If this contract
Answer to heaven for what I suffer! act!
To fall on me, and those whose evil
However rare and marvellously Sad,
Can parallel.
Knowles—The Hunchback.
At the moment that Paul went into the study, the marchioness appeared at the door of the drawing-room, followed by the notary5, and the several persons who had been invited to be present at the signing of the contract. Notwithstanding the nature of the meeting, the marchioness had not considered it proper to lay aside, even for one evening, her mourning garments, and dressed in complete black, as she had been always during twenty years, she came into the room a few moments before the marquis. None of the persons present, not even his son, had seen the marquis for many years. Such attention was in those days paid to ancient forms, that the marchioness would not allow the marriage contract of her daughter to be signed, without the head of the family, although deprived of reason, being present; at the ceremony. However little accustomed Lectoure was to feel intimidated7, the marchioness produced upon him the effect which she did on every one that approached her, and on seeing her enter the room with so grave and dignified8 an aspect, he bowed to her with a feeling of profound respect.
“I am grateful to you, gentlemen,” said the marchioness, bowing to the persons who accompanied her, “for the honor you have been pleased to confer upon me, by being present at the betrothal9 of Mademoiselle Marguerite d’Auray, with the Baron10 de Lectoure. I, in consequence, was desirous that the marquis, although suffering from illness, should also be present at this meeting, to thank you at least by his presence, if he cannot do so verbally. You are all aware of his unfortunate malady11, and you will, therefore, not be astonished, should some disjointed words—”
“Yes, madam,” said Lectoure, interrupting her, “we know the misfortune which has befallen him, and we admire the devoted12 wife, who for twenty years has borne half the weight of this sad visitation.”
“You see, madam,” said Emanuel, addressing in his turn, and kissing the hand of his mother, “all the world bows down in admiration13 of your conjugal14 piety15.”
“Where is Marguerite?” murmured the marchioness, in a hair whisper.
“She was here not a moment ago,” said Emanuel. “Let her know that we are all assembled,” rejoined the marchioness, in the same tone.
A servant then announced “the Marquis d’Auray.” All present drew to one side, so as to leave free passage from the door, and all eyes were directed to the spot at which this new personage was to appear. It was not long before their curiosity was satisfied; the marquis came in almost immediately, supported by two servants.
He was an old man, whose countenance16, notwithstanding that the traces of suffering had deeply furrowed17 it, still retained that noble and dignified appearance which had rendered him one of the most distinguished18 men of the court of Louis XV. His large, hollow, and feverish19 eyes, glanced around the assembly with a strange expression of astonishment20. He was dressed in his costume of Steward21 of the Household, wore the order of the Holy Ghost suspended from his neck, and that of St. Louis, at his button hole. He advanced slowly, and without uttering a word. The two servants led him forward amid the most profound silence, to an arm-chair, in which he seated himself, and the servants left the room. The marchioness then placed herself at his right hand. The notary opened the portfolio22, drew from it the marriage contract and read it aloud. The marquis and the marchioness made over the sum of five hundred thousand francs to Lectoure, and gave a like sum to Marguerite, as her dowry.
During the whole of the time occupied by the reading of the contract, the marchioness, notwithstanding her great self command, had betrayed some symptoms of uneasiness. But just at the moment when the notary had placed the contract open on the table, Emanuel returned and approached his mother.
“And Marguerite?” said the marchioness.
“She will be here instantly.”
“Madam,” murmured Marguerite, half opening the door, and clasping her hands.
“Baron, it is you who are first to sign.”
Lectoure immediately approached the table and signed the contract.
“Madam!” cried Marguerite, in a tone of supplication24, and advancing one step toward her mother.
The Baron walked round the table, and drew near to Marguerite.
“Madam!” again cried the latter, with an accent so melancholy26, that it struck to the heart of every person present, and even the marquis himself raised his head.
“Sign!” said the marchioness, pointing to the marriage contract.
