Sentimental Education; Or, The History of a Young Man. Volume 2. Gustave FlaubertЧитать онлайн книгу.
a violent character for no other reason save that they hated injustice, and they mixed up with legitimate grievances the most idiotic complaints.
The apothecary groaned over the pitiable condition of our fleet. The insurance agent could not tolerate Marshal Soult's two sentinels. Deslauriers denounced the Jesuits, who had just installed themselves publicly at Lille. Sénécal execrated M. Cousin much more for eclecticism, by teaching that certitude can be deduced from reason, developed selfishness and destroyed solidarity. The traveller in wines, knowing very little about these matters, remarked in a very loud tone that he had forgotten many infamies:
"The royal carriage on the Northern line must have cost eighty thousand francs. Who'll pay the amount?"
"Aye, who'll pay the amount?" repeated the clerk, as angrily as if this amount had been drawn out of his own pocket.
Then followed recriminations against the lynxes of the Bourse and the corruption of officials. According to Sénécal they ought to go higher up, and lay the blame, first of all, on the princes who had revived the morals of the Regency period.
"Have you not lately seen the Duc de Montpensier's friends coming back from Vincennes, no doubt in a state of intoxication, and disturbing with their songs the workmen of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine?"
"There was even a cry of 'Down with the thieves!'" said the apothecary. "I was there, and I joined in the cry!"
"So much the better! The people are at last waking up since the Teste-Cubières case."[D]
"For my part, that case caused me some pain," said Dussardier, "because it imputed dishonour to an old soldier!"
"Do you know," Sénécal went on, "what they have discovered at the Duchesse de Praslin's house – ?"
But here the door was sent flying open with a kick. Hussonnet entered.
"Hail, messeigneurs," said he, as he seated himself on the bed.
No allusion was made to his article, which he was sorry, however, for having written, as the Maréchale had sharply reprimanded him on account of it.
He had just seen at the Théâtre de Dumas the Chevalier de Maison-Rouge, and declared that it seemed to him a stupid play.
Such a criticism surprised the democrats, as this drama, by its tendency, or rather by its scenery, flattered their passions. They protested. Sénécal, in order to bring this discussion to a close, asked whether the play served the cause of Democracy.
"Yes, perhaps; but it is written in a style – "
"Well, then, 'tis a good play. What is style? 'Tis the idea!"
And, without allowing Frederick to say a word:
"Now, I was pointing out that in the Praslin case – "
Hussonnet interrupted him:
"Ha! here's another worn-out trick! I'm disgusted at it!"
"And others as well as you," returned Deslauriers.
"It has only got five papers taken. Listen while I read this paragraph."
And drawing his note-book out of his pocket, he read:
"'We have, since the establishment of the best of republics, been subjected to twelve hundred and twenty-nine press prosecutions, from which the results to the writers have been imprisonment extending over a period of three thousand one hundred and forty-one years, and the light sum of seven million one hundred and ten thousand five hundred francs by way of fine.' That's charming, eh?"
They all sneered bitterly.
Frederick, incensed against the others, broke in:
"The Democratie Pacifique has had proceedings taken against it on account of its feuilleton, a novel entitled The Woman's Share."
"Come! that's good," said Hussonnet. "Suppose they prevented us from having our share of the women!"
"But what is it that's not prohibited?" exclaimed Deslauriers. "To smoke in the Luxembourg is prohibited; to sing the Hymn to Pius IX. is prohibited!"
"And the typographers' banquet has been interdicted," a voice cried, with a thick articulation.
It was that of an architect, who had sat concealed in the shade of the alcove, and who had remained silent up to that moment. He added that, the week before, a man named Rouget had been convicted of offering insults to the king.
"That gurnet[E] is fried," said Hussonnet.
This joke appeared so improper to Sénécal, that he reproached Hussonnet for defending the Juggler of the Hôtel de Ville, the friend of the traitor Dumouriez.
"I? quite the contrary!"
He considered Louis Philippe commonplace, one of the National Guard types of men, all that savoured most of the provision-shop and the cotton night-cap! And laying his hand on his heart, the Bohemian gave utterance to the rhetorical phrases:
"It is always with a new pleasure… Polish nationality will not perish… Our great works will be pursued… Give me some money for my little family…"
They all laughed hugely, declaring that he was a delightful fellow, full of wit. Their delight was redoubled at the sight of the bowl of punch which was brought in by the keeper of a café.
The flames of the alcohol and those of the wax-candles soon heated the apartment, and the light from the garret, passing across the courtyard, illuminated the side of an opposite roof with the flue of a chimney, whose black outlines could be traced through the darkness of night. They talked in very loud tones all at the same time. They had taken off their coats; they gave blows to the furniture; they touched glasses.
Hussonnet exclaimed:
"Send up some great ladies, in order that this may be more Tour de Nesles, have more local colouring, and be more Rembrandtesque, gadzooks!"
And the apothecary, who kept stirring about the punch indefinitely, began to sing with expanded chest:
"I've two big oxen in my stable,
Two big white oxen – "
Sénécal laid his hand on the apothecary's mouth; he did not like disorderly conduct; and the lodgers pressed their faces against the window-panes, surprised at the unwonted uproar that was taking place in Dussardier's room.
The honest fellow was happy, and said that this recalled to his mind their little parties on the Quai Napoléon in days gone by; however, they missed many who used to be present at these reunions, "Pellerin, for instance."
"We can do without him," observed Frederick.
And Deslauriers enquired about Martinon.
"What has become of that interesting gentleman?"
Frederick, immediately giving vent to the ill-will which he bore to Martinon, attacked his mental capacity, his character, his false elegance, his entire personality. He was a perfect specimen of an upstart peasant! The new aristocracy, the mercantile class, was not as good as the old – the nobility. He maintained this, and the democrats expressed their approval, as if he were a member of the one class, and they were in the habit of visiting the other. They were charmed with him. The apothecary compared him to M. d'Alton Shée, who, though a peer of France, defended the cause of the people.
The time had come for taking their departure. They all separated with great handshakings. Dussardier, in a spirit of affectionate solicitude, saw Frederick and Deslauriers home. As soon as they were in the street, the advocate assumed a thoughtful air, and, after a moment's silence:
"You have a great grudge, then, against Pellerin?"
Frederick did not hide his rancour.
The painter, in the meantime, had withdrawn the notorious picture from the show-window. A person should not let himself be put out by trifles. What was the good of making an enemy for himself?
"He has given way to a burst of ill-temper, excusable in a man who hasn't a sou. You, of course, can't understand that!"
And,