莫泊桑短篇小說loisel

『壹』 《項鏈》的故事梗概

故事講述崇尚上流社會的女子瑪蒂爾德（Mathilde），年輕時總是夢想自己擁有珠光寶氣並受人欣羨，但成年後仍舊一無所有，並嫁給了一個只會一味討她歡喜，在教育部當低階文員的洛瓦塞爾（Loisel）。

一天丈夫爭取到了供職教育部舉辦晚會的一封請柬。在機會面前，瑪蒂爾德卻因沒有服飾十分懊惱。丈夫把原本要存下來買來福槍的錢給她買了華麗的晚裝，但她還是想要珠寶首飾。

因為沒有錢，丈夫讓她找她以前的同學珍娜（Jeanne）借點兒首飾。她有幸借到了最眩目的寶石項鏈，也的確令她占盡晚會的風頭，不料隨後項鏈就丟了。

瑪蒂爾德和丈夫傾家盪產的拿出積蓄並借債湊夠三萬六千法郎買來新項鏈還給珍娜。隨後數年裡，她和丈夫勤儉節約，辛苦勞作償清債務。瑪蒂爾德在極樂公園撞見了珍娜，並告訴了她項鏈丟失後買新項鏈奉還的事情。珍娜聽完非常驚異的說，那串項鏈其實只是價值五百法郎的贗品。

(1)莫泊桑短篇小說loisel擴展閱讀：

《項鏈》（法語：LaParure）是法國作家莫泊桑創作的短篇小說，也是他的代表作之一，最初刊載於1884年2月14日的《高盧報》（LesGaulois，後來被並入現在的費加洛報），以其極具莫泊桑風格的大逆轉結局而聞名。

句子解析

1、雪白雪白的浪花，嘩嘩地笑著，湧向沙灘，悄悄撒下小小的海螺和貝殼。

這是擬人句，寫出了浪花的調皮，飽含著作者對浪花的喜愛之情。

2、小娃娃嘻嘻地笑著，迎上去，撿起小小的海螺和貝殼，穿成彩色的項鏈，掛在胸前。

寫孩子們用海螺和貝殼穿成彩色的項鏈，表現了小娃娃的聰明可愛。

3、快活的腳印印在沙灘上，穿成金色的項鏈，掛在大海胸前。

指孩子在沙灘上行走時留下的一串串腳印，沙灘是黃色的，踩出的腳印也是黃色的，所以說是「金色的項鏈」。

『貳』 莫泊桑項鏈對白

The Necklace

She was one of those pretty and charming girls born, as though fate had blundered over her, into a family of artisans. She had no marriage portion, no expectations, no means of getting known, understood, loved, and wedded by a man of wealth and distinction; and she let herself be married off to a little clerk in the Ministry of Ecation. Her tastes were simple because she had never been able to afford any other, but she was as unhappy as though she had married beneath her; for women have no caste or class, their beauty, grace, and charm serving them for birth or family, their natural delicacy, their instinctive elegance, their nimbleness of wit, are their only mark of rank, and put the slum girl on a level with the highest lady in the land.
She suffered endlessly, feeling herself born for every delicacy and luxury. She suffered from the poorness of her house, from its mean walls, worn chairs, and ugly curtains. All these things, of which other women of her class would not even have been aware, tormented and insulted her. The sight of the little Breton girl who came to do the work in her little house aroused heart-broken regrets and hopeless dreams in her mind. She imagined silent antechambers, heavy with Oriental tapestries, lit by torches in lofty bronze sockets, with two tall footmen in knee-breeches sleeping in large arm-chairs, overcome by the heavy warmth of the stove. She imagined vast saloons hung with antique silks, exquisite pieces of furniture supporting priceless ornaments, and small, charming, perfumed rooms, created just for little parties of intimate friends, men who were famous and sought after, whose homage roused every other woman's envious longings.
When she sat down for dinner at the round table covered with a three-days-old cloth, opposite her husband, who took the cover off the soup-tureen, exclaiming delightedly: "Aha! Scotch broth! What could be better?" she imagined delicate meals, gleaming silver, tapestries peopling the walls with folk of a past age and strange birds in faery forests; she imagined delicate food served in marvellous dishes, murmured gallantries, listened to with an inscrutable smile as one trifled with the rosy flesh of trout or wings of asparagus chicken.
She had no clothes, no jewels, nothing. And these were the only things she loved; she felt that she was made for them. She had longed so eagerly to charm, to be desired, to be wildly attractive and sought after.

< 2 >

She had a rich friend, an old school friend whom she refused to visit, because she suffered so keenly when she returned home. She would weep whole days, with grief, regret, despair, and misery.

