Part 3 Book 8 Chapter 4 A Rose in Misery
A very young girl was standing in the half-open door. The dormer window of the garret, through which the light fell, was precisely opposite the door, and illuminated the figure with a wan light. She was a frail, emaciated, slender creature; there was nothing but a chemise and a petticoat upon that chilled and shivering nakedness. Her girdle was a string, her head ribbon a string, her pointed shoulders emerged from her chemise, a blond and lymphatic pallor, earth-colored collar-bones, red hands, a half-open and degraded mouth, missing teeth, dull, bold, base eyes; she had the form of a young girl who has missed her youth, and the look of a corrupt old woman; fifty years mingled with fifteen; one of those beings which are both feeble and horrible, and which cause those to shudder whom they do not cause to weep.
Marius had risen, and was staring in a sort of stupor at this being, who was almost like the forms of the shadows which traverse dreams.
The most heart-breaking thing of all was, that this young girl had not come into the world to be homely. In her early childhood she must even have been pretty. The grace of her age was still struggling against the hideous, premature decrepitude of debauchery and poverty. The remains of beauty were dying away in that face of sixteen, like the pale sunlight which is extinguished under hideous clouds at dawn on a winter's day.
That face was not wholly unknown to Marius. He thought he remembered having seen it somewhere.
"What do you wish, Mademoiselle?" he asked.
The young girl replied in her voice of a drunken convict:--
"Here is a letter for you, Monsieur Marius."
She called Marius by his name; he could not doubt that he was the person whom she wanted; but who was this girl? How did she know his name?
Without waiting for him to tell her to advance, she entered. She entered resolutely, staring, with a sort of assurance that made the heart bleed, at the whole room and the unmade bed. Her feet were bare. Large holes in her petticoat permitted glimpses of her long legs and her thin knees. She was shivering.
She held a letter in her hand, which she presented to Marius.
Marius, as he opened the letter, noticed that the enormous wafer which sealed it was still moist. The message could not have come from a distance. He read:--
My amiable neighbor, young man: I have learned of your goodness to me, that you paid my rent six months ago. I bless you, young man. My eldest daughter will tell you that we have been without a morsel of bread for two days, four persons and my spouse ill. If I am not deseaved in my opinion, I think I may hope that your generous heart will melt at this statement and the desire will subjugate you to be propitious to me by daigning to lavish on me a slight favor.
I am with the distinguished consideration which is due to the benefactors of humanity,-- Jondrette.
P.S. My eldest daughter will await your orders, dear Monsieur Marius.
This letter, coming in the very midst of the mysterious adventure which had occupied Marius' thoughts ever since the preceding evening, was like a candle in a cellar. All was suddenly illuminated.
This letter came from the same place as the other four. There was the same writing, the same style, the same orthography, the same paper, the same odor of tobacco.
There were five missives, five histories, five signatures, and a single signer. The Spanish Captain Don Alvares, the unhappy Mistress Balizard, the dramatic poet Genflot, the old comedian Fabantou, were all four named Jondrette, if, indeed, Jondrette himself were named Jondrette.
Marius had lived in the house for a tolerably long time, and he had had, as we have said, but very rare occasion to see, to even catch a glimpse of, his extremely mean neighbors. His mind was elsewhere, and where the mind is, there the eyes are also. He had been obliged more than once to pass the Jondrettes in the corridor or on the stairs; but they were mere forms to him; he had paid so little heed to them, that, on the preceding evening, he had jostled the Jondrette girls on the boulevard, without recognizing them, for it had evidently been they, and it was with great difficulty that the one who had just entered his room had awakened in him, in spite of disgust and pity, a vague recollection of having met her elsewhere.
Now he saw everything clearly. He understood that his neighbor Jondrette, in his distress, exercised the industry of speculating on the charity of benevolent persons, that he procured addresses, and that he wrote under feigned names to people whom he judged to be wealthy and compassionate, letters which his daughters delivered at their risk and peril, for this father had come to such a pass,that he risked his daughters; he was playing a game with fate, and he used them as the stake. Marius understood that probably, judging from their flight on the evening before, from their breathless condition, from their terror and from the words of slang which he had overheard, these unfortunate creatures were plying some inexplicably sad profession, and that the result of the whole was, in the midst of human society, as it is now constituted, two miserable beings who were neither girls nor women, a species of impure and innocent monsters produced by misery.
