噺 (8) 壹 Chinese 網ωωω.χ8.1zщ.còм 哽噺繓赽捌 (一) Novel 説蛧

Although Tang Zhaozong's artillery had not yet arrived, he did not want to take the initiative to attack Tang Zhangwei's army.

However, Tang Zhaozong's subordinates were not so obedient. Tang Zhaozong's subordinates were all nobles from East Francia, and they were all very warlike with their own armies.

These people are like this because they want to gain advantage in the war, because if they win the war, or if they achieve something else. Their reputation for martial arts can spread in the land of East Francia, and secondly, these East Frankish nobles do despise Tang Zhangwei a little.

Although, for these East Francian nobles, it is a little inconceivable to despise Tang Zhangwei, but in the eyes of some East Frankish nobles, Tang Zhangwei is indeed not invincible.

In the eyes of these East Frankish aristocrats, Tang Zhangwei was just a whetstone.

An East Francian nobleman rushed towards Tang Zhangwei's army, and he took the initiative to attack, so that a group of soldiers of the East Frankish army also began to attack.

Rotten apples and onions for children. He doesn't have any of these smells, and he's in good health. Do you want him to stink? Does your own child smell it? ”

"No," said the nurse, "my child smells like a human child." ”

Terrier carefully lowered the basket back to the ground, for he felt that the anger at the nurse's stubbornness had stirred up in his breast. In the ensuing argument, he inevitably had to use his arms to make a freer posture, and he didn't want to hurt the baby. Of course, he first put his hands behind his back, and asked sharply at the nurse as he poked out his pointed belly.

"Does the claim insist that an ordinary child, and that he is a child of God after all—I must draw your attention to the fact that he has been baptized—must smell?"

"Yes," said the nurse.

And you insist that if a child doesn't smell like you think it should be, then he's a child of the devil? Thou, thou nurse Jeanne Bissier of rue Saint-Denis! ”

He stretched out his left hand, bent his index finger like a question mark, and held it menacingly in front of her. The nurse was thinking. She felt that something was wrong with the sudden transformation of the conversation into a theological question, and that she would surely lose to him in such questioning.

"I don't mean that," replied the nurse hesitantly, "as to whether or not this has anything to do with the devil, Elder Terrier, judge for yourselves, for this matter is not my business. There was only one thing I knew: I was afraid of the baby because he didn't smell like a child. ”

"Aha!" Tyrier said with satisfaction, letting his arm swing back into its original position like a pendulum, "Then let's not talk about the devil." Good. But tell me: According to your idea, if a baby had the smell he should have, what would it smell like? What do you say? ”

"It should smell good," said the nurse.

"What do you mean by 'smelling good'?" Tyrier yelled at her, "A lot of things smell good. A bouquet of lavender smells good. The meat farm smells good. The garden of the Arabs gives off a good smell. I wonder, what should a baby smell? ”

The nurse hesitated. Of course she knew what babies smelled like, she knew it perfectly. She has fed, raised, and kissed dozens of babies, rocking them to sleep...... She could find them at night with her nose, and even now she had the smell of babies clearly in her nose. But she never put it into words.

"Say it!" Tyrier roared, flicking his fingernails impatiently.

"Well," began the nurse, "it's not so easy to say, because ...... Because while their smell is good everywhere, they don't smell the same everywhere. Elders, you see, take their feet as an example, and they smell like a smooth, warm stone—no, rather, like cheese.... Or like butter, like fresh butter, yes, it's true, they smell like fresh butter. Their torsos smell like ...... like a lasalica in milk; And on the head, that is, on the top of the head and at the back of the head, the hairs were curled, and here you look, Elder, in this part where you no longer have long hair......" She patted Tyrier's bald head gently, and he was momentarily speechless at this rambling folly, and lowered his head obediently. “…… Here, indeed here, they smell the best. It smells of caramel, it smells so sweet, so wonderful, Elder. You can't imagine it! If people smell them, they will like them, whether they are their own or someone else's child. The baby's smell must be like this, not something else. If they don't have such a smell, they don't have a smell at all on the top of their heads, like this bastard, who smells worse than cold air, then ...... Explain it however you want, Elder, but I," she said, crossing her arms over her breast, and casting a disgusted look at the basket at her feet, as if it contained a toad, "I will let Na Bissière never bring this home again!" ”

Elder Terrier slowly lifted his bowed head, and held his bare head a few times with one finger, as if he were about to comb his hair, and put his finger under his nose as if by accident, sniffing it thoughtfully.

"Like caramel ......?" He asked, trying to regain his stern tone, "... Caramel! Do you know caramel? Have you already eaten it? ”

"I haven't tasted it directly," said the nurse, "but I once went to a great hotel on rue Saint-Honoré, and I saw how melted sugar and milk fat were made into caramel." It smells so good that I never forget it. ”

"Alright, that's enough," Tyrier said, taking his finger from under his nose, "don't talk about it! Continuing to talk to you at this level is especially difficult for me. I am now certain that, for whatever reason, you have refused to continue feeding the infant Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, who has entrusted it to you, and to return him to the abbey of Saint-Merry, his temporary guardian. I feel sad, but I probably can't change it. You're fired. ”

He picked up the basket and took another breath of the hot woolly milk that the wind was blowing.

Elder Terrier was a man of learning. He studied not only theology but also philosophy, as well as botany and chemistry. He was quite concerned about the power of his critical spirit.

(End of chapter)

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