*

One evening her husband came home with an exultant air, holding a large envelope in his hand.
"Here's something for you," he said.
Swiftly she tore the paper and drew out a printed card on which were these words:
"The Minister of Ecation and Madame Ramponneau request the pleasure of the company of Monsieur and Madame Loisel at the Ministry on the evening of Monday, January the 18th."
Instead of being delighted, as her husband hoped, she flung the invitation petulantly across the table, murmuring:
"What do you want me to do with this?"
"Why, darling, I thought you'd be pleased. You never go out, and this is a great occasion. I had tremendous trouble to get it. Every one wants one; it's very select, and very few go to the clerks. You'll see all the really big people there."
She looked at him out of furious eyes, and said impatiently: "And what do you suppose I am to wear at such an affair?"
He had not thought about it; he stammered:
"Why, the dress you go to the theatre in. It looks very nice, to me . . ."
He stopped, stupefied and utterly at a loss when he saw that his wife was beginning to cry. Two large tears ran slowly down from the corners of her eyes towards the corners of her mouth.
"What's the matter with you? What's the matter with you?" he faltered.
But with a violent effort she overcame her grief and replied in a calm voice, wiping her wet cheeks:
"Nothing. Only I haven't a dress and so I can't go to this party. Give your invitation to some friend of yours whose wife will be turned out better than I shall."
He was heart-broken.
"Look here, Mathilde," he persisted. "What would be the cost of a suitable dress, which you could use on other occasions as well, something very simple?"
She thought for several seconds, reckoning up prices and also wondering for how large a sum she could ask without bringing upon herself an immediate refusal and an exclamation of horror from the careful-minded clerk.

< 3 >

At last she replied with some hesitation:
"I don't know exactly, but I think I could do it on four hundred francs."
He grew slightly pale, for this was exactly the amount he had been saving for a gun, intending to get a little shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre with some friends who went lark-shooting there on Sundays.
Nevertheless he said: "Very well. I'll give you four hundred francs. But try and get a really nice dress with the money."
The day of the party drew near, and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy and anxious. Her dress was ready, however. One evening her husband said to her:
"What's the matter with you? You've been very odd for the last three days."
"I'm utterly miserable at not having any jewels, not a single stone, to wear," she replied. "I shall look absolutely no one. I would almost rather not go to the party."
"Wear flowers," he said. "They're very smart at this time of the year. For ten francs you could get two or three gorgeous roses."
She was not convinced.
"No . . . there's nothing so humiliating as looking poor in the middle of a lot of rich women."
"How stupid you are!" exclaimed her husband. "Go and see Madame Forestier and ask her to lend you some jewels. You know her quite well enough for that."
She uttered a cry of delight.
"That's true. I never thought of it."
Next day she went to see her friend and told her her trouble.
Madame Forestier went to her dressing-table, took up a large box, brought it to Madame Loisel, opened it, and said:
"Choose, my dear."
First she saw some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian cross in gold and gems, of exquisite workmanship. She tried the effect of the jewels before the mirror, hesitating, unable to make up her mind to leave them, to give them up. She kept on asking:
"Haven't you anything else?"
"Yes. Look for yourself. I don't know what you would like best."
Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin case, a superb diamond necklace; her heart began to beat covetously. Her hands trembled as she lifted it. She fastened it round her neck, upon her high dress, and remained in ecstasy at sight of herself.

< 4 >

Then, with hesitation, she asked in anguish:
"Could you lend me this, just this alone?"
"Yes, of course."
She flung herself on her friend's breast, embraced her frenziedly, and went away with her treasure. The day of the party arrived. Madame Loisel was a success. She was the prettiest woman present, elegant, graceful, smiling, and quite above herself with happiness. All the men stared at her, inquired her name, and asked to be introced to her. All the Under-Secretaries of State were eager to waltz with her. The Minister noticed her.
She danced madly, ecstatically, drunk with pleasure, with no thought for anything, in the triumph of her beauty, in the pride of her success, in a cloud of happiness made up of this universal homage and admiration, of the desires she had aroused, of the completeness of a victory so dear to her feminine heart.
She left about four o'clock in the morning. Since midnight her husband had been dozing in a deserted little room, in company with three other men whose wives were having a good time. He threw over her shoulders the garments he had brought for them to go home in, modest everyday clothes, whose poverty clashed with the beauty of the ball-dress. She was conscious of this and was anxious to hurry away, so that she should not be noticed by the other women putting on their costly furs.
Loisel restrained her.
"Wait a little. You'll catch cold in the open. I'm going to fetch a cab."
But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the staircase. When they were out in the street they could not find a cab; they began to look for one, shouting at the drivers whom they saw passing in the distance.
They walked down towards the Seine, desperate and shivering. At last they found on the quay one of those old nightprowling carriages which are only to be seen in Paris after dark, as though they were ashamed of their shabbiness in the daylight.
It brought them to their door in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they walked up to their own apartment. It was the end, for her. As for him, he was thinking that he must be at the office at ten.
She took off the garments in which she had wrapped her shoulders, so as to see herself in all her glory before the mirror. But suddenly she uttered a cry. The necklace was no longer round her neck!

