双语·邦斯舅舅 六十九、老鳏夫的葬礼
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LIX
And now comes a great difficulty, continued the master of the ceremonies; "we want four bearers for the pall.... If nobody comes to the funeral, who is to fill the corners? It is half-past ten already," he added, looking at his watch; "they are waiting for us at the church."
Oh! here comes Fraisier! Villemot exclaimed, very imprudently; but there was no one to hear the tacit confession of complicity.
Who is this gentleman? inquired the master of the ceremonies.
Oh! he comes on behalf of the family.
Whose family?
The disinherited family. He is M. Camusot de Marville's repre-sentative.
Good, said the master of the ceremonies, with a satisfied air. "We shall have two pall-bearers at any rate—you and he."
And, happy to find two of the places filled up, he took out some wonderful white buckskin gloves, and politely presented Fraisier and Villemot with a pair apiece.
If you gentlemen will be so good as to act as pall-bearers— said he.
Fraisier, in black from head to foot, pretentiously dressed, with his white tie and official air, was a sight to shudder at; he embodied a hundred briefs.
Willingly, sir, said he.
If only two more persons will come, the four corners will be filled up, said the master of the ceremonies.
At that very moment the indefatigable representative of the firm of Sonet came up, and, closely following him, the man who remembered Pons and thought of paying him a last tribute of respect. This was a supernumerary at the theatre, the man who put out the scores on the music-stands for the orchestra. Pons had been wont to give him a five-franc piece once a month, knowing that he had a wife and family.
Oh, Dobinard (Topinard)! Schmucke cried out at the sight of him, "you love Bons!"
Why, I have come to ask news of M. Pons every morning, sir.
Efery morning! boor Dobinard! and Schmucke squeezed the man's hand.
But they took me for a relation, no doubt, and did not like my visits at all. I told them that I belonged to the theatre and came to inquire after M. Pons; but it was no good. They saw through that dodge, they said. I asked to see the poor dear man, but they never would let me come upstairs.
Dat apominable Zipod! said Schmucke, squeezing Topinard's horny hand to his heart.
He was the best of men, that good M. Pons. Every month he use to give me five francs.... He knew that I had three children and a wife. My wife has gone to the church.
I shall difide mein pread mit you, cried Schmucke, in his joy at finding at his side some one who loved Pons.
If this gentleman will take a corner of the pall, we shall have all four filled up, said the master of the ceremonies.
There had been no difficulty over persuading the agent for monuments. He took a corner the more readily when he was shown the handsome pair of gloves which, according to custom, was to be his property.
A quarter to eleven! We absolutely must go down. They are waiting for us at the church.
The six persons thus assembled went down the staircase. The cold-blooded lawyer remained a moment to speak to the two women on the landing.
Stop here, and let nobody come in, he said, "especially if you wish to remain in charge, Mme. Cantinet. Aha! two francs a day, you know!"
By a coincidence in nowise extraordinary in Paris, two hearses were waiting at the door, and two coffins standing under the archway; Cibot's funeral and the solitary state in which Pons was lying was made even more striking in the street. Schmucke was the only mourner that followed Pons' coffin; Schmucke, supported by one of the undertaker's men, for he tottered at every step. From the Rue de Normandie to the Rue d'Orleans and the Church of Saint-Francois the two funerals went between a double row of curious onlookers for everything (as was said before) makes a sensation in the quarter. Every one remarked the splendor of the white funeral car, with a big embroidered P suspended on a hatchment, and the one solitary mourner behind it; while the cheap bier that came after it was followed by an immense crowd. Happily, Schmucke was so bewildered by the throng of idlers and the rows of heads in the windows, that he heard no remarks and only saw the faces through a mist of tears.
Oh, it is the nutcracker! said one, "the musician, you know—"
Who can the pall-bearers be?
Pooh! play-actors.
I say, just look at poor old Cibot's funeral. There is one worker the less. What a man! he could never get enough of work!
He never went out.
He never kept Saint Monday.
How fond he was of his wife!
Ah! There is an unhappy woman!
Remonencq walked behind his victim's coffin. People condoled with him on the loss of his neighbor.
六十九、老鳏夫的葬礼
“现在我们可碰到了一个难题，”司仪员说，“灵柩的披挂上有四根绋……哪儿来四个执绋的人呢？……”他掏出表来瞧了瞧，“十点半了，教堂里的人已经等着了。”
“啊！弗莱齐埃来了！”维勒摩冒冒失失地叫了起来。这句话等于承认他们是串通的，可是当场没有人把它记下来。
“这位是谁？”司仪员问。
“哦！是家属方面的。”
“什么家属？”
“被剥夺承继权的家属。他是加缪索庭长的代表。”
“好极了！”司仪员的神气似乎很满意，“我们至少有两个人执绋了，你跟他。”
他因为问题解决了一半觉得挺高兴，过去拿了两副漂亮的白麂皮手套，客客气气地分送给弗莱齐埃与维勒摩：
“你们两位可愿意执绋吗？……”
弗莱齐埃穿得整整齐齐的，黑衣服，白领带，神气俨然，叫人看了直打寒噤。他仿佛把对方罪行的证据都收齐了。
“当然愿意。”他回答。
“只要再来两位，执绋的人数就齐了。”司仪员说。
这时索南公司那个死不放松的跑街又来了，后面跟着一个人，记得邦斯而特意来尽他最后礼数的唯一的人。他是戏院的小职员，在乐队里分发乐谱的当差；邦斯因为知道他要养家活口，平时每个月都给他五法郎酒钱。
“哦！多比那！……”许模克认出了当差，叫起来，“你，你还想到邦斯！……”
“先生，我每天早上都来的，来打听邦斯先生的消息……”
“每天来的！好多比那！……”许模克握着戏院当差的手。
“可是人家大概拿我当作了家属，对我很不客气！我再三声明是戏院里的，要知道邦斯先生的病情，人家可说我扯谎。我想进来看看病人，他们不准我上楼。”
“混账的西卜！……”许模克把当差那只粗糙的手按在胸口。
“邦斯先生是天底下最好的好人，每个月给我五法郎……他知道我有三个孩子一个女人。现在我女人在教堂里等着。”
“以后我跟你有饭大家吃！”许模克因为旁边有个爱邦斯的人，十分高兴。
“你先生可愿意执绋吗？”司仪员过来问，“这样，问题就解决了。”
司仪员没有费什么事，就邀上了索南公司的跑街参加执绋，尤其给他看到了一副漂亮手套，那照例是送给他的。
“十点三刻啦！非下楼不可了……教堂里的人等着呢。”司仪员说。
于是这六个人开始走下楼梯。两个妇女站在楼梯头，可恶的弗莱齐埃吩咐道：
“把屋子关严，守在里头；刚蒂南太太，倘使你想在清点遗产期间当个看屋子的，就得格外留神，嗨！嗨！四十铜子一天的工钱呢！……”
大门口停着两口柩，一口是西卜的，一口是邦斯的，因此同时有两个出殡的行列：这种巧合的事在巴黎也不足为奇。邦斯的柩罩披挂相当光鲜，可是没有一个人来对这位爱美的朋友表示敬意，倒是那看门的，有四邻八舍的门房来给他洒几滴圣水。西卜的哀荣和邦斯身后的寂寞，不但在大门口成为对照，而且在到教堂的路上也是如此。跟在邦斯柩车后面的只有许模克一个人，由司仪员搀着，因为这继承人几乎随时都要倒下来。从诺曼底街到圣·法朗梭阿教堂所在的奥莱昂街，路旁站满了看热闹的人，因为我们以前说过，这个区域里不论什么事都会轰动的。大家看到白色的柩车，柩罩上绣着一个大P字（邦斯姓氏的缩写），只有一个送殡的人；而另一辆普通的柩车，末等殡仪的车马后面，却跟着一大群吊客。幸而许模克给窗口的、路旁的、看热闹的闲人吓呆了，一句话也听不见，而且对那些拥挤的人，他的泪眼也看不大清。
“哦！是榛子钳！……”有人说，“你知道吗，就是那个音乐家！”
“那几个执绋的是谁？……”
“还不是些戏子！”
“呦！这是西卜老头的灵柩了！又少了一个认真的司务！他做活多卖力！”
“也从来不出来玩的，这家伙！”
“他一天也不歇工的。”
“而且对他女人多好！”
“呦！那可怜的寡妇来了！”
雷蒙诺克跟着他的牺牲者的柩车，听众人你一句我一句地追悼他的邻人。
