姐,51。。。
轻松的小说阅读环境
Site Manager
巴黎圣母院英文版 - BOOK FIRST CHAPTER II.PIERRE GRINGOIRE.
繁体
恢复默认
返回目录【键盘操作】左右光标键:上下章节;回车键:目录;双击鼠标:停止/启动自动滚动;滚动时上下光标键调节滚动速度。
  Nevertheless, as be harangued them, the satisfaction and admiration unanimously excited by his costume were dissipated by his words; and when he reached that untoward conclusion: "As soon as his illustrious eminence, the cardinal, arrives, we will begin," his voice was drowned in a thunder of hooting."Begin instantly!The mystery! the mystery immediately!" shrieked the people.And above all the voices, that of Johannes de Molendino was audible, piercing the uproar like the fife's derisive serenade: "Commence instantly!" yelped the scholar."Down with Jupiter and the Cardinal de Bourbon!" vociferated Robin poussepain and the other clerks perched in the window."The morality this very instant!" repeated the crowd; "this very instant! the sack and the rope for the comedians, and the cardinal!"poor Jupiter, haggard, frightened, pale beneath his rouge, dropped his thunderbolt, took his cap in his hand; then he bowed and trembled and stammered: "His eminence--the ambassadors--Madame Marguerite of Flanders--."He did not know what to say.In truth, he was afraid of being hung.Hung by the populace for waiting, hung by the cardinal for not having waited, he saw between the two dilemmas only an abyss; that is to say, a gallows.Luckily, some one came to rescue him from his embarrassment, and assume the responsibility.An individual who was standing beyond the railing, in the free space around the marble table, and whom no one had yet caught sight of, since his long, thin body was completely sheltered from every visual ray by the diameter of the pillar against which he was leaning; this individual, we say, tall, gaunt, pallid, blond, still young, although already wrinkled about the brow and cheeks, with brilliant eyes and a smiling mouth, clad in garments of black serge, worn and shining with age, approached the marble table, and made a sign to the poor sufferer.But the other was so confused that he did not see him.The new comer advanced another step."Jupiter," said he, "my dear Jupiter!"The other did not hear.At last, the tall blond, driven out of patience, shrieked almost in his face,--"Michel Giborne!""Who calls me?" said Jupiter, as though awakened with a start."I," replied the person clad in black."Ah!" said Jupiter."Begin at once," went on the other."Satisfy the populace; I undertake to appease the bailiff, who will appease monsieur the cardinal."Jupiter breathed once more."Messeigneurs the bourgeois," he cried, at the top of his lungs to the crowd, which continued to hoot him, "we are going to begin at once.""~Evoe Jupiter!plaudite cives~!All hail, Jupiter!Applaud, citizens!" shouted the scholars."Noel!Noel! good, good," shouted the people.The hand clapping was deafening, and Jupiter had already withdrawn under his tapestry, while the hall still trembled with acclamations.In the meanwhile, the personage who had so magically turned the tempest into dead calm, as our old and dear Corneille puts it, had modestly retreated to the half-shadow of his pillar, and would, no doubt, have remained invisible there, motionless, and mute as before, had he not been plucked by the sleeve by two young women, who, standing in the front row of the spectators, had noticed his colloquy with Michel Giborne-Jupiter."Master," said one of them, making him a sign to approach. "Hold your tongue, my dear Liénarde," said her neighbor, pretty, fresh, and very brave, in consequence of being dressed up in her best attire."He is not a clerk, he is a layman; you must not say master to him, but messire.""Messire," said Liénarde.The stranger approached the railing."What would you have of me, damsels?" he asked, with alacrity."Oh! nothing," replied Liénarde, in great confusion; "it is my neighbor, Gisquette la Gencienne, who wishes to speak with you.""Not so," replied Gisquette, blushing; "it was Liénarde who called you master; I only told her to say messire."The two young girls dropped their eyes.The man, who asked nothing better than to enter into conversation, looked at them with a smile."So you have nothing to say to me, damsels?""Oh! nothing at all," replied Gisquette."Nothing," said Liénarde.The tall, light-haired young man retreated a step; but the two curious maidens had no mind to let slip their prize."Messire," said Gisquette, with the impetuosity of an open sluice, or of a woman who has made up her mind, "do you know that soldier who is to play the part of Madame the Virgin in the mystery?""You mean the part of Jupiter?" replied the stranger."Hé! yes," said Liénarde, "isn't she stupid?So you know Jupiter?""Michel Giborne?" replied