< 5 >

"What's the matter with you?" asked her husband, already half undressed.
She turned towards him in the utmost distress.
"I . . . I . . . I've no longer got Madame Forestier's necklace. . . ."
He started with astonishment.
"What! . . . Impossible!"
They searched in the folds of her dress, in the folds of the coat, in the pockets, everywhere. They could not find it.
"Are you sure that you still had it on when you came away from the ball?" he asked.
"Yes, I touched it in the hall at the Ministry."
"But if you had lost it in the street, we should have heard it fall."
"Yes. Probably we should. Did you take the number of the cab?"
"No. You didn't notice it, did you?"
"No."
They stared at one another, mbfounded. At last Loisel put on his clothes again.
"I'll go over all the ground we walked," he said, "and see if I can't find it."
And he went out. She remained in her evening clothes, lacking strength to get into bed, huddled on a chair, without volition or power of thought.
Her husband returned about seven. He had found nothing.
He went to the police station, to the newspapers, to offer a reward, to the cab companies, everywhere that a ray of hope impelled him.
She waited all day long, in the same state of bewilderment at this fearful catastrophe.
Loisel came home at night, his face lined and pale; he had discovered nothing.
"You must write to your friend," he said, "and tell her that you've broken the clasp of her necklace and are getting it mended. That will give us time to look about us."
She wrote at his dictation.

*

By the end of a week they had lost all hope.
Loisel, who had aged five years, declared:
"We must see about replacing the diamonds."
Next day they took the box which had held the necklace and went to the jewellers whose name was inside. He consulted his books.
"It was not I who sold this necklace, Madame; I must have merely supplied the clasp."
Then they went from jeweller to jeweller, searching for another necklace like the first, consulting their memories, both ill with remorse and anguish of mind.
In a shop at the Palais-Royal they found a string of diamonds which seemed to them exactly like the one they were looking for. It was worth forty thousand francs. They were allowed to have it for thirty-six thousand.

< 6 >

They begged the jeweller not to sell it for three days. And they arranged matters on the understanding that it would be taken back for thirty-four thousand francs, if the first one were found before the end of February.
Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs left to him by his father. He intended to borrow the rest.
He did borrow it, getting a thousand from one man, five hundred from another, five louis here, three louis there. He gave notes of hand, entered into ruinous agreements, did business with usurers and the whole tribe of money-lenders. He mortgaged the whole remaining years of his existence, risked his signature without even knowing if he could honour it, and, appalled at the agonising face of the future, at the black misery about to fall upon him, at the prospect of every possible physical privation and moral torture, he went to get the new necklace and put down upon the jeweller's counter thirty-six thousand francs.
When Madame Loisel took back the necklace to Madame Forestier, the latter said to her in a chilly voice:
"You ought to have brought it back sooner; I might have needed it."
She did not, as her friend had feared, open the case. If she had noticed the substitution, what would she have thought? What would she have said? Would she not have taken her for a thief?

*

Madame Loisel came to know the ghastly life of abject poverty. From the very first she played her part heroically. This fearful debt must be paid off. She would pay it. The servant was dismissed. They changed their flat; they took a garret under the roof.
She came to know the heavy work of the house, the hateful ties of the kitchen. She washed the plates, wearing out her pink nails on the coarse pottery and the bottoms of pans. She washed the dirty linen, the shirts and dish-cloths, and hung them out to dry on a string; every morning she took the stbin down into the street and carried up the water, stopping on each landing to get her breath. And, clad like a poor woman, she went to the fruiterer, to the grocer, to the butcher, a basket on her arm, haggling, insulted, fighting for every wretched halfpenny of her money.
Every month notes had to be paid off, others renewed, time gained.

< 7 >

Her husband worked in the evenings at putting straight a merchant's accounts, and often at night he did ing at twopence-halfpenny a page.
And this life lasted ten years.
At the end of ten years everything was paid off, everything, the usurer's charges and the accumulation of superimposed interest.
Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become like all the other strong, hard, coarse women of poor households. Her hair was badly done, her skirts were awry, her hands were red. She spoke in a shrill voice, and the water slopped all over the floor when she scrubbed it. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down by the window and thought of that evening long ago, of the ball at which she had been so beautiful and so much admired.
What would have happened if she had never lost those jewels. Who knows? Who knows? How strange life is, how fickle! How little is needed to ruin or to save!
One Sunday, as she had gone for a walk along the Champs-Elysees to freshen herself after the labours of the week, she caught sight suddenly of a woman who was taking a child out for a walk. It was Madame Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still attractive.
Madame Loisel was conscious of some emotion. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid, she would tell her all. Why not?
She went up to her.
"Good morning, Jeanne."
The other did not recognise her, and was surprised at being thus familiarly addressed by a poor woman.
"But . . . Madame . . ." she stammered. "I don't know . . . you must be making a mistake."
"No . . . I am Mathilde Loisel."
Her friend uttered a cry.
"Oh! . . . my poor Mathilde, how you have changed! . . ."
"Yes, I've had some hard times since I saw you last; and many sorrows . . . and all on your account."
"On my account! . . . How was that?"
"You remember the diamond necklace you lent me for the ball at the Ministry?"
"Yes. Well?"
"Well, I lost it."
"How could you? Why, you brought it back."
"I brought you another one just like it. And for the last ten years we have been paying for it. You realise it wasn't easy for us; we had no money. . . . Well, it's paid for at last, and I'm glad indeed."

