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COUCY-LE-CHATEAU: THE ARRIVAL AT COUCY-LE-CHATEAU, by                    
First Line: I said, 'I shall behold white cloudlets, round and fair, in traversing
Last Line: Hour when one dines, while the city fans itself with circling flights of doves!
Subject(s): Fate; France; Destiny


I said, "I shall behold white cloudlets, round and fair, in traversing the town,
bare to the heaven's blue shine, each from its neighbor born, like bubbles of
the air, above a roof whose ridge the turtle-doves align."

"To the right a belfry-top the hue of pigeon's down through the calm atmosphere
will softly coo the hours; to the left the donjon-keep with fingers of Spring
flowers will place upon its head a battlemented crown."

I arrive. 'Tis as I dreamed. Clouds, belfry, donjon-keep. 'Tis Coucy-le-Chateau.
I have divined it well. And the roof whose ridge aligns the turtle-doves,
asleep, by a kind freak of Fate surmounteth my hotel.

The "Apple of Gold" I see, limned on the sign-board staunch, with tightly-
twisted stem (a masterpiece, 'tis clear) above the portico beneath whose shade
the paunch, white-aproned, of mine host recoils as I draw near.

Sleeves, apron, trousers, cap, whiter than Easter flowers, red hands, pink face
of frank Roger Bontemps, and lo, thrust in his belt obese, the knife that carves
the towers, on every Sunday noon, of Coucy-le-Gateau,

these are the traits I see, peace to my heart to bring, of
Monsieur-Champion-at-your-service. -- My portmanteaus have fled instanter from
my hands, soon disinherited. My umbrella disappears. Will he take everything?

I recoil, too, in my turn. Laughing with hearty laughter (mine) I remark,
"Madame, in the carriage follows after. She does not care to climb these steep
ascents, Madame." And we laugh, we laugh, we laugh, I and Monsieur Champion.

Enough. I turn my back, in high content once more, and, traveller truly French,
I stroll the city o'er to show myself to the yews, to the barber's flasks, to
the shield of the notary, bright with gold, to the
lilies of the field.

pansies and gilly-flowers, beloved by shutters blue, to the cobblestones
caressed by a young pimpernel, to the fountain of the town, to its
hollow-bellied shell, to the cooing belfry-top, in fact, to all the view.

Children, five, six, seven, eight throng at my heels, big-eyed at the salient
nose whose glows the velvet cape illume of this stranger in full day descended
from the moon, "with a fried whiting's eyes," a
shrill-voiced urchin cries.

I buy them a red egg at the grocery. Luscious food! Behold me popular! Ere long
a dusty cloud encompassing me round makes me appear a god who from Olympus
smiles at the acclaiming crowd.

With fortunes quickly gained, O the sad aftermath! What revolution hath exploded
'gainst my legs? They wish red eggs, red eggs, in ever-fresh supplies. -- I buy
and throw. -- An egg of truly monstrous size

demolishes, morbleu! the hat for grand occasions of Suzon as she drives the
guide-book sights to view. A leap. I gain her side. We vanish in a hue and cry,
a mist of gold, a thunder of ovations.

With the bravo of the stones all Coucy now doth fete us. Our courier's a scared
fowl, saved from the horse's hoofs. And over the Place Haute, to better
contemplate us, the craning clouds ascend the ladder of the roofs.

Suzon, look closely now! At the corner of the square you will shortly see a man,
voracious-eyed, appear, who will greet us from afar with stretched, quadruple
chin, then will compress its folds like an accordeon

in measure, O Suzon, as our pair august the while, with statures still increased
dilating pupils fill. Should he embrace you not, impute no lack of will. His
arms already form the basket of his smile.

In spotless napery, behold Monsieur Champion, weapon at paunch. The last of
Coucy's sires? . . . I see at his side Madame, his spouse, who curtsies
smilingly. A pretty face, hum, hum, I know him well, Suzon."

Half-past eleven doth peal from the belfry. Joyous chimes! In the kitchens
casseroles are bubbling on the stoves. Fair Easter, fairest hour of the dial,
hour when one dines, while the city fans itself with circling flights of doves!





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