At the epoch1 of this history, the cell in the Tour-Roland was occupied. If the reader desires to know by whom, he has only to lend an ear to the conversation of three worthy2 gossips, who, at the moment when we have directed his attention to the Rat-Hole, were directing their steps towards the same spot, coming up along the water's edge from the Chatelet, towards the Grève.
Two of these women were dressed like good ~bourgeoises~ of Paris. Their fine white ruffs; their petticoats of linsey- woolsey, striped red and blue; their white knitted stockings, with clocks embroidered4 in colors, well drawn5 upon their legs; the square-toed shoes of tawny6 leather with black soles, and, above all, their headgear, that sort of tinsel horn, loaded down with ribbons and laces, which the women of Champagne7 still wear, in company with the grenadiers of the imperial guard of Russia, announced that they belonged to that class wives which holds the middle ground between what the lackeys8 call a woman and what they term a lady. They wore neither rings nor gold crosses, and it was easy to see that, in their ease, this did not proceed from poverty, but simply from fear of being fined. Their companion was attired9 in very much the same manner; but there was that indescribable something about her dress and bearing which suggested the wife of a provincial10 notary11. One could see, by the way in which her girdle rose above her hips12, that she had not been long in Paris.--Add to this a plaited tucker, knots of ribbon on her shoes--and that the stripes of her petticoat ran horizontally instead of vertically13, and a thousand other enormities which shocked good taste.
The two first walked with that step peculiar14 to Parisian ladies, showing Paris to women from the country. The provincial held by the hand a big boy, who held in his a large, flat cake.
We regret to be obliged to add, that, owing to the rigor15 of the season, he was using his tongue as a handkerchief.
The child was making them drag him along, ~non passibus Cequis~, as Virgil says, and stumbling at every moment, to the great indignation of his mother. It is true that he was looking at his cake more than at the pavement. Some serious motive17, no doubt, prevented his biting it (the cake), for he contented18 himself with gazing tenderly at it. But the mother should have rather taken charge of the cake. It was cruel to make a Tantalus of the chubby-checked boy.
Meanwhile, the three demoiselles (for the name of dames19 was then reserved for noble women) were all talking at once.
"Let us make haste, Demoiselle Mahiette," said the youngest of the three, who was also the largest, to the provincial, "I greatly fear that we shall arrive too late; they told us at the Chatelet that they were going to take him directly to the pillory21."
"Ah, bah! what are you saying, Demoiselle Oudarde Musnier?" interposed the other Parisienne. "There are two hours yet to the pillory. We have time enough. Have you ever seen any one pilloried22, my dear Mahiette?"
"Yes," said the provincial, "at Reims."
"Ah, bah! What is your pillory at Reims? A miserable23 cage into which only peasants are turned. A great affair, truly!"
"Only peasants!" said Mahiette, "at the cloth market in Reims! We have seen very fine criminals there, who have killed their father and mother! Peasants! For what do you take us, Gervaise?"
It is certain that the provincial was on the point of taking offence, for the honor of her pillory. Fortunately, that discreet24 damoiselle, Oudarde Musnier, turned the conversation in time.
"By the way, Damoiselle Mahiette, what say you to our Flemish Ambassadors? Have you as fine ones at Reims?"
"I admit," replied Mahiette, "that it is only in Paris that such Flemings can be seen."
"Did you see among the embassy, that big ambassador who is a hosier?" asked Oudarde.
"Yes," said Mahiette. "He has the eye of a Saturn25."
"And the big fellow whose face resembles a bare belly26?" resumed Gervaise. "And the little one, with small eyes framed in red eyelids28, pared down and slashed29 up like a thistle head?"
"'Tis their horses that are worth seeing," said Oudarde, "caparisoned as they are after the fashion of their country!"
"Ah my dear," interrupted provincial Mahiette, assuming in her turn an air of superiority, "what would you say then, if you had seen in '61, at the consecration30 at Reims, eighteen years ago, the horses of the princes and of the king's company? Housings and caparisons of all sorts; some of damask cloth, of fine cloth of gold, furred with sables31; others of velvet32, furred with ermine; others all embellished33 with goldsmith's work and large bells of gold and silver! And what money that had cost! And what handsome boy pages rode upon them!"
"That," replied Oudarde dryly, "does not prevent the Flemings having very fine horses, and having had a superb supper yesterday with monsieur, the provost of the merchants, at the H?tel-de-Ville, where they were served with comfits and hippocras, and spices, and other singularities."
"What are you saying, neighbor!" exclaimed Gervaise. "It was with monsieur the cardinal34, at the Petit Bourbon that they supped."
"Not at all. At the H?tel-de-Ville.
"Yes, indeed. At the Petit Bourbon!"
"It was at the H?tel-de-Ville," retorted Oudarde sharply, "and Dr. Scourable addressed them a harangue35 in Latin, which pleased them greatly. My husband, who is sworn bookseller told me."
"It was at the Petit Bourbon," replied Gervaise, with no less spirit, "and this is what monsieur the cardinal's procurator presented to them: twelve double quarts of hippocras, white, claret, and red; twenty-four boxes of double Lyons marchpane, gilded36; as many torches, worth two livres a piece; and six demi-queues* of Beaune wine, white and claret, the best that could be found. I have it from my husband, who is a cinquantenier**, at the Parloir-aux Bourgeois3, and who was this morning comparing the Flemish ambassadors with those of Prester John and the Emperor of Trebizond, who came from Mesopotamia to Paris, under the last king, and who wore rings in their ears."
* A Queue was a cask which held a hogshead and a half.
** A captain of fifty men.
"So true is it that they supped at the H?tel-de-Ville," replied Oudarde but little affected37 by this catalogue, "that such a triumph of viands38 and comfits has never been seen."
"I tell you that they were served by Le Sec, sergeant39 of the city, at the H?tel du Petit-Bourbon, and that that is where you are mistaken."
"At the H?tel-de-Ville, I tell you!"
"At the Petit-Bourbon, my dear! and they had illuminated40 with magic glasses the word hope, which is written on the grand portal."
"At the H?tel-de-Ville! At the H?tel-de-Ville! And Husson-le-Voir played the flute41!"
"I tell you, no!"
"I tell you, yes!"
"I say, no!"
Plump and worthy Oudarde was preparing to retort, and the quarrel might, perhaps, have proceeded to a pulling of caps, had not Mahiette suddenly exclaimed,--"Look at those people assembled yonder at the end of the bridge! There is something in their midst that they are looking at!"
"In sooth," said Gervaise, "I hear the sounds of a tambourine42. I believe 'tis the little Esmeralda, who plays her mummeries with her goat. Eh, be quick, Mahiette! redouble your pace and drag along your boy. You are come hither to visit the curiosities of Paris. You saw the Flemings yesterday; you must see the gypsy to-day."
"The gypsy!" said Mahiette, suddenly retracing43 her steps, and clasping her son's arm forcibly. "God preserve me from it! She would steal my child from me! Come, Eustache!"
And she set out on a run along the quay44 towards the Grève, until she had left the bridge far behind her. In the meanwhile, the child whom she was dragging after her fell upon his knees; she halted breathless. Oudarde and Gervaise rejoined her.
"That gypsy steal your child from you!" said Gervaise. "That's a singular freak of yours!"
Mahiette shook her head with a pensive45 air.
"The singular point is," observed Oudarde, "that ~la sachette~ has the same idea about the Egyptian woman."
"What is ~la sachette~?" asked Mahiette.
"Hé!" said Oudarde, "Sister Gudule."
"And who is Sister Gudule?" persisted Mahiette.
"You are certainly ignorant of all but your Reims, not to know that!" replied Oudarde. "'Tis the recluse46 of the Rat-Hole."
