouldn’t
I be just as indignant, if you were taking me to one of your assembly
balls?”
“I should like to drive them out with whips and scorpions,” I said,
evading an answer.
“On the contrary, they are really quite charming--for a week or so. Nor
is it fair to believe that what annoys you now is the result of our
suppression. The young fops of decadent Greece and Rome, I imagine,
would have excited your puritanical scorn just as much. It may be
painful to you, Bogardus--but it is better to face the truth. Is it
from such that you would attempt a movement for social equality?”
Carried away with my resentment, I did an impulsive and rash thing.
“Which would you prefer, Acquilla?” I said looking her boldly in the
eyes. “One of these decadent Roman demigods you have created or a man
like myself?”
“For a week or for a year?” said Acquilla, smiling.
“As a woman, any time!” I said insistently and the desire to avenge
myself on the humiliation of my sex was so strong, that I threw into my
voice, my look and the touch of my hand, all the animal magnetism that
my male instinct could summon.
Acquilla’s glance unlike Dianne’s, never fell. On the contrary, a
quick feline light gleamed in her eyes as she looked at me.
“You, of course,” she said tensely, to my dismay. “Being what I am, you
on your own terms, you all my life! And just as frankly, dear man, if
it were a question of a hundred men like you to be let loose among our
society, I should cast my vote at once for extermination.”
A shudder passed over me. To be loved by Acquilla, was like being loved
by a coldly reasoning tigress. I regretted instantly the dangerous
provocation I had given and uneasily changed the subject.
“Now that I am reconciled to realities,” I said, with a touch of
sarcasm, “I am anxious to understand more fully your customs. What is
the object of this parade?”
“What was the object of the introduction of your daughters to society?”
replied Acquilla. “Daughters to marry--men to mate! The principle is
the same, only I think we are franker, because we have done away with
inhibitions. Those you see with the white plumed fans are the debutants
of the first year. They do not mate immediately with the maidens of
their age, but are apprenticed to the Histriones for their sentimental
education. Those with the scarlet fans are of the second year.”
“Yes, they have a look of men of the world,” I said with a sarcasm that
was of course, lost on Acquilla.
At this moment, there was a perceptible stir of curiosity among the
languidly circulating males, a sudden chime of bells in the air and the
irruption of hundreds of young maidens, which I can only describe as
the scrambling rush of the stags at a ball. These young Dianas, dressed
in short tunics that stopped short of the knee, advanced eagerly and
posting themselves at points of vantage, stared appraisingly at the
fluttering males, with a boldness that Don Juan himself might have
envied.
The debutants of the first year, I observed, pretended an indifference
which their furtive glances belied, as they endeavored by careless
and seemingly haphazard meetings to attract their attention. But the
superior Dianas (I had almost written “the young bucks,” so completely
did their impertinent inspection suggest the manners of the highborn
oglers of other days) indifferent to these timorous advances, had eyes
only for their more experienced brothers. The white fans, as though
conscious of their inferiority, gradually drifted away to the grove of
the Histriones.
I beheld then, the curious sight of hundreds of couples moving
languidly with the woman’s arms around the man, her head bent in
solicitous courtship.
“Are these women virgins?” I asked.
“Oh, absolutely,” said Acquilla. “We permit no intercourse until a
woman has borne her female child. These first unions are serious and
endure for six months, during which time the male resides in the
seclusion of the woman’s home.”
“In a solitary seraglio?”
“Naturally. What you see is only the first of the promenades. They
continue every week for several months during the period of courtship,
before the final engagements are concluded.”
“Then the men have a freedom of choice?”
“Theoretically, yes, but they seldom exercise that right.”
“But supposing several women desire the same man?”
“That often happens, but the priority is determined by the eugenics
board according to their qualifications.”
“But doesn’t this arouse fierce jealousies?”
“Why, one man is like another. Besides, it’s a question of waiting.”
“One question,” I persisted, “I comprehend that in this age of reason,
you have done away with sentiment. But have you so completely dominated
the emotions that these mating comradeships do not sometimes develop
into what we called the passion of love? And what then?”
