The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [271]
They walked for some time in silence towards the wilder side of the park. From time to time, a window of the palace appeared between the old trees, gleaming with red flames of sunset.
‘Was it your first visit to Paris?’ Izabela asked.
‘Yes…’
‘It’s a marvellous city, isn’t it?’ she exclaimed, suddenly looking into his eyes. ‘Let people say what they choose, but Paris — even conquered — is still the centre of the world. Did it give you that impression?’
‘It was very impressive. After a few weeks there I seemed to gain strength and energy. Not until I went to Paris did I really learn to be proud of the fact that I work for a living.’
‘Pray explain…’
‘It’s very simple. Here, human labour produces poor results: we’re a poor and neglected country. But there, work illuminates like the sun. The buildings, covered from roof to pavement in ornaments like valuable caskets … And those forests of pictures and statues, whole regions of machinery, and that chaos of factory and craftsmen’s products! In Paris I realised that man only seems to be a frail, weak being. In reality, man is a creature of genius and an immortal giant, who can erect cliffs with as much ease as he creates from them something more delicate than lace.’
‘Yes,’ Izabela replied, ‘the French aristocracy had the opportunity and the time to create masterpieces.’
‘The aristocracy?’ asked Wokulski.
Izabela came to a halt in the alley: ‘Surely you don’t want to claim that the galleries of the Louvre were created by the Convention or by manufacturers of Parisian haberdashery?’
‘Of course not, but the magnates didn’t create them either. They’re the collective work of French builders, bricklayers, painters and sculptors from all over the world, who have nothing in common with the aristocracy. To crown idlers with the benefits and work of men of genius, or even only working men — that’s capital!’
‘Idlers and aristocracy?’ cried Izabela. ‘I think that phrase is more forceful than just.’
‘May I ask you a question?’ Wokulski inquired.
‘Pray do …’
‘First, I withdraw the word “idlers”, if it offends you, but then … Pray show me a man in the sphere we are speaking of who has done something? I know some two hundred of these men, and they’re acquaintances of yours too. And what do they all do, from the Prince — the most excellent person in the world — though in his case, it may be explained by his age, down to … well, even Mr Starski, who can’t justify his everlasting holidays by possessing a fortune.’
‘My young cousin? He has surely never tried to serve as an example of anything. Besides, we aren’t talking about our aristocracy, but about the French.’
‘And what do they do?’
‘Oh, Mr Wokulski, they have done a great deal. In the first place, they created France, they were her knights, her leaders, ministers and priests. Finally, they collected the art treasures you admire so.’
‘Please tell me, now — they gave a great many orders, and spent a great deal of money, but someone else created both France and the art. They were created by poorly paid soldiers and sailors, by farmers and craftsmen burdened by taxation, and finally by artists and scholars. I’m an experienced man, I assure you it’s easier to plan than to execute, and easier to spend money than to make it.’
‘You’re an irreconcilable foe of the aristocracy.’
‘No, madam, I cannot be an enemy of those who do me no harm. But I think they occupy privileged places without earning the right to them, and that they preach contempt for work in society, and admiration for idle extravagance to maintain their own places.’
‘You’re prejudiced, since even this idle aristocracy — as you call it — plays an important part in the world. What you call extravagance is really comfort, pleasure and polish, which the lower orders learn from the aristocracy, and so grow civilised themselves. I have heard from very liberal people that there must be classes in society that cultivate science, art and refined manners — first, so that others may take living