Chapter 5 Chapter Four
One morning in December, Frederick went to a litigation class and found that the Rue Saint-Jacques was different from the usual, and it was extraordinarily noisy.College students were hurrying out of the coffee shop, and people shouted through the open windows into one house after another.From the sidewalk, shopkeepers watched in panic; the curtains of every house were closed.When he was walking towards Sufeiluo Avenue, he saw that the Pantheon was already full of people.
Some young people, in groups of three or four, sometimes as many as twelve, walked up and down holding hands with each other, and squeezed into the larger crowd around them.At the end of the square, close to the fence, some people who looked like workers were talking loudly.At this moment, a policeman in a three-cornered hat walked back and forth along the base of the wall with his hands behind his back, his leather boots stomping heavily on the road, making a creaking sound.Everyone wears a mysterious and strange expression.It seemed that people were waiting for something to happen; everyone was guessing.
Next to Frederick there was a big blond boy.This young man looks very kind, with two mustaches and a chin, which completely reproduces the hippies of the Louis XIII period.Frederick asked him the cause of the incident.
He replied:
"I don't know anything, and neither do these people! This is the latest fashion these days! How absurd!"
After he finished speaking, he laughed.
Beginning in June, people often instigated riots, such as signing the reform draft petition initiated by the National Guard, the hukou policy proposed by Finance Minister Yuman, and so on.The incidents continued to happen, but the newspapers did not mention them at all.
At this time, the boy standing next to Frederick continued:
"It is inappropriate and meaningless to do so. Let me tell you, this era is not as good as the previous era! Look at the heyday of the reign, and the period, the student movement at that time was really one wave after another High! If you look at the students now, they are all just wood. It’s not bad to set up a small stall and start a small business. It’s too miserable! This is the state of young people now!”
After speaking, he opened his arms like the Hercules Frédéric Lemaitre in "Robert Macaire".
"Students at school, I pray for you!"
As soon as he had finished speaking, he saw a beggar picking oyster shells by the door of a tavern, and he called out to him:
"Hey, are you a student?"
But what he saw was an ugly, dry old face, with a red nose hidden in the gray beard of the old man, looking at him with eyes dulled by alcohol.
"No! You look like one of those mean, spendthrift bastards in the crowd. . . Come on! Spend it! Quick, old patriarch! Pluck me with the Albion fortune! Are you English? I'll accept anything! Let's talk!"
Frederick felt a tap on the shoulder, turned his head and saw that it was Martinon, his face was pale.Just listen to him sigh and say:
"Great! Someone's making trouble again!"
Martinon sighed because he was afraid of being implicated.What worries him in particular is that the group of worker-like people seems to be some kind of "underground social organization".
The young man with the mustache went on:
"Do you really think there is an 'underground organization'! It's just a scam used by the state to deceive the bourgeoisie!"
Frightened, Martinon reminded him to speak softly, lest the police hear him.
"You still think there are policemen! Tell you, sir, do you know if I am a spy?"
He kept his eyes fixed on Martinon, so frightened that Martinon panicked, and at first he didn't even realize that he was joking.The three of them were overwhelmed by the crowd and were pushed up a small flight of stairs; so they climbed the steps, walked through the corridor, and came to a newly built lecture theater.
It was not long before the people offered to move out of the way; most of them took off their hats and saluted the eminent Professor Samuel Londelo.Wearing a loose tuxedo, with glasses raised above his head, the professor walked towards the podium with a calm expression, but he still couldn't control the wheezing sound caused by asthma.He was one of the most authoritative figures in the judiciary in the nineteenth century, and he was at odds with Pai and Pai.At present, he is already a member of the French House of Nobility, but he still looks the same as before, and he has not changed himself at all due to the change of position.People knew he had no money, so they respected him all the more.
At this moment, someone shouted loudly in the square:
"Overthrow Guizot!"
"overthrow!"
"Beat the traitor!"
"overthrow!"
The crowd was pressing against each other until they reached a closed gate in the courtyard, and they stopped the professor.The professor had no choice but to stand in front of the stairs.Not long after, I heard him standing on the third step and speaking.But his speech was completely drowned out by an uproar.
Although people still had a good impression of him just now, it is different now, and they all gritted their teeth with hatred, because he is now the spokesperson of the government.Several times he wanted to let go of his voice to speak, but was drowned out by the shouts of the crowd.So he forcefully made a gesture for the students to follow him in.What he got was still a chorus of yelling and cursing.He shrunk his neck in an air, and rushed into the aisle at once.Martinon took advantage of his geographical advantage and ran away in a hurry.
Frederick said:
"Chicken-hearted!"
"He's playing it safe!" someone replied.
At this time, a strong celebration erupted from the crowd.The professor escaped, which undoubtedly means that everyone has won.Inquisitive faces can be seen through every window.Some people in the crowd were singing "Marseillaise", and some people suggested going home.
"Go home!"
"Let's go there!"
"I think we'd better go home!" shouted the blond young man with the moustache.
The police are endlessly maintaining order, begging everyone in a low voice from time to time:
"Go back! Gentlemen, go, go back!"
Suddenly, someone shouted:
"Destroy the executioner!"
It was a curse word, and people have been saying it ever since.Someone was mocking the security guards, and others were booing.The policeman's face was pale.One of the policemen couldn't control himself. He spotted a short young man who pointed at his nose and laughed at him. He stepped forward and pushed hard, throwing the young man five steps away, and he fell on his back at the door of the tavern.So the crowd dispersed.At the same time, the policeman himself was thrown down by a similar figure.The strong man's hair was disheveled and scattered under a long-brimmed waxed canvas hat.
For a few minutes, he stood at the corner of the Rue Saint-Jacques, saw the short young man being pushed down, threw away the folder in his hand, and bumped hard at the policeman; On him, he raised his fist and hit his head desperately.All the policemen came here.This ferocious young man is really strong, and there are less than four people who can't hold him back.Two of them grabbed him by the collar and shook him vigorously, the remaining two grabbed his arms, and one slammed his knee on his waist.They were cursing him, calling him a robber, an executioner, a bandit.He was topless, his clothes were ripped, and he was constantly defending himself and his innocence.But he couldn't keep silent while watching a child being beaten.
