章节正文
Goriot, Rastignac watched as though in a dream how Mme. Vauquer
busied herself by collecting the bottles, and drained the
remainder of the wine out of each to fill others.
"Oh! how uproarious they are! what a thing it is to be young!"
said the widow.
These were the last words that Eugene heard and understood.
"There is no one like M. Vautrin for a bit of fun like this,"
said Sylvie. "There, just hark at Christophe, he is snoring like
a top."
"Good-bye, mamma," said Vautrin; "I am going to a theatre on the
boulevard to see M. Marty in Le Mont Sauvage, a fine play taken
from Le Solitaire. . . . If you like, I will take you and these
two ladies----"
"Thank you; I must decline," said Mme. Couture.
"What! my good lady!" cried Mme. Vauquer, "decline to see a play
founded on the Le Solitaire, a work by Atala de Chateaubriand? We
were so fond of that book that we cried over it like Magdalens
under the line-trees last summer, and then it is an improving
work that might edify your young lady."
"We are forbidden to go to the play," answered Victorine.
"Just look, those two yonder have dropped off where they sit,"
said Vautrin, shaking the heads of the two sleepers in a comical
way.
He altered the sleeping student's position, settled his head more
comfortably on the back of his chair, kissed him warmly on the
forehead, and began to sing:
"Sleep, little darlings;
I watch while you slumber."
"I am afraid he may be ill," said Victorine.
"Then stop and take care of him," returned Vautrin. " 'Tis your
duty as a meek and obedient wife," he whispered in her ear. "the
young fellow worships you, and you will be his little wife--
there's your fortune for you. In short," he added aloud, "they
lived happily ever afterwards, were much looked up to in all the
countryside, and had a numerous family. That is how all the
romances end.--Now, mamma," he went on, as he turned to Madame
Vauquer and put his arm round her waist, "put on your bonnet,
your best flowered silk, and the countess' scarf, while I go out
and call a cab--all my own self."
And he started out, singing as he went:
"Oh! sun! divine sun!
Ripening the pumpkins every one."
"My goodness! Well, I'm sure! Mme. Couture, I could live happily
in a garret with a man like that.--There, now!" she added,
looking round for the old vermicelli maker, "there is that Father
Goriot half seas over. HE never thought of taking me anywhere,
the old skinflint. But he will measure his length somewhere. My
word! it is disgraceful to lose his senses like that, at his age!
You will be telling me that he couldn't lose what he hadn't got--
Sylvie, just take him up to his room!"
Sylvie took him by the arm, supported him upstairs, and flung him
just as he was, like a package, across the bed.
"Poor young fellow!" said Mme. Couture, putting back Eugene's
hair that had fallen over his eyes; "he is like a young girl, he
does not know what dissipation is."
"Well, I can tell you this, I know," said Mme. Vauquer, "I have
taken lodgers these thirty years, and a good many have passed
through my hands, as the saying is, but I have never seen a nicer
nor a more aristocratic looking young man than M. Eugene. How
handsome he looks sleeping! Just let his head rest on your
shoulder, Mme. Couture. Pshaw! he falls over towards Mlle.
Victorine. There's a special providence for young things. A
little more, and he would have broken his head against the knob
of the chair. They'd make a pretty pair those two would!"
"Hush, my good neighbor," cried Mme. Couture, "you are saying
such things----"
"Pooh!" put in Mme. Vauquer, "he does not hear.--Here, Sylvie!
come and help me to dress. I shall put on my best stays."
"What! your best stays just after dinner, madame?" said Sylvie.
"No, you can get some one else to lace you. I am not going to be
your murderer. It's a rash thing to do, and might cost you your
life."
"I don't care, I must do honor to M. Vautrin."
"Are you so fond of your heirs as all that?"
"Come, Sylvie, don't argue," said the widow, as she left the
room.
"At her age, too!" said the cook to Victorine, pointing to her
mistress as she spoke.
