2010年河北大学车祸和1780年巴黎车祸
河北大学校园的车祸，似乎沉默了，却越发让我想到英国作家狄更斯写过的1780年的车祸。在小说《双城记》里，狄更斯写了一个法国爵爷，从更大的爵爷府邸出来后，任由车夫在巴黎街道上狂奔。马车把一个孩子压死了，爵爷说“我看这事真怪，你们这些人连自己和自己的孩子都照顾不了。老是有一两个人挡在路上。我还不知道你们把我的马伤成什么样子了呢！看着！把这个给他。”他扔出了一个金币，命令他的侍从拾起来。所有的脑袋都像白鹤似地往前伸，所有的眼睛都想看见那金币落下。高个子男人（被压死的孩子的父亲）又以一种绝对不是人间的声音大叫道，“死了！”
以下是这一章的摘抄，近日重读，二百三十年前的车祸，历历在目。伟大的现实主义作家真是了不起，能刻画出如此超越时代的典型场面：
查尔斯·狄更斯小说《双城记A Tale Of Two Cities》第二章“金钱The golden thread”第七节“爵爷在城里Monsigneur in Town”。
侯爵大人的手下人赶起车来仿佛是在对敌人冲锋陷阵，而这种鲁莽的做法并没有从主人的眉梢，嘴角引来丝毫制止的意思。即使在那个耳聋的城市和暗哑的时代，人们的抱怨有时其实是能听得见的，说是那种古罗马贵族式的凶狠的赶马习惯在没有人行道的大街上野蛮地威胁着平民百姓的生命或把他们变成残废。可是注意到这类事件并加以考虑的人却很少。因而在这件事上也跟在别的事上一样，普通的穷苦百姓便只有自行努力去克服困难了。
车声叮当，蹄声得得，马车发疯一样奔驰，那放纵骄横、不顾别人死活的样子在今天是很难理解的。它疾驰在大街上，横扫过街角处，妇女在它面前尖叫，男人你拽我扯，把孩子拉到路旁。最后，当它在一道泉水边的街角急转弯时，一个轮子令人恶心地抖了一下，几条喉咙同时发出了一声大叫，几匹马前腿凌空一腾落下，随即后臀一翘停下了。
若不是刚才那点障碍，马车大概是不会停下的；那时的马车常常是把受伤的人扔在后面，自已扬长而去。为什么不可以？可是大吃一惊的侍从已经匆匆下了车--几匹马的辔头已叫二十只胳膊抓住了。
“出了什么事？”大人平静地往外看了看，说。
一个戴睡帽的高个子男人已从马匹脚下抓起了一个包裹样的东西，放在泉水边的石基上，自己匍匐在泥水里对着它野兽一样嗥叫。
“对不起，大人！”一个衣衫褴的恭顺的男人说，“是个孩子。”
“他干吗嚎得那么讨厌？是他的孩于么？”
“请原谅，侯爵大人，很可惜，是的。”
泉水距此略有些距离，因为街道在泉水处展开成了一块 十码或十二码见方的广场。高个子男人突然从地上跳起身子，向马车奔来。侯爵大人一时里用手抓着剑柄。
“碾死了！”那男人拼命地狂叫，两条胳膊高高地伸在头上，眼睛瞪着他。“死了！”
人群围了过来，望着侯爵大人。那些盯着他看的眼睛除了警惕和急迫之外并无别的表情，并无可以后到的威胁或愤怒。人们也没说什么。自从第一声惊呼之后他们便没再出声，以后也一直这样。那说话的人低声下气的嗓门是平淡的、驯善的，表现了极端的服从。侯爵先生的目光从每一个人身上掠过，仿佛他们是一群刚从洞里窜出来的耗子。
他掏出了钱包。
“我看这事真怪，”他说，“你们这些人连自己和自己的孩子都照顾不了。老是有一两
个人挡在路上。我还不知道你们把我的马伤成什么样子了呢！看着！把这个给他。”
他扔出了一个金币，命令他的侍从拾起来。所有的脑袋都像白鹤似地往前伸，所有的眼
睛都想看见那金币落下。高个子男人又以一种绝对不是人间的声音大叫道，“死了！”
另一个男人匆匆赶来拉住了他，别的人纷纷让开。那可怜的人一见来人便扑到他的肩上
抽泣着、号啕着，指着泉水。那儿有几个妇女躬身站在一动不动的包裹前，缓缓地做着什
么，却也跟男人们一样，无声无息。
“我全知道，我全知道，”刚来的人说。“要勇敢，加斯帕德。可怜的小把戏像这样死
了倒还好些。转眼工夫就过去了，没受什么痛苦。他活着能像这样快活一个小时么？”
“你倒是个哲学家，你，”侯爵微笑说。“人家怎么叫你？”
“叫我德伐日。”
“你是干什么的？”
“卖酒的，侯爵大人。”
“这钱你拾起来，卖酒的哲学家，”侯爵扔给他另外一个金币。“随便去花。马怎么
样，没问题吧？”
侯爵大人对人群不屑多看一眼。他把身子往后一靠，正要以偶然打碎了一个平常的东西，已经赔了钱，而且赔得起钱的大老爷的神态离开时，一个金币却飞进车里，当啷一声落在了车板上，他的轻松感突然敲打破了。
“停车！”侯爵大人说，“带住马！是谁扔的？”
他望了望卖酒的德伐日刚才站着的地方。可是那凄惨的父亲正匍匐在那儿的路面上，他身边的身影已变成个黝黑健壮的女人在织毛线。
“你们这些狗东西，”侯爵说，可是口气平静，除了鼻翼上的两点之外，面不改色，“我非常乐意从你们任何一个人身上碾过去，从人世上把你们消灭掉。我若是知道是哪一个混蛋对马车扔东西，若是那强盗离我的马车不远，我就要让我的轮子把他碾成肉泥！”
