Chapter 21 21. The Road of Destiny

The singing is over.The lyrics were written by David and the tune has a country twist.In the tavern, people gathered around the table and applauded enthusiastically because the young poet paid for the drinks.Only Monsieur Papineau, the notary, did not clap.After hearing these few lines of lyrics, he shook his head and couldn't agree, because he was well-read and knowledgeable, and he didn't drink with other people. David went out into the village street.Night Breeze dispelled the smell of alcohol from his head.At this moment, he remembered that he had just quarreled with Yvonne that night, and he had already made up his mind to run away from home and venture into the big world outside.

When the whole world reads my poems, he thought smugly, she might regret the bad things she said today. Except for those drinking and having fun in the hotel, the whole village has fallen asleep.His room is a shed built next to his father's thatched house.He sneaked in quietly, packed the clothes into a bag, then pried it up with a wooden stick and put it on his shoulders, and set off on the road away from Vilnoir with his head held high. His father's sheep huddled in their pens in the dark.He walked by and he used to let them graze every day, let them run around, and write poems and lyrics on small pieces of paper.He saw that Yvonne's window was still lit, and for a moment his resolve was shaken.The light might mean she couldn't sleep, regretted getting angry, maybe in the morning she would but, no!He has made up his mind.Vilnois was not at all the place for him.No one here can understand him.His destiny and future lie on the road ahead.

Three miles of road across the field in the dim moonlight, straight as a plowman's furrow.Everyone in the village believed that this road must lead to Paris.The poet recited the name from time to time as he walked.David had never been so far away from Vilnois before. left fork The road stretched end to end for three miles, and then became a mystery.It intersects another wider road at right angles.David stood at the fork, hesitated for a while, and then stepped on the left fork. On this more important road, traffic had passed by not long ago, leaving clear wheel marks on the road.After about half an hour, the speculation was confirmed.At the foot of the steep hill there was a creek, and a heavy four-wheeled carriage was stuck in it.The coachman and rider yelled at the horses and kept pulling the reins.A burly man in black stood by the side of the road; beside him stood a slender woman wrapped in a long thin coat.

David saw that the servants, despite their efforts, lacked skill.He remained silent and took the initiative to step forward to direct the operation.He told his attendants to stop yelling at the horses and to push the wheels hard, and only let the coachman urge the horse-drawn cart with a familiar voice.David himself pushed the back of the wagon with his powerful shoulders.Everyone coordinated and worked hard, and with one click, the carriage drove onto the hard ground.The attendants climbed back into the carriage. David stood sideways for a moment.The big rich man waved his hand.You get in the car, he said, with a voice as big as his size, but not rude by his upbringing and habits.Wherever the voice goes, it evokes nothing but obedience.The young poet hesitated only for a moment, and then came another order, which made him hesitate no longer.David got into the carriage.In the darkness, he vaguely saw the figure of the woman in the back seat.He was about to sit on the seat opposite, only to hear the voice order again: sit next to the woman.

Regal turned his huge body around and sat down in the front seat.The carriage continued up the hill.The woman was silent, curled up in a corner.David could not guess whether she was old or young, but there was a faint, soft fragrance from her dress, which made him wonder that there must be beauty veiled in mystery.This was exactly the kind of adventure he had often imagined.But until now he had not found the key to the mystery, for, though he sat with this incomprehensible companion, not a word was spoken between them. An hour later, David saw the carriage passing through the streets of a certain town through the window.Presently the carriage stopped in front of a closed, unlit house.A squire dismounted from his horse and knocked impatiently on the door.A latticed window upstairs flung open, and out of the darkness a figure appeared.

Who is knocking on the door in the middle of the night, disturbing us quiet people?The shop is closed.No matter what time it is, there will be no tourists who pay for lodging.Stop knocking and go away! Open the door, the servant yelled, spit spattered, open the door!The Marquis de Beaupeduis is coming in. oh!The voice upstairs screamed, my lord, please forgive me.I don't know it's so late, it will open immediately, adults can use the room as they please. There was a clang of chains and bars from within, and the door swung wide open.The keeper of the Silver Goblet Inn, shivering with cold and fear, stood on the threshold with a candle in his hand, not even fully clothed.

David got out of the car after the Marquis.After helping the lady, the Marquis handed over the words.The poet obeys.When he helped her out of the car, he could feel her little hands trembling.Go in and pass another order. The room is the rectangular dining room of the inn.A rectangular oak table occupies almost the entire area.The burly man sat down on a chair near the head of the table.The young lady slumped down in a chair against the wall, looking very tired.David stood aside, thinking about how to say goodbye in a clever and graceful manner, and continued on the road. My lord, said the innkeeper, with a deep bow, if I had known you were coming, I should have prepared to entertain you.Now there is only wine and cold meat, and maybe

The candle, said the Marquis, spreading his fat fingers in his characteristic gesture.Yes, yes, my lord.The innkeeper brought half a dozen candles, lit them, and put them on the table. We still have a barrel of burgundy red wine, I wonder if my lord would like to try it for my sake Candles, His Excellency said, spreading his fingers. Honor life.Do it right away.I'll go right away, my lord.A dozen more candles were lit in the hall.The Marquis's burly figure filled the chairs to the full.He was swathed in black from head to toe, with only the cuffs and collar frills being snow white.Even his blade and scabbard are black.There was a hint of sarcasm in his expression.The mustache is upturned, almost meeting the mocking eyes.

