真不错！用完了机器翻译，再用人脑润色，就完美了。
The first book - A fair
Chapter I
Mr Myriel
In 1815, Charles-Francois-Bienvenu Myriel was Bishop of Digne. It was an old man of about sixty-five years he held the seat from Digne since 1806.
Although this detail does in any way the substance of what we have to tell, it may be worthwhile, if only to be exact in all, an indication of the sounds and words which had accrued to his account when he arrived in the diocese. True or false, what is said men often as important in their lives and especially in their destiny than they do. Mr. Myriel was the son of an adviser to parliament of Aix; nobility of dress. One tale of him that his father, reserving to inherit his office, had married very early, at eighteen or twenty years, widespread use in parliamentary families. Charles Myriel, notwithstanding this marriage, had said, much about him. It was because of his person, although relatively small, elegant, graceful, spiritual, throughout the first part of his life had been given to the world and gallantries. The revolution came, events rushed, families decimated parliamentarians, hunted, tracked, is dispersed. Mr. Charles Myriel, from the earliest days of the revolution, emigrated to Italy. His wife died of a disease whose chest was reached long ago. They have no children. What will happen then in the destiny of Mr. Myriel? The collapse of the former French company, the fall of his own family, the tragic events of 93, more frightening yet perhaps for expatriates who saw them from afar with the magnification of the horror, did they germinate in his ideas of renunciation and solitude? It was, in the midst of these distractions and these disorders who occupied his life, suddenly reached one of those mysterious and terrible blows which sometimes come overthrow, by striking at the heart, man public that disasters n'ébranleraient not hitting him in his life and his fortune? No one could say, all we knew is that, when returned to Italy he was a priest.
In 1804, Mr. Myriel was pastor of B. (Brignolles). It was already old, and lived in a retirement deep.
Around the time of coronation, a small matter of his cure, no one knows more about what led him to Paris. Among other powerful people, he went to seek his parishioners Mr. Cardinal Fesch. One day the emperor had come to visit his uncle, the worthy pastor, who was waiting in the anteroom, found himself on the passage of his majesty. Napoleon, being watched with some curiosity by this old man, turned and said sharply:
- What is this guy who looks at me?
- Sire, said Myriel, you watch a guy, and I watch a great man. Each of us can benefit.
The emperor, the same evening, asked the Cardinal the name of the priest and sometime after Mr. Myriel was amazed to learn that he was appointed Bishop of Digne.
What was true, moreover, in the stories we did on the first part of the life of Mr. Myriel? Nobody knew. Few families had known the family Myriel before the revolution.
Mr. Myriel had to suffer the fate of every newcomer in a small town where there are many mouths to speak and very few heads which think. He had to suffer, even though bishop and because he was bishop. But after all, about which we mixed his name was perhaps that connection, noise, words, words, unless of speech, talk, said as the energetic language of noon.
What it was, after nine years of episcopate and residence in Digne, all these racontages, conversation topics that occupy the first time in the small towns and small people, had fallen into a deep oblivion. Nobody had dared to speak, nobody had even dared to remember.
Mr. Myriel had arrived in Digne accompanied by an old girl, miss Baptistin, who was his sister who was ten years younger than him.
They were all domestic servant of the same age as Baptistin miss, and called Madame Magloire, which, having been the servant of M. le Cure, now takes twice as maid of miss and wife monsignor load.
Baptistin miss was a long, pale, thin, soft, making it the ideal expressed that the word "respectable" because it seems necessary that a woman is mother to be venerable. It was never pretty; all his life, which had been a series of holy deeds, had finally put it on a kind of brightness and clarity and, with age, she had won what one might call the beauty of goodness. What had been wasting in his youth had become, in its maturity, transparency, and this diaphanéité could see the angel. It was a soul more than it was a virgin. Her person seemed made of shadow; barely enough body so that there would have is a sex; some material containing a glimmer; large eyes still downcast, a pretext for a soul left on earth.
Madame Magloire was a little old, white, fat, replete, busy, always thrilling, because of its business first, then because of asthma.
Upon his arrival, Mr. Myriel was installed in his episcopal palace with the honors required by imperial decree that classify the bishop immediately after the Marshall camp. The mayor and the president made him the first visit, and he in turn made the first visit to General and the prefect.
The installation is complete, the city waited his bishop at work
