第一百八十三章 二 马吕斯穷愁潦倒
对贫穷也和对其他一切事物一样，可说是习惯成自然。穷到一定限度，生活形式便逐渐固定下来，每天都是那种干巴巴的过日子方式。马吕斯•彭眉胥的生活就这样安排定了。
他这时已经走出了那最窄的关口，可是困难还在眼前，并且还多着呢。他每年大约有七百法郎的收入，可以维持生活。他学会了德文和英文，靠了库费拉克的介绍，把他和那位开书店的朋友联系起来，马吕斯在那家书店里充当那种文学杂活，做些编写书稿介绍、翻译报刊资料、注释出版品、编纂人物志等等的勤杂工作，不论年份旺淡，净工资可得七百法郎。他靠它生活。生活得怎样呢？不怎么坏。我们说说清楚。
在这三十法郎租金的破屋里，马吕斯住的很窄，但也只有一些绝对少不了的家具。家具是马吕斯的。他每月付三法郎给那个做二房东的老妇人，让她来替他打扫房间，并每天早晨给他送一点热水，一个鲜蛋和一个面包。那蛋和面包就是他的早饭。午饭和晚饭，便到街上吃。花两个苏到四个苏，随他当天的意思，吃顿肉或鱼，再不就吃个羊头，也当作一餐。晚间他到圣雅克广场的公共图书馆去，每晚花一个苏的灯油费，伏案阅读，并从事写作。这样一直搞到关门。他每星期在那间破屋里工作几夜，但常常连木柴也得关门。他每月只有三十个苏的文具书籍纸张等杂用。他洗衣物，自己到洗衣坊取送。他穿的是粗布衬衫，每天出去要扣上礼服，一直扣到领口。除了一日三餐外，他几乎断了一切花费。其实他每月只花二十法郎的伙食费，一年二百四十法郎。再加五十法郎房租，三十法郎灯火和仆费，洗衣费六十法郎，另加一些杂用，一年共四百五十法郎，他手中的六百法郎刚够开销。有时还余一点，他便算富裕了①。
①一八二五年前后，巴黎一个七十法郎的季度租金，是不错的房子了。那时膳宿费很少超过四十五法郎，工人一年花三百法郎，就能在圣安东尼郊区住上称心的房屋，并有一大家人口呢。——原注
有时他还能借十法郎给库费拉克。有一次库费拉克竟能从他那里借到六十法郎。至于取暖费，马吕斯因为没壁炉，便“简化了。”
马吕斯经常有两套礼服，一套旧的，作日常便服，一套新的，作特殊场合用。两套全是黑色的。他只有三件衬衫，一件在身上，一件在衣柜里，一件在洗衣婆那里。他随着衣服磨损的程度加以补充。他经常是破衣烂衫，但总是整洁的。
他经历过艰苦的岁月。他受过冻，没有生过火。他没有挨过饿，但常有吃不上饭的时候。吃不上，他便凑合过去，他什么都吃过了。有一回他吃了顿晚饭，连汤也没有，就对着空汤盆微笑。他还曾向女友斐利回礼致敬。
即使如此，他仍然是平静的。他没有任何过高的奢望。这种平静是他良心里的清高思想所赐予他的。他的内心是庄严的。他没有衣服穿，但灵魂却盛装华服。不过贫困也使他背上不少债务。有时他辛苦得来的几个钱，一旦用完，他便觉得走投无路，只得节食减餐。他整天不停地干，累得精疲力竭，这样便能忘掉日常的忧虑，他感到这是年轻人的一种作为。他在心里对自己说：“怕什么！只要我不向任何人低头，一切都会过去。”
他对苦难有一种自尊心，不少东西他都忍住了，但决不伸手去乞讨。他每天总像发狂一样地工作。每逢他领到工资，总是像赢了一场赌博那样雀跃。假使他有个情妇，他也许会再神气些，但他的心是圣洁的，斋戒和禁欲已经安之如饴。
他在日常生活中总是心不在焉，不知东南西北的。有一天，他穿了一套礼服，背朝圣雅克广场，走过一道栅栏前，看见一个年轻女工带着一个小孩，他连忙让开，还把身上仅有的一块值钱东西——他那把不曾离过身的象牙折刀，悄悄地塞在小孩子的手里。他每月到收房租的日子便准时交钱给那当二房东的老妇人，那老妇人，他叫她做“妈”，他也常把几个苏给她，叫她去替他打水时顺便打些药料来，替他那条破伤的腿洗洗。
他常说：“这是给老母亲的小费。”
马吕斯一文不欠，从不赖账。这种精神在穷苦中也确实是难能可贵的。他从不向人借钱。库费拉克时常对他说：“你有点过于自信！”马吕斯回答说：“我哪里是自信，我不过是这样想：从我来说，我借了人家的钱，便欠下了一笔债。”马吕斯脸上总是罩着一层感伤的神情，有时还带点严肃的意味，因此，那种神情更使他显得和蔼可亲了。
总之，在旁人眼里，他比谁都怪僻些，其实他还是个纯朴孩子。他看上去是个温柔、胆怯、冷淡的人。他形状瘦削，嘴阔，头大，眼睛深，没有动人的风采。他有一种沉静憨厚的神气，像头野牛。他不大注意旁人，旁人也便不注意他。
除他父亲的名字外，马吕斯的心里还有个名字，那便是德纳第。由于他天性严肃，他不免认为那个舍生救他父亲的德纳第，在炮弹纷飞的战场上救了他父亲的性命的恩人，对他马吕斯来说，也是一个大恩人。他从不忘记这恩情，直到现在，当他那么深切地爱着他父亲时，他不能不爱德纳第。他暗下决心，他将来只要一有可能，便要不惜一切，对那高尚的德纳第表示感激。他认为德纳第是他在人世上最爱戴的人之一，他父亲是第二位的。他多么渴望能在富裕的时候遇见德纳第，好让他报答恩情于万一呵！他多方打听恩人的下落，但一直没有找到。
马吕斯一直过着贫穷的生活。就在这赤贫的生活里，他常常静悄悄地为那位当年的德纳第做着许多事，他称他做德纳第“队长”。那不幸的客店老板确实已经破产，下落不明。马吕斯曾打听到他住在舍尔、蓬迪、格内、拉尼等处，便到那些地方寻找，但都找不到。据说他跑到国外去了。他的债主们也找过他，但爱慕之情倒不如马吕斯那么深，他们没能抓住他。马吕斯责备自己，怪自己没能找到德纳第。他说：“我父亲躺在战场上的时候，是他把我父亲背回来的，他对我父亲是有恩的，而我对他却束手无策。呵！我一定要找到他！”为了找到德纳第，马吕斯真可以舍掉一条胳膊，为了把他救出苦难，他更可以献出自己的鲜血。他常想，他一定能找到德纳第，他一定要把德纳第从苦海中救出来。他常想着，怎样才能报答这样一位义士的恩情。他常回忆他的父亲是怎样在滑铁卢战场上对德纳第感恩戴德的，马吕斯觉得对德纳第无论怎样报答，都不为过分。
It is the same with wretchedness as with everything else. It ends by
becoming bearable. It finally assumes a form, and adjusts itself. One
vegetates, that is to say, one develops in a certain meagre fashion,
which is, however, sufficient for life. This is the mode in which the
existence of Marius Pontmercy was arranged:
He had passed the worst straits; the narrow pass was opening out a
little in front of him. By dint of toil, perseverance, courage, and
