the hunchback of notre dame-第43章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　and　in　this　manner　presented　the　face　of　the　condemned　man　to　all　quarters　of　the　square　in　succession。　　This　was　what　was　called　〃turning〃　a　criminal。

As　the　reader　perceives；　the　pillory　of　the　Grève　was　far　from　presenting　all　the　recreations　of　the　pillory　of　the　Halles。　Nothing　architectural；　nothing　monumental。　　No　roof　to　the　iron　cross；　no　octagonal　lantern；　no　frail；　slender　columns　spreading　out　on　the　edge　of　the　roof　into　capitals　of　acanthus　leaves　and　flowers；　no　waterspouts　of　chimeras　and　monsters；　on　carved　woodwork；　no　fine　sculpture；　deeply　sunk　in　the　stone。

They　were　forced　to　content　themselves　with　those　four　stretches　of　rubble　work；　backed　with　sandstone；　and　a　wretched　stone　gibbet；　meagre　and　bare；　on　one　side。

The　entertainment　would　have　been　but　a　poor　one　for　lovers　of　Gothic　architecture。　　It　is　true　that　nothing　was　ever　less　curious　on　the　score　of　architecture　than　the　worthy　gapers　of　the　Middle　Ages；　and　that　they　cared　very　little　for　the　beauty　of　a　pillory。

The　victim　finally　arrived；　bound　to　the　tail　of　a　cart；　and　when　he　had　been　hoisted　upon　the　platform；　where　he　could　be　seen　from　all　points　of　the　Place；　bound　with　cords　and　straps　upon　the　wheel　of　the　pillory；　a　prodigious　hoot；　mingled　with　laughter　and　acclamations；　burst　forth　upon　the　Place。　　They　had　recognized　Quasimodo。

It　was　he；　in　fact。　　The　change　was　singular。　　Pilloried　on　the　very　place　where；　on　the　day　before；　he　had　been　saluted；　acclaimed；　and　proclaimed　Pope　and　Prince　of　Fools；　in　the　cortege　of　the　Duke　of　Egypt；　the　King　of　Thunes；　and　the　Emperor　of　Galilee！　　One　thing　is　certain；　and　that　is；　that　there　was　not　a　soul　in　the　crowd；　not　even　himself；　though　in　turn　triumphant　and　the　sufferer；　who　set　forth　this　combination　clearly　in　his　thought。　　Gringoire　and　his　philosophy　were　missing　at　this　spectacle。

Soon　Michel　Noiret；　sworn　trumpeter　to　the　king；　our　lord；　imposed　silence　on　the　louts；　and　proclaimed　the　sentence；　in　accordance　with　the　order　and　command　of　monsieur　the　provost。　Then　he　withdrew　behind　the　cart；　with　his　men　in　livery　surcoats。

Quasimodo；　impassible；　did　not　wince。　　All　resistance　had　been　rendered　impossible　to　him　by　what　was　then　called；　in　the　style　of　the　criminal　chancellery；　〃the　vehemence　and　firmness　of　the　bonds〃　which　means　that　the　thongs　and　chains　probably　cut　into　his　flesh；　moreover；　it　is　a　tradition　of　jail　and　wardens；　which　has　not　been　lost；　and　which　the　handcuffs　still　preciously　preserve　among　us；　a　civilized；　gentle；　humane　people　（the　galleys　and　the　guillotine　in　parentheses）。

He　had　allowed　himself　to　be　led；　pushed；　carried；　lifted；　bound；　and　bound　again。　　Nothing　was　to　be　seen　upon　his　countenance　but　the　astonishment　of　a　savage　or　an　idiot。　He　was　known　to　be　deaf；　one　might　have　pronounced　him　to　be　blind。

They　placed　him　on　his　knees　on　the　circular　plank；　he　made　no　resistance。　　They　removed　his　shirt　and　doublet　as　far　as　his　girdle；　he　allowed　them　to　have　their　way。　　They　entangled　him　under　a　fresh　system　of　thongs　and　buckles；　he　allowed　them　to　bind　and　buckle　him。　　Only　from　time　to　time　he　snorted　noisily；　like　a　calf　whose　head　is　hanging　and　bumping　over　the　edge　of　a　butcher's　cart。

〃The　dolt；〃　said　Jehan　Frollo　of　the　Mill；　to　his　friend　Robin　Poussepain　（for　the　two　students　had　followed　the　culprit；　as　was　to　have　been　expected）；　〃he　understands　no　more　than　a　cockchafer　shut　up　in　a　box！〃

There　was　wild　laughter　among　the　crowd　when　they　beheld　Quasimodo's　hump；　his　camel's　breast；　his　callous　and　hairy　shoulders　laid　bare。　　During　this　gayety；　a　man　in　the　livery　of　the　city；　short　of　stature　and　robust　of　mien；　mounted　the　platform　and　placed　himself　near　the　victim。　　His　name　speedily　circulated　among　the　spectators。　　It　was　Master　Pierrat　Torterue；　official　torturer　to　the　Chatelet。

