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高老头|Le Pere Goriot

初见世面

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 巴尔扎克] 阅读：[23901]
讲述主人公高老头是法国大革命时期起家的面粉商人，中年丧妻，他把自己所有的爱都倾注在两个女儿身上，为了让她们挤进上流社会，从小给她们良好的教育，且出嫁时给了她们每人80万法郎的陪嫁，可他的两个女儿生活放荡，挥金如土，他的爱轻而易举就被金钱至上的原则战胜了。
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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十二月第一星期的末了，拉斯蒂涅接到两封信，一封是母亲的，一封是大妹妹的。那些一望而知的笔迹使他快乐得心跳，害怕得发抖。对于他的希望，两张薄薄的纸等于一道生死攸关的判决书。想到父母姊妹的艰苦，他固然有点害怕；可是她们对他的溺爱，他太有把握了，尽可放心大胆吸取她们最后几滴血。母亲的信是这样写的：

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“亲爱的孩子，你要的钱我寄给你了。但望好好地使用，下次即使要救你性命，我也不能瞒了父亲再张罗这样大的数目，那要动摇我们的命根，拿田地去抵押了。我不知道计划的内容，自然无从批评；但究竟是什么性质的计划，你不敢告诉我呢？要解释，用不着写上几本书，我们为娘的只要一句话就明白，而这句话可以免得我因为无从捉摸而牵肠挂肚。告诉你，来信使我非常痛苦。好孩子，究竟是什么情绪使你引起我这样的恐怖呢？你写信的时候大概非常难受吧，因为我看信的时候就很难受。你想干哪一行呢？难道你的前途，你的幸福，就在于装出你没有的身份，花费你负担不起的本钱，浪费你宝贵的求学的光阴，去见识那个社会吗？孩子，相信你母亲吧，拐弯抹角的路决无伟大的成就。像你这种情形的青年，应当以忍耐与安命为美德。我不埋怨你，我不愿我们的贡献对你有半点儿苦味。我的话是一个又相信儿子，又有远见的母亲的话。你知道你的责任所在，我也知道你的心是纯洁的，你的用意是极好的。所以我很放心地对你说：好，亲爱的，去干吧！我战战兢兢，因为我是母亲；但你每走一步，我们的愿望和祝福总是陪你一步。谨慎小心呀，亲爱的孩子。你应当像大人一般明哲，你心爱的五个人[1]的命运都在你的肩上。是啊，我们的财富都在你身上，正如你的幸福就是我们的幸福。我们都求上帝帮助你的计划。你的姑母真是好到极点，她甚至懂得你关于手套的话。她很快活地说，她对长子特别软心。欧也纳，你应该深深地爱她，她为你所做的事，等你成功以后再告诉你，否则她的钱要使你烫手的。你们做孩子的还不知道什么叫作牺牲纪念物！可是我们哪一样不能为你牺牲呢？她要我告诉你，说她亲你的前额，希望你常常快乐。倘不是手指害痛风症，她也要写信给你呢。父亲身体很好。今年的收成超过了我们的希望。再会了，亲爱的孩子，关于你妹妹们的事，我不说了，洛尔另外有信给你。她喜欢拉拉扯扯地谈家常，我就让她来了。但求上天使你成功！噢！是的，你非成功不可，欧也纳，你使我太痛苦了，我再也受不了第二次。因为巴望能有财产给我的孩子，我才懂得贫穷的滋味。好了，再会吧。切勿杳无音信。接受你母亲的亲吻吧。”

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[1]父亲，母亲，两个妹妹，两个兄弟，一个姑母，应当是七个人。
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欧也纳念完信，哭了。他想到高老头扭掉镀金盘子，卖了钱替女儿还债的情景。“你的母亲也扭掉了她的首饰，”他对自己说，“姑母卖掉纪念物的时候一定也哭了。你有什么权利诅咒阿娜斯大齐呢？她为了情人，你为了只顾自己的前程，你比她强在哪里？”大学生肚子里有些热不可当的感觉。他想放弃上流社会，不拿这笔钱。这种良心上的责备正是心胸高尚的表现，一般人批判同胞的时候不大理会这一点，唯有天上的安琪儿才会考虑到，所以人间的法官所判的罪犯，常常会得到天使的赦免。拉斯蒂涅拆开妹子的信，天真而婉转的措辞使他心里轻松了些。

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“亲爱的哥哥，你的信来得正好，阿迦德和我，想把我们的钱派作多少用场，简直决不定买哪样好了。你像西班牙王的仆人一样，打碎了主子的表，倒反解决了他的难题；你一句话教我们齐了心。真的，为了选择问题，我们老是在拌嘴，可做梦也想不到，原来只有一项用途真正能满足我们所有的欲望。阿迦德快活得直跳起来。我们俩乐得整天疯疯癫癫，以至于（姑母的说法）妈妈扮起一本正经的脸来问：‘什么事呀，两位小姐？’如果我们因此受到一言半语的埋怨，我相信我们还要快活呢。一个女子为了所爱的人受苦才是乐事！只有我在快乐之中觉得不痛快，有点儿心事。将来我绝不是一个贤惠的女人，我太会花钱，买了两根腰带，一支穿引胸衣小孔的美丽的引针，一些无聊东西，因此我的钱没有胖子阿迦德多；她很省俭，把洋钱一块块积起来像喜鹊一样。[2]她有两百法郎！我么，可怜的朋友，我只有一百五十。我大大地遭了报应，真想把腰带扔在井里，从此我用到腰带心中就要不舒适了。唉，我揩了你的油。阿迦德真好，她说：‘咱们把三百五十法郎合在一块儿寄给他吧！’实际情形恕不详细奉告！我们依照你的吩咐，拿了这笔了不得的款子假装出去散步，一上大路，直奔吕番克村，把钱交给驿站站长格冷贝先生。回来我们身轻如燕。阿迦德问我：‘是不是因为快乐我们身体这样轻？’我们不知讲了多少话，恕不细述了。反正谈的是你巴黎佬的事。噢！好哥哥，我们真爱你！要说守秘密吧，像我们这样的调皮姑娘，据姑母说，什么都做得出来，就是守口如瓶也办得到。母亲和姑母偷偷摸摸地上安古兰末，两人对旅行的目标绝口不提，动身之前，还经过一次长时期的会议，我们和男爵大人都不准参加。在拉斯蒂涅国里，大家纷纷猜测。公主们给王后陛下所绣的小孔纱衫，极秘密地赶起来，把两条边补足了。凡端伊方面决定不砌围墙，用篱笆代替。小百姓要损失果子，再没有钉在墙上的果树，但外人可以赏玩一下园内的好风景。如果王太子需要手帕，特·玛西阿母后在多年不动的库房里，找出了一匹遗忘已久的上等荷兰细布；阿迦德和洛尔两位公主，正在打点针线和老是冻得红红的手，听候太子命令。唐·亨利和唐·迦勃里哀两位小王子还是那么淘气：狂吞葡萄酱，惹姊姊们冒火，不肯念书，喜欢掏鸟窠，吵吵嚷嚷，冒犯禁令去砍伐柳条，做枪做棒。教皇的专使，俗称为本堂教士，威吓说要驱逐他们出教，如果他们再放着神圣的文法不学而去舞枪弄棒。再会吧，亲爱的哥哥，我这封信表示我对你全心全意的祝福，也表示我对你的友爱得到了极大的满足。你将来回家，一定有许多事情告诉我！你什么都不会瞒我，是不是？我是大妹妹呀。姑母曾经透露一句，说你在交际场中颇为得意。

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[2]西方各国传说，喜鹊爱金属发光之物，乡居人家常有金属物被喜鹊衔去之事。
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只讲起一个女子，其余便只字不提。

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只字不提，当然是对我们啰！喂！欧也纳，你需要的话，我们可以省下手帕的布替你做衬衣。关于这一点，快快来信。倘若你马上要做工很好的漂亮衬衫，我们得立刻赶做；有什么我们不知道的巴黎式样，你寄个样子来，尤其袖口。再会了，再会了！我吻你的左额，那是专属于我的。另外一张信纸我留给阿迦德，她答应凡是我写的话决不偷看。可是为保险起见，她写的时候我要在旁监视。

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爱你的妹妹洛尔·特·拉斯蒂涅。”

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“哦！是啊，是啊，”欧也纳心里想，“无论如何非发财不可！奇珍异宝也报答不了这样的忠诚。我得把世界上所有的幸福都带给她们。”他停了一会又想：“一千五百五十法郎，每个法郎都得用在刀口上！洛尔说得不错。该死！我只有粗布衬衫。为了男人的幸福，女孩子家曾像小偷一样机灵。她那么天真，为我设想却那么周到，犹如天上的安琪儿，根本不懂得尘世的罪过便宽恕了。”