will, he had managed to draw from his work about seven hundred francs a
year. He had learned German and English; thanks to Courfeyrac, who had
put him in communication with his friend the publisher, Marius filled
the modest post of utility man in the literature of the publishing
house. He drew up prospectuses, translated newspapers, annotated
editions, compiled biographies, etc.; net product, year in and year
out, seven hundred francs. He lived on it. How? Not so badly. We will
explain.
Marius occupied in the Gorbeau house, for an annual sum of thirty
francs, a den minus a fireplace, called a cabinet, which contained only
the most indispensable articles of furniture. This furniture belonged
to him. He gave three francs a month to the old _principal tenant_ to
come and sweep his hole, and to bring him a little hot water every
morning, a fresh egg, and a penny roll. He breakfasted on this egg and
roll. His breakfast varied in cost from two to four sous, according as
eggs were dear or cheap. At six o’clock in the evening he descended the
Rue Saint-Jacques to dine at Rousseau’s, opposite Basset’s, the
stamp-dealer’s, on the corner of the Rue des Mathurins. He ate no soup.
He took a six-sou plate of meat, a half-portion of vegetables for three
sous, and a three-sou dessert. For three sous he got as much bread as
he wished. As for wine, he drank water. When he paid at the desk where
Madam Rousseau, at that period still plump and rosy majestically
presided, he gave a sou to the waiter, and Madam Rousseau gave him a
smile. Then he went away. For sixteen sous he had a smile and a dinner.
This Restaurant Rousseau, where so few bottles and so many water
carafes were emptied, was a calming potion rather than a restaurant. It
no longer exists. The proprietor had a fine nickname: he was called
_Rousseau the Aquatic_.
Thus, breakfast four sous, dinner sixteen sous; his food cost him
twenty sous a day; which made three hundred and sixty-five francs a
year. Add the thirty francs for rent, and the thirty-six francs to the
old woman, plus a few trifling expenses; for four hundred and fifty
francs, Marius was fed, lodged, and waited on. His clothing cost him a
hundred francs, his linen fifty francs, his washing fifty francs; the
whole did not exceed six hundred and fifty francs. He was rich. He
sometimes lent ten francs to a friend. Courfeyrac had once been able to
borrow sixty francs of him. As far as fire was concerned, as Marius had
no fireplace, he had “simplified matters.”
Marius always had two complete suits of clothes, the one old, “for
every day”; the other, brand new for special occasions. Both were
black. He had but three shirts, one on his person, the second in the
commode, and the third in the washerwoman’s hands. He renewed them as
they wore out. They were always ragged, which caused him to button his
coat to the chin.
