the hunchback of notre dame-第82部分

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And　when　he　sought　to　picture　to　himself　the　happiness　which　he　might　have　found　upon　earth；　if　she　had　not　been　a　gypsy；　and　if　he　had　not　been　a　priest；　if　Phoebus　had　not　existed　and　if　she　had　loved　him；　when　he　pictured　to　himself　that　a　life　of　serenity　and　love　would　have　been　possible　to　him　also；　even　to　him；　that　there　were　at　that　very　moment；　here　and　there　upon　the　earth；　happy　couples　spending　the　hours　in　sweet　converse　beneath　orange　trees；　on　the　banks　of　brooks；　in　the　presence　of　a　setting　sun；　of　a　starry　night；　and　that　if　God　had　so　willed；　he　might　have　formed　with　her　one　of　those　blessed　couples；his　heart　melted　in　tenderness　and　despair。

Oh！　she！　still　she！　　It　was　this　fixed　idea　which　returned　incessantly；　which　tortured　him；　which　ate　into　his　brain；　and　rent　his　vitals。　　He　did　not　regret；　he　did　not　repent；　all　that　he　had　done　he　was　ready　to　do　again；　he　preferred　to　behold　her　in　the　hands　of　the　executioner　rather　than　in　the　arms　of　the　captain。　　But　he　suffered；　he　suffered　so　that　at　intervals　he　tore　out　handfuls　of　his　hair　to　see　whether　it　were　not　turning　white。

Among　other　moments　there　came　one；　when　it　occurred　to　him　that　it　was　perhaps　the　very　minute　when　the　hideous　chain　which　he　had　seen　that　morning；　was　pressing　its　iron　noose　closer　about　that　frail　and　graceful　neck。　　This　thought　caused　the　perspiration　to　start　from　every　pore。

There　was　another　moment　when；　while　laughing　diabolically　at　himself；　he　represented　to　himself　la　Esmeralda　as　he　had　seen　her　on　that　first　day；　lively；　careless；　joyous；　gayly　attired；　dancing；　winged；　harmonious；　and　la　Esmeralda　of　the　last　day；　in　her　scanty　shift；　with　a　rope　about　her　neck；　mounting　slowly　with　her　bare　feet；　the　angular　ladder　of　the　gallows；　he　figured　to　himself　this　double　picture　in　such　a　manner　。that　he　gave　vent　to　a　terrible　cry。

While　this　hurricane　of　despair　overturned；　broke；　tore　up；　bent；　uprooted　everything　in　his　soul；　he　gazed　at　nature　around　him。　　At　his　feet；　some　chickens　were　searching　the　thickets　and　pecking；　enamelled　beetles　ran　about　in　the　sun；　overhead；　some　groups　of　dappled　gray　clouds　were　floating　across　the　blue　sky；　on　the　horizon；　the　spire　of　the　Abbey　Saint…Victor　pierced　the　ridge　of　the　hill　with　its　slate　obelisk；　and　the　miller　of　the　Copeaue　hillock　was　whistling　as　he　watched　the　laborious　wings　of　his　mill　turning。　　All　this　active；　organized；　tranquil　life；　recurring　around　him　under　a　thousand　forms；　hurt　him。　　He　resumed　his　flight。

He　sped　thus　across　the　fields　until　evening。　　This　flight

from　nature；　life；　himself；　man；　God；　everything；　lasted　all　day　long。　　Sometimes　he　flung　himself　face　downward　on　the；　earth；　and　tore　up　the　young　blades　of　wheat　with　his　nails。　Sometimes　he　halted　in　the　deserted　street　of　a　village；　and　his　thoughts　were　so　intolerable　that　he　grasped　his　head　in　both　hands　and　tried　to　tear　it　from　his　shoulders　in　order　to　dash　it　upon　the　pavement。

