The student meanwhile walked back from the Theatre-Italien to the Rue2 Neuve-Sainte-Genevieve, making the most delightful4 plans as he went. He had noticed how closely Mme. de Restaud had scrutinized5 him when he sat beside Mme. de Nucingen, and inferred that the Countess' doors would not be closed in the future. Four important houses were now open to him--for he meant to stand well with the Marechale; he had four supporters in the inmost circle of society in Paris. Even now it was clear to him that, once involved in this intricate social machinery6, he must attach himself to a spoke7 of the wheel that was to turn and raise his fortunes; he would not examine himself too curiously8 as to the methods, but he was certain of the end, and conscious of the power to gain and keep his hold.
"If Mme. de Nucingen takes an interest in me, I will teach her how to manage her husband. That husband of hers is a great speculator; he might put me in the way of making a fortune by a single stroke."
He did not say this bluntly in so many words; as yet, indeed, he was not sufficient of a diplomatist to sum up a situation, to see its possibilities at a glance, and calculate the chances in his favor. These were nothing but hazy9 ideas that floated over his mental horizon; they were less cynical10 than Vautrin's notions; but if they had been tried in the crucible11 of conscience, no very pure result would have issued from the test. It is by a succession of such like transactions that men sink at last to the level of the relaxed morality of this epoch12, when there have never been so few of those who square their courses with their theories, so few of those noble characters who do not yield to temptation, for whom the slightest deviation13 from the line of rectitude is a crime. To these magnificent types of uncompromising Right we owe two masterpieces--the Alceste of Moliere, and, in our own day, the characters of Jeanie Deans and her father in Sir Walter Scott's novel. Perhaps a work which should chronicle the opposite course, which should trace out all the devious14 courses through which a man of the world, a man of ambitions, drags his conscience, just steering15 clear of crime that he may gain his end and yet save appearances, such a chronicle would be no less edifying16 and no less dramatic.
Rastignac went home. He was fascinated by Mme. de Nucingen; he seemed to see her before him, slender and graceful17 as a swallow. He recalled the intoxicating18 sweetness of her eyes, her fair hair, the delicate silken tissue of the skin, beneath which it almost seemed to him that he could see the blood coursing; the tones of her voice still exerted a spell over him; he had forgotten nothing; his walk perhaps heated his imagination by sending a glow of warmth through his veins19. He knocked unceremonioesly at Goriot's door.
"I have seen Mme. Delphine, neighbor," said he.
"Where?"
"At the Italiens."
"Did she enjoy it?. . . . Just come inside," and the old man left his bed, unlocked the door, and promptly20 returned again.
It was the first time that Eugene had been in Father Goriot's room, and he could not control his feeling of amazement21 at the contrast between the den1 in which the father lived and the costume of the daughter whom he had just beheld22. The window was curtainless, the walls were damp, in places the varnished23 wallpaper had come away and gave glimpses of the grimy yellow plaster beneath. The wretched bed on which the old man lay boasted but one thin blanket, and a wadded quilt made out of large pieces of Mme. Vauquer's old dresses. The floor was damp and gritty. Opposite the window stood a chest of drawers made of rosewood, one of the old-fashioned kind with a curving front and brass24 handles, shaped like rings of twisted vine stems covered with flowers and leaves. On a venerable piece of furniture with a wooden shelf stood a ewer25 and basin and shaving apparatus26. A pair of shoes stood in one corner; a night-table by the bed had neither a door nor marble slab27. There was not a trace of a fire in the empty grate; the square walnut28 table with the crossbar against which Father Goriot had crushed and twisted his possetdish stood near the hearth29. The old man's hat was lying on a broken-down bureau. An armchair stuffed with straw and a couple of chairs completed the list of ramshackle furniture. From the tester of the bed, tied to the ceiling by a piece of rag, hung a strip of some cheap material in large red and black checks. No poor drudge30 in a garret could be worse lodged31 than Father Goriot in Mme. Vauquer's lodging-house. The mere32 sight of the room sent a chill through you and a sense of oppression; it was like the worst cell in a prison. Luckily, Goriot could not see the effect that his surroundings produced on Eugene as the latter deposited his candle on the night-table. The old man turned round, keeping the bedclothes huddled33 up to his chin.
"Well," he said, "and which do you like the best, Mme. de Restaud or Mme. de Nucingen?"
"I like Mme. Delphine the best," said the law student, "because she loves you the best."