The young lady sat there, not moving a muscle.David could see clearly now that she was very young, and there was a kind of sad and moving beauty in her body.The rich voice of the Marquis roused him from his contemplation of her forlorn beauty. May I have your name?What are you doing? davidMinho.poet.The Marquis' beard curves upward, closer to the eyes. What do you do for a living? I'm a shepherd too, tending my father's flock, David replied, head held high, but a blush came over his face. Young shepherd and poet, obey what fate has for you tonight.The lady's name is Lucy.Devanes, my niece.She was of noble birth, with an income of ten thousand francs a year by inheritance.As for her charm, you just have to judge for yourself.If these conditions can move your shepherd's heart, you only need to say yes, and she will become your wife immediately.Don't interrupt me.Tonight, I will take her to Comte.Dwellmore Manor, whom she had promised to marry.The guests were all present, and the abbe was there, waiting to consummate the match of rank and wealth.But in front of the altar, this usually gentle and gentle lady suddenly rushed towards me like a leopard, rebellious and furious, and slandered the marriage contract I had made for her, leaving the priest dumbfounded.I swore to God on the spot that she had to marry the first man we met when we left the estate.Whether it's a prince, a charcoal burner, or a thief, she has to marry.And you, the shepherd, are the first man.Miss must be married tonight.If I don't marry you, I will marry another one.Give you ten minutes to consider whether you want to or not.Don't bother me with questions or nonsense.Only ten minutes, shepherd; the time will come soon.

The Marquis tapped the table with his white tender fingers like a drum.He didn't say anything more, and waited calmly, as if the doors and windows of the big courtyard had been closed tightly to prevent outsiders from entering.David wanted to say something, but the Marquis' attitude tied his tongue.He had no choice but to stand beside the young lady and bow. Miss, he said.Surprised to find that in the presence of such elegance and beauty, he can speak with such smooth flow, you have heard, I am a shepherd.Sometimes I also dream of being a poet.If love of beauty is the test of a poet, then my dream has grown stronger now.Can I be of service to you, miss?

The young woman raised her head, her dry eyes were sad and moving.His frank, spirited face was dignified by the weight of the adventure; his figure was strong and erect; his blue eyes streamed with sympathy; Needing all this suddenly melted her, and tears welled up in her eyes. Sir, she said in a low voice, you can see your sincerity and kindness.He is my uncle, my father's brother, the only relative I have now.He loved my mother and hated me because I looked like her.I feel scared just looking at his face, and I never dared to disobey him before.But tonight he is going to marry me to a man three times my age.Forgive me, sir, for bringing you into this grievance.Of course you won't suddenly agree to marry me under his pressure.But I would at least thank you for your generosity.No one has spoken to me in a long time. The poet now has more than generosity in his eyes.He must have been a poet, for Yvonne had been forgotten; the fresh elegance of this lovely, newly-acquainted beauty charmed him.The slight fragrance wafting from her body made him feel springy.He looked at her tenderly.And she, hungry for his tenderness. Only ten minutes, David said, to do what would have taken me years to accomplish.I would never say that I pity you, miss; that would be a lie.I love you.I haven't had a chance to woo you yet, but let me save you from this tyrant, and love may follow.I am confident in the future and will not be a shepherd forever.Now, I will love you with all my heart and ease the pain of your life.Will you entrust your destiny to me, miss? Oh, you give yourself only out of pity. Out of love.Time is running out, miss. You will regret it and look down on me in the future. My future is to live for your happiness, and to make myself worthy of you. Her slender hands reached out from her coat and burrowed into his palm.I give you my life, she said, panting, and love may not be so far away as you think.promise him.Just get rid of the magic of his eyes and I'll forget the past. David walked over and stood in front of the Marquis.The black body moved, and mocking eyes glanced at the big