In the Middle Ages, when an edifice1 was complete, there was almost as much of it in the earth as above it. Unless built upon piles, like Notre-Dame, a palace, a fortress2, a church, had always a double bottom. In cathedrals, it was, in some sort, another subterranean3 cathedral, low, dark, mysterious, blind, and mute, under the upper nave4 which was overflowing5 with light and reverberating6 with organs and bells day and night. Sometimes it was a sepulchre. In palaces, in fortresses7, it was a prison, sometimes a sepulchre also, sometimes both together. These mighty8 buildings, whose mode of formation and vegetation we have elsewhere explained, had not simply foundations, but, so to speak, roots which ran branching through the soil in chambers9, galleries, and staircases, like the construction above. Thus churches, palaces, fortresses, had the earth half way up their bodies. The cellars of an edifice formed another edifice, into which one descended11 instead of ascending12, and which extended its subterranean grounds under the external piles of the monument, like those forests and mountains which are reversed in the mirror-like waters of a lake, beneath the forests and mountains of the banks.
At the fortress of Saint-Antoine, at the Palais de Justice of Paris, at the Louvre, these subterranean edifices13 were prisons. The stories of these prisons, as they sank into the soil, grew constantly narrower and more gloomy. They were so many zones, where the shades of horror were graduated. Dante could never imagine anything better for his hell. These tunnels of cells usually terminated in a sack of a lowest dungeon14, with a vat-like bottom, where Dante placed Satan, where society placed those condemned15 to death. A miserable16 human existence, once interred17 there; farewell light, air, life, ~ogni speranza~--every hope; it only came forth18 to the scaffold or the stake. Sometimes it rotted there; human justice called this "forgetting." Between men and himself, the condemned man felt a pile of stones and jailers weighing down upon his head; and the entire prison, the massive bastille was nothing more than an enormous, complicated lock, which barred him off from the rest of the world.
It was in a sloping cavity of this description, in the ~oubliettes~ excavated19 by Saint-Louis, in the ~inpace~ of the Tournelle, that la Esmeralda had been placed on being condemned to death, through fear of her escape, no doubt, with the colossal20 court-house over her head. Poor fly, who could not have lifted even one of its blocks of stone!
Assuredly, Providence21 and society had been equally unjust; such an excess of unhappiness and of torture was not necessary to break so frail22 a creature.
There she lay, lost in the shadows, buried, hidden, immured23. Any one who could have beheld24 her in this state, after having seen her laugh and dance in the sun, would have shuddered25. Cold as night, cold as death, not a breath of air in her tresses, not a human sound in her ear, no longer a ray of light in her eyes; snapped in twain, crushed with chains, crouching27 beside a jug28 and a loaf, on a little straw, in a pool of water, which was formed under her by the sweating of the prison walls; without motion, almost without breath, she had no longer the power to suffer; Phoebus, the sun, midday, the open air, the streets of Paris, the dances with applause, the sweet babblings of love with the officer; then the priest, the old crone, the poignard, the blood, the torture, the gibbet; all this did, indeed, pass before her mind, sometimes as a charming and golden vision, sometimes as a hideous29 nightmare; but it was no longer anything but a vague and horrible struggle, lost in the gloom, or distant music played up above ground, and which was no longer audible at the depth where the unhappy girl had fallen.
Since she had been there, she had neither waked nor slept. In that misfortune, in that cell, she could no longer distinguish her waking hours from slumber30, dreams from reality, any more than day from night. All this was mixed, broken, floating, disseminated31 confusedly in her thought. She no longer felt, she no longer knew, she no longer thought; at the most, she only dreamed. Never had a living creature been thrust more deeply into nothingness.
Thus benumbed, frozen, petrified32, she had barely noticed on two or three occasions, the sound of a trap door opening somewhere above her, without even permitting the passage of a little light, and through which a hand had tossed her a bit of black bread. Nevertheless, this periodical visit of the jailer was the sole communication which was left her with mankind.
A single thing still mechanically occupied her ear; above her head, the dampness was filtering through the mouldy stones of the vault33, and a drop of water dropped from them at regular intervals34. She listened stupidly to the noise made by this drop of water as it fell into the pool beside her.
This drop of water falling from time to time into that pool, was the only movement which still went on around her, the only clock which marked the time, the only noise which reached her of all the noise made on the surface of the earth.
To tell the whole, however, she also felt, from time to time, in that cesspool of mire35 and darkness, something cold passing over her foot or her arm, and she shuddered.
How long had she been there? She did not know. She had a recollection of a sentence of death pronounced somewhere, against some one, then of having been herself carried away, and of waking up in darkness and silence, chilled to the heart. She had dragged herself along on her hands. Then iron rings that cut her ankles, and chains had rattled36. She had recognized the fact that all around her was wall, that below her there was a pavement covered with moisture and a truss of straw; but neither lamp nor air-hole. Then she had seated herself on that straw and, sometimes, for the sake of changing her attitude, on the last stone step in her dungeon. For a while she had tried to count the black minutes measured off for her by the drop of water; but that melancholy38 labor39 of an ailing40 brain had broken off of itself in her head, and had left her in stupor41.
At length, one day, or one night, (for midnight and midday were of the same color in that sepulchre), she heard above her a louder noise than was usually made by the turnkey when he brought her bread and jug of water. She raised her head, and beheld a ray of reddish light passing through the crevices42 in the sort of trapdoor contrived43 in the roof of the ~inpace~.
At the same time, the heavy lock creaked, the trap grated on its rusty44 hinges, turned, and she beheld a lantern, a hand, and the lower portions of the bodies of two men, the door being too low to admit of her seeing their heads. The light pained her so acutely that she shut her eyes.
When she opened them again the door was closed, the lantern was deposited on one of the steps of the staircase; a man alone stood before her. A monk's black cloak fell to his feet, a cowl of the same color concealed45 his face. Nothing was visible of his person, neither face nor hands. It was a long, black shroud46 standing47 erect48, and beneath which something could be felt moving. She gazed fixedly49 for several minutes at this sort of spectre. But neither he nor she spoke51. One would have pronounced them two statues confronting each other. Two things only seemed alive in that cavern52; the wick of the lantern, which sputtered53 on account of the dampness of the atmosphere, and the drop of water from the roof, which cut this irregular sputtering54 with its monotonous55 splash, and made the light of the lantern quiver in concentric waves on the oily water of the pool.
At last the prisoner broke the silence.
"Who are you?"
"A priest."
The words, the accent, the sound of his voice made her tremble.
The priest continued, in a hollow voice,--
"Are you prepared?"
"For what?"
"To die."
"Oh!" said she, "will it be soon?"
"To-morrow."
Her head, which had been raised with joy, fell back upon her breast.
"'Tis very far away yet!" she murmured; "why could they not have done it to-day?"
"Then you are very unhappy?" asked the priest, after a silence.
"I am very cold," she replied.
She took her feet in her hands, a gesture habitual57 with unhappy wretches59 who are cold, as we have already seen in the case of the recluse60 of the Tour-Roland, and her teeth chattered61.