< 8 >

Madame Forestier had halted.
"You say you bought a diamond necklace to replace mine?"
"Yes. You hadn't noticed it? They were very much alike."
And she smiled in proud and innocent happiness.
Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took her two hands.
"Oh, my poor Mathilde! But mine was imitation. It was worth at the very most five hundred francs! . . . "

『叄』 莫泊桑寫的短篇小說有哪些

莫泊桑的短篇小說代表作： 《漂亮朋友》、《羊脂球》、《項鏈》、《我的叔叔於勒》 莫泊桑，一生創作了6部長篇小說和359篇中短篇小說，及三部游記。與契訶夫和歐·亨利合稱「世界三大短篇小說之王」。

『肆』 《莫泊桑中短篇小說選》都有哪些小說內容（二）

莫泊桑，世界著名的短篇小說作家。他繼承了福樓拜、巴爾扎克、司湯達等現實主義大師的寫實傳統，同時又追隨左拉等自然主義先驅人物，在不到10年的時間里，創作了300多篇膾炙人口的短篇小說，其中數十篇成為流芳百世的傳世之作，是世界文學史上最著名的短篇小說大師之一。莫泊桑用傳神之筆刻畫了法國上下各階層的人物，每一個人物都凝結著作者的心血，寄託著作者的渴望。法國文學家左拉在談到莫泊桑的短篇小說時說：「誰敢說獲得不朽的不可能是一篇300行的小說，是未來世紀的小學生們當做無懈可擊的完美的典範、口口相傳的寓言或者故事呢？」他的預言今天已得到了驗證。

莫泊桑短篇小說的主題大致可歸納為三個方面：第一是諷刺小資產階級、小市民的虛榮心和拜金主義，如《項鏈》、《我的叔叔於勒》；《項鏈》是莫泊桑舉世聞名的短篇小說。故事講述了巴黎一個小公務員的妻子，因為愛慕虛榮，為了參加一次舞會，向朋友借來一串鑽石項鏈。結果項鏈不幸被弄丟了。為了賠償這串項鏈，夫妻兩人開始了10年艱辛的生活。當10年後，他們終於還清了所有借債時，才得知當初借來的那串項鏈是假的。小說在嘲諷中深含著作者對小人物的同情之心。《我的叔叔於勒》通過一對小資產階級夫婦對親兄弟的勢利態度，表現了資產階級人與人之間赤裸裸的金錢關系。

第二是對資產階級上流社會的批判和諷刺。在很多篇章里，莫泊桑都揭露了所謂體面人物的丑態。如他的成名作《羊脂球》。這篇小說以普法戰爭為背景，講述一個地位卑微卻富有愛國主義精神的妓女為了解救同行的旅客，不得不忍受屈辱，但卻遭到那些旅客的蔑視。小說生動地再現了資產者和上流女人虛偽自私的面目，表現出那些道貌岸然的資產者骯臟的內心世界。在《一個兒子》中，地位尊貴的上議員與法蘭西學院院士竟厚顏無恥地說，「在18歲到40歲這段時期，如把那些短暫的遇合、一小時的接觸計算在內，我們完全可以說，我們和兩三百個女人有過親密關系」。

第三是描寫普法戰爭，反映法國人民的愛國情緒，這類作品在莫泊桑的短篇小說創作中佔有重要地位。如《兩個朋友》寫了兩個熱衷垂釣的平民橫遭普魯士侵略軍屠殺，而普魯士軍官卻表現得「安詳」、「平靜」，以此抨擊侵略戰爭。還有謳歌抗擊侵略者的愛國主義精神的《米隆老爹》、《決斗》、《蠻大媽》等。

莫泊桑短篇小說布局結構的精巧。典型細節的選用、敘事抒情的手法以及行雲流水般的自然文筆，都給後世作家提供了楷模。

『伍』 莫泊桑的短篇小說有哪些

莫泊桑(1850～1893)是19世紀後半葉法國優秀的批判現實主義作家，是世界著名的短篇小說巨匠。1879年的《羊脂球》震驚文壇，使莫泊桑成為法國文學界的一顆耀目的新星。