“In the young, it is quite true that violent attractions take place,”
said Acquilla. “But as we know that such infatuations are immoral, we
limit the duration of the attachment to six months.”
“Immoral?” I said, looking at her fixedly. “How am I to understand
that?”
“What do you mean?” said Acquilla perceiving, I think, her slip.
I saw my opportunity and seized it.
“Six months!” I exclaimed indignantly. “A plaything for six months! So
that is all you have had in mind. Now I know your real intentions.”
“A particular case has nothing to do with a general law,” said Acquilla
with her genius for easy evasion. “Besides, such a case as yours has yet
to be determined. Trust me, my dear one. I shall know how to protect
us.”
My glance dropped before the ardor of her look.
“But how can passion under your society ever be immoral?” I asked.
“Morality is order, and immorality disorder. Anything that takes
away from a woman the control over her faculties is of the quality
of disorder and therefore immoral. The moment the relationship
exceeds the bounds of her self-control, a woman passes into a state
of emotional servitude and ceases to think honestly. Of course, in
your day, you used marriage as a moral umbrella, forgetting that in
the majority of cases, marriage either became a physical slavery or
worse, and where hatred had risen, contrary to the natural selective
principles of nature and therefore doubly immoral.”
“All this is marvelously if incredibly reasoned, Acquilla,” I said,
“but since you admit that the passions do flame out, how do you treat
them?”
“With the exception of the Histriones, where for the purposes of art
we encourage a certain emotional latitude to produce that contact with
suffering which the artist we know must experience; the cases you refer
to, are rare. The remedy is of course, simple. All emotions have a
physical or glandular origin so that a short period of treatment in the
hospital corrects the malady.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to recommend to her an immediate
treatment, but I conquered my sense of humor. Our relations had now
reached so critical a point that I realized they would bear no further
provocation. So I said smiling: “But if the woman doesn’t want to be
cured?”
“You forget,” said Acquilla, with a gesture to the assembly, “that men
such as you see there, can have only a physical appeal. In the rare
case where an accidental intelligence may complicate the emotional
problem, and this has only happened to the Histriones, there is a
choice. We cannot, in the name of morality, permit the continuance
of a relationship which has degenerated into a disorganization of
the senses, but we do permit the unfortunate couple the right to be
translated together through the Frigidrome into another existence.”
“Wait.” I stopped and took her hand genuinely moved. “Do I understand,
my dear Acquilla, that you are prepared to take this voyage into time
with me?”
“If there is no other way out--yes,” she said tremulously.
“But if I could show you another way?” I said, pressing her arm in my
eagerness.
In that heroic moment, I was ready to sacrifice Dianne for Acquilla.
“What way, dear?” she asked startled.
“Help me to restore men to their former dignity and rights. Make them
your mates and not simply breeders.”
“Never!” she cried, drawing her hand instantly away from me. “Betray
my beliefs--never! I shall sacrifice myself but never my civilization!
Understand that once and for all, Bogardus!”
“Incorruptible one!” I murmured in involuntary admiration.
“Incorruptible as Robespierre,” I added to myself, “and just as
implacable.”
“You will find as a matter of fact,” Acquilla added after a moment’s
reflection, “that we are always guided by the strictest sense of
justice. Our acquired scientific wisdom has laid down certain
inviolable rules of conduct. If an individual refuses to conform we
don’t avenge ourselves by any cruel or unusual method of punishment, we
simply remove him to another civilization.”
“Nothing could be more just, oh, Solomon,” I admitted enthusiastically,
“and you put to shame our archaic penal system where a man was not even
permitted the right to take his own life.”
“Bear always in mind, dear,” said Acquilla with an approving nod, “that
man’s logic always reasoned from traditions, whereas we women reason
from the immediate necessity. Your brain was a deductive one, ours is
always inductive. It is that power of divination, of sensing first
what ought to be, that has produced the great feminine discoveries in
science.”