"My name is Dussardier, I live in the Rue Clery, and I sell lace and fashion for the Valensart companies! Where's my folder? Where's my folder!" he muttered repeatedly. , "Doussardier...Clery Street. Where's my folder?"
When he had calmed down, he looked very proud, and he was taken to the police station in the Rue Descartes.The crowd frantically surrounded him; Frederick and the young man with the moustache followed, growing admiration for the salesman and increasing anger at the brutality of the government.
There are fewer and fewer people walking.
The policemen kept turning their heads and looked at the crowd ferociously, so the meddling people also restrained themselves, and there was nothing for those who joined in the fun, and the crowd slowly dispersed.Some passers-by, seeing Dussardier in prison, commented on the matter in rude terms.An old lady standing at the door of her house even clamored that he had stolen a piece of bread.Being humiliated in this way made the two young men mad.Finally came to the gate of the sentinel team. At this time, there were only a dozen or so people accompanying them.When they found soldiers guarding them, they fled separately.
Frederick and his companions ventured to ask for the release of the man who had just been captured.The sentinel threatened the two of them that if they went on like this, they would also be arrested and jailed.So, they asked for instructions to see the director, and at the same time told their names and identities, saying that they were law students, and that the person who was arrested was their classmate.
They were summoned, and they came to an empty room, and the four benches along the walls were all the furnishings of the room.The little window at the far end of the room was opened, and the face of Dussardier was seen.The disheveled hair, the very frank small eyes, and the round nose made one vaguely think of the appearance of a loyal dog.
"Do you still know us?" Yu Suonei asked.
That mustache is called Yu Suonei.
Dussardier stammered:
"only……"
"Stop acting," said Frederick. "Who doesn't know that you and we are law students."
No matter how much they winked, Dussardier still couldn't understand their purpose. He thought for a while, and suddenly said:
"Who found my folder?"
Frederick looked up sadly.Yu Suonei replied:
"By the way! Folder, is that the clip you hold your notebook in? I know, I saw it, don't worry!"
The few of them seem to be performing a pantomime, and the more they pretend, the more they look like.Dussardier finally understood that they were here to save him.But he was worried that they would be involved, so he kept silent.When he found out that they regarded him as a college student, he felt very embarrassed, how could he stand with these young people with fair and tender skin.
"Shall I have a message for you?" asked Frederick.
"Thank you, no need, no one cares about me!"
"where is your family?"
He hung his head and fell silent.It turned out that this poor man was an illegitimate child.Frederick and Yusone were surprised to see that he was silent.
"Will you smoke?" Frederick asked again.
He dug a little longer in his pocket and came up with a fragment of a pipe--a finely carved steatite pipe with an ebony pipe, a silver cap, and an amber mouthpiece.
This is a successful work he carved, which took three years.He held the pipe wrapped in sheepskin with great care, and smoked little by little. He never put the pipe on the marble; at night he hung it by the bedside.Now, he held the pipe tremblingly in a hand that was bleeding from all five fingers.With downcast eyes and open mouth, he gazed melancholy at the fragments of his treasure.
"Can we give him some cigars?" Yu Suonei whispered, putting his hands together as if to pick out his pockets.
Before he could finish his sentence, Frederick had put a full cigarette case on the sill of the small window.
"Please take it! Goodbye, don't lose heart!"
Dussardier seized their outstretched hands, held them madly, and cried bitterly:
"Is this true? . . . for me! . . . These are mine now! . . . "
The two men did not want to accept his acknowledgment, and left in a hurry to have lunch together at a coffee shop called Tabré in front of the Luxembourg Gardens.
While cutting the steak, Yu Suonei told his partner that he himself worked part-time for several fashion newspapers and also made advertisements for craft agencies.
"For Jacques Arnoux?" asked Frederick eagerly.
"Do you know him?"
"I don't know!... I just... have seen him in the past and met him."
He chatted casually with Yussonnet, asking him if he had the opportunity to see Madame Arnoux.
"I see her often." Yu Suonei replied.
Frederick didn't have the guts to continue asking; in just a few minutes, Yusone became an important spiritual pillar for him.He paid for the meal, but Yu Suonei didn't show any intention of paying for it.
They had a tacit understanding with each other, so they each left their addresses.Ussonet cordially invited him to come with him to the Rue Fleurid.
When they walked to the middle of the garden, Yu Suonei took a long breath, put on an ugly face, and stretched his neck to crow like a rooster.Then there was a rattling sound from all around.
"This is a code word for communication." Yu Suonei told him.
When they came to the Bobino theater, they turned into a house in a lane, and stopped at the door.In the garret window, among nasturtiums and pea flowers, stood a young woman, without a kerchief, in only her underwear, with her arms leaning against the edge of the gutter.
"Honey, hello, my little baby!" Yu Suonei greeted her while blowing kisses to her.
He kicked off the fence and disappeared in a blink of an eye.
Frederick waited for him for a week.He didn't think about going to his house to look for him, because he didn't want people to mistakenly think that he had the slightest intention of asking him to invite him back for lunch.So, Frederick's footprints spread all over the Latin Quarter, and one night, he finally met him and brought him back to his own house on Napoleon Pier.
They talked openly for a long time.Yu Suonei is very ambitious, trying to gain both fame and fortune in drama.As a result, he co-created several small musicals, but none of them came true. He still had a lot of plans that could not be realized, and he also rewrote songs.Also sang a few songs.He happened to see two books by Hugo and Lamartine on the bookcase, and began to attack the Romantics.He said that these two writers had no conscience, no sense of justice, and called them the scum of the French!Yusonet also bragged about how deeply he had studied French, and refuted the most exquisite sentences in their works, with a scholastic style; only those who like to joke, This is the scholastic style when criticizing literary works.
