susanwangyue
《项链》英文版与 中文版 The Nacklace SHE was one of those pretty and charming girls, born by a blunder of destiny in a family of employees. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of being known, understood, loved, married by a man rich and distinguished; and she let them make a match for her with a little clerk in the Department of Education. She was simple since she could not be adorned; but she was unhappy as though kept out of her own class; for women have no caste and no descent, their beauty, their grace, and their charm serving them instead of birth and fortune. Their native keenness, their instinctive elegance, their flexibility of mind, are their only hierarchy; and these make the daughters of the people the equals of the most lofty dames. She suffered intensely, feeling herself born for every delicacy and every luxury. She suffered from the poverty of her dwelling, from the worn walls, the abraded chairs, the ugliness of the stuffs. All these things, which another woman of her caste would not even have noticed, tortured her and made her indignant. The sight of the little girl from Brittany who did her humble housework awoke in her desolated regrets and distracted dreams. She let her mind dwell on the quiet vestibules, hung with Oriental tapestries, lighted by tall lamps of bronze, and on the two tall footmen in knee breeches who dozed in the large armchairs, made drowsy by the heat of the furnace. She let her mind dwell on the large parlors, decked with old silk, with their delicate furniture, supporting precious bric-a-brac, and on the coquettish little rooms, perfumed, prepared for the five o’clock chat with the most intimate friends, men well known and sought after, whose attentions all women envied and desired. When she sat down to dine, before a tablecloth three days old, in front of her husband, who lifted the cover of the tureen, declaring with an air of satisfaction, “Ah, the good pot-au-feu. I don’t know anything better than that,” she was thinking of delicate repasts, with glittering silver, with tapestries peopling the walls with ancient figures and with strange birds in a fairy-like forest; she was thinking of exquisite dishes, served in marvelous platters, of compliment whispered and heard with a sphinx-like smile, while she was eating the rosy flesh of a trout or the wings of a quail. She had no dresses, no jewelry, nothing. And she loved nothing else; she felt herself made for that only. She would so much have liked to please, to be envied, to be seductive and sought after. She had a rich friend, a comrade of her convent days, whom she did not want to go and see any more, so much did she suffer as she came away. And she wept all day long, from chagrin, from regret, from despair, and from distress. But one evening her husband came in with a proud air, holding in his hand a large envelope. “There,” said he, “there’s something for you.” She quickly tore the paper and took out of it a printed card which bore these words: “The Minister of Education and Mme. Georges Rampouneau beg M. and Mme. Loisel to do them the honor to pass the evening with them at the palace of the Ministry, on Monday, January .” Instead of being delighted, as her husband hoped, she threw the invitation on the table with annoyance, murmuring “What do you want me to do with that?” “But, my dear, I thought you would be pleased. You never go out, and here’s a chance, a fine one. I had the hardest work to get it. Everybody is after them; they are greatly sought for and not many are given to the clerks. You will see there all the official world.” She looked at him with an irritated eye and she declared with impatience: “What do you want me to put on my back to go there?” He had not thought of that; he hesitated: “But the dress in which you go to the theater. That looks very well to me” He shut up, astonished and distracted at seeing that his wife was weeping. Two big tears were descending slowly from the corners of the eyes to the corners of the mouth. He stuttered: What’s the matter? What’s the matter?” But by a violent effort she had conquered her trouble, and she replied in a calm voice as she wiped her damp cheeks: “Nothing. Only I have no clothes, and in consequence I cannot go to this party. Give your card to some colleague whose wife has a better outfit than I.” He was disconsolate. He began again: “See here, Mathilde, how much would this cost, a proper dress, which would do on other occasions; something very simple?” She reflected a few seconds, going over her calculations, and thinking also of the sum which she might ask without meeting an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the frugal clerk. “At last, she answered hesitatingly: “I don’t know exactly, but it seems to me that with four hundred francs I might do it.” He grew a little pale, for he was reserving just that sum to buy a gun and treat himself to a little shooting, the next summer, on