the unknown; "yes, madam.""He has a fine beard!" said Liénarde."Will what they are about to say here be fine?" inquired Gisquette, timidly."Very fine, mademoiselle," replied the unknown, without the slightest hesitation."What is it to be?" said Liénarde."'The Good Judgment of Madame the Virgin,'--a morality, if you please, damsel.""Ah! that makes a difference," responded Liénarde.A brief silence ensued--broken by the stranger."It is a perfectly new morality, and one which has never yet been played.""Then it is not the same one," said Gisquette, "that was given two years ago, on the day of the entrance of monsieur the legate, and where three handsome maids played the parts--""Of sirens," said Liénarde."And all naked," added the young man.Liénarde lowered her eyes modestly.Gisquette glanced at her and did the same.He continued, with a smile,--"It was a very pleasant thing to see.To-day it is a morality made expressly for Madame the Demoiselle of Flanders.""Will they sing shepherd songs?" inquired Gisquette."Fie!" said the stranger, "in a morality? you must not confound styles.If it were a farce, well and good.""That is a pity," resumed Gisquette."That day, at the ponceau Fountain, there were wild men and women, who fought and assumed many aspects, as they sang little motets and bergerettes.""That which is suitable for a legate," returned the stranger, with a good deal of dryness, "is not suitable for a princess.""And beside them," resumed Liénarde, "played many brass instruments, making great melodies.""And for the refreshment of the passers-by," continued Gisquette, "the fountain spouted through three mouths, wine, milk, and hippocrass, of which every one drank who wished.""And a little below the ponceau, at the Trinity," pursued Liénarde, "there was a passion performed, and without any speaking.""How well I remember that!" exclaimed Gisquette; "God on the cross, and the two thieves on the right and the left." Here the young gossips, growing warm at the memory of the entrance of monsieur the legate, both began to talk at once."And, further on, at the painters' Gate, there were other personages, very richly clad.""And at the fountain of Saint-Innocent, that huntsman, who was chasing a hind with great clamor of dogs and hunting-horns.""And, at the paris slaughter-houses, stages, representing the fortress of Dieppe!""And when the legate passed, you remember, Gisquette? they made the assault, and the English all had their throats cut.""And against the gate of the Chatelet, there were very fine personages!""And on the port au Change, which was all draped above!""And when the legate passed, they let fly on the bridge more than two hundred sorts of birds; wasn't it beautiful, Liénarde?""It will be better to-day," finally resumed their interlocutor, who seemed to listen to them with impatience."Do you promise us that this mystery will be fine?" said Gisquette."Without doubt," he replied; then he added, with a certain emphasis,--"I am the author of it, damsels.""Truly?" said the young girls, quite taken aback."Truly!" replied the poet, bridling a little; "that is, to say, there are two of us; Jehan Marchand, who has sawed the planks and erected the framework of the theatre and the woodwork; and I, who have made the piece.My name is pierre Gringoire."The author of the "Cid" could not have said "pierre Corneille" with more pride.Our readers have been able to observe, that a certain amount of time must have already elapsed from the moment when Jupiter had retired beneath the tapestry to the instant when the author of the new morality had thus abruptly revealed himself to the innocent admiration of Gisquette and Liénarde.Remarkable fact: that whole crowd, so tumultuous but a few moments before, now waited amiably on the word of the comedian; which proves the eternal truth, still experienced every day in our theatres, that the best means of making the public wait patiently is to assure them that one is about to begin instantly.However, scholar Johannes had not fallen asleep."Holà hé!" he shouted suddenly, in the midst of the peaceable waiting which had followed the tumult."Jupiter, Madame the Virgin, buffoons of the devil! are you jeering at us? The piece! the piece! commence or we will commence again!"This was all that was needed.The music of high and low instruments immediately became audible from the interior of the stage; the tapestry was raised; four personages, in motley attire and painted faces, emerged from it, climbed the steep ladder of the theatre, and, arrived upon the upper platform, arranged themselves in a line before the public, whom they saluted with profound reverences; then the symphony ceased.The mystery was about to