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第10章

雨果 悲惨世界 英文版1-第10章

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  Apart from the Revolution; which; taken as a whole; is an immense human affirmation; '93 is; alas! a rejoinder。 You think it inexorable; sir; but what of the whole monarchy; sir? Carrier is a bandit; but what name do you give to Montrevel? Fouquier…Tainville is a rascal; but what is your opinion as to Lamoignon…Baville? Maillard is terrible; but Saulx…Tavannes; if you please?
  Duchene senior is ferocious; but what epithet will you allow me for the elder Letellier?
  Jourdan…Coupe…Tete is a monster; but not so great a one as M。 the Marquis de Louvois。 Sir; sir; I am sorry for Marie Antoinette; archduchess and queen; but I am also sorry for that poor Huguenot woman; who; in 1685; under Louis the Great; sir; while with a nursing infant; was bound; naked to the waist; to a stake; and the child kept at a distance; her breast swelled with milk and her heart with anguish; the little one; hungry and pale; beheld that breast and cried and agonized; the executioner said to the woman; a mother and a nurse; ‘Abjure!' giving her her choice between the death of her infant and the death of her conscience。
  What say you to that torture of Tantalus as applied to a mother?
  Bear this well in mind sir: the French Revolution had its reasons for existence; its wrath will be absolved by the future; its result is the world made better。 From its most terrible blows there es forth a caress for the human race。
  I abridge; I stop; I have too much the advantage; moreover; I am dying。〃
  And ceasing to gaze at the Bishop; the conventionary concluded his thoughts in these tranquil words:
  〃Yes; the brutalities of progress are called revolutions。 When they are over; this fact is recognized;that the human race has been treated harshly; but that it has progressed。〃
  The conventionary doubted not that he had successively conquered all the inmost intrenchments of the Bishop。
  One remained; however; and from this intrenchment; the last resource of Monseigneur Bienvenu's resistance; came forth this reply; wherein appeared nearly all the harshness of the beginning:
  〃Progress should believe in God。
  Good cannot have an impious servitor。 He who is an atheist is but a bad leader for the human race。〃
  The former representative of the people made no reply。
  He was seized with a fit of trembling。
  He looked towards heaven; and in his glance a tear gathered slowly。
  When the eyelid was full; the tear trickled down his livid cheek; and he said; almost in a stammer; quite low; and to himself; while his eyes were plunged in the depths:
  〃O thou!
  O ideal!
  Thou alone existest!〃
  The Bishop experienced an indescribable shock。
  After a pause; the old man raised a finger heavenward and said:
  〃The infinite is。
  He is there。
  If the infinite had no person; person would be without limit; it would not be infinite; in other words; it would not exist。
  There is; then; an _I_。 That _I_ of the infinite is God。〃
  The dying man had pronounced these last words in a loud voice; and with the shiver of ecstasy; as though he beheld some one。 When he had spoken; his eyes closed。
  The effort had exhausted him。 It was evident that he had just lived through in a moment the few hours which had been left to him。
  That which he had said brought him nearer to him who is in death。
  The supreme moment was approaching。
  The Bishop understood this; time pressed; it was as a priest that he had e:
  from extreme coldness he had passed by degrees to extreme emotion; he gazed at those closed eyes; he took that wrinkled; aged and ice…cold hand in his; and bent over the dying man。
  〃This hour is the hour of God。
  Do you not think that it would be regrettable if we had met in vain?〃
  The conventionary opened his eyes again。
  A gravity mingled with gloom was imprinted on his countenance。
  〃Bishop;〃 said he; with a slowness which probably arose more from his dignity of soul than from the failing of his strength; 〃I have passed my life in meditation; study; and contemplation。 I was sixty years of age when my country called me and manded me to concern myself with its affairs。
  I obeyed。
  Abuses existed; I bated them; tyrannies existed; I destroyed them; rights and principles existed; I proclaimed and confessed them。
  Our territory was invaded; I defended it; France was menaced; I offered my breast。 I was not rich; I am poor。
  I have been one of the masters of the state; the vaults of the treasury were encumbered with specie to such a degree that we were forced to shore up the walls; which were on the point of bursting beneath the weight of gold and silver; I dined in Dead Tree Street; at twenty…two sous。 I have succored the oppressed; I have forted the suffering。 I tore the cloth from the altar; it is true; but it was to bind up the wounds of my country。
  I have always upheld the march forward of the human race; forward towards the light; and I have sometimes resisted progress without pity。
  I have; when the occasion offered; protected my own adversaries; men of your profession。
  And there is at Peteghem; in Flanders; at the very spot where the Merovingian kings had their summer palace; a convent of Urbanists; the Abbey of Sainte Claire en Beaulieu; which I saved in 1793。
  I have done my duty according to my powers; and all the good that I was able。 After which; I was hunted down; pursued; persecuted; blackened; jeered at; scorned; cursed; proscribed。
  For many years past; I with my white hair have been conscious that many people think they have the right to despise me; to the poor ignorant masses I present the visage of one damned。
  And I accept this isolation of hatred; without hating any one myself。
  Now I am eighty…six years old; I am on the point of death。
  What is it that you have e to ask of me?〃
  〃Your blessing;〃 said the Bishop。
  And he knelt down。
  When the Bishop raised his head again; the face of the conventionary had bee august。
  He had just expired。
  The Bishop returned home; deeply absorbed in thoughts which cannot be known to us。
  He passed the whole night in prayer。 On the following morning some bold and curious persons attempted to speak to him about member of the Convention G; he contented himself with pointing heavenward。
  From that moment he redoubled his tenderness and brotherly feeling towards all children and sufferers。
  Any allusion to 〃that old wretch of a G〃 caused him to fall into a singular preoccupation。
  No one could say that the passage of that soul before his; and the reflection of that grand conscience upon his; did not count for something in his approach to perfection。
  This 〃pastoral visit〃 naturally furnished an occasion for a murmur of ment in all the little local coteries。
  〃Was the bedside of such a dying man as that the proper place for a bishop?
  There was evidently no conversion to be expected。 All those revolutionists are backsliders。
  Then why go there? What was there to be seen there?
  He must have been very curious indeed to see a soul carried off by the devil。〃
  One day a dowager of the impertinent variety who thinks herself spiritual; addressed this sally to him; 〃Monseigneur; people are inquiring when Your Greatness will receive the red cap!〃〃Oh! oh! that's a coarse color;〃 replied the Bishop。 〃It is lucky that those who despise it in a cap revere it in a hat。〃


BOOK FIRSTA JUST MAN
CHAPTER XI 
  A RESTRICTION
   We should incur a great risk of deceiving ourselves; were we to conclude from this that Monseigneur Wele was 〃a philosophical bishop;〃 or a 〃patriotic cure。〃
  His meeting; which may almost be designated as his union; with conventionary G; left behind it in his mind a sort of astonishment; which rendered him still more gentle。 That is all。
  Although Monseigneur Bienvenu was far from being a politician; this is; perhaps; the place to indicate very briefly what his attitude was in the events of that epoch; supposing that Monseigneur Bienvenu ever dreamed of having an attitude。
  Let us; then; go back a few years。
  Some time after the elevation of M。 Myriel to the episcopate; the Emperor had made him a baron of the Empire; in pany with many other bishops。
  The arrest of the Pope took place; as every one knows; on the night of the 5th to the 6th of July; 1809; on this occasion; M。 Myriel was summoned by Napoleon to the synod of the bishops of France and Italy convened at Paris。
  This synod was held at Notre…Dame; and assembled for the first time on the 15th of June; 1811; under the presidency of Cardinal Fesch。
  M。 Myriel was one of the ninety…five bishops who attended it。
  But he was present only at one sitting and at three or four private conferences。 Bishop of a mountain diocese; living so very close to nature; in rusticity and deprivation; it appeared that he imported among these eminent personages; ideas which altered the temperature of the assembly。
  He very soon returned to D He was interrogated as to this speedy return; and he replied:
  〃I embarrassed them。 The outside air penetrated to them through me。
  I produced on them the effect of an open door。〃
  On another occasion he said; 〃What would you have?
  Those gentlemen are princes。
  I am only a poor peasant bishop。〃
  The fact is that he displeased them。
  Among other strange things; it is said that he chanced to remark one evening; when he found himself at the house of one of his most notable colleagues:
  〃What beautiful clocks!
  What beautiful carpets!
  What beautiful liveries! They must be a great trouble。
  I would not have all those superfluities; crying incessantly in my ears:
  ‘There are people who are hungry! There are people who are cold!
  There are poor people!
  There are poor people!'〃
  Let us remark; by the way; that the hatred of luxury is not an intelligent hatred。
  This hatred would involve the hatred of the arts。
  Nevertheless; in churchmen; luxury is wrong; except in connection with representations and ceremonies。
  It seems to reveal habits which have very little that is charitable about them。 An opulent priest is a contradiction。
  The priest must keep close to the poor。
  Now; can one e in contact incessantly night and day with all this distress; all these misfortunes; and this poverty; without having about one's own person a little of that misery; like the dust of labor?
  Is it possible to imagine a man near a brazier who is not warm?
  Can one imagine a workman who is working near a furnace; and who has neither a singed hair; nor blackened nails; nor a drop of sweat; nor a speck of ashes on his face?
  The first proof of charity in the priest; in the bishop especially; is poverty。
  This is; no doubt; what the Bishop of D thought。
  It must not be supposed; however; that he shared what we call the 〃ideas of the century〃 on certain delicate points。
  He took very little part in the theological quarrels of the moment; and maintained silence on questions in which Church and State were implicated; but if he had been strongly pressed; it seems that he would have been found to be an ultramontane rather than a gallican。
  

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