Translation: Erez Lebanon
From childhood, Callison was drawn to war. While his peers were still eagerly listening to fairy tales, he was feverish in his dreams of battles. As soon as he was old enough to bear arms, he participated in military campaigns and distinguished himself by his courage. Even as a boy, his natural ability and love of action led him to achieve the highest rank in the Revolutionary National Guard. He soon surpassed even the expectations of the people. Victory was his constant companion.
But the hostility and envy which arise whenever a man is successful, and which have already ruined so many talented men and stifled geniuses, led to false accusations against him. His coolness and moderation with which he responded to these attempts to damage his name only increased his enemies. They claimed that his generosity of heart was nothing but pride, that his firmness was boldness. Even his victories were used against him and became threats to harm him. He began to feel a reluctance to serve people who did not appreciate him. He felt the need to withdraw into himself. For the first time he began to reflect on his life, his inclinations, and his situation. Like all men, he sought happiness but found only fame.
This transformation he went through, this introspection, made Clisson realize that he was not only interested in war and that he had other inclinations than causing destruction. It was no less important to cultivate and develop the lot of people and make them happy than to destroy them. He decided to take a break for reflection in order to put in order the ideas that had been occupying his mind for many days. He left the army camp and immediately turned to his friend who lived in Champvert, near LyonHis friend's estate was located on a most spectacular site near that city. A site that combined all the beauty that art and nature could provide.
Callison stayed with his friend, pondering how, now that he had abandoned his illusions of fame, he could achieve happiness. He did not shut himself up in the house. His friend often entertained high-ranking people, and Callison found these ceremonies oppressive. A man with such a vivid imagination as his, with a burning heart, an uncompromising intellect, and a cool temper, was bound to be irritated by flattering conversations, by games of seduction, by tongue-twisters, and by peppery insults. He saw no point in tricks and did not appreciate wordplay. His life was one of solitude, and he was completely occupied with one thought, which he could not yet arrange or understand, although it had taken possession of his whole being.
Accustomed to hard work, Callison needed physical activity and activity. There was no activity that gave him greater pleasure than walking in the forest. There he found rest for himself, denouncing human weakness and scorning stupidity and cruelty. Callison was surprised to find himself fascinated by the sights he saw. The birth and decline of the day, the course of a star casting its silver light on the bushes and the field, the change of seasons, the changing sights, the choruses of birds, the splashing of water. Everything stunned him as if he were seeing it for the first time. All these were sights he had seen thousands of times before, but then they did not affect him as they did now.
How poor was Callison in his former life. He not only witnessed the destruction of his fellow men, but was punished because his soul, a victim of illusion and enthusiasm, was blind to beauty and insensitive to the delights of nature.
Since Callison was a skeptic by nature, he became melancholic. Dream took the place of reason in his heart. He no longer had any task to perform, no longer had anything to fear or hope for. This state of relaxation was so foreign to him, and could bring him to a state of numbness, without him even being aware of it. From dawn to dusk, as he walked through the fields, Callison did not remain indifferent to the suffering of the unfortunate people he encountered and he extended his hand to them for help.
*
The baths at Elly are three miles from Champvert. Many come there to enjoy the cool weather. From the beginning, Clisson looked at this place as if he were looking at a landscape of emotions. It was a kingdom of magic and he did not miss a day. He wandered, unrecognized, among the crowds of hearts. He observed with great interest the beauty of the women and their clothes, made mainly of linen. People feel at ease when they are at the baths and this allowed Clisson to have many conversations (meaningless in themselves but nevertheless creating a connection) that relieved his sadness and loneliness.
One day, after the rain, there were few people in the baths. He noticed two young women, strolling along for their own pleasure. Their gait was light and had the strength of teenage girls. Emily had beautiful, piercing eyes, a slim, elegant figure, a fair complexion, an oval face, and a white neck the color of alabaster. She was seventeen. Ajni was a year younger than her and not as attractive. When Emily looked at you, it was as if she were saying: “I look beautiful in your eyes! And you can only attract my attention by flattering me! I love compliments, and I love to let them ring in my ears.”
Ajni, on the other hand, never looked directly at a man. When she smiled her sweet smile, she revealed pearly white teeth arranged in a beautiful manner. If someone was about to take her hand, she timidly extended it to him, but quickly took it back. It was as if she was afraid to show her beautiful hand, the blue color of the veins in which contrasted with the whiteness of her skin.
