雙語·邦斯舅舅 三十五、懂畫的人并不都在美術(shù)院

XXXV

No life could be more regular; the old man rose as soon as it was light, breakfasted on bread rubbed with a clove of garlic, and ate no more food until dinner-time. Dinner, a meal frugal enough for a convent, he took at home. All the forenoons he spent among his treasures, walking up and down the gallery where they hung in their glory. He would dust everything himself, furniture and pictures; he never wearied of admiring. Then he would go downstairs to his daughter, drink deep of a father's happiness, and start out upon his walks through Paris, to attend sales or visit exhibitions and the like. If Elie Magus found a great work of art under the right conditions, the discovery put new life into the man; here was a bit of sharp practice, a bargain to make, a battle of Marengo to win. He would pile ruse on ruse to buy the new sultana as cheaply as possible. Magus had a map of Europe on which all great pictures were marked; his co-religionists in every city spied out business for him, and received a commission on the purchase. And then, what rewards for all his pains!

The two lost Raphaels so earnestly sought after by Raphael lovers are both in his collection. Elie Magus owns the original portrait of Giorgione's Mistress, the woman for whom the painter died; the so-called originals are merely copies of the famous picture, which is worth five hundred thousand francs, according to its owner's estimation. This Jew possesses Titian's masterpiece, an Entombment painted for Charles V, sent by the great man to the great Emperor with a holograph letter, now fastened down upon the lower part of the canvas. And Magus has yet another Titian, the original sketch from which all the portraits of Philip II were painted. His remaining ninety-seven pictures are all of the same rank and distinction. Wherefore Magus laughs at our national collection, raked by the sunlight which destroys the fairest paintings, pouring in through panes of glass that act as lenses. Picture galleries can only be lighted from above; Magus opens and closes his shutters himself; he is as careful of his pictures as of his daughter, his second idol. And well the old picture-fancier knows the laws of the lives of pictures. To hear him talk, a great picture has a life of its own; it is changeable, it takes its beauty from the color of the light. Magus talks of his paintings as Dutch fanciers used to talk of their tulips; he will come home on purpose to see some one picture in the hour of its glory, when the light is bright and clean.

And Magus himself was a living picture among the motionless figures on the wall—a little old man, dressed in a shabby overcoat, a silk waistcoat, renewed twice in a score of years, and a very dirty pair of trousers, with a bald head, a face full of deep hollows, a wrinkled, callous skin, a beard that had a trick of twitching its long white bristles, a menacing pointed chin, a toothless mouth, eyes bright as the eyes of his dogs in the yard, and a nose like an obelisk—there he stood in his gallery smiling at the beauty called into being by genius. A Jew surrounded by his millions will always be one of the finest spectacles which humanity can give. Robert Medal, our great actor, cannot rise to this height of poetry, sublime though he is. Paris of all the cities of the world holds most of such men as Magus, strange beings with a strange religion in their heart of hearts. The London "eccentric" always finds that worship, like life, brings weariness and satiety in the end; the Parisian monomaniac lives cheerfully in concubinage with his crotchet to the last. Often shall you meet in Paris some Pons, some Elie Magus, dressed badly enough, with his face turned from the rising sun (like the countenance of the perpetual secretary of the Academie), apparently heeding nothing, conscious of nothing, paying no attention to shop-windows nor to fair passers-by, walking at random, so to speak, with nothing in his pockets, and to all appearance an equally empty head. Do you ask to what Parisian tribe this manner of man belongs? He is a collector, a millionaire, one of the most impassioned souls upon earth; he and his like are capable of treading the miry ways that lead to the police-court if so they may gain possession of a cup, a picture, or some such rare unpublished piece as Elie Magus once picked up one memorable day in Germany.

This was the expert to whom Remonencq with much mystery conducted La Cibot. Remonencq always asked advice of Elie Magus when he met him in the streets; and more than once Magus had lent him money through Abramko, knowing Remonencq's honesty. The Chaussee des Minimes is close to the Rue de Normandie, and the two fellow-conspirators reached the house in ten minutes.

You will see the richest dealer in curiosities, the greatest con-noisseur in Paris, Remonencq had said.

