作者：(法)奥诺雷·德·巴尔扎克
出版社：航空工业出版社
格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT
床头灯英语5000词纯英文：高老头试读：
故事梗概
《高老头》是法国19世纪著名的作家奥诺雷·德·巴尔扎克的代表作。本书的两个主要人物分别是退休面粉商人高老头和大学生尤金·拉斯蒂涅。退休面粉商人高里奥将全部心血都倾注在了两个女儿的身上，他用巨额的嫁妆把她们嫁给了两个爵爷，使她们进入了上流社会，不料却遭到女儿的遗弃。两个女儿只把父亲当成摇钱树，一次又一次地向父亲索要钱财，渐渐榨干了父亲的最后一滴血。在两个女儿的婚外恋分别被丈夫发现后，她们为了钱在高老头面前大吵大闹，把高老头气得中了风，几天后悲惨地死去了。直到高老头临死之前，女儿也没有来看他，而是去忙着参加一个上流社会的大型舞会。
本书的另外一个重要人物是没落贵族子弟拉斯蒂涅。他从内地来到巴黎攻读法律，本想刻苦攻读重振家业。但当他在表姐博赛昂夫人的客厅里见识了上流社会灯红酒绿、纸醉金迷的腐朽生活后，想往上爬的个人野心日益膨胀。在逃犯沃脱冷的唆使下，他欺骗善良无知的泰伊番小姐，获取她的爱情，几乎成为逃犯沃脱冷杀人夺遗产计划的帮凶。他又结识了特·尼沁根子爵夫人，并成了她的情人，想通过作贵妇人的情人来发家致富。他一步步地被金钱所腐蚀，开始丧失正直的良心，沦为一名资产阶级野心家。在目睹了两个女儿对父亲的无情无义以后，他埋葬了青年人的最后一滴眼泪，决定与这个黑暗的巴黎社会来拼一拼。CHAPTER 1Maison Vauquer
Mme. Vauquer is an elderly person, who for the past forty years has kept a lodging -house in the district that lies between the Latin Quarter and the Faubourg Saint-Marcel. Her house receives men and women, old and young, and no word has ever been breathed against her respectable establishment. The lodging-house is Mme. Vauquer's own property. It is still standing in the lower end of the Rue Nueve-Sainte-Genevieve.
At the time when this story begins, the lodging-house contained seveninmates. The best rooms in the house were on the first story, Mme. Vauquer herself occupying the least important, while the rest were let to a Mme. Couture, the widow of a commissary -general in the service of the Republic. With her, lived Victorine Taillefer, a schoolgirl, to whom she filled the place of mother.
The two sets of rooms on the second floor were occupied by an old man named Poiret and a man of forty orthereabouts, the wearer of a black wig and dyed whiskers , who gave out that he was a retired merchant, and was addressed as M. Vautrin. Two of the four rooms on the third floor were also let — one to an elderly woman, a Mlle. Michonneau, and the other to a retired manufacturer of pasta, Italian paste and starch , who allowed the others to address him as“Father Goriot.”The remaining rooms were allotted to various birds of passage, or to students. At that time, one of the rooms was tenanted by a law student. Misfortune had accustomed Eugene de Rastignac, for that was his name, to work.
These sevenlodgers were Mme. Vauquer's spoiled children. One single consideration influenced all these human beings thrown together by chance. Poverty, more or less apparent , weighed upon them all, Mme. Couture being the sole exception to the rule.
Two, however, of Mme. Vauquer'sboarders formed a striking contrast to the rest. Mlle. Victorine Taillefer's face had an unvarying expression of sadness. She was pretty by force of contrast; if she had been happy, she would have been charming. Her father was persuaded that he had reason for declining to acknowledge her; he had taken measures to disinherit his daughter. Victorine's mother had died broken-hearted in Mme. Couture's house; and the latter, who was a near relation, had taken charge of the little orphan. Eugene de Rastignac had a fair complexion, blue eyes, and black hair.
Vautrin (the man of forty with the dyed whiskers) marked atransition stage between these two young people and the others. He was always obliging , always in good spirits. If anyone complained rather more than usual, he would offer his services at once.
Such a gathering contained, as might have been expected, the elements out of which a complete society might be constructed. And, as in a school, as in the world itself, there was among the eighteen men and women who met round the dinner table, a poorcreature, despised by all the others, condemned to be the butt of all their jokes. At the beginning of Eugene de Rastignac's second twelvemonth , this figure suddenly started out into bold relief against the background of human forms and faces among which the law student was yet to live for another two years to come. This laughing-stock was the retired pasta merchant, Father Goriot.