wall clock. Two minutes left.A sheep herder actually spends eight minutes considering whether he would like to accept a bride with both good looks and wealth!Shepherd, tell me, would you like to marry this young lady?Standing there proudly, David said, "Miss has condescended to marry me, and it is my great honor." Well said!The Marquis said, you have a genius for courtship, Master Shepherd.It's not bad for Miss to meet you, otherwise she might get some other worse lottery.Now, as long as the church and God don't make trouble, we're going to get this thing over with as soon as possible. He smacked the table with the hilt of his sword.The owner of the store came over, his legs trembling, and brought more candles, knowing that your lord had some strange ideas.Get a priest, said the Marquis, priest.understand?I'll give you ten minutes to get a priest to come here, or The innkeeper dropped the candle and went away. The priest came, sleepy and frightened.He proclaimed David.Minho and Lucy.The Devanes were officially married, pocketed the gold bars thrown by the Marquis, and shuffled out into the night. Bring the wine, ordered the Marquis, spreading his ominous fingers towards his master.After the wine was brought, he said, "Pour the wine."In the candlelight he stood at the end of the table like a black mountain of malevolence and conceit.His eyes turned to his niece, with a fierce gleam, as if the remembrance of an old relationship had been transformed into a murderous plan. Monsieur Minho, said he, raising his glass, I'll drink it when I'm done: you're married to her, and she's going to make you miserable all your life.In her bones, she was doomed to keep telling big lies, killing and arson.She will bring you shame and sorrow.Her eyes, skin, and mouth were soaked with the devil attached to her, and she was even willing to grovel to seduce a mere redneck.Mr. Poet, this is your hope of prosperity.cheers!Miss, I have finally got rid of you as a burden.The Marquis drank the wine.At this time, the girl let out a scream, as if she was suddenly injured.David picked up the cup, took three steps forward, and stood directly opposite the Marquis.There was nothing like a shepherd in his manner. Just now, he said calmly, you think you think highly of me by calling me sir.Now that Miss and I are married, you and I are related, and we are closer in status, so I am qualified to be equal to you in a small matter.May I? Yes, sheep herder, mocked the Marquis. Then, said David, pouring wine into those mocking eyes, perhaps you will stoop to a duel with me. With a curse, His Excellency the Marquis burst into fury, and the airflow like a horn came suddenly.He jerked his sword out of its black scabbard, and shouted to the hesitant shopkeeper: "Bring the sword, to the fool!"He turned to the lady, let out a sneer that chilled her heart, and said: Miss, you hurt me so much.It seems that I have to marry you and make you a widow in the same night. I can't fight swords, David said.Confessing this in front of his wife, his face turned red. I don't know how to compare swords, said the Marquis imitating his tone, it is not necessary to compare oak sticks like a villager?Well, François, get the guns! The squire drew two large polished pistols from their holsters, emblazoned with silver emblems.The Marquis grabbed it and threw it over, and it fell on the table beside David.Standing on the other side of the table, the Marquis said loudly that the sheep herders must also be able to pull the trigger.Few shepherds were lucky enough to die under the gun of Bopeduis. The shepherd and the marquis stood facing each other across the long table.The shop owner was trembling with fright, gestured a few times, and stammered: Sir, for Jesus' sake, don't do this in my shop!Don't see the blood, that will drive away my customers The marquis' eyes were murderous, and the innkeeper's tongue was paralyzed. coward!Lord Bopeduis cried, don't grind your teeth there.Give us the password if you can. The store owner thumped and knelt on the ground.He couldn't speak, he couldn't even make a sound.However, he gestured a few times, as if begging, for his shop and customers, please don't use force. I'll give the order, said the lady, articulate.She approached David and gave him a sweet kiss.Her eyes were shining brightly, and her cheeks were regenerated with vermilion.She stood with her back to the wall, and the two men raised their pistols and waited for her to count. Two