Diary of a Madman and Other Stories Read Online Free Page A

it:
    â€œ Ma chère, Fidèle, you must excuse me for not writing for so long. I was floating in a dream of delight. How truly has it been said by an author that love is a second life! Besides, there are great changes in the house. The Gentleman of the Chamber comes every day. Papa is in very good spirits. And the man Gregory, who sweeps the floor and talks to himself all the while, I heard him say that there will soon be a wedding, because Papa is determined on seeing Sophie married to a general, or to a gentleman of the chamber, or to a colonel in the army.”
    Damn it all! I cannot read any further. It’s always like that—a gentleman of the chamber, or a general. Everything that is best in the world goes to gentlemen of the chamber or to generals. You find some poor treasure, you believe you have just to reach out your hand to secure it,—a gentleman of the chamber or a general snatches it from under your very nose. Damn it! I should like to become a general myself, not merely for the sake of obtaining her hand, etc. No, I should love to be a general to see how they would begin wriggling and performing their courtiers’ tricks and equivocations, and then tell them that I spit at the two of them. Damn it! how exasperating all this is! I tore the silly dog’s letters to bits.
    DECEMBER 3
    IMPOSSIBLE! Nonsense! The wedding shall not come off! What if he is a Gentleman of the Chamber? That is nothing but an honor: it’s not a tangible thing that you could take in your hand. Being a Gentleman of the Chamber does not give one an extra eye in the forehead. His nose is not made of gold, it is just like mine, or anyone else’s. He uses it for smelling, and not for eating; for sneezing, and not for coughing. I have often wished to investigate the origin of all these differences. Why am I a Titular Councillor, and what are the reasons for my being a Titular Councillor? It may be that I am no such thing as a Titular Councillor. It may be I am a count or a general, and only appear to be a Titular Councillor. It may be I don’t myself know what I am. Are not there plenty of instances in history of a plain, I don’t say gentleman, but a mere tradesman or even a peasant being suddenly discovered to be a lord or a baron, or whatever you call it? If a peasant may turn out to be some such thing, what may not a gentleman turn out to be? Imagine me suddenly walking into the Director’s study in the uniform of a general: an epaulette on my right shoulder, another on my left shoulder, a blue ribbon on my chest—eh? What would my young lady say to that? What would her Papa, our Director, himself say? He is a very ambitious man, he is! He must be a freemason, most certainly a freemason. Though he pretends to be this and that, I saw at once that he was a freemason. When he shakes hands he extends only two fingers. And I—can’t I be this very minute created a governor-general, or a quartermaster, or any other great personage? I should like to know what makes me a Titular Councillor. Why precisely a Titular Councillor rather than anything else?
    DECEMBER 5
    SPENT the whole morning reading the newspapers. Strange things are happening in Spain. In fact I couldn’t quite make out what was happening. They say that the throne has been abolished, and that the Estates are in a difficulty as to the election of a successor, and that is why there is general trouble. This strikes me as exceedingly strange. How can the throne be abolished? They say that a Donna of some kind is to ascend the throne. It is impossible that a Donna should ascend the throne, absolutely impossible. The throne must have a King to occupy it. “But,” they say, “there is no King.” It cannot be that there is no King. A kingdom cannot be without a King. The King exists, only he must be in concealment. He may be there, in Spain, but either family considerations, or the suspicions of a neighbouring power, such