The priest appeared to cast his eyes around the dungeon from beneath his cowl.
"Without light! without fire! in the water! it is horrible!"
"Yes," she replied, with the bewildered air which unhappiness had given her. "The day belongs to every one, why do they give me only night?"
"Do you know," resumed the priest, after a fresh silence, "why you are here?"
"I thought I knew once," she said, passing her thin fingers over her eyelids62, as though to aid her memory, "but I know no longer."
All at once she began to weep like a child.
"I should like to get away from here, sir. I am cold, I am afraid, and there are creatures which crawl over my body."
"Well, follow me."
So saying, the priest took her arm. The unhappy girl was frozen to her very soul. Yet that hand produced an impression of cold upon her.
"Oh!" she murmured, "'tis the icy hand of death. Who are you?"
The priest threw back his cowl; she looked. It was the sinister63 visage which had so long pursued her; that demon64's head which had appeared at la Falourdel's, above the head of her adored Phoebus; that eye which she last had seen glittering beside a dagger65.
This apparition66, always so fatal for her, and which had thus driven her on from misfortune to misfortune, even to torture, roused her from her stupor. It seemed to her that the sort of veil which had lain thick upon her memory was rent away. All the details of her melancholy adventure, from the nocturnal scene at la Falourdel's to her condemnation67 to the Tournelle, recurred68 to her memory, no longer vague and confused as heretofore, but distinct, harsh, clear, palpitating, terrible. These souvenirs, half effaced70 and almost obliterated71 by excess of suffering, were revived by the sombre figure which stood before her, as the approach of fire causes letters traced upon white paper with invisible ink, to start out perfectly72 fresh. It seemed to her that all the wounds of her heart opened and bled simultaneously73.
"Hah!" she cried, with her hands on her eyes, and a convulsive trembling, "'tis the priest!"
Then she dropped her arms in discouragement, and remained seated, with lowered head, eyes fixed50 on the ground, mute and still trembling.
The priest gazed at her with the eye of a hawk74 which has long been soaring in a circle from the heights of heaven over a poor lark75 cowering76 in the wheat, and has long been silently contracting the formidable circles of his flight, and has suddenly swooped77 down upon his prey78 like a flash of lightning, and holds it panting in his talons79.
She began to murmur56 in a low voice,--
"Finish! finish! the last blow!" and she drew her head down in terror between her shoulders, like the lamb awaiting the blow of the butcher's axe80.
"So I inspire you with horror?" he said at length.
She made no reply.
"Do I inspire you with horror?" he repeated.
Her lips contracted, as though with a smile.
"Yes," said she, "the headsman scoffs81 at the condemned. Here he has been pursuing me, threatening me, terrifying me for months! Had it not been for him, my God, how happy it should have been! It was he who cast me into this abyss! Oh heavens! it was he who killed him! my Phoebus!"
Here, bursting into sobs83, and raising her eyes to the priest,--
"Oh! wretch58, who are you? What have I done to you? Do you then, hate me so? Alas85! what have you against me?"
"I love thee!" cried the priest.
Her tears suddenly ceased, she gazed at him with the look of an idiot. He had fallen on his knees and was devouring86 her with eyes of flame.
"Dost thou understand? I love thee!" he cried again.
"What love!" said the unhappy girl with a shudder26.
He resumed,--
"The love of a damned soul."
Both remained silent for several minutes, crushed beneath the weight of their emotions; he maddened, she stupefied.
"Listen," said the priest at last, and a singular calm had come over him; "you shall know all I am about to tell you that which I have hitherto hardly dared to say to myself, when furtively87 interrogating88 my conscience at those deep hours of the night when it is so dark that it seems as though God no longer saw us. Listen. Before I knew you, young girl, I was happy."
"So was I!" she sighed feebly.
"Do not interrupt me. Yes, I was happy, at least I believed myself to be so. I was pure, my soul was filled with limpid89 light. No head was raised more proudly and more radiantly than mine. Priests consulted me on chastity; doctors, on doctrines90. Yes, science was all in all to me; it was a sister to me, and a sister sufficed. Not but that with age other ideas came to me. More than once my flesh had been moved as a woman's form passed by. That force of sex and blood which, in the madness of youth, I had imagined that I had stifled91 forever had, more than once, convulsively raised the chain of iron vows92 which bind93 me, a miserable wretch, to the cold stones of the altar. But fasting, prayer, study, the mortifications of the cloister94, rendered my soul mistress of my body once more, and then I avoided women. Moreover, I had but to open a book, and all the impure95 mists of my brain vanished before the splendors96 of science. In a few moments, I felt the gross things of earth flee far away, and I found myself once more calm, quieted, and serene97, in the presence of the tranquil98 radiance of eternal truth. As long as the demon sent to attack me only vague shadows of women who passed occasionally before my eyes in church, in the streets, in the fields, and who hardly recurred to my dreams, I easily vanquished99 him. Alas! if the victory has not remained with me, it is the fault of God, who has not created man and the demon of equal force. Listen. One day--
Here the priest paused, and the prisoner heard sighs of anguish100 break from his breast with a sound of the death rattle37.
He resumed,--
"One day I was leaning on the window of my cell. What book was I reading then? Oh! all that is a whirlwind in my head. I was reading. The window opened upon a Square. I heard a sound of tambourine101 and music. Annoyed at being thus disturbed in my revery, I glanced into the Square. What I beheld, others saw beside myself, and yet it was not a spectacle made for human eyes. There, in the middle of the pavement,--it was midday, the sun was shining brightly,--a creature was dancing. A creature so beautiful that God would have preferred her to the Virgin102 and have chosen her for his mother and have wished to be born of her if she had been in existence when he was made man! Her eyes were black and splendid; in the midst of her black locks, some hairs through which the sun shone glistened103 like threads of gold. Her feet disappeared in their movements like the spokes104 of a rapidly turning wheel. Around her head, in her black tresses, there were disks of metal, which glittered in the sun, and formed a coronet of stars on her brow. Her dress thick set with spangles, blue, and dotted with a thousand sparks, gleamed like a summer night. Her brown, supple105 arms twined and untwined around her waist, like two scarfs. The form of her body was surprisingly beautiful. Oh! what a resplendent figure stood out, like something luminous106 even in the sunlight! Alas, young girl, it was thou! Surprised, intoxicated107, charmed, I allowed myself to gaze upon thee. I looked so long that I suddenly shuddered with terror; I felt that fate was seizing hold of me."
The priest paused for a moment, overcome with emotion. Then he continued,--
"Already half fascinated, I tried to cling fast to something and hold myself back from falling. I recalled the snares108 which Satan had already set for me. The creature before my eyes possessed110 that superhuman beauty which can come only from heaven or hell. It was no simple girl made with a little of our earth, and dimly lighted within by the vacillating ray of a woman's soul. It was an angel! but of shadows and flame, and not of light. At the moment when I was meditating111 thus, I beheld beside you a goat, a beast of witches, which smiled as it gazed at me. The midday sun gave him golden horns. Then I perceived the snare109 of the demon, and I no longer doubted that you had come from hell and that you had come thence for my perdition. I believed it."
