Chapter VII
Original French
L’Ingénu repousse les Anglais.
L’Ingénu, plongé dans une sombre et profonde mélancolie, se promenavers le bord de la mer, son fusil à deux coups sur l’épaule, son grandcoutelas au côté, tirant de temps en temps sur quelques oiseaux, etsouvent tenté de tirer sur lui-même: mais il aimait encore la vie, àcause de mademoiselle de Saint-Yves. Tantôt il maudissait son oncle, satante, toute la Basse-Bretagne, et son baptême; tantôt il lesbénissait, puisqu’ils lui avaient fait connaître celle qu’il aimait. Ilprenait sa résolution d’aller brûler le couvent, et il s’arrêtait toutcourt, de peur de brûler sa maîtresse. Les flots de la Manche ne sontpas plus agités par les vents d’est et d’ouest que son coeur l’étaitpar tant de mouvements contraires.
Il marchait à grands pas, sans savoir où, lorsqu’il entendit le son dutambour. Il vit de loin tout un peuple dont une moitié courait aurivage, et l’autre s’enfuyait.
Mille cris s’élèvent de tous côtés; la curiosité et le courage leprécipitent à l’instant vers l’endroit d’où partaient ces clameurs, ily vole en quatre bonds. Le commandant de la milice, qui avait soupéavec lui chez le prieur, le reconnut aussitôt; il court à lui, les brasouverts: Ah! c’est l’Ingénu, il combattra pour nous. Et les milices,qui mouraient de peur, se rassurèrent et crièrent aussi: C’estl’Ingénu! c’est l’Ingénu!
Messieurs, dit-il, de quoi s’agit-il? pourquoi êtes-vous si effarés?a-t-on mis vos maîtresses dans des couvents? Alors cent voix confusess’écrient: Ne voyez-vous pas les Anglais qui abordent? Eh bien!répliqua le Huron, ce sont de braves gens; ils ne m’ont point enlevé mamaîtresse.
Le commandant lui fit entendre que les Anglais venaient piller l’abbayede la Montagne, boire le vin de son oncle, et peut-être enlevermademoiselle de Saint-Yves; que le petit vaisseau sur lequel il avaitabordé en Bretagne n’était venu que pour reconnaître la côte; qu’ilsfesaient des actes d’hostilité, sans avoir déclaré la guerre au roi deFrance, et que la province était exposée. Ah! si cela est, ils violentla loi naturelle; laissez-moi faire; j’ai demeuré long-temps parmi eux,je sais leur langue, je leur parlerai; je ne crois pas qu’ils puissentavoir un si méchant dessein.
Pendant cette conversation, l’escadre anglaise approchait; voilà leHuron qui court vers elle, se jette dans un petit bateau, arrive, monteau vaisseau amiral, et demande s’il est vrai qu’ils viennent ravager lepays sans avoir déclaré la guerre honnêtement. L’amiral et tout sonbord firent de grands éclats de rire, lui firent boire du punch, et lerenvoyèrent.
L’Ingénu piqué ne songea plus qu’à se bien battre contre ses anciensamis, pour ses compatriotes et pour monsieur le prieur. Lesgentilshommes du voisinage accouraient de toutes parts; il se joint àeux: on avait quelques canons; il les charge, il les pointe, il lestire l’un après l’autre. Les Anglais débarquent; il court à eux, il entue trois de sa main, il blesse même l’amiral, qui s’était moqué delui. Sa valeur anime le courage de toute la milice; les Anglais serembarquent, et toute la côte retentissait des cris de victoire, vivele roi, vive l’Ingénu! Chacun l’embrassait, chacun s’empressaitd’étancher le sang de quelques blessures légères qu’il avait reçues.Ah! disait-il, si mademoiselle de Saint-Yves était là, elle me mettraitune compresse.
Le bailli, qui s’était caché dans sa cave pendant le combat, vint luifaire compliment comme les autres. Mais il fut bien surpris quand ilentendit Hercule l’Ingénu dire à une douzaine de jeunes gens de bonnevolonté, dont il était entouré: Mes amis, ce n’est rien d’avoir délivrél’abbaye de la Montagne, il faut délivrer une fille. Toute cettebouillante jeunesse prit feu à ces seules paroles. On le suivait déjàen foule, on courait au couvent. Si le bailli n’avait pas sur-le-champaverti le commandant, si on n’avait pas couru après la troupe joyeuse,c’en était fait. On ramena l’Ingénu chez son oncle et sa tante, qui lebaignèrent de larmes de tendresse.
Je vois bien que vous ne serez jamais ni sous-diacre ni prieur, lui ditl’oncle; vous serez un officier encore plus brave que mon frère lecapitaine, et probablement aussi gueux. Et mademoiselle de Kerkabonpleurait toujours en l’embrassant, et en disant: Il se fera tuer commemon frère; il vaudrait bien mieux qu’il fût sous-diacre.
