Since we are engaged in giving details as to what the convent of the Petit-Picpus was in former times， and since we have ventured to open a window on that discreet retreat， the reader will permit us one other little digression， utterly foreign to this book， but characteristic and useful， since it shows that the cloister even has its original figures.
In the Little Convent there was a centenarian who came from the Abbey of Fontevrault. She had even been in society before the Revolution. She talked a great deal of M. de Miromesnil， Keeper of the Seals under Louis XVI. and of a Presidentess Duplat， with whom she had been very intimate. It was her pleasure and her vanity to drag in these names on every pretext. She told wonders of the Abbey of Fontevrault，-- that it was like a city， and that there were streets in the monastery.
She talked with a Picard accent which amused the pupils. Every year， she solemnly renewed her vows， and at the moment of taking the oath， she said to the priest， "Monseigneur Saint-Francois gave it to Monseigneur Saint-Julien， Monseigneur Saint-Julien gave it to Monseigneur Saint-Eusebius， Monseigneur Saint-Eusebius gave it to Monseigneur Saint-Procopius， etc.， etc.; and thus I give it to you， father." And the school-girls would begin to laugh， not in their sleeves， but under their veils; charming little stifled laughs which made the vocal mothers frown.
On another occasion， the centenarian was telling stories. She said that in her youth the Bernardine monks were every whit as good as the mousquetaires. It was a century which spoke through her， but it was the eighteenth century. She told about the custom of the four wines， which existed before the Revolution in Champagne and Bourgogne. When a great personage， a marshal of France， a prince， a duke， and a peer， traversed a town in Burgundy or Champagne， the city fathers came out to harangue him and presented him with four silver gondolas into which they had poured four different sorts of wine. On the first goblet this inscription could be read， monkey wine; on the second， lion wine; on the third， sheep wine; on the fourth， hog wine. These four legends express the four stages descended by the drunkard; the first， intoxication， which enlivens; the second， that which irritates; the third， that which dulls; and the fourth， that which brutalizes.
In a cupboard， under lock and key， she kept a mysterious object of which she thought a great deal. The rule of Fontevrault did not forbid this. She would not show this object to anyone. She shut herself up， which her rule allowed her to do， and hid herself， every time that she desired to contemplate it. If she heard a footstep in the corridor， she closed the cupboard again as hastily as it was possible with her aged hands. As soon as it was mentioned to her， she became silent， she who was so fond of talking. The most curious were baffled by her silence and the most tenacious by her obstinacy. Thus it furnished a subject of comment for all those who were unoccupied or bored in the convent. What could that treasure of the centenarian be， which was so precious and so secret? Some holy book， no doubt? Some unique chaplet? Some authentic relic? They lost themselves in conjectures. When the poor old woman died， they rushed to her cupboard more hastily than was fitting， perhaps， and opened it. They found the object beneath a triple linen cloth， like some consecrated paten. It was a Faenza platter representing little Loves flitting away pursued by apothecary lads armed with enormous syringes. The chase abounds in grimaces and in comical postures. One of the charming little Loves is already fairly spitted. He is resisting， fluttering his tiny wings， and still making an effort to fly， but the dancer is laughing with a satanical air. Moral: Love conquered by the colic. This platter， which is very curious， and which had， possibly， the honor of furnishing Moliere with an idea， was still in existence in September， 1845; it was for sale by a bric-a-brac merchant in the Boulevard Beaumarchais.
This good old woman would not receive any visits from outside because， said she， the parlor is too gloomy.
我们既然在谈小比克布斯修院已往的一些琐事，也敢于把那禁宫的一扇窗子敞了开来，读者谅能允许我们再另生一小小枝节，叙述一件与本书实际无关的故事，这故事不但有它特殊之处，并对帮助我们了解那座修院的一些奇特现象也有好处。
在那小院里有个从封特弗罗修院来的百岁老人。她在革命前还是个红尘中人。她经常谈到路易十六的掌玺官米罗迈尼尔先生和她所深知的一个狄勃拉首席法官夫人。由于爱好，也由于虚荣，她无论谈什么事总要扯到那两个名字上去。她常把那封特弗罗修院说得天花乱坠，说那简直象个城市，修院里有许多大街。
她谈话，富有庇卡底人的风度，使寄读生们听了特别高兴。她每年要隆重地发一次誓愿，在发愿时，她总向那神甫说：“圣方济各大人向圣于连大人发过这个愿，圣于连大人向圣欧塞勃大人发过这个愿，圣欧塞勃大人向圣普罗柯帕大人发过这个愿，”等等，“因此我也向您，我的神父，发这个愿。”寄读生们听了，都咯咯地笑，不是在兜帽底下笑，而是在面纱底下笑，多么可爱的抑制着的娇笑啊，这使那些参议嬷嬷都皱起眉来。另外一次，那百岁老人讲故事，她说“在她的青年时代，伯尔纳修士不肯在火枪手面前让步。”那是一个世纪在谈话，不过，这是十八世纪。她叙述香槟和勃艮第人献四道酒的风俗。革命前，如果有一个大人物，法兰西大元帅、亲王、公爵和世卿，经过勃艮第或香槟的一个城市，那城里的文武官员便来向他致欢迎词，并用四个银爵杯，敬给他四种不同的酒。在第一个爵杯上刻着“猴酒”两字，第二个上刻着“狮酒”，第三个上刻着“羊酒”，第四个上刻着“猪酒”那四种铭文标志着人饮酒入醉的四个阶段：第一阶段是活跃阶段，第二，激怒，第三，迟钝，最后，胡涂。
她有一件非常喜爱的东西，老锁在一个柜子里，秘不告人。封特弗罗修院的院规并不禁止她那样做。她从不把那件东西给任何人看。她独自关在屋里，那是她的院规允许的，偷偷欣赏那东西。如果她听见过道里有人走路，那双枯手便急忙锁上柜门。一到人家向她谈到这事时，她又立即闭口，尽管她平时最爱谈话。最好奇的人在她那种沉默面前，最顽强的人在她那种固执面前也都毫无办法。这也就成了修院里所有一切闲得无聊的人苦心探讨的题材。那百岁老人那样珍借、那样隐藏的东西究竟是什么宝贝呢？这无疑是本什么天书了？某种独一无二的念珠？某种经过考证的遗物？百般猜测也无从打破那闷葫芦。在可怜的老妇人死了后，大家跑到那柜子跟前棗按理说，也许不该跑得那么快棗开了柜门。那东西找出来了，好象保护一个祝福过的祭品盘似的，裹在三层布里。那是一个法恩扎①窑的盘子，上面画的是几个当药剂师的孩子，手里拿着其大无比的注射器，在追逐一群飞着的爱神。追逐的神情和姿态各各不同，但却都能引人发笑。在那些娇小可爱的爱神中，已有一个被注射器扎通了。它仍在挣扎，鼓动着翅膀想飞走，但是那个滑稽小丑望着它发出邪恶的笑。含义是爱情在痛苦下面屈服了。那个盘子确是稀有之物，也许曾荣幸地触发过莫里哀的文思，它在一八四五年还在，存放在博马舍林荫大道的一家古董店里待售。
①法恩扎（Faenza），意大利城市。
那个慈祥的老妇人生前从不接待外来的亲友，“因为，”她说，“那会客室太阴惨了。”
