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Updated: July 27, 2025
M. Coignard slept in the lower chamber, under the stairs, in the same feather bed with the host and his wife, and all three thought they would be suffocated. M. d'Anquetil with Jahel took the upstairs room, where the bacon and the onions were suspended on hooks driven into the ceiling. I myself climbed by means of a ladder to a loft and stretched out on a bundle of straw.
"But Mistress Tournebroche would be still more estimable if she should have had intercourse with a Sylph, as Semiramis had and Olympias and the mother of that grand pope Sylvester II." "Ah, sir," said the Abbe Coignard, "you are always talking to us of Sylphs and Salamanders. Now, in simple good faith, have you ever seen any of them?"
M. Descartes, an extremely courteous man, replied to the academician of Dijon that, as a fact, her Majesty possessed a manuscript of Pindar, and that he had himself read there the verses, with the various readings contained in the letter." M. d'Asterac, who had been peeling an apple during his narration, looked at M. Coignard to enjoy the success of his discourse.
M. Jerome Coignard was quite right in saying: "To consider that strange following of bounds and rebounds wherein our destinies clash, one is obliged to recognise that God in His perfection is in want neither of mind nor of imagination nor comic force; on the contrary He excels in imbroglio as in everything else, and if after having inspired Moses, David and the Prophets He had thought it worth while to inspire M. le Sage or the interluders of a fair, He would dictate to them the most entertaining harlequinade."
A spiritual ancestor of Anatole France's marvellous full-length figure of Jerome Coignard, Borrow's conception takes us back first to Rabelais and secondly to the seventeenth-century conviction of the profound Machiavellism of Jesuitry." But in "Lavengro" and "The Romany Rye" he is an intruder with a design of turning these books into tracts.
I unfolded my doubts to M. Jerome Coignard, who reassured me in the following terms: "Jacobus Tournebroche, you do not take note of what I have just expressly told you, to wit, that what you call disorder is only such in the opinion of laymen and judges in law ordinary and ecclesiastical and in its bearing on human laws, which are arbitrary and transitory, and, in a word, to follow these laws is the act of a silly soul.
M. d'Anquetil passed him the demijohn and exclaimed: "By gad! abbe, you who belong to the Church, you'll tell us why women love Capuchins." M. Coignard wiped his lips and said: "The reason is that Capuchins love humbly, and never refuse anything. Another reason is that neither reflection nor courtesy weakens their natural instincts. Sir, yours is a generous wine."
By his order, his wife, a stout dame wearing a white cap covered by a felt hat, put sheets on the bed in the lower chamber. She helped us to undress the Abbe Coignard and to put him to bed. And then she went out to fetch the vicar. In the meanwhile M. Coquebert examined the wound "You see," I said, "it's small, and bleeds but little."
I'll return this very night to Paris with that great Mosaide whom you have accused so unjustly." I promised him all he wanted, and crawled into my miserable bed, where I fell asleep, weighed down as I was by fatigue and suffering. Illness of M. Jerome Coignard
A moment longer he meditated and then he said with much solemnity: "My son, have you no declaration to make?" "Yes, sir," said M. Abbe Coignard, with a firm voice, "I forgive my murderer." Then the priest gave him the holy wafer: "Ecce Agnus Dei, qui tollit peccata mundi." My good master replied with a sigh: "May I speak to my Lord, I who am naught but dust and ashes?
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