shots were fired almost simultaneously, and the candle flickered only once.The Marquis stood smiling, his left fingers spread out on the edge of the table.Still standing erect, David turned his head slowly, his eyes searching for his wife.Then the coat slid off him and he, too, collapsed on the floor, completely broken. The widowed lady uttered a little cry of despair, and ran to bend over him.She found the wound, and then looked up, the original sadness on her face.Shot through his heart, she murmured, ah, his heart. Come on, said the marquis in his deep voice, get out and get into the carriage!Before dawn, I will let you go.You have to marry again, to a living one, just tonight.Marry the next one you meet, be it a lady, a robber, or a bumpkin.If I can't meet anyone on the road, I'll marry the bitch who opens the door for me.Get out and get in the car.The Marquis looked furious, tall and dignified. The lady rewrapped her coat and entered the mystery.The squires put away their pistols.All the people went out and got into the waiting carriages outside.The sound of the rolling wheels echoed through the sleeping village.At the Silver Goblet Inn, the proprietor, rubbing his hands, was bewildered, and bent over the head of the slain poet; the flames of twenty-four candles flickered on the table. right fork The road stretched end to end for three miles, and then became a mystery.It intersects another wider road at right angles.David stood at the fork, hesitated for a while, and then stepped on the right fork. Where the road led, he did not know, but he resolved to stay away from Villenoy that night.He walked a mile and passed a large estate.It can be seen that the manor has only entertained guests not long ago.Every window was lighted; the wheels of guests' cars criss-crossed the wide stone path that led to the gate. After another three miles, David was tired.He rested and slept for a while on a pine tree by the side of the road, using a branch instead of a bed.Then he stood up and continued on the unknown road. In this way, he walked on the road for five days, sleeping on the fragrant bed of nature or on the haystack beside the farmhouse, eating the white bread generously donated by the farmers, drinking the stream water or the small food offered by the shepherd boy. cup. At last he crossed a bridge and came to the smiling city that had buried or crowned more poets than anywhere else in the world.The voice of the city of Paris can be heard faintly.It was a buzzing mixture of voices, footsteps, and wheels, full of life, as if beckoning to him.His breathing couldn't help but become rapid. He walked a little further, came to the eaves of an old house in the Rue de la Conti, paid for the number, sat down on a wooden chair, and began to write poems.This street once lived in famous families, but now it is crowded with run-down and run-down families. The houses on the street are tall and big. Although the damage is serious, the noble style still exists.Most of the houses are empty except for dust and spiders.At night, the only sounds to be heard are the clashing of irons and the yelling and cursing of noisy people going from door to door looking for shops.The deep mansions of the upper class in the past have now become rancid and dilapidated places to hide filth and evil practices.But David found that the rent in this area was worthy of his poor pocket.He worked day and night at his desk between pen and paper. One afternoon, after shopping for food, he returned to the humble house, bringing back some bread, curds and a bottle of low-alcohol wine.On the stairs, he met, rather by chance, a young woman who was sitting on the stairs to catch her breath.The beauty of her beauty is beyond the reach of even the poet's pen.The loose, dark coat was open, revealing the colorful pajamas underneath.Her eyes shifted unpredictably with every slight change of thought.In the blink of an eye they can go from being round and innocent like a child to being slender and cunning like a gypsy.With one hand, she lifted her pajamas, revealing a pair of high-heeled, untied shoes, scattered there.She is as beautiful as an angel, and it is not her job to condescend, it is her right to cast spells and command!Perhaps she had seen David approaching and sat there waiting for him to help. Oh, sir, forgive her for taking up the corridor, but look at those shoes!Damn shoes!Hi!This shoelace will come off.Oh, I hope you don't mind the trouble, sir, please