When they arrived in the market-place, they were surprised by a new and extraordinary spectacle. This resort was the true school for physiognomists. Every one there could single out his man, lay his visage upon the balance, and weigh out the powers of his mind. Some stood gazing at horses, a.s.ses, goats, swine, dogs, and sheep. Others held between their fingers spiders, b.u.t.terflies, gra.s.shoppers, and other insects, and endeavoured to ascertain what their instinct might be from an attentive survey of their exterior. Some were employed in judging, from the weight of jaw-bones or the sharpness of teeth, to what animals they belonged. But when Faustus and the Devil advanced among them, each man desisted from his occupation, and began to cry out, "What a nose!

what eyes! what a searching glance! what a soft and beautiful curve of the chin! what strength! what intuition! what penetration! what a cleanly-made figure! what a vigorous and majestic gait! what strength of limb! how uniform and harmonious is his whole frame!" "I would give I know not what for the autographs of the gentlemen," said a weaver, "in order that I might judge, by their handwriting, of the quickness of their thoughts." The Devil happening to knit his brows from impatience of this folly, one of the physiognomists instantly said, "The internal force of the lion, which the gentleman possesses, has been aroused by some external provocation, or some trifling thought."

Faustus was laughing at all this, when suddenly a beautiful female looked down upon him from a window, and cried, in sweet amazement: "Holy Catherine! what a n.o.ble head! what soft and angelic pensiveness in the eyes! what a sweet and lovely physiognomy!" These melodious words sunk into the heart of Faustus. He looked up to the window: her eyes met his for a moment ere she drew herself back. Faustus whispered to the Devil: "I will not quit this town till I have possessed that maiden: what voluptuousness beams in her eyes!" They had scarcely entered a side street, when one of the physiognomists came up and asked them very civilly for "the physiognomy of their writing," a.s.suring them that no stranger had hitherto refused him this favour, and he hoped and trusted that they would not. He thereupon pulled out his alb.u.m, and offered it to Faustus, at the same time producing pen and ink.

_Faustus_. Not so fast, my friend; one good turn deserves another. Tell me, first, who the maiden is that I this moment saw at the window of yonder house, and whose countenance is so celestial.

_Physiognomist_. Ah! she is an angel in every sense of the word. Our ill.u.s.trious master has often a.s.sured us, that her eyes are the very mirrors of chast.i.ty, her lovely mouth only formed to express the inspiration of a heart filled with heavenly ideas; that her brow is the polished shield of virtue, against which all temptations, all earthly sin, will be shivered; that her nose snuffs the odours of the fields of bliss; and that she is the most perfect cast of ideal beauty ever yet permitted to appear in the world.

_Faustus_. Truly, you have depicted her to me with more than earthly colours; and now tell me her situation in life, and her name.

_Physiognomist_. She is the daughter of a physician; but her father and mother being lately dead, she lives by herself on her own property. Her name is Angelica.

They then wrote some nonsensical lines in his alb.u.m, and the physiognomist departed, delighted with his treasure.

_Faustus_. Now tell me, Devil, how this child of grace is to be come at.

I am just inclined to see this monk's ideal beauty.

_Devil_. By the high road to the human heart you will certainly meet her; for sooner or later all must fall in with it, however far their fancies may have caused them to stray from it.

_Faustus_. What a delightful enjoyment it would be to fill so exalted an imagination as hers with images of pleasure!

_Devil_. The monk has already had the start of you, and has so sharpened her feelings, and filled her little soul with so much vanity and self-conceit, and made her piety so carnal, that you have nothing else to do than give one audible tap at the gate of her heart, in order to be admitted. Let us now see to what lengths such delusions will lead a young woman.

_Faustus_. And let it be done quickly.