And Mme. Cibot, therefore, was struck dumb with amazement to be confronted with a little old man in a great-coat too shabby for Cibot to mend, standing watching a painter at work upon an old picture in the chilly room on the vast ground floor. The old man's eyes, full of cold feline malignance, were turned upon her, and La Cibot shivered.

What do you want, Remonencq? asked this person.

It is a question of valuing some pictures; there is nobody but you in Paris who can tell a poor tinker-fellow like me how much he may give when he has not thousands to spend, like you.

Where is it?

Here is the portress of the house where the gentleman lives; she does for him, and I have arranged with her—

Who is the owner?

M. Pons! put in La Cibot.

Don't know the name, said Magus, with an innocent air, bringing down his foot very gently upon his artist's toes.

Moret the painter, knowing the value of Pons' collection, had looked up suddenly at the name. It was a move too hazardous to try with any one but Remonencq and La Cibot, but the Jew had taken the woman's measure at sight, and his eye was as accurate as a jeweler's scales. It was impossible that either of the couple should know how often Magus and old Pons had matched their claws. And, in truth, both rabid amateurs were jealous of each other. The old Jew had never hoped for a sight of a seraglio so carefully guarded; it seemed to him that his head was swimming. Pons' collection was the one private collection in Paris which could vie with his own. Pons' idea had occurred to Magus twenty years later; but as a dealer-amateur the door of Pons' museum had been closed to him, as for Dusommerard. Pons and Magus had at heart the same jealousy. Neither of them cared about the kind of celebrity dear to the ordinary collector. And now for Elie Magus came his chance to see the poor musician's treasures! An amateur of beauty hiding in a boudoir or a stolen glance at a mistress concealed from him by his friend might feel as Elie Magus felt at that moment. La Cibot was impressed by Remonencq's respect for this singular person; real power, moreover, even when it cannot be explained, is always felt; the portress was supple and obedient, she dropped the autocratic tone which she was wont to use in her lodge and with the tenants, accepted Magus' conditions, and agreed to admit him into Pons' museum that very day. So the enemy was to be brought into the citadel, and a stab dealt to Pons' very heart. For ten years Pons had carried his keys about with him; he had forbidden La Cibot to allow any one, no matter whom, to cross his threshold; and La Cibot had so far shared Schmucke's opinions of bric-a-brac, that she had obeyed him. The good Schmucke, by speaking of the splendors as "chimcracks," and deploring his friend's mania, had taught La Cibot to despise the old rubbish, and so secured Pons' museum from invasion for many a long year.

When Pons took to his bed, Schmucke filled his place at the theatre and gave lessons for him at his boarding-schools. He did his utmost to do the work of two; but Pons' sorrows weighing heavily upon his mind, the task took all his strength. He only saw his friend in the morning, and again at dinnertime. His pupils and the people at the theatre, seeing the poor German look so unhappy, used to ask for news of Pons; and so great was his grief, that the indifferent would make the grimaces of sensibility which Parisians are wont to reserve for the greatest calamities. The very springs of life had been attacked, the good German was suffering from Pons' pain as well as from his own. When he gave a music lesson, he spent half the time in talking of Pons, interrupting himself to wonder whether his friend felt better to-day, and the little school-girls listening heard lengthy explanations of Pons' symptoms. He would rush over to the Rue de Normandie in the interval between two lessons for the sake of a quarter of an hour with Pons. When at last he saw that their common stock was almost exhausted, when Mme. Cibot (who had done her best to swell the expenses of the illness) came to him and frightened him; then the old music-master felt that he had courage of which he never thought himself capable—courage that rose above his anguish. For the first time in his life he set himself to earn money; money was needed at home. One of the school-girl pupils, really touched by their troubles, asked Schmucke how he could leave his friend alone. "Montemoiselle," he answered, with the sublime smile of those who think no evil, "ve haf Montame Zipod, ein dreasure, montemoiselle, ein bearl! Bons is nursed like ein brince."

So while Schmucke trotted about the streets, La Cibot was mistress of the house and ruled the invalid. How should Pons superintend his self-appointed guardian angel, when he had taken no solid food for a fortnight, and lay there so weak and helpless that La Cibot was obliged to lift him up and carry him to the sofa while she made the bed?

