姐,我要。。。
轻松的小说阅读环境
巴黎圣母院英文版 - BOOK FIRST CHAPTER IV.MASTER JACQUES COPPENOLE.
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。
  While the pensioner of Ghent and his eminence were exchanging very low bows and a few words in voices still lower, a man of lofty stature, with a large face and broad shoulders, presented himself, in order to enter abreast with Guillaume Rym; one would have pronounced him a bull-dog by the side of a fox.His felt doublet and leather jerkin made a spot on the velvet and silk which surrounded him. presuming that he was some groom who had stolen in, the usher stopped him."Hold, my friend, you cannot pass!"The man in the leather jerkin shouldered him aside."What does this knave want with me?" said he, in stentorian tones, which rendered the entire hall attentive to this strange colloquy."Don't you see that I am one of them?""Your name?" demanded the usher."Jacques Coppenole.""Your titles?""Hosier at the sign of the 'Three Little Chains,' of Ghent."The usher recoiled.One might bring one's self to announce aldermen and burgomasters, but a hosier was too much.The cardinal was on thorns.All the people were staring and listening.For two days his eminence had been exerting his utmost efforts to lick these Flemish bears into shape, and to render them a little more presentable to the public, and this freak was startling.But Guillaume Rym, with his polished smile, approached the usher."Announce Master Jacques Coppenole, clerk of the aldermen of the city of Ghent," he whispered, very low."Usher," interposed the cardinal, aloud, "announce Master Jacques Coppenole, clerk of the aldermen of the illustrious city of Ghent."This was a mistake.Guillaume Rym alone might have conjured away the difficulty, but Coppenole had heard the cardinal."No, cross of God?" he exclaimed, in his voice of thunder, "Jacques Coppenole, hosier.Do you hear, usher?Nothing more, nothing less.Cross of God! hosier; that's fine enough. Monsieur the Archduke has more than once sought his ~gant~* in my hose."*Got the first idea of a timing.Laughter and applause burst forth.A jest is always understood in paris, and, consequently, always applauded.Let us add that Coppenole was of the people, and that the auditors which surrounded him were also of the people.Thus the communication between him and them had been prompt, electric, and, so to speak, on a level.The haughty air of the Flemish hosier, by humiliating the courtiers, had touched in all these plebeian souls that latent sentiment of dignity still vague and indistinct in the fifteenth century.This hosier was an equal, who had just held his own before monsieur the cardinal.A very sweet reflection to poor fellows habituated to respect and obedience towards the underlings of the sergeants of the bailiff of Sainte-Geneviève, the cardinal's train-bearer.Coppenole proudly saluted his eminence, who returned the salute of the all-powerful bourgeois feared by Louis XI. Then, while Guillaume Rym, a "sage and malicious man," as philippe de Comines puts it, watched them both with a smile of raillery and superiority, each sought his place, the cardinal quite abashed and troubled, Coppenole tranquil and haughty, and thinking, no doubt, that his title of hosier was as good as any other, after all, and that Marie of Burgundy, mother to that Marguerite whom Coppenole was to-day bestowing in marriage, would have been less afraid of the cardinal than of the hosier; for it is not a cardinal who would have stirred up a revolt among the men of Ghent against the favorites of the daughter of Charles the Bold; it is not a cardinal who could have fortified the populace with a word against her tears and prayers, when the Maid of Flanders came to supplicate her people in their behalf, even at the very foot of the scaffold; while the hosier had only to raise his leather elbow, in order to cause to fall your two heads, most illustrious seigneurs, Guy d'Hymbercourt and Chancellor Guillaume Hugonet.Nevertheless, all was over for the poor cardinal, and he was obliged to quaff to the dregs the bitter cup of being in such bad company.The reader has, probably, not forgotten the impudent beggar who had been clinging fast to the fringes of the cardinal's gallery ever since the beginning of the prologue.The arrival of the illustrious guests had by no means caused him to relax his hold, and, while the prelates and ambassadors were packing themselves into the stalls--like genuine Flemish herrings--he settled himself at his ease, and boldly crossed his legs on the architrave.The insolence of this proceeding was extraordinary, yet no one noticed it at first, the attention of all being directed elsewhere.He, on his side, perceived nothing that was going on in the hall; he wagged