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
register
ofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman,the
greffier
clerk
,theundertaker,andthechiefmourner.
Scroogesignedit:
andScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change,foranythinghechosetoputhishandto.
OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Mind!
Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyownknowledge,whatthereis
particulièrement
particularly
deadaboutadoor-nail.
Imighthavebeeninclined,myself,to
considérer
regard
acoffin-nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryinthetrade.
Butthe
sagesse
wisdom
ofourancestorsisinthesimile;
andmyunhallowedhandsshallnot
dérangeront
disturb
it,ortheCountry’sdonefor.
Youwilltherefore
permettrez
permit
metorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Scroogeknewhewasdead?
Ofcoursehedid.
Howcoulditbeotherwise?
ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears.
Scroogewashis
seul
sole
executor,hissoleadministrator,his
seul
sole
assign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,his
seul
sole
friend,andsolemourner.
AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythesadevent,butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthefuneral,andsolemniseditwithanundoubted
affaire
bargain
.
ThementionofMarley’sfuneralbringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom.
ThereisnodoubtthatMarleywasdead.
Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingtorelate.
IfwewerenotperfectlyconvincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan,therewouldbenothingmore
remarquable
remarkable
inhistakinga
promenade
stroll
atnight,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
generous
fire;
secret,andself-contained,and
solitaire
solitary
asanoyster.
Thecoldwithinhimfrozehisoldfeatures,nippedhispointednose,shrivelledhis
joue
cheek
,stiffenedhisgait;
madehiseyesred,histhinlipsblue;
andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgratingvoice.
Afrostyrimewasonhishead,andonhiseyebrows,andhiswiry
menton
chin
.
Hecarriedhisownlow
température
temperature
alwaysaboutwithhim;
heicedhisofficeinthedog-days;
anddidn’tthawitonedegreeatChristmas.
ExternalheatandcoldhadlittleinfluenceonScrooge.
No
chaleur
warmth
couldwarm,nowintryweatherchillhim.
Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofallingsnowwasmoreintentuponitspurpose,nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty.
Foulweatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim.
Theheaviestrain,andsnow,andhail,andsleet,could
vanter
boast
oftheadvantageoverhiminonlyonerespect.
Theyoften“camedown”handsomely,andScroogeneverdid.
Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,“MydearScrooge,howareyou?
Whenwillyoucometoseeme?”
Nobeggars
supplié
implored
himtobestowa
bagatelle
trifle
,nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeinquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,ofScrooge.
Eventheblindmen’sdogsappearedtoknowhim;
andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;
andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,“Noeyeatallisbetterthananevileye,darkmaster!”
ButwhatdidScroogecare!
Itwastheverythingheliked.
Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife,warningallhuman
sympathie
sympathy
tokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescall“nuts”toScrooge.
Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.
Itwascold,
sombre
bleak
,bitingweather:
foggywithal:
andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthe
trottoir
pavement
stonestowarmthem.
Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquitedarkalready—ithadnotbeenlightallday—andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddysmearsuponthepalpablebrownair.
The
brouillard
fog
camepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwasso
dense
dense
without,thatalthoughthecourtwasofthenarrowest,thehousesoppositeweremerephantoms.
Toseethedingy
nuage
cloud
comedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelivedhardby,andwas
brasser
brewing
onalargescale.
ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhis
greffier
clerk
,whoinadismallittlecellbeyond,asortoftank,wascopyingletters.
Scroogehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuchsmallerthatitlookedlikeone
charbon
coal
.
Buthecouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthecoal-boxinhisownroom;
andsosurelyasthe
greffier
clerk
cameinwiththe
pelle
shovel
,themasterpredictedthatitwouldbenecessaryforthemtopart.
Whereforethe
greffier
clerk
putonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarmhimselfatthe
bougie
candle
;
inwhicheffort,notbeingamanofastrongimagination,hefailed.
“AmerryChristmas,uncle!
Godsaveyou!”
criedacheerfulvoice.
ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’snephew,whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhisapproach.
“Bah!”
saidScrooge,“Humbug!”
Hehadsoheatedhimselfwithrapidwalkinginthe
brouillard
fog
andfrost,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
dozen
ofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou?
IfIcouldworkmywill,”saidScroogeindignantly,“everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith‘MerryChristmas’onhislips,shouldbe
bouilli
boiled
withhisownpudding,andburiedwitha
pieu
stake
ofhollythroughhisheart.
Heshould!”
“Uncle!”
supplié
pleaded
thenephew.
“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
calendar
oftheyear,whenmenandwomenseembyoneconsenttoopentheirshut-uphearts
librement
freely
,andtothinkofpeoplebelowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow-passengerstothegrave,andnotanotherraceofcreaturesboundonotherjourneys.
Andtherefore,uncle,thoughithasneverputascrapofgoldorsilverinmypocket,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;
andIsay,Godblessit!”
The
commis
clerk
intheTankinvoluntarily
applaudi
applauded
.
Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety,hepokedthefire,and
éteint
extinguished
thelastfrailsparkforever.
“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyoursituation!
You’requiteapowerful
orateur
speaker
,sir,”headded,turningtohisnephew.
“Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament.”
“Don’tbeangry,uncle.
Come!
Dinewithusto-morrow.”
Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim—yes,indeedhedid.
Hewentthewhole
longueur
length
oftheexpression,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
homage
toChristmas,andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothelast.
SoAMerryChristmas,uncle!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
“AndAHappyNewYear!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
Hisnephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword,notwithstanding.
Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthe
salutations
greetings
oftheseasononthe
greffier
clerk
,who,coldashewas,was
chaud
warmer
thanScrooge;
forhereturnedthemcordially.
“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;
whooverheardhim:
“my
greffier
clerk
,withfifteenshillingsaweek,andawifeandfamily,talkingaboutamerryChristmas.
I’ll
retirer
retire
toBedlam.”
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
ominous
word“liberality,”Scroogefrowned,andshookhishead,andhandedthecredentialsback.
“Atthis
festive
festive
seasonoftheyear,Mr.Scrooge,”saidthegentleman,takingupapen,“itismorethanusually
souhaitable
desirable
thatweshouldmakesome
légère
slight
provisionforthePooranddestitute,whosuffer
grandement
greatly
atthepresenttime.
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
occurred
tostopthemintheirusefulcourse,”saidScrooge.
“I’mverygladtohearit.”
“Undertheimpressionthatthey
à peine
scarcely
furnishChristiancheerofmindorbodytothemultitude,”returnedthegentleman,“afewofusareendeavouringtoraisea
fonds
fund
tobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink,andmeansof
chaleur
warmth
.
Wechoosethistime,becauseitisatime,ofallothers,whenWantiskeenlyfelt,andAbundancerejoices.
WhatshallIputyoudownfor?”
“Nothing!”
Scrooge
répondu
replied
.
“Youwishtobeanonymous?”
“Iwishtobeleftalone,”saidScrooge.
“SinceyouaskmewhatIwish,gentlemen,thatismyanswer.