the spot was, in fact, admirably adapted, the entrance to the street widened out, the other extremity narrowed together into a pocket without exit. corinthe created an obstacle, the rue mondetour was easily barricaded on the right and the left, no attack was possible except from the rue saint-denis, that is to say, in front, and in full sight. bossuet had the comprehensive glance of a fasting hannibal.
terror had seized on the whole street at the irruption of the mob. there was not a passer-by who did not get out of sight. in the space of a flash of lightning, in the rear, to right and left, shops, stables, area-doors, windows, blinds, attic skylights, shutters of every description were closed, from the ground floor to the roof. a terrified old woman fixed a mattress in front of her window on two clothes-poles for drying linen, in order to deaden the effect of musketry. the wine-shop alone remained open; and that for a very good reason, that the mob had rushed into it.--"ah my god! ah my god!" sighed mame hucheloup.
bossuet had gone down to meet courfeyrac.
joly, who had placed himself at the window, exclaimed:--
"courfeyrac, you ought to have brought an umbrella. you will gatch gold."
in the meantime, in the space of a few minutes, twenty iron bars had been wrenched from the grated front of the wine-shop, ten fathoms of street had been unpaved; gavroche and bahorel had seized in its passage, and overturned,the dray of a lime-dealer named anceau; this dray contained three barrels of lime, which they placed beneath the piles of paving-stones: enjolras raised the cellar trap, and all the widow hucheloup's empty casks were used to flank the barrels of lime; feuilly, with his fingers skilled in painting the delicate sticks of fans, had backed up the barrels and the dray with two massive heaps of blocks of rough stone. blocks which were improvised like the rest and procured no one knows where. the beams which served as props were torn from the neighboring house-fronts and laid on the casks. when bossuet and courfeyrac turned round, half the street was already barred with a rampart higher than a man. there is nothing like the hand of the populace for building everything that is built by demolishing.
matelote and gibelotte had mingled with the workers. gibelotte went and came loaded with rubbish. her lassitude helped on the barricade. she served the barricade as she would have served wine, with a sleepy air.
an omnibus with two white horses passed the end of the street.
bossuet strode over the paving-stones, ran to it, stopped the driver, made the passengers alight, offered his hand to "the ladies,"
dismissed the conductor, and returned, leading the vehicle and the horses by the bridle.
"omnibuses," said he, "do not pass the corinthe. non licet omnibus adire corinthum."
an instant later, the horses were unharnessed and went off at their will, through the rue mondetour, and the omnibus lying on its side completed the bar across the street.
mame hucheloup, quite upset, had taken refuge in the first story.
her eyes were vague, and stared without seeing anything, and she cried in a low tone. her terrified shrieks did not dare to emerge from her throat.
"the end of the world has come," she muttered.
joly deposited a kiss on mame hucheloup's fat, red, wrinkled neck,and said to grantaire: "my dear fellow, i have always regarded a woman's neck as an infinitely delicate thing."
but grantaire attained to the highest regions of dithryamb. matelote had mounted to the first floor once more, grantaire seized her round her waist, and gave vent to long bursts of laughter at the window.
"matelote is homely!" he cried: "matelote is of a dream of ugliness! matelote is a chimaera. this is the secret of her birth: a gothic pygmalion, who was making gargoyles for cathedrals, fell in love with one of them, the most horrible, one fine morning. he besought love to give it life, and this produced matelote. look at her, citizens! she has chromate-of-lead-colored hair, like titian's mistress, and she is a good girl. i guarantee that she will fight well. every good girl contains a hero. as for mother hucheloup, she's an old warrior. look at her moustaches! she inherited them from her husband. a hussar indeed! she will fight too. these two alone will strike terror to the heart of the banlieue. comrades, we shall overthrow the government as true as there are fifteen intermediary acids between margaric acid and formic acid; however, that is a matter of perfect indifference to me. gentlemen, my father always detested me because i could not understand mathematics. i understand only love and liberty. i am grantaire, the good fellow. having never had any money, i never acquired the habit of it, and the result is that i have never lacked it; but, if i had been rich, there would have been no more poor people! you would have seen! oh, if the kind hearts only had fat purses, how much better things would go! i picture myself jesus christ with rothschild's fortune! how much good he would do! matelote, embrace me! you are voluptuous and timid! you have cheeks which invite the kiss of a sister, and lips which claim the kiss of a lover."