his head with the unconcern of a Neapolitan, repeating from time to time, amid the clamor, as from a mechanical habit, "Charity, please!"And, assuredly, he was, out of all those present, the only one who had not deigned to turn his head at the altercation between Coppenole and the usher.Now, chance ordained that the master hosier of Ghent, with whom the people were already in lively sympathy, and upon whom all eyes were riveted--should come and seat himself in the front row of the gallery, directly above the mendicant; and people were not a little amazed to see the Flemish ambassador, on concluding his inspection of the knave thus placed beneath his eyes, bestow a friendly tap on that ragged shoulder.The beggar turned round; there was surprise, recognition, a lighting up of the two countenances, and so forth; then, without paying the slightest heed in the world to the spectators, the hosier and the wretched being began to converse in a low tone, holding each other's hands, in the meantime, while the rags of Clopin Trouillefou, spread out upon the cloth of gold of the dais, produced the effect of a caterpillar on an orange.The novelty of this singular scene excited such a murmur of mirth and gayety in the hall, that the cardinal was not slow to perceive it; he half bent forward, and, as from the point where he was placed he could catch only an imperfect view of Trouillerfou's ignominious doublet, he very naturally imagined that the mendicant was asking alms, and, disgusted with his audacity, he exclaimed: "Bailiff of the Courts, toss me that knave into the river!""Cross of God! monseigneur the cardinal," said Coppenole, without quitting Clopin's hand, "he's a friend of mine.""Good! good!" shouted the populace.From that moment, Master Coppenole enjoyed in paris as in Ghent, "great favor with the people; for men of that sort do enjoy it," says philippe de Comines, "when they are thus disorderly." The cardinal bit his lips.He bent towards his neighbor, the Abbé of Saint Geneviéve, and said to him in a low tone,--"Fine ambassadors monsieur the archduke sends here, to announce to us Madame Marguerite!""Your eminence," replied the abbé, "wastes your politeness on these Flemish swine.~Margaritas ante porcos~, pearls before swine.""Say rather," retorted the cardinal, with a smile, "~porcos ante Margaritam~, swine before the pearl."The whole little court in cassocks went into ecstacies over this play upon words.The cardinal felt a little relieved; he was quits with Coppenole, he also had had his jest applauded.Now, will those of our readers who possess the power of generalizing an image or an idea, as the expression runs in the style of to-day, permit us to ask them if they have formed a very clear conception of the spectacle presented at this moment, upon which we have arrested their attention, by the vast parallelogram of the grand hall of the palace.In the middle of the hall, backed against the western wall, a large and magnificent gallery draped with cloth of gold, into which enter in procession, through a small, arched door, grave personages, announced successively by the shrill voice of an usher.On the front benches were already a number of venerable figures, muffled in ermine, velvet, and scarlet.Around the dais--which remains silent and dignified--below, opposite, everywhere, a great crowd and a great murmur.Thousands of glances directed by the people on each face upon the dais, a thousand whispers over each name.Certainly, the spectacle is curious, and well deserves the attention of the spectators.But yonder, quite at the end, what is that sort of trestle work with four motley puppets upon it, and more below?Who is that man beside the trestle, with a black doublet and a pale face?Alas! my dear reader, it is pierre Gringoire and his prologue.We have all forgotten him completely.This is precisely what he feared.From the moment of the cardinal's entrance, Gringoire had never ceased to tremble for the safety of his prologue.At first he had enjoined the actors, who had stopped in suspense, to continue, and to raise their voices; then, perceiving that no one was listening, he had stopped them; and, during the entire quarter of an hour that the interruption lasted, he had not ceased to stamp, to flounce about, to appeal to Gisquette and Liénarde, and to urge his neighbors to the continuance of the prologue; all in vain.No one quitted the cardinal, the embassy, and the gallery--sole centre of this vast circle of visual rays.We must also believe, and we say it with regret, that the prologue had begun slightly to weary the audience at the moment when his eminence had arrived, and created a diversion in so terrible a fashion.After all, on the gallery as well as on the marble table, the