"What!" demanded Mahiette, "that poor woman to whom we are carrying this cake?"
Oudarde nodded affirmatively.
"Precisely47. You will see her presently at her window on the Grève. She has the same opinion as yourself of these vagabonds of Egypt, who play the tambourine and tell fortunes to the public. No one knows whence comes her horror of the gypsies and Egyptians. But you, Mahiette--why do you run so at the mere48 sight of them?"
"Oh!" said Mahiette, seizing her child's round head in both hands, "I don't want that to happen to me which happened to Paquette la Chantefleurie."
"Oh! you must tell us that story, my good Mahiette," said Gervaise, taking her arm.
"Gladly," replied Mahiette, "but you must be ignorant of all but your Paris not to know that! I will tell you then (but 'tis not necessary for us to halt that I may tell you the tale), that Paquette la Chantefleurie was a pretty maid of eighteen when I was one myself, that is to say, eighteen years ago, and 'tis her own fault if she is not to-day, like me, a good, plump, fresh mother of six and thirty, with a husband and a son. However, after the age of fourteen, it was too late! Well, she was the daughter of Guybertant, minstrel of the barges51 at Reims, the same who had played before King Charles VII., at his coronation, when he descended53 our river Vesle from Sillery to Muison, when Madame the Maid of Orleans was also in the boat. The old father died when Paquette was still a mere child; she had then no one but her mother, the sister of M. Pradon, master-brazier and coppersmith in Paris, Rue16 Farm- Garlin, who died last year. You see she was of good family. The mother was a good simple woman, unfortunately, and she taught Paquette nothing but a bit of embroidery54 and toy-making which did not prevent the little one from growing very large and remaining very poor. They both dwelt at Reims, on the river front, Rue de Folle-Peine. Mark this: For I believe it was this which brought misfortune to Paquette. In '61, the year of the coronation of our King Louis XI. whom God preserve! Paquette was so gay and so pretty that she was called everywhere by no other name than "la Chantefleurie"--blossoming song. Poor girl! She had handsome teeth, she was fond of laughing and displaying them. Now, a maid who loves to laugh is on the road to weeping; handsome teeth ruin handsome eyes. So she was la Chantefleurie. She and her mother earned a precarious55 living; they had been very destitute56 since the death of the minstrel; their embroidery did not bring them in more than six farthings a week, which does not amount to quite two eagle liards. Where were the days when Father Guybertant had earned twelve sous parisian, in a single coronation, with a song? One winter (it was in that same year of '61), when the two women had neither fagots nor firewood, it was very cold, which gave la Chantefleurie such a fine color that the men called her Paquette!* and many called her Pàquerette!** and she was ruined.--Eustache, just let me see you bite that cake if you dare!--We immediately perceived that she was ruined, one Sunday when she came to church with a gold cross about her neck. At fourteen years of age! do you see? First it was the young Vicomte de Cormontreuil, who has his bell tower three leagues distant from Reims; then Messire Henri de Triancourt, equerry to the King; then less than that, Chiart de Beaulion, sergeant-at-arms; then, still descending57, Guery Aubergeon, carver to the King; then, Mace58 de Frépus, barber to monsieur the dauphin; then, Thévenin le Moine, King's cook; then, the men growing continually younger and less noble, she fell to Guillaume Racine, minstrel of the hurdy gurdy and to Thierry de Mer, lamplighter. Then, poor Chantefleurie, she belonged to every one: she had reached the last sou of her gold piece. What shall I say to you, my damoiselles? At the coronation, in the same year, '61, 'twas she who made the bed of the king of the debauchees! In the same year!"
* Ox-eye daisy.
** Easter daisy.
Mahiette sighed, and wiped away a tear which trickled59 from her eyes.
"This is no very extraordinary history," said Gervaise, "and in the whole of it I see nothing of any Egyptian women or children."
"Patience!" resumed Mahiette, "you will see one child.--In '66, 'twill be sixteen years ago this month, at Sainte- Paule's day, Paquette was brought to bed of a little girl. The unhappy creature! it was a great joy to her; she had long wished for a child. Her mother, good woman, who had never known what to do except to shut her eyes, her mother was dead. Paquette had no longer any one to love in the world or any one to love her. La Chantefleurie had been a poor creature during the five years since her fall. She was alone, alone in this life, fingers were pointed60 at her, she was hooted61 at in the streets, beaten by the sergeants62, jeered63 at by the little boys in rags. And then, twenty had arrived: and twenty is an old age for amorous64 women. Folly65 began to bring her in no more than her trade of embroidery in former days; for every wrinkle that came, a crown fled; winter became hard to her once more, wood became rare again in her brazier, and bread in her cupboard. She could no longer work because, in becoming voluptuous66, she had grown lazy; and she suffered much more because, in growing lazy, she had become voluptuous. At least, that is the way in which monsieur the cure of Saint-Remy explains why these women are colder and hungrier than other poor women, when they are old."
"Yes," remarked Gervaise, "but the gypsies?"
"One moment, Gervaise!" said Oudarde, whose attention was less impatient. "What would be left for the end if all were in the beginning? Continue, Mahiette, I entreat67 you. That poor Chantefleurie!"
Mahiette went on.
"So she was very sad, very miserable, and furrowed68 her cheeks with tears. But in the midst of her shame, her folly, her debauchery, it seemed to her that she should be less wild, less shameful69, less dissipated, if there were something or some one in the world whom she could love, and who could love her. It was necessary that it should be a child, because only a child could be sufficiently70 innocent for that. She had recognized this fact after having tried to love a thief, the only man who wanted her; but after a short time, she perceived that the thief despised her. Those women of love require either a lover or a child to fill their hearts. Otherwise, they are very unhappy. As she could not have a lover, she turned wholly towards a desire for a child, and as she had not ceased to be pious71, she made her constant prayer to the good God for it. So the good God took pity on her, and gave her a little daughter. I will not speak to you of her joy; it was a fury of tears, and caresses72, and kisses. She nursed her child herself, made swaddling-bands for it out of her coverlet, the only one which she had on her bed, and no longer felt either cold or hunger. She became beautiful once more, in consequence of it. An old maid makes a young mother. Gallantry claimed her once more; men came to see la Chantefleurie; she found customers again for her merchandise, and out of all these horrors she made baby clothes, caps and bibs, bodices with shoulder-straps of lace, and tiny bonnets73 of satin, without even thinking of buying herself another coverlet.--Master Eustache, I have already told you not to eat that cake.--It is certain that little Agnes, that was the child's name, a baptismal name, for it was a long time since la Chantefleurie had had any surname--it is certain that that little one was more swathed in ribbons and embroideries74 than a dauphiness of Dauphiny! Among other things, she had a pair of little shoes, the like of which King Louis XI. certainly never had! Her mother had stitched and embroidered them herself; she had lavished75 on them all the delicacies76 of her art of embroideress, and all the embellishments of a robe for the good Virgin77. They certainly were the two prettiest little pink shoes that could be seen. They were no longer than my thumb, and one had to see the child's little feet come out of them, in order to believe that they had been able to get into them. 'Tis true that those little feet were so small, so pretty, so rosy78! rosier79 than the satin of the shoes! When you have children, Oudarde, you will find that there is nothing prettier than those little hands and feet."
"I ask no better," said Oudarde with a sigh, "but I am waiting until it shall suit the good pleasure of M. Andry Musnier."
