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雙語·老實人 第二十二章 老實人與瑪丁在法國的遭遇

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2022年06月08日

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Chapter 22 What Happened to Candide and Martin in France

Candide stayed no longer at Bordeaux than was necessary to dispose of a few of the pebbles he had brought from El Dorado, and to provide himself with a post-chaise for two persons, for he could no longer stir a step without his philosopher Martin. The only thing that give him concern was being obliged to leave his sheep behind him, which he intrusted to the care of the Academy of Sciences at Bordeaux, who proposed, as a prize subject for the year, to prove why the wool of this sheep was red;and the prize was adjudged to a northern sage, who demonstrated by A plus B, minus C, divided by Z, that the sheep must necessarily be red, and die of the mange.

In the meantime, all travelers whom Candide met with in the inns, or on the road, told him to a man, that they were going to Paris. This general eagerness gave him likewise a great desire to see this capital;and it was not much out of his way to Venice.

He entered the city by the suburbs of Saint-Marceau, and thought himself in one of the vilest hamlets in all Westphalia.

Candide had not been long at his inn, before he was seized with a slight disorder, owing to the fatigue he had undergone. As he wore a diamond of an enormous size on his fnger and had among the rest of his equipage a strong box that seemed very weighty, he soon found himself between two physicians, whom he had not sent for, a number of intimate friends whom he had never seen, and who would not quit his bedside, and two women devotees, who were very careful in providing him hot broths.

“I remember,”said Martin to him,“that the frst time I came to Paris I was likewise taken ill. I was very poor, and accordingly I had neither friends, nurses, nor physicians, and yet I did very well.”

However, by dint of purging and bleeding, Candide's disorder became very serious. The priest of the parish came with all imaginable politeness to desire a note of him, payable to the bearer in the other world.Candide refused to comply with his request;but the two devotees assured him that it was a new fashion.Candide replied, that he was not one that followed the fashion.Martin was for throwing the priest out of the window.The clerk swore Candide should not have Christian burial.Martin swore in his turn that he would bury the clerk alive if he continued to plague them any longer.The dispute grew warm;Martin took him by the shoulders and turned him out of the room, which gave great scandal, and occasioned a proces-verbal.

Candide recovered, and till he was in a condition to go abroad had a great deal of good company to pass the evenings with him in his chamber. They played deep.Candide was surprised to find he could never turn a trick;and Martin was not at all surprised at the matter.

Among those who did him the honors of the place was a little spruce abbe of Perigord, one of those insinuating, busy, fawning, impudent, necessary fellows, that lay wait for strangers on their arrival, tell them all the scandal of the town, and offer to minister to their pleasures at various prices. This man conducted Candide and Martin to the playhouse;they were acting a new tragedy.Candide found himself placed near a cluster of wits:this, however, did not prevent him from shedding tears at some parts of the piece which were most affecting, and best acted.

One of these talkers said to him between acts,“You are greatly to blame to shed tears;that actress plays horribly, and the man that plays with her still worse, and the piece itself is still more execrable than the representation. The author does not understand a word of Arabic, and yet he has laid his scene in Arabia, and what is more, he is a fellow who does not believe in innate ideas.Tomorrow I will bring you a score of pamphlets that have been written against him.”

“Pray, sir,”said Candide to the abbe,“how many theatrical pieces have you in France?”

“Five or six thousand,”replied the abbe.

“Indeed!That is a great number,”said Candide,“but how many good ones may there be?”

“About ffteen or sixteen.”

“Oh!That is a great number,”said Martin.

Candide was greatly taken with an actress, who performed the part of Queen Elizabeth in a dull kind of tragedy that is played sometimes.

“That actress,”said he to Martin,“pleases me greatly;she has some sort of resemblance to Miss Cunegund. I should be very glad to pay my respects to her.”

The abbe of Perigord offered his service to introduce him to her at her own house. Candide, who was brought up in Germany, desired to know what might be the ceremonial used on those occasions, and how a queen of England was treated in France.

“There is a necessary distinction to be observed in these matters,”said the abbe.“In a country town we take them to a tavern;here in Paris, they are treated with great respect during their lifetime, provided they are handsome, and when they die we throw their bodies upon a dunghill.”

“How?”said Candide,“throw a queen's body upon a dunghill!”