Mme. Couture and her ward were left in the dining-room, and
Eugene slept on Victorine's shoulder. The sound of Christophe's
snoring echoed through the silent house; Eugene's quiet breathing
seemed all the quieter by force of contrast, he was sleeping as
peacefully as a child. Victorine was very happy; she was free to
perform one of those acts of charity which form an innocent
outlet for all the overflowing sentiments of a woman's nature; he
was so close to her that she could feel the throbbing of his
heart; there was a look of almost maternalprotection and
conscious pride in Victorine's face. Among the countless thoughts
that crowded up in her young innocent heart, there was a wild
flutter of joy at this close contact.
"Poor, dear child!" said Mme. Couture, squeezing her hand.
The old lady looked at the girl. Victorine's innocent, pathetic
face, so radiant with the new happiness that had befallen her,
called to mind some naive work of mediaeval art, when the painter
neglected the accessories, reserving all the magic of his brush
for the quiet, austere outlines and ivory tints of the face,
which seems to have caught something of the golden glory of
heaven.
"After all, he only took two glasses, mamma," said Victorine,
passing her fingers through Eugene's hair.
"Indeed, if he had been a dissipated young man, child, he would
have carried his wine like the rest of them. His drowsiness does
him credit."
There was a sound of wheels outside in the street.
"There is M. Vautrin, mamma," said the girl. "Just take M.
Eugene. I would rather not have that man see me like this; there
are some ways of looking at you that seem to sully your soul and
make you feel as though you had nothing on."
"Oh, no, you are wrong!" said Mme. Couture. "M. Vautrin is a
worthy man; he reminds me a little of my late husband, poor dear
M. Couture, rough but kind-hearted; his bark is worse than his
bite."
Vautrin came in while she was speaking; he did not make a sound,
but looked for a while at the picture of the two young faces--the
lamplight falling full upon them seemed to caress them.
"Well," he remarked, folding his arms, "here is a picture! It
would have suggested some pleasing pages to Bernardin de Saint-
Pierre (good soul), who wrote Paul et Virginie. Youth is very
charming, Mme. Couture!--Sleep on, poor boy," he added, looking
at Eugene, "luck sometimes comes while you are sleeping.--There
is something touching and attractive to me about this young man,
madame," he continued; "I know that his nature is in harmony with
his face. Just look, the head of a cherub on an angel's shoulder!
He deserves to be loved. If I were a woman, I would die (no--not
such a fool), I would live for him." He bent lower and spoke in
the widow's ear. "When I see those two together, madame, I cannot
help thinking that Providence meant them for each other; He works
by secret ways, and tries the reins and the heart," he said in a
loud voice. "And when I see you, my children, thus united by a
like purity and by all human affections, I say to myself that it
is quite impossible that the future should separate you. God is
just."--He turned to Victorine. "It seems to me," he said, "that
I have seen the line of success in your hand. Let me look at it,
Mlle. Victorine; I am well up in palmistry, and I have told
fortunes many a time. Come, now, don't be frightened. Ah! what do
I see? Upon my word, you will be one of the richest heiresses in
Paris before very long. You will heap riches on the man who loves
you. Your father will want you to go and live with him. You will
marry a young and handsome man with a title, and he will idolize
you."
The heavy footsteps of the coquettish widow, who was coming down
the stairs, interrupted Vautrin's fortune-telling. "Here is Mamma
Vauquerre, fair as a starr-r-r, dressed within an inch of her
life.--Aren't we a trifle pinched for room?" he inquired, with
his arm round the lady; "we are screwed up very tightly about the
bust, mamma! If we are much agitated, there may be an explosion;
but I will pick up the fragments with all the care of an
antiquary."
"There is a man who can talk the language of French gallantry!"
said the widow, bending to speak in Mme. Couture's ear.
"Good-bye, little ones!" said Vautrin, turning to Eugene and
Victorine. "Bless you both!" and he laid a hand on either head.
"Take my word for it, young lady, an honest man's prayers are
worth something; they should bring you happiness, for God hears
them."
