Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 49

           Thesameonewhoseslaughteratthehandsoftheexecutionertheyhadeagerlyawaitedonlyafewminutesbefore.Itwashe-nodoubtofit!Andyet-itwasnotheeither,itcouldnotbehe,hecouldnotbeamurderer.Themanwhostoodatthescaffoldwasinnocencepersonified.Allofthem-fromthebishoptothelemonadevendor,fromthemarquistothelittlewasherwoman,fromthepresidingjudgetothestreeturchin-knewitinaflash.Paponknewittoo.Andhisgreathands,stillclutchingtheironrod,trembled.Allatoncehisstrongarmswereasweak,hiskneesaswobbly,hisheartasanxiousasachild’s.Hewouldnotbeabletoliftthatrod,wouldneverinhislifehavethestrengthtoliftitagainstthislittle,innocentman-oh,hedreadedthemomentwhentheywouldleadhimforward;hetottered,hadtoprophimselfupwithhisdeath-dealingrodtokeepfromsinkingfeeblytohisknees,thegreat,themightyPapon!Thetenthousandmenandwomen,childrenandpatriarchsassembledtherefeltnodifferent-theygrewweakasyoungmaidenswhohavesuccumbedtothecharmsofalover.Theywereovercomebyapowerfulsenseofgoodwill,oftenderness,ofcrazy,childishinfatuation,yes,Godhelpthem,ofloveforthislittlehomicidalman,andtheywereunable,unwillingtodoanythingaboutit.Itwaslikeafitofweepingyoucannotfightdown,liketearsthathavebeenheldbacktoolongandriseupfromdeepwithinyou,dissolvingwhateverresiststhem,liquefyingit,andflushingitaway.

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