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于是世界是他的了！先把裁缝叫来，探过口气，居然答应赊账。见过了脱拉伊先生，拉斯蒂涅懂得裁缝对青年人的生活影响极大。为了账单，裁缝要不是一个死冤家，便是一个好朋友，总是走极端的。欧也纳所找的那个，懂得人要衣装的老话，自命为能够把青年人捧出山。后来拉斯蒂涅感激之余，在他那套巧妙的谈吐里有两句话，使那个成衣匠发了财：

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“我知道有人靠了他做的两条裤子，攀了一门有两万法郎陪嫁的亲事。”

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一千五百法郎现款，再加可以赊账的衣服！这么一来，南方的穷小子变得信心十足。他下楼用早餐的时候，自有一个年轻人有了几文的那种说不出的神气。钱落到一个大学生的口袋里，他马上觉得有了靠山。走路比从前有劲得多，杠杆有了着力的据点，眼神丰满，敢于正视一切，全身的动作也灵活起来；隔夜还怯生生的，挨了打不敢还手；此刻可有胆子得罪内阁总理了。他心中有了不可思议的变化：他无所不欲，无所不能，想入非非地又要这样又要那样，兴高采烈，豪爽非凡，话也多起来了。总之，从前没有羽毛的小鸟如今长了翅膀。没有钱的大学生拾取一星半点的欢娱，像一条狗冒着无穷的危险偷一根骨头，一边咬着嚼着，吮着骨髓，一边还在跑。等到小伙子袋里有了几枚不容易招留的金洋，就会把乐趣细细地体味，咀嚼，得意非凡，魂灵儿飞上半天，再不知穷苦二字怎讲。整个巴黎都是他的了。那是样样闪着金光、爆出火花的年龄！成年以后的男女哪还有这种快活劲儿！那是欠债的年龄，提心吊胆的年龄！而就因为提心吊胆，一切欢乐才格外有意思！凡是不熟悉塞纳河左岸，没有在拉丁区混过的人，根本不懂得人生！

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拉斯蒂涅咬着伏盖太太家一个铜子一个的煮熟梨，心上想：“嘿！巴黎的妇女知道了，准会到这儿来向我求爱。”

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这时栅门上的铃声一响，驿车公司的一个信差走进饭厅。他找欧也纳·特·拉斯蒂涅先生，交给他两只袋和一张签字的回单。欧也纳被伏脱冷深深地瞅了一眼，好像被鞭子抽了一下。

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伏脱冷对他说：“那你可以去找老师学击剑打枪了。”

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“金船到了。”伏盖太太瞧着钱袋说。

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米旭诺小姐不敢对钱袋望，唯恐人家看出她贪心。

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“你的妈妈真好。”古的太太说。

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“他的妈妈真好，”波阿莱马上跟了一句。

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“对啊，妈妈连血都挤出来了。”伏脱冷道，“现在你可以胡闹，可以交际，去钓一笔陪嫁，跟那些满头桃花的伯爵夫人跳舞了。可是听我的话，小朋友，靶子场非常去不可。”

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伏脱冷做了一个瞄准的姿势。拉斯蒂涅想拿酒钱给信差，一个钱都掏不出来。伏脱冷拿一个法郎丢给来人。

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“你的信用是不错的。”他望着大学生说。

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拉斯蒂涅只得谢了他，虽然那天从鲍赛昂家回来，彼此抢白过几句以后，他非常讨厌这个家伙。在那八天之内，欧也纳和伏脱冷见了面都不作声，彼此只用冷眼观察。大学生想来想去也不明白是怎么回事。大概思想的放射，总是以孕育思想的力量为准的，头脑要把思想送到什么地方，思想便落在什么地方，准确性不下于从炮身里飞出去的弹丸，效果却个个不同。有些娇嫩的个性，思想可以钻进去损坏组织；也有些武装坚强的个性，铜墙铁壁式的头脑，旁人的意志打上去只能颓然堕下，好像炮弹射着城墙一样；还有软如棉花的个性，旁人的思想一碰到它便失掉作用，犹如炮弹落在堡垒外面的泥沟里。拉斯蒂涅的那种头脑却是装满了火药，一触即发，他朝气太旺，不能避免思想放射的作用，接触到别人的感情，不能不感染，许多古怪的现象在他不知不觉之间种在他心里。他的精神视觉像他的山猫眼睛一样明彻；每种灵敏的感官都有那种神秘的力量，能够感知遥远的思想，也具有那种反应敏捷、往返自如的弹性；我们在优秀的人物身上，善于把握敌人缺点的战士身上，就是佩服这种弹性。并且一个月以来，欧也纳所发展的优点跟缺点一样多。他的缺点是社会逼出来的，也是满足他日趋高涨的欲望所必需的。在他的优点中间，有一项是南方人的兴奋活泼，喜欢单刀直入解决困难，受不了不上不下的局面；北方人把这个优点称为缺点，他们以为这种性格如果是缪拉成功的秘诀，也是他丧命的原因。[3]由此可以得出一个结论：如果一个南方人把北方人的狡猾和洛阿河彼岸[4]的勇猛联合起来，就可成为全才，坐上瑞典的王位。[5]因此，拉斯蒂涅决不能长久处于伏脱冷的炮火之下，而不弄清楚这家伙究竟为敌为友。他常常觉得这怪人看透他的情欲，看透他的心思，而这怪人自己却把一切藏得那么严，其深不可测正如无所不知、无所不见而一言不发的斯芬克斯。这时欧也纳荷包里有了几文，想反抗了。伏脱冷喝完了最后几口咖啡，预备起身出去，欧也纳说：

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[3]缪拉为法国南方人，拿破仑之妹婿，帝政时代名将之一，曾为拿波里王，终为奥军俘获枪决，以大胆勇猛出名。
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“对不起，请你等一下。”

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“干吗？”伏脱冷回答，一边戴上他的阔边大帽，提起铁手杖。平时他常常拿这根手杖在空中舞动，大有三四个强盗来攻击也不怕的神气。

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“我要还你钱。”拉斯蒂涅说着，急急忙忙解开袋子，数出一百四十法郎给伏盖太太，说道：“账算清，朋友亲。到今年年底为止，咱们两讫了。再请兑五法郎零钱给我。”

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“朋友亲，账算清。”波阿莱瞧着伏脱冷重复了一句。

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“这儿还你一法郎。”拉斯蒂涅把钱授给那个戴假头发的斯芬克斯。

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“好像你就怕欠我的钱，嗯？”伏脱冷大声说着，犀利的目光直瞧到他心里；那副涎皮赖脸的挖苦人的笑容，欧也纳一向讨厌，想跟他闹了好几回了。

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“嗳……是的。”大学生回答，提着两只钱袋预备上楼了。

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伏脱冷正要从通到客厅的门里出去，大学生想从通到楼梯道的门里出去。

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“你知道吗，特·拉斯蒂涅喇嘛侯爵大人，你的话不大客气？”伏脱冷说着，砰的一声关上客厅的门，迎着大学生走过来。大学生冷冷地瞅着他。

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拉斯蒂涅带上饭厅的门，拉着伏脱冷走到楼梯脚下。楼梯间有扇直达花园的板门，嵌着长玻璃，装着铁栅。西尔维正从厨房出来，大学生当着她的面说：

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“伏脱冷先生，我不是侯爵，也不是什么拉斯蒂涅喇嘛。”

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“他们要打架了。”米旭诺小姐不关痛痒地说。

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“打架！”波阿莱跟着说。

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“噢，不会的。”伏盖太太摩挲着她的一堆洋钱回答。

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“他们到菩提树下去了，”维多莉小姐叫了声，站起来向窗外张望，“可怜的小伙子没有错啊。”

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古的太太说：“上楼吧，亲爱的孩子，别管闲事。”

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古的太太和维多莉起来走到门口，西尔维迎面拦住了去路，说道：

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“什么事啊？伏脱冷先生对欧也纳先生说：咱们来评个理吧！说完抓着他的胳膊，踏着我们的朝鲜蓟走过去了。”

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这时伏脱冷出现了。——“伏盖妈妈，”他笑道，“不用怕，我要到菩提树下去试试我的手枪。”

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“哎呀！先生，”维多莉合着手说，“干吗你要打死欧也纳先生呢？”

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伏脱冷退后两步，瞧着维多莉。

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“又是一桩公案，”他那种嘲弄的声音把可怜的姑娘羞得满面通红，“这小伙子很可爱是不是？你叫我想起了一个主意。好，让我来成全你们俩的幸福吧，美丽的孩子。”

