"Has he arrived?" asked Prulliere, entering the room in his Alpine9 admiral's costume, which was set off by a big sword, enormous top boots and a vast tuft of plumes10.
"Who d'you mean?" said Simonne, taking no notice of him and laughing into the mirror in order to see how her lips looked.
"The prince."
"I don't know; I've just come down. Oh, he's certainly due here tonight; he comes every time!"
Prulliere had drawn12 near the hearth13 opposite the console table, where a coke fire was blazing and two more gas jets were flaring14 brightly. He lifted his eyes and looked at the clock and the barometer15 on his right hand and on his left. They had gilded16 sphinxes by way of adornment17 in the style of the First Empire. Then he stretched himself out in a huge armchair with ears, the green velvet18 of which had been so worn by four generations of comedians19 that it looked yellow in places, and there he stayed, with moveless limbs and vacant eyes, in that weary and resigned attitude peculiar20 to actors who are used to long waits before their turn for going on the stage.
Old Bosc, too, had just made his appearance. He came in dragging one foot behind the other and coughing. He was wrapped in an old box coat, part of which had slipped from his shoulder in such a way as to uncover the gold-laced cloak of King Dagobert. He put his crown on the piano and for a moment or two stood moodily21 stamping his feet. His hands were trembling slightly with the first beginnings of alcoholism, but he looked a sterling22 old fellow for all that, and a long white beard lent that fiery23 tippler's face of his a truly venerable appearance. Then in the silence of the room, while the shower of hail was whipping the panes24 of the great window that looked out on the courtyard, he shook himself disgustedly.
"What filthy25 weather!" he growled26.
Simonne and Prulliere did not move. Four or five pictures--a landscape, a portrait of the actor Vernet--hung yellowing in the hot glare of the gas, and a bust27 of Potier, one of the bygone glories of the Varietes, stood gazing vacant-eyed from its pedestal. But just then there was a burst of voices outside. It was Fontan, dressed for the second act. He was a young dandy, and his habiliments, even to his gloves, were entirely28 yellow.
"Now say you don't know!" he shouted, gesticulating. "Today's my patron saint's day!"
"What?" asked Simonne, coming up smilingly, as though attracted by the huge nose and the vast, comic mouth of the man. "D'you answer to the name of Achille?"
"Exactly so! And I'm going to get 'em to tell Madame Bron to send up champagne29 after the second act."
For some seconds a bell had been ringing in the distance. The long-drawn sound grew fainter, then louder, and when the bell ceased a shout ran up the stair and down it till it was lost along the passages. "All on the stage for the second act! All on the stage for the second act!" The sound drew near, and a little pale-faced man passed by the greenroom doors, outside each of which he yelled at the top of his shrill30 voice, "On the stage for the second act!"
"The deuce, it's champagne!" said Prulliere without appearing to hear the din2. "You're prospering31!"
"If I were you I should have it in from the cafe," old Bosc slowly announced. He was sitting on a bench covered with green velvet, with his head against the wall.
But Simonne said that it was one's duty to consider Mme Bron's small perquisites32. She clapped her hands excitedly and devoured33 Fontan with her gaze while his long goatlike visage kept up a continuous twitching34 of eyes and nose and mouth.
"Oh, that Fontan!" she murmured. "There's no one like him, no one like him!"
The two greenroom doors stood wide open to the corridor leading to the wings. And along the yellow wall, which was brightly lit up by a gas lamp out of view, passed a string of rapidly moving shadows--men in costume, women with shawls over their scant36 attire37, in a word, the whole of the characters in the second act, who would shortly make their appearance as masqeuraders in the ball at the Boule Noire. And at the end of the corridor became audible a shuffling38 of feet as these people clattered39 down the five wooden steps which led to the stage. As the big Clarisse went running by Simonne called to her, but she said she would be back directly. And, indeed, she reappeared almost at once, shivering in the thin tunic40 and scarf which she wore as Iris41.
"God bless me!" she said. "It isn't warm, and I've left my furs in my dressing room!"
Then as she stood toasting her legs in their warm rose-colored tights in front of the fireplace she resumed:
"The prince has arrived."
"Oh!" cried the rest with the utmost curiosity.
"Yes, that's why I ran down: I wanted to see. He's in the first stage box to the right, the same he was in on Thursday. It's the third time he's been this week, eh? That's Nana; well, she's in luck's way! I was willing to wager43 he wouldn't come again."
Simonne opened her lips to speak, but her remarks were drowned by a fresh shout which arose close to the greenroom. In the passage the callboy was yelling at the top of his shrill voice, "They've knocked!"
"Three times!" said Simonne when she was again able to speak. "It's getting exciting. You know, he won't go to her place; he takes her to his. And it seems that he has to pay for it too!"
"Egad! It's a case of when one 'has to go out,'" muttered Prulliere wickedly, and he got up to have a last look at the mirror as became a handsome fellow whom the boxes adored.
"They've knocked! They've knocked!" the callboy kept repeating in tones that died gradually away in the distance as he passed through the various stories and corridors.
Fontan thereupon, knowing how it had all gone off on the first occasion the prince and Nana met, told the two women the whole story while they in their turn crowded against him and laughed at the tops of their voices whenever he stooped to whisper certain details in their ears. Old Bosc had never budged44 an inch--he was totally indifferent. That sort of thing no longer interested him now. He was stroking a great tortoise-shell cat which was lying curled up on the bench. He did so quite beautifully and ended by taking her in his arms with the tender good nature becoming a worn-out monarch45. The cat arched its back and then, after a prolonged sniff46 at the big white beard, the gluey odor of which doubtless disgusted her, she turned and, curling herself up, went to sleep again on the bench beside him. Bosc remained grave and absorbed.
"That's all right, but if I were you I should drink the champagne at the restaurant--its better there," he said, suddenly addressing Fontan when he had finished his recital47.
"The curtain's up!" cried the callboy in cracked and long-drawn accents "The curtain's up! The curtain's up!"
The shout sounded for some moments, during which there had been a noise of rapid footsteps. Through the suddenly opened door of the passage came a burst of music and a far-off murmur35 of voices, and then the door shut to again and you could hear its dull thud as it wedged itself into position once more.
A heavy, peaceful, atmosphere again pervaded49 the greenroom, as though the place were situated a hundred leagues from the house where crowds were applauding. Simonne and Clarisse were still on the topic of Nana. There was a girl who never hurried herself!
Why, yesterday she had again come on too late! But there was a silence, for a tall damsel had just craned her head in at the door and, seeing that she had made a mistake, had departed to the other end of the passage. It was Satin. Wearing a hat and a small veil for the nonce she was affecting the manner of a lady about to pay a call.
"A pretty trollop!" muttered Prulliere, who had been coming across her for a year past at the Cafe des Varietes. And at this Simonne told them how Nana had recognized in Satin an old schoolmate, had taken a vast fancy to her and was now plaguing Bordenave to let her make a first appearance on the stage.
"How d'ye do?" said Fontan, shaking hands with Mignon and Fauchery, who now came into the room.
Old Bosc himself gave them the tips of his fingers while the two women kissed Mignon.
"A good house this evening?" queried51 Fauchery.
"Oh, a splendid one!" replied Prulliere. "You should see 'em gaping53."
"I say, my little dears," remarked Mignon, "it must be your turn!"
Oh, all in good time! They were only at the fourth scene as yet, but Bosc got up in obedience54 to instinct, as became a rattling55 old actor who felt that his cue was coming. At that very moment the callboy was opening the door.
"Monsieur Bosc!" he called. "Mademoiselle Simonne!"
Simonne flung a fur-lined pelisse briskly over her shoulders and went out. Bosc, without hurrying at all, went and got his crown, which he settled on his brow with a rap. Then dragging himself unsteadily along in his greatcoat, he took his departure, grumbling56 and looking as annoyed as a man who has been rudely disturbed.
"You were very amiable57 in your last notice," continued Fontan, addressing Fauchery. "Only why do you say that comedians are vain?"
"Yes, my little man, why d'you say that?" shouted Mignon, bringing down his huge hands on the journalist's slender shoulders with such force as almost to double him up.
Prulliere and Clarisse refrained from laughing aloud. For some time past the whole company had been deriving58 amusement from a comedy which was going on in the wings. Mignon, rendered frantic59 by his wife's caprice and annoyed at the thought that this man Fauchery brought nothing but a certain doubiful notoriety to his household, had conceived the idea of revenging himself on the journalist by overwhelming him with tokens of friendship. Every evening, therefore, when he met him behind scenes he would shower friendly slaps on his back and shoulders, as though fairly carried away by an outburst of tenderness, and Fauchery, who was a frail60, small man in comparison with such a giant, was fain to take the raps with a strained smile in order not to quarrel with Rose's husband.
"Aha, my buck61, you've insulted Fontan," resumed Mignon, who was doing his best to force the joke. "Stand on guard! One--two--got him right in the middle of his chest!"
He lunged and struck the young man with such force that the latter grew very pale and could not speak for some seconds. With a wink62 Clarisse showed the others where Rose Mignon was standing on the threshold of the greenroom. Rose had witnessed the scene, and she marched straight up to the journalist, as though she had failed to notice her husband and, standing on tiptoe, bare-armed and in baby costume, she held her face up to him with a caressing63, infantine pout64.
"Good evening, baby," said Fauchery, kissing her familiarly.
Thus he indemnified himself. Mignon, however, did not seem to have observed this kiss, for everybody kissed his wife at the theater. But he laughed and gave the journalist a keen little look. The latter would assurely have to pay for Rose's bravado65.
In the passage the tightly shutting door opened and closed again, and a tempest of applause was blown as far as the greenroom. Simonne came in after her scene.
"Oh, Father Bosc HAS just scored!" she cried. "The prince was writhing66 with laughter and applauded with the rest as though he had been paid to. I say, do you know the big man sitting beside the prince in the stage box? A handsome man, with a very sedate67 expression and splendid whiskers!"
"It's Count Muffat," replied Fauchery. "I know that the prince, when he was at the empress's the day before yesterday, invited him to dinner for tonight. He'll have corrupted68 him afterward69!"
"So that's Count Muffat! We know his father-in-law, eh, Auguste?" said Rose, addressing her remark to Mignon. "You know the Marquis de Chouard, at whose place I went to sing? Well, he's in the house too. I noticed him at the back of a box. There's an old boy for you!"
Prulliere, who had just put on his huge plume11 of feathers, turned round and called her.
"Hi, Rose! Let's go now!"
She ran after him, leaving her sentence unfinished. At that moment Mme Bron, the portress of the theater, passed by the door with an immense bouquet70 in her arms. Simonne asked cheerfully if it was for her, but the porter woman did not vouchsafe71 an answer and only pointed72 her chin toward Nana's dressing room at the end of the passage. Oh, that Nana! They were loading her with flowers! Then when Mme Bron returned she handed a letter to Clarisse, who allowed a smothered73 oath to escape her. That beggar La Faloise again! There was a fellow who wouldn't let her alone! And when she learned the gentleman in question was waiting for her at the porter's lodge74 she shrieked75:
"Tell him I'm coming down after this act. I'm going to catch him one on the face."
Fontan had rushed forward, shouting:
"Madame Bron, just listen. Please listen, Madame Bron. I want you to send up six bottles of champagne between the acts."
But the callboy had again made his appearance. He was out of breath, and in a singsong voice he called out:
"All to go on the stage! It's your turn, Monsieur Fontan. Make haste, make haste!"
"Yes, yes, I'm going, Father Barillot," replied Fontan in a flurry.
And he ran after Mme Bron and continued:
"You understand, eh? Six bottles of champagne in the greenroom between the acts. It's my patron saint's day, and I'm standing the racket."
Simonne and Clarisse had gone off with a great rustling76 of skirts. Everybody was swallowed up in the distance, and when the passage door had banged with its usual hollow sound a fresh hail shower was heard beating against the windows in the now-silent greenroom. Barillot, a small, pale-faced ancient, who for thirty years had been a servant in the theater, had advanced familiarly toward Mignon and had presented his open snuffbox to him. This proffer77 of a pinch and its acceptance allowed him a minute's rest in his interminable career up and down stairs and along the dressing-room passage. He certainly had still to look up Mme Nana, as he called her, but she was one of those who followed her own sweet will and didn't care a pin for penalties. Why, if she chose to be too late she was too late! But he stopped short and murmured in great surprise:
"Well, I never! She's ready; here she is! She must know that the prince is here."
Indeed, Nana appeared in the corridor. She was dressed as a fish hag: her arms and face were plastered with white paint, and she had a couple of red dabs78 under her eyes. Without entering the greenroom she contented79 herself by nodding to Mignon and Fauchery.
"How do? You're all right?"
Only Mignon shook her outstretched hand, and she hied royally on her way, followed by her dresser, who almost trod on her heels while stooping to adjust the folds of her skirt. In the rear of the dresser came Satin, closing the procession and trying to look quite the lady, though she was already bored to death.
"And Steiner?" asked Mignon sharply.
"Monsieur Steiner has gone away to the Loiret," said Barillot, preparing to return to the neighborhood of the stage. "I expect he's gone to buy a country place in those parts."
"Ah yes, I know, Nana's country place."
Mignon had grown suddenly serious. Oh, that Steiner! He had promised Rose a fine house in the old days! Well, well, it wouldn't do to grow angry with anybody. Here was a position that would have to be won again. From fireplace to console table Mignon paced, sunk in thought yet still unconquered by circumstances. There was no one in the greenroom now save Fauchery and himself. The journalist was tired and had flung himself back into the recesses81 of the big armchair. There he stayed with half-closed eyes and as quiet as quiet could be, while the other glanced down at him as he passed. When they were alone Mignon scorned to slap him at every turn. What good would it have done, since nobody would have enjoyed the spectacle? He was far too disinterested82 to be personally entertained by the farcical scenes in which he figured as a bantering83 husband. Glad of this short-lived respite84, Fauchery stretched his feet out languidly toward the fire and let his upturned eyes wander from the barometer to the clock. In the course of his march Mignon planted himself in front of Potier's bust, ooked at it without seeming to see it and then turned back to the window, outside which yawned the darkling gulf85 of the courtyard. The rain had ceased, and there was now a deep silence in the room, which the fierce heat of the coke fire and the flare86 of the gas jets rendered still more oppressive. Not a sound came from the wings: the staircase and the passages were deadly still.
That choking sensation of quiet, which behind the scenes immediately precedes the end of an act, had begun to pervade48 the empty greenroom. Indeed, the place seemed to be drowsing off through very breathlessness amid that faint murmur which the stage gives forth87 when the whole troupe88 are raising the deafening89 uproar90 of some grand finale.
"Oh, the cows!" Bordenave suddeniy shouted in his hoarse91 voice.
He had only just come up, and he was already howling complaints about two chorus girls who had nearly fallen flat on the stage because they were playing the fool together. When his eye lit on Mignon and Fauchery he called them; he wanted to show them something. The prince had just notified a desire to compliment Nana in her dressing room during the next interval92. But as he was leading them into the wings the stage manager passed.
"Just you find those hags Fernande and Maria!" cried Bordenave savagely93.
Then calming down and endeavoring to assume the dignified95 expression worn by "heavy fathers," he wiped his face with his pocket handkerchief and added:
"I am now going to receive His Highness."
The curtain fell amid a long-drawn salvo of applause. Then across the twilight96 stage, which was no longer lit up by the footlights, there followed a disorderly retreat. Actors and supers and chorus made haste to get back to their dressing rooms while the sceneshifters rapidly changed the scenery. Simonne and Clarisse, however, had remained "at the top," talking together in whispers. On the stage, in an interval between their lines, they had just settled a little matter. Clarisse, after viewing the thing in every light, found she preferred not to see La Faloise, who could never decide to leave her for Gaga, and so Simonne was simply to go and explain that a woman ought not to be palled97 up to in that fashion! At last she agreed to undertake the mission.
Then Simonne, in her theatrical98 laundress's attire but with furs over her shoulders, ran down the greasy99 steps of the narrow, winding100 stairs which led between damp walls to the porter's lodge. This lodge, situated between the actors' staircase and that of the management, was shut in to right and left by large glass partitions and resembled a huge transparent101 lantern in which two gas jets were flaring.
There was a set of pigeonholes102 in the place in which were piled letters and newspapers, while on the table various bouquets103 lay awaiting their recipients104 in close proximity105 to neglected heaps of dirty plates and to an old pair of stays, the eyelets of which the portress was busy mending. And in the middle of this untidy, ill-kept storeroom sat four fashionable, white-gloved society men. They occupied as many ancient straw-bottomed chairs and, with an expression at once patient and submissive, kept sharply turning their heads in Mme Bron's direction every time she came down from the theater overhead, for on such occasions she was the bearer of replies. Indeed, she had but now handed a note to a young man who had hurried out to open it beneath the gaslight in the vestibule, where he had grown slightly pale on reading the classic phrase--how often had others read it in that very place!--"Impossible tonight, my dearie! I'm booked!" La Faloise sat on one of these chairs at the back of the room, between the table and the stove. He seemed bent106 on passing the evening there, and yet he was not quite happy. Indeed, he kept tucking up his long legs in his endeavors to escape from a whole litter of black kittens who were gamboling wildly round them while the mother cat sat bolt upright, staring at him with yellow eyes.
"Ah, it's you, Mademoiselle Simonne! What can I do for you?" asked the portress.
Simonne begged her to send La Faloise out to her. But Mme Bron was unable to comply with her wishes all at once. Under the stairs in a sort of deep cupboard she kept a little bar, whither the supers were wont107 to descend108 for drinks between the acts, and seeing that just at that moment there were five or six tall lubbers there who, still dressed as Boule Noire masqueraders, were dying of thirst and in a great hurry, she lost her head a bit. A gas jet was flaring in the cupboard, within which it was possible to descry109 a tin-covered table and some shelves garnished110 with half-emptied bottles. Whenever the door of this coalhole was opened a violent whiff of alcohol mingled111 with the scent112 of stale cooking in the lodge, as well as with the penetrating113 scent of the flowers upon the table.
"Well now," continued the portress when she had served the supers, "is it the little dark chap out there you want?"
"No, no; don't be silly!" said Simonne. "It's the lanky114 one by the side of the stove. Your cat's sniffing115 at his trouser legs!"
And with that she carried La Faloise off into the lobby, while the other gentlemen once more resigned themselves to their fate and to semisuffocation and the masqueraders drank on the stairs and indulged in rough horseplay and guttural drunken jests.
On the stage above Bordenave was wild with the sceneshifters, who seemed never to have done changing scenes. They appeared to be acting116 of set purpose--the prince would certainly have some set piece or other tumbling on his head.
"Up with it! Up with it!" shouted the foreman.
At length the canvas at the back of the stage was raised into position, and the stage was clear. Mignon, who had kept his eye on Fauchery, seized this opportunity in order to start his pummeling matches again. He hugged him in his long arms and cried:
"Oh, take care! That mast just missed crushing you!"
