CHAPTER II BLONDEAU'S FUNERAL ORATION BY BOSSUET







On a certain afternoon, which had, as will be seen hereafter, some coincidence with the events heretoforerelated, Laigle de Meaux was to be seen leaning in a sensual manner against the doorpost of the Cafe Musain. He had the air of a caryatid on a vacation; he carried nothing but his revery, however. He was staring at the Place Saint-Michel. To lean one's back against a thing is equivalent to lying down while standing erect, which attitude is not hated by thinkers. Laigle de Meaux was pondering without melancholy, over a little misadventure which had befallen him two days previously at the law-school, and which had modified his personal plans for the future, plans which were rather indistinct in any case.



Revery does not prevent a cab from passing by, nor the dreamer from taking note of that cab. Laigle de Meaux, whose eyes were straying about in a sort of diffuse lounging, perceived, athwart his somnambulism, a two-wheeled vehicleproceeding through the place, at a foot pace and apparently in indecision. For whom was this cabriolet? Why was it driving at a walk? Laigle took a survey. In it, beside the coachman, sat a young man, and in front of the young man lay a rather bulky hand-bag. The bag displayed to passers-by the following name inscribed in large black letters on a card which was sewn to the stuff: MARIUS PONTMERCY.



This name caused Laigle to change his attitude. He drew himself up and hurled this apostrophe at the young man in the cabriolet:--



"Monsieur Marius Pontmercy!"



The cabriolet thus addressed came to a halt.



The young man, who also seemed deeply buried in thought, raised his eyes:--



"Hey?" said he.



"You are M. Marius Pontmercy?"



"Certainly."



"I was looking for you," resumed Laigle de Meaux.



"How so?" demanded Marius; for it was he: in fact, he had just quitted his grandfather's, and had before him a face which he now beheld for the first time. "I do not know you."



"Neither do I know you," responded Laigle.



Marius thought he had encountered a wag, the beginning of a mystification in the open street. He was not in a very good humor at the moment. He frowned. Laigle de Mea}h went on imperturbably:--



"You were not at the school day before yesterday."



"That is possible."



"That is certain."



"You are a student?" demanded Marius.



"Yes, sir. Lh{e yourself. Day before yesterday, I entered the school, by chance. You know, one does have such freaks sometimes. The professor was just calling the roll. You are not unaware that they are very ridiculous on such occasions. At the third call, unanswered, your name is erased from the list. Sixty francs in the gulf."



Marius began to listen.



"It was Blondeau who was making the call. You know Blondeau, he has a very pointed and very malicious nose, and he delights to scent out the absent. He slyly began with the letter P. I was not listening, not being compromised by that letter. The call was not going badly. No erasures; the universe was present. Blondeau was grieved. I said to myslf: `Blondeau, my love, you wilh not get the very smallest sort of an execution to-day.' All at once Blondeau calls, `Marius Pontmercy!' No one answers. Blondeau, filled with hope, repeats more loudly: `Marius Pontmercy!' And he takes his pen. Monsieur, I have bowels of compassion. I said to myself hastily: `Here's a brave fellow who is going to get scratched out. Attention. Here is a veritablemortal who is not exact. He's not a good student. Here is none of your heavy-sides, a student who studies, a greenhorn pedant, strong on letters, theology, science, and sapience, one of those dull wits cut by the square; a pin by profession. He is an honorable idler who lounges, who practises country jaunts, who cultivates the grisette, who pays court to the fair sex, who is at this very moment, perhaps, with my mistress. Let us save him. Death to Blondeau!' At that moment, Blondeau dipped his pen in, all black with erasures in the ink, cast his yellow eyes round the audience room, and repeated for the third time: `Marius Pontmercy!' I replied: `Present!' This is why you were not crossed off."



"Monsieur!--" said Marius.



"And why I was," added Laigle de Meaux.



"I do not understand you," said Marius.



Laigle resumed:--



"Nothing is more simple. I was close to the desk to reply, and close to the door for the purpose of flight. The professor gazed at me with a certain intensity. All of a sudden, Blondeau, who must be the malicious nose alluded to by Boileau, skipped to the letter L. L is my letter. I am from Meaux, and my name is Lesgle."



"L'Aigle!" interrupted Marius, "what fine name!"



"Monsieur, Blondeau came to this fine name, and called: `Laigle!' I reply: `Present!' Then Blondeau gazes at me, with the gentleness of a tiger, and says to me: `lf you are Pontmercy, you are not Laigle.' A phrase which has a disobliging air for you, but which was lugubrious only for me. That said, he crossed me off."