“The gentleman is quite right,”said Martin,“he tells you nothing but the truth. I happened to be at Paris when Miss Monimia made her exit, as one may say, out of this world into another.She was refused what they call here the rites of sepulture;that is to say, she was denied the privilege of rotting in a churchyard by the side of all the beggars in the parish.They buried her at the corner of Burgundy Street, which must certainly have shocked her extremely, as she had very exalted notions of things.”

“This is acting very impolitely,”said Candide.

“Lord!”said Martin,“what can be said to it?It is the way of these people. Figure to yourself all the contradictions, all the inconsistencies possible, and you may meet with them in the government, the courts of justice, the churches, and the public spectacles of this odd nation.”

“Is it true,”said Candide,“that the people of Paris are always laughing?”

“Yes,”replied the abbe,“but it is with anger in their hearts;they express all their complaints by loud bursts of laughter, and commit the most detestable crimes with a smile on their faces.”

“Who was that great overgrown beast,”said Candide,“who spoke so ill to me of the piece with which I was so much affected, and of the players who gave me so much pleasure?”

“A very good-for-nothing sort of a man I assure you,”answered the abbe,“one who gets his livelihood by abusing every new book and play that is written or performed;he dislikes much to see anyone meet with success, like eunuchs, who detest everyone that possesses those powers they are deprived of;he is one of those vipers in literature who nourish themselves with their own venom;a pamphlet-monger.”

“A pamphlet-monger!”said Candide,“what is that?”

“Why, a pamphlet-monger,”replied the abbe,“is a writer of pamphlets—a fool.”

Candide, Martin, and the abbe of Perigord argued thus on the staircase, while they stood to see the people go out of the playhouse.

“Though I am very anxious to see Miss Cunegund again,”said Candide,“yet I have a great inclination to sup with Miss Clairon, for I am really much taken with her.”

The abbe was not a person to show his face at this lady's house, which was frequented by none but the best company.

“She is engaged this evening,”said he,“but I will do myself the honor to introduce you to a lady of quality of my acquaintance, at whose house you will see as much of the manners of Paris as if you had lived here for forty years.”

Candide, who was naturally curious, suffered himself to be conducted to this lady's house, which was in the suburbs of Saint-Honore. The company was engaged at basset;twelve melancholy punters held each in his hand a small pack of cards, the corners of which were doubled down, and were so many registers of their ill fortune.A profound silence reigned throughout the assembly, a pallid dread had taken possession of the countenances of the punters, and restless inquietude stretched every muscle of the face of him who kept the bank;and the lady of the house, who was seated next to him, observed with lynx's eyes every play made, and noted those who tallied, and made them undouble their cards with a severe exactness, though mixed with a politeness, which she thought necessary not to frighten away her customers.This lady assumed the title of Marchioness of Parolignac.Her daughter, a girl of about ffteen years of age, was one of the punters, and took care to give her mamma a hint, by signs, when any one of the players attempted to repair the rigor of their ill fortune by a little innocent deception.The company were thus occupied when Candide, Martin, and the abbe made their entrance;not a creature rose to salute them, or indeed took the least notice of them, being wholly intent upon the business at hand.

“Ah!”said Candide,“My Lady Baroness of Thunder-ten-tronckh would have behaved more civilly.”

However, the abbe whispered in the ear of the Marchioness, who half raising herself from her seat, honored Candide with a gracious smile, and gave Martin a nod of her head, with an air of inexpressible dignity. She then ordered a seat for Candide, and desired him to make one of their party at play;he did so, and in a few deals lost near a thousand pieces;after which they supped very elegantly, and everyone was surprised at seeing Candide lose so much money without appearing to be the least disturbed at it.The servants in waiting said to each other,“This is certainly some English lord.”

The supper was like most others of its kind in Paris. At frst everyone was silent;then followed a few confused murmurs, and afterwards several insipid jokes passed and repassed, with false reports, false reasonings, a little politics, and a great deal of scandal.The conversation then turned upon the new productions in literature.

“Pray,”said the abbe,“good folks, have you seen the romance written by a certain Gauchat, Doctor of Divinity?”

“Yes,”answered one of the company,“but I had not patience to go through it. The town is pestered with a swarm of impertinent productions, but this of Dr.Gauchat's outdoes them all.In short, I was so cursedly tired of reading this vile stuff that I even resolved to come here, and make a party at basset.”

“But what say you to the archdeacon T-'s miscellaneous collection,”said the abbe.

