Personal Recollections of Joan by Mark Twain

The Paladin was gone only a couple of minutes; he found out at

once that a trick had been played on him, so he came back. When

he approached the door he heard No‰l ranting in there and

recognized the state of the case; so he remained near the door but

out of sight, and heard the performance through to the end. The

applause No‰l got when he finished was wonderful; and they kept

it up and kept it up, clapping their hands like mad, and shouting to

him to do it over again.

But No‰l was clever. He knew the very best background for a

poem of deep and refined sentiment and pathetic melancholy was

one where great and satisfying merriment had prepared the spirit

for the powerful contrast.

So he paused until all was quiet, then his face grew grave and

assumed an impressive aspect, and at once all faces sobered in

sympathy and took on a look of wondering and expectant interest.

Now he began in a low but distinct voice the opening verses of

The Rose. As he breathed the rhythmic measures forth, and one

gracious line after another fell upon those enchanted ears in that

deep hush, one could catch, on every hand, half-audible

ejaculations of “How lovely–how beautiful–how exquisite!”

By this time the Paladin, who had gone away for a moment with

the opening of the poem, was back again, and had stepped within

the door. He stood there now, resting his great frame against the

wall and gazing toward the reciter like one entranced. When No‰l

got to the second part, and that heart-breaking refrain began to

melt and move all listeners, the Paladin began to wipe away tears

with the back of first one hand and then the other. The next time

the refrain was repe3ated he got to snuffling, and sort of half

sobbing, and went to wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his

doublet. He was so conspicuous that he embarrassed No‰l a little,

and also had an ill effect upon the audience. With the next

repetition he broke quite down and began to cry like a calf, which

ruined all the effect and started many to the audience to laughing.

Then he went on from bad to worse, until I never saw such a

spectacle; for he fetched out a towel from under his doublet and

began to swab his eyes with it and let go the most infernal

bellowings mixed up with sobbings and groanings and retchings

and barkings and coughings and snortings and screamings and

howlings–and he tdwisted himself about on his heels and

squirmed this way and that, still pouring out that brutal clamor and

flourishing his towel in the air and swabbing again and wringing it

out. Hear? You couldn’t hear yourself think. No‰l was wholly

drowned out and silenced, and those people were laughing the very

lungs out of themselves. It was the most degrading sight that ever

was. Now I heard the clankety-clank that plate-armor makes when

the man that is in it is running, and then alongside my head there

burst out the most inhuman explosion of laughter that ever rent the

drum of a person’s ear, and I looked, and it was La Hire; and the

stood there with his gauntlets on his hips and his head tilted back

and his jaws spread to that degree to let out his hurricanes and his

thunders that it amounted to indecent exposure, for you could see

everything that was in him. Only one thing more and worse could

happen, and it happened: at the other door I saw the flurry and

bustle and bowings and scrapings of officials and flunkeys which

means that some great personage is coming–then Joan of Arc

stepped in, and the house rose! Yes, and tried to shut its

indecorous mouth and make itself grave and proper; but when it

saw the Maid herself go to laughing, it thanked God for this mercy

and the earthquake that followed.

Such things make a life of bitterness, and I do not wish to dwell

upon them. The effect of the poem was spoiled.

Chapter 16 The Finding of the Dwarf

THIS EPISODE disagreed with me and I was not able to leave my

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