Marius exclaimed:--



"I am mortified, sir--"



"First of all," interposed Laigle, "I demand permission to embalm Blondeau in a few phrases of deeply felt eulogium. I will assume that he is dead. There will be no great change required in his gauntness, in his pallor, in his coldness, and in his smell. And I say: `Erudimini qui judicatis terram. Here lies Blondeau, Blondeau the Nose, Blondeau Nasica, the ox of discipline, bos disciplinae, the bloodhound of the password, the angel of the roll-call, who was upright, square exact, rigid, honest, and hideous. God crossed him off as he crossed me off.'"



Marius resumed:--



"I am very sorry--"



"Young man," said Laigle de Meaux, "let this serve you as a lesson. In future, be exact."



"I really beg you a thousand pardons."



"Do not expose your neighbor to the danger of having his name erased again."



"I am extremely sorry--"



Laigle burst out laughing.



"And I am delighted. I was on the brink of becoming a lawyer. This erasure saves me. I renounce the triumphs of the bar. I shall not defend the widow, and I shall not attack the orphan. No more toga, no more stage. Here is my erasure all ready for me. It is to you that I am indebted for it, Monsieur Pontmercy. I intend to pay a solemn call of thanks upon you. Where do you live?"



"In this cab," said Marius.



"A sign of opulence," retorted Laigle calmly. "I congratulate you. You have there a rent of nine thousand francs per annum."



At that moment, Courfeyrac emerged from the cafe.



Marius smiled sadly.



"I have paid this rent for the last two hours, and I aspire to get rid of it; but there is a sort of history attached to it, and I don't know where to go."



"Come to my place, sir," said Courfeyrac.



"I have the priority," observed Laigle, "but I have no home."



"Hold your tongue, Bossuet," said Courfeyrac.



"Bossuet," said Marius, "but I thought that your name was Laigle."



"De Meaux," replied Laigle; "by metaphor, Bossuet."



Courfeyrac entered the cab.



"Coachman," said he, "hotel de la Porte-Saint-Jacques."



And that very evening, Marius found himself installed in a chamber of the hotel de la Porte-Saint-Jacques side by side with Courfeyrac.





二　悼勃隆多的诔词，博须埃作









某天下午----我们马上可以知道，正是我们在前面谈过的一些事发生的那天----赖格尔·德·莫正满腔心事地靠在缪尚咖啡馆的大门框上，活象是那门旁的一根人形石柱，显得百无聊赖，他心里除了杂乱的遐想以外便空无所有。他瞪眼望着米歇尔广场。用背靠在旁的东西上，那是一种立着睡觉的方式，是动脑筋的人乐于采用的。当时赖格尔·德·莫正想着心事，不在乎地想着他前天在法学院遇到的一件小小的倒霉事儿，这事把他一生的计划全打乱了，其实他那计划原来就不怎么清晰。



梦想并不妨碍一辆马车经过，梦想者也正瞧见了那辆马车。赖格尔·德·莫的眼睛原在漫无目标地东张西望，可是在这梦境中，他忽然看见一辆双轮马车在广场上慢慢走着，仿佛不知道往什么地方去。这马车在生谁的气呢？它为什么慢悠悠地走着呢？赖格尔朝它仔细望去。只见车夫旁边坐着一个年轻人，年轻人前面，有个大旅行袋。袋上缝了一张硬纸，上面写着几个大黑字：马吕斯·彭眉胥。



这名字改变了赖格尔的姿势。他立直了，对着马车上的年轻人喊道：



"马吕斯·彭眉胥先生！"



经他这一喊，马车停下来了。



那年轻人，仿佛也正在一心一意想着什么，这时抬起眼睛说：



"嗯？"



"您是马吕斯·彭眉胥先生吗？"



"不错。"



"我正要找您。"赖格尔·德·莫接着说。



"是吗？"马吕斯问，因为他正从外祖父家里出来，却遇到了这个初次见面的人，"我不认识您。"



"我也是这样，我一点也不认识您。"赖格尔回答。



马吕斯以为遇到了一个什么开玩笑的人，大白天捣鬼来了。他当时的心情是不好惹的，便皱起眉头。赖格尔不理会这些，继续往下说：



"您前天没有去学校吧？"



"可能没有去。"



"肯定没有去。"



"您是大学生吗？"马吕斯问。



"是的，先生，和您一样。前天我偶然到学校去了一趟。您知道，人们有时是会想起这些事的。那位教授正点着名。您不会不知道，现在的这些教授是非常可笑的。要是连喊三次没人答应，您的学籍便被勾销了。六十法郎白扔在河里。"



