_Of the Author's Return to the Earth._
At length my Love for my Country took me off of the desire and thoughts
I had of staying there; I minded nothing now but to be gone; but I saw
so much impossibility in the matter, that it made me quite peevish and
melancholick. My Spirit observed it, and having asked me, What was
the reason that my Humor was so much altered? I frankly told him the
Cause of my Melancholy; but he made me such fair Promises concerning my
Return, that I relied wholly upon him. I acquainted the Council with my
design; who sent for me, and made me take an Oath, that I should relate
in our World, all that I had seen in that. My Passports then were
expeded, and my Spirit having made necessary Provisions for so long
a Voyage, asked me, What part of my Country I desired to light in? I
told him, that since most of the Rich Youths of _Paris_, once in their
life time, made a Journey to _Rome_; imagining after that that there
remained no more worth the doing or seeing; I prayed him to be so good
as to let me imitate them.
"But withal," said I, "in what Machine shall we perform the Voyage, and
what Orders do you think the Mathematician, who talked t'other day of
joyning this Globe to ours, will give me?" "As to the Mathematician,"
said he, "let that be no hinderance to you; for he is a Man who
promises much, and performs little or nothing. And as to the Machine
that's to carry you back, it shall be the same which brought you to
Court." "How," said I, "will the Air become as solid as the Earth, to
bear your steps? I cannot believe that." "And it is strange," replied
he, "that you should believe, and not believe. Pray why should the
Witches of your World, who march in the Air, and conduct whole Armies
of Hail, Snow, Rain, and other Meteors, from one Province into another,
have more Power than we? Pray have a little better opinion of me, than
to think I would impose upon you." "The truth is," said I, "I have
received so many good Offices from you, as well as _Socrates_, and the
rest, for whom you have [had] so great kindness, that I dare trust my
self in your hands, as now I do, resigning my self heartily up to you."
I had no sooner said the word, but he rose like a Whirlwind, and
holding me between his Arms, without the least uneasiness he made me
pass that vast space which Astronomers reckon betwixt the Moon and
us, in a day and a halfs time; which convinced me that they tell a
Lye who say that a Millstone would be Three Hundred Threescore, and
I know not how many years more, in falling from Heaven, since I was
so short a while in dropping down from the Globe of the Moon upon
this. At length, about the beginning of the Second day, I perceived I
was drawing near our World; since I could already distinguish Europe
from Africa, and both from Asia; when I smelt Brimstone which I saw
steaming out of a very high Mountain,[1] that incommoded me so much
that I fainted away upon it.
I cannot tell what befel me afterwards; but coming to my self again,
I found I was amongst Briers on the side of a Hill, amidst some
Shepherds, who spoke _Italian_. I knew not what was become of my
Spirit, and I asked the Shepherds if they had not seen him. At that
word they made the sign of the Cross, and looked upon me as if I had
been a Devil my self: But when I told them that I was a Christian,
and that I begg'd the Charity of them, that they would lead me to
some place where I might take a little rest; they conducted me into a
Village, about a Mile off; where no sooner was I come but all the Dogs
of the place, from the least Cur to the biggest Mastiff, flew upon me,
and had torn me to pieces, if I had not found a House wherein I saved
my self: But that hindered them not to continue their Barking and
Bawling, so that the Master of the House began to look upon me with
an Evil Eye; and really I think, as people are very apprehensive when
Accidents which they look upon to be ominous happen, that man could
have delivered me up as a Prey to these accursed Beasts, had not I
bethought my self that that which madded them so much at me, was the
World from whence I came; because being accustomed to bark at the Moon,
they smelt I was come from thence, by the scent of my Cloaths, which
stuck to me as a Sea-smell hangs about those who have been long on
Ship-board, for some time after they come ashore. To Air myself then,
I lay three or four hours in the Sun, upon a Terrass-walk; and being
afterwards come down, the Dogs, who smelt no more that influence which
had made me their Enemy, left barking, and peaceably went to their
several homes.
Next day I parted for _Rome_, where I saw the ruins of the Triumphs of
some great men, as well as of Ages: I admired those lovely Relicks;
and the Repairs of some of them made by the Modern. At length, having
stayed there a fortnight in Company of _Monsieur de Cyrano_ my Cousin,
who advanced me Money for my Return, I went to _Civita vecchia_, and
embarked in a Galley that carried me to _Marseilles_.
During all this Voyage, my mind run upon nothing but the Wonders of
the last I made. At that time I began the Memoires of it; and after my
return, put them into as good order, as Sickness, which confines me
to Bed, would permit. But foreseeing, that it will put an end to all
my Studies, and Travels;[2] that I may be as good as my word to the
Council of that World; I have begg'd of _Monsieur le Bret_, my dearest
and most constant Friend, that he would publish them with the History
of the _Republick of the Sun_, that of the _Spark_, and some other
Pieces of my Composing, if those who have Stolen them from us restore
them to him, as I earnestly adjure them to do.[3]
[1] Vesuvius.
[2] Fr., "travaux," _i.e._, old English _Travails_.
[3] The Manuscript of the _Bibliothèque Nationale_ ends differently:
"I enquired at the port when a ship would leave for France. And when I
was embarked, my mind ran upon nothing but the Wonders of my Voyage.
I admired a thousand times the Providence of God who had set apart
these naturally Infidel men in a place by themselves where they could
not corrupt his Beloved; and had punished them for their pride by
abandoning them to their own self-sufficiency. Likewise I doubt not
that he has put off till now the sending of any to preach the Gospel to
them, for the very reason that he knew they would receive it ill; and
so, hardening their hearts, it would serve but to make them deserve the
harsher punishment in the world to come."
This is very likely the original ending of the work as it was
circulated in Manuscript between 1649 and 1655. In any case, the
particular thrust-and-parry used here is a favorite stroke with the
"libertins" of the epoch in their duels against "Les Préjugés." "These
are not my opinions and arguments," they say; "Heaven forbid!... They
only express the ideas of my characters which of course I abhor." At
the same time the arguments have been stated, which was the object in
view. Cyrano has several times used this method already, notably at the
end of Chapter xvi.
The ending in the text above, that of all the editions, may have been
substituted by Cyrano himself during his last illness.
FINIS.
End of Project Gutenberg's A Voyage to the Moon, by Cyrano de Bergerac