The theatres played his plays and the crowd applauded his name, but at the same moment the enemies of poets and poetry were increasing in number and growing in audacious hatred4.
He only became more and more sorrowful, his soul shrinking within his enfeebled body.
When he learned of the departure of Tristouse he did not protest, but simply asked the concierge5 if she knew the destination of the voyage.
"All that I know," said the woman, "is that she has gone to Central Europe."
"Very well," said Croniamantal, and returning to his quarters he gathered up the several thousand francs he still possessed6 and took the train for Germany at the Gare du Nord.
On the following day, Christmas eve, the train was engulfed7 in the enormous terminal of Cologne. Croniamantal, carrying a little valise, descended8 last from his third-class coach.
On the platform of the opposite track the red cap of the station master, the spiked9 helmets of policemen, and the silk hats of high functionaries10 indicated that an important person was awaited by the next train. And to be sure Croniamantal heard a little old man, with quick gestures, explaining to his fat wife who gaped11 with astonishment12 at the spiked helmets, the red cap, and the silk hats:
"Krupp... Essen... No orders... Italy."
Croniamantal followed the crowd of passengers who had come in on his train. He walked behind two girls, who must have been pigeon-toed, so much did their gait resemble that of the goose. They kept their hands concealed13 under short cloaks; the head of the first one was covered with a small black hat, from which there dangled14 a bouquet15 of blue roses, as well as some straight, black feathers, with the stem trimmed except at the tip, which trembled as if with cold. The hat of the other girl was of a soft, almost brilliant felt, an enormous knot of satinette shrouding16 her with ridicule17. They were probably two servant maids out of a job, for they were pounced18 upon at the exit by a group of strait-laced and ugly ladies wearing the ribbon of the Catholic Society for the Protection of Young Girls. The ladies of the Protestant Society for the same purpose stood a little further off. Croniamantal following behind a stout19 man with a short, hard and russet beard, dressed in green, descended the stairway that led to the vestibule of the station.
Outside he saluted20 the Dome21, solitary22 in the midst of the irregular square which it filled with its bulk. The station heaped its modern mass close to the huge cathedral. Hotels spread their signs in hybrid23 languages and appeared to hold their respectful distance from the gothic colossus. Croniamantal sniffed24 the odour of the town for a long time. He seemed to be disappointed.
"She is not here," he said to himself, "my nose would smell her, my nerves would vibrate, my eyes would see her."
He crossed the town, passed the fortifications on foot as if driven by un unknown force along the main road, downstream, on the right bank of the Rhine. And in truth, Tristouse and Paponat had arrived the night before in Cologne, taken an automobile25 and continued their journey; they had taken the right bank of the Rhine in the direction of Coblenz, and Croniamantal was following their trail.
Christmas eve came. An old prophet of a rabbi from Dollendorf, just as he was venturing upon the bridge which links Bonn with Buel, was repulsed26 by a violent gust27 of wind. The snow fell in a great rage. The sound of the gale28 drowned all the Christmas songs, but the thousand lights of the trees glittered in each house.
The old Jew swore:
"Kreuzdonnerwetter... I shall never get to Haenchen... Winter, my old friend, thou canst avail nothing against my old and joyous29 carcass, let me cross without hindrance30 this old Rhine which is as drunken as thirty-six drunkards. As to myself, I bend my steps toward the noble tavern31 frequented by the Borussians only to tipple32 in company with those white bonnets33 and at their cost, like a good Christian34, although I am a Jew."
The sound of the gale doubled in fury, strange voices made themselves heard. The old rabbi shivered and raised his head crying:
"Donnerkeil! Ui jeh, ch, ch, ch. Eh! Say, up there, you ought to go about your business instead of making life miserable35 for poor happy devils whose fate sends them abroad on such nights... Eh! mothers, are you no longer under the domination of Solomon? ...Ohey! Ohey! Tseilom Kop! Meicabl! Farwaschen Ponim! Beheime! You want to prevent me from drinking the excellent Moselle wines with the students of Borussia who are only too happy to toast with me because of my science and my inimitable lyricism, not to mention all my talents for sorcery and prophecy.
"Accursed spirits! know ye that I might have drunk also Rhine wines, not to mention the wines of France. Nor should I have neglected to polish off some champagne36 in your honor, my old friends!... At midnight, the hour when the Christkindchen is made, I should have rolled under the table and have slept at least during the brawling37... But you unchain the winds, you make an infernal uproar38 during this saintly night which should have been peaceful... as to being calm, you seem to be twisting his pigtail up there, sweet ladies... To amuse Solomon, no doubt... Lilith! Naama! Aguereth! Mahala! Ah! Solomon, for thy pleasure they are going to kill all the poets on this earth.
