[英语园地] 悲惨世界（Les Miserables）

四　多罗米埃乐到唱起西班牙歌来 英 文 那天从早到晚都充满了一股朝气。整个自然界仿佛在过节日，在嬉笑。圣克鲁的花坛吐着阵阵香气，塞纳河里的微风拂着翠叶，枝头迎风舞弄，蜂群侵占茉莉花，一群群流浪的蝴蝶在蓍草、苜蓿和野麦中间翩翩狂舞，法兰西国王的森严园囿里有成堆的流氓小鸟。 四对喜洋洋的情侣，嬉游在日光、田野、花丛、树林中，显得光艳照人。 这群来自天上的神仙谈着，唱着，互相追逐，舞蹈，扑着蝴蝶，采着牵牛，在深草中渍湿他们的粉红挑花袜；她们是鲜艳的，疯狂的，对人毫无恶念，每个姑娘都随时随地接受各个男子的吻，惟有芳汀，固守在她那种多愁易怒、半迎半拒的抵抗里，她的心有所专爱。“你，”宠儿对她说，“你老是这样。” 这就是欢乐。这一对对情侣的活动是对人生和自然发出的一种强烈的呼声，使天地万物都放出了爱和光。从前有一个仙女特地为痴情男女创造了草地和树林。从此有情人便永远逃学野游，朝朝暮暮，了无尽期，只要一天有原野和学生，这样的事便一天不会停止。因此思想家无不怀念春光。王孙公子、磨刀匠、公卿、缙绅、朝廷中人和城市中人（从前有这种说法）都成了那仙女的顺民。大家欢笑，相互追求，空中也有着一种喜悦的光彩，爱真是普天同庆！月下老人便是上帝。娇喘的叫声，草丛中的追逐，顺手搂住的细腰，音乐般的俏骂，用一个音节表现出的热爱，从这张嘴里夺到那张嘴里的樱桃，凡此种种，都烈火似的燃烧着，火焰直薄云霄。美丽的姑娘们甘于牺牲色相，那大概是永无尽期的了。哲学家、诗人和画家望着那种痴情，都不知道如何是好，他们早已眼花缭乱了。华托①号召到爱乡去。平民画家朗克雷②凝视着他那些飞入天空的仕女，狄德罗③赞颂爱情，杜尔菲④甚至说古代的祭司们也不免触景生情。 ①华托（Watteau，1684-1721），法国画家。 ②朗克雷（Lancret，1690-1743），法国画家。 ③狄德罗（Diderot），十八世纪法国唯物主义哲学家，百科全书创编人。 ④杜尔非（dAUrfé，1567-1625），法国小说家。 午餐过后，那四对情侣到了所谓王家方城，在那里看了那株新从印度运来的植物（我一时忘了它的名称，它曾经轰动一时，把巴黎的人全吸引到了圣克鲁），它是一株新奇、悦目、枝长的小树，无数的细如线缕的旁枝蓬松披散，没有叶子，开着盈千累万的小小白团花，象一丛插满花朵的头发。成群结队的人不断地去赞赏它。 看完了树，多罗米埃大声说：“我请你们骑毛驴！”和赶驴人讲好价钱以后，他们便从凡沃尔和伊西转回来。到了伊西，又有一件意外的收获，当时由军需官布尔甘占用的那个国有公园园门恰巧大开。他们穿过铁栏门，到岩洞里望了那个木头人似的隐修僧，在那著名的明镜厅里他们又尝试了那些神秘的小玩意，那是一种诲淫的陷阱，如果是一个成为巨富的登徒子或变作普利阿普斯①的杜卡莱②，这玩意倒十分相称。在伯尔尼神甫祭过的那两株栗树间，系着一个大秋千网，他们使劲荡了一回。那些美人一个个轮流荡着，裙边飞扬，皆大欢喜，戈洛治③如在场，大约又找到他的题材了；正在那时，那位图卢兹人多罗米埃（他和西班牙人的性格有些渊源，图卢兹和托洛萨是妹妹城）用一种情致缠绵的曲调，唱了一首旧时的西班牙歌曲，大致是因为看见一个美丽的姑娘在树间的绳索上荡来荡去而有所感吧： 我来自巴达霍斯， 受了情魔的驱使， 我全部的灵魂 都在我的眼里。 为什么 要露出你的腿。 ①普利阿普斯（Priape），园艺、畜牧、生育之神。 ②杜卡莱（Turcaret），十八世纪初法国喜剧家勒萨日（Lesage）所作喜剧中 的主人公，原是仆人，经过欺诈钻营，成了巨富。 ③戈洛治（Greuze，1725-1805），法国画家。 只有芳汀一个人不肯打秋千。 “我不喜欢有人装这种腔。”宠儿气愤愤地说。丢了毛驴，又有了新的欢乐，他们坐上船，渡过塞纳河，从巴喜走到明星区便门。我们记得，他们是在早晨五点起身的，但是，没有关系！“星期日没有什么叫做疲倦，”宠儿说，“疲倦到星期日也去休息了。”三点左右，这四对乐不可支的朋友，跑上了俄罗斯山①，那是当时在波戎高地上的一种新奇建筑物，我们从爱丽舍广场的树梢上望过去，便可以望见它那婉蜒曲折的线路。 ①俄罗斯山，一种供人游戏的蜿蜒起伏的架空铁道。 宠儿不时喊道： “还有那新鲜玩意呢？我要那新鲜玩意儿。” “不用急。”多罗米埃回答。

CHAPTER V    AT BOMBARDA'S Chinese The Russian mountains having been exhausted, they began to think about dinner; and the radiant party of eight, somewhat weary at last, became stranded in Bombarda's public house, a branch establishment which had been set up in the Champs-Elysees by that famous restaurant-keeper, Bombarda, whose sign could then be seen in the Rue de Rivoli, near Delorme Alley. A large but ugly room, with an alcove and a bed at the end (they had been obliged to put up with this accommodation in view of the Sunday crowd); two windows whence they could survey beyond the elms, the quay and the river; a magnificent August sunlight lightly touching the panes; two tables; upon one of them a triumphant mountain of bouquets, mingled with the hats of men and women; at the other the four couples seated round a merry confusion of platters, dishes, glasses, and bottles; jugs of beer mingled with flasks of wine; very little order on the table, some disorder beneath it;             "They made beneath the table A noise, a clatter of the feet that was abominable," says Moliere. This was the state which the shepherd idyl, begun at five o'clock in the morning, had reached at half-past four in the afternoon. The sun was setting; their appetites were satisfied. The Champs-Elysees, filled with sunshine and with people, were nothing but light and dust, the two things of which glory is composed. The horses of Marly, those neighing marbles, were prancing in a cloud of gold. Carriages were going and coming. A squadron of magnificent body-guards, with their clarions at their head, were descending the Avenue de Neuilly; the white flag, showing faintly rosy in the setting sun, floated over the dome of the Tuileries. The Place de la Concorde, which had become the Place Louis XV. once more, was choked with happy promenaders. Many wore the silver fleur-de-lys suspended from the white-watered ribbon, which had not yet wholly disappeared from button-holes in the year 1817. Here and there choruses of little girls threw to the winds, amid the passersby, who formed into circles and applauded, the then celebrated Bourbon air, which was destined to strike the Hundred Days with lightning, and which had for its refrain:-- "Rendez-nous notre pere de Gand, Rendez-nous notre pere." "Give us back our father from Ghent, Give us back our father." Groups of dwellers in the suburbs, in Sunday array, sometimes even decorated with the fleur-de-lys, like the bourgeois, scattered over the large square and the Marigny square, were playing at rings and revolving on the wooden horses; others were engaged in drinking; some journeyman printers had on paper caps; their laughter was audible. Every thing was radiant. It was a time of undisputed peace and profound royalist security; it was the epoch when a special and private report of Chief of Police Angeles to the King, on the subject of the suburbs of Paris, terminated with these lines:-- "Taking all things into consideration, Sire, there is nothing to be feared from these people. They are as heedless and as indolent as cats. The populace is restless in the provinces; it is not in Paris. These are very pretty men, Sire. It would take all of two of them to make one of your grenadiers. There is nothing to be feared on the part of the populace of Paris the capital. It is remarkable that the stature of this population should have diminished in the last fifty years; and the populace of the suburbs is still more puny than at the time of the Revolution. It is not dangerous. In short, it is an amiable rabble." Prefects of the police do not deem it possible that a cat can transform itself into a lion; that does happen, however, and in that lies the miracle wrought by the populace of Paris. Moreover, the cat so despised by Count Angles possessed the esteem of the republics of old. In their eyes it was liberty incarnate; and as though to serve as pendant to the Minerva Aptera of the Piraeus, there stood on the public square in Corinth the colossal bronze figure of a cat. The ingenuous police of the Restoration beheld the populace of Paris in too "rose-colored" a light; it is not so much of "an amiable rabble" as it is thought. The Parisian is to the Frenchman what the Athenian was to the Greek: no one sleeps more soundly than he, no one is more frankly frivolous and lazy than he, no one can better assume the air of forgetfulness; let him not be trusted nevertheless; he is ready