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第35章

the crime of sylvestre bonnard(西维斯特·博拉德的罪行)-第35章


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Therese   very   plainly;      standing    at  the  foot   of  my   bed;   I  can   hear   her 

speaking to   me   perfectly  well;   and   I   should   be   able   to   answer her   quite 

satisfactorily  if   I   were   not   kept   so   busy   in   trying   to   compel   the   various 

objects about me to maintain their natural aspect。 

     Here   is   the   doctor   coming。   I   never    sent   for   him;  but   it   gives  me 

pleasure to see him。 He is an old neighbor of mine; I have never been of 

much service to him; but I like him very much。 Even if I do not say much 

to him; I have at least full possession of all my faculties; and I even find 

myself     extraordinarily      crafty   and   observant     to…day;   for  I  note   all  his 

gestures; his every look; the least wrinkling of his face。 But the doctor is 

very cunning; too; and I cannot really tell what he thinks about me。 The 

deep thought of Goethe suddenly comes to my mind and I exclaim; 

     〃Doctor; the old man has consented to allow himself to become sick; 

but he does not intend; this time at least; to make any further concessions 

to nature。〃 

     Neither the doctor nor Therese laughs at my little joke。 I suppose they 

cannot have understood it。 

     The     doctor    goes   away;     evening    comes;     and   all   sorts  of   strange 

shadows begin   to   shape   themselves   about   my  bed…curtains;   forming   and 

dissolving by turns。 And other shadowsghoststhrong by before me; and 

through   them   I   can   see   distinctively   the   impassive   face   of   my   faithful 

servant。 And suddenly a cry; a shrill cry; a great cry of distress; rends my 

ears。 Was it you who called me Jeanne? 

     The day is over; and the shadows take their places at my bedside to 

remain with me all through the long night。 

     Then   morning   comesI   feel   a   peace;   a   vast   peace;   wrapping   me   all 

about。 

     Art Thou about to take me into Thy rest; my dear Lord God? 

       February 186…。 

       The doctor is quite jovial。 It seems that I am doing him a great deal of 

credit by being able to get out of bed。 If I must believe him; innumerable 

disorders must have pounced down upon my poor old body all at the same 

time。 



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     These disorders; which are the terror of ordinary mankind; have names 

which   are   the   terror   of   philologists。 They  are   hybrid   names;   half   Greek; 

half    Latin;    with    terminations       in   〃itis;〃  indicating      the   inflammatory 

condition;   and   in   〃algia;〃   indicating   pain。   The   doctor   gives   me   all   their 

names; together with a corresponding number of adjectives ending in 〃ic;〃 

which      serve    to  characterise      their   detestable     qualities。    In   short;   they 

represent      a  good    half   of  that   most    perfect   copy   of   the   Dictionary   of 

Medicine contained in the too… authentic box of Pandora。 

     〃Doctor; what an excellent common…sense story the story of Pandora 

is!if I were a poet I would put it into French verse。 Shake hands; doctor! 

You have brought me back to life; I forgive you for it。 You have given me 

back to my friends; I thank you for it。 You say I am quite strong。 That may 

be; that may be; but I have lasted a very long time。 I am a very old article 

of furniture; I might be very satisfactorily compared to my father's arm… 

chair。 It was an arm… chair which the good man had inherited; and in which 

he used to lounge from morning until evening。 Twenty times a day; when I 

was quite a baby; I used to climb up and seat myself on one of the arms of 

that old…fashioned chair。 So long as the chair remained intact; nobody paid 

any  particular   attention   to   it。   But   it   began   to   limp   on   one   foot   and   then 

folks   began   to   say   that   it   was   a   very   good   chair。 Afterwards   it   became 

lame   in   three   legs;  squeaked   with   the  fourth   leg;   and lost   nearly  half   of 

both   arms。   Then   everybody   would   exclaim;   'What   a   strong   chair!'   They 

wondered how it was that after its arms had been worn off and all its legs 

knocked out of perpendicular; it could yet preserve the recognisable shape 

of a chair; remains nearly erect; and still be of some service。 The horse… 

hair   came   out   of   its   body   at   last;   and   it   gave   up   the   ghost。   And   when 

Cyprien;      our   servant;    sawed     up   its  mutilated     members      for   fire…wood; 

everybody   redoubled   their   cries   of   admiration。   Oh!   what   an   excellent 

what a marvellous chair! It was the chair of Pierre Sylvestre Bonnard; the 

cloth merchantof Epimenide Bonnard; his sonof Jean…Baptiste Bonnard; 

the Pyrrhonian philosopher and Chief of the Third Maritime Division。 Oh! 

what   a   robust   and   venerable   chair!'   In   reality   it   was   a   dead   chair。  Well; 

doctor; I am that chair。 You think I am solid because I have been able to 

resist   an   attack   which   would   have   killed   many   people;   and   which   only 