How had it come about that the boarders regarded him withcontempt? Why did they subject the oldest among their number to a kind of persecution , in which there was mingled some pity, but no respect for his misfortunes? Had he brought it on himself by some eccentricity or absurdity ? The question strikes at the root of many a social injustice. Perhaps it is only human nature to inflict suffering on anything that will endure suffering, whether by reason of its genuine modesty , or indifference, or sheer helplessness. Do we not, one and all, like to feel our strength even at the expense of some one or of something?
In the year 1813, at the age of sixty-nine or thereabouts,“Father Goriot”had sold his business and retired — to Mme. Vauquer's boarding house. When he first came there he had taken the rooms now occupied by Mme. Couture. For him, Mme. Vauquer had made various improvements in the three roomsdestined for his use, in consideration of a certain sum paid in advance for the furniture. Possibly it was the careless generosity with which Father Goriot allowed himself to be over reached at this period of his life that gave Mme. Vauquer the meanest opinion of his business abilities.
Soup, boiled beef, and a dish of vegetables had been, and always would be, the dinner M. Goriot liked best, so Mme. Vauquer found it very difficult to annoy a boarder whose tastes were so simple.
However, towards the end of the first year, the widow'ssuspicions had reached such a pitch that she began to wonder how it was that a retired merchant with a secure income should be living in her house. Until the first year was nearly at an end, Goriot had dined out once or twice every week, but these occasions came less frequently, and at last he was scarcely absent from dinner. She attributed the change not so much to a gradual diminution of fortune as to a wish to annoy his hostess. Unluckily, towards the end of the second year, M. Goriot's conduct gave some color to the idle talk about him. He asked Mme. Vauquer to give him a room on the second floor, and to make a corresponding reduction in her charges!
Early one morning Mme. Vauquer heard a young woman'sfootstep on the stairs; someone was going in to Goriot's room.
“M. Goriot must beawfully rich, Madame,”the maid remarked, as the young woman was wearing beautiful, expensive garments.
While they were at dinner that evening, Mme. Vauquer went to the window and drew the curtain, as the sun was shining into Goriot's eyes.
“You are beloved of fair ladies, M. Goriot, the sun seeks you out,”she said,alluding to his visitor.“You have good taste; she was very pretty.”
“That was my daughter,”he said, with a kind of pride in his voice.
A month after this visit M. Goriot received another. The same daughter who had come to see him that morning came again after dinner, this time in an evening dress. A few days later, and another yong lady — tall with dark brown hair and bright eyes — came to ask for M. Goriot.
Then the second daughter, who had first come in the morning to see her father, came shortly afterwards in the evening. She wore a ball dress, and came in a carriage. By the end of the month of November 1819, at the time when the curtain rises on this drama, everyone in the house had come to have a very decided opinion as to the poor old man.
Eugene de Rastignac, the law student, had just returned to Paris. His aunt, Mme. de Marcillac, had been presented at court, and had moved among the brightest heights of that lofty region. Suddenly the young man'sambition discerned in those re-collections of hers, the elements of a social success at least as important as the success which he had achieved at the Ecole de Droit. He began to ask his aunt about those relations; some of the old ties might still hold good. After much shaking of the branches of the family tree, the old lady came to the conclusion that of all persons who could be useful to her nephew among rich relations, the Vicomtesse de Beauseant was the least likely to refuse. To this lady she wrote, recommending Eugene to her; pointing out to her nephew that if he succeeded in pleasing Mme. de Beauseant, the Vicomtesse would introduce him to other relations. The Vicomtesse replied by an invitation to a ball for the following evening. This was the position of affairs at the Maison Vauquer at the end of November 1819.
A few days later, after Mme. de Beauseant's ball, Eugene came in at two o'clock in the morning. He satabsorbed in thought for a few moments beforeplunging into his law books. He had just become aware of the fact that the Vicomtesse de Beauseant was one of the queens of fashion.
Eugene had beendazzled at first by thebrilliant assembly, and had scarcely exchanged a few words with the Vicomtesse; he had been content to single out a goddess among this throng of Parisian divinities, one of those women who are sure to attract a young man's fancy, for the Comtesse Anastasie de Restaud was tall and gracefully made.
“Where shall I meet you again, Madame?”he had asked abruptly.
“Oh, everywhere!”said she.