for any sort of cool deed; but when there is glory at the end of it, he is worthy of admiration in every sort of fury. Give him a pike, he will produce the 10th of August; give him a gun, you will have Austerlitz. He is Napoleon's stay and Danton's resource. Is it a question of country, he enlists; is it a question of liberty, he tears up the pavements. Beware! his hair filled with wrath, is epic; his blouse drapes itself like the folds of a chlamys. Take care! He will make of the first Rue Grenetat which comes to hand Caudine Forks. When the hour strikes, this man of the faubourgs will grow in stature; this little man will arise, and his gaze will be terrible, and his breath will become a tempest, and there will issue forth from that slender chest enough wind to disarrange the folds of the Alps. It is, thanks to the suburban man of Paris, that the Revolution, mixed with arms, conquers Europe. He sings; it is his delight. Proportion his song to his nature, and you will see! As long as he has for refrain nothing but la Carmagnole, he only overthrows Louis XVI.; make him sing the Marseillaise, and he will free the world. This note jotted down on the margin of Angles' report, we will return to our four couples. The dinner, as we have said, was drawing to its close.

五　蓬巴达酒家 英 文 俄罗斯山溜完以后，他们想到了晚餐，到底有些疲倦了，兴高采烈的八仙在蓬巴达酒家歇下来了，那酒家是有名的饭店老板蓬巴达在爱丽舍广场设下的分店，当时人们可以从里沃利街，德乐麦通道旁边看见它的招牌。 一间房间，宽敞而丑陋，里面有壁厢，厢底有床（由于星期日酒楼人满，只得忍受那样的地方）；两扇窗子，凭窗可以眺望榆树外面的河水和河岸，一股八月的明媚阳光正射在窗口；两张桌子，一张上面有着堆积如山的鲜花以及男人和女人的帽子，另一张，则由这四对朋友占了，他们团团坐在一堆喜气洋洋的杯盘瓶碟的周围，啤酒罐和葡萄酒瓶杂陈，桌上不大有秩序，桌下更是有点乱。 “他们用脚在桌子下面搞得乒零乓郎一团糟。”莫里哀说过。 这就是从早晨五点开始的那次郊游到了下午四点半钟时的情形。太阳西沉了，意兴也阑珊了。 充满了日光和人群的爱丽舍广场只见阳光和灰尘，那是构成光辉的两种东西。马尔利雕刻的一群石马，在金粉似的烟尘中立在后蹄上，引颈长鸣。华丽的马车川流不息。一队堂皇富丽的近卫骑兵，随着喇叭，从讷伊林荫大道走下来，一面白旗①在斜阳返照中带着淡红颜色，在杜伊勒里宫的圆顶上飘荡。协和广场（当时已经恢复旧名，叫路易十五广场）上人山人海，个个喜气洋洋。许多人的衣纽上还佩着一朵吊在一条白闪缎带上的银百合花，那种东西，到一八一七年还没有完全绝迹。这儿那儿，成群的小女孩，在过路闲人围观鼓掌声中跳着团圆舞，迎风唱着一种波旁舞曲，那种舞曲，本是用来打倒百日帝政的，直到当时还流行，其中的叠句是： 送还我们根特②的伯伯， 送还我们的伯伯。 ①波旁王朝的旗帜。 ②根特（Gand），比利时城市，百日帝政期间，路易十八逃亡在那里。 一群群近郊居民，穿着节日的漂亮衣服，有些还模仿绅士，也佩上一朵百合花，四散在大方场和马里尼方场上，玩着七连环游戏或是骑着木马兜圆圈，其余一些人喝着酒；印刷厂里的几个学徒，戴着纸帽，又说又笑。处处都光辉灿烂。无可否认，那确是国泰民安，君权巩固的时代。警署署长昂格勒斯曾向国王递过一本私人密奏，谈到巴黎四郊的情形，他最后的几句话是这样的：“陛下，根据各方面的缜密观察，这些人民不足为畏。他们都和猫儿一样，懒惰驯良。外省的下民好骚动，巴黎的人民却不然。这全是些小民，陛下，要两个这样的小民叠起来，才抵得上一个近卫军士。在首都的民众方面，完全没有可虑的地方。五十年来，人民的身材又缩小了，这是值得注意的，巴黎四郊的人民，比革命前更矮小了。他们不足为害。总而言之，这都是些贱民，驯良的贱民。” 警署署长们是绝不相信猫能变成狮子的，然而事实上却是可能的，而且那正是巴黎人民的奇迹。就拿猫来说吧，昂格勒斯那样瞧不起猫，猫却受到古代共和国的尊重，他们认为猫是自由的化身，在科林斯①城的公共广场上，就有一只极大的紫铜猫，仿佛是和比雷埃夫斯②的那尊无翅膀的密涅瓦塑像作对衬似的。复辟时代的警察太天真，把巴黎的人民看得太“易与”了。恰恰相反，他们绝不是“驯良的贱民”，巴黎人之于法兰西人，正如雅典人之于希腊人，他比任何人都睡得好些，他比任何人都着实要来得轻佻懒惰些，没有人比他更显得健忘，但是切不可以为他们是可靠的，他尽可以百般疏懒，但是一旦光荣在望，他便会奋不顾身，什么都干的。给他一支矛吧，他可以干出八月十日③的事，给他一支枪吧，他可以再有一次奥斯特里茨。他是拿破仑的支柱，丹东④的后盾。国家发生了问题？他捐躯行伍；自由发生了问题？他喋血街头；留神！他的怒发令人难忘；他的布衫可以和希腊的宽袍媲美，他会象在格尔内塔街那样，迫使强敌投降。当心！时机一到，这个郊区的居民就会长大起来的。这小子会站起来，怒目向人，他吐出的气将变成飓风，从他孱弱的胸中，会呼出足够的风，来改变阿尔卑斯山的丘壑。革命之所以能够战胜欧洲，全赖军队里巴黎郊区的居民。他歌唱，那是他的欢乐。你让他的歌适合他的性格，你看着吧！如果他唱来唱去只有《卡玛尼奥拉》⑤一首歌，他当然只能推倒路易十六；但你如果叫他唱《马赛曲》，他便能拯救全世界。 ①科林斯（Corinthe），古希腊城市。 ②比雷埃夫斯（Pirée），希腊港口。 ③一七九二年八月十日，巴黎人民攻入王宫，逮捕国王，推翻了君主政体。 ④丹东（Danton），雅各宾派的右翼领袖。 ⑤《卡玛尼奥拉》（Carmagnolle），法国大革命时期歌曲之一，针对玛丽·安东尼特而作。 我们在昂格勒斯奏本的边上写了这段评语以后，再回头来说我们的那四对情人。我们说过，晚餐已经用完了。

CHAPTER VI    A CHAPTER IN WHICH THEY ADORE EACH OTHER Chinese Chat at table, the chat of love; it is as impossible to reproduce one as the other; the chat of love is a cloud; the chat at table is smoke. Fameuil and Dahlia were humming. Tholomyes was drinking. Zephine was laughing, Fantine smiling, Listolier blowing a wooden trumpet which he had purchased at Saint-Cloud. Favourite gazed tenderly at Blachevelle and said:-- "Blachevelle, I adore you." This called forth a question from Blachevelle:-- "What would you do, Favourite, if I were to cease to love you?" "I!" cried Favourite. "Ah! Do not say that even in jest! If you were to cease to love me, I would spring after you, I would scratch you, I should rend you, I would throw you into the water, I would have you arrested." Blachevelle smiled with the voluptuous self-conceit of a man who is tickled in his self-love. Favourite resumed:-- "Yes, I would scream to the police! Ah! I should not restrain myself, not at all! Rabble!" Blachevelle threw himself back in his chair, in an ecstasy, and closed both eyes proudly. Dahlia, as she ate, said in a low voice to Favourite, amid the uproar:-- "So you really idolize him deeply, that Blachevelle of yours?" "I? I detest him," replied Favourite in the same tone, seizing her fork again. "He is avaricious. I love the little fellow opposite me in my house. He is very nice, that young man; do you know him? One can see that he is an actor by profession. I love actors. As soon as he comes in, his mother says to him: `Ah! mon Dieu! My peace of mind is gone. There he goes with his shouting. But, my dear, you are splitting my head!' So he goes up to rat-ridden garrets, to black holes, as high as he can mount, and there he sets to singing, declaiming, how do I know what? so that he can be heard down stairs! He earns twenty sous a day at an attorney's by penning quibbles. He is the son of a former precentor of Saint-Jacques-du-Haut-Pas. Ah! he is very nice. He idolizes me so, that one day when he saw me making batter for some pancakes, he said to me: `Mamselle, make your gloves into fritters, and I will eat them.' It is only artists who can say such things as that. Ah! he is very nice. I am in a fair way to go out of my head over that little fellow. Never mind; I tell Blachevelle that I adore him--how I lie! Hey! How I do lie!" Favourite paused, and then went on:-- "I am sad, you see, Dahlia. It has done nothing but rain all summer; the wind irritates me; the wind does not abate. Blachevelle is very stingy; there are hardly any green peas in the market; one does not know what to eat. I have the spleen, as the English say, butter is so dear! and then you see it is horrible, here we are dining in a room with a bed in it, and that disgusts me with life."