He　began　by　depositing　on　an　angle　of　the　pillory　a　black　hour…glass；　the　upper　lobe　of　which　was　filled　with　red　sand；　which　it　allowed　to　glide　into　the　lower　receptacle；　then　he　removed　his　parti…colored　surtout；　and　there　became　visible；　suspended　from　his　right　hand；　a　thin　and　tapering　whip　of　long；　white；　shining；　knotted；　plaited　thongs；　armed　with　metal　nails。　　With　his　left　hand；　he　negligently　folded　back　his　shirt　around　his　right　arm；　to　the　very　armpit。

In　the　meantime；　Jehan　Frollo；　elevating　his　curly　blonde　head　above　the　crowd　（he　had　mounted　upon　the　shoulders　of　Robin　Poussepain　for　the　purpose）；　shouted：　〃Come　and　look；　gentle　ladies　and　men！　they　are　going　to　peremptorily　flagellate　Master　Quasimodo；　the　bellringer　of　my　brother；　monsieur　the　archdeacon　of　Josas；　a　knave　of　oriental　architecture；　who　has　a　back　like　a　dome；　and　legs　like　twisted　columns！〃

And　the　crowd　burst　into　a　laugh；　especially　the　boys　and　young　girls。

At　length　the　torturer　stamped　his　foot。　　The　wheel　began　to　turn。　　Quasimodo　wavered　beneath　his　bonds。　　The　amazement　which　was　suddenly　depicted　upon　his　deformed　face　caused　the　bursts　of　laughter　to　redouble　around　him。

All　at　once；　at　the　moment　when　the　wheel　in　its　revolution　presented　to　Master　Pierrat；　the　humped　back　of　Quasimodo；　Master　Pierrat　raised　his　arm；　the　fine　thongs　whistled　sharply　through　the　air；　like　a　handful　of　adders；　and　fell　with　fury　upon　the　wretch's　shoulders。

Quasimodo　leaped　as　though　awakened　with　a　start。　　He　began　to　understand。　　He　writhed　in　his　bonds；　a　violent　contraction　of　surprise　and　pain　distorted　the　muscles　of　his　face；　but　he　uttered　not　a　single　sigh。　　He　merely　turned　his　head　backward；　to　the　right；　then　to　the　left；　balancing　it　as　a　bull　does　who　has　been　stung　in　the　flanks　by　a　gadfly。

A　second　blow　followed　the　first；　then　a　third；　and　another　and　another；　and　still　others。　　The　wheel　did　not　cease　to　turn；　nor　the　blows　to　rain　down。

Soon　the　blood　burst　forth；　and　could　be　seen　trickling　in　a　thousand　threads　down　the　hunchback's　black　shoulders；　and　the　slender　thongs；　in　their　rotatory　motion　which　rent　the　air；　sprinkled　drops　of　it　upon　the　crowd。

Quasimodo　had　resumed；　to　all　appearance；　his　first　imperturbability。　　He　had　at　first　tried；　in　a　quiet　way　and　without　much　outward　movement；　to　break　his　bonds。　　His　eye　had　been　seen　to　light　up；　his　muscles　to　stiffen；　his　members　to　concentrate　their　force；　and　the　straps　to　stretch。　　The　effort　was　powerful；　prodigious；　desperate；　but　the　provost's　seasoned　bonds　resisted。　　They　cracked；　and　that　was　all。　　Quasimodo　fell　back　exhausted。　　Amazement　gave　way；　on　his　features；　to　a　sentiment　of　profound　and　bitter　discouragement。　　He　closed　his　single　eye；　allowed　his　head　to　droop　upon　his　breast；　and　feigned　death。

From　that　moment　forth；　he　stirred　no　more。　　Nothing　could　force　a　movement　from　him。　　Neither　his　blood；　which　did　not　cease　to　flow；　nor　the　blows　which　redoubled　in　fury；　nor　the　wrath　of　the　torturer；　who　grew　excited　himself　and　intoxicated　with　the　execution；　nor　the　sound　of　the　horrible　thongs；　more　sharp　and　whistling　than　the　claws　of　scorpions。

At　length　a　bailiff　from　the　Chatelet　clad　in　black；　mounted　on　a　black　horse；　who　had　been　stationed　beside　the　ladder　since　the　beginning　of　the　execution；　extended　his　ebony　wand　towards　the　hour…glass。　　The　torturer　stopped。　　The　wheel　stopped。　　Quasimodo's　eye　opened　slowly。

The　scourging　was　finished。　　Two　lackeys　of　the　official　torturer　bathed　the　bleeding　shoulders　of　the　patient；　anointed　them　with　some　unguent　which　immediately　closed　all　the　wounds；　and　threw　upon　his　back　a　sort　of　yellow　vestment；　in　cut　like　a　chasuble。　　In　the　meanwhile；　Pierrat　Torterue　allowed　the　thongs；　red　and　gorged　with　blood；　to　drip　upon　the　pavement。

