It was a magnificent palace, built on the side of a broad highway,
along which a great number of travellers passed every day.
This palace had an elegant façade on each of its four sides; a
colonnade supported by admirable columns surrounded it. It is true that
this colonnade prevented the entrance of any light into the palace;
but the exterior view of it was so beautiful that nobody ventured to
criticise it objectively; besides, what need of daylight has anybody in
a palace? Have they not lustres and candelabra? Why trouble themselves
about the sun, then? Every portion of the dome of this palace was
gilded, and produced a most dazzling effect.
The queen who lived in this dwelling-place was a tall and handsome
woman, who, instead of a heart, had in her bosom a large diamond cut in
the form of a heart; it was believed to be on that account that she had
never loved.
On the front of her palace were written these words in ruby letters:
"HERE YOU MAY OBTAIN WHATEVER YOU
MAY WISH FOR."
A young man passing along the road stopped to look at this superb
monument, and having perceived this sign--for it bore a strong
resemblance to a sign--he suddenly exclaimed:--
"Faith, I'd like to go inside! I'm tired of being in the condition I'm
in, and should not be sorry to be something else."
As he went towards one of the porticos, he noticed a beggar seated near
it on a stone and laughing.
"You are laughing at me, old fellow," said the young wayfarer; "but I
give you back your laugh; for you must be a fool to remain in rags at
the door of a palace where you have only to wish for a new coat to be
dressed like a prince. Perhaps you don't know how to read?"
"Oh, yes!--I know how to read--even writing in rubies," replied the old
man.
"Well, then, have you nothing to desire, that you do not enter this
palace?"
"Truly, yes. I desire more things than one; but not any such as they
give away here."
The old man had such an air of cunning as he said this, that the young
man mistrusted him.
"He is laying some kind of trap for me," he thought, and was about
passing on his way.
"Don't be afraid; no harm will come to you in this palace," the old man
went on. "Troubles exist there only for those who ask for them: take my
word for it, you may go in fearlessly."
"Yes; but may I come out again?"
"Certainly you may," replied the beggar, "if you find nothing there you
wish for."
The young man hesitated. He saw a number of people pass along the road,
and not one of them seemed to have an idea of entering this palace.
That struck him as being suspicious, and he took alarm.
"Is this palace shunned by travellers? How comes it that not one enters
it?"
"It is because they have heard about it; they know that people are
bored there, and, in his home, everybody likes to amuse himself."
Seeing that the young man was curious to visit this monument, the old
beggar said to him: "I'll tell you what I'll do; if you'll give me the
price of a bottle of good wine, I'll sacrifice myself and go in with
you--and we'll laugh together at the imbeciles who live there."
"Agreed!" cried the young man.
He gave the old beggar a piece of money, and they went up to the door.
It was made of crystal, and afforded a view of the interior and of the
bell which had to be rung to obtain admission.
On examining it carefully, the young traveller observed that this bell
was made of gold, and had for its clapper a fine pear-shaped pearl, of
such beauty that it dazzled his sight.
He stood motionless, gazing at it.
"Ring!" cried the old beggar, becoming impatient at length.
"Really, I dare not," replied the young man; "I am afraid of injuring
this beautiful pearl by ringing the bell. It would be such a pity; it
is so admirable!"
"Bah!" cried the beggar, who knew very little about jewels, "let me do
it--I'm not afraid."
"No, no; let us rather knock at the door----"
But he stopped himself; for it occurred to him that, as this handsome
door was made of crystal, a blow with the knocker would at least crack
it.
Tired by these hesitations, the old beggar seized the knocker and
struck so heavy a blow with it that the door was shivered into
fragments.
They entered freely.
There was nobody in the vestibule; in the Palace of Vanity nobody would
remain in the ante-chamber. And yet this ante-chamber surpassed in
luxury many drawing rooms. It was adorned with statues representing
gods and goddesses, and pictures representing kings and queens, princes
and princesses.
It was paved with jasper and porphyry; but this pavement was so highly
polished, so slippery, that the young man, whose shoes were studded
with hobnails, was near falling several times within the space of three
minutes. He was obliged to cling to the walls, and would rather have
walked upon ice, as then he might have had on a pair of skates.
[Illustration: "THE DOOR WAS SHIVERED INTO FRAGMENTS."]
The old man also slipped a little, but his beggar's staff supported him.