And he carried him off and shook him before setting him down again. In view of the sceneshifters' exaggerated mirth, Fauchery grew white. His lips trembled, and he was ready to flare up in anger while Mignon, shamming118 good nature, was clapping him on the shoulder with such affectionate violence as nearly to pulverize119 him.
"I value your health, I do!" he kept repeating. "Egad! I should be in a pretty pickle120 if anything serious happened to you!"
But just then a whisper ran through their midst: "The prince! The prince! And everybody turned and looked at the little door which opened out of the main body of the house. At first nothing was visible save Bordenave's round back and beefy neck, which bobbed down and arched up in a series of obsequious121 obeisances122. Then the prince made his appearance. Largely and strongly built, light of beard and rosy123 of hue124, he was not lacking in the kind of distinction peculiar to a sturdy man of pleasure, the square contours of whose limbs are clearly defined by the irreproachable125 cut of a frock coat. Behind him walked Count Muffat and the Marquis de Chouard, but this particular corner of the theater being dark, the group were lost to view amid huge moving shadows.
In order fittingly to address the son of a queen, who would someday occupy a throne, Bordenave had assumed the tone of a man exhibiting a bear in the street. In a voice tremulous with false emotion he kept repeating:
"If His Highness will have the goodness to follow me--would His Highness deign126 to come this way? His Highness will take care!"
The prince did not hurry in the least. On the contrary, he was greatly interested and kept pausing in order to look at the sceneshifters' maneuvers127. A batten had just been lowered, and the group of gaslights high up among its iron crossbars illuminated128 the stage with a wide beam of light. Muffat, who had never yet been behind scenes at a theater, was even more astonished than the rest. An uneasy feeling of mingled fear and vague repugnance129 took possession of him. He looked up into the heights above him, where more battens, the gas jets on which were burning low, gleamed like galaxies130 of little bluish stars amid a chaos131 of iron rods, connecting lines of all sizes, hanging stages and canvases spread out in space, like huge cloths hung out to dry.
"Lower away!" shouted the foreman unexpectedly.
And the prince himself had to warn the count, for a canvas was descending132. They were setting the scenery for the third act, which was the grotto133 on Mount Etna. Men were busy planting masts in the sockets134, while others went and took frames which were leaning against the walls of the stage and proceeded to lash135 them with strong cords to the poles already in position. At the back of the stage, with a view to producing the bright rays thrown by Vulcan's glowing forge, a stand had been fixed136 by a limelight man, who was now lighting137 various burners under red glasses. The scene was one of confusion, verging138 to all appearances on absolute chaos, but every little move had been prearranged. Nay139, amid all the scurry140 the whistle blower even took a few turns, stepping short as he did so, in order to rest his legs.
"His Highness overwhelms me," said Bordenave, still bowing low. "The theater is not large, but we do what we can. Now if His Highness deigns141 to follow me--"
Count Muffat was already making for the dressing-room passage. The really sharp downward slope of the stage had surprised him disagreeably, and he owed no small part of his present anxiety to a feeling that its boards were moving under his feet. Through the open sockets gas was descried142 burning in the "dock." Human voices and blasts of air, as from a vault143, came up thence, and, looking down into the depths of gloom, one became aware of a whole subterranean144 existence. But just as the count was going up the stage a small incident occurred to stop him. Two little women, dressed for the third act, were chatting by the peephole in the curtain. One of them, straining forward and widening the hole with her fingers in order the better to observe things, was scanning the house beyond.
"I see him," said she sharply. "Oh, what a mug!"
Horrified145, Bordenave had much ado not to give her a kick. But the prince smiled and looked pleased and excited by the remark. He gazed warmly at the little woman who did not care a button for His Highness, and she, on her part, laughed unblushingly. Bordenave, however, persuaded the prince to follow him. Muffat was beginning to perspire146; he had taken his hat off. What inconvenienced him most was the stuffy147, dense148, overheated air of the place with its strong, haunting smell, a smell peculiar to this part of a theater, and, as such, compact of the reek149 of gas, of the glue used in the manufacture of the scenery, of dirty dark nooks and corners and of questionably150 clean chorus girls. In the passage the air was still more suffocating151, and one seemed to breathe a poisoned atmosphere, which was occasionally relieved by the acid scents152 of toilet waters and the perfumes of various soaps emanating154 from the dressing rooms.
The count lifted his eyes as he passed and glanced up the staircase, for he was well-nigh startled by the keen flood of light and warmth which flowed down upon his back and shoulders. High up above him there was a clicking of ewers155 and basins, a sound of laughter and of people calling to one another, a banging of doors, which in their continual opening and shutting allowed an odor of womankind to escape--a musky scent of oils and essences mingling157 with the natural pungency158 exhaled159 from human tresses. He did not stop. Nay, he hastened his walk: he almost ran, his skin tingling160 with the breath of that fiery approach to a world he knew nothing of.
"A theater's a curious sight, eh?" said the Marquis de Chouard with the enchanted161 expression of a man who once more finds himself amid familiar surroundings.
But Bordenave had at length reached Nana's dressing room at the end of the passage. He quietly turned the door handle; then, cringing162 again:
"If His Highness will have the goodness to enter--"
They heard the cry of a startled woman and caught sight of Nana as, stripped to the waist, she slipped behind a curtain while her dresser, who had been in the act of drying her, stood, towel in air, before them.
"Oh, it IS silly to come in that way!" cried Nana from her hiding place. "Don't come in; you see you mustn't come in!"
Bordenave did not seem to relish163 this sudden flight.
"Do stay where you were, my dear. Why, it doesn't matter," he said. "It's His Highness. Come, come, don't be childish."
And when she still refused to make her appearance--for she was startled as yet, though she had begun to laugh--he added in peevish164, paternal165 tones:
"Good heavens, these gentlemen know perfectly166 well what a woman looks like. They won't eat you."
"I'm not so sure of that," said the prince wittily167.
With that the whole company began laughing in an exaggerated manner in order to pay him proper court.
"An exquisitely168 witty169 speech--an altogether Parisian speech," as Bordenave remarked.
Nana vouchsafed170 no further reply, but the curtain began moving. Doubtless she was making up her mind. Then Count Muffat, with glowing cheeks, began to take stock of the dressing room. It was a square room with a very low ceiling, and it was entirely hung with a light-colored Havana stuff. A curtain of the same material depended from a copper171 rod and formed a sort of recess80 at the end of the room, while two large windows opened on the courtyard of the theater and were faced, at a distance of three yards at most, by a leprous-looking wall against which the panes cast squares of yellow light amid the surrounding darkness. A large dressing glass faced a white marble toilet table, which was garnished with a disorderly array of flasks172 and glass boxes containing oils, essences and powders. The count went up to the dressing glass and discovered that he was looking very flushed and had small drops of perspiration173 on his forehead. He dropped his eyes and came and took up a position in front of the toilet table, where the basin, full of soapy water, the small, scattered174, ivory toilet utensils175 and the damp sponges, appeared for some moments to absorb his attention. The feeling of dizziness which he had experienced when he first visited Nana in the Boulevard Haussmann once more overcame him. He felt the thick carpet soften176 under foot, and the gasjets burning by the dressing table and by the glass seemed to shoot whistling flames about his temples. For one moment, being afraid of fainting away under the influence of those feminine odors which he now re-encountered, intensified177 by the heat under the low-pitched ceiling, he sat down on the edge of a softly padded divan178 between the two windows. But he got up again almost directly and, returning to the dressing table, seemed to gaze with vacant eyes into space, for he was thinking of a bouquet of tuberoses which had once faded in his bedroom and had nearly killed him in their death. When tuberoses are turning brown they have a human smell.
"Make haste!" Bordenave whispered, putting his head in behind the curtain.
The prince, however, was listening complaisantly to the Marquis de Chouard, who had taken up a hare's-foot on the dressing table and had begun explaining the way grease paint is put on. In a corner of the room Satin, with her pure, virginal face, was scanning the gentlemen keenly, while the dresser, Mme Jules by name, was getting ready Venus' tights and tunic. Mme Jules was a woman of no age. She had the parchment skin and changeless features peculiar to old maids whom no one ever knew in their younger years. She had indeed shriveled up in the burning atmosphere of the dressing rooms and amid the most famous thighs179 and bosoms180 in all Paris. She wore everlastingly182 a faded black dress, and on her flat and sexless chest a perfect forest of pins clustered above the spot where her heart should have been.
"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said Nana, drawing aside the curtain, "but you took me by surprise."
They all turned round. She had not clothed herself at all, had, in fact, only buttoned on a little pair of linen183 stays which half revealed her bosom181. When the gentlemen had put her to flight she had scarcely begun undressing and was rapidly taking off her fishwife's costume. Through the opening in her drawers behind a corner of her shift was even now visible. There she stood, bare-armed, bare-shouldered, bare-breasted, in all the adorable glory of her youth and plump, fair beauty, but she still held the curtain with one hand, as though ready to draw it to again upon the slightest provocation184.
"Yes, you took me by surprise! I never shall dare--" she stammered185 in pretty, mock confusion, while rosy blushes crossed her neck and shoulders and smiles of embarrassment186 played about her lips.
"Oh, don't apologize," cried Bordenave, "since these gentlemen approve of your good looks!"
But she still tried the hesitating, innocent, girlish game, and, shivering as though someone were tickling187 her, she continued:
"His Highness does me too great an honor. I beg His Highness will excuse my receiving him thus--"
"It is I who am importunate," said the prince, "but, madame, I could not resist the desire of complimenting you."
Thereupon, in order to reach her dressing table, she walked very quietly and just as she was through the midst of the gentlemen, who made way for her to pass.
She had strongly marked hips188, which filled her drawers out roundly, while with swelling189 bosom she still continued bowing and smiling her delicate little smile. Suddenly she seemed to recognize Count Muffat, and she extended her hand to him as an old friend. Then she scolded him for not having come to her supper party. His Highness deigned190 to chaff191 Muffat about this, and the latter stammered and thrilled again at the thought that for one second he had held in his own feverish192 clasp a little fresh and perfumed hand. The count had dined excellently at the prince's, who, indeed, was a heroic eater and drinker. Both of them were even a little intoxicated193, but they behaved very creditably. To hide the commotion194 within him Muffat could only remark about the heat.
"Good heavens, how hot it is here!" he said. "How do you manage to live in such a temperature, madame?"
And conversation was about to ensue on this topic when noisy voices were heard at the dressing-room door. Bordenave drew back the slide over a grated peephole of the kind used in convents. Fontan was outside with Prulliere and Bosc, and all three had bottles under their arms and their hands full of glasses. He began knocking and shouting out that it was his patron saint's day and that he was standing champagne round. Nana consulted the prince with a glance. Eh! Oh dear, yes! His Highness did not want to be in anyone's way; he would be only too happy! But without waiting for permission Fontan came in, repeating in baby accents:
"Me not a cad, me pay for champagne!"
Then all of a sudden he became aware of the prince's presence of which he had been totally ignorant. He stopped short and, assuming an air of farcical solemnity, announced:
"King Dagobert is in the corridor and is desirous of drinking the health of His Royal Highness."
The prince having made answer with a smile, Fontan's sally was voted charming. But the dressing room was too small to accommodate everybody, and it became necessary to crowd up anyhow, Satin and Mme Jules standing back against the curtain at the end and the men clustering closely round the half-naked Nana. The three actors still had on the costumes they had been wearing in the second act, and while Prulliere took off his Alpine admiral's cocked hat, the huge plume of which would have knocked the ceiling, Bosc, in his purple cloak and tinware crown, steadied himself on his tipsy old legs and greeted the prince as became a monarch receiving the son of a powerful neighbor. The glasses were filled, and the company began clinking them together.
"I drink to Your Highness!" said ancient Bosc royally.
"To the army!" added Prulliere.
"To Venus!" cried Fontan.
The prince complaisantly poised196 his glass, waited quietly, bowed thrice and murmured:
"Madame! Admiral! Your Majesty197!"
Then he drank it off. Count Muffat and the Marquis de Chouard had followed his example. There was no more jesting now--the company were at court. Actual life was prolonged in the life of the theater, and a sort of solemn farce198 was enacted199 under the hot flare of the gas. Nana, quite forgetting that she was in her drawers and that a corner of her shift stuck out behind, became the great lady, the queen of love, in act to open her most private palace chambers200 to state dignitaries. In every sentence she used the words "Royal Highness" and, bowing with the utmost conviction, treated the masqueraders, Bosc and Prulliere, as if the one were a sovereign and the other his attendant minister. And no one dreamed of smiling at this strange contrast, this real prince, this heir to a throne, drinking a petty actor's champagne and taking his ease amid a carnival202 of gods, a masquerade of royalty203, in the society of dressers and courtesans, shabby players and showmen of venal204 beauty. Bordenave was simply ravished by the dramatic aspects of the scene and began dreaming of the receipts which would have accrued205 had His Highness only consented thus to appear in the second act of the Blonde Venus.
"I say, shall we have our little women down?" he cried, becoming familiar.
Nana would not hear of it. But notwithstanding this, she was giving way herself. Fontan attracted her with his comic make-up. She brushed against him and, eying him as a woman in the family way might do when she fancies some unpleasant kind of food, she suddenly became extremely familiar:
"Now then, fill up again, ye great brute206!"
Fontan charged the glasses afresh, and the company drank, repeating the same toasts.
"To His Highness!"
"To the army!"
"To Venus!"
But with that Nana made a sign and obtained silence. She raised her glass and cried:
"No, no! To Fontan! It's Fontan's day; to Fontan! To Fontan!"
Then they clinked glasses a third time and drank Fontan with all the honors. The prince, who had noticed the young woman devouring207 the actor with her eyes, saluted208 him with a "Monsieur Fontan, I drink to your success!" This he said with his customary courtesy.
But meanwhile the tail of his highness's frock coat was sweeping209 the marble of the dressing table. The place, indeed, was like an alcove210 or narrow bathroom, full as it was of the steam of hot water and sponges and of the strong scent of essences which mingled with the tartish, intoxicating211 fumes153 of the champagne. The prince and Count Muffat, between whom Nana was wedged, had to lift up their hands so as not to brush against her hips or her breast with every little movement. And there stood Mme Jules, waiting, cool and rigid212 as ever, while Satin, marveling in the depths of her vicious soul to see a prince and two gentlemen in black coats going after a naked woman in the society of dressed-up actors, secretly concluded that fashionable people were not so very particular after all.
But Father Barillot's tinkling213 bell approached along the passage. At the door of the dressing room he stood amazed when he caught sight of the three actors still clad in the costumes which they had worn in the second act.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," he stammered, "do please make haste. They've just rung the bell in the public foyer."
"Bah, the public will have to wait!" said Bordenave placidly214.
However, as the bottles were now empty, the comedians went upstairs to dress after yet another interchange of civilities. Bosc, having dipped his beard in the champagne, had taken it off, and under his venerable disguise the drunkard had suddenly reappeared. His was the haggard, empurpled face of the old actor who has taken to drink. At the foot of the stairs he was heard remarking to Fontan in his boozy voice:
"I pulverized215 him, eh?"
He was alluding216 to the prince.
In Nana's dressing room none now remained save His Highness, the count and the marquis. Bordenave had withdrawn217 with Barillot, whom he advised not to knock without first letting Madame know.
"You will excuse me, gentlemen?" asked Nana, again setting to work to make up her arms and face, of which she was now particularly careful, owing to her nude218 appearance in the third act.
The prince seated himself by the Marquis de Chouard on the divan, and Count Muffat alone remained standing. In that suffocating heat the two glasses of champagne they had drunk had increased their intoxication219. Satin, when she saw the gentlemen thus closeting themselves with her friend, had deemed it discreet220 to vanish behind the curtain, where she sat waiting on a trunk, much annoyed at being compelled to remain motionless, while Mme Jules came and went quietly without word or look.
"You sang your numbers marvelously," said the prince.
And with that they began a conversation, but their sentences were short and their pauses frequent. Nana, indeed, was not always able to reply. After rubbing cold cream over her arms and face with the palm of her hand she laid on the grease paint with the corner of a towel. For one second only she ceased looking in the glass and smilingly stole a glance at the prince.
"His Highness is spoiling me," she murmured without putting down the grease paint.
Her task was a complicated one, and the Marquis de Chouard followed it with an expression of devout221 enjoyment222. He spoke223 in his turn.
"Could not the band accompany you more softly?" he said. "It drowns your voice, and that's an unpardonable crime."
This time Nana did not turn round. She had taken up the hare's-foot and was lightly manipulating it. All her attention was concentrated on this action, and she bent forward over her toilet table so very far that the white round contour of her drawers and the little patch of chemise stood out with the unwonted tension. But she was anxious to prove that she appreciated the old man's compliment and therefore made a little swinging movement with her hips.
Silence reigned224. Mme Jules had noticed a tear in the right leg of her drawers. She took a pin from over her heart and for a second or so knelt on the ground, busily at work about Nana's leg, while the young woman, without seeming to notice her presence, applied225 the rice powder, taking extreme pains as she did so, to avoid putting any on the upper part of her cheeks. But when the prince remarked that if she were to come and sing in London all England would want to applaud her, she laughed amiably226 and turned round for a moment with her left cheek looking very white amid a perfect cloud of powder. Then she became suddenly serious, for she had come to the operation of rouging227. And with her face once more close to the mirror, she dipped her finger in a jar and began applying the rouge228 below her eyes and gently spreading it back toward her temples. The gentlemen maintained a respectful silence.
Count Muffat, indeed, had not yet opened his lips. He was thinking perforce of his own youth. The bedroom of his childish days had been quite cold, and later, when he had reached the age of sixteen and would give his mother a good-night kiss every evening, he used to carry the icy feeling of the embrace into the world of dreams. One day in passing a half-open door he had caught sight of a maidservant washing herself, and that was the solitary229 recollection which had in any way troubled his peace of mind from the days of puberty till the time of marriage. Afterward he had found his wife strictly230 obedient to her conjugal231 duties but had himself felt a species of religious dislike to them. He had grown to man's estate and was now aging, in ignorance of the flesh, in the humble232 observance of rigid devotional practices and in obedience to a rule of life full of precepts233 and moral laws. And now suddenly he was dropped down in this actress's dressing room in the presence of this undraped courtesan.
He, who had never seen the Countess Muffat putting on her garters, was witnessing, amid that wild disarray234 of jars and basins and that strong, sweet perfume, the intimate details of a woman's toilet. His whole being was in turmoil235; he was terrified by the stealthy, all-pervading influence which for some time past Nana's presence had been exercising over him, and he recalled to mind the pious236 accounts of diabolic possession which had amused his early years. He was a believer in the devil, and, in a confused kind of way, Nana was he, with her laughter and her bosom and her hips, which seemed swollen237 with many vices238. But he promised himself that he would be strong--nay, he would know how to defend himself.
"Well then, it's agreed," said the prince, lounging quite comfortably on the divan. "You will come to London next year, and we shall receive you so cordially that you will never return to France again. Ah, my dear Count, you don't value your pretty women enough. We shall take them all from you!"
"That won't make much odds239 to him," murmured the Marquis de Chouard wickedly, for he occasionally said a risky240 thing among friends. "The count is virtue241 itself."
