Editing Volume 2/Book 8/Chapter 6

Les Mis&eacute;rables, Volume 2: Cosette, Book Eighth: Cemeteries Take That Which is Committed Them, Chapter 6: Between Four Planks<br />
(Tome 2: Cosette, Livre huiti&egrave;me: Les cimeti&egrave;res prennent ce qu'on leur donne, Chapitre 6: Entre quatre planches)

==General notes on this chapter==

==French text==

 
Qui &eacute;tait dans la bi&egrave;re? on le sait. Jean Valjean.

 
Jean Valjean s'&eacute;tait arrang&eacute; pour vivre l&agrave; dedans, et il respirait &agrave; peu
pr&egrave;s.

 
C'est une chose &eacute;trange &agrave; quel point la s&eacute;curit&eacute; de la conscience donne
la s&eacute;curit&eacute; du reste. Toute la combinaison pr&eacute;m&eacute;dit&eacute;e par Jean Valjean
marchait, et marchait bien, depuis la veille. Il comptait, comme
Fauchelevent, sur le p&egrave;re Mestienne. Il ne doutait pas de la fin. Jamais
situation plus critique, jamais calme plus complet.

 
Les quatre planches du cercueil d&eacute;gagent une sorte de paix terrible. Il
semblait que quelque chose du repos des morts entr&acirc;t dans la
tranquillit&eacute; de Jean Valjean.

 
Du fond de cette bi&egrave;re, il avait pu suivre et il suivait toutes les
phases du drame redoutable qu'il jouait avec la mort.

 
Peu apr&egrave;s que Fauchelevent eut achev&eacute; de clouer la planche de dessus,
Jean Valjean s'&eacute;tait senti emporter, puis rouler. &Agrave; moins de secousses,
il avait senti qu'on passait du pav&eacute; &agrave; la terre battue, c'est-&agrave;-dire
qu'on quittait les rues et qu'on arrivait aux boulevards. &Agrave; un bruit
sourd, il avait devin&eacute; qu'on traversait le pont d'Austerlitz. Au premier
temps d'arr&ecirc;t, il avait compris qu'on entrait dans le cimeti&egrave;re; au
second temps d'arr&ecirc;t, il s'&eacute;tait dit: voici la fosse.

 
Brusquement il sentit que des mains saisissaient la bi&egrave;re, puis un
frottement rauque sur les planches; il se rendit compte que c'&eacute;tait une
corde qu'on nouait autour du cercueil pour le descendre dans
l'excavation.

 
Puis il eut une esp&egrave;ce d'&eacute;tourdissement.

 
Probablement les croque-morts et le fossoyeur avaient laiss&eacute; basculer le
cercueil et descendu la t&ecirc;te avant les pieds. Il revint pleinement &agrave; lui
en se sentant horizontal et immobile. Il venait de toucher le fond.

 
Il sentit un certain froid.

 
Une voix s'&eacute;leva au-dessus de lui, glaciale et solennelle. Il entendit
passer, si lentement qu'il pouvait les saisir l'un apr&egrave;s l'autre, des
mots latins qu'il ne comprenait pas:

 
&mdash;''Qui dormiunt in terrae pulvere, evigilabunt; alii in vitam aeternam,
et alii in opprobrium, ut videant semper''.

 
Une voix d'enfant dit:

 
&mdash;''De profundis''.

 
La voix grave recommen&ccedil;a:

 
&mdash;''Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine''.

 
La voix d'enfant r&eacute;pondit:

 
&mdash;''Et lux perpetua luceat ei''.

 
Il entendit sur la planche qui le recouvrait quelque chose comme le
frappement doux de quelques gouttes de pluie. C'&eacute;tait probablement l'eau
b&eacute;nite.

 
Il songea: Cela va &ecirc;tre fini. Encore un peu de patience. Le pr&ecirc;tre va
s'en aller. Fauchelevent emm&egrave;nera Mestienne boire. On me laissera. Puis
Fauchelevent reviendra seul, et je sortirai. Ce sera l'affaire d'une
bonne heure.

