姐,我要。。。
轻松的小说阅读环境
巴黎圣母院英文版 - BOOK FOURTH CHAPTER V.MORE ABOUT CLAUDE FROLLO.
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。
  In 1482, Quasimodo was about twenty years of age; Claude Frollo, about thirty-six.One had grown up, the other had grown old.Claude Frollo was no longer the simple scholar of the college of Torch, the tender protector of a little child, the young and dreamy philosopher who knew many things and was ignorant of many.He was a priest, austere, grave, morose; one charged with souls; monsieur the archdeacon of Josas, the bishop's second acolyte, having charge of the two deaneries of Montlhéry, and Chateaufort, and one hundred and seventy-four country curacies.He was an imposing and sombre personage, before whom the choir boys in alb and in jacket trembled, as well as the machicots*, and the brothers of Saint-Augustine and the matutinal clerks of Notre-Dame, when he passed slowly beneath the lofty arches of the choir, majestic, thoughtful, with arms folded and his head so bent upon his breast that all one saw of his face was his large, bald brow.*An official of Notre-Dame, lower than a beneficed clergyman, higher than simple paid chanters.Dom Claude Frollo had, however, abandoned neither science nor the education of his young brother, those two occupations of his life.But as time went on, some bitterness had been mingled with these things which were so sweet.In the long run, says paul Diacre, the best lard turns rancid.Little Jehan Frollo, surnamed (~du Moulin~) "of the Mill" because of the place where he had been reared, had not grown up in the direction which Claude would have liked to impose upon him. The big brother counted upon a pious, docile, learned, and honorable pupil.But the little brother, like those young trees which deceive the gardener's hopes and turn obstinately to the quarter whence they receive sun and air, the little brother did not grow and did not multiply, but only put forth fine bushy and luxuriant branches on the side of laziness, ignorance, and debauchery.He was a regular devil, and a very disorderly one, who made Dom Claude scowl; but very droll and very subtle, which made the big brother smile.Claude had confided him to that same college of Torchi where he had passed his early years in study and meditation; and it was a grief to him that this sanctuary, formerly edified by the name of Frollo, should to-day be scandalized by it. He sometimes preached Jehan very long and severe sermons, which the latter intrepidly endured.After all, the young scapegrace had a good heart, as can be seen in all comedies. But the sermon over, he none the less tranquilly resumed his course of seditions and enormities.Now it was a ~bejaune~ or yellow beak (as they called the new arrivals at the university), whom he had been mauling by way of welcome; a precious tradition which has been carefully preserved to our own day. Again, he had set in movement a band of scholars, who had flung themselves upon a wine-shop in classic fashion, quasi ~classico excitati~, had then beaten the tavern-keeper "with offensive cudgels," and joyously pillaged the tavern, even to smashing in the hogsheads of wine in the cellar.And then it was a fine report in Latin, which the sub-monitor of Torchi carried piteously to Dom Claude with this dolorous marginal comment,--~Rixa; prima causa vinum optimum potatum~.Finally, it was said, a thing quite horrible in a boy of sixteen, that his debauchery often extended as far as the Rue de Glatigny.Claude, saddened and discouraged in his human affections, by all this, had flung himself eagerly into the arms of learning, that sister which, at least does not laugh in your face, and which always pays you, though in money that is sometimes a little hollow, for the attention which you have paid to her. Hence, he became more and more learned, and, at the same time, as a natural consequence, more and more rigid as a priest, more and more sad as a man.There are for each of us several parallelisms between our intelligence, our habits, and our character, which develop without a break, and break only in the great disturbances of life.As Claude Frollo had passed through nearly the entire circle of human learning--positive, exterior, and permissible--since