The Devil - Guy de Maupassant

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
The devil. The peasant and the doctor stood on opposite
sides of the bed beside the old dying woman. She
was calm and resigned, and her mind quite clear as
she looked at them and listened to their conversation. She
was going to die, and she did not revel at it,

(00:20):
for her time was come. She was ninety two. The
July sun streamed in at the window and the open door,
and cast its hot flames on the uneven brown clay floor,
which had been stamped down by four generations of clod hoppers.
The smell of the fields came in, also, driven by

(00:40):
the sharp wind and parched by the noontide heat. The
grasshoppers chirped themselves hoarse and filled the country with their
shrill noise, which was like that of the wooden toys
which are sold to children at fair time. The doctor
raised his voice and said, on all, you cannot leave
your mother in this state. She may die at any moment.

(01:04):
And the peasant, in great distress, replied, but I must
get in my wheat, for it has been lying on
the ground a long time, and the weather is just
right for it. What do you say about it? Mother?
And the dying old woman, still tormented by her norman avariciousness,
replied yes with her eyes and her forehead, and thus

(01:26):
urged her son to get in his wheat and to
leave her to die alone. But the doctor got angry,
and stamping his foot, he said, you are no better
than a brute, do you hear? And I will not
allow you to do it. Do you understand? And if
you must get in your wheat to day, go and
fetch a Rapae's wife and make her look after your mother,

(01:48):
I will have it. Do you understand me? And if
you do not obey me, I will let you die
like a dog when you are ill in your turn?
Do you hear? The peasant, a tall, thin fellow with
slow movements, who was tormented by indecision, by his fear
of the doctor and his fierce love of saving, hesitated,

(02:10):
calculated and stammered out, how much does Larapey charge for
attending sick people? How should I know? The doctor cried,
that depends on how long she is needed. Settle it
with her by heaven. But I want her to be
here within an hour? Do you hear? So the man decided,

(02:32):
I will go for her. He replied, don't get angry doctor,
and the latter left, calling out as he went, be careful,
be very careful, you know, for I do not joke
when I am angry. As soon as they were alone,
the peasant turned to his mother and said, in a
resigned voice, I will go and fetch Larapey as the

(02:54):
man will have it. Don't worry till I get back,
And he went out in his turn. Larape who, as
an old washerwoman, watched the dead and the dying of
the neighborhood. And then, as soon as she had sown
her customers into that linen cloth from which they would
emerge no more, she went and took up her iron

(03:14):
to smooth out the linen of the living, wrinkled like
a last year's apple, spiteful, envious, avaricious, with a phenomenal avarice,
bent double as if she had been broken in half
across the loins by the constant motion of passing the
iron over the linen, one might have said that she
had a kind of abnormal and cynical love of a

(03:35):
death struggle. She never spoke of anything but of the
people she had seen die, of the various kinds of
debts at which she had been present and she related
with the greatest minuteness details which were always similar, just
as a sportsman recounts his luck. When annld Bonton entered
her cottage, he found her preparing the starch for the

(03:57):
collars of the women villagers, and he said, good evening.
I hope you are pretty well, mother a pey. She
turned her head round to look at him and said,
as usual as usual, and you oh asked for me.
I am as well as I could wish. But my
mother is not well. Your mother, yes, my mother? What

(04:21):
is the matter with her? She is going to turn
up her toes, That's what's the matter with her. The
old woman took her hands out of the water and asked,
with sudden sympathy, is she as bad as all that?
The doctor says? She will not last till morning, and
she certainly is very bad. Honor hesitated, for he wanted

(04:45):
to make a few preparatory remarks before coming to his proposition,
But as he could hit upon nothing, he made up
his mind suddenly, how much will you ask to stay
with her till the end? You know that I am
not rich and I can not even afford to keep
a servant girl. It is just that which has brought
my poor mother to this state too much worry and fatigue.

(05:08):
She did the work of ten in spite of her
ninety two years. We don't find any maid of that
stuff nowadays, Lara pe answered gravely. There are two prizes,
forty sou by day and three francs by night for
the rich, and twenty sou by day and forty by
night for the others. You shall pay me the twenty

(05:31):
and forty. But the peasant reflected, for he knew his
mother well. He knew how tenacious of life, how vigorous
and unyielding she was, and she might last another week
in spite of the doctor's opinion. And so he said resolutely, no,
I would rather you fix a price for the whole

(05:52):
time until the end. I will take my chance one
way or the other. The doctor says, she will die
very soon. If that happens, so much the better for you,
and so much the worse for her. But if she
holds out till to morrow or longer, so much the
better for her, and so much the worse for you.