L’Ingénu, dans le combat, avait ramassé une grosse bourse remplie deguinées, que probablement l’amiral avait laissé tomber. Il ne douta pasqu’avec cette bourse il ne pût acheter toute la Basse-Bretagne, etsurtout faire mademoiselle de Saint-Yves grande dame. Chacun l’exhortaà faire le voyage de Versailles, pour y recevoir le prix de sesservices. Le commandant, les principaux officiers, le comblèrent decertificats. L’oncle et la tante approuvèrent le voyage du neveu. Ildevait être, sans difficulté, présenté au roi: cela seul lui donneraitun prodigieux relief dans la province. Ces deux bonnes gens ajoutèrentà la bourse anglaise un présent considérable de leurs épargnes.L’Ingénu disait en lui-même: Quand je verrai le roi, je lui demanderaimademoiselle de Saint-Yves en mariage, et certainement il ne merefusera pas. Il partit donc aux acclamations de tout le canton,étouffé d’embrassements, baigné des larmes de sa tante, béni par sononcle, et se recommandant à la belle Saint-Yves.
Musean translation
Complete machine-assisted Musean translation made directly from the French, independently of the Plain English edition. All twenty chapters and Voltaire’s three author notes are retained; Beuchot’s editorial apparatus is omitted.
The Ingénu repels the English.
The Ingénu, sunk in dark and profound melancholy, walked toward the seashore, his double-barreled gun on his shoulder and his great cutlass at his side, firing now and then at a bird and often tempted to fire at himself. But he still loved life because of Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves. At times he cursed his uncle, his aunt, all Lower Brittany, and his baptism; at times he blessed them, since they had brought him to know the woman he loved. He resolved to go and burn down the convent, then stopped short for fear of burning his beloved. The waves of the Channel are no more tossed by east and west winds than his heart was by so many contrary impulses.
He was striding along, not knowing where, when he heard the sound of a drum. In the distance he saw a whole crowd, half running toward the shore and the other half running away.
A thousand cries rose on every side. Curiosity and courage instantly hurled him toward the place the clamor came from; he flew there in four bounds. The militia commander, who had dined with him at the prior's, recognized him at once and ran to him with open arms. "Ah! It is the Ingénu! He will fight for us." And the militiamen, who were dying of fear, took heart and cried in their turn, "It is the Ingénu! It is the Ingénu!"
"Gentlemen," he said, "what is the matter? Why are you so frightened? Have your sweethearts been put in convents?" Then a hundred confused voices cried, "Do you not see the English landing?" "Well," the Huron replied, "they are good fellows. They have not taken my beloved from me."
The commander explained that the English were coming to plunder the abbey of the Mountain, drink his uncle's wine, and perhaps carry off Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves; that the little ship on which he had landed in Brittany had come only to reconnoiter the coast; that they were committing acts of hostility without having declared war on the king of France, and that the province lay exposed. "Ah! If that is so, they are violating natural law. Leave it to me. I lived among them for a long time; I know their language; I shall speak to them. I cannot believe they have such an evil design."
During this conversation the English squadron drew near. Off ran the Huron toward it, leaped into a small boat, reached the fleet, boarded the flagship, and asked whether it was true that they had come to ravage the country without having honorably declared war. The admiral and everyone aboard burst out laughing, gave him some punch, and sent him back.
Stung, the Ingénu thought of nothing now but fighting stoutly against his former friends for his countrymen and the prior. The neighboring gentlemen were hurrying in from every direction; he joined them. They had a few cannons; he loaded them, aimed them, and fired them one after another. The English landed; he ran at them, killed three with his own hand, and even wounded the admiral who had mocked him. His valor fired the courage of the whole militia. The English reembarked, and the entire coast rang with cries of victory: "Long live the king! Long live the Ingénu!" Everyone embraced him; everyone hurried to stanch the blood from a few slight wounds he had received. "Ah!" he said, "if Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves were here, she would put a compress on me."
The bailiff, who had hidden in his cellar during the battle, came to congratulate him like everyone else. But he was greatly surprised to hear Hercules the Ingénu say to a dozen willing young men gathered around him, "My friends, it is nothing to have freed the abbey of the Mountain. We must free a girl." All these hotheaded youths caught fire at those few words. Already they were following him in a crowd, running toward the convent. Had the bailiff not warned the commander that very moment, had they not run after the merry band, it would have been all over. They brought the Ingénu back to his uncle and aunt, who bathed him in tears of tenderness.
"I see plainly that you will never be either a subdeacon or a prior," his uncle told him. "You will be an officer even braver than my brother the captain, and probably just as penniless." And Mademoiselle de Kerkabon kept weeping as she embraced him, saying, "He will get himself killed like my brother. It would be far better for him to be a subdeacon."
During the battle the Ingénu had picked up a large purse full of guineas, which the admiral had probably dropped. He had no doubt that with this purse he could buy all Lower Brittany and, above all, make Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves a great lady. Everyone urged him to travel to Versailles to receive the reward for his services. The commander and the senior officers showered him with certificates. His uncle and aunt approved their nephew's journey. He would certainly be presented to the king; that alone would give him immense standing in the province. These two good people added a substantial gift from their savings to the English purse. The Ingénu said to himself, "When I see the king, I shall ask him for Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves's hand in marriage, and he certainly will not refuse me." So he departed to the acclamations of the whole district, smothered in embraces, bathed in his aunt's tears, blessed by his uncle, and commending himself to the beautiful Saint-Yves.
