The bench was placed at the best possible point for one who, between dawn and darkness, made it the business of her life to keep her eye on her world. Not the tiniest mouse nor the most spectral2 shade could enter or slip away beneath the open archway without undergoing inspection3 from that omniscient4 eye, that seemed never to blink nor to grow weary. This same eye could keep its watch, also, over the entire establishment, with no need of the huge body to which it was attached moving a hair's-breadth. Was it Nitouche, the head-cook, who was grumbling5 because the kitchen-wench had not scoured6 the brass7 saucepans to the last point of mirrory brightness? Behold8 both Nitouche and the trembling peasant-girl, together with the brasses9 as evidence, all could be brought at an instant's call, into the open court. Were the maids—were Marianne or Lizette neglecting their work to flirt10 with the coachmen in the sheds yonder?
"Allons, mes filles—doucement, là-bas—et vos lits? qui les fait—les bons saints du paradis, peut-être?" And Marianne and Lizette would slink away to the waiting beds. Nothing escaped this eye. If the poule sultane was gone lame11, limping in the inner quadrangle, madame's eye saw the trouble—a thorn in the left claw, before the feathered cripple had had time to reach her objective point, her mistress's capacious lap, and the healing touch of her skilful12 surgeon's fingers. Neither were the cockatoes nor the white parrots given license13 to make all the noise in the court-yard. When madame had an unusually loquacious14 moment, these more strictly15 professional conversationists were taught their place.
"E'ben, toi—and thou wishest to proclaim to the world what a gymnast thou art—swinging on thy perch16? Quietly, quietly, there are also others who wish to praise themselves! And now, my child, you were telling me how good you had been to your old grandmother, and how she scolded you. Well, and how about obedience17 to our parents, hein—how about that?" This, as the old face bent18 to the maiden19 beside her.
There was one, assuredly, who had not failed in his duty to his parents. Monsieur Paul's whole life, as we learned later, had been a willing sacrifice to the unconscious tyranny of his mother's affection. The son was gifted with those gifts which, in a Parisian atelier, would easily have made him successful, if not famous. He had the artistic20 endowment in an unusual degree; it was all one to him, whether he modelled in clay, or carved in wood, or stone, or built a house, or restored old bric-a-brac. He had inherited the old world roundness of artistic ability—his was the plastic renascent21 touch that might have developed into that of a Giotto or a Benvenuto.
It was such a sacrifice as this that he had lain at his mother's feet.
Think you for an instant the clever, witty22, canny23 woman in Madame Le Mois looked upon her son's renouncing24 the world of Paris, and holding to the glories of Dives and their famous inn in the light of a sacrifice? "Parbleu!" she would explode, when the subject was touched on, "it was a lucky thing for him that Paul had had an old mother to keep him from burning his fingers. Paris! What did the provinces want with Paris? Paris had need enough of them, the great, idle, shiftless, dissipated, cruel old city, that ground all their sons to powder, and then scattered25 their ashes abroad like so many cinders26. Oh, yes, Paris couldn't get along without the provinces, to plunder27 and rob, to seduce28 their sons away from living good, pure lives, and to suck these lives as a pig would a trough of fresh water! But the provinces, if they valued their souls, shunned29 Paris as they would the devil. And as for artists—when it came to the young of the provinces, who thought they could paint or model—
"Tenez, madame—this is what Paris does for our young. My neighbor yonder," and she pointed30, as only Frenchwomen point, sticking her thumb into the air to designate a point back of her bench, "my neighbor had a son like Paul. He too was always niggling at something. He niggled so well a rich cousin sent him up to Paris. Well, in ten years he comes back, famous, rich, too, with a wife and even a child. The establishment is complete. Well, they come here to breakfast one fine morning, with his mother, whom he put at a side table, with his nurse—he is ashamed of his mother, you see. Well, then his wife talks and I hear her. 'Mais, mon Charles, c'est toi qui est le plus fameux—il n'y a que toi! Tu es un dieu, tu sais—il n'y a pas deux comme toi!' The famous one deigns31 to smile then, and to eat of his breakfast. His digestion32 had gone wrong, it appears. The Figaro had placed his name second on a certain list, after a rival's! He alone must be great—there must not be another god of painting save him! He! He! that's fine, that's greatness—to lose one's appetite because another is praised, and to be ashamed of one's old mother!"
Madame Le Mois's face, for a moment, was terrible to look upon. Even in her kindliest moments hers was a severe countenance33, in spite of the true Norman curves in mouth and nostril—the laughter-loving curves. Presently, however, the fierceness of her severity melted; she had caught sight of her son. He was passing her, now, with the wine bottles for dinner piled up in his arms.
"You see," croaked34 the mother, in an exultant35 whisper, "I've saved him from all that—he's happy, for he still works. In the winter he can amuse himself, when he likes, with his carving36 and paintbrushes. Ah, tiens, du monde qui arrive!" And the old woman seated herself, with an air of great dignity, to receive the new-comers.
The world that came in under the low archway was of an altogether different character from any we had as yet seen. In a satin-lined victoria, amid the cushions, lay a young and lovely-eyed Anonyma. Seated beside her was a weak-featured man, with a huge flower decorating his coat lappel. This latter individual divided the seat with an army of small dogs who leaped forth37 as the carriage stopped.
