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XXiLJJ <a href="http://fzxrulnnsjmm.com/">fzxrulnnsjmm</a>, [url=http://crsnqxdntokc.com/]crsnqxdntokc[/url], [link=http://uzpjafduafdz.com/]uzpjafduafdz[/link], http://tgiwfwgphldr.com/
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Les Mis&eacute;rables, Volume 4: The Idyll of the Rue Plumet & The Epic of the Rue Saint-Denis, Book Eleventh: The Atom Fraternizes with the Hurricane, Chapter 2: Gavroche on the March<br />
 +
(Tome 4: L'idylle rue Plumet et l'&eacute;pop&eacute;e rue Saint-Denis, Livre onzi&egrave;me: L'atome fraternise avec l'ouragan, Chapitre 2: Gavroche en marche)
 +
 
 +
==General notes on this chapter==
 +
 
 +
==French text==
 +
 
 +
 +
L'agitation d'un pistolet sans chien qu'on tient &agrave; la main en pleine rue
 +
est une telle fonction publique que Gavroche sentait cro&icirc;tre sa verve &agrave;
 +
chaque pas. Il criait, parmi des bribes de la Marseillaise qu'il
 +
chantait:
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Tout va bien. Je souffre beaucoup de la patte gauche, je me suis cass&eacute;
 +
mon rhumatisme, mais je suis content, citoyens. Les bourgeois n'ont qu'&agrave;
 +
se bien tenir, je vas leur &eacute;ternuer des couplets subversifs. Qu'est-ce
 +
que c'est que les mouchards? c'est des chiens. Nom d'unch! ne manquons
 +
pas de respect aux chiens. Avec &ccedil;a que je voudrais bien en avoir un &agrave;
 +
mon pistolet. Je viens du boulevard, mes amis, &ccedil;a chauffe, &ccedil;a jette un
 +
petit bouillon, &ccedil;a mijote. Il est temps d'&eacute;cumer le pot. En avant les
 +
hommes! qu'un sang impur inonde les sillons! Je donne mes jours pour la
 +
patrie, je ne reverrai plus ma concubine, n-i-ni, fini, oui, Nini! mais
 +
c'est &eacute;gal, vive la joie! Battons-nous, crebleu! j'en ai assez du
 +
despotisme.
 +
 
 +
 +
En cet instant, le cheval d'un garde national lancier qui passait
 +
s'&eacute;tant abattu, Gavroche posa son pistolet sur le pav&eacute;, et releva
 +
l'homme, puis il aida &agrave; relever le cheval. Apr&egrave;s quoi il ramassa son
 +
pistolet et reprit son chemin.
 +
 
 +
 +
Rue de Thorigny, tout &eacute;tait paix et silence. Cette apathie, propre au
 +
Marais, contrastait avec la vaste rumeur environnante. Quatre comm&egrave;res
 +
causaient sur le pas d'une porte. L'&Eacute;cosse a des trios de sorci&egrave;res,
 +
mais Paris a des quatuor de comm&egrave;res; et le &laquo;tu seras roi&raquo; serait tout
 +
aussi lugubrement jet&eacute; &agrave; Bonaparte dans le carrefour Baudoyer qu'&agrave;
 +
Macbeth dans la bruy&egrave;re d'Armuyr. Ce serait &agrave; peu pr&egrave;s le m&ecirc;me
 +
croassement.
 +
 
 +
 +
Les comm&egrave;res de la rue de Thorigny ne s'occupaient que de leurs
 +
affaires. C'&eacute;taient trois porti&egrave;res et une chiffonni&egrave;re avec sa hotte et
 +
son crochet.
 +
 
 +
 +
Elles semblaient debout toutes les quatre aux quatre coins de la
 +
vieillesse qui sont la caducit&eacute;, la d&eacute;cr&eacute;pitude, la ruine et la
 +
tristesse.
 +
 