Sad creatures, without name, or sex, or age, to whom neither good nor evil were any longer possible, and who, on emerging from childhood, have already nothing in this world, neither liberty, nor virtue, nor responsibility. Souls which blossomed out yesterday, and are faded to-day, like those flowers let fall in the streets, which are soiled with every sort of mire, while waiting for some wheel to crush them. Nevertheless, while Marius bent a pained and astonished gaze on her, the young girl was wandering back and forth in the garret with the audacity of a spectre. She kicked about, without troubling herself as to her nakedness. Occasionally her chemise, which was untied and torn, fell almost to her waist. She moved the chairs about,she disarranged the toilet articles which stood on the commode,she handled Marius' clothes, she rummaged about to see what therewas in the corners.
"Hullo!" said she, "you have a mirror!"
And she hummed scraps of vaudevilles, as though she had been alone, frolicsome refrains which her hoarse and guttural voice rendered lugubrious.
An indescribable constraint, weariness, and humiliation were perceptible beneath this hardihood. Effrontery is a disgrace.
Nothing could be more melancholy than to see her sport about the room, and, so to speak, flit with the movements of a bird which is frightened by the daylight, or which has broken its wing. One felt that under other conditions of education and destiny, the gay and over-free mien of this young girl might have turned out sweet and charming. Never, even among animals, does the creature born to be a dove change into an osprey. That is only to be seen among men.
Marius reflected, and allowed her to have her way.
She approached the table.
"Ah!" said she, "books!"
A flash pierced her glassy eye. She resumed, anter: `Is it a gentleman?' My sister said to me: `I think it is a gentleman.'"
In the meanwhile she had unfolded the petition addressed to "the benevolent gentleman of the church of Saint-Jacquesdu-Haut-Pas."
"Here!" said she, "this is for that old fellow who goes to mass. By the way, this is his hour. I'll go and carry it to him.
Perhaps he will give us something to breakfast on."
Then she began to laugh again, and added:--
"Do you know what it will mean if we get a breakfast today? It will mean that we shall have had our breakfast of the day before yesterday, our breakfast of yesterday, our dinner of to-day, and all that at once, and this morning. Come! Parbleu! if you are not satisfied, dogs, burst!"
This reminded i T?
She dipped her pen in the ink, and turning to Marius:--
"Do you want to see? Look here, I'm going to write a word to show you."
And before he had time to answer, she wrote on a sheet of white paper,which lay in the middle of the table: "The bobbies are here."
Then throwing down the pen:--
"There are no faults of orthography. You can look. We have received an education, my sister and I. We have not always been as we are now. We were not made--"
Here she paused, fixed her dull eyes on Marius, and burst out laughing, saying, with an intonation which contained every form of anguish, stifled by every form of cynicism:--
"Bah!"
And she began to hum these words to a gay air:--
"J'ai faim, mon pere." I am hungry, father. Pas de fricot. I have no food. J'ai froid, ma mere. I am cold, mother. Pas de tricot. I have no clothes. Grelotte, Lolotte! Lolotte! Shiver, Sanglote, Sob, Jacquot!" Jacquot!"
She had hardly finished this couplet, when she exexclaimed:--
"Do you ever go to the play, Monsieur Marius? I do. I have a little brother who is a friend of the artists, and who gives me tickets sometimes. But I don't like the benches in the galleries. One is cramped and uncomfortable there. There are rough people there sometimes; and people who smell bad."
Then she scrutinized Marius, assumed a singular air and said:--
"Do you know, Mr. Marius, that you are a very handsome fellow?"
And at the same moment the same idea occurred to them both, and made her smile and him blush. She stepped up to him, and laid her hand on his shoulder: "You pay no heed to me, but I know you, Mr. Marius. I meet you here on the staircase, and then I often see you going to a person named Father Mabeuf who lives in the direction of Austerlitz, sometimes when I have been strolling in that quarter.
It is very becoming to you to have your hair tumbled thus."
She tried to render her voice soft, but only succeeded in making it very deep. A portion of her words was lost in the transit from her larynx to her lips, as though on a piano where some notes are missing. Marius had retreated gently.