spectacle was the same: the conflict of Labor and Clergy, of Nobility and Merchandise.And many people preferred to see them alive, breathing, moving, elbowing each other in flesh and blood, in this Flemish embassy, in this Episcopal court, under the cardinal's robe, under Coppenole's jerkin, than painted, decked out, talking in verse, and, so to speak, stuffed beneath the yellow amid white tunics in which Gringoire had so ridiculously clothed them.Nevertheless, when our poet beheld quiet reestablished to some extent, he devised a stratagem which might have redeemed all."Monsieur," he said, turning towards one of his neighbors, a fine, big man, with a patient face, "suppose we begin again.""What?" said his neighbor."Hé! the Mystery," said Gringoire."As you like," returned his neighbor.This semi-approbation sufficed for Gringoire, and, conducting his own affairs, he began to shout, confounding himself with the crowd as much as possible: "Begin the mystery again! begin again!""The devil!" said Joannes de Molendino, "what are they jabbering down yonder, at the end of the hall?" (for Gringoire was making noise enough for four.)"Say, comrades, isn't that mystery finished?They want to begin it all over again.That's not fair!""No, no!" shouted all the scholars."Down with the mystery!Down with it!"But Gringoire had multiplied himself, and only shouted the more vigorously: "Begin again! begin again!"These clamors attracted the attention of the cardinal."Monsieur Bailiff of the Courts," said he to a tall, black man, placed a few paces from him, "are those knaves in a holy-water vessel, that they make such a hellish noise?"The bailiff of the courts was a sort of amphibious magistrate, a sort of bat of the judicial order, related to both the rat and the bird, the judge and the soldier.He approached his eminence, and not without a good deal of fear of the latter's displeasure, he awkwardly explained to him the seeming disrespect of the audience: that noonday had arrived before his eminence, and that the comedians had been forced to begin without waiting for his eminence.The cardinal burst into a laugh."On my faith, the rector of the university ought to have done the same.What say you, Master Guillaume Rym?""Monseigneur," replied Guillaume Rym, "let us be content with having escaped half of the comedy.There is at least that much gained.""Can these rascals continue their farce?" asked the bailiff."Continue, continue," said the cardinal, "it's all the same to me.I'll read my breviary in the meantime."The bailiff advanced to the edge of the estrade, and cried, after having invoked silence by a wave of the hand,--"Bourgeois, rustics, and citizens, in order to satisfy those who wish the play to begin again, and those who wish it to end, his eminence orders that it be continued."Both parties were forced to resign themselves.But the public and the author long cherished a grudge against the cardinal.So the personages on the stage took up their parts, and Gringoire hoped that the rest of his work, at least, would be listened to.This hope was speedily dispelled like his other illusions; silence had indeed, been restored in the audience, after a fashion; but Gringoire had not observed that at the moment when the cardinal gave the order to continue, the gallery was far from full, and that after the Flemish envoys there had arrived new personages forming part of the cortege, whose names and ranks, shouted out in the midst of his dialogue by the intermittent cry of the usher, produced considerable ravages in it.Let the reader imagine the effect in the midst of a theatrical piece, of the yelping of an usher, flinging in between two rhymes, and often in the middle of a line, parentheses like the following,--"Master Jacques Charmolue, procurator to the king in the Ecclesiastical Courts!""Jehan de Harlay, equerry guardian of the office of chevalier of the night watch of the city of paris!""Messire Galiot de Genoilhac, chevalier, seigneur de Brussac, master of the king's artillery!""Master Dreux-Raguier, surveyor of the woods and forests of the king our sovereign, in the land of France, Champagne and Brie!""Messire Louis de Graville, chevalier, councillor, and chamberlain of the king, admiral of France, keeper of the Forest of Vincennes!""Master Denis le Mercier, guardian of the house of the blind at paris!" etc., etc., etc.This was becoming unbearable.This strange accompaniment, which rendered it difficult to follow the piece, made Gringoire all the more indignant because he could not conceal from himself the fact that the interest was continually increasing, and that all his work required was a chance of being heard.It was, in fact, difficult to imagine a more ingenious and more dramatic composition.The