 +
 +
La chiffonni&egrave;re &eacute;tait humble. Dans ce monde en plein vent, la
 +
chiffonni&egrave;re salue, la porti&egrave;re prot&egrave;ge. Cela tient au coin de la borne
 +
qui est ce que veulent les concierges, gras ou maigre, selon la
 +
fantaisie de celui qui fait le tas. Il peut y avoir de la bont&eacute; dans le
 +
balai.
 +
 
 +
 +
Cette chiffonni&egrave;re &eacute;tait une hotte reconnaissante, et elle souriait,
 +
quel sourire! aux trois porti&egrave;res. Il se disait des choses comme ceci:
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Ah &ccedil;&agrave;, votre chat est donc toujours m&eacute;chant?
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Mon Dieu, les chats, vous le savez, naturellement sont l'ennemi des
 +
chiens. C'est les chiens qui se plaignent.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Et le monde aussi.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Pourtant les puces de chat ne vont pas apr&egrave;s le monde.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Ce n'est pas l'embarras, les chiens, c'est dangereux. Je me rappelle
 +
une ann&eacute;e o&ugrave; il y avait tant de chiens qu'on a &eacute;t&eacute; oblig&eacute; de le mettre
 +
dans les journaux. C'&eacute;tait du temps qu'il y avait aux Tuileries de
 +
grands moutons qui tra&icirc;naient la petite voiture du roi de Rome. Vous
 +
rappelez-vous le roi de Rome?
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Moi, j'aimais bien le duc de Bordeaux.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Moi, j'ai connu Louis XVII. J'aime mieux Louis XVII.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;C'est la viande qui est ch&egrave;re, mame Patagon!
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Ah! ne m'en parlez pas, la boucherie est une horreur. Une horreur
 +
horrible. On n'a plus que de la r&eacute;jouissance.
 +
 
 +
 +
Ici la chiffonni&egrave;re intervint:
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Mesdames, le commerce ne va pas. Les tas d'ordures sont minables. On
 +
ne jette plus rien. On mange tout.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Il y en a de plus pauvres que vous, la Vargoul&ecirc;me.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Ah, &Ccedil;a C'est vrai, r&eacute;pondit la chiffonni&egrave;re avec d&eacute;f&eacute;rence, moi j'ai
 +
un &eacute;tat.
 +
 
 +
 +
Il y eut une pause, et la chiffonni&egrave;re, c&eacute;dant &agrave; ce besoin d'&eacute;talage qui
 +
est le fond de l'homme, ajouta:
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Le matin en rentrant, j'&eacute;pluche l'hotte, je fais mon treillage
 +
(probablement triage). &Ccedil;a fait des tas dans ma chambre. Je mets les
 +
chiffons dans un panier, les trognons dans un baquet, les linges dans
 +
mon placard, les lainages dans ma commode, les vieux papiers dans le
 +
coin de la fen&ecirc;tre, les choses bonnes &agrave; manger dans mon &eacute;cuelle, les
 +
morceaux de verre dans la chemin&eacute;e, les savates derri&egrave;re la porte, et
 +
les os sous mon lit.
 +
 
 +
 +
Gavroche, arr&ecirc;t&eacute; derri&egrave;re, &eacute;coutait:
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Les vieilles, dit-il, qu'est-ce que vous avez donc &agrave; parler politique?
 +
 
 +
 +
Une bord&eacute;e l'assaillit, compos&eacute;e d'une hu&eacute;e quadruple.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;En voil&agrave; encore un sc&eacute;l&eacute;rat!
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Qu'est-ce qu'il a donc &agrave; son moignon? Un pistolet?
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Je vous demande un peu, ce gueux de m&ocirc;me!
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;&Ccedil;a n'est pas tranquille si &ccedil;a ne renverse pas l'autorit&eacute;.
 +
 
 +
 +
Gavroche, d&eacute;daigneux, se borna, pour toute repr&eacute;saille, &agrave; soulever le
 +
bout de son nez avec son pouce en ouvrant sa main toute grande.
 +
 
 +
 +
La chiffonni&egrave;re cria:
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;M&eacute;chant va-nu-pattes!
 +
 