“Oh my God!”cried the Marchioness of Parolignac,“never mention the tedious creature!Only think what pains he is at to tell one things that all the world knows;and how he labors an argument that is hardly worth the slightest consideration!How absurdly he makes use of other people's wit!How miserably he mangles what he has pilfered from them!The man makes me quite sick!A few pages of the good archdeacon are enough in conscience to satisfy anyone.”

There was at the table a person of learning and taste, who supported what the Marchioness had advanced. They next began to talk of tragedies.The lady desired to know how it came about that there were several tragedies, which still continued to be played, though they would not bear reading?The man of taste explained very clearly how a piece may be in some manner interesting without having a grain of merit.He showed, in a few words, that it is not suffcient to throw together a few incidents that are to be met with in every romance, and that to dazzle the spectator the thoughts should be new, without being farfetched;frequently sublime, but always natural;the author should have a thorough knowledge of the human heart and make it speak properly;he should be a complete poet, without showing an affectation of it in any of the characters of his piece;he should be a perfect master of his language, speak it with all its purity, and with the utmost harmony, and yet so as not to make the sense a slave to the rhyme.“Whoever,”added he,“neglects any one of these rules, though he may write two or three tragedies with tolerable success, will never be reckoned in the number of good authors.There are very few good tragedies;some are idylls, in very well-written and harmonious dialogue;and others a chain of political reasonings that set one asleep, or else pompous and high-flown amplification, that disgust rather than please.Others again are the ravings of a madman, in an uncouth style, unmeaning fights, or long apostrophes to the deities, for want of knowing how to address mankind;in a word a collection of false maxims and dull commonplace.”

Candide listened to this discourse with great attention, and conceived a high opinion of the person who delivered it;and as the Marchioness had taken care to place him near her side, he took the liberty to whisper her softly in the ear and ask who this person was that spoke so well.

“He is a man of letters,”replied Her Ladyship,“who never plays, and whom the abbe brings with him to my house sometimes to spend an evening. He is a great judge of writing, especially in tragedy;he has composed one himself, which was damned, and has written a book that was never seen out of his bookseller's shop, excepting only one copy, which he sent me with a dedication, to which he had prefxed my name.”

“Oh the great man,”cried Candide,“he is a second Pangloss.”

Then turning towards him,“Sir,”said he,“you are doubtless of opinion that everything is for the best in the physical and moral world, and that nothing could be otherwise than it is?”

“I, sir!”replied the man of letters,“I think no such thing, I assure you;I find that all in this world is set the wrong end uppermost. No one knows what is his rank, his office, nor what he does, nor what he should do.With the exception of our evenings, which we generally pass tolerably merrily, the rest of our time is spent in idle disputes and quarrels, Jansenists against Molinists, the Parliament against the Church, and one armed body of men against another;courtier against courtier, husband against wife, and relations against relations.In short, this world is nothing but one continued scene of civil war.”

“Yes,”said Candide,“and I have seen worse than all that;and yet a learned man, who had the misfortune to be hanged, taught me that everything was marvelously well, and that these evils you are speaking of were only so many shades in a beautiful picture.”

“Your hempen sage,”said Martin,“l(fā)aughed at you;these shades, as you call them, are most horrible blemishes.”

“The men make these blemishes,”rejoined Candide,“and they cannot do otherwise.”

“Then it is not their fault,”added Martin.

The greatest part of the gamesters, who did not understand a syllable of this discourse, amused themselves with drinking, while Martin reasoned with the learned gentleman and Candide entertained the lady of the house with a part of his adventures.

After supper the Marchioness conducted Candide into her dressingroom, and made him sit down under a canopy.

“Well,”said she,“are you still so violently fond of Miss Cunegund of Thunder-ten-tronckh?”

“Yes, madam,”replied Candide.

The Marchioness said to him with a tender smile,“You answer me like a young man born in Westphalia;a Frenchman would have said,‘It is true, madam, I had a great passion for Miss Cunegund;but since I have seen you, I fear I can no longer love her as I did.'”

“Alas!Madam,”replied Candide,“I will make you what answer you please.”

“You fell in love with her, I find, in stooping to pick up her handkerchief which she had dropped;you shall pick up my garter.”

“With all my heart, madam,”said Candide, and he picked it up.

“But you must tie it on again,”said the lady.

Candide tied it on again.

“Look ye, young man,”said the Marchioness,“you are a stranger;I make some of my lovers here in Paris languish for me a whole fortnight;but I surrender to you at frst sight, because I am willing to do the honors of my country to a young Westphalian.”