"Good-bye, dear," said Mme. Vauquer to her lodger. "Do you think
that M. Vautrin means to run away with me?" she added, lowering
her voice.
"Lack-a-day!" said the widow.
"Oh! mamma dear, suppose it should really happen as that kind M.
Vautrin said!" said Victorine with a sigh as she looked at her
hands. The two women were alone together.
"Why, it wouldn't take much to bring it to pass," said the
elderly lady; "just a fall from his horse, and your monster of a
brother----"
"Oh! mamma."
"Good Lord! Well, perhaps it is a sin to wish bad luck to an
enemy," the widow remarked. "I will do penance for it. Still, I
would strew flowers on his grave with the greatest pleasure, and
that is the truth. Black-hearted, that he is! The coward couldn't
speak up for his own mother, and cheats you out of your share by
deceit and trickery. My cousin had a pretty fortune of her own,
but unluckily for you, nothing was said in the marriage-contract
about anything that she might come in for."
"It would be very hard if my fortune is to cost some one else his
life," said Victorine. "If I cannot be happy unless my brother is
to be taken out of the world, I would rather stay here all my
life."
"MON DIEU! it is just as that good M. Vautrin says, and he is
full of piety, you see," Mme. Couture remarked. "I am very glad
to find that he is not an unbeliever like the rest of them that
talk of the Almighty with less respect than they do of the Devil.
Well, as he was saying, who can know the ways by which it may
please Providence to lead us?"
With Sylvie's help the two women at last succeeded in getting
Eugene up to his room; they laid him on the bed, and the cook
unfastened his clothes to make him more comfortable. Before they
left the room, Victorine snatched an opportunity when her
guardian's back was turned, and pressed a kiss on Eugene's
forehead, feeling all the joy that this stolen pleasure could
give her. Then she looked round the room, and gathering up, as it
were, into one single thought all the untold bliss of that day,
she made a picture of her memories, and dwelt upon it until she
slept, the happiest creature in Paris.
That evening's merry-making, in the course of which Vautrin had
given the drugged wine to Eugene and Father Goriot, was his own
ruin. Bianchon, flustered with wine, forgot to open the subject
of Trompe-la-Mort with Mlle. Michonneau. The mere mention of the
name would have set Vautrin on his guard; for Vautrin, or, to
give him his real name, Jacques Collin, was in fact the notorious
escaped convict.
busied herself by collecting the bottles, and drained the
remainder of the wine out of each to fill others.
"Oh! how uproarious they are! what a thing it is to be young!"
said the widow.
These were the last words that Eugene heard and understood.
"There is no one like M. Vautrin for a bit of fun like this,"
said Sylvie. "There, just hark at Christophe, he is snoring like
a top."
"Good-bye, mamma," said Vautrin; "I am going to a theatre on the
boulevard to see M. Marty in Le Mont Sauvage, a fine play taken
from Le Solitaire. . . . If you like, I will take you and these
two ladies----"
"Thank you; I must decline," said Mme. Couture.
"What! my good lady!" cried Mme. Vauquer, "decline to see a play
founded on the Le Solitaire, a work by Atala de Chateaubriand? We
were so fond of that book that we cried over it like Magdalens
under the line-trees last summer, and then it is an improving
work that might edify your young lady."
"We are forbidden to go to the play," answered Victorine.
"Just look, those two yonder have dropped off where they sit,"
said Vautrin, shaking the heads of the two sleepers in a comical
way.
He altered the sleeping student's position, settled his head more
comfortably on the back of his chair, kissed him warmly on the
forehead, and began to sing:
"Sleep, little darlings;
I watch while you slumber."
"I am afraid he may be ill," said Victorine.
"Then stop and take care of him," returned Vautrin. " 'Tis your
duty as a meek and obedient wife," he whispered in her ear. "the
young fellow worships you, and you will be his little wife--
there's your fortune for you. In short," he added aloud, "they
lived happily ever afterwards, were much looked up to in all the
countryside, and had a numerous family. That is how all the
romances end.--Now, mamma," he went on, as he turned to Madame
Vauquer and put his arm round her waist, "put on your bonnet,
your best flowered silk, and the countess' scarf, while I go out
and call a cab--all my own self."