 +
 +
Celle qui r&eacute;pondait au nom de mame Patagon frappa ses deux mains l'une
 +
contre l'autre avec scandale:
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Il va y avoir des malheurs, c'est s&ucirc;r. Le galopin d'&agrave; c&ocirc;t&eacute; qui a une
 +
barbiche, je le voyais passer tous les matins avec une jeunesse en
 +
bonnet rose sous le bras, aujourd'hui je l'ai vu passer, il donnait le
 +
bras &agrave; un fusil. Mame Bacheux dit qu'il y a eu la semaine pass&eacute;e une
 +
r&eacute;volution &agrave;... &agrave;... &agrave;...&mdash;o&ugrave; est le veau!&mdash;&agrave; Pontoise. Et puis le
 +
voyez-vous l&agrave; avec un pistolet, cette horreur de polisson! Il para&icirc;t
 +
qu'il y a des canons tout plein les C&eacute;lestins. Comment voulez-vous que
 +
fasse le gouvernement avec des garnements qui ne savent qu'inventer pour
 +
d&eacute;ranger le monde, quand on commen&ccedil;ait &agrave; &ecirc;tre un peu tranquille apr&egrave;s
 +
tous les malheurs qu'il y a eu, bon Dieu Seigneur, cette pauvre reine
 +
que j'ai vue passer dans la charrette! Et tout &ccedil;a va encore faire
 +
rench&eacute;rir le tabac. C'est une infamie! Et certainement, j'irai te voir
 +
guillotiner, malfaiteur!
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Tu renifles, mon ancienne, dit Gavroche. Mouche ton promontoire.
 +
 
 +
 +
Et il passa outre.
 +
 
 +
 +
Quand il fut rue Pav&eacute;e, la chiffonni&egrave;re lui revint &agrave; l'esprit, et il eut
 +
ce soliloque:
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Tu as tort d'insulter les r&eacute;volutionnaires, m&egrave;re Coin-de-la-Borne. Ce
 +
pistolet-l&agrave;, c'est dans ton int&eacute;r&ecirc;t. C'est pour que tu aies dans ta
 +
hotte plus de choses bonnes &agrave; manger.
 +
 
 +
 +
Tout &agrave; coup il entendit du bruit derri&egrave;re lui; c'&eacute;tait la porti&egrave;re
 +
Patagon qui l'avait suivi, et qui, de loin, lui montrait le poing en
 +
criant:
 +
 
 +
   
 +
&mdash;Tu n'es qu'un b&acirc;tard!
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;&Ccedil;a, dit Gavroche, je m'en fiche d'une mani&egrave;re profonde.
 +
 
 +
 +
Peu apr&egrave;s, il passait devant l'h&ocirc;tel Lamoignon. L&agrave; il poussa cet appel:
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;En route pour la bataille!
 +
 
 +
 +
Et il fut pris d'un acc&egrave;s de m&eacute;lancolie. Il regarda son pistolet d'un
 +
air de reproche qui semblait essayer de l'attendrir.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Je pars, lui dit-il, mais toi tu ne pars pas.
 +
 
 +
 +
Un chien peut distraire d'un autre. Un caniche tr&egrave;s maigre vint &agrave;
 +
passer. Gavroche s'apitoya.
 +
 
 +
 +
&mdash;Mon pauvre toutou, lui dit-il, tu as donc aval&eacute; un tonneau qu'on te
 +
voit tous les cerceaux.
 +
 
 +
 +
Puis il se dirigea vers l'Orme-Saint-Gervais.
 +
 
 +
 +
==English text==
 +
 
 +
 +
The brandishing of a triggerless pistol, grasped in one's hand in the open
 +
street, is so much of a public function that Gavroche felt his fervor
 +
increasing with every moment. Amid the scraps of the Marseillaise which he
 +
was singing, he shouted:&mdash;
 +
 
