有声名著之双城记Book2 Chapter08

　　有声名著之双城记

       CHAPTER VIIIMonseigneur in the Country

       A BEAUTIFUL landscape, with the corn bright in it, but notabundant. Patches of poor rye where corn should have been,patches of poor peas and beans, patches of most coarsevegetable substitutes for wheat. On inanimate nature, as onthe men and women who cultivated it, a prevalent tendencytowards an appearance of vegetating 1 unwillingly--dejecteddisposition to give up, and wither 2 away.

Monsieur the Marquis in his travelling carriage (which mighthave been lighter), conducted by four post-horses and twopostilions, fagged up a steep hill. A blush on the countenanceof Monsieur the Marquis was no impeachment 3 of his highbreeding; it was not from within; it was occasioned by anexternal circumstance beyond his control--the setting sun giveup, and wither away give up, and wither away.

The sunset struck so brilliantly into the travelling carriagewhen it gained the hill-top, that its occupant was steeped incrimson. `It will die out,' said Monsieur the Marquis,glancing at his hands, `directly.'

In effect, the sun was so low that it dipped at the moment.

When the heavy drag had been adjusted to the wheel, and thecarriage slid down hill, with a cinderous smell, in a cloud ofdust, the red glow departed quickly; the sun and the Marquisgoing down together, there was no glow left when the drag wastaken off.

But, there remained a broken country, bold and open, a littlevillage at the bottom of the hill, a broad sweep and risebeyond it, a church-tower, a windmill, a forest for the chase,and a crag with a fortress 5 on it used as a prison. Round uponall these darkening objects as the night drew on, the Marquislooked, with the air of one who was coming near home.

The village had its one poor street, with its poor brewery,poor tannery, poor tavern 6, poor stable-yard for relay ofpost+horses, poor fountain, all usual poor appointments. Ithad its poor people too. All its people were poor, and many ofthem were sitting at their doors, shredding 7 spare onions andthe like for supper, while many were at the fountain, washingleaves, and grasses, and any such small yieldings of the earththat could be eaten. Expressive 8 signs of what made them poor,were not wanting; the tax for the state, the tax for thechurch, the tax for the lord, tax local and tax general, wereto be paid here and to be paid there, according to solemninscription in the little village, until the wonder was, thatthere was any village left unswallowed.

Few children were to be seen, and no dogs. As to the men andwomen, their choice on earth was stated in the prospect--Lifeon the lowest terms that could sustain it, down in the littlevillage under die mill; or captivity 9 and Death in the dominantprison on the crag.

Heralded 10 by a courier in advance, and by the cracking of hispostilions' whips, which twined snake-like about their headsin the evening air, as if he came attended by the Furies,Monsieur the Marquis drew up in his travelling carriage at theposting-house gate. It was hard by the fountain, and thepeasants suspended their operations to look at him. He lookedat them, and saw in them, without knowing it, the slow surefiling down of misery-worn face and figure, that was to makethe meagerness of Frenchmen an English superstition 11 whichshould survive the truth through the best part of a hundredyears.

Monsieur the Marquis cast his eyes over the submissive facesthat drooped 12 before him, as the like of himself had droopedbefore Monseigneur of the Court--only the difference was, thatthese faces drooped merely to suffer and not to propitiate--when a grizzled mender of the roads joined the group.

`Bring me hither that fellow!' said the Marquis to thecourier.

The fellow was brought, cap in hand, and the other fellowsclosed round to look and listen, in the manner of the peopleat the Paris fountain.

`I passed you on the road?'

`Monseigneur, it is true. I had the honour of being passed onthe road.'

`Coming up the hill, and at the top of the hill, both?'

`Monseigneur, it is true.

`What did you look at, so fixedly 13?'

`Monseigneur, I looked at the man.'

He stooped a little, and with his tattered 14 blue cap pointedunder the carriage. All his fellows stooped to look under thecarriage.