And he started out, singing as he went:
"Oh! sun! divine sun!
Ripening the pumpkins every one."
"My goodness! Well, I'm sure! Mme. Couture, I could live happily
in a garret with a man like that.--There, now!" she added,
looking round for the old vermicelli maker, "there is that Father
Goriot half seas over. HE never thought of taking me anywhere,
the old skinflint. But he will measure his length somewhere. My
word! it is disgraceful to lose his senses like that, at his age!
You will be telling me that he couldn't lose what he hadn't got--
Sylvie, just take him up to his room!"
Sylvie took him by the arm, supported him upstairs, and flung him
just as he was, like a package, across the bed.
"Poor young fellow!" said Mme. Couture, putting back Eugene's
hair that had fallen over his eyes; "he is like a young girl, he
does not know what dissipation is."
"Well, I can tell you this, I know," said Mme. Vauquer, "I have
taken lodgers these thirty years, and a good many have passed
through my hands, as the saying is, but I have never seen a nicer
nor a more aristocratic looking young man than M. Eugene. How
handsome he looks sleeping! Just let his head rest on your
shoulder, Mme. Couture. Pshaw! he falls over towards Mlle.
Victorine. There's a special providence for young things. A
little more, and he would have broken his head against the knob
of the chair. They'd make a pretty pair those two would!"
"Hush, my good neighbor," cried Mme. Couture, "you are saying
such things----"
"Pooh!" put in Mme. Vauquer, "he does not hear.--Here, Sylvie!
come and help me to dress. I shall put on my best stays."
"What! your best stays just after dinner, madame?" said Sylvie.
"No, you can get some one else to lace you. I am not going to be
your murderer. It's a rash thing to do, and might cost you your
life."
"I don't care, I must do honor to M. Vautrin."
"Are you so fond of your heirs as all that?"
"Come, Sylvie, don't argue," said the widow, as she left the
room.
"At her age, too!" said the cook to Victorine, pointing to her
mistress as she spoke.
Mme. Couture and her ward were left in the dining-room, and
Eugene slept on Victorine's shoulder. The sound of Christophe's
snoring echoed through the silent house; Eugene's quiet breathing
seemed all the quieter by force of contrast, he was sleeping as
peacefully as a child. Victorine was very happy; she was free to
perform one of those acts of charity which form an innocent
outlet for all the overflowing sentiments of a woman's nature; he
was so close to her that she could feel the throbbing of his
heart; there was a look of almost maternalprotection and
conscious pride in Victorine's face. Among the countless thoughts
that crowded up in her young innocent heart, there was a wild
flutter of joy at this close contact.
"Poor, dear child!" said Mme. Couture, squeezing her hand.
The old lady looked at the girl. Victorine's innocent, pathetic
face, so radiant with the new happiness that had befallen her,
called to mind some naive work of mediaeval art, when the painter
neglected the accessories, reserving all the magic of his brush
for the quiet, austere outlines and ivory tints of the face,
which seems to have caught something of the golden glory of
heaven.
"After all, he only took two glasses, mamma," said Victorine,
passing her fingers through Eugene's hair.
"Indeed, if he had been a dissipated young man, child, he would
have carried his wine like the rest of them. His drowsiness does
him credit."
There was a sound of wheels outside in the street.
"There is M. Vautrin, mamma," said the girl. "Just take M.
Eugene. I would rather not have that man see me like this; there
are some ways of looking at you that seem to sully your soul and
make you feel as though you had nothing on."
"Oh, no, you are wrong!" said Mme. Couture. "M. Vautrin is a
worthy man; he reminds me a little of my late husband, poor dear
M. Couture, rough but kind-hearted; his bark is worse than his
bite."