 
La voix grave reprit:

 
&mdash;''Requiescat in pace''.

 
Et la voix d'enfant dit:

 
&mdash;''Amen''.

 
Jean Valjean, l'oreille tendue, per&ccedil;ut quelque chose comme des pas qui
s'&eacute;loignaient.

 
&mdash;Les voil&agrave; qui s'en vont, pensa-t-il. Je suis seul.

 
Tout &agrave; coup il entendit sur sa t&ecirc;te un bruit qui lui sembla la chute du
tonnerre.

 
C'&eacute;tait une pellet&eacute;e de terre qui tombait sur le cercueil.

 
Une seconde pellet&eacute;e de terre tomba.

 
Un des trous par o&ugrave; il respirait venait de se boucher.

 
Une troisi&egrave;me pellet&eacute;e de terre tomba.

 
Puis une quatri&egrave;me.

 
Il est des choses plus fortes que l'homme le plus fort. Jean Valjean
perdit connaissance.

 
==English text==

Who was in the coffin? The reader knows. Jean Valjean.
     
Jean Valjean had arranged things so that he could exist there, and he
could almost breathe.

 
It is a strange thing to what a degree security of conscience confers
security of the rest. Every combination thought out by Jean Valjean had
been progressing, and progressing favorably, since the preceding day. He,
like Fauchelevent, counted on Father Mestienne. He had no doubt as to the
end. Never was there a more critical situation, never more complete
composure.

 
The four planks of the coffin breathe out a kind of terrible peace. It
seemed as though something of the repose of the dead entered into Jean
Valjean's tranquillity.

 
From the depths of that coffin he had been able to follow, and he had
followed, all the phases of the terrible drama which he was playing with
death.

 
Shortly after Fauchelevent had finished nailing on the upper plank, Jean
Valjean had felt himself carried out, then driven off. He knew, from the
diminution in the jolting, when they left the pavements and reached the
earth road. He had divined, from a dull noise, that they were crossing the
bridge of Austerlitz. At the first halt, he had understood that they were
entering the cemetery; at the second halt, he said to himself:&mdash;

 
"Here is the grave."

 
Suddenly, he felt hands seize the coffin, then a harsh grating against the
planks; he explained it to himself as the rope which was being fastened
round the casket in order to lower it into the cavity.

 
Then he experienced a giddiness.

 
The undertaker's man and the grave-digger had probably allowed the coffin
to lose its balance, and had lowered the head before the foot. He
recovered himself fully when he felt himself horizontal and motionless. He
had just touched the bottom.

 
He had a certain sensation of cold.

 
A voice rose above him, glacial and solemn. He heard Latin words, which he
did not understand, pass over him, so slowly that he was able to catch
them one by one:&mdash;

 
"Qui dormiunt in terrae pulvere, evigilabunt; alii in vitam aeternam, et
alii in approbrium, ut videant semper."

 
A child's voice said:&mdash;

 
"De profundis."

 
The grave voice began again:&mdash;

 
"Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine."

 
The child's voice responded:&mdash;

 
"Et lux perpetua luceat ei."

 
He heard something like the gentle patter of several drops of rain on the
plank which covered him. It was probably the holy water.

 
He thought: "This will be over soon now. Patience for a little while
longer. The priest will take his departure. Fauchelevent will take
Mestienne off to drink. I shall be left. Then Fauchelevent will return
alone, and I shall get out. That will be the work of a good hour."

 
The grave voice resumed

 
"Requiescat in pace."

 
And the child's voice said:&mdash;

 
"Amen."

 
Jean Valjean strained his ears, and heard something like retreating
footsteps.

 
"There, they are going now," thought he. "I am alone."

 
All at once, he heard over his head a sound which seemed to him to be a
clap of thunder.

 
It was a shovelful of earth falling on the coffin.

 
A second shovelful fell.

 
One of the holes through which he breathed had just been stopped up.

 
A third shovelful of earth fell.

 
Then a fourth.

 
There are things which are too strong for the strongest man. Jean Valjean
lost consciousness.


==Translation notes==

==Textual notes==

==Citations==
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