Eugène Sue

“ Then, turning to Dutertre, who was trying to hide his intense distress and to hold on to a last hope, he said:
"How gay happiness makes these young women! Nothing like the sight of them puts joy in the heart, does it, my brave Dutertre?"
"I was laughing in spite of myself, I assure you, my dear M. Pascal," replied Sophie.
"In spite of yourself?" answered our hero. "Why, does some sorrow—"
"Sorrow? Oh, no, thank God! But I was more disposed to tenderness than gaiety. This dear Antonine, if you only knew her, Charles," added the young woman, with sweet emotion, addressing her husband. ”

“ One more question, Sophie, dear. In the period of your early love, you and you husband were, I am certain of it, very anxious to please each other. Never could a toilet be fresh or pretty enough. You heightened by painstaking and agreeableness every charm you possessed; indeed, your only thought was to please your husband, to captivate him always, and to keep him always in love. Your Charles, no doubt, preferred some delicate perfume, and your beautiful hair, your garments, exhaled that sweet odour, which, in time of absence, materialises, so to speak, the memory of a beloved woman. ”

“ What will become of our children and the father of my husband? What will become of us all? Oh, it is horrible! It is horrible!"
"M. Pascal!" said the marquise, with restrained indignation, "the wretch! Oh, yes, I read it in his face; I have seen his insolence and meanness—such a man would be without pity."
"You are acquainted with him?"
"This morning I met him at the palace with the prince. Ah, now I regret having yielded to the anger, the contempt, which this man inspired in me. Why did you not tell me sooner? It is a great misfortune that you did not, Sophie, a great misfortune." ”

“ He loves you as much and perhaps even more than in the past, poor foolish child, because you are the wife whose fidelity has been tested, the tender mother of his children; but you are no longer the infatuating mistress of the past, nor has he that tender, passionate love for you he felt in the first days of your wedded bliss. What I say to you, my good Sophie, may be a little harsh, but the good God knows what he has made us. He has created us of immaterial essence. Neither are we all matter, but neither are we all mind. ”

“ You will become lean, canon, yes, your cheeks will be flabby, your triple chin will melt like wax in the sun, your enormous stomach will become flat like a leather bottle exhausted of its contents, your complexion, so radiant to-day, will grow yellow under the constant flow of your tears, and you will become lean, scraggy, and livid as an anchorite living on roots and water,—do you hear, canon?"
"Pablo," murmured Dom Diégo, shutting his eyes, and leaning on his majordomo, "support me. I feel as if I were struck with death. It seems to me I see my own ghost, such as this demon portrays. ”

“ I think now that the consciousness of accomplishing a mission to the world in giving myself up to unbridled gluttony, will be a delicious aperient for my appetite,—a consciousness which I owe to you, and to you only, doctor. Oh, noble thinker! Oh, grand philosophy!"
"This is the science of gastronomy carried to insanity," said Abbé Ledoux. "It is a new paganism."
"My Lord Diégo," continued the doctor, "we will speak of the gratitude which you think you owe me, when we have taken a view of this last shop. Here is an industry which surpasses in importance all of which we have been speaking. ”

“ Ah, my dear canon, how rich, how juicy! It was right to put this divine dish under the protection of the patron saint of the chase. But let us pass on," continued the doctor, preceding Dom Diégo, who was fascinated and dazzled by a display entirely novel to him, for such wealth of game is unknown in Spain.
"Oh, how grand is Nature in her creations!" said the canon; "what a marvellous scale of pleasures for the palate from the monstrous wild boar to the fig-pecker,—that exquisite little bird! Glory, glory to thee, eternal gratitude to thee," added he, in the manner of an ejaculatory prayer. ”

“ And poor little Antonine! She must be in mortal uneasiness."
"Poor dear child! She is to be pitied. It is such an innocent sorrow, and at the same time so desperate, that my own heart is almost broken. Indeed, Madeleine, I am sure she will die of grief if she must give up Frantz. Ah, death is preferable to some kinds of suffering," added Sophie, with an accent so profoundly sad that the tears rose to her eyes; then, drying them, she added, "Yes, but when one has children, one must live." ”

“ M. Pascal professes a sort of pathetic astonishment, as he complains with a sigh:
"Come, now, I have interfered with your plans; you feel bitterly toward me, alas! I see it."
"Ah, M. Pascal!" cried the unhappy family, more and more disquieted, "how can you conceive such a thought?"
"Oh, I am not mistaken. I see it, I feel it, because my heart tells me so. Eh, my God! just to think of it! It is always a great wrong to put friendship to the proof, even in the smallest things, because they serve sometimes to measure great ones. ”

“ Can any one refuse you anything? Do you remember when we were at school, as soon as a petition was to be addressed to our mistress you were always chosen as ambassadress; and they were right, for, really, you seem to possess a talisman for obtaining all you want."
"I assure you, my good Sophie," replied Madeleine, smiling in spite of herself, "I assure you I am often a magician without trying to be one. My God!" added the marquise, laughing, "how many fine extravagances I have to tell you. But we will see, some other time. Come, dear Sophie, good-bye,—will see you soon." ”

“ For that, monseigneur, interrogate the faces of those whose happiness you have assured; when you will say to one, 'Go, poor exile, return to the country that you weep; your brothers wait for you with open arms,' and to the other, 'My beloved child, be happy, marry Antonine,' then look well at both, monseigneur, and if tears moisten their eyes, as at this moment they moisten yours and mine, be tranquil, monseigneur, you have done good, and for this good, to encourage you because your emotion touches me, I promise you to accompany Antonine to Germany. ”