Here the priest looked the prisoner full in the face, and added, coldly,--
"I believe it still. Nevertheless, the charm operated little by little; your dancing whirled through my brain; I felt the mysterious spell working within me. All that should have awakened112 was lulled113 to sleep; and like those who die in the snow, I felt pleasure in allowing this sleep to draw on. All at once, you began to sing. What could I do, unhappy wretch? Your song was still more charming than your dancing. I tried to flee. Impossible. I was nailed, rooted to the spot. It seemed to me that the marble of the pavement had risen to my knees. I was forced to remain until the end. My feet were like ice, my head was on fire. At last you took pity on me, you ceased to sing, you disappeared. The reflection of the dazzling vision, the reverberation114 of the enchanting115 music disappeared by degrees from my eyes and my ears. Then I fell back into the embrasure of the window, more rigid116, more feeble than a statue torn from its base. The vesper bell roused me. I drew myself up; I fled; but alas! something within me had fallen never to rise again, something had come upon me from which I could not flee."
He made another pause and went on,--
"Yes, dating from that day, there was within me a man whom I did not know. I tried to make use of all my remedies. The cloister, the altar, work, books,--follies! Oh, how hollow does science sound when one in despair dashes against it a head full of passions! Do you know, young girl, what I saw thenceforth between my book and me? You, your shade, the image of the luminous apparition which had one day crossed the space before me. But this image had no longer the same color; it was sombre, funereal117, gloomy as the black circle which long pursues the vision of the imprudent man who has gazed intently at the sun.
"Unable to rid myself of it, since I heard your song humming ever in my head, beheld your feet dancing always on my breviary, felt even at night, in my dreams, your form in contact with my own, I desired to see you again, to touch you, to know who you were, to see whether I should really find you like the ideal image which I had retained of you, to shatter my dream, perchance, with reality. At all events, I hoped that a new impression would efface69 the first, and the first had become insupportable. I sought you. I saw you once more. Calamity118! When I had seen you twice, I wanted to see you a thousand times, I wanted to see you always. Then--how stop myself on that slope of hell?--then I no longer belonged to myself. The other end of the thread which the demon had attached to my wings he had fastened to his foot. I became vagrant119 and wandering like yourself. I waited for you under porches, I stood on the lookout120 for you at the street corners, I watched for you from the summit of my tower. Every evening I returned to myself more charmed, more despairing, more bewitched, more lost!
"I had learned who you were; an Egyptian, Bohemian, gypsy, zingara. How could I doubt the magic? Listen. I hoped that a trial would free me from the charm. A witch enchanted121 Bruno d'Ast; he had her burned, and was cured. I knew it. I wanted to try the remedy. First I tried to have you forbidden the square in front of Notre-Dame, hoping to forget you if you returned no more. You paid no heed122 to it. You returned. Then the idea of abducting123 you occurred to me. One night I made the attempt. There were two of us. We already had you in our power, when that miserable officer came up. He delivered you. Thus did he begin your unhappiness, mine, and his own. Finally, no longer knowing what to do, and what was to become of me, I denounced you to the official.
"I thought that I should be cured like Bruno d'Ast. I also had a confused idea that a trial would deliver you into my hands; that, as a prisoner I should hold you, I should have you; that there you could not escape from me; that you had already possessed me a sufficiently124 long time to give me the right to possess you in my turn. When one does wrong, one must do it thoroughly125. 'Tis madness to halt midway in the monstrous126! The extreme of crime has its deliriums of joy. A priest and a witch can mingle127 in delight upon the truss of straw in a dungeon!
"Accordingly, I denounced you. It was then that I terrified you when we met. The plot which I was weaving against you, the storm which I was heaping up above your head, burst from me in threats and lightning glances. Still, I hesitated. My project had its terrible sides which made me shrink back.
"Perhaps I might have renounced128 it; perhaps my hideous thought would have withered129 in my brain, without bearing fruit. I thought that it would always depend upon me to follow up or discontinue this prosecution130. But every evil thought is inexorable, and insists on becoming a deed; but where I believed myself to be all powerful, fate was more powerful than I. Alas! 'tis fate which has seized you and delivered you to the terrible wheels of the machine which I had constructed doubly. Listen. I am nearing the end.
"One day,--again the sun was shining brilliantly--I behold131 man pass me uttering your name and laughing, who carries sensuality in his eyes. Damnation! I followed him; you know the rest."
He ceased.
The young girl could find but one word:
"Oh, my Phoebus!"
"Not that name!" said the priest, grasping her arm violently. "Utter not that name! Oh! miserable wretches that we are, 'tis that name which has ruined us! or, rather we have ruined each other by the inexplicable132 play of fate! you are suffering, are you not? you are cold; the night makes you blind, the dungeon envelops133 you; but perhaps you still have some light in the bottom of your soul, were it only your childish love for that empty man who played with your heart, while I bear the dungeon within me; within me there is winter, ice, despair; I have night in my soul.
"Do you know what I have suffered? I was present at your trial. I was seated on the official's bench. Yes, under one of the priests' cowls, there were the contortions134 of the damned. When you were brought in, I was there; when you were questioned, I was there.--Den of wolves!--It was my crime, it was my gallows135 that I beheld being slowly reared over your head. I was there for every witness, every proof, every plea; I could count each of your steps in the painful path; I was still there when that ferocious136 beast--oh! I had not foreseen torture! Listen. I followed you to that chamber10 of anguish. I beheld you stripped and handled, half naked, by the infamous137 hands of the tormentor138. I beheld your foot, that foot which I would have given an empire to kiss and die, that foot, beneath which to have had my head crushed I should have felt such rapture,--I beheld it encased in that horrible boot, which converts the limbs of a living being into one bloody139 clod. Oh, wretch! while I looked on at that, I held beneath my shroud a dagger, with which I lacerated my breast. When you uttered that cry, I plunged140 it into my flesh; at a second cry, it would have entered my heart. Look! I believe that it still bleeds."
He opened his cassock. His breast was in fact, mangled141 as by the claw of a tiger, and on his side he had a large and badly healed wound.
The prisoner recoiled142 with horror.