After much difficulty they at length reached a vast room, in which a
number of persons were assembled. Their costumes were magnificent; the
women were covered with jewellery. They had jewels even on their rich
Court mantles, which trailed along the carpet; their bracelets, their
necklaces, their diadems were dazzling. The young traveller, whom we
shall henceforth call Alméric, was delighted by the sight.
The men were not much less splendidly decorated than the women in this
drawing-room: they wore coats of velvet embroidered with diamonds, and
on their heads caps, each ornamented with four ostrich feathers worthy
to adorn the hat of a queen.
"Who are these great personages?" Alméric asked the beggar.
"These are the domestics of the house," he replied.
Indeed, as soon as these _princes_ saw the two travellers enter, they
came to them to take their orders, and to ask whether they desired to
visit the palace.
"Phew!" said Alméric to himself, "here are indeed some well-kept
people!" But fear of being indiscreet made him say aloud: "Perhaps we
should be incommoding the inhabitants of this palace, by visiting them
at this hour; perhaps----"
"Incommode the inhabitants of the Palace of Vanity!" cried the beggar,
ironically; "I defy you to do it, young man!--they are here only to
show themselves, and they are never troubled by people coming to admire
them: you might as well be afraid of incommoding actors by going to the
theatre to see them."
The young man could not refrain from laughing at this reflection.
"Show us the wonders of the palace," the old man said to the
attendants. "Here is a traveller who desires to live here; but, before
expressing his wishes, he wants to know something about you. Go before
and conduct us."
The young traveller was greatly surprised at the old beggar's off-hand
treatment of these superb valets, and at their readiness to obey him;
he did not know that the philosopher's vanity takes the _pas_ of all
others. So many things astonished him that he dare not ask any more
questions.
A fat woman of ripe age, who filled the functions of housekeeper, at
once stepped forward and handed the keys of the house to the valet who
was to conduct the two guests. Alméric saw behind her two little pages
who were bearing her mantle, and whom the enormity of her bulk had at
first entirely hidden from his sight.
These two pages no more quitted her than her shadow. It was a
prerogative of her rank not to be able to take a single step, or
perform a single act, without the attendance of these two babe-kins.
Her eagerness to obey the beggar made her forget her two little
gendarmes, and she advanced so quickly, without warning them, that they
did not think of following her, and held on so firmly to her mantle
that, in hurrying forward, she pulled them both down upon their noses,
while she herself was jerked upon her back. As she was very heavy,
she hurt herself considerably, and the other servants hastened to her
assistance.
"A Court mantle," said the beggar, "does not appear to me very
commodious for housework."
And the young traveller could not refrain from laughing at this
reflection.
One of the lackeys having taken up a candelabrum, conducted the
strangers through the vast apartments of the palace. They reached the
dining-room.
"Do you wish to sup, gentlemen?"
"By all means," said the beggar; "there is nothing but a good meal
which is not a vanity."
He seated himself at table. But he had hardly tasted any of the dishes
set before him, than he found them so fanciful, so salted, peppered,
sugared, truffled, and mixed, that he would not partake of one of them;
impossible to recognise the meat of a single animal, so highly was it
seasoned.
"What is this?" asked the old man--"rabbit?"
"No, monsieur--they are lamb cutlets."
"And this: lentil soup?"
"No, monsieur; hare soup."
It was a confusion, past all understanding. And yet more: everything
served was cold, for the hot-water plates were all of malachite, and
nobody dare pour hot water into them.
"Faith," said the beggar, "I'd rather have an omelette on a pewter
platter," and he handed to a servant in waiting his gilded plate. The
servant in bowing to take it took no heed of the candles burning on the
table, and forgot all about the plumes which adorned his head. They
approached too near the flame, and a strong odour of burnt feathers
announced that the plume was grilling.
"A white _panaché_ does not appear to me to be convenient for waiting
at table," said the beggar again; and again the young stranger could
not refrain from laughing at this reflection.
"The queen of this mansion, the Princess Vanita, is not here at
present, is she?" asked the beggar.
"No, monsieur," replied one of the lackeys; "she is, at this moment,
with her favourite adorers, in a country the name of which I forget,
but which is highly renowned for its wines."
[Illustration: "SHE PULLED THEM BOTH DOWN UPON THEIR NOSES."]
"Ah! I guess she is in France," said the beggar: "she will not soon be
back."
Perched on a rich rod, a handsome paroquet was screeching at some
distance from the table: "Fly quickly! fly quickly! Don't stop in this
palace!"
Alméric went over to her.
"Why should we fly?" he asked: "are you not happy here?"