the plain of Nanterre, with some friends who used to shoot larks there on Sundays. But he said: “All right. I will give you four hundred francs. But take care to have a pretty dress.” The day of the party drew near, and Mme. Loisel seemed sad, restless, anxious. Yet her dress was ready. One evening her husband said to her: “What’s the matter? Come, now, you have been quite queer these last three days.” And she answered: “It annoys me not to have a jewel, not a single stone, to put on. I shall look like distress. I would almost rather not go to this party.” He answered: “You will wear some natural flowers. They are very stylish this time of the year. For ten francs you will have two or three magnificent roses.” But she was not convinced. “No; there’s nothing more humiliating than to look poor among a lot of rich women.” But her husband cried: “What a goose you are! Go find your friend, Mme. Forester, and ask her to lend you some jewelry. You know her well enough to do that.” She gave a cry of joy “That’s true. I had not thought of it.” The next day she went to her friend’s and told her about her distress. Me. Forester went to her mirrored wardrobe, took out a large casket, brought it, opened it, and said to Mme. Loisel: “Choose, my dear.” She saw at first bracelets, then a necklace of pearls, then a Venetian cross of gold set with precious stones of an admirable workmanship. She tried on the ornaments before the glass, hesitated, and could not decide to take them off and to give them up. She kept on asking: “You haven’t anything else?” “Yes, yes. Look. I do not know what will happen to please you.” All at once she discovered, in a box of black satin, a superb necklace of diamonds, and her heart began to beat with boundless desire. Her hands trembled in taking it up. She fastened it round her throat, on her high dress, and remained in ecstasy before herself. Then, she asked, hesitating, full of anxiety: “Can you lend me this, only this?” “Yes, yes, certainly.” She sprang to her friend’s neck, kissed her with ardor, and then escaped with her treasure. The day of the party arrived. Mme. Loisel was a success. She was the prettiest of them all, elegant, gracious, smiling, and mad with joy. All the men were looking at her, inquiring her name, asking to be introduced. All the attaches of the Cabinet wanted to dance with her. The Minister took notice of her. She danced with delight, with passion, intoxicated with pleasure, thinking of nothing, in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory of her success, in a sort of cloud of happiness made up of all these tributes, of all the admirations, of all these awakened desires, of this victory so complete and so sweet to a woman’s heart. She went away about four in the morning. Since midnight—her husband has been dozing in a little anteroom with three other men whose wives were having a good time. He threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought to go home in, modest garments of every-day life, the poverty of which was out of keeping with the elegance of the ball dress. She felt this, and wanted to fly so as not to be noticed by the other women, who were wrapping themselves up in rich furs. Loisel kept her back “Wait a minute; you will catch cold outside; I’ll call a cab.” But she did not listen to him, and went downstairs rapidly. When they were in the street, they could not find a carriage, and they set out in search of one, hailing the drivers whom they saw passing in the distance. They went down toward the Seine, disgusted, shivering. Finally, they found on the Quai one of those old night-hawk cabs which one sees in Paris only after night has fallen, as though they are ashamed of their misery in the daytime. It brought them to their door, rue des Martyrs; and they went up their own stairs sadly. For her it was finished. And he was thinking that he would have to be at the Ministry at ten o’clock. She took off the wraps with which she had covered her shoulders, before the mirror, so as to see herself once more in her glory. But suddenly she gave a cry. She no longer had the necklace around her throat! Her husband, half undressed already, asked “What is the matter with you?” She turned to him, terror-stricken “I—I—I have not Mme. Forester’s diamond necklace!” He jumped up, frightened “What? How? It is not possible!” And they searched in the folds of the dress, in the folds of the wrap, in the pockets, everywhere. They did not find it. He asked: “Are you sure you still had it when you left the ball?” 71 “Yes, I touched it in the vestibule of the Ministry.” 