"Oh!" said the priest, "young girl, have pity upon me! You think yourself unhappy; alas! alas! you know not what unhappiness is. Oh! to love a woman! to be a priest! to be hated! to love with all the fury of one's soul; to feel that one would give for the least of her smiles, one's blood, one's vitals, one's fame, one's salvation143, one's immortality144 and eternity145, this life and the other; to regret that one is not a king, emperor, archangel, God, in order that one might place a greater slave beneath her feet; to clasp her night and day in one's dreams and one's thoughts, and to behold her in love with the trappings of a soldier and to have nothing to offer her but a priest's dirty cassock, which will inspire her with fear and disgust! To be present with one's jealousy146 and one's rage, while she lavishes147 on a miserable, blustering148 imbecile, treasures of love and beauty! To behold that body whose form burns you, that bosom149 which possesses so much sweetness, that flesh palpitate and blush beneath the kisses of another! Oh heaven! to love her foot, her arm, her shoulder, to think of her blue veins150, of her brown skin, until one writhes151 for whole nights together on the pavement of one's cell, and to behold all those caresses153 which one has dreamed of, end in torture! To have succeeded only in stretching her upon the leather bed! Oh! these are the veritable pincers, reddened in the fires of hell. Oh! blessed is he who is sawn between two planks154, or torn in pieces by four horses! Do you know what that torture is, which is imposed upon you for long nights by your burning arteries155, your bursting heart, your breaking head, your teeth-knawed hands; mad tormentors which turn you incessantly156, as upon a red-hot gridiron, to a thought of love, of jealousy, and of despair! Young girl, mercy! a truce157 for a moment! a few ashes on these live coals! Wipe away, I beseech158 you, the perspiration159 which trickles160 in great drops from my brow! Child! torture me with one hand, but caress152 me with the other! Have pity, young girl! Have pity upon me!"
The priest writhed161 on the wet pavement, beating his head against the corners of the stone steps. The young girl gazed at him, and listened to him.
When he ceased, exhausted162 and panting, she repeated in a low voice,--
"Oh my Phoebus!"
The priest dragged himself towards her on his knees.
"I beseech you," he cried, "if you have any heart, do not repulse163 me! Oh! I love you! I am a wretch! When you utter that name, unhappy girl, it is as though you crushed all the fibres of my heart between your teeth. Mercy! If you come from hell I will go thither164 with you. I have done everything to that end. The hell where you are, shall he paradise; the sight of you is more charming than that of God! Oh! speak! you will have none of me? I should have thought the mountains would be shaken in their foundations on the day when a woman would repulse such a love. Oh! if you only would! Oh! how happy we might be. We would flee--I would help you to flee,--we would go somewhere, we would seek that spot on earth, where the sun is brightest, the sky the bluest, where the trees are most luxuriant. We would love each other, we would pour our two souls into each other, and we would have a thirst for ourselves which we would quench165 in common and incessantly at that fountain of inexhaustible love."
She interrupted with a terrible and thrilling laugh.
"Look, father, you have blood on your fingers!"
The priest remained for several moments as though petrified, with his eyes fixed upon his hand.
"Well, yes!" he resumed at last, with strange gentleness, "insult me, scoff82 at me, overwhelm me with scorn! but come, come. Let us make haste. It is to be to-morrow, I tell you. The gibbet on the Grève, you know it? it stands always ready. It is horrible! to see you ride in that tumbrel! Oh mercy! Until now I have never felt the power of my love for you.--Oh! follow me. You shall take your time to love me after I have saved you. You shall hate me as long as you will. But come. To-morrow! to-morrow! the gallows! your execution! Oh! save yourself! spare me!"
He seized her arm, he was beside himself, he tried to drag her away.
She fixed her eye intently on him.
"What has become of my Phoebus?"
"Ah!" said the priest, releasing her arm, "you are pitiless."
"What has become of Phoebus?" she repeated coldly.
"He is dead!" cried the priest.
"Dead!" said she, still icy and motionless "then why do you talk to me of living?"
He was not listening to her.
"Oh! yes," said he, as though speaking to himself, "he certainly must be dead. The blade pierced deeply. I believe I touched his heart with the point. Oh! my very soul was at the end of the dagger!"
The young girl flung herself upon him like a raging tigress, and pushed him upon the steps of the staircase with supernatural force.
"Begone, monster! Begone, assassin! Leave me to die! May the blood of both of us make an eternal stain upon your brow! Be thine, priest! Never! never! Nothing shall unite us! not hell itself! Go, accursed man! Never!"
The priest had stumbled on the stairs. He silently disentangled his feet from the folds of his robe, picked up his lantern again, and slowly began the ascent166 of the steps which led to the door; he opened the door and passed through it.
All at once, the young girl beheld his head reappear; it wore a frightful167 expression, and he cried, hoarse168 with rage and despair,--
"I tell you he is dead!"
She fell face downwards169 upon the floor, and there was no longer any sound audible in the cell than the sob84 of the drop of water which made the pool palpitate amid the darkness.
在中世纪，一座称得上完整的建筑，它的地下工程差不多同地上一样多。
除了象圣母院那样用成排木桩做屋基的以外，一座宫殿，一座堡垒，一座教堂，通常都有两个底层。一座大教堂下面，还有另一座相当低矮、黑暗、神秘、又瞎又聋的地狱般的教堂，就在那光辉灿烂、日夜发出琴声与钟乐声的本堂底下。有时地底下是一座坟墓。在宫殿或监狱里，地底下就是一座牢房或坟墓，或者两样都有。这些结实的泥水工程，我们已经在别处描述过它们的构造形式，它们不单是只有屋基，而且还有根须分布地下，形成房间走廊与楼梯，同地上一层的建筑一模一样。这样，教堂宫殿和监狱就有一半是埋在地底下，一座建筑的地窖就是另外一座建筑，你到那里去不用往上爬，只需往下走。地底下的教堂作为它上边一层建筑的地下层，正如岸边的树林和山峦向透明的湖水投下的倒影。
在圣安东尼地区的巴士底狱，在巴黎司法官，在卢浮宫，这种地下建筑都是牢房。那些伸入地底的牢房的梯级，越往下越窄越黑暗，它们被可怕的阴影划分成许多地段，但丁要找地狱，也不可能找到比那些地方更合适的了。
牢房的烟囱通常安在从上层地面蜿蜒而下的沟道所形成的那一类洞穴里，但丁就是在那种地方安置撒旦的。当时只有判了死刑的囚犯才被丢在那种地方，一个悲惨的生灵到了那里，就永远同阳光、空气、生命完全隔绝，把一切希望通通抛弃，要出去除非是去上绞刑架或火刑台，有时他们就在地牢里死掉了，腐烂了，人类的正义把它称为“遗忘洞”。囚犯在那里感到头顶上有一堆石头和一群狱吏把自己和人类隔绝开来，那整个牢房，那牢固的监狱，只是一把巨大的锁，把自己锁在活生生的世界下面。
拉·爱斯梅拉达在被判绞刑之后给丢了进去的，就是一个这样的地穴，就是圣路易修造的这种“遗忘洞”，就是杜尔内尔刑事监狱的这个地牢，这当然是为了怕她逃跑。巍峨的司法宫就在她的头顶上，但她不过是连它最小的一块砖石也搬不动的一只可怜的苍蝇啊！
