the dryad-第4部分

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house　above　had　its　number　down　here　also；　and　struck　its　roots

under　the　macadamized　quays　of　a　broad　canal；　in　which　the　muddy　water

flowed　onward。　Over　it　the　fresh　streaming　water　was　carried　on

arches；　and　quite　at　the　top　hung　the　tangled　net　of　gas…pipes　and

telegraph…wires。

　　　　In　the　distance　lamps　gleamed；　like　a　reflection　from　the

world…city　above。　Every　now　and　then　a　dull　rumbling　was　heard。　This

came　from　the　heavy　wagons　rolling　over　the　entrance　bridges。

　　　　Whither　had　the　Dryad　come？

　　　　You　have；　no　doubt；　heard　of　the　CATACOMBS？　Now　they　are　vanishing

points　in　that　new　underground　world…　that　wonder　of　the　present

day…　the　sewers　of　Paris。　The　Dryad　was　there；　and　not　in　the

world's　Exhibition　in　the　Champ　de　Mars。

　　　　She　heard　exclamations　of　wonder　and　admiration。

　　　　〃From　here　go　forth　health　and　life　for　thousands　upon　thousands

up　yonder！　Our　time　is　the　time　of　progress；　with　its　manifold

blessings。〃

　　　　Such　was　the　opinion　and　the　speech　of　men；　but　not　of　those

creatures　who　had　been　born　here；　and　who　built　and　dwelt　here…　of　the

rats；　namely；　who　were　squeaking　to　one　another　in　the　clefts　of　a

crumbling　wall；　quite　plainly；　and　in　a　way　the　Dryad　understood　well。

　　　　A　big　old　Father…Rat；　with　his　tail　bitten　off；　was　relieving

his　feelings　in　loud　squeaks；　and　his　family　gave　their　tribute　of

concurrence　to　every　word　he　said：

　　　　〃I　am　disgusted　with　this　man…mewing；〃　he　cried…　〃with　these

outbursts　of　ignorance。　A　fine　magnificence；　truly！　all　made　up　of　gas

and　petroleum！　I　can't　eat　such　stuff　as　that。　Everything　here　is　so

fine　and　bright　now；　that　one's　ashamed　of　one's　self；　without　exactly

knowing　why。　Ah；　if　we　only　lived　in　the　days　of　tallow　candles！　and

it　does　not　lie　so　very　far　behind　us。　That　was　a　romantic　time；　as

one　may　say。〃

　　　　〃What　are　you　talking　of　there？〃　asked　the　Dryad。　〃I　have　never

seen　you　before。　What　is　it　you　are　talking　about？〃

　　　　〃Of　the　glorious　days　that　are　gone；〃　said　the　Rat…　〃of　the

happy　time　of　our　great…grandfathers　and　great…grandmothers。　Then　it

was　a　great　thing　to　get　down　here。　That　was　a　rat's　nest　quite

different　from　Paris。　Mother　Plague　used　to　live　here　then；　she　killed

people；　but　never　rats。　Robbers　and　smugglers　could　breathe　freely

here。　Here　was　the　meeting…place　of　the　most　interesting　personages；

whom　one　now　only　gets　to　see　in　the　theatres　where　they　act

melodrama；　up　above。　The　time　of　romance　is　gone　even　in　our　rat's

nest；　and　here　also　fresh　air　and　petroleum　have　broken　in。〃

　　　　Thus　squeaked　the　Rat；　he　squeaked　in　honor　of　the　old　time；

when　Mother　Plague　was　still　alive。

　　　　A　carriage　stopped；　a　kind　of　open　omnibus；　drawn　by　swift　horses。

The　company　mounted　and　drove　away　along　the　Boulevard　de

Sebastopol；　that　is　to　say；　the　underground　boulevard；　over　which

the　well…known　crowded　street　of　that　name　extended。

　　　　The　carriage　disappeared　in　the　twilight；　the　Dryad　disappeared；

lifted　to　the　cheerful　freshness　above。　Here；　and　not　below　in　the

vaulted　passages；　filled　with　heavy　air；　the　wonder　work　must　be　found

which　she　was　to　seek　in　her　short　lifetime。　It　must　gleam　brighter

than　all　the　gas…flames；　stronger　than　the　moon　that　was　just

gliding　past。

　　　　Yes；　certainly；　she　saw　it　yonder　in　the　distance；　it　gleamed