The fair one having cast her eye on two very large diamonds that were upon the young stranger's finger, praised them in so earnest a manner that they were in an instant transferred from his fnger to hers.

As Candide was going home with the abbe he felt some qualms of conscience for having been guilty of infdelity to Miss Cunegund. The abbe took part with him in his uneasiness;he had but an inconsiderable share in the thousand pieces Candide had lost at play, and the two diamonds which had been in a manner extorted from him;and therefore very prudently designed to make the most he could of his new acquaintance, which chance had thrown in his way.He talked much of Miss Cunegund, and Candide assured him that he would heartily ask pardon of that fair one for his infdelity to her, when he saw her at Venice.

The abbe redoubled his civilities and seemed to interest himself warmly in everything that Candide said, did, or seemed inclined to do.

“And so, sir, you have an engagement at Venice?”

“Yes, Monsieur l'Abbe,”answered Candide,“I must absolutely wait upon Miss Cunegund,”and then the pleasure he took in talking about the object he loved, led him insensibly to relate, according to custom, part of his adventures with that illustrious Westphalian beauty.

“I fancy,”said the abbe,“Miss Cunegund has a great deal of wit, and that her letters must be very entertaining.”

“I never received any from her,”said Candide;“for you are to consider that, being expelled from the castle upon her account, I could not write to her, especially as soon after my departure I heard she was dead;but thank God I found afterwards she was living. I left her again after this, and now I have sent a messenger to her near two thousand leagues from here, and wait here for his return with an answer from her.”

The artful abbe let not a word of all this escape him, though he seemed to be musing upon something else. He soon took his leave of the two adventurers, after having embraced them with the greatest cordiality.

The next morning, almost as soon as his eyes were open, Candide received the following billet:

“My Dearest Lover—I have been ill in this city these eight days. I have heard of your arrival, and should fy to your arms were I able to stir.I was informed of your being on the way hither at Bordeaux, where I left the faithful Cacambo, and the old woman, who will soon follow me.The Governor of Buenos Ayres has taken everything from me but your heart, which I still retain.Come to me immediately on the receipt of this.Your presence will either give me new life, or kill me with the pleasure.”

At the receipt of this charming, this unexpected letter, Candide felt the utmost transports of joy;though, on the other hand, the indisposition of his beloved Miss Cunegund overwhelmed him with grief. Distracted between these two passions he took his gold and his diamonds, and procured a person to conduct him and Martin to the house where Miss Cunegund lodged.Upon entering the room he felt his limbs tremble, his heart flutter, his tongue falter;he attempted to undraw the curtain, and called for a light to the bedside.

“Lord sir,”cried a maidservant, who was waiting in the room,“take care what you do, Miss cannot bear the least light,”and so saying she pulled the curtain close again.

“Cunegund!My dear!”cried Candide, bathed in tears,“how do you do?If you cannot bear the light, speak to me at least.”

“Alas!She cannot speak,”said the maid.

The sick lady then put a plump hand out of the bed and Candide frst bathed it with tears, then flled it with diamonds, leaving a purse of gold upon the easy chair.

In the midst of his transports came an offcer into the room, followed by the abbe, and a fle of musketeers.

“There,”said he,“are the two suspected foreigners.”At the same time he ordered them to be seized and carried to prison.

“Travelers are not treated in this manner in the country of El Dorado,”said Candide.

“I am more of a Manichaean now than ever,”said Martin.

“But pray, good sir, where are you going to carry us?”said Candide.

“To a dungeon, my dear sir,”replied the offcer.

When Martin had a little recovered himself, so as to form a cool judgment of what had passed, he plainly perceived that the person who had acted the part of Miss Cunegund was a cheat;that the abbe of Perigord was a sharper who had imposed upon the honest simplicity of Candide, and that the offcer was a knave, whom they might easily get rid of.

Candide following the advice of his friend Martin, and burning with impatience to see the real Miss Cunegund, rather than be obliged to appear at a court of justice, proposed to the offcer to make him a present of three small diamonds, each of them worth three thousand pistoles.

“Ah, sir,”said the understrapper of justice,“had you commited ever so much villainy, this would render you the honestest man living, in my eyes. Three diamonds worth three thousand pistoles!Why, my dear sir, so far from carrying you to jail, I would lose my life to serve you.There are orders for stopping all strangers;but leave it to me, I have a brother at Dieppe, in Normandy.I myself will conduct you thither, and if you have a diamond left to give him he will take as much care of you as I myself should.”