莫泊桑

《羊脂球》是世界文學寶庫中的珍品之一，它以普法戰爭為背景，把各階層的典型人物「濃縮」到一輛馬車上。馬車從敵軍佔領的盧昂出發，匆匆向法軍據守的地方撤退。中途經過普軍佔領的小鎮，敵軍官蠻橫無恥地要求綽號叫「羊脂球」的妓女陪他過夜，否則全車人都要扣留。於是，戲劇場面展開了：一夥道貌岸然、自命高貴的貴族老爺、工業家、商人、政客和修女為了保全自己，用盡威逼、懇求、哄騙等手段，請「羊脂球」順從普軍官的無恥要求。「羊脂球」為了保全這些「同胞」，只好蒙受奇恥大辱。事過之後，車子又前進了。不料，這些「高貴」的旅伴突然面孔大變，對「羊脂球」倍加輕蔑和唾棄，以示自身的「高潔」。該小說通過形象對照，無情揭露了偽君子的丑惡面目，其批判力量甚至使一些長篇巨著也難以相提並論。

莫泊桑在短短10年左右的時間里，寫出350多篇中短篇小說，其中很多都成為膾炙人口的佳作。此外，他還寫了6部長篇小說，其中最著名的是《漂亮的朋友》(即《俊友》)和《一生》。莫泊桑對後世的影響是深遠的，他的優秀短篇被世界各國文學工作者奉為楷模。

『陸』 莫泊桑的短篇小說是如何分類的各類有哪些主要作品

1、反映普法戰爭的：在這類題材的作品裡，莫泊桑揭露了普魯士侵略者的殘暴與野蠻；法國軍隊的無能，歌頌了法國人民不畏強暴反抗侵略者的愛國精神如《羊脂球》、《米隆老爹》、《兩個朋友》等。

2、描寫資產階級世俗生活，揭露資產階級道德墮落的，如《項鏈》、《戴家樓》，表現世人貪圖錢財而不注重親情的《我的叔叔於勒》，描寫小市民吝嗇的《雨傘》等。

3、反映勞動人民生活的貧困痛苦以及優秀品質的，如《西蒙的爸爸》、《一個女長工的故事》等。

表現形式：

莫泊桑是爐火純青的技藝的掌握者。他不拘成法，不恪守某種既定的規則，而是自由自在地運用各種方式與手法。在描述對象上，有時是一個完整的故事，有時是事件的某個片段，有時是某個圖景，有時是一段心理活動與精神狀態。

既有故事性強的，也有情節淡化的甚至根本沒有情節的，既有人物眾多的，也有人物單一的，甚至還有根本沒有人物的。在描述的時序上，有順敘，有倒敘，有插敘。

在描述的角度上，有客觀描述的，也有主觀描述的，有時描述者與事件保持了時空的距離，有時描述者則又是事件的參與者，有時描述者有明確的身份，有時則又身份不明。

在莫泊桑的短篇里，描述方法的多樣化與富於變化，無疑是他以前的短篇小說作家所未具備的。他大大豐富了短篇小說的描述方式，提高了敘述藝術的水平，為後來的短篇小說創作開辟了更為廣闊的道路。

『柒』 莫泊桑簡介及代表作品 莫泊桑的作品有哪些

1、居伊·德·莫泊桑（Henri René Albert Guy de Maupassant，1850年8月5日—1893年7月6日），19世紀後半葉法國優秀的批判現實主義作家，與俄國契訶夫和美國歐·亨利並稱為「世界三大短篇小說巨匠」，其中莫泊桑被譽為「世界短篇小說之王」。他一生創作了六部長篇小說、三百五十九篇中短篇小說及三部游記，是法國文學史上短篇小說創作數量最大、成就最高的作家。

2、莫泊桑1850年出生於法國上諾曼府濱海塞納省的一個沒落貴族家庭。曾參加普法戰爭，此經歷成為他日後創作小說的一個重要主題。莫泊桑患有神經痛和強烈的偏頭痛，巨大的勞動強度，使他逐漸病入膏肓。直到1891年，他已不能再進行寫作。在遭受疾病殘酷的折磨之後，莫泊桑於1893年7月6日逝世，年僅43歲。