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古的太太抓起女孩子的胳膊，一边走一边凑在她耳边说：

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“维多莉，你今儿真是莫名其妙。”

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伏盖太太道：“我不愿意人家在我这里打枪，你要惊动邻居，老清早叫警察上门了！”

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“哦！放心，伏盖妈妈，”伏脱冷回答，“你别慌，我们到靶子场去就是了。”说罢他追上拉斯蒂涅，亲热地抓了他的手臂：

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“等会你看我三十五步之外接连五颗子弹打在黑桃A[6]的中心，你不至于泄气吧？我看你有点生气了，那你可要糊里糊涂送命的呢。”

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[6]黑桃为扑克牌的一种花色，A为每种花色中最大的牌。此处是指打枪的靶子。
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“你不敢啦？”欧也纳说。

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“别惹我，”伏脱冷道，“今儿天气不冷，来这儿坐吧，”他指着几只绿漆的凳子，“行，这儿不会有人听见了。我要跟你谈谈。你是一个好小子，我不愿意伤了你。咱家鬼——（吓！该死！）咱家伏脱冷可以赌咒，我真喜欢你。为什么？我会告诉你的。现在只要你知道，我把你认识得清清楚楚，好像你是我生的一般。我可以给你证明。哎，把袋子放在这儿吧。”他指着圆桌说。

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拉斯蒂涅把钱袋放在桌上，他不懂这家伙本来说要打死他，怎么又忽然装作他的保护人。

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“你很想知道我是谁，干过什么事，现在又干些什么。你太好奇了，孩子。哎，不用急。我的话长呢。我倒过霉。你先听着，等会再回答。我过去的身世，倒过霉三个字儿就可以说完了。我是谁？伏脱冷。做些什么？做我爱做的事。完啦。你要知道我的性格吗？只要对我好的或是我觉得投机的人，我对他们和气得很。这种人可以百无禁忌，尽管在我小腿上踢几脚，我也不会说一声哼，当心！可是，小乖乖！那些跟我找麻烦的人，或是我觉得不对劲的，我会凶得像魔鬼。还得告诉你，我把杀人当作——呸这样的玩意儿！”说着他唾了一道口水，“不过我的杀人杀得很得体，倘使非杀不可的话。我是你们所说的艺术家。别小看我，我念过贝凡纽多·彻里尼[7]的《回忆录》，还是念的意大利文的原作！他是一个会作乐的好汉，我跟他学会了模仿天意，所谓天意，就是不分青红皂白把我们乱杀一阵。我也学会了到处爱美。你说，单枪匹马跟所有的人作对，把他们一齐打倒，不是挺美吗？对你们这个乱七八糟的社会组织，我仔细想过。告诉你，孩子，决斗是小娃娃的玩意儿，简直胡闹。两个人中间有一个多余的时候，只有傻瓜才会听凭偶然去决定。决斗吗？就像猜铜板！呃！我一口气在黑桃A的中心打进五颗子弹，一颗钉着一颗，还是在三十五步之外！有了这些小本领，总以为打中个把人是没问题的了。唉！哪知我隔开二十步打一个人竟没有中。对面那浑蛋，一辈子没有拿过手枪，可是你瞧！”他说着解开背心，露出像熊背一样多毛的胸脯，生着一簇教人又恶心又害怕的黄毛，“那乳臭未干的小子竟然把我的毛烧焦了。”他把拉斯蒂涅的手指按在他乳房的一个窟窿上。“那时我还是一个孩子，像你这个年纪，二十一岁。我还相信一些东西，譬如说，相信一个女人的爱情，相信那些弄得你七荤八素的荒唐事儿。我们交起手来，你可能把我打死。假定我躺在地下了，你怎么办？得逃走啰，上瑞士去，白吃爸爸的，而爸爸也没有几文。你现在的情形，让我来点醒你；我的看法高人一等，因为我有生活经验，知道只有两条路好走：不是糊里糊涂地服从，就是反抗。我，还用说吗？我对什么都不服从。照你现在这个派头，你知道你需要什么，一百万家财，而且要快；不然的话，你尽管胡思乱想，一切都是水中捞月，白费！这一百万，我来给你吧。”他停了一下，望着欧也纳。“啊！啊！现在你对伏脱冷老头的神气好一些了。一听我那句话，你就像小姑娘听见人家说了声：晚上见，便理理毛，舐舐嘴唇，有如喝过牛奶的猫咪。这才对啦。来，来，咱们合作吧。先算算你那笔账，小朋友。家乡，咱们有爸爸、妈妈、祖姑母、两个妹妹（一个十八一个十七）、两个兄弟（一个十五一个十岁），这是咱们的花名册。祖姑母管教两个妹妹，神父教两个兄弟拉丁文。家里总是多喝栗子汤，少吃白面包；爸爸非常爱惜他的裤子，妈妈难得添一件冬衣和夏衣，妹妹们能将就便将就了。我什么都知道，我住过南方。要是家里每年给你一千二，田里的收入统共只有三千，那么你们的情形就是这样。咱们有一个厨娘，一个当差，面子总要顾到，爸爸还是男爵呢。至于咱们自己，咱们有野心，有鲍赛昂家撑腰，咱们拼着两条腿走去，心里想发财，袋里空空如也；嘴里吃着伏盖妈妈的起码饭菜，心里爱着圣·日耳曼区的山珍海味；睡的是破床，想的是高堂大厦！我不责备你的欲望。我的小心肝，野心不是个个人有的。你去问问娘儿们，她们追求的是怎么样的男人，还不是野心家？野心家比旁的男子腰粗臂胖，血中铁质更多，心也更热。女人强壮的时候真快乐，真好看，所以在男人中专挑有力气的爱，便是给他压坏也甘心。我一项一项举出你的欲望，好向你提出问题。问题是这样：咱们肚子饿得像狼，牙齿又尖又快，怎么办才能弄到大鱼大肉？第一要吞下《法典》，那可不是好玩的事，也学不到什么；可是这一关非过不可。好，就算过了关，咱们去当律师，预备将来在重罪法庭当一个庭长，把一些英雄好汉，肩膀上刺了T．F．[8]打发出去，好让财主们太太平平地睡觉。这可不是味儿，而且时间很长。先得在巴黎愁眉苦脸地熬两年，对咱们馋涎欲滴的美果只许看，不许碰。老想要而要不到，才磨人呢。倘若你面无血色，性格软绵绵的像条虫，那还不成问题；不幸咱们的血像狮子的一样滚烫，胃口奇好，一天可以胡闹二十次。这样你就受罪啦，受好天爷地狱里最凶的刑罚啦。就算你安分守己，只喝牛奶，作些哀伤的诗；可是熬尽了千辛万苦，憋着一肚子怨气之后，你总得，不管你怎样的胸襟高旷，先要在一个浑蛋手下当代理检察，在什么破落的小城里，政府丢给你一千法郎薪水，好像把残羹冷饭扔给一条肉铺里的狗。你的职司是钉在小偷背后狂吠，替有钱的人辩护，把有心肝的送上断头台。你非这样不可！要没有靠山，你就在外省法院里发霉。到三十岁，你可以当一名年俸一千二的推事，倘若捧住饭碗的话。熬到四十岁，娶一个磨坊主人的女儿，带来六千上下的陪嫁。得啦，谢谢吧。要是有靠山，三十岁上你便是检察官，五千法郎薪水，娶的是市长的女儿。再玩一下卑鄙的政治手段，譬如读选举票，把自由党的玛虞哀念作保王党的维莱（既然押韵，用不着良心不安），你可以在四十岁上升做首席检察官，还能当议员。你要注意，亲爱的孩子，这么做是要咱们昧一下良心，吃二十年苦，无声无臭地受二十年难，咱们的姊妹只能当老姑娘终身。还得奉告一句：首席检察官的缺份，全法国统共只有二十个，候补的有两万，其中尽有些不要脸的，为了升官发财，不惜出卖妻儿子女。如果这一行你觉得倒胃口，那么再来瞧瞧旁的。特·拉斯蒂涅男爵有意当律师吗？噢！好极了！先得熬上十年，每月一千法郎开销，要一套藏书，一间事务所，出去应酬，卑躬屈膝地巴结诉讼代理人，才能招揽案子，到法院去吃灰。要是这一行能够使你出头，那也罢了；可是你去问一问，五十岁左右每年挣五万法郎以上的律师，巴黎有没有五个？吓！与其受这样的委屈，还不如去当海盗。再说，哪儿来的本钱？这都泄气得很。不错，还有一条出路是女人的陪嫁。哦，你愿意结婚吗？那等于把一块石头挂上自己的脖子。何况为了金钱而结婚，咱们的荣誉感，咱们的志气，又放到哪儿去？还不如现在就反抗社会！像一条蛇似的躺在女人前面，舐着丈母的脚，做出叫母猪也害臊的卑鄙事情，呸！这样要能换到幸福，倒还罢了。但这种情形之下娶来的老婆，会教你倒霉得像阴沟盖。跟自己的老婆斗还不如同男人打架。这是人生的三岔口，朋友，你挑吧。你已经挑定了，你去过表亲鲍赛昂家，嗅到了富贵气。你也去过高老头的女儿雷斯多太太家，闻到了巴黎妇女的味道。那天你回来，脸上明明白白写着几个字：往上爬！不顾一切地往上爬。我暗中叫好，心里想这倒是一个配我脾胃的汉子。你要用钱，哪儿去找呢？你抽了姊妹的血。做弟兄的多多少少全骗过姊妹的钱。你家乡多的是栗子，少的是洋钱，天知道怎么弄来的一千五百法郎，往外溜的时候跟大兵出门抢劫一样快，钱完了怎么办？用功吗？用功的结果，你现在明白了，是给波阿莱那等角色老来在伏盖妈妈家租间屋子。跟你情形相仿的四五万青年，此刻都有一个问题要解决：赶快挣一笔财产。你是其中的一个。你想：你们要怎样地拼命，怎样地斗争；势必你吞我，我吞你，像一个瓶里的许多蜘蛛，因为根本没有四五万个好缺份。你知道巴黎的人怎么打天下的？不是靠天才的光芒，就是靠腐蚀的本领。在这个人堆里，不像炮弹一般轰进去，就得像瘟疫一般钻进去。清白老实一无用处。在天才的威力之下，大家会屈服；先是恨他，毁谤他，因为他一口独吞，不肯分肥；可是他要坚持的话，大家便屈服了；总而言之，没法把你埋在土里的时候，就向你磕头。雄才大略是少有的，遍地风行的是腐化堕落。社会上多的是饭桶，而腐蚀便是饭桶的武器，你到处觉得有它的刀尖。有些男人，全部家私不过六千法郎薪水，老婆的衣着花到一万以上。收入只有一千二的小职员也会买田买地。你可以看到一些女人出卖身体，为的要跟贵族院议员的公子，坐了车到隆尚跑马场的中央大道上去奔驰。女儿有了五万法郎进款，可怜的脓包高老头还不得不替女儿还债，那是你亲眼看见的。你试着瞧吧，在巴黎走两三步路要不碰到这一类的鬼玩意才怪。我敢把脑袋跟这一堆生菜打赌，你要碰到什么你中意的女人，不管是谁，不管怎样有钱，美丽，年轻，你马上掉在黄蜂窠里。她们受着法律束缚，什么事都得跟丈夫明争暗斗。为了情人，衣着，孩子，家里的开销，虚荣，所玩的手段，简直说不完，反正不是为了高尚的动机。所以正人君子是大众的公敌。你知道什么叫作正人君子吗？在巴黎，正人君子是不声不响、不愿分赃的人。至于那批可怜的公共奴隶，到处做苦工而没有报酬的，还没有包括在内；我管他们叫作相信上帝的傻瓜。当然这是德行的最高峰，愚不可及的好榜样，同时也是苦海。倘若上帝开个玩笑，在最后审判时缺席一下，那些好人包你都要愁眉苦脸！因此，你要想快快发财，必须现在已经有钱，或者装作有钱。要弄大钱，就该大刀阔斧地干，要不就完事大吉。三百六十行中，倘使有十几个人成功得快，大家便管他们叫作贼。你自己去找结论吧。人生就是这么回事。跟厨房一样腥臭。要捞油水不能怕弄脏手，只消事后洗干净；今日所谓道德，不过是这一点。我这样议论社会是有权利的，因为我认识社会。你以为我责备社会吗？绝对不是。世界一向是这样的。道德家永远改变不了它。人是不完全的，不过他的作假有时多有时少，一般傻子便跟着说风俗淳朴了，或是浇薄了。我并不帮平民骂富翁，上中下三等的人都是一样的人。这些高等野兽，每一百万中间总有十来个狠家伙，高高地坐在一切之上，甚至坐在法律之上，我便是其中之一。你要有种，你就扬着脸一直线往前冲。可是你得跟妒忌、毁谤、庸俗斗争，跟所有的人斗争。拿破仑碰到一个叫作奥勃里的陆军部长，差一点送他往殖民地。[9]你自己忖一忖吧！看你是否能每天早上起来，比隔夜更有勇气。倘然是的话，我可以给你提出一个谁也不会拒绝的计划。喂，你听着。我有个主意在这儿。我想过一种长老生活，在美国南部弄一大块田地，就算十万阿尔邦吧。[10]我要在那边种植，买奴隶，靠了卖牛、卖烟草、卖林木的生意挣他几百万，把日子过得像小皇帝一样；那种随心所欲的生活，蹲在这儿破窑里的人连做梦也做不到的。我是一个大诗人。我的诗不是写下来的，而是在行动和感情上表现的。此刻我有五万法郎，只够买四十名黑人。我需要二十万法郎，因为我要两百个黑人，才能满足我长老生活的瘾。黑人，你懂不懂？那是一些自生自发的孩子，你爱把他们怎办就怎办，决没有一个好奇的检察官来过问。有了这笔黑资本，十年之内可以挣到三四百万。我要成功了，就没有人盘问我出身。我就是四百万先生，合众国公民。那时我才五十岁，不至于发霉，我爱怎么玩儿就怎么玩儿。总而言之，倘若我替你弄到一百万陪嫁，你肯不肯给我二十万？两成佣金，不算太多吧？你可以教小媳妇儿爱你。一朝结了婚，你得表示不安，懊恼，半个月工夫装作闷闷不乐。然后，某一天夜里，先来一番装腔作势，再在两次亲吻之间，对你老婆说出有二十万的债，当然那时要把她叫作心肝宝贝啰！这种戏文天天都有一批最优秀的青年在搬演。一个少女把心给了你，还怕不肯打开钱袋吗？你以为你损失了吗？不。一桩买卖就能把二十万捞回来。凭你的资本，凭你的头脑，挣多大的家财都不成问题。于是乎[11]，你在六个月中间造成了你的幸福，造成了一个小娇娘的幸福，还有伏脱冷老头的幸福，还有你父母姊妹的幸福，他们此刻不是缺少木柴，手指冻得发疼吗？我的提议跟条件，你不用大惊小怪！巴黎六十件美满的婚姻，总有四十七件是这一类的交易。公证人公会曾经强逼某先生……”