Madame Le Mois remained immovable on her bench. Her face was as enigmatic as her voice, as it gave Suzette the order to show the lady to the salon38 bleu. The high Louis XV. slipper39, as it picked its way carefully after Suzette, never seemed more distinctly astray than when its fair wearer confided40 her safety to the insecure footing of the rough, uneven41 cobbles. In a brief half-hour the frou-frou of her silken skirts was once more sweeping42 the court-yard. She and her companion and the dogs chose the open air and a tent of sky for their banqueting-hall. Soon all were seated at one of the many tables placed near the kitchen, beneath the rose-vines.
Madame gave the pair a keen, dissecting43 glance. Her verdict was delivered more in the emphasis of her shrug44 and the humor of her broad wink45 than in the loud-whispered "Comme vous voyez, chère dame1, de toutes sortes ici, chez nous—mais—toujours bon genre46!"
The laughter of one who could not choose her world was stopped, suddenly, by the dipping of the thick fingers into an old snuff-box. That very afternoon the court-yard saw another arrival; this one was treated in quite a different spirit.
A dog-cart was briskly driven into the yard by a gentleman who did not appear to be in the best of humor. He drew his horse up with a sudden fierceness; he as fiercely called out for the hostler. Monsieur Paul bit his lip; but he composedly confronted the disturbed countenance perched on the driver's seat. The gentleman wished.
"I want indemnity47—that is what I want. Indemnity for my horse," cried out a thick, coarse voice, with insolent48 authority.
"For your horse? I do not think I understand—"
"O—h, I presume not," retorted the man, still more insolently49; "people don't usually understand when they have to pay. I came here a week ago, and stayed two days; and you starved my horse—and he died—that is what happened—he died!"
The whole court-yard now rang with the cries of the assembled household. The high, angry tones had called together the last serving-man and scullery-maid; the cooks had come out from their kitchens; they were brandishing50 their long-handled saucepans. The peasant-women were shrieking51 in concert with the hostlers, who were raising their arms to heaven in proof of their innocence52. Dogs, cats, cockatoes swinging on their perches53, peacocks, parrots, pelicans54, and every one of the cocks swarmed55 from the barnyards and garden and cellars, to add their shrill56 cries and shrieks57 to the universal babel.
Meanwhile, calm and unruffled as a Hindoo goddess, and strikingly similar in general massiveness of structure and proportion to the common reproduction of such deities58, sat Madame Le Mois. She went on with her usual occupation; she was dipping fresh-cut salad leaves into great bowls of water as quietly as if only her own little family were assembled before her. Once only she lifted her heavily-moulded, sagacious eyebrow59 at the irate60 dog-cart driver, as if to measure his pitiful strength. She allowed the fellow, however, to touch the point of abuse before she crushed him.
Her first sentence reduced him to the ignominy of silence. All her people were also silent. What, the deep sarcastic61 voice chanted on the still air—what, this gentleman's horse had died—and yet he had waited a whole week to tell them of the great news? He was, of a truth, altogether too considerate. His own memory, perhaps, was also a short one, since it told him nothing of the condition in which the poor beast had arrived, dropping with fatigue62, wet with sweat, his mouth all blood, and an eye as of one who already was past the consciousness of his suffering? Ah no, monsieur should go to those who also had short memories.
"For we use our eyes—we do. We are used to deal with gentlemen—with Christians63" (the Hebrew nose of the owner of the dead horse, even more plainly abused the privilege of its pedigree in proving its race, by turning downward, at this onslaught of the mère's satire), "as I said, with Christians," continued the mere64, pitilessly. "And do those gentlemen complain and put upon us the death of their horses? No, my fine sir, they return—ils reviennent, et sont revenus depuis la Conquête!"
With this fine climax65 madame announced the court as closed. She bowed disdainfully, with a grand and magisterial66 air, to the defeated claimant, who crept away, sulkily, through the low archway.
"That is the way to deal with such vermin, Paul; whip them, and they turn tail." And the mere shook out a great laugh from her broad bosom67, as she regaled her wide nostrils68 with a fresh pinch of snuff. The assembled household echoed the laugh, seasoning69 it with the glee of scorn, as each went to his allotted70 place.
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1
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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omniscient
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| adj.无所不知的；博识的 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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scoured
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| 走遍（某地）搜寻（人或物）( scour的过去式和过去分词 )； （用力）刷； 擦净； 擦亮 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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brasses
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| n.黄铜( brass的名词复数 )；铜管乐器；钱；黄铜饰品（尤指马挽具上的黄铜圆片） | |
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flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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loquacious
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| adj.多嘴的，饶舌的 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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renascent
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| adj.新生的 | |
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witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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canny
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| adj.谨慎的，节俭的 | |
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24
renouncing
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的现在分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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25
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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seduce
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| vt.勾引，诱奸，诱惑，引诱 | |
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shunned
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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deigns
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的第三人称单数 ) | |
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digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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slipper
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| n.拖鞋 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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41
uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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43
dissecting
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| v.解剖（动物等）( dissect的现在分词 )；仔细分析或研究 | |
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44
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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45
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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genre
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| n.(文学、艺术等的)类型，体裁，风格 | |
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indemnity
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| n.赔偿，赔款，补偿金 | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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insolently
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| adv.自豪地，自傲地 | |
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50
brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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51
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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52
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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53
perches
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| 栖息处( perch的名词复数 )； 栖枝； 高处； 鲈鱼 | |
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pelicans
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| n.鹈鹕( pelican的名词复数 ) | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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deities
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| n.神，女神( deity的名词复数 )；神祗；神灵；神明 | |
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eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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irate
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| adj.发怒的，生气 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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magisterial
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| adj.威风的，有权威的；adv.威严地 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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seasoning
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| n.调味；调味料；增添趣味之物 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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