按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
person buried here who didn't belong to the parish。 Everybody knows
everybody else in this place。 Does monsieurWhy； he's gone！〃
Some days had elapsed when a man dressed in black called at the house
of Monsieur Jules Desmarets； and without asking to see him carried up
to the chamber of his wife a large porphyry vase； on which were
inscribed the words：
INVITA LEGE
CONJUGI MOERENTI
FILIOLAE CINERES
RESTITUIT
AMICIS XII。 JUVANTIBUS
MORIBUNDUS PATER。
〃What a man！〃 cried Jules； bursting into tears。
Eight days sufficed the husband to obey all the wishes of his wife；
and to arrange his own affairs。 He sold his practice to a brother of
Martin Falleix； and left Paris while the authorities were still
discussing whether it was lawful for a citizen to dispose of the body
of his wife。
*****
Who has not encountered on the boulevards of Paris； at the turn of a
street； or beneath the arcades of the Palais…Royal； or in any part of
the world where chance may offer him the sight； a being； man or woman；
at whose aspect a thousand confused thoughts spring into his mind？ At
that sight we are suddenly interested； either by features of some
fantastic conformation which reveal an agitated life； or by a singular
effect of the whole person； produced by gestures； air； gait； clothes；
or by some deep； intense look； or by other inexpressible signs which
seize our minds suddenly and forcibly without our being able to
explain even to ourselves the cause of our emotion。 The next day other
thoughts and other images have carried out of sight that passing
dream。 But if we meet the same personage again； either passing at some
fixed hour； like the clerk of a mayor's office； or wandering about the
public promenades； like those individuals who seem to be a sort of
furniture of the streets of Paris； and who are always to be found in
public places； at first representations or noted restaurants；then
this being fastens himself or herself on our memory； and remains there
like the first volume of a novel the end of which is lost。 We are
tempted to question this unknown person； and say； 〃Who are you？〃 〃Why
are you lounging here？〃 〃By what right do you wear that pleated
ruffle； that faded waistcoat； and carry that cane with an ivory top；
why those blue spectacles； for what reason do you cling to that cravat
of a dead and gone fashion？〃 Among these wandering creations some
belong to the species of the Greek Hermae； they say nothing to the
soul； /they are there/； and that is all。 Why？ is known to none。 Such
figure are a type of those used by sculptors for the four Seasons； for
Commerce； for Plenty； etc。 Some othersformer lawyers； old merchants；
elderly generalsmove and walk； and yet seem stationary。 Like old
trees that are half uprooted by the current of a river； they seem
never to take part in the torrent of Paris； with its youthful； active
crowd。 It is impossible to know if their friends have forgotten to
bury them； or whether they have escaped out of their coffins。 At any
rate； they have reached the condition of semi…fossils。
One of these Parisian Melmoths had come within a few days into a
neighborhood of sober； quiet people； who； when the weather is fine；
are invariably to be found in the space which lies between the south
entrance of the Luxembourg and the north entrance of the Observatoire；
a space without a name； the neutral space of Paris。 There； Paris is
no longer； and there； Paris still lingers。 The spot is a mingling of
street； square； boulevard； fortification； garden； avenue； high…road；
province； and metropolis； certainly； all of that is to be found there；
and yet the place is nothing of all that；it is a desert。 Around this
spot without a name stand the Foundling hospital； the Bourbe； the
Cochin hospital； the Capucines； the hospital La Rochefoucauld； the
Deaf and Dumb Asylum； the hospital of the Val…de…Grace； in short； all
the vices and all the misfortunes of Paris find their asylum there。
And （that nothing may lack in this philanthropic centre） Science there
studies the tides and longitudes； Monsieur de Chateaubriand has
erected the Marie…Therese Infirmary； and the Carmelites have founded a
convent。 The great events of life are represented by bells which ring
incessantly through this desert；for the mother giving birth； for the
babe that is born； for the vice that succumbs； for the toiler who
dies； for the virgin who prays； for the old man shaking with cold； for
genius self…deluded。 And a few steps off is the cemetery of Mont…
Parnasse； where； hour after hour； the sorry funerals of the faubourg
Saint…Marceau wend their way。 This esplanade； which commands a view of
Paris； has been taken possession of by bowl…players； it is； in fact； a
sort of bowling green frequented by old gray faces； belonging to
kindly； worthy men； who seem to continue the race of our ancestors；
whose countenances must only be compared with those of their
surroundings。
The man who had become； during the last few days； an inhabitant of
this desert region； proved an assiduous attendant at these games of
bowls； and must； undoubtedly； be considered the most striking creature
of these various groups； who （if it is permissible to liken Parisians
to the different orders of zoology） belonged to the genus mollusk。 The
new…comer kept sympathetic step with the /cochonnet/；the little bowl
which serves as a goal and on which the interest of the game must
centre。 He leaned against a tree when the /cochonnet/ stopped； then；
with the same attention that a dog gives to his master's gestures； he
looked at the other bowls flying through the air； or rolling along the
ground。 You might have taken him for the weird and watchful genii of
the /cochonnet/。 He said nothing； and the bowl…playersthe most
fanatic men that can be encountered among the sectarians of any faith
had never asked the reason of his dogged silence； in fact； the most
observing of them thought him deaf and dumb。
When it happened that the distances between the bowls and the
/cochonnet/ had to be measured； the cane of this silent being was used
as a measure； the players coming up and taking it from the icy hands
of the old man and returning it without a word or even a sign of
friendliness。 The loan of his cane seemed a servitude to which he had
negatively consented。 When a shower fell； he stayed near the
/cochonnet/； the slave of the bowls； and the guardian of the
unfinished game。 Rain affected him no more than the fine weather did；
he was； like the players themselves； an intermediary species between a
Parisian who has the lowest intellect of his kind and an animal which
has the highest。
In other respects； pallid and shrunken； indifferent to his own person；
vacant in mind； he often came bareheaded； showing his sparse white
hair； and his square； yellow； bald skull； like the knee of a beggar
seen through his tattered trousers。 His mouth was half…open； no ideas
were in his glance； no precise object appeared in his movements； he
never smiled； he never raised his eyes to heaven； but kept them
habitually on the ground； where he seemed to be looking for something。
At four o'clock an old woman arrived； to take him Heaven knows where；
which she did by towing him along by the arm； as a young girl drags a
wilful goat which still wants to browse by the wayside。 This old man
was a horrible thing to see。
In the afternoon of the day when Jules Desmarets left Paris； his
travelling…carriage； in which he was alone； passed rapidly through the
rue de l'Est； and came out upon the esplanade of the Observatoire at
the moment when the old man； leaning against a tree； had allowed his
cane to be taken from his hand amid the noisy vociferations of the
players； pacifically irritated。 Jules； thinking that he recognized
that face； felt an impulse to stop； and at the same instant the
carriage came to a standstill； for the postilion； hemmed in by some
handcarts； had too much respect for the game to call upon the players
to make way for him。
〃It is he！〃 said Jules； beholding in that human wreck； Ferragus
XXIII。； chief of the Devorants。 Then； after a pause； he added； 〃How he
loved her！Go on； postilion。〃
End