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[10]阿尔邦为古量度名，约等于三十至五十一亩，因地域而异。每亩合一百平方米。
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“要我怎么办呢？”拉斯蒂涅急不可待地打断了伏脱冷的话。

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“噢，用不着你多费心的，”伏脱冷回答的时候，那种高兴好比一个渔翁觉得鱼儿上了钩，“你听我说！凡是可怜的、遭难的女子，她的心等于一块极需要爱情的海绵，只消一滴感情，立刻膨胀。追求一个孤独，绝望，贫穷，想不到将来有大家私的姑娘，呃！那简直是拿了一手同花顺子[12]，或是知道了头奖的号码去买奖券，或是得了消息去做公债。你的亲事就像在三合土上打了根基。一朝有几百万家财落在那姑娘头上，她会当作泥土一般扔在你脚下，说道：‘拿吧，我的心肝！拿吧，阿陶夫！阿弗莱！拿吧，欧也纳！’只消阿陶夫、阿弗莱，或者欧也纳有那聪明的头脑肯为她牺牲。所谓牺牲，不过是卖掉一套旧衣服，换几个钱一同上蓝钟饭铺吃一顿香菌包子；晚上再到滑稽剧院看一场戏；或者把表送往当铺，买一条披肩送她。那些爱情的小玩意儿，无须跟你细说；多少女人都喜欢那一套，譬如写情书的时候，在信笺上洒几滴水冒充眼泪等等，我看你似乎完全懂得调情的把戏。你瞧，巴黎仿佛新大陆上的森林，有无数的野蛮民族在活动，什么伊林诺人，许龙人，都在社会上靠打猎过活。你是个追求百万家财的猎人，得用陷阱，用鸟笛，用哨子去猎取。打猎的种类很多：有的猎取陪嫁；有的猎取破产后的清算；[13]有的出卖良心，有的出卖无法抵抗的订户。[14]凡是满载而归的人都被敬重、庆贺，受上流社会招待。说句公平话，巴黎的确是世界上最好客的城市。如果欧洲各大京城高傲的贵族，不许一个声名狼藉的百万富翁跟他们称兄道弟，巴黎自会对他张开臂抱，赴他的宴会，吃他的饭，跟他碰杯，祝贺他的丑事。”