“Oh! my father! my father!” exclaimed Marguerite throwing herself at the feet of the marquis.
“What does this mean?” said the marchioness, leaning upon the arm of the marquis’ chair, and bending over him, “are you mad, mademoiselle?”
“My father! oh! my father!” again cried Marguerite, throwing her arms around him, “my father, have pity, save your daughter!”
“Marguerite!” murmured the marchioness, in a threatening accent.
“Madam!” replied Marguerite, “I cannot address myself to you—permit me, then, to implore27 my father’s pity; unless,” she added, pointing to the notary with a firm and determined28 gesture, “you would prefer my invoking29 the protection of the law.”
“Come, come,” said the marchioness, rising, and in a tone of bitter irony30, “this is a family scene, and which, although highly interesting to near relations, must be sufficiently31 tedious to strangers. Gentlemen, you will find refreshments32 in the adjoining rooms. My son, conduct these gentlemen, and do the honors. Baron, I must beg your pardon for a short time.” Emanuel and Lectoure bowed in silence and withdrew, followed by all the company. The marchioness remained motionless until the last of them had withdrawn33, and then she closed all the doors leading into the room, when, returning to the marquis, whom Marguerite still held clasped in her arms.
“And now,” said she, “that there is no one present excepting those who have the right to lay their commands upon you, sign that paper, mademoiselle, or leave the room.”
“Have you not heard me?” said the marchioness, giving to her voice an imperative35 tone, which she thought impossible to be resisted, “or must I repeat my words? ‘Sign, or leave the room.’”
“Oh! my father!” cried Marguerite, “mercy! mercy! No, it shall not be said, that after having been banished36 from my father’s presence for ten years, I was torn from his arms the first time I again beheld37 him—and that, before he had recognized me, before he has embraced me. Oh! father! father!—it is I, it is your daughter!”
“What is that voice that is imploring38 me?” murmured the marquis. “Who is this child who calls me father?”
“That voice,” said the marchioness, seizing the arm of her daughter, “is a voice that is raised against the rights of nature. That child is a rebellious39 daughter.”
“My father!” cried Marguerite imploringly40, “look at me. Oh! my father, save me I defend me! I am Marguerite.”
“It is I! it is I!” rejoined Marguerite: “I am your child—I am your daughter.”
“There are no children but those who obey. Obey! and you will then have the right to call yourself our daughter,” rejoined the marchioness.
“To you, my father, yes,—to you I am ready to obey. But you do not command this sacrifice! you do not wish that I should be unhappy—unhappy even to despair—unhappy even to death.”
“Come! come!” said the marquis holding her in his turn, and pressing her to his heart. “Oh! this is a delicious and unknown feeling to me. And now—wait! wait!” He pressed his hand to his forehead. “It seems to me that I recollect43.”
“Sir!” cried the marchioness, “tell her that she ought to obey; that the malediction44 of God awaits rebellious children. Tell her that, rather than to encourage her in her impiety45!”
The marquis slowly raised his head, and fixed46 his piercing eyes upon his wife, and then slowly pronounced the following words: “Take care! madam, take care. Have I not told you that I begin to remember!” and then again bending down his head to that of Marguerite, so that his grey hairs mingled47 with the dark tresses, of his daughter—“Speak—speak!” said he, “what is it that disturbs you, my child—tell me all.”
“Oh! I am most unhappy!”
“Everybody, then, is unhappy here,” exclaimed the marquis, “whether their hair be grey or black—an old man or a child.. Oh! and I also—I am unhappy—be assured.
“Sir, go up stairs into your room again: you must,” said the marchioness.
“Yes, that I may again be face to face with you; shut up like a prisoner! That may be very well, when I am mad.”
“Yes, yes, my father, you are right. My mother has devoted herself to you long enough; it is now time that your daughter should perform that duty. Take me with you, father. I will not leave you day or night. You will only have to make a sign, to utter a word, and I will serve you on my knees.”