"Ah Solomon! Solomon! jovial39 king whose entertainers are the four nocturnal spectres moving from the Orient to the North, thou desirest my death, for I am also a poet like all the Jewish prophets and a prophet like all the poets.
"Farewell drunkenness for tonight... Old Rhine, I must turn my back to thee. I am going back to prepare me for death and dictate40 my last and most lyrical prophecies..."
A horrible crash, like a stroke of thunder, burst just then. The old prophet pressed his lips together, lowering his head and looking down; then he bent41 down and held his ear quite close to the ground. When he straightened up he murmured:
"The earth herself can no longer suffer the unbearable42 contact with poets."
Then he took his way across the streets of Buel, turning his back on the Rhine. When the rabbi had traversed the railroad track he found himself before a crossing and as he hesitated not knowing which to take, he lifted his head again by chance. He saw before him a young man with a valise coming from Bonn; the old rabbi did not recognize the person and cried to him:
"Are you mad to go out in such weather, sir?"
"I am hurrying to rejoin someone whom I have lost and whose track I am following," replied the stranger.
"What is your profession," cried the Jew.
"I am a poet."
The prophet stamped with his foot and as the young man disappeared he cursed him horribly because of the pity he felt, then lowering his head he went to look at the signposts along the road. Wheezing43, he took the road straight ahead of him.
"Happily the wind is fallen... at least one can walk... I had thought at first that he was coming to kill me. But, no, he will probably die even before me, this poet who is not even a Jew. Well, let us go quick and merrily to prepare us a glorious death."
The old rabbi walked faster; with his long cloak he gave the effect of a returned spirit, and some children who were returning from Putzchen after the Christmas Tree party passed him crying with terror, and for a long time they threw stones in the direction in which he had disappeared.
* * *
Croniamantal covered in this way part of Germany and the Austrian Empire; the force that propelled him drew him across Thuringia, Saxony, Bohemia, Moravia, up to Brünn, where he decided44 to stop.
On the very night of his arrival, he scoured45 the town. Along the streets surrounding the old palace enormous Swiss guards in breeches and cocked hats, were standing46 before the doors. They leaned on long canes47 with crystal heads. Their gold buttons gleamed like the eyes of cats. Croniamantal lost his way; he wandered about for some time in poor streets where shadows passed vividly49 across drawn50 blinds. Officers in long blue coats passed by. Croniamantal turned to glance at them, then he walked outside of the town with night coming on, to look at the sombre mass of the Spielberg. While he was looking at the old state prison, he heard the sound of feet dose by and then saw three monks51 pass gesticulating and talking loudly. Croniamantal ran after them and asked them directions.
"You are French," they said; "come with us."
Croniamantal examined them and noticed that they wore above their frocks little beige cloaks that were very elegant. Each one carried a light cane48 and wore a melon-shaped hat. On the way one of the monks said to Croniamantal:
"You have wandered far from your hotel, we will show you the way if you wish. But if you care to, you may certainly come to the convent with us: you will be well received because you are a foreigner and you can pass the night there."
"I shall be very glad to come, for aren't you brothers to me, who am a poet."
They began to laugh. The oldest, who wore a gold-framed lorgnon and whose belly55 puffed56 out of his fashionable waistcoat, raised his arms and cried:
"A poet! Is it possible!"
And the two others, who were thinner, choked with laughter, bending down and holding their bellies57 as if they had the colic.
"Let us be serious," said the monk52 with the lorgnon, "we are going to pass through a street inhabited by the Jews."
In the streets, at every step, old women standing like pines in a forest, called them, making signals.
"Let us flee from this stench," said the fat monk, who was a Czech and who was called Father Karel by his companions.
Croniamantal and the monks stopped at last before a great convent door. At the sound of the bell the porter came to let them in. The two thin monks said good-bye to Croniamantal, who remained alone with Father Karel in a parlor58 that was richly furnished.
"My child," said Father Karel, "you are in a unique convent. The monks who inhabit it are all very proper people. We have old archdukes, and even former architects, soldiers, scientists, poets, inventors, a few monks expelled from France, and some lay guests of good breeding. All of them are saints. I, myself, such as you see me, with my lorgnon and my pot-belly, am a saint. I shall show you your room, where you may stay until nine o'clock; then you will hear the bell ring and I shall come to look for you."
Father Karel guided Croniamantal through long corridors. Then they went up a stairway of white marble and on the second floor, Father Karel opened a door and said:
"Your room."
He showed him the electric button and left.
The room was round, the bed and the chairs were round; on the chimney piece a skull59 looked like an old cheese.
Croniamantal stood by the window, under which spread the teeming60 darkness of a large monastery61 garden, from which there seemed to rise laughter, sighs, cries of joy, as if a thousand couples were embracing each other. Then a woman's voice in the garden sang a song which Croniamantal had heard before:
...Croquemitaine
Wears the rose and the lilac
The King is a-coming
—Hello Germaine
—Croquemitaine
And Croniamantal began to sing the rest:
—Hello Germaine
I come to love among thine arms.