Emily was like the sound of music. French which everyone listens to with pleasure due to the appreciation of the matching tones joining together in harmony. Ajni, in contrast, was like a work by Paesiell that offends and uplifts only those souls born to appreciate, while ordinary people are left without any special impression.
Emily seemed to command young men to love her, while Ajni touched people with intense emotion, whose love was not for the pleasure of the moment or as a competition but stemmed from a deep and committed passion.
For the first, love came through beauty. For the second, it could only come from true emotion. Agni had many friends, but she was willing to share her most intimate feelings with only one of them.
Callison was attracted to Emily because of her fresh face and beautiful eyes. He contrived tricks so that he would have the opportunity to talk to the two girls and accompany them to their country house, where he asked their permission to visit them from time to time. He could not stop thinking about the two beautiful girls who had come before him. He never tired of conjuring up Emily's face again and again and pondering her words. He allowed himself to lose his head. But the sight of the quiet and modest Agnes stood in his way. She had a strange effect on his heart, which violated the pleasant memory of the beautiful Emily.
As for the two young women, each was affected differently by Clisson. Ajni did not hide the unease that the stranger's conversation aroused in her. Emily found him somber but of an extraordinary appearance and refreshingly frank. Ajni believed that Emily was too frank with him. Her heart was troubled and she believed that the discomfort stemmed from the disgust she had aroused towards the stranger. However, she could not find an explanation or justification for this disgust.
The next day, Emily tried in vain to get Ajni to the baths, but Ajni refused, and as soon as Emily left, she got up to write to her sister and walk around the estate. Callison was already there when Emily arrived, and they became close like old friends. The free atmosphere of the baths and the relaxed holiday atmosphere canceled all formalities and rules of behavior. They spent several hours together, critically observing the women in love, and then the kind-hearted, beautiful, and charming Emily returned home, having formed an excellent opinion of Callison. True, she did not find him particularly attractive, but he was pleasant. She spoke only of Callison all day and persuaded Ajni to come to the baths the next day. Ajni thought a lot about the things the stranger had said. She did not know whether to hate him or to be fascinated by him.
The day before, Callison and Emily had quietly decided to meet. Callison was careful not to miss the mission, but when he spotted Emily approaching from afar, he was disturbed to see her with her friend. Ajni, for her part, listened but did not respond and replied indifferently. She stared at the stranger, not tiring of looking at him. “What’s the matter with him? How gloomy and thoughtful he is? His gaze has the maturity of the elderly but the complexion of his face reveals the weakness of youth.” Ajni began to get angry when she saw him so absorbed in Emily. She pretended to be tired and convinced the group to return to their village house. Here they met her doctor who visited them frequently. The doctor was shocked to see Emily with Callison. He did not even bother to greet him, although Emily introduced him to him by saying: “Monsieur Callison.”
“Forgive me,” Ajni burst out in the middle of Callison’s presentation, “we have heard so much about you. I was very interested in getting to know you better.” Her voice and appearance spoke to Callison’s heart and he looked at her with great attention. Their eyes met, their hearts melted, and it was not many days before they recognized that they were destined to love each other. Callison’s love was the most ardent and humble that a human heart had ever known. Ajni, who had hitherto devoted her heart to friendship, believing that he was insensitive to love, felt her strong ardor. Callison no longer pitied himself or troubled himself about other people, the enemy, or the war. From now on he lived only for Ajni.
They met frequently. Often they felt that their souls were one. They overcame obstacles and were united forever. All that was most honorable in love, the most delicate feelings, the most refined pleasures, overwhelmed the enchanted lovers. They gave themselves entirely to the temptation of confessing their love, to the revelation of their tender feelings, to the merging of their hearts, thoughts, and souls. Delicate tears bound their souls and assured their happiness.
Callison forgot the war and was fed up with his former life before he met Ajni, before he breathed for her. He devoted himself to love and abandoned all thought of fame. Months and years passed like hours. They brought children into the world, and remained lovers with a deep love. Ajni loved as steadfastly as she had been loved. There was no sorrow, pleasure, or worry that they did not share together. It could be said that nature had endowed them with the same heart, the same soul, the same feelings.