72 “But if you had lost it in the street, we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab.” 73 “Yes. That is probable. Did you take the number?” “No. And you—you did not even look at it?” “No.” They gazed at each other, crushed. At last Loisel dressed himself again. “I’m going,” he said, “back the whole distance we came on foot, to see if I cannot find it.” And he went out. She stayed there, in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, on a chair, without a fire, without a thought. Her husband came back about seven o’clock. He had found nothing. Then he went to police headquarters, to the newspapers to offer a reward, to the cab company; he did everything, in fact, that a trace of hope could urge him to. She waited all day, in the same dazed state in face of this horrible disaster. Loisel came back in the evening, with his face worn and white; he had discovered nothing. “You must write to your friend,” he said, “that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it repaired. That will give us time to turn around.” She wrote as he dictated. At the end of a week they had lost all hope. And Loisel, aged by five years, declared: “We must see how we can replace those jewels.” The next day they took the case which had held them to the jeweler whose name was in the cover. He consulted his books. “It was not I, madam, who sold this necklace. I only supplied the case.” Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, looking for a necklace like the other, consulting their memory,—sick both of them with grief and anxiety. In a shop in the Palais Royal, they found a diamond necklace that seemed to them absolutely like the one they were seeking. It was priced forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six. They begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days. And they made a bargain that he should take it back for thirty-four thousand, if the first was found before the end of February. Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He had to borrow the remainder. He borrowed, asking a thousand francs from one, five hundred from another, five here, three louis there. He gave promissory notes, made ruinous agreements, dealt with usurers, with all kinds of lenders. He compromised the end of his life, risked his signature without even knowing whether it could be honored; and, frightened by all the anguish of the future, by the black misery which was about to settle down on him, by the perspective of all sorts of physical deprivations and of all sorts of moral tortures, he went to buy the new diamond necklace, laying down on the jeweler’s counter thirty-six thousand francs. When Mme. Loisel took back the necklace to Mme. Forester, the latter said, with an irritated air:— “You ought to have brought it back sooner, for I might have needed it.” She did not open the case, which her friend had been fearing. If she had noticed the substitution, what would she have thought? What would she have said? Might she not have been taken for a thief? Mme. Loisel learned the horrible life of the needy. She made the best of it, moreover, frankly, heroically. The frightful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed the servant; they changed their rooms; they took an attic under the roof. She learned the rough work of the household, the odious labors of the kitchen. She washed the dishes, wearing out her pink nails on the greasy pots and the bottoms of the pans. She washed the dirty linen, the shirts and the towels, which she dried on a rope; she carried down the garbage to the street every morning, and she carried up the water, pausing for breath on every floor. And, dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, insulted, fighting for her wretched money, sou by sou. Every month they had to pay notes, to renew others to gain time. The husband worked in the evening keeping up the books of a shopkeeper, and at night often he did copying at five sous the page. And this life lasted ten years. At the end of ten years they had paid everything back, everything, with the rates of usury and all the accumulation of heaped-up interest. Mme. Loisel seemed aged now. She had become the robust woman, hard and rough, of a poor household. Badly combed, with her skirts awry and her hands red, her voice was loud, and she washed the floor with splashing water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down by the window and she thought of that evening long ago, of that ball, where she had been so beautiful and so admired. What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? Who knows? How singular life is, how changeable! What a little thing it takes to save you or to lose you. Then, one Sunday, as she was taking a turn in the Champs Elysées, as a recreation after the labors of the week, she perceived suddenly a woman walking with a child. It was Mme. Forester, still young, still beautiful, still seductive. 107 Mme. Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid up, she would tell her all. Why not? She drew near. “Good morning, Jeanne.” The other did not recognize her, astonished to be hailed thus familiarly by this woman of the people. She hesitated “But madam I don’t know—are you not making a mistake?” “No. I am Mathilde Loisel.” Her friend gave a cry “Oh!