3、代表作品：《羊脂球》、《俊友》《項鏈》《一生》《溫泉》。

『捌』 急需莫泊桑《項鏈》英語全文

SHE was one of those pretty and charming girls, born by a blunder of destiny in a family of employees. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of being known, understood, loved, married by a man rich and distinguished; and she let them make a match for her with a little clerk in the Department of Ecation.
She was simple since she could not be adorned; but she was unhappy as though kept out of her own class; for women have no caste and no descent, their beauty, their grace, and their charm serving them instead of birth and fortune. Their native keenness, their instinctive elegance, their flexibility of mind, are their only hierarchy; and these make the daughters of the people the equals of the most lofty dames. 2
She suffered intensely, feeling herself born for every delicacy and every luxury. She suffered from the poverty of her dwelling, from the worn walls, the abraded chairs, the ugliness of the stuffs. All these things, which another woman of her caste would not even have noticed, tortured her and made her indignant. The sight of the little girl from Brittany who did her humble housework awoke in her desolated regrets and distracted dreams. She let her mind dwell on the quiet vestibules, hung with Oriental tapestries, lighted by tall lamps of bronze, and on the two tall footmen in knee breeches who dozed in the large armchairs, made drowsy by the heat of the furnace. She let her mind dwell on the large parlors, decked with old silk, with their delicate furniture, supporting precious bric-a-brac, and on the coquettish little rooms, perfumed, prepared for the five o』clock chat with the most intimate friends, men well known and sought after, whose attentions all women envied and desired.
When she sat down to dine, before a tablecloth three days old, in front of her husband, who lifted the cover of the tureen, declaring with an air of satisfaction, 「Ah, the good pot-au-feu. I don』t know anything better than that,」 she was thinking of delicate repasts, with glittering silver, with tapestries peopling the walls with ancient figures and with strange birds in a fairy-like forest; she was thinking of exquisite dishes, served in marvelous platters, of compliment whispered and heard with a sphinx-like smile, while she was eating the rosy flesh of a trout or the wings of a quail.
She had no dresses, no jewelry, nothing. And she loved nothing else; she felt herself made for that only. She would so much have liked to please, to be envied, to be sective and sought after.
She had a rich friend, a comrade of her convent days, whom she did not want to go and see any more, so much did she suffer as she came away. And she wept all day long, from chagrin, from regret, from despair, and from distress.
But one evening her husband came in with a proud air, holding in his hand a large envelope.
「There,」 said he, 「there』s something for you.」
She quickly tore the paper and took out of it a printed card which bore these words:
「The Minister of Ecation and Mme. Georges Rampouneau beg M. and Mme. Loisel to do them the honor to pass the evening with them at the palace of the Ministry, on Monday, January .」
Instead of being delighted, as her husband hoped, she threw the invitation on the table with annoyance, murmuring
「What do you want me to do with that?」
「But, my dear, I thought you would be pleased. You never go out, and here』s a chance, a fine one. I had the hardest work to get it. Everybody is after them; they are greatly sought for and not many are given to the clerks. You will see there all the official world.」
She looked at him with an irritated eye and she declared with impatience:
「What do you want me to put on my back to go there?」
He had not thought of that; he hesitated:
「But the dress in which you go to the theater. That looks very well to me」
He shut up, astonished and distracted at seeing that his wife was weeping. Two big tears were descending slowly from the corners of the eyes to the corners of the mouth. He stuttered:
What』s the matter? What』s the matter?」
But by a violent effort she had conquered her trouble, and she replied in a calm voice as she wiped her damp cheeks:
「Nothing. Only I have no clothes, and in consequence I cannot go to this party. Give your card to some colleague whose wife has a better outfit than I.」
He was disconsolate. He began again:
「See here, Mathilde, how much would this cost, a proper dress, which would do on other occasions; something very simple?」
She reflected a few seconds, going over her calculations, and thinking also of the sum which she might ask without meeting an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the frugal clerk.
「At last, she answered hesitatingly:
「I don』t know exactly, but it seems to me that with four hundred francs I might do it.」
He grew a little pale, for he was reserving just that sum to buy a gun and treat himself to a little shooting, the next summer, on the plain of Nanterre, with some friends who used to shoot larks there on Sundays.
But he said:
「All right. I will give you four hundred francs. But take care to have a pretty dress.」
The day of the party drew near, and Mme. Loisel seemed sad, restless, anxious. Yet her dress was ready. One evening her husband said to her:
「What』s the matter? Come, now, you have been quite queer these last three days.」
And she answered:
「It annoys me not to have a jewel, not a single stone, to put on. I shall look like distress. I would almost rather not go to this party.」
He answered:
「You will wear some natural flowers. They are very stylish this time of the year. For ten francs you will have two or three magnificent roses.」
But she was not convinced.
「No; there』s nothing more humiliating than to look poor among a lot of rich women.」
But her husband cried:
「What a goose you are! Go find your friend, Mme. Forester, and ask her to lend you some jewelry. You know her well enough to do that.」
She gave a cry of joy
「That』s true. I had not thought of it.」
The next day she went to her friend』s and told her about her distress.
Me. Forester went to her mirrored wardrobe, took out a large casket, brought it, opened it, and said to Mme. Loisel:

『玖』 求莫泊桑《項鏈》 英文原版（急用）！！！

Necklace

The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction.

She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy as if she had really fallen from a higher station; since with women there is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace and charm take the place of family and birth. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and often make of women of the people the equals of the very greatest ladies.

Mathilde suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries. She was distressed at the poverty of her dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs, the ugliness of the curtains. All those things, of which another woman of her rank would never even have been conscious, tortured her and made her angry. The sight of the little Breton peasant who did her humble housework aroused in her despairing regrets and bewildering dreams. She thought of silent antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry, illumined by tall bronze candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big armchairs, made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. She thought of long reception halls hung with ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish perfumed reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men famous and sought after, whom all women envy and whose attention they all desire.

When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days, opposite her husband, who uncovered the soup tureen and declared with a delighted air, "Ah, the good soup! I don't know anything better than that," she thought of dainty dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds flying in the midst of a fairy forest; and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinxlike smile while you are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail.