六　相爱篇 英 文 餐桌上的谈话和情侣们的谈话同样是不可捉摸的，情侣们的谈话是云霞，餐桌上的谈话是烟雾。 法梅依和大丽哼着歌儿，多罗米埃喝着酒，瑟芬笑着，芳汀微笑着。李士多里吹着在圣克鲁买来的木喇叭。宠儿脉脉含情地望着勃拉什维尔说道： “勃拉什维尔。我爱你。” 这话引起了勃拉什维尔的一个问题。 “宠儿，假使我不爱你了，你将怎样呢？” “我吗！”宠儿喊着说，“唉！不要说这种话，哪怕是开玩笑，也不要说这种话！假使你不爱我了，我就跳到你后面，抓你的皮，扯你的头发，把水淋到你的身上，叫你吃官司。” 勃拉什维尔自诩多情地微笑了一下，正如一个自尊心获得极端满足而感到舒服的人一样。宠儿又说： “是呀！我会叫警察！哼！你以为我有什么事做不出的！ 坏种！” 勃拉什维尔，受宠若惊，仰在椅上，沾沾自喜地闭上了眼睛。 大丽吃个不停，从喧杂的语声中对宠儿说： “看来，你对你的勃拉什维尔不是很痴心吗？” “我，我厌恶他，”宠儿用了同样的语调回答，重又拿起她的叉子。“他舍不得花钱。我爱着在我对面住的那个小伙子。那小子长得漂亮得很，你认得他吗？他很有做戏子的派头。我喜欢戏子。他一回家，他娘就说：‘呀！我的上帝！我又不得安静了。他要叫起来了。唉，我的朋友，你要叫破我的脑袋吗！’因为他一到家里，便到那些住耗子的阁楼上，那些黑洞里，越高越好，他在那里又唱又朗诵，谁知道他搞些什么！下面的人都听得见。他在一个律师家里写讼词，每天已能赚二十个苏了。他父亲是圣雅克教堂里的唱诗人。呀！他生得非常好。他已经爱我到这种地步，有一天，他看见我在调灰面做薄饼，他对我说：‘小姐，您拿您的手套做些饼，我全会吃下去。’世界上只有艺术家才会说这样的话。听！他生得非常好。我已要为那小白脸发疯了。这不打紧，我对勃拉什维尔还是说我爱他。 我多么会撒谎！你说是吗？我多么会撒谎！” 宠儿喘了口气，又继续说： “大丽，你知道吗？我心里烦得很。落了一夏季的雨，这风真叫我受不了，风又熄不了我心头的火，勃拉什维尔是个小气鬼，菜场里又不大有豌豆卖，他只知道吃，正好象英国人说的，我害‘忧郁病’了，奶油又那么贵！并且，你瞧，真是笑话，我们竟会在有床铺的房间里吃饭，我还不如死了的好。”

CHAPTER VII    THE WISDOM OF THOLOMYES Chinese In the meantime, while some sang, the rest talked together tumultuously all at once; it was no longer anything but noise. Tholomyes intervened. "Let us not talk at random nor too fast," he exclaimed. "Let us reflect, if we wish to be brilliant. Too much improvisation empties the mind in a stupid way. Running beer gathers no froth. No haste, gentlemen. Let us mingle majesty with the feast. Let us eat with meditation; let us make haste slowly. Let us not hurry. Consider the springtime; if it makes haste, it is done for; that is to say, it gets frozen. Excess of zeal ruins peach-trees and apricot-trees. Excess of zeal kills the grace and the mirth of good dinners. No zeal, gentlemen! Grimod de la Reyniere agrees with Talleyrand." A hollow sound of rebellion rumbled through the group. "Leave us in peace, Tholomyes," said Blachevelle. "Down with the tyrant!" said Fameuil. "Bombarda, Bombance, and Bambochel!" cried Listolier. "Sunday exists," resumed Fameuil. "We are sober," added Listolier. "Tholomyes," remarked Blachevelle, "contemplate my calmness [mon calme]." "You are the Marquis of that," retorted Tholomyes. This mediocre play upon words produced the effect of a stone in a pool. The Marquis de Montcalm was at that time a celebrated royalist. All the frogs held their peace. "Friends," cried Tholomyes, with the accent of a man who had recovered his empire, "Come to yourselves. This pun which has fallen from the skies must not be received with too much stupor. Everything which falls in that way is not necessarily worthy of enthusiasm and respect. The pun is the dung of the mind which soars. The jest falls, no matter where; and the mind after producing a piece of stupidity plunges into the azure depths. A whitish speck flattened against the rock does not prevent the condor from soaring aloft. Far be it from me to insult the pun! I honor it in proportion to its merits; nothing more. All the most august, the most sublime, the most charming of humanity, and perhaps outside of humanity, have made puns. Jesus Christ made a pun on St. Peter, Moses on Isaac, AEschylus on Polynices, Cleopatra on Octavius. And observe that Cleopatra's pun preceded the battle of Actium, and that had it not been for it, no one would have remembered the city of Toryne, a Greek name which signifies a ladle. That once conceded, I return to my exhortation. I repeat, brothers, I repeat, no zeal, no hubbub, no excess; even in witticisms, gayety, jollities, or plays on words. Listen to me. I have the prudence of Amphiaraus and the baldness of Caesar. There must be a limit, even to rebuses. Est modus in rebus. "There must be a limit, even to dinners. You are fond of apple turnovers, ladies; do not indulge in them to excess. Even in the matter of turnovers, good sense and art are requisite. Gluttony chastises the glutton, Gula punit Gulax. Indigestion is charged by the good God with preaching morality to stomachs. And remember this: each one of our passions, even love, has a stomach which must not be filled too full. In all things the word finis must be written in good season; self-control must be exercised when the matter becomes urgent; the bolt must be drawn on appetite; one must set one's own fantasy to the violin, and carry one's self to the post. The sage is the man who knows how, at a given moment, to effect his own arrest. Have some confidence in me, for I have succeeded to some extent in my study of the law, according to the verdict of my examinations, for I know the difference between the question put and the question pending, for I have sustained a thesis in Latin upon the manner in which torture was administered at Rome at the epoch when Munatius Demens was quaestor of the Parricide; because I am going to be a doctor, apparently it does not follow that it is absolutely necessary that I should be an imbecile. I recommend you to moderation in your desires. It is true that my name is Felix Tholomyes; I speak well. Happy is he who, when the hour strikes, takes a heroic resolve, and abdicates like Sylla or Origenes." Favourite listened with profound attention. "Felix," said she, "what a pretty word! I love that name. It is Latin; it means prosper." Tholomyes went on:-- "Quirites, gentlemen, caballeros, my friends. Do you wish never to feel the prick, to do without the nuptial bed, and to brave love? Nothing more simple. Here is the receipt: lemonade, excessive exercise, hard labor; work yourself to death, drag blocks, sleep not, hold vigil, gorge yourself with nitrous beverages, and potions of nymphaeas; drink emulsions of poppies and agnus castus; season this with a strict diet, starve yourself, and add thereto cold baths, girdles of herbs, the application of a plate of lead, lotions made with the subacetate of lead, and fomentations of oxycrat." "I prefer a woman," said Listolier. "Woman," resumed Tholomyes; "distrust her. Woe to him who yields himself to the unstable heart of woman! Woman is perfidious and disingenuous. She detests the serpent from professional jealousy. The serpent is the shop over the way." "Tholomyes!" cried Blachevelle, "you are drunk!" "Pardieu," said Tholomyes. "Then be gay," resumed Blachevelle. "I agree to that," responded Tholomyes. And, refilling his glass, he rose. "Glory to wine! Nunc te, Bacche, canam! Pardon me ladies; that is Spanish. And the proof of it, senoras, is this: like people, like cask. The arrobe of Castile contains sixteen litres; the cantaro of Alicante, twelve; the almude of the Canaries, twenty-five; the cuartin of the Balearic Isles, twenty-six; the boot of Tzar Peter, thirty. Long live that Tzar who was great, and long live his boot, which