—My poor Mathilde, how you are changed.” “Yes, I have had hard days since I saw you, and many troubles,—and that because of you.” “Of me?—How so?” “You remember that diamond necklace that you lent me to go to the ball at the Ministry?” “Yes. And then?” “Well, I lost it.” “How can that be?—since you brought it back to me?” “I brought you back another just like it. And now for ten years we have been paying for it. You will understand that it was not easy for us, who had nothing. At last, it is done, and I am mighty glad.” Mme. Forester had guessed. “You say that you bought a diamond necklace to replace mine?” “Yes. You did not notice it, even, did you? They were exactly alike?” And she smiled with proud and na?ve joy. Mme. Forester, much moved, took her by both hands: “Oh, my poor Mathilde. But mine were false. At most they were worth five hundred francs!”项链 世上的漂亮动人的女子，每每像是由于命运的差错似地，出生在一个小职员的家庭；我们现在要说的这一个正是这样。她没有陪嫁的资产，没有希望，没有任何方法使得一个既有钱又有地位的人认识她，了解她，爱她，娶她；到末了，她将将就就和教育部的一个小科员结了婚。 不能够讲求装饰，她是朴素的，但是不幸得像是一个降了等的女人；因为妇女们本没有阶级，没有门第之分，她们的美，她们的丰韵和她们的诱惑力就是供她们做出身和家世之用的。她们的天生的机警，出众的本能，柔顺的心灵，构成了她们唯一的等级，而且可以把民间的女子提得和最高的贵妇人一样高。 她觉得自己本是为了一切精美的和一切豪华的事物而生的，因此不住地感到痛苦。由于自己房屋的寒伧，墙壁的粗糙，家具的陈旧，衣料的庸俗，她非常难过。这一切，在另一个和她同等的妇人心上，也许是不会注意的，然而她却因此伤心，又因此懊恼，那个替她照料琐碎家务的布列塔尼省的小女佣人的样子，使她产生了种种忧苦的遗憾和胡思乱想。她梦想着那些静悄悄的接待室，如何蒙着东方的帏幕，如何点着青铜的高脚灯檠，如何派着两个身穿短裤子的高个儿侍应生听候指使，而热烘烘的空气暖炉使得两个侍应生都在大型的圈椅上打盹。她梦想那些披着古代壁衣的大客厅，那些摆着无从估价的瓷瓶的精美家具；她梦想那些精致而且芬芳的小客厅，自己到了午后五点光景，就可以和亲切的男朋友在那儿闲谈，和那些被妇女界羡慕的并且渴望一顾的知名男子在那儿闲谈。 然而事实上，她每天吃晚饭的时候，就在那张小圆桌跟前和她的丈夫对面坐下了，桌上盖的白布要三天才换一回，丈夫把那只汤池的盖子一揭开，就用一种高兴的神气说道：“哈！好肉汤！世上没有比它更好的……”因此她又梦想那些丰盛精美的筵席了，梦想那些光辉灿烂的银器皿了，梦想那些满绣着仙境般的园林和其间的古装仕女以及古怪飞禽的壁衣了；她梦想那些用名贵的盘子盛着的佳肴美味了，梦想那些在吃着一份肉色粉红的鲈鱼或者一份松鸡翅膀的时候带着朗爽的微笑去细听的情话了。而且她没有像样的服装，没有珠宝首饰，什么都没有。可是她偏偏只欢喜这一套，觉得自己是为了这一套而生的。她早就指望自己能够取悦于人，能够被人羡慕，能够有诱惑力而且被人追求。她有一个有钱的女朋友，一个在教会女学里的女同学，可是现在已经不再想去看她，因为看了之后回来，她总会感到痛苦。于是她由于伤心，由于遗憾，由于失望并且由于忧虑，接连她要不料某一天傍晚，她丈夫带着得意扬扬的神气回来了，手里拿着一个大信封。“瞧吧，”他说：“这儿有点儿东西是专门为了你的。”她赶忙拆开了信封，从里面抽了一张印着这样语句的请帖：“教育部长若尔日·郎波诺暨夫人荣幸地邀请骆塞尔先生和骆塞尔太太参加一月十八日星期一在本部大楼举办的晚会。”她丈夫希望她一定快活得很，谁知她竟带着伤心而且生气的样子把请帖扔到桌上，冷冰冰地说：“你叫我拿着这东西怎么办？” “不过，亲人儿，我原以为你大概是满意的。你素来不出门，并且这是一个机会，这东西，一个好机会！我费了多少力才弄到手。大家都想要请帖，它是很难弄到手的，却又没有多少份发给同事们。将来在晚会上看得见政界的全部人物。” 她用一种暴怒的眼光瞧着他，后来她不耐烦地高声说： “你叫我身上穿着什么到那儿去？” 他以前原没有想到这一层；支吾地说：“不过，你穿了去看戏的那件裙袍。我觉得它很好，我……” 瞧见他妻子流着眼泪，他不说话了，吃惊了，心里糊涂了。两大滴眼泪慢慢地从她的眼角向着口角流下来；他吃着嘴说：“你有点怎样？你有点怎样？” 但是她用一种坚强的忍耐心镇住了自己的痛苦，擦着自己那副润湿了的脸蛋儿，一面用一道宁静的声音回答：“没有什么。不过我没有衣裳，所以我不能够去赴这个晚会。你倘若有一个同事，他的妻子能够比我打扮得好些，你就把这份请帖送给他。” 他发愁了，接着说道：“这么着吧，玛蒂尔蒂。要花多少钱，一套像样的衣裳，以后遇着机会你还可以再穿的，简单一些的？” 她思索了好几秒钟，确定她的盘算，并且也考虑到这个数目务必可以由她要求，不至于引起这个节俭科员的一种吃惊的叫唤和一个干脆的拒绝。末了她迟迟疑疑地回答：“细数呢，我不晓得，不过我估计，有四百金法郎，总可以办得到。” 他的脸色有点儿发青了，因为他手里正存着这样一个数目预备去买一枝枪，使得自己在
moncherisii
Necklace主要角色：Husband; Mathilde; Jane; Thief（同时是舞会侍者） 主要角色： Jane; Thief（ 同时是舞会侍者） 配角：旁白; 舞会上路人甲、 配角：旁白; 舞会上路人甲、乙（旁白：） 旁白：） charming, Once there was a girl named Mathilde. She was pretty and charming, loving beautiful clothes, shining diamond. She always enjoys the palace, diamond day fate, and all the beauties in the day life. Unfortunately, by a slip of fate, dowry（嫁妆） she married a little clerk. She had no dowry（嫁妆）, no expectations, no way of being known, understood, loved. when One day when she sat down to dinner, her husband rushed into the room with a piece of good news. （第一幕：家中。二人坐在餐桌旁） 第一幕： 二人坐在餐桌旁） Husband： Husband：Darling, good news, good news. Mathilde： Mathilde：Good news? Husband： Husband：Yes! Mathilde：（打开信封拿出信念） ：（打开信封拿出信念 Mathilde：（打开信封拿出信念）The Minister of Public Instruction invite you and me to the ball on Monday evening, January 18th. The ball, jewelry, beautiful clothes. Husband： what’s Husband：Oh, what’s wrong with you? Mathilde：（放下信不开心） ：（放下信不开心 Mathilde：（放下信不开心）What do you wish me to do with that? Husband： happy. Husband：Why, my dear, I thought you would be happy. You never go out, go. and this is such a fine opportunity. Every one wants to go. The whole official world will be there. Mathilde： Mathilde：But I don’t have any jewelry! Husband： Husband：Jewelry? Do you need any jewelry? Mathilde： Mathilde：Of course, no jewelry, how could I go to the ball? Husband: Jewelry? Why not wear some natural flowers? Mathilde： Mathilde：But flowers, just flowers! I will look very poor beside those people people who are rich. Husband： Husband： You can ask your friend Jane, and borrow some jewelry from her. Mathilde： Mathilde：My friend Jane? Husband： Husband：Yes! Mathilde： Mathilde：Oh, that’s true, darling. You are so clever. I have never thought of it.（第二幕：Mathilde 来到 Jane 家。 第二幕： （旁白：）The next day she went to her friend Jane. 旁白：）The ：） Jane： Jane：Jewelries are here. 拿第一根项链） Mathilde: Oh, so beautiful! （拿第一根项链）look at this one, it’s very nice. (拿第二根项链)It’s so beautiful! (拿第三根项链)Look at the (拿第二根项链)It’ (拿第三根项链) 拿第二根项链 拿第三根项链 diamond, it’s so bright, I like it very much. May I borrow this one, only this one? Jane: Jane: Yes, certainly. Mathilde: Really? Jane: You look nice! Mathilde: Thank you.