Frederick was not happy in the bottom of his heart, because it was precisely his favorite that was picked by Yusone.He wished to cut off contact with him immediately.But thinking about it again, why not give it a try, and immediately say that sentence that is deeply buried in my heart?So he asked Yusone if he could take him to Arnoux.
For Yu Suonei, this matter was too simple, so the two made an appointment the next day.
But on the second day, Yu Suonei did not come; after that, he broke his promise three times in a row.On a Saturday afternoon, around four o'clock, Yu Suone came.On their way to see Arnoux, he first went to the French Theater to buy a box ticket, and asked the driver to drive the car to a sewing shop, then went to a sewing shop specializing in women's clothing; After leaving many notes in so many people's homes, I finally reached the Avenue Montmartre.Frederick walked across the hall and up the stairs.When he saw Arnoux, he was busy on the desk. He found Frederick in the mirror, but he still did not put down the pen in his hand, but freed his other hand to shake Frederick over his right shoulder. hands.
There were five or six people standing there, crowding the cramped room to the brim; there was only one window, which opened on to the yard; Between the two curtains of the same texture, it almost filled the gap on the ground beside the bed.A bronze statue of Venus stood on a mantelpiece covered with waste paper; on either side of the bronze statue stood side by side two candlesticks filled with red candles.A man in a hat sits reading a newspaper on a sofa next to a file rack on the right; the walls are filled with woodblock prints, oil paintings, expensive prints, and sketches of today's famous people, all of which are marked with An inscription full of sincere affection for Jacques Arnounah.
"How are you?" he asked, turning to Frederick.
Before Frederick could answer, he quietly asked Yusone again:
"What do you call this friend?"
Then he said aloud:
"The cigars are in the box on the file rack, please help yourself."
Located in the heart of Paris, the Craft Society is a great place for dates and a hotspot for events.One day, Antenor Brave, famous for his paintings of emperors, Jules Brioux, famous for his sketches of the Algerian wars, and Sombas, famous for his caricatures, the sculptor Urda and more Many people gather here.But with so many famous people, none of them could meet the requirements of this college student.Their speech and behavior are vulgar and dissolute.Lowari, who appeared in a mystical style, made up an extremely obscene and absurd story; the famous founder of oriental landscape painting, Dietermey, wore a women's velvet shirt inside his waistcoat, and was riding in an open public carriage back.
At first they spoke of Apollonius.She was an old model, and Brio said he had seen her in a Dormont.Yu Suonei also named many of her lovers to show that this woman has changed.
Arnoux said: "Look how familiar you are with the girls of Paris!"
"My lord, even the most flamboyant man is insignificant in front of you." Yu Suonei saluted like a regular army soldier presenting a water bottle to Napoleon.
Then people began to discuss the few oil paintings with Apolloni's head as a model.Those colleagues who did not come also became the object of their refutation.It's amazing how expensive those painters' paintings are.People blame their wallets for being too thin.While they were arguing, a man who seemed a little out of order walked in. He was not tall, his clothes were only buttoned up, and his eyes were bright.Just listen to him say:
"Look at you bourgeois! What is there to be proud of! The outstanding figures of the past, such as Wanliang gold, don't take it seriously!..."
"And Pellerin," added Sombas.
He ignored other people's eyes, and still made his passionate speech.So Arnoud had to repeat two sentences to him:
"Thursday, my wife wants to talk to you, don't forget!"
His words revived Frederick's hopes for Madame Arnoux.He thought, if he wanted to go to her room, he might have to go through the small room next to the sofa?At this moment, Arnoux opened the door of the cabin to get a handkerchief, and Frederick glanced inside, where he saw a dressing table.On the other side of the fireplace, I heard someone talking to himself. It turned out that someone was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper.He was over five feet nine inches tall, with slightly slack eyelids, gray hair, and a serious look. He was Leranpa.
"Hello, what's the news?" Arnoux asked him.
"The government has done another unpopular thing."
He was talking about the dismissal of an elementary school teacher.Pellerin put Michelangelo and Shakespeare together again and compared them carefully.By this time Dieter had left.When Arnoux found out, he immediately chased him out and gave him two checks.Yu Suonei saw everything, thought to himself that the time had come, and said:
"Dear boss, can I withdraw some money first?"
Arnoux seemed not to have heard him, and sat down again to reprimand an old man with blue spectacles and a dirty face.
"Hey! You're handsome, old Isaac! Look at your three pictures, they're worthless, what a waste of effort! People are talking about me! Now everyone knows, what do you want me to do? I really want to put Take them all to California! . . . Shut up! Get out of here!"
Poor Isaac was good at stamping oil paintings with the names of famous people of antiquity.Arnoux refused to give him money and forced him away.Then he showed another face and greeted a bearded gentleman respectfully. He was wearing a white tie and a medal on his chest, looking very serious.
Arnoux leaned his arm on the catch of the window, talked to him affectionately for a while, and then he cried out:
"It will not be difficult for me to find brokers, Monsieur Count!"
The man called the count agreed, and Arnoux paid him twenty-five louis.And when the man had just left the room, Arnoux said:
"It's really annoying, these gentlemen!"
"What a bunch of bastards!" muttered Lerampa.
Time flies, and Arnou is getting more and more busy, writing bills, reading letters, and checking bills; as soon as he hears the hammer sound in the store, he has to go outside to supervise the packing; he will continue to work after returning.The dip pen in his hand is constantly writing, and he has to answer fluently.He was going to dinner at the lawyer's house in the evening, and he was going to leave for Belgium tomorrow.
Others chatted about current events, like the Cherubini portrait, the museum's curved auditorium, the upcoming exhibition.Pellerin was lashing out at the Academy of Fine Arts.They alternate between attacks and sarcasm.The ceiling of this house is very low, and coupled with the crowding, it is almost impossible to turn your body away.The light of the red candles pierced through the clouds of cigar smoke like sunlight piercing through the layers of clouds.
At this moment, the door next to the couch opened suddenly, and a tall, thin woman came out. She moved so fast that the ornaments on her wrists jingled when they touched the black taffeta robe.