The Devil was perfectly willing to steal so pure a soul from heaven, and thereby to consummate more speedily the measure of Faustus's sins. He suddenly stood in the shape of an old man with a peep-show, and, giving Faustus the wink, he hurried away into the market-place. He raised his voice, and invited the people to come and see his peep-show. The populace flocked around him,--footmen and chambermaids, wives and widows, boys and graybeards. The Devil showed them all kinds of scenes, which he accompanied with pious explanations and moral sayings. Each person stepped back delighted from the peep-show, and charmed the bystanders with the recital of the wonders he had witnessed. The beautiful Angelica now looked out of her window; and, hearing the Devil descant in so pious a tone, she felt an irresistible desire to see the wonders of his box, and to bestow alms upon the devout old showman. The Devil was sent for.

Even he was struck by her wondrous beauty, her gentle manners, and her ingenuousness; but he became only so much the more desirous to confuse her senses and entrap her. She placed her enthusiastic eye to the window of the box. The Devil preluded with a few proverbs and wise saws, and unfolded to her view scenes of love, in which he led her fancy so adroitly from the spiritual to the carnal, that she was scarcely aware of the gradation. If she were about to turn away her eyes with shame, the offensive object changed itself at once into a sublime image, which again attracted her attention. Her cheeks glowed, and she believed herself gazing upon an unknown and enchanted world. The artful Devil caused the figure of Faustus to appear in all these scenes. She saw him pursuing a shadow which resembled her own, and undertaking for its sake the greatest actions, and exposing himself to dangers of every description. When the Devil had completely chained her attention, and perceived that she was highly curious to know wherefore the figure of Faustus was thus a.s.sociated with her own, he changed the scene, and represented the parties in situations not to be misconstrued. Lightning does not so quickly glance through the darkness as did these scenes flit before the eyes of the innocent maiden; a moment is an age in comparison, and the poison was glowing in her breast before she was able to retreat. She started back, and, with her hands before her eyes, rushed into her chamber, and sunk senseless into the arms of Faustus. When she became aware of her fall, she hid her face and repulsed the miscreant. He laid costly jewels at her feet; but she spurned them, and cried, "Tremble, thou wretch! the hand of the Avenger will one day fall heavily upon thee for this crime."

The insensate Faustus rejoiced at his victory; and went, without the least feeling of repentance, to the Devil, who laughed at the affair, and yet more fiendishly when he thought of its terrific consequences.

Faustus found himself here in his element. He flew from conquest to conquest, and made very little use of the power of the Devil, but a great deal of his gold, which has some influence even over devout minds.

Angelica became invisible, and all the endeavours of Faustus to see her once more were of no avail; but he soon forgot her in the tumult of his pleasures. Reading by chance some of the ma.n.u.script publications of the monk, he was irritated by the self-conceit and ignorance of the author.

He proposed to the Devil to play him a trick, and with that intention they both went to the convent. As they were exceedingly well dressed, and appeared to be persons of distinction, they were received by the young monk in the most cordial and friendly manner. His eyes had scarcely met those of the Devil when he became so agitated by his physiognomy, that, forgetting all the forms of politeness, he shook him violently by the hand; and going to some distance, he looked at him first full in the face, and then in the profile. He then cried out:

"Ha! who art thou, most mighty one? Yes; you can do what you like; and what you wish you can also do: your physiognomy tells me this; therefore it is not necessary for me to know you. Never have I been more perfectly convinced of the truth of my science than at this moment. Who can behold such a human visage without interest, without admiration? Who cannot perceive in that nose, original greatness; in that eye, penetration, strength, and expression?"

He felt his forehead, and then continued:

"Permit me, with my measure, to ascertain the height of your brow? Yes; I see unshaken courage in that forehead, as clearly as I do steadfast friendship, fidelity, love of G.o.d and man, in those lips. What a n.o.bleness in the whole! Thy face is the physiognomy of an extraordinary man, who thinks deeply, who holds fast to whatever he undertakes, works, flies, triumphs, finds few men in whom he will confide, but many who will rely on him.

"Ah! if a common mortal had such a brow, such a mouth, such a nose, or even such hair, what would become of physiognomy?

"Perhaps there is not a man existing whom thy countenance would not by turns attract and repel. What infantine simplicity! What heroic grandeur! Few mortals can be so well known and so little known as yourself.