his youth, he was obliged, unless he came to a halt, ~ubi defuit orbis~, to proceed further and seek other aliments for the insatiable activity of his intelligence.The antique symbol of the serpent biting its tail is, above all, applicable to science.It would appear that Claude Frollo had experienced this.Many grave persons affirm that, after having exhausted the ~fas~ of human learning, he had dared to penetrate into the ~nefas~.He had, they said, tasted in succession all the apples of the tree of knowledge, and, whether from hunger or disgust, had ended by tasting the forbidden fruit.He had taken his place by turns, as the reader has seen, in the conferences of the theologians in Sorbonne,--in the assemblies of the doctors of art, after the manner of Saint-Hilaire,--in the disputes of the decretalists, after the manner of Saint-Martin,--in the congregations of physicians at the holy water font of Notre- Dame, ~ad cupam Nostroe-Dominoe~.All the dishes permitted and approved, which those four great kitchens called the four faculties could elaborate and serve to the understanding, he had devoured, and had been satiated with them before his hunger was appeased.Then he had penetrated further, lower, beneath all that finished, material, limited knowledge; he had, perhaps, risked his soul, and had seated himself in the cavern at that mysterious table of the alchemists, of the astrologers, of the hermetics, of which Averroès, Gillaume de paris, and Nicolas Flamel hold the end in the Middle Ages; and which extends in the East, by the light of the seven- branched candlestick, to Solomon, pythagoras, and Zoroaster.That is, at least, what was supposed, whether rightly or not. It is certain that the archdeacon often visited the cemetery of the Saints-Innocents, where, it is true, his father and mother had been buried, with other victims of the plague of 1466; but that he appeared far less devout before the cross of their grave than before the strange figures with which the tomb of Nicolas Flamel and Claude pernelle, erected just beside it, was loaded.It is certain that he had frequently been seen to pass along the Rue des Lombards, and furtively enter a little house which formed the corner of the Rue des Ecrivans and the Rue Marivault.It was the house which Nicolas Flamel had built, where he had died about 1417, and which, constantly deserted since that time, had already begun to fall in ruins,--so greatly had the hermetics and the alchemists of all countries wasted away the walls, merely by carving their names upon them.Some neighbors even affirm that they had once seen, through an air-hole, Archdeacon Claude excavating, turning over, digging up the earth in the two cellars, whose supports had been daubed with numberless couplets and hieroglyphics by Nicolas Flamel himself.It was supposed that Flamel had buried the philosopher's stone in the cellar; and the alchemists, for the space of two centuries, from Magistri to Father pacifique, never ceased to worry the soil until the house, so cruelly ransacked and turned over, ended by falling into dust beneath their feet.Again, it is certain that the archdeacon had been seized with a singular passion for the symbolical door of Notre- Dame, that page of a conjuring book written in stone, by Bishop Guillaume de paris, who has, no doubt, been damned for having affixed so infernal a frontispiece to the sacred poem chanted by the rest of the edifice.Archdeacon Claude had the credit also of having fathomed the mystery of the colossus of Saint Christopher, and of that lofty, enigmatical statue which then stood at the entrance of the vestibule, and which the people, in derision, called "Monsieur Legris."But, what every one might have noticed was the interminable hours which he often employed, seated upon the parapet of the area in front of the church, in contemplating the sculptures of the front; examining now the foolish virgins with their lamps reversed, now the wise virgins with their lamps upright; again, calculating the angle of vision of that raven which belongs to the left front, and which is looking at a mysterious point inside the church, where is concealed the philosopher's stone, if it be not in the cellar of Nicolas Flamel.It was, let