She was the woman Frederick had seen in the summer at the Palace Theatre.At this time, several people were calling her name and shaking hands with her respectively.In the end Yusonet managed to get fifty francs.At this time the wall clock struck seven, and everyone left.
Arnoux called to Pellerin, and he and Mademoiselle Wanas went into the room.
Frederick did not hear their conversation.They were talking in low voices.Suddenly the woman said loudly:
"During the half a year of getting things done, I have been waiting!"
Then everyone was silent, and after a while Miss Wanas came out.Arnoux must have promised her something again.
"Good! Good! Let's talk about it later!"
"Good-bye, dear one!" she said.
Arnoux immediately went back to the hut, rubbed some ointment on his beard, tightened the soles of his shoes and the suspenders of his trousers, washed his hands and said:
"Draw me two door screens, two hundred and fifty francs each, in the Boucher style, will you?"
"That's it!" said the painter, blushing.
"Well, don't forget about my wife!"
When Frederick walked with Pellerin into the suburb of Poissonniere, he begged Pellerin to come and see him often, and Pellerin graciously agreed.
Pellerin wanted to figure out what "beauty" really meant, and he read all the monographs on aesthetics.He feels that as long as he understands what is the real "beauty", he can draw good works.He piled up all the painting supplies he could think of, including sketches, plaster figures, models, and prints; Go up for inspiration.If he finds an inspiration, he will tremble all over with excitement, but it won't take long before he will give up the work he has already thought about and imagine another more perfect work.In this way, the idea of greed for fame and fortune stimulates him all the time, and also makes him waste the good time endlessly. Whether it is system, comment, artistic formula or the significance of artistic innovation and other boring things, he will be convinced Undoubtedly, in the end, being past fifty, I can only do sketches and things like that, and I can't do anything else well.He is very optimistic and never upset, but he is full of resentment all day long, acting like a comedian who is half acting and half showing his true feelings.
Walking into his room, what grabs your attention are two large oil paintings that have just been painted.The white and clean screen is full of traces of brown, red, and blue.The handwriting outlined by chalk is like a fishnet that has been darned many times, dazzling.Pellerin put his thumb in those blank spaces, explaining the meaning of the two drawings.One stands out for the madness, the other for the burning of Rome.Frederick clapped his hands and applauded after listening.
Frederick liked the sketches of nude women with loose hair, and landscapes in which a storm had blown the trees out of shape and into a high bump; , or works, although he has never seen the original face of the works.Pellerin no longer values the work of his youth; now, he seeks the glamor of art.Let him talk about He's faith, which can be said to be eloquent.The persuasiveness of his words is enhanced by the things around him. Before you is a head on a kneeling board, a cassock, and several Turkish-style sledgehammers.So Frederick put on the cassock.
Occasionally Frederick came early and found Pellerin lying on a battered cot behind a curtain.This is because Pellerin read the script too seriously, so he often went to bed late.His family consisted only of an old, shabby servant, who ate his suppers in a cheap restaurant, and lived a lonely life without a lover.He absorbed the art of various sects, and it was extremely messy, and it seemed that his mistakes were ridiculous.He hated those mediocre people and petty bourgeois very much, and attacked them violently. What he said could be called a beautiful lyric poem, but he admired celebrities very much, and almost promoted himself to the same level as famous painters. the height of.
However, he never mentioned Madame Arnoux.As for her husband, Arnou, Pellerin sometimes said he was very good, and sometimes called him a charlatan.It seemed that there must be something in it, and Frederick was waiting for him to tell it.
Once, Frederick looked through a picture album belonging to Pellerin and saw a portrait of a gypsy woman. The woman in this portrait somewhat resembled Miss Wanas.He became interested in her and wanted to find out where she came from.
According to Pellerin, she used to be a primary school teacher in the provinces, and now she works part-time as a tabloid editor while teaching classes.
In Frederick's opinion, from her behavior with Arnoux, others must take her for Arnoux's mistress.
"Hey! Come on! He has a lot of mistresses!"
On hearing this, Frederick immediately turned away his face, which was blushing with obscene thoughts, and said firmly:
"Perhaps Madame Arnoux made him do it?"
"How is it possible! She is a decent person!"
Frederick was deeply ashamed of his words, and then went to the pictorial office more often.
The large letters "Arnoux" on the marble horizontal board on the gate of the Craftsmanship, in his opinion, are unique in style and profound in meaning, as if they were written in the Bible.The wide streets have some slopes, and it is very convenient to walk on; the door can be said to open by itself, and the handrail feels slippery to the touch, and it is as soft and flexible as a hand in the hand.
Gradually, he also began to arrive on time just like Lerampa.
It was like this every day, as soon as Lerampa sat on the sofa by the fireplace, he immediately grabbed the "National" and read it endlessly, sighing for a while, and twisting his body for a while to express his feelings.He crumpled his handkerchief into a strip, sandwiched it between the two front buttons of his green coat, and often tore it off to wipe the sweat from his head.He was wearing cut-price trousers, low-waisted shoes, and a long tie around his neck.The brim of the hat is bent upwards, even if he is standing in the middle of a crowd, just looking from a distance is enough to tell where he is.
Every morning at eight o'clock, he set off from Montmartre on time to drink white wine on the Avenue Notre-Dame de Victory.After lunch, he went to play billiards, playing endless rounds until three o'clock in the afternoon.Next was a trip to Panorama Lane for anisette and a few glasses of absinthe.After drinking, he would not go home to accompany his wife, but often went to a small coffee shop in Jiarong Plaza to have dinner alone.He asked the boss to get him some authentic family dishes.After eating and drinking enough, we went to another billiard room and played until midnight. At one o'clock in the morning, the gas lights were all extinguished. It was time to close the shop. The boss was exhausted and kept begging him to please him. Leave, he will go away.
Leranba never went to this kind of place to drink, because he used to talk about state affairs in these places, and he was used to it.Now that I am older, I don't have any interests and hobbies anymore, and I talk a lot less and worry all day long.It gives people a solemn face, as if they are planning major events in the world in their minds, but in the end nothing is achieved.He was setting up a pretend office, but even his friends had no idea what he was doing.