Hearing his virtue mentioned, Nana looked at him so comically that Muffat felt a keen twinge of annoyance242. But directly afterward he was surprised and angry with himself. Why, in the presence of this courtesan, should the idea of being virtuous243 embarrass him? He could have struck her. But in attempting to take up a brush Nana had just let it drop on the ground, and as she stooped to pick it up he rushed forward. Their breath mingled for one moment, and the loosened tresses of Venus flowed over his hands. But remorse244 mingled with his enjoyment, a kind of enjoyment, moreover, peculiar to good Catholics, whom the fear of hell torments245 in the midst of their sin.
At this moment Father Barillot's voice was heard outside the door.
"May I give the knocks, madame? The house is growing impatient."
"All in good time," answered Nana quietly.
She had dipped her paint brush in a pot of kohl, and with the point of her nose close to the glass and her left eye closed she passed it delicately along between her eyelashes. Muffat stood behind her, looking on. He saw her reflection in the mirror, with her rounded shoulders and her bosom half hidden by a rosy shadow. And despite all his endeavors he could not turn away his gaze from that face so merry with dimples and so worn with desire, which the closed eye rendered more seductive. When she shut her right eye and passed the brush along it he understood that he belonged to her.
"They are stamping their feet, madame," the callboy once more cried. "They'll end by smashing the seats. May I give the knocks?"
"Oh, bother!" said Nana impatiently. "Knock away; I don't care! If I'm not ready, well, they'll have to wait for me!"
She grew calm again and, turning to the gentlemen, added with a smile:
"It's true: we've only got a minute left for our talk."
Her face and arms were now finished, and with her fingers she put two large dabs of carmine246 on her lips. Count Muffat felt more excited than ever. He was ravished by the perverse247 transformation248 wrought249 by powders and paints and filled by a lawless yearning250 for those young painted charms, for the too-red mouth and the too-white face and the exaggerated eyes, ringed round with black and burning and dying for very love. Meanwhile Nana went behind the curtain for a second or two in order to take off her drawers and slip on Venus' tights. After which, with tranquil251 immodesty, she came out and undid252 her little linen stays and held out her arms to Mme Jules, who drew the short-sleeved tunic over them.
"Make haste; they're growing angry!" she muttered.
The prince with half-closed eyes marked the swelling lines of her bosom with an air of connoisseurship253, while the Marquis de Chouard wagged his head involuntarily. Muffat gazed at the carpet in order not to see any more. At length Venus, with only her gauze veil over her shoulders, was ready to go on the stage. Mme Jules, with vacant, unconcerned eyes and an expression suggestive of a little elderly wooden doll, still kept circling round her. With brisk movements she took pins out of the inexhaustible pincushion over her heart and pinned up Venus' tunic, but as she ran over all those plump nude charms with her shriveled hands, nothing was suggested to her. She was as one whom her sex does not concern.
"There!" said the young woman, taking a final look at herself in the mirror.
Bordenave was back again. He was anxious and said the third act had begun.
"Very well! I'm coming," replied Nana. "Here's a pretty fuss! Why, it's usually I that waits for the others."
The gentlemen left the dressing room, but they did not say good-by, for the prince had expressed a desire to assist behind the scenes at the performance of the third act. Left alone, Nana seemed greatly surprised and looked round her in all directions.
"Where can she be?" she queried.
She was searching for Satin. When she had found her again, waiting on her trunk behind the curtain, Satin quietly replied:
"Certainly I didn't want to be in your way with all those men there!"
And she added further that she was going now. But Nana held her back. What a silly girl she was! Now that Bordenave had agreed to take her on! Why, the bargain was to be struck after the play was over! Satin hesitated. There were too many bothers; she was out of her element! Nevertheless, she stayed.
As the prince was coming down the little wooden staircase a strange sound of smothered oaths and stamping, scuffling feet became audible on the other side of the theater. The actors waiting for their cues were being scared by quite a serious episode. For some seconds past Mignon had been renewing his jokes and smothering254 Fauchery with caresses255. He had at last invented a little game of a novel kind and had begun flicking256 the other's nose in order, as he phrased it, to keep the flies off him. This kind of game naturally diverted the actors to any extent.
But success had suddenly thrown Mignon off his balance. He had launched forth into extravagant257 courses and had given the journalist a box on the ear, an actual, a vigorous, box on the ear. This time he had gone too far: in the presence of so many spectators it was impossible for Fauchery to pocket such a blow with laughing equanimity258. Whereupon the two men had desisted from their farce, had sprung at one another's throats, their faces livid with hate, and were now rolling over and over behind a set of side lights, pounding away at each other as though they weren't breakable.
"Monsieur Bordenave, Monsieur Bordenave!" said the stage manager, coming up in a terrible flutter.
Bordenave made hi excuses to the prince and followed him. When he recognized Fauchery and Mignon in the men on the floor he gave vent195 to an expression of annoyance. They had chosen a nice time, certainly, with His Highness on the other side of the scenery and all that houseful of people who might have overheard the row! To make matters worse, Rose Mignon arrived out of breath at the very moment she was due on the stage. Vulcan, indeed, was giving her the cue, but Rose stood rooted to the ground, marveling at sight of her husband and her lover as they lay wallowing at her feet, strangling one another, kicking, tearing their hair out and whitening their coats with dust. They barred the way. A sceneshifter had even stopped Fauchery's hat just when the devilish thing was going to bound onto the stage in the middle of the struggle. Meanwhile Vulcan, who had been gagging away to amuse the audience, gave Rose her cue a second time. But she stood motionless, still gazing at the two men.
"Oh, don't look at THEM!" Bordenave furiously whispered to her. "Go on the stage; go on, do! It's no business of yours! Why, you're missing your cue!"
And with a push from the manager, Rose stepped over the prostrate259 bodies and found herself in the flare of the footlights and in the presence of the audience. She had quite failed to understand why they were fighting on the floor behind her. Trembling from head to foot and with a humming in her ears, she came down to the footlights, Diana's sweet, amorous260 smile on her lips, and attacked the opening lines of her duet with so feeling a voice that the public gave her a veritable ovation261.
Behind the scenery she could hear the dull thuds caused by the two men. They had rolled down to the wings, but fortunately the music covered the noise made by their feet as they kicked against them.
"By God!" yelled Bordenave in exasperation262 when at last he had succeeded in separating them. "Why couldn't you fight at home? You know as well as I do that I don't like this sort of thing. You, Mignon, you'll do me the pleasure of staying over here on the prompt side, and you, Fauchery, if you leave the O.P. side I'll chuck you out of the theater. You understand, eh? Prompt side and O.P. side or I forbid Rose to bring you here at all."
When he returned to the prince's presence the latter asked what was the matter.
"Oh, nothing at all," he murmured quietly.
Nana was standing wrapped in furs, talking to these gentlemen while awaiting her cue. As Count Muffat was coming up in order to peep between two of the wings at the stage, he understood from a sign made him by the stage manager that he was to step softly. Drowsy263 warmth was streaming down from the flies, and in the wings, which were lit by vivid patches of light, only a few people remained, talking in low voices or making off on tiptoe. The gasman was at his post amid an intricate arrangement of cocks; a fireman, leaning against the side lights, was craning forward, trying to catch a glimpse of things, while on his seat, high up, the curtain man was watching with resigned expression, careless of the play, constantly on the alert for the bell to ring him to his duty among the ropes. And amid the close air and the shuffling of feet and the sound of whispering, the voices of the actors on the stage sounded strange, deadened, surprisingly discordant264. Farther off again, above the confused noises of the band, a vast breathing sound was audible. It was the breath of the house, which sometimes swelled265 up till it burst in vague rumors266, in laughter, in applause. Though invisible, the presence of the public could be felt, even in the silences.
"There's something open," said Nana sharply, and with that she tightened267 the folds of her fur cloak. "Do look, Barillot. I bet they've just opened a window. Why, one might catch one's death of cold here!"
Barillot swore that he had closed every window himself but suggested that possibly there were broken panes about. The actors were always complaining of drafts. Through the heavy warmth of that gaslit region blasts of cold air were constantly passing--it was a regular influenza268 trap, as Fontan phrased it.
"I should like to see YOU in a low-cut dress," continued Nana, growing annoyed.
"Hush269!" murmured Bordenave.
On the stage Rose rendered a phrase in her duet so cleverly that the stalls burst into universal applause. Nana was silent at this, and her face grew grave. Meanwhile the count was venturing down a passage when Barillot stopped him and said he would make a discovery there. Indeed, he obtained an oblique6 back view of the scenery and of the wings which had been strengthened, as it were, by a thick layer of old posters. Then he caught sight of a corner of the stage, of the Etna cave hollowed out in a silver mine and of Vulcan's forge in the background. Battens, lowered from above, lit up a sparkling substance which had been laid on with large dabs of the brush. Side lights with red glasses and blue were so placed as to produce the appearance of a fiery brazier, while on the floor of the stage, in the far background, long lines of gaslight had been laid down in order to throw a wall of dark rocks into sharp relief. Hard by on a gentle, "practicable" incline, amid little points of light resembling the illumination lamps scattered about in the grass on the night of a public holiday, old Mme Drouard, who played Juno, was sitting dazed and sleepy, waiting for her cue.
Presently there was a commotion, for Simonne, while listening to a story Clarisse was telling her, cried out:
"My! It's the Tricon!"
It was indeed the Tricon, wearing the same old curls and looking as like a litigious great lady as ever.
When she saw Nana she went straight up to her.
"No," said the latter after some rapid phrases had been exchanged, "not now." The old lady looked grave. Just then Prulliere passed by and shook hands with her, while two little chorus girls stood gazing at her with looks of deep emotion. For a moment she seemed to hesitate. Then she beckoned270 to Simonne, and the rapid exchange of sentences began again.
"Yes," said Simonne at last. "In half an hour."
But as she was going upstairs again to her dressing room, Mme Bron, who was once more going the rounds with letters, presented one to her. Bordenave lowered his voice and furiously reproached the portress for having allowed the Tricon to come in. That woman! And on such an evening of all others! It made him so angry because His Highness was there! Mme Bron, who had been thirty years in the theater, replied quite sourly. How was she to know? she asked. The Tricon did business with all the ladies--M. le Directeur had met her a score of times without making remarks. And while Bordenave was muttering oaths the Tricon stood quietly by, scrutinizing the prince as became a woman who weighs a man at a glance. A smile lit up her yellow face. Presently she paced slowly off through the crowd of deeply deferential271 little women.
"Immediately, eh?" she queried, turning round again to Simonne.
Simonne seemed much worried. The letter was from a young man to whom she had engaged herself for that evening. She gave Mme Bron a scribbled272 note in which were the words, "Impossible tonight, darling--I'm booked." But she was still apprehensive273; the young man might possibly wait for her in spite of everything. As she was not playing in the third act, she had a mind to be off at once and accordingly begged Clarisse to go and see if the man were there. Clarisse was only due on the stage toward the end of the act, and so she went downstairs while Simonne ran up for a minute to their common dressing room.
In Mme Bron's drinking bar downstairs a super, who was charged with the part of Pluto274, was drinking in solitude275 amid the folds of a great red robe diapered with golden flames. The little business plied52 by the good portress must have been progressing finely, for the cellarlike hole under the stairs was wet with emptied heeltaps and water. Clarisse picked up the tunic of Iris, which was dragging over the greasy steps behind her, but she halted prudently276 at the turn in the stairs and was content simply to crane forward and peer into the lodge. She certainly had been quick to scent things out! Just fancy! That idiot La Faloise was still there, sitting on the same old chair between the table and the stove! He had made pretense277 of sneaking278 off in front of Simonne and had returned after her departure. For the matter of that, the lodge was still full of gentlemen who sat there gloved, elegant, submissive and patient as ever. They were all waiting and viewing each other gravely as they waited. On the table there were now only some dirty plates, Mme Bron having recently distributed the last of the bouquets. A single fallen rose was withering279 on the floor in the neighborhood of the black cat, who had lain down and curled herself up while the kittens ran wild races and danced fierce gallops280 among the gentlemen's legs. Clarisse was momentarily inclined to turn La Faloise out. The idiot wasn't fond of animals, and that put the finishing touch to him! He was busy drawing in his legs because the cat was there, and he didn't want to touch her.
"He'll nip you; take care!" said Pluto, who was a joker, as he went upstairs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
After that Clarisse gave up the idea of hauling La Faloise over the coals. She had seen Mme Bron giving the letter to Simonne's young man, and he had gone out to read it under the gas light in the lobby. "Impossible tonight, darling--I'm booked." And with that he had peaceably departed, as one who was doubtless used to the formula. He, at any rate, knew how to conduct himself! Not so the others, the fellows who sat there doggedly281 on Mme Bron's battered282 straw-bottomed chairs under the great glazed283 lantern, where the heat was enough to roast you and there was an unpleasant odor. What a lot of men it must have held! Clarisse went upstairs again in disgust, crossed over behind scenes and nimbly mounted three flights of steps which led to the dressing rooms, in order to bring Simonne her reply.
Downstairs the prince had withdrawn from the rest and stood talking to Nana. He never left her; he stood brooding over her through half-shut eyelids284. Nana did not look at him but, smiling, nodded yes. Suddenly, however, Count Muffat obeyed an overmastering impulse, and leaving Bordenave, who was explaining to him the working of the rollers and windlasses, he came up in order to interrupt their confabulations. Nana lifted her eyes and smiled at him as she smiled at His Highness. But she kept her ears open notwithstanding, for she was waiting for her cue.
"The third act is the shortest, I believe," the prince began saying, for the count's presence embarrassed him.
She did not answer; her whole expression altered; she was suddenly intent on her business. With a rapid movement of the shoulders she had let her furs slip from her, and Mme Jules, standing behind, had caught them in her arms. And then after passing her two hands to her hair as though to make it fast, she went on the stage in all her nudity.
"Hush, hush!" whispered Bordenave.
The count and the prince had been taken by surprise. There was profound silence, and then a deep sigh and the far-off murmur of a multitude became audible. Every evening when Venus entered in her godlike nakedness the same effect was produced. Then Muffat was seized with a desire to see; he put his eye to the peephole. Above and beyond the glowing arc formed by the footlights the dark body of the house seemed full of ruddy vapor285, and against this neutral-tinted background, where row upon row of faces struck a pale, uncertain note, Nana stood forth white and vast, so that the boxes from the balcony to the flies were blotted286 from view. He saw her from behind, noted287 her swelling hips, her outstretched arms, while down on the floor, on the same level as her feet, the prompter's head--an old man's head with a humble, honest face--stood on the edge of the stage, looking as though it had been severed288 from the body. At certain points in her opening number an undulating movement seemed to run from her neck to her waist and to die out in the trailing border of her tunic. When amid a tempest of applause she had sung her last note she bowed, and the gauze floated forth round about her limbs, and her hair swept over her waist as she bent sharply backward. And seeing her thus, as with bending form and with exaggerated hips she came backing toward the count's peephole, he stood upright again, and his face was very white. The stage had disappeared, and he now saw only the reverse side of the scenery with its display of old posters pasted up in every direction. On the practicable slope, among the lines of gas jets, the whole of Olympus had rejoined the dozing289 Mme Drouard. They were waiting for the close of the act. Bosc and Fontan sat on the floor with their knees drawn up to their chins, and Prulliere stretched himself and yawned before going on. Everybody was worn out; their eyes were red, and they were longing290 to go home to sleep.
Just then Fauchery, who had been prowling about on the O.P. side ever since Bordenave had forbidden him the other, came and buttonholed the count in order to keep himself in countenance291 and offered at the same time to show him the dressing rooms. An increasing sense of languor292 had left Muffat without any power of resistance, and after looking round for the Marquis de Chouard, who had disappeared, he ended by following the journalist. He experienced a mingled feeling of relief and anxiety as he left the wings whence he had been listening to Nana's songs.
Fauchery had already preceded him up the staircase, which was closed on the first and second floors by low-paneled doors. It was one of those stairways which you find in miserable293 tenements294. Count Muffat had seen many such during his rounds as member of the Benevolent295 Organization. It was bare and dilapidated: there was a wash of yellow paint on its walls; its steps had been worn by the incessant296 passage of feet, and its iron balustrade had grown smooth under the friction297 of many hands. On a level with the floor on every stairhead there was a low window which resembled a deep, square venthole, while in lanterns fastened to the walls flaring gas jets crudely illuminatcd the surrounding squalor and gave out a glowing heat which, as it mounted up the narrow stairwell, grew ever more intense.
When he reached the foot of the stairs the count once more felt the hot breath upon his neck and shoulders. As of old it was laden298 with the odor of women, wafted299 amid floods of light and sound from the dressing rooms above, and now with every upward step he took the musky scent of powders and the tart117 perfume of toilet vinegars heated and bewildered him more and more. On the first floor two corridors ran backward, branching sharply off and presenting a set of doors to view which were painted yellow and numbered with great white numerals in such a way as to suggest a hotel with a bad reputation. The tiles on the floor had been many of them unbedded, and the old house being in a state of subsidence, they stuck up like hummocks300. The count dashed recklessly forward, glanced through a half-open door and saw a very dirty room which resembled a barber's shop in a poor part of the town. In was furnished with two chairs, a mirror and a small table containing a drawer which had been blackened by the grease from brushes and combs. A great perspiring301 fellow with smoking shoulders was changing his linen there, while in a similar room next door a woman was drawing on her gloves preparatory to departure. Her hair was damp and out of curl, as though she had just had a bath. But Fauchery began calling the count, and the latter was rushing up without delay when a furious "damn!" burst from the corridor on the right. Mathilde, a little drab of a miss, had just broken her washhand basin, the soapy water from which was flowing out to the stairhead. A dressing room door banged noisily. Two women in their stays skipped across the passage, and another, with the hem50 of her shift in her mouth, appeared and immediately vanished from view. Then followed a sound of laughter, a dispute, the snatch of a song which was suddenly broken off short. All along the passage naked gleams, sudden visions of white skin and wan42 underlinen were observable through chinks in doorways302. Two girls were making very merry, showing each other their birthmarks. One of them, a very young girl, almost a child, had drawn her skirts up over her knees in order to sew up a rent in her drawers, and the dressers, catching304 sight of the two men, drew some curtains half to for decency's sake. The wild stampede which follows the end of a play had already begun, the grand removal of white paint and rouge, the reassumption amid clouds of rice powder of ordinary attire. The strange animal scent came in whiffs of redoubled intensity305 through the lines of banging doors. On the third story Muffat abandoned himself to the feeling of intoxication which was overpowering him. For the chorus girls' dressing room was there, and you saw a crowd of twenty women and a wild display of soaps and flasks of lavender water. The place resembled the common room in a slum lodging306 house. As he passed by he heard fierce sounds of washing behind a closed door and a perfect storm raging in a washhand basin. And as he was mounting up to the topmost story of all, curiosity led him to risk one more little peep through an open loophole. The room was empty, and under the flare of the gas a solitary chamber201 pot stood forgotten among a heap of petticoats trailing on the floor. This room afforded him his ultimate impression. Upstairs on the fourth floor he was well-nigh suffocated307. All the scents, all the blasts of heat, had found their goal there. The yellow ceiling looked as if it had been baked, and a lamp burned amid fumes of russet-colored fog. For some seconds he leaned upon the iron balustrade which felt warm and damp and well-nigh human to the touch. And he shut his eyes and drew a long breath and drank in the sexual atmosphere of the place. Hitherto he had been utterly308 ignorant of it, but now it beat full in his face.