us remark in passing, a singular fate for the Church of Notre-Dame at that epoch to be so beloved, in two different degrees, and with so much devotion, by two beings so dissimilar as Claude and Quasimodo.Beloved by one, a sort of instinctive and savage half-man, for its beauty, for its stature, for the harmonies which emanated from its magnificent ensemble; beloved by the other, a learned and passionate imagination, for its myth, for the sense which it contains, for the symbolism scattered beneath the sculptures of its front,--like the first text underneath the second in a palimpsest,--in a word, for the enigma which it is eternally propounding to the understanding.Furthermore, it is certain that the archdeacon had established himself in that one of the two towers which looks upon the Grève, just beside the frame for the bells, a very secret little cell, into which no one, not even the bishop, entered without his leave, it was said.This tiny cell had formerly been made almost at the summit of the tower, among the ravens' nests, by Bishop Hugo de Besan?on* who had wrought sorcery there in his day.What that cell contained, no one knew; but from the strand of the Terrain, at night, there was often seen to appear, disappear, and reappear at brief and regular intervals, at a little dormer window opening upon the back of the tower, a certain red, intermittent, singular light which seemed to follow the panting breaths of a bellows, and to proceed from a flame, rather than from a light.In the darkness, at that height, it produced a singular effect; and the goodwives said: "There's the archdeacon blowing! hell is sparkling up yonder!"*Hugo II. de Bisuncio, 1326-1332.There were no great proofs of sorcery in that, after all, but there was still enough smoke to warrant a surmise of fire, and the archdeacon bore a tolerably formidable reputation.We ought to mention however, that the sciences of Egypt, that necromancy and magic, even the whitest, even the most innocent, had no more envenomed enemy, no more pitiless denunciator before the gentlemen of the officialty of Notre-Dame. Whether this was sincere horror, or the game played by the thief who shouts, "stop thief!" at all events, it did not prevent the archdeacon from being considered by the learned heads of the chapter, as a soul who had ventured into the vestibule of hell, who was lost in the caves of the cabal, groping amid the shadows of the occult sciences.Neither were the people deceived thereby; with any one who possessed any sagacity, Quasimodo passed for the demon; Claude Frollo, for the sorcerer.It was evident that the bellringer was to serve the archdeacon for a given time, at the end of which he would carry away the latter's soul, by way of payment.Thus the archdeacon, in spite of the excessive austerity of his life, was in bad odor among all pious souls; and there was no devout nose so inexperienced that it could not smell him out to be a magician.And if, as he grew older, abysses had formed in his science, they had also formed in his heart.That at least, is what one had grounds for believing on scrutinizing that face upon which the soul was only seen to shine through a sombre cloud. Whence that large, bald brow? that head forever bent? that breast always heaving with sighs?What secret thought caused his mouth to smile with so much bitterness, at the same moment that his scowling brows approached each other like two bulls on the point of fighting?Why was what hair he had left already gray?What was that internal fire which sometimes broke forth in his glance, to such a degree that his eye resembled a hole pierced in the wall of a furnace?These symptoms of a violent moral preoccupation, had acquired an especially high degree of intensity at the epoch when this story takes place.More than once a choir-boy had fled in terror at finding him alone in the church, so strange and dazzling was his look.More than once, in the choir, at the hour of the offices, his neighbor in the stalls had heard him mingle with the plain song, ~ad omnem tonum~, unintelligible parentheses.More than once the laundress of the Terrain charged "with washing the chapter" had observed, not without affright, the marks of nails and clenched fingers on the surplice