Happiness Page #2

"Happiness" by Guy de Maupassant is a poignant short story that explores the complexities of love, desire, and the pursuit of happiness. The narrative follows the character of the rich and promising businessman, a man who seemingly has it all yet grapples with a profound sense of disillusionment. Through his interactions and experiences, Maupassant delves into the fleeting nature of joy and the intricate ways in which personal fulfillment often eludes individuals. The story is a reflection on the contradictions of human emotion, ultimately prompting readers to consider the true sources of happiness.

• Short story

								

branches of box roses and marjoram, while the meanest homes were
decorated with flags, and hung with drapery and rich stuffs.

"The conqueror came in through Trajan's gate, bare-headed, and with the
symbolical golden laurel wreath on his head; and sitting on his horse,
that was as black as a starless night, he appeared even taller, more
vigorous and more masculine than he really was. He had a joyous and
tranquil smile on his lips, and a hidden fire was burning in his eyes,
and his soldiers bore the flags and the trophies that he had gained,
before him, and behind him there was a noise of clashing partisans and
cross-bows, and of loud voices shouting vivats in his honor.

"In this fashion he traversed all the quarters of the town, and even the
suburbs. The women thought him handsome and proud, blew kisses to him,
and held up their children so that they might see him, and he might
touch them, and the men cheered him, and looked at him with emotion, and
many of them reflected and dreamt about that bright, unknown man, who
appeared to be surrounded by a halo of glory.

"The members of the Council began to perceive the extent of the almost
irreparable fault that they had committed, and did not know what to do
in order to ward off the danger by which they were menaced, and to rid
themselves of a guest who was quite ready to become their master. They
saw clearly that their hours were numbered, that they were approaching
that fatal period at which rioting becomes imminent, when the leaders
are carried away with it, like pieces of straw in a swift current.

"Hercules could not show himself in public without being received with
shouts of acclamation and noisy greetings, and deputations from the
nobility, as well as from the people, came repeatedly and told him that
he had only to make a sign and to say a word, for his name to be in
every mouth, and for his authority to be accepted. They begged him on
their knees to accept the supreme authority, as though he would be
conferring a favor on them, but the free-lance did not seem to
understand them, and repelled their offers with the superb indifference
of a soldier who has nothing to do with the people or a crown.

"At length, however, his resistance grew weaker; he felt the
intoxication of power, and grew accustomed to the idea of holding the
lives of thousands in his hands, of having a palace, arsenals full of
arms, chests full of gold, ships which he could send on adventurous
cruises wherever he pleased, and of governing that city, with all its
houses and all its churches, and of being a leading figure at all grand
functions in the cathedral.

"The shop-keepers and merchants were overcome by terror at this, and
bowed before the shadow of that great sword, which might sweep them all
away and upset their false weights and scales. So they assembled
secretly in a monastery of the Carmelite friars outside the gates of the
city, and a short time afterwards the weaver Marconelli, and the
money-changer Rippone brought Giaconda, who was one of the most
beautiful courtesans in Venice, and who knew every secret in the Art of
Love, and whose kisses were a foretaste of Paradise, back with them
from that city. She soon managed to touch the soldier with her delicate,
fair skin, to make him inhale its bewitching odor in close proximity,
and to dazzle him with her large, dark eyes, in which the reflection of
stars seemed to shine, and when he had once tasted that feast of love,
and that heavy wine of kisses, when he had clasped that pink and white
body in his arms, and had listened to that voice which sounded as soft
as music, and which promised him eternities of joy, and vowed to him
eternities of pleasures, Hercules lost his head, and forgot his dreams
and his oaths.

"Why lose precious hours in conspiring, in deluding himself with
chimeras; why risk his life when he loved and was loved, and when the
minutes were all too short, when he would have wished never to detach
his lips from those of the woman he loved?

"And so he did whatever Gioconda demanded.

"They fled from the city, without even telling the sentinels who were on
guard before his palace. They went far, far away, as they could not find
any retreat that was sufficiently unknown and hidden, and at last they
stopped at a small, quiet fishing village, where there were gardens full
of lemon trees, where the deserted beach looked as if it were covered
with gold, and where the sea was a deep blue until it was lost in the
distance. And while the captain and the courtesan loved each other and
wore themselves out with pleasure--with the enchantment of the sea close
to them--the irritated citizens, whom he had left were clamoring for
their idol, were indignant at his desertion, and tore up the paving
stones in the streets, to stone the man who had betrayed their
confidence and worship.

"And they pulled his statue down from its pedestal, amidst spiteful
songs and jokes, and the members of the Council breathed again ... as
they were no longer afraid of the great sword."
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