Three-Book Edition. Hilary Mantel
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Three-Book Edition - Hilary Mantel страница 87

Название: Three-Book Edition

Автор: Hilary Mantel

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия:

isbn: 9780007528479

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ sighed. ‘What is the use? Consciences cannot be forced.’

      ‘I believe Deputy Robespierre was your pupil too?’

      ‘For a little while.’

      Father Pancemont looked at him as one who said, I was in Lisbon during the earthquake year. ‘You have given up teaching now?’ he asked.

      ‘Oh, look – there are worse people.’

      ‘I can’t think of any,’ the priest said.

      THE WITNESSES to the marriage: Robespierre, Pétion, the writer Louis-Sébastien Mercier, and the Duke’s friend, the Marquis de Sillery. A diplomatically chosen selection, representing the left wing of the Assembly, the literary establishment and the Orléanist connection.

      ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Camille said to Danton. ‘Really I wanted Lafayette, Louis Suleau, Marat and the public executioner.’

      ‘Of course I don’t mind.’ After all, he thought, I shall be a witness to everything else. ‘Are you going to be rich now?’

      ‘The dowry is a hundred thousand livres. And there’s some quite valuable silver. Don’t look at me like that. I’ve had to work for it.’

      ‘And are you going to be faithful to her?’

      ‘Of course.’ He looked shocked. ‘What a question. I love her.’

      ‘I only wondered. I thought it might be nice to have a statement of intent.’

      THEY TOOK a first-floor apartment on the rue des Cordeliers, next door to the Dantons; and on 30 December they held their wedding breakfast for a hundred guests, the dark, icy day nuzzling in hostile curiosity at the lighted windows. At one o’clock in the morning they found themselves alone. Lucile was still in her pink wedding dress, now crumpled, and with a sticky patch where she had spilled a glass of champagne over herself some hours earlier. She sank down on to the blue chaise-longue, and kicked off her shoes. ‘Oh, what a day! Has there been anything like it in the annals of holy matrimony? My God, rows of people sniffing and groaning, and my mother crying, and my father crying, and then old Bérardier publically lecturing you like that, and you crying, and the half of Paris that wasn’t weeping in the pews standing outside in the streets shouting slogans and making lewd comments. And – ’ Her voice tailed off. The day’s sick excitement washed over her, wave on wave of it. Probably, she thought, this is what it’s like to be at sea. Camille seemed to be talking to her from a long way off:

      ‘…and I never thought that happiness like this could have anything to do with me, because two years ago I had nothing, and now I have you, and I’ve got the money to live well, and I’m famous…’

      ‘I’ve had too much to drink,’ Lucile said.

      When she thought back on the ceremony, everything appeared to be a sort of haze, so that she felt that perhaps even by then she had had too much to drink, and she wondered in momentary panic, are we properly married? Is drunkenness an incapacity? What about last week, when we looked over the apartment – was I quite sober then? Where is the apartment?

      ‘I thought they’d never go,’ Camille said.

      She looked up at him. All the things she’d been going to say, all the rehearsals she’d had for this moment, four years of rehearsals; and now, when it came to it, she could only manage a queasy smile. She forced her eyes open to stop the room spinning, and then closed them again, and let it spin. She rolled face down on the chaise-longue, drew up her knees comfortably, and gave a little grunt of contentment, like the dog at Saint-Sulpice. She slept. Some kind person slid a hand under her cheek, and then replaced the hand by a cushion.

      ‘LISTEN to what I will be,’ said the King, ‘if I do not uphold the constitutional oath on the poor bishops.’ He adjusted his spectacles and read:

      ‘…enemy of the public liberty, treacherous conspirator, most cowardly of perjurers, prince without honour, without shame, lowest of men…’ He broke off, put down the newspaper and blew his nose vigorously into a handkerchief embroidered with the royal arms – the last he had, of the old sort. ‘A happy new year to you too, Dr Marat,’ he said.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABQAAD/4QRDaHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0i aHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1w PSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bWxuczpkYz0iaHR0cDovL3B1cmwub3Jn L2RjL2VsZW1lbnRzLzEuMS8iIHhtcE1NOk9yaWdpbmFsRG9jdW1lbnRJRD0idXVpZDo3NThlNjM0 ZC03ZDAxLTFjNDItYTBjNi1hN2RjNzY4YmE4MWQiIHhtcE1NOkRvY3VtZW50SUQ9InhtcC5kaWQ6 NTlEMEYxQUM4QjFGMTFFMkEyMDlCQTMyQkRCQUFCQjYiIHhtcE1NOkluc3RhbmNlSUQ9InhtcC5p aWQ6NTlEMEYxQUI4QjFGMTFFMkEyMDlCQTMyQkRCQUFCQjYiIHhtcDpDcmVhdG9yVG9vbD0iQWRv YmUgUGhvdG9zaG9wIENTNS4xIE1hY2ludG9zaCI+IDx4bXBNTTpEZXJpdmVkRnJvbSBzdFJlZjpp bnN0YW5jZUlEPSJ4bXAuaWlkOjQ0Q0VDMzcxQjMyMDY4MTFBRTM2ODEyRTQzNDcyQzMxIiBzdFJl Zjpkb2N1bWVudElEPSJ4bXAuZGlkOjQzQ0VDMzcxQjMyMDY4MTFBRTM2ODEyRTQzNDcyQzMxIi8+ IDxkYzpjcmVhdG9yPiA8cmRmOlNlcT4gPHJkZjpsaT40dGhqeGg8L3JkZjpsaT4gPC9yZGY6U2Vx PiA8L2RjOmNyZWF0b3I+IDxkYzp0aXRsZT4gPHJkZjpBbHQ+IDxyZGY6bGkgeG1sOmxhbmc9Ingt ZGVmYXVsdCI+VW50aXRsZWQtMTwvcmRmOmxpPiA8L3JkZjpBbHQ+IDwvZGM6dGl0bGU+IDwvcmRm OkRlc2NyaXB0aW9uPiA8L3JkZjpSREY+IDwveDp4bXBtZXRhPiA8P3hwYWNrZXQgZW5kPSJyIj8+ /+0ASFBob3Rvc2hvcCAzLjAAOEJJTQQEAAAAAAAPHAFaAAMbJUccAgAAAgACADhCSU0EJQAAAAAA EPzhH4nIt8l4LzRiNAdYd+v/4gxYSUNDX1BST0ZJTEUAAQEAAAxITGlubwIQAABtbnRyUkdCIFhZ WiAHzgACAAkABgAxAABhY3NwTVNGVAAAAABJRUMgc1JHQgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA9tYAAQAAAADT LUhQICAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABFjcHJ0 AAABUAAAADNkZXNjAAABhAAAAGx3dHB0AAAB8AAAABRia3B0AAACBAAAABRyWFlaAAACGAAAABRn WFlaAAACLAAAABRiWFlaAAACQAAAABRkbW5kAAACVAAAAHBkbWRkAAACxAAAAIh2dWVkAAADTAAA AIZ2aWV3AAAD1AAAACRsdW1pAAAD+AAAABRtZWFzAAAEDAAAACR0ZWNoAAAEMAAAAAxyVFJDAAAE PAAACAxnVFJDAAAEPAAACAxiVFJDAAAEPAAACAx0ZXh0AAAAAENvcHlyaWdodCAoYykgMTk5OCBI ZXdsZXR0LVBhY2thcmQgQ29tcGFueQAAZGVzYwAAAAAAAAASc1JHQiBJRUM2MTk2Ni0yLjEAAAAA AAAAAAAAABJzUkdCIElFQzYxOTY2LTIuMQAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWFlaIAAAAAAAAPNRAAEAAAABFsxYWVogAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AFhZWiAAAAAAAABvogAAOPUAAAOQWFlaIAAAAAAAAGKZAAC3hQAAGNpYWVogAAAAAAAAJKAAAA+E AAC2z2Rlc2MAAAAAAAAAFklFQyBodHRwOi8vd3d3LmllYy5jaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAFklFQyBodHRw Oi8vd3d3LmllYy5jaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AABkZXNjAAAAAAAAAC5JRUMgNjE5NjYtMi4xIERlZmF1bHQgUkdCIGNvbG91ciBzcGFjZSAtIHNS R0IAAAAAAAAAAAAAAC5JRUMgNjE5NjYtMi4xIERlZmF1bHQgUkdCIGNvbG91ciBzcGFjZSAtIHNS R0IAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA СКАЧАТЬ