"However, Paquette's child had more that was pretty about it besides its feet. I saw her when she was only four months old; she was a love! She had eyes larger than her mouth, and the most charming black hair, which already curled. She would have been a magnificent brunette at the age of sixteen! Her mother became more crazy over her every day. She kissed her, caressed80 her, tickled81 her, washed her, decked her out, devoured82 her! She lost her head over her, she thanked God for her. Her pretty, little rosy feet above all were an endless source of wonderment, they were a delirium83 of joy! She was always pressing her lips to them, and she could never recover from her amazement84 at their smallness. She put them into the tiny shoes, took them out, admired them, marvelled85 at them, looked at the light through them, was curious to see them try to walk on her bed, and would gladly have passed her life on her knees, putting on and taking off the shoes from those feet, as though they had been those of an Infant Jesus."
"The tale is fair and good," said Gervaise in a low tone; "but where do gypsies come into all that?"
"Here," replied Mahiette. "One day there arrived in Reims a very queer sort of people. They were beggars and vagabonds who were roaming over the country, led by their duke and their counts. They were browned by exposure to the sun, they had closely curling hair, and silver rings in their ears. The women were still uglier than the men. They had blacker faces, which were always uncovered, a miserable frock on their bodies, an old cloth woven of cords bound upon their shoulder, and their hair hanging like the tail of a horse. The children who scrambled86 between their legs would have frightened as many monkeys. A band of excommunicates. All these persons came direct from lower Egypt to Reims through Poland. The Pope had confessed them, it was said, and had prescribed to them as penance87 to roam through the world for seven years, without sleeping in a bed; and so they were called penancers, and smelt88 horribly. It appears that they had formerly89 been Saracens, which was why they believed in Jupiter, and claimed ten livres of Tournay from all archbishops, bishops90, and mitred abbots with croziers. A bull from the Pope empowered them to do that. They came to Reims to tell fortunes in the name of the King of Algiers, and the Emperor of Germany. You can readily imagine that no more was needed to cause the entrance to the town to be forbidden them. Then the whole band camped with good grace outside the gate of Braine, on that hill where stands a mill, beside the cavities of the ancient chalk pits. And everybody in Reims vied with his neighbor in going to see them. They looked at your hand, and told you marvellous prophecies; they were equal to predicting to Judas that he would become Pope. Nevertheless, ugly rumors91 were in circulation in regard to them; about children stolen, purses cut, and human flesh devoured. The wise people said to the foolish: "Don't go there!" and then went themselves on the sly. It was an infatuation. The fact is, that they said things fit to astonish a cardinal. Mothers triumphed greatly over their little ones after the Egyptians had read in their hands all sorts of marvels92 written in pagan and in Turkish. One had an emperor; another, a pope; another, a captain. Poor Chantefleurie was seized with curiosity; she wished to know about herself, and whether her pretty little Agnes would not become some day Empress of Armenia, or something else. So she carried her to the Egyptians; and the Egyptian women fell to admiring the child, and to caressing93 it, and to kissing it with their black mouths, and to marvelling94 over its little band, alas95! to the great joy of the mother. They were especially enthusiastic over her pretty feet and shoes. The child was not yet a year old. She already lisped a little, laughed at her mother like a little mad thing, was plump and quite round, and possessed96 a thousand charming little gestures of the angels of paradise.
She was very much frightened by the Egyptians, and wept. But her mother kissed her more warmly and went away enchanted97 with the good fortune which the soothsayers had foretold98 for her Agnes. She was to be a beauty, virtuous99, a queen. So she returned to her attic100 in the Rue Folle-Peine, very proud of bearing with her a queen. The next day she took advantage of a moment when the child was asleep on her bed, (for they always slept together), gently left the door a little way open, and ran to tell a neighbor in the Rue de la Séchesserie, that the day would come when her daughter Agnes would be served at table by the King of England and the Archduke of Ethiopia, and a hundred other marvels. On her return, hearing no cries on the staircase, she said to herself: 'Good! the child is still asleep!' She found her door wider open than she had left it, but she entered, poor mother, and ran to the bed.---The child was no longer there, the place was empty. Nothing remained of the child, but one of her pretty little shoes. She flew out of the room, dashed down the stairs, and began to beat her head against the wall, crying: 'My child! who has my child? Who has taken my child?' The street was deserted101, the house isolated102; no one could tell her anything about it. She went about the town, searched all the streets, ran hither and thither103 the whole day long, wild, beside herself, terrible, snuffing at doors and windows like a wild beast which has lost its young. She was breathless, dishevelled, frightful104 to see, and there was a fire in her eyes which dried her tears. She stopped the passers-by and cried: 'My daughter! my daughter! my pretty little daughter! If any one will give me back my daughter, I will he his servant, the servant of his dog, and he shall eat my heart if he will.' She met M. le Curé of Saint- Remy, and said to him: 'Monsieur, I will till the earth with my finger-nails, but give me back my child!' It was heartrending, Oudarde; and IL saw a very hard man, Master Ponce Lacabre, the procurator, weep. Ah! poor mother! In the evening she returned home. During her absence, a neighbor had seen two gypsies ascend105 up to it with a bundle in their arms, then descend52 again, after closing the door. After their departure, something like the cries of a child were heard in Paquette's room. The mother, burst into shrieks106 of laughter, ascended107 the stairs as though on wings, and entered.--A frightful thing to tell, Oudarde! Instead of her pretty little Agnes, so rosy and so fresh, who was a gift of the good God, a sort of hideous108 little monster, lame109, one-eyed, deformed110, was crawling and squalling over the floor. She hid her eyes in horror. 'Oh!' said she, 'have the witches transformed my daughter into this horrible animal?' They hastened to carry away the little club-foot; he would have driven her mad. It was the monstrous111 child of some gypsy woman, who had given herself to the devil. He appeared to be about four years old, and talked a language which was no human tongue; there were words in it which were impossible. La Chantefleurie flung herself upon the little shoe, all that remained to her of all that she loved. She remained so long motionless over it, mute, and without breath, that they thought she was dead. Suddenly she trembled all over, covered her relic112 with furious kisses, and burst out sobbing113 as though her heart were broken. I assure you that we were all weeping also. She said: 'Oh, my little daughter! my pretty little daughter! where art thou?'--and it wrung114 your very heart. I weep still when I think of it. Our children are the marrow115 of our bones, you see.---My poor Eustache! thou art so fair!--If you only knew how nice he is! yesterday he said to me: 'I want to be a gendarme116, that I do.' Oh! my Eustache! if I were to lose thee!--All at once la Chantefleurie rose, and set out to run through Reims, screaming: 'To the gypsies' camp! to the gypsies' camp! Police, to burn the witches!' The gypsies were gone. It was pitch dark. They could not be followed. On the morrow, two leagues from Reims, on a heath between Gueux and Tilloy, the remains117 of a large fire were found, some ribbons which had belonged to Paquette's child, drops of blood, and the dung of a ram27. The night just past had been a Saturday. There was no longer any doubt that the Egyptians had held their Sabbath on that heath, and that they had devoured the child in company with Beelzebub, as the practice is among the Mahometans. When La Chantefleurie learned these horrible things, she did not weep, she moved her lips as though to speak, but could not. On the morrow, her hair was gray. On the second day, she had disappeared.
"'Tis in truth, a frightful tale," said Oudarde, "and one which would make even a Burgundian weep."
"I am no longer surprised," added Gervaise, "that fear of the gypsies should spur you on so sharply."
"And you did all the better," resumed Oudarde, "to flee with your Eustache just now, since these also are gypsies from Poland."
"No," said Gervais, "'tis said that they come from Spain and Catalonia."
"Catalonia? 'tis possible," replied Oudarde. "Pologne, Catalogue, Valogne, I always confound those three provinces, One thing is certain, that they are gypsies."