事实上，天上人间同样不公平，要摧毁这么一个柔弱的人儿，根本用不着那样多的苦难和酷刑啊。
她迷失在地牢的黑暗里，被黑暗覆盖着，埋葬着，禁锢着。看过她在阳光下欢笑和舞蹈的人们，又看见她处在这样的境地，一定会战栗起来。她被沉重的铁链压着，蜷伏在一张草席上，地牢墙头的水在她脚下滴成一个小水潭，身旁放着一个水罐和一块面包。她象黑夜一般冰冷，象死人一般冰冷，头发里没有一点空气，耳朵里听不到一点人声，眼睛看不见一缕阳光。她毫不动弹，也不呼吸，甚至也不觉得难受。弗比斯、阳光、中午、天空、巴黎市街，为她博得过许多赞赏的舞蹈，她同那个军官的情话，还有那神甫，那把尖刀，以及血呀、酷刑呀、绞刑架呀，通通在她的心头过了一遍，有时象一片金光闪闪的幻景，其中歌声嘹亮，有时象是一个可怕的恶梦，但那不过是消失在黑暗中的隐约的挣扎，或者是遥远的音乐，这种音乐是那不幸的人掉进深渊后再也听不见的地面的音乐。
自从来到了这里，她既不是醒着也不是睡着，在这种不幸之中，在这个地牢里面，她再也分不清醒着和做梦，分不清梦境和现实，分不清白天和黑夜，一切都是混乱的、破碎的，都在她的思想里飘浮着，流散着。她再也不能感觉，不能辨识，不能思考了，顶多只象做梦般恍恍惚惚。从来没有哪一个活人坠入过这么深的空虚。
她是这样麻木、呆定、凝冷，几乎没有听见她头顶上一扇活门两三次打开的声音，甚至也没有注意到那里透进来的一丝光亮，有人扔给她一块黑面包。狱卒的这种按时的到来，就是她和活人之间唯一的联系了。
还有一个东西机械地占据着她的听觉：那便是从屋顶石板缝里流出的水每隔一定的间歇就滴下来，她呆呆地听着水滴落在身边小水潭里的声音。
这滴在水潭里的水，就是她周围仅有的响声，就是告知她时间的钟表，就是地面上所有的声音里面唯一能到达她那里的声音。
不管怎么说，在那只有泥浆和黑暗的处所，她总算还能感觉得到冰冷的水滴落到她的胳膊和双脚上，这使她战栗。
她到这个地方多久了？她一无所知。她只记得在什么地方有人判了某个人的死刑，这之后她便给带到了这里，只记得她是在黑夜和沉寂中冻醒过来的。她手上戴着手铐，脚踝上戴着脚镣，铁链丁当地响着。她明白了自己的周围只有墙壁，身子底下只有滴满了水的石板地和一张草席，但没有灯，没有通风口。她只好坐在草席上，有时为了换一下姿势，便去坐在地牢的最后一级石阶上。有一会儿，她试着去数那水滴向她报告的黑暗的分秒，可是一个病弱的头脑所做的这个悲惨的努力，很快就在她脑子里自行粉碎，留给她的只是呆木的感觉。
某一天或是某个夜晚（因为中午或半夜在这个坟墓里都是同一种颜色），她听见头顶上有一种响声，比往常给她送来面包和水的狱卒开门的声音要响些，她抬起头来，看见寂静的地牢拱顶上的活门缝隙里透进了一线红红的亮光，同时那沉重的活门响起来。活门在生锈的锁链上轧轧地磨响一阵便转开了，她看见一盏灯，一只手和两个人的下半截身子，门太矮，她瞧不见他们的头，灯光太耀眼了，她只好把眼睛闭上。
她睁开眼睛时，活门已经关上，灯放在一级石梯上面，一个男人只身站在她的面前。他从头到脚裹在一件黑色衣服里，脸上蒙着一块黑头巾。他全身任何部分都看不见，包括他的脸和手，仿佛是一件直立着的长长的尸衣，但在那件尸衣里面好象有什么东西在颤动。她向这个幽灵一般的东西呆定定地望了几秒钟，她或他谁都不说话，真象是两尊塑像面面相对。这个地洞里好象只有两种事物还有些生气：那就是潮湿空气引起的灯芯的爆响声和从屋顶滴下的水声——它用单调的淅沥声应和着那有规律的爆响，使灯光在水潭打皱的表面上的光圈抖动起来。
犯人终于说话了：“你是谁呀？”
“一个神甫。”
这句话，这种语气，这个声音，使她禁不住战栗起来。
神甫又用清楚沉重的声音问道：“你准备好了吗？”
“准备什么？”
“准备去死。”
“啊，”她说，“很快了吧？”
“明天。”
她高兴地抬起的头又垂下去了。“时间还是太长了！”她低声说道，“为什么不在今天呢？”
“那么你很难受吗？”神甫沉默了片刻问道。
“我很冷。”她回答。
她用手握住自己的双脚，这是不幸的人感到寒冷时常有的动作，就象我们看见过的罗兰塔里那个隐修女一样。她的牙齿也碰得直响。
神甫似乎用他那蒙在头巾下面的眼睛环顾了一下这所牢房。
“没有亮光！没有炉火！泡在水里！真可怕！”
“是呀，”她用不幸给她造成的惊慌语气说道，“全世界都有白天，为什么他们只给我黑夜呢？”
“你可知道，”神甫又沉默了一会说，“你是为什么到这里来的吗？”
“我想我是知道的，”她把瘦瘦的手指按住额头，好象为了帮助记忆，“可是我又不知道了。”
突然她象小孩子一般哭起来了。“我想离开这个地方，先生，我冷，我害怕，并且有些讨厌的东西在我身上爬。”
“那么，跟我来吧。”
神甫一面说一面抓住她的胳膊。这不幸的人本来已经连五脏六腑都冻僵了，但神甫的手还能使她感觉到是冰冷的。
“啊，”她低声说，“这是‘死亡’的冰冷的手呀。你究竟是谁？”
神甫把头巾拿掉了。她盯着瞧，原来就是那个长久跟踪她的人的阴森森的脸孔，那个在法洛代尔家里出现在她崇拜的弗比斯头顶上的脑袋，那双她上次看见在一把尖刀旁边闪亮的眼睛。
这个危害她的幽灵，这个曾经把她从灾难推到灾难，使她遭受刑律的幽灵的出现，使她从呆木状态中惊醒了，那一直遮住她的记忆的厚厚的幕布好象突然拉了开来，她的全部悲惨遭遇，从法洛代尔家那个晚上到杜尔内尔法庭的审判，一下子都回到了她的心里，不象往常那样模糊混乱，而是清楚的、鲜明的、跳动的、可怕的。已经一半消失并且几乎被痛苦抹掉了的这些记忆，通通被站在她跟前的这个阴森森的男人召唤回来，就象人们用隐显墨水写在白纸上看不出来的字，一挨近火就清楚地显现出来一样。仿佛她心头所有的伤口同时给撕裂开来，流着鲜血。
“啊，”她用双手捂着眼睛，痉挛地哆嗦着嚷道：“原来是那个神甫！”
随后她便垂下无力的胳膊，依旧低着头坐在那里，眼睛盯在地上，一言不发，不断地哆嗦。
神甫望着她，那眼光就象一只长久地在高空盘旋的鹞鹰，死盯住躲在麦田里一只可怜的云雀不放，它悄悄停止了回旋，突然象闪电般朝云雀扑去，用爪子把它捕获。
她用极低的声音说：“完结吧，完结吧，再来最后一下吧！”她恐惧地把头缩在两肩当中，仿佛羔羊在等待屠夫的那致命一刀。
“是我把你吓住了吗？”他终于问道。
她没有回答。
“是我把你吓住了吗？”他重复问了一遍。
她的嘴唇似笑非笑地动了一下：“是呀，刽子手在同犯人开玩笑呢，他已经跟踪我吓唬我威胁我好几个月了。要是没有他，我的上帝，我该多么幸福！就是他把我丢进了这个深渊！啊，天哪！就是他杀害了……就是这个家伙杀害了他，我的弗比斯！”
说到这里，她突然大哭起来，抬眼望着神甫：“啊，可恶的东西，你是什么人？我对你做了什么，使你这样恨我？啊，你为什么要反对我？”
“我爱你！”神甫大声说道。
她的眼泪忽然止住不流了，只用痴呆的眼光看着神甫。神甫跪在那里，用火焰般的眼睛死死地盯着她。
“你听见吗？我爱你！”他又大声说。
“什么样的爱？”那不幸的姑娘战战兢兢地问道。
“下地狱的人的爱！”他回答。
两人都被感情的重量压倒了，好一会没出声，他是疯疯癫癫的，她却是呆定定的。
“听着，”神甫终于恢复了异常的平静，说道，“你会完全明白的，我要把我在上帝似乎看不见我们的漆黑的夜晚扪心自问时都不敢向自己说的话告诉你。听着，姑娘，在遇见你之前，我是幸福的……”
“我也是呀！”她有气无力地叹息道。
“不要打断我的话。是呀，我本来是幸福的，至少我以为自己是幸福的。
我是纯洁的，我灵魂里充满了明净的光辉，没有谁的头抬得象我那样高，象我那样骄傲，没有谁象我那样精神焕发。神甫们同我谈论贞洁，学者们同我谈论教义。是呀，科学对于我就是一切，她是一位姐妹，一位令我满意的姐妹。随着年岁的增长我并不是没有别的念头的，不止一次我的肉体由于一个女人走过而冲动起来，我在少年时就以为被生活窒息了的这种男人的生理和血液的精力，不止一次痉挛地解开了把我这可怜人拴在神坛冰冷石头上的铁链。但是斋戒、祷告、学习和修道院的禁欲制度，又使我的灵魂重新成了我躯体的主宰，于是我回避一切妇女，此外我就只好打开书本，使我头脑里一切不洁的烟雾消失在科学的崇高之前。几分钟后我便觉得我远离尘世杂务，我又在永恒真理的安详的光辉面前变得宁静严肃起来。在教堂里，在大街上，在田野中，魔鬼曾经多次用在我面前经过的妇女的模糊影子来诱惑我，但是她们很少出现在我的思想里，我轻易地把魔鬼打败了。哎，假若胜利已经不在我这边了，那是上帝的错误，他没有让人具有和魔鬼同等的力量啊。听着！
有一天……”
说到这里，神甫又停顿了一下，犯人听见他胸中迸出几声叹息，那声音好象是在垂死挣扎。
他接着说下去：“有一天，我坐在我那小房间的窗口……我当时正在读一本什么书呀？
啊，这些事在我脑子里乱成了一团，我正在读书。那窗户是朝着一个广场的，我听见一阵鼓声和音乐声，因为它扰乱了我的沉思，我愤怒地向广场望去。
那时我所看见的，别的许多人也都看见的，是一种不是人类的眼睛应该看见的景象，在那边，在石板路当中，那时正当中午，有很好的阳光，有个人正在那里跳舞，一个十分美丽的姑娘。上帝应当选她当圣处女，选她当他的母亲，假若他诞生时她早已在世，他一定愿意自己是她生下的呢。她的眼睛又黑又亮，头发有几根被阳光照着，象金丝一般闪闪发光。她的脚跳起舞来就象车轮的辐条在迅速转动。在她的头上，在乌黑的发辫中间，有些金属的发针在阳光里闪亮，在她的额头上形成一圈星星。她那钉着许多亮片的天蓝色衣服，象夏夜的天空一般，闪出千万道光芒。她的柔软的浅褐色胳膊绕着她的身子一收一放，好象两条带子。她的身材漂亮极了。啊，那光辉的形体，甚至在太阳光里也象是发光的东西一般！……哎，姑娘，那就是你呀。我又惊异，又沉醉，又迷惑，我听任自己一直望着你，望到我惊恐地战栗起来，我觉得命运的手已经把我抓住了。”
情绪激动的神甫又停顿了一下，接着说道：“已经半着迷了，我就试着要抓住什么免得堕落。我想起了撒旦早已向我张开过的罗网。我眼前的人具有那种非凡的美，那只能是从天上或地狱里来的。她不是那种用一点儿人间凡土造成的，内心闪耀着女性心灵微光的单纯的姑娘，她是一位天使，但她是从黑暗里诞生的，从火焰里诞生的，而不是从光明里诞生的。正当我在这样想的时候，我看见她身边有一只小山羊，一种经常同巫师在一起的动物，在笑着看我。中午的阳光把它的犄角照得象火一样发光。于是我看到了魔鬼设下的圈套，我再不怀疑你是从地狱里来的，是来使我堕落的，我是非常相信这一点了。”
神甫面对面看着犯人，接着又说下去：“我现在依然相信这一点，而且魔法也逐渐在发生作用。你的舞步在我头脑里旋转起来，我感到那神秘的符咒已经控制了我，本来应该清醒的现在都在我灵魂里睡着了，就象在雪地里死去的人一般，我倒庆幸这种睡眠的来到。忽然你唱起歌来了。我怎么办呀，我这个不幸的人？你的歌声比你的舞蹈更加迷人，我想逃，但是办不到，我似乎被钉在——似乎在地上生了根，好象石头人一样。我只好依旧站在那里，我的双脚冰冷，头却热得发晕。最后，也许你可怜我啦，停止了歌唱走开了。那灿烂的幻景，那甜美的音乐，逐渐在我的眼里和耳里消失了，于是我跌倒在窗下的角落里，比倒下的塑像更僵硬更脆弱。晚祷的钟声把我惊醒了，我清醒过来便想逃开去，可是，哎，我心里有什么东西已经垮掉，再也扶不起来，好象有什么东西压在我身上，使我再也逃不掉了。”
他又停顿了一下，接着说道：“从那一天起，我就变成了一个我不认识的人。我打算重新采用我的治疗方法：修道院、神坛、工作、书籍。真笨啊！当热情的头脑开始失望的时候，科学变得多么空虚！姑娘，你知道从此我在书本和我自己身上看见的是什么？是你，是你的形象，是那天在我面前的灿烂的形象。但这个形象不再是原来的颜色，它变成了阴森的、惨淡的、幽暗的，好象望太阳望得太久之后在眼前跳动的一圈黑影。
“我摆脱不了这个形象，我常常听见你的歌声在我脑子里鸣响，看见你的脚在我的祈祷书上跳舞，夜里在梦中，你的形象便滑过我的肉体。我希望看见你，触摸你，想知道你是什么人，看看你和你留给我的那个完美的形象是否完全一样，我以为那样一来，也许能让事实把我的幻梦粉碎。总之，我希望有一个新的形象来消灭那前一个形象，因为前一个使我无法忍受。于是我到处寻找你，我又看见你了。多么不幸！看见过你两次以后，我便希望看见你一千次，希望常常看见你。所以，在那通向地狱的斜坡上，怎么可能停住不往下滑呢？所以我再也不能控制自己了。魔鬼系在我翅膀上的长线，另一头却系在你的脚上。我变得跟你一样到处流浪起来，我在许多大门口等候你，在许多街角上窥伺你，在我的钟塔顶上偷看你。回到我的房间后我就更加入迷，更加失望，更加疯癫，更加丧魂失魄！
“我终于知道了你是什么人，是埃及人，是波希米亚人，是流浪的人和漂泊的人，那还能同巫术没关系吗？听着！我希望通过诉讼来把我身上的魔法解除掉，有一个女巫曾经把勃罗诺·达斯特迷住，他把女巫烧死了，自己也就痊愈了。我知道这件事，我也想试一下这种解脱方法。我首先禁止你到圣母院一带来，以为你不再来，我便能把你忘记了。你不遵守禁令，于是我想把你抢到手。有一天晚上我捉住了你，我们是两个人，正当我们已经把你捉住时，那倒霉的军官来了，他放走了你，从此就开始了你的不幸，还有我的和他的不幸。最后我不知怎么办，不知道会怎么样，只好把你舍弃给那个军官，我以为这样我就会痊愈了，象勃罗诺·达斯特一样。但我又混乱地想到要用诉讼的办法把你弄到手，想着把你关进监牢我就能得到你，在那个地方你就不能逃避我了。你占有我的心这么久，也该让我来久久地占有你啦。
一个人只要干了一件坏事，就想干尽一切坏事，除非发了疯才会中途停止！
罪恶的另一头有令人昏迷的欢乐呢。一个神甫同一个女巫在牢房的草席上是能够沉醉在那种欢乐里的！
“于是我控告了你，碰见你时我就吓唬你，我让你掉进我的圈套，但我堆在你头顶的风暴，带着威胁与闪电消逝了，因为我还有点犹豫不决，我的计划里有些可怕的成分使我退缩不前。
“也许我会放弃自己的打算，也许那可怕的念头会在我头脑里毫无结果地消失了，是进行呢还是撤销我的诉讼，我相信在我心里还是件悬而未决的事。但是每种可恶的念头都是十分坚决的，都是非成为事实才肯罢休的。正当我自以为很有力量的时候，命运却比我更有力量。唉，是命运把你抓住了，并且把你放在我私自做成的机器的可怕的齿轮下面了，听着，我快要讲完啦。
“有一天，在另一个阳光明媚的日子里，我看见一个男人从我面前走过，嘴里喊着你的名字，笑着，眼睛色迷迷的。真该死。我就跟踪他了，以后的事情你是知道的了。”
他住口了，那姑娘只能喊出一句：“啊，我的弗比斯！”
“别喊这个名字！”神甫狠狠地抓住她的胳膊说，“不要说出这个名字！
啊，我们都是不幸的人，就是这个名字把我们毁了的！或许是命运那无法抗拒的游戏把我们大家都毁了！你伤心，不是吗？你冷，黑夜使你变成了瞎子，牢房包围着你，可是你灵魂深处也许还有一线光明，虽然那不过是你对那玩弄你的心灵空虚的男人的幼稚的爱情罢了！我呢，我的心是一座牢狱，我的心象冬天，充满了冰霜和失望，我的灵魂里只有黑夜。你知道我遭受的一切吗？我参与了你的案子，我坐在宗教审判官的位置上，是呀，在那些神甫头巾里，有一块头巾遮盖着一个罪人的怪模样。人们把你带上法庭的时候，我在场，人们审问你的时候，我也在场。豺狼的洞穴啊！那是我的罪过，那是我应受的惩罚，但我却看见人们把它安在你的头上。每次旁证，每次辩护，我都在场，我能够计算出你踏在那苦难路程上的每一个脚步，当那只凶恶的野兽……我也是在场的，啊，我事先没料到那种刑罚。听着，我跟随你到了那个拷问室，我看见施刑人的卑鄙的双手脱去你的鞋袜，使你腿脚半露着。