At the words so heartily34 spoken the old man's hand slipped out from under the bedclothes and grasped Eugene's.
"Thank you, thank you," he said, gratefully. "Then what did she say about me?"
The student repeated the Baroness36' remarks with some embellishments of his own, the old man listening the while as though he heard a voice from Heaven.
"Dear child!" he said. "Yes, yes, she is very fond of me. But you must not believe all that she tells you about Anastasie. The two sisters are jealous of each other, you see, another proof of their affection. Mme. de Restaud is very fond of me too. I know she is. A father sees his children as God sees all of us; he looks into the very depths of their hearts; he knows their intentions; and both of them are so loving. Oh! if I only had good sons-in-law, I should be too happy, and I dare say there is no perfect happiness here below. If I might live with them-simply hear their voices, know that they are there, see them go and come as I used to do at home when they were still with me; why, my heart bounds at the thought. . . . Were they nicely dressed?"
"Yes," said Eugene. "But, M. Goriot, how is it that your daughters have such fine houses, while you live in such a den as this?"
"Dear me, why should I want anything better?" he replied, with qeeming carelessness. "I can't quite explain to you how it is; I am not used to stringing words together properly, but it all lies there----" he said, tapping his heart. "My real life is in my two girls, you see; and so long as they are happy, and smartly dressed, and have soft carpets under their feet, what does it matter what clothes I wear or where I lie down of a night? I shall never feel cold so long as they are warm; I shall never feel dull if they are laughing. I have no troubles but theirs. When you, too, are a father, and you hear your children's little voices, you will say to yourself, 'That has all come from me.' You will feel that those little ones are akin3 to every drop in your veins, that they are the very flower of your life (and what else are they?); you will cleave37 so closely to them that you seem to feel every movement that they make. Everywhere I hear their voices sounding in my ears. If they are sad, the look in their eyes freezes my blood. Some day you will find out that there is far more happiness in another's happiness than in your own. It is something that I cannot explain, something within that sends a glow of warmth all through you. In short, I live my life three times over. Shall I tell you something funny? Well, then, since I have been a father, I have come to understand God. He is everywhere in the world, because the whole world comes from Him. And it is just the same with my children, monsieur. Only, I love my daughters better than God loves the world, for the world is not so beautiful as God Himself is, but my children are more beautiful than I am. Their lives are so bound up with mine that I felt somehow that you would see them this evening. Great Heaven! If any man would make my little Delphine as happy as a wife is when she is loved, I would black his boots and run on his errands. That miserable38 M. de Marsay is a cur; I know all about him from her maid. A longing39 to wring40 his neck comes over me now and then. He does
not love her! does not love a pearl of a woman, with a voice like a nightingale and shaped like a model. Where can her eyes have been when she married that great lump of an Alsatian? They ought both of them to have married young men, good-looking and good-tempered--but, after all, they had their own way."
Father Goriot was sublime41. Eugene had never yet seen his face light up as it did now with the passionate42 fervor43 of a father's love. It is worthy44 of remark that strong feeling has a very subtle and pervasive45 power; the roughest nature, in the endeavor to express a deep and sincere affection, communicates to others the influence that has put resonance46 into the voice, and eloquence47 into every gesture, wrought48 a change in the very features of the speaker; for under the inspiration of passion the stupidest human being attains49 to the highest eloquence of ideas, if not of language, and seems to move in some sphere of light. In the old man's tones and gesture there was something just then of the same spell that a great actor exerts over his audience. But does not the poet in us find expression in our affections?
"Well," said Eugene, "perhaps you will not be sorry to hear that she is pretty sure to break with de Marsay before long. That sprig of fashion has left her for the Princesse Galathionne. For my part, I fell in love with Mme. Delphine this evening."
"Stuff!" said Father Goriot.
"I did indeed, and she did not regard me with aversion. For a whole hour we talked of love, and I am to go to call on her on Saturday, the day after to-morrow."
"Oh! how I should love you, if she should like you. You are kindhearted; you would never make her miserable. If you were to forsake50 her, I would cut your throat at once. A woman does not love twice, you see! Good heavens! what nonsense I am talking, M. Eugene! It is cold; you ought not to stay here. MON DIEU! so you have heard her speak? What message did she give you for me?"
"None at all," said Eugene to himself; aloud he answered, "She told me to tell you that your daughter sends you a good kiss."