Plain English translation
Complete machine-assisted Plain English translation made independently and directly from the French, not from the Musean edition. All twenty chapters and Voltaire’s three author notes are retained; Beuchot’s editorial apparatus is omitted.
The Ingénu drives back the English.
Sunk in deep, dark sadness, the Ingénu walked toward the seashore with his two-shot gun over his shoulder and his large cutlass at his side. Now and then he fired at birds, and often he was tempted to shoot himself. But he still loved life because of Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves. Sometimes he cursed his uncle, his aunt, all of Lower Brittany, and his baptism. Sometimes he blessed them, since they had brought him to know the woman he loved. He made up his mind to burn down the convent, then stopped short for fear of burning his sweetheart. The waves of the English Channel are no more troubled by east and west winds than his heart was by so many opposing feelings.
He was striding along without knowing where he was going when he heard a drum. In the distance he saw a whole crowd, half running toward the shore and half running away.
A thousand cries rose from every side. Curiosity and courage immediately sent him rushing toward the place they came from. He reached it in four bounds. The militia commander, who had eaten supper with him at the prior's, recognized him at once and ran toward him with open arms. "Ah, it's the Ingénu! He'll fight for us." The militiamen, who were dying of fear, felt reassured and shouted too, "It's the Ingénu! It's the Ingénu!"
"Gentlemen," he said, "what's going on? Why are you so frightened? Have your sweethearts been put in convents?" A hundred confused voices shouted, "Can't you see the English coming ashore?" "Well," the Huron replied, "they're good people. They haven't taken my sweetheart away."
The commander explained that the English were coming to plunder the abbey of the Mountain, drink his uncle's wine, and perhaps carry off Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves. The little ship on which he had landed in Brittany had only come to scout the coast. The English were committing hostile acts without having declared war on the king of France, and the province was unprotected. "Ah, if that's true, they're breaking natural law. Leave it to me. I lived among them for a long time, and I know their language. I'll speak to them. I can't believe they mean to do anything so wicked."
While they were talking, the English squadron was drawing closer. The Huron ran toward it, jumped into a little boat, reached the flagship, and climbed aboard. He asked whether it was true that they had come to lay waste to the country without having honestly declared war. The admiral and everyone aboard burst out laughing, gave him some punch, and sent him back.
Stung, the Ingénu now thought only of fighting hard against his former friends for his countrymen and the prior. Local gentlemen were hurrying in from all directions. He joined them. They had a few cannons; he loaded, aimed, and fired them one after another. The English landed. He ran at them, killed three with his own hands, and even wounded the admiral who had laughed at him. His bravery stirred the courage of the whole militia. The English went back aboard their ships, and the whole coast rang with cries of victory: "Long live the king! Long live the Ingénu!" Everyone hugged him. Everyone hurried to stop the bleeding from the few slight wounds he had received. "Oh," he said, "if Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves were here, she'd put a dressing on me."
The bailiff had hidden in his cellar during the battle. Now he came to congratulate him like everyone else. But he was very surprised to hear Hercules the Ingénu tell a dozen willing young men gathered around him, "My friends, freeing the abbey of the Mountain is nothing. We have to free a girl." Those few words set all these hotheaded young men on fire. A crowd was already following him, and they were running toward the convent. If the bailiff had not warned the commander at once, and if they had not run after this cheerful band, it would have been all over. They brought the Ingénu back to his uncle and aunt, who covered him with affectionate tears.
"I can see you'll never be a subdeacon or a prior," his uncle told him. "You'll be an even braver officer than my brother the captain, and probably just as poor." Mademoiselle de Kerkabon kept crying as she hugged him and said, "He'll get himself killed like my brother. It would be much better if he became a subdeacon."
During the battle, the Ingénu had picked up a large purse full of guineas, probably dropped by the admiral. He had no doubt that with this purse he could buy all of Lower Brittany and, above all, make Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves a great lady. Everyone urged him to go to Versailles to receive a reward for his services. The commander and the senior officers showered him with certificates. His uncle and aunt approved their nephew's journey. He was sure to be presented to the king, and that alone would give him tremendous standing in the province. The good couple added a substantial gift from their savings to the English purse. The Ingénu said to himself, "When I see the king, I'll ask him for Mademoiselle de Saint-Yves's hand in marriage, and he certainly won't refuse me." So he left to the cheers of the whole district, smothered in embraces, drenched with his aunt's tears, blessed by his uncle, and entrusting himself to the beautiful Saint-Yves.
About this section
Chapter VII is part of L’Ingénu, histoire véritable tirée des manuscrits du P. Quesnel by Voltaire. This page sets the French original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is chapter 7 of 20 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
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