excuse me! The poet's fingers trembled as he tied the awkward shoelace.After tying it, he wanted to escape as soon as possible, deeply aware of the danger of her existence.But her eyes became gypsy-like and narrow and cunning, and he couldn't move.He leaned on the banister, the bottle of wine in his hand. It's very kind of you, she said, with a smile, Excuse me, sir lives in this house too? yes ma'am.I think so, madam. Live on the third floor? no ma'am.live higher. The madam moved her fingers, showing a slight hint of impatience.please forgive.I really shouldn't ask this question.Please forgive me sir.It would be inappropriate for me to ask where sir lives. Ma'am, please don't say that.I live in Forget it, forget it, don't tell me.I know it's wrong.It's just that I am very interested in this house, including everything in it.This used to be my home.I often come here, dreaming of reliving yesterday's happiness.Believe what I say is true? Just let me tell you, because you don't need to explain, stammered the poet, I live in a small room at the corner of the stairs on the top floor. Is it the front one?asked the lady, turning her head to one side. It's the one at the back, ma'am.Madame sighed, relieved. Then I will detain you no more, sir,' she said, round-eyed and innocent, and take good care of my house.Oh, only its memory is mine.Goodbye and thank you for your hospitality. She went, leaving only a smile and a faint fragrance.David sleepwalked up the stairs.But he still woke up from the dream, and the smile and fragrance lingered on him all the time, and never really left since then.This woman whom he knew nothing inspired him to write love poems of beauty, odes of love at first sight, verses of curly hair, and sampas of slippery feet. . [Note] Shang Lai style: the sonnet. He must have been a sort of poet, for Yvonne had been forgotten; the slender beauty of his new acquaintance fascinated him with her freshness.The delicate fragrance from her body filled him with a wonderful feeling. One night, in a room on the third floor of the same house, there were three people gathered around a table.There was no other furniture in the room except a table, three chairs, and a lighted candle on the table.One of the three was tall and dressed in black.His face was full of mockery and self-importance, and his upturned mustache almost touched his mocking eyes.The second person is a lady, young and beautiful.Sometimes her eyes are like the eyes of a child, round and innocent; sometimes they are like the eyes of a gypsy, long and full of deceit.Now her eyes were sharp and ambitious, like those of all plotters.The third person is a man of practical work, a fighter, a bold and fierce swordsman, full of fire and fortitude.The other two called him Captain Drolles. The man punched the table, suppressed his anger and said: Do it tonight.Tonight, while he was going to mass in the middle of the night.I'm tired of plotting to no avail.I'm tired of signals, ciphers, secret meetings and code words.Let's be openly traitors.If France needs to get rid of him, let's kill him openly, without setting any traps to get him hooked.Do it tonight, that's it.I do what I say.I will do it myself.Tonight, while he was going to mass in the middle of the night. The lady gave him a gentle look.A woman, however accustomed to plotting and murdering, cannot but stand in awe of such ordinary courage.The tall man stroked his upturned mustache. Dear Captain, he said in a deep voice, moistening his voice habitually, this time I think of you.Waiting will get you nowhere.We have enough palace guards to ensure that this plan is foolproof. Do it this evening, repeated Captain Drolles, again at the boxing table, as I said, Marquis, I will do it with my own hands. But, the big man said softly, we still have a problem to deal with.We have to send a letter to our own people in the court and make an appointment with them.Our strongest men must follow the royal carriage.At this time, where can I find a messenger to sneak to the south gate of the palace?Reeb was on duty there, and as long as the letter was delivered to him, it would be done. I have come to deliver the letter, said the lady. You send, Countess?asked the Marquis, raising his eyebrows.We understand your dedication, but listen to me!said the lady sharply, with her hands on the table, that in the attic of this house lived a young man from the country, as innocent and gentle as the lambs he tended in the