With hisadventurous southerntemper, he did all he could to cultivate an acquaintance with this lovely countess, making the best of his opportunities in the quadrille and during a waltz that she gave him. When at last Eugene arrived home he had opened his door noiselessly, went out upon the landing, and saw a thin streak of light under Father Goriot's door. Eugene feared that his neighbor had been taken ill; he went over and looked through the keyhole; the old man was busily engaged in an occupation strangely suspicious.
The table was turned over, and Goriot had doubtless in some waysecured a silver plate and cup to the bar beforeknotting a thick rope round them; he was pulling at this rope with such enormous force that they were being crushed and twisted out of shape; it appeared he meant to change the richly wrought metal into ingots.
Father Goriot had unwound hiscoil of rope; he had covered the table with a blanket, and was now employed in rolling theflattened mass of silver into a bar. The old man looked sadly at his handiwork, and tears fell from his eyes.
“Poor child!”Father Goriot said aloud. Rastignac, hearing those words, concluded to keep silence; he would nothastily condemn his neighbor.
The next morning Paris waswrapped in one of thedense fogs that throw the most punctual people out in their calculations as to the time; even the most business-like folk fail to keep their appointments in such weather.
The door bell rang, and Vautrin came through the sittingroom, speaking loudly:
“Oh! I have just seen something so funny. Father Goriot in the goldsmith's shop in the Rue Dauphine at half-past eight this morning. They buy old spoons and forks and gold lace there, and Goriot sold a piece of silver plate for a good round sum. It had been twisted out of shape very neatly for a man that's not used to the trade.”
“Christophe,”they suddenly heard Father Goriot cry to the houseboy,“come upstairs with me.”
Christophe went up, and shortly afterwards came down again.
“Where are you going?”Mme. Vauquer asked of her servant.
“Out on anerrand for M. Goriot.”
“What may that be?”said Vautrin, taking the letter.“Mme. la Comtesse Anastasie de Restaud,”he read.“Where are you going with it?”he added, as he gave the letter back to Christophe.
“To the Rue du Helder. I have orders to give this into her hands myself.”
Then Mme. Couture and Mlle. Taillefer came in.
“Today is the day when we must go to see M. Taillefer. Poor little thing!”Mme. Couture said.
“Poor child!”said Mme. Vauquer.“Yourwretch of a father is going just the way to bring trouble upon himself.”
Victorine's eyes filled with tears at the words, and the widow checked herself at a sign from Mme. Couture.
The seven people thusassembled bade each other good- morning, and took their places at the table; the clock struck ten, and the student's footstep was heard outside.
“Ah! here you are, M. Eugene,”said Sylvie;“every one is breakfasting at home today.”
The student exchanged greetings with the lodgers, and sat down beside Goriot, who had come down as well.
“I have just met with aqueer adventure,”he said.“Yesterday evening I went to a ball given by a cousin of mine, the Vicomtesse de Beauseant. I danced with one of the handsomest women in the room. Well, and this morning I met thisdivine countess about nine o'clock, on foot in the Rue de Gres. Oh! How my heart beat! I began to think. . .”
“That she was coming here,”said Vautrin, with akeen look at the student.“I expect that she was going to call on old Gobseck, a money-lender. If ever you explore a Parisian woman's heart, you will find the money-lender first, and the lover afterwards. Your countess is called Anastasie de Restaud, and she lives in the Rue du Helder.”
The student stared hard at Vautrin. Father Goriot raised his head at the words, and gave the two speakers a glance so full ofintelligence and uneasiness that the lodgersbeheld him with astonishment.
“Then Christophe was too late, and she must have gone to him!”cried Goriot, with anguish in his voice.
“It is just as I guessed,”said Vautrin,leaning over to whisper in Mme. Vauquer's ear.
Goriot went on with his breakfast, but seemedunconscious of what he was doing. He had never looked more stupid nor more taken up with his own thoughts than he did at that moment.
“Who thedevil could have told you her name, M. Vautrin?”asked Eugene.
“Aha! There you are!”answered Vautrin.“Old Father Goriot there knew it quite well! And why should I not know it too?”
“M. Goriot?”the student cried.
“What is it?”asked the old man.“So she was very beautiful, was she, yesterday night?”
“Who?”
“Mme. de Restaud.”
“Look at the old wretch,”said Mme. Vauquer, speaking to Vautrin;“how his eyes light up!”
Father Goriot's face, which had shone at the student's words like the sun on a bright day, clouded over all at once.
“Well,”said Mme. Vauquer,“but where is your adventure? Did you speak to her? Did you ask her if she wanted to study law?”
