III
How He Became a Stage Player and Got Himself a New Name
Now as Monsieur Canard had more game to throw away than many have to eat, which yet have their own preserves, and thus more meat was sent to him by way of present than he and all his people could eat, so had he also daily many parasites, so that it seemed as if he kept open house. And once on a time there visited him the king’s Master of the Ceremonies and other high personages, for whom he prepared a princely collation, as knowing well whom he needed to keep as his friends, namely, those that were ever about the king or stood well with him: and to show them his great goodwill and give them every pleasure, he begged that I would, to honour him and to please the high personages present, let them hear a German song sung to the lute. This I did willingly, being in the mood (for commonly musicians be whimsical people), and so busied myself to play my best, and did so please the company that the Master of the Ceremonies said ’twas great pity I could not speak French: for so could he commend me greatly to the king and queen. But my master, that feared lest I might be taken from his service, answered him, I was of noble birth and thought not to sojourn long in France, and so could hardly be used as a common musician. Thereupon the Master of the Ceremonies said he had never in his life found united in one person such rare beauty, so fine a voice, and such admirable skill upon the lute: and presently, said he, a comedy was to be played before the king at the Louvre: and could he but have my services, he hoped to get great honour thereby. This Monsieur Canard did interpret to me: and I answered, if they would but tell me what person I was to represent and what manner of songs I was to sing, I could learn both tune and words by heart and sing them to my lute, even if they were in the French tongue: for perhaps my understanding might be as good as that of a schoolboy such as they commonly use for such parts, though these must first learn both words and actions by heart.
So when the Master of the Ceremonies saw me so willing, he would have me promise to come to him next day in the Louvre to try if I was fit for the part: and at the time appointed I was there. The tunes of the songs I had to sing I could play at once perfectly upon the lute; for I had the notes before me: and thereafter I received the French words, to learn them by heart and likewise to pronounce them, all which were interpreted for me in German, that I might use the actions fitted to the songs. All this was easy enough to me, and I was ready before any could have expected it, and that so perfectly (as Monsieur Canard declared) that ninety-nine out of a hundred that heard me sing would have sworn I was a born Frenchman. And when we came together for the first rehearsal, I did behave myself so plaintively with my songs, tunes, and actions that all believed I had often played the part of Orpheus, which I must then represent, and show myself vexed for the loss of my Eurydice. And in all my life I have never had so pleasant a day as that on which our comedy was played. Monsieur Canard gave me somewhat to make my voice clearer: but when he tried to improve my beauty with oleum talci and to powder my curly hair that shone so black he found he did but spoil all. So now was I crowned with a wreath of laurel and clad in an antique sea-green robe in which all could see my neck, the upper part of my breast, my arms above the elbow and my knees, all bare and naked. About it was wrapped a flesh-coloured cloak of taffety that was more like a flag than a cloak: and in this attire I languished over my Eurydice, called on Venus for help in a pretty song, and at last led off my bride: in all which action I did play my part excellently, and gazed upon my love with sighs and speaking eyes. But when I had lost my Eurydice, then did I put on a dress of black throughout, made like the other, from out of which my white skin shone like snow. In this did I lament my lost wife, and did conjure up the case so piteously that in the midst of my sad tunes and melodies the tears would burst forth and my weeping choked the passage of my song: yet did I play my part right well till I came before Pluto and Proserpina in hell. To them I represented in a most moving song their own love that they bore to each other, and begged them to judge thereby with what great grief I and my Eurydice must have parted, and prayed with the most piteous actions (and all the time I sang to my lute) they would give her leave to return to me: and when they had said me “Yes,” I took my leave with a joyful song to them, and was clever enough so to change my face, my actions, and my voice to a joyful tune that all that saw me were astonished. But when I again lost my Eurydice all unexpectedly I did fancy to myself the greatest danger wherein a man could find himself, and thereupon became so pale as if I would faint away: for inasmuch as I was then alone upon the stage and all spectators looked on me, I played my part the more carefully and got therefrom the praise of having acted the best. Thereafter I set me on a rock and began to deplore the loss of my bride with piteous words and a most mournful melody, and to summon all creatures to weep with me: upon that, all manner of wild beasts and tame, mountains, trees, and the like flocked round me, so that in truth it seemed as if ’twere all so done in unnatural fashion by enchantment. Nor did I make any mistake at all till the end: but then when I had renounced the company of all women, had been murdered by the Bacchantes and cast into the water (which had been so prepared that one could see only my head, for the rest of my body was beneath the stage in perfect safety), where the dragon was to devour me, and the fellow that was inside the dragon to work it could not see my head and so did let the dragon’s head wag about close to mine, this seemed to me so laughable that I could not choose but make a wry face, which the ladies that looked hard upon me failed not to perceive.
From this comedy I earned, besides the high praise that all gave me, not only an excellent reward, but I got me yet another nickname, for thenceforth the French would call me naught but “Beau Alman.” And as ’twas then carnival-time, many such plays and ballets were represented, in all which I was employed: but at last I found I was envied by others because I mightily attracted the spectators, and in especial the women, to turn their eyes on me: so I made an end of it, and that particularly because I received much offence on one occasion, when, as I fought with Achelous for Dejanira, as Hercules, and almost naked, I was so grossly treated as is not usual in a stage-play.
By this means I became known to many high personages, and it seemed as if fortune would again shine upon me: for ’twas even offered me to enter the king’s service, of which many a great Jack hath not the chance: yet I refused: but much time I spent with ladies of quality that would have me sing and play to them, for both my person and my playing pleased them. Nor will I deny that I gave myself up to the temptations of the Frenchwomen, that entertained me secretly and rewarded me with many gifts for my services, till in the end I was wearied of so vile and shameful a trade, and determined so to play the fool no longer.
Note.—The fourth and fifth chapters of the original edition are devoted to a prolix and tedious account of an adventure—if adventure it may be called—of the kind hinted at in the last sentence of the third chapter. It is absolutely without connection with Simplicissimus’s career as an actor in the war; has no interest as a picture of manners; and finally, can be read much better in Bandello, from whose much livelier story (vol. IV, novel 25, of the complete editions) it is copied. It is therefore omitted here.