It seemed that Arnoux valued him very much.One day he said to Frederick:
"He's really good at everything! It's not easy!"
Once, Leramba put a stack of contracts related to the Breton clay kiln on Arnoux's desk. Arnoux believed in Leramba and felt that he had experience, so he handed over the job to him without hesitation.
Frederick therefore flattered Lerampa even more, and often invited him to drink anisette.Although Frederick always felt that he was stupid in his heart, he often accompanied him, for an hour or so at a time: he did this only because he had the confidence of Jacques Arnoux.
Many of today's painting talents have received Arnoux's support when they first debuted; then, this shrewd art dealer, while retaining his artistry, is trying to make money.He advocated the reform of art, and his moral standard was very low.As long as the luxury goods industry that exists in Paris is under his influence, what he does seems to be good for small things, but it ruins big things.Because in order to gain the support of the public opinion circles, he misled the talented painters, corrupted the capable ones, dragged the fledgling ones away, and the mediocre and incompetent became the objects of his praise.He firmly controlled them in the palm of his hand by means of communication and pictorials.Some poorly crafted painters had ulterior motives, trying to put their paintings on Arnoux's counter, and those weavers flocked to his shop to buy samples.Frederick thought of him as a millionaire, artist and peopleman.But there are many things that frighten Frederick, that is, Arnoud's extreme cunning in the mall.
From Germany or Italy, he bought an oil painting worth 1,500 francs in Paris, and then sold it for 3,500 francs, but the bill issued said 4,000 francs.He also said it was a favor.His usual way of deceiving painters was to say that he planned to decorate the paintings into engravings for printing and distribution, so he lowered the price as a tip.In the end, he sold the paintings with reduced prices, and there was no trace of the prints.When the painters who had been deceived by him asked about this, he patted his belly to answer them.Fortunately, when he interacts with people, he smokes cigars casually, and any strange face is "you" in his mouth. He always treats a work and a person with high enthusiasm; People and horses do things, expand letter delivery, and make a lot of advertisements.He considers himself simple and sincere, but when he speaks, he assumes a childish and childish appearance, revealing his shameless and ugly face.
One day, a colleague invited guests to celebrate his pictorial. Arnoux wanted to make him look ugly, so he asked Frederick to fill in many resignation posts for him in the quarter of an hour before the banquet started.
"You know, it's harmless?"
Frederick did not have the guts to deny the matter.
The next day, he and Yusonet walked into Arnoux's office together. At this moment, Frederick saw the hem of a skirt flashing through the door facing the stairs.
"Sorry! If I knew it was inconvenient for you -" Yu Suonei said.
"Oh! What are you talking about? She is my wife," said Arnoux. "She is passing by, and she came to see me."
"Oh?" said Frederick in surprise.
"It's really her! She's gone home from here."