“She did not see me,”said Eugene.“But only think of meeting one of the prettiest women in Paris in the Rue des Gres at nine o'clock! She could not have reached home after the ball till two o'clock this morning. Wasn't it queer? There is no place like Paris for these sort of adventures.”
Mme. Couture made a sign that it was time to go upstairs and dress, and the two ladies went out. Father Goriot soon followed.
“Well, did you see?”said Mme. Vauquer, addressing Vautrin and the rest of the circle.“He is ruining himself for those women, that is plain.”
“Nothing will ever make me believe that beautiful Comtesse de Restaud is anything to Father Goriot,”cried the student.
“Well, and if you don't,”broke in Vautrin,“we are not set onconvincing you. You are too young to know Paris thoroughly yet. When folk of that kind get a notion into their heads, they cannot drop it.
The secret is not difficult to guess. Father Goroit took some plate himself this morning to the melting pot, and I saw him at Daddy Gobseck's in the Rue des Gres. And now, mark what follows — he came back here, and gave a letter for the Comtesse de Restaud to that noodle of a Christophe, who showed us the address; there was areceipted bill inside it. It is clear that it was anurgent matter if the Countess also went herself to the old money-lender. Father Goriot has financed her handsomely. There is no need to tack a tale together; the thing is self-evident. So that shows you, sir student, that all the time your Countess was smiling, dancing, flirting, swaying her peach-flower crowned head, with her gown gathered into her hand, her slippers were pinching her, as they say; she was thinking of her protested bills, or her lover's protested bills.”
“You have made me wild to know the truth,”cried Eugene;“I will go to call on Mme. de Restaud tomorrow.”
“Yes,”echoed Poiret;“you must go and call on Mme. de Restaud.”
“And perhaps you will find Father Goriot there, who will take payment for the assistance he politely rendered.”
“What,”cried Mme. Vauquer,“has Father Goriot reallymelted down his silver-dish?”
“There were twoturtledoves on the lid, were there not?”asked Eugene.
“Yes, that there were.”
“Then, was he fond of it?”said Eugene.“He cried while he was breaking up the cup and plate. I happened to see him by accident.”
“It was dear to him as his own life,”answered the widow.“It was his wife's present to him on the first anniversary of their wedding day.”
At four o'clock that evening, when Goriot came in, he saw, by the light of twosmoky lamps, that Victorine's eyes were red. Mme. Vauquer was listening to the history of the visit made that morning to M. Taillefer; it had been made in vain.
“My dear lady,”said Mme. Couture, addressing Mme. Vauquer,“just imagine it； he did not even ask Victorine to sit down.”
The boarders dropped in one after another,interchanging greetings and empty jokes that certain classes ofParisians regard as humorous and witty.
“Well, mademoiselle,”Vautrin said, turning to Victorine,“you are eating nothing. So papa was difficult, was he?”
“A monster!”said Mme. Couture.