"Who certainly," added Gervaise, "have teeth long enough to eat little children. I should not be surprised if la Sméralda ate a little of them also, though she pretends to be dainty. Her white goat knows tricks that are too malicious118 for there not to be some impiety119 underneath120 it all."
Mahiette walked on in silence. She was absorbed in that revery which is, in some sort, the continuation of a mournful tale, and which ends only after having communicated the emotion, from vibration121 to vibration, even to the very last fibres of the heart. Nevertheless, Gervaise addressed her, "And did they ever learn what became of la Chantefleurie?" Mahiette made no reply. Gervaise repeated her question, and shook her arm, calling her by name. Mahiette appeared to awaken122 from her thoughts.
"What became of la Chantefleurie?" she said, repeating mechanically the words whose impression was still fresh in her ear; then, ma king an effort to recall her attention to the meaning of her words, "Ah!" she continued briskly, "no one ever found out."
She added, after a pause,--
"Some said that she had been seen to quit Reims at nightfall by the Fléchembault gate; others, at daybreak, by the old Basée gate. A poor man found her gold cross hanging on the stone cross in the field where the fair is held. It was that ornament123 which had wrought124 her ruin, in '61. It was a gift from the handsome Vicomte de Cormontreuil, her first lover. Paquette had never been willing to part with it, wretched as she had been. She had clung to it as to life itself. So, when we saw that cross abandoned, we all thought that she was dead. Nevertheless, there were people of the Cabaret les Vantes, who said that they had seen her pass along the road to Paris, walking on the pebbles125 with her bare feet. But, in that case, she must have gone out through the Porte de Vesle, and all this does not agree. Or, to speak more truly, I believe that she actually did depart by the Porte de Vesle, but departed from this world."
"I do not understand you," said Gervaise.
"La Vesle," replied Mahiette, with a melancholy126 smile, "is the river."
"Poor Chantefleurie!" said Oudarde, with a shiver,--"drowned!"
"Drowned!" resumed Mahiette, "who could have told good Father Guybertant, when he passed under the bridge of Tingueux with the current, singing in his barge50, that one day his dear little Paquette would also pass beneath that bridge, but without song or boat.
"And the little shoe?" asked Gervaise.
"Disappeared with the mother," replied Mahiette.
"Poor little shoe!" said Oudarde.
Oudarde, a big and tender woman, would have been well pleased to sigh in company with Mahiette. But Gervaise, more curious, had not finished her questions.
"And the monster?" she said suddenly, to Mahiette.
"What monster?" inquired the latter.
"The little gypsy monster left by the sorceresses in Chantefleurie's chamber127, in exchange for her daughter. What did you do with it? I hope you drowned it also."
"No." replied Mahiette.
"What? You burned it then? In sooth, that is more just. A witch child!"
"Neither the one nor the other, Gervaise. Monseigneur the archbishop interested himself in the child of Egypt, exorcised it, blessed it, removed the devil carefully from its body, and sent it to Paris, to be exposed on the wooden bed at Notre- Dame20, as a foundling."
"Those bishops!" grumbled128 Gervaise, "because they are learned, they do nothing like anybody else. I just put it to you, Oudarde, the idea of placing the devil among the foundlings! For that little monster was assuredly the devil. Well, Mahiette, what did they do with it in Paris? I am quite sure that no charitable person wanted it."
"I do not know," replied the Rémoise, "'twas just at that time that my husband bought the office of notary, at Bern, two leagues from the town, and we were no longer occupied with that story; besides, in front of Bern, stand the two hills of Cernay, which hide the towers of the cathedral in Reims from view."
While chatting thus, the three worthy ~bourgeoises~ had arrived at the Place de Grève. In their absorption, they had passed the public breviary of the Tour-Roland without stopping, and took their way mechanically towards the pillory around which the throng129 was growing more dense130 with every moment. It is probable that the spectacle which at that moment attracted all looks in that direction, would have made them forget completely the Rat-Hole, and the halt which they intended to make there, if big Eustache, six years of age, whom Mahiette was dragging along by the hand, had not abruptly132 recalled the object to them: "Mother," said he, as though some instinct warned him that the Rat-Hole was behind him, "can I eat the cake now?"
If Eustache had been more adroit133, that is to say, less greedy, he would have continued to wait, and would only have hazarded that simple question, "Mother, can I eat the cake, now?" on their return to the University, to Master Andry Musnier's, Rue Madame la Valence, when he had the two arms of the Seine and the five bridges of the city between the Rat-Hole and the cake.
This question, highly imprudent at the moment when Eustache put it, aroused Mahiette's attention.
"By the way," she exclaimed, "we are forgetting the recluse! Show me the Rat-Hole, that I may carry her her cake."
"Immediately," said Oudarde, "'tis a charity."
But this did not suit Eustache.
"Stop! my cake!" said he, rubbing both ears alternatively with his shoulders, which, in such cases, is the supreme134 sign of discontent.
The three women retraced135 their steps, and, on arriving in the vicinity of the Tour-Roland, Oudarde said to the other two,--
"We must not all three gaze into the hole at once, for fear of alarming the recluse. Do you two pretend to read the _Dominus_ in the breviary, while I thrust my nose into the aperture136; the recluse knows me a little. I will give you warning when you can approach."
She proceeded alone to the window. At the moment when she looked in, a profound pity was depicted137 on all her features, and her frank, gay visage altered its expression and color as abruptly as though it had passed from a ray of sunlight to a ray of moonlight; her eye became humid; her mouth contracted, like that of a person on the point of weeping. A moment later, she laid her finger on her lips, and made a sign to Mahiette to draw near and look.
Mahiette, much touched, stepped up in silence, on tiptoe, as though approaching the bedside of a dying person.
It was, in fact, a melancholy spectacle which presented itself to the eyes of the two women, as they gazed through the grating of the Rat-Hole, neither stirring nor breathing.
The cell was small, broader than it was long, with an arched ceiling, and viewed from within, it bore a considerable resemblance to the interior of a huge bishop's mitre. On the bare flagstones which formed the floor, in one corner, a woman was sitting, or rather, crouching138. Her chin rested on her knees, which her crossed arms pressed forcibly to her breast. Thus doubled up, clad in a brown sack, which enveloped139 her entirely140 in large folds, her long, gray hair pulled over in front, falling over her face and along her legs nearly to her feet, she presented, at the first glance, only a strange form outlined against the dark background of the cell, a sort of dusky triangle, which the ray of daylight falling through the opening, cut roughly into two shades, the one sombre, the other illuminated. It was one of those spectres, half light, half shadow, such as one beholds141 in dreams and in the extraordinary work of Goya, pale, motionless, sinister142, crouching over a tomb, or leaning against the grating of a prison cell.
It was neither a woman, nor a man, nor a living being, nor a definite form; it was a figure, a sort of vision, in which the real and the fantastic intersected each other, like darkness and day. It was with difficulty that one distinguished143, beneath her hair which spread to the ground, a gaunt and severe profile; her dress barely allowed the extremity144 of a bare foot to escape, which contracted on the hard, cold pavement. The little of human form of which one caught a sight beneath this envelope of mourning, caused a shudder145.
That figure, which one might have supposed to be riveted146 to the flagstones, appeared to possess neither movement, nor thought, nor breath. Lying, in January, in that thin, linen147 sack, lying on a granite148 floor, without fire, in the gloom of a cell whose oblique149 air-hole allowed only the cold breeze, but never the sun, to enter from without, she did not appear to suffer or even to think. One would have said that she had turned to stone with the cell, ice with the season. Her hands were clasped, her eyes fixed150. At first sight one took her for a spectre; at the second, for a statue.
Nevertheless, at intervals151, her blue lips half opened to admit a breath, and trembled, but as dead and as mechanical as the leaves which the wind sweeps aside.