“But why,”said Candide,“do they stop all strangers?”

The abbe of Perigord made answer that it was because a poor devil of the country of Atrebata heard somebody tell foolish stories, and this induced him to commit a parricide;not such a one as that in the month of May,1610,but such as that in the month of December in the year 1594,and such as many that have been perpetrated in other months and years, by other poor devils who had heard foolish stories.

The offcer then explained to them what the abbe meant.

“Horrid monsters,”exclaimed Candide,“is it possible that such scenes should pass among a people who are perpetually singing and dancing?Is there no flying this abominable country immediately, this execrable kingdom where monkeys provoke tigers?I have seen bears in my country, but men I have beheld nowhere but in El Dorado. In the name of God, sir,”said he to the offcer,“do me the kindness to conduct me to Venice, where I am to wait for Miss Cunegund.”

“Really, sir,”replied the officer,“I cannot possibly wait on you farther than Lower Normandy.”

So saying, he ordered Candide's irons to be struck off, acknowledged himself mistaken, and sent his followers about their business, after which he conducted Candide and Martin to Dieppe, and left them to the care of his brother.

There happened just then to be a small Dutch ship in the harbor. The Norman, whom the other three diamonds had converted into the most obliging, serviceable being that ever breathed, took care to see Candide and his attendants safe on board this vessel, that was just ready to sail for Portsmouth in England.This was not the nearest way to Venice, indeed, but Candide thought himself escaped out of Hell, and did not, in the least, doubt but he should quickly fnd an opportunity of resuming his voyage to Venice.

第二十二章 老實人與瑪丁在法國的遭遇

老實人在波爾多辦了幾件事就走了。他在當(dāng)?shù)刭u掉幾塊黃金國的石子,包定一輛舒服的雙人座的驛車,因為他和哲學(xué)家瑪丁成了形影不離的好友。他不得不把綿羊忍痛割愛,送給波爾多的科學(xué)院;科學(xué)院拿這頭羊作為當(dāng)年度懸賞征文的題目,要人研究為什么這頭羊的毛是紅的。得獎的是一個北方學(xué)者,他用A加B,減C,用Z除的算式,證明這頭羊應(yīng)當(dāng)長紅毛,也應(yīng)當(dāng)害皰瘡[39]而死。

可是,老實人一路在酒店里遇到的旅客都告訴他:“我們上巴黎去。”那股爭先恐后的勁,終于打動了老實人的興致,他也想上京城去觀光一番了;好在繞道巴黎到佛尼市,并沒有多少冤枉路。

他從圣·瑪梭城關(guān)進(jìn)城,當(dāng)下竟以為到了威斯發(fā)里省內(nèi)一個最骯臟的村子。

老實人路上辛苦了些,一落客店便害了一場小病。因為他手上戴著一只其大無比的鉆戒,行李中又有一口重得非凡的小銀箱,所以立刻來了兩名自告奮勇的醫(yī)生,幾位寸步不離的好友,兩個替他燒湯煮水的虔婆。

瑪丁說:“記得我第一次到巴黎也害過??;我窮得很,所以既沒有朋友,也沒有虔婆,也沒有醫(yī)生;結(jié)果我病好了?!?/p>

又是吃藥,又是放血,老實人的病反而重了。一個街坊上的熟客,挺和氣地來問他要一份上他世界去的通行證[40]。老實人置之不理;兩位虔婆說這是新時行的規(guī)矩。老實人回答,他不是一個時髦人物。瑪丁差點兒把來客摔出窗外。教士賭咒說,老實人死了,決不給他埋葬?,敹≠€咒說,他倒預(yù)備埋葬教士,要是教士再糾纏不清。你言我語,越吵越兇?,敹∽ブ淌康募绨?,使勁攆了出去。這事鬧得沸沸揚揚,連警察局都動了公事。

老實人復(fù)原了,養(yǎng)病期間,頗有些上流人士來陪他吃晚飯,另外還賭錢,輸贏很大。老實人從來抓不到愛司[41],覺得莫名其妙;瑪丁卻不以為怪。

老實人的向?qū)е虚g,有個矮小的班里戈登神父。巴黎不少像他那樣殷勤的人,老是機靈乖巧,和藹可親,面皮既厚,說話又甜,極會趨奉人,專門巴結(jié)過路的外國人,替他們講些本地的丑聞秘史,幫他們花大價錢去尋歡作樂。這位班里戈登神父先帶老實人和瑪丁去看戲。那日演的是一出新編的悲劇。老實人座位四周都是些才子;但他看到表演精彩的幾幕,仍禁不住哭了。

休息期間,旁邊有位辯士和他說:“你落眼淚真是大錯特錯了:這女戲子演得很糟,搭配的男戲子比她更糟,劇本比戲子還要糟。劇情明明發(fā)生在阿拉伯,劇作者卻不懂一句阿拉伯文;并且他不信先天觀念論[42]。明天我?guī)Ф竟羲男宰咏o你看?!?/p>

老實人問神父:“先生,法國每年有多少本新戲?”