Vautrin came in while she was speaking; he did not make a sound,
but looked for a while at the picture of the two young faces--the
lamplight falling full upon them seemed to caress them.
"Well," he remarked, folding his arms, "here is a picture! It
would have suggested some pleasing pages to Bernardin de Saint-
Pierre (good soul), who wrote Paul et Virginie. Youth is very
charming, Mme. Couture!--Sleep on, poor boy," he added, looking
at Eugene, "luck sometimes comes while you are sleeping.--There
is something touching and attractive to me about this young man,
madame," he continued; "I know that his nature is in harmony with
his face. Just look, the head of a cherub on an angel's shoulder!
He deserves to be loved. If I were a woman, I would die (no--not
such a fool), I would live for him." He bent lower and spoke in
the widow's ear. "When I see those two together, madame, I cannot
help thinking that Providence meant them for each other; He works
by secret ways, and tries the reins and the heart," he said in a
loud voice. "And when I see you, my children, thus united by a
like purity and by all human affections, I say to myself that it
is quite impossible that the future should separate you. God is
just."--He turned to Victorine. "It seems to me," he said, "that
I have seen the line of success in your hand. Let me look at it,
Mlle. Victorine; I am well up in palmistry, and I have told
fortunes many a time. Come, now, don't be frightened. Ah! what do
I see? Upon my word, you will be one of the richest heiresses in
Paris before very long. You will heap riches on the man who loves
you. Your father will want you to go and live with him. You will
marry a young and handsome man with a title, and he will idolize
you."
The heavy footsteps of the coquettish widow, who was coming down
the stairs, interrupted Vautrin's fortune-telling. "Here is Mamma
Vauquerre, fair as a starr-r-r, dressed within an inch of her
life.--Aren't we a trifle pinched for room?" he inquired, with
his arm round the lady; "we are screwed up very tightly about the
bust, mamma! If we are much agitated, there may be an explosion;
but I will pick up the fragments with all the care of an
antiquary."
"There is a man who can talk the language of French gallantry!"
said the widow, bending to speak in Mme. Couture's ear.
"Good-bye, little ones!" said Vautrin, turning to Eugene and
Victorine. "Bless you both!" and he laid a hand on either head.
"Take my word for it, young lady, an honest man's prayers are
worth something; they should bring you happiness, for God hears
them."
"Good-bye, dear," said Mme. Vauquer to her lodger. "Do you think
that M. Vautrin means to run away with me?" she added, lowering
her voice.
"Lack-a-day!" said the widow.
"Oh! mamma dear, suppose it should really happen as that kind M.
Vautrin said!" said Victorine with a sigh as she looked at her
hands. The two women were alone together.
"Why, it wouldn't take much to bring it to pass," said the
elderly lady; "just a fall from his horse, and your monster of a
brother----"
"Oh! mamma."
"Good Lord! Well, perhaps it is a sin to wish bad luck to an
enemy," the widow remarked. "I will do penance for it. Still, I
would strew flowers on his grave with the greatest pleasure, and
that is the truth. Black-hearted, that he is! The coward couldn't
speak up for his own mother, and cheats you out of your share by
deceit and trickery. My cousin had a pretty fortune of her own,
but unluckily for you, nothing was said in the marriage-contract
about anything that she might come in for."
"It would be very hard if my fortune is to cost some one else his
life," said Victorine. "If I cannot be happy unless my brother is
to be taken out of the world, I would rather stay here all my
life."
"MON DIEU! it is just as that good M. Vautrin says, and he is
full of piety, you see," Mme. Couture remarked. "I am very glad
to find that he is not an unbeliever like the rest of them that
talk of the Almighty with less respect than they do of the Devil.
Well, as he was saying, who can know the ways by which it may
please Providence to lead us?"