Nevertheless, from her dull eyes there escaped a look, an ineffable152 look, a profound, lugubrious153, imperturbable154 look, incessantly155 fixed upon a corner of the cell which could not be seen from without; a gaze which seemed to fix all the sombre thoughts of that soul in distress156 upon some mysterious object.
Such was the creature who had received, from her habitation, the name of the "recluse"; and, from her garment, the name of "the sacked nun157."
The three women, for Gervaise had rejoined Mahiette and Oudarde, gazed through the window. Their heads intercepted158 the feeble light in the cell, without the wretched being whom they thus deprived of it seeming to pay any attention to them. "Do not let us trouble her," said Oudarde, in a low voice, "she is in her ecstasy159; she is praying."
Meanwhile, Mahiette was gazing with ever-increasing anxiety at that wan49, withered160, dishevelled head, and her eyes filled with tears. "This is very singular," she murmured.
She thrust her head through the bars, and succeeded in casting a glance at the corner where the gaze of the unhappy woman was immovably riveted.
When she withdrew her head from the window, her countenance161 was inundated162 with tears.
"What do you call that woman?" she asked Oudarde.
Oudarde replied,--
"We call her Sister Gudule."
"And I," returned Mahiette, "call her Paquette la Chantefleurie."
Then, laying her finger on her lips, she motioned to the astounded163 Oudarde to thrust her head through the window and look.
Oudarde looked and beheld164, in the corner where the eyes of the recluse were fixed in that sombre ecstasy, a tiny shoe of pink satin, embroidered with a thousand fanciful designs in gold and silver.
Gervaise looked after Oudarde, and then the three women, gazing upon the unhappy mother, began to weep.
But neither their looks nor their tears disturbed the recluse. Her hands remained clasped; her lips mute; her eyes fixed; and that little shoe, thus gazed at, broke the heart of any one who knew her history.
The three women had not yet uttered a single word; they dared not speak, even in a low voice. This deep silence, this deep grief, this profound oblivion in which everything had disappeared except one thing, produced upon them the effect of the grand altar at Christmas or Easter. They remained silent, they meditated165, they were ready to kneel. It seemed to them that they were ready to enter a church on the day of Tenebrae.
At length Gervaise, the most curious of the three, and consequently the least sensitive, tried to make the recluse speak:
"Sister! Sister Gudule!"
She repeated this call three times, raising her voice each time. The recluse did not move; not a word, not a glance, not a sigh, not a sign of life.
Oudarde, in her turn, in a sweeter, more caressing voice,--"Sister!" said she, "Sister Sainte-Gudule!"
The same silence; the same immobility.
"A singular woman!" exclaimed Gervaise, "and one not to be moved by a catapult!"
"Perchance she is deaf," said Oudarde.
"Perhaps she is blind," added Gervaise.
"Dead, perchance," returned Mahiette.
It is certain that if the soul had not already quitted this inert166, sluggish167, lethargic168 body, it had at least retreated and concealed169 itself in depths whither the perceptions of the exterior170 organs no longer penetrated171.
"Then we must leave the cake on the window," said Oudarde; "some scamp will take it. What shall we do to rouse her?"
Eustache, who, up to that moment had been diverted by a little carriage drawn by a large dog, which had just passed, suddenly perceived that his three conductresses were gazing at something through the window, and, curiosity taking possession of him in his turn, he climbed upon a stone post, elevated himself on tiptoe, and applied172 his fat, red face to the opening, shouting, "Mother, let me see too!"
At the sound of this clear, fresh, ringing child's voice, the recluse trembled; she turned her head with the sharp, abrupt131 movement of a steel spring, her long, fleshless hands cast aside the hair from her brow, and she fixed upon the child, bitter, astonished, desperate eyes. This glance was but a lightning flash.
"Oh my God!" she suddenly exclaimed, hiding her head on her knees, and it seemed as though her hoarse173 voice tore her chest as it passed from it, "do not show me those of others!"
"Good day, madam," said the child, gravely.
Nevertheless, this shock had, so to speak, awakened174 the recluse. A long shiver traversed her frame from head to foot; her teeth chattered175; she half raised her head and said, pressing her elbows against her hips, and clasping her feet in her hands as though to warm them,--
"Oh, how cold it is!"
"Poor woman!" said Oudarde, with great compassion176, "would you like a little fire?"
She shook her head in token of refusal.
"Well," resumed Oudarde, presenting her with a flagon; "here is some hippocras which will warm you; drink it."
Again she shook her head, looked at Oudarde fixedly177 and replied, "Water."
Oudarde persisted,--"No, sister, that is no beverage178 for January. You must drink a little hippocras and eat this leavened179 cake of maize180, which we have baked for you."
She refused the cake which Mahiette offered to her, and said, "Black bread."
"Come," said Gervaise, seized in her turn with an impulse of charity, and unfastening her woolen181 cloak, "here is a cloak which is a little warmer than yours."
She refused the cloak as she had refused the flagon and the cake, and replied, "A sack."
"But," resumed the good Oudarde, "you must have perceived to some extent, that yesterday was a festival."
"I do perceive it," said the recluse; "'tis two days now since I have had any water in my crock."
She added, after a silence, "'Tis a festival, I am forgotten. People do well. Why should the world think of me, when I do not think of it? Cold charcoal182 makes cold ashes."
And as though fatigued183 with having said so much, she dropped her head on her knees again. The simple and charitable Oudarde, who fancied that she understood from her last words that she was complaining of the cold, replied innocently, "Then you would like a little fire?"
"Fire!" said the sacked nun, with a strange accent; "and will you also make a little for the poor little one who has been beneath the sod for these fifteen years?"
Every limb was trembling, her voice quivered, her eyes flashed, she had raised herself upon her knees; suddenly she extended her thin, white hand towards the child, who was regarding her with a look of astonishment184. "Take away that child!" she cried. "The Egyptian woman is about to pass by."
Then she fell face downward on the earth, and her forehead struck the stone, with the sound of one stone against another stone. The three women thought her dead. A moment later, however, she moved, and they beheld her drag herself, on her knees and elbows, to the corner where the little shoe was. Then they dared not look; they no longer saw her; but they heard a thousand kisses and a thousand sighs, mingled185 with heartrending cries, and dull blows like those of a head in contact with a wall. Then, after one of these blows, so violent that all three of them staggered, they heard no more.
"Can she have killed herself?" said Gervaise, venturing to pass her head through the air-hole. "Sister! Sister Gudule!"
"Sister Gudule!" repeated Oudarde.
"Ah! good heavens! she no longer moves!" resumed Gervaise; "is she dead? Gudule! Gudule!"
Mahiette, choked to such a point that she could not speak, made an effort. "Wait," said she. Then bending towards the window, "Paquette!" she said, "Paquette le Chantefleurie!"
A child who innocently blows upon the badly ignited fuse of a bomb, and makes it explode in his face, is no more terrified than was Mahiette at the effect of that name, abruptly launched into the cell of Sister Gudule.
The recluse trembled all over, rose erect186 on her bare feet, and leaped at the window with eyes so glaring that Mahiette and Oudarde, and the other woman and the child recoiled187 even to the parapet of the quay.
Meanwhile, the sinister face of the recluse appeared pressed to the grating of the air-hole. "Oh! oh!" she cried, with an appalling188 laugh; "'tis the Egyptian who is calling me!"
At that moment, a scene which was passing at the pillory caught her wild eye. Her brow contracted with horror, she stretched her two skeleton arms from her cell, and shrieked189 in a voice which resembled a death-rattle, "So 'tis thou once more, daughter of Egypt! 'Tis thou who callest me, stealer of children! Well! Be thou accursed! accursed! accursed! accursed!"