"hold your tongue, you cask!" said courfeyrac.
grantaire retorted:--
"i am the capitoul[52] and the master of the floral games!"
[52] municipal officer of toulouse.
enjolras, who was standing on the crest of the barricade, gun in hand, raised his beautiful, austere face. enjolras, as the reader knows, had something of the spartan and of the puritan in his composition. he would have perished at thermopylae with leonidas, and burned at drogheda with cromwell.
"grantaire," he shouted, "go get rid of the fumes of your wine somewhere else than here. this is the place for enthusiasm, not for drunkenness. don't disgrace the barricade!"
this angry speech produced a singular effect on grantaire. one would have said that he had had a glass of cold water flung in his face. he seemed to be rendered suddenly sober.
he sat down, put his elbows on a table near the window, looked at enjolras with indescribable gentleness, and said to him:--
"let me sleep here."
"go and sleep somewhere else," cried enjolras.
but grantaire, still keeping his tender and troubled eyes fixed on him, replied:--
"let me sleep here,--until i die."
enjolras regarded him with disdainful eyes:--
"grantaire, you are incapable of believing, of thinking, of willing, of living, and of dying."
grantaire replied in a grave tone:--
"you will see."
he stammered a few more unintelligible words, then his head fell heavily on the table, and, as is the usual effect of the second period of inebriety, into which enjolras had roughly and abruptly thrust him, an instant later he had fallen asleep.
那一地段确是选得非常高明。街口宽，街身窄，街尾象条死胡同，科林斯控制着咽喉，左右两侧的蒙德都街街口都容易堵塞，攻击只能来自圣德尼街，也就是说，来自正面，并且是敞着的。喝醉了的博须埃的眼光不亚于饿着肚子的汉尼拔。
那一伙涌进来后整条街上的人全惊慌起来了。没有一个过路人不躲避。一眨眼工夫，街底、街右、街左、商店、铺面、巷口的栅栏、窗户、板帘、顶楼、大小板窗，从地面直到房顶全关上了。一个吓破了胆的老妇人，把一块厚床垫系在两根晾衣服的杆子上挂在窗口外面，用以阻挡流弹。只有那酒店还开着，原因是那一伙人都已进去了。“啊我的天主！啊我的天主！”于什鲁大妈边叹气边这样说。
博须埃下楼找古费拉克去了。
若李待在窗口，喊着说：
“古费拉克，你应当带把雨伞。你又要伤风感报（冒）了。”
