Bacacay (30 page)
Authors: Bill Johnston Witold Gombrowicz
While Marysia, half-conscious, awakened, entirely mechanically, at lightning speed closed her beloved jaws—and the mechanism of terror came to an end, the rat came to an end with its head bitten off from its body; the death of the rat had come.
There was no longer any rat.
But Hooligan was faced with the bitten-off death of the rat in the beloved oral cavity of Marysia his love.
And with this he went.
And with this he went.
He tripped, and close behind him skipped
A rat-death.
He leaped, while close behind him stepped
The rat’s death in Marysia’s oral cavity.
A rat-death.
He leaped, while close behind him stepped
The rat’s death in Marysia’s oral cavity.
The Banquet
The meeting of the council ...
the secret meeting of the council ...
was being held in the gloomy, historic portrait hall, whose centuries-old power exceeded even the power of the council, overwhelming it with its magnitude.
The immemorial portraits stared down dully and mutely from the ancient walls on the hieratic faces of the dignitaries, who stared in turn at the dry, ancient figure of the great chancellor and minister of state.
Speaking drily, as he always did, the dry and powerful old man made no attempt to conceal his profound joy, and called on the ministers and undersecretaries of state there present to commemorate the historic moment by rising to their feet.
For after many years of endeavors, the union of the king with Archduchess Renata Adelaide Christina was to come about; and Renata Adelaide had come to the royal court; and tomorrow at a court banquet the betrothed (who up till now had known each other only from portraits) would be introduced
to one another—and this union, splendid in every regard, would intensify and would multiply into infinity the dignity and power of the Crown.
The Crown!
The Crown!
And yet a painful unease, an acute concern, an anxiety even, furrowed the seasoned countenances of the ministers and undersecretaries of state, and something unspoken, something dramatic, lurked in their withered and age-old lips.
the secret meeting of the council ...
was being held in the gloomy, historic portrait hall, whose centuries-old power exceeded even the power of the council, overwhelming it with its magnitude.
The immemorial portraits stared down dully and mutely from the ancient walls on the hieratic faces of the dignitaries, who stared in turn at the dry, ancient figure of the great chancellor and minister of state.
Speaking drily, as he always did, the dry and powerful old man made no attempt to conceal his profound joy, and called on the ministers and undersecretaries of state there present to commemorate the historic moment by rising to their feet.
For after many years of endeavors, the union of the king with Archduchess Renata Adelaide Christina was to come about; and Renata Adelaide had come to the royal court; and tomorrow at a court banquet the betrothed (who up till now had known each other only from portraits) would be introduced
to one another—and this union, splendid in every regard, would intensify and would multiply into infinity the dignity and power of the Crown.
The Crown!
The Crown!
And yet a painful unease, an acute concern, an anxiety even, furrowed the seasoned countenances of the ministers and undersecretaries of state, and something unspoken, something dramatic, lurked in their withered and age-old lips.
At the unanimous motion of the council the chancellor had called for a discussion ...
yet silence, a dull and mute silence, seemed the principal mark of the discussion that ensued.
First to request leave to speak was the minister of internal affairs; but when he was given the floor, he began to be silent, and was silent throughout his speech—after which he sat down.
Next to speak was the minister of the court; but he too, having risen, was silent through all he had to say, after which he sat down.
In the subsequent speeches, one minister after another requested the floor, rose, was silent, then sat down again, and the silence, the obstinate silence of the council—multiplied by the silence of the portraits and the silence of the walls—continually grew in power.
The candles drooped.
The chancellor presided steadfastly over the silence.
Hours passed.
yet silence, a dull and mute silence, seemed the principal mark of the discussion that ensued.
First to request leave to speak was the minister of internal affairs; but when he was given the floor, he began to be silent, and was silent throughout his speech—after which he sat down.
Next to speak was the minister of the court; but he too, having risen, was silent through all he had to say, after which he sat down.
In the subsequent speeches, one minister after another requested the floor, rose, was silent, then sat down again, and the silence, the obstinate silence of the council—multiplied by the silence of the portraits and the silence of the walls—continually grew in power.
The candles drooped.
The chancellor presided steadfastly over the silence.
Hours passed.
What was the cause of the silence?
None of the statesmen could either admit, nor even think, the thought that on the one hand was inescapable and imposed itself with an irresistible force, yet on the other constituted nothing less than a crime of high treason.
That was why they were silent.
How could it be admitted, how could it be said, that the king ...
the king was ...
oh no, never, never in a million years, death was preferable rather ...
that the king ...
oh
no, ah, no, oh no ...
ha ...
that the king was corrupt!
The king was for sale!
The king sold himself!
In his brazen, base, insatiable cupidity the king was a traitor more corrupt than anyone else in history.
A bribe-taker and traitor was the king!
The king would sell his own majesty for pounds and ounces.