At this time, everything around me seems to lose its appeal.A kind of indistinct thing that can be felt here every day has disappeared in a blink of an eye. To be more precise, this kind of thing has never existed at all.He was surprised and felt cheated.
Arnoux flipped through the drawers with a smile on his face.Frederick wondered to himself, was Arnoux laughing at himself?Just then a clerk came in and put a stack of greasy new newspapers on the table.
"Ha! It's an advertisement!" Arnou yelled, "I don't seem to have to eat tonight!"
Lerampa grabbed his hat and was about to leave.
"Why, are you going to leave now?"
"It's already seven o'clock!" said Lerampa.
Frederick followed him.
走到蒙马尔特街的转弯处，弗雷德利克回头看了看二层的那几扇窗户。回想起他以怎样的热情，注视了这几扇窗户那么长时间，暗暗地嘲笑自己，同时又觉得自己好可怜。她到底住在哪儿呢？现在又用什么方法才能见到她呢？他从未感觉到自己有过这么强烈的愿望，周围一片寂静，让他惘然。
“您来点吗？”列冉巴问。
"what?"
“茴香酒？”
弗雷德利克耐不住他的拉扯，随他一块来到博德莱酒店。就在列冉巴把胳膊支在桌子上仔细看那酒瓶时，还不断地朝四处瞧。忽然，他看到人行道上有佩勒林的身影，连忙用力去碥玻璃窗。还没等佩勒林坐稳，列冉巴便发问道：怎么这么久没去工艺社呀？
“我说死也不再去了！他是今大笨虫，资产者，坏种，无耻之徒！”
佩勒林的这顿痛斥可解了弗雷德利克的心头之恨，他也正对阿尔努恨之入骨。可是他又有些不太满意，因为他骂的话牵扯到了阿尔努太太。
“你们之间到底发生了什么事？”列冉巴问道。
佩勒林气得直跺脚，长长地换了口气，仍未回答。
佩勒林是以做一种不能见光的生意为生的，例如模仿名人的双色铅笔画以及临摹画，用以哄骗那些不懂行的业余爱好者。这种工作确实很丢人，于是他只能保持沉默。但是，阿尔努那下流无耻的作法又叫佩勒林恨之入骨，无奈只能骂一痛解解气。
同阿尔努预定好的，弗雷德利克可以证明这件事，佩勒林送来两张画。画好了的画，阿尔努却对它们挑三拣四！无论是构思，上色还是笔道，尤其是笔道，完全给否决了，毫无价值可言。但是，佩勒林由于要偿还一张到期的债务，无可奈何之际，被迫将这两张画卖给了犹太人伊萨克。半个月以后，阿尔努又亲手将这两张画转卖给一位西班牙人，得到两千法郎。
“少一个子都不行！太卑鄙了！这种卑鄙的事情他已习以为常了，我们走着瞧，总归有那么一天，将把他拉上审判席！”
“您说得也太夸张了吧！”弗雷德利克胆怯地说。
“你说什么？竟敢说我夸张！”佩勒林大声吼道，拳头使劲地砸在桌子上。
他的这种粗暴态度反而令弗雷德利克的胆子大了起来。的确，阿尔努完全没必要做得这么绝；假若他认为这两张画……
“您认为不好！就直说！对了，您看过那两张画了吗？您懂行吗？告诉您，后辈，我，我可懒得在乎那帮人，全都是些业余爱好者！”
“嘿！这关我什么事呀？”弗雷德利克说。
“那您又为何替他讲话呢？”佩勒林面无表情地说。
弗雷德利克一顿一顿地回答说：
“只因为……我和他是朋友。”
“那就有劳您代我问候他吧！再见！”
刚说完，佩勒林就火冒三丈地离开了，更不用说支付酒钱了。
弗雷德利克为阿尔努讲话是真诚的。聪明、友善的阿尔努遭到了朋友的斥责和背叛，现在正单独一人在忙碌着，弗雷德利克从那些严厉的斥责和痛骂声中，对阿尔努产生了怜悯之情。他甚至到了难以抑制自己，迫切地想立刻见到他的程度。过了十分钟，他来到了商店。
阿尔努正在跟他的伙计们构思一幅画展所需的大张海报。
“怪事！是谁领你来的！”
面对这么容易的问话，弗雷德利克却无言以对，只好问有谁拣到了他的手册，是一个蓝皮的小册子。
“那是您用来收集情书的小册子吗？”
弗雷德利克脸羞得通红，矢口否认了这样的猜测。
“那一定是您用来写诗的了？”阿尔努又发问道。
阿尔努在挪动着摆放的样品，还在不停地思考着用什么样的格调、颜色和四框；看到他那种深思的表情，尤其是在广告板来回移动的那双又肥又软、长着宽而平的指甲的双手让弗雷德利克越看越有气。阿尔努终于站起身来，嘴里喊着“可以了”，手就不自觉地摸着弗雷德利克的下巴。他的这种过分的举动令弗雷德利克很厌恶，他后退了一步，迈出了办公室的门坎，心里想，这就是今生的最后一次了。至于阿尔努太太，也由于阿尔努的卑微而被辱没了。
这个星期，他收到了戴洛立叶的一封来信，信上说他于下周四来巴黎。因此，他便一门心思来等待他那最诚挚的友谊。戴洛立叶这种男人，比得上世界上所有的女人。列冉巴，佩勒林，余索内和其他的人，全都没用了！他又添了一张小铁床，一个沙发椅，把自己的被褥分出一套来，准备叫好友舒舒服服地住在这儿。周四早晨，在他正要打扮一下去接好友时，门铃忽然响了起来，进来的是阿尔努。
“就说一句！昨天有人从日内瓦带来一条鲜美的鳟鱼；今晚七点……舒瓦泽大街二十四号，我们等着您。您可一定要来哟！”
弗雷德利克只好又坐下来，他的两条腿在不停地抖动。他喃喃地说：“机会总算来了！机会总算来了！”他立即给裁缝、帽店老板和鞋匠写了三个便条，雇了三个人分头送去。突然听到有钥匙开锁的声音，门被打开了，看门人扛着一个大箱子站在那儿。
弗雷德利克一眼就认出了戴洛立叶，不禁全身颤抖起来，简直像一个荡妇见到了她的男人一样。
“到底有什么事缠住了你？”戴洛立叶说，“你早就应该接到我的信了吧？”
弗雷德利克便如实地回答了他。
他张开双臂，拥抱了戴洛立叶。
接下来，戴洛立叶讲述了他的不快。他父亲开始不愿拿出监护人代管的那部分财产，想等十年以后失去效用时好独吞。但是，戴洛立叶不肯，他对诉讼法了如指掌，最后将母亲的所有遗产都争了回来，一共是七千法郎，现在这些钱正装在他口袋里的一个旧钱包里。
“这笔钱留着备用。明天一早我就去把它存起来，我本人也得找个安身之处。至于今天，先休息，一切都听从你的指挥，老朋友！”
“好了！我就不烦你了！今晚你如果有什么急事……”弗雷德利克说。
“行了！我怎么会那么混呢……。”
这句话他随口说出，好像是有所指，也正好说到了弗雷德利克的病根。
看门人把猪排、冻肉、一只龙虾、一盘水果、两瓶波尔多酒摆在火炉旁边的桌子上。这么盛情的招待，真是让戴洛立叶感恩不尽。
“说心里话，你就快把我当成皇帝一样来招待了！”
他们回忆着过去，憧憬着未来。两个人不停地把手伸到桌子的另一边去握住对方的手，相互间真挚地注视着。过了一会儿，有人送来一顶新帽子，戴洛立叶大叫道，真是一顶桂冠！
又过了一会儿，裁缝送来了烫好的礼服。
“你似乎在准备结婚了！”戴洛立叶说。
一小时之后，来了第三个人，他从一个黑口袋里拿出一双很好看的靴子。在弗雷德利克试鞋的刹那间，那位鞋匠以嘲讽的眼光盯着戴洛立叶的鞋子。
“先生，您不要一双吗？”
“谢谢！我不需要！”戴洛立叶将他脚上那双绑着带子的烂鞋子藏到了椅子下面。
他的这副寒碜样令弗雷德利克很难堪。他始终没有告诉他自己要出去。突然，他装作记起了一件事而惊叫一声：
“唉！糟了！我怎么把它忘了！”
"What happened?"