Every night, Ajni fell asleep with her head on her lover's shoulder or in his lap. They spent every day together, raising their children together, tending their garden and running their household. In his new life with Ajni, Callison certainly avenged the injustice of humans. In fact, he hardly thought about it anymore, and it seemed to him like a dream. The world, the people around them, the neighbors, all completely forgot what Callison had been like in the past. Ajni and Callison lived a secluded and quiet life, enjoying their love, the nature around them and the simplicity of village life. Some considered them mad, others misanthropes. Only the poor appreciated and blessed them - which comforted them in the face of the scorn of the fools.
Although she was already twenty-two years old, Ajni felt as if she were in her first year of marriage. Never had two souls been so bound together in their aspirations. Never had love, with all its vagaries, united two souls so different.
Life with such a talented man as Callison had an effect on Ajni. Her mind was cultivated, her great delicacy and her tender feelings strengthened so that she could be a mother to his children. Callison himself was no longer gloomy or sad. He had acquired a gentleness and tenderness towards his beloved. Military honors, to which he had been accustomed as a high commander, had sometimes made him stiff. Ajni's love now made him more agreeable and pliable. They met few people and were not well known even to their neighbors. The only connections they had with the outside world were when they helped the poor. It was at the beginning of the seventh year of their marriage, when the family was still young, when their bonds of love were still stronger in the happiness of their children.
*
The heat was oppressive. A terrible storm covered the sky. Rain and flashes of lightning struck and illuminated the sky in succession. Ajni burst into tears as she was gripped by terrible pain. She hugged her loved ones to her chest. Sophie began to cry at the sight of her mother's pain, hiding under her dress and hugging her knees with her small thighs.
“My beloved, my wife, the happy mother of my children, why, Ajni, are your beautiful eyes full of tears? Are you missing something? Your heart is blocked and empty! Sometimes you cry silently. You cry even when you are with your children. It is as if your heart is locked in a corner of your soul. Words of wisdom and reason cannot calm you.”
“The world is covered with heavy clouds, they flash lightning, thunder and torrential rain… My soul, like nature, is not quiet.” Surrounded by family members, Ajni was having a panic attack and she felt unwell. Her heart was heavy with pain. Callison went hunting and he came back wet to the bone. He had been out for six hours. He tried to catch his wife’s gaze and hugged his children to his chest.
They were all sad. Ajni felt oppressed and suffocated with pain. He sensed this and his heart went out to her. He embraced her in his arms and said to her firmly: “You are sad. There are things you keep secret from me.” “My beloved,” she told him, “I do not want to burden you with my pain. My soul is a victim of terrible heart feelings. I see an impenetrable cloud in front of me and it sucks my strength. Ah, Callison! There is only one terrible fate that can explain my pain, and that is, that you will stop loving me. If this ever happens – take my life with both your hands!”
Callison, whose esteem, love, and temperament bound him in an indissoluble bond with Ajni, did all in his power to restore Ajni to reason and joy. He took Sophie in his arms. “Ajni dearest, I swear to you on the life of our daughter Sophie that I will love you forever. But, as for you, do not torment me. Must you find reasons for anxiety when my heart is so quiet?” They continued their conversation into the night and darkness, and reached their bed very late. But, just as they were falling asleep, Callison was awakened by the sound of a carriage and horses. He rose and saw one of his runners with a letter from the government. It was an order to be in Paris within twenty-four hours, where he was to receive an important mission intended for a man of his abilities. “Poor Ajni! You continue to sleep while they take your beloved.”
“Then this is the explanation of the terrible mysteries!” cried Ajni. “The terrible fate is about to befall me. Oh, Callison, you abandon me, and you will once again face the stupidity of men and the fragility of fate.” “Hail, my joy, farewell to the days of the beautiful, so few and yet so cruel beyond measure, and now so worthless.” She was pale and weak, and her voice was fading. Callison himself was not at all quiet, but he had to go.
He soon led a whole army. But he did not take a single step without remembering Ajni, and without repeatedly recalling in his mind all the ways in which she had shown her love for him. His name became a sign of victory and his talents and fortune elevated him ever higher. He was a symbol of success in everything he turned to. He exceeded all the expectations of the people and the army. Indeed, he alone was the reason for military successes.
Callison, still so young and so important to his family and his homeland. Was he destined to die before his time? He had been separated from his love for several years, but not a day passed without him receiving from Agni the most sensitive of letters, which gave him the strength to nourish his love.