Towards　the　hour　of　sunset；　he　examined　himself　again；　and　found　himself　nearly　mad。　　The　tempest　which　had　raged　within　him　ever　since　the　instant　when　he　had　lost　the　hope　and　the　will　to　save　the　gypsy；that　tempest　had　not　left　in　his　conscience　a　single　healthy　idea；　a　single　thought　which　maintained　its　upright　position。　　His　reason　lay　there　almost　entirely　destroyed。　　There　remained　but　two　distinct　images　in　his　mind；　la　Esmeralda　and　the　gallows；　all　the　rest　was　blank。　　Those　two　images　united；　presented　to　him　a　frightful　group；　and　the　more　he　concentrated　what　attention　and　thought　was　left　to　him；　the　more　he　beheld　them　grow；　in　accordance　with　a　fantastic　progression；　the　one　in　grace；　in　charm；　in　beauty；　in　light；　the　other　in　deformity　and　horror；　so　that　at　last　la　Esmeralda　appeared　to　him　like　a　star；　the　gibbet　like　an　enormous；　fleshless　arm。

One　remarkable　fact　is；　that　during　the　whole　of　this　torture；　the　idea　of　dying　did　not　seriously　occur　to　him。　　The　wretch　was　made　so。　　He　clung　to　life。　　Perhaps　he　really　saw　hell　beyond　it。

Meanwhile；　the　day　continued　to　decline。　　The　living　being　which　still　existed　in　him　reflected　vaguely　on　retracing　its　steps。　　He　believed　himself　to　be　far　away　from　Paris；　on　taking　his　bearings；　he　perceived　that　he　had　only　circled　the　enclosure　of　the　University。　　The　spire　of　Saint…Sulpice；　and　the　three　lofty　needles　of　Saint　Germain…des…Prés；　rose　above　the　horizon　on　his　right。　　He　turned　his　steps　in　that　direction。　　When　he　heard　the　brisk　challenge　of　the　men…at…arms　of　the　abbey；　around　the　crenelated；　circumscribing　wall　of　Saint…Germain；　he　turned　aside；　took　a　path　which　presented　itself　between　the　abbey　and　the　lazar…house　of　the　bourg；　and　at　the　expiration　of　a　few　minutes　found　himself　on　the　verge　of　the　Pré…aux…Clercs。　　This　meadow　was　celebrated　by　reason　of　the　brawls　which　went　on　there　night　and　day；　it　was　the　hydra　of　the　poor　monks　of　Saint…Germain：　~quod　mouachis　Sancti…Germaini　pratensis　hydra　fuit；　clericis　nova　semper　dissidiorum　capita　suscitantibus~。　　The　archdeacon　was　afraid　of　meeting　some　one　there；　he　feared　every　human　countenance；　he　had　just　avoided　the　University　and　the　Bourg　Saint…Germain；　he　wished　to　re…enter　the　streets　as　late　as　possible。　　He　skirted　the　Pré…aux…Clercs；　took　the　deserted　path　which　separated　it　from　the　Dieu…Neuf；　and　at　last　reached　the　water's　edge。　　There　Dom　Claude　found　a　boatman；　who；　for　a　few　farthings　in　Parisian　coinage；　rowed　him　up　the　Seine　as　far　as　the　point　of　the　city；　and　landed　him　on　that　tongue　of　abandoned　land　where　the　reader　has　already　beheld　Gringoire　dreaming；　and　which　was　prolonged　beyond　the　king's　gardens；　parallel　to　the　Ile　du　Passeur…aux…Vaches。

The　monotonous　rocking　of　the　boat　and　the　ripple　of　the　water　had；　in　some　sort；　quieted　the　unhappy　Claude。　　When　the　boatman　had　taken　his　departure；　he　remained　standing　stupidly　on　the　strand；　staring　straight　before　him　and　perceiving　objects　only　through　magnifying　oscillations　which　rendered　everything　a　sort　of　phantasmagoria　to　him。　　The　fatigue　of　a　great　grief　not　infrequently　produces　this　effect　on　the　mind。