发生这段故事的时期，罗兰塔的小屋里是住着人的。假若读者想知道住在那里的是谁，只需听听这三位好朋友的谈话就行了。在我们请您注意老鼠洞的时刻，她们恰好沿着河岸从沙特雷门向格雷沃广场走去。
这三位妇女中有两位穿着有身分的巴黎妇女的服装。她们那精美的白围巾，她们那红蓝条花的麻毛混纺的裙子，她们那紧紧裹着腿肚、脚踝的彩色绣花的白丝袜，她们那黑底方头的黄皮鞋，尤其是她们的帽子，就象如今的乡村妇女和俄国近卫军掷弹兵戴的帽角上装饰着丝带和花边的那一种，这些都表明她们是属于富裕的商妇阶层，是介于仆役们称之为“太太”和“夫人”
之间的女人。她们并没有带戒指和金十字架，但也容易看出那并非由于穷苦，而是因为她们天真地害怕罚款罢了。她们的同伴和她们的打扮差不多，可是她的装束和姿态却有某种一看就知道是外地人的气派。从她把腰带束在腰部以上的样儿，就看得出她到巴黎还没有多久，何况还有她那打褶的围巾，鞋上的缎带结子，裙子条纹是横的而不是直的，以及其他区别于高雅趣味的荒谬之处。
为首的两个用巴黎妇女领着外省妇女参观巴黎的特别步伐向前行走。那个外省妇女手里搀着一个胖男孩，男孩手里拿着一大块饼。
很抱歉，我们必须说明，他因为感到天气很冷，就用手巾把嘴捂着。
孩子落在后头，象维吉尔说的“迈着摇晃不稳的步子”，并且老是跌跤，急得他母亲大声叫喊。事实上他只管盯住烙饼，根本没看石板路。显然有什么重大理由使他不敢把那块饼咬一口，因为他只不过温柔地看着它罢了。但那位母亲本来应该亲手拿着那块饼的，把胖小鬼弄成了一个坦塔罗斯可有点残忍呢。
这时那三位太太（因为“夫人”这个称呼只能用于贵族妇女）同时说起话来。
“我们得赶快，马耶特太太，”三人中那个最年轻也最胖的对那个外省来的说道，“我担心我们会到得太迟哪。我们在沙特雷城门口就听说马上就要把他带到刑台上去了。”
“啊，啐！你说什么呀，乌达德·米斯尼哀太太？”另外那个巴黎女人说，“他要在刑台上待两个钟头呢，我们还赶得上。你看见过刑台吗，亲爱的马耶特？”
“看见过的，”那外地女人说，“在兰斯。”
“啊啐！你那兰斯的刑台什么样儿？那不过是一只罚乡巴佬示众的破笼子罢了。这算得什么大不了的玩意！”
“乡巴佬的！”马耶特说，“兰斯的绸布商场的刑台上我们可见识过体面的犯人呢，都是谋杀父母的哟！你说是乡巴佬！你把我们当成什么人啦，吉尔维斯？”
那外地女人为了维护她那刑台的荣誉，差点要发脾气了。幸好小心的乌达德及时掉转了话头。
“那么，马耶特太太，你认为我们那些弗朗德勒使臣怎么样？你们兰斯也有这么漂亮的使臣吗？”
“我承认，”马耶特回答，“只有在巴黎才能看见这么漂亮的弗朗德勒人。”
“你看见那些使臣中间那位胖子袜店老板吗？”乌达德问道。
“看见了，”马耶特回答，“他的神气活象个萨蒂纳。”
“还看见了那个脸孔象个大肚皮的胖子吗？”吉尔维斯问，“还有那个小眼睛，红眼皮，胡子拉碴象只刺猬的小矮个儿？”
“他们的马多好看呀，”乌达德说，“全都是照他们自己国家的方式打扮的！”
“啊，亲爱的，”外地来的马耶特也神气地说道，“要是你在六一年——就是十八年前举行加冕礼的时期，在兰斯看见了王子们和王室侍从们的那些马匹，你又会怎么说呢？它们有各种各样的马鞍和装饰品，有些是用大马士革布做的，有些是用金色细布做的，还镶着黑貂皮；有些是用天鹅绒做的，灰鼠皮衬里；还有些镶着珠宝，挂着大大的金铃银铃。那要值多少钱呀！坐在马上的随从都是多么漂亮的小伙子！”
“那，”乌达德干巴巴地说，“也比不上昨天弗朗德勒使臣们骑的马漂亮！他们是到总督府去赴商会会长的晚宴的，给他们准备了葡萄酒、糖果、蜜饯和许多别的美味。”
“你说什么，我的邻居？”吉尔维斯嚷道，“弗朗德勒使臣们是由红衣主教大人在小波旁府邸招待晚餐的呀。”
“不对。是在总督府。”
“确实是在小波旁！”
“当然是在总督府，”乌达德尖刻地说，“斯古阿伯尔博士还用一番拉丁话向他们致词来着，他们听得很满意呢。这是我那当书店老板的丈夫告诉我的。”
“当然是在小波旁，”吉尔维斯同样激动地说道，“红衣主教大人的会计还送了他们十二夸尔掺混着玫瑰露的白葡萄酒，二十四只里昂镀金衣箱，许多每支两磅重的火炬，六桶半波纳酒，那种又白又清亮的再好不过的酒。
我想这是真的。我是从我丈夫那儿听说的，他是五十个接待员里面的一个，他今天早上还把他们同勃雷特·让以及特莱比绒德皇帝的那些使臣比较来着，那些人是在前一个朝代从美索不达米亚到巴黎来的，耳朵上都戴着金环。”
“他们的的确确是在总督府吃的晚饭，”乌达德说，有点被刚才那些炫耀的话激怒了，“人们从来没见过那么多的酒肉和糖果呢。”
“我告诉你，我说他们是由城里军警护卫着在小波旁大厦用晚餐的，是你弄错了！”
“是在总督府，我告诉你！”
“是在小波旁，亲爱的！魔术般的玻璃灯还照见了写在大门道里的‘希望’两个字呢。”
“是在总督府，是在总督府！于松·勒瓦尔还吹了笛子呢！”
“我告诉你不是这样！”
“我告诉你是这样！”
“我告诉你不是这样！”
好心的肥胖的乌达德还打算再争论下去，她们的口角眼看要尖锐化了，要不是马耶特突然喊道：“瞧那边桥头上挤着多少人呀！他们好象围在那儿瞧什么呢。”
“真的呢，”吉尔维斯说，“我听见小鼓的声音，我想那是小爱斯梅拉达同她的小羊在表演滑稽戏了。赶快，马耶特！加快脚步拽着你的儿子跑吧！
你到巴黎来就是为了看热闹的，你昨天看过弗朗德勒使臣们，今天该看一看埃及姑娘了。”
“埃及姑娘！”马耶特说，一面紧紧抓住她儿子的胳膊急匆匆地赶路，“上帝保佑我吧！她会把我的儿子拐去的呀！来，厄斯达谢！”
她从码头上朝格雷沃广场跑去，直到远远离开了那座桥。这时她拽着跑的孩子跌倒了，她这才喘着气停住脚步。乌达德和吉尔维斯也赶上了她。
“埃及姑娘会拐走你的孩子！”吉尔维斯说，“你这个想法真是古怪！”
马耶特若有所思地摇摇头。
“更古怪的是，”乌达德说，“那个教姊对埃及女人也有这种看法。”
“你说的是哪一个教姊？”马耶特问道。
“呃！”乌达德说，“就是居第尔教姊呀！”
“谁呀？”马耶特又问，“谁是居第尔教姊？”
“你真是个地道的兰斯人，连这也不知道！”乌达德回答，“就是‘老鼠洞’里的隐修女呀！”
“怎么！”马耶特问，“就是我们要给她送饼去的那个女人吗？”乌达德点点头表示肯定。
“正是这样。你马上就会在格雷沃广场那个小窗口上看见她了。对于那些敲着手鼓给人算命的埃及流浪人，她的看法同你一样。不知道她怎么会害怕吉普赛人和埃及人的。可是你呢，马耶特，你为什么一听说埃及人、吉普赛人就掉转脚跟跑开呀？”
“啊，”马耶特双手捧着她孩子的圆脑袋说，“我不愿遭遇到巴格特·拉·尚特孚勒里遭遇过的事。”
“啊，看来你要给我们讲一个故事了，我的好马耶特。”吉尔维斯拉着她的胳膊说。
“我很愿意，”马耶特回答道，“但你真是个地道的巴黎人，连这也不知道！那就让我来告诉你吧。可是我们不能因为讲这个故事就停住不走。巴格特·拉·尚特孚勒里是个十八岁的漂亮姑娘，那时我也才十八岁，就是说十八年以前，她如今不是象我这样丰满鲜活的三十六岁的有丈夫有孩子的母亲，那是她自己的过错。并且从十四岁就开了头，那也太早啦！她是兰斯船上提琴手居倍尔多的女儿。当查理七世行加冕礼的时候，国王乘船由我们的维斯尔河顺流而下，从西耶里到米松去，在国王面前拉提琴的就是他，当时比塞尔太太也在那只船上。老父亲死去的时候，巴格特还是个小孩，从此她就只有母亲了。她母亲是马蒂厄·布拉东先生的妹妹。马蒂厄·布拉东是巴黎的巴亨卡兰街上一个黄铜器商人和锅匠，去年才过世。你看她倒是个好人家出身的。她母亲是个善良的女人，只教巴格特学做点针线活和玩具，总算把小姑娘养得挺壮实，但他们依旧是十分穷苦。她俩孤苦地住在兰斯城沿河的一条名为‘困难过多街’上。请注意，我想这就是使巴格特倒霉的原因。
在六一年，就是上帝保佑的我王路易十一行加冕礼的那一年，巴格特已经长得十分活泼漂亮，大家光叫她尚特孚勒里了。可怜的姑娘！她的牙齿很漂亮，她总爱笑，好让人瞧见她的牙齿。可是，爱笑的姑娘就会爱哭，漂亮牙齿往往使眼睛受苦。尚特孚勒里就是这样。她同她母亲一道挣钱过着苦日子。自从提琴手死后，她们家就败下来了，她们做的针线活每礼拜顶多才给她们赚到六个德尼埃，全部只够换两个金币，她父亲居倍尔多在加冕礼的时期拉一次提琴唱一曲歌就能赚到十二德尼埃的日子再也没有哪。那年冬天，就是六一年的冬天，这两个女人既没有木块也没有柴火来生火，天气却冷得要命，尚特孚勒里的脸色红得更好看了，男人都喊她：‘巴格特！’有些人还叫她：‘巴格丽特！’她就这样堕落啦。厄斯达谢，我看你要咬那块饼了！我们在一个礼拜天看见她胸前佩着个金十字架上教堂去，就明白她堕落了。一个十四岁的姑娘呀，你想想！第一个情人是果尔芒特耶子爵，他的城堡在离兰斯三哩的地方。第二个是亨利·德·特里安古，国王的骑士。第三个职位低些，是个带徽章的执达吏。往下数去，还有国王的能干仆役居耶里·阿倍雍，太子殿下的理发师马塞·德·佛雷比，大厨师代勿南·勒·慕昂。此外还有年纪更大身分更卑微的人，她落到了年老的流浪歌手居约姆·拉新和掌灯人提耶里·德·梅尔的手里。于是可怜的尚特孚勒里成了每个人的情妇。她的金币已经不值钱了。我还能给你们讲什么呢，太太们？就在国王举行加冕礼的那同一个六一年，她给一个流氓头儿铺床叠被哪！就在那同一年呀！”
马耶特叹息着，揩掉滴下的眼泪。
“这个故事算不上怎么别致呀，”吉尔维斯说，“我也看不出它同埃及姑娘和孩子们有什么相干。”
“耐心听吧！”马耶特说，“说到孩子，你会听我讲到一个孩子的。在六六年，就在距离本月份的圣保尔节十六年以前，巴格特生下了一个女儿。
不幸的女人，她高兴极了，她早就盼望生个孩子。她的母亲，那一直闭着眼什么都不知道的好女人，已经死去了，巴格特在这个世界上已经没有谁可以爱，也没有谁爱她了。自从堕落之后，五年来她一直是个悲惨的人儿，可怜的尚特孚勒里，她是孤单的，她孤苦零丁地过活，被人指指点点，在大街上被人叫骂，被军警殴打，被那些破衣烂衫的小男孩作弄。接着她满了二十岁。
二十岁，这个年龄对于恋爱的女人来说已经太老了，除了经常做的针线活之外，她那种生活什么也没有带给她。来了一条皱纹，就去了一个银币。冬天对于她又艰难起来，她的火炉里又没有木柴，食橱里又没有面包了。她再也不能干活，因为自从过着放荡生活以来，她就变懒了。她的伤感更加多起来，因为自从变懒以来她就放荡了。至少圣雷米的本堂教士先生在解释那一类女人为什么到老年就比别的穷女人更加挨冻受饿的时候就是这么说的。”
“是哪，”吉尔维斯提醒说，“但是埃及人在哪儿呢？”
“等一会呀，吉尔维斯！”比较有耐心的乌达德说，“假若一切都要从头讲起，那得什么时候才讲得完呢？讲下去吧，马耶特，为了那可怜的尚特孚勒里，我求你讲下去呀！”
马耶特又接着讲下去：“她弄得很伤心，很可怜，常常哭泣，哭得两颊都陷下去了。但是在她那耻辱、疯癫和被唾弃的处境中，假若世界上还有某件事物或某个人能被她所爱也能够爱她，她就会觉得好象不是那么耻辱、那么疯癫和那么被人唾弃了。那只能是一个孩子，只有一个孩子能够对她的底细一无所知。在试着去爱一个小偷——那唯一愿意要她的男人以后，她才体会到这一点的，因为没有多久她就发现连那个小偷也瞧不起她。对于这一类把爱情当生命的女人，必须有个爱人或是孩子去充实她们的心，要不然她们就非常不幸。不能够有爱人，她便回过头来只希望有个孩子。因为她向来就很虔诚，她便不断地向慈悲的上帝祷告。上帝怜悯她，给了她一个女儿。她那份快乐呀，我不用说你们也想象得出，又是眼泪，又是爱抚，又是亲吻。她亲自奶她的孩子，把自己床上唯一的一条被子给她做襁褓，而且从此再也感觉不到饥饿寒冷了。
她重新变得漂亮起来，一个老姑娘变成了一位年轻的母亲。她又向人献起殷勤来了，人们又来找尚特孚勒里了，她又给自己的生意找到了主顾。她把从这些可怕的事情里得来的钱全都花费来给她的小孩买小衫小帽，丝带和丝头巾，倒没有想给自己买一床被子。厄斯达谢先生，我早就告诉过你不要吃那块饼。那小阿涅丝——这是那小姑娘的名字，也是她自己受洗礼时的名字，是她自己家族的一个名字，她已经很久不用这个名字了。那小家伙的装束确实比一位公主还要华丽，一身的丝带和花边！尤其是那双小鞋，连国王路易十一都决不会有那么好的东西呢！那是当母亲的亲手给她做的，她用她那种给慈悲的圣母做袍子的最精巧的手工和最好的刺绣来做这双鞋。那真是从没见过的最可爱的一双小鞋了。它们才有我的大拇指这么点长。除非看见那小孩的小脚从鞋里脱出来，你才能相信那双小脚穿得进那双小鞋里去。那双脚的确是十分小巧，十分好看，那么粉红粉红的，比做那鞋的缎子还要红得好看！当你有了孩子的时候，乌达德，你就会明白再没有什么比那些小脚小手更好看的了！”
