Satan’s Diary, Leonid Andreyev [the beginning after the end read novel .TXT] 📗

“You need not feel ashamed, Mr. Wondergood: one should fear death. As long as there is death.⁠ ⁠…”

The features of the monkey’s face suddenly contracted and in his eyes there appeared horror and wrath: as if someone had seized him by the back of his neck and thrust him into the darkness and terror of a primeval forest. He feared death and his terror was dark, evil and boundless. I needed no words of explanation and no other evidence: One look upon this distorted, befogged and confused human face was sufficient to compel reverence for the Great Irrational! And how weak is their steadiness: My Wondergood also grew pale and cringed⁠ ⁠… ah, the rogue! He was now seeking protection and help from Me!

“Will you have some wine, Your Eminence?”

But His Eminence was himself again. He curved his thin lips into a smile and shook his head in the negative. And suddenly he broke out again with surprising fury:

“And as long as there is death, the Church is unshakable! Let all of you who seek to undermine her, tear her, and blow her up⁠—you cannot conquer her. And even if you should succeed in destroying her, the first to perish beneath her ruins would be yourselves. Who will then defend you against death? Who will give you sweet faith in immortality, in eternal life, in everlasting bliss?⁠ ⁠… Believe me, Mr. Wondergood, the world is not seeking your ratio. It is all a misunderstanding!”

“But what does it seek, Your Eminence?”

“What does it want? Mundus vult decipi⁠ ⁠… you know our Latin? the world wants to be fooled!”

And the old monkey again grew merry, begun to wink, to beam with satisfaction, slapped his knee and burst into laughter. I also laughed. The rascal was so funny!

“And is it you,” said I, “who wants to fool it?”

The Cardinal again grew serious and replied sadly:

“The Holy See needs funds, Mr. Wondergood. The world, while it has not grown rational, has become weaker in its faith and it is somewhat difficult to manage it.”

He signed and continued:

“You are not a Socialist, Mr. Wondergood? Ah, do not be ashamed. We are all Socialists now. We are all on the side of the hungry: the more satisfied they will be, the more they will fear death. You understand?”

He flung out his arms and drew them in again, like a net filled with fish and said:

“We are fishermen, Mr. Wondergood, humble fishermen!⁠ ⁠… And tell me: do you regard the desire for liberty as a virtue or a vice?”

“The entire civilized world regards the desire for liberty as a virtue,” I replied angrily.

“I expected no other reply from a citizen of the United States. But don’t you personally believe that he who will give man limitless freedom will also bring him death? Death alone releases all earthly ties. And don’t you regard the words ‘freedom’ and ‘death’ as synonymous?”

“I speak of political liberty.”

“Of political liberty? Oh, we have no objection to that. You can have as much as you please of that! Of course, provided men themselves ask for it. Are you sure they really want it? If they do, please help yourself! It is all nonsense and calumny to say that the Holy See is in favor of reaction.⁠ ⁠… I had the honor to be present on the balcony of the Vatican when His Holiness blessed the first French aëroplane that appeared over Rome, and the next Pope, I am sure, will gladly bless the barricades. The time of Galileo has passed, Mr. Wondergood, and we all know now that the earth does move!”

He drew a circle in the air with his finger, indicating the revolution of the earth.

I said:

“You must permit me to think over your proposal, Your Eminence.”

Cardinal X. jumped up from his chair and gently touched my shoulder with two of his aristocratic fingers:

“Oh, I am not hurrying you, my good Mr. Wondergood. It was you who were hurrying me. I am even convinced that you will at first refuse me, but when, after some little experience, you will have realized the real needs of man.⁠ ⁠… I, too, love man, Mr. Wondergood, to be sure, not so passionately and.⁠ ⁠…”

He departed with the same grimaces, bearing himself with dignity and dispensing blessings all about him. I saw him again through the window at the entrance of the palace, while the coachman was bringing up the carriage: he was speaking into the ear of one of his abbés, whose face resembled a black plate. The Cardinal’s countenance no longer reminded me of a monkey: it was rather the face of a shaven, hungry, tired lion. This able actor needed no dressing room for his makeup! Behind him stood a tall lackey, all dressed in black, reminding one of an English baronet. Whenever His Eminence turned about in his direction, he would respectfully lift his faded silk hat.

Following the departure of His Eminence I was surrounded by a merry group of friends, with whom I had filled the spare rooms of my palace for the purpose of alleviating my loneliness and ennui. Toppi looked proud and happy: he was so satiated with blessings that he fairly bulged. The artists, decorators and others⁠—whatever you call them⁠—were greatly impressed by the Cardinal’s visit, and spoke with much glee of the remarkable expression of his face and the grandeur of his manner! The Pope himself.⁠ ⁠… But when I remarked with the naivete of a Redskin that he reminded me of a monkey, the shrewd canailles burst into loud laughter and one of them immediately sketched a portrait of Cardinal X.⁠—in a cage. I am not a moralist to judge other people for their petty sins: they will get what is due them on their Judgment Day⁠—and I was much pleased by the cleverness of the laughing beasts. They do not appear to have much faith in love for one’s fellow beings and if I should rummage about among their drawings, I would probably find a pretty good sketch of the ass Wondergood. I like that. I find relief