 +
 +
"All goes well. I suffer a great deal in my left paw, I'm all broken up
 +
with rheumatism, but I'm satisfied, citizens. All that the bourgeois have
 +
to do is to bear themselves well, I'll sneeze them out subversive
 +
couplets. What are the police spies? Dogs. And I'd just like to have one
 +
of them at the end of my pistol. I'm just from the boulevard, my friends.
 +
It's getting hot there, it's getting into a little boil, it's simmering.
 +
It's time to skim the pot. Forward march, men! Let an impure blood
 +
inundate the furrows! I give my days to my country, I shall never see my
 +
concubine more, Nini, finished, yes, Nini? But never mind! Long live joy!
 +
Let's fight, crebleu! I've had enough of despotism."
 +
 
 +
 +
At that moment, the horse of a lancer of the National Guard having fallen,
 +
Gavroche laid his pistol on the pavement, and picked up the man, then he
 +
assisted in raising the horse. After which he picked up his pistol and
 +
resumed his way. In the Rue de Thorigny, all was peace and silence. This
 +
apathy, peculiar to the Marais, presented a contrast with the vast
 +
surrounding uproar. Four gossips were chatting in a doorway.
 +
 
 +
 +
Scotland has trios of witches, Paris has quartettes of old gossiping hags;
 +
and the "Thou shalt be King" could be quite as mournfully hurled at
 +
Bonaparte in the Carrefour Baudoyer as at Macbeth on the heath of Armuyr.
 +
The croak would be almost identical.
 +
 
 +
 +
The gossips of the Rue de Thorigny busied themselves only with their own
 +
concerns. Three of them were portresses, and the fourth was a rag-picker
 +
with her basket on her back.
 +
 
 +
 +
All four of them seemed to be standing at the four corners of old age,
 +
which are decrepitude, decay, ruin, and sadness.
 +
 
 +
 +
The rag-picker was humble. In this open-air society, it is the rag-picker
 +
who salutes and the portress who patronizes. This is caused by the corner
 +
for refuse, which is fat or lean, according to the will of the portresses,
 +
and after the fancy of the one who makes the heap. There may be kindness
 +
in the broom.
 +
 
 +
 +
This rag-picker was a grateful creature, and she smiled, with what a
 +
smile! on the three portresses. Things of this nature were said:&mdash;
 +
 
 +
 +
"Ah, by the way, is your cat still cross?"
 +
 
 +
 +
"Good gracious, cats are naturally the enemies of dogs, you know. It's the
 +
dogs who complain."
 +
 
 +
 +
"And people also."
 +
 
 +
 +
"But the fleas from a cat don't go after people."
 +
 
 +
 +
"That's not the trouble, dogs are dangerous. I remember one year when
 +
there were so many dogs that it was necessary to put it in the newspapers.
 +
That was at the time when there were at the Tuileries great sheep that
 +
drew the little carriage of the King of Rome. Do you remember the King of
 +
Rome?"
 +
 
 +
 +
"I liked the Duc de Bordeau better."
 +
 
 +
 +
"I knew Louis XVIII. I prefer Louis XVIII."
 +
 
 +
 +
"Meat is awfully dear, isn't it, Mother Patagon?"
 +
 
 +
 +
"Ah! don't mention it, the butcher's shop is a horror. A horrible horror&mdash;one
 +
can't afford anything but the poor cuts nowadays."
 +
 
 +
 +
Here the rag-picker interposed:&mdash;
 +
 
 +
 +
"Ladies, business is dull. The refuse heaps are miserable. No one throws
 +
anything away any more. They eat everything."
 +
 
 +
 +
"There are poorer people than you, la Vargouleme."
 +
 
 +
 +
"Ah, that's true," replied the rag-picker, with deference, "I have a
 +
profession."
 +
 
 +
 +
A pause succeeded, and the rag-picker, yielding to that necessity for
 +
boasting which lies at the bottom of man, added:&mdash;
 +
 