four personages of the prologue were bewailing themselves in their mortal embarrassment, when Venus in person, (~vera incessa patuit dea~) presented herself to them, clad in a fine robe bearing the heraldic device of the ship of the city of paris.She had come herself to claim the dolphin promised to the most beautiful.Jupiter, whose thunder could be heard rumbling in the dressing-room, supported her claim, and Venus was on the point of carrying it off,--that is to say, without allegory, of marrying monsieur the dauphin, when a young child clad in white damask, and holding in her hand a daisy (a transparent personification of Mademoiselle Marguerite of Flanders) came to contest it with Venus.Theatrical effect and change.After a dispute, Venus, Marguerite, and the assistants agreed to submit to the good judgment of time holy Virgin. There was another good part, that of the king of Mesopotamia; but through so many interruptions, it was difficult to make out what end he served.All these persons had ascended by the ladder to the stage.But all was over; none of these beauties had been felt nor understood.On the entrance of the cardinal, one would have said that an invisible magic thread had suddenly drawn all glances from the marble table to the gallery, from the southern to the western extremity of the hall.Nothing could disenchant the audience; all eyes remained fixed there, and the new-comers and their accursed names, and their faces, and their costumes, afforded a continual diversion.This was very distressing.With the exception of Gisquette and Liénarde, who turned round from time to time when Gringoire plucked them by the sleeve; with the exception of the big, patient neighbor, no one listened, no one looked at the poor, deserted morality full face.Gringoire saw only profiles.With what bitterness did he behold his whole erection of glory and of poetry crumble away bit by bit!And to think that these people had been upon the point of instituting a revolt against the bailiff through impatience to hear his work! now that they had it they did not care for it.This same representation which had been begun amid so unanimous an acclamation!Eternal flood and ebb of popular favor!To think that they had been on the point of hanging the bailiff's sergeant!What would he not have given to be still at that hour of honey!But the usher's brutal monologue came to an end; every one had arrived, and Gringoire breathed freely once more; the actors continued bravely.But Master Coppenole, the hosier, must needs rise of a sudden, and Gringoire was forced to listen to him deliver, amid universal attention, the following abominable harangue."Messieurs the bourgeois and squires of paris, I don't know, cross of God! what we are doing here.I certainly do see yonder in the corner on that stage, some people who appear to be fighting.I don't know whether that is what you call a "mystery," but it is not amusing; they quarrel with their tongues and nothing more.I have been waiting for the first blow this quarter of an hour; nothing comes; they are cowards who only scratch each other with insults.You ought to send for the fighters of London or Rotterdam; and, I can tell you! you would have had blows of the fist that could be heard in the place; but these men excite our pity.They ought at least, to give us a moorish dance, or some other mummer!That is not what was told me; I was promised a feast of fools, with the election of a pope.We have our pope of fools at Ghent also; we're not behindhand in that, cross of God!But this is the way we manage it; we collect a crowd like this one here, then each person in turn passes his head through a hole, and makes a grimace at the rest; time one who makes the ugliest, is elected pope by general acclamation; that's the way it is.It is very diverting.Would you like to make your pope after the fashion of my country?At all events, it will be less wearisome than to listen to chatterers. If they wish to come and make their grimaces through the hole, they can join the game.What say you, Messieurs les bourgeois?You have here enough grotesque specimens of both sexes, to allow of laughing in Flemish fashion, and there are enough of us ugly in countenance to hope for a fine grinning match."Gringoire would have liked to retort; stupefaction, rage, indignation, deprived him of words.Moreover, the suggestion of the popular hosier was received with such enthusiasm by these bourgeois who were flattered at being called "squires," that all resistance was useless.There was nothing to be done but to allow one's self to drift with the torrent. Gringoire hid his face between his two hands, not being so fortunate as to have a mantle with which to veil his head, like Agamemnon of Timantis.
