Chapter 15 Chapter Seven The adults are in the city

His Excellency, one of the most sought-after ministers at court, gave fortnightly receptions at his palace in Paris.Your lordship is in his inner chambers, the temple of his temples, the holiest of holiest places in the heart of his throng of worshipers in his outer rooms.Adults want to eat chocolate.He can swallow a lot with ease, and some disaffected people think he is eating France quickly.But the chocolate for breakfast couldn't go down a grown man's throat without the help of four burly men (except the cook). Yes, four people are needed.Four glittering people with luxurious decorations all over their bodies.Their chief cannot live without at least two gold watches in his pocket (which is following his noble and holy example), nor can he bring happy chocolates to his lips.The first attendant will hold the chocolate pot in front of the holy lord; the second attendant will use the special gadget he brought to grind the chocolate into powder and make foam; the third serve the napkin that the lord likes; the fourth One (the one with two gold watches) pours the chocolate sauce.Cutting down a squire will inevitably hurt your lord's dignity, which is praised by the heavens.It would be a disgrace on his family coat of arms to serve him chocolate with just three people.If there were only two people, he would definitely lose his life.

The grown-ups had a light meal out last night, which was accompanied by charming comedy and big cabaret.Adults dine out most evenings with their glamorous companions.His Majesty was courteous and sensitive, and in dealing with the tedious affairs and secrets of state of the day, comedy and grand opera influenced him far more than the needs of all France.This state of affairs is a blessing to France--as is the case with all nations that have received a similar favor from God.So it was with England, for example, in the regrettable days of the reign of the merry Stuart who betrayed England. The lord has one perfectly noble idea of ​​public affairs in general: leave things to be; he has another perfectly noble idea of ​​public affairs in particular: do them all at his command--serve his power and his purse.And with regard to his amusements in general and in particular, grown-up man has a purely noble idea that God created the world to make him happy.The wording of his order is: "The earth and all that is in it is mine, my lord says."

Gradually, however, His Excellency found that vulgar embarrassment had crept into his public and private affairs, and in both cases he was obliged to ally himself with a tax-contractor.It turned out that the adults knew nothing about public finances, so they had to be handed over to someone who knew how to handle them; when it came to private finances, the tax contractors were rich, but after several generations of squandering, the adults gradually showed signs of embarrassment.So his lordship took his sister out of a convent, and married her as a prize to a humble but rich tax-contractor before she could throw off her nun's veil and cheap nun's robes .At this time, the contractor was holding a special cane with a golden apple inlaid in his hand, and was with the guests in the outer room.He was respected by all, except the good race of grown-ups, who--including the contractor's wife--scorned him with the most haughty contempt.

A tax contractor is a luxury.There were thirty fine horses in the stables, twenty-four menservants in the hall, and the wife was served by six servants, who always pretended to plunder and loot everything they could get their hands on, and were not interested in anything else. The moral responsibilities arising from the marriage relationship are taken into account.But he was at least the most remarkable reality among the nobles who attended the lord's mansion that day. For these rooms, though beautiful and luxurious, with the most elegant and elaborate designs and decorations of their time, were in fact in dire straits.Considering the presence of poor men in rags and nightcaps elsewhere (they are not far from here, and the tower of Notre-Dame de Paris is almost in the middle of the poles, from which they can be seen), these The mansion has become a very disturbing place--if there are people in your lord's mansion who are also responsible for studying this problem.Military officials who know nothing about military affairs; navy officers who know nothing about ships; government officials who have no concept of political affairs; and shameless priests with the most serious hearts, with lewd eyes, loose tongues, and even looser lives.These people are all just pretending, all telling big lies and pretending to be competent at their jobs.They all belong to the city of adults more or less closely, so that they can get involved in all public positions and gain benefits from them. There are hundreds of such people.There is also a large number of people here.They have no direct relationship with adults or countries, nor with anything practical, nor with the life of wandering far and wide.Physicians who have made a fortune treating imaginary ailments that do not exist with fancy medicines smile at elegant patients in the antechambers of their lords; devise all sorts of strategies for the pettiness of the nation, yet not even a single crime The purgers, who could not be seriously eliminated, spouted bewildering high-level speeches to the ears of the adults at the reception.The godless philosopher who wanted to change the world with empty talk and build the Tower of Babel with cards to lead to heaven, had a heart-to-heart talk with the godless alchemist who wanted to turn aluminum into gold at the master's gathering.Gentle gentlemen of good taste and the best education (in that splendid age--and thereafter--the best education can be distinguished by the lack of interest in the natural topics that concern human interests) in the In the adult's mansion, playing exhausted is always the best example for everyone.Families of this type left a diverse and striking cast on Paris high society.It was very difficult for the inquisitors, among the many loyal people who assembled in the mansion of your lordship (they made up more than half of the upper class) to find a lonely wife in that fairy-infested world who recognized herself as a mother in manner and appearance. difficult.In fact, apart from the gesture that brings troublesome life into the world--a gesture that is far from embodying the title of mother--there is no such thing as a mother in fashionable circles.The untimely children were secretly raised and brought up quietly by rural women, while charming sixtieth women went to dinner parties dressed like twenty-year-old girls.

Unrealism is a leprosy.It distorts everyone who attends your lord.In the outermost room there were half a dozen or so unusual people who had been vaguely uneasy for years that things were generally bad.As a promising remedy for the ills of the time, half of the six or seven joined a fanciful sect: the Twitches.They are considering in the circle whether they should foam at the mouth, lose their temper, yell and make trouble, and act like a strong fainting, leaving an easy-to-understand prophecy for the future and guiding adults in the maze.In addition to these Dervishites, the other three joined another sect, which wanted to save the world with the "center of truth".They believe that although human beings have left the center of truth—there is no need to prove this—but they have not escaped from the "circle", so they must try to stop the escape, or even send them back to the center. The methods are fasting and channeling.Therefore, these people often communicate with the spirits, which brings untold blessings, although the blessings have not yet been revealed.

It is consolation that the people in your lord's mansion are all well-clothed, and that if the Doomsday shall come on the day of dress, everyone there may be eternally right.Their hair was so curly, so high, and so beautifully powdered; their skin so well-kept and made up, so fresh and fresh; their swords so dainty; their noses Received such exquisite hospitality, all of which will continue for aeons and eons.The most well-bred and refined gentlemen have little ornaments that jingle as they loll about,--these gold shackles are like precious little bells.There was the tinkling of gold ornaments on the one hand, and the sound of silk dresses on the other, and the air was stirred, and St. Antoine and his devouring hunger were eaten away.

Clothes are tried and tested talismans and spells that maintain the existing order of everything.Everyone gets dressed up for a never-ending masquerade ball.From the Tuileries, the lordship, the court, the privy council, the courts, the whole society was a masquerade (except for the rags) and even the common executioner attended.The executioner must also "curly hair, powder, wear a gold-rimmed cloak, white stockings and light non-loop shoes" according to the requirements of the charm. In this fine attire "Monsieur Paris" presides over the gallows and gallows (axes were seldom used in those days).His brethren in the provinces, including M. Orléans, called him "Monsieur Paris" according to the Catholic custom.Who in this reception of my lordship of seven hundred and eighty years would have guessed that a system based on executioners with curly hair, powdered powder, gold-rimmed cloaks, slip-on slippers, and white silk stockings would one day see My own star has disappeared!

The lord ate his chocolate, relieved the burden of the four subordinates, ordered the most sacred door to be opened, and then stepped out.What a scene of lowering eyebrows, bowing heads, flattering, sneering, and groveling!From the body to the spirit - bowing to the ground is not so submissive to God - this may be one of the reasons why adults' admirers never bother God! Your Excellency makes a promise here, smiles there, whispers a word to this happy slave, waves a hand to that slave, and amiably walks through several rooms to the remote area of ​​"the edge of truth" , turned again, and a moment later had his chocolatiers shut him up in the cella.

The audience ceremony ended, the vibration of the air turned into a small storm, and the precious little bell went downstairs.In an instant, there was only one person left in the audience. This person walked out in front of a row of mirrors with his hat under his arm and a snuffbox in his hand. "I dedicate you to Yiyi." The man came to the last door and stopped, and turned to the cella. "The devil!" Having said this, he shook the snuff off his fingers like dust from his feet, and went downstairs without a sound. This is a man in his sixties.The clothes are luxurious, the attitude is arrogant, and the face is like a delicate mask.His complexion is transparent and pale, his features are well-defined and always rigid.If the nose was not slightly concave on the two nostrils, it could be considered beautiful.And the only change on his face was in the hollow (or nostril dimple).The place sometimes changed color constantly, sometimes expanded or contracted with a slight pulse, and sometimes gave the whole face a treacherous, cruel expression.But if you observe carefully, you will find that the roots of this expression are in the wrinkles around the mouth and the corners of the eyes.Those wrinkles are too light, too fine.Still, as far as the impression of that face was concerned, it was handsome and striking.

The owner of the face went downstairs into the yard, got into his carriage and drove off.Not many people talked to him at the reception, he stood slightly away from the crowd, and the attitude of the adults towards him was not very enthusiastic.At this moment he was quite proud, because he saw ordinary people running around in front of his carriage, and often almost being run over by it.His subordinates drove the car as if charging the enemy, but this reckless approach did not attract the slightest restraint from the brows and corners of the master's mouth.Even in that deaf city and mute age, the complaints were sometimes audible, that the Roman aristocratic habit of savagely driving horses savagely threatened the common people in the streets without sidewalks. lives or cripple them.Yet such events are rarely noticed and considered.In this as in other matters, therefore, the common poor have to overcome their difficulties by their own efforts.

The clanging of cars, the clatter of hooves, and the horse-drawn carriage galloping like crazy, the way of indulgence, arrogance, and disregard of others' life and death is hard to understand today.It galloped down the street, sweeping around corners, women screaming in front of it, men tugging at each other, dragging children to the side of the road.At last, as it turned sharply at a street corner by a spring, a wheel gave a sickening shudder, and several throats let out a yelp, and the horses came down on their fore-legs, and then came to a stop on their hindquarters. down. If it weren't for the obstacle just now, the carriage probably wouldn't have stopped; at that time, the carriage often left the wounded behind and drove away by itself.why not?But the astonished squire had hurried out of the cart--the bridles of several horses were seized by twenty arms. "What's the matter?" said the grown-up, looking out calmly. A tall man in a nightcap had grabbed a package-like thing from under the horse's feet, placed it on the stone foundation by the spring, and prostrated himself in the muddy water, howling at it like a beast. "Excuse me, my lord!" said a tattered, submissive man. "It's a child." "Why is he howling so annoyingly? Is it his child?" "Forgive me, Lord Marquis, it's a pity, yes." The spring was some distance away, for the street spread out at the spring into a square ten or twelve yards square.The tall man suddenly jumped up from the ground and ran towards the carriage.His Excellency the Marquis held the hilt of his sword with his hand for a moment. "It's crushed to death!" The man screamed desperately, his arms stretched high above his head, and his eyes stared at him. "Dead!" The crowd gathered around and looked at Lord Marquis.The eyes that stared at him bore no expression other than alertness and urgency, no threat or anger that could come later.People didn't say anything either.They had been silent since the first exclamation, and have remained so ever since.The submissive voice of the speaker was flat and docile, expressing extreme obedience.Monsieur Marquis glanced over each of them as if they were a group of rats that had just emerged from their holes. He pulled out his wallet. "I think it's strange," he said, "you people can't take care of yourselves and your children. There's always one or two in the way. I don't know what you've done to my horse. Look! Give him this." He threw out a gold coin and ordered his squire to pick it up.All heads were stretched forward like white cranes, and all eyes wanted to see the gold coin fall.The tall man yelled again in a voice that was definitely not human, "Dead!" Another man hurried over to hold him back, and the others stepped aside.The poor man threw himself on his shoulder when he saw the approacher, sobbing and wailing, and pointing to the spring.There were a few women standing bowed in front of the motionless package, doing something slowly, but they were as silent as the men. "I know it all, I know it all," said the newcomer. "Be brave, Gaspard. Poor little trick is better off dead like this. It's gone in a second and it's not hurt. Can he live like this for an hour?" "You are a philosopher, you," said the Marquis, smiling. "What do people call you?" "Call me Defarge." "what is your job?" "Liquor seller, Lord Marquis." "Pick up this coin, philosopher who sells wine," said the Marquis, throwing him another coin. "Go and spend whatever you want. How about the horse, is it all right?" Lord Marquis looked at the crowd with disdain.He leaned back and was about to leave with the air of a lord who accidentally broke an ordinary thing and had already lost money and could afford it, when a gold coin flew into the car and fell on the ground with a clang. His sense of relief was suddenly shattered when he got off the board. "Stop!" said His Excellency the Marquis. "Take hold of the horse! Who threw it?" He looked at the place where Defarge the wine seller had been standing.But the miserable father was crawling on the road there, and the figure beside him had become a dark and strong woman knitting. "You bastards," said the Marquis, calmly, without changing face except for two spots on the wing of the nose, "I would be more than happy to run over any of you, and wipe you out of the world. If I Knowing which bastard threw something at the carriage, if the robber is not far from my carriage, I will let my wheels grind him to a pulp!" The crowd is used to bullying and intimidation, and has a long and painful experience.They knew how much such a man could inflict on them, legally and illegally, and they made no reply.Not a hand moved, not even an eye was raised--none of the men, except that the knitting woman was still staring intently at the Marquis's face.It would have been unworthy of the Marquis to notice this, and his contemptuous eyes flicked over her head, as well as over the heads of the other mice, and then he leaned back in his chair again, giving the order. ,"Walk!" The carriage took him away.Other cars flew by one after the other: stewards, counselors, tax-contractors, doctors, lawyers, priests, opera singers, comedians, and the whole masquerade party, all flying by in a dazzling stream.The mice crawled out of their holes to peek, and watched for hours.Soldiers and policemen often passed between them and the tangled procession, forming a barrier from which they could only linger and peep.The father had already disappeared with his package.The women who had just tended the bundles lying by the spring sat down by the spring and watched the water gurgling by and the masquerade ball rumbling by.The woman who stood there so conspicuously knitting just now was still knitting, standing still like a goddess of fate.The water of the well spring is rushing, the torrential river is rushing, daytime turns into dusk, and many lives in the city flow towards death according to the law, and the times and trends do not stop for anyone.The mice were sleeping huddled together in their dark holes again, the masquerade was having dinner under bright lights, and everything was on track.