the ways of men(人们的手段)-第12章
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lying five or six hours a day motionless in the sunlight。 It wasn't long
before I felt life creeping back to my poor feeble body。 The hot sun of our
magic south was a more subtle tonic than any drug。 When the cure was
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complete； I made up my mind that each summer the same chance should
be offered to as many of my suffering sisters as this old place could be
made to accommodate。〃
The bells on the shaggy Tarbes ponies she was driving along the
Languedoc road drew； on nearing her residence； a number of peasant
children from their play。
As the ruddy urchins ran shouting around our carriage wheels and
scrambled in the dust for the sous we threw them； my hostess pointed
laughing to a scrubby little girl with tomato… colored cheeks and tousled
dark hair； remarking； 〃I looked like that twenty years ago and performed
just those antics on this very road。 No punishment would keep me off the
highway。 Those pennies； if I'm not mistaken； will all be spent at the village
pastry cook's within an hour。〃
This was said with such a tender glance at the children that one
realized the great artist was at home here； surrounded by the people she
loved and understood。 True to the 〃homing〃 instinct of the French peasant；
Madame Calve； when fortune came to her； bought and partially restored
the rambling chateau which at sunset casts its shadow across the village of
her birth。 Since that day every moment of freedom from professional labor
and every penny of her large income are spent at Cabrieres； building；
planning； even farming； when her health permits。
〃I think；〃 she continued； as we approached the chateau； 〃that the
happiest day of my life … and I have； as you know； passed some hours
worth living； both on and off the stage … was when； that wing completed； a
Paris train brought the first occupants for my twenty little bedrooms； no
words can tell the delight it gives me now to see the color coming back to
my patients' pale lips and hear them laughing and singing about the place。
As I am always short of funds； the idea of abandoning this work is the
only fear the future holds for me。〃
With the vivacity peculiar to her character； my companion then
whipped up her cobs and turned the conversation into gayer channels。 Five
minutes later we clattered over a drawbridge and drew up in a roomy
courtyard； half blinding sunlight and half blue shadow； where a score of
girls were occupied with books and sewing。
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The luncheon bell was ringing as we ascended the terrace steps。 After
a hurried five minutes for brushing and washing； we took our places at a
long table set in the cool stone hall； guests stopping in the chateau
occupying one end around the chatelaine； the convalescents filling the
other seats。
Those who have only seen the capricious diva on the stage or in
Parisian salons can form little idea of the proprietress of Cabrieres。 No
shade of coquetry blurs the clear picture of her home life。 The capped and
saboted peasant women who waited on us were not more simple in their
ways。 Several times during the meal she left her seat to inquire after the
comfort of some invalid girl or inspect the cooking in the adjacent kitchen。
These wanderings were not； however； allowed to disturb the conversation；
which flowed on after the mellow French fashion； enlivened by much wit
and gay badinage。 One of our hostess's anecdotes at her own expense was
especially amusing。
〃When in Venice；〃 she told us； 〃most prima donnas are carried to and
from the opera in sedan chairs to avoid the risk of colds from the draughty
gondolas。 The last night of my initial season there； I was informed； as the
curtain fell； that a number of Venetian nobles were planning to carry me in
triumph to the hotel。 When I descended from my dressing…room the
courtyard of the theatre was filled with men in dress clothes； bearing
lanterns； who caught up the chair as soon as I was seated and carried it
noisily across the city to the hotel。 Much moved by this unusual honor； I
mounted to the balcony of my room； from which elevation I bowed my
thanks； and threw all the flowers at hand to my escort。
〃Next morning the hotel proprietor appeared with my coffee； and after
hesitating a moment； remarked： ‘Well； we made a success of it last night。
It has been telegraphed to all the capitals of Europe！ I hope you will not
think a thousand francs too much； considering the advertisement！' In blank
amazement； I asked what he meant。 ‘I mean the triumphal progress；' he
answered。 ‘I thought you understood！ We always organize one for the