of monsieur the archdeacon of Josas.However, he redoubled his severity, and had never been more exemplary.By profession as well as by character, he had always held himself aloof from women; he seemed to hate them more than ever.The mere rustling of a silken petticoat caused his hood to fall over his eyes.Upon this score he was so jealous of austerity and reserve, that when the Dame de Beaujeu, the king's daughter, came to visit the cloister of Notre-Dame, in the month of December, 1481, he gravely opposed her entrance, reminding the bishop of the statute of the Black Book, dating from the vigil of Saint-Barthélemy, 1334, which interdicts access to the cloister to "any woman whatever, old or young, mistress or maid." Upon which the bishop had been constrained to recite to him the ordinance of Legate Odo, which excepts certain great dames, ~aliquoe magnates mulieres, quoe sine scandalo vitari non possunt~. And again the archdeacon had protested, objecting that the ordinance of the legate, which dated back to 1207, was anterior by a hundred and twenty-seven years to the Black Book, and consequently was abrogated in fact by it.And he had refused to appear before the princess.It was also noticed that his horror for Bohemian women and gypsies had seemed to redouble for some time past.He had petitioned the bishop for an edict which expressly forbade the Bohemian women to come and dance and beat their tambourines on the place of the parvis; and for about the same length of time, he had been ransacking the mouldy placards of the officialty, in order to collect the cases of sorcerers and witches condemned to fire or the rope, for complicity in crimes with rams, sows, or goats.
或许您还会喜欢:
闪灵
作者:佚名
章节:38 人气:2
摘要:记不得哪位哲人曾经这样说过:对艺术而言,人类的两种基本欲望只需极小的代价便可以挑动起来,那就是恐惧与性欲。对后者,非本文所涉及的话题,姑且略去。但是把恐惧带进我们的生活,却真的不难。最简单的方法:你可以躲在暗处,出奇不意地向某个路过此地的人大吼一声,你的目的就能达到。当然,前提是他不知道你要玩这个游戏。换句话说,就是对他要保证两个字——悬念。 [点击阅读]
零的焦点
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:2
摘要:秋天,经人做媒,板根祯子和鹈原宪一订了婚。祯子二十六岁,鹈原三十六岁。年龄倒很相配,但社会上看来,结婚似乎晚了点。“三十六岁还打光棍,不知过去有过什么事?”提亲时,祯子的母亲最为介意。也许有过什么事,三十六岁还没有碰过女人,似乎说不过去。但媒人说绝对没有。好像是在撒谎。作为一男人,也太懦弱了。工作已经多年,置身于男人世界里的份子是这样想的。事实上,和女人完全没交往的男人,会叫人瞧不起。 [点击阅读]
青鸟
作者:佚名
章节:9 人气:2
摘要:郑克鲁莫里斯·梅特林克(MauriceMaeterlinck,1862—1949),比利时象征派戏剧家。出生于公证人家庭,早年学习法律,毕业后随即到巴黎小住,结识了一些崇尚象征派诗歌的朋友,从此决定了他的文学生涯和创作倾向。他的第一部作品《温室》(1889)是象征派诗歌集。同年发表的剧本《玛莱娜公主》得到了法国评论界的重视,这个剧本第一次把象征主义手法运用到戏剧创作中。 [点击阅读]
1973年的弹子球
作者:佚名
章节:28 人气:2
摘要:喜欢听人讲陌生的地方,近乎病态地喜欢。有一段时间——10年前的事了——我不管三七二十一,逢人就问自己生身故乡和成长期间住过的地方的事。那个时代似乎极端缺乏愿意听人讲话那一类型的人,所以无论哪一个都对我讲得十分投入。甚至有素不相识的人在哪里听说我这个嗜好而特意跑来一吐为快。他们简直像往枯井里扔石子一样向我说各种各样——委实各种各样——的事,说罢全都心满意足地离去了。 [点击阅读]
1Q84 BOOK2
作者:佚名
章节:34 人气:2
摘要:&nbs;《1Q84BOOK2(7月-9月)》写一对十岁时相遇后便各奔东西的三十岁男女,相互寻觅对方的故事,并将这个简单故事变成复杂的长篇。我想将这个时代所有世态立体地写出,成为我独有的“综合小说”。超越纯文学这一类型,采取多种尝试。在当今时代的空气中嵌入人类的生命。 [点击阅读]
人间失格
作者:佚名
章节:21 人气:2
摘要:《人间失格》(又名《丧失为人的资格》)日本著名小说家太宰治最具影响力的小说作品,发表于1948年,是一部自传体的小说。纤细的自传体中透露出极致的颓废,毁灭式的绝笔之作。太宰治巧妙地将自己的人生与思想,隐藏于主角叶藏的人生遭遇,藉由叶藏的独白,窥探太宰治的内心世界,一个“充满了可耻的一生”。在发表这部作品的同年,太宰治就自杀身亡。 [点击阅读]
假戏成真
作者:佚名
章节:20 人气:2
摘要:接听电话的是波洛的能干秘书李蒙小姐。她把速记簿摆到一边去,拎起话筒,平淡的说,“屈拉法加8137。”赫邱里-波洛躺回直立的椅背上,闭起双眼。他的手指在桌缘上轻敲着,脑子里继续构思着原先正在口述的信文的优美段落。李蒙小姐手掩话筒,低声问说:“你要不要接听德文郡纳瑟坎伯打来的叫人电话?”波洛皱起眉头。这个地名对他毫无意义。“打电话的人叫什么名字?”他谨慎地问。李蒙小姐对着话筒讲话。 [点击阅读]
冰与火之歌5
作者:佚名
章节:73 人气:2
摘要:人味在夜空中飘荡。狼灵停在一棵树下,嗅了嗅,灰棕色毛皮上洒满了斑驳阴影。松林的风为他送来人味,里面混合着更淡的狐狸、兔子、海豹、鹿,甚至狼的气味。其实这些东西的气味也是人味:旧皮的臭气,死亡和酸败的气息,且被更浓烈的烟、血和腐物的味道所覆盖。只有人类才会剥取其他动物的毛皮毛发,穿戴起来。狼灵不怕人,就和狼一样。他腹中充满饥饿与仇恨,于是他发出一声低吼,呼唤他的独眼兄弟,呼唤他的狡猾小妹。 [点击阅读]
南非洲历险记
作者:佚名
章节:23 人气:2
摘要:南非洲历险记--第一章在奥兰治河边第一章在奥兰治河边1854年2月27日,有两个人躺在奥兰治河边一棵高大的垂柳下,一边闲谈一边全神贯注地观察着河面。这条被荷兰殖民者称作格鲁特河,被土著霍顿督人称作加列普的奥兰治河,可以与非洲大陆的三大动脉:尼罗河、尼日尔河和赞比西河相提并论。像这三大河流一样,它也有自己的高水位、急流和瀑布。 [点击阅读]
堂吉诃德
作者:佚名
章节:134 人气:2
摘要:【一】乍看似乎荒诞不经.实则隐含作者对西班牙现实深刻的理解.作者采用讽刺夸张的艺术手法.把现实与幻想结合起来.表达他对时代的见解.现实主义的描写在中占主导地位.在环境描写方面.与旧骑士小说的装饰性*风景描写截然不同.作者以史诗般的宏伟规模.以农村为主要舞台.出场以平民为主.人数近700多人.在这广阔的社会背景中.绘出一幅幅各具特色*又互相联系的社会画面.作者塑造人物的方法也是虚实结合的. [点击阅读]
天使与魔鬼
作者:丹·布朗
章节:86 人气:2
摘要:清晨五点,哈佛大学的宗教艺术史教授罗伯特.兰登在睡梦中被一阵急促的电话铃声吵醒。电话里的人自称是欧洲原子核研究组织的首领,名叫马克西米利安.科勒,他是在互联网上找到兰登的电话号码的。科勒急欲向他了解一个名为“光照派”的神秘组织。他告诉兰登他们那里刚刚发生了一起谋杀案。他把死者的照片传真给兰登,照片把兰登惊得目瞪口呆。 [点击阅读]
安妮日记英文版
作者:佚名
章节:192 人气:2
摘要:Frank and Mirjam Pressler Translated by Susan MassottyBOOK FLAPAnne Frank's The Diary of a Young Girl is among the most enduring documents of the twentieth century. [点击阅读]