All　was　not　over　for　Quasimodo。　　He　had　still　to　undergo　that　hour　of　pillory　which　Master　Florian　Barbedienne　had　so　judiciously　added　to　the　sentence　of　Messire　Robert　d'Estouteville；　all　to　the　greater　glory　of　the　old　physiological　and　psychological　play　upon　words　of　Jean　de　Cumène；　~Surdus　absurdus~：　a　deaf　man　is　absurd。

So　the　hour…glass　was　turned　over　once　more；　and　they　left　the　hunchback　fastened　to　the　plank；　in　order　that　justice　might　be　accomplished　to　the　very　end。

The　populace；　especially　in　the　Middle　Ages；　is　in　society　what　the　child　is　in　the　family。　　As　long　as　it　remains　in　its　state　of　primitive　ignorance；　of　moral　and　intellectual　minority；　it　can　be　said　of　it　as　of　the　child；


　　　'Tis　the　pitiless　age。


We　have　already　shown　that　Quasimodo　was　generally　hated；　for　more　than　one　good　reason；　it　is　true。　　There　was　hardly　a　spectator　in　that　crowd　who　had　not　or　who　did　not　believe　that　he　had　reason　to　complain　of　the　malevolent　hunchback　of　Notre…Dame。　　The　joy　at　seeing　him　appear　thus　in　the　pillory　had　been　universal；　and　the　harsh　punishment　which　he　had　just　suffered；　and　the　pitiful　condition　in　which　it　had　left　him；　far　from　softening　the　populace　had　rendered　its　hatred　more　malicious　by　arming　it　with　a　touch　of　mirth。

Hence；　the　〃public　prosecution〃　satisfied；　as　the　bigwigs　of　the　law　still　express　it　in　their　jargon；　the　turn　came　of　a　thousand　private　vengeances。　　Here；　as　in　the　Grand　Hall；　the　women　rendered　themselves　particularly　prominent。　　All　cherished　some　rancor　against　him；　some　for　his　malice；　others　for　his　ugliness。　　The　latter　were　the　most　furious。

〃Oh！　mask　of　Antichrist！〃　said　one。

〃Rider　on　a　broom　handle！〃　cried　another。

〃What　a　fine　tragic　grimace；〃　howled　a　third；　〃and　who　would　make　him　Pope　of　the　Fools　if　to…day　were　yesterday？〃

〃'Tis　well；〃　struck　in　an　old　woman。　　〃This　is　the　grimace　of　the　pillory。　　When　shall　we　have　that　of　the　gibbet？〃

〃When　will　you　be　coiffed　with　your　big　bell　a　hundred　feet　under　ground；　cursed　bellringer？〃

〃But　'tis　the　devil　who　rings　the　Angelus！〃

〃Oh！　the　deaf　man！　the　one…eyed　creature！　the　hunch…　back！　the　monster！〃

〃A　face　to　make　a　woman　miscarry　better　than　all　the　drugs　and　medicines！〃

And　the　two　scholars；　Jehan　du　Moulin；　and　Robin　Poussepain；　sang　at　the　top　of　their　lungs；　the　ancient　refrain；


　　　〃~Une　hart　　　　Pour　le　pendard！　　　　Un　fagot　　　　Pour　le　magot~！〃*


*　　A　rope　for　the　gallows　bird！　　A　fagot　for　the　ape。


A　thousand　other　insults　rained　down　upon　him；　and　hoots　and　imprecations；　and　laughter；　and　now　and　then；　stones。

Quasimodo　was　deaf　but　his　sight　was　clear；　and　the　public　fury　was　no　less　energetically　depicted　on　their　visages　than　in　their　words。　　Moreover；　the　blows　from　the　stones　explained　the　bursts　of　laughter。

At　first　he　held　his　ground。　　But　little　by　little　that　patience　which　had　borne　up　under　the　lash　of　the　torturer；　yielded　and　gave　way　before　all　these　stings　of　insects。　　The　bull　of　the　Asturias　who　has　been　but　little　moved　by　the　attacks　of　the　picador　grows　irritated　with　the　dogs　and　banderilleras。

He　first　cast　around　a　slow　glance　of　hatred　upon　the　crowd。　But　bound　as　he　was；　his　glance　was　powerless　to　drive　away　those　flies　which　were　stinging　his　wound。　　Then　he　moved　in　his　bonds；　and　his　furious　exertions　made　the　ancient　wheel　of　the　pillory　shriek　on　its　axle。　　All　this　only　increased　the　derision　and　hooting。

Then　the　wretched　man；　unable　to　break　his　collar；　like　that　of　a　chained　wild　beast；　became　tranquil　once　mor