人群受惯了欺压恐吓，也有过长期的痛苦经验。他们知道这样一个人能用合法的和非法的手段给他们带来多么大的痛苦，因此没作-声回答。没有一只手动一动，甚至也没有抬一抬眼睛-一男人中一个也没有，只是那织着毛线的妇女仍然抬着头目不转睛地盯着侯爵的面孔。注意到这一点是有伤候爵的尊严的，他那轻蔑的眼睛从她头顶一扫而过，也从别的耗子头上一扫而过，然后他又向椅背上一靠，发出命令，“走！”
马车载着他走了。别的车一辆接着一辆飞驰过来：总管、谋士、赋税承包商、医生、律师、教士、大歌剧演员、喜剧演员，还有整个化装舞会的参加者，一道琳琅满目的人流飞卷而去。耗子们从洞里爬出来偷看，一看几个小时。士兵和警察常在他们和那织纷的行列之间巡视，形成一道屏障，他们只能在后面逡巡、窥视。那父亲早带着他的包裹躲得不见了。刚才曾照顾过躺在泉边的包裹的妇女们在泉边坐了下来，望着泉水汩汩流过，也望着化装舞会隆隆滚过。刚才惹眼地站在那儿织毛线的妇女还在织着，像个命运女神一样屹立不动。井泉的水奔流着，滔滔的河水奔流着，白天流成了黄昏，城里众多的生命按照规律向死亡流去，时势与潮流不为任何人稍稍驻足。耗子们又在它们黑暗的洞里挤在一起睡了，而化装舞会在明亮的灯光下用着晚餐，一切都在各自的轨道上继续运行。
His man drove as if he were charging an enemy, and the furious recklessness of the man brought no check into the face, or to the lips, of the master. The complaint had sometimes made itself audible, even in that deaf city and dumb age, that, in the narrow streets without footways, the fierce patrician custom of hard driving endangered and maimed the mere vulgar in a barbarous manner. But, few cared enough for that to think of it a second time, and, in this matter, as in all others, the common wretches were left to get out of their difficulties as they could.
With a wild rattle and clatter, and an inhuman abandonment of consideration not easy to be understood in these days, the carriage dashed through streets and swept round corners, with women screaming before it, and men clutching each other and clutching children out of its way. At last, swooping at a street corner by a fountain, one of its wheels came to a sickening little jolt, and there was a loud cry from a number of voices, and the horses reared and plunged.
But for the latter inconvenience, the carriage probably would not have stopped; carriages were often known to drive on, and leave their wounded behind, and why not? But the frightened valet had got down in a hurry, and there were twenty hands at the horses' bridles.
"What has gone wrong?" said Monsieur, calmly looking out.
A tall man in a nightcap had caught up a bundle from among the feet of the horses, and had laid it on the basement of the fountain, and was down in the mud and wet, howling over it like a wild animal.