"Alas!--look at me," replied the paroquet; "I wished to be beautiful: I
desired claws of gold, ruby wings; and now I am condemned to rest here
all my life, motionless, as you see; for it is impossible to fly with
wings made of rubies or to walk with feet made of gold."
Near the window they observed a large cat. It did not stir from where
it lay, and appeared to be very discontented.
"What is the matter with you, puss?" inquired Alméric.
"Excuse me," replied the cat, "is it a horse, a serpent, a donkey, a
man, or a woman to whom I have the honour of speaking? I can't see;
pray excuse me."
"You are blind?" said Alméric, compassionately.
"Alas! yes, monsieur--and by my own fault. I had so long heard emerald
eyes praised that I wished for them, and ever since that time have lost
my sight. I do not even know whether my eyes are as pretty as they
have been said to be. Will you be so kind as to tell me what is your
impression on the subject? Look at me. Do you think that emerald eyes
go well with my face?"
Alméric wished to say that he thought her eyes beautiful, to console
her for having lost her sight, but the old beggar was inexorable.
"Your eyes are abominably ugly!" he said, roughly.
"Impossible!" replied the cat. "They _must_ shine?"
"No!" cried the old man; "nothing shines out of its place! Take my
advice--hide them, put on spectacles; and if ever you have any more
emeralds, make them into rings and not into eyes."
[Illustration: "FLY QUICKLY!"]
And, once more, the young man could not refrain from laughing at this
reflection.
On quitting the dining-room, they entered a superb court paved in
mosaic and surrounded by elegant columns.
They there perceived a bird which, by its plumage, might have been
taken for a vulture, but whose timid bearing had nothing of the bird of
prey in it.
"There is a vulture that, to me, has a very stupid look," observed the
beggar. "Who are you, old fellow?" he added, addressing the vulture.
"I am a vulture, a bird of prey; formerly a turkey, a farmyard bird. I
wished to mount in rank and quit the sphere in which I won nothing but
disrespect; but I repent--repent the change--for I cannot bring myself
to devour them."
"Devour whom?" cried Alméric.
"Alas! those good turkeys who have always been so kind to me."
"Ninny!" exclaimed the old beggar, "why did you get yourself turned
into a vulture? Better to be a turkey and liked, than a vulture--and
timid."
And again the young man could not refrain from laughing at this
reflection.
In one corner of the court there was a bear seated on a bench, his head
bowed down upon his chest and plunged in profound meditation.
"There's a fellow, too, who does not seem to know much about the
business of a bear," remarked the beggar. "How did he come to be in
this palace? What vanity has pushed him into the bear profession? I'd
lay a wager he once had a better."
The beggar approached the melancholy animal.
"Bear," he asked, "what were you before you got yourself transformed
into your present shape?"
"I was a doctor's assistant."
"A doctor's assistant!" repeated Alméric and the beggar in the same
breath.
"Yes, a doctor's assistant," replied the bear; "but everybody made fun
of my position. Men pursued me with their irony, made songs about me,
burlesqued me on the stage. I wished to escape them, and had myself
turned into a bear; but I am tired of my condition. I was not born for
solitude."
"You old fool!" cried the beggar, angrily, "why did you leave the
calling you were in? You might have avenged yourself on the men you
detest; for you do not appear to me to be very learned, and you might
have poisoned the universe with your drugs and your blunders."
The beggar was still speaking, when his attention was attracted by a
gigantic elephant in an adjoining court.
"An elephant!" he cried. "Who can have asked to be turned into an
elephant? an ant, I'll wager."
However, the old man was mistaken; it was not an ant that had desired
to be turned into an elephant: it was a rabbit. He had only recently
obtained that signal favour, and was still puffed up with pride at his
metamorphosis.
He was walking about heavily, and with an air of importance, and
received condescendingly all the compliments addressed to him on his
new promotion.
The beggar, having learned his history, advanced towards him familiarly.
"Good-day, bunny!" he said. "Well, how do you like your big skin?"
[Illustration: "'AN ELEPHANT!' HE CRIED."]
The elephant was greatly shocked at this disrespectful tone; but the
small practice he had had in the use of his trunk prevented him from
seeking to avenge himself.
"Thoroughly--as you see," he replied, strutting.
"Is it long since you asked this favour?" inquired the beggar,
maliciously.
"No," replied the elephant; "a few days ago only; as an old rabbit, I
had incontestable claims. I have really only changed in form: my colour
remains the same; my ears, instead of standing up, now fall down--that
is the only difference."
"The idiot!" thought the beggar; "he does not even believe himself to
have been changed!"