begin.The four personages, after having reaped a rich reward of applause for their reverences, began, in the midst of profound silence, a prologue, which we gladly spare the reader.Moreover, as happens in our own day, the public was more occupied with the costumes that the actors wore than with the roles that they were enacting; and, in truth, they were right.All four were dressed in parti-colored robes of yellow and white, which were distinguished from each other only by the nature of the stuff; the first was of gold and silver brocade; the second, of silk; the third, of wool; the fourth, of linen.The first of these personages carried in his right hand a sword; the second, two golden keys; the third, a pair of scales; the fourth, a spade: and, in order to aid sluggish minds which would not have seen clearly through the transparency of these attributes, there was to be read, in large, black letters, on the hem of the robe of brocade, MY NAME IS NOBILITY; on the hem of the silken robe, MY NAME IS CLERGY; on the hem of the woolen robe, MY NAME IS MERCHANDISE; on the hem of the linen robe, MY NAME IS LABOR. The sex of the two male characters was briefly indicated to every judicious spectator, by their shorter robes, and by the cap which they wore on their heads; while the two female characters, less briefly clad, were covered with hoods.Much ill-will would also have been required, not to comprehend, through the medium of the poetry of the prologue, that Labor was wedded to Merchandise, and Clergy to Nobility, and that the two happy couples possessed in common a magnificent golden dolphin, which they desired to adjudge to the fairest only.So they were roaming about the world seeking and searching for this beauty, and, after having successively rejected the Queen of Golconda, the princess of Trebizonde, the daughter of the Grand Khan of Tartary, etc., Labor and Clergy, Nobility and Merchandise, had come to rest upon the marble table of the palais de Justice, and to utter, in the presence of the honest audience, as many sentences and maxims as could then be dispensed at the Faculty of Arts, at examinations, sophisms, determinances, figures, and acts, where the masters took their degrees.All this was, in fact, very fine.Nevertheless, in that throng, upon which the four allegories vied with each other in pouring out floods of metaphors, there was no ear more attentive, no heart that palpitated more, not an eye was more haggard, no neck more outstretched, than the eye, the ear, the neck, and the heart of the author, of the poet, of that brave pierre Gringoire, who had not been able to resist, a moment before, the joy of telling his name to two pretty girls.He had retreated a few paces from them, behind his pillar, and there he listened, looked, enjoyed.The amiable applause which had greeted the beginning of his prologue was still echoing in his bosom, and he was completely absorbed in that species of ecstatic contemplation with which an author beholds his ideas fall, one by one, from the mouth of the actor into the vast silence of the audience.Worthy pierre Gringoire!It pains us to say it, but this first ecstasy was speedily disturbed.Hardly had Gringoire raised this intoxicating cup of joy and triumph to his lips, when a drop of bitterness was mingled with it.A tattered mendicant, who could not collect any coins, lost as he was in the midst of the crowd, and who had not probably found sufficient indemnity in the pockets of his neighbors, had hit upon the idea of perching himself upon some conspicuous point, in order to attract looks and alms.He had, accordingly, hoisted himself, during the first verses of the prologue, with the aid of the pillars of the reserve gallery, to the cornice which ran round the balustrade at its lower edge; and there he had seated himself, soliciting the attention and the pity of the multitude, with his rags and a hideous sore which covered his right arm.However, he uttered not a word.The silence which he preserved allowed the prologue to proceed without hindrance, and no perceptible disorder would have ensued, if ill-luck had not willed that the scholar Joannes should catch sight, from the heights of his pillar, of the mendicant and his grimaces.A wild fit of laughter took possession of the young scamp, who, without caring that he was interrupting the spectacle, and disturbing the universal composure, shouted boldly,--"Look! see that sickly creature asking alms!"Any one who has thrown a stone into a frog pond, or fired a shot into a covey of birds, can form an idea of the effect produced by these incongruous words, in the midst of the general attention.It made Gringoire shudder as though it had been an electric shock.The