With Sylvie's help the two women at last succeeded in getting
Eugene up to his room; they laid him on the bed, and the cook
unfastened his clothes to make him more comfortable. Before they
left the room, Victorine snatched an opportunity when her
guardian's back was turned, and pressed a kiss on Eugene's
forehead, feeling all the joy that this stolen pleasure could
give her. Then she looked round the room, and gathering up, as it
were, into one single thought all the untold bliss of that day,
she made a picture of her memories, and dwelt upon it until she
slept, the happiest creature in Paris.
That evening's merry-making, in the course of which Vautrin had
given the drugged wine to Eugene and Father Goriot, was his own
ruin. Bianchon, flustered with wine, forgot to open the subject
of Trompe-la-Mort with Mlle. Michonneau. The mere mention of the
name would have set Vautrin on his guard; for Vautrin, or, to
give him his real name, Jacques Collin, was in fact the notorious
escaped convict.
- sleeping [´sli:piŋ]
n.&a.睡着(的) (初中英语单词) - divine [di´vain] a.神圣的 v.预言 (初中英语单词)
- measure [´meʒə] n.量度；范围 vt.测量 (初中英语单词)
- package [´pækidʒ] n.包(裹) vt.组装 (初中英语单词)
- contrast [´kɔntrɑ:st] n.对比 v.使对比(照) (初中英语单词)
- protection [prə´tekʃən] n.警戒；护照；通行证 (初中英语单词)
- innocent [´inəsənt] a.无罪的；单纯的 (初中英语单词)
- attractive [ə´træktiv] a.有吸引力；诱人的 (初中英语单词)
- harmony [´hɑ:məni] n.调合，协调，和谐 (初中英语单词)
- purity [´pjuəriti] n.纯净；贞洁 (初中英语单词)
- riches [´ritʃiz] n.房地产；丰富 (初中英语单词)
- trifle [´traifəl] n.琐事，小事；少量 (初中英语单词)
- monster [´mɔnstə] n.怪物 a.大得异常的 (初中英语单词)
- coward [´kauəd] n.胆怯者 a.胆小的 (初中英语单词)
- stolen [´stəulən] steal 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- forbidden [fə´bidn] forbid的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- murderer [´mə:dərə] n.杀人犯，凶手 (高中英语单词)
- charity [´tʃæriti] n.施舍；慈悲；博爱 (高中英语单词)
- countless [´kauntlis] a.无数的 (高中英语单词)
- crowded [´kraudid] a.充(拥)满了的 (高中英语单词)
- radiant [´reidiənt] a.发光的 n.光源(体) (高中英语单词)
- caress [kə´res] n.&vt.爱抚；接吻 (高中英语单词)
- pleasing [´pli:ziŋ] a.使人愉快的；合意的 (高中英语单词)
- tightly [´taitli] ad.紧，紧密地 (高中英语单词)
- convict [kən´vikt, ´kɔnvikt] vt.证明...有罪 n.罪犯 (高中英语单词)
- obedient [ə´bi:djənt] a.服从的，恭顺的 (英语四级单词)
- garret [´gærit] n.阁楼，顶楼 (英语四级单词)
- upstairs [,ʌp´steəz] ad.在楼上 a.楼上的 (英语四级单词)
- aristocratic [,æristə´krætik] a.贵族政治的；贵族的 (英语四级单词)
- providence [´prɔvidəns] n.天意，天命，上帝 (英语四级单词)
- maternal [mə´tə:nl] a.母亲的；母性(系)的 (英语四级单词)
- befallen [bi´fɔ:lən] befall的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- austere [ɔ´stiə] a.严峻(格)的；质朴的 (英语四级单词)
- touching [´tʌtʃiŋ] a.动人的 prep.提到 (英语四级单词)
- almighty [ɔ:l´maiti] a.万能的；全能的 (英语四级单词)
- gathering [´gæðəriŋ] n.集会，聚集 (英语四级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- disgraceful [dis´greisful] a.可耻的；不光彩的 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- cherub [´tʃerəb] n.小天使 (英语六级单词)
- penance [´penəns] n.悔过；(赎罪的)苦行 (英语六级单词)
- untold [,ʌn´təuld] a.没有说到的；无数的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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