我看见了你的脚，我曾经希望吻一下便死去的脚，要是能踏在我的头上就会使我沉醉的脚，我却看见人们把它们装进铁靴里去，那种铁靴曾经使无数活人的脚变得血肉模糊的呢！啊，当我这个不幸的人看见这一情景时，那时我胸前衬衣底下正藏着一把尖刀，听到你一声叫喊，我便把刀向肉里刺去，听见你叫喊第二声，我便把刀向心窝刺去。看呀，我相信伤口还在流血呢。”
他把衣服解开，他的胸口的确象被老虎抓伤了一样，两胁下有个尚未愈合的很大的伤口。
女犯恐惧地倒退了一步。
“啊，”神甫说道，“姑娘，怜悯我吧！你认为你自己是不幸的，唉，唉，你还不知道什么叫做不幸呢。啊，爱着一个女人，自己却是一个神甫，一个被人厌恶的神甫！他用自己灵魂里全部力量去爱她，觉得为了她的微微一笑，就能使他把鲜血、品德、荣誉、不朽和永恒，今世和后世的生命通通抛弃；他恨自己不是国王、天才、皇帝、天使或神灵，不能在她脚下成为一个比较伟大的奴隶；他日日夜夜在思想里和睡梦里拥抱她，但他看见她喜爱的却是军官的制服，而自己能献给她的只是她所害怕和嫌弃的肮脏的教士长袍。当她把她的爱情与美貌浪费在一个可恶的笨蛋身上，他便带着妒嫉与愤怒出现在她面前。看着那使人燃起欲念的形体，那十分甜柔的胸脯，那在别人的亲吻下颤动和羞红的肌肉！啊，天哪！爱着她的脚，她的手臂，她的肩膀，梦想着她的发蓝的脉络，她的浅褐色的皮肤，一直到他整夜地蜷伏在自己那小房间的石板地上。但是看见他所梦想的种种温存竟使她遭受刑律，竟使她去躺在那张皮床上！啊，那真是些用地狱之火烧红了的铁钳呀！哪怕是被锯死的人或被五马分尸的人，也都比他幸运呀！你知道他忍受着怎样的痛苦，在那些漫漫长夜里，他血液沸腾，心灵破碎，头脑胀痛，他用牙齿咬着自己的手，残忍的苦刑使他象辗转在烧红的铁耙上一样，辗转在爱情、妒嫉和失望的念头上！姑娘！慈悲吧！对我宽大一会儿吧！在这个伤口上涂点香膏吧！我求你揩掉我额头上大颗地流淌的汗珠！孩子啊，请你一只手惩罚我，另一只手爱抚我吧！怜悯吧，姑娘，怜悯我吧！”
神甫在牢房的水潭里打滚，并且把脑袋向石阶上碰去。那姑娘听着他说话，呆望着他，当他停止说话，筋疲力尽地喘气的时候，她用很低的声音重复说道：“啊，我的弗比斯！”
神甫爬行到她跟前。
“我恳求你，”他喊道，“要是你有点心肝，不要拒绝我吧！啊，我爱你！我是一个可怜的人！不幸的姑娘，你说出这个名字，就象你是在捣碎我心上的每一条神经！发发慈悲吧！假若你是从地狱来的，我要同你一起回去，我所做的一切就是为了这个。你所在的地狱，就是我的天堂，你的眼光比上帝的更可爱呢！啊，说吧！你不愿意要我吗？假若一个女人能够拒绝这样的爱情，高山也会活动啦。啊，只要你愿意！……啊，我们能够多么幸福呀！
我们可以逃走，我可以帮助你逃走，我们可以到某个地方去，我们会在大地上找到一个阳光更好、树木更多、天色更蓝的处所。我们要彼此相爱，我们要互相充实彼此的灵魂，我们之间有着如饥似渴的爱情，让我们双方不断地来斟满我们那杯爱情之酒吧！”
她用可怕的笑声打断了他的话：“瞧瞧吧，神甫你的指甲里有血呢！”
神甫好几分钟惊骇得发了呆，盯着自己的手。
“哎呀，是了！”最后他用奇怪的温柔语气说，“侮辱我吧，嘲笑我吧，使我更加难受吧，可是来呀，来呀，我们得赶快，我告诉你，就在明天呀。
格雷沃广场的绞刑架，你知道吗？它是随时准备着的。太可怕啦，看着你坐在囚车里游街！发发慈悲吧！我从来没有象现在这样明白自己爱你爱到了什么程度，啊，跟我来呀，在我把你救出去以后你还来得及爱我的。你愿意恨我恨到什么时候都可以，可是来吧。明天呀，明天！那个绞刑架！你的死刑！
啊，拯救你自己吧！饶恕我吧！”
他抓住姑娘的胳膊，神经错乱地想拽着她走。
她用呆定的目光看着他：“我的弗比斯怎样了？”
“啊！”神甫放开她的胳膊说，“你没有一点怜悯心！”
“我的弗比斯怎样了？”她神色凛然地重复道。
“他死了！”神甫叫喊起来。
“死了！”她依旧凛然不动地说，“那么你干吗还劝我活下去？”
神甫没听见她的话。“啊，对呀，”他自言自语地说，“他一定是死掉了，刀刺进去很深，我相信刀尖刺进了他的心脏。啊，我是全神贯注在刀尖上的呀！”
姑娘象狂怒的雌老虎一般向他扑去，用超人的力量把他往石级上一推。
“滚开，怪物！滚开，凶手！让我死吧！让我们两人的血在你额头上留下一个永远的印记！变成你的——变成你这个神甫的？永远不能！永远不能！任什么也不能把我同你结合在一起，那怕是地狱！滚吧，该死的东西！永远不能！”
神甫踉跄地拐到了石阶跟前，他悄悄地把双脚缩进长袍底下，伸手拾起他的灯，慢慢地爬上通到牢门的石级，打开牢房出去了。
忽然那姑娘看见他又从门口探进头来，脸上一副骇人的表情，用又粗暴又失望的声音向姑娘说道：“我告诉你他死掉啦！”
她脸孔朝下跌倒在地上了。牢房里再也听不到别的声音，除了水滴在黑暗中落到水潭时的叹息。
收听单词发音 |
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edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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reverberating
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的现在分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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fortresses
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| 堡垒，要塞( fortress的名词复数 ) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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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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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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interred
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| v.埋，葬( inter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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excavated
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| v.挖掘( excavate的过去式和过去分词 )；开凿；挖出；发掘 | |
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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immured
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| v.禁闭，监禁( immure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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disseminated
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| 散布，传播( disseminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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intervals
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| 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 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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39
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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40
ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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41
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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42
crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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43
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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44
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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45
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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46
shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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47
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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48
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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49
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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50
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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51
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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52
cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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53
sputtered
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| v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的过去式和过去分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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54
sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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55
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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56
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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57
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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58
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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59
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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60
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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61
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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62
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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63