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[14]出卖良心是指受贿赂的选举，出卖订户指报馆老板出让报纸。
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“可是哪儿去找这样一个姑娘呢？”欧也纳问。

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“就在眼前，听你摆布！”

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“维多莉小姐吗？”

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“对啦！”

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“怎么？”

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“她已经爱上你了，你那个特·拉斯蒂涅男爵夫人！”

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“她一个子儿都没有呢。”欧也纳很诧异地说。

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“噢！这个吗？再补上两句，事情就明白了。泰伊番老头在大革命时代暗杀过他的一个朋友；他是跟咱们一派的好汉，思想独往独来。他是银行家，弗莱特烈—泰伊番公司的大股东；他想把全部家产传给独养儿子，把维多莉一脚踢开。咱家我，可不喜欢这种不平事儿。我好似堂吉诃德，专爱锄强扶弱。如果上帝的意志要召回他的儿子，泰伊番自会承认女儿；他好歹总要一个继承人，这又是人类天生的傻脾气；可是他不能再生孩子，我知道。维多莉温柔可爱，很快会把老子哄得回心转意，用感情弄得他团团转，像个德国陀螺似的。你对她的爱情，她感激万分，决不会忘掉，她会嫁给你。我么，我来替天行道，教上帝发愿。我有个生死之交的朋友，洛阿军团[15]的上校，最近调进王家卫队。他听了我的话加入极端派的保王党，他才不是固执成见的糊涂蛋呢。顺便得忠告你一句，好朋友，你不能拿自己的话当真，也不能拿自己的主张当真。有人要收买你的主张，不妨出卖。一个自命为从不改变主张的人，是一个永远走直线的人，相信自己永远正确的大傻瓜。世界上没有原则，只有事故；没有法律，只有时势；高明的人同事故跟时势打成一片，任意支配。倘若真有什么固定的原则跟法律，大家也不能随时更换，像咱们换衬衫一样容易了。一个人用不着比整个民族更智慧。替法国出力最少的倒是受人膜拜的偶像，因为他老走激进的路；其实这等人至多只能放在博物院中跟机器一块儿，挂上一条标签，叫他作拉斐德[16]，至于被每个人丢石子的那位亲王，根本瞧不起人类，所以人家要他发多少誓便发多少誓；他却在维也纳会议中使法国免于瓜分；他替人争了王冠，人家却把污泥丢在他脸上。[17]噢！什么事的底细我都明白；人家的秘密我知道的才多呢！不用多说了。只消有一天能碰到三个人对一条原则的运用意见一致，我就佩服，我马上可以采取一个坚决的主张；可是不知何年何月才有这么一天呢！对同一条法律的解释，法庭上就没有三个推事意见相同。言归正传，说我那个朋友吧。只消我开声口，他会把耶稣基督重新钉上十字架。凭我伏脱冷老头一句话，他会跟那个小子寻事，他——对可怜的妹子连一个子儿都不给，哼！——……然后……”

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[15]滑铁卢一仗以后，拿破仑的一部分军队改编为洛阿军团。
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伏脱冷站起身子，摆着姿势，好似一个剑术教师准备开步的功架：

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“然后，请他回老家！”

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“怕死人了！”欧也纳道，“你是开玩笑吧，伏脱冷先生？”

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“哟！哟！哟！别紧张，”他回答，“别那么孩子气。你要是愿意，尽管去生气，去冒火！说我恶棍、坏蛋、无赖、强盗，都行，只别叫我骗子，也别叫我奸细！来吧，开口吧，把你的连珠炮放出来吧！我原谅你，在你的年纪上那是挺自然的！我就是过来人！不过得仔细想一想。也许有一天你干的事比这个更要不得，你会去拍漂亮女人的马屁，接受她的钱。你已经在这么想了。因为你要不在爱情上预支，你的梦想怎么能成功？亲爱的大学生，德行是不可分割的，是则是，非则非，一点没有含糊。有人说罪过可以补赎，可以用忏悔来抵消！哼，笑话！为要爬到社会上的某一级而去勾引一个女人，离间一家的弟兄，总之为了个人的快活和利益，明里暗里所干的一切卑鄙勾当，你以为合乎信仰、希望、慈悲三大原则吗？一个纨绔子弟引诱未成年的孩子一夜之间丢了一半家产，凭什么只判两个月徒刑？一个可怜的穷鬼在加重刑罚的情节[18]中偷了一千法郎，凭什么就判终身苦役？这是你们的法律。没有一条不荒谬。戴了黄手套说漂亮话的人物，杀人不见血，永远躲在背后；普通的杀人犯却在黑夜里用铁棍撬门进去，那明明是犯了加重刑罚的条款了。我现在向你提议的，跟你将来所要做的，差别只在于见血不见血。你还相信世界上真有什么固定不变的东西！嗳！千万别把人放在眼里，倒应该研究一下法纲上哪儿有漏洞。只要不是彰明较著发的大财，骨子里都是大家遗忘了的罪案，只是案子做得干净罢了。”

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[18]加重刑罚的情节为法律术语，例如手持武器，夜入人家，在刑事上即为加重刑罚的情节。
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“别说了，先生，我不能再听下去，你要教我对自己都怀疑了，这时我只能听感情指导。”

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“随你吧，孩子。我只道你是个硬汉；我再不跟你说什么了。不过，最后交代你一句，”他目不转睛地瞪着大学生，“我的秘密交给你了。”

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“不接受你计划，当然会忘掉的。”

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“说得好，我听了很高兴。不是么，换了别人，就不会这么谨慎体贴了。别忘了我这番心意。等你半个月。要就办，不就算了。”

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眼看伏脱冷挟着手杖，若无其事地走了，拉斯蒂涅不禁想道：“好一个死心眼儿的家伙！特·鲍赛昂太太文文雅雅对我说的，他赤裸裸地说了出来。他拿钢铁般的利爪把我的心撕得粉碎。干吗我要上特·纽沁根太太家去？我刚转好念头，他就猜着了。关于德行，这强盗坯三言两语告诉我的，远过于多少人物多少书本所说的。如果德行不允许妥协，我岂不是偷盗了我的妹妹？”

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他把钱袋往桌上一扔，坐下来胡思乱想。

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“忠于德行，就是做一个伟大的殉道者！喝！个个人相信德行，可是谁是有德行的？民众崇拜自由，可是自由的人民在哪儿？我的青春还像明净无云的蓝天，可是巴望富贵，不就是决定扯谎，屈膝，在地下爬，逢迎吹拍，处处作假吗？不就是甘心情愿听那般扯过谎，屈过膝，在地下爬过的人使唤吗？要加入他们的帮口，先得侍候他们。呸！那不行。我要规规矩矩、清清白白地用功，日以继夜地用功，凭劳力来挣我的财产。这是求富贵最慢的路，但我每天可以问心无愧地上床。白璧无瑕，像百合一样的纯洁，将来回顾一生的时候，岂不挺美？我跟人生，还像一个青年和他的未婚妻一样新鲜。伏脱冷却教我看到婚后十年的情景。该死！我越想越糊涂了。还是什么都不去想，听凭我的感情指导吧。”

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胖子西尔维的声音赶走了欧也纳的幻想，她报告说裁缝来了。他拿了两口钱袋站在裁缝前面，觉得这个场面倒也不讨厌。试过夜礼服，又试一下白天穿的新装，他马上变了一个人。

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他心上想：“还怕比不上特·脱拉伊？还不是一样的绅士气派？”

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“先生，”高老头走进欧也纳的屋子说，“你可是问我特·纽沁根太太上哪些地方应酬吗？”

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“是啊。”

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“下星期一，她要参加特·加里里阿诺元帅的跳舞会。要是你能够去，请你回来告诉我，她们姊妹俩是不是玩得痛快，穿些什么衣衫，总之，你要样样说给我听。”

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“你怎么知道的？”欧也纳让他坐在火炉旁边问他。

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“她的老妈子告诉我的。从丹兰士和公斯当斯[19]那边，我打听出她们的一举一动。”他像一个年轻的情人因为探明了情妇的行踪，对自己的手段非常得意。“你可以看到她们了，你！”他的艳羡与痛苦都天真地表现了出来。