prologue stopped short, and all heads turned tumultuously towards the beggar, who, far from being disconcerted by this, saw, in this incident, a good opportunity for reaping his harvest, and who began to whine in a doleful way, half closing his eyes the while,--"Charity, please!""Well--upon my soul," resumed Joannes, "it's Clopin Trouillefou!Holà he, my friend, did your sore bother you on the leg, that you have transferred it to your arm?" So saying, with the dexterity of a monkey, he flung a bit of silver into the gray felt hat which the beggar held in his ailing arm.The mendicant received both the alms and the sarcasm without wincing, and continued, in lamentable tones,--"Charity, please!"This episode considerably distracted the attention of the audience; and a goodly number of spectators, among them Robin poussepain, and all the clerks at their head, gayly applauded this eccentric duet, which the scholar, with his shrill voice, and the mendicant had just improvised in the middle of the prologue.Gringoire was highly displeased.On recovering from his first stupefaction, he bestirred himself to shout, to the four personages on the stage, "Go on!What the devil!--go on!" --without even deigning to cast a glance of disdain upon the two interrupters.At that moment, he felt some one pluck at the hem of his surtout; he turned round, and not without ill-humor, and found considerable difficulty in smiling; but he was obliged to do so, nevertheless.It was the pretty arm of Gisquette la Gencienne, which, passed through the railing, was soliciting his attention in this manner."Monsieur," said the young girl, "are they going to continue?""Of course," replied Gringoire, a good deal shocked by the question."In that case, messire," she resumed, "would you have the courtesy to explain to me--""What they are about to say?" interrupted Gringoire. "Well, listen.""No," said Gisquette, "but what they have said so far."Gringoire started, like a man whose wound has been probed to the quick."A plague on the stupid and dull-witted little girl!" he muttered, between his teeth.From that moment forth, Gisquette was nothing to him.In the meantime, the actors had obeyed his injunction, and the public, seeing that they were beginning to speak again, began once more to listen, not without having lost many beauties in the sort of soldered joint which was formed between the two portions of the piece thus abruptly cut short.Gringoire commented on it bitterly to himself. Nevertheless, tranquillity was gradually restored, the scholar held his peace, the mendicant counted over some coins in his hat, and the piece resumed the upper hand.It was, in fact, a very fine work, and one which, as it seems to us, might be put to use to-day, by the aid of a little rearrangement.The exposition, rather long and rather empty, that is to say, according to the rules, was simple; and Gringoire, in the candid sanctuary of his own conscience, admired its clearness.As the reader may surmise, the four allegorical personages were somewhat weary with having traversed the three sections of the world, without having found suitable opportunity for getting rid of their golden dolphin.Thereupon a eulogy of the marvellous fish, with a thousand delicate allusions to the young betrothed of Marguerite of Flanders, then sadly cloistered in at Amboise, and without a suspicion that Labor and Clergy, Nobility and Merchandise had just made the circuit of the world in his behalf.The said dauphin was then young, was handsome, was stout, and, above all (magnificent origin of all royal virtues), he was the son of the Lion of France.I declare that this bold metaphor is admirable, and that the natural history of the theatre, on a day of allegory and royal marriage songs, is not in the least startled by a dolphin who is the son of a lion.It is precisely these rare and pindaric mixtures which prove the poet's enthusiasm.Nevertheless, in order to play the part of critic also, the poet might have developed this beautiful idea in something less than two hundred lines.It is true that the mystery was to last from noon until four o'clock, in accordance with the orders of monsieur the provost, and that it was necessary to say something.Besides, the people listened patiently.All at once, in the very middle of a quarrel between Mademoiselle Merchandise and Madame Nobility, at the moment when Monsieur Labor was giving utterance to this wonderful line,--In forest ne'er was seen a more triumphant beast;the door of the reserved gallery which had hitherto remained so inopportunely closed, opened still more inopportunely; and the ringing voice of the usher announced abruptly, "His eminence, Monseigneur the Cardinal de Bourbon."