La Cibot's visit to Elie Magus was paid (as might be expected) while Schmucke breakfasted. She came in again just as the German was bidding his friend good-bye; for since she learned that Pons possessed a fortune, she never left the old bachelor; she brooded over him and his treasures like a hen. From the depths of a comfortable easy-chair at the foot of the bed she poured forth for Pons' delectation the gossip in which women of her class excel. With Machiavelian skill, she had contrived to make Pons think that she was indispensable to him; she coaxed and she wheedled, always uneasy, always on the alert.

三十五、懂畫的人并不都在美術(shù)院

老人的生活比誰都有規(guī)律。天一亮就起來，早餐只吃些大蒜跟面包。這一頓直要維持到吃晚飯的時(shí)候。晚飯是和大家一起吃的。食物的菲薄跟修道院的相仿。早上到中午那段時(shí)間，古怪的老頭兒在他陳列名畫的幾間屋子內(nèi)走來走去，把家具，圖畫，所有的東西，撣灰抹塵，永不厭倦地欣賞著；然后他下樓到女兒屋里，享受一下為父之樂；然后他上街，到巴黎各處去奔跑，看拍賣，看展覽會(huì)等等。遇到一件精品符合他的條件時(shí)，這家伙的生活就有了生氣：他有件事要鉤心斗角了，有一場(chǎng)馬倫哥的仗要打了[1]。他使盡詭計(jì)，非用極便宜的代價(jià)把新看中的妃子收入后宮不可?，敼潘褂兴臍W洲地圖，名作散布的地方都在圖上記載明白。他托各地的同道刺探消息，經(jīng)手買進(jìn)的時(shí)候送他們一筆傭金?；ㄟ@樣許多心血的確是有收獲的。

拉斐爾迷拼命尋訪的兩張不知下落的拉斐爾的畫，給瑪古斯弄到了。喬爾喬內(nèi)替他為之喪命的情婦[2]所畫的肖像，也在瑪古斯手上；外邊所謂的真跡其實(shí)都是臨本。據(jù)瑪古斯估計(jì)，他這一幅值到五十萬法郎。他又有一張?zhí)嵯銥椴槔砦迨喇嫷摹痘皆岫Y》，大畫家當(dāng)時(shí)還附了一封信給大皇帝，而現(xiàn)在這封親筆信就粘在畫的下角。他也有提香為菲利普二世畫許多肖像的第一幅稿圖。其余的九十七幅，畫品與聲名也都不相上下。有了這些寶物，難怪瑪古斯要笑我們的美術(shù)館了。他們讓陽光從窗里透進(jìn)來，損壞最美的作品，全不知玻璃窗的作用等于凹凸的鏡片。原來畫廊是只能從頂上取光的?，敼潘姑佬g(shù)館的護(hù)窗，都由他親自啟閉，照顧的周到像對(duì)他女兒一樣，那又是他的一寶！這嗜畫成癖的老人，的確懂得畫的奧妙。他認(rèn)為名作有它特殊的生活，每天都不同，而它的美是依賴光線的；他提到這些好像從前荷蘭人提到郁金香[3]；對(duì)每幅不同的畫，他有一定的鐘點(diǎn)去欣賞，因?yàn)樵谔鞖馇缋实娜兆永?，某幅畫只有某一個(gè)時(shí)間才放射異彩。

這矮小的老頭兒，穿著件粗呢大褂，上了十年的絲背心，滿是油膩的褲子，露著光禿的腦袋，凹下去的臉，微微抖動(dòng)的胡子，翹起的白須，兇狠的尖下巴，沒有牙齒的嘴，眼睛跟他的狗的一樣亮，有骨無肉的手，華表式的鼻子，全是皺痕而冰冷的皮膚，對(duì)著天才的創(chuàng)作欣然微笑：那在不活動(dòng)的圖畫中間不是一幅活的圖畫嗎！有三百萬家財(cái)烘托的一個(gè)猶太人，永遠(yuǎn)是人間最美的一景。就憑我們的名演員勞貝·曼達(dá)出神入化的演技[4]，也表現(xiàn)不出這種詩情畫意。像瑪古斯一類有所信仰的怪物，世界上以巴黎為最多。倫敦的怪物，對(duì)自己的癖好臨了會(huì)像對(duì)自己的生命一樣感到厭倦的；唯有巴黎的狂人精神上始終與他的怪癖融成一片。你可以在街上看到邦斯與埃里·瑪古斯之流，穿得非常寒酸，像法蘭西學(xué)院的常任秘書一樣心不在焉[5]，仿佛對(duì)什么都無所謂，對(duì)什么都沒有感覺，既不注意婦女，也不注意櫥窗，漫無目的地走著，口袋里空無所有，似乎腦子里也空無所有：你碰上這種人一定會(huì)奇怪他們是屬于哪一個(gè)部落的。哎，這些家伙原來是百萬富翁，是收藏家，是世界上最瘋魔的人，為了要弄到一只杯子，一幅畫，一件稀有的東西，不惜踏上輕罪法庭，像從前瑪古斯在德國(guó)一樣。