None of the statesmen could either admit, nor even think, the thought that on the one hand was inescapable and imposed itself with an irresistible force, yet on the other constituted nothing less than a crime of high treason.
That was why they were silent.
How could it be admitted, how could it be said, that the king ...
the king was ...
oh no, never, never in a million years, death was preferable rather ...
that the king ...
oh
no, ah, no, oh no ...
ha ...
that the king was corrupt!
The king was for sale!
The king sold himself!
In his brazen, base, insatiable cupidity the king was a traitor more corrupt than anyone else in history.
A bribe-taker and traitor was the king!
The king would sell his own majesty for pounds and ounces.
Suddenly the heavily carved doors of the room swung open, and King Slothbert appeared in the uniform of a general of the royal guard, a sword at his side and a large cocked hat on his head.
The ministers bowed low to the ruler, who threw his sword on the table and himself into an armchair and crossed his legs, looking around with his piercing little eyes.
The ministers bowed low to the ruler, who threw his sword on the table and himself into an armchair and crossed his legs, looking around with his piercing little eyes.
By the very presence of the king the council of ministers was transformed into a royal council, and the royal council set about listening to the king’s pronouncement.
In his pronouncement the king above all expressed his joy that his marriage to the archduchess was to come about, and conveyed his steadfast faith and hope that his royal person would win the love of the daughter of kings—yet he also emphasized the burden of responsibility that weighed upon his shoulders.
And there was something so extremely corrupt in the king’s voice that the council shuddered in complete silence.
In his pronouncement the king above all expressed his joy that his marriage to the archduchess was to come about, and conveyed his steadfast faith and hope that his royal person would win the love of the daughter of kings—yet he also emphasized the burden of responsibility that weighed upon his shoulders.
And there was something so extremely corrupt in the king’s voice that the council shuddered in complete silence.
“We cannot hide the fact,” declared the king, “that for us participation in tomorrow’s banquet presents an arduous task ...
for we shall have to exert ourselves mightily to ensure that a favorable impression is made on the archduchess ...
nevertheless, we are prepared to do anything for the good of the Crown, especially if ...
if ...
um ...
um ...”
for we shall have to exert ourselves mightily to ensure that a favorable impression is made on the archduchess ...
nevertheless, we are prepared to do anything for the good of the Crown, especially if ...
if ...
um ...
um ...”
The royal fingers drummed pointedly on the table, and the pronouncement
became ever more confidential.
There could no longer be any doubt.
No less than a
bribe
was being demanded by the bribe-taker in the crown in return for his participation in the banquet.
And all at once the king began to complain that these were hard times, that it wasn’t clear how one could make ends meet ...
after which he giggled ...
he giggled and winked confidentially at the chancellor and minister of state ...
he winked and then giggled again ...
he giggled and poked him in the side with his finger.
became ever more confidential.
There could no longer be any doubt.
No less than a
bribe
was being demanded by the bribe-taker in the crown in return for his participation in the banquet.
And all at once the king began to complain that these were hard times, that it wasn’t clear how one could make ends meet ...
after which he giggled ...
he giggled and winked confidentially at the chancellor and minister of state ...
he winked and then giggled again ...
he giggled and poked him in the side with his finger.
In the most profound and, it seemed, solidified silence the old man gazed at the monarch, who was giggling, winking, and poking him in the side ...
and the old man’s silence swelled with the silence of the portraits and the silence of the walls.
The king’s giggling died away ...
All of a sudden the iron-willed old man bowed before the king, and after him the heads of the ministers were lowered and the knees of the undersecretaries of state all bent.
The power of the council’s bow, rendered unexpectedly in that secluded hall, was terrible.
The bow struck the king right in the chest, stiffened his arms and legs, brought back his royalty—to the extent that poor Slothbert gave an awful moan amid the walls and once again tried to giggle, but the giggle faded on his lips.
In the quiet of the unyielding silence the king began to be afraid ...
and for the longest time he was afraid ...
until finally he began to retreat from the council and from himself, and his back, clad in the general’s uniform, disappeared in the gloom of the corridor.
and the old man’s silence swelled with the silence of the portraits and the silence of the walls.
The king’s giggling died away ...
All of a sudden the iron-willed old man bowed before the king, and after him the heads of the ministers were lowered and the knees of the undersecretaries of state all bent.
The power of the council’s bow, rendered unexpectedly in that secluded hall, was terrible.
The bow struck the king right in the chest, stiffened his arms and legs, brought back his royalty—to the extent that poor Slothbert gave an awful moan amid the walls and once again tried to giggle, but the giggle faded on his lips.
In the quiet of the unyielding silence the king began to be afraid ...
and for the longest time he was afraid ...
until finally he began to retreat from the council and from himself, and his back, clad in the general’s uniform, disappeared in the gloom of the corridor.