(06:13):
The nurse looked at the man in astonishment, for she
had never treated a death as a speculation, and she hesitated,
tempted by the idea of the possible gain, but she
suspected that he wanted to play her a trick. I
can say nothing until I have seen your mother, she replied,
Then come with me and see her. She washed her

(06:35):
hands and went with him immediately. They did not speak.
On the road. She walked with short, hasty steps, while
he strode on with his long legs, as if he
were crossing a brook. At every step, the cows lying
down in the fields, overcome by the heat, raised their
heads heavily and lowed feebly at the two passers by,

(06:57):
as if to ask them for some green grass. When
they got near the house, Enormontor murmured, suppose it is
all over, And his unconscious wish that it might be
so showed itself in the sound of his voice. But
the old woman was not dead. She was lying on
her back on her wretched bed, her hands covered with

(07:19):
a purple cotton counterpane, horribly thin, knotty hands like the
claws of strange animals, like crabs. Half closed by rheumatism, fatigue,
and the work of nearly a century which she had accomplished.
Larapey went up to the bed and looked at the
dying woman, felt a pulse, tapped her on the chest,

(07:39):
listened to her breathing, and asked her questions so as
to hear her speak. And then, having looked at her
for some time, she went out of the room, followed
by honor. Her decided opinion was that the old woman
would not last till night. He asked, well, and the
sick nurse replied, well, she may last two days, perhaps three.

(08:03):
You will have to give me six francs everything included,
six francs. Six francs. He shouted, are you out of
your mind? I tell you she cannot last more than
five or six hours. And they disputed angrily for some time,
but as the nurse said she must go home, as
the time was going by, and as his wheat would

(08:25):
not come to the farm yard of its owner corn,
he finally agreed to her terms. Very well, then, that
is settled, six francs, including everything until the corpse is
taken out. And he went away with long strides to
his wheat, which was lying on the ground under the
hot sun which ripens the grain. While the sick nurse

(08:48):
went in again to the house. She had brought some
work with her, for she worked without seizing by the
side of the dead and dying, sometimes for herself, sometimes
for the family which employed her as seamstress and paid
her rather more in that capacity. Suddenly she asked, have
you received the last sacraments? Mother bonteon The old peasant

(09:11):
woman shook her head, and l'arapee, who was very devout,
got up quickly. Good, heavens, is it possible. I will
go and fetch the curete. And she rushed off to
the parsonage so quickly that the urchins in the street
thought some accident had happened when they saw her running.
The priest came immediately in his surplice, preceded by a

(09:33):
choir boy who rang a bell to announce the passage
of the host through the parched and quiet country. Some
men who were working at a distance took off their
large hats and remained motionless until the white vestmind had
disappeared behind some farm buildings. The women who were making
up the sheaves stood up to make the sign of
the cross. The frightened black hens ran away along the

(09:56):
ditch until they reached a well known hole, through which
they suddenly disappeared, while a foal, which was tied in
the meadow, took fright at the side of the surplice
and began to gallop round and round, kicking out every
now and then. The acolyte in his red cassock walked quickly,
and the priest, with his head inclined toward one shoulder

(10:17):
and his square beretta on his head, followed him, muttering
some prayers, while last off all came l'ar rapay, bent
almost double as if she wished to prostrate herself as
she walked with the folded hands as they do in church.
Honor saw them pass in the distance, and he asked
where is the priest going. His man, who was more intelligent, replied,

(10:42):
he's taking the sacrament to your mother. Of course. The
peasant was not surprised and said that may be, and
went on with his work. Mother Bonton confessed, received absolution
and communion, and the priest took his departure, leaving the
two women alone in the suffocating room, while Larapey began

(11:02):
to look at the dying woman and to ask herself
whether it could last much longer. The day was on
the wane, and gusts of cooler air began to blow,
causing a view of Epinal, which was fastened to the
wall by two pins, to flap up and down. The
scanty window curtains, which had formerly been white but were
now yellow and covered with fly specks, looked as if