She had no gowns, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that. She felt made for that. She would have liked so much to please, to be envied, to be charming, to be sought after.

She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and whom she did not like to go to see any more because she felt so sad when she came home.

But one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope in his hand.

"There," said he, "there is something for you."

She tore the paper quickly and drew out a printed card which bore these words:

The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau
request the honor of M. and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of
the Ministry on Monday evening, January 18th.

Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the invitation on the table crossly, muttering:

"What do you wish me to do with that?"

"Why, my dear, I thought you would be glad. You never go out, and this is such a fine opportunity. I had great trouble to get it. Every one wants to go; it is very select, and they are not giving many invitations to clerks. The whole official world will be there."

She looked at him with an irritated glance and said impatiently:

"And what do you wish me to put on my back?"

He had not thought of that. He stammered:

"Why, the gown you go to the theatre in. It looks very well to me."

He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was weeping. Two great tears ran slowly from the corners of her eyes toward the corners of her mouth.

"What's the matter? What's the matter?" he answered.

By a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice, while she wiped her wet cheeks:

"Nothing. Only I have no gown, and, therefore, I can't go to this ball. Give your card to some colleague whose wife is better equipped than I am."

He was in despair. He resumed:

"Come, let us see, Mathilde. How much would it cost, a suitable gown, which you could use on other occasions--something very simple?"

She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wondering also what sum she could ask without drawing on herself an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk.

Finally she replied hesitating:

"I don't know exactly, but I think I could manage it with four hundred francs."

He grew a little pale, because he was laying aside just that amount to buy a gun and treat himself to a little shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre, with several friends who went to shoot larks there of a Sunday.

But he said:

"Very well. I will give you four hundred francs. And try to have a pretty gown."

The day of the ball drew near and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy, anxious. Her frock was ready, however. Her husband said to her one evening:

"What is the matter? Come, you have seemed very queer these last three days."

And she answered:

"It annoys me not to have a single piece of jewelry, not a single ornament, nothing to put on. I shall look poverty-stricken. I would almost rather not go at all."

"You might wear natural flowers," said her husband. "They're very stylish at this time of year. For ten francs you can get two or three magnificent roses."

She was not convinced.

"No; there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other women who are rich."

"How stupid you are!" her husband cried. "Go look up your friend, Madame Forestier, and ask her to lend you some jewels. You're intimate enough with her to do that."

She uttered a cry of joy:

"True! I never thought of it."

The next day she went to her friend and told her of her distress.

Madame Forestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror, took out a large jewel box, brought it back, opened it and said to Madame Loisel:

"Choose, my dear."

She saw first some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian gold cross set with precious stones, of admirable workmanship. She tried on the ornaments before the mirror, hesitated and could not make up her mind to part with them, to give them back. She kept asking:

"Haven't you any more?"

"Why, yes. Look further; I don't know what you like."

Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin box, a superb diamond necklace, and her heart throbbed with an immoderate desire. Her hands trembled as she took it. She fastened it round her throat, outside her high-necked waist, and was lost in ecstasy at her reflection in the mirror.

Then she asked, hesitating, filled with anxious doubt:

"Will you lend me this, only this?"

"Why, yes, certainly."

She threw her arms round her friend's neck, kissed her passionately, then fled with her treasure.

The night of the ball arrived. Madame Loisel was a great success. She was prettier than any other woman present, elegant, graceful, smiling and wild with joy. All the men looked at her, asked her name, sought to be introced. All the attaches of the Cabinet wished to waltz with her. She was remarked by the minister himself.

She danced with rapture, with passion, intoxicated by pleasure, forgetting all in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory of her success, in a sort of cloud of happiness comprised of all this homage, admiration, these awakened desires and of that sense of triumph which is so sweet to woman's heart.

She left the ball about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had been sleeping since midnight in a little deserted anteroom with three other gentlemen whose wives were enjoying the ball.

He threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought, the modest wraps of common life, the poverty of which contrasted with the elegance of the ball dress. She felt this and wished to escape so as not to be remarked by the other women, who were enveloping themselves in costly furs.

Loisel held her back, saying: "Wait a bit. You will catch cold outside. I will call a cab."

But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the stairs. When they reached the street they could not find a carriage and began to look for one, shouting after the cabmen passing at a distance.

They went toward the Seine in despair, shivering with cold. At last they found on the quay one of those ancient night cabs which, as though they were ashamed to show their shabbiness ring the day, are never seen round Paris until after dark.

It took them to their dwelling in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they mounted the stairs to their flat. All was ended for her. As to him, he reflected that he must be at the ministry at ten o'clock that morning.

She removed her wraps before the glass so as to see herself once more in all her glory. But suddenly she uttered a cry. She no longer had the necklace around her neck!

"What is the matter with you?" demanded her husband, already half undressed.

She turned distractedly toward him.

"I have--I have--I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace," she cried.

He stood up, bewildered.