或许您还会喜欢:
嘉利妹妹
作者:佚名
章节:47 人气:2
摘要:当嘉洛林.米贝登上下午开往芝加哥的火车时,她的全部行装包皮括一个小箱子,一个廉价的仿鳄鱼皮挎包皮,一小纸盒午餐和一个黄皮弹簧钱包皮,里面装着她的车票,一张写有她姐姐在凡.布仑街地址的小纸条,还有四块现钱.那是!”889年8月.她才!”8岁,聪明,胆怯,由于无知和年轻,充满着种种幻想.尽管她在离家时依依不舍,家乡可没有什么好处让她难以割舍. [点击阅读]
地狱的滑稽大师
作者:佚名
章节:20 人气:2
摘要:在环绕东京市的国营铁路上,至今仍有几处依旧带点儿乡间味的道口。这些地方设有道口值班室,每当电车要通过时,不同颜色相间的栏杆就会落下,道口看守员便开始挥动信号旗。丰岛区1站大道口也是这种古董式道口之一。那里是从市中心到人口众多的丰岛区外围之间惟一的交通线,因此,不分昼夜,轿车、卡车、汽车、摩托车的通行极其频繁,步行过往者就更不必说了。 [点击阅读]
复仇的女神
作者:佚名
章节:23 人气:2
摘要:玛柏儿小姐习惯在下午,看第二份报。每天早上,有两份报送到她家里。如果头一份能准时送到的话,她会在吃早点时读它。送报童很不一定,不是换了个新人,就是临时找人代送。报童对送报的路径,各有各的做法。这也许是送报太单调了的缘故。 [点击阅读]
夜城8·非自然询问报
作者:佚名
章节:11 人气:2
摘要:在夜城,黑夜永无止尽。这里是隐身于伦敦的黑暗魔法之心,美梦以各种型态现世,诱惑与救赎永远都在特卖。你可以在夜城中找到任何事物,只要对方没有抢先找上门来。火热的霓虹,深邃的黑暗,信用卡难以支付的罪恶,狂放的夜店,疯狂的音乐。换上你的舞鞋,舞动到血流如注为止。夜晚持续不断,欢乐永不止歇。随时都会有人手中握着印有你的名字的子弹。我名叫约翰·泰勒,是一名迷失灵魂、在诅咒之地寻求救赎的私家侦探。 [点击阅读]
夜城外传·影子瀑布
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:2
摘要:世界上存在着一座梦想前去等待死亡的城镇。一个恶梦得以结束,希望终得安歇的所在。所有故事找到结局,所有冒险迎向终点,所有迷失的灵魂都能迈入最后归宿的地方。从古至今,世界上一直存在着许多这样的地方,散落在世界各地的黑暗角落。然而随着时间的推移、科学的发展、魔法的消逝,大部分的奇景都已不复见,而这类隐藏的角落也随之凋零。 [点击阅读]
夜访吸血鬼
作者:佚名
章节:18 人气:2
摘要:——代序姜秋霞安妮·赖斯是美国当代著名的小说家之一,她1941年出生在美国新奥尔良,1961年与诗人斯坦·赖斯结为伉俪,1964年获旧金山州立大学学士学位,1971年获加州大学硕士学位。她在成名之前做过多种工作:女招待、厨师、引座员等等,经历十分丰富,为她的写作奠定了充实的基础。 [点击阅读]
失去的胜利
作者:佚名
章节:24 人气:2