或许您还会喜欢:
拉贝日记
作者:佚名
章节:32 人气:0
摘要:胡绳60年前,侵华日军制造的南京大屠杀惨案,是日本法西斯在中国所犯严重罪行之一,是中国现代史上极其惨痛的一页。虽然日本当时当权者和以后当权者中的许多人竭力否认有这样的惨案,企图隐瞒事实真相,但事实就是事实,不断有身经这个惨案的人(包括当时的日本军人)提供了揭露惨案真相的材料。最近,江苏人民出版社和江苏教育出版社共同翻译出版了《拉贝日记》。 [点击阅读]
挪威的森林
作者:佚名
章节:20 人气:0
摘要:编者语我们为什么选择村上春树?不是因为他连获日本文艺界的奖项:也不是因为他的作品高居日本畅销书榜首:更不是因为他的作品掀起年轻一代的抢购热潮,突破四百万部的销量!那么,为什么?答案是:他和他的作品带给我们思想的特异空间,而轻描淡写的日常生活片断唤起的生活气氛令我们有所共鸣。更重要的是他以六十年代的背景道出九十年代,甚至世世代代的年轻心声。 [点击阅读]
推销员之死
作者:佚名
章节:22 人气:0
摘要:前言阿瑟·米勒,美国剧作家,1915年出生在纽约一个犹太人中产阶级家庭,父亲是一个时装商人,他在哈莱姆上小学,布鲁克林上中学,中学毕业以后工作了两年,后来进入密执根大学,大学期间开始戏剧创作,写了4部剧本,并两次获奖。他第一部在百老汇上演的剧作是《鸿运高照的人》(1944),成名作是1947年创作的《全是我的儿子》,作品获当年度的纽约剧评界奖。 [点击阅读]
摆脱危机者的调查书
作者:佚名
章节:12 人气:0
摘要:1明明那是别人说过的话,而且我还记得别人说那些话时的情景;可是,我总觉得那才是发自我灵魂深处的话。不过,既然语言得有两个人参与才能成立,也就不能不说是由于我的存在才成为别人的语言的真正的源泉了。有一回,那位核电站的原工程师,也就是和我相互排斥的那个人,他既想让我听见,却又装做自言自语似地说:“没有比选上救场跑垒员①更令人胆战心惊而又最雄心勃勃的了!那是为业余棒球殉难啊。 [点击阅读]
摩尔弗兰德斯
作者:佚名
章节:37 人气:0
摘要:第1章序近来,世人颇感兴趣于长篇小说和浪漫故事,而对个人经历很难信以为真,以致对此人的真名及其它情况都予以隐瞒;鉴于此,对于后面的文字,读者如何看待均随其所愿。可以认为,笔者在本书中写出了她自身的经历,从一开始她就讲述自己为何认为最好隐瞒自己的真名,对此我们毋须多言。 [点击阅读]
放学后
作者:佚名
章节:30 人气:0
摘要:九月十日,星期二的放学后。头顶上方传来“砰”的一声,我反射动作的抬起头,见到三楼窗户丢出某黑色物体,正好在我的上方,我慌忙避开。黑色物体落在我刚才站的地点后,破碎了。那是天竺葵的盆栽!那时放学后,我走在教室大楼旁时发生的事。不知从何处飘来的钢琴声。我呆然凝视那破碎的陶盆,一瞬,无法理解发生什么事,直到腋下的汗珠沿手臂滴落,我才忽然清醒过来。紧接的瞬间,我拔腿往前跑。 [点击阅读]
数字城堡
作者:佚名
章节:15 人气:0