(11:25):
they were going to fly off, as if they were
struggling to get away. Like the old woman's soul. Lying
motionless with her eyes open, she seemed to await with
indifference that death which was so near, and which yet
delayed its coming. Her short breathing whistled in her constricted throat.
It would stop altogether soon, and there would be one

(11:45):
woman less in the world. No one would regret her.
At nightfall on all returned, and when he went up
to the bed and saw that his mother was still alive,
he asked how is she, just as he had done
formerly when she had been ailing, And then he sent
Larapee away, saying to her to morrow morning at five
o'clock without fail, and she replied, to morrow at five o'clock.

(12:12):
She came at daybreak and found Honor eating his soup,
which she had made himself before going to work, And
the sick nurse asked him, well, is your mother dead?
She is rather better. On the contrary, he replied with
a sly look out of the corner of his eyes,
and he went out. Larapee, seized with anxiety, went up

(12:33):
to the dying woman, who remained in the same state,
lethargic and impassive, with her eyes open and her hands
clutching the counterpane. The nurse perceived that this might go
on thus for two days, four days, eight days, and
her avaricious mind was seized with fear. While she was
furious at the sly fellow who had tricked her, and

(12:54):
at the woman who would not die. Nevertheless, she began
to work and waited, looking intently at the wrinkled face
of mother Bonton. When Honora returned to breakfast, he seemed
quite satisfied, and even in a bantering humor, he was
decidedly getting in his wheat. Under very favorable circumstances, l'arape

(13:15):
was becoming exasperated. Every minute now seemed to her so
much time and money stolen from her. She felt a
mad inclination to take this old woman, this headstrong old fool,
this obstinate old wretch, and to stop that short, rapid
breath which was robbing her of her time and money
by squeezing her throat a little. But then she reflected

(13:36):
on the danger of doing so, and other thoughts came
into her head. So she went up to the bed
and said, have you ever seen the devil? Mother Bonton
murmured no. Then the sick nurse began to talk and
to tell her tales which were likely to terrify the
weak mind of the dying woman. Some minutes before one dies,

(13:59):
the devil appears, she said, to all who are in
the death throes. He has a broom in his hand,
a saucepan on his head, and he utters loud cries.
When anybody sees him, all is over, and that person
has only a few moments longer to live. She then
enumerated all those to whom the devil had appeared that year,

(14:22):
Josephine lassel U, lal Ratier, Sophie padanc No, Seraphine Grospierre.
Mother Bonton, who had at last become disturbed in mind,
moved about, wrung her hands and tried to turn her
head to look toward the end of the room. Suddenly,
Laharpee disappeared at the foot of the bed. She took

(14:43):
a sheet out of the cupboard and wrapped herself up
in it. She put the iron saucepan on her head
so that its three short bent feet rose up like corns.
And she took a broom in her right hand and
a tin pail in her left, which she threw up
suddenly so that it might fall to the ground noisily.
When it came down, it certainly made a terrible noise. Then,

(15:07):
climbing upon a chair, the nurse lifted up the curtain
which hung at the bottom of the bed, and showed
herself gesticulating and uttering shrill cries into the iron saucepan,
which covered her face, while she menaced the old peasant woman,
who was nearly dead with her broom. Terrified with an
insane expression on her face, the dying woman made a

(15:27):
superhuman effort to get up and escape. She even got
her shoulders and chest out of bed. Then she fell
back with a deep sigh. All was over, and Laharpee
calmly put everything back into its place, the broom into
the corner by the cupboard, the sheet inside it, the
saucepan on the hearth, the pail on the floor, and

(15:48):
the chair against the wall. Then, with professional movements, she
closed the dead woman's large eyes, put a plate on
the bed, and poured some holy water into it, placing
in it the twiger box that had been nailed to
the chest of drawers, and kneeling down, she fervently repeated
the prayers for the dead, which she knew by heart

(16:08):
as a matter of business. And when Honora returned in
the evening, he found her praying, and he calculated immediately
that she had made twenty sounds out of him, for
she had only spent three days and one night there,
which made five francs altogether, instead of the six which
he owed her. End of the Devil by Guidemo Passaint