was still greater! Ladies, take the advice of a friend; make a mistake in your neighbor if you see fit. The property of love is to err. A love affair is not made to crouch down and brutalize itself like an English serving-maid who has callouses on her knees from scrubbing. It is not made for that; it errs gayly, our gentle love. It has been said, error is human; I say, error is love. Ladies, I idolize you all. O Zephine, O Josephine, face more than irregular, you would be charming were you not all askew. You have the air of a pretty face upon which some one has sat down by mistake. As for Favourite, O nymphs and muses! one day when Blachevelle was crossing the gutter in the Rue Guerin-Boisseau, he espied a beautiful girl with white stockings well drawn up, which displayed her legs. This prologue pleased him, and Blachevelle fell in love. The one he loved was Favourite. O Favourite, thou hast Ionian lips. There was a Greek painter named Euphorion, who was surnamed the painter of the lips. That Greek alone would have been worthy to paint thy mouth. Listen! before thee, there was never a creature worthy of the name. Thou wert made to receive the apple like Venus, or to eat it like Eve; beauty begins with thee. I have just referred to Eve; it is thou who hast created her. Thou deservest the letters-patent of the beautiful woman. O Favourite, I cease to address you as `thou,' because I pass from poetry to prose. You were speaking of my name a little while ago. That touched me; but let us, whoever we may be, distrust names. They may delude us. I am called Felix, and I am not happy. Words are liars. Let us not blindly accept the indications which they afford us. It would be a mistake to write to Liege[2] for corks, and to Pau for gloves. Miss Dahlia, were I in your place, I would call myself Rosa. A flower should smell sweet, and woman should have wit. I say nothing of Fantine; she is a dreamer, a musing, thoughtful, pensive person; she is a phantom possessed of the form of a nymph and the modesty of a nun, who has strayed into the life of a grisette, but who takes refuge in illusions, and who sings and prays and gazes into the azure without very well knowing what she sees or what she is doing, and who, with her eyes fixed on heaven, wanders in a garden where there are more birds than are in existence. O Fantine, know this: I, Tholomyes, I am all illusion; but she does not even hear me, that blond maid of Chimeras! as for the rest, everything about her is freshness, suavity, youth, sweet morning light. O Fantine, maid worthy of being called Marguerite or Pearl, you are a woman from the beauteous Orient. Ladies, a second piece of advice: do not marry; marriage is a graft; it takes well or ill; avoid that risk. But bah! what am I saying? I am wasting my words. Girls are incurable on the subject of marriage, and all that we wise men can say will not prevent the waistcoat-makers and the shoe-stitchers from dreaming of husbands studded with diamonds. Well, so be it; but, my beauties, remember this, you eat too much sugar. You have but one fault, O woman, and that is nibbling sugar. O nibbling sex, your pretty little white teeth adore sugar. Now, heed me well, sugar is a salt. All salts are withering. Sugar is the most desiccating of all salts; it sucks the liquids of the blood through the veins; hence the coagulation, and then the solidification of the blood; hence tubercles in the lungs, hence death. That is why diabetes borders on consumption. Then, do not crunch sugar, and you will live. I turn to the men: gentlemen, make conquest, rob each other of your well-beloved without remorse. Chassez across. In love there are no friends. Everywhere where there is a pretty woman hostility is open. No quarter, war to the death! a pretty woman is a casus belli; a pretty woman is flagrant misdemeanor. All the invasions of history have been determined by petticoats. Woman is man's right. Romulus carried off the Sabines; William carried off the Saxon women; Caesar carried off the Roman women. The man who is not loved soars like a vulture over the mistresses of other men; and for my own part, to all those unfortunate men who are widowers, I throw the sublime proclamation of Bonaparte to the army of Italy: "Soldiers, you are in need of everything; the enemy has it." [2] Liege: a cork-tree. Pau: a jest on peau, skin. Tholomyes paused. "Take breath, Tholomyes," said Blachevelle. At the same moment Blachevelle, supported by Listolier and Fameuil, struck up to a plaintive air, one of those studio songs composed of the first words which come to hand, rhymed richly and not at all, as destitute of sense as the gesture of the tree and the sound of the wind, which have their birth in the vapor of pipes, and are dissipated and take their flight with them. This is the couplet by which the group replied to Tholomyes' harangue:-- "The father turkey-cocks so grave Some money to an agent gave, That master good Clermont-Tonnerre Might be made pope on Saint Johns' day fair. But this good Clermont could not be Made pope, because no priest was he; And then their agent, whose wrath burned, With all their money back returned." This was not calculated to calm Tholomyes' improvisation; he emptied his glass, filled, refilled it, and began again:-- "Down with wisdom! Forget all that I have said. Let us be neither prudes nor prudent men nor prudhommes. I propose a toast to mirth; be merry. Let us complete our course of law by folly and eating! Indigestion and the digest. Let Justinian be the male, and Feasting, the female! Joy in the depths! Live, O creation! The world is a great diamond. I am happy. The birds are astonishing. What a festival everywhere! The nightingale is a gratuitous Elleviou. Summer, I salute thee! O Luxembourg! O Georgics of the Rue Madame, and of the Allee de l'Observatoire! O pensive infantry soldiers! O all those charming nurses who, while they guard the children, amuse themselves! The pampas of America would please me if I had not the arcades of the Odeon. My soul flits away into the virgin forests and to the savannas. All is beautiful. The flies buzz in the sun. The sun has sneezed out the humming bird. Embrace me, Fantine!" He made a mistake and embraced Favourite.