before　her；　and　twinkled　and　glittered　like　the　evening　star　in　the

sky。

　　　　She　saw　a　glittering　portal　open；　that　led　to　a　little　garden；

where　all　was　brightness　and　dance　music。　Colored　lamps　surrounded

little　lakes；　in　which　were　water…plants　of　colored　metal；　from

whose　flowers　jets　of　water　spurted　up。　Beautiful　weeping　willows；

real　products　of　spring；　hung　their　fresh　branches　over　these　lakes

like　a　fresh；　green；　transparent；　and　yet　screening　veil。　In　the

bushes　burnt　an　open　fire；　throwing　a　red　twilight　over　the　quiet　huts

of　branches；　into　which　the　sounds　of　music　penetrated…　an　ear

tickling；　intoxicating　music；　that　sent　the　blood　coursing　through　the

veins。

　　　　Beautiful　girls　in　festive　attire；　with　pleasant　smiles　on　their

lips；　and　the　light　spirit　of　youth　in　their　hearts…　〃Marys；〃　with

roses　in　their　hair；　but　without　carriage　and　postilion…　flitted　to

and　fro　in　the　wild　dance。

　　　　Where　were　the　heads；　where　the　feet？　As　if　stung　by　tarantulas；

they　sprang；　laughed；　rejoiced；　as　if　in　their　ecstacies　they　were

going　to　embrace　all　the　world。

　　　　The　Dryad　felt　herself　torn　with　them　into　the　whirl　of　the　dance。

Round　her　delicate　foot　clung　the　silken　boot；　chestnut　brown　in

color；　like　the　ribbon　that　floated　from　her　hair　down　upon　her　bare

shoulders。　The　green　silk　dress　waved　in　large　folds；　but　did　not

entirely　hide　the　pretty　foot　and　ankle。

　　　　Had　she　come　to　the　enchanted　Garden　of　Armida？　What　was　the

name　of　the　place？

　　　　The　name　glittered　in　gas…jets　over　the　entrance。　It　was

〃Mabille。〃

　　　　The　soaring　upwards　of　rockets；　the　splashing　of　fountains；　and

the　popping　of　champagne　corks　accompanied　the　wild　bacchantic

dance。　Over　the　whole　glided　the　moon　through　the　air；　clear；　but　with

a　somewhat　crooked　face。

　　　　A　wild　joviality　seemed　to　rush　through　the　Dryad；　as　though　she

were　intoxicated　with　opium。　Her　eyes　spoke；　her　lips　spoke；　but　the

sound　of　violins　and　of　flutes　drowned　the　sound　of　her　voice。　Her

partner　whispered　words　to　her　which　she　did　not　understand；　nor　do　we

understand　them。　He　stretched　out　his　arms　to　draw　her　to　him；　but

he　embraced　only　the　empty　air。

　　　　The　Dryad　had　been　carried　away；　like　a　rose…leaf　on　the　wind。

Before　her　she　saw　a　flame　in　the　air；　a　flashing　light　high　up　on　a

tower。　The　beacon　light　shone　from　the　goal　of　her　longing；　shone　from

the　red　lighthouse　tower　of　the　Fata　Morgana　of　the　Champ　de　Mars。

Thither　she　was　carried　by　the　wind。　She　circled　round　the　tower；

the　workmen　thought　it　was　a　butterfly　that　had　come　too　early；　and

that　now　sank　down　dying。

　　　　The　moon　shone　bright；　gas…lamps　spread　light　around；　through

the　halls；　over　the　all…world's　buildings　scattered　about；　over　the

rose…hills　and　the　rocks　produced　by　human　ingenuity；　from　which

waterfalls；　driven　by　the　power　of　〃Master　Bloodless；〃　fell　down。

The　caverns　of　the　sea；　the　depths　of　the　lakes；　the　kingdom　of　the

fishes　were　opened　here。　Men　walked　as　in　the　depths　of　the　deep　pond；

and　held　converse　with　the　sea；　in　the　diving…bell　of　glass。　The　water

pressed　against　the　strong　glass　walls　above　and　on　every　side。　The

polypi；　eel…like　living　creatures；　had　fastened　themselves　to　the

bottom；　and　stretched　out　arms；　fathoms　long；　for　prey。　A　big　turbot

was　making　himself　broad　in　front；　quietly　enough；　but　not　without