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[19]丹兰士是特·纽沁根太太的女用人，公斯当斯是特·雷斯多太太的女用人。
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“还不知道呢，”欧也纳回答，“我要去见特·鲍赛昂太太，问她能不能把我介绍给元帅夫人。”

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欧也纳想到以后能够穿着新装上子爵夫人家，不由得暗中欢喜。伦理学家所谓人心的深渊，无非指一些自欺欺人的思想，不知不觉只顾自己利益的念头。那些突然的变化，来一套仁义道德的高调，又突然回到老路上去，都是迎合我们求快乐的愿望的。眼看自己穿扮齐整，手套靴子样样合格之后，拉斯蒂涅又忘了敦品励学的决心。青年人陷于不义的时候，不敢对良心的镜子照一照；成年人却不怕正视；人生两个阶段的不同完全在于这一点。

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几天以来，欧也纳和高老头这对邻居成了好朋友。他们心照不宣的友谊，伏脱冷和大学生的不投机，其实都出于同样的心理。将来倘有什么大胆的哲学家，想肯定我们的感情对物质世界的影响，一定能在人与动物的关系中找到不少确实的例子，证明感情并不是抽象的。譬如说，看相的人推测一个人的性格，决不能一望而知，像狗知道一个陌生人对它的爱憎那么快。有些无聊的人想淘汰古老的字眼，可是物以类聚这句成语始终挂在每个人的嘴边。受到人家的爱，我们是感觉到的。感情在无论什么东西上面都能留下痕迹，并且能穿越空间。一封信代表一颗灵魂，等于口语的忠实的回声，所以敏感的人把信当作爱情的至宝。高老头的盲目的感情，已经把他像狗一样的本能发展到出神入化，自然能体会大学生对他的同情、钦佩和好意。可是初期的友谊还没有到推心置腹的阶段。欧也纳以前固然表示要见特·纽沁根太太，却并不想托老人介绍，而仅仅希望高里奥漏出一点儿口风给他利用。高老头也直到欧也纳访问了阿娜斯大齐和特·鲍赛昂太太回来，当众说了那番话，才和欧也纳提起女儿。他说：

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“亲爱的先生，你怎么能以为说出了我的名字，特·雷斯多太太便生你的气呢？两个女儿都很孝顺，我是个幸福的父亲。只是两个女婿对我不好。我不愿意为了跟女婿不和，教两个好孩子伤心；我宁可暗地里看她们。这种偷偷摸摸的快乐，不是那些随时可以看到女儿的父亲所能了解的。我不能那么办，你懂不懂？所以碰到好天气，先问过老妈子女儿是否出门，我上香榭丽舍大道去等。车子来的时候，我的心跳起来；看她们穿扮那么漂亮，我多高兴。她们顺便对我笑一笑，噢！那就像天上照下一道美丽的阳光，把世界镀了金。我待在那儿，她们还要回来呢。是呀，我又看见她们了！呼吸过新鲜空气，脸蛋儿红红的。周围的人说：‘哦！多漂亮的女人！’我听了多开心。那不是我的亲骨血吗？我喜欢替她们拉车的马，我愿意做她们膝上的小狗。她们快乐，我才觉得活得有意思。各有各的爱的方式，我那种爱又不妨碍谁，干吗人家要管我的事？我有我享福的办法。晚上去看女儿出门上跳舞会，难道犯法吗？要是去晚了，知道‘太太已经走了’，那我才伤心死呢！有一晚我等到清早三点，才看到两天没有见面的娜齐。我快活得几乎晕过去！我求你，以后提到我，一定得说我女儿孝顺。她们要送我各式各样的礼物，我把她们拦住了，我说：‘不用破费呀！我要那些礼物干什么？我一样都不缺少。’真的，亲爱的先生，我是什么东西？不过是一个臭皮囊罢了，只是一颗心老跟着女儿。”

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那时欧也纳想出门先上杜伊勒里公园遛遛，然后到了时间去拜访特·鲍赛昂太太。高老头停了一忽又说：“将来你见过了特·纽沁根太太，告诉我你在两个之中更喜欢哪一个。”

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这次的散步是欧也纳一生的关键。有些女人注意到他了：他那么美，那么年轻，那么体面，那么风雅！一看到自己成为路人赞美的目标，立刻忘了被他罗掘一空的姑母姊妹，也忘了良心的指摘。他看见头上飞过那个极像天使的魔鬼，五色翅膀的撒旦，一路撒着红宝石，把黄金的箭射在宫殿前面，把女人们穿得大红大紫，把简陋的王座蒙上恶俗的光彩；他听着那个虚荣的魔鬼唠叨，把虚幻的光彩认为权势的象征。伏脱冷的议论尽管那样的玩世不恭，已经深深地种在他心头，好比处女的记忆中有个媒婆的影子，对她说过：“黄金和爱情，滔滔不尽！”

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懒洋洋地溜达到五点左右，欧也纳去见特·鲍赛昂太太，不料碰了个钉子，青年人无法抵抗的那种钉子。至此为止，他觉得子爵夫人非常客气，非常殷勤；那是贵族教育的表现，不一定有什么真情实意的。他一进门，特·鲍赛昂太太便做了一个不高兴的姿势，冷冷地说：

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“特·拉斯蒂涅先生，我不能招待你，至少在这个时候！我忙得很……”

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对于一个能察言观色的人，而拉斯蒂涅已经很快地学会了这一套，这句话，这个姿势，这副眼光，这种音调，原原本本说明了贵族阶级的特性和习惯；他在丝绒手套下面瞧见了铁掌，在仪态万方之下瞧见了本性和自私，在油漆之下发现了木料。总之他听见了从王上到末等贵族一贯的口气：我是王。以前欧也纳把她的话过于当真，过于相信她的心胸宽大。不幸的人只道恩人与受恩的人是盟友，以为一切伟大的心灵完全平等。殊不知使恩人与受恩的人同心一体的那种慈悲，是跟真正的爱情同样绝无仅有，同样不受了解的天国的热情。两者都是优美的心灵慷慨豪爽的表现。拉斯蒂涅一心想踏进特·加里里阿诺公爵夫人的舞会，也就忍受了表姊的脾气。

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“太太，”他声音颤巍巍地说，“没有要紧事儿，我也不敢来惊动你，你包涵点儿吧，我回头再来。”

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“行，那么你来吃饭吧。”她对刚才的严厉有点不好意思了；因为这位太太的好心的确不下于她的高贵。

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虽则突然之间的转圜使欧也纳很感动，他临走仍不免有番感慨：“爬就是了，什么都得忍受。连心地最好的女子一刹那间也会忘掉友谊的诺言，把你当破靴似的扔掉，旁的女人还用说吗？各人自扫门前雪，想不到竟是如此！不错，她的家不是铺子，我不该有求于她。真得像伏脱冷所说的，像一颗炮弹似的轰进去！”

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不久想到要在子爵夫人家吃饭的快乐，大学生的牢骚也就没有了。就是这样，好似命中注定似的，他生活中一切琐琐碎碎的事故，都逼他如伏脱冷所说的，在战场上为了不被人杀而不得不杀人，为了不受人骗而不得不骗人，把感情与良心统统丢开，戴上假面具，冷酷无情地玩弄人，神不知鬼不觉地去猎取富贵。

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他回到子爵夫人家，发现她满面春风，又是向来的态度了。两人走进饭厅，子爵早已等在那儿。大家知道，王政时代是饮食最奢侈的时代。特·鲍赛昂先生什么都玩腻了，除了讲究吃喝以外，再没有旁的嗜好；他在这方面跟路易十八和台斯加公爵[20]是同道。他饭桌上的奢侈是外表和内容并重的。欧也纳还是第一遭在世代簪缨之家用餐，没有见识过这等场面。舞会结束时的消夜餐在帝政时代非常时行，军人们非饱餐一顿，养足精神，应付不了国内国外的斗争。当时的风气把这种消夜餐取消了。欧也纳过去只参加过舞会。幸亏他态度持重——将来他在这一点上很出名的，而那时已经开始有些气度——并没显得大惊小怪。可是眼见镂刻精工的银器，席面上那些说不尽的讲究，第一次领教到毫无声响的侍应，一个富于想象的人怎么能不羡慕无时无刻不高雅的生活，而不厌弃他早上所想的那种清苦生涯呢！他忽然想到公寓的情形，觉得厌恶之极，发誓正月里非搬家不可：一则换一所干净的屋子，一则躲开伏脱冷，免得精神上受他的威胁。头脑清楚的人真要问，巴黎既有成千成万、有声无声的伤风败俗之事，怎么国家会如此糊涂，把学校放在这个城里，让青年人聚集在一起？怎么美丽的妇女还会受到尊重？怎么兑换商堆在铺面上的黄金不至于从木钟[21]里不翼而飞？再拿青年人很少犯罪的情形来看，那些耐心的饥荒病者拼命压止馋痨的苦功，更令人佩服了！穷苦的大学生跟巴黎的斗争，好好描写下来，便是现代文明最悲壮的题材。