七　多罗米埃的高见 英 文 这时，有几个人唱着歌，其余的人都谈着话，稀里哗啦，也不分个先后，到处只有一片乱嘈嘈的声音。多罗米埃开口了：“我们不应当胡说八道，也不应当说得太快，”他大声说，“让我们想想，我们是不是想要卖弄自己的口才。过分地信口开河只能浪费精力，再傻也没有了。流着的啤酒堆不起泡沫。先生们，不可性急。我们吃喝，也得有吃喝的气派。让我们细心地吃，慢慢地喝。我们不必赶快。你们看春天吧，如果它来得太快，它就烧起来了，就是说，一切植物都不能发芽了。过分的热可以损害桃花和杏花。过分的热也可以消灭盛宴的雅兴和欢乐。先生们，心不可热！拉雷尼埃尔①和塔列朗的意见都是这样。” 一阵震耳欲聋的反抗声从那堆人里发出来。 “多罗米埃，不要闹！”勃拉什维尔说。 ‘打倒专制魔王！”法梅依说。 “蓬巴达②！蓬彭斯③！彭博什④！” “星期日还没完呢。”法梅依又说。 “我们并没有乱来。”李士多里说。 “多罗米埃，”勃拉什维尔说，“请注意我的安静态度。” “在这方面，你算得是侯爷。” 这句小小的隐语竟好象是一块丢在池塘里的石头。安静山⑤侯爵是当时一个大名鼎鼎的保王党。蛙群全没声息了。 ①拉雷尼埃尔（GrimoddelaReynière），巴黎的烹调专家，著有食谱。 ②蓬巴达（Bombarda），酒家。 ③蓬彭斯（Bombance），盛筵。 ④彭博什（Bambocbhe），荷兰画家。 ⑤“安静山”（Montcalm）和上面勃拉什维尔所说的“我的安静”（moncalme）同音。 “朋友们，”多罗米埃以一个重获首领地位的人的口吻大声说，“安静下来。见了这种天上落下来的玩笑也不必太慌张。凡是这样落下来的东西，不一定是值得兴奋和敬佩的。隐语是飞着的精灵所遗的粪。笑话四处都有，精灵在说笑一通之后，又飞上天去了。神鹰遗了一堆白色的秽物在岩石上，仍旧翱翔自如。我毫不亵渎隐语。我仅就它价值的高下，寄以相当的敬意罢了。人类中，也许是人类以外，最尊严、最卓越和最可亲的人都说过隐语。耶稣基督说过一句有关圣彼得的隐语。摩西在谈到以撒、埃斯库罗斯、波吕尼刻斯时，克娄巴特拉在谈到屋大维时也都使用过隐语。还要请你们注意，克娄巴特拉的隐语是在亚克兴①战争以前说的，假使没有它，也就不会有人记得多临城，多临在希腊语中只是一个勺而已。这件事交代以后，我再回头来说我的劝告词。我的弟兄们，我再说一遍，即使是在说俏皮话、诙谐、笑谑和隐语时，也不可过于热心，不可嚣张，不可过分。诸位听我讲，我有安菲阿拉俄斯②的谨慎和恺撒的秃顶。即使是猜谜语，也应当有限度。这就是拉丁话所谓的Estmodusinrebus。即使是饮食，也应当有节制。 ①亚克兴（Actium），公元前三一年罗马舰队在屋大维率领下，击败叛将安敦尼于此，埃及王后克娄巴特拉死之。 ②安菲阿拉俄斯（AmphiararauBs），攻打底比斯的七英雄之一，是著名的先知。 女士们，你们喜欢苹果饺，可不要吃得太多了。就是吃饺，也应当有限度和有艺术手法。贪多嚼不烂，好比蛇吞象。胃病总是由于贪吃。疳积病是上帝派来教育胃的。并且你们应当记住这一点：我们的每一种欲念，甚至包括爱情在内，也都有胃口，不可太饱。在任何事情上，都应当在适当的时候写上‘终’字；在紧急的时候，我们应当自行约束，推上食量的门闩，囚禁自己的妄念，并且自请处罚。知道在适当的时候自动管制自己的人就是聪明人。对于我，你们不妨多少有点信心，因为我学过一点法律，我的考试成绩可以证明，因为我知道存案和悬案间的差别，因为我用拉丁文做过一篇论文，论《缪纳修斯·德门任弑君者的度支官时期的罗马刑法》，因为我快做博士了，照说，从此以后，我就一定不会是个蠢才了。我劝告你们，应当节欲。我说的是好话，真实可靠到和我叫斐利克斯·多罗米埃一样。时机一到，就下定决心，象西拉①或奥利金②那样，毅然引退，那样才真是快乐的人。” 宠儿聚精会神地听着。 “斐利克斯！”她说，“这是个多么漂亮的名字！我爱这个名字。这是拉丁文，作‘兴盛’解释。” 多罗米埃接下去说： “公民们，先生们，少爷们③，朋友们！你们要摒绝床第之事，放弃儿女之情而毫不冲动吗？再简单也没有。这就是药方：柠檬水，过度的体操，强迫劳动，疲劳，拖重东西，不睡觉，守夜，多饮含硝质的饮料和白荷花汤，尝莺粟油和马鞭草油，厉行节食，饿肚子，继之以冷水浴，使用草索束身，佩带铅块，用醋酸铅擦身，用醋汤作热敷。” ①西拉（Sylla），即苏拉（Sulla），公元前一世纪罗马的独裁者。 ②奥利金（Origène，约前185-254），基督教神学家。 ③这三种称呼，原文用的是拉丁文、英文和西班牙文：guirites，gentlemen，caballeros。 “我宁愿请教女人。”李士多里说。 “女人！”多罗米埃说，“你们得小心。女人杨花水性，信赖她们，那真是自讨苦吃。女人是邪淫寡信的。她们恨蛇，那只是出于同业的妒嫉心。蛇和女人是对门住的。” “多罗米埃！”勃拉什维尔喊着说，“你喝醉了！” “可不是！”多罗米埃说。 “那么，你乐一乐吧。”勃拉什维尔又说。 “我同意。”多罗米埃回答。 于是，一面斟满酒，一面立起来： “光荣属于美酒！现在，酒神，请喝！①对不起，诸位小姐，这是西班牙文。证据呢，女士们，就是这样。怎样的民族就有怎样的酒桶。卡斯蒂利亚②的亚洛伯，盛十六公升，阿利坎特的康达罗十二公升，加那利群岛的亚尔缪德二十五公升，巴科阿里③群岛的苦亚丹二十六公升，沙皇彼得的普特三十公升。伟大的彼得万岁，他那更伟大的普特万万岁。诸位女士们，请让我以朋友资格奉劝一句话：你们应当随心所欲，广结良缘。爱情的本质就是乱撞。爱神不需要象一个膝盖上擦起疙瘩的英国女仆那样死死蹲在一个地方。那位温柔的爱神生来并不是这样的，它嘻嘻哈哈四处乱撞，别人说过，撞错总也还是人情；我说，撞错总也还是爱情。诸位女士，我崇拜你们中的每一位。呵瑟芬，呵，约瑟芬，俏皮娘儿，假使你不那样撅着嘴，你就更迷人了。你那神气好象是被谁在你脸上无意中坐了一下子似的。至于宠儿，呵，山林中的仙女和缪斯！勃拉什维尔一天走过格雷－巴梭街的小溪边，看见一个美貌姑娘，露着腿，穿着一双白袜，拉得紧紧的。这个样子合了他的意，于是勃拉什维尔着迷了。他爱的那个人儿便是宠儿。呵，宠儿！你有爱奥尼亚人的嘴唇。从前有个希腊画家叫欧风里翁，别人给了他个别号，叫嘴唇画家。只有那个希腊人才配画你的嘴唇。听我说！在你以前，没有一个人是够得上他一画的。你和美神一样是为得苹果而生的，或者说，和夏娃一样，是为吃苹果而生的。美是由你开始的。我刚才提到了夏娃，夏娃是你创造出来的。你有资格获得‘发明美女’的证书。呵，宠儿，我不再称您为你了。因为我要由诗歌转入散文了。刚才您谈到我的名字，您打动了我的心弦，但是无论我们是什么人，对于名字，总不宜轻信。名不一定副实。我叫做斐利克斯，但是我并不快乐。字是骗人的。我们不要盲目接受它的含义。写信到列日④去买软木塞，到波城⑤去买皮手套，那才荒唐呢。密斯⑥大丽，我如果是您的话，我就要叫做玫瑰，花应当有香味，女子应当有智慧。至于芳汀，我不打算说什么，她是一个多幻象、多梦想、多思虑、多感触的人，一个具有仙女的体态和信女的贞洁的小精灵；她失足在风流女郎的队伍里，又要在幻想中藏身，她唱歌，却又祈祷又望着天空，但又不大知道她所望的是什么，也不大知道她所作的究竟是什么，她望着天空，自以为生活在大花园里，以为到处是花和鸟，而实际上花和鸟并不多。呵，芳汀，您应当知道这一点：我，多罗米埃，我只是一种幻象，但是这位心思缥渺的黄发女郎，她并没有听见我说话！然而她有的全是光艳、趣味、青春、柔美的晨曦。呵，芳汀，您是一个值得称为白菊或明珠的姑娘，您是一个满身珠光宝气的妇女。诸位女士，还有第二个忠告：你们决不要嫁人，结婚犹如接木，效果好坏，不一定，你们不必自寻苦吃。但是，哎呀！我在这里胡说些什么？我失言了。姑娘们在配偶问题上是不可救药的。我们这些明眼人所能说的一切绝不足以防止那些做背心、做鞋子的姑娘们去梦想那些金玉满堂的良人。不管它，就是这样吧，但是，美人们，请记牢这一点：你们的糖，吃得太多了。呵，妇女们，你们只有一个错误：就是好嚼糖。呵，啮齿类的女性，你的皓齿多爱糖呵。那么，好好地听我讲、糖是一种盐。一切盐都吸收水分。糖在各种盐里有着最富于吸收水分的能力。它通过血管，把血液里的水分提出来，于是血液凝结，由凝结而凝固，而得肺结核，而死亡。因此，糖尿病常和痨病并发。因此，你们不要嚼糖就长寿了！现在我转到男子方面来。先生们，多多霸占妇女。在你们彼此之间不妨毫无顾忌地互相霸占爱人。猎艳，乱交，情场中无所谓朋友。凡是有一个漂亮女子的地方，争夺总是公开的；无分区域，大家杀个你死我活！一个漂亮女子便是一场战争的缘因，一个漂亮女子便是一场明目张胆的盗窃。历来一切的劫掠都是在亵衣上发动的。罗慕洛掳过萨宾妇人⑦，威廉掳过萨克森妇人，恺撒掳过罗马妇人。没有女子爱着的男子，总好象饿鹰那样，在别人的情妇头上翱翔。至于我，我向一切没有家室的可怜虫介绍波拿巴的《告意大利大军书》：‘兵士们，你们什么也没有。敌人却有。’” ①“现在，酒神，请喝！”原文为西班牙文Nuncte，Bacche，canam！ ②卡斯蒂利亚（Castille），在西班牙中部，十一世纪时成立王国，十五世纪时和其他几个小王国合并成为西班牙王国。 ③巴利阿里群岛（Baléares），在地中海西端，属西班牙。 ④列日（Liège），比利时城名，和“软木”（Lège）同音。 ⑤波城（Pau），法国城名，和“皮”（Peau）同音。 ⑥密斯（miss），英语，意为“小姐”。 ⑦罗慕洛（Romulus，约生于460年），西罗马帝国的最后一个皇帝（475-476）。萨宾，意大利古国名。 多罗米埃的话中断了。 “喘口气吧，多罗米埃。”勃拉什维尔说。 同时，勃拉什维尔开始唱一支悲伤的歌，李士多里和法梅依随声和着，那种歌是用从车间里信手拈来的歌词编的，音韵似乎很丰富，其实完全没有音韵；意义空虚，有如风声树影，是从烟斗的雾气中产生出来的，因此也就和雾气一同飘散消失。 下面便是那群人答复多罗米埃的演说词的一节： 几个荒唐老头子， 拿些银子交给狗腿子， 要教克雷蒙－东纳①先生， 圣约翰节坐上教皇的位子， 克雷蒙－东纳先生不能当教皇， 原来他不是教士， 狗腿子气冲冲， 送还他们的银子。 ①克雷蒙－东纳（ClemontCTonnerre），法国多菲内地区一大家族，其中最著名者一是红衣主教，一是伯爵。 那种歌并不能平息多罗米埃的随机应变的口才。他干了杯，再斟上一杯，又说起话来。 “打倒圣人！我说的话，你们全不必放在心上。我们不要清规戒律，不要束手束脚，不要谨小慎微。我要为欢乐浮一大白，让我们狂欢吧！让我们拿放荡和酒肉来补足我们的法律课。吃喝，消化。让查士丁尼①作雄的，让酒囊饭装作雌的。喜气弥漫穹苍呵！造物主！祝你长生！地球是一颗大金刚钻！我快乐。雀鸟真够劲，遍地都是盛会！黄莺儿是一个任人欣赏的艾勒维奥②。夏日，我向你致敬。呵，卢森堡，呵，夫人街和天文台路的竹枝词！呵，神魂颠倒的丘八！呵，那些看守孩子又拿孩子寻开心的漂亮女用人。如果我没有奥德翁③的长廊，我也许会喜欢美洲的草原吧。我的灵魂飞向森林中的处女地和广漠的平原。一切都是美的。青蝇在日光中营营飞舞。太阳打喷嚏打出了蜂雀。吻我吧，芳汀。” 他弄错了，吻了宠儿。 ①查士丁尼（Justinien，483-565），拜占庭皇帝，编有《法家言类纂》 （digeste）书名与“消化”（digestion）近似。 ②艾勒维奥（Elleviou），当时法国的一个著名歌唱家。 ③奥德翁（Odéon），指奥德翁戏院，一七九七年成立。