And then a monstrous and corrupt cry—“I’ll pay you all back!
I will, I’ll pay you back!”—reached the ears of the council.
I will, I’ll pay you back!”—reached the ears of the council.
Immediately following the king’s departure the chancellor
opened the discussion again, and again silence became the lot of the council.
The chancellor steadfastly presided over the silence.
The ministers rose and sat down again.
Hours passed.
How could the king, enraged by the refusal of a bribe, be prevented from committing some scandal at the banquet; how could the king be protected from Slothbert; and finally, what kind of an impression would this wretched, shameful, and embarrassing king make on the foreign archduchess and daughter of emperors, even if by some miracle a scandal were to be avoided—these were questions which the council could not acknowledge, which it rejected, which it regorged in silent convulsions amid the walls.
The ministers rose and sat down again.
But when, at four in the morning, the council submitted its resignation en masse, the helmsman of the ship of state refused to acknowledge it, and instead uttered these significant words:
opened the discussion again, and again silence became the lot of the council.
The chancellor steadfastly presided over the silence.
The ministers rose and sat down again.
Hours passed.
How could the king, enraged by the refusal of a bribe, be prevented from committing some scandal at the banquet; how could the king be protected from Slothbert; and finally, what kind of an impression would this wretched, shameful, and embarrassing king make on the foreign archduchess and daughter of emperors, even if by some miracle a scandal were to be avoided—these were questions which the council could not acknowledge, which it rejected, which it regorged in silent convulsions amid the walls.
The ministers rose and sat down again.
But when, at four in the morning, the council submitted its resignation en masse, the helmsman of the ship of state refused to acknowledge it, and instead uttered these significant words:
“Gentlemen, the king must be forced upon the king; the king must be imprisoned within the king; we must lock up the king in the king ...”
For it seemed that only by terrorizing the king with the hugely magnified pressure of splendor, history, brilliance, and ceremony, might the Crown be saved from disrepute.
In such a spirit the chancellor issued orders, and because of this the banquet that took place the following day in the hall of mirrors glittered with every splendor, from splendor passed into splendor, from brilliance into brilliance, from glory into glory, resounding like bells in the loftiest and, it seemed, unearthly circles and regions of brilliance.
In such a spirit the chancellor issued orders, and because of this the banquet that took place the following day in the hall of mirrors glittered with every splendor, from splendor passed into splendor, from brilliance into brilliance, from glory into glory, resounding like bells in the loftiest and, it seemed, unearthly circles and regions of brilliance.
The Archduchess Renata, escorted into the hall by the great master of ceremonies and marshal of the court, blinked her eyes,
blinded by the noble and immemorial luster of that archbanquet.
With a discreet power, historically ancient names passed into the hieratic nimbus of the clergy, who in turn passed as if intoxicated into the white of honorable, wilting décolletages, which merged swooningly into the epaulettes of the generals and the sashes of the ambassadors—and the mirrors repeated the splendor into infinity.
The murmur of conversation merged into the scent of perfume.
When King Slothbert entered the hall and blinked, dazzled by the brilliance, a resounding cry of welcome immediately seized him as in a pair of pincers, and the bows of those gathered made it impossible to escape the cry of welcome ...
and the lane of people that formed forced him to move toward the archduchess ...
who, tearing the lace of her robe into shreds, could not believe her eyes.
Could this be the king and her future consort, this vulgar little merchant with the mug of a shop assistant and the devious gaze of a small-time fruit seller and hole-and-corner extortionist?
Yet—how strange—was this little merchant the magnificent king who was approaching between a double row of bows?
When the king took her hand she shuddered with disgust, but at the same moment the thunder of cannon and the pealing of bells drew a sigh of admiration from her bosom.
The chancellor gave a sigh of relief which was multiplied and duplicated by a sigh from the council.
blinded by the noble and immemorial luster of that archbanquet.
With a discreet power, historically ancient names passed into the hieratic nimbus of the clergy, who in turn passed as if intoxicated into the white of honorable, wilting décolletages, which merged swooningly into the epaulettes of the generals and the sashes of the ambassadors—and the mirrors repeated the splendor into infinity.
The murmur of conversation merged into the scent of perfume.
When King Slothbert entered the hall and blinked, dazzled by the brilliance, a resounding cry of welcome immediately seized him as in a pair of pincers, and the bows of those gathered made it impossible to escape the cry of welcome ...
and the lane of people that formed forced him to move toward the archduchess ...
who, tearing the lace of her robe into shreds, could not believe her eyes.
Could this be the king and her future consort, this vulgar little merchant with the mug of a shop assistant and the devious gaze of a small-time fruit seller and hole-and-corner extortionist?
Yet—how strange—was this little merchant the magnificent king who was approaching between a double row of bows?
When the king took her hand she shuddered with disgust, but at the same moment the thunder of cannon and the pealing of bells drew a sigh of admiration from her bosom.