"Do come here," shouted Fauchery, who had vanished some moments ago. "You're being asked for."
At the end of the corridor was the dressing room belonging to Clarisse and Simonne. It was a long, ill-built room under the roof with a garret ceiling and sloping walls. The light penetrated309 to it from two deep-set openings high up in the wall, but at that hour of the night the dressing room was lit by flaring gas. It was papered with a paper at seven sous a roll with a pattern of roses twining over green trelliswork. Two boards, placed near one another and covered with oilcloth, did duty for dressing tables. They were black with spilled water, and underneath310 them was a fine medley311 of dinted zinc312 jugs313, slop pails and coarse yellow earthenware314 crocks. There was an array of fancy articles in the room--a battered, soiled and well-worn array of chipped basins, of toothless combs, of all those manifold untidy trifles which, in their hurry and carelessness, two women will leave scattered about when they undress and wash together amid purely315 temporary surroundings, the dirty aspect of which has ceased to concern them.
"Do come here," Fauchery repeated with the good-humored familiarity which men adopt among their fallen sisters. "Clarisse is wanting to kiss you."
Muffat entered the room at last. But what was his surprise when he found the Marquis de Chouard snugly316 enscounced on a chair between the two dressing tables! The marquis had withdrawn thither318 some time ago. He was spreading his feet apart because a pail was leaking and letting a whitish flood spread over the floor. He was visibly much at his ease, as became a man who knew all the snug317 corners, and had grown quite merry in the close dressing room, where people might have been bathing, and amid those quietly immodest feminine surroundings which the uncleanness of the little place rendered at once natural and poignant319.
"D'you go with the old boy?" Simonne asked Clarisse in a whisper.
"Rather!" replied the latter aloud.
The dresser, a very ugly and extremely familiar young girl, who was helping320 Simonne into her coat, positively321 writhed322 with laughter. The three pushed each other and babbled323 little phrases which redoubled their merriment.
"Come, Clarisse, kiss the gentleman," said Fauchery. "You know, he's got the rhino324."
And turning to the count:
"You'll see, she's very nice! She's going to kiss you!"
But Clarisse was disgusted by the men. She spoke in violent terms of the dirty lot waiting at the porter's lodge down below. Besides, he was in a hurry to go downstairs again; they were making her miss her last scene. Then as Fauchery blocked up the doorway303, she gave Muffat a couple of kisses on the whiskers, remarking as she did so:
"It's not for you, at any rate! It's for that nuisance Fauchery!"
And with that she darted325 off, and the count remained much embarrassed in his father-in-law's presence. The blood had rushed to his face. In Nana's dressing room, amid all the luxury of hangings and mirrors, he had not experienced the sharp physical sensation which the shameful326 wretchedness of that sorry garret excited within him, redolent as it was of these two girls' self-abandonment. Meanwhile the marquis had hurried in the rear of Simonne, who was making off at the top of her pace, and he kept whispering in her ear while she shook her head in token of refusal. Fauchery followed them, laughing. And with that the count found himself alone with the dresser, who was washing out the basins. Accordingly he took his departure, too, his legs almost failing under him. Once more he put up flights of half-dressed women and caused doors to bang as he advanced. But amid the disorderly, disbanded troops of girls to be found on each of the four stories, he was only distinctly aware of a cat, a great tortoise-shell cat, which went gliding327 upstairs through the ovenlike place where the air was poisoned with musk156, rubbing its back against the banisters and keeping its tail exceedingly erect328.
"Yes, to be sure!" said a woman hoarsely329. "I thought they'd keep us back tonight! What a nuisance they are with their calls!"
The end had come; the curtain had just fallen. There was a veritable stampede on the staircase--its walls rang with exclamations330, and everyone was in a savage94 hurry to dress and be off. As Count Muffat came down the last step or two he saw Nana and the prince passing slowly along the passage. The young woman halted and lowered her voice as she said with a smile:
"All right then--by and by!"
The prince returned to the stage, where Bordenave was awaiting him. And left alone with Nana, Muffat gave way to an impulse of anger and desire. He ran up behind her and, as she was on the point of entering her dressing room, imprinted331 a rough kiss on her neck among little golden hairs curling low down between her shoulders. It was as though he had returned the kiss that had been given him upstairs. Nana was in a fury; she lifted her hand, but when she recognized the count she smiled.
"Oh, you frightened me," she said simply.
And her smile was adorable in its embarrassment and submissiveness, as though she had despaired of this kiss and were happy to have received it. But she could do nothing for him either that evening or the day after. It was a case of waiting. Nay, even if it had been in her power she would still have let herself be desired. Her glance said as much. At length she continued:
"I'm a landowner, you know. Yes, I'm buying a country house near Orleans, in a part of the world to which you sometimes betake yourself. Baby told me you did--little Georges Hugon, I mean. You know him? So come and see me down there."
The count was a shy man, and the thought of his roughness had frightened him; he was ashamed of what he had done and he bowed ceremoniously, promising332 at the same time to take advantage of her invitation. Then he walked off as one who dreams.
He was rejoining the prince when, passing in front of the foyer, he heard Satin screaming out:
"Oh, the dirty old thing! Just you bloody333 well leave me alone!"
It was the Marquis de Chouard who was tumbling down over Satin. The girl had decidedly had enough of the fashionable world! Nana had certainly introduced her to Bordenave, but the necessity of standing with sealed lips for fear of allowing some awkward phrase to escape her had been too much for her feelings, and now she was anxious to regain335 her freedom, the more so as she had run against an old flame of hers in the wings. This was the super, to whom the task of impersonating Pluto had been entrusted336, a pastry337 cook, who had already treated her to a whole week of love and flagellation. She was waiting for him, much irritated at the things the marquis was saying to her, as though she were one of those theatrical ladies! And so at last she assumed a highly respectable expression and jerked out this phrase:
"My husband's coming! You'll see."
Meanwhile the worn-looking artistes were dropping off one after the other in their outdoor coats. Groups of men and women were coming down the little winding staircase, and the outlines of battered hats and worn-out shawls were visible in the shadows. They looked colorless and unlovely, as became poor play actors who have got rid of their paint. On the stage, where the side lights and battens were being extinguished, the prince was listening to an anecdote338 Bordenave was telling him. He was waiting for Nana, and when at length she made her appearance the stage was dark, and the fireman on duty was finishing his round, lantern in hand. Bordenave, in order to save His Highness going about by the Passage des Panoramas339, had made them open the corridor which led from the porter's lodge to the entrance hall of the theater. Along this narrow alley340 little women were racing341 pell-mell, for they were delighted to escape from the men who were waiting for them in the other passage. They went jostling and elbowing along, casting apprehensive glances behind them and only breathing freely when they got outside. Fontan, Bosc and Prulliere, on the other hand, retired342 at a leisurely343 pace, joking at the figure cut by the serious, paying admirers who were striding up and down the Galerie des Varietes at a time when the little dears were escaping along the boulevard with the men of their hearts. But Clarisse was especially sly. She had her suspicions about La Faloise, and, as a matter of fact, he was still in his place in the lodge among the gentlemen obstinately344 waiting on Mme Bron's chairs. They all stretched forward, and with that she passed brazenly345 by in the wake of a friend. The gentlemen were blinking in bewilderment over the wild whirl of petticoats eddying346 at the foot of the narrow stairs. It made them desperate to think they had waited so long, only to see them all flying away like this without being able to recognize a single one. The litter of little black cats were sleeping on the oilcloth, nestled against their mother's belly347, and the latter was stretching her paws out in a state of beatitude while the big tortoise-shell cat sat at the other end of the table, her tail stretched out behind her and her yellow eyes solemnly following the flight of the women.
"If His Highness will be good enough to come this way," said Bordenave at the bottom of the stairs, and he pointed to the passage.
Some chorus girls were still crowding along it. The prince began following Nana while Muffat and the marquis walked behind.
It was a long, narrow passage lying between the theater and the house next door, a kind of contracted by-lane which had been covered with a sloping glass roof. Damp oozed348 from the walls, and the footfall sounded as hollow on the tiled floor as in an underground vault. It was crowded with the kind of rubbish usually found in a garret. There was a workbench on which the porter was wont to plane such parts of the scenery as required it, besides a pile of wooden barriers which at night were placed at the doors of the theater for the purpose of regulating the incoming stream of people. Nana had to pick up her dress as she passed a hydrant which, through having
been carelessly turned off, was flooding the tiles underfoot. In the entrance hall the company bowed and said good-by. And when Bordenave was alone he summed up his opinion of the prince in a shrug349 of eminently350 philosophic351 disdain352.
"He's a bit of a duffer all the same," he said to Fauchery without entering on further explanations, and with that Rose Mignon carried the journalist off with her husband in order to effect a reconciliation353 between them at home.
Muffat was left alone on the sidewalk. His Highness had handed Nana quietly into his carriage, and the marquis had slipped off after Satin and her super. In his excitement he was content to follow this vicious pair in vague hopes of some stray favor being granted him. Then with brain on fire Muffat decided334 to walk home. The struggle within him had wholly ceased. The ideas and beliefs of the last forty years were being drowned in a flood of new life. While he was passing along the boulevards the roll of the last carriages deafened354 him with the name of Nana; the gaslights set nude limbs dancing before his eyes--the nude limbs, the lithe355 arms, the white shoulders, of Nana. And he felt that he was hers utterly: he would have abjured356 everything, sold everything, to possess her for a single hour that very night. Youth, a lustful357 puberty of early manhood, was stirring within him at last, flaming up suddenly in the chaste358 heart of the Catholic and amid the dignified traditions of middle age.
游艺剧院里，正在上演《金发爱神》，这出戏现在已经演到第三十四场了。第一幕刚刚演完。在演员休息室里，扮演小洗衣妇的西蒙娜，站在一面镜子前，这面镜子是安装在一张蜗形脚桌子上面的。桌子两边，均有一扇角门，斜对着通往演员化妆室的走廊。她独身一人在端详自己，用一只手指在眼睛下轻轻涂抹，竭力把自己装扮得更好一些。镜子两边的煤气灯，发出强烈的光芒，把她身上照得暖和和的。
“他来了吗？”普律利埃尔问道，他刚刚走进来，穿着瑞士海军上将制服，身佩一把军刀，脚穿一双大皮靴，头顶上插着一大撮翎毛。
“谁呀！”西蒙娜问道，身子一动也不动，只是对着镜子笑，注视着自己的嘴唇。
“王子。”
“我不知道，我就下楼……啊！他会来的。他不是每天都来嘛！”
普律利埃尔走到桌子对面的壁炉旁边，壁炉里燃着焦炭；壁炉两边各有一盏煤气灯，发出耀眼夺目的光芒。他抬头看看左边的时钟和右边的晴雨计，上面都饰有镀金的狮身人面像，时钟和晴雨计都是拿破仑时代的款式。接着，他往一张很大的扶手椅里一躺，椅子上的绿绒套历经四代演员的使用，已经发黄了。他坐在那里，一动也不动，眼睛模模糊糊，那副疲乏而又顺从的样子，一看就知道他是一个老演员，正在等待上场。
博斯克老头也来了。他拖着脚步，咳嗽着，身穿一件黄色旧外套，外套的一个角从肩上滑下来，露出扮演达戈贝尔特王穿的饰金银箔片的上衣。他把王冠往钢琴上一搁，一声没吭，怏怏不悦地跺了一会脚，不过，样子还像是诚实人。他的双手有些颤抖，这是饮酒后的最初征兆。而他那长长的银须，却给那副酒鬼的红红的面孔上，增添了可尊敬的外貌。在寂静中，骤然下起暴雨，雨点打在朝向庭院的那扇方形大窗户的玻璃上，他做了一个厌烦的手势。
“这鬼天气！”他嘟囔道。
西蒙娜和普律利埃尔没有动。四五幅风景画、一幅演员韦尔内的肖像被煤气灯熏黄了。一根柱子上雕刻着波蒂埃的半身像，他是当年游艺剧院的光荣，现在一双眼睛茫然注视着。这时外边传来哇啦哇啦的说话声。原来是丰唐，他穿着第二幕上场的戏装，扮演一个漂亮公子，浑身上下都是黄色，连手套也是黄的。
“喂！”他手舞足蹈地喊着，“你们不知道吧？今天是我的圣名瞻礼日。”
“是吗！”西蒙娜问道，一边笑着走过去，好像被他的大鼻子和滑稽的大嘴巴吸引住了，“你的圣名叫阿喀琉斯①吧？”
①希腊神话中密耳弥多涅人国王珀琉斯和海中仙女忒提斯的儿子。阿喀琉斯出生后，忒提斯为使他长生不老，每到夜间把他放在天火里，还捏住他的脚踵，把他倒浸在斯提克斯河（冥河）中，使他刀箭不入，因脚踵未沾到河水，在特洛伊战争中，脚踵中箭而身亡。
“一点不错！……我要让人告诉布龙太太，让她在第二幕演完时，拿香槟酒上来。”
远处响起了铃声。悠长的声音变得越来越低，然后又响起来。当铃声停止时，听见一个人在楼梯上跑上跑下叫喊着，最后喊声消失在走廊里：“第二幕上场喽！……第二幕上场喽！……”这喊声越来越近，一个面色苍白、矮个头男人走过演员休息室的每个门口，拉高尖尖的嗓门嚷道：“第二幕上场喽！”
“真棒！香槟酒！”普律利埃尔说道，他似乎没听到那叫喊的声音，“你好吧！”
“我要是你，我就叫人送咖啡来。”博斯克老头慢吞吞说道，他坐在一条绿绒软垫长凳上，头倚在墙上。
西蒙娜说应当让布龙太太收小费。她拍着手，显出兴高采烈的样子，把目光死命盯着丰唐。丰唐戴着山羊面具，眼睛、鼻子、嘴巴动个不停。
“啊！这个丰唐！”她喃喃说道，“只有他才能演这个角色，只有他才能演这个角色！”
演员休息室的两扇门朝向走廊，一直敞开着，走廊直通后台。发黄的墙壁被一盏看不见的煤气灯照得通亮，墙上飞快地闪动着一个个人影，有身穿戏装的男人，有身着披肩的半裸体女人，还有在第二幕中演群众角色的全体演员，以及光顾“黑球咖啡馆”的低级舞场的那伙人。在走廊的一头，可以听见演员踏着五级木板梯级下楼去舞台的声音。高个儿克拉利瑟跑过时，西蒙娜叫她，她回答说，她马上就回来。她果然马上就回来了，她穿着虹神的薄薄紧身上衣，披着虹神的披肩，冷得浑身直打哆嗦。
“哎呀！”她说道，“这里不暖和，我把毛皮大衣留在化妆室里了！”
随后，她站到壁炉前面去烤腿，拖到大腿的紧身上衣被火光映成玫瑰色，闪闪发光。
“王子来了。”她又说了一句。
“啊！”其他人都惊奇地叫起来。
“是啊，我刚才跑过去就是为了这事，我想去看一看……他坐在右首台口第一个包厢里，就是星期四坐的那个包厢。嗯？一周内他第三次来看戏了。这个娜娜真走运……我还打过赌，说他不会再来了呢。”
西蒙娜刚开口说话，她的声音就被演员休息室旁边发出的又一阵声音盖下去了。催场员拉高嗓门在走廊里大声叫道：
“敲过开场锣啦！”
“来过三次啦，真够呛，”西蒙娜刚等到能开口时说道，“你们知道，他不肯到她家里去，而要把她带到自己家里。听说这要让他花不小代价呢。”
“当然罗！人家出去价钱总要高一些嘛！”普律利埃尔怪声怪气地说着，一边站起来，往镜子里看了一眼，自我欣赏一下被包厢里的观众宠爱的美男子的仪表。
“敲过锣了！敲过锣了！”催场员不停喊着，喊声渐渐减弱，他跑遍了每层楼，每道走廊。
丰唐知道王子同娜娜第一次接触的情况，于是，他就把详细情况告诉了两个女人。她俩紧紧靠在他的身边，当他弯着身子讲到一些细节时，她们不禁哈哈大笑起来。博斯克老头一动也不动，露出一副无动于衷的样子。他对这类事情毫无兴趣。他在抚摸着一只红色肥猫，那猫静静地蜷缩在一张长椅子上。抚摸到后来，他竟然把它抱在怀里，他那善良、温存的面容，颇像一个年老糊涂的国王。猫把背拱得高高的，接着嗅了好一阵子他长长的白胡子，大概厌恶白胡子上的胶水味，又回到长椅子上，把身子缩成一团睡觉了。博斯克仍然是那副严肃而沉思的样子。
“喝点香槟酒倒没关系，我要是你，我要喝咖啡馆里的香槟酒，那里的香槟酒好一些。”丰唐刚讲完故事，博斯克突然对他说。
“开场啦！”催场员拖着破锣般的嗓子叫道，“开场啦！开场啦！”
叫声停止了，这时响起急促的脚步声，走廊的门骤然打开了，传来了一阵音乐声和在远处发出的嘈杂声。于是，有人把门一关，塞垫料的门扉发出一声沉闷的声音。
一片宁静又笼罩了演员休息室，寂静得好像离掌声四起的演出厅足有百里之遥。西蒙娜和克拉利瑟还在谈论娜娜。娜娜总是慢吞吞的！昨天她又误了上场。这时有一个身材高大的姑娘伸头向屋里张望，她们立刻住口了，接着，她发觉自己找错了房间，就向走廊的另一头跑去。她是萨丹，头戴帽子，脸上蒙着面纱，装扮成一副来找人的样子。“一个道地的婊子。”普律利埃尔咕哝道，一年来，他在游艺咖啡馆经常见到她。于是西蒙娜对大家说，娜娜是怎样认出她昔日寄宿学校的同学萨丹的，怎样对她着了迷，又怎样缠住博尔德纳夫，要求他把自己推上舞台。
“喂，晚上好！”丰唐一边说，一边同刚进来的米尼翁和福什利握手。
博斯克老头也伸出手来同他们握手，而两个女人则拥抱了米尼翁。
“今晚观众看得起劲吧？”福什利问道。
“啊！好极了！”普律利埃尔回答，“观众看得着迷喽！”
“喂！孩子们，”米尼翁提醒道，“轮到你们上场啦！”
他们知道了，不过还要等一会儿。他们要到第四场才上场呢。只有博斯克本能地站远来，他是老演员，演戏很卖力，他准备上场。就在这时候，催场员来到了门口。
“博斯克先生！西蒙娜小姐！”他叫道。
西蒙娜匆匆把一件皮袄往肩上一披，就出去了。博斯克不慌不忙地去找他的王冠，然后往前额上一戴，再用手一拍。随后，他穿着拖到地上的长袍，步履蹒跚地走了，嘴里嘀咕着，一副不高兴的样子，像被人打扰了似的。
“你最近的那篇文章写得很好，”丰唐对福什利说道，“不过，你为什么说喜剧演员都爱虚荣呢？”
“是啊，亲爱的，你为什么这样说呢？”米尼翁嚷道，他用粗大的手往记者瘦削的肩上一拍，他被拍得腰都弯了。
普律利埃尔和克拉利瑟几乎失声大笑起来。一个时期以来，全体演员对在后台发生的滑稽事情很感兴趣。米尼翁对他妻子的朝三暮四很恼火，看到福什利带给他们夫妻的仅仅是一些引起争论的广告性小文章，于是他便想出一种方法来进行报复，那就是对他表示过分亲热。每天晚上，他在台上碰到福什利时，就对他拍拍打打，好像亲热得很，而福什利在米尼翁这个巨人旁边，则显得很孱弱，为了不跟罗丝的丈夫闹翻脸，他不得不强笑忍受着。
“啊！好家伙，你侮辱了丰唐，”米尼翁跟他开玩笑，说道，“当心！一，二，嘭！打在胸口上了！”
他做了一个击剑时冲刺的动作，对他这样一击，福什利脸色变得苍白，一时说不出话来。克拉利瑟向其他人眨眨眼睛，示意罗丝·米尼翁正站在演员休息室门口。罗丝已经看到了刚才的情景。她径直向新闻记者走去，仿佛没有看见她的丈夫似的；她身穿娃娃服装，裸露着双臂，踮起脚尖，把额头送上去让记者亲吻，如同孩子撅嘴撒娇一样。
“晚安，宝贝。”福什利说道，亲切地吻了她一下。
这是对福什利的痛苦的补偿。米尼翁对这个吻装着没看见。因为在剧院里，大家都可以吻他的老婆。但是，他笑了一下，向新闻记者瞟了一眼；罗丝这样同他对着干，福什利肯定还要吃大亏的。
朝向走廊的带软垫的门开了一下，又关上了，一阵暴风雨般的掌声一直传到演员休息室里。西蒙娜演完后走了进来。
“哦！博斯克老头演得真棒！”她叫道，“王子简直笑弯了腰，他同其他人一齐鼓掌，好像他是被雇来捧场似的。喂！你认识坐在台口包厢里王子旁边的那个高个子先生吗？他真是个美男子，神态多么庄重，颊髯美极了。”
“他是缪法伯爵，”福什利回答道，“我知道前天王子在皇后那里邀请他今晚吃晚饭……晚饭后，他带他出来散散心。”
“哦！他原来就是缪法伯爵，咱俩认识他的岳父，不是吗？他叫奥古斯特？”罗丝对米尼翁说，“你知道，他就是舒阿尔侯爵，我不是到他家里唱过歌吗？……恰巧他也在这里看戏，我看见他了，他坐在包厢的后排。他是上了年纪的人了……”
普律利埃尔刚刚插上他那一大撮翎毛，这时转过头来叫她：
“喂！罗丝，该我们上场喽！”
她跟丈夫的话还未说完，就跟随他走了。这时，剧院门房布龙太太走到门口，手里捧着一大束花。西蒙娜开玩笑说，这束花是不是送给她的；但是女门房没有吭声，用下巴指指走廊尽头娜娜的化妆室。这个娜娜，简直被埋在花里了。接着，布龙太太走回来，交给克拉利瑟一封信，她随口轻轻骂了一声。又是拉法卢瓦兹这个讨厌鬼写来的！他这个男人，就是缠住她不放！当她知道他还在门房那儿等她时，她大嚷道：
“告诉他我演完这一幕就下来……我要叫他吃我的耳光。”
丰唐匆匆跑过来，连声说道：
“布龙太太，听我说……听清楚啦，布龙太太……幕间休息时，拿六瓶香槟酒来。”
催场员又气喘吁吁地来了，他上气不接下气地说：“大家都上场啦！……丰唐先生，轮到你上场喽！快点！快点！”
“知道喽，知道喽，我就去，巴里约老爹。”丰唐惊慌失措地回答着。
随后，他跑上去追着布龙太太，又叮嘱一遍：
“嗯？！说定了，六瓶香槟酒，幕间休息时拿来，送到演员休息室……今天是我的圣名瞻礼日，由我付钱。”