"Eagle, lion, destroyer, reformer of mankind, move on, move on, and reclaim men from their blindness; share with them the intellectual strength which nature has given thee; and announce thyself to all as I have just announced thee to thyself."

Faustus craunched his teeth while the monk was saying all these n.o.ble things about the countenance of the Devil, who turning coolly to the physiognomist, said,

"And what is thy opinion of that gentleman? Tell me what he is."

_Monk_. Great, bold, mighty, powerful, soft, and mild; but thou, his companion, art greater, bolder, mightier, more powerful, more soft, more mild.

Then looking at Faustus, he exclaimed:

"Mighty pupil of a mightier man, if thy spirit and thy heart could entirely catch his greatness, thou wouldst still be merely reflecting the rays of his glory. But seat thyself, and let me take thy shadow."

Faustus, more and more enraged to see how infinitely the monk rated him below the Devil, now burst forth:

"Shadows! yes, indeed, shadows only hast thou seen. How darest thou thus judge and measure the human race? Hast thou seen men? Where, and how?

Thou hast merely seen their shadows, which thou adornest with the tinsel of thy crazed imagination, and givest them out as the true forms. Tell me what kind of human beings thou hast seen. Were they not sectaries, fanatics, visionaries, the very offscourings of human nature? Were they not vain devotees, young wives who have cold husbands, and widows who have sleepless nights? Were they not authors eager to have every mark and pimple on their insignificant features turned into a sign and prognostication of genius? Were they not grandees, whose brilliant stations rendered their physiognomies imposing to thine eye? Thou seest that I know thy customers, and have read thy book."

_Devil_. Bravo, Faustus! Let me now put in a word, and tell his reverence a few mortifying truths. Brother monk, thou hast formed in thy solitary cell a phantom of perfection, and wouldst fain thrust that into people's heads, which, when there, poisons the brain, as the gangrene corrupts all the flesh around it. There were men long ago who ventured to judge of the innermost of their fellow-creatures from the outside; but there was some difference between them and thee. They had travelled over a considerable part of the earth; experience had made them gray; they had lived and conversed with men, visited all the lurking holes of vice and iniquity, roved from the palace to the cot, crept into the caves of savages, and thus knew what belonged to a well-organised man, and what he could do with his faculties. But shalt thou--swollen with prejudices, pent up in a convent like a toad in the trunk of an oak--pretend to have a clear idea of that which even they barely understood?

The monk stood between the two speakers as between two volcanoes in eruption; he crossed his hands humbly upon his breast, and cried, "Have mercy!"

The Devil continued:

"Among the many impudent follies which I observed in thy book was an attempt to draw the Devil's portrait. It is now high time for him to appear to thee, in order that thou mayst correct the likeness. Look at me; and for once thou shalt be able to say thou hast seen an object in its proper form."

The Devil then appeared to him in the most frightful of infernal figures; but he rolled a thick mist before the eyes of Faustus, in order that he might not blast his sight. The monk fell to the earth; and the Devil, resuming all his former comeliness, exclaimed:

"Now thou mayst paint the Devil in his proper colours, provided thou hast strength. Thou wouldst often be thus overcome, if thou didst in reality see the innermost of those whom thou makest angels."

_Faustus_. Persist in thy folly; communicate it to others; and by thy extravagances render religion repulsive to reasonable people. Thou canst not farther more efficaciously the interests of the enemy. Farewell!

The monk had lost his senses through terror; but he still continued writing notwithstanding his madness; and his readers never once perceived his derangement, so much did his new books resemble his old ones.

Faustus was delighted with this adventure; but becoming weary of the town, he quitted it the next morning with the Devil, and took the road to France.

CHAPTER IV.

When Faustus and the Devil entered upon the fertile soil of France, it was groaning beneath the oppression of that cruel and cowardly tyrant Louis the Eleventh, who was the first that ever styled himself "the most Christian king." The Devil had determined not to give Faustus the slightest information beforehand concerning this prince. He had resolved to drive him to despair, and then overwhelm him with the most frightful blow a mortal can receive who has rebelliously transgressed the bounds which a powerful hand has drawn around him.