CHAPTER VIII    THE DEATH OF A HORSE Chinese "The dinners are better at Edon's than at Bombarda's," exclaimed Zephine. "I prefer Bombarda to Edon," declared Blachevelle. "There is more luxury. It is more Asiatic. Look at the room downstairs; there are mirrors [glaces] on the walls." "I prefer them [glaces, ices] on my plate," said Favourite. Blachevelle persisted:-- "Look at the knives. The handles are of silver at Bombarda's and of bone at Edon's. Now, silver is more valuable than bone." "Except for those who have a silver chin," observed Tholomyes. He was looking at the dome of the Invalides, which was visible from Bombarda's windows. A pause ensued. "Tholomyes," exclaimed Fameuil, "Listolier and I were having a discussion just now." "A discussion is a good thing," replied Tholomyes; "a quarrel is better." "We were disputing about philosophy." "Well?" "Which do you prefer, Descartes or Spinoza?" "Desaugiers," said Tholomyes. This decree pronounced, he took a drink, and went on:-- "I consent to live. All is not at an end on earth since we can still talk nonsense. For that I return thanks to the immortal gods. We lie. One lies, but one laughs. One affirms, but one doubts. The unexpected bursts forth from the syllogism. That is fine. There are still human beings here below who know how to open and close the surprise box of the paradox merrily. This, ladies, which you are drinking with so tranquil an air is Madeira wine, you must know, from the vineyard of Coural das Freiras, which is three hundred and seventeen fathoms above the level of the sea. Attention while you drink! three hundred and seventeen fathoms! and Monsieur Bombarda, the magnificent eating-house keeper, gives you those three hundred and seventeen fathoms for four francs and fifty centimes." Again Fameuil interrupted him:-- "Tholomyes, your opinions fix the law. Who is your favorite author?" "Ber--" "Quin?" "No; Choux." And Tholomyes continued:-- "Honor to Bombarda! He would equal Munophis of Elephanta if he could but get me an Indian dancing-girl, and Thygelion of Chaeronea if he could bring me a Greek courtesan; for, oh, ladies! There were Bombardas in Greece and in Egypt. Apuleius tells us of them. Alas! always the same, and nothing new; nothing more unpublished by the creator in creation! Nil sub sole novum, says Solomon; amor omnibus idem, says Virgil; and Carabine mounts with Carabin into the bark at Saint-Cloud, as Aspasia embarked with Pericles upon the fleet at Samos. One last word. Do you know what Aspasia was, ladies? Although she lived at an epoch when women had, as yet, no soul, she was a soul; a soul of a rosy and purple hue, more ardent hued than fire, fresher than the dawn. Aspasia was a creature in whom two extremes of womanhood met; she was the goddess prostitute; Socrates plus Manon Lescaut. Aspasia was created in case a mistress should be needed for Prometheus." Tholomyes, once started, would have found some difficulty in stopping, had not a horse fallen down upon the quay just at that moment. The shock caused the cart and the orator to come to a dead halt. It was a Beauceron mare, old and thin, and one fit for the knacker, which was dragging a very heavy cart. On arriving in front of Bombarda's, the worn-out, exhausted beast had refused to proceed any further. This incident attracted a crowd. Hardly had the cursing and indignant carter had time to utter with proper energy the sacramental word, Matin (the jade), backed up with a pitiless cut of the whip, when the jade fell, never to rise again. On hearing the hubbub made by the passersby, Tholomyes' merry auditors turned their heads, and Tholomyes took advantage of the opportunity to bring his allocution to a close with this melancholy strophe:-- "Elle etait de ce monde ou coucous et carrosses[3] Ont le meme