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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64
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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65
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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66
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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67
condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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68
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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69
efface
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| v.擦掉，抹去 | |
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70
effaced
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| v.擦掉( efface的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；超越；使黯然失色 | |
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71
obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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72
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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73
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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74
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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75
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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76
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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77
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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79
talons
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| n.（尤指猛禽的）爪( talon的名词复数 )；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物；锁簧尖状突出部 | |
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80
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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81
scoffs
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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82
scoff
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| n.嘲笑，笑柄，愚弄；v.嘲笑，嘲弄，愚弄，狼吞虎咽 | |
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83
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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84
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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85
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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86
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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87
furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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88
interrogating
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| n.询问技术v.询问( interrogate的现在分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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89
limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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90
doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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91
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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92
vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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93
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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94
cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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95
impure
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| adj.不纯净的，不洁的；不道德的，下流的 | |
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96
splendors
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| n.华丽( splendor的名词复数 )；壮丽；光辉；显赫 | |
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97
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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98
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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99
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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100
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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101
tambourine
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| n.铃鼓，手鼓 | |
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102
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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103
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
spokes
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| n.（车轮的）辐条( spoke的名词复数 )；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 | |
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105
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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106
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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107
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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108
snares
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| n.陷阱( snare的名词复数 )；圈套；诱人遭受失败（丢脸、损失等）的东西；诱惑物v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的第三人称单数 ) | |
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109
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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110
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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111
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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112
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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113
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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114
reverberation
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| 反响； 回响； 反射； 反射物 | |
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115
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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116
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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117
funereal