casting　some　suspicious　glances　aside。　A　crab　clambered　over　him；

looking　like　a　gigantic　spider；　while　the　shrimps　wandered　about　in

restless　haste；　like　the　butterflies　and　moths　of　the　sea。

　　　　In　the　fresh　water　grew　water…lilies；　nymphaea；　and　reeds；　the

gold…fishes　stood　up　below　in　rank　and　file；　all　turning　their　heads

one　way；　that　the　streaming　water　might　flow　into　their　mouths。　Fat

carps　stared　at　the　glass　wall　with　stupid　eyes。　They　knew　that　they

were　here　to　be　exhibited；　and　that　they　had　made　the　somewhat

toilsome　journey　hither　in　tubs　filled　with　water；　and　they　thought

with　dismay　of　the　land…sickness　from　which　they　had　suffered　so

cruelly　on　the　railway。

　　　　They　had　come　to　see　the　Exhibition；　and　now　contemplated　it

from　their　fresh　or　salt…water　position。　They　looked　attentively　at

the　crowds　of　people　who　passed　by　them　early　and　late。　All　the

nations　in　the　world；　they　thought；　had　made　an　exhibition　of　their

inhabitants；　for　the　edification　of　the　soles　and　haddocks；　pike　and

carp；　that　they　might　give　their　opinions　upon　the　different　kinds。

　　　　〃Those　are　scaly　animals〃　said　a　little　slimy　Whiting。　〃They　put

on　different　scales　two　or　three　times　a　day；　and　they　emit　sounds

which　they　call　speaking。　We　don't　put　on　scales；　and　we　make

ourselves　understood　in　an　easier　way；　simply　by　twitching　the　corners

of　our　mouths　and　staring　with　our　eyes。　We　have　a　great　many

advantages　over　mankind。〃

　　　　〃But　they　have　learned　swimming　of　us；〃　remarked　a　well…educated

Codling。　〃You　must　know　I　come　from　the　great　sea　outside。　In　the

hot　time　of　the　year　the　people　yonder　go　into　the　water；　first　they

take　off　their　scales；　and　then　they　swim。　They　have　learnt　from　the

frogs　to　kick　out　with　their　hind　legs；　and　row　with　their　fore

paws。　But　they　cannot　hold　out　long。　They　want　to　be　like　us；　but　they

cannot　come　up　to　us。　Poor　people！〃

　　　　And　the　fishes　stared。　They　thought　that　the　whole　swarm　of　people

whom　they　had　seen　in　the　bright　daylight　were　still　moving　around

them；　they　were　certain　they　still　saw　the　same　forms　that　had　first

caught　their　attention。

　　　　A　pretty　Barbel；　with　spotted　skin；　and　an　enviably　round　back；

declared　that　the　〃human　fry〃　were　still　there。

　　　　〃I　can　see　a　well　set…up　human　figure　quite　well；〃　said　the

Barbel。　〃She　was　called　'contumacious　lady；'　or　something　of　that

kind。　She　had　a　mouth　and　staring　eyes；　like　ours；　and　a　great　balloon

at　the　back　of　her　head；　and　something　like　a　shut…up　umbrella　in

front；　there　were　a　lot　of　dangling　bits　of　seaweed　hanging　about　her。

She　ought　to　take　all　the　rubbish　off；　and　go　as　we　do；　then　she　would

look　something　like　a　respectable　barbel；　so　far　as　it　is　possible　for

a　person　to　look　like　one！〃

　　　　〃What's　become　of　that　one　whom　they　drew　away　with　the　hook？　He

sat　on　a　wheel…chair；　and　had　paper；　and　pen；　and　ink；　and　wrote

down　everything。　They　called　him　a　'writer。'〃

　　　　〃They're　going　about　with　him　still；〃　said　a　hoary　old　maid　of　a

Carp；　who　carried　her　misfortune　about　with　her；　so　that　she　was　quite

hoarse。　In　her　youth　she　had　once　swallowed　a　hook；　and　still　swam

patiently　about　with　it　in　her　gullet。　〃A　writer？　That　means；　as　we

fishes　describe　it；　a　kind　of　cuttle　or　ink…fish　among　men。〃

　　　　Thus　the　fishes　gossipped　in　their　own　way；　but　in　the

artificial　water…grotto　the　laborers　were　busy；　who　were　obliged　to