destin; Et, rosse, elle a vecu ce que vivant les rosses, L'espace d'un matin!" [3] She belonged to that circle where cuckoos and carriages share the same fate; and a jade herself, she lived, as jades live, for the space of a morning (or jade). "Poor horse!" sighed Fantine. And Dahlia exclaimed:-- "There is Fantine on the point of crying over horses. How can one be such a pitiful fool as that!" At that moment Favourite, folding her arms and throwing her head back, looked resolutely at Tholomyes and said:-- "Come, now! the surprise?" "Exactly. The moment has arrived," replied Tholomyes. "Gentlemen, the hour for giving these ladies a surprise has struck. Wait for us a moment, ladies." "It begins with a kiss," said Blachevelle. "On the brow," added Tholomyes. Each gravely bestowed a kiss on his mistress's brow; then all four filed out through the door, with their fingers on their lips. Favourite clapped her hands on their departure. "It is beginning to be amusing already," said she. "Don't be too long," murmured Fantine; "we are waiting for you

八　一匹马的死 英 文 “爱同饭店比蓬巴达酒家好。”瑟芬叫着说。 “我喜欢蓬巴达胜过爱同，”勃拉什维尔说，“这里来得阔绰些，有些亚洲味儿。你们看下面的那间大厅，四面墙上都有镜子。” “我只注意盘子里的东西。”宠儿说。 勃拉什维尔一再坚持说： “你们瞧这些刀子。在蓬巴达酒家里刀柄是银的，在爱同店里是骨头的。银子当然比骨头贵重些。” “对那些装了银下巴的人来说，这话却不对。”多罗米埃说。 这时他从蓬巴达的窗口望着残废军人院的圆屋顶。 大家寂静下来。 “多罗米埃，”法梅依叫道，“刚才李士多里和我辩论了一番。” “辩论固然好，相骂更加妙。”多罗米埃回答。 “我们辩论哲学问题。” “哼。” “你喜欢笛卡儿还是斯宾诺莎①？” ①斯宾诺莎（Spinosa），十八世纪荷兰唯物主义哲学家。 “我喜欢德佐吉埃①。”多罗米埃说。 下了那判词以后，他又喝酒，接着说： “活在世上，我是同意的。世界上并不是一切都完蛋了的，既然我们还可以胡思乱想。因此我感谢永生的众神。我们说谎，但我们会发笑，我们一面肯定，但我们一面也怀疑。三段论里常出岔子。有趣。这世上究竟还有一些人能洋洋得意地从那些与众不同的见解中拿出一些特别玩意儿。诸位女士，你们安安静静喝着的那些东西是从马德拉②来的酒，你们应当知道，是古拉尔·达·弗莱拉斯地方的产品，那里超出海面三百十七个脱阿斯③！喝酒时你们应当注意这三百十七个脱阿斯！而那位漂亮的饭店老板蓬巴达凭着这三百十七个脱阿斯，却只卖你们四法郎五十生丁④！” 法梅依重行把话打断了： “多罗米埃，你的意见等于法律。哪一个作家是你所最欣赏的？” “贝尔……。” “贝尔坎⑤！” “不对，贝尔舒⑥。” ①德佐吉埃（Desaugiers），当时歌手。 ②马德拉群岛（Madère），在大西详，葡萄牙殖民地。 ③脱阿斯（toise），约等于二公尺。 ④生丁（centime），法国辅币名，等于百分之一法郎，又译“分”。 ⑤贝尔坎（Berquin，1747-1791），法国文学家。 ⑥贝尔舒Berchoux，十九世纪法国一个食谱作者。 多罗米埃又接下去说： 光荣属于蓬巴达！假使他能为我招来一个埃及舞女，他就可以和艾勒芳达的缪诺菲斯媲美；假使他能为我送来一个希腊名妓，他就可以和喀洛内的迪瑞琳媲美了！因为，呵，女士们，希腊和埃及，也有过蓬巴达呢。那是阿普列乌斯①告诉我们的。可惜世界永远是老一套，绝没有什么新东西。在造物主的创作里，再也没有什么未发表的东西，所罗门说过：‘在太阳下面没有新奇的事物。’维吉尔②说过：‘各人的爱全是一样的。’今天的男学生和女学生走上圣克鲁的篷船，正和从前亚斯巴昔和伯利克里③乘舰队去萨摩斯一样。最后一句话。诸位女士，你们知道亚斯巴昔是什么人吗？她虽然生在女子还没有灵魂的时代，她却是一个灵魂，是一个紫红色的比火更灿烂、比朝暾更鲜艳的灵魂。亚斯巴昔是个兼有女性两个极端性的人儿，她是一个神妓，是苏格拉底④和曼侬·列斯戈⑤的混合体。亚斯巴昔是为了普罗米修斯⑥需要一个尤物的原故而生的。” ①阿普列乌斯（Apulée，约123-约180），罗马作家，哲学家，《变形记》和《金驴》的作者。 ②维吉尔（Virgile，前70-19），杰出的罗马诗人。③伯利克里（Périclès，约前490一429），雅典政治家，亚斯巴昔是他的妻子。萨摩斯是他征服的一个岛。 ④苏格拉底（Socrate，约前469-399），古希腊唯心主义哲学家，奴隶主贵族思想家。 ⑤曼侬·列斯戈ManonLescaut，十八世纪法国作家普莱服所作小说《曼侬·列斯戈》中的女主角。 ⑥普罗米修斯Prométhée，希腊神话中窃火给人类的神。 假使当时没有一匹马倒在河沿上，高谈阔论的多罗米埃是难于住嘴的。由于那一冲击，那辆车子和这位高谈阔论者都一齐停下来了。一匹又老又瘦只配送给屠夫的博斯母马，拉着一辆很重的车子。那头精疲力竭的牲口走到蓬巴达的门前，不肯再走了。这件意外的事引来不少观众。一面咒骂、一面生气的车夫举起鞭子，对准目标，狠狠一鞭下去，同时嘴里骂着“贱**”时，那匹老马已倒在地上永不再起了。在行人轰动声中多罗米埃的那些愉快的听众全掉转头去看了，多罗米埃趁这机会念了这样一节忧伤的诗来结束他的演讲： 在这世界上， 小车和大车， 命运都一样； 它是匹劣马， 活得象老狗， 所以和其他劣马一样。① “怪可怜的马。”芳汀叹着说。 于是大丽叫起来了： ①有这样一首悼念幼女夭亡的古诗： Mais elle était du monde où les plus belles cnoses Ont le pire destin， Et，rose ell a vécu ce que vivent les roses， L'espace d'un matin 诗的大意是：在这世界上，最美丽的东西，命运也最坏，她是一朵玫瑰，所以和玫瑰一样，只活了一个早晨。多罗米埃把这首诗改动了几个字，用来悼念那匹死马，主要是以“驽马”rosse代“玫瑰”rose，“恶狗”（matin）代“早晨”（matin），结果这诗的内容就变成现在这个样子。 “你们瞧芳汀，她为那些马也叫屈了！有这样蠢的人！” 这时宠儿交叉起两条胳膊，仰着头，定睛望着多罗米埃说： “够了够了！还有那古怪玩意儿呢？” “正是呵。时候已经到了，”多罗米埃回答说，“诸位先生，送各位女士一件古怪玩意儿的时候已经到了。诸位女士，请等一会儿。” “先亲一个嘴。”勃拉什维尔说。 “亲额。”多罗米埃加上一句。 每个人在他情妇的额上郑重地吻了一下，四个男人鱼贯而出，都把一个手指放在嘴上。 宠儿鼓着掌，送他们出去。 “已经很有意思了。”她说。 “不要去得太久了，”芳汀低声说，“我们等着你们呢。”

CHAPTER IX    A MERRY END TO MIRTH Chinese When the young girls were left alone, they leaned two by two on the window-sills, chatting, craning out their heads, and talking from one window to the other. They saw the young men emerge from the Cafe Bombarda arm in arm. The latter turned round, made signs to them, smiled, and disappeared in that dusty Sunday throng which makes a weekly invasion into the Champs-Elysees. "Don't be long!" cried Fantine. "What are they going to bring us?" said Zephine. "It will certainly be something pretty," said Dahlia. "For my part," said Favourite, "I want it to be of gold." Their attention was soon distracted by the movements on the shore of the lake, which they could see through the branches of the large trees, and which diverted them greatly. It was the hour for the departure of the mail-coaches and diligences. Nearly all the stage-coaches