英文
LXVII
It is often said that "death is the end of a journey," but the aptness of the simile is realized most fully in Paris. Any arrival, especially of a person of condition, upon the "dark brink," is hailed in much the same way as the traveler recently landed is hailed by hotel touts and pestered with their recommendations. With the exception of a few philosophically-minded persons, or here and there a family secure of handing down a name to posterity, nobody thinks beforehand of the practical aspects of death. Death always comes before he is expected; and, from a sentiment easy to understand, the heirs usually act as if the event were impossible. For which reason, almost every one that loses father or mother, wife or child, is immediately beset by scouts that profit by the confusion caused by grief to snare others. In former days, agents for monuments used to live round about the famous cemetery of Pere-Lachaise, and were gathered together in a single thoroughfare, which should by rights have been called the Street of Tombs; issuing thence, they fell upon the relatives of the dead as they came from the cemetery, or even at the grave-side. But competition and the spirit of speculation induced them to spread themselves further and further afield, till descending into Paris itself they reached the very precincts of the mayor's office. Indeed, the stone-mason's agent has often been known to invade the house of mourning with a design for the sepulchre in his hand.
I am in treaty with this gentleman, said the representative of the firm of Sonet to another agent who came up.
Pons deceased!... called the clerk at this moment. "Where are the witnesses?"
This way, sir, said the stone-mason's agent, this time addressing Remonencq.
Schmucke stayed where he had been placed on the bench, an inert mass. Remonencq begged the agent to help him, and together they pulled Schmucke towards the balustrade, behind which the registrar shelters himself from the mourning public. Remonencq, Schmucke's Providence, was assisted by Dr. Poulain, who filled in the necessary information as to Pons' age and birthplace; the German knew but one thing—that Pons was his friend. So soon as the signatures were affixed, Remonencq and the doctor (followed by the stone-mason's man), put Schmucke into a cab, the desperate agent whisking in afterwards, bent upon taking a definite order. La Sauvage, on the lookout in the gateway, half-carried Schmucke's almost unconscious form upstairs. Remonencq and the agent went up with her.
He will be ill! exclaimed the agent, anxious to make an end of the piece of business which, according to him, was in progress.
I should think he will! returned Mme. Sauvage. "He has been crying for twenty-four hours on end, and he would not take anything. There is nothing like grief for giving one a sinking in the stomach."
My dear client, urged the representative of the firm of Sonet, "do take some broth. You have so much to do; some one must go to the Hotel de Ville to buy the ground in the cemetery on which you mean to erect a monument to perpetuate the memory of the friend of the arts, and bear record to your gratitude."
Why, there is no sense in this! added Mme. Cantinet, coming in with broth and bread.
If you are as weak as this, you ought to think of finding some one to act for you, added Remonencq, "for you have a good deal on your hands, my dear sir. There is the funeral to order. You would not have your friend buried like a pauper!"
Come, come, my dear sir, put in La Sauvage, seizing a moment when Schmucke laid his head back in the great chair to pour a spoonful of soup into his mouth.
She fed him as if he had been a child, and almost in spite of himself.
Now, if you were wise, sir, since you are inclined to give yourself up quietly to grief, you would find some one to act for you—
As you are thinking of raising a magnificent monument to the memory of your friend, sir, you have only to leave it all to me; I will undertake—
What is all this? What is all this? asked La Sauvage. "Has M. Schmucke ordered something? Who may you be?"
I represent the firm of Sonet, my dear madame, the biggest monumental stone-masons in Paris, said the person in black, handing a business-card to the stalwart Sauvage.
Very well, that will do. Some one will go with you when the time comes; but you must not take advantage of the gentleman's condition now. You can quite see that he is not himself——
The agent led her out upon the landing. "If you will undertake to get the order for us," he said confidentially, "I am empowered to offer you forty francs."
Mme. Sauvage grew placable. "Very well, let me have your address," said she.
Schmucke meantime being left to himself, and feeling the stronger for the soup and bread that he had been forced to swallow, returned at once to Pons' rooms, and to his prayers. He had lost himself in the fathomless depths of sorrow, when a voice sounding in his ears drew him back from the abyss of grief, and a young man in a suit of black returned for the eleventh time to the charge, pulling the poor, tortured victim's coatsleeve until he listened. "Sir!" said he.
Vat ees it now?
Sir! we owe a supreme discovery to Dr. Gannal; we do not dispute his fame; he has worked miracles of Egypt afresh; but there have been improvements made upon his system. We have obtained surprising results. So, if you would like to see your friend again, as he was when he was alive—
See him again! cried Schmucke. "Shall he speak to me?"
Not exactly. Speech is the only thing wanting, continued the embalmer's agent. "But he will remain as he is after embalming for all eternity. The operation is over in a few seconds. Just an incision in the carotid artery and an injection.—But it is high time; if you wait one single quarter of an hour, sir, you will not have the sweet satisfaction of preserving the body...."
Go to der teufel!... Bons is ein spirit—und dat spirit is in hefn.
That man has no gratitude in his composition, remarked the youthful agent of one of the famous Gannal's rivals; "he will not embalm his friend."
The words were spoken under the archway, and addressed to La Cibot, who had just submitted her beloved to the process. "What would you have, sir!" she said. "He is the heir, the universal legatee. As soon as they get what they want, the dead are nothing to them."