“Mademoiselle might make application for ailment pending her suit; she is not eating any thing. Eh! eh! just see how Father Goriot is staring at Mlle. Victorine.”
The old man had forgotten his dinner, he was so absorbed ingazing at the poor girl; the sorrow in her face wasunmistakable — the slighted love of a child whose father would not recognize her.
“We are mistaken about Father Goriot,”said Eugene in a low voice.“He is not an idiot.”注释
lodging ［lɔʤiŋ］ n. 寄宿
establishment ［is'tæbliʃmənt］ n. 机构，处所
inmate ［'inmeit］ n. 室友
widow ［'widəu］ n. 寡妇
commissary ［'kɔmisəri］ n. 军需库
schoolgirl ［'sku:lgə:l］ n. 女学生
thereabouts ［'ðɛərəbauts］ adv. 附近
wig ［wig］ n. 假发
dye ［dai］ v. 染色
whisker ［'hwiskə］ n. 胡子
manufacturer ［ˌmænju'fæktʃərə］ n. 制造商
pasta ［'pɑ:stə］ n. 面制品
starch ［stɑ:tʃ］ n. 淀粉
allot ［ə'lɔt］ v. 分配
tenant ［tenənt］ v. 出租
lodger ［'lɔʤə］ n. 寄宿者
spoil ［'spɔil］ v. 宠爱
poverty ［'pɔvəti］ n. 贫穷
apparent ［ə'pærənt］ adj. 明显的
sole ［səul］ adj. 唯一的
boarder ［'bɔ:də］ n. 寄宿者
contrast ［'kɔntræst］ n. 对比
unvarying ［ʌn'vɛəriiŋ］ adj. 永远的
decline ［dik'lain］ v. 拒绝
acknowledge ［ək'nɔliʤ］ v. 承认
disinherit ［'disin'herit］ v. 剥夺继承权
orphan ［'ɔ:fən］ n. 孤儿
complexion ［kəm'plekʃən］ n. 肤色
transition ［træn'ziʒən,-'siʃən］ n. 转折
obliging ［ə'blaiʤiŋ］ adj. 愿意帮人忙的
complain ［kəm'plein］ v. 抱怨
creature ［'kri:tʃə］ n. 动物
despise ［di'spaiz］ v. 看不起
condemn ［kən'dem］ v. 谴责、斥责
butt ［bʌt］ n. 笑柄
twelvemonth ［'twelvmʌnθ］ n. 十二个月
bold ［bəuld］ adj. 醒目的，易见的
relief ［ri'li:f］ n. 浮雕
laughing-stock ［'lɑ:fiŋstɔk］ n. 笑柄
contempt ［kən'tempt］ n. 轻蔑
persecution ［ˌpə:si'kju:ʃən］ n. 迫害
mingle ［'miŋgl］ v. 混合
eccentricity ［eksen'trisiti］ n. 古怪
absurdity ［əb'sə:diti］ n. 可笑
inflict ［in'flikt］ v. 造成
genuine ［'ʤenjuin］ adj. 真正的
modesty ［'mɔdisti］ n. 谦卑
helplessness ［'helplisnis］ n. 无助
destine ［'destin］ v. 注定
sum ［sʌm］ n. 总数
over reach oneself 自不量力而失败
suspicion ［səs'piʃn］ n. 怀疑
pitch ［pitʃ］ n. 高度
scarcely ［'skɛəsli］ adv. 几乎不
attribute ［ə'tribu:t］ v. 归因于
gradual ［'grædjuəl］ adj. 逐渐的
diminution ［ˌdimi'nju:ʃən］ n. 减少
idle ［'aidl］ adj. 空闲的
reduction ［ri'dʌkʃən］ n. 减少
footstep ［'futstep］ n. 脚步
awfully ［'ɔ:fuli］ adv. 非常地
garment ［'gɑ:mənt］ n. 衣服
allude ［ə'lju:d］ v. 暗指
drama ［'drɑ:mə］ n. 戏剧
ambition ［æm'biʃən］ n. 野心
discern ［di'sə:n］ v. 察觉
absorbed ［əb'sɔ:bd］ adj. 全神贯注的
plunge ［'plʌnʤ］ v. 跳进
aware ［ə'wɛə］ adj. 意识到的
dazzle ［'dæzl］ vt. 使耀眼
brilliant ［'briljənt］ adj. 闪耀的
assembly ［ə'sembli］ n. 集合
goddess ［'gɔdis］ n. 女神
throng ［θrɔŋ］ n. 人群
Parisian ［pə'rizjən］ adj. 巴黎的
divinity ［di'viniti］ n. 神，上帝
adventurous ［əd'ventʃərəs］ adj. 冒险的
temper ［'tempə］ n. 脾气，性格
cultivate ［'kʌltiveit］ v. 培养
acquaintance ［ə'kweintəns］ n. 熟人
opportunity ［ˌɔpə'ju:niti］ n. 机会
quadrille ［kwɔ'dril,kə-］ n. 四对方舞
waltz ［wɔ:(t)s］ n. 华尔兹舞
noiselessly ［'nɔizlisli］ adv. 无声地
secure ［si'kjuə］ v. 被固定
knot ［nɔt］ v. 打结
enormous ［i'nɔ:məs］ adj. 巨大的
crush ［krʌʃ］ v. 压弯，使变形
twist ［twist］ v. 使扭曲
ingot ［'ingət］ n. 锭；铸块
coil ［kɔil］ n. 卷
flatten ［flætn］ v. 弄平
handiwork ［'hændiwə:k］ n. 手工，手艺
hastily ［'heistili］ adv. 轻率地，匆忙地
condemn ［kən'dem］ v. 谴责
wrap ［ræp］ v. 包裹
dense ［dens］ adj. 浓的
punctual ［'pʌŋktjuəl］ adj. 准时的
calculation ［kælkju'leiʃən］ n. 计算
sittingroom ［'sitiŋru:m］ n. 客厅
goldsmith ［'gəuldsmiθ］ n. 金匠
houseboy ［hausbɔi］ n. 男仆
errand ［'erənd］ n. 差事
wretch ［retʃ］ n. 卑鄙的人
assemble ［ə'sembl］ v. 集合
bid ［bid］ v. 祝愿
试读结束[说明：试读内容隐藏了图片]