The Devil had learnt from one of his spies that the most Christian king was meditating a masterpiece of state policy; or, in other words, was on the point of getting rid of his brother, the Duke de Berry, in order that a province which had been granted to him might revert to the crown. The malicious fiend resolved to make Faustus a spectator of this horrid scene. They rode through a wood of oaks contiguous to a castle, and saw among the trees a Benedictine monk, who seemed to be telling his rosary.

The Devil rejoiced inwardly at this sight; for he read upon the countenance of the monk that he was imploring the Mother of G.o.d to a.s.sist him in the great enterprise which his abbot had intrusted him with, and likewise to save him from all danger. This monk was Faber Vesois, confessor of the king's brother. The Devil did not disturb him in his pious meditations, but went on to the castle with Faustus. They were received with all the respect generally shown to persons of distinction who come to visit a prince. The duke pa.s.sed his days here in the company of his beloved Monserau, thinking of no harm, and expecting no misfortune. His agreeable manners soon gained him the good-will of Faustus, who was delighted to see a scion of royalty think and act like a man; for he had been accustomed to see among the German princes nothing but pride, coldness, and that foolish ceremony which is only intended to make visitors appear contemptible in their own eyes. Some days were very pleasantly spent in hunting and other amus.e.m.e.nts, and the prince gained more and more upon the heart of Faustus. The only thing that displeased him in the prince was the weakness he displayed in regard to his confessor, the Benedictine. He loaded him with so much tenderness, and submitted with so much complaisance to his will, and the monk always looked so studiously devout, that Faustus could not conceive how a man so frank himself could prize such a hypocrite. The Devil, however, soon let him into the secret by informing him of the duke's connexion with Monserau. His love for this fair lady was equalled by his fear of h.e.l.l; and, Madame de Monserau having a husband still living, he was not altogether easy in respect to his amours with her. As he neither wished to renounce her nor expose himself to eternal punishment, he greedily caught at the baits which the monks hang out in order to make themselves masters of the minds of men; and when the dread of h.e.l.l tormented him too much, he allayed his fears by receiving absolution for his sins; while he thought it impossible for him to be too grateful to a man who encouraged him to enjoy the present, and tranquillised him in respect to the future.

"Thou seest, O Faustus," said the Devil, "what men have made of religion.

Its abuse has often been a.s.sociated with crimes and horrors, but is nevertheless used by the wicked to cajole and appease their rebellious consciences."

The conduct of the prince in this respect did him little honour in the opinion of Faustus, who had long ago parted with his own conscience, and this last remark of the Devil's operated strongly upon his mind; however, he permitted things to go on in their own way, and chiefly thought of pa.s.sing his time pleasantly.

They were one evening at table in excellent humour; the Devil was diverting the company with his pleasant stories, and Faustus was employed in saying soft things to a pretty French widow, who listened to him very complaisantly; when all of a sudden, Death, in his most frightful shape, came to disturb the festival. The Benedictine caused a basket of extraordinarily large peaches, which he had just received as a present, to be brought in at dessert; and, selecting one of the finest, he offered it to the prince with a smiling and benignant air. The prince divided it with his beloved, and both ate of the peach without the slightest suspicion. They then rose from table; the monk gave his benediction to all, and hurried away. The Devil was about to commence a new story, when Madame de Monserau uttered a loud shriek. Her lovely features were distorted, her lips became blue, and the paleness of death covered her countenance. The prince rushed to her a.s.sistance; but the terrible poison began likewise to operate upon him; he fell at her feet, and cried, "Listen, O Heaven: my brother, my cruel brother, has a.s.sa.s.sinated me by the hand of that monster. He who caused his father to die of hunger in order to avoid being poisoned, has now bribed the minister of religion to poison me."

Faustus ran out of the room to seize the confessor, but he had fled; a troop of horse were waiting for him in the forest, and accompanied him in his flight. Faustus returned; but Death had seized his victims, and they had ceased to struggle with him. Faustus and the fiend instantly quitted the place.

_Devil_. Well, Faustus, what think you of the deed committed by the Benedictine in the name of the most Christian king?