“我不想望比这更好的事啦！”乌达德叹口气说，“我但愿安得里·米斯尼哀先生能有这种福气。”
“并且，”马耶特又说，“巴格特的孩子不光是一双脚漂亮，我看见她的时候她才四个月，她真可爱！她的眼睛比嘴还大。最可爱的是一头黑发，那时就已开始鬈起来了。到十六岁的时候，一定会是顶好的棕色。她母亲一天比一天更加发疯般爱她，她抚摸她，摇晃她，亲她，给她洗澡，同她玩，差点想把她吞下肚去。她为了她快乐得昏头昏脑，她为了她感谢上帝。尤其那双玫瑰色的小脚没完没了地引起她的惊奇，使她快乐到了极点。她常常把嘴唇贴在那小小的脚上舍不得放开。她给它们穿上小小的鞋，穿上又脱下，崇拜着，叹赏着，端详着，就这样度过整整一天。她让那双小脚可怜巴巴地在床上学迈步，她情愿一辈子跪在那双高贵的小脚前穿鞋脱鞋，好象那就是圣婴耶稣的小脚似的。”
“这个故事很动人很好，”吉尔维斯低声说，“可是在整个故事里我们的埃及人在哪儿呢？”
“在这儿，”马耶特答道，“有一天，好些奇形怪状的人骑着马到兰斯城来了。那是在全国各地流浪的乞丐和无赖汉，由他们的公爵和伯爵带领着。
他们脸色发黑，头发鬈曲，耳朵上戴着银耳环。妇女比男人更丑，脸色也更黑，头上总是什么也不戴，身上穿着破衣裳，肩头披着旧披巾，头发象马尾巴一样。那些在她们膝前爬来爬去的小孩，连猴子看见了都会害怕。真是一群和普通人完全不同的人。这些人从波兰经过下埃及一直来到了兰斯。听大家说，是罗马教皇罚他们在全世界不停地流浪七年，不许睡在床上，让他们这样来忏悔自已
收听单词发音 |
1
epoch
|
|
| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
bourgeois
|
|
| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
embroidered
|
|
| adj．绣花的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
tawny
|
|
| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
champagne
|
|
| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
lackeys
|
|
| n.听差( lackey的名词复数 )；男仆（通常穿制服）；卑躬屈膝的人；被待为奴仆的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
attired
|
|
| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
provincial
|
|
| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
notary
|
|
| n.公证人，公证员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
hips
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
vertically
|
|
| adv.垂直地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
rigor
|
|
| n.严酷，严格，严厉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
rue
|
|
| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
dames
|
|
| n.（在英国）夫人（一种封号），夫人（爵士妻子的称号）( dame的名词复数 )；女人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
dame
|
|
| n.女士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
pillory
|
|
| n.嘲弄；v.使受公众嘲笑；将…示众 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
pilloried
|
|
| v.使受公众嘲笑( pillory的过去式和过去分词 )；将…示众；给…上颈手枷；处…以枷刑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
discreet
|
|
| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
Saturn
|
|
| n.农神，土星 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
belly
|
|
| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
ram
|
|
| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
slashed
|
|
| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
consecration
|
|
| n.供献，奉献，献祭仪式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
sables
|
|
| n.紫貂( sable的名词复数 )；紫貂皮；阴暗的；暗夜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
embellished
|
|
| v.美化( embellish的过去式和过去分词 )；装饰；修饰；润色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
cardinal
|
|
| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
harangue
|
|
| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
gilded
|
|
| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
viands
|
|
| n.食品，食物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
sergeant
|
|
| n.警官，中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
flute
|
|
| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
tambourine
|
|
| n.铃鼓，手鼓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
retracing
|
|
| v.折回( retrace的现在分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
quay
|
|
| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
pensive
|
|
| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
recluse
|
|
| n.隐居者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
wan
|
|
| (wide area network)广域网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
barge
|
|
| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
barges
|
|
| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
embroidery
|
|
| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
precarious
|
|
| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
destitute
|
|
| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
descending
|
|
| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
mace
|
|
| n.狼牙棒，豆蔻干皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
trickled
|
|
| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
hooted
|
|
| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
sergeants
|
|
| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
jeered
|
|
| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
amorous
|
|
| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
voluptuous
|
|
| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
entreat
|
|
| v.恳求，恳请 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
furrowed
|
|
| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
shameful
|
|
| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
pious
|
|
| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
caresses
|
|
| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
bonnets
|
|
| n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 )；（烟囱等的）覆盖物；（苏格兰男子的）无边呢帽；（女子戴的）任何一种帽子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
