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A Christmas Carol | Gradually Hardening French B2 Translation Books

A Christmas Carol | Gradually Hardening French B2 Translation Books

Discover the advantages of this innovative translation method, designed to cater to your learning needs. You can select your preferred difficulty level, ensuring a well-balanced challenge that isn't too overwhelming. This technique sharpens your comprehension skills by encouraging you to derive meaning from context, minimizing the need for direct translations. While some words are purposefully obscured to promote contextual guessing, looking up unclear terms is always an option. With this method, language learning becomes both accessible and enjoyable, blending challenge with support. Explore translated classics and experience the excitement of learning through literature.

STAVEONE.
MARLEY’SGHOST.
Marleywasdead:
tobeginwith.
Thereisnodoubtwhateveraboutthat.
The
registre
registerofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman,the
greffier
clerk,theundertaker,andthechiefmourner.
Scroogesignedit:
andScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change,foranythinghechosetoputhishandto.
OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Mind!
Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyownknowledge,whatthereis
particulièrement
particularlydeadaboutadoor-nail.
Imighthavebeeninclined,myself,to
considérer
regardacoffin-nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryinthetrade.
Butthe
sagesse
wisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile;
andmyunhallowedhandsshallnot
dérangeront
disturbit,ortheCountry’sdonefor.
Youwilltherefore
permettrez
permitmetorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Scroogeknewhewasdead?
Ofcoursehedid.
Howcoulditbeotherwise?
ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears.
Scroogewashis
seul
soleexecutor,hissoleadministrator,his
seul
soleassign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,his
seul
solefriend,andsolemourner.
AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythesadevent,butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthefuneral,andsolemniseditwithanundoubted
affaire
bargain.
ThementionofMarley’sfuneralbringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom.
ThereisnodoubtthatMarleywasdead.
Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingtorelate.
IfwewerenotperfectlyconvincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan,therewouldbenothingmore
remarquable
remarkableinhistakinga
promenade
strollatnight,inaneasterlywind,uponhisownramparts,thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle-agedgentlemanrashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezyspot—saySaintPaul’sChurchyardforinstance—literallytoastonishhisson’sweakmind.
ScroogeneverpaintedoutOldMarley’sname.
Thereitstood,yearsafterwards,abovethewarehousedoor:
ScroogeandMarley.
ThefirmwasknownasScroogeandMarley.
SometimespeoplenewtothebusinesscalledScroogeScrooge,andsometimesMarley,butheansweredtobothnames.
Itwasallthesametohim.
Oh!
Buthewasatight-fistedhandatthegrindstone,Scrooge!
a
serre
squeezing,wrenching,grasping,scraping,clutching,covetous,old
pécheur
sinner!
Hardandsharpas
silex
flint,fromwhichnosteelhadeverstruckout
généreux
generousfire;
secret,andself-contained,and
solitaire
solitaryasanoyster.
Thecoldwithinhimfrozehisoldfeatures,nippedhispointednose,shrivelledhis
joue
cheek,stiffenedhisgait;
madehiseyesred,histhinlipsblue;
andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgratingvoice.
Afrostyrimewasonhishead,andonhiseyebrows,andhiswiry
menton
chin.
Hecarriedhisownlow
température
temperaturealwaysaboutwithhim;
heicedhisofficeinthedog-days;
anddidn’tthawitonedegreeatChristmas.
ExternalheatandcoldhadlittleinfluenceonScrooge.
No
chaleur
warmthcouldwarm,nowintryweatherchillhim.
Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofallingsnowwasmoreintentuponitspurpose,nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty.
Foulweatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim.
Theheaviestrain,andsnow,andhail,andsleet,could
vanter
boastoftheadvantageoverhiminonlyonerespect.
Theyoften“camedown”handsomely,andScroogeneverdid.
Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,“MydearScrooge,howareyou?
Whenwillyoucometoseeme?”
Nobeggars
supplié
imploredhimtobestowa
bagatelle
trifle,nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeinquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,ofScrooge.
Eventheblindmen’sdogsappearedtoknowhim;
andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;
andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,“Noeyeatallisbetterthananevileye,darkmaster!”
ButwhatdidScroogecare!
Itwastheverythingheliked.
Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife,warningallhuman
sympathie
sympathytokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescall“nuts”toScrooge.
Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.
Itwascold,
sombre
bleak,bitingweather:
foggywithal:
andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthe
trottoir
pavementstonestowarmthem.
Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquitedarkalready—ithadnotbeenlightallday—andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddysmearsuponthepalpablebrownair.
The
brouillard
fogcamepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwasso
dense
densewithout,thatalthoughthecourtwasofthenarrowest,thehousesoppositeweremerephantoms.
Toseethedingy
nuage
cloudcomedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelivedhardby,andwas
brasser
brewingonalargescale.
ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhis
greffier
clerk,whoinadismallittlecellbeyond,asortoftank,wascopyingletters.
Scroogehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuchsmallerthatitlookedlikeone
charbon
coal.
Buthecouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthecoal-boxinhisownroom;
andsosurelyasthe
greffier
clerkcameinwiththe
pelle
shovel,themasterpredictedthatitwouldbenecessaryforthemtopart.
Whereforethe
greffier
clerkputonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarmhimselfatthe
bougie
candle;
inwhicheffort,notbeingamanofastrongimagination,hefailed.
“AmerryChristmas,uncle!
Godsaveyou!”
criedacheerfulvoice.
ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’snephew,whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhisapproach.
“Bah!”
saidScrooge,“Humbug!”
Hehadsoheatedhimselfwithrapidwalkinginthe
brouillard
fogandfrost,thisnephewofScrooge’s,thathewasallinaglow;
hisfacewasruddyandhandsome;
hiseyes
scintillaient
sparkled,andhisbreathsmokedagain.
“Christmasahumbug,uncle!”
saidScrooge’snephew.
“Youdon’tmeanthat,Iamsure?”
“Ido,”saidScrooge.
“MerryChristmas!
Whatrighthaveyoutobemerry?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemerry?
You’repoorenough.”
“Come,then,”returnedthenephewgaily.
“Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemorose?
You’rerichenough.”
Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthespurofthemoment,said,“Bah!”
again;
andfolloweditupwith“Humbug.”
“Don’tbecross,uncle!”
saidthenephew.
“WhatelsecanIbe,”returnedtheuncle,“whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthis?
MerryChristmas!
OutuponmerryChristmas!
What’sChristmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithoutmoney;
atimeforfindingyourselfayearolder,butnotanhour
riche
richer;
atimeforbalancingyourbooksandhavingeveryitemin’emthrougharound
douzaine
dozenofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou?
IfIcouldworkmywill,”saidScroogeindignantly,“everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith‘MerryChristmas’onhislips,shouldbe
bouilli
boiledwithhisownpudding,andburiedwitha
pieu
stakeofhollythroughhisheart.
Heshould!”
“Uncle!”
supplié
pleadedthenephew.
“Nephew!”
returnedtheunclesternly,“keepChristmasinyourownway,andletmekeepitinmine.”
“Keepit!”
repeatedScrooge’snephew.
“Butyoudon’tkeepit.”
“Letmeleaveitalone,then,”saidScrooge.
“Muchgoodmayitdoyou!
Muchgoodithaseverdoneyou!”
“TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood,bywhichIhavenotprofited,Idaresay,”returnedthenephew.
“Christmasamongtherest.
ButIamsureIhavealwaysthoughtofChristmastime,whenithascomeround—apartfromthevenerationduetoitssacrednameand
origine
origin,ifanythingbelongingtoitcanbeapartfromthat—asagoodtime;
akind,forgiving,
charité
charitable,pleasanttime;
theonlytimeIknowof,inthelong
calendrier
calendaroftheyear,whenmenandwomenseembyoneconsenttoopentheirshut-uphearts
librement
freely,andtothinkofpeoplebelowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow-passengerstothegrave,andnotanotherraceofcreaturesboundonotherjourneys.
Andtherefore,uncle,thoughithasneverputascrapofgoldorsilverinmypocket,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;
andIsay,Godblessit!”
The
commis
clerkintheTankinvoluntarily
applaudi
applauded.
Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety,hepokedthefire,and
éteint
extinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever.
“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyoursituation!
You’requiteapowerful
orateur
speaker,sir,”headded,turningtohisnephew.
“Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament.”
“Don’tbeangry,uncle.
Come!
Dinewithusto-morrow.”
Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim—yes,indeedhedid.
Hewentthewhole
longueur
lengthoftheexpression,andsaidthathewouldseehiminthatextremityfirst.
“Butwhy?”
criedScrooge’snephew.
“Why?”
“Whydidyougetmarried?”
saidScrooge.
“BecauseIfellinlove.”
“Becauseyoufellinlove!”
growledScrooge,asifthatweretheonlyonethingintheworldmoreridiculousthanamerryChristmas.
“Goodafternoon!”
“Nay,uncle,butyounevercametoseemebeforethathappened.
Whygiveitasareasonfornotcomingnow?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iwantnothingfromyou;
Iasknothingofyou;
whycannotwebefriends?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iamsorry,withallmyheart,tofindyousoresolute.
Wehaveneverhadany
querelle
quarrel,towhichIhavebeenaparty.
ButIhavemadethetrialin
hommage
homagetoChristmas,andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothelast.
SoAMerryChristmas,uncle!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
“AndAHappyNewYear!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
Hisnephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword,notwithstanding.
Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthe
salutations
greetingsoftheseasononthe
greffier
clerk,who,coldashewas,was
chaud
warmerthanScrooge;
forhereturnedthemcordially.
“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;
whooverheardhim:
“my
greffier
clerk,withfifteenshillingsaweek,andawifeandfamily,talkingaboutamerryChristmas.
I’ll
retirer
retiretoBedlam.”
Thislunatic,inlettingScrooge’snephewout,hadlettwootherpeoplein.Theywereportlygentlemen,pleasanttobehold,andnowstood,withtheirhatsoff,inScrooge’soffice.
Theyhadbooksandpapersintheirhands,andbowedtohim.
“ScroogeandMarley’s,Ibelieve,”saidoneofthegentlemen,referringtohislist.
“HaveIthepleasureofaddressingMr.Scrooge,orMr.Marley?”
“Mr.
Marleyhasbeendeadthesesevenyears,”Scrooge
répondit
replied.
“Hediedsevenyearsago,thisverynight.”
“Wehavenodoubthisliberalityiswellrepresentedbyhissurvivingpartner,”saidthegentleman,presentinghiscredentials.
Itcertainlywas;
fortheyhadbeentwokindredspirits.
Atthe
sinistre
ominousword“liberality,”Scroogefrowned,andshookhishead,andhandedthecredentialsback.
“Atthis
festive
festiveseasonoftheyear,Mr.Scrooge,”saidthegentleman,takingupapen,“itismorethanusually
souhaitable
desirablethatweshouldmakesome
légère
slightprovisionforthePooranddestitute,whosuffer
grandement
greatlyatthepresenttime.
Manythousandsareinwantofcommonnecessaries;
hundredsofthousandsareinwantofcommoncomforts,sir.”
“Aretherenoprisons?”
askedScrooge.
“Plentyofprisons,”saidthegentleman,layingdownthepenagain.
“AndtheUnionworkhouses?”
demandedScrooge.
“Aretheystillinoperation?”
“Theyare.
Still,”returnedthegentleman,“IwishIcouldsaytheywerenot.”
“TheTreadmillandthePoorLawareinfullvigour,then?”
saidScrooge.
“Bothverybusy,sir.”
“Oh!
Iwasafraid,fromwhatyousaidatfirst,thatsomethinghad
produit
occurredtostopthemintheirusefulcourse,”saidScrooge.
“I’mverygladtohearit.”
“Undertheimpressionthatthey
à peine
scarcelyfurnishChristiancheerofmindorbodytothemultitude,”returnedthegentleman,“afewofusareendeavouringtoraisea
fonds
fundtobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink,andmeansof
chaleur
warmth.
Wechoosethistime,becauseitisatime,ofallothers,whenWantiskeenlyfelt,andAbundancerejoices.
WhatshallIputyoudownfor?”
“Nothing!”
Scrooge
répondu
replied.
“Youwishtobeanonymous?”
“Iwishtobeleftalone,”saidScrooge.
“SinceyouaskmewhatIwish,gentlemen,thatismyanswer.