“五六千本?!?/p>

老實人說:“那很多了,其中有幾本好的呢?”

神父道:“十五六本?!?/p>

瑪丁接著道:“那很多了?!?/p>

有一位女戲子,在一出偶爾還上演的、平凡的悲劇中,串伊麗莎白王后,老實人看了很中意,對瑪丁道:“我很喜歡這演員,她頗像居內(nèi)貢小姐;倘使能去拜訪她一次,倒也是件樂事?!?/p>

班里戈登神父自告奮勇,答應(yīng)陪他去。老實人是從小受的德國教育,便請問當(dāng)?shù)氐陌菀娭Y,不知在法國應(yīng)當(dāng)怎樣對待英國王后。

神父說:“那要看地方而定。在內(nèi)地呢,帶她們上酒店;在巴黎,要是她們相貌漂亮,大家便恭而敬之,死了把她們摔在垃圾堆上?!盵43]

老實人嚷起來:“怎么,把王后摔在垃圾堆上!”

瑪丁接口道:“是的,神父說得一點兒不錯。從前莫尼末小姐,像大家說的從此世界轉(zhuǎn)到他世界去的時候,我正在巴黎;那時一般人不許她享受所謂喪葬之禮,所謂喪葬之禮,是讓死人跟街坊上所有的小子,躺在一個丑惡不堪的公墓里一同腐爛;莫尼末小姐只能孤零零地埋在蒲高涅街的轉(zhuǎn)角上;她的英魂一定因此傷心透頂?shù)?,因為她生前思想很高尚。?/p>

老實人道:“那太沒禮貌了?!?/p>

瑪丁道:“有什么辦法!這兒的人便是這樣。在這個荒唐的國內(nèi),不論是政府、法院、教堂、舞臺,凡是你想象得到的矛盾都應(yīng)有盡有。”

老實人問:“巴黎人是不是老是嘻嘻哈哈的?”

神父回答:“是的。他們一邊笑,一邊生氣;他們對什么都不滿意,而抱怨訴苦也用打哈哈的方式;他們甚至一邊笑一邊干著最下流的事?!?/p>

老實人又道:“那混賬的胖子是誰?我為之感動下淚的劇本,我極喜歡的演員,他都罵得一文不值?!?/p>

“那是個無恥小人,所有的劇本,所有的書籍,他都要毀謗;他是靠此為生的。誰要有點兒成功,他就咬牙切齒,好比太監(jiān)怨恨作樂的人;那是文壇上的毒蛇,把兇狠仇恨做糧食的;他是個報屁股作家?!?/p>

“什么叫作報屁股作家?”

“專門糟蹋紙張的,所謂弗萊隆[44]之流?!鄙窀富卮稹?/p>

成群的看客涌出戲院;老實人、瑪丁、班里戈登卻在樓梯高頭大發(fā)議論。

老實人道:“雖則我急于跟居內(nèi)貢小姐相會,倒也很想和格蘭龍小姐吃頓飯;我覺得她真了不起。”

格蘭龍小姐只招待上等人,神父沒資格接近。他說:“今天晚上她有約會;但是我可以帶你去見一位有身份的太太,你在她府上見識了巴黎,就賽過在巴黎住了四年?!?/p>

老實人天性好奇,便跟他到一位太太府上,坐落在圣·奧諾雷城關(guān)的盡里頭,有人在那兒賭法老[45]:十二個愁眉不展的賭客各自拿著一疊牌,好比一本登記他們噩運的賬冊。屋內(nèi)鴉雀無聲,賭客臉上暗淡無光,莊家臉上焦急不安,女主人坐在鐵面無情的莊家身邊,用尖利的眼睛瞅著賭客的加碼;誰要把紙牌折個小角兒,她就教他們把紙角展開,神色嚴(yán)厲,態(tài)度卻很好,決不因之生氣,唯恐得罪了主顧。那太太自稱為特·巴洛里涅侯爵夫人。她的女兒十五歲,也是賭客之一;眾人為了補救牌運而做的手腳,她都眨著眼睛做報告。班里戈登神父、老實人和瑪丁走進(jìn)屋子,一個人也沒站起來,一個人也沒打招呼,甚至瞧都不瞧一眼;大家一心都在牌上。