country.Two or three times I met him on the stairs, and I asked him about it, fearing that he lived too close to our usual meeting place.As long as I want, he will absolutely listen to me.He writes poetry in the attic, and maybe he often dreams of me.He will do as I say.Tell him to deliver the letter to the court. The Marquis rose from his chair and bowed.You have not let me finish, countess, he said, I would have said: Your devotion is very great, but your wit and charm are more than that. While the planners were busily discussing, David was embellishing his lines of poetry to lovers of stairs.He heard a timid knock at the door, opened it, and was surprised to find her standing there, breathing fast, as if in distress, with eyes as round and innocent as a child's. Sir, she said breathlessly, I come to you in trouble.I believe you are sincere and reliable, and I can't find anyone else to help.I've come here through many streets, among haughty men.My uncle was captain of the guard at the king's court.I must find someone to bring him the letter as soon as possible.I hope Miss, David interrupted her, his eyes sparkling and full of desire to serve her, your wish is my wing.Tell me how to get in touch with him.The lady stuffed him with a sealed letter. Go to the south gate and remember that the south gate told the guard there that the mountain eagle had left its nest.They will let you pass.Then you come to the south entrance of the palace.Repeat the password and give the letter to the person who answered the code correctly: let him attack as long as he wants.That's the joint code, sir, taught by my uncle.Now the country is in turmoil, and someone is plotting against the king, so those who cannot answer the password at night cannot enter the palace.Please sir give him this letter and let my mother see him before she closes her eyes. Give me the letter, David said impatiently, but how can you go back to the street alone at this late hour?let me No, no, let's go.Every second is as precious as a gem, said the lady, eyes long and sly as a gypsy's, and thank you for your kindness at another time. The poet put the letter into his chest, and went downstairs in three steps at a time.After he was gone, the lady returned to the room below. The Marquis' expressive eyebrows questioned her. He went, she said, as quick and silly as his lambs, to deliver the letter. Captain Drolles' fist shook the table again.hell!he yelled, I put the gun down!I dare not give the gun to others. Take this one, said the Marquis, pulling out from under his coat a big, shiny one, with silver studs, nothing better than that.But be careful to keep it. With my coat of arms and crest on it, I'm already a suspect.I must leave Paris tonight and hurry back to the estate.Must arrive before dawn.Goodbye, Countess. The Marquis blew out the candles.The lady put on her coat, and went downstairs quietly with the two men, joining the wandering crowd on the narrow sidewalk of the Rue de la Conti.David sprinted like a fly.At the south gate of the king's house a halberd was pointed at his breast, but he turned it away with one word: The eagle has left the nest.It's okay, brother, said the doorman, let's go.At the entrance stairs to the south of the palace, several guards ran to arrest him, but they stopped as if possessed by a demon as soon as they heard the pass order.One of them stepped forward and said, as long as he would, there was a commotion among the guards, and a stern, military-looking man suddenly pushed his way through the crowd and snatched the letter from David. Come with me, he said, leading David into the hall.He opened the letter and read it, then waved to the passing man in the uniform of an infantry officer, Captain Tedlow, and seized the guards at the south entrance and the south gate.Replace it with someone we know is loyal to the royal family.He said to David again: Come with me. He led David through corridors and antechambers into a spacious room.In the room was a melancholy-looking figure, darkly dressed, sitting in thought on a large leather upholstered chair.The guard said to the man: I told you, my lord, that the court is as full of traitors and moles as the sewer is full of rats.Your Majesty thought it was just my wild imagination.But because of their acquiescence, this person has been rushing to your door.He brought a letter, which I intercepted.I brought him here to prove to you that my misgivings were not unfounded. I'll ask him, said