（第三幕：舞会） 第三幕：舞会） 旁白：） （旁白：） When she wore the necklace, she felt she was the most beautiful lady in the world. On the ball, every one paid attention on her. She danced with laughter, with passion. She was excited, forget everything. Just enjoy the ball. 舞会，众人跳舞。 舞会，众人跳舞。（第四幕：找项链） 找项链） Husband：Mathilde, what’s the matter with you? usband： Mathilde: I have, I have lost my necklace. Husband: What? Impossible! Mathilde： Mathilde：I don’t know. Husband: Think it over. Mathilde: Mathilde: Let me see, let me see. Maybe … maybe, I lost it on the ball. Husband： Husband：Don’t be nervous. Now, let’s go back to the ball and find it together. Necklace, 合：Necklace, where is the necklace … necklace … necklace…… athilde: Mathilde: Madam, did you see my necklace? 路人： sorry, 路人：Oh, sorry, I have never seen it. Mathilde： Mathilde：Lost the necklace, how should I do? Husband：Don’t be sad, my dear. Now, if you encounter your friend Jane, Husband： tell her that you’ll return the necklace on time. Mathilde： Mathilde：But, how can I get the necklace? Husband： Husband：We can buy a new one that looks the same as that one your borrowed.Mathilde： Mathilde：Do you know how much the necklace cost? Husband： Husband：I don’t know! Mathilde： Mathilde：It cost 50 thousand francs. Husband： Husband：50 thousand francs? Oh, my god! We must borrow money to pay for it. 旁白：） （旁白：） After she lost the necklace, she should work day and night to pay for it. During the ten years, she became older and older. She had become the households---strong woman of impoverished households--strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands, she talked loud while washing the floor with great swishes of water. Mathilde: How dirty it is! I will be mad. I will be crazy! （第四幕：Mathilde 公园长椅上，落魄） 第四幕： 公园长椅上， 落魄） 旁白：） ：）One （旁白：）One day, Mathilde had a rest in the park. She met a madam who is still young, still charming, still beautiful. It is Mathilde!! Now that she has paid, she should tell her all about that. athilde： Mathilde：Hello, Jane. Jane：But--madame! --madame! mistake. Jane：But--madame!May be you made a mistake. I haven’t seen you before. Mathilde： Mathilde, Mathilde：No. I am Mathilde, you friend. Jane：（惊讶） ：（惊讶 changed! Jane：（惊讶）Oh, my poor Mathilde! How you are changed! Mathilde：That’s because of you! Mathilde： hat’s Jane： Jane：Of me! How so? Mathilde： Mathilde：Do you remember that necklace I borrowed from you 10 years ago. Jane： Jane：Yes. You went to the ball with your husband, and you look nice with it. Mathilde： ball. Mathilde： I lost it in the ball. Jane： remember Jane：But I remember you returned it to me ten years ago. Mathilde： Mathilde：That’s a new one. It looks the same as that one. And this necklace has taken us ten years to pay for it. Jane： Jane：Ten years hard work? Oh, my poor Mathilde. The necklace was a fake. five It wasworth at most only five hundred francs! Mathilde: 脸色惨白…… ……） francs…F …Five Mathilde:（Mathilde 脸色惨白……）Five hundred francs…Five hundred francs…F …Five francs…F …Five francs… francs…Five hundred francs…Five hundred francs…佛：唉，我可怜的玛蒂尔德！可是，可是（抓住她的手） ，可是我那一挂是假的，最多值五 百法郎！……
初心&依恋
这个才是全的！楼上的不全《项链》英文剧本Necklace The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction. She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy as if she had really fallen from a higher station; since with women there is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace and charm take the place of family and birth. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and often make of women of the people the equals of the very greatest ladies. Mathilde suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries. She was distressed at the poverty of her dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs, the ugliness of the curtains. All those things, of which another woman of her rank would never even have been conscious, tortured her and made her angry. The sight of the little Breton peasant who did her humble housework aroused in her despairing regrets and bewildering dreams. She thought of silent antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry, illumined by tall bronze candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big armchairs, made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. She thought of long reception halls hung with ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish perfumed reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men famous and sought after, whom all women envy and whose attention they all desire. When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days, opposite her husband, who uncovered the soup tureen and declared with a delighted air, "Ah, the good soup! I don't know anything better than that," she thought of dainty dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds flying in the midst of a fairy forest; and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinxlike smile while you are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail. She had no gowns, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that. She felt made for that. She would have liked so much to please, to be envied, to be charming, to be sought after. She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and whom she did not like to go to see any more because she felt so sad when she came home. But one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope in his hand. "There," said he, "there is something for you." She tore the paper quickly and drew out a printed card which bore these words: The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau request the honor of M. and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of the Ministry on Monday evening, January 18th. Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the invitation on the table crossly, muttering: "What do you wish me to do with that?" "Why, my dear, I thought you would be glad. You never go out, and this is such a fine opportunity. I had great trouble to get it. Every one wants to go; it is very select, and they are not giving many invitations to clerks. The whole official world will be there." She looked at him with an irritated glance and said impatiently: "And what do you wish me to put on my back?" He had not thought of that. He stammered: "Why, the gown you go to the theatre in. It looks very well to me." He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was weeping. Two great tears ran slowly from the corners of her eyes toward the corners of her mouth. "What's the matter? What's the matter?" he answered. By a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice, while she wiped her wet cheeks: "Nothing. Only I have no gown, and, therefore, I can't go to this ball. Give your card to some colleague whose wife is better equipped than I am." He was in despair. He resumed: "Come, let us see, Mathilde. How much would it cost, a suitable gown, which you could use on other occasions--something very simple?" She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wondering also what sum she could ask without drawing on herself an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk. Finally she replied hesitating: "I don't know exactly, but I think I could manage it with four hundred francs." He grew a little pale, because he was laying aside just that amount to buy a gun and treat himself to a little shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre, with several friends who went to shoot larks there of a Sunday. But he said: "Very well. I will give you four hundred francs. And try to have a pretty gown." The day of the ball drew near and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy, anxious. Her frock was ready, however. Her husband said to her one evening: "What is the matter? Come, you have seemed very queer these last three days." And she answered: "It annoys me not to have a single piece of jewelry, not a single ornament, nothing to put on. I shall look poverty-stricken. I would almost rather not go at all." "You might wear natural flowers," said her husband. "They're very stylish at this time of year. For ten francs you can get two or three magnificent roses." She was not convinced. "No; there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other women who are rich." "How stupid you are!" her husband cried. "Go look up your friend, Madame Forestier, and ask her to lend you some jewels. You're intimate enough with her to do that." She uttered a cry of joy: "True! I never thought of it." The next day she went to her friend and told her of her distress. Madame Forestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror, took out a large jewel box, brought it back, opened it and said to Madame Loisel: "Choose, my dear." She saw first some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian gold cross set with precious stones, of admirable workmanship. She tried on the ornaments before the mirror, hesitated and could not make up her mind to part with them, to give them back. She kept asking: "Haven't you any more?" "Why, yes. Look further; I don't know what you like." Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin box, a superb diamond necklace, and her heart throbbed with an immoderate desire. Her hands trembled as she took it. She fastened it round her throat, outside her high-necked waist, and was lost in ecstasy at her reflection in the mirror. Then she asked, hesitating, filled with anxious doubt: "Will you lend me this, only this?" "Why, yes, certainly." She threw her arms round her friend's neck, kissed her passionately, then fled with her treasure. The night of the ball arrived. Madame Loisel was a great success. She was prettier than any other woman present, elegant, graceful, smiling and wild with joy. All the men looked at her, asked her name, sought to be introduced. All the attaches of the Cabinet wished to waltz with her. She was remarked by the minister himself. She danced with rapture, with passion, intoxicated by pleasure, forgetting all