"Pardon, Monsieur the Marquis!" said a ragged and submissive man, "it is a child."
"Why does he make that abominable noise? Is it his child?"
"Excuse me, Monsieur the Marquis--it is a pity--yes."
The fountain was a little removed; for the street opened, where it was, into a space some ten or twelve yards square. As the tall man suddenly got up from the ground, and came running at the carriage, Monsieur the Marquis clapped his hand for an instant on his sword-hilt.
"Killed!" shrieked the man, in wild desperation, extending both arms at their length above his head, and staring at him. "Dead!"
The people closed round, and looked at Monsieur the Marquis. There was nothing revealed by the many eyes that looked at him but watchfulness and eagerness; there was no visible menacing or anger. Neither did the people say anything; after the first cry, they had been silent, and they remained so. The voice of the submissive man who had spoken, was flat and tame in its extreme submission. Monsieur the Marquis ran his eyes over them all, as if they had been mere rats come out of their holes.
He took out his purse.
"It is extraordinary to me," said he, "that you people cannot take care of yourselves and your children. One or the other of you is for ever in the, way. How do I know what injury you have done my horses. See! Give him that."
He threw out a gold coin for the valet to pick up, and all the heads craned forward that all the eyes might look down at it as it fell. The tall man called out again with a most unearthly cry, "Dead!"
He was arrested by the quick arrival of another man, for whom the rest made way. On seeing him, the miserable creature fell upon his shoulder, sobbing and crying, and pointing to the fountain, where some women were stooping over the motionless bundle, and moving gently about it. They were as silent, however, as the men.
"I know all, I know all," said the last comer. "Be a brave man, my Gaspard! It is better for the poor little plaything to die so, than to live. It has died in a moment without pain. Could it have lived an hour as happily?"
"You are a philosopher, you there," said the, Marquis, smiling. "How do they call you?"
"They call me Defarge."
"Of what trade?"
"Monsieur the Marquis, vendor of wine."
"Pick up that, philosopher and vendor of wine," said the Marquis, throwing him another gold coin, "and spend it as you will. The horses there; are they right?"
Without deigning to look at the assemblage a second time, Monsieur the Marquis leaned back in his seat, and was just being driven away with the air of a gentleman who had accidentally broke some common thing, and had paid for it, and could afford to pay for it; when his ease was suddenly disturbed by a coin flying into his carriage, and ringing on its floor.
"Hold!" said Monsieur the Marquis. "Hold the horses! Who threw that?"
He looked to the spot where Defarge the vendor of wine had stood, a moment before; but the wretched father was grovelling on his face on the pavement in that spot, and the figure that stood beside him was the figure of a dark stout woman, knitting.
"You dogs!" said the Marquis, but smoothly, and with an unchanged front, except as to the spots on his nose: "I would ride over any of you very willingly, and exterminate you from the earth. If I knew which rascal threw at the carriage, and if that brigand were sufficiently near it, he should be crushed under the wheels."
So cowed was their condition, and so long and hard their experience of what such a man could do to them, within the law and beyond it, that not a voice, or a hand, or even an eye was raised. Among the men, not one. But the woman who stood knitting looked up steadily, and looked the Marquis in the face. It was not for his dignity to notice it; his contemptuous eyes passed over her, and over all the other rats; and he leaned back in his seat again, and gave the word "Go on!"
He was driven on, and other carriages came whirling by in quick succession; the Minister, the State-Projector, the Farmer-General, the Doctor, the Lawyer, the Ecclesiastic, the Grand Opera, the Comedy, the whole Fancy Ball in a bright continuous flow, came whirling by. The rats had crept out of their holes to look on, and they remained looking on for hours; soldiers and police often passing between them and the spectacle, and making a barrier behind which they slunk, and through which they peeped. The father had long ago taken up his bundle and bidden himself away with it, when the women who had tended the bundle while it lay on the base of the fountain, sat there watching the running of the water and the rolling of the Fancy Ball--when the one woman who had stood conspicuous, knitting, still knitted on with the steadfastness of Fate. The water of the fountain ran, the swift river ran, the day ran into evening, so much life in the city ran into death according to rule, time and tide waited for no man, the rats were sleeping close together in their dark holes again, the Fancy Ball was lighted up at supper, all things ran their course.