只听裙子一阵窸窣响，西蒙娜和克拉利瑟走了。屋子里又寂静下来。当朝向走廊的门发出一声闷响关上后，又下起阵雨来，雨滴打在窗户的玻璃上，发出啪啪的响声，打破了演员休息室的一片沉静。巴里约这个面色苍白的矮老头，在剧院里跑龙套已经三十年了，他随便地走近米尼翁，把打开的鼻烟盒递给他。他总是在楼梯上和化妆室的走廊里奔走如梭，他献上鼻烟盒，让人吸吸鼻烟，这样他就好休息片刻。还有娜娜太太棗他是这样称呼她的，他还没有叫她呢，她是一贯自由放任，我行我素，对处罚毫不在乎，总是想误场就误场。他去叫她时却停下了脚步，他很惊讶，喃喃地说：
“瞧！她准备上场啦，她出来了……她大概知道王子来了。”
娜娜果真出现在走廊里，她身穿女鱼贩子服装，胳膊、面孔白皙，眼睛下面抹了两块玫瑰红斑。她没有进来，只向米尼翁和福什利点点头。
“你们好，你们都好吧？”
只有米尼翁去握了她伸过来的手。随后，娜娜继续神态庄重地往前走，女服装员一步不离地跟在她后面，不时弯下身子，抹平她裙子上的皱褶，萨丹殿后，紧跟在服装员的后面；她竭力装出一副情绪正常的样子，实际上她心里烦恼透了。
“斯泰内呢？”米尼翁突然问道。
“斯泰内先生昨天到卢瓦雷去了，”巴里约正要回到舞台上去时，说道，“我想他要在那儿买一座乡间别墅。”
“啊！对了，我知道，是为娜娜买的。”
米尼翁脸色变得阴沉。这个斯泰内，曾经许愿给罗丝买座公馆！过去的事还说它干啥！算了，犯不着跟任何人闹别扭，另找机会就是了。米尼翁心绪不宁，但仍然露出高傲的样子，在壁炉和蜗形脚桌子之间踱来踱去。现在演员休息室里只剩下他和福什利两人了。新闻记者疲惫不堪，深深躺在一张大扶手椅里。他静静地呆在那儿，眼皮半睁半闭，米尼翁踱步走过他面前时，总要瞟他一眼。每当只有他们两人在一起时，米尼翁压根儿不想对他拍拍打打；既然没有一个人看到这个场面，拍拍打打有什么意思呢？由他自己扮演嘲弄人的丈夫这种角色，仅仅为了给自己取乐，实在毫无意思。福什利可以这样休息几分钟，他很高兴。他懒洋洋地把脚伸到炉火前，眼睛凝望上方，从晴雨表一直望到挂钟。米尼翁踱步时，突然在波蒂埃的半身像前停下脚步，心不在焉地看着那尊半身像，然后转过身，回到窗户前面，窗外院子里一块地方黑洞洞的。雨已停了，屋里一片沉静，炭火和煤气灯的火焰般的光芒散发出大量热量，使屋里更加寂静了。听不到后台一点声音。楼梯上和各条走廊里死一般地沉静。这是一幕戏接近尾声时的令人窒息的寂静，这时全体演员在台上用震耳欲聋的声音进行最后的演唱，阒无一人的演员休息室在一片令人窒息的嗡嗡声中沉睡了。
“啊，这些家伙！”突然，博尔德纳夫用嘶哑的嗓子叫道。
他刚来到，便破口大骂两个女群众演员，因为她们装傻，差点跌在舞台上。当他瞥见米尼翁和福什利时，便跟他俩打招呼，告诉他们王子刚才表示，在幕间休息时，他要到娜娜的化妆室来，向她表示祝贺。但是，就在他带着米尼翁和福什利走向舞台时，舞台监督走了过来。
“你去狠狠地惩罚一下费尔南德和玛丽亚这两个废物！”
博尔德纳夫气急败坏地说道。
随后，他平静下来，竭力摆出一副高贵家长的尊严架势，他用手帕揩揩脸，接着说道：
“我去迎接王子殿下。”
在经久不息的雷鸣般的掌声中，幕布徐徐降落下来，演员们随即乱哄哄地退场。舞台上的光线昏昏暗暗，因为台口的成排脚灯已经熄灭了。主要演员和群众演员仓促回到他们的化妆室里，置景工人们火速撤走布景。然而，西蒙娜和克拉利瑟仍然滞留在舞台的后边，在悄声谈话。刚才演出时，她们利用念台词中间的空隙时间，商定了一件事情。克拉利瑟经过一番周密考虑，不想去见拉法卢瓦兹，这个人下不了决心放弃她，去与加加要好。西蒙娜将去向他解释，一个男人不能这样缠住一个女人不放。最后，她答应去转达克拉利瑟拜托的事。
于是，西蒙娜还没有脱下演喜歌剧中的洗衣妇的戏服，就披了件皮袄，踏上那道狭窄的旋转楼梯，这道楼梯的梯级上满是油垢，两边的墙壁很潮湿，楼梯直通到门房室。这个房间位于供演员上下的楼梯与通往经理室的楼梯之间，左右两边是两大块玻璃隔板，看上去颇像一只硕大的透明灯笼，里边点着两盏闪闪发光的煤气灯。房间的一只架子上，堆满了信件和报纸，桌子上放着几束等人来取的鲜花，旁边是一些忘记拿走的脏盘子，还有一件女门房正在锁补扣眼的旧女短上衣。在这间杂乱无章的楼梯下的小房间的中间，几位上流社会的先生戴着手套，衣冠整齐，坐在四张旧草垫椅子上，个个露出一副漫不经心、听其自然的样子。每当布龙太太带着答复从舞台上下来，他们便迅速转过头来看看。这一次她刚把一封信交给一个年轻人，他迅即走到前厅里，在煤气灯光下，匆匆忙忙打开信，霎时脸色微微变白。他看到信里仍然是那句话，他在这个地方这样的信不知收到过多少次了：“今天晚上不行，亲爱的，我有事。”拉法卢瓦兹坐在里边的一张椅子上，椅子在桌子和炉子中间；他似乎决心夜里呆在那儿不走了，然而，他有些局促不安，他把两条腿缩回来，因为一窝小黑猫在他身边拼命钻来钻去，那只老母猫则坐在他的后边，用它的黄眼睛盯着他看。
“哟！是你呀，西蒙娜小姐，你有什么事吗？”女门房问道。
西蒙娜请她把拉法卢瓦兹叫出来。但是，布龙太太不能马上为她效劳，因为她在楼梯口，安放了一长溜柜子，开了一个小酒吧，幕间休息时，那些群众演员都来这儿喝酒。这时就有五六个大汉，还穿着“黑球咖啡馆”化装舞会里穿的服装，他们渴得要命，在那里匆匆忙忙喝酒，布龙太太忙得晕头转向。壁柜里点着一盏煤气灯，一张锡面桌子和几块搁板，搁板上面摆着已开了盖子的酒瓶。只要把这个脏乎乎的房间的门一打开，就有一股浓浓的酒味飘出来，里面还掺杂着门房室里的残羹剩菜的怪味和桌子上鲜花的扑鼻香味。
“那么，”女门房接待完群众演员后，说道，“你要找的是那边那个棕色头发的矮个子先生吗？”
“不是他，别叫错人！”西蒙娜说道，“是坐在炉子旁边的那个瘦子，你的母猫正在闻他的裤子呢。”
布龙太太听清楚后就把拉法卢瓦兹带到前厅里，而另外几位先生只好无可奈何地继续等待。那几个穿戏服的群众演员正沿着楼梯边走边喝酒，他们互相打闹，用醉汉的嘶哑嗓门说说笑笑。
在楼上的舞台上，博尔德纳夫正在对布景工人大发雷霆，他们还未把布景撤完。他们是故意这样做的，好在王子来时，让一个背景屏碰到他的头上。
“往上拉！往上拉！”工头大声嚷道。
背景幕布终于拉上去了，舞台上空空的。米尼翁一直盯住福什利，又抓住机会对他又推又撞。他用粗壮的胳膊把他挟得紧紧的，大声嚷道：
“当心啊！这根吊杆差点把你砸碎喽。”
接着，他把福什利抱起来，摇来摇去，然后把他放到地上。福什利见布景工们捧腹大笑，气得脸色发白；他的嘴唇颤抖着，他刚要翻脸时，米尼翁又装出一副好人的样子，亲热地拍着他的肩膀，差点把他拍成二截，他说道：
“我可关心你的健康啊！……唉呀！你要有个三长两短，我也完啦。”
这时只听一阵低语声：“王子！王子！”于是，每个人都把目光转向大厅的小门口。但是大伙看见的只是博尔德纳夫的圆滚滚的肩背和他那屠夫般的脖子。他频频点头哈腰，弯腰时，背上的肉鼓得高高的。随后，王子出现了。他身材高大，身体健壮，胡子金黄，皮肤白里透红，颇具风流、健壮公子哥儿的高雅气派。他的四肢健壮发达，从他那合身的礼服上可以看出来。他身后跟着缪法伯爵和德·舒阿尔侯爵。剧院的这块地方光线暗淡，这几个人被大批竞相观看王子者的晃动的影子淹没了。面对这位王后之子，未来的王位继承人，博尔德纳夫讲话时用耍狗熊人的语调，装得很激动，声音颤颤抖抖。他反复说道：
“请殿下跟我来……请殿下走这边……请殿下当心……”
王子从容不迫，兴致甚浓，不时停下脚步，观看布景工人干活。他们刚把布景照明灯放下来，这排煤气灯外面都罩着铁丝网，吊在高处时可向舞台洒下一大片亮光。缪法从未到过戏院后台，因此特别感到惊奇，又有点不自在，心里几分踌躇又几分害怕。他抬头仰望舞台上空，上面还有一些布景照明灯，灯头都捻小了，宛如一群淡蓝色的小星星在闪烁，上面的一切都显得杂乱无章，布景格架、粗细不一的电线、吊梁、升在上空的幕布乱糟糟地挂在舞台上面，幕布像晾晒着的大床单。
“放下！”布景工头突然叫道。
王子不得不提醒伯爵注意。一块幕布正慢慢落下来。他们又忙着布置第三幕布景，即埃特纳火山的一个山洞。一些人把一根根柱子插在布景滑槽里，另一些人则去把放在舞台几面墙边的框架拿过来，然后用粗绳子绑在柱子上。为了使火神的炽热的炼铁炉发出火光，一个照明工人安置了一个灯具撑架，他点燃了撑架上的罩着红玻璃的灯头。那里是一片混乱景象，但这只是表面上的，在那里连最细微的动作都是事先安排好的；然而，在这片忙乱之中，那个提台词的人却迈着细步踱来踱去，活动一下腿脚。
“殿下使我受宠若惊，”博尔德纳夫说道，并不停地点头哈腰，“我们的剧院不算大，但是凡是我们能做到的我们尽力做到……现在，请殿下跟我来……”
缪法伯爵已经向通演员化妆室的走廊走去。舞台的坡度相当大，不禁使他大吃一惊，但他更担心的是他脚下的那块地，他觉得它是活动的。从布景滑槽的槽缝望下去，可以看见下面燃着的煤气灯，下面是一派地下生活的景象，看下去像黑沉沉的深渊，人声可闻，并刮着微风，风像从地窖中吹出来似的。可是当他再往上走时，有一件事情使他止步了。两个身穿戏服准备演第三幕的小娘儿们，在幕布的孔眼前闲聊。其中一人挺着腰，用手指把幕眼扒大，想看个清楚，她正在向场内四下张望。
“我看见他了，”她突然说道，“哦！这副面孔！”
博尔德纳夫气极了，憋住气才没有朝她屁股上猛踢一脚。然而，听了这句话，王子却莞尔一笑，样子显得既高兴又激动。他打量着那个蔑视王子殿下的小娘儿们，可她仍放肆地笑呢。博尔德纳夫只好请殿下跟他走。缪法伯爵热得满头流汗，他脱下帽子；特别使他感到不舒适的，是令人窒息的空气。这空气既混浊又闷热，里面还掺杂着一股浓烈的气味。这是后台传出来的气味，有煤气的气味，有布景上的胶水的气味，有阴暗角落里的脏味，还有女群众演员的不干净的内衣的气味。走廊里的空气更闷得人透不过气来；那是化妆用过的水的酸味，肥皂味，呼吸排出来的气味。伯爵一边走着，一边抬起头来，向楼梯间看了一眼，里边放射出一道亮光，并有一阵热浪向他的后颈扑来。上面响着面盆的碰撞声、笑声、呼唤声和门不停开开关关的砰砰声，从门里飘出一阵阵女人身上发出的香味，这是化妆品的麝香味掺杂着头发上难闻的气味。伯爵没有停下来，反而加快了脚步，几乎达到了跑步的速度，他对刺激性的东西非常敏感。他带着寒战走了，因为他从这个火热的缺口，看到了一个他所陌生的世界。
“嗯！剧院真是个奇怪的地方。”舒阿尔侯爵说道，他很愉快，神态就像在自己家里一样。
博尔德纳夫终于来到了走廊尽头的娜娜的化妆室。他不慌不忙地把门上的把手一扭，然后，自己让到一边，说道：
“殿下请进……”
这时，听见一个女人惊叫一声，随后，只见娜娜裸露着上半身，很快躲到帷幕后面，正在替她擦身子的女服装员只好拿着毛巾，举着手，呆在那里。
“啊，这样进来不好！”娜娜躲在里面叫道，“别进来，你们不知道不能进来吗？”
博尔德纳夫见她躲着不出来似乎有些不高兴。
“别躲开，亲爱的，这没啥关系，”他说道，“是王子殿下，来吧，别耍孩子脾气。”
见娜娜还是不肯出来，仍有些害怕，但已开始笑了，博尔德纳夫便用慈父般的严厉的粗暴口气说道：
“我的老天爷！这些先生都知道女人是什么样子。他们不会吃掉你的。”
“这可不一定。”王子巧妙地说道。
大家都笑起来了，而且笑得有些夸张，显然是为了讨好王子。正如博尔德纳夫所说，这是一句妙语，一句完全巴黎式的妙语。娜娜虽然没有回答，只见帷幕动了，她大概已打定主意出来。这时缪法伯爵脸上涨得通红，仔细察看这间化妆室。这是一间方方正正的房子，屋顶很低，四周墙壁上全挂着浅栗色的装饰布。帷幔也是同样的料子，吊在一根铜杆上，把屋子后边隔成一个小间。两扇宽大的窗户朝向剧院的庭院，离窗户最多三公尺远处，有一堵斑斑点点的围墙。夜色中，屋子里的灯光，透过窗户上的玻璃，射出一块块方形黄色光亮，映在那堵围墙上。一面大穿衣镜对着一张白色大理石梳妆台，上面乱七八糟地摆放着一些装头油、香水和香粉的瓶子和水晶盒子。伯爵走近穿衣镜，看见自己脸色发红，额头上沁出小滴汗珠；他走到梳妆台前面，立在那儿，眼睛向下看，洗脸池内盛满了肥皂水，象牙小用具乱散着，海绵湿漉漉的，一时间，他似乎看得出神了。他头一次到奥斯曼大街娜娜家里拜访她时，他头脑中产生的令人眼花缭乱的景象，现在又浮现在他的脑际。在他的脚下，他感到化妆室的厚厚的地毯变软了；梳妆台上方和穿衣镜上方燃着的煤气灯，似乎在他的太阳穴周围咝咝作响。他又闻到了这种女人的气味，这气味在低矮的天花板下变得热乎乎的，浓度似乎增加了百倍。一阵子他害怕被这种气味熏倒，便坐到摆在两扇窗户之间的一张软垫长沙发上。但是他马上又站起来，回到梳妆台前，什么也不看，眸子模模糊糊，回忆起昔日在他的卧室里凋谢的一束晚香玉，他差点被它的香味熏死。晚香玉凋谢时，会散发出人体的气味。
“快点儿！”博尔德纳夫提醒道，他把头探到帷幕里边。
这时，王子正在津津有味地听德·舒阿尔侯爵讲话，他从梳妆台上拿起一只小粉扑，解释怎样上白底粉。萨丹呆在一个角落里，脸上呈现出处女般的纯洁面容，正在打量这些先生；那个服装员朱勒太太正在准备爱神的紧身内衣。朱勒太太看不出有多大年纪，她面容枯槁，表情呆板，如同那些年轻时谁也没见过是什么样子的老姑娘。朱勒太太是在化妆室的灼热空气中才变得憔悴的，她生活在巴黎最有名的大腿和胸脯中间。她总是穿着一件褪色的黑长袍，她的胸部扁平，没有一点女性特征，在胸部的心脏部位别了许多别针。
“请你们原谅，先生们，”娜娜一边扒开帷幕一边说道：“刚才没出来是因为没有准备好……”
大家都转过身子。她身上没穿衣服，刚刚才把一件薄纱小胸衣的扣子扣好，胸部似隐似现。这几位先生不期而至时，她还没完全卸完戏装，便匆匆脱下女鱼贩子衣服，拔腿就跑。裤子后面，还露出衬衫的一个角，她光着双臂，光着肩膀，裸露着乳房，显示了这位令人倾慕的丰腴金发女郎的丰采。她用一只手抓住帷幕不放，万一受到一点惊吓，就立即拉上帷幕。
“我说的是真话，我没有准备好，我绝不敢……”她期期艾艾地说道，露出一副羞愧的神态，脖子涨得红红的，脸上堆满尴尬的微笑。
“行啦，这几位先生觉得这样挺好的！”博尔德纳夫嚷道。
她仍然装出一副天真少女的忸忸怩怩的样子，扭动着身子，像被人搔痒似的，连连说道：
“殿下对我太赏光了……我这个样子来接待殿下，请殿下宽谅……”
“我是不速之客，”王子说道，“不过，夫人，我怎么也摆脱不了来向您祝贺的愿望……”
这时，她要到梳妆台那边去，便穿着衬裤不慌不忙地从先生们中间穿过，他们连忙给她让路。她的臀部很大，把裤子撑得鼓鼓的；胸脯隆起，嘴角上挂着甜蜜的微笑，边走边向大家致意。突然间，她似乎认出了缪法伯爵，她像朋友一样向他伸出手去。尔后，她埋怨他不来参加她的夜宵。王子殿下竟忘了自己的身份，与缪法开玩笑。缪法支支吾吾，激动得打着哆嗦，他刚才用他热乎乎的手握了她的小手，那手刚刚用香水洗过，还有点凉呢。伯爵在王子家里饱餐了一顿，王子也是个能吃善饮的人。现在两人都有几分醉意，但是他们的举止还很得体。缪法为了不让自己流露出内心的激动，便找出一句话来打打岔：
“老天爷！这儿真热，”他说道，“夫人，这么热，您在这儿是怎么过的。”
大家正要谈这个话题时，化妆室门外传来了一阵吵吵嚷嚷的声音。博尔德纳夫拉开门上修道院式的带铁格子的小木板。原来是丰唐来了，他后面还跟着普律利埃尔和博斯克，三个人的腋下都夹着酒瓶，手里拿着酒杯。丰唐敲敲门，大声说今天是他的圣名瞻礼日，他买了几瓶香槟酒请客。娜娜瞧了瞧王子，看看他的意见如何。他会同意吧！如果殿下不想干涉他们进来，她就太高兴了。但是，还没等到王子开口，丰唐就进来了，他用咬字不清的语调连连说道：
“我可不是阿巴贡，我来付香槟酒的帐……”突然间，他发现了王子殿下，原来他不知道王子殿下在那儿。于是，他突然收住话头，露出一副丑角的郑重神态，说道：
“达戈贝尔特国王在走廊里，他请求和王子殿下碰杯。”
王子嫣然一笑，大家都觉得这个场面太妙了。然而，化妆室太小了，容纳不了这么多人。大家不得不挤一挤，萨丹和朱勒太太被挤到屋子最后面，紧靠帷幕，男人们则挤在半裸体的娜娜的周围。三个男演员还穿着第二幕的服装。普律利埃尔脱下了瑞士海军上将的帽子，如果不脱下帽子，帽顶上的大长翎毛会被天花板触断。博斯克身着紫红色外套，头戴白铁皮王冠，他那两条醉汉的腿好不容易才站稳，接着向王子施了礼，俨然是一位君主在接待一个强大邻国的王子。大家的酒杯里都斟得满满的，现在开始碰杯。
“为殿下干杯！”博斯克老头郑重说道。
“为军队干杯！”普律利埃尔补充道。
“为爱神干杯！”丰唐高声叫道。
王子很有礼貌地频频举杯。他等待着，行了三次礼，喃喃说道：
“夫人……海军上将……陛下……”
接着，他一饮而尽。缪法伯爵和德·舒阿尔侯爵也跟着举杯。大家不再开玩笑了，仿佛都置身于宫廷。在煤气灯的热烘烘的水气之下，演出这幕严肃的滑稽剧，可说是把舞台世界延伸到现实世界里了。娜娜忘却自己穿着一条衬裤，裤子边还露出衬衫的一个角，俨然是一个贵妇人，成了维纳斯王后，她在打开她的小小居室，迎接国家要人。她每句话里，都脱口带上“王子殿下”几个字，她真心诚意地行屈膝礼，把两个丑角演员棗博斯克和普律利埃尔分别视为君王和陪同君王的大臣。这位真正的王子、王位继承人，竟然在喝一个蹩脚演员的香槟酒，在诸神的狂欢节上，在这王国的化装舞会上，居然自由自在地呆在服装员、妓女、布景工人以及玩弄女性的人中间，对于这种奇怪的混合，谁也没有发笑。博尔德纳夫被这次演出振奋了精神，他思量着，倘若王子殿下愿在《金发爱神》的第二幕里像这样露露面，将会给他增加多少收入。
“喂！”他叫道，口气变得很随便，“我们去叫我的小娘儿们下来。”
娜娜不赞同她们下来。不过，她自己却放肆起来。丰唐的滑稽可笑的面具吸引了她。她用身子碰了他一下，目光直溜溜地盯着他，就像一个嘴馋孕妇想吃一种不干净的东西似的，她突然用亲昵的口气对他说道：
“喂，斟酒呀！大笨蛋！”
丰唐把杯子里都斟得满满的，大家一边喝酒，一边举杯反复说那几句祝酒词：
“为殿下干杯！”
“为军队干杯！”
“为爱神干杯！”
这时，娜娜做了一下手势，叫大家安静下来。她把杯子举得高高的，说道：
“不，不，为丰唐干杯！……今天是丰唐的圣名瞻礼日，为丰唐干杯！为丰唐干杯！”
于是，大家第三次干杯，为丰唐欢呼祝贺。王子见娜娜的目光贪婪地盯住这个丑角，也向他致意。
“丰唐先生，”王子彬彬有礼地说道，“我为你的成功干杯。”
这时候，殿下的礼服的后摆扫到梳妆台的大理石上。这间屋子颇像卧室中放床的凹室，也像一间狭小的洗澡间，空气中弥漫着盥洗盆和湿海绵散发出来的水气，浓郁的香水气味，还夹杂着一点醉汉呼出来的香槟酒酸味。娜娜紧紧夹在王子和缪法伯爵中间，他俩不得不一直举着手，否则，他们只要稍微动一下手就会碰到她的屁股或乳房。朱勒太太脸上一滴汗也没有，依然呆板地呆在那里。连萨丹这样生活堕落的女人，看到王子殿下和几位穿着礼服的先生同几个身穿戏服的演员在一起，与一个半裸体的女人厮混，都感到惊讶，不禁暗暗思忖着，大人先生们也已经不那么干净了。
这时候，巴里约老爹的铃声在走廊里由远及近。当他走到化妆室门口时，发现第三幕的演员现在还穿着第二幕的戏装，猛然愣住了。
“啊！先生们，先生们，”他结结巴巴地说道，“请你们赶快……观众休息室里的铃已经响过了。”
“唔！”博尔德纳夫满不在乎地说，“那就让观众等等好喽！”
于是，大家又举杯祝了一阵酒，直到酒瓶里的酒喝光了，演员们才上楼去换衣服。博斯克喝酒时胡子沾湿了，他干脆把它摘下来；少了这把令人起敬的胡子，立刻露出一副酒鬼相。他面容枯槁，脸色铁青，一看就知道是个贪杯的老戏子。他们走到楼梯脚下时，还能听见他用酒徒的嗓音，同丰唐谈论王子哩。
“我的样子他感到惊讶吧，嗯？”
在娜娜的化妆室里，现在只剩下王子殿下、伯爵和侯爵了。博尔德纳夫与巴里约一道走了，他叮嘱巴里约在没有通知娜娜太太前，不要敲开幕铃。
“先生们，请原谅。”娜娜说道，她开始化妆双臂和面部，这两部分她化妆得特别仔细，因为在第三幕里她要裸体上场。
王子和德·舒阿尔侯爵在沙发上坐下来。只有缪法伯爵站着。他们喝了两杯香槟酒，加上房间里又闷又热，两人醉得较厉害。萨丹看见几位先生和她的女友关在屋子里，觉得自己还是隐蔽一下为好，便躲到帷幕后面去了。她坐在一只箱子上，心绪不宁地等待着，而朱勒太太悄悄地踱来踱去，一声不吭，看也不看她一眼。
“你那首圆舞曲唱得妙极了。”王子说道。
于是，他们便开始交谈了，不过，他们说话断断续续，有时还沉默一会儿。娜娜顾不上对王子的话每句都回答。她用手把冷霜抹在膀子上和脸上，然后用毛巾一个角往上搽底粉。有一阵子，她不对着镜子照自己，不时笑吟吟地瞟王子一眼，手仍在搽底粉。
“殿下把我宠坏了。”她悄声说道。
德·舒阿尔侯爵见化妆是如此复杂，就一直注视着娜娜的每一个动作，他那神态好像从观看化妆中得到了一种莫大的享受。他也开腔了：
“乐队给你伴奏时，难道不能轻一些吗？乐器的声音盖住了你的声音，这个错误是不可原谅的。”
这一次，娜娜可没有转过身来。她拿起粉扑，在脸上轻轻地、仔细地扑着，身子在梳妆台上方弯得很厉害，圆圆的屁股鼓了起来，绷得紧紧的白内裤都看得出来，还露出一小角衬衫。但是对老头子的恭维话也要有点反应，她就摇摇身子，屁股也随着扭几下，这就算是对老头子的回答。
他们沉默了一会儿。朱勒太太发现娜娜的右裤腿上撕了一道口子，她就在自己的衣服胸襟上取下一根别针，然后跪在地上，在娜娜的大腿周围忙了一阵子。娜娜似乎并不知道她在那儿，仍然搽她的香粉，她小心翼翼地搽，生怕粉搽到颧颊上。这时，王子说，如果她愿意到伦敦去演唱，全英国的人都会给她鼓掌。娜娜莞尔一笑，她把身子转过来一会儿。她的左颊搽得雪白，周围飘着白粉。接着，她突然严肃起来；她开始抹胭脂。她又把脸对准镜子，一个手指放在一个罐子里浸一下，她先把胭脂涂在眼睛下面，再把它慢慢抹开，一直抹到太阳穴。
这几位先生们默不作声，恭恭敬敬地在一旁观看。
缪法伯爵还未开口说话。他不禁回忆起自己的青年时代。他孩提时代的卧室很冷。后来，到了十六岁时，他每天晚上睡觉前都要亲吻他的母亲，并把这个冷冰冰的吻带进睡梦中。一天，他走过一扇半掩着的门口时，发现一个女仆在擦身子；从他的青春期到结婚时，这是唯一令他惴惴不安的回忆。结婚后，他发现妻子严格尽她做妻子的本分。而他自己呢，则是一个虔诚的信徒，对两性生活感到反感。他长大了，变老了，还没有领受过肉体的快感，他的信条是屈从严厉的教规，在生活中，按照教训和教律行事。而现在他却被人突然带到了这间女明星的化妆室，置身于这个赤身裸体的年轻女子前面。过去，他连缪法伯爵夫人怎样系袜带都从未见过。而现在却在这个罐子和面盆狼藉的地方，在这如此浓郁和芳香的气味中，亲眼目睹女人化妆时的隐秘细节。他的整个身心都充满反感，一段时期以来，娜娜对他的潜移默化，令他恐惧起来。他回忆起阅读过的宗教书籍，回忆起儿童时代听到的魔鬼附身的故事。他相信魔鬼的存在。他隐约感到，娜娜就是魔鬼，她的笑声，她的乳房，她的屁股，无不充满了罪恶。不过，他决心做一个强者。
他是能够自卫的。
“那么，就这样说定啦，”王子神态自若地坐在沙发上，说道，“你明年到伦敦来，我们盛情接待你，使你永远不想回法国……啊！原来如此，我亲爱的伯爵，你对你们的那些美人儿不够重视。我们要把她们全部带走啦。”
“他才不在乎呢，”德·舒阿尔侯爵低声调侃道，他在知己人当中说话常会走火，“伯爵就是道德的化身。”
娜娜听见谈到伯爵的德行，用奇异的目光瞧瞧他，缪法随之产生了强烈的反感。接着，他对自己的反感又感到奇怪，便责怪起自己来。在这个婊子面前，为什么想到自己有道德，就感到不好意思呢？他早该揍她一顿。这时，娜娜要去拿一支画眉笔，不小心把它碰落到地上；当她弯腰去捡时，他也赶紧跑过去捡，两个人的呼气汇合在一起了，爱神披散的头发落到他的手上。顿时他感到一种快感，快感中又夹杂着内疚，这是一种天主教徒的快感，由于怕因犯罪而入地狱使这种快感变得更加强烈了。
这会儿，巴里约老爹在门外喊道：
“太太，我可以敲开场锣了吗？观众在大厅里都等急了。”
“等会儿敲。”娜娜若无其事地回答。
她把画眉笔放在黑色颜料罐子里蘸了一下，接着鼻子靠近镜子，闭起左眼，轻轻在睫毛上描过去。缪法站在她身后注视着。他看见镜子里的娜娜，肩膀滚圆，胸部淹没在一片玫瑰色光影中，他竭力想移开自己的视线，但目光仍然不能离开她的脸庞。她那只闭上的眼睛令人春心欲动，脸上的两只小酒窝仿佛充满了情欲。当她闭上右眼，用笔描画时，他知道自己已经被她征服了。
“太太，”催场员气喘吁吁地又叫道，“观众急得跺脚了，这样下去，他们会把座位砸烂的……我可以敲锣了吗？”
“见鬼！”娜娜不耐烦地说道，“你敲你的，我才不管呢！
……我还没有化好妆，让他们等好了。”
她心情平静了下来，转过身子，笑着对几位先生说道：
“真是的，我们连聊一会儿都不行。”
现在，她的面部和手臂都化妆完毕。在她用手指在嘴唇上抹了宽宽两道口红时，缪法伯爵感到更加心神不定，他被令人神魂颠倒的浓妆艳抹迷住了，被这个化妆的少妇的淫荡欲念俘获了。她的脸白皙，双唇鲜红，眼睛涂了黑圆，显得更大了，眼里燃烧着淫欲的火焰，仿佛因情欲而变得憔悴了。这时，娜娜到帷幔后面呆了一会，她脱下衬衫，穿上了爱神的紧身衣。然后，她毫不害羞地出来，解开薄纱短上衣的钮扣，把两只胳膊伸给朱勒太太，让她给自己穿上短袖上衣。
“快点！观众都生气了！”她悄声说道。
王子的眼睛半睁半闭，以内行人的目光欣赏着她隆起的胸部的轮廓，而舒阿尔侯爵却不由自主地摇了一下头。缪法不想再看她，两眼瞧着地毯。爱神已经化妆好了，她只在肩上披一块薄纱。朱勒太太在她身边忙得团团转，神态像木偶小老太婆，眸子无神，却很明亮。她突然从自己胸前的取之不尽的针垫上，拔下几根别针，把爱神的紧身上衣别好，她的干瘪的手触到娜娜的丰腴的裸体上，并未勾起她的任何回忆，仿佛她对女性毫无兴趣。
“好啦！”娜娜对着镜子看了自己最后一眼，说道。
博尔德纳夫焦急地跑回来，他说第三幕已经开始了。
“好喽！我现在就去。”她说道，“这也算回事情！平常总是我等别人。”
几位先生走出化妆室，他们与娜娜不告而别。王子已经表示过，演第三幕时，他想呆在后台观看。化妆室里只剩下娜娜一个人了，她感到很吃惊，向四处张望。
“她到哪里去了？”她问道。
她在寻找萨丹。她发现萨丹呆在帷幕后面，坐在一只箱子上等候着，她平静地回答道：
“你和这些先生呆在一起，当然我不想妨碍你！”萨丹说，她马上就走，但是娜娜把她留住了。萨丹真蠢！博尔德纳夫已经同意录用她，演完戏这事就可以定下来。萨丹有些举棋不定。这里人多，不像她生活的圈子。不过，她最后总算留下来了。
王子正从一道木头小楼梯上往下走时，听见舞台的另一边传来一阵奇怪的声音，像是有人在低声谩骂，还听到顿足的声音。原来发生了一场纠纷，等待上场的演员都被吓坏了。刚才米尼翁又同福什利开玩笑，他以亲热为借口，对福什利拍拍打打。他还想出了一个小把戏，用手指头轻轻地弹福什利的鼻子，说这是为了不让苍蝇落在上面。当然这种玩笑演员们看了很开心。米尼翁对自己成功的一招感到得意忘形，又突发奇想，伸手打了新闻记者一记耳光，一记真正的耳光，而且打得很重。这一次，米尼翁开玩笑开得太过分了。当着众人的面，福什利不能含笑忍受这样一记耳光。于是两人翻了脸，个个脸色铁青，满腔怒火，互相扑向对方，抓住脖下的衣服，扭打起来。接着两人在一根布景撑架后边的地上滚打着，并互相谩骂对方是拉皮条的家伙。
“博尔德纳夫先生！博尔德纳夫先生！”舞台监督惊恐万状，跑来说道。
博尔德纳夫对王子说了声“失陪”，便跟着舞台监督跑过去。他看见在地上的是福什利和米尼翁，便做了一个愤怒的手势。确实，他们选择了一个好时机，王子殿下正好在布景的另一边，整个大厅都听得一清二楚！更糟的是罗丝·米尼翁来了，她气喘吁吁，而这时恰巧是该她上场的时候。火神已经念了台词，下边就应由她接下去。但是，罗丝却愣在那儿，看着丈夫和情人在她的脚边滚打，互相勒脖子，用脚踢，揪头发，礼服上满是灰尘。他们挡住了她的路。在扭打中，福什利那顶该死的帽子差点被扔到舞台上，幸亏被一个布景工人一把抓住。这时，火神胡诌了一些插科打诨的台词，来引观众开心。罗丝呆立在那儿，眼睁睁地瞅着两个男人。
“别再看了！”博尔德纳夫恼羞成怒地在她耳边低声说，“走吧！走吧！……这与你无关！你误场啦！”
博尔德纳夫把罗丝一推，她从两个男人的身上跨过去，走到舞台上，在台前脚灯的照耀下，出现在观众面前。她真不明白他们两人为什么要在这地方殴斗。她身上打着哆嗦，脑子里嗡嗡作响，她向着脚灯走去，脸上浮现出钟情月神的甜蜜的微笑。她开始唱出二重唱中的第一句，嗓音是那样热情奔放，观众报以热烈的掌声。她还隐隐约约听到布景后边两个男人扭打的声音。他们还一直滚到了舞台的檐幕旁边，所幸的是音乐淹没了他们在布景框架下面殴打的响声。
“他妈的！”博尔德纳夫终于把他们拉开了，他怒不可遏地嚷道，“难道你们不能在你们自己家里打吗？你们明明知道我是不喜欢这样……你吗，米尼翁，你要听我的话，呆在这里，在院子这一边；而你，福什利，如果你不呆在花园那一边，我就把你赶出剧院的大门……嗯？就这样说定了，一个呆在院子一边，一个呆在花园一边，否则我就不准罗丝带你们到这里来。”
他回到王子面前时，王子问他发生了什么事。
“哦！没有什么。”他神态镇静自若，喃喃说道。
娜娜站在那里，身上穿着一件裘皮大衣，一边等待上场，一边同这几位先生谈话。缪法伯爵又上来了，想从两个布景架之间，再看舞台一眼。舞台监督对他做了一个手势，他知道走路脚步要轻些。从舞台上空吊布景的地方降下来一股炎热的空气，这里显得很宁静。一片强烈灯光照耀下的后台，只有几个人在低声说话。他们滞留在那里，即使走动也蹑手蹑脚。管煤气灯的工人一直忠于职守，呆在装置复杂的煤气灯光控制板旁边；一个消防队员倚在一根撑架上，脖子伸得长长的，想看看演出；拉幕工坐在高处的一张凳子上，一直守在自己的岗位上，一副尽心尽责的样子，他对演出的戏一无所知，他在等铃声一响，就去拉幕绳。在这令人窒息的空气中，在这轻轻的脚步声中和窃窃私语声中，舞台上演员的声音传到这里，变得十分古怪而又沉闷，失真得令人难以置信。另外，再过去一点的地方，就是乐声嘈杂的乐队的另一边，好像传来阵阵巨大的呼吸声。这是全场观众的呼吸声，这声音有时变大，甚至有时变成喧哗声、笑声和掌声。在这里虽然看不见观众，但仍然知道有观众，即使大厅里一片寂静时，也有这样感觉。
“好像有哪扇门窗没关上，”娜娜突然说道，她把皮大衣裹裹紧，“你去看一看，巴里约。我保证，有人打开了哪扇窗户……这里真能冻死人！”
巴里约向她保证，说窗户都是他亲手关上的。窗户上有玻璃打碎了，这倒可能。演员们总是对穿堂风怨声载道。丰唐说得好，煤气灯把这里照得又闷又热，加上阵阵冷风穿过，呆在这个窝里，不得肺炎才怪呢。
“你们也穿得袒胸露肩试试看，会有什么感觉。”娜娜气乎乎地说道。
“嘘！”博尔德纳夫低声说道。
在舞台上，罗丝把二重唱的每句唱词唱得那样优美动听，观众的喝彩声淹没了乐队的伴奏声。娜娜一声不吭，沉着脸。这时，伯爵冒冒失失地钻进天幕后边的通道，巴里约连忙拦住他，告诉他那儿有一块空隙，会让观众看见的。他看见的是布景的背面和侧面，布景架的后面糊着厚厚一层旧海报，在舞台的一个角落里，埃特纳火山的一个岩洞陷入在一座银矿里，舞台的最后边有火神的炼铁炉。悬挂下来的布景照明灯，照在涂有浓重色彩的金属板上，宛如着了火似的。若干装着蓝色玻璃和红色玻璃的布景撑架，利用精确的反差效果，使反射的灯光就像熊熊燃烧着的炭火；在舞台的最里边，一道道瓦斯灯光闪烁着，把黑岩石的岩坝照得清清楚楚。就在那里一道用实物制成的缓坡上，坐着扮演天后朱诺的德鲁阿尔老太太，她的周围亮光点点，酷似节日夜晚放在草丛中的一盏盏小油灯，她被灯光照得睁不开眼睛，昏昏欲睡，坐在那里等待入场。
这时候，发生了一阵骚动。西蒙娜正在听克拉利瑟讲故事，她突然叫道：
“瞧，拉特里贡来了！”
果然是拉特里贡来了，她的鬓角上烫着鬈发，神态像一位伯爵夫人去拜见她的诉讼代理人。她瞥见娜娜后，径直向她走去。
“不，”她们之间三言两语后，娜娜说道，“现在不行。”
老虔婆把脸一沉。普律利埃尔这时从那儿走过，同拉特里贡握了握手。普律利埃尔和娜娜激动地打量着她。拉特里贡迟疑了一阵子。接着，她做了一个手势，叫西蒙娜过来。随后，她们开始了简短的谈话。
“行，”西蒙娜终于说道，“再过半个钟头。”
西蒙娜正向化妆室走时，布龙太太又拿着一些信件走来走去，便递给她一封。博尔德纳夫见拉特里贡来，很生气，低声责备女门房不该放她进来；这个女人！偏偏在这个晚上来，这件事使他特别恼怒，因为王子殿下今晚来了。布龙太太在剧院干了三十年，她尖声怪调地回答道：她①怎么知道王子来了呢？拉特里贡老虔婆跟这里的每个女人都做交易，经理先生碰到过她不知多少次了，对她却从来没有说过一句什么。这时博尔德纳夫骂出一些粗话，拉特里贡呆在那儿一声不吭，目不转睛地打量着王子。她这个女人，一眼就能掂量出一个男人好不好色。她那蜡黄的脸上浮现出微笑。随后，她慢吞吞地从对她毕恭毕敬的小娘儿们中间走出去。
①“她”是指布龙太太自己，这里用第三人称代替第一人称。
“一会儿就来，对吗？”她掉过头来对西蒙娜说道。
西蒙娜看上去很烦恼。那封信是一个青年写来的，她原先答应今晚与他相会。她草草写了个便条递给布龙太太，里边写道：“今晚不行，亲爱的，我有事情。”但她心里仍然很不放心，怕他见了条子还会等下去。因为她在第三幕中不上场，她想还不如马上离开一会儿去见见他，于是便请克拉利瑟去看看那个青年走了没有。克拉利瑟要到第三幕快结束时才上场，所以就下楼了，这时西蒙娜赶紧回她俩共用的化妆室。
楼下布龙太太的酒吧里，一个扮演冥王的配角演员在那里独自饮酒，他身穿一件大红袍，上面用金线绣着金光闪闪的装饰。看样子女门房经营的小生意一定很兴隆，因为在这个地窖般的角落里，楼梯脚下被洗酒杯的水倒得湿漉漉的。克拉利瑟下楼时，撩起她那虹神的裙子，生怕裙子的下摆拖在油垢的梯级上。走到楼梯的转弯处时，她小心地收住脚步，伸长脖子向门房室里张望一下。果然不出她所料，拉法卢瓦兹这个傻瓜不是还呆在那儿，坐在桌子和炉子中间的椅子上吗？他假装见到了西蒙娜，溜走一会儿，然后又回来。再说，门房室里总是坐满了男人，他们戴着手套，衣冠楚楚，态度温顺，耐心地等待着。他们一边等，一边神态严肃地互相打量着。布龙太太把最后送来的几束花已经送走了，所以桌子上只剩下一些脏盆子。只有一朵凋谢了的玫瑰花掉在那只黑母猫旁边，母猫缩成一团睡在那里，几只小猫在先生们的腿下狂奔乱跳。克拉利瑟一时间真想把拉法卢瓦兹赶出去。这个傻瓜不喜欢动物，这就看出他的为人。他把胳膊肘缩起来，生怕猫碰到他。
“他会缠住你的，你要当心！”冥王说道。他是个爱开玩笑的人，他一边上楼梯，一边用手背揩着嘴唇。
这时，克拉利瑟放弃了让拉法卢瓦兹出丑的想法。她看着布龙太太把西蒙娜的信交给了那个青年。他到前厅的一盏煤气灯下面看信：“今晚不行，亲爱的，我有事情。”他看后很平静，大概对这样的话已习以为常了，接着他便走了。不管怎样，他还算是知趣的人，不像其他男人，坐在布龙太太的破椅子上，呆在这间灼热、奇臭的玻璃大灯笼般的屋子里死等。堂堂男子汉们就呆在这种地方！克拉利瑟很反感地上楼去了，她穿过舞台，轻捷地上楼梯，一步跨三级，回化妆室给西蒙娜回话去了。
舞台上，王子单独与娜娜呆在一起，与她谈话。他一直没有离开她，眯缝着眼睛瞧着她。娜娜眼睛不看他，脸上堆满微笑，同意他的话就点点头。缪法伯爵正在听博尔德纳夫详细讲解绞盘和鼓筒怎样操作，突然，他内心一阵冲动，扔下博尔德纳夫，走过来想打断王子和娜娜的谈话。娜娜抬起头，就像对王子殿下笑的那个样子，对他莞尔一笑，不过，他总是竖起耳朵，注意听台上的台词。
“我觉得第三幕最短。”王子说道。伯爵在场，他觉得有些不太自在。
娜娜对王子的话没有作答，脸上表情也变了，她突然想到她演戏的事上来。她的肩膀猛然一动，皮衣滑落下来，朱勒太太正好站在她的背后，一把接住了。她赤身裸体，把两只手放到头发上，像要把它弄弄平，接着她进场了。
“嘘！嘘！”博尔德纳夫悄悄示意。
王子和伯爵感到惊讶。在一片寂静中，传来了深沉的叹息声和远处发出的喧哗声。每天晚上，当爱神赤裸着女神般的身体进场时，都产生同样的效果。这时缪法想瞧一瞧，便把眼睛贴近一个洞眼。台上的脚灯排成一道弧形，发出夺目的光芒，脚灯背面的大厅里显得昏昏暗暗，好像弥漫着黄橙橙的烟雾，在这暗淡的背景中，一排排观众的面孔显得苍白而又模糊不清，而舞台上的娜娜则显得格外清楚。她浑身白皙，变得高大了，把楼上楼下的包厢全部遮挡了。缪法从她的背后看着她，她的腰绷得紧紧的，双臂张开；而在地板上，与她的脚平齐的高度，露出一个提台词老人的头，那头像被割下来似的，样子看上去既可怜而又老实。她上场后唱第一段唱段时，每唱一句，脖子就像波浪一样起伏，这样起伏向下波及到腰部，并一直延伸到裙子的下摆。她唱完最后一句时，全场立刻报以雷鸣般的喝彩声，她向观众鞠躬致谢，身上的薄纱飘起来，长长的头发披落到腰部。缪法看见她弯着腰，撅着屁股往后退，方向朝向那个洞眼，他正在那儿观看呢，顿时他直起腰来，脸色变得煞白。舞台上的一切看不见了，映入他眼帘的只是布景的背面，上面乱七八糟地贴着五颜六色的旧海报。在一排排煤气灯照耀下，在一道斜坡上，奥林匹斯山诸神又找到了德鲁阿尔太太，她正在打盹。他们在等待这幕戏结束。博斯克和丰唐坐在地上，下巴搁在膝盖上，普律利埃尔还没上场就伸懒腰，打呵欠。大家都满面倦容，眼睛通红，想赶紧回家睡觉。
博尔德纳夫下过命令，不准福什利走到院子这一边，他就一直在花园一边溜达，这时，为了掩饰自己的窘相，便抓住伯爵，自愿带他去参观演员化妆室。缪法越来越优柔寡断，遇事拿不定主意，他用目光四下寻找德·舒阿尔侯爵，终不见踪影，便跟着新闻记者走了。他呆在后台，能听见娜娜的演唱，现在离开那里，既感到轻松，又感到不安。
福什利先上了楼梯，这种楼梯在二楼和三楼都装有用于关闭楼梯的木头转门。这种楼梯在蹩脚的房屋里常常见到，缪法伯爵曾以赈济所委员的身份，去贫民家里走访过，他看到过这样的楼梯，上面装饰全无，破旧不堪，漆成黄色，梯级被脚上上下下踏损了，铁栏杆被手磨平了。每道楼梯的平台边，贴近地面都有一扇低矮的窗户，方方正正地凹进去，像是气窗。一些悬挂在墙壁上的灯笼，发出煤气光焰，强烈地照射着这种种贫寒景物，还散发出一股热气，向上升腾，并聚积在各层狭窄的螺旋形楼梯下。
