| 847 | 848 | 849 | 850 | 851 |
| 1 | 236 | 472 | 708 | 944 |
|
am weighed down under the load of all that I have to say. Where am I to
begin? I know not. I have gathered together, in the vast diffusion of
suffering, my innumerable and scattered pleas. What am I to do with them
now? They overwhelm me, and I must cast them to you in a confused mass.
Did I foresee this? No. You are astonished. So am I. Yesterday I was a
mountebank; to-day I am a peer. Deep play. Of whom? Of the Unknown. Let
us all tremble. My lords, all the blue sky is for you. Of this immense
universe you see but the sunshine. Believe me, it has its shadows.
Amongst you I am called Lord Fermain Clancharlie; but my true name is
one of poverty--Gwynplaine. I am a wretched thing carved out of the
stuff of which the great are made, for such was the pleasure of a king.
That is my history. Many amongst you knew my father. I knew him not. His
connection with you was his feudal descent; his outlawry is the bond
between him and me. What God willed was well. I was cast into the abyss.
For what end? To search its depths. I am a diver, and I have brought
back the pearl, truth. I speak, because I know. You shall hear me, my
lords. I have seen, I have felt! Suffering is not a mere word, ye happy
ones! Poverty I grew up in; winter has frozen me; hunger I have tasted;
contempt I have suffered; pestilence I have undergone; shame I have
drunk of. And I will vomit all these up before you, and this ejection of
all misery shall sully your feet and flame about them. I hesitated
before I allowed myself to be brought to the place where I now stand,
because I have duties to others elsewhere, and my heart is not here.
What passed within me has nothing to do with you. When the man whom you
call Usher of the Black Rod came to seek me by order of the woman whom
you call the Queen, the idea struck me for a moment that I would refuse
to come. But it seemed to me that the hidden hand of God pressed me to
849
Page
Quick Jump
|