the king, stirring in his chair.He looked at David, his eyelids drooping, his eyes glazed over with an opaque film.where are you from?asked the king.Of the village of Vilnois, in the Eure Loire, your Majesty.what are you doing in parisI want to be a poet, my lord.What to do in Vilnoir?Look after my father's flock. The king moved again, and the membranes from his eyes came off.Oh, herding sheep in the fields?Yes, Your Majesty. You live in the fields.In the morning you go out to breathe the cool air and lie on the grass under the hedge.The sheep are looking for grass on the hillside; you drink from the stream, eat sweet brown bread under the shade of the tree, and of course you can hear the thrush singing in the woods.Am I right, Shepherd? That is true, sire, replied David, sighing, and I can still hear the bees gathering honey on the flowers, and sometimes the grape gatherers singing on the hills.Yes, yes, said the King, a little impatiently, he might hear them singing, but he could certainly hear the thrush.They often whistle in the woods, don't they? Earl | Loire's thrush sings the sweetest.I wrote some poems and tried to reproduce the songs they sang. Can you memorize these poems?asked the King, eagerly, I also heard the thrush sing long ago.If anyone could understand exactly what they sang, that would be worth more than a kingdom.In the evening you drive the sheep back to the pen, and then sit down in peace and serenity and eat your bread with joy.Can you recite what you wrote, Shepherd? I'll recite it for you, my lord, said David, with reverent fervor. Your Majesty, a stern voice interrupts his recitation, allow me to ask the limerick a question or two.Time is running out.I must ask your forgiveness, my lord, if my concern for your safety offends you. The proven loyalty of the Duke of Dormer, said the King, will not make me angry.He retreated into the chair again, and the film over his eyes closed again. First, said the prince, I will read you the letter he brought. Tonight is the birthday of the crown prince.If he went to midnight mass, as was his custom, to pray for the soul of his son, the eagles would strike, in the Via Esplanade.If he was going to mass tonight, he would turn on a red light on the tower in the southwest corner of the palace to attract the eagle's attention. Country bumpkin, snapped the prince, you heard what I read.Who asked you to deliver the letter? My lord, said David, very sincerely, I will tell you.A lady asked me to deliver a letter.She said her mother was ill and she wanted to send a letter to ask her uncle to visit her.I don't understand the meaning of the letter, but I can swear that she is beautiful and kind. Tell me what this woman looks like, ordered the Duke, and tell me how you fell into her trap. Speaking of her looks, David said with a gentle smile, it was tantamount to letting words work miracles.Well, she is light and dark personified.She is as slender as a willow, and as graceful as a willow.Her eyes were ever-changing, round for a moment, half-closed again as the sun peeked out between two clouds.Wherever she went, heaven followed; when she went, chaos followed, and the smell of hawthorn blossoms filled the air.She appeared to me at 29 Rue de la Conte. This is the very house we have been watching, and the duke, turning to the king, said that thanks to the poet's tongue we have a portrait of the notorious Countess Cooperdeau. Your Majesty, my lord duke, said David eagerly, I hope my clumsy words do not spoil her beauty.I looked carefully into the lady's eyes.I'd bet my life she's an angel, no matter what that letter is. The Duke watched him intently.I want to use you as an experiment, he said slowly, tonight, you will wear the king's clothes, ride in his carriage, and go to midnight mass in person.Accept this test? David smiled.I looked into her eyes carefully, he said, and I had proof from her eyes.You can do whatever you want. At 11:30, Duke Dormer took his cronies and lit a red light in a window of a room in the most southwestern corner of the palace.At ten minutes to twelve, David was dressed like a king from head to toe, with his head hanging under his coat, leaning on the Duke of Dormer, and walking slowly from the royal family to the waiting carriage.The Duke helped him into the car and closed the door.The carriage sped toward the cathedral. In a house on the corner of the Rue Esplanade, Captain Tedlow and twenty men stood on guard, ready to deal a sudden