Then he heard the voice of Tristouse continuing the couplet.
And voices of men here and there, sang airs that were strange or grave, while the cracked voice of an old man stuttered:
Vexilla regis prodeunt...
At this moment Father Karel entered the room, as a bell rang full force.
"Well, my boy! Listening to the sounds of our fine garden? It is full of memories, this earthly paradise. Tychobrahé made love there with a pretty Jewess who said to him all the time: Chazer,—which means pig in the jargon63.[13] I myself, have seen such and such an archduke play with a pretty boy whose behind was shaped like a heart. Let us come to dinner."
They arrived in a vast refectory still empty, and the poet examined at his leisure the frescoes64 which covered the wall.
One was of Noah, dead-drunk on a couch. His son Cham was uncovering his nakedness, that is to say the root of a vine naively66 and prettily67 painted whose branches served as a genealogical tree, or something of the sort, for they had painted the names of all the abbés in red letters on all the leaves.
The marriage of Cana showed a Mannekenpis pissing wine into the casks while the spouse68, at least eight months with child, offered her belly to someone who was writing on it in charcoal69: TOKAI.
And then again there was a fresco65 of the soldiers of Gideon relieving themselves of the awful colic caused by the water they had drunk.
The long table that covered the middle of the hall was spread with a rare sumptuousness70. The glasses and decanters were of Bohemian cut-glass, and of the finest red crystal. The superb silver pieces glittered on the whiteness of the cloth strewn with violets.
The monks arrived one by one, their hoods71 on their heads, arms folded on their breasts. On entering they greeted Croniamantal and took their accustomed places. As they came in, Father Karel informed Croniamantal of their name and what country they came from. The table was soon filled and Croniamantal counted fifty-six of them. The Abbé, an Italian with narrow eyes, said grace and the repast began, but Croniamantal anxiously awaited the arrival of Tristouse.
A bouillon was served in which there swam little brains of birds and sweet peas...
* * *
"Our two French guests have just left," said a French monk who had been the prior of Crepentois. "I could not hold them here: the companion of my nephew was just singing in the garden in his pretty soprano voice. He almost fainted at hearing some one in the convent sing the close of the song. They left just now and took the train, for their automobile was not ready. We shall send it on to them by rail. They did not impart to me the destination of their journey, but I think that the pious72 children are bound for Marseilles. At least, I think I heard them talk of that town."
Croniamantal, pale as a sheet, rose, then:
"Excuse me, good fathers," he said, "but it was wrong of me to accept your hospitality. I must go away, do not ask me the reason. But I shall keep a fond memory of the simplicity73, the gaiety, the liberty that reign53 here. All that is dear to me to the highest degree, why, why, alas74, can I not profit of it?"
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收听单词发音
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1
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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3
Vogue
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| n.时髦，时尚；adj.流行的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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6
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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7
engulfed
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| v.吞没，包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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9
spiked
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| adj.有穗的；成锥形的；有尖顶的 | |
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10
functionaries
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| n.公职人员，官员( functionary的名词复数 ) | |
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11
gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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12
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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13
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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14
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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15
bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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16
shrouding
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| n.覆盖v.隐瞒( shroud的现在分词 )；保密 | |
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17
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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18
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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20
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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23
hybrid
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| n.(动，植）杂种，混合物 | |
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24
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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25
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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26
repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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27
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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28
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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29
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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hindrance
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| n.妨碍，障碍 | |
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31
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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32
tipple
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| n.常喝的酒；v.不断喝，饮烈酒 | |
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33
bonnets
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| n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 )；（烟囱等的）覆盖物；（苏格兰男子的）无边呢帽；（女子戴的）任何一种帽子 | |
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34
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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35
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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36
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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37
brawling
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| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
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38
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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39
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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40
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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41
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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42
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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43
wheezing
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的现在分词 )；哮鸣 | |
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44
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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45
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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46
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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47
canes
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| n.（某些植物，如竹或甘蔗的）茎( cane的名词复数 )；（用于制作家具等的）竹竿；竹杖 | |
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48
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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49
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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50
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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51
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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52
monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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53
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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54
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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55
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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56
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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57
bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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58
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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59
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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60
teeming
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| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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61
monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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62
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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63
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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64
frescoes
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| n.壁画( fresco的名词复数 )；温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
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65
fresco
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| n.壁画；vt.作壁画于 | |
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66
naively
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| adv. 天真地 | |
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67
prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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68
spouse
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| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
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69
charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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70
sumptuousness
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| 奢侈，豪华 | |
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71
hoods
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| n.兜帽( hood的名词复数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩v.兜帽( hood的第三人称单数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
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72
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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73
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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74
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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