Chapter 33 Four Tholomyers were so happy that they sang Spanish songs

It was full of vigor from morning till night.The whole of nature seemed to be having a festival and laughing.The flowerbeds of Sainte-Cruil exhale the fragrance, the breeze in the Seine blows the green leaves, the branches dance in the wind, the bees invade the jasmine, the swarms of wandering butterflies dance wildly among the yarrow, alfalfa and wild wheat, the king of France There are piles of rogue birds in the strict garden. Four happy couples are playing in the sun, fields, flowers, and woods, looking glamorous. This group of gods from the sky talked, sang, chased each other, danced, fluttered butterflies, picked morning glory, soaked their pink stockings in the tall grass; they were bright, crazy, and had no evil intentions for people. Every girl accepts kisses from every man anytime and anywhere, but Fantine, clinging to her sentimental, irritable, half-welcoming, half-rejecting resistance, has a special love in her heart. "You," Beloved said to her, "you're always like this."

This is joy.The activities of these couples are a strong call for life and nature, making everything in the world emit love and light.Once upon a time there was a fairy who created meadows and woods especially for lovers.From then on, the lover will play truant from school forever, day and night, for an endless period, as long as there are fields and students, such things will not stop for a day.Therefore, all thinkers miss the spring.Princes and grandchildren, knife sharpeners, ministers, gentry, people in the court and people in the city (there was such a saying in the past) all became the fairies' obedient subjects.Everyone laughed and pursued each other, and there was a kind of joyful light in the sky. Love is really a universal celebration!The old man under the moon is God.Breathless screams, chasing in the grass, slender waists hugged by hands, musical curses, love expressed with one syllable, taking cherries from one mouth to another, all these are burning It seemed to be burning, and the flame was as thin as the sky.Beautiful girls are willing to sacrifice color, and that probably will last forever.Philosophers, poets, and painters don't know what to do when they look at that infatuation, they are already dazzled.Huatuo called to Aixiang.The plebeian painter Lancre gazed at his ladies flying into the sky, Diderot praised love, and Dulphy even said that the ancient priests could not help being emotional.

After lunch, the four lovers went to the so-called Royal Square City, where they saw the plant newly shipped from India (I forgot its name for a moment, it was once a sensation, attracting all Parisians to Saint-Cloud ), it is a novel, pleasing, long-branched little tree, with countless thread-thin side branches fluffy and loose, without leaves, bearing thousands of small white clusters of flowers, like a bush full of flowers. s hair.Hordes of people go on and on admiring it. After looking at the tree, Tholomyer said loudly: "I invite you to ride the donkey!" After negotiating a price with the donkey driver, they turned back from Van Woer and Issy.When we arrived in Issy, there was another unexpected harvest. The gate of the state-owned park occupied by Quartermaster Bulgan happened to be wide open.They went through the iron gate and looked at the wooden monk in the cave. In the famous Hall of Mirrors, they tried those mysterious gadgets again. It is a kind of obscene trap. A wealthy pedant or Ducale turned into a Priapus fits perfectly.Between the two chestnut trees that Father Bern had sacrificed, there was a big swing net, and they swung vigorously.The beauties were swinging one by one, their skirts fluttering, and everyone was very happy. If Gorouge was present, he probably found his subject again; Toulouse and Tolosa are sister cities) sang an old Spanish song in a sentimental tune, probably inspired by seeing a beautiful girl swinging on a rope between trees:

Fantine alone refused to play on the swing. "I don't like that kind of accent," said Beloved angrily. Having lost their donkey, they had new happiness. They boarded a boat, crossed the Seine River, and walked from Baxi to the gate of the Star District.We remember that they got up at five o'clock in the morning, but it didn't matter! "There's no such thing as being tired on a Sunday," said Beloved. "We are so tired that we go to rest on Sunday." About three o'clock the four happy couples ran up Russian Hill, a novelty then in the Bojon Heights. Buildings, we can see its winding lines from the treetops of the Elysée Square.

From time to time Beloved cried out: "And what about the new thing? I want that new thing." "There is no hurry," replied Tholomyer.