"Good-night, neighbor! Sleep well, and pleasant dreams to you! I have mine already made for me by that message from her. May God grant you all your desires! You have come in like a good angel on me to-night, and brought with you the air that my daughter breathes."
"Poor old fellow!" said Eugene as he lay down. "It is enough to melt a heart of stone. His daughter no more thought of him than of the Grand Turk."
Ever after this conference Goriot looked upon his neighbor as a friend, a confidant such as he had never hoped to find; and there was established between the two the only relationship that could attach this old man to another man. The passions never miscalculate. Father Goriot felt that this friendship brought him closer to his daughter Delphine; he thought that he should find a warmer welcome for himself if the Baroness should care for Eugene. Moreover, he had confided51 one of his troubles to the younger man. Mme. de Nucingen, for whose happiness he prayed a thousand times daily, had never known the joys of love. Eugene was certainly (to make use of his own expression) one of the nicest young men that he had ever seen, and some prophetic instinct seemed to tell him that Eugene was to give her the happiness which had not been hers. These were the beginnings of a friendship that grew up between the old man and his neighbor; but for this friendship the catastrophe52 of the drama must have remained a mystery.
The affection with which Father Goriot regarded Eugene, by whom he seated himself at breakfast, the change in Goriot's face, which as a rule, looked as expressionless as a plaster cast, and a few words that passed between the two, surprised the other lodgers53. Vautrin, who saw Eugene for the first time since their interview, seemed as if he would fain read the student's very soul. During the night Eugene had had some time in which to scan the vast field which lay before him; and now, as he remembered yesterday's proposal, the thought of Mlle. Taillefer's dowry came, of course, to his mind, and he could not help thinking of Victorine as the most exemplary youth may think of an heiress. It chanced that their eyes met. The poor girl did not fail to see that Eugene looked very handsome in his new clothes. So much was said in the glance, thus exchanged, that Eugene could not doubt but that he was associated in her mind with the vague hopes that lie dormant54 in a girl's heart and gather round the first attractive newcomer. "Eight hundred thousand francs!" a voice cried in his ears, but suddenly he took refuge in the memories of yesterday evening, thinking that his extemporized55 passion for Mme. de Nucingen was a talisman56 that would preserve him from this temptation.
"They gave Rossini's Barber of Seville at the Italiens yesterday evening," he remarked. "I never heard such delicious music. Good gracious! how lucky people are to have a box at the Italiens!"
Father Goriot drank in every word that Eugene let fall, and watched him as a dog watches his master's slightest movement.
"You men are like fighting cocks," said Mme. Vauquer; "you do what you like."
"How did you get back?" inquired Vautrin.
"I walked," answered Eugene.
"For my own part," remarked the tempter, "I do not care about doing things by halves. If I want to enjoy myself that way, I should prefer to go in my carriage, sit in my own box, and do the thing comfortably. Everything or nothing; that is my motto."
"And a good one, too," commented Mme. Vauquer.
"Perhaps you will see Mme. de Nucingen to-day," said Eugene, addressing Goriot in an undertone. "She will welcome you with open arms, I am sure; she would want to ask you for all sorts of little details about me. I have found out that she will do anything in the world to be known by my cousin Mme. de Beauseant; don't forget to tell her that I love her too well not to think of trying to arrange this."
Rastignac went at once to the Ecole de Droit. He had no mind to stay a moment longer than was necessary in that odious57 house. He wasted his time that day; he had fallen a victim to that fever of the brain that accompanies the too vivid hopes of youth. Vautrin's arguments had set him meditating58 on social life, and he was deep in these reflections when he happened on his friend Bianchon in the Jardin du Luxembourg.
"What makes you look so solemn?" said the medical student, putting an arm through Eugene's as they went towards the Palais.
"I am tormented59 by temptations."
"What kind? There is a cure for temptation."
"What?"
"Yielding to it."
"You laugh, but you don't know what it is all about. Have you read Rousseau?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember that he asks the reader somewhere what he would do if he could make a fortune by killing60 an old mandarin61 somewhere in China by mere force of wishing it, and without stirring from Paris?"
"Yes."
"Well, then?"
"Pshaw! I am at my thirty-third mandarin."
"Seriously, though. Look here, suppose you were sure that you could do it, and had only to give a nod. Would you do it?"
