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an inland voyage-第28部分
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ain; and they had to sweep away their baggage as fast as possible; and make off to the barn where they harboured; cold; wet; and supperless。 In the morning; a dear friend of mine; who has as warm a heart for strollers as I have myself; made a little collection; and sent it by my hands to comfort them for their disappointment。 I gave it to the father; he thanked me cordially; and we drank a cup together in the kitchen; talking of roads; and audiences; and hard times。
When I was going; up got my old stroller; and off with his hat。 'I am afraid;' said he; 'that Monsieur will think me altogether a beggar; but I have another demand to make upon him。' I began to hate him on the spot。 'We play again to…night;' he went on。 'Of course; I shall refuse to accept any more money from Monsieur and his friends; who have been already so liberal。 But our programme of to…night is something truly creditable; and I cling to the idea that Monsieur will honour us with his presence。' And then; with a shrug and a smile: 'Monsieur understands … the vanity of an artist!' Save the mark! The vanity of an artist! That is the kind of thing that reconciles me to life: a ragged; tippling; incompetent old rogue; with the manners of a gentleman; and the vanity of an artist; to keep up his self…respect!
But the man after my own heart is M。 de Vauversin。 It is nearly two years since I saw him first; and indeed I hope I may see him often again。 Here is his first programme; as I found it on the breakfast…table; and have kept it ever since as a relic of bright days:
'MESDAMES ET MESSIEURS;
'MADEMOISELLE FERRARIO ET M。 DE VAUVERSIN AURONT L'HONNEUR DE CHANTER CE SOIR LES MORCEAUX SUIVANTS。
'MADERMOISELLE FERRARIO CHANTERA … MIGNON … OISEAUX LEGERS … FRANCE … DES FRANCAIS DORMENT LA … LE CHATEAU BLEU … OU VOULEZ…VOUS ALLER?
'M。 DE VAUVERSIN … MADAME FONTAINE ET M。 ROBINET … LES PLONGEURS A CHEVAL … LE MARI MECONTENT … TAIS…TOI; GAMIN … MON VOISIN L'ORIGINAL … HEUREUX COMME CA … COMME ON EST TROMPE。'
They made a stage at one end of the SALLE…A…MANGER。 And what a sight it was to see M。 de Vauversin; with a cigarette in his mouth; twanging a guitar; and following Mademoiselle Ferrario's eyes with the obedient; kindly look of a dog! The entertainment wound up with a tombola; or auction of lottery tickets: an admirable amusement; with all the excitement of gambling; and no hope of gain to make you ashamed of your eagerness; for there; all is loss; you make haste to be out of pocket; it is a competition who shall lose most money for the benefit of M。 de Vauversin and Mademoiselle Ferrario。
M。 de Vauversin is a small man; with a great head of black hair; a vivacious and engaging air; and a smile that would be delightful if he had better teeth。 He was once an actor in the Chatelet; but he contracted a nervous affection from the heat and glare of the footlights; which unfitted him for the stage。 At this crisis Mademoiselle Ferrario; otherwise Mademoiselle Rita of the Alcazar; agreed to share his wandering fortunes。 'I could never forget the generosity of that lady;' said he。 He wears trousers so tight that it has long been a problem to all who knew him how he manages to get in and out of them。 He sketches a little in water…colours; he writes verses; he is the most patient of fishermen; and spent long days at the bottom of the inn…garden fruitlessly dabbling a line in the clear river。
You should hear him recounting his experiences over a bottle of wine; such a pleasant vein of talk as he has; with a ready smile at his own mishaps; and every now and then a sudden gravity; like a man who should hear the surf roar while he was telling the perils of the deep。 For it was no longer ago than last night; perhaps; that the receipts only amounted to a franc and a half; to cover three francs of railway fare and two of board and lodging。 The Maire; a man worth a million of money; sat in the front seat; repeatedly applauding Mlle。 Ferrario; and yet gave no more than three SOUS the whole evening。 Local authorities look with such an evil eye upon the strolling artist。 Alas! I know it well; who have been myself taken for one; and pitilessly incarcerated on the strength of the misapprehension。 Once; M。 de Vauversin visited a commissary of police for permission to sing。 The commissary; who was smoking at his ease; politely doffed his hat upon the singer's entrance。 'Mr。 Commissary;' he began; 'I am an artist。' And on went the commissary's hat again。 No courtesy for the companions of Apollo! 'They are as degraded as that;' said M。 de Vauversin with a sweep of his cigarette。
But what pleased me most was one outbreak of his; when we had been talking all the evening of the rubs; indignities; and pinchings of his wandering life。 Some one said; it would be better to have a million of money down; and Mlle。 Ferrario admitted that she would prefer that mightily。 'EH BIEN; MOI NON; … not I;' cried De Vauversin; striking the table with his hand。 'If any one is a failure in the world; is it not I? I had an art; in which I have done things well … as well as some … better perhaps than others; and now it is closed against me。 I must go about the country gathering coppers and singing nonsense。 Do you think I regret my life? Do you think I would rather be a fat burgess; like a calf? Not I! I have had moments when I have been applauded on the boards: I think nothing of that; but I have known in my own mind sometimes; when I had not a clap from the whole house; that I had found a true intonation; or an exact and speaking gesture; and then; messieurs; I have known what pleasure was; what it was to do a thing well; what it was to be an artist。 And to know what art is; is to have an interest for ever; such as no burgess can find in his petty concerns。 TENEZ; MESSIEURS; JE VAIS VOUS LE DIRE … it is like a religion。'
Such; making some allowance for the tricks of memory and the inaccuracies of translation; was the profession of faith of M。 de Vauversin。 I have given him his own name; lest any other wanderer should come across him; with his guitar and cigarette; and Mademoiselle Ferrario; for should not all the world delight to honour this unfortunate and loyal follower of the Muses? May Apollo send him rimes hitherto undreamed of; may the river be no longer scanty of her silver fishes to his lure; may the cold not pinch him on long winter rides; nor the village jack…in…office affront him with unseemly manners; and may he never miss Mademoiselle Ferrario from his side; to follow with his dutiful eyes and accompany on the guitar!
The marionnettes made a very dismal entertainment。 They performed a piece; called PYRAMUS AND THISBE; in five mortal acts; and all written in Alexandrines fully as long as the performers。 One marionnette was the king; another the wicked counsellor; a third; credited with exceptional beauty; represented Thisbe; and then there were guards; and obdurate fathers; and walking gentlemen。 Nothing particular took place during the two or three acts that I sat out; but you will he pleased to learn that the unities were
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