摘要:丹·布朗(DanBrown)是美国当今最著名的畅销书作家之一。2003年3月出版的《达·芬奇密码》创造了一个书市奇迹,旋风般地横扫了美国各大畅销书榜,至今全球销量已超过800万册。丹·布朗也凭这部小说而大红大紫。丹·布朗出生于美国一个中产阶级家庭,从小在美国新罕布什尔州的埃克塞特镇长大,在阿默斯特学院和菲利普·埃克塞特学院度过了大学生涯,毕业之后留在菲利普·埃克塞特学院教授英语。 [点击阅读]
斯塔福特疑案
作者:佚名
章节:31 人气:0
摘要:布尔纳比少校穿上皮靴,扣好围颈的大衣领,在门旁的架子上拿下一盏避风灯,轻轻地打开小平房的正门,从缝隙向外探视。映入眼帘的是一派典型的英国乡村的景色,就象圣诞卡片和旧式情节剧的节目单上所描绘的一样——白雪茫茫,堆银砌玉。四天来整个英格兰一直大雪飞舞。在达尔特莫尔边缘的高地上,积雪深达数英所。全英格兰的户主都在为水管破裂而哀叹。只需个铝管工友(哪怕是个副手)也是人们求之不得的救星了。寒冬是严峻的。 [点击阅读]
斯泰尔斯庄园奇案
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:0
摘要:曾经轰动一时,在公众中引起强烈兴趣的“斯泰尔斯庄园案”,现在已经有点冷落下来了。然而,由于随之产生的种种流言蜚语广为流传,我的朋友波洛和那一家的人。都要求我把整个故事写出来。我们相信,这将有效地驳倒那些迄今为止仍在流传的耸人听闻的谣言。因此,我决定把我和这一事件有关的一些情况简略地记下来。我是作为伤病员从前线给遣送回家的;在一所令人相当沮丧的疗养院里挨过了几个月之后,总算给了我一个月的病假。 [点击阅读]
新人呵,醒来吧
作者:佚名
章节:4 人气:0
摘要:去国外旅行时,因为工作上的关系,我经常要在国外生活一段时间。每次做这种旅行时,我都像一棵无根之草,在陌生的国度里设法处理可能出现的困难。为此我都要做一点准备,至少可以保持心理平衡。实际上,我不过是在旅行时带上出发前一直在读的一系列丛书,不久我将独自一人生活在异国他乡,可是一读到在东京时读的这些书,胆战心惊、急躁、沉靡的我就会得到鼓舞。 [点击阅读]
新人来自火星
作者:佚名
章节:11 人气:0
摘要:侯维瑞赫-乔-威尔斯与另两位作家约翰-高尔斯华绥和阿诺德-贝内持并称为本世纪初英国小说中的现实主义三杰。19世纪中叶,英国的批判现实主义小说在狄更斯和萨克雷等大师手中达到了灿烂辉煌的高峰。19世纪末、20纪初英国进入帝国主义阶段以后,现实主义小说依然发挥着它的批判作用,从道德、文化、经济、政治等各个方面暴露与抨击资本主义社会的罪恶。 [点击阅读]
新宿鲛
作者:佚名
章节:24 人气:0
摘要:01鲛岛脱下牛仔裤与POLO衫,正要迭好,忽然听见一阵惨叫。鲛岛停顿了一会儿,随后关上储物柜,上了锁。钥匙吊在手环上,而手环则用尼龙搭扣绑在手腕上。他用浴巾裹住下身,走出更衣室。这时又听见了一声惨叫。更衣室外是一条走廊。走到尽头,就是桑拿房了。桑拿房前,还有休息室与小睡室。惨叫,就是从小睡室里传来的。小睡室大概二十畳①大,里头只有一个灯泡亮着,特别昏暗。 [点击阅读]