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| adj.悲哀的；送葬的 | |
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118
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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119
vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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120
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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121
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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122
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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123
abducting
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| 劫持，诱拐( abduct的现在分词 )； 使（肢体等）外展 | |
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124
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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125
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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126
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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127
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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128
renounced
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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129
withered
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| 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 | |
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130
prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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131
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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132
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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133
envelops
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的第三人称单数 ) | |
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134
contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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135
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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136
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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137
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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138
tormentor
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| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
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139
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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140
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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141
mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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142
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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143
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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144
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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145
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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146
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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147
lavishes
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的第三人称单数 ) | |
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148
blustering
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| adj.狂风大作的，狂暴的v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的现在分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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149
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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150
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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151
writhes
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的第三人称单数 ) | |
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152
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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153
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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154
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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155
arteries
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| n.动脉( artery的名词复数 )；干线，要道 | |
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156
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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157
truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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158
beseech
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| v.祈求，恳求 | |
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159
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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160
trickles
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| n.细流( trickle的名词复数 )；稀稀疏疏缓慢来往的东西v.滴( trickle的第三人称单数 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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161
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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162
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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163
repulse
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| n.击退，拒绝；vt.逐退，击退，拒绝 | |
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164
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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165
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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166
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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167
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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168
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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169
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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