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悲惨世界|Les Miserables

Part 1 Book 3 Chapter 4 Tholomyes is so Merry that he sings a Spanish Ditty

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 维克多-雨果] 阅读：[104447]
Part 1 Book 3 Chapter 4 Tholomyes is so Merry that he sings a Spanish Ditty
19世纪30年代的法国。富人乘坐马车，用金餐具吃喝。穷人没有工作，没有食物，没有希望——他们是穷苦人，起义一触即发。法国人民还记得1789年的法国大革命。当时，民众在巴黎街头筑起街垒，死去的人数以千计。这样的时刻又要到来了吗? 这是冉阿让的故事。他坐了19年的牢，终于恢复了自由身。可是，他怎么生活，到哪里去找工作呢?像他这样一个人，还有什么希望呢?这也是沙威的故事，他是一个督察，一个残忍的人，一个冷酷的人。他的人生只有一个目标——把冉阿让再次送进大牢。这还是芳汀的故事，芳汀和她的女儿珂赛特。她们的故事是怎样改变了冉阿让的一生?这也是马吕斯的故事。他是巴黎的一名学生，做好了为起义而牺牲的准备——或是为爱情而死。最后，还有伽弗洛什——一个在巴黎街头流浪的孩子，他没有家，没有亲人，没有鞋穿……可他的脸上总是挂着笑容，心中总是有歌儿在欢唱。
不过，我们要先从冉阿让讲起……
France in the 1830s. The rich ride in carriages, and eat from gold plates. The poor have no work, no food, no hope – they are Les Misérables, and rebellion is in the air. France remembers the French Revolution in 1789, when the people built barricades in the streets of Paris, and the dead were counted in thousands. Is that time coming again?
This is the story of Jean Valjean. A prisoner for nineteen years, now at last he is a free man. But how can he live, where can he find work? What hope is there for a man like him? It is also the story of Javert, a police inspector, a cruel man, a hard man. He wants one thing in life – to send Valjean back to prison. And it is Fantine’s story too, Fantine and her daughter Cosette. How does their story change Valjean’s life? And it is also Marius’s story. He is a student in Paris, ready to die for the rebellion – or for love. And last, there is Gavroche – a boy of the Paris streets, with no home, no family, no shoes... But a boy with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.
But we begin with Jean Valjean...
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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。

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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。

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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。”

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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。

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①华托（Watteau，1684-1721），法国画家。

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②朗克雷（Lancret，1690-1743），法国画家。

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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。

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④杜尔非（dAUrfé，1567-1625），法国小说家。

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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。

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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：

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我来自巴达霍斯，

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受了情魔的驱使，

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我全部的灵魂

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都在我的眼里。

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为什么

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要露出你的腿。

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①普利阿普斯（Priape），园艺、畜牧、生育之神。

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②杜卡莱（Turcaret），十八世纪初法国喜剧家勒萨日（Lesage）所作喜剧中

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的主人公，原是仆人，经过欺诈钻营，成了巨富。

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③戈洛治（Greuze，1725-1805），法国画家。

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只有芳汀一个人不肯打秋千。

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“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。

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①俄罗斯山，一种供人游戏的蜿蜒起伏的架空铁道。

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宠儿不时喊道：

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“还有那新鲜玩意呢？我要那新鲜玩意儿。”

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“不用急。”多罗米埃回答。

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That day was composed of dawn, from one end to the other. All nature seemed to be having a holiday, and to be laughing. The flower-beds of Saint-Cloud perfumed the air; the breath of the Seine rustled the leaves vaguely; the branches gesticulated in the wind, bees pillaged the jasmines; a whole bohemia of butterflies swooped down upon the yarrow, the clover, and the sterile oats; in the august park of the King of France there was a pack of vagabonds, the birds.

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The four merry couples, mingled with the sun, the fields, the flowers, the trees, were resplendent.