"Is he well ctricken in years, this mandarin of yours? Pshaw! after all, young or old, paralytic62, or well and sound, my word for it. . . . Well, then. Hang it, no!"
"You are a good fellow, Bianchon. But suppose you loved a woman well enough to lose your soul in hell for her, and that she wanted money for dresses and a carriage, and all her whims63, in fact?"
"Why, here you are taking away my reason, and want me to reason!"
"Well, then, Bianchon, I am mad; bring me to my senses. I have two sisters as beautiful and innocent as angels, and I want them to be happy. How am I to find two hundred thousand francs apiece for them in the next five years? Now and then in life, you see, you must play for heavy stakes, and it is no use wasting your luck on low play."
"But you are only stating the problem that lies before every one at the outset of his life, and you want to cut the Gordian knot with a sword. If that is the way of it, dear boy, you must be an Alexander, or to the hulks you go. For my own part, I am quite contented64 with the little lot I mean to make for myself somewhere in the country, when I mean to step into my father's shoes and plod65 along. A man's affections are just as fully35 satisfied by the smallest circle as they can be by a vast circumference66. Napoleon himself could only dine once, and he could not have more mistresses than a house student at the Capuchins. Happiness, old man, depends on what lies between the sole of your foot and the crown of your head; and whether it costs a million or a hundred louis, the actual amount of pleasure that you receive rests entirely67 with you, and is just exactly the same in any case. I am for letting that Chinaman live."
"Thank you, Bianchon; you have done me good. We will always be friends."
"I say," remarked the medical student, as they came to the end of a broad walk in the Jardin des Plantes, "I saw the Michonneau and Poiret a few minutes ago on a bench chatting with a gentleman whom I used to see in last year's troubles hanging about the Chamber68 of Deputies; he seems to me, in fact, to be a detective dressed up like a decent retired69 tradesman. Let us keep an eye on that couple; I will tell you why some time. Good-bye; it is nearly four o'clock, and I must be in to answer to my name."
When Eugene reached the lodging-house, he found Father Goriot waiting for him.
"Here," cried the old man, "here is a letter from her. Pretty handwriting, eh?"
Eugene broke the seal and read:-
"Sir,--I have heard from my father that you are fond of Italian music. shall be delighted if you will do me the pleasure of accepting a seat in my box. La Fodor and Pellegrini will sing on Saturday, so I am sure that you will not refuse me. M. de Nucingen and I shall be pleased if you will dine with us; we shall be quite by ourselves. If you will come and be my escort, my husband will be glad to be relieved from his conjugal70 duties. Do not answer, but simply come.--Yours sincerely, D. DE N."
"Let me see it," said Father Goriot, when Eugene had read the letter. "You are going, aren't you?" he added, when he had smelled the writing-paper. "How nice it smells! Her fingers have touched it, that is certain."
"A woman does not fling herself at a man's head in this way," the student was thinking. "She wants to use me to bring back de Marsay; nothing but pique71 makes a woman do a thing like this."
"Well," said Father Goriot, "what are you thinking about?"
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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crucible
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| n.坩锅，严酷的考验 | |
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epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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deviation
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| n.背离，偏离；偏差，偏向；离题 | |
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devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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edifying
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| adj.有教训意味的，教训性的，有益的v.开导，启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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varnished
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| 浸渍过的，涂漆的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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ewer
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| n.大口水罐 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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drudge
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| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
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lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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baroness
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| n.男爵夫人，女男爵 | |
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cleave
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| v．(clave；cleaved)粘着，粘住；坚持；依恋 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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longing
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wring
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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pervasive
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| adj.普遍的；遍布的，(到处)弥漫的；渗透性的 | |
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resonance
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| n.洪亮；共鸣；共振 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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attains
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的第三人称单数 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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forsake
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| vt.遗弃，抛弃；舍弃，放弃 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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lodgers
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| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
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dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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extemporized
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| v.即兴创作，即席演奏( extemporize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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talisman
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| n.避邪物，护身符 | |
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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Mandarin
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| n.中国官话，国语，满清官吏；adj.华丽辞藻的 | |
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paralytic
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| adj. 瘫痪的 n. 瘫痪病人 | |
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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plod
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| v.沉重缓慢地走，孜孜地工作 | |
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circumference
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| n.圆周，周长，圆周线 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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conjugal
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| adj.婚姻的，婚姻性的 | |
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pique
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| v.伤害…的自尊心，使生气 n.不满，生气 | |
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