"Tell me, my dear fellow," said Alméric, who was greatly amused by
the rabbit's stupidity, "don't you find your ordinary habits somewhat
deranged?"
"You remind me," replied the rabbit, as if suddenly struck by an
idea: "I am afraid I _shall_ find my increased bulk inconvenient, on
returning to my burrow this evening."
This time the young man could not possibly refrain from laughing at
that reflection.
"Would you like to see the beautiful woman, gentlemen?" asked the
lackey who was conducting them.
"Yes, yes," replied Alméric, eagerly. "I should like to see the
'beautiful woman.' Where is she?"
"This way, gentlemen. Be good enough to enter this boudoir."
They passed into a charming room, formed entirely of
looking-glasses--the ceiling, the wainscotting, all was of
looking-glass, in which one could admire oneself from every point of
view.
The beautiful woman was lying upon a sofa. On beholding her, the
beggar and Alméric fell back in horror. This beautiful woman was a
monstrosity, but believed herself to be a _chef d'oeuvre_.
Every part of her was beautiful, and yet she appeared horrible; because
the exaggeration of beauties makes a hideous ensemble; because it is
harmony which gives grace to things we admire, movement which gives
life; and this beautiful woman had neither grace nor movement.
She had been born very pretty, but the excess of her vanity, and her
coquetry, had made her lose all her advantages. She was beautiful
as Nature had created her; she wished to be beautiful as beauty
is painted: she exaggerated all her graces and changed them into
deformities.
She asked for silken hair--she had long locks of silk, without life
or colour; she desired to have teeth of pearl, and her teeth appeared
horrible: she wished for a wasp-waist, and her body, drawn in by a
tight belt, was without grace or suppleness, and looked as if it might
snap in two at any moment; she asked for hands of alabaster, and her
hands became dull and cold; she desired to have the feet of a child,
and these deformed feet were not strong enough to sustain the weight
of her body or to permit her to walk. Nothing more hideous was ever
seen: it was ideal ugliness.
[Illustration: "A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN WAS LYING UPON A SOFA."]
"Thousand centimes!" exclaimed the beggar; "how horrible this
'beautiful woman' is!--the sight of her makes me in love again with my
old wife!"
Evening being come, a sleeping apartment was offered the strangers for
the night.
"A room here will be better than any I can get at an inn," thought
Alméric, following the valet, who conducted him to a magnificent
bedroom prepared for travellers.
Exhausted by the fatigues of the day, he lost no time in undressing
and getting into bed. But he had scarcely stretched himself before
beginning to utter loud cries of distress.
"Horror! my skin is being torn from my body! I am in torture! What is
the meaning of it? A perfidy! An abominable piece of cruelty!" and
a thousand like complaints: and yet all he complained of arose from
nothing but the admirable care which had been taken with his bed.
The sheets which covered it were of the finest Indian muslin,
embroidered with gold spangles, charming to look upon, but
inappreciable by a person used to lie upon sheets of coarse Holland. It
takes time to get accustomed to inconveniences of this sort.
Poor Alméric's feet were scratched all over. Every movement he made in
getting out of this terrible bed tore his skin; his arms were covered
with blood.
"Vanity of vanities!" he cried. "Old man, beggar, let us fly from this
place; there is no sleeping in this palace, and I am dying for want of
sleep."
"What do you think of sheets embroidered with gold spangles?" asked the
old man, laughing. "Could you have a more superb bed to sleep in?"
"Let us get out of this place," cried the young traveller, who was in
no jesting mood; "I'll not remain here another hour. The men here are
all stupid, the women frightful; one can neither eat here nor sleep.
Let us be off, old man--let us be off instantly!"
Alméric, who had hastily redressed himself, roughly pushed the beggar
out of the room, the old man laughing heartily all the while, and they
quitted the palace together, taking the way to the beggar's hovel.
[Illustration: "I AM IN TORTURE!"]
"Sleep here," said the old man, pointing to his truckle bed; "this
mattress is favourable to sleep, and your rest will not be disturbed by
spangled sheets--because there are no sheets of any kind. But what does
that matter?--it is sleep that makes good beds, as it is appetite that
makes good meals."
Alméric threw himself on to the beggar's bed and was soon sound asleep;
and the old man heard him cry out in his dreams:--
"It is all over! I wished to obtain the embassy to Constantinople; but
I will remain a simple notary at Saint-Quentin."
And the beggar, in his turn, could not refrain from laughing at this
reflection.
_The Queer Side of Things._