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And in this community of Paradise, talking, singing, running, dancing, chasing butterflies, plucking convolvulus, wetting their pink, open-work stockings in the tall grass, fresh, wild, without malice, all received, to some extent, the kisses of all, with the exception of Fantine, who was hedged about with that vague resistance of hers composed of dreaminess and wildness, and who was in love. "You always have a queer look about you," said Favourite to her.

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Such things are joys. These passages of happy couples are a profound appeal to life and nature, and make a caress and light spring forth from everything. There was once a fairy who created the fields and forests expressly for those in love,--in that eternal hedge-school of lovers, which is forever beginning anew, and which will last as long as there are hedges and scholars. Hence the popularity of spring among thinkers. The patrician and the knife-grinder, the duke and the peer, the limb of the law, the courtiers and townspeople, as they used to say in olden times, all are subjects of this fairy. They laugh and hunt, and there is in the air the brilliance of an apotheosis--what a transfiguration effected by love! Notaries’ clerks are gods. And the little cries, the pursuits through the grass, the waists embraced on the fly, those jargons which are melodies, those adorations which burst forth in the manner of pronouncing a syllable, those cherries torn from one mouth by another,--all this blazes forth and takes its place among the celestial glories. Beautiful women waste themselves sweetly. They think that this will never come to an end. Philosophers, poets, painters, observe these ecstasies and know not what to make of it, so greatly are they dazzled by it. The departure for Cythera! exclaims Watteau; Lancret, the painter of plebeians, contemplates his bourgeois, who have flitted away into the azure sky; Diderot stretches out his arms to all these love idyls, and d’Urfe mingles druids with them.

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After breakfast the four couples went to what was then called the King’s Square to see a newly arrived plant from India, whose name escapes our memory at this moment, and which, at that epoch, was attracting all Paris to Saint-Cloud. It was an odd and charming shrub with a long stem, whose numerous branches, bristling and leafless and as fine as threads, were covered with a million tiny white rosettes; this gave the shrub the air of a head of hair studded with flowers. There was always an admiring crowd about it.

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After viewing the shrub, Tholomyes exclaimed, "I offer you asses!" and having agreed upon a price with the owner of the asses, they returned by way of Vanvres and Issy. At Issy an incident occurred. The truly national park, at that time owned by Bourguin the contractor, happened to be wide open. They passed the gates, visited the manikin anchorite in his grotto, tried the mysterious little effects of the famous cabinet of mirrors, the wanton trap worthy of a satyr become a millionaire or of Turcaret metamorphosed into a Priapus. They had stoutly shaken the swing attached to the two chestnut-trees celebrated by the Abbe de Bernis. As he swung these beauties, one after the other, producing folds in the fluttering skirts which Greuze would have found to his taste, amid peals of laughter, the Toulousan Tholomyes, who was somewhat of a Spaniard, Toulouse being the cousin of Tolosa, sang, to a melancholy chant, the old ballad gallega, probably inspired by some lovely maid dashing in full flight upon a rope between two trees:--

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"Soy de Badajoz,   "Badajoz is my home,

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Amor me llama,     And Love is my name;

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Toda mi alma,      To my eyes in flame,

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Es en mi ojos,     All my soul doth come;

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Porque ensenas,    For instruction meet A tuas piernas.    I receive at thy feet"

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Fantine alone refused to swing.

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"I don’t like to have people put on airs like that," muttered Favourite, with a good deal of acrimony.

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After leaving the asses there was a fresh delight; they crossed the Seine in a boat, and proceeding from Passy on foot they reached the barrier of l’Etoile. They had been up since five o’clock that morning, as the reader will remember; but bah! there is no such thing as fatigue on Sunday, said Favourite; on Sunday fatigue does not work.

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About three o’clock the four couples, frightened at their happiness, were sliding down the Russian mountains, a singular edifice which then occupied the heights of Beaujon, and whose undulating line was visible above the trees of the Champs Elysees.

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From time to time Favourite exclaimed:--

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"And the surprise? I claim the surprise."

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"Patience," replied Tholomyes.

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