“今晚有个宴会，我将在外面吃饭！”
“是去唐布罗士家吗？你怎么从未在信中说起过他呢？”
“不是去唐布罗士家，是阿尔努家。”
“你应该早些告诉我，我便可以晚一天来这儿！”戴洛立叶说。
“为什么要那么做！”弗雷德利克装出很不高兴的样子说：“我也是今天早晨才被邀请的，也就是刚刚！”
弗雷德利克打开绑行李的绳子，将戴洛立叶的衣物全都装进了衣柜里，还腾出自己的床给他睡，自己到木板棚里去睡，目的就是来给朋友以补偿，尽量避免他继续想这件事。然后，从四点钟开始他就开始着装打扮了。
“时间还多呢！”戴洛立叶说。
当他穿戴整齐后，就离开了家。
“这就是有钱人的作为呀！”戴洛立叶心想。
他来到圣雅克街一间很熟悉的小店吃晚饭。
弗雷德利克在楼梯上停下来很多次，他的心在剧烈地跳动着。他的手套太瘦，已经有一只被他撑开了。就在他把裂缝藏到衬衣袖子底下时，阿尔努出现在他身后，挽起他的手臂，一块走了进去。
前厅是按中国的装点方式装饰的，天棚上吊了一盏带有彩色图案的灯笼，房间的四个角摆放着盆竹。走过客厅时，弗雷德利克被一张虎皮绊了一下。还未点燃蜡烛，只有里面房间亮着两盏灯。
这时玛尔特小姐出来了，她说妈妈在穿衣服。阿尔努抱起女儿亲吻着。接下来，他准备去地下室里挑几瓶酒来，就叫弗雷德利克陪孩子玩。
蒙特罗那次旅游之后，她已经长大了很多。她那褐色的鬈发披散到露出的胳膊上。她身上的裙子蓬起的比舞女的裙子还要厉害，那粉红色的小腿都露了出来。从她那漂亮的身体上发出一种很诱人的香气。她妩媚动人，当弗雷德利克恭恭敬敬地赞美她时，那双眼睛很沉着地打量了他一番，便偷偷地顺着家具的空隙走掉了，猫似的转眼就不见了。
现在他的情绪稳定了，没有了刚才的惶恐和不安。罩着花边纸的灯，发出柔和的白光，射在那面挂着浅紫色绸子的墙上，把墙上的颜色也照得很平和。从那块大扇形的挡板上，能够看见壁炉中的煤；挂钟旁边放着一个带银锁的小盒子。到处都摆放着一些让人感到很舒适的物品；大沙发上躺着一个娃娃，每个靠背上都铺了一块毛巾，桌子上放着一件毛衣，外边垂落着两根象牙制成的毛线针，针尖向下。屋里的一切，都不难看出这是一个温馨、和睦、善良的家庭。
在阿尔努回来的同时，阿尔努太太也从另一扇门出来了。一片阴影挡住了她，弗雷德利克先看出了她的头。她穿一条黑绒布裙子，用一块阿尔及利亚的红色丝绸把头发梳成一个发卷，散落到左肩膀上。
弗雷德利克被阿尔努介绍给妻子。
“哦！这位先生我认识。”她回答。
客人们差不多是一块来的，他们是狄特梅，洛瓦里亚，布里欧，作曲家罗森瓦尔，泰奥菲勒·洛里诗人，余索内的两个同行，一个造纸商，还有享有盛名的皮埃尔——保尔·曼休斯，他是当今古典派画家惟一的代表，已经快快乐乐地生活了八十年，腆着圆溜溜的大肚子。
是阿尔努太太搀扶着这位老画家到客厅去的。酒桌上属于佩勒林的席位还空在那儿。尽管阿尔努大肆地压榨他，可仍然很欣赏他。阿尔努更加害怕的是他的伶牙俐齿。最后，阿尔努为了感化他，将他的照片印在《工艺画报》上，还题了几句虚伪的赞美词句。接近八点钟的时候，讲义气的佩勒林气喘吁吁地赶到了。弗雷德利克暗想，原来他们早就和好如初了。
对主人和客人，对饭菜，弗雷德利克都感到很满意。餐厅布置得像中世纪的客厅，墙上挂了一张干透了的动物毛皮；有一个荷兰式的碗柜摆在放土耳其长烟袋的架子前边，餐桌上摆了一圈的波希米兰酒杯，五颜六色的，中间还放着鲜花和水果，像花园中的彩灯。
芥末有十几种，随你挑选。菜肴，有意大利名菜香油拌菜，咖喱，鲜姜，科西嘉的乌鸫，罗马风味的面条；喝的都是名贵的酒，有意大利产的利普——弗腊奥利葡萄酒，匈牙利的甜酒。果真如此，阿尔努十分好客。为了搞到这些吃的，他跟所有赶车的车夫拉好关系，而且还认识了豪门贵族家中的厨师，从厨师那里学到了这些菜的配料方法。
而最令弗雷德利克开心的是听他们在酒桌上的闲聊。狄特梅讲到的东方，对喜欢游玩的他很感兴趣；罗森瓦尔讲起歌剧院的事情，使他了解到了舞台生活的内幕；余索内讲起自己没有饭吃的那段日子里以荷兰奶酪充饥，就这么熬过了整个冬天，他讲得绘声绘色，妙趣横生，流浪汉的艰苦生活，让他啼笑皆非。然后，就听洛瓦里布和布里欧辩论，这让他了解了很多著作，增长了不少知识。就在他听得无法自拔时，听佩勒林大叫起来：
“你们能不能安静一会儿，甭拿这种讨厌的理论来烦我！你们讲的都是些什么东西？公说公有理，婆说婆有理，旁观者听起来都没道理。依我看，只有米开朗琪罗的作品才是真实的，有说服力的，称雄一世的！当代的画家，注重的只是表面现象，这就是当代作品的粗劣之处；假如如此下去，谁也料想不到将来的艺术会变成怎样可笑的东西！如今的诗歌，从影响的大小来讲，比不上宗教有说服力，从功德的角度来讲，也比不上政治。你们无论如何也理解不了艺术的真正魅力，不错，艺术魅力！艺术的魅力不能光靠在绘画上耍什么手段，是要用一种精巧的作品来打动人们，而不是自我欣赏。就拿巴索利埃的油画为例！光彩，诱人，秀气却不沉寂！你完全可以把它装进衣袋里随你出游！一名公证人以两万法郎的价格购买了它，可是就它的本身来讲，也就能值三个铜板；就是因为它的内涵才有价值！如果不具备内涵，也就不会吸引人了！才是真正的山！金字塔也将是世界上独一无二的建筑！幽静比不上豪壮，人行道不如沙漠，一个理发师不如一个粗鲁之人。”
