THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя
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Название: THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA
Автор: Эмиль Золя
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 9788027233410
isbn:
Philippe had to leave his horse behind, and the two lovers started off bravely together. They passed through meadows, ploughed fields and pine woods, taking short cuts and walking very quickly. It was about four o’clock. The sun, clear and scorching, cast before them broad sheets of light. And they hastened along in the warm air, urged on by the madness which was eating into their hearts. As they passed by, the labourers raised their heads and watched their flight with amazement.
It did not take them an hour to reach the home of Philippe’s mother. Blanche, quite tired out, seated herself on a stone bench beside the door, whilst the young man went to see if the coast was clear. He then returned and conducted her to his room. He had begged Ayasse, a gardener whom his mother was employing that day, to fetch a vehicle from Marseille.
Both were still a prey to the excitement of their flight. Whilst awaiting the vehicle, they remained silent and anxious. Philippe, having led Blanche to a little chair, knelt at her feet and gazed lingeringly at her, seeking to reassure her by gently kissing the hand she yielded to him.
“You cannot remain in that light gown,” he said, after a time. “Would you like to dress up as a man?”
Blanche smiled. She felt childlike joy at the thought of disguising herself.
“My brother is rather short,” continued Philippe. “You can put on some of his things.”
It made them quite merry. The young girl dressed herself, laughing the while. She was charmingly awkward, and Philippe eagerly kissed the blushes on her cheeks. When she was ready, she had quite the appearance of a little man, of a youngster of twelve. She had great difficulty in confining her mass of hair in the hat, and her lover’s hands trembled as he gathered the rebellious locks together.
Ayasse at length returned with the vehicle. He consented to receive the fugitives in his own home at Saint Barnabé. Philippe took what money he possessed, and all three entered the carriage which they left at the Pont du Jarret, continuing the journey to the gardener’s house on foot.
It was now twilight. Transparent shadows were falling from the pale heavens, whilst acrid odours rose from the earth, still warm with the last rays of the sun. Then a vague fear took possession of Blanche. Her heart was sinking within her, she sought to gain time.
“Listen,” said she to Philippe, “I will write to my confessor, Abbé Chastanier. He will go and see my uncle, to obtain my pardon and his consent to our marriage. I think I should not be so frightened were I your wife.”
Philippe smiled at the tender simplicity of the last words.
“Write to Abbé Chastanier,” he answered. “For my part, I will send my brother our address. He will come tomorrow and will take your letter.”
It was thus that Blanche de Cazalis eloped with Philippe Cayol, one fine May evening.
Ah! sweet and terrible night! which was doomed to overwhelm the lovers with wretchedness, and bring them nothing but suffering and regret for the rest of their lives.
CHAPTER II
INTRODUCES THE HERO, MARIUS CAYOL
MARIUS CAYOL, the brother of Blanche’s lover, was about twenty-five years old. He was short, thin and puny. His light yellow face, with its long narrow black eyes, was lighted up at times with a kind smile of self-devotion and resignation. He walked with a slight stoop, and the hesitation and timidity of a child. But the hatred of evil, the love of uprightness, that filled his being, made him appear almost handsome.
He had assumed the hardships of the family, leaving his brother to follow his ambitious and passionate instincts.
He made himself quite insignificant beside him, saying, generally, that as he was the ugly one he ought not to emerge from his ugliness; he added that it was excusable for Philippe to like to display his fine figure and the vigorous beauty of his countenance. Moreover, when necessary, he could be severe towards the great impetuous child, who was his senior, and whom he treated with the remonstrances and affection of a father.
Their mother, now a widow, was not at all wealthy. She had a difficulty in making both ends meet on the remnants of her dowry, the major portion of which her husband had lost in business. This money, deposited at a banker’s, yielded her a small income which had enabled her to bring up her two sons. But, when they had reached man’s estate, she showed them her empty hands, and placed them face to face with the difficulties of life. And the two brothers, thrown thus into the struggle for existence, led on by their different natures, followed diametrically opposite courses.
Philippe, who had an appetite for wealth and liberty, could not bend himself to labour. He wished to attain fortune by the shortest road, and had visions of making a rich marriage. That was, in his idea, an excellent expedient, a rapid means of obtaining an income and a pretty wife. So he passed his life in the sunshine, became amorous, and even slightly dissipated. He experienced an extreme delight in being well-dressed, in displaying his elegant, hasty manners, his eccentric garments, his love-laden glances and speeches, about Marseille. His mother and brother, who spoilt him, endeavoured to provide for his whims. Moreover, Philippe was acting in good faith: he adored women, and it seemed natural to him to be beloved and carried off some day by a rich and beautiful young girl of noble birth.
Whilst his brother was exhibiting his fine looks, Marius had taken a situation as clerk in the office of M. Martelly, a shipowner residing in the Rue de la Darse. He felt quite happy hidden away in his office, his sole ambition being to earn a modest competence, and to live a peaceful and unostentatious life. Besides this, he felt a secret pleasure in assisting his mother and brother. The money he earned was dear to him, because he could give it away and bestow happiness with it, and himself taste the profound delights of self-sacrifice. He had chosen in life the straight way, the painful path which leads to peace, joy, and self-respect.
The young man was on the point of starting for his office, when he received the letter in which his brother informed him of his elopement with Mademoiselle de Cazalis. It filled him with painful surprise, and he beheld at a glance the frightful chasm into the depths of which the lovers had cast themselves. He hastened without loss of time to Saint Barnabé.
At the door of Ayasse the gardener’s house was a vine trained to form an arbour, whilst two big mulberry trees, pruned to the shape of parasols, spread their knotty branches around and cast their shade upon the entry. Marius found Philippe seated in the arbour, gazing lovingly upon Blanche de Cazalis beside him. The young girl, already weary, was silently regretting what they had done.
The interview was a painful one, full of anguish and shame. Philippe rose up.
“You blame me?” he asked, holding his hand out to his brother.
“Yes, I blame you,” answered Marius energetically. “You have committed a base action. Pride has led you away and passion has ruined you. You have not thought of the evils you will bring on your family and yourself.”
Philippe protested.
“You are frightened,” he said bitterly. “For myself, I did not stop to consider. I loved Blanche and she returned my love. I said to her: ‘Will you come with me?’ and she came. That is the whole story. We are neither of us deserving of censure.”
“Why lie?” replied Marius with greater severity. “You’re not СКАЧАТЬ