"Mademoiselle," said he, with his cool gravity, "I have here a package which belongs to you, I think. Permit me to return it to you."
And he held out the envelope containing the four letters.
She clapped her hands and exclaimed:--
"We have been looking everywhere for that!"
Then she eagerly seized the package and opened the envelope, saying as she did so:--
"Dieu de Dieu! how my sister and I have hunted! And it was you who found it! On the boulevard, was it not? It must have been on the boulevard? You see, we let it fall when we were running. It was that brat of a sister of mine who was so stupid. When we got home, we could not find it anywhere. As we did not wish to be beaten, as that is useless, as that is entirely useless, as that is absolutely useless, we said that we had carried the letters to the proper persons, and that they had said to us: `Nix.' So here they are, those poor letters! And how did you find out that they belonged to me? Ah! yes, the writing. So it was you that we jostled as we passed last night. We couldn't see. I said to my sister: `Is it a gentleman?' My sister said to me: `I think it is a gentleman.'"
In the meanwhile she had unfolded the petition addressed to "the benevolent gentleman of the church of Saint-Jacquesdu-Haut-Pas."
"Here!" said she, "this is for that old fellow who goes to mass. By the way, this is his hour. I'll go and carry it to him.
Perhaps he will give us something to breakfast on."
Then she began to laugh again, and added:--
"Do you know what it will mean if we get a breakfast today? It will mean that we shall have had our breakfast of the day before yesterday, our breakfast of yesterday, our dinner of to-day, and all that at once, and this morning. Come! Parbleu! if you are not satisfied, dogs, burst!"
This reminded Marius of the wretched girl's errand to himself. He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket, and found nothing there.
The young girl went on, and seemed to have no consciousness of Marius' presence.
"I often go off in the evening. Sometimes I don't come home again. Last winter, before we came here, we lived under the arches of the bridges. We huddled together to keep from freezing. My little sister cried. How melancholy the water is! When I thought of drowning myself, I said to myself: `No, it's too cold.' I go out alone, whenever I choose, I sometimes sleep in the ditches. Do you know, at night, when I walk along the boulevard, I see the trees like forks, I see houses, all black and as big as Notre Dame, I fancy that the white walls are the river, I say to myself: `Why, there's water there!' The stars are like the lamps in illuminations, one would say that they smoked and that the wind blew them out, I am bewildered, as though horses were breathing in my ears; although it is night, I hear hand-organs and spinning-machines, and I don't know what all. I think people are flinging stones at me, I flee without knowing whither, everything whirls and whirls. You feel very queer when you have had no food."
And then she stared at him with a bewildered air.
By dint of searching and ransacking his pockets, Marius had finally collected five francs sixteen sous. This was all he owned in the world for the moment. "At all events," he thought, "there is my dinner for to-day, and to-morrow we will see." He kept the sixteen sous, and handed the five francs to the young girl.
She seized the coin.
"Good!" said she, "the sun is shining!"
And, as though the sun had possessed the property of melting the avalanches of slang in her brain, she went on:--
"Five francs! the shiner! a monarch! in this hole! Ain't this fine! You're a jolly thief! I'm your humble servant! Bravo for the good fellows! Two days' wine! and meat! and stew! we'll have a royal feast! and a good fill!"
She pulled her chemise up on her shoulders, made a low bow to Marius, then a familiar sign with her hand, and went towards the door, saying:--
"Good morning, sir. It's all right. I'll go and find my old man."
As she passed, she caught sight of a dry crust of bread on the commode, which was moulding there amid the dust; she flung herself upon it and bit into it, muttering:--
"That's good! it's hard! it breaks my teeth!"
Then she departed.