伯爵走到楼梯脚下时，感到有一股炽热的气流吹到他的后颈上，热气中夹有一股女人身上发出的香味，这股香味是随着光线和声音一起从化妆室里落下来的；他每上一个梯级，那香粉的麝香味，梳洗水的酸醋味使他身上变得热乎乎的，他感到头晕目眩。二层楼上，有两条长长的走廊，拐弯处转得很陡然，两边的门都漆成黄色，上面有白色粗体字母号码，看上去颇像带出租家具、有暗娼出入的旅馆的房间；走廊上的地砖都活动了，一块块鼓起来，可见这座旧楼在下陷。伯爵壮着胆子从一扇半开半掩的门边往里瞟了一眼，房间里很脏，活像郊区的一个理发棚，里边只有两把椅子，一面镜子和一张带抽屉的条桌，桌面上被梳子上的油垢弄得黑乎乎的。一个汗流浃背的壮汉，肩上冒着热气，正在那里换衣服；而旁边那个同样的房间里，一个女人正在戴手套，准备出门；她的头发又直又潮湿，像刚刚洗过澡。伯爵走到三楼时，福什利叫他，这时听见右边走廊里有人怒气冲冲地骂了一句“他妈的！”；原来是马蒂尔德这个小邋遢鬼打破了脸盆，脸盆里的肥皂水一直流到楼梯的平台上。一间化妆室的门砰的一声关上了。两个穿着胸衣的女人一跳越过走廊；还有一个女人，用牙齿咬着衬衫的边沿，出现了一下就走了。随后，听到一阵笑声、争吵声和刚唱就突然中断了的歌声。沿着走廊，伯爵透过每个化妆室的门缝向里面看，他看见裸体的一些部位，白皙的皮肤，浅色的内衣，两个活泼快乐的女孩，互相让对方看自己身上的痣；一个很年轻、几乎还是孩子的姑娘把裙子撩到膝盖上面，正在缝补她的衬裤，这时服装员们瞅见两个男人走进来，一个个轻轻地把布帘放下来，以免有失体统。现在演出快结束了，人们忙碌不堪，演员们忙于洗脸上的白粉和胭脂，室内空气中白粉如雾，人们换上平常穿的礼服，从不时开开关关的门里散发出浓烈的臭味。到了四楼，缪法浑身渐渐陷入了昏昏沉沉的状态。群众演员的化妆室就在这一层；二十个女人挤在一起，肥皂和香水瓶放得杂乱无章，颇像城门入口处的检查大厅。缪法走过一扇紧关着的门口时，听见一阵急促的洗濯声，脸盆里的水发出暴风般的声音。随后，他上了最高一层楼，他出于好奇心，壮着胆量透过一个开着的窥视孔，向里边张望一下。屋子里阒无一人，在煤气灯光下，仅有一只被人遗忘的便壶，放在被人胡乱扔在地上的裙子中间。这个房间是他这次观看的最后一个房间。在这最高的第五层楼上，他感到喘不过气来。各种气味，全部热量统统涌到那里。黄色的天花板像被火烧焦似的，在黄橙橙的云雾中，一盏灯笼点燃着。他在铁栏杆边站了片刻，觉得铁栏杆像人体一样温暖，于是，他闭上眼睛，深深地吸了一口气，品味了一会女性的全部性感，而这种性感他还不知道，现在正向他的脸上袭来。
“过来一下吧，”福什利喊道，他刚才离开了一会儿，“有人找你呢。”
克拉利瑟和西蒙娜的化妆室在走廊的一端，这间屋子狭长，造得很粗糙，在屋顶下面，墙角倾斜，墙上有裂缝。光线是从屋顶上两个深深的洞眼射进来的。在夜晚这样的时刻，煤气灯的光焰照亮了化妆室，化妆室的墙上贴着每卷值七个苏的纸，上面印着爬在棕色架子上的玫瑰花。有两块木板并排放着，上面都盖着一块漆布，是当着梳妆台用的。漆布被泼散的污水染黑了，木板下面乱糟糟地放着一些碰瘪了的水罐，盛满污水的水桶，黄色粗陶水罐。屋子里还摆着一些劣质日用品，全被用得歪歪扭扭，肮脏不堪，脸盆有缺口，梳子缺齿。两个女人在卸装和洗脸时，匆匆忙忙，随便乱放，把她们周围的东西搞得凌乱不堪，这个地方不过是她们的暂时停留之处，肮脏与她们没有关系。
“过来吧，”福什利像呆在娘儿们家里一样，用亲昵的男人口吻，又说道，“克拉利瑟想亲亲你呢。”
缪法终于进了屋子。他突然愣住了，他发现德·舒阿尔侯爵坐在两张梳妆台中间的一把椅子上。侯爵早已躲在这里了。他叉开两只脚，因为有一只水桶漏水，流出一潭灰白色的水。他看上去挺自在的，好地方他都知道。他精神抖擞地呆在这种令人窒息的浴缸般的地方，呆在这些心安理得、不知廉耻的女人中间，这个脏地方使她们变得天真而又放荡。
“你会跟那个老头子去吗？”西蒙娜在克拉利瑟的耳畔问道。
“我决不干！”克拉利瑟大声嚷道。
她们的服装员是一个其貌不扬、不拘礼节的姑娘，她正在帮助西蒙娜穿大衣，听到她们两人的谈话，笑弯了腰。三个人互相推推撞撞打闹着，嘁嘁喳喳，显得十分快乐。
“来吧，克拉利瑟，吻吻这位先生，”福什利又说，“你知道他很有钱。”
接着，他又转向伯爵，说道：
“你等着瞧吧，她很可爱，她会吻你的。”
然而，克拉利瑟对男人不感兴趣。她咒骂那些在楼下女门房那里等待的混蛋。另外，她又急着要下楼，她再跟他们呆着就要误场了。随后，因为福什利挡在门口，她就在缪法的脸颊上吻了两下，一边说道：
“无论如何，两个吻不是给你的！而是给缠住我的福什利的！”
说完，她一溜烟地走了。伯爵在他的岳父面前，显得很尴尬，一股血涌到了他的脸上。刚才在娜娜的化妆室里，面对那些华丽的帷幔和镜子，倒没有感到强烈的兴奋，这时在这间被两个女人弄得乱七八糟、令人羞愧的寒碜陋室里却感到这样兴奋。这时侯爵跟在匆匆忙忙下楼的西蒙娜后边走了，他贴在她的耳边说话，而她总是摇摇头。福什利笑着跟在他们后边。这样，只有伯爵一个人和服装员留下来，服装员在洗脸盆。接着，伯爵也走了，他下楼梯时，两腿发软，他前面几个穿衬裙的女人，被他再次吓跑了。他走到她们门口时，她们把门砰的一声关上了。他跑了四层楼，每层都有卸了装的姑娘，她们三三两两，到处乱跑。他只看清楚一只猫，那是一只大红猫，在这个散发着香粉臭气、热得像火炉的地方，沿着梯级乱窜，还翘着尾巴，把背贴在栏杆的扶手上擦痒。
“唉！”一个嗓子嘶哑的女人说道，“我还以为他们今晚不让我们下台呢！……这些讨厌的观众，还一次次鼓掌要求我们谢幕呢！”
演出结束，幕布落了下来。楼梯上响起急促的脚步声，楼梯间一片呼喊声，大家都匆匆忙忙穿衣服，忙着回家。缪法伯爵走到最后一级楼梯时，看见娜娜和王子慢吞吞地走在走廊上。娜娜停下脚步，接着莞尔一笑，放低噪门说道：
“就这样吧，等会儿见。”
王子回到舞台上，博尔德纳夫在那里等他呢。于是，只有缪法一个人和娜娜在一起，他在怒气和性欲的驱使下，跑到娜娜的背后，当她向化妆室走去时，他在她的后颈上狂吻了一下，吻的部位是在两肩中间长得很低的卷曲、毛茸茸的一撮撮短发上。这个吻好像是对他在楼上时受到的吻的回报。娜娜生气了，抬起手来想打人。当她认出伯爵来时，嫣然一笑。
“哦！你把我吓坏了。”她只说了一句。
她笑得挺可爱的，露出一副羞答答、乖顺的样子，好像原来对这一吻已经不抱希望了，而现在得到了，感到欣喜万分。但是，她不能迎合他的要求，今天晚上和明天都不行。必须让他等待一个时期。即使行，她也要吊吊他的胃口。从她的眼神中已经看出了这个意思。她最后说道：
“你知道，我有房子了……是的，我买了一座乡间别墅，靠近奥尔良，那个地方你有时去玩，这是宝宝告诉我的，就是小乔治·于贡，你认识他吗？你到那儿来看我吧。”
伯爵是个胆小的人，对自己刚才的唐突行动感到愧怕。他彬彬有礼地向她鞠了一个躬，并答应她一定接受她的邀请。随后，他走了，一边走一边想这想那。
他赶上了王子，走到演员休息室门前时，听见萨丹叫道：
“你是个下流的老头子！让我安静点吧！”
她骂的是德·舒阿尔侯爵，他不得已而找上了萨丹。但是她对上流社会的人物特别厌恶。娜娜刚才把她介绍给博尔德纳夫。不过，像这样呆着，嘴上贴上封条，生怕说出蠢话，这着实叫她受不了；现在她想得到补偿，正巧她在后台碰上了过去的情人，就是扮演冥王的那个配角。此人是糕点师，曾经给过她一个星期的爱情和耳光。她在等他，侯爵把她当成剧院的一个女演员，同她讲话，使她非常恼怒。所以，最后她摆出一副十分尊严的样子，说出这样一句话：
“我丈夫就要来了，你等着瞧吧！”
这时，演员们穿着大衣，面容疲乏，一个接一个走了。男人们和女人们三五成群从小螺旋楼梯上往下走，在昏暗中，依稀看见一顶顶破旧的帽子，一条条起皱的披肩和卸装后的一张张群众演员的灰白、丑陋的面孔。舞台上，边灯和布景照明灯全都熄灭了，王子在听博尔德纳夫讲一件轶事。他想等娜娜。当娜娜终于来到时，舞台上已一片漆黑，值班消防队员提着灯笼在作最后巡逻。博尔德纳夫为了不让王子殿下绕道从全景胡同走，便叫人打开了门房室通往剧院前厅那条走廊。沿着这条通道，小娘儿们乱哄哄地奔走，她们都很高兴，因为这样避开了在全景胡同正在等待她们的男人们。她们你推我搡，不时回过头来望望，到了外边才舒了口气，然而丰唐、博斯克和普律利埃尔却慢悠悠地走着，一边嘲笑那些装得严肃的男人们。他们还在游艺剧院的门廊下踱来踱去，这时候小娘儿们已跟着她们的情郎从大街上溜走了。克拉利瑟特别机灵，她对拉法卢瓦兹严加提防。拉法卢瓦兹果然还没走，呆在门房室里，同一些先生坐在布龙太太的椅子上死命地等待。他们每个人都仰着脸，眼巴巴地等着。于是，克拉利瑟便躲在一个女友的身后，一下子溜走了。这些先生们眨着眼皮，看到那些旋涡般的裙子从狭窄的楼梯脚下过去，他们等了那么长时间，看见她们一个个走过去，却没有认出一个人来，非常扫兴。那一窝小黑猫贴着母猫的肚子睡在漆布上，母猫怡然自得，伸长爪子，而那只大红公猫则坐在桌子的另一头，伸长尾巴，用黄眼睛看着那些逃走的女人。
“请殿下从这边走。”他们到了楼梯底下，博尔德纳夫指着走廊说道。
有几个女群众演员还挤在走廊里。王子跟在娜娜后面。缪法和侯爵殿后。这是一条狭长的小巷，在剧院和相邻的房屋中间，屋顶是倾斜的，上面开了几个玻璃天窗，墙壁上渗出潮气。行人踏在石板地上发出的响声，像在地道里行走的声音。这里堆满了该放在阁楼里的东西，有一个木工台，门房常在上面刨布景架，还有一堆木栏杆，晚上放在剧院门口，供观众排队入场。娜娜经过一个界石形水龙头前时，不得不撩起裙子，因为水龙头关不严，水流出来了，淹没了石板地。到了剧院前，大家互相施礼告辞。后来，只剩下博尔德纳夫一个人时，他耸耸肩膀，这个动作充分表达了对王子的蔑视，也表达了对王子的全部评价。
“尽管他是王子，还有点缺乏教养。”他对福什利说道，但并未详细解释。罗丝·米尼翁把福什利和她的丈夫领来，她想带他们两人到她家里，劝他们重新和好。
缪法一个人站在人行道上。王子殿下刚才不慌不忙地扶着娜娜上了他的马车。侯爵跟在萨丹和她的配角后面走着，他很兴奋，高兴地跟在那对不正经的男女后面，心里抱着得到萨丹青睐的一线希望。这时，缪法的头脑发胀，决定步行回家。他头脑里的一切斗争停止了，一种新生活的浪潮淹没了他四十年的观念和信仰。他沿着一条条大马路走时，夜间最后几辆马车的车轮的辘辘声，仿佛是呼唤娜娜名字的声音，简直把他的耳朵都震聋了。在煤气灯光下，他眼前似乎出现了娜娜那晃动的裸体，出现了她那柔软的胳膊和白皙的肩膀；他觉得娜娜占有了他，只要他在当天晚上能占有她一小时，他把什么都抛弃掉，把什么都卖掉，也在所不惜。他青春时期的情欲终于重新燃起，一股贪婪的青春烈火在他冷漠的天主教徒的心中骤然燃烧起来，也在他成年人的尊严中骤然燃烧起来。
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1
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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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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obliquely
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| adv.斜； 倾斜； 间接； 不光明正大 | |
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oblique
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| adj.斜的，倾斜的，无诚意的，不坦率的 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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scrutinizing
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
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alpine
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| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
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plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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barometer
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| n.气压表，睛雨表，反应指标 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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comedians
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| n.喜剧演员，丑角( comedian的名词复数 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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22
sterling
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| adj.英币的(纯粹的，货真价实的)；n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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23
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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27
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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28
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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29
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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31
prospering
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的现在分词 ) | |
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perquisites
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| n.（工资以外的）财务补贴( perquisite的名词复数 )；额外收入；（随职位而得到的）好处；利益 | |
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33
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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34
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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38
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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42
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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43
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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44
budged
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| v.（使）稍微移动( budge的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）改变主意，（使）让步 | |
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45
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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46
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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47
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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48
pervade
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| v.弥漫，遍及，充满，渗透，漫延 | |
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pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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51
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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52
plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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53
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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54
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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55
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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56
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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57
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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58
deriving
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| v.得到( derive的现在分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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59
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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60
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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61
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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62
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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63
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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64
pout
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| v.撅嘴；绷脸；n.撅嘴；生气，不高兴 | |
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65
bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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66
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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67
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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68
corrupted
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| （使）败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）腐化； 引起（计算机文件等的）错误； 破坏 | |
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69
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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70
bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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71
vouchsafe
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| v.惠予，准许 | |
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72
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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73
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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74
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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75
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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77
proffer
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| v.献出，赠送；n.提议，建议 | |
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78
dabs
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| 少许( dab的名词复数 )； 是…能手； 做某事很在行； 在某方面技术熟练 | |
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79
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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80
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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81
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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82
disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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83
bantering
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| adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的现在分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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84
respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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85
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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86
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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87
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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88
troupe
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| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
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89
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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90
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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91
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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92
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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93
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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94
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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95
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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96
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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97
palled
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| v.（因过多或过久而）生厌，感到乏味，厌烦( pall的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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99
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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100
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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101
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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102
pigeonholes
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| n.鸽舍出入口( pigeonhole的名词复数 )；小房间；文件架上的小间隔v.把…搁在分类架上( pigeonhole的第三人称单数 )；把…留在记忆中；缓办；把…隔成小格 | |
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103
bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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104
recipients
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| adj.接受的；受领的；容纳的；愿意接受的n.收件人；接受者；受领者；接受器 | |
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105
proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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106
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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107
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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108
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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109
descry
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| v.远远看到；发现；责备 | |
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110
garnished
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
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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112
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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113
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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114
lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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115
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；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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116
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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117
tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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118
shamming
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| 假装，冒充( sham的现在分词 ) | |
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119
pulverize
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| v.研磨成粉；摧毁 | |
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120
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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121
obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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122
obeisances
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| n.敬礼，行礼( obeisance的名词复数 )；敬意 | |
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123
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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124
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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125
irreproachable
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| adj.不可指责的，无过失的 | |
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126
deign
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| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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127
maneuvers
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| n.策略，谋略，花招( maneuver的名词复数 ) | |
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128
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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129
repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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130
galaxies
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| 星系( galaxy的名词复数 )； 银河系； 一群（杰出或著名的人物） | |
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131
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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132
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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133
grotto
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| n.洞穴 | |
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134
sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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135
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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136
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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137
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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138
verging
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| 接近，逼近（verge的现在分词形式） | |
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139
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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140
scurry
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| vi.急匆匆地走；使急赶；催促；n.快步急跑，疾走；仓皇奔跑声；骤雨，骤雪；短距离赛马 | |
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141
deigns
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的第三人称单数 ) | |
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142
descried
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| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
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143
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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144
subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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145
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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146
perspire
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| vi.出汗，流汗 | |
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147
stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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148
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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149
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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150
questionably
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| adv.可疑地；不真实地；有问题地 | |
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151
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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152
scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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153
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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154
emanating
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| v.从…处传出，传出( emanate的现在分词 )；产生，表现，显示 | |
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155
ewers
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| n.大口水壶，水罐( ewer的名词复数 ) | |
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156
musk
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| n.麝香, 能发出麝香的各种各样的植物，香猫 | |
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157
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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158
pungency
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| n.（气味等的）刺激性；辣；（言语等的）辛辣；尖刻 | |
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159
exhaled
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| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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160
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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161
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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162
cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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163
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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164
peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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165
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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166
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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167
wittily
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| 机智地，机敏地 | |
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168
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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169
witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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170
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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171
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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172
flasks
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| n.瓶，长颈瓶， 烧瓶( flask的名词复数 ) | |
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173
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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174
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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175
utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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176
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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177
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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178
divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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179
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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180
bosoms
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| 胸部( bosom的名词复数 )； 胸怀； 女衣胸部（或胸襟）； 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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181
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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182
everlastingly
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| 永久地，持久地 | |
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183
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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184
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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185
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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186
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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187
tickling
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| 反馈，回授，自旋挠痒法 | |
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188
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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189
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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190
deigned
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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191
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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192
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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193
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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194
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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195
vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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196
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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197
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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198
farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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199
enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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200
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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201
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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202
carnival
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| n.嘉年华会，狂欢，狂欢节，巡回表演 | |
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203
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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204
venal
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| adj.唯利是图的，贪脏枉法的 | |
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205
accrued
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| adj.权责已发生的v.增加( accrue的过去式和过去分词 )；（通过自然增长）产生；获得；（使钱款、债务）积累 | |
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206
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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207
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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208
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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209
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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210
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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211
intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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212
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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213
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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214
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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215
pulverized
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| adj.[医]雾化的，粉末状的v.将…弄碎( pulverize的过去式和过去分词 )；将…弄成粉末或尘埃；摧毁；粉碎 | |
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216
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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217
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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218
nude
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| adj.裸体的；n.裸体者，裸体艺术品 | |
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219
intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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220
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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221
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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222
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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223
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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224
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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225
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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226
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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227
rouging
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| 胭脂，口红( rouge的现在分词 ) | |
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228
rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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229
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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230
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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231
conjugal
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| adj.婚姻的，婚姻性的 | |
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232
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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233
precepts
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| n.规诫，戒律，箴言( precept的名词复数 ) | |
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234
disarray
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| n.混乱，紊乱，凌乱 | |
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235
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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236
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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237
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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238
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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239
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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240
risky
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|
| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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241
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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242
annoyance
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|
| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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243
virtuous
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|
| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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244
remorse
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|
| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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245
torments
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| （肉体或精神上的）折磨，痛苦( torment的名词复数 )； 造成痛苦的事物[人] | |
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246
carmine
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|
| n.深红色，洋红色 | |
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247
perverse
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|
| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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248
transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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249
wrought
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|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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250
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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251
tranquil
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|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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252
Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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253
connoisseurship
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| n.鉴赏家（或鉴定家、行家）身份，鉴赏（或鉴定）力 | |