The chancellor gave a sigh of relief which was multiplied and duplicated by a sigh from the council.
Resting his royal, sacred, and metaphysical hand on the pommel of his sword, the king gave his other hand, omnipotent and consecrating, to the archduchess Renata and led her to the banqueting table.
After him the guests led their ladies with a scraping of feet and a glittering of epaulettes and aiguillettes.
After him the guests led their ladies with a scraping of feet and a glittering of epaulettes and aiguillettes.
But what was that?
What was that sound, quiet, diminutive, small, barely audible yet telltale, which reached the ears of the chancellor and the ears of the council?
Were those ears mistaken, or had they indeed heard a sound as if someone from the side ...
as if someone on the side ...
was jingling ...
jingling coins ...
was clinking copper money in his pocket?
What could it be?
The stern, cold gaze of the historic old man passed over those present and finally came to rest on the figure of one of the ambassadors.
Not one muscle twitched on the ambassador’s face; this representative of a hostile country was, with a barely perceptible expression of irony on his narrow lips, leading to the table the Duchess Byzantia, daughter of Marquis Frybert ...
but once again there came the telltale, quiet yet perilous sound ...
and a presentiment of treachery, villainous, base treachery, a presentiment of a lurking, hole-and-corner conspiracy burst into the dramatic and historic soul of the great minister.
Could there be a conspiracy?
Could there be treachery?
What was that sound, quiet, diminutive, small, barely audible yet telltale, which reached the ears of the chancellor and the ears of the council?
Were those ears mistaken, or had they indeed heard a sound as if someone from the side ...
as if someone on the side ...
was jingling ...
jingling coins ...
was clinking copper money in his pocket?
What could it be?
The stern, cold gaze of the historic old man passed over those present and finally came to rest on the figure of one of the ambassadors.
Not one muscle twitched on the ambassador’s face; this representative of a hostile country was, with a barely perceptible expression of irony on his narrow lips, leading to the table the Duchess Byzantia, daughter of Marquis Frybert ...
but once again there came the telltale, quiet yet perilous sound ...
and a presentiment of treachery, villainous, base treachery, a presentiment of a lurking, hole-and-corner conspiracy burst into the dramatic and historic soul of the great minister.
Could there be a conspiracy?
Could there be treachery?
A new fanfare on the trumpets proclaimed the commencement of the feast.
At this irresistible command Slothbert placed his vulgar buttocks on the very edge of the royal stool; the moment he sat, the whole company sat too.
They sat down, sat down, sat down, ministers, generals, clergy, and court.
The king moved his hand toward his fork, took hold of it, and brought a piece of roast to his mouth; and at the same moment the government, the court, the generals, and the clergy brought little pieces of meat to their mouths, and the mirrors repeated this action to infinity.
Afraid, Slothbert stopped eating—but then the whole assembly stopped eating, and the act of not-eating became even more powerful than
the act of eating.
Then, in order to put an end to the not-eating as quickly as possible, Slothbert picked up his goblet and raised it to his lips—and at once everyone picked up their goblets in a resounding, thousand-strong toast that erupted and hung in the air ...
until Slothbert all the more hurriedly put down the goblet.
But then they all put down their goblets.
So the king once again glued his lips to the goblet.
Again a toast erupted.
Slothbert put down his goblet, but seeing that everyone put their goblets down, he picked up his goblet once more—and once more the company, picking up their goblets, raised the king’s mouthful to the heights in a thunder of trumpets, in the brilliance of chandeliers, in the repetitions of the immemorial mirrors.
The king, terrified, took another mouthful.
At this irresistible command Slothbert placed his vulgar buttocks on the very edge of the royal stool; the moment he sat, the whole company sat too.
They sat down, sat down, sat down, ministers, generals, clergy, and court.
The king moved his hand toward his fork, took hold of it, and brought a piece of roast to his mouth; and at the same moment the government, the court, the generals, and the clergy brought little pieces of meat to their mouths, and the mirrors repeated this action to infinity.
Afraid, Slothbert stopped eating—but then the whole assembly stopped eating, and the act of not-eating became even more powerful than
the act of eating.
Then, in order to put an end to the not-eating as quickly as possible, Slothbert picked up his goblet and raised it to his lips—and at once everyone picked up their goblets in a resounding, thousand-strong toast that erupted and hung in the air ...
until Slothbert all the more hurriedly put down the goblet.
But then they all put down their goblets.
So the king once again glued his lips to the goblet.
Again a toast erupted.
Slothbert put down his goblet, but seeing that everyone put their goblets down, he picked up his goblet once more—and once more the company, picking up their goblets, raised the king’s mouthful to the heights in a thunder of trumpets, in the brilliance of chandeliers, in the repetitions of the immemorial mirrors.
The king, terrified, took another mouthful.
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