During the conversation, I had become increasingly aware of the
disturbance that my presence was creating. Groups of maidens passed
and repassed, gazing at me with undisguised curiosity and admiration,
until becoming bolder they remained in a whispering group gazing up at
me. Whether a certain license was permitted at these affairs or whether
Acquilla was moved by a sense of pride in a coveted possession, she
made no effort to dispel these inquisitive groupings. I sustained this
persistent admiration with as indifferent a countenance as possible
until I noticed that the attraction I exerted was arousing the evident
displeasure of the young males, who from their furious glances and
mutterings seemed to regard my presence as an unwarranted intrusion.
This attitude became so noticeable that I said hastily to Acquilla:
“My dear Acquilla, though a man of a certain vanity, I am unfortunately
afflicted with a little modesty and as, after all, I am not on parade,
couldn’t we leave the field to its rightful possessors?”
Acquilla rose and offering her arm drew me through the crowd which in
response to a peremptory gesture, immediately dissolved and left us
free. We passed thus, through this curiously inverted throng of lovers
and arrived at the grove of the Histriones, where unfortunately my
presence created an even greater disturbance. Dulcina and Carrilla came
hurriedly forward and embraced me with a warmth that was noticeably
displeasing to Acquilla.
I searched feverishly for my lovely Dianne and discovered her at
length, in a farther group, devouring me with her ardent gaze. She
laid her fingers on her lips, to signal to me to be patient, and I
understood that, fearful of betraying her passion before Acquilla, she
preferred to remain in the background.
The young males of the first year, were at this moment performing a
ballet with the evident intention of attracting the attention of the
most famous of the Histriones, and truth compels me to admit that in
the grace of their flying movement, they surpassed any ballet that I
had previously witnessed. The attention of the charming Histriones,
which had been fixed on the _premiers danseurs_, was quite naturally
diverted to me. The result was disastrous. The entire chorus, aware
of the sudden relaxation in the attention of the audience, stopped,
began to whisper and abruptly abandoned the scene. Before I could
make my apologies for this regrettable interruption, a messenger
approached Acquilla and summoned her to what I learned afterwards, was
a suddenly convoked meeting of the Supreme Council. To leave me with
the Histriones was extremely distasteful, but the summons being of a
peremptory nature, she was forced to make the best of it.
Hardly had she disappeared, when Dianne seized my hand, and drawing me
out of the crowd, led me into a shady grotto.
“I have only a moment to warn you,” she said hastily, “but the Council
has been convoked on your account.”
“On mine?” I exclaimed, with a feeling of uneasiness.
“You see, your position here is an irregular one. You are of course,
a man and subject to all the regulations, but you are enjoying the
freedom that we permit only to our own sex. The young males are
furious, naturally.”
“At last--” I exclaimed triumphantly. “Am I to be incarcerated then?”
“Don’t worry, my beloved,” said Dianne, putting her arm around my neck
and looking at me with glowing eyes, “and forgive me if I’m a good deal
in what is about to happen to you. For I can stand anything, rather
than the thought of your being alone day and night with Acquilla. You
will have to enter the Club for a short while, but by entering it,
you will acquire a freedom of action that you never could have had as
Acquilla’s prisoner.”
“You will take me out yourself, oh, Dianne!” I exclaimed, divining the
whole stratagem in her amorous glances.
“You have always the right to refuse,” said the bewitching creature,
drawing near me.
My answer was to fold her into my arms and gather her to me with a
passion that obliterated all consciousness. All at once I felt a
shudder pass through her soft body, and with a cry of alarm she sprang
from me. I looked up. Acquilla, with blazing eyes, was staring at us.
“I might have guessed your stratagem, treacherous Histrione,” she cried
bitterly. “Very well, the responsibility is on your head! Good-bye,
Bogardus!”
Before we could stammer an excuse, she turned abruptly on her heel and
went off with a final menacing gesture. The next moment the officials
appeared and signified to me the decision of the Supreme Council.
“Courage, my beloved,” said Dianne, clasping me to her a last time.
“Acquilla is a terrible enemy, but I too, have great influence. Only do
be careful at the Club. Be patient until your friends can organize in
your support. I’ll get you out as soon as I can.”