"What!--how? Impossible!"

They looked among the folds of her skirt, of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere, but did not find it.

"You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?" he asked.

"Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the minister's house."

"But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab."

"Yes, probably. Did you take his number?"

"No. And you--didn't you notice it?"

"No."

They looked, thunderstruck, at each other. At last Loisel put on his clothes.

"I shall go back on foot," said he, "over the whole route, to see whether I can find it."

He went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, without any fire, without a thought.

Her husband returned about seven o'clock. He had found nothing.

He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he went to the cab companies--everywhere, in fact, whither he was urged by the least spark of hope.

She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity.

Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face. He had discovered nothing.

"You must write to your friend," said he, "that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it mended. That will give us time to turn round."

She wrote at his dictation.

At the end of a week they had lost all hope. Loisel, who had aged five years, declared:

"We must consider how to replace that ornament."

The next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler whose name was found within. He consulted his books.

"It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply have furnished the case."

Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace like the other, trying to recall it, both sick with chagrin and grief.

They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds that seemed to them exactly like the one they had lost. It was worth forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six.

So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And they made a bargain that he should buy it back for thirty-four thousand francs, in case they should find the lost necklace before the end of February.

Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He would borrow the rest.

He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, five louis here, three louis there. He gave notes, took up ruinous obligations, dealt with usurers and all the race of lenders. He compromised all the rest of his life, risked signing a note without even knowing whether he could meet it; and, frightened by the trouble yet to come, by the black misery that was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that he was to suffer, he went to get the new necklace, laying upon the jeweler's counter thirty-six thousand francs.

When Madame Loisel took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her with a chilly manner:

"You should have returned it sooner; I might have needed it."

She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she had detected the substitution, what would she have thought, what would she have said? Would she not have taken Madame Loisel for a thief?

Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She bore her part, however, with sudden heroism. That dreadful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed their servant; they changed their lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof.

She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen. She washed the dishes, using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on greasy pots and pans. She washed the soiled linen, the shirts and the dishcloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops down to the street every morning and carried up the water, stopping for breath at every landing. And dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, meeting with impertinence, defending her miserable money, sou by sou.

Every month they had to meet some notes, renew others, obtain more time.

Her husband worked evenings, making up a tradesman's accounts, and late at night he often copied manuscript for five sous a page.

This life lasted ten years.

At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with the rates of usury and the accumulations of the compound interest.

Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverished households--strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands, she talked loud while washing the floor with great swishes of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down near the window and she thought of that gay evening of long ago, of that ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired.

What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? who knows? How strange and changeful is life! How small a thing is needed to make or ruin us!

But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the labors of the week, she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child. It was Madame Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming.

Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid, she would tell her all about it. Why not?

She went up.

"Good-day, Jeanne."

The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good-wife, did not recognize her at all and stammered:

"But--madame!--I do not know--You must have mistaken."

"No. I am Mathilde Loisel."

Her friend uttered a cry.

"Oh, my poor Mathilde! How you are changed!"

"Yes, I have had a pretty hard life, since I last saw you, and great poverty--and that because of you!"

"Of me! How so?"

"Do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the ministerial ball?"

"Yes. Well?"

"Well, I lost it."

"What do you mean? You brought it back."

"I brought you back another exactly like it. And it has taken us ten years to pay for it. You can understand that it was not easy for us, for us who had nothing. At last it is ended, and I am very glad."

Madame Forestier had stopped.

"You say that you bought a necklace of diamonds to replace mine?"

"Yes. You never noticed it, then! They were very similar."

And she smiled with a joy that was at once proud and ingenuous.

Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took her hands.

"Oh, my poor Mathilde! Why, my necklace was paste! It was worth at most only five hundred francs!"

『拾』 莫泊桑的短篇小說代表作有哪些

泊桑的三百五十多中短篇小說從題材內容大致可分為以下幾個方面：

1.反映普法戰爭的：在這類題材的作品裡，莫泊桑揭露了普魯士侵略者的殘暴與野蠻；法國軍隊的無能，歌頌了法國人民不畏強暴反抗侵略者的愛國精神如《羊脂球》(1880)、《米隆老爹》(1883)（必讀）、《兩個朋友》(1883)等。《羊脂球》是寫被敵軍佔領的里昂城裡十幾位居民同乘一輛馬車出逃的故事。一輛馬車就是一個社會的縮影。作者通過乘客們出逃的不同原因，一路上的表現，特別是對羊脂球前後不同態度的變化，表現了他們不同的社會身份和性格特徵。

2.描寫資產階級世俗生活，揭露資產階級道德墮落的，如《項鏈》(1884)、《戴家樓》(1881)，表現世人貪圖錢財而不注重親情的《我的叔叔於勒》(1883)，描寫小市民吝嗇的《雨傘》(1884)等。

3.反映勞動人民生活的貧困痛苦以及優秀品質的，如《西蒙的爸爸》(1881)、《一個女長工的故事》(1881)等。