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1Par une soirée du mois d’avril, en l’an 1308, Tirechair rentra chez lui singulièrement fâché. Depuis trois jours il trouvait tout en ordre sur la voie publique. En sa qualité d’homme de police, rien ne l’affectait plus que de se voir inutile. Il jeta sa hallebarde avec humeur, grommela de vagues paroles en dépouillant sa jaquette mi-partie de rouge et de bleu, pour endosser un mauvais hoqueton de camelot. Après avoir pris dans la huche un morceau de pain sur lequel il étendit une couche de beurre, il s’établit sur un banc, examina ses quatre murs blanchis à la chaux, compta les solives de son plancher, inventoria ses ustensiles de ménage appendus à des clous, maugréa d’un soin qui ne lui laissait rien à dire, et regarda sa femme, laquelle ne soufflait mot en repassant les aubes et les surplis de la sacristie.
2— Par mon salut, dit-il pour entamer la conversation, je ne sais, Jacqueline, où tu vas pêcher tes apprenties. En voilà une, ajouta-t-il en montrant une ouvrière qui plissait assez maladroitement une nappe d’autel, en vérité, plus je la mire, plus je pense qu’elle ressemble à une fille folle de son corps, et non à une bonne grosse serve de campagne. Elle a des mains aussi blanches que celles d’une dame ! Jour de Dieu, ses cheveux sentent le parfum, je crois ! et ses chausses sont fines comme celles d’une reine. Par la double corne de Mahom, les choses céans ne vont pas à mon gré. L’ouvrière se prit à rougir, et guigna Jacqueline d’un air qui exprimait une crainte mêlée d’orgueil. La blanchisseuse répondit à ce regard par un sourire, quitta son ouvrage, et d’une voix aigrelette : — Ah ça ! dit-elle à son mari, ne m’impatiente pas ! Ne vas-tu point m’accuser de quelques manigances ? Trotte sur ton pavé tant que tu voudras, et ne te mêle de ce qui se passe ici que pour dormir en paix, boire ton vin, et manger ce que je te mets sur la table ; sinon, je ne me charge plus de t’entretenir en joie et en santé. Trouvez-moi dans toute la ville un homme plus heureux que ce singe-là ! ajouta-t-elle en lui faisant une grimace de reproche. Il a de l’argent dans son escarcelle, il a pignon sur Seine, une vertueuse hallebarde d’un côté, une honnête femme de l’autre, une maison aussi propre, aussi nette que mon œil ; et ça se plaint comme un pèlerin ardé du feu Saint-Antoine !
3— Ah ! reprit le sergent, crois-tu, Jacqueline, que j’aie envie de voir mon logis rasé, ma hallebarde aux mains d’un autre et ma femme au pilori ? Jacqueline et la délicate ouvrière pâlirent. — Explique-toi donc, reprit vivement la blanchisseuse, et fais voir ce que tu as dans ton sac. Je m’aperçois bien, mon gars, que depuis quelques jours tu loges une sottise dans ta pauvre cervelle. Allons, viens çà ! et défile-moi ton chapelet. Il faut que tu sois bien couard pour redouter le moindre grabuge en portant la hallebarde du parloir aux bourgeois, et en vivant sous la protection du chapitre. Les chanoines mettraient le diocèse en interdit si Jacqueline se plaignait à eux de la plus mince avanie. En disant cela, elle marcha droit au sergent et le prit par le bras : — Viens donc, ajouta-t-elle en le faisant lever et l’emmenant sur les degrés.
The source text as printed, transcribed diplomatically. Where the source language uses a non-Latin script that reaches us only through a Victorian romanisation, this layer is labelled transliteration, because that is what we hold.
1The ground floor of Tirechair’s house consisted of a large hall, where his wife’s business was carried on, through which the lodgers were obliged to pass on their way to their own rooms up a stairway like a mill-ladder. Behind this were a kitchen and a bedroom, with a view over the Seine. A tiny garden, reclaimed from the waters, displayed at the foot of this modest dwelling its beds of cabbages and onions, and a few rosebushes, sheltered by palings, forming a sort of hedge. A little structure of lath and mud served as a kennel for a big dog, the indispensable guardian of so lonely a dwelling. Beyond this kennel was a little plot, where the hens cackled whose eggs were sold to the Canons. Here and there on this patch of earth, muddy or dry according to the whimsical Parisian weather, a few trees grew, constanily lashed by the wind, and teased and broken by the passer-by —willows, reeds, and tall grasses. The Hyot, the Seine, the landing-place, the house, were all overshadowed on the west by the huge basilica of NotreDame casting its cold gloom over the whole plot as the sun moved. Then, as now, there was not in all Paris a more deserted spot, a more solemn or more melancholy prospect. The noise of waters, the chanting of priests, or the piping of the wind, were the only sounds that disturbed this wilderness, where lovers would sometimes meet to discuss their secrets when the church-folk and clergy were safe in church at the services.
2One evening in April in the year 1808, Tirechair came home in a remarkably bad temper. For three days past everything had been in good order on the King’s highway. Now, as an officer of the peace, nothing annoyed him so much as to feel himself useless. He flung down 818 BALZAC’S WORKS ee his halberd in a rage, muttered inarticulate words as he pulled off his doublet, half red and half blue, and slipped on a shabby camlet jerkin. After helping himself -from the bread-box to a hunch of bread and spreading it with butter, he seated himself on a bench, looked round at his four whitewashed walls, counted the beams of the ceiling, made a mental inventory of the household goods hanging from the nails, scowled at the neatness which left him nothing to complain of, and looked at his wife, who said not a word as she ironed the albs and surplices from the sacristy. ‘‘By my halidom,’’ he said, to open the conversation, *T cannot think, Jacqueline, where you go to catch your apprenticed maids. Now, here is one,’’ he went on, pointing to a girl who was folding an altar-cloth, clumsily enough, it must be owned, ‘‘who looks to me more like a damsel rather free of her person than-a sturdy, country wench. Her hands are as white as a fine lady’s! By the Mass! and her hair smells of essences, I verily believe, and her hose are as fine as a queen’s. By the two horns of Old Nick, matters please me but ill as I find them here.”’
3The girl colored, and stole a look at Jacqueline, full of alarm not unmixed with pride. The mistress answered her glance with a smile, laid down her work, and turned to her husband. ‘‘Come now,”’ said she, in a sharp tone, ‘‘you need not harry me. Are you going to accuse me next of some underhand tricks? Patrol your roads as much as you please, but do not meddle here with anything but what concerns your sleeping in peace, drinking your wine, and eating what I set before you, or else, I warn you, I will have no more to do with keeping you healthy and happy. Let any one find me a happier man in all the town,’’ she went on, with a scoldTHE EXILES 819 ing grimace. ‘‘He has silver in his purse, a gable over the Seine, a stout halberd on one hand, an honest wife on the other, a house as clean and smart as a new pin! And he growls like a pilgrim smarting from Saint Anthony’s fire!’’ ‘‘Hey day!’’ exclaimed the sergeant of the watch, ‘‘do you fancy, Jacqueline, that I have any wish to see my house razed down, my halberd given to another, and my wife standing in the pillory?”’ Jacqueline and the dainty journeywoman turned pale.
Our translation, period-faithful. Citable as our translation, never as the source.
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