中文
六十七、只有死人不受骚扰
人家常常说死是一个人的旅行到了终点，这譬喻在巴黎是再贴切也没有了。一个死人，尤其是一个有身份的死人，到了冥土仿佛游客到了码头，给所有的旅馆招待员闹得头昏脑涨。除了几个哲学家之外，除了家道富裕，又有住宅又有生圹的某些家庭之外，没有人会想到死和死的社会影响。在无论什么情形之下，死总是来得太早；并且由于感情关系，继承人从来不想到亲属是可能死的。所以，多半死了父亲、母亲、妻子、儿女的人，会立刻给那些兜生意的跑街包围，利用他们的悲痛与慌乱做成一些交易。早年间，承办墓地纪念工程的商人，都把铺子开在有名的拉雪兹公墓四周——他们集中的那条街可以叫作墓园街——以便在公墓左近或出口的地方包围丧家；可是同业竞争与投机心理，使他们不知不觉地扩充地盘，现在甚至进了城，散布到各区的区公所附近了，那般跑街往往还拿着坟墓的图样，闯进丧家的屋子。
“我正在跟先生谈生意呢。”索南公司的跑街对另一个走近前来的跑街说。
“喂，邦斯的丧家！……证人在哪儿？……”办公室的当差嚷道。
“来吧，先生。”跑街招呼雷蒙诺克。
许模克在凳上好似一块石头种在那里，雷蒙诺克只能请跑街帮着拉他起来，挟着他站在栏杆前面；办死亡证的职员跟大众的痛苦就隔着这道栏杆。许模克的救命星君雷蒙诺克，靠了波冷医生帮忙，代他把邦斯的年岁籍贯报了出来。德国人除了邦斯是他的朋友之外一无所知。大家签过了字，雷蒙诺克、医生、跑街把可怜的德国人挟上马车；那死不放松的伙计非要做成他的交易，也跟着挤上去。早等在大门口的梭伐女人，由雷蒙诺克和索南公司伙计帮着，把差不多晕倒了的许模克抱上楼。
“他要闹病了！……”跑街说。他还想把自以为开了场的买卖谈出个结果来。
“可不是！”梭伐女人回答，“他哭了一天一晚，一口东西都不肯吃。悲伤对身体是最坏的。”
跑街也跟着说：“亲爱的主顾，喝一碗汤吧。你还得办多少事呢：你得上市政府去买块地，安放你那位爱艺术的朋友的纪念像，你不是想表示你的感激吗？”
“不吃东西真是太胡闹了！”刚蒂南太太说着，手里拿了一盘肉汤一块面包。
雷蒙诺克插嘴道：“亲爱的先生，你这样累，就得找个代表，事情很多呢：你得去订送葬的仪仗，你朋友的丧事总不成给办得像穷人一样吧！”
“得了，得了，好先生！”梭伐女人看见许模克把脑袋倒在椅背上，乘机凑上来。
她拿一羹匙的汤送进许模克的嘴，像对付孩子一样硬逼他吃了些东西。
“现在，先生，你要是懂事的话，既然你想安安静静地躲在一边伤心，就得找个人来做你的代表……”
“既然先生有意替他朋友立一座美丽的纪念像，”跑街说，“不妨就托我代办一切，我可以……”
“什么？什么？”梭伐女人说，“先生向你订什么东西！你是谁？”
“我是索南公司的伙计，好太太，敝公司是承包墓地纪念像最大的号子……”他说着掏出一张名片递给魁伟的梭伐女人。
“好，好！……我们需要的时候会去找你们的；可是不能看他这副模样就欺侮他。你明明知道他现在头脑不清……”
索南公司的跑街把梭伐女人拉到楼梯台上，凑着她耳朵说：“要是你能设法让我们做成一笔交易，我可以代表公司送你四十法郎……”
“行，那么把你地址留下来。”梭伐女人变得客气了。
许模克看见人全走开了，肚子里有了汤和面包，觉得精神恢复了些，马上回到邦斯屋里去祈祷。他正陷在痛苦的深渊中昏昏沉沉的时候，忽然一个穿黑衣服的年轻人把他惊醒了。他已经“先生！先生！”地叫到第十一次，又抓着他的衣袖拼命地摇，才使可怜的受难者听到了声音。
“又是什么事啦？……”
“先生，迦那医生有个了不得的发明，把埃及人保护尸身不烂的奇迹给恢复了；敝公司决不否认迦那医生的伟大，可是我们的方法更进步，成绩更好。要是你想看到你的朋友，像他活着一样……”
“看到他？……他能跟我说话吗？”许模克嚷着。
“那不一定！……他就是不能说话；可是肉身是永远不坏的。手术只要一忽儿工夫。把颈动脉切开，来一个注射就行啦；可是得赶紧了……再过十五分钟，就赶不及替你朋友办这种称心如意的事啦……”
“去你的吧！……邦斯是有灵魂的！……这颗灵魂是在天上。”
这位青年跑街所代表的公司是跟有名的迦那医生竞争的，他走到大门口，说了句：“那家伙一点良心都没有，竟不肯替他的朋友做防腐手术！”
“人就是这样的，先生！他是继承人，得遗产的！目的达到了，哪还想到死人！”西卜女人这样说，因为她才替心爱的丈夫做过了防腐手术。