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254
smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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255
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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256
flicking
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|
| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的现在分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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257
extravagant
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|
| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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258
equanimity
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|
| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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259
prostrate
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|
| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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260
amorous
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|
| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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261
ovation
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| n.欢呼，热烈欢迎，热烈鼓掌 | |
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262
exasperation
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|
| n.愤慨 | |
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263
drowsy
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|
| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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264
discordant
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|
| adj.不调和的 | |
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265
swelled
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|
| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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266
rumors
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|
| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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267
tightened
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|
| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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268
influenza
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|
| n.流行性感冒，流感 | |
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269
hush
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|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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270
beckoned
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|
| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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271
deferential
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|
| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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272
scribbled
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|
| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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273
apprehensive
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|
| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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274
Pluto
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| n.冥王星 | |
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275
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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276
prudently
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|
| adv. 谨慎地，慎重地 | |
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277
pretense
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|
| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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278
sneaking
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|
| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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279
withering
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|
| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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280
gallops
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| （马等）奔驰，骑马奔驰( gallop的名词复数 ) | |
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281
doggedly
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|
| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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282
battered
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|
| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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283
glazed
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|
| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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284
eyelids
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|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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285
vapor
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|
| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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286
blotted
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|
| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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287
noted
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|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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288
severed
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|
| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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289
dozing
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|
| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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290
longing
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|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
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291
countenance
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|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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292
languor
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|
| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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293
miserable
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|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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294
tenements
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| n.房屋，住户，租房子( tenement的名词复数 ) | |
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295
benevolent
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|
| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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296
incessant
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|
| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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297
friction
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| n.摩擦，摩擦力 | |
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298
laden
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|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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299
wafted
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|
| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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300
hummocks
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|
| n.小丘，岗( hummock的名词复数 ) | |
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301
perspiring
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|
| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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302
doorways
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|
| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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303
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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304
catching
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|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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305
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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306
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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307
suffocated
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|
| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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308
utterly
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|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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309
penetrated
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|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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310
underneath
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|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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311
medley
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| n.混合 | |
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312
zinc
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| n.锌；vt.在...上镀锌 | |
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313
jugs
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| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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314
earthenware
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|
| n.土器，陶器 | |
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315
purely
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|
| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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316
snugly
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|
| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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317
snug
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|
| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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318
thither
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|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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319
poignant
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|
| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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320
helping
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|
| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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321
positively
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|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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322
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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323
babbled
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|
| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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324
rhino
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|
| n.犀牛，钱, 现金 | |
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325
darted
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|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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326
shameful
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|
| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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327
gliding
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|
| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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328
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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329
hoarsely
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|
| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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330
exclamations
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|
| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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331
imprinted
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|
| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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332
promising
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|
| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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333
bloody
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|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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334
decided
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|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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335
regain
|
|
| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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336
entrusted
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|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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337
pastry
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|
| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
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338
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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339
panoramas
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| 全景画( panorama的名词复数 )； 全景照片； 一连串景象或事 | |
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340
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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341
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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342
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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343
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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344
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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345
brazenly
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| adv.厚颜无耻地；厚脸皮地肆无忌惮地 | |
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346
eddying
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| 涡流，涡流的形成 | |
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347
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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348
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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349
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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350
eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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351
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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352
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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353
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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354
deafened
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| 使聋( deafen的过去式和过去分词 )； 使隔音 | |
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355
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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356
abjured
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| v.发誓放弃( abjure的过去式和过去分词 )；郑重放弃（意见）；宣布撤回（声明等）；避免 | |
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357
lustful
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| a.贪婪的；渴望的 | |
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358
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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