in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory of her success, in a sort of cloud of happiness comprised of all this homage, admiration, these awakened desires and of that sense of triumph which is so sweet to woman's heart. She left the ball about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had been sleeping since midnight in a little deserted anteroom with three other gentlemen whose wives were enjoying the ball. He threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought, the modest wraps of common life, the poverty of which contrasted with the elegance of the ball dress. She felt this and wished to escape so as not to be remarked by the other women, who were enveloping themselves in costly furs. Loisel held her back, saying: "Wait a bit. You will catch cold outside. I will call a cab." But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the stairs. When they reached the street they could not find a carriage and began to look for one, shouting after the cabmen passing at a distance. They went toward the Seine in despair, shivering with cold. At last they found on the quay one of those ancient night cabs which, as though they were ashamed to show their shabbiness during the day, are never seen round Paris until after dark. It took them to their dwelling in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they mounted the stairs to their flat. All was ended for her. As to him, he reflected that he must be at the ministry at ten o'clock that morning. She removed her wraps before the glass so as to see herself once more in all her glory. But suddenly she uttered a cry. She no longer had the necklace around her neck! "What is the matter with you?" demanded her husband, already half undressed. She turned distractedly toward him. "I have--I have--I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace," she cried. He stood up, bewildered. "What!--how? Impossible!" They looked among the folds of her skirt, of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere, but did not find it. "You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?" he asked. "Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the minister's house." "But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab." "Yes, probably. Did you take his number?" "No. And you--didn't you notice it?" "No." They looked, thunderstruck, at each other. At last Loisel put on his clothes. "I shall go back on foot," said he, "over the whole route, to see whether I can find it." He went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, without any fire, without a thought. Her husband returned about seven o'clock. He had found nothing. He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he went to the cab companies--everywhere, in fact, whither he was urged by the least spark of hope. She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity. Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face. He had discovered nothing. "You must write to your friend," said he, "that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it mended. That will give us time to turn round." She wrote at his dictation. At the end of a week they had lost all hope. Loisel, who had aged five years, declared: "We must consider how to replace that ornament." The next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler whose name was found within. He consulted his books. "It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply have furnished the case." Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace like the other, trying to recall it, both sick with chagrin and grief. They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds that seemed to them exactly like the one they had lost. It was worth forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six. So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And they made a bargain that he should buy it back for thirty-four thousand francs, in case they should find the lost necklace before the end of February. Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He would borrow the rest. He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, five louis here, three louis there. He gave notes, took up ruinous obligations, dealt with usurers and all the race of lenders. He compromised all the rest of his life, risked signing a note without even knowing whether he could meet it; and, frightened by the trouble yet to come, by the black misery that was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that he was to suffer, he went to get the new necklace, laying upon the jeweler's counter thirty-six thousand francs. When Madame Loisel took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her with a chilly manner: "You should have returned it sooner; I might have needed it." She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she had detected the substitution, what would she have thought, what would she have said? Would she not have taken Madame Loisel for a thief? Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She bore her part, however, with sudden heroism. That dreadful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed their servant; they changed their lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof. She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen. She washed the dishes, using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on greasy pots and pans. She washed the soiled linen, the shirts and the dishcloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops down to the street every morning and carried up the water, stopping for breath at every landing. And dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, meeting with impertinence, defending her miserable money, sou by sou. Every month they had to meet some notes, renew others, obtain more time. Her husband worked evenings, making up a tradesman's accounts, and late at night he often copied manuscript for five sous a page. This life lasted ten years. At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with the rates of usury and the accumulations of the compound interest. Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverished households--strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands, she talked loud while washing the floor with great swishes of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down near the window and she thought of that gay evening of long ago, of that ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired. What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? who knows? How strange and changeful is life! How small a thing is needed to make or ruin us! But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the labors of the week, she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child. It was Madame Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming. Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid, she would tell her all about it. Why not? She went up. "Good-day, Jeanne." The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good-wife, did not recognize her at all and stammered: "But--madame!--I do not know--You must have mistaken." "No. I am Mathilde Loisel." Her friend uttered a cry. "Oh, my poor Mathilde! How you are changed!" "Yes, I have had a pretty hard life, since I last saw you, and great poverty--and that because of you!" "Of me! How so?" "Do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the ministerial ball?" "Yes. Well?" "Well, I lost it." "What do you mean? You brought it back." "I brought you back another exactly like it. And it has taken us ten years to pay for it. You can understand that it was not easy for us, for us who had nothing. At last it is ended, and I am very glad." Madame Forestier had stopped. "You say that you bought a necklace of diamonds to replace mine?" "Yes. You never noticed it, then! They were very similar." And she smiled with a joy that was at once proud and ingenuous. Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took her hands. "Oh, my poor Mathilde! Why, my necklace was paste! It was worth at most only five hundred francs!" 《项链》 中文剧本序曲（一个简陋屋子里梳妆台前，玛蒂尔德有些忧伤地坐着看这镜子里这动人的容颜，她不觉有些遗憾。）玛蒂尔德：哎，为什么命运是这样弄人。为什么我只能穿的如此朴素的照着镜子孤芳自赏，为什么我不能象那些风韵万千的女人太太们一起出入交际的场合，和体面的有钱人结识。我应该生在那种贵族的家庭，拥有体面的生活。可是现在，哎。看看着简陋的屋子吧，什么都没有。看那面墙，上面应该帖在名贵的画幅才对。我要打扮的漂漂亮亮的和那些阔太太们坐在宽敞舒适的客厅里闲谈，这才是我想要的生活。（玛蒂尔德走到饭厅的桌子前面，上面铺着一块三天没有洗过的桌布，她促了促眉头。）玛蒂尔德；哎，多脏的桌子啊。要是能和那些阔太太们一样揭开锅子的时候喝的是肉汤，那丰盛的晚餐，真是诱人啊！（作无限遐想状）（遐想完毕，睁开眼睛发现什么也没有）玛蒂尔德（流泪的幽怨的）：为什么，为什么我不能和佛来思节一样过着富裕快乐的生活呢，为什么，为什么…….第一幕(一天傍晚,丈夫得意洋洋的回来,手里拿了个大信封)乔治:看呀,这里有个东西给你.玛蒂尔德(高兴地拆开信封):教育部部长乔治教育部长乔治•朗伯诺及夫人，恭请路瓦栽先生与夫人于一月十八日（星期一）光临教育部礼堂，参加夜会。她有些懊恼地把信丢在桌子上,咕哝道:”你叫我拿这东西怎么办呢?”乔治:但是，亲爱的，我原以为你一定很喜欢的，你从来不出门，这是一个机会，一个，一个好机会！（愁苦的，委屈的）我费了多大力气才弄到手！大家都希望得到，可是很难得到，一向很少发给职员。你在那里可以看见所有的官员。”玛蒂尔德(有些恼怒的,不耐烦地大声说):”你打算让我穿什么去呢?”乔治(有些结结巴巴): “你上戏院子穿的那件衣裳，我觉得就很好，照我看……”乔治惊惶失措的住口, 玛蒂尔德哭了起来,两颗泪珠慢慢的顺着脸颊流下.乔治(吃吃地):”你怎么了,你怎么了?”玛蒂尔德（擦干了脸上的泪水,终于平静起来）：“没有什么，只是,没有一件像样的衣服，我不能去参加这个夜会。你的同事，谁的妻子打扮得比我好，就把这请柬送给谁去吧！（说到这里，又哭了出来）”乔治(难受地): “好吧，玛蒂尔德。做一身合适的衣服，你在别的场合也能穿，很朴素的，得多少钱呢？”玛蒂尔德(想了好一会,迟疑的) “准数呢，我不知道，不过我想，有四百法郎就可以办到。”乔治(脸色苍白地): 好吧！我给你四百法郎。不过你得把这件长衣裙做得好看些。”第二幕旁白: 夜会的日子近了，但是路瓦栽夫人显得郁闷、不安、忧愁。她的衣服却做好了，她丈夫有一天晚上对她说——乔治(担心的):”你怎么了？看看这三天来你非常奇怪，是不是得了什么病了？”玛蒂尔德（埋怨的）：“叫我发愁的是一粒珍珠、一块宝石都没有，没有什么戴的。我处处带着穷酸气，你很不想去参加这个夜会！乔治：“戴上几多鲜花吧！别在胸前与肩上装点一下，这个时节是很时兴的！花十个法郎就能买到两三多别致的玫瑰”玛蒂尔德（不依）：“不成。。。。。。在阔太太中露穷酸相，再难堪不过了！”乔治（大声地）： “你多么傻呀！你不是有一个叫弗莱斯杰夫人的朋友吗！你和她的交情非比寻常，量来你去问她借几件珠宝是不成问题的！”玛蒂尔德（惊喜地）：“真的呢！我倒没有想到这个！”第三幕旁白：第二天，玛蒂尔德到他的朋友家中。玛蒂尔德（热烈的）：“哦！佛来思节！”佛来思节（热烈的）：“哦，玛蒂尔德，好久不见了，好想你啊！”旁白：两人走到桌前坐下了。 （仆人上） 仆人（恭敬的）：“太太，咖啡。” 玛蒂尔德（微笑着）：“谢谢！哦！佛来思节，不愧是大户人家，连家里仆人也这样懂礼貌！” 佛来思节（微笑着）：“呵呵，今天来找我，是为了什么事？” 玛蒂尔德（愁苦的）：“哎！佛来思节，我遇到麻烦了！”佛来思节（关心的）：“怎么了，我亲爱的玛蒂尔德？”玛蒂尔德（感觉难以开口的）：“是这样的，……我丈夫前几天接到了教育部发来的请柬，请柬上说让我们去参加夜会，我恰好做了一件新衣服所以很乐意去，不过……你是知道的，我平时就很朴素，所以没有什么首饰……”佛来思节（微微一笑离开座位，走到后台，取出一只大匣子，拿过来并打开，善解人意地）：“挑吧，亲爱的。”玛蒂尔德（高兴的）：“哦！太谢谢你了，你真是我的好姐妹！” 旁白：（边说，玛蒂尔德边做）玛蒂尔德先看了几副镯子，又看了一挂珍珠项圈，随后又看了一个威尼斯式的镶着宝石的金十字
优质英语培训问答知识库