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[20]台斯加公爵生于一七四七；一七七四年为宫中掌膳大臣。路易十八复辟后，仍任原职，以善于烹调著名。相传某次与王共同进膳后以不消化病卒。路易十八闻讯，自诩“胃力比那个可怜的台斯加强多了”。
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特·鲍赛昂太太瞅着欧也纳逗他说话，他却始终不肯在子爵面前开一声口。

96
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“你今晚陪我上意大利剧院去吗？”子爵夫人问她的丈夫。

97
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“能够奉陪在我当然是桩快乐的事，”子爵的回答殷勤之中带点儿俏皮，欧也纳根本没有发觉，“可惜我要到多艺剧院去会朋友。”

98
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“他的情妇啰。”她心里想。

99
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“阿瞿达今晚不来陪你吗？”子爵问。

100
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“不。”她回答的神气不大高兴。

101
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“嗳，你一定要人陪的话，不是有拉斯蒂涅先生在这里吗？”

102
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子爵夫人笑盈盈地望着欧也纳，说道：“对你可不大方便吧？”

103
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“夏多勃里昂先生说过：法国人喜欢冒险，因为冒险之中有光荣。”欧也纳弯了弯身子回答。

104
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过了一会，欧也纳坐在特·鲍赛昂太太旁边，给一辆飞快的轿车送往那个时髦剧院。他走进一个正面的包厢，和子爵夫人同时成为无数手眼镜的目标，子爵夫人的装束美艳无比。欧也纳几乎以为进了神仙世界。再加销魂荡魄之事接踵而至。

105
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子爵夫人问道：“你不是有话跟我说吗？哟！你瞧，特·纽沁根太太就离我们三个包厢。她的姊姊同特·脱拉伊先生在另外一边。”

106
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子爵夫人说着对洛希斐特小姐的包厢瞟了一眼，看见特·阿瞿达先生并没在座，顿时容光焕发。

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“她可爱得很。”欧也纳瞧了瞧特·纽沁根太太。

108
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“她的眼睫毛黄得发白。”

109
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“不错，可是多美丽的细腰身！”

110
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“手很大。”

111
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“噢！眼睛美极了！”

112
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“脸太长。”

113
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“长有长的漂亮。”

114
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“真的吗？那是她运气了。你瞧她手眼镜举起放下的姿势！每个动作都脱不了高里奥气息。”子爵夫人这些话使欧也纳大为诧异。

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特·鲍赛昂太太擎着手眼镜照来照去，似乎并没注意特·纽沁根太太，其实是把每个举动瞧在眼里。剧院里都是漂亮人物。可是特·鲍赛昂太太的年轻、俊俏、风流的表弟，只注意但斐纳·特·纽沁根一个，叫但斐纳看了着实得意。

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“先生，你对她尽瞧下去，要给人家笑话了。这样不顾一切地死钉人是不会成功的。”

117
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“亲爱的表姊，我已经屡次承蒙你照应，倘使你愿意成全我的话，只请你给我一次惠而不费的帮助。我已经入迷了。”

118
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“这么快？”

119
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“是的。”

120
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“就是这一个吗？”

121
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“还有什么旁的地方可以施展我的抱负呢？”他对表姊深深地望了一眼，停了一忽又道，“特·加里里阿诺公爵夫人跟特·斐里夫人很要好。你见到她的时候，请你把我介绍给她，带我去赴她下星期一的跳舞会。我可以在那儿碰到特·纽沁根太太，试试我的本领。”

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“好吧，既然你已经看中她，你的爱情一定顺利。瞧，特·玛赛在特·迦拉蒂沃纳公主的包厢里。特·纽沁根太太在受罪啦，她气死啦。要接近一个女人，尤其银行家的太太，再没比这个更好的机会了。唐打区的妇女都是喜欢报复的。”

123
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“你碰到这情形又怎么办？”

124
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“我么，我就不声不响地受苦。”

125
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这时特·阿瞿达侯爵走进特·鲍赛昂太太的包厢。

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他说：“因为要来看你，我把事情都弄糟啦，我先提一声，免得我白白牺牲。”

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欧也纳觉得子爵夫人脸上的光辉是真爱情的表示，不能同巴黎式的调情打趣、装腔作势混为一谈。他对表姊钦佩之下，不说话了，叹了口气把座位让给阿瞿达，心里想：“一个女人爱到这个地步，真是多高尚，多了不起！这家伙为了一个玩具式的娃娃把她丢了，真叫人想不通。”他像小孩子一样气愤之极，很想在特·鲍赛昂太太脚下打滚，恨不得有魔鬼般的力量把她抢到自己心坎里，像一只鹰在平原上把一头还没断奶的小白山羊抓到窠里去。在这个粉白黛绿的博物院中没有一幅属于他的画，没有一个属于他的情妇，他觉得很委屈。他想：“有一个情妇等于有了王侯的地位，有了权势的标识！”他望着特·纽沁根太太，活像一个受了侮辱的男子瞪着敌人。子爵夫人回头使了个眼色，对他的知情识趣表示不胜感激。台上第一幕刚演完。

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她问阿瞿达：“你和特·纽沁根太太相熟，可以把拉斯蒂涅先生介绍给她吗？”

129
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侯爵对欧也纳说：“哦，她一定很高兴见见你的。”

130
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漂亮的葡萄牙人起身挽着大学生的手臂，一眨眼便到了特·纽沁根太太旁边。

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“男爵夫人，”侯爵说道，“我很荣幸能够给你介绍这位欧也纳·特·拉斯蒂涅骑士，特·鲍赛昂太太的表弟。他对你印象非常深刻，我有心成全他，让他近前来瞻仰瞻仰他的偶像。”

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这些话多少带点打趣和唐突的口吻，可是经过一番巧妙的掩饰，永远不会使一个女人讨厌。特·纽沁根太太微微一笑，把丈夫刚走开而留下的座位让欧也纳坐了。

133
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她说：“我不敢请你留在这儿，一个人有福分跟特·鲍赛昂太太在一起，是不肯走开的。”

134
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“可是，太太，”欧也纳低声回答，“如果我要讨表姊的欢心，恐怕就该留在你身边。”他又提高嗓子：“侯爵来到之前，我们正谈着你，谈着你大方高雅的风度。”

135
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特·阿瞿达先生抽身告辞了。

136
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“真的，先生，你留在我这儿吗？”男爵夫人说，“那我们可以相熟了，家姊和我提过你，真是久仰得很！”

137
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“那么她真会作假，她早已把我挡驾了。”

138
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“怎么呢？”

139
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“太太，我应当把原因告诉你；不过要说出这样一桩秘密，先得求你包涵。我是令尊大人的邻居，当初不知道特·雷斯多太太是他的女儿。我无意中，冒冒失失提了一句，把令姊和令姊夫得罪了。你真想不到，特·朗日公爵夫人和我的表姊，认为这种背弃父亲的行为多么不合体统。我告诉她们经过情形，她们笑坏了。特·鲍赛昂太太把你同令姊做比较，说了你许多好话，说你待高里奥先生十分孝顺。真是，你怎么能不孝顺他呢？他那样地疼你，叫我看了忌妒。今儿早上我和令尊大人谈了你两小时。刚才陪表姊吃饭的时候，我脑子里还装满了令尊的那番话，我对表姊说，我不相信你的美貌能够跟你的好心相比。大概看到我对你这样仰慕，特·鲍赛昂太太才特意带我上这儿来，以她那种惯有的殷勤对我说，我可以有机会碰到你。”

140
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“先生，”银行家太太说，“承你的情，我感激得很。不久我们就能成为老朋友了。”

141
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“你说的友谊固然不是泛泛之交，我可永远不愿意做你的朋友。”

142
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初出茅庐的人这套印版式的话，女人听了总很舒服，唯有冷静的头脑才会觉得这话空洞贫乏。一个青年人的举动、音调、目光，使那些废话变得有声有色。特·纽沁根太太觉得拉斯蒂涅风流潇洒。她像所有的女子一样，没法回答大学生那些单刀直入的话，扯到旁的事情上去了。