一个极年轻的姑娘站在半开着的门口。那间破屋子的天窗正对着房门，昏暗的光从上面透进来，照着姑娘的脸。那是个苍白、瘦弱、枯干的人儿，她只穿了一件衬衫和一条裙，裸露的身子冻得发抖。一根绳子代替腰带，另一根绳子代替帽子，两个尖肩头从衬衫里顶出来，淋巴液色的白皮肤，满是尘垢的锁骨，通红的手，嘴半开着，两角下垂，缺着几个牙，眼睛无神，大胆而下贱，体形象个未长成的姑娘，眼神象个堕落的老妇，五十岁和十五岁混在一起，是一个那种无一处不脆弱而又令人畏惧，叫人见了不伤心便要寒心的人儿。
马吕斯站了起来，心里颤抖抖的，望着这个和梦中所见的那种黑影相似的人。
尤其令人痛心的是，这姑娘并非生来便是应当变丑的，在她童年的初期，甚至还是生得标致的。青春的风采也仍在跟堕落与贫苦所招致的老丑作斗争。美的余韵在这张十六岁的脸上尚存有奄奄一息，正如隆冬拂晓消失在丑恶乌云后面的惨淡朝辉。
这张脸在马吕斯看来并不是完全陌生的。他觉得还能回忆起在什么地方见到过。
“您要什么，姑娘？”他问。
姑娘以她那酗酒的苦役犯的声音回答说：
“这儿有一封信是给您的，马吕斯先生。”
她称他马吕斯，毫无疑问，她要找的一定是他了，可是这姑娘是什么人？她怎么会知道他的名字呢？
不经邀请，她便走进来了。她果断地走了进来，用一种叫人心里难受的镇静态度望着整个屋子和那张散乱的床。她赤着脚，裙子上有不少大窟窿，露出她的长腿和瘦膝头。她正冷得发抖。
她手里真捏着一封信，交给了马吕斯。
马吕斯拆信时，注意到信封口上那条又宽又厚的面糊还是潮的，足见不会来自很远的地方。他念道：
我可爱的邻居，青年人：
我已经知道您对我的好处，您在六个月以前替我付了一个季度的租金。我为您祝福，青年人。我的大闺女将告诉您：“两天了，我们没有一块面包，四个大人，内人害着病。”假使我在思想上一点也不悲关，我认为应当希望您的慷慨的心能为这个报告实行人道化，并将助我的愿望强加于您，惠我以轻薄的好事。
我满怀对于人中善士应有的突出的敬意。
容德雷特。
再启者：小女净候您的分付，亲爱的马吕斯先生。
马吕斯见了这封信，象在黑洞里见到了烛光，从昨晚起便困惑不解的谜，顿时全清楚了。
这封信和另外那四封，来自同一个地方。同样的字迹，同样的笔调，同样的别字，同样的信纸，同样的烟草味儿。一共五封信，五种说法，五个人名，五种签字，而只有一个写信人。西班牙队长堂·阿尔瓦内茨、不幸的巴利查儿妈妈、诗人尚弗洛、老戏剧演员法邦杜，这四个人全叫做容德雷特，假使这容德雷特本人确实是容德雷特的话。
马吕斯住在这栋破房子里已有一段相当长的时间了，我们说过，他只有很少的机会能见到，也只能说略微见到，他那非常卑贱的邻居。他的精神另有所注，而精神所注的地方也正是目光所注之处。他在过道里或楼梯上靠近容德雷特家的人对面走过应当不止一次，但是对他来说，那只是些幢幢人影而已，他在这方面是那么不经心，所以昨晚在大路上碰到那两个容德雷特姑娘，竟没有认出是她们棗显然是她们两个。刚才这一个走进了他的屋子，他也只是感到又可厌又可怜，同时恍惚觉得自己曾在什么地方遇见过她。
现在他看清楚了一切。他认识到他这位邻居容德雷特处境困难，依靠剥削那些行善人的布施来维持生活。他搜集一些人名地址，挑出一些他认为有钱并且肯施小恩小惠的人，捏造一些假名写信给他们，让他的两个女孩冒着危险去送信。想不到这个做父亲的竟走到了不惜牺牲女儿的地步，他是在和命运进行一场以两个女儿为赌注的赌博。马吕斯认识到，从昨晚她们的那种逃跑的行径，呼吸促迫的情形，惊慌的样子，以及从她们嘴里听到的粗鄙语言来看，极可能这两个不幸的娃子还在干着一种人所不知的暧昧的事，而从这一切产生出来的后果，是人类社会的现实，两个既不是孩子，也不是姑娘，也不是妇人的悲惨生物，两个那种由艰苦贫困中产生出来的不纯洁而天真的怪物。
一些令人痛心的生物，无所谓姓名，无所谓年龄，无所谓性别，已不再能辨别什么是善什么是恶，走出童年，便失去世上的一切，不再有自由，不再有贞操，不再有责任。昨天才吐放今日便枯萎的灵魂，正如那些落在街心的花朵，溅满了污泥，只等一个车轮来碾烂。
可是，正当马吕斯以惊奇痛苦的目光注视着她时，那姑娘却象个幽灵，不管自己衣不蔽体，在他的破屋子里无所顾忌地来回走动。有时，她那件披开的、撕裂的衬衫几乎落到了腰际。她搬动椅子，她移乱那些放在抽斗柜上的盥洗用具，她摸摸马吕斯的衣服，她翻看每个角落里的零星东西。
“嘿！”她说，“您有一面镜子。”
她还旁若无人地低声哼着闹剧里一些曲调的片断，一些疯疯癫癫的叠句，用她那沙哑的嗓子哼得惨不忍闻。从这种没有顾忌的行动里冒出了一种无以名之的叫人感到拘束、担心、丢人的味儿。无耻也就是可耻。
望着她在这屋子里乱走乱动棗应当说乱飞乱扑，象个受阳光惊扰或是断了一个翅膀的小鸟，确是再没有什么比这更使人愁惨的了。你会感到在另外一种受教育的情况下或另一种环境中，姑娘这种活泼自在的动作也许还能给人以温顺可爱的印象。在动物中，一个生来要成为白鸽的生物是从来不会变成猛禽的。这种事只会发生在人类中。
马吕斯心里暗暗这样想着，让她行动。
她走到桌子旁边，说：
“啊！书！”
一点微光透过她那双昏暗的眼睛。接着，她又说棗她的语调显出那种能在某方面表现一下自己一点长处的幸福，这是任何人都不会感觉不到的：
“我能念书，我。”
她兴冲冲地拿起那本摊开在桌上的书，并且念得相当流利：
“……博丹将军接到命令，率领他那一旅的五连人马去夺取滑铁卢平原中央的乌古蒙古堡……”
她停下来说：
“啊！滑铁卢！我知道这是什么。这是从前打仗的地方。我父亲到过那里。我父亲在军队里待过。我们一家人是地地道道的波拿巴派，懂吧！那是打英国佬，滑铁卢。”
她放下书，拿起一支笔，喊道：
“我也能写字！”
她把那支笔蘸上墨水，转回头望着马吕斯说：
“您要看吗？瞧，我来写几个字看看。”
他还没有来得及回答，她已在桌子中间的一张纸上写了“雷子来了”这几个字。
接着，丢下笔，说：
我没有拼写错。您可以瞧。我们受过教育，我的妹子和我。
我们从前不是现在这个样子。我们没有打算要当……”
说到这里，她停住了，她那阴惨无神的眼睛定定地望着马吕斯，继又忽然大笑，用一种包含着被一切兽行憋在心头的一切辛酸苦楚的语调说道：
“呸！”
接着，她又用一个轻快的曲调哼着这样的句子：
我饿了，爸爸，
没得吃的。
我冷呀，妈妈，
没有穿的。
嗦嗦抖吧，
小罗罗。
哭鼻子吧，
小雅各。
她还没有哼完这词儿，又喊着说：
“您有时也去看戏吗，马吕斯先生？我，我是常去的。我有一个个弟弟，他和那些艺术家交上了朋友，他时常拿了入场券送给我。老实说，我不喜欢边厢里的那种条凳。坐在那里不方便，不舒服。有时人太挤了，还有一些人，身上一股味儿怪难闻的。”
随后，她仔细端详马吕斯，表现出一种奇特的神情，对他说：
“您知道吗，马吕斯先生？您是个非常美的男子。”
他俩的心里同时产生了同一思想，使她笑了出来，也使他涨红了脸。
她挨近他身边，把一只手放在他的肩上说：
“您从不注意我，但是我认识您，马吕斯先生。我常在这儿的楼梯上遇见您。有几次，我到奥斯特里茨那边去遛弯儿，我还看见您走到住在那里的马白夫公公家去。这对您很合适，您这头蓬蓬松松的头发。”
她想把她说话的声音装得非常柔和，结果却只能发出极沉的声音。一部分字消失在从喉头到嘴唇那一段路上了，活象在一个缺弦的键盘上弹琴。
马吕斯慢慢地向后退。
“姑娘，”他带着冷淡的严肃神情说，“我这儿有一个包，我想是您的。请允许我拿还给您。”
他便把那包着四封信的信封递了给她。
她连连拍手，叫道：
“我们四处好找！”
于是她连忙接过那纸包，打开那信封，一面说：
“上帝的上帝！我们哪里没有找过，我的妹子和我！您倒把它找着了！在大路上找着的，不是吗？应当是在大路上吧？您瞧，是我们在跑的时候丢了的。是我那宝贝妹子干的好事。回到家里，我们找不着了。因为我们不愿挨揍，挨揍没有什么好处，完全没有什么好处，绝对没有什么好处，我们便在家里说，我们已把那些信送到了，人家对我们说：‘去你们的！’想不到会在这儿，这些倒霉信！您从哪里看出了这些信是我的呢？啊！对，看写的字！那么昨晚我们在路上碰着的是您了。我们看不见，懂吗！我对我妹子说：‘是一位先生吧？’我妹子对我说：‘我想是一位先生！’”
这时，她展开了那封写给“圣雅克·德·奥·巴教堂的行善的先生”的信。
“对！”她说，“这便是给那望弥撒的老头的。现在正是时候。我去送给他。他也许能有点什么给我们去弄一顿早饭吃吃。”
随后，她又笑起来，接着说：
“您知道我们今天要是有早饭吃的话，会怎样吗？会这样：我们会在今天早上把前天的早饭、前天的晚饭、昨天的早饭、昨天的晚饭，做一顿同时全吃下去。嘿！天晓得！你还不高兴，饿死活该！狗东西！”
这话促使马吕斯想起了这苦娃子是为了什么到这屋子里来找他的。
他掏着自己的背心口袋，什么也掏不出。
那姑娘继续往下说，仿佛她已忘了马吕斯在她旁边：“有时我晚上出去。有时我不回家。在搬到这儿来住以前，那年冬天，我们住在桥拱下面。大家挤做一团，免得冻死。我的小妹妹老是哭。水，这东西，见了多么寒心！当我想到要把自己淹死在水里，我说：‘不，这太冷了。’我可以随意四处跑，有时我便跑去睡在阴沟里。您知道吗，半夜里，我在大路上走着时，我看见那些树，就象是些大铁叉，我看见一些漆黑的房子，大得象圣母院的塔，我以为那些白墙是河，我对自己说：‘嘿！这儿也是水。’星星好象是扎彩的纸灯笼，看去好象星星也冒烟，要被风吹熄似的。我的头晕了，好象有好多匹马在我耳朵里吹气。尽管是在半夜里，我还听见摇手风琴的声音，纱厂里的机器声，我也搞不清楚还有什么声音了，我。我觉得有人对我砸石头，我也不管，赶紧逃，一切都打转儿，一切都打转儿。肚子里没吃东西，这真好玩。”
她又呆呆地望着他。
马吕斯在他所有的衣袋里掏了挖了好一阵，终于凑集了五个法郎和十六个苏。这是他当时的全部财富。“这已够我今天吃晚饭的了，”他心里想，“明天再说。”他留下了十六个苏，把五法郎给那姑娘。
她抓住钱。说道：
“好呀，太阳出来了。”
这太阳好象有能力融化她脑子里的积雪，把她的一连串黑话象雪崩似的引了出来，她继续说道：
“五个法郎！亮晶晶的！一枚大头！在这破窑里！真棒！您是个好孩子。我把我的心送给你。我们可以打牙祭了！喝两天酒了！吃肉了！炖牛羊鸡鸭大锅肉了！大吃大喝！还有好汤！”
她把衬衣提上肩头，向马吕斯深深行了个礼，接着又作了个亲昵的手势，转身朝房门走去，一面说道：
“再见，先生。没有关系。我去找我的老头子。”
走过抽斗柜时，她看见那上面有一块在尘土中发霉的干面包壳，她扑了上去，拿来一面啃，一面嘟囔：
“真好吃！好硬哟！把我的牙也咬断了！”