第一百八十二章 第一卷——马吕斯贫困
马吕斯的生活变得艰难起来。吃光他的衣服和手表还算不了什么。他吃的是那种可怕而难以言状的东西，叫做"疯牛"——也就是说，他忍受着巨大的艰辛和贫困。这是一种可怕的事情，包含没有面包的日子，没有睡眠的夜晚，没有蜡烛的黄昏，没有火的炉膛，没有工作的星期，没有希望的未来，肘部磨破的外套，引得年轻姑娘发笑的旧帽子，因为付不起房租而在夜里被锁在门外的家门，门房和食品店老板的傲慢，邻居的嘲笑，屈辱，被践踏的尊严，任何性质的工作都得接受，厌恶、苦涩、沮丧。马吕斯学会了这一切是如何被"吞下"的，以及这些东西往往是一个人仅有的可啃噬之物。在他生命中的那个时刻——一个人需要自尊，因为他需要爱——他感到自己因衣衫褴褛而被嘲笑，因贫穷而显得可笑。在青春用帝王的骄傲膨胀心灵的年纪，他不止一次低头看着自己破旧的靴子，知道了不公正的羞耻和贫困带来的辛酸脸红。这是一场令人赞叹又可怕的考验，弱者从中变得卑劣，强者从中升华成崇高。命运将一个男人投入的熔炉，每当它想要一个恶棍或半神时。
因为许多伟大的事迹是在微小的搏斗中完成的。有被忽视而执拗的英勇事例，在需求和卑劣的致命冲击中步步为营。这些高尚而神秘的胜利，无人目睹，不受赞誉，没有号角声为其致敬。生活、不幸、孤独、被遗弃、贫困，是拥有自己英雄的战场；那些默默无闻的英雄，有时比赢得声望的英雄更伟大。
于是，坚定而稀有的本性就这样被创造出来；苦难，几乎总是一个继母，有时却是一个母亲；匮乏孕育出灵魂和精神的力量；困苦是骄傲的保姆；不幸是高贵者的优质乳汁。
在马吕斯的一生中，有过这样一个时刻：他清扫自己的楼梯间，在水果店买价值一个苏的布里奶酪，等到黄昏降临才溜进面包店买一个面包，然后像偷来的东西一样偷偷带回到他的阁楼里。有时可以看到一个笨拙的年轻人，腋下夹着大书，溜进街角的肉店，在那些推搡他的戏谑的厨娘中间，他神情既胆怯又愤怒，进门时从布满汗珠的额头上摘下帽子，向惊愕的老板娘深深鞠躬，要一块羊排，付上六七个苏，用纸包好，夹在两本书之间，然后离开。这就是马吕斯。这块羊排他自己煮着吃，能吃三天。
第一天他吃肉，第二天他吃肥肉，第三天他啃骨头。吉诺曼姑娘多次尝试，送了他好几次那六十皮斯托尔。马吕斯每次都把它们退回去，说他什么都不需要。
在他心中刚刚发生那场革命时，他仍然为父亲服丧。从那以后，他再也没有脱下黑衣服。但他的衣服正在离他而去。有一天，他不再有外套。裤子接下来也会消失。怎么办？古费拉克——马吕斯也曾为他做过一些好事——给了他一件旧外套。马吕斯花了三十苏，让某个门房之类的人把外套翻了个面，它就成了新外套。但这件外套是绿色的。于是马吕斯直到天黑后才出门。这使他的外套变成了黑色。因为他总想穿着丧服，他便用黑夜来装扮自己。
尽管如此，他还是获准执业成为律师。他据说住在古费拉克的房间里，那房间还算体面，里面有一定数量的法律书籍，加上几本破旧的浪漫小说，充当着章程要求的图书馆。他的信件都寄到古费拉克的住处。
当马吕斯成为律师时，他给外祖父写了一封信告知此事，信的语气冷淡但充满顺从与尊重。吉诺曼先生接过信时颤抖着，读完信，把它撕成四片，扔进了废纸篓。两三天后，吉诺曼小姐听到她父亲独自在房间里大声自言自语——每当极度激动时他总是这样。她侧耳倾听，老人说道："如果你不是个傻瓜，你就会知道一个人不能同时既是男爵又是律师。"
Life became hard for Marius. It was nothing to eat his clothes and his
watch. He ate of that terrible, inexpressible thing that is called _de
la vache enragé_; that is to say, he endured great hardships and
privations. A terrible thing it is, containing days without bread,
nights without sleep, evenings without a candle, a hearth without a
fire, weeks without work, a future without hope, a coat out at the
elbows, an old hat which evokes the laughter of young girls, a door
which one finds locked on one at night because one’s rent is not paid,
the insolence of the porter and the cook-shop man, the sneers of
neighbors, humiliations, dignity trampled on, work of whatever nature
accepted, disgusts, bitterness, despondency. Marius learned how all
this is eaten, and how such are often the only things which one has to
devour. At that moment of his existence when a man needs his pride,
because he needs love, he felt that he was jeered at because he was
badly dressed, and ridiculous because he was poor. At the age when
youth swells the heart with imperial pride, he dropped his eyes more
than once on his dilapidated boots, and he knew the unjust shame and
the poignant blushes of wretchedness. Admirable and terrible trial from
which the feeble emerge base, from which the strong emerge sublime. A
crucible into which destiny casts a man, whenever it desires a
scoundrel or a demi-god.