and powerful blow to the murderers should they appear. However, for unknown reasons, the planners seem to have slightly modified the plan.The royal carriage drove up the Avenue Christopher, a block away from the Avenue Esplanade, when Captain Drors rushed out, followed by his gang of king killers, and rushed towards the carriage.The guards in the car were taken aback by the early attack, but they still got out of the car and fought bravely.The sound of fierce battle attracted Captain Tedlow's team.They galloped through the streets to come for reinforcements.However, before they arrived, the furious Captain Drors had knocked open the door of the king's carriage, put the barrel of his gun on the black body inside the carriage, and fired. At this time, reinforcements from the Wang family had arrived, and the street was full of shouts, steel guns rattling, and startled horses running around.On the cushions lay the poor dummy king-poet, killed by a single bullet from the pistol of Monsieur de Beaupedois. main road The road stretched end to end for three miles, and then became a mystery.It intersects another wider road at right angles.大衛站在岔口，一陣猶豫，然後坐在路邊休息起來。 這些路通向何方他並不知道。每條路都好像各自通向一個充滿機遇和危險的大世界。他坐在那兒，眼睛突然盯上一顆明亮的星，那顆他和伊馮娜為他們自己命名的星。這使他想起了伊馮娜，並開始懷疑自己的出走太唐突。僅僅因為伊馮娜跟他之間發生了幾句口角，他就該離開她、離開家麼？愛情如此脆弱，甚至會在嫉妒愛情的證明面前敗下陣來？早晨的到來總能治癒晚上有過的小小心痛。他還有的是時間回家，維爾諾瓦全村的人都還在甜蜜的酣睡之中，根本弄不清他的事兒呢。他的心屬於伊馮娜；在自己的家鄉他可以寫他的詩，找到他的幸福。 大衛站起來，抖落身上的不安和誘使他出走的瘋狂之情。等他沿老路回到維爾諾瓦的時候，出去飄蕩的願望已經一去不返。他經過羊圈，羊兒們聽見他深夜的腳步聲，急沖沖擁過來，焦躁地咩咩直叫，那熟悉的聲音溫暖了他的心。他輕手輕腳鑽進自己的小房間，躺了下來，十分慶幸他在那天晚上掙脫了陌生的道路帶來的苦痛。 他對女人的心真是瞭如指掌！第二天晚上伊馮娜來到路邊的水井。那兒是年輕人經常聚會聽神甫布道的地方。她的眼角在四下裡搜尋大衛的影子。雖然緊抿的嘴唇看上去仍然怒氣未消。他看到這副表情，勇敢地走上前去，從她嘴中得到寬恕，然後，在兩人一起回家的路上，又得到一個吻。 三個月之後他們結婚了。大衛的父親通情達理，又富裕寬綽，為他們舉辦了一個方圓三英哩都叫得響的婚禮。兩個年輕人在村子裡都逗人喜愛。街上賀喜的人排成了隊，還在草地上跳起了舞。他們從德魯克斯請來雜技和提線木偶演員來為客人助興。 一年過去，大衛的父親死了。羊群和茅舍傳給了他。他已經有了全村最賢慧的妻子。伊馮娜的奶桶和水壺擦得錚亮。噢，沒得說的！太陽光下它們的亮光刺得你睜不開眼睛。還有她整理的院落，花床收拾得規規矩矩，花兒長得歡欣活潑，看見它們你的視力又得到恢復。你還得聽聽她的歌聲，清脆悠揚，可以傳至格魯諾大伯鐵匠鋪旁的那顆重瓣板栗樹。 可是有一天，大衛從關了很久的抽屜裡抽出紙來，又開始咬起鉛筆頭來了。春天重新到來，感動了他的心。他肯定算得上詩人，因為現在伊馮娜幾乎已經被忘記。絕妙、清新的大地之美以其特有的魅力和風雅迷住了他。樹林和草地散發芳香，讓他激動不已。以前他每天趕著羊群出去，到了晚上又把它們安全帶回。而現在，他躺在灌木叢下，在紙片上拼詞填句。他鑽在詩行之中，羊兒四散流落，狼群乘虛而入，冒險從林中出來，偷走他的羊羔。 大衛的詩篇越來越多，羊兒則越來越少。伊馮娜漸漸消瘦，脾氣變得急躁，話語變得刻薄。她的鍋鍋壺壺也變得暗淡，可是眼睛卻犀利刺目。她對詩人抱怨道，他的疏忽使羊兒數量減少，也給家庭帶來悲哀。大衛雇了個男孩來守羊群，自己鎖在茅舍頂上的小房間，寫更多的詩。小男孩天生就是做詩人的料，但又不能通過寫作來發洩情感，多半的時間都在睡夢中度過。狼群不失時機，發現詩歌和睡眠原來同出一轍，所以羊群不斷變小。伊馮娜的脾氣也以同等的速度變壞。有時她站在院子中間，對著大衛高高的窗戶破口大罵，叫罵聲可以傳至格魯諾大伯鐵匠鋪旁的那顆重瓣板栗樹。 帕皮諾老先生，心地善良、明察秋毫、好管閒事的公證人，看出了這一切，因為凡是他的鼻子所指之處，沒有任何東西逃得過他的眼睛。他找到大衛，鼓了一大包子氣地說：米尼奧朋友，是我在你父親的結婚證書上蓋的章。如果不得不為他兒子破產的文件作公證，我會感到非常痛苦。而你正在走向破產。作為一個老朋友，我要說幾句。你仔細聽著。看得出來，你已經醉心於寫詩。我在德魯克斯有個朋友，布裡爾先生喬治．布裡爾。他住的房子堆滿了書籍。他學識淵博，每年都要去巴黎，自己也寫了很多書。他能告訴你酒窖最早是什麼時候造的，人怎樣為星星定名，為什麼鵒鳥長著細嘴殼。詩的意義和形式之於他，就如羊兒的咩鳴之於你，一樣的明白無誤。我寫封信你帶去找他，把你的詩也帶去給他讀讀。然後你會知道是該繼續寫詩，還是該把注意力轉向你的妻子和正事。 請寫信吧，大衛說，很遺憾你沒早點兒說起這事。 第二天早晨太陽升起時，大衛已經踏上到德魯克斯的路，腋下挾著那卷寶貴的詩篇。中午，他來到布裡爾先生門前，拭去腳上的塵埃。智者拆開帕皮諾先生的信，如太陽吸收水分一般，通過熒熒閃亮的眼鏡吸透了信的內容。他領大衛進了書房，在書海中騰出一個小島讓他坐下。 布裡爾先生做事一絲不苟。面對一指厚參差不齊捲成一團的詩稿，他甚至沒有絲毫退縮之意。他把詩卷攤在膝上，開始讀起來。他不疏漏一字一詞，一頭扎進詩稿中，如同一隻蛀蟲鑽進桃殼內，努力尋找果仁。 大衛坐在一旁，左也不是右也不是，在如此浩瀚的書海裹捲下驚顫。書海的波濤在他耳邊咆哮。在這個海裡航行，他既無航海圖又無指南針。他心想，世界上有一半的人肯定都在寫書。 布裡爾先生一直鑽完詩的最後一頁，然後摘下眼鏡，用手帕擦了擦鏡片。 我的老朋友帕皮諾身體好嗎？he asks.與平常一鞁健康，大衛說。你有多少隻羊，米尼奧先生？三百零九隻，昨天才數過。羊群的運氣不好。原來有八百五十隻，可一直減少到現在這個數。 你已經成家立業，過得也很舒服。羊兒給你帶來許多東西。你趕著羊群去田野，呼吸新鮮的空氣，吃甜美的麵包。你的職責僅僅是提高警惕，躺在大自然的懷抱裡，聽林子裡畫眉的鳴囀。Am I right?說得對，大衛說。 讀完了你的詩，布裡爾先生繼續說，眼睛掃視著書海，似乎在地平線上尋找船帆，請看窗外遠處，米尼奧先生。告訴我，你在那顆樹上看見了什麼？ 我看見一隻烏鴉，大衛說，直愣愣地。正是這隻鳥，布裡爾先生說，在我想逃避職責的時候它能幫助我。你熟悉這隻鳥，米尼奧先生。他就是空氣這個哲學家。他因為順從天命而感到幸福。沒有誰像他那麼喜氣洋洋，心滿意足，眼睛充滿奇思異想，腳步輕盈飄渺。他想要什麼，大地都為他生產。他的羽毛沒有黃鸝鳥那麼漂亮，但他從不為這個傷心。你也聽到過自然賜予他的音符，米尼奧先生，對嗎？難道你以為夜鶯比他更幸福？ 大衛站起身來。烏鴉在樹上發出刺耳的哇哇聲。謝謝你，布裡爾先生，他慢吞吞地說，在所有這些哇哇聲中難道就選不出一個夜鶯的音符？ 如果有，我絕不可能漏掉，布裡爾先生說，嘆了一口氣，我每個字都讀過。別寫你的詩啦，小夥子；你就安心過牧羊人富有詩意的生活就夠啦。 謝謝你，大衛再次說道，我這就回去照料羊群。如果你願意和我一起吃飯，書人說，又能忘掉失敗的痛苦，我可以給你細細說來。 算了，詩人說，我得回到田野去，對著我的羊群哇哇叫。 回維爾諾瓦的路上，他艱難跋涉，腋下挾著他的詩。回到村子，他拐進一家叫齊格勒開的商店。他是個猶太人，亞美尼亞來的，凡是弄得到手的東西他都賣。 朋友，大衛說，森林裡的狼群跑到山上來騷擾我的羊仔。我得買枝槍來保護它們。你有什麼槍賣？ 今天我生意不好，米尼奧朋友，齊格勒說，雙手一攤，只好便宜賣給你一枝，價格只是價值的十分之一。上個星期我剛從國王的經紀人那兒買來一大車東西。他又是在一次王室物品拍賣中搞到的。拍賣的是一個大貴族的莊園和財產我不知道他的頭銜他犯了弒君罪，被流放了。拍賣物中有幾把手槍精品。瞧這支，哇，簡直配得上王子用！賣給你只收四十法郎，米尼奧朋友，就算我少賺十塊吧。這兒還有枝火繩槍，也許 這支手槍就行了，大衛說，同時把四十法郎甩在櫃臺上，裝子彈沒有？ 我這就裝，齊格勒說，再加十法郎，就可以附帶一包火藥和子彈。 大衛把槍插在外衣下面，回到茅舍。伊馮娜不在家。最近以來，她喜歡到鄰居家串門。但廚房裡灶爐仍生著火。大衛打開灶門，把詩稿塞進去，丟在煤上。它們熊熊燃燒時，還在煙道裡發出唱歌的刺耳的聲音。烏鴉的歌！said the poet. 他回到閣樓上的小房間，關好門。村子裡非常寧靜，有十來個人聽到了那支大號手槍發出的巨響。他們一齊擁到樓上。正是這兒冒起的煙引起了他們的注意。 男人們把詩人的屍體平放在床上，笨手笨腳地把屍體收拾乾淨，以掩上可憐的黑烏鴉被撕裂的羽毛。女人們嘰嘰喳喳，道不盡無限的憐憫之情。有幾個還跑去通報了伊馮娜。 帕皮諾先生好事的鼻子也知道出了事。他是最先來到現場中的一個。他拈起手槍，仔細審視嵌銀手把，臉上的表情混雜著對槍飾的鑒賞和對死者的哀悼。 槍柄上刻的是，他輕聲對神甫解釋道，博佩杜依斯侯爵大人的紋章和飾徽。