 +
 +
"In the morning, on my return home, I pick over my basket, I sort my
 +
things. This makes heaps in my room. I put the rags in a basket, the cores
 +
and stalks in a bucket, the linen in my cupboard, the woollen stuff in my
 +
commode, the old papers in the corner of the window, the things that are
 +
good to eat in my bowl, the bits of glass in my fireplace, the old shoes
 +
behind my door, and the bones under my bed."
 +
 
 +
 +
Gavroche had stopped behind her and was listening.
 +
 
 +
 +
"Old ladies," said he, "what do you mean by talking politics?"
 +
 
 +
 +
He was assailed by a broadside, composed of a quadruple howl.
 +
 
 +
 +
"Here's another rascal."
 +
 
 +
 +
"What's that he's got in his paddle? A pistol?"
 +
 
 +
 +
"Well, I'd like to know what sort of a beggar's brat this is?"
 +
 
 +
 +
"That sort of animal is never easy unless he's overturning the
 +
authorities."
 +
 
 +
 +
Gavroche disdainfully contented himself, by way of reprisal, with
 +
elevating the tip of his nose with his thumb and opening his hand wide.
 +
 
 +
 +
The rag-picker cried:&mdash;
 +
 
 +
 +
"You malicious, bare-pawed little wretch!"
 +
 
 +
 +
The one who answered to the name of Patagon clapped her hands together in
 +
horror.
 +
 
 +
 +
"There's going to be evil doings, that's certain. The errand-boy next door
 +
has a little pointed beard, I have seen him pass every day with a young
 +
person in a pink bonnet on his arm; to-day I saw him pass, and he had a
 +
gun on his arm. Mame Bacheux says, that last week there was a revolution
 +
at&mdash;at&mdash;at&mdash;where's the calf!&mdash;at Pontoise. And then,
 +
there you see him, that horrid scamp, with his pistol! It seems that the
 +
Celestins are full of pistols. What do you suppose the Government can do
 +
with good-for-nothings who don't know how to do anything but contrive ways
 +
of upsetting the world, when we had just begun to get a little quiet after
 +
all the misfortunes that have happened, good Lord! to that poor queen whom
 +
I saw pass in the tumbril! And all this is going to make tobacco dearer.
 +
It's infamous! And I shall certainly go to see him beheaded on the
 +
guillotine, the wretch!"
 +
 
 +
 +
"You've got the sniffles, old lady," said Gavroche. "Blow your
 +
promontory."
 +
 
 +
 +
And he passed on. When he was in the Rue Pavee, the rag-picker occurred to
 +
his mind, and he indulged in this soliloquy:&mdash;
 +
 
 +
 +
"You're in the wrong to insult the revolutionists, Mother
 +
Dust-Heap-Corner. This pistol is in your interests. It's so that you may
 +
have more good things to eat in your basket."
 +
 
 +
 +
All at once, he heard a shout behind him; it was the portress Patagon who
 +
had followed him, and who was shaking her fist at him in the distance and
 +
crying:&mdash;
 +
 
 +
 +
"You're nothing but a bastard."
 +
 
 +
 +
"Oh! Come now," said Gavroche, "I don't care a brass farthing for that!"
 +
 
 +
 +
Shortly afterwards, he passed the Hotel Lamoignon. There he uttered this
 +
appeal:&mdash;
 +
 
 +
 +
"Forward march to the battle!"
 +
 
 +
 +
And he was seized with a fit of melancholy. He gazed at his pistol with an
 +
air of reproach which seemed an attempt to appease it:&mdash;
 +
 
 +
 +
"I'm going off," said he, "but you won't go off!"
 +
 
 +
 +
One dog may distract the attention from another dog.[[45]] A very gaunt poodle came
 +
along at the moment. Gavroche felt compassion for him.
 +
 
 +
 +
"My poor doggy," said he, "you must have gone and swallowed a cask, for
 +
all the hoops are visible."
 +
 
 +
 +
Then he directed his course towards l'Orme-Saint-Gervais.
 +
 
 +
 
 +
==Translation notes==
 +
 
 +
==Textual notes==
 +
 
 +
==Citations==
 +
<references />

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