One evening, Ajni wrote to him: “I am worried and unhappy. I have a very bad feeling. Come to me, without delay. Only your sight will heal me. Last night I dreamed that you were lying on your deathbed. The life had gone from your beautiful eyes. Your mouth was lifeless, all color had gone from you. I threw myself on your body, which was as cold as ice. I wanted to revive you with my breath, to give you back the warmth of life, but you could no longer hear me. You no longer recognized me.”
At another time, Callison wrote to her: “You are ill. They told me what your condition was, although I already understood it from your letter and the feelings of my heart. Last night I saw you sleeping, tormented by something I do not know what. The night before I dreamed that I was in your bedroom. I was watching over you. You breathed your last breaths, aching with the agony of death. I took your hand and bathed it in my tears. You woke up and turned your head towards me. You recognized me, shook me and gave a sharp cry. You pushed me away from you gently, then turned your back on me so as not to look at me anymore. And when I woke up I was in terrible pain, almost dead.”
In one of the attacks, Clisson was caught in an exposed position and seriously wounded. His reputation only increased his grief. He sent Breville, one of his officers, to inform his wife of his wound and to keep her company until he recovered. Breville was in the twilight of his emotional life. His heart had not yet known love. He was like a traveler who, exhausted and lost at the end of a hard day's journey, looks around to find a place to lay his head, so he sought a place to lay his heart. He laid his eyes on Ajni, he mingled his tears with hers, he desired her attention, and all day long they talked of Clisson and his Mr. Fate. He thought that his young heart—still a novice in matters of feeling—throbbed with the emotions of friendship. But the passion, which had been aroused by its restraint, and of which he himself was unaware, had taken possession of him. He admired Ajni, and she was not restrained in her husband's friend.
Her letters to Clisson became shorter and less frequent. Terrible doubts troubled him. He was now recovered from his glorious wound, but he was troubled and could not hide the restlessness in his breathing. Breville should have returned by now, but he remained at Champvert. Nothing happened. Ajni did not come. Her letters were unrecognizable and lifeless. Her soul spoke no more to him. Ajni wrote no more to him, Ajni loved him no more.
Berville wrote him letters to fulfill his duty, and even then only when he had to. Day and night, Callison knew no happiness and his first thought was to rush to Champvert to rescue Ajni from shame and disgrace. But how could he abandon the army and his duty? The fatherland needed him more.
“My beloved, things are happening in a way that I cannot explain. I say this as I tremble with fear and grief. Ajni, your love has changed. Your heart has been stolen from me. Worse… this feeling is too strong. You have been deceived. You are still virtuous, despite my absence and the joy of people’s evil. I dare not hope any longer… thoughts are all confused. It seems that my honor is lost.”
It was two in the morning. Everything was ready for the end. The orders were given and the battalion made the final preparations. “Come morning, this place will be soaked in blood! But as for you, Ajni, what will you say? What will you do? What will become of you? Will you rejoice in my death? Will you curse my memory? And live happily?”
The sound of the trumpets was heard at sunrise. The camp fires were extinguished. The columns moved forward. The sound of the drums announced the attack of the flank and death penetrated the ranks. “Only the wretched fear losing their lives and strive to preserve them! As for me, I myself want to end my life, because it was Agni who gave them to me.”
He was told that the left wing was in retreat, a counterattack was about to begin. The center was busy and engaged in battle. Shortly afterwards he was told that the center was winning, but fresh forces were arriving to fight on the left wing. “Peace be upon you, with whom I have chosen to share my fate, peace be upon my friends from those most beautiful days. By your side I have tasted the highest happiness. With you I have sipped life to the full. What is left for me in the future, if not fatigue until I loathe it? At twenty-six I have fully experienced the fleeting pleasures of fame, but with your love I have felt the dizzying emotions of the life of the soul. The memory of this tears my heart to pieces. May you live happily and think no more of the unfortunate Callison! Kiss my children in my name, may they not have their father’s lustful soul, otherwise, like him, they will fall victim to people, to fame and to love.”
He folded the letter, ordered one of the staff officers to take it immediately to Ajni, and like someone who had frozen a demon, he placed himself at the head of a group of warriors and threw himself into the eye of the storm of war, the place where the battle would be decided, and drew his soul pierced by a thousand sword thrusts.
The End