這便是雷蒙諾克很神秘地帶著西卜女人去求見的專家。雷蒙諾克每次在大街上遇到瑪古斯，總得請(qǐng)教一番。老猶太人也知道這個(gè)當(dāng)伙計(jì)出身的人老實(shí)可靠，常常由阿勃朗谷出面借錢給他。彌尼末街和諾曼底街近得很，兩個(gè)想發(fā)橫財(cái)?shù)耐h十分鐘就走到了。

“你可以見識(shí)到告老的古董商中最有錢的一個(gè)，巴黎最內(nèi)行的鑒賞家……”雷蒙諾克對(duì)他的同伴說。

西卜太太一看矮小的老頭兒穿著連西卜也不屑于修補(bǔ)的上裝，先就呆住了；隨后被他那雙像貓一樣冷靜而狡猾的眼睛一掃，她更覺得毛骨悚然。他在樓下冷冰冰的大廳內(nèi)，監(jiān)督一個(gè)畫家修整古畫。

“什么事啊，雷蒙諾克？”他問。

“有些畫要請(qǐng)你估價(jià)；巴黎只有你能告訴我，像我這樣賣銅器的窮小子，不像你那么家私成千成萬的，為那些畫可以出多少錢?！?/p>

“東西在哪兒？”

“這位便是貨主屋子里的門房，替那個(gè)先生打雜的，我已經(jīng)跟她講妥了……”

“貨主姓什么？”

“邦斯！”西卜女人搶著說。

“沒聽見過?！爆敼潘辜侔V假呆地回答，一邊輕輕地把修補(bǔ)古畫的人踩了一腳。

畫家莫萊是知道邦斯美術(shù)館的價(jià)值的，便突然抬起頭來。這種微妙的表情，只能用在雷蒙諾克與西卜女人前面。猶太人的眼睛好似稱金子的人的天平，一瞥之下已經(jīng)把看門女人掂過了斤兩。這一男一女當(dāng)然不知道邦斯與瑪古斯常常斗法。事實(shí)上，兩個(gè)奇狠無比的收藏家彼此都很眼紅。所以老猶太人一聽到邦斯二字就心中一動(dòng)，他從來不敢希望能踏進(jìn)一個(gè)守衛(wèi)如是嚴(yán)密的寶庫。巴黎唯有邦斯美術(shù)館能和瑪古斯美術(shù)館競(jìng)爭(zhēng)。猶太人采取邦斯的收藏辦法，比邦斯晚二十年；但因他是個(gè)兼做買賣的人，所以跟杜索末拉一樣是邦斯不招待的。而邦斯與瑪古斯，雙方都存著同樣嫉妒的心。一般家中有畫廊的人往往喜歡出名：他們兩個(gè)卻沒有這種虛榮?，敼潘挂茏屑?xì)瞧一瞧窮音樂家的精美的藏品，其愉快就好比一個(gè)好色的人有個(gè)朋友把美麗的情婦藏在一邊不讓看見，而有朝一日居然溜進(jìn)了她的上房。雷蒙諾克對(duì)這個(gè)怪人的尊敬，把西卜女人唬住了。凡是真正的力量，即使是不可解的，都有一股聲勢(shì)；看門女人在老頭兒面前不知不覺變得聽話了，柔和了。她不敢再拿出對(duì)付一般房客和她兩位先生的專橫的口氣，她接受了瑪古斯的條件，答應(yīng)當(dāng)天就帶他進(jìn)邦斯美術(shù)館。這一下可是把敵人引進(jìn)腹地，一刀扎入了邦斯的心窩。十年來邦斯老把鑰匙隨身帶著，告訴西卜女人誰也不讓進(jìn)去，她一向?qū)哦囊庖姾驮S?？说南嗤?，也就聽從了他的吩咐。因?yàn)槔蠈?shí)的德國(guó)人把寶物當(dāng)作小玩意兒，看著朋友著迷覺得可嘆；看門女人受他的影響，也瞧不起古董，所以邦斯的美術(shù)館十年工夫沒有被閑人闖入。