for the south and west passed through the Champs-Elysees. The majority followed the quay and went through the Passy Barrier. From moment to moment, some huge vehicle, painted yellow and black, heavily loaded, noisily harnessed, rendered shapeless by trunks, tarpaulins, and valises, full of heads which immediately disappeared, rushed through the crowd with all the sparks of a forge, with dust for smoke, and an air of fury, grinding the pavements, changing all the paving-stones into steels. This uproar delighted the young girls. Favourite exclaimed:-- "What a row! One would say that it was a pile of chains flying away." It chanced that one of these vehicles, which they could only see with difficulty through the thick elms, halted for a moment, then set out again at a gallop. This surprised Fantine. "That's odd!" said she. "I thought the diligence never stopped." Favourite shrugged her shoulders. "This Fantine is surprising. I am coming to take a look at her out of curiosity. She is dazzled by the simplest things. Suppose a case: I am a traveller; I say to the diligence, `I will go on in advance; you shall pick me up on the quay as you pass.' The diligence passes, sees me, halts, and takes me. That is done every day. You do not know life, my dear." In this manner a certain time elapsed. All at once Favourite made a movement, like a person who is just waking up. "Well," said she, "and the surprise?" "Yes, by the way," joined in Dahlia, "the famous surprise?" "They are a very long time about it!" said Fantine. As Fantine concluded this sigh, the waiter who had served them at dinner entered. He held in his hand something which resembled a letter. "What is that?" demanded Favourite. The waiter replied:-- "It is a paper that those gentlemen left for these ladies." "Why did you not bring it at once?" "Because," said the waiter, "the gentlemen ordered me not to deliver it to the ladies for an hour." Favourite snatched the paper from the waiter's hand. It was, in fact, a letter. "Stop!" said she; "there is no address; but this is what is written on it--" "THIS IS THE SURPRISE." She tore the letter open hastily, opened it, and read [she knew how to read]:-- "OUR BELOVED:-- "You must know that we have parents. Parents--you do not know much about such things. They are called fathers and mothers by the civil code, which is puerile and honest. Now, these parents groan, these old folks implore us, these good men and these good women call us prodigal sons; they desire our return, and offer to kill calves for us. Being virtuous, we obey them. At the hour when you read this, five fiery horses will be bearing us to our papas and mammas. We are pulling up our stakes, as Bossuet says. We are going; we are gone. We flee in the arms of Lafitte and on the wings of Caillard. The Toulouse diligence tears us from the abyss, and the abyss is you, O our little beauties! We return to society, to duty, to respectability, at full trot, at the rate of three leagues an hour. It is necessary for the good of the country that we should be, like the rest of the world, prefects, fathers of families, rural police, and councillors of state. Venerate us. We are sacrificing ourselves. Mourn for us in haste, and replace us with speed. If this letter lacerates you, do the same by it. Adieu. "For the space of nearly two years we have made you happy. We bear you no grudge for that. "Signed: BLACHEVELLE. FAMUEIL. LISTOLIER. FELIX THOLOMYES. "Postscriptum. The dinner is paid for." The four young women looked at each other. Favourite was the first to break the silence. "Well!" she exclaimed, "it's a very pretty farce, all the same." "It is very droll," said Zephine. "That must have been Blachevelle's idea," resumed Favourite. "It makes me in love with him. No sooner is he gone than he is loved. This is an adventure, indeed." "No," said Dahlia; "it was one of Tholomyes' ideas. That is evident. "In that case," retorted Favourite, "death to Blachevelle, and long live Tholomyes!" "Long live Tholomyes!" exclaimed Dahlia and Zephine. And they burst out laughing. Fantine laughed with the rest. An hour later, when she had returned to her room, she wept. It was her first love affair, as we have said; she had given herself to this Tholomyes as to a husband, and the poor girl had a child.