The　sun　had　set　behind　the　lofty　Tour…de…Nesle。　　It　was　the　twilight　hour。　　The　sky　was　white；　the　water　of　the　river　was　white。　　Between　these　two　white　expanses；　the　left　bank　of　the　Seine；　on　which　his　eyes　were　fixed；　projected　its　gloomy　mass　and；　rendered　ever　thinner　and　thinner　by　perspective；　it　plunged　into　the　gloom　of　the　horizon　like　a　black　spire。　　It　was　loaded　with　houses；　of　which　only　the　obscure　outline　could　be　distinguished；　sharply　brought　out　in　shadows　against　the　light　background　of　the　sky　and　the　water。　　Here　and　there　windows　began　to　gleam；　like　the　holes　in　a　brazier。　That　immense　black　obelisk　thus　isolated　between　the　two　white　expanses　of　the　sky　and　the　river；　which　was　very　broad　at　this　point；　produced　upon　Dom　Claude　a　singular　effect；　comparable　to　that　which　would　be　experienced　by　a　man　who；　reclining　on　his　back　at　the　foot　of　the　tower　of　Strasburg；　should　gaze　at　the　enormous　spire　plunging　into　the　shadows　of　the　twilight　above　his　head。　　Only；　in　this　case；　it　was　Claude　who　was　erect　and　the　obelisk　which　was　lying　down；　but；　as　the　river；　reflecting　the　sky；　prolonged　the　abyss　below　him；　the　immense　promontory　seemed　to　be　as　boldly　launched　into　space　as　any　cathedral　spire；　and　the　impression　was　the　same。　　This　impression　had　even　one　stronger　and　more　profound　point　about　it；　that　it　was　indeed　the　tower　of　Strasbourg；　but　the　tower　of　Strasbourg　two　leagues　in　height；　something　unheard　of；　gigantic；　immeasurable；　an　edifice　such　as　no　human　eye　has　ever　seen；　a　tower　of　Babel。　The　chimneys　of　the　houses；　the　battlements　of　the　walls；　the　faceted　gables　of　the　roofs；　the　spire　of　the　Augustines；　the　tower　of　Nesle；　all　these　projections　which　broke　the　profile　of　the　colossal　obelisk　added　to　the　illusion　by　displaying　in　eccentric　fashion　to　the　eye　the　indentations　of　a　luxuriant　and　fantastic　sculpture。

Claude；　in　the　state　of　hallucination　in　which　he　found　himself；　believed　that　he　saw；　that　he　saw　with　his　actual　eyes；　the　bell　tower　of　hell；　the　thousand　lights　scattered　over　the　whole　height　of　the　terrible　tower　seemed　to　him　so　many　porches　of　the　immense　interior　furnace；　the　voices　and　noises　which　escaped　from　it　seemed　so　many　shrieks；　so　many　death　groans。　　Then　he　became　alarmed；　he　put　his　hands　on　his　ears　that　he　might　no　longer　hear；　turned　his　back　that　he　might　no　longer　see；　and　fled　from　the　frightful　vision　with　hasty　strides。

But　the　vision　was　in　himself。

When　he　re…entered　the　streets；　the　passers…by　elbowing　each　other　by　the　light　of　the　shop…fronts；　produced　upon　him　the　effect　of　a　constant　going　and　coming　of　spectres　about　him。　There　were　strange　noises　in　his　ears；　extraordinary　fancies　disturbed　his　brain。　　He　saw　neither　houses；　nor　pavements；　nor　chariots；　nor　men　and　women；　but　a　chaos　of　indeterminate　objects　whose　edges　melted　into　each　other。　　At　the　corner　of　the　Rue　de　la　Barillerie；　there　was　a　grocer's　shop　whose　porch　was　garnished　all　about；　according　to　immemorial　custom；　with　hoops　of　tin　from　which　hung　a　circle　of　wooden　candles；　which　came　in　con