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three…   fourths   killed   me。   Much   obliged!   I   feel   none   the   less   that   I   am 

something which has been irremediably damaged。〃 

     The doctor tries to prove to me; with the help of enormous Greek and 

Latin words; that I am really in a very good condition。 It would; of course; 

be useless to attempt any demonstration of this kind in so lucid a language 

as French。 However; I allow him to persuade me at last; and I see him to 

the door。 

     〃Good! good!〃 exclaimed Therese; 〃that is the way to put the doctor 

out of the house! Just do the same thing once or twice again; and he will 

not come to see you any moreand so much the better?〃 

     〃Well; Therese; now that I have become such a hearty man again; do 

not refuse to give me my letters。 I am sure there must be quite a big bundle 

of letters; and it would be very wicked to keep me any longer from reading 

them。〃 

     Therese; after some little grumbling; gave me my letters。 But what did 

it matter?I looked at all the envelopes; and saw that no one of them had 

been addressed by the little hand which I so much wish I could see here 

now; turning over the pages of the Vecellio。 I pushed the whole bundle of 

letters away: they had no more interest for me。 

       April…June 

       It was a hotly contested engagement。 

     〃Wait;   Monsieur;   until   I   have   put   on   my   clean   things;〃   exclaimed 

Therese;   〃and   I   will   go   out   with   you   this   time   also;   I   will   carry   your 

folding…stool as I have been doing these last few days; and we will go and 

sit down somewhere in the sun。〃 

     Therese actually thinks me infirm。 I have been sick; it is true; but there 

is   an   end   to   all   things!   Madame   Malady   has   taken   her   departure   quite 

awhile   ago;   and   it   is   now   more   than   three   months   since   her   pale   and 

gracious…visaged        handmaid;      Dame     Convalescence;        politely   bade    me 

farewell。 If I were to listen to my housekeeper; I should become a veritable 

Monsieur Argant; and I should wear a nightcap with ribbons for the rest of 

my life。。。。 No more of this! I propose to go out by myself! Therese will 

not hear of it。 She takes my folding…stool; and wants to follow me。 

     〃Therese; to…morrow; if you like; we will take our seats on the sunny 



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side of the wall of La Petite Provence and stay there just as long as you 

please。 But to…day I have some very important affairs to attend to。〃 

     〃So much   the better! But   your   affairs are not   the only  affairs in   this 

world。〃 

     I beg; I scold; I make my escape。 

     It is quite a pleasant day。 With the aid of a cab and the help of almighty 

God; I trust to be able to fulfil my purpose。 

     There is   the wall on which   is painted in great blue letters   the  words 

〃Pensionnat       de  Demoiselles      tenu   par  Mademoiselle       Virginie    Prefere。〃 

There is the iron gate which would give free entrance into the court…yard if 

it were ever opened。 But the lock is rusty; and sheets of zinc put up behind 

the bars protect the indiscreet observation those dear little souls to whom 

Mademoiselle   Prefere   doubtless   teaches   modesty;   sincerity;   justice;   and 

disinterestedness。 There is a window; with iron bars before it; and panes 

daubed over with white paintthe window of the domestic offices; like a 

glazed   eyethe   only   aperture   of   the   building   opening   upon   the   exterior 

world。 As for the house…door; through which I entered so often; but which 

is now closed against me for ever; it is just as I saw it the last time; with its 

little iron…grated wicket。 The single stone step in front of it is deeply worn; 

and; without having very good eyes behind my spectacles; I can see the 

little white scratches on the stone which have been made by the nails in 

the shoes of the girls going in and out。 And why cannot I also go in? I have 

a feeling that Jeanne must be suffering a great deal in this dismal house; 

and that she calls my name in secret。 I cannot go away from the gate! A 

strange     anxiety   takes   hold   of  me。   I  pull  the  bell。  The    scared…looking 

servant comes to the door; even more scared… looking than when I saw her 

the last time。 Strict orders have been given; I am not to be allowed to see 

Mademoiselle Jeanne。 I beg the servant to be so kind as to tell me how the 

child is。 The servant; after looking to her right and then to her left; tells me 

that Mademoiselle Jeanne is well; and then shuts the door in my face。 And 

I am all alone in the street again。 

     How many times since then have I wandered in the same way under 

that wall; and passed before the little door;full of shame and despair to 

find myself   even   weaker  than   that   poor  child;  who   has no other  help of 



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friend except myself in the world! 

     Finally   I   overcame   my   repugnance   sufficiently   to   call   upon   Maitre 

Mouche。 The first thing I remarked was that his office is much more dusty 

and much more mouldy this year that it was last year。 The notary made his 

appearance after a moment; with his familiar stiff gestures; and his restless 

eyes quivering behind his eye…glasses。 I made my complaints to hi

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