〃stars〃 who visit Venice。 The men who carried your chair last night were
the waiters from the hotels。 We hire them on account of their dress clothes'！
Think of the disillusion；〃 added Calve； laughing； 〃and my disgust； when I
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thought of myself naively throwing kisses and flowers to a group of Swiss
garcons at fifteen francs a head。 There was nothing to do； however； but
pay the bill and swallow my chagrin！〃
How many pretty women do you suppose would tell such a joke upon
themselves？ Another story she told us is characteristic of her peasant
neighbors。
〃When I came back here after my first season in St。 Petersburg and
London the CURE requested me to sing at our local fete。 I gladly
consented； and； standing by his side on the steps of the MAIRIE； gave the
great aria from the HUGUENOTS in my best manner。 To my astonishment
the performance was received in complete silence。 ‘Poor Calve；' I heard an
old friend of my mother's murmur。 ‘Her voice used to be so nice； and now
it's all gone！' Taking in the situation at a glance； I threw my voice well up
into my nose and started off on a well…known provincial song； in the shrill
falsetto of our peasant women。 The effect was instantaneous！ Long before
the end the performance was drowned in thunders of applause。 Which
proves that to be popular a singer must adapt herself to her audience。〃
Luncheon over； we repaired for cigarettes and coffee to an upper room；
where Calve was giving Dagnan…Bouveret some sittings for a portrait； and
lingered there until four o'clock； when our hostess left us for her siesta；
and a 〃break〃 took those who cared for the excursion across the valley to
inspect the ruins of a Roman bath。 A late dinner brought us together again
in a small dining room； the convalescents having eaten their simple meal
and disappeared an hour before。 During this time； another transformation
had taken place in our mercurial hostess！ It was the Calve of Paris； Calve
the witch； Calve the CAPITEUSE； who presided at the dainty； flower…
decked table and led the laughing conversation。
A few notes struck on a guitar by one of the party； as we sat an hour
later on the moonlit terrace； were enough to start off the versatile artist；
who was in her gayest humor。 She sang us stray bits of opera； alternating
her music with scenes burlesqued from recent plays。 No one escaped her
inimitable mimicry； not even the 〃divine Sarah；〃 Calve giving us an
unpayable impersonation of the elderly TRAGEDIENNE as Lorenzaccio；
the boy hero of Alfred de Musset's drama。 Burlesquing led to her dancing
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some Spanish steps with an abandon never attempted on the stage！ Which
in turn gave place to an imitation of an American whistling an air from
CARMEN； and some 〃coon songs〃 she had picked up during her stay at
New York。 They； again； were succeeded by a superb rendering of the
imprecation from Racine's CAMILLE； which made her audience realize
that in gaining a soprano the world has lost； perhaps； its greatest
TRAGEDIENNE。
At eleven o'clock the clatter of hoofs in the court warned us that the
pleasant evening had come to an end。 A journalist EN ROUTE for Paris
was soon installed with me in the little omnibus that was to take us to the
station； Calve herself lighting our cigars and providing the wraps that were
to keep out the cool night air。
As we passed under the low archway of the entrance amid a clamor of
〃adieu〃 and 〃au revoir；〃 the young Frenchman at my side pointed up to a
row of closed windows overhead。 〃Isn't it a lesson；〃 he said； 〃for all of us；
to think of the occupants of those little rooms； whom the generosity and
care of that gracious artist are leaning by such pleasant paths back to
health and courage for their toilsome lives？〃
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CHAPTER 11 … A Cry For Fresh
Air
〃ONCE upon a time；〃 reads the familiar nursery tale； while the fairies；
invited by a king and queen to the christening of their daughter； were
showering good gifts on the baby princess； a disgruntled old witch； whom
no one had thought of asking to the ceremony； appeared uninvited on the
scene and revenged herself by decreeing that the presents of the good
fairies； instead of proving beneficial； should bring only trouble and
embarrassment to the royal infant。
A telling analogy might be drawn between that unhappy princess over
whose fate so many youthful tears have been shed； and the condition of
our invention…ridden country； for we see every day how the good gifts of
those nineteenth century fairies； Science and Industry； instead of proving
blessings to mankind； are being turned by ignorance and stupidity into
veritable afflictions。
If
