Jacques the Fatalist: And His Master by Denis Diderot Read Free Book Online Page B

whatever you want, but on condition that you don’t bother me any more about where Jacques and his master spent last night. They may have reacheda big town and spent the night with whores, or they may have stayed the night with an old friend who gave them the best he could, or they may have taken refuge in a Franciscan monastery where they were badly lodged and badly fed all for the love of God. They may have been welcomed into the house of a great man where they lacked everything that was necessary to them and were surrounded by everything that was superfluous, or the next morning they may have left a large inn where they paid dearly for a bad supper served on silver platters and a bad night spent in beds with damask curtains and damp creased sheets, or they may have received hospitality from some village priest on a meagre stipend who ran round his parishioners’ poultry yards requisitioning the wherewithal to make an omelette and a chicken fricassee, or they may have got drunk on excellent wine, eaten far too much and got the appropriate bout of indigestion in a rich Benedictine abbey. Although all of these might appear equally feasible to you, Jacques was not of this opinion. The only possibility was the one that was written up above. What is, however, true, is that when they had started out from whatever location you would have them start out from they had gone no further than twenty paces when the master said to Jacques, after, of course, having first, as was his habit, taken his pinch of snuff: ‘Well then, Jacques, the story of your loves?’
    Instead of replying Jacques cried out: ‘The devil with the story of my loves! I’ve gone and left…’
    MASTER : What have you left?
    Instead of answering him Jacques turned out all of his pockets and then searched himself all over without success. He had left the purse for their journey under the head of his bed and he had no sooner admitted this to his master when he cried out: ‘To the devil with the story of your loves! I’ve gone and left my watch back there hanging on the chimney!’
    Jacques needed no encouragement, but turned his horse about, and because he was never in a hurry started slowly back to…
    – The huge château?
    No, no. Out of all the different places, possible or impossible, which I have listed above, choose the one which best suits the present circumstances.
    Meanwhile his master continued on his way. But now, with the master and the servant separated from each other, I don’t know which of the two I would rather follow. If you want to follow Jacques, take care. The search for the purse and the watch could become so long and so complicated that it might take him a long time before he meets up again with his master who isthe sole confidant of the story of his loves and then it would be goodbye to the story of Jacques’ loves. If, however, leaving Jacques to go alone in search of the purse and the watch, you choose to keep his master company, you are being polite but you will be very bored. You do not know that type of person yet. He has very few ideas in his head at all. If he happens to say something sensible, it is from memory or inspiration. He has got eyes like you and me but most of the time you cannot be sure he is actually seeing anything. He does not exactly sleep, but he is never really awake either. He just carries on existing simply because it is what he usually does. Our automaton carried straight on ahead, turning round from time to time, to see if Jacques was coming. He got down from his horse and walked for a while on foot. Then he remounted, went about a quarter of a league, got down again and sat on the ground with his horse’s reins looped under his arm and his head in his hands. When he got tired of that position, he got up and peered into the distance to see if he could see Jacques. No Jacques. Then he got impatient and without really knowing whether he was talking or not he said: ‘The wretch, the dog, the rascal, where