“ But a man of courage would not have endured the thousandth part of the outrages which you have just brooked, monseigneur. And you a prince! You so proud! You belong to those who believe themselves of a race superior to the vulgar herd. And so for your humble courtiers, your base flatterers, your intimidated followers, you have only haughtiness, and before M. Pascal you abase your sovereign pride! And this, then, is the power of money!" added Madeleine, with increasing exaltation, hurling the words at the financier with a gesture of crushing disdain, "you bow before this man! God have mercy! ”

“ Ah, sir, it is abominable, but I will have my revenge!"
"And this very instant," said the abbé. "Come, Dom Diégo, follow me. A thousand pardons, my dear doctor, to leave you so abruptly, but you understand moments are precious."
The canon, boiling with rage, was about to follow the abbé when Doctor Gasterini said, in a calm voice:
"Canon, a word if you please."
"If you listen to him, you are lost, Dom Diégo!" cried the abbé, dragging the canon with him. "The evil spirit himself is not more insidious than this infernal doctor. Decide for yourself after the trick he has played on you. ”

“ Why not say, positively, 'Admit that I grant you the pardon of Colonel Pernetti.'"
"Very well, then, admit it."
"Good; you grant me this pardon, monseigneur, and you consent to the marriage of Frantz? I must have all or nothing."
"As to the marriage, never, never!"
"Do not say never, monseigneur. Do you know anything about it?"
"After all, a supposition binds me to nothing. Well, to make an end of it, let us admit that I grant all you desire. I will be at least certain of my recompense—"
"You ask it of me, monseigneur? Is not every generous action its own reward?" ”

“ Such was the age of Antonine, and she had the charm and all the charms of that age.
To humanise our Hebe, we will make her descend from her pedestal, and, veiling her delicate and beautiful form, will clothe her in an elegant summer robe; a black silk mantle will hide the exquisite contour of her bust, and a straw hat, lined with silk as rosy as her cheeks, allowing us a view of her chestnut tresses, will serve as a frame for the oval face, as fresh, as fair, and as soft as that of the child she has just embraced. ”

“ I do not know if it is my age, but I have never known such tenacity of desire as I feel for this little girl. But no matter, if I could only take his mistress away from this prince, half of my will would be accomplished; and who knows? This woman is acquainted with Antonine; she seems to have influence over her. Yes, who knows, if once mine, I would not be able by means of money to decide her to—Misery!" cried Pascal, with an explosion of ferocious joy, "what a triumph, to take a wife from this blond youth, and his beautiful mistress from the archduke! ”

“ Oh, stay with us, stay, Mlle. Antonine, the sight of such a good man is so rare, so sweet—But wait, there he is!" exclaimed M. Dutertre, as he saw M. Pascal pass the parlour window.
"I am much impressed with all Sophie and you have told me, M. Dutertre, and I regret I cannot see this generous man to whom you owe so much, but breakfast would detain me too long. I must return early. My uncle expects me, and he has passed a very painful night; in these attacks of suffering he always wants me near him, and these attacks come at any time." ”

“ To marry a little citizen, niece of an old magistrate who has not a cent. Are there not thousands of such marriages? And I could not succeed! and I have thirty millions! Misery! my fortune is to fine purpose, not to take away a mistress from this automaton German prince! After all, she only loves him for his money. He is nearly forty; he is as proud as a peacock, stupid as a goose, and cold as an icicle. I am younger than he, not any uglier, and if he is an archduke, am I not a millionaire? ”

“ Great pleasure for you to have constantly under your eyes the sad face of a poor creature whose eternal misery you have caused! Besides, Antonine is an orphan; nothing forbids her accompanying Frantz; in the place of one child, you would have two. What a relief from your grandeur, from the adulations of a false and selfish and artificial society would the sight of this sweet and smiling happiness be to you; with what joy would you go to refresh your heart and soul in the home of these two children who would cherish you with all the happiness they would owe to you! ”

“ Here Sophie was obliged to interfere again, and translate.
"They ask why it is a feast-day, father."
"Because we are going to have a friend visit us, and when a friend comes to see us, it is always a feast," replied the old man, with a smile somewhat constrained.
"Ah, we must not forget the purse," said Dutertre to his wife.
"Wait a moment," replied Sophie, gaily, to her husband, as she pointed to a little rose-coloured box on the table, "do you think that I, any more than you, could forget our good M. Pascal, our worthy benefactor?" ”

“ It is always 'My noble benefactor, my generous saviour;' they call you 'dear, good man,' load you with attentions; they embroider purses for you and make a feast for you. The little children repeat compliments to you, but let the day come when this poor, innocent man presumes in his turn to ask one or two miserable little favours, then they cry, 'Scoundrel!' 'Unworthy!' 'Infamous!'"
"Any sacrifice, compatible with honour, you might have asked of me, M. Pascal," said Dutertre, in a voice which told how deeply he was wounded, "and I would have made it with joy!" ”

“ Ah, abbé, abbé, I have never loved, but since these three days I comprehend all that is exclusive in love; I comprehend how a man passionately in love remains indifferent to the sight of the most beautiful creature in the world, dreaming, alas!—three times alas!—only of the adored object which he regrets."
"But, canon," said the abbé, looking at Dom Diégo with anxiety, "do you know that all this will result in delirium—in insanity?" ”

“ At fifteen years, and she seems hardly to be so old as that, young girls have no wills of their own. You have acted as mother to Mlle. Antonine, as Dutertre has told me; you possess great influence over her, nothing would be more easy, by talking to her of me in a certain manner, when you shall have presented me to her, and that can be not later than to-morrow, can it not? I repeat, it will be easy for you to induce her to share my love, and to marry me. If I owe you this happiness, my dear Madame Dutertre, wait and see," added Pascal, with a tone full of emotion and sincerity. ”