“Oh! you would not have the strength to do it.”
“Yes, yes, my father, I will—as truly as I am your daughter.”
“If you are my daughter, how is it that I have not seen you for ten years?”
“Because I was told that you would not see me, my father; because they told me that you did not love me.”
“You were told that I would not see you—not see that angel face!” said he, taking her head between his hands, and looking at her with intense auction50; “they told you that—they told you that a poor condemned51 soul did not wish for heaven! Who was it, then, that told you a father would not see his child? Who has dared to say, child, your father loves you not?”
“I!——” said the marchioness, again endeavoring to take Marguerite from her father’s arms.
“You!” exclaimed the marquis, interrupting her: “it was you? To you then, has been confided52 the fatal mission of deceiving me in all my affections. All my griefs, then, must find their source in you? You wish, then, now to break the father’s heart, as twenty years ago, you did that of the husband.”
“You are delirious53, sir,” said the marchioness, loosing the arm of her daughter; and going to the right of the marquis, she whispered—“be silent!”
“No, madam, no, I am not now delirious,” replied the marquis, “No! no! Say rather, say that,—and it will be the truth,—say that I am now between an angel who would recall me to reason, and a demon54 who wishes me again to become insane. No! No! I am not mad. Do you wish that I should prove it to you?” He rose, supporting himself on the arms of his chair. “Must I speak to you of letters, of adultery, of a duel55?”
“I say,” said the marchioness, grasping his arm, “I tell you that you are more forsaken56 by heaven than ever, when you utter such things, without reflecting as to whose ears are listening. Cast down your eyes, sir—look who is standing6 yonder, and then dare assert that you are not mad!”
“You are right;” said the marquis, falling back in his chair. “Your mother is right,” continued he, addressing Marguerite—“I am mad, and you must not believe what I say, but what she says. Your mother is devotedness57, virtue58 itself, and therefore, she has not sleepless59 nights, nor remorse60, nor madness. What does your mother wish?”
“And how can I prevent this misery?” said the unhappy old man, with a most heart-rending anguish63; “how can I, a poor, insane old man, prevent it? who thinks he always sees the blood issuing from a wound—who thinks he constantly hears a voice proceeding64 from a tomb!”
“Oh you can do all; say but one word and I am saved! They wish me to marry—”
The marquis listlessly reclined his head on the back of his chair.
“Listen to me! they wish to marry me to a man whom I do not love—do you understand me?—to a wretch65!—and you have been brought here—placed in that arm-chair, before the table—you, you my father! to sign this infamous contract—this contract which I now hand to you.”
“Without consulting me,” said the marquis, taking the contract; “without asking me whether I will, or I will not! Do they believe me dead? And if they think me dead, do they fear me less than they would a spectre? This marriage would cause your misery, you say?”
“My eternal misery!” exclaimed Marguerite. “The marriage, then, shall not take place.”
“I have pledged your word and mine,” said the marchioness, and with the more energy, that she felt her influence over her husband about to escape her.
“This marriage, I tell you, shall not take place!” replied the marquis, in a tone louder than that of his wife. “It is too dreadful a thing,” continued he, in a gloomy sepulchral66 tone, “to be permitted. A marriage in which a wife loves not her husband—why, it causes madness! As to myself, the marchioness has always loved me, and loved me faithfully—that which drove me mad—oh! that was a different matter.”
A flash of diabolical67 joy shot from the eyes of the marchioness, for she at once saw from the violence of the expressions used by her husband, and the terror depicted68 on his features, that his insanity69 was about to return.
“This contract,” said the marquis, and he raised it in his hands as if about to tear it.
The marchioness eagerly caught his hand. Marguerite appeared to be hanging by a thread between heaven and hell.
