A Christmas Carol | Progressive French B1 Translation Books

A Christmas Carol | Progressive French B1 Translation Books

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STAVEONE.
MARLEY’SGHOST.
Marleywasdead:
tobeginwith.
Thereisnodoubtwhateveraboutthat.
Theregisterofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman,theclerk,theundertaker,andthechiefmourner.
Scroogesignedit:
andScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change,foranythinghechosetoputhishandto.
OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Mind!
Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyown
connaissance
knowledge
,whatthereisparticularlydeadaboutadoor-nail.
Imighthavebeeninclined,myself,toregardacoffin-nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryinthe
commerce
trade
.
Butthewisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile;
andmyunhallowedhandsshallnotdisturbit,ortheCountry’sdonefor.
Youwill
donc
therefore
permitmetorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Scroogeknewhewasdead?
Ofcoursehedid.
Howcoulditbeotherwise?
ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears.
Scroogewashissoleexecutor,hissoleadministrator,hissoleassign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,hissolefriend,andsolemourner.
AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythesad
événement
event
,butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthe
funérailles
funeral
,andsolemniseditwithanundoubtedbargain.
ThementionofMarley’s
funérailles
funeral
bringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom.
ThereisnodoubtthatMarleywasdead.
Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingtorelate.
Ifwewerenot
parfaitement
perfectly
convincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan,therewouldbenothingmoreremarkableinhistakingastrollatnight,inaneasterlywind,uponhisownramparts,thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle-aged
gentleman
gentleman
rashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezyspot—say
Saint
Saint
Paul’sChurchyardforinstance—literallytoastonishhisson’sweakmind.
Scroogenever
peint
painted
outOldMarley’sname.
Thereitstood,yearsafterwards,abovethewarehousedoor:
ScroogeandMarley.
ThefirmwasknownasScroogeandMarley.
SometimespeoplenewtothebusinesscalledScroogeScrooge,andsometimesMarley,butheansweredtobothnames.
Itwasallthesametohim.
Oh!
Buthewasatight-fistedhandatthegrindstone,Scrooge!
asqueezing,wrenching,grasping,scraping,clutching,covetous,oldsinner!
Hardandsharpasflint,fromwhichno
acier
steel
hadeverstruckoutgenerousfire;
secret,andself-contained,andsolitaryasanoyster.
Thecoldwithinhimfrozehisoldfeatures,nippedhispointednose,shrivelledhischeek,stiffenedhisgait;
madehiseyesred,histhinlipsblue;
andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgratingvoice.
Afrostyrimewasonhishead,andonhiseyebrows,andhiswirychin.
Hecarriedhisownlowtemperaturealwaysaboutwithhim;
heicedhisofficeinthedog-days;
anddidn’tthawitone
degré
degree
atChristmas.
ExternalheatandcoldhadlittleinfluenceonScrooge.
Nowarmthcouldwarm,nowintry
temps
weather
chillhim.
Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofalling
neige
snow
wasmoreintentuponits
but
purpose
,nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty.
Foul
temps
weather
didn’tknowwheretohavehim.
Theheaviestrain,and
neige
snow
,andhail,andsleet,couldboastoftheadvantageoverhiminonlyonerespect.
Theyoften“camedown”handsomely,andScroogeneverdid.
Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,“MydearScrooge,howareyou?
Whenwillyoucometoseeme?”
Nobeggarsimploredhimtobestowatrifle,nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeinquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,ofScrooge.
Eventheblindmen’sdogs
semblaient
appeared
toknowhim;
andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;
andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,“Noeyeatallisbetterthananevileye,darkmaster!”
ButwhatdidScroogecare!
Itwastheverythingheliked.
Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife,warningallhumansympathytokeepits
distance
distance
,waswhattheknowingonescall“nuts”toScrooge.
Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.
Itwascold,bleak,
mordant
biting
weather:
foggywithal:
andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthepavementstonestowarmthem.
Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquitedarkalready—ithadnotbeenlightallday—andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddysmearsuponthepalpable
brun
brown
air.
Thefogcamepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwassodensewithout,that
bien que
although
thecourtwasofthenarrowest,thehousesoppositeweremerephantoms.
Toseethedingycloudcomedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelivedhardby,andwasbrewingonalargescale.
ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhisclerk,whoinadismallittlecell
au-delà
beyond
,asortoftank,was
copiait
copying
letters.
Scroogehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuchsmallerthatitlookedlikeonecoal.
Buthecouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthecoal-boxinhisownroom;
andso
sûrement
surely
astheclerkcameinwiththeshovel,themasterpredictedthatitwouldbenecessaryforthemtopart.
Whereforetheclerkputonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarmhimselfatthecandle;
inwhich
effort
effort
,notbeingamanofastrong
imagination
imagination
,hefailed.
“AmerryChristmas,uncle!
Godsaveyou!”
criedacheerfulvoice.
ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’s
neveu
nephew
,whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhis
approche
approach
.
“Bah!”
saidScrooge,“Humbug!”
Hehadso
chauffé
heated
himselfwithrapidwalkinginthefogandfrost,this
neveu
nephew
ofScrooge’s,thathewasallinaglow;
hisfacewasruddyand
beau
handsome
;
hiseyessparkled,andhisbreathsmokedagain.
“Christmasahumbug,uncle!”
saidScrooge’s
neveu
nephew
.
“Youdon’tmeanthat,Iamsure?”
“Ido,”saidScrooge.
“MerryChristmas!
Whatrighthaveyoutobemerry?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemerry?
You’repoorenough.”
“Come,then,”returnedthe
neveu
nephew
gaily.
“Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemorose?
You’rerichenough.”
Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthespurofthemoment,said,“Bah!”
again;
andfolloweditupwith“Humbug.”
“Don’tbecross,uncle!”
saidthe
neveu
nephew
.
“WhatelsecanIbe,”returnedtheuncle,“whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthis?
MerryChristmas!
OutuponmerryChristmas!
What’sChristmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithoutmoney;
atimeforfindingyourselfayearolder,butnotanhourricher;
atimefor
équilibrer
balancing
yourbooksandhavingeveryitemin’emthrougharounddozenofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou?
IfIcouldworkmywill,”saidScroogeindignantly,“everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith‘MerryChristmas’onhislips,shouldbeboiledwithhisownpudding,and
enterré
buried
withastakeofhollythroughhisheart.
Heshould!”
“Uncle!”
pleadedthe
neveu
nephew
.
“Nephew!”
returnedtheunclesternly,“keepChristmasinyourownway,andletmekeepitinmine.”
“Keepit!”
répète
repeated
Scrooge’snephew.
“Butyoudon’tkeepit.”
“Letmeleaveitalone,then,”saidScrooge.
“Muchgoodmayitdoyou!
Muchgoodithaseverdoneyou!”
“TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood,bywhichIhavenotprofited,Idaresay,”returnedthe
neveu
nephew
.
“Christmasamongtherest.
ButIamsureIhavealwaysthoughtofChristmastime,whenithascomeround—apartfromtheveneration
due
due
toitssacrednameandorigin,ifanything
appartient
belonging
toitcanbeapartfromthat—asagoodtime;
akind,forgiving,charitable,pleasanttime;
theonlytimeIknowof,inthelongcalendaroftheyear,whenmenandwomenseembyoneconsenttoopentheirshut-upheartsfreely,andtothinkofpeople
dessous
below
themasiftheyreallywerefellow-passengerstothe
tombe
grave
,andnotanotherraceofcreaturesboundonotherjourneys.
And
donc
therefore
,uncle,thoughithasneverputascrapofgoldorsilverinmy
poche
pocket
,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;
andIsay,Godblessit!”
Theclerkinthe
Réservoir
Tank
involuntarilyapplauded.
Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety,hepokedthefire,andextinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever.
“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyoursituation!
You’requitea
puissant
powerful
speaker,sir,”headded,turningtohis
neveu
nephew
.
“Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament.”
“Don’tbeangry,uncle.
Come!
Dinewithusto-morrow.”
Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim—yes,indeedhedid.
Hewentthewholelengthoftheexpression,andsaidthathewouldseehiminthatextremityfirst.
“Butwhy?”
criedScrooge’s
neveu
nephew
.
“Why?”
“Whydidyougetmarried?”
saidScrooge.
“BecauseIfellinlove.”
“Becauseyoufellinlove!”
growledScrooge,asifthatweretheonlyonethingintheworldmore
ridicule
ridiculous
thanamerryChristmas.
“Goodafternoon!”
“Nay,uncle,butyounevercametoseemebeforethathappened.
Whygiveitasareasonfornotcomingnow?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iwantnothingfromyou;
Iasknothingofyou;
whycannotwebefriends?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iamsorry,withallmyheart,tofindyousoresolute.
Wehaveneverhadanyquarrel,towhichIhavebeenaparty.
ButIhavemadethe
procès
trial
inhomagetoChristmas,andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothelast.
SoAMerryChristmas,uncle!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
“AndAHappyNewYear!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
His
neveu
nephew
lefttheroomwithoutanangryword,notwithstanding.
Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthegreetingsofthe
saison
season
ontheclerk,who,coldashewas,waswarmerthanScrooge;
forhereturnedthemcordially.
“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;
whooverheardhim:
“myclerk,withfifteenshillingsaweek,andawifeandfamily,talkingaboutamerryChristmas.
I’llretiretoBedlam.”
Thislunatic,inlettingScrooge’s
neveu
nephew
out,hadlettwootherpeoplein.Theywereportlygentlemen,pleasanttobehold,andnowstood,withtheirhatsoff,inScrooge’soffice.
Theyhadbooksandpapersintheirhands,andbowedtohim.
“ScroogeandMarley’s,Ibelieve,”saidoneofthegentlemen,referringtohislist.
“HaveIthepleasureofaddressingMr.Scrooge,orMr.Marley?”
“Mr.
Marleyhasbeendeadthesesevenyears,”Scroogereplied.
“Hediedsevenyearsago,thisverynight.”
“Wehavenodoubthisliberalityiswellrepresentedbyhissurvivingpartner,”saidthe
monsieur
gentleman
,presentinghiscredentials.
Itcertainlywas;
fortheyhadbeentwokindredspirits.
Attheominousword“liberality,”Scroogefrowned,andshookhishead,andhandedthecredentialsback.
“Atthisfestive
saison
season
oftheyear,Mr.Scrooge,”saidthe
monsieur
gentleman
,takingupapen,“itismorethanusuallydesirablethatweshouldmakesomeslightprovisionforthePooranddestitute,who
souffrent
suffer
greatlyatthepresenttime.
Manythousandsareinwantofcommonnecessaries;
hundredsofthousandsareinwantof
commun
common
comforts,sir.”
“Aretherenoprisons?”
askedScrooge.
“Plentyofprisons,”saidthe
monsieur
gentleman
,layingdownthepenagain.
“AndtheUnionworkhouses?”
demandedScrooge.
“Aretheystillinoperation?”
“Theyare.
Still,”returnedthe
monsieur
gentleman
,“IwishIcouldsaytheywerenot.”
“TheTreadmillandthePoorLawareinfullvigour,then?”
saidScrooge.
“Bothverybusy,sir.”
“Oh!
Iwasafraid,fromwhatyousaidatfirst,thatsomethinghadoccurredtostopthemintheirusefulcourse,”saidScrooge.
“I’mverygladtohearit.”
“UndertheimpressionthattheyscarcelyfurnishChristiancheerofmindorbodytothemultitude,”returnedthe
monsieur
gentleman
,“afewofusareendeavouringtoraiseafundtobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink,andmeansofwarmth.
Wechoosethistime,becauseitisatime,ofallothers,whenWantiskeenlyfelt,andAbundancerejoices.
WhatshallIputyoudownfor?”
“Nothing!”
Scroogereplied.
“Youwishtobeanonymous?”
“Iwishtobeleftalone,”saidScrooge.
“SinceyouaskmewhatIwish,gentlemen,thatismyanswer.