老實人說:“哼,森特—登—脫龍克男爵夫人還比他們客氣一些?!?/p>

神父湊著侯爵夫人耳朵說了幾句,她便略微抬了抬身子,對老實人嫣然一笑,對瑪丁很莊嚴(yán)地點點頭,教人端一張椅子,遞一副牌給老實人。玩了兩局,老實人輸了五萬法郎。然后大家一團(tuán)高興地坐下吃晚飯。在場的人都奇怪老實人輸了錢毫不介意,當(dāng)差們用當(dāng)差的俗談,彼此說著:“他準(zhǔn)是一位英國的爵爺?!?/p>

和巴黎多數(shù)的飯局一樣,桌上先是靜悄悄的,繼而你一句我一句,誰也聽不清誰;最后是說笑打諢,無非是沒有風(fēng)趣的笑話、無稽的謠言、荒謬的議論,略為談幾句政治,缺德話說上一大堆。也有人提到新出的書。

班里戈登神父問道:“神學(xué)博士谷夏先生的小說,你們看到?jīng)]有?”

一位客人回答:“看到了,只是沒法念完?;奶频淖髌?,咱們有的是;可是把全體壞作品加起來,還及不上神學(xué)博士谷夏的荒唐。這一類惡劣的書泛濫市場,像洪水一般,我受不了,寧可到這兒來賭法老的?!?/p>

神父說:“教長T某某寫的隨筆,你覺得怎么樣?”

巴洛里涅太太插嘴道:“噢!那個可厭的俗物嗎?他把老生常談?wù)f得非常新奇;把不值一提的東西討論得酸氣沖天;剽竊別人的才智,手段又笨拙透頂,簡直是點金成鐵!他教我討厭死了!可是好啦,現(xiàn)在用不著我討厭了,教長的大作只要翻過幾頁就夠了?!?/p>

桌上有位風(fēng)雅的學(xué)者,贊成侯爵夫人的意見。接著大家談到悲??;女主人問,為什么有些悲劇還能不時上演,可是劇本念不下去。那位風(fēng)雅的人物,把一本戲可能還有趣味而毫無價值的道理,頭頭是道地解釋了一番。他很簡括地說明,單單拿每部小說都有的、能吸引觀眾的一二情節(jié)搬進(jìn)戲文,是不夠的,還得新奇而不荒唐,常常有些崇高的境界而始終很自然,識透人的心而教這顆心講話,劇作者必須是個大詩人而劇中并不顯得有一個詩人;深得語言三昧,文字精練,從頭至尾音韻鏗鏘,但決不讓韻腳妨礙意義。他又補充說:“誰要不嚴(yán)格遵守這些規(guī)則,他可能寫出一兩部悲劇博得觀眾掌聲,卻永遠(yuǎn)算不得一個好作家。完美的悲劇太少了。有些是文字寫得不差,韻押得很恰當(dāng)?shù)哪粮?;有些是教人昏昏欲睡的政論,或者是令人作惡的夸張;又有些是文理不通、中了邪魔的夢囈;再不然是東拉西扯,因為不會跟人講話,便長篇大論地向神道大聲疾呼;還有似是而非的格言,張大其辭的陳言俗套?!?/p>

老實人聚精會神地聽著,以為那演說家著實了不起。既然侯爵大人特意讓他坐在身旁,他便湊到女主人耳畔,大著膽子問,這位能言善辯的先生是何等人物。她回答說:“他是一位學(xué)者,從來不入局賭錢,不時由神父帶來吃頓飯的。他對于悲劇和書本非常內(nèi)行;自己也寫過一出悲劇,被人大喝倒彩;也寫過一部書,除掉題贈給我的一本之外,外邊從來沒有人看到過?!?/p>

老實人道:“原來是個大人物!不愧為邦葛羅斯第二?!?/p>

于是他轉(zhuǎn)過身去,朝著學(xué)者說道:“先生,你大概認(rèn)為物質(zhì)世界和精神領(lǐng)域都十全十美,一切都是不能更改的吧?”