“That which drives me mad!” reiterated70 the marquis, “is a tomb which widely opens, a spectre that issues from the earth, it is a phantom71 that speaks to me, and says—”
“Your life is in my hands!” murmured the marchioness in his ear, repeating the last words of the dying Morlaix: “I could take it.”
“Do you hear that?” cried the marquis, rising, and as if about to rush from the room.
“My father! oh! my father! recall your senses; there is no tomb, there is no spectre, there is no phantom; those words were uttered by the marchioness.”
“But I wish you to live,” continued the latter, concluding the sentence she had begun, “to forgive me as I forgive you.”
“Pardon, Morlaix, pardon!” cried the marquis, falling back in his arm-chair, his hair standing on end with terror, and the perspiration72 streaming from his forehead.
“Oh! father! father!”
“You see that your father is altogether deranged,” said the marchioness, triumphantly73; “say no more to him.”
“Oh!” cried Marguerite, “God will, I trust perform a miracle! My love, my caresses74, my tears, will restore him to reason.”
“Make the attempt,” replied the marchioness, coldly, abandoning to her care the marquis, who was powerless, speechless, and almost without consciousness.
“Oh! my poor father!” exclaimed Marguerite, in a tone of agony.
“Sir!” said the marchioness, in an imperative manner.
“Eh! eh!” cried the marquis, shuddering76.
“Save me! oh! save me, father!” cried Marguerite, wringing77 her hands, and throwing herself back in despair.
“Take this pen and sign,” said the marchioness, “you must—it is my will.”
“Now, I am lost indeed!” cried Marguerite, overwhelmed with terror, and feeling that she had no longer strength to continue the struggle.
But at the moment that the marquis, overpowered, had written the first letters of his name; when the marchioness was congratulating herself on the victory she had obtained, and Marguerite was about to leave the room in despair, an unexpected incident suddenly changed the scene. The door of the study opened, and Paul, who had been anxiously watching, though invisibly, the whole of this terrible conflict, issued from it.
“Madam,” said he, “one word before this contract is signed!”
“Who is it calls me!” said the marchioness, endeavoring to distinguish in the distance that separated them, the person who had thus spoken, and who stood in a dark corner of the room.
“I know that voice!” exclaimed the marquis, shuddering, as if seared by a red-hot iron.
Paul advanced three paces, and the light from the lustre78 hanging in the centre of the room fell full upon him.
“Is it a spectre?” cried the marchioness, in her turn, struck with the resemblance of the youth who stood before her to her former lover.
“I know that face!” cried the marquis, believing that he saw the man whom he had killed.
“My God! my God! protect me,” stammered Marguerite, raising her eyes and hands to heaven.
“Morlaix! Morlaix!” said the marquis, rising and advancing toward Paul, “Morlaix!—pardon! mercy!” and he fell at full length upon the floor.
“My father!” cried Marguerite, rushing to his assistance.
At that moment a servant entered the room, with terror in his looks, and addressing the marchioness said—
“Madam, Achard has sent to request that the priest and the doctor of the castle, may instantly be ordered to attend him—he is dying.”
“Tell him,” replied the marchioness, pointing to her husband, whom Marguerite was vainly endeavoring to restore to consciousness, “that they are both obliged to remain here to attend upon the marquis.”
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收听单词发音
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1
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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notary
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| n.公证人，公证员 | |
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6
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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intimidated
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| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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betrothal
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| n. 婚约, 订婚 | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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conjugal
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| adj.婚姻的，婚姻性的 | |
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15
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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16
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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furrowed
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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19
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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invoking
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| v.援引( invoke的现在分词 )；行使（权利等）；祈求救助；恳求 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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malediction
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| n.诅咒 | |
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impiety
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| n.不敬；不孝 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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49
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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50
auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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51
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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52
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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53
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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54
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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55
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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56
Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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devotedness
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58
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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59
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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60
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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61
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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62
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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63
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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65
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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66
sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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68
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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69
insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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70
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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72
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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73
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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76
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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77
wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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