马吕斯开始注意听着。赖格尔继续说：



"点名的是勃隆多。您是认识勃隆多的，他那鼻子尖而诈，最爱追寻异味，嗅那些缺课的人。他不怀好意地从P字点起。我起初不在意，因为这个字母和我一点不相干。名点得很顺利。没有发生除名的事。整个宇宙的人全到了。勃隆多满脸愁容。我心里想：勃隆多，我的好宝贝，你今天总不会有开刀的机会了。突然，勃隆多喊'马吕斯·彭眉胥'。没人回答。勃隆多满怀希望，喊得更响一些：'马吕斯·彭眉胥'，同时拿起了他的笔。先生，我一向心肠软，赶忙对自己说：'又一个好孩子快要被开除了。留心。这确是一个没有时间观念的活死人。这不是一个好学生。这绝不是个铅屁股，一个用功的大学生，不是一个嘴上没毛，却又精通科学、文学、神学、哲学的吹牛客人，也不是一个那种用四个别针挂住四个学院绷得紧紧的书呆子。而是一个可敬可佩、东游西荡、喜欢游山玩水的懒汉，对轻佻的年轻女缝纫工感兴趣，奉承美丽的姑娘，此时此刻，他也许正在我的情妇家里呢。应当救他。揍死勃隆多！'这时，勃隆多正把他那管沾满了除名墨迹的鹅翎笔浸在墨汁里，睁圆那双阴鸷的眼睛，对着课堂来回扫射，第三次喊道：'马吕斯·彭眉胥！'我立刻应声：'到！'这样，您便没有被开除。"



"先生！......"马吕斯说。



"可我呢，我却被开除了。"赖格尔·德·莫说。



"怎么回事？我不懂。"马吕斯说。



赖格尔接下去说：



"再简单没有。我坐得既靠近讲台，又靠近课堂门，便于应卯，也便于开溜。那教授相当留神地注视着我。突然一下，勃隆多??他一定就是布瓦洛所说的那种奸诈鼻子??跳到了L栏。L是我的字母。我姓德·莫，名叫赖格尔。"



"赖格尔！"马吕斯插上一句，"这名字多漂亮！"



"先生，那勃隆多点到了这漂亮名字，喊道：'赖格尔！'我答应：'到！'这下，勃隆多用老虎的那种温柔神气望着我，笑容可掬地对我说：'您如果是彭眉胥，您就不会是赖格尔。'这话对您也许只是不大中听，而对我却是无比惨痛。他说过这话，便把我的名字涂掉了。"



马吕斯激动地说：



"先生，这，我真受不了......"



"首先，"赖格尔抢着说，"我要求用几句心坎上的话向勃隆多悼念一番。我假定他已经死了。这样做，并不见得会怎么歪曲他的那一身瘦骨头，那张苍白的脸，那股冷气，那种僵态和他的臭味。于是我说：'呜呼勃隆多，佳城卜于此，今当明汝过，勃隆多，鼻子真不错，勃隆多，鼻子真能嗅，讲纪律，性如牛，性如牛，罚禁闭，象条狗，点名象天神，耿直，方正，准确，僵硬，诚实又奇丑。上帝勾销了他，正如他勾销了我。'"



马吕斯跟着说：



"我真是抱歉......"



"年轻人，"赖格尔·德·莫说，"希望您能从这里吸取教训。今后，应当守时。"



"千言万语，说不尽我心里的懊悔。"



"不能再牵累您左右的人，害他们上不了学。"



"我真是懊丧极了......"



赖格尔放声大笑。



"而我，高兴极了。我正在堕落为律师，这一开除却救了我。我可以放弃法庭上的光荣了。我不用去保护什么寡妇，也不用去攻击什么孤儿，不必穿官袍，不必搞见习。我解脱了。这是由于您的栽培，彭眉胥先生。我一定要到府上作一次隆重的拜访，表示感谢。您住在什么地方？"



"就在这马车里。"马吕斯说。



"好阔气，"赖格尔一本正经地说，"敬佩之至。您在这上面每年就得花销九千法郎。"



这时，古费拉克从咖啡馆里走出来。



马吕斯苦笑着说：



"这花销，我已经背了两个钟头了，正打算结束呢，可是，一言难尽，我不知往哪儿去。"



"先生，"古费拉克说，"去我那儿。"



"这优先权原是属于我的，"赖格尔说，"可我没有家。"



"不用多话，博须埃。"古费拉克紧接着说。



"博须埃？"马吕斯说，"我好象听说您叫赖格尔。"



"德·莫，"赖格尔回答，"别名博须埃。"



古费拉克跨上马车。



"赶车的，"他说，"圣雅克门旅馆。"



当天晚上，马吕斯便住在圣雅克门旅馆的一间屋子里，挨着古费拉克的房间。
关键字:Les Miserables,悲惨世界 第三部马吕斯
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