弗雷德利克一边听，一边不住地看着阿尔努太太，他听进的这些话，似乎投入了炼钢炉，遇到他的激情，便炼就出了爱情。
他同她坐成一排，中间插了三个位置。她总是伸出上半身来，扭头跟她的小女儿讲话。她的每个微笑，都能在两腮挤出一个酒窝，给人一种华贵而和善的感觉。
到了饭店准备喝酒时，她就离开了酒桌。酒宴中的谈话，都很自如。阿尔努简直是独领风骚，这群人的厚颜无耻，真的叫弗雷德利克大开眼界。但是，他们对女人的热情倒可以跟他一比高低，这也算是增强了他的自信。
到了客厅里，为了给人以言行文雅的印象，他从桌上抓起一本画册看了起来，这画册上有当今的大艺术家们的图画、题词或签名。这些名望很高的名字中，对弗雷德利克而言，有很多是不熟识的；他们的一些乌七八糟的想法都能从字里行间显露出来。那些题词多多少少都怀有对阿尔努太太的崇敬。如果当真叫弗雷德利克也在册子上题个字，他却没这个勇气。
她到里屋去找刚刚在壁炉上见到过的那个带银锁的小盒子。这是阿尔努送给妻子的一个礼物，是文艺复兴时期的艺术品。阿尔努的这些朋友，都对他拍手称道，他的太太也非常感激。他被这种气氛深深地打动了，当着众人的面，吻了太太一下。
然后，大家两个一伙，三个一堆地分头去闲聊了。曼休斯老人和阿尔努太太坐在火炉旁的安乐椅上。她歪着脑袋靠在他的肩头，两个头挨在一起。弗雷德利克暗想，如果自己也德高望重，有一头白发，无论如何，只要有什么能够在他和她之间牵条线，他甘愿变成聋子，变成废人，变得奇丑无比。他悲叹不已，为什么自己不早出世几年呢？
她走到他坐的那个角落来，询问他认识几个在座的客人，对画画是否感兴趣，在巴黎上学多长时间了，她所说的每个字，对弗雷德利克来讲都是陌生的，是她所特有的东西。她鬈发的尾部触及到裸露出的臂膀。弗雷德利克始终盯着她，一动也不动，将他的心思全都融入她那白嫩嫩的肌肤里去了。可是，他却没有胆量抬起头来正视她的目光。
罗森瓦尔过来打断了他们，他来请她唱歌。他在试琴时，她等在那儿。随后，她微微地张开嘴，周围马上传出一阵悦耳、悠扬的旋律。
她唱的是意大利语，弗雷德利克什么也没听懂。
歌曲一开始的旋律高扬、节奏铿锵，慢慢地又突出了高亢的旋律，后面又突然柔和下来。一曲高亢而悠扬的旋律，逐渐地变成了缠绵和谐的乐曲。
她的双手自然下垂，目光中一片茫然，就这样站在琴旁。只是偶尔瞧一眼乐谱，眨一下眼睛，头略微朝前倾斜着。那女低音的嗓音，随着低沉的乐曲，唱出了凄凉的音调，叫人一阵阵发冷。再看她那秀气的脸庞，歪着脑袋，胸部挺起，张开双臂时，音符便从她那软软的脖子中传出来，再由喉咙吐出来，似乎有人在空中亲吻她。她长长地拨离了三个音符后就降了下来，最后又挑了一个更高的音符，便在一片沉寂中，随着缓缓的琴声结束了。
罗森瓦尔仍旧没有从琴旁走开。他似乎意犹未尽，仍在弹着琴。客人们逐渐地离去了。十一点钟的时候，剩下的几位客人也要离去了，阿尔努说要送送佩勒林，便一同走了出去。有的人吃完晚饭后没能去户外散散步，就告诉别人自己生病了，阿尔努就是这种人。
阿尔努太太早已恭候在前厅，她正在同狄特梅和余索内握手道别，也同弗雷德利克握过手了。他立即觉得似乎有什么渗入到肌体中去了。
他同他们一一道别，他想一个人呆着。他的爱情之火已燃烧起来了。她怎么会把手伸向自己呢？这算是她的放荡，还是在激励自己呢？“行了吧，我真的发疯了！”如今他已经可以随随便便地跟她往来了，可以坐在她的身旁同他聊天，还管那么多干什么呢！
大街上行人稀少，时而走过一辆载重的大车，压得街面咯嘣嘣直响。两边的房子一间连着一间，墙面灰突突的，窗户都关得严严的。他鄙视那些躺在这些房子里的人们，来到世间却没有见过她，更没有想到过会有这么个她！他有些忘乎所以了，周围的一切都一下子从他的脑子中消失了。他用脚跟跺着地面，拿手杖拍打着商店的板窗，无忧无虑的、发疯似的一个劲地朝前走着。慢慢地，空气的湿度越来越大，他才发现自己已经到了码头的尽头。
两边排列整齐的街灯，忽明忽暗。红红的道道亮光，映衬到水里。绿色的河水，岸上那高大的倒影，似乎顶起了暗淡的夜空。模模糊糊的巨型建筑物，更加深了黑夜的暗淡。远处房屋的上空，浓浓的云雾飘浮着，伴随着杂乱和清晰的声音，被微风吹动着。
他立在新桥中央，光着脑袋，敞着怀，吸取着这里的新鲜空气。但是，他感觉到从内心深处冒出来一种永不干涸的东西，那是一股激励他的爱情之水，就像眼前涌动的河水。教堂传来了“当”的一声，缓缓地，似乎在叫着他的名字。
这使他发自心底地一阵颤抖，似乎是一种最高层次的抖动。从他的身上体现出一种超人的能力，虽然他不清楚这有什么用。他反复地问自己，是去做一位画家呢，还是做一名诗人。最后，他决心去画画，有了这门手艺就可以经常见到阿尔努太太了。他总算是寻到了自己的行业。今后的目标确定下来了，对前途已有了希望！
他关上门，便听到一阵鼾声，是从卧室旁边的小黑屋里发出来的。这是另外一个人。他已经对他不感兴趣了。
他观察镜子中的自己，认为很帅气，于是在那里看了自己整整有一分钟。
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Notes: