shadow of britain

Chapter 485: Criminal, but bourgeois style
Julia is cold but not heartless.

Pulling back her trembling hand from his,

Finally, she squeezed his hand gently.
Although it is light, it is intoxicating.

It's hard to think about it, it's hard to be at peace,

The heart is really unpredictable.

—George Byron, Don Juan

Each place has its own customs, and people in each place have their own favorite drinks.

In Europe, the most beer is consumed in Brussels, Belgium, the most spirits are consumed in Stockholm, Sweden, Amsterdam, the Netherlands, the most gin is consumed, the most coffee is consumed in Constantinople, and London is the home of whiskey.

Of course, England invented whiskey, and the Irish and Scots obviously have different opinions on who invented whiskey.

If the English insist on saying that whiskey was invented by them, the Scots could at some point give up the honor of inventing whiskey and instead support the Irish in competing with the English on the issue of whiskey.

The English also knew that they were at a disadvantage in this regard, because English drunkards could never compare to Irish drunkards. So whenever the Irish raised the question of who invented whiskey, the English had no choice but to return the title to the Irish, and at the end they would pretend to be generous and coldly add: "Let the poor Irish have this honor, because since they invented whiskey, they have never invented anything else."

The English, Scots and Irish all like to drink whiskey, but what about the French?
At least as far as Arthur could see, the French in Paris were most fond of absinthe.

Perhaps due to the arrogant temperament of Parisians, they want to be the best in everything, even drinking. Parisians are also the best in alcoholism.

In Paris, even the ragged ones enjoy a life of luxury.

If the ancient Greek philosopher Diogenes, who lived in a barrel, were resurrected, he would probably be happy to live near the Place Maubert in Paris, which is just what he likes.

As Diogenes famously said: The sun visits filthy places, but is not defiled by them.

Although the people who often come here are not rich, this does not affect their enjoyment like rich people.

There are pubs everywhere around the Maubert Square, but although they are all pubs, everyone calls them by different names.

The places where the upper class drink are all kinds of private clubs where strangers are not allowed to enter, while the places where the middle class drink are all kinds of old brands, such as Le Procope, which was frequented by Voltaire, Rousseau, Diderot, Robespierre, Danton and others.

The taverns near the Place Maubert are neither private clubs nor frequented by glamorous celebrities. Even the names that Parisians call them are unpleasant. The taverns here are collectively called wine barrels, and their signs are also very simple and crude. The most popular taverns here are called "Milling House" and "Slaughterhouse".

"The suburban tavern, the revelry tavern, the green leaf tavern, the drunken tavern, the cantina, the retail hotel, the barrel, the wine shop, the wine vat, the camel caravan's wine shed, I prove that they are all good places. I am a man who loves to enjoy life in the moment. Although I often eat forty sous a meal at the Vaele Hotel, it does not mean that I don't know how to wrap a naked Cleopatra with a Persian carpet. Oh... Where is my Cleopatra tonight? Ah! Beautiful girl, it's you, hello!"

Arthur sat in front of the dirty and greasy bar with a glass of barley beer. He took small sips of it while staring at the drunk Dumas not far away. The fat man was sexually harassing the girl at the next table.

Heine probably didn't come to such places often. This poet, who was always sharp-tongued, became weak-kneed at such a critical moment.

He sat stiffly beside Arthur. Seeing Dumas's performance, Heine wanted to find a hole to hide in. "This is fucked! Alexander, this guy got drunk not long after arriving. He looks like an ordinary gangster now. How can he be on a mission?"

"Heinrich, Alexander is in pretty good shape. A lecher is a perfect match for a place like this. Although Alexander is just playing himself, I think he plays it pretty well."

Arthur's eyes swept through every corner of the tavern, and he was also selecting a target to attack: "By the way, do you know why you have a handsome face but can never woo your two cousins, while even though Alexander is a fat man, there are still many ladies who are crazy about him?"

Heine paused with his hand holding the wine glass. He turned his head to look at Arthur and asked sincerely, "I'd like to hear more about it."

"There is a sentence in Machiavelli's The Prince: I always think that being bold is much better than being cautious and suspicious. Because fate is like a woman. If you want her to obey you, you must beat her and abuse her. We can see that compared with those who act calmly, fate is more willing to be conquered by those who are bold. Therefore, fate will be like a woman, she favors young people. It's just that young people are less cautious than middle-aged and elderly people. However, instead of being more rude, it is this rudeness that can subdue her more boldly."

Arthur flipped a coin and said, "Of course, I'm not asking you to hit a woman. Heinrich, what I mean is that you are too timid. You can never make up your mind, so you always act half a beat slower. You told me before that when you finally made up your mind to bravely pursue your cousin, you found out that one of them was already married and the other was engaged. While you were hesitating, Alexander, who was so bold and shameless, had already taken action."

Heine snorted disdainfully: "You say I'm timid? I dare to write a book to scold Metternich for having hemorrhoids on his buttocks. Is there anyone in the world who is more courageous than me?"

"Yes! That's why I don't understand." Arthur grabbed the coin that was thrown into the air: "Are your two cousins ​​more intimidating than Metternich? If so, they should be the prime ministers of Austria."

Heine blushed and argued, "I'm not as incompetent as you think. In fact, I wrote love letters to them before they got married, but I was rejected. They said they only regarded me as a brother. In this situation, what can I do?"

"What should we do?" Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Don't you Jews have a lot of brothers and sisters? If Alexander was in your position, he would go and look through the family tree to find his next sister the next day. As for you, you would be hanged by two trees."

"Oh! Arthur!" Heine was furious at what Arthur said. He immediately retorted: "I was not tied to two pieces of wood. That's what guys like you do! I heard from Alexander that you plagiarized Jesus in London and staged a resurrection!"

Arthur was not angry, but nodded in acceptance: "Yes, my debut was very successful."

"Are you mocking my poor debut?"

"Heinrich, I didn't say that. I know poets have divergent ideas, but don't make too many associations. You probably lived in Prussia for too long, so your thinking is exactly the same as the Prussian government. No matter what you hear or see, you think it is a satire on the government."

"I……"

Heine was choked by Arthur and couldn't utter a complete sentence. After holding it in for a long time, he drank the beer in the glass in one gulp, put a finger on his collar to loosen his tie, then gave Arthur a middle finger and slammed the table, saying: "I'll let you see today that there are some things I don't do not because I can't, but because I don't want to."

After saying this, Heine moved his stool away, and with a red face, he plunged into the crowd of girls: "Ladies! I am so excited today, I want to dedicate a poem to you!"

Arthur saw this scene and just curled his lips slightly: "Most people are only one finger away from madness. When he starts pointing at things with his middle finger instead of his index finger, people around him will think you are a cynical guy. This is really a strange thing."

Agares leaned against the bar and burped. The Red Devil mocked maliciously, "Oh, my dear Arthur, you pushed Heine into the world of pleasure, but what about you? You just pushed him out to shield him from the arrows, while you hid behind and enjoyed a moment of peace in the dangerous battle."

Arthur glanced at him and said, "Come on, Agares, your level of provocation has no effect on me at all."

"Really? You think I'm not stating the facts, but provoking you? If so, then why are you sitting here?"

Agares put on his glasses, took out his thick parchment book and flipped through it. Suddenly he pointed at a page and shouted, "Oh, I see! Really good anglers often sit on the shore and wait for the fish to bite the hook! Arthur, are you thinking of that? Coincidentally, there are a few stupid fish that want to bite the hook today."

After Agares said this, he exploded into a burst of pink smoke and disappeared without a trace.

Arthur did not try to stop him. Since coming to Paris, the Red Devil has been missing intermittently. According to Arthur's understanding of him, this guy is probably out stealing wine. France is the main production area of ​​many good wines. The significance of Agares coming to Paris is almost the same as Barr entering a public toilet.

However, Arthur did not rush to find someone to take action because he had his own considerations.

There are indeed many charming girls here. The reason why Arthur doesn't like them is not because they are not beautiful enough, but because they are not close enough to the criminal leader Gwawi.

But in a bar filled with hormones, it does look strange to sit alone and drink.

If he didn't want to be exposed, after drinking this cup, Arthur would have to transform into a hardworking little bee to collect honey.

Arthur swirled the almost empty glass of wine twice and was about to drink it all.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of coins hitting the bar.

"Give me a glass of beer, Edmund, and don't be stingy. Give me more honey."

"I see, Clara, when have I ever lacked you?"

The bartender put down the cup he was cleaning, turned on the tap of the barrel, filled a glass with beer, then flicked his wrist against the bar, and the beer passed in front of Arthur's eyes and landed beside him.

Arthur glanced to the side and saw a girl sitting on the stool where Heine had just sat.

This girl can't be said to be very beautiful, but she is very charming. Her blue-gray eyes are painted with rouge, her chest is dazzlingly white, and the folds of her petticoat can be seen under her charming short skirt. The corset outlines her body lines very clearly. Under the skirt are thighs like lotus roots, and the snow-white stockings are like lotus leaves wrapped around lotus roots.

"Do you know that it is very rude to peek at others like this?" The girl named Clara smiled slightly. Although her words were meant to blame, there was no blame in her tone. "Especially when a girl is thinking about something." Arthur did not refute, but agreed with the other party.

"How do you know I'm worried?" Clara picked up the beer cup that she couldn't close with both hands and took a sip: "Huh... Are you worried too?"

Arthur stared at his empty wine glass and shook his head gently, "It doesn't matter whether I have any worries or not. My life is over. Why should I make myself uncomfortable at the last moment of my life?"

"Huh?" Clara looked at the young handsome boy in front of her and said, "Are you sick?"

Arthur smiled self-deprecatingly: "I have the most incurable disease in the world."

Clara suddenly stood up in fear when she heard this: "Are you infected with smallpox or cholera?"

Arthur waved his hand: "Ma'am, don't be afraid, I just have the disease of poverty, this disease is not contagious."

“Hahaha.” Clara’s laughter was like a wind chime, and she sat back down again. “You are such an interesting person. Your poverty disease is not an infectious disease, but it is an epidemic in Paris. There are so many people suffering from poverty disease. Do we all have to die?”

"That's different." Arthur held his head and said, "I owe someone 10,000 francs. I can't pay it back no matter what. The creditor threatened me that if I don't pay it back, he will send me to prison."

Clara seemed to have thought of something when she heard this. She comforted him, "So you thought of committing suicide because you owed 10,000 francs. You are really a child who has not grown up. You neither understand people nor are you sensible."

Arthur turned his head and looked at her: "Why do you say that?"

Clara took a big gulp of beer. "Sir, the value of a person's future depends entirely on his own estimation. You estimate that your future is worth less than 10,000 francs. But if I had money, I would pay more than that to bribe you."

"Come on." Arthur said dejectedly, "I can't do anything. If I had known this, I should have learned a craft instead of studying history in college."

"Are you a college student?" Clara straightened up when she heard that Arthur had been to college. "I guessed it. You don't look like someone who should drink here at all."

"You flatter me too much." Arthur said self-deprecatingly, "These days, people who know the past are not valuable. People only pursue those who can grasp the present or predict the future. That's why charlatans and fortune tellers are both very profitable."

Clara propped her head on the bar with both hands and tilted her head to look at him: "You said you are a college student studying history, but I see you are not very familiar with history. There are actually two kinds of history: one is the official, deceptive history, used as a textbook, and read to the prince. The other is the secret history, which can reveal the real reasons for national affairs, and is a shameful history.

Let me tell you a little story you don't know. There was an ambitious young priest who wanted to enter politics. He flattered a confidant of the queen. The confidant appreciated him and gave him a seat in the Council of State, equivalent to the rank of a minister. One night, a man who thought he was enthusiastic wrote to the ambitious young priest, saying that his benefactor was in danger.

Because the king thought he was deceived by the queen's confidant, he was furious, so he planned to kill the confidant when he entered the palace the next morning. I ask you, little friend, if you receive this letter, what will you do? "

Arthur pondered for a moment and said, "Notify my benefactor immediately."

"You are so naive." Clara smiled. "The actual situation is that the young priest was thinking that if the queen wanted to kill my benefactor, he would definitely die. This letter came too late. So he still slept until noon as usual and let his benefactor be killed by the queen."

"He is such a beast."

Clara said helplessly: "All the big men are beasts. The man I just mentioned is Cardinal Richelieu, and his benefactor is Marshal Tanker. You see, you said you learned history in school, but the history taught in school is all empty content, just some years and facts, and even most of them are quite unreliable.

What's the point of knowing Joan of Arc, Louis XIV, and Richelieu? Don't you know that Britain and France once had the opportunity to be ruled by the same royal family, so that our two countries could beat the shit out of the whole of Europe. You know that the Medici family jumped from an ordinary small merchant to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, but do you know how they became aristocrats? "

Arthur's mouth was half open in surprise. Although his previous emotions were somewhat acted, the surprise at this moment was not acted.

This girl is indeed quite different from the 'Cleopatra' wrapped in a blanket that Dumas pursued.

"you……"

Seeing Arthur's bewildered expression, Clara couldn't help but burst out laughing: "Do you feel like you spent so much money to go to college, but in the end all your studies were in vain?"

Arthur nodded slightly and said, "Miss, you are even more knowledgeable than the professor. If I had met you earlier, perhaps I would not be in this situation now."

Clara clinked her wine glass with Arthur's. "You are such a joke. I can't even recognize a few words. How can I be worthy of the word erudite?"

Arthur frowned and asked, "Are you being modest?"

"No."

Clara shook her head and said, "What I said was told to me by an old customer in the past. He is a very learned man. Like you, he also went to college and worked as a lawyer and a journalist. When I first met him, he was still very poor, but I could see that he would become successful sooner or later. I can't tell history as well as he does, but I know how to judge people, and he did become successful later, but after he became successful, he never came here again."

As Clara finished her words, she saw a few girls passing by.

When they saw Clara sitting next to Arthur, they couldn't help but tease her, "Clara, you didn't learn your lesson this time. Are you thinking of helping intellectuals again?"

Clara glared at them and said, "What's it to you? I earn my own money, I can spend it on whoever I want."

Arthur heard this and waved his hands to refuse, "Madam, my hole is 10,000 francs, you can't fill it."

Clara was amused by Arthur's reaction when she heard this. She raised her hand and slapped Arthur: "You are dreaming, kid. When did I ever say I would spend money on you? Even if you want me to pay, you have to spend more on me first today!"

Arthur raised his hand in horror: "I have no money. I can't even pay the rent."

"Then why are you here drinking?"

"I can still afford to drink, but I can only drink a few glasses at most. After these few glasses, I plan to sleep under the bridge tonight."

Clara rolled her eyes at him when she heard this. It seemed that this poor college student was indeed a poor fellow.

Seeing her expression, Arthur put his hands on his knees and clenched his teeth. Suddenly, as if he had made up his mind, he pushed the wine that the bartender had just brought in front of Clara: "I'll buy you a drink."

"I'm not so bad as to ask a poor fellow to buy me a drink."

"No, I just wanted to ask you. Even if it's just for what you said just now, even though you just paraphrased it."

Clara looked at Arthur's serious expression, smiled softly, and then took the wine glass: "Well, it seems that you are not completely ignorant."

After she finished speaking, she picked up the wine glass and was about to drink.

But just as the glass was brought to her lips, Clara felt uncomfortable all over, as if someone was stabbing her mouth with a nail. She turned her eyes and finally found the source of her discomfort.

The college student just stared at her with his empty glass in his hand. His eager eyes and his slightly moving Adam's apple made Clara furious.

She drank half of the wine, then raised the back of her hand to wipe her mouth: "You look so poor, you don't look like a scholar at all. Forget it, just buy me half a glass today."

After saying this, she pushed the glass back.

At the end, she didn't forget to sarcastically say, "Little thing, you will definitely become a big shot in the future. Buying a lady a glass of wine is like asking for your life. You are even more beastly than that guy."

Arthur held the wine glass that Clara pushed back and breathed a sigh of relief. He asked seriously, "Can I take what you just said as a compliment?"

Clara said unhappily, “What do you think?”

"I feel very happy chatting with you. At least I don't have the idea of ​​committing suicide anymore." Arthur said this and his mood became depressed again: "But the matter of 10,000 francs still needs to be resolved, otherwise I will have to go to the debtor's prison in a few days."

Arthur paused and asked cautiously, "Well, Miss Clara, do you have any work that's suitable for me to do? Running errands, driving a cart, working like a slave for you, as long as there's compensation, I'll consider it."

(End of this chapter)