For many great deeds are performed in petty combats. There are
instances of bravery ignored and obstinate, which defend themselves
step by step in that fatal onslaught of necessities and turpitudes.
Noble and mysterious triumphs which no eye beholds, which are requited
with no renown, which are saluted with no trumpet blast. Life,
misfortune, isolation, abandonment, poverty, are the fields of battle
which have their heroes; obscure heroes, who are, sometimes, grander
than the heroes who win renown.
Firm and rare natures are thus created; misery, almost always a
step-mother, is sometimes a mother; destitution gives birth to might of
soul and spirit; distress is the nurse of pride; unhappiness is a good
milk for the magnanimous.
There came a moment in Marius’ life, when he swept his own landing,
when he bought his sou’s worth of Brie cheese at the fruiterer’s, when
he waited until twilight had fallen to slip into the baker’s and
purchase a loaf, which he carried off furtively to his attic as though
he had stolen it. Sometimes there could be seen gliding into the
butcher’s shop on the corner, in the midst of the bantering cooks who
elbowed him, an awkward young man, carrying big books under his arm,
who had a timid yet angry air, who, on entering, removed his hat from a
brow whereon stood drops of perspiration, made a profound bow to the
butcher’s astonished wife, asked for a mutton cutlet, paid six or seven
sous for it, wrapped it up in a paper, put it under his arm, between
two books, and went away. It was Marius. On this cutlet, which he
cooked for himself, he lived for three days.
On the first day he ate the meat, on the second he ate the fat, on the
third he gnawed the bone. Aunt Gillenormand made repeated attempts, and
sent him the sixty pistoles several times. Marius returned them on
every occasion, saying that he needed nothing.
He was still in mourning for his father when the revolution which we
have just described was effected within him. From that time forth, he
had not put off his black garments. But his garments were quitting him.
The day came when he had no longer a coat. The trousers would go next.
What was to be done? Courfeyrac, to whom he had, on his side, done some
good turns, gave him an old coat. For thirty sous, Marius got it turned
by some porter or other, and it was a new coat. But this coat was
green. Then Marius ceased to go out until after nightfall. This made
his coat black. As he wished always to appear in mourning, he clothed
himself with the night.
In spite of all this, he got admitted to practice as a lawyer. He was
supposed to live in Courfeyrac’s room, which was decent, and where a
certain number of law-books backed up and completed by several
dilapidated volumes of romance, passed as the library required by the
regulations. He had his letters addressed to Courfeyrac’s quarters.
When Marius became a lawyer, he informed his grandfather of the fact in
a letter which was cold but full of submission and respect. M.
Gillenormand trembled as he took the letter, read it, tore it in four
pieces, and threw it into the waste-basket. Two or three days later,
Mademoiselle Gillenormand heard her father, who was alone in his room,
talking aloud to himself. He always did this whenever he was greatly
agitated. She listened, and the old man was saying: “If you were not a
fool, you would know that one cannot be a baron and a lawyer at the
same time.”