邦斯病倒以后，戲院和私塾方面都由許?？颂娲??？蓱z的德國(guó)人為了保住兩人的位置而包辦一切，只能在早上和吃晚飯的時(shí)候見到朋友。他痛苦之極，所有的精力都給雙份的工作消耗完了。女學(xué)生和戲院的同事，從他那兒知道了邦斯的病，看見可憐蟲愁眉不展，就常常問起邦斯的情形；而鋼琴家悲傷的程度，使那些不關(guān)痛癢的人也拉長(zhǎng)著臉表示同情，像巴黎人聽到了最大的災(zāi)難一樣。好心的德國(guó)人，生命的本源和邦斯的受到同樣深刻的打擊；他熬著自己的痛苦，還得為了朋友的病而痛苦。所以他每次上課倒有一半時(shí)間在談?wù)摪钏?，他?huì)挺天真地中途停下來想著朋友今天怎么樣，連年輕的女學(xué)生也留神聽著他解釋邦斯的病情了。兩課之間要有空閑，他就奔回諾曼底街陪邦斯一刻鐘。兩人的錢都花完了，半個(gè)月來西卜太太盡量加增病費(fèi)的開支，再拿這種壞消息去恐嚇許?？?。他雖然又驚又急，卻出乎意外地發(fā)覺自己竟有勇氣把悲痛壓下去。為了要家里不缺少錢，他生平第一次想到掙錢的念頭。有個(gè)女學(xué)生給兩位朋友的境況感動(dòng)了，問許?？嗽趺茨馨寻钏挂粋€(gè)人丟在家里的，他卻像受騙的老實(shí)人一樣，不勝欣慰地微笑著說：“哎，小姐，我們有西卜太太呀！她又好又熱心，把邦斯招呼得像王爺一樣！”

可是，只要許?？艘怀鲩T，西卜女人在家便是主人了。半個(gè)月不吃東西的邦斯，四肢無力地癱在那兒，西卜女人為了鋪床要他坐到沙發(fā)上去的時(shí)候，非得把他抱過去不可，他怎么還能監(jiān)視這個(gè)所謂的好天使呢？

不用說，西卜女人是趁許?？顺灾酗垥r(shí)去見瑪古斯的。她回來，許?？苏诟呐笥颜f再會(huì)。自從知道邦斯可以有筆大家私以后，西卜女人簡(jiǎn)直寸步不離，像孵小雞似的老守著他。她坐在床前一張舒服的沙發(fā)里，開始東拉西扯，搬弄一套這等女人最拿手的廢話，替邦斯解悶。假裝溫和馴良，體貼周到，老擔(dān)著心事，她用種種權(quán)術(shù)把邦斯的心收拾得服服帖帖。

注解：

[1]　馬倫哥為意大利地名，一八〇〇年七月拿破侖在此大破奧軍，為歷史上有名的戰(zhàn)役。

[2]　意大利名畫家喬爾喬內(nèi)（1477—1510）是為情婦死的。一說是情婦中時(shí)疫暴卒，喬氏親吻死者，致染疫而死；一說是情婦被喬氏摯友比哀·路佐·特·法脫爾所誘，憂憤而死。

[3]　郁金香原生于非洲北部、亞洲西部、歐洲南部，于十六世紀(jì)末盛行西歐，種植郁金香成為一時(shí)風(fēng)氣，尤以荷蘭人最為喜愛。

[4]　勞貝·曼達(dá)為巴爾扎克杜撰的演員。

[5]　此處系作者諷刺法蘭西學(xué)院。常任秘書之心不在焉，乃反映學(xué)院內(nèi)陳言俗套的議論令人生厭。