摘要:前言1945年我曾经讯问过许多德国将领,他们一致的意见都是认为曼施坦因元帅已经被证明为他们陆军中能力最强的指挥官,他们都希望他能出任陆军总司令。非常明显,他对于作战的可能性具有一种超人的敏感,对于作战的指导也同样精通,此外比起任何其他非装甲兵种出身的指挥官,他对于机械化部队的潜力,又都有较大的了解。总括言之,他具有军事天才。在战争的最初阶段中,他以一个参谋军官的身份,在幕后发挥出来一种伟大的影响。 [点击阅读]
小逻辑
作者:佚名
章节:22 人气:2
摘要:为了适应我的哲学讲演的听众对一种教本的需要起见,我愿意让这个对于哲学全部轮廓的提纲,比我原来所预计的更早一些出版问世。本书因限于纲要的性质,不仅未能依照理念的内容予以详尽发挥,而且又特别紧缩了关于理念的系统推演的发挥。而系统的推演必定包皮含有我们在别的科学里所了解的证明,而且这种证明是一个够得上称为科学的哲学所必不可缺少的。 [点击阅读]
尼罗河上的惨案
作者:佚名
章节:47 人气:2
摘要:第一章(1)“林内特·里奇维!”“就是她!”伯纳比先生说。这位先生是“三王冠”旅馆的老板。他用手肘推推他的同伴。这两个人乡巴佬似的睁大眼睛盯着,嘴巴微微张开。一辆深红色的劳斯莱斯停在邮局门口。一个女孩跳下汽车,她没戴帽子,穿一件看起来很普通(只是看起来)的上衣。 [点击阅读]
局外人
作者:佚名
章节:28 人气:2
摘要:人道主义思想加缪的思想,其核心就是人道主义,人的尊严问题,一直是缠绕着他的创作、生活和政治斗争的根本问题。《西西弗斯神话》和《局外人》构成了加缪文学创作的母题,包含着加缪未来作品的核心问题。书中,西西弗斯的幸福假设的提出,其本质动机,不在荒诞,荒诞既不能告诉我们幸福,也不能告诉我们不幸,之所以加缪假设西西弗斯是幸福的,是因为他认为只有幸福的生活才符合人的尊严,被责为永罚,却幸福,这绝对是一种反抗, [点击阅读]
巴斯克维尔的猎犬
作者:佚名
章节:15 人气:2
摘要:歇洛克·福尔摩斯先生坐在桌旁早餐,他除了时常彻夜不眠之外,早晨总是起得很晚的。我站在壁炉前的小地毯上,拿起了昨晚那位客人遗忘的手杖。这是一根很精致而又沉重的手杖,顶端有个疙疸;这种木料产于槟榔屿,名叫槟榔子木。紧挨顶端的下面是一圈很宽的银箍,宽度约有一英寸。上刻“送给皇家外科医学院学士杰姆士·摩梯末,C.C.H.的朋友们赠”,还刻有“一八八四年”。 [点击阅读]
巴黎圣母院
作者:佚名
章节:24 人气:2
摘要:维克多•雨果(VictorHugo)(l802~1885)是法国文学史上最伟大的作家之一,法国浪漫主义学运动的领袖。他的一生几乎跨越整个19世纪,他的文学生涯达60年之久,创作力经久不衰。他的浪漫主义小说精彩动人,雄浑有力,对读者具有永久的魅力。【身世】雨果1802年生于法国南部的贝尚松城。 [点击阅读]
Copyright© 2006-2019. All Rights Reserved.