同时，不到几分钟那酒店的铁栏门上的铁条便被拔走了二十根，二十来米长的街面上的石块也被挖走了。伽弗洛什和巴阿雷看见一个名叫安索的烧石灰商人的两轮马车，载着三满桶石灰从他们面前经过，他们便拦住那车子，把它推翻，把石灰垫在石块的下面。安灼拉掀开地窖的平板门，寡妇于什鲁所有的空酒桶全部拿去支住那些石灰桶了；弗以伊，为了固定那些木桶和那辆马车，用他那十个惯常为精巧扇页着色的手指，在桶和车子的旁边堆砌了高高的两大堆鹅卵石。鹅卵石和其他的东西都是临时收集起来，也没人知道是从什么地方弄来的。从临近的一所房子的外墙上拆下了好些支墙的木柱，用来铺在木桶的面上。当博须埃和古费拉克回来时，半条街已被一座一人多高的堡垒堵塞住了。再没有什么能象群众的双手那样去建造一切为破坏而建的东西。
马特洛特和吉布洛特也参加了大伙的工作。吉布洛特来回搬运石灰碴。她向街垒贡献了她的那种懒劲。她把铺路的石块递给大家，正象她平时给客人递酒瓶时的神态，睡眼惺忪。
两匹白马拖着一辆公共马车从那街口经过。
博须埃见了，便跨过石块奔向前去，叫那车夫停住，让旅客们全部下来，搀扶着“女士们”下了车，打发了售票员，便抓住缰绳，把车子和马一同带了回来。他说：
“公共马车不从科林斯门前过。”
一会儿过后，卸下来的那两匹马，从蒙德都街口溜走了，公共马车翻倒在街垒旁边，完成了那条街的堵塞工事。
于什鲁大妈心慌意乱，躲到楼上去了。
她眼睛模糊，看东西也看不见，一直在低声叫苦。但可怕的叫声不敢出喉咙。
“这是世界的末日。”她嘟囔着。
若李在于什鲁大妈的粗红颈子的皱皮上吻了一下，对格朗泰尔说：
“我的亲爱的，我还以为女人的颈子总是无比细腻的呢。”
但是格朗泰尔这时正进入酒神颂的最高潮。马特洛特回到楼上来时，格朗泰尔曾把她拦腰抱了一把，还在窗边狂笑不止。
“马特洛特真是丑！”他喊着说，“你做梦也不会想到马特洛特会那么丑！马特洛特是一头怪兽。她出生的秘密是这样的：有个塑造天主堂屋顶水沟瓦档上饕餮头像的哥特人，一天早晨，象皮格马利翁1那样，忽然爱上了那些塑像中最可怕的一个。他央求爱神赐给它生命。那饕餮便变成了马特洛特。公民们，请看！她的头发和提香2的情妇一样，都作铬酸铅的颜色。她是个心地善良的姑娘。我向你们保证，她能勇敢战斗。凡是善良的姑娘都有一颗英雄的心。于什鲁大妈也是一个老当益壮的妇人。你们看看她嘴上的胡子！那是从她丈夫那里继承下来的。一个乌萨3娘子兵，没有错！她也一定能勇敢作战。有了她们两个，准可以威震郊区。同志们，我们一定能够推翻这个政府，这是确切可靠的，确切可靠到正如在脂肪酸和蚁酸之间有十五种中介酸那样。这些事与我毫不相干。先生们，我的父亲从来就嫌弃我，因为我不懂数学。我只懂得爱和自由。我是好孩子格朗泰尔！我从来不曾有过钱，也没有找钱的习惯，因此我也从来不缺钱，但是，要是我有钱的话，世界上就不会再有穷苦人！那将是人人能看得到的！呵！假使好心肠都有大钱包，那可就好了！我常想，要是耶稣基督能象路特希尔德4那样阔气，他会做出多少好事！马特洛特，拥抱我！您呀，多情而腼腆！您有着招来姐妹亲吻的双颊，有着要求情人亲吻的双唇！”
1据希腊神话，皮格马利翁（pygmalion）对自己所塑造的一座美女像发生爱情，爱神维纳斯使那塑像成为活人。
2提香（titien，1477?576），意大利画家，他有一张画题名是《提香的情妇》。
3乌萨，匈牙利骑兵。
4路特希尔德（rothschild，1743?812），德国籍犹太银行家，巨富，这里代表最富有者。
“不要闹了，酒桶！”古费拉克说。
格朗泰尔回答说：
“我是风流太守！我是品花大师！”
安灼拉，手里握着步枪，昂起他那俊美庄严的头，直立在街垒的顶上。我们知道，安灼拉象个斯巴达人和清教徒。他可以和莱翁尼达斯一起，战死在塞莫皮莱1，也可以和克伦威尔一起，焚烧德罗赫达2。
1塞莫皮莱（thermopyles），一译温泉关，在希腊。公元前四八○年，三百名斯巴达人在国王莱翁尼达斯率领下，在此奋战波斯大军，全部阵亡。
2德罗赫达（drogheda），爱尔兰城市。
“格朗泰尔，”他喊道，“你走开，到别处酗酒去。这儿是出生入死的地方，不是醉生梦死的地方。不要在此地丢街垒的脸！”
这些含着怒气的话在格朗泰尔的身上产生了一种奇特的效果。他好象让人家对他脸上泼了一杯冷水，忽然清醒过来了。他在窗子旁边，把手肘支在一张桌子上，坐了下来，带着一种说不出的和蔼神情望着安灼拉，对他说：
“你知道我信服你。”
“走开。”
“让我在此地睡唾。”
“到别处去睡。”安灼拉喊着说。
但是格朗泰尔的那双温和而尴尬的眼睛一直望着他，嘴里回答说：
“让我睡在这儿……直到我死在这儿。”
安灼拉带着藐视他的意味估量着他：
“格朗泰尔，你啥也不能，信仰，思想，志愿，生，死，你全不能。”
格朗泰尔以严肃的声音回答说：
“你走着瞧吧。”
他还结结巴巴说了几句听不清楚的话，便一头栽了在桌子上，这是酩酊状态的第二阶段，是常有的现象，安灼拉猛然一下把他送进了这阶段，不一会儿，他睡着了。