embroideries
|
|
| 刺绣( embroidery的名词复数 )； 刺绣品； 刺绣法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
lavished
|
|
| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
delicacies
|
|
| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
virgin
|
|
| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
rosier
|
|
| Rosieresite | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
caressed
|
|
| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
tickled
|
|
| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
devoured
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
delirium
|
|
| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
marvelled
|
|
| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
scrambled
|
|
| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
penance
|
|
| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
smelt
|
|
| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
bishops
|
|
| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
rumors
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
marvels
|
|
| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
caressing
|
|
| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
marvelling
|
|
| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
enchanted
|
|
| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
foretold
|
|
| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
virtuous
|
|
| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
attic
|
|
| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
ascend
|
|
| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
shrieks
|
|
| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
lame
|
|
| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
deformed
|
|
| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
relic
|
|
| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
sobbing
|
|
| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
wrung
|
|
| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
marrow
|
|
| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
gendarme
|
|
| n.宪兵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
malicious
|
|
| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
impiety
|
|
| n.不敬；不孝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
vibration
|
|
| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
awaken
|
|
| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
ornament
|
|
| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
pebbles
|
|
| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
grumbled
|
|
| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
adroit
|
|
| adj.熟练的，灵巧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
retraced
|
|
| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
aperture
|
|
| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
depicted
|
|
| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
crouching
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
beholds
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的第三人称单数 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
riveted
|
|
| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
granite
|
|
| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
oblique
|
|
| adj.斜的，倾斜的，无诚意的，不坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
ineffable
|
|
| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
lugubrious
|
|
| adj.悲哀的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
imperturbable
|
|
| adj.镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
nun
|
|
| n.修女，尼姑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
intercepted
|
|
| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
inundated
|
|
| v.淹没( inundate的过去式和过去分词 )；（洪水般地）涌来；充满；给予或交予（太多事物）使难以应付 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
astounded
|
|
| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
meditated
|
|
| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
inert
|
|
| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
sluggish
|
|
| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
lethargic
|
|
| adj.昏睡的，懒洋洋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
exterior
|
|
| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
chattered
|
|
| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
beverage
|
|
| n.(水，酒等之外的)饮料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
leavened
|
|
| adj.加酵母的v.使（面团）发酵( leaven的过去式和过去分词 )；在…中掺入改变的因素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
maize
|
|
| n.玉米 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
woolen
|
|
| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
charcoal
|
|
| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
fatigued
|
|
| adj. 疲乏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
recoiled
|
|
| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
appalling
|
|
| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
shrieked
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |