the hunchback of notre dame-第59节

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〃Very　good；　Master　Pierre；　but　how　comes　it　that　you　are　now　in　company　with　that　gypsy　dancer？〃

〃In　faith！〃　said　Gringoire；　〃'tis　because　she　is　my　wife　and　I　am　her　husband。〃

The　priest's　gloomy　eyes　flashed　into　flame。

〃Have　you　done　that；　you　wretch！〃　he　cried；　seizing　Gringoire's　arm　with　fury；　〃have　you　been　so　abandoned　by　God　as　to　raise　your　hand　against　that　girl？〃

〃On　my　chance　of　paradise；　monseigneur；〃　replied　Gringoire；　trembling　in　every　limb；　〃I　swear　to　you　that　I　have　never　touched　her；　if　that　is　what　disturbs　you。〃

〃Then　why　do　you　talk　of　husband　and　wife？〃　said　the　priest。　Gringoire　made　haste　to　relate　to　him　as　succinctly　as　possible；　all　that　the　reader　already　knows；　his　adventure　in　the　Court　of　Miracles　and　the　broken…crock　marriage。　　It　appeared；　moreover；　that　this　marriage　had　led　to　no　results　whatever；　and　that　each　evening　the　gypsy　girl　cheated　him　of　his　nuptial　right　as　on　the　first　day。　　〃'Tis　a　mortification；〃　he　said　in　conclusion；　〃but　that　is　because　I　have　had　the　misfortune　to　wed　a　virgin。〃

〃What　do　you　mean？〃　demanded　the　archdeacon；　who　had　been　gradually　appeased　by　this　recital。

〃'Tis　very　difficult　to　explain；〃　replied　the　poet。　　〃It　is　a　superstition。　　My　wife　is；　according　to　what　an　old　thief；　who　is　called　among　us　the　Duke　of　Egypt；　has　told　me；　a　foundling　or　a　lost　child；　which　is　the　same　thing。　　She　wears　on　her　neck　an　amulet　which；　it　is　affirmed；　will　cause　her　to　meet　her　parents　some　day；　but　which　will　lose　its　virtue　if　the　young　girl　loses　hers。　　Hence　it　follows　that　both　of　us　remain　very　virtuous。〃

〃So；〃　resumed　Claude；　whose　brow　cleared　more　and　more；　〃you　believe；　Master　Pierre；　that　this　creature　has　not　been　approached　by　any　man？〃

〃What　would　you　have　a　man　do；　Dom　Claude；　as　against　a　superstition？　　She　has　got　that　in　her　head。　　I　assuredly　esteem　as　a　rarity　this　nunlike　prudery　which　is　preserved　untamed　amid　those　Bohemian　girls　who　are　so　easily　brought　into　subjection。　　But　she　has　three　things　to　protect　her：　the　Duke　of　Egypt；　who　has　taken　her　under　his　safeguard；　reckoning；　perchance；　on　selling　her　to　some　gay　abbé；　all　his　tribe；　who　hold　her　in　singular　veneration；　like　a　Notre…Dame；　and　a　certain　tiny　poignard；　which　the　buxom　dame　always　wears　about　her；　in　some　nook；　in　spite　of　the　ordinances　of　the　provost；　and　which　one　causes　to　fly　out　into　her　hands　by　squeezing　her　waist。　　'Tis　a　proud　wasp；　I　can　tell　you！〃

The　archdeacon　pressed　Gringoire　with　questions。

La　Esmeralda；　in　the　judgment　of　Gringoire；　was　an　inoffensive　and　charming　creature；　pretty；　with　the　exception　of　a　pout　which　was　peculiar　to　her；　a　na？ve　and　passionate　damsel；　ignorant　of　everything　and　enthusiastic　about　everything；　not　yet　aware　of　the　difference　between　a　man　and　a　woman；　even　in　her　dreams；　made　like　that；　wild　especially　over　dancing；　noise；　the　open　air；　a　sort　of　woman　bee；　with　invisible　wings　on　her　feet；　and　living　in　a　whirlwind。　　She　owed　this　nature　to　the　wandering　life　which　she　had　always　led。　　Gringoire　had　succeeded　in　learning　that；　while　a　mere　child；　she　had　traversed　Spain　and　Catalonia；　even　to　Sicily；　he　believed　that　she　had　even　been　taken　by　the　caravan　of　Zingari；　of　which　she　formed　a　part；　to　the　kingdom　of　Algiers；　a　country　situated　in　Achaia；　which　country　adjoins；　on　one　side　Albania　and　Greece；　on　the　other；　the　Sicilian　Sea；　which　is　the　road　to　Constantinople。　　The　Bohemians；　said　Gringoire；　were　vassals　of　the　King　of　Algiers；　in　his　quality　of　chief　of　the　White　Moors。　　One　thing　is　certain；　that　la　Esmeralda　had　come　to　France　while　still　very　young；　by　way　of　Hungary。　　From　all　these　countries　the　young　girl　had　brought　back　fragments　of　queer　jargons；　songs；　and　strange　ideas；　which　made　her　language　as　motley　as　her　costume；　half　Parisian；　half　African。　　However；　the　people　of　the　quarters　which　she　frequented　loved　her　for　her　gayety；　her　daintiness；　her　lively　manners；　her　dances；　and　her　songs。　　She　believed　herself　to　be　hated；　in　all　the　city；　by　but　two　persons；　of　whom　she　often　spoke　in　terror：　the　sacked　nun　of　the　Tour…Roland；　a　villanous　recluse　who　cherished　some　secret　grudge　against　these　gypsies；　and　who　cursed　the　poor　dancer　every　time　that　the　latter　passed　before　her　window；　and　a　priest；　who　never　met　her　without　casting　at　her　looks　and　words　which　frightened　her。

The　mention　of　this　last　circumstance　disturbed　the　archdeacon　greatly；　though　Gringoire　paid　no　attention　to　his　perturbation；　to　such　an　extent　had　two　months　sufficed　to　cause　the　heedless　poet　to　forget　the　singular　details　of　the　evening　on　which　he　had　met　the　gypsy；　and　the　presence　of　the　archdeacon　in　it　all。　　Otherwise；　the　little　dancer　feared　nothing；　she　did　not　tell　fortunes；　which　protected　her　against　those　trials　for　magic　which　were　so　frequently　instituted　against　gypsy　women。　　And　then；　Gringoire　held　the　position　of　her　brother；　if　not　of　her　husband。　　After　all；　the　philosopher　endured　this　sort　of　platonic　marriage　very　patiently。　　It　meant　a　shelter　and　bread　at　least。　　Every　morning；　he　set　out　from　the　lair　of　the　thieves；　generally　with　the　gypsy；　he　helped　her　make　her　collections　of　targes*　and　little　blanks**　in　the　squares；　each　evening　he　returned　to　the　same　roof　with　her；　allowed　her　to　bolt　herself　into　her　little　chamber；　and　slept　the　sleep　of　the　just。　　A　very　sweet　existence；　taking　it　all　in　all；　he　said；　and　well　adapted　to　revery。　　And　then；　on　his　soul　and　conscience；　the　philosopher　was　not　very　sure　that　he　was　madly　in　love　with　the　gypsy。　　He　loved　her　goat　almost　as　dearly。　　It　was　a　charming　animal；　gentle；　intelligent；　clever；　a　learned　goat。　　Nothing　was　more　common　in　the　Middle　Ages　than　these　learned　animals；　which　amazed　people　greatly；　and　often　led　their　instructors　to　the　stake。　　But　the　witchcraft　of　the　goat　with　the　golden　hoofs　was　a　very　innocent　species　of　magic。　　Gringoire　explained　them　to　the　archdeacon；　whom　these　details　seemed　to　interest　deeply。　　In　the　majority　of　cases；　it　was　sufficient　to　present　the　tambourine　to　the　goat　in　such　or　such　a　manner；　in　order　to　obtain　from　him　the　trick　desired。　　He　had　been　trained　to　this　by　the　gypsy；　who　possessed；　in　these　delicate　arts；　so　rare　a　talent　that　two　months　had　sufficed　to　teach　the　goat　to　write；　with　movable　letters；　the　word　〃Phoebus。〃


*　　An　ancient　Burgundian　coin。

**　An　ancient　French　coin。


〃'Phoebus！'〃　said　the　priest；　〃why　'Phoebus'？〃

〃I　know　not；〃　replied　Gringoire。　　〃Perhaps　it　is　a　word　which　she　believes　to　be　endowed　with　some　magic　and　secret　virtue。　　She　often　repeats　it　in　a　low　tone　when　she　thinks　that　she　is　alone。〃

〃Are　you　sure；〃　persisted　Claude；　with　his　penetrating　glance；　〃that　it　is　only　a　word　and　not　a　name？〃

〃The　name　of　whom？〃　said　the　poet。

〃How　should　I　know？〃　said　the　priest。

〃This　is　what　I　imagine；　messire。　　These　Bohemians　are　something　like　Guebrs；　and　adore　the　sun。　　Hence；　Phoebus。〃

〃That　does　not　seem　so　clear　to　me　as　to　you；　Master　Pierre。〃

〃After　all；　that　does　not　concern　me。　　Let　her　mumble　her　Phoebus　at　her　pleasure。　　One　thing　is　certain；　that　Djali　loves　me　almost　as　much　as　he　does　her。〃

〃Who　is　Djali？〃

〃The　goat。〃

The　archdeacon　dropped　his　chin　into　his　hand；　and　appeared　to　reflect　for　a　moment。　　All　at　once　he　turned　abruptly　to　Gringoire　once　more。

〃And　do　you　swear　to　me　that　you　have　not　touched　her？〃

〃Whom？〃　said　Gringoire；　〃the　goat？〃

〃No；　that　woman。〃

〃My　wife？　　I　swear　to　you　that　I　have　not。〃

〃You　are　often　alone　with　her？〃

〃A　good　hour　every　evening。〃

Porn　Claude　frowned。

〃Oh！　oh！　~Solus　cum　sola　non　cogitabuntur　orare　Pater　Noster~。〃

〃Upon　my　soul；　I　could　say　the　~Pater~；　and　the　~Ave　Maria~；　and　the　~Credo　in　Deum　patrem　omnipotentem~　without　her　paying　any　more　attention　to　me　than　a　chicken　to　a　church。〃

〃Swear　to　me；　by　the　body　of　your　mother；〃　repeated　the　archdeacon　violently；　〃that　you　have　not　touched　that　creature　with　even　the　tip　of　your　finger。〃

〃I　will　also　swear　it　by　the　head　of　my　father；　for　the　two　things　have　more　affinity　between　them。　　But；　my　reverend　master；　permit　me　a　question　in　my　turn。〃

〃Speak；　sir。〃

〃What　concern　is　it　of　yours？〃

The　archdeacon's　pale　face　became　as　crimson　as　the　cheek　of　a　young　girl。　　He　remained　for　a　moment　without　answering；　then；　with　visible　embarrassment；

〃Listen；　Master　Pierre　Gringoire。　　You　are　not　yet　damned；　so　far　as　I　know。　　I　take　an　interest　in　you；　and　wish　you　well。　　Now　the　least　contact　with　that　Egyptian　of　the　demon　would　make　you　the　vassal　of　Satan。　　You　know　that　'tis　always　the　body　which　ruins　the　soul。　　Woe　to　you　if　you　approach　that　woman！　　That　is　all。〃

〃I　tried　once；〃　said　Gringoire；　scratching　his　ear；　〃it　was　the　first　day：　but　I　got　stung。〃

〃You　were　so　audacious；　Master　Pierre？〃　and　the　priest's　brow　clouded　over　again。

〃On　another　occasion；〃　continued　the　poet；　with　a　smile；　〃I　peeped　through　the　keyhole；　before　going　to　bed；　and　I　beheld　the　most　delicious　dame　in　her　shift　that　ever　made　a　bed　creak　under　her　bare　foot。〃

〃Go　to　the　devil！〃　cried　the　priest；　with　a　terrible　look；　and；　giving　the　amazed　Gringoire　a　push　on　the　shoulders；