學(xué)者答道:“我才不這么想呢;我覺得我們這里一切都倒行逆施;沒有一個人知道他自己的身份,自己的責(zé)任,知道他做些什么,應(yīng)當(dāng)做什么;除了在飯桌上還算痛快,還算團(tuán)結(jié)以外,其余的時候大家都喧呶爭辯,無理取鬧:揚山尼派攻擊莫利尼派[46],司法界攻擊教會,文人攻擊文人,幸臣攻擊幸臣,金融家攻擊老百姓,妻子攻擊丈夫,親戚攻擊親戚;簡直是一場無休無歇的戰(zhàn)爭?!?/p>

老實人回答說:“我見過的事比這個惡劣多呢;可是有位倒了霉被吊死的哲人,告訴我這些都十全十美,都是一幅美麗的圖畫的影子?!?/p>

瑪丁道:“你那吊死鬼簡直是嘲笑我們;你所謂影子其實是丑惡的污點。”

老實人說:“污點是人涂上去的,他們也是迫不得已?!?/p>

瑪丁道:“那就不能怪他們了?!?/p>

大半的賭客完全不懂他們的話,只顧喝酒;瑪丁只管和學(xué)者辯論,老實人對主婦講了一部分自己的經(jīng)歷。

吃過晚飯,侯爵夫人把老實人帶到小房間里,讓他坐在一張長沙發(fā)上,問道:“喂,這么說來,你是一往情深,永遠(yuǎn)愛著居內(nèi)貢小姐了?”

“是的。”老實人回答。

侯爵夫人對他很溫柔地一笑,說:“你這么回答,表示你真是一個威斯發(fā)里的青年;換了一個法國人,一定說:‘我果然愛居內(nèi)貢小姐;可是見了你,太太,我恐怕要不愛她了?!?/p>

老實人說:“好吧,太太,你要我怎樣回答都行?!?/p>

侯爵夫人又道:“你替居內(nèi)貢小姐撿了手帕才動情的;現(xiàn)在我要你替我撿吊襪帶?!?/p>

“敢不遵命。”老實人說著,便撿了吊襪帶。

那太太說:“我還要你替我扣上去?!?/p>

老實人就替她扣上了。

太太說:“你瞧,你是個外國人;我常常教那些巴黎的情人害上半個月的相思病,可是我第一夜就向你投降了,因為對一個威斯發(fā)里的年輕人,我們應(yīng)當(dāng)竭誠招待?!?/p>

美人看見外國青年兩手戴著兩只大鉆戒,不由得贊不絕口;臨了兩只鉆戒從老實人手上過渡到了侯爵夫人手上。

老實人做了對不起居內(nèi)貢小姐的事,和班里戈登神父一路回去,一路覺得良心不安:神父對他的痛苦極表同情。老實人在賭臺上輸?shù)奈迦f法郎和兩只半送半騙的鉆戒,神父只分潤到一個小數(shù)目;他存心要利用結(jié)交老實人的機會,盡量撈一筆,便和他大談其居內(nèi)貢。老實人對他說,將來在佛尼市見了愛人,一定要求她饒恕他的不忠實。

班里戈登變得格外恭敬、格外體貼了,老實人說什么,做什么,打算做什么,神父都表示熱心和關(guān)切。

他問老實人:“那么先生,你是在佛尼市有約會了?”

老實人答道:“是啊,神父,我非到佛尼市去跟居內(nèi)貢小姐相會不可?!彼芴岬綈廴苏媸翘吲d了,所以憑著心直口快的老脾氣,把自己和大名鼎鼎的威斯發(fā)里美人的情史講了一部分。

神父說:“大概居內(nèi)貢小姐極有才氣,寫的信也十分動人吧?”

老實人道:“我從來沒收到過;你想,我為了鐘情于她而被趕出爵府的時候,我不能寫信給她;不久聽說她死了,接著又和她相會,又和她分手;最后我在離此一萬多里的地方,派了一個當(dāng)差去接她?!?/p>

神父留神聽著,若有所思。不一會他和兩個外國人親熱地?fù)肀Я艘幌拢孓o了。第二天,老實人睜開眼來就收到一封信,措辭是這樣的:

“我最親愛的情人,我病在此地已有八天了;聽說你也在城中。要是我能動彈,早已飛到你懷抱里來了。我知道你路過波爾多;我把忠心的加剛菩和老婆子留在那邊,讓他們隨后趕來。布韋諾斯·愛累斯總督把所有的寶物都拿去了,可是我

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