143
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“是的，姊姊对可怜的父亲很不好。他却是像上帝一样地疼我们。特·纽沁根先生只许我在白天接待父亲，我没有法儿才让步的。可是我为此难过了多少时候，哭了多少回。除了平时虐待之外，这种霸道也是破坏我们夫妇生活的一个原因。旁人看我是巴黎最幸福的女子，实际却是最痛苦的。我对你说这些话，你一定以为我疯了。可是你认识我父亲，不能算外人了。”

144
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“噢！”欧也纳回答，“像我这样愿意把身心一齐捧给你的人，你永远不会碰到第二个。你不是要求幸福么？”他用那种直扣心弦的声音说。“啊！如果女人的幸福是要有人爱，有人疼；有一个知己可以诉说心中的欲望、梦想、悲哀、喜悦；把自己的心，把可爱的缺点和美妙的优点一齐显露出来，不怕被人拿去利用；那么请相信我，这颗赤诚的心只能在一个年轻的男子身上找到，因为他有无穷的幻想，只消你有一点儿暗示，他便为你赴汤蹈火；他还不知道天高地厚，也不想知道，因为你便是他整个的世界。我啊，请不要笑我幼稚，我刚从偏僻的外省来，不懂世故，只认识一般心灵优美的人；我没有想到什么爱情。承我的表姊瞧得起，把我看作心腹；从她那儿我才体会到热情的宝贵；既然没有一个女人好让我献身，我就像薛侣班[22]一样爱慕所有的女人。可是我刚才进来一看见你，便像触电似的被你吸住了。我想你已经想了好久！可做梦也想不到你会这样的美。特·鲍赛昂太太叫我别尽瞧着你，她可不知道你美丽的红唇，洁白的皮色，温柔的眼睛，叫人没有法子不看。你瞧，我也对你说了许多疯话，可是请你让我说吧。”

145
[22]十八世纪博马舍的喜剧《费加罗的婚礼》中的人物，年少风流，善于钟情。
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女人最喜欢这些絮絮叨叨的甜言蜜语，连最古板的妇女也会听进去，即使她们不应该回答。这么一开场，拉斯蒂涅又放低声音，说了一大堆体己话；特·纽沁根太太的笑容明明在鼓励他。她不时对特·迦拉蒂沃纳公主包厢里的特·玛赛瞟上一眼。拉斯蒂涅陪着特·纽沁根太太，直到她丈夫来找她回去的时候。

146
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“太太，”欧也纳说，“在特·加里里阿诺公爵夫人的舞会之前，我希望能够去拜访你。”

147
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“既然内人请了你，她一定欢迎你的。”特·纽沁根男爵说。一看这个臃肿的亚尔萨斯人的大圆脸，你就知道他老奸巨猾。

148
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特·鲍赛昂太太站起来预备和阿瞿达一同走了。欧也纳一边过去作别，一边想：“事情进行得不错；我对她说‘你能不能爱我？’她并不怎么吃惊。缰绳已经扣好，只要跳上去就行了。”他不知道男爵夫人根本心不在焉，正在等特·玛赛的一封信，一封令人心碎的决裂的信。欧也纳误会了这意思，以为自己得手了，满心欢喜，陪子爵夫人走到戏院外边的廊下，大家都在那儿等车。

149
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欧也纳走后，阿瞿达对子爵夫人笑着说：“你的表弟简直换了一个人。他要冲进银行去了。看他像鳗鱼一般灵活，我相信他会抖起来的。也只有你会教他挑中一个正需要安慰的女人。”

150
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“可是，”特·鲍赛昂太太回答，“先得知道她还爱不爱丢掉她的那一个。”

151
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欧也纳从意大利剧院走回圣·日内维新街，一路打着如意算盘。他刚才发现特·雷斯多太太注意他，不管他在子爵夫人的包厢里，还是在特·纽沁根太太包厢里，他料定从此那位伯爵夫人不会再把他挡驾了。他也预算一定能够讨元帅夫人喜欢，这样他在巴黎高等社会的中心就有了四个大户人家好来往。他已经懂得，虽然还不知道用什么方法，在这个复杂的名利场中，必须抓住一个机钮，才能高高在上地控制机器；而他自问的确有教轮子搁浅的力量。“倘若特·纽沁根太太对我有意，我会教她怎样控制她的丈夫。那家伙是做银钱生意的，可以帮我一下子发一笔大财。”这些念头，他并没想得这样露骨，他还不够老练，不能把局势看清，估计，细细地筹划；他的主意只像轻云一般在天空飘荡，虽没有伏脱冷的计划狠毒，可是放在良心的坩埚内熔化之下，也未必能提出多少纯粹的分子了。一般人就是从这一类的交易开始，终于廉耻荡然，而今日社会上也相习成风，恬不为怪。方正清白，意志坚强，疾恶如仇，认为稍出常规便是罪大恶极的人物，在现代比任何时代都寥落了。过去有两部杰作代表这等清白的性格，一是莫里哀的《阿赛斯德》，一是比较晚近的瓦尔特·司各特的《丁斯父女》。也许性质相反的作品，把一个上流人物，一个野心家如何抹杀良心，走邪路，装了伪君子而达到目的，曲曲折折描写下来，会一样的美，一样的动人心魄。

152
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拉斯蒂涅走到公寓门口，已经对纽沁根太太着了迷，觉得她身段窈窕，像燕子一样轻巧。令人心醉的眼睛，仿佛看得见血管而像丝织品一样细腻的皮肤，迷人的声音，金黄的头发，他都一一回想起来；也许他走路的时候全身的血活动了，使脑海中的形象格外富于诱惑性。他粗手粗脚地敲着高老头的房门，喊：

153
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“喂，邻居，我见过但斐纳太太了。”

154
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“在哪儿？”

155
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“意大利剧院。”

156
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“她玩得怎么样？请进来喔。”老人没穿好衣服就起来开了门，赶紧睡下。

157
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“跟我说呀，她怎么样？”他紧跟着问。

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欧也纳还是第一次走进高老头的屋子。欣赏过女儿的装束，再看到父亲住的丑地方，他不由得做了个出惊的姿势。窗上没有帘子，糊壁纸好几处受了潮气而脱落，卷缩，露出煤烟熏黄的石灰。老头儿躺在破床上，只有一条薄被，压脚的棉花毯是用伏盖太太的旧衣衫缝的。地砖潮湿，全是灰。窗子对面，一口旧红木柜子，带一点儿鼓形，铜拉手是蔓藤和花叶纠结在一处的形状；一个木板面子的洗脸架，放着脸盆和水壶，旁边是全套剃胡子用具。壁角放着几双鞋；床头小几，底下没有门，面上没有云石；壁炉没有生过火的痕迹，旁边摆一张胡桃木方桌，高老头毁掉镀金盘子就是利用桌上的横档。一口破书柜上放着高老头的帽子。这套破烂家具还包括两把椅子，一张草垫陷下去的大靠椅。红白方格的粗布床幔，用一条破布吊在天花板上。便是最穷的掮客住的阁楼，家具也比高老头在伏盖家用的好一些。你看到这间屋子会身上发冷，胸口发闷；像监狱里阴惨惨的牢房。幸而高老头没有留意欧也纳把蜡烛放在床几上时的表情。他翻了个身，把被窝一直盖到下巴颏儿。

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“哎，你说，两姊妹你喜欢哪一个？”

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“我喜欢但斐纳太太，”大学生回答，“因为她对你更孝顺。”

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听了这句充满感情的话，老人从床上伸出胳膊，握着欧也纳的手，很感动地说：

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“多谢多谢，她对你说我什么来着？”

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大学生把男爵夫人的话背了一遍，渲染一番，老头儿好像听着上帝的圣旨。

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“好孩子！是呀，是呀，她很爱我啊。可是别相信她说阿娜斯大齐的话，姊妹俩为了我彼此忌妒，你明白吗？这更加证明她们的孝心。娜齐也很爱我，我知道的。父亲对儿女，就跟上帝对咱们一样。他会钻到孩子们的心底里去，看他们存心怎么样。她们两人心地一样好。噢！要再有两个好女婿，不是太幸福了吗？世界上没有全福的。倘若我住在她们一起，只要听到她们的声音，知道她们在那儿，看到她们走进走出，像从前在我身边一样，那我简直乐死了。她们穿得漂亮吗？”

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“漂亮。可是，高里奥先生，既然你女儿都嫁得这么阔，你怎么还住在这样一个贫民窟里？”

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“嘿，”他装作满不在乎的神气说，“我住得再好有什么相干？这些事情我竟说不上来；我不能接连说两句有头有尾的话。总而言之，一切都在这儿，”他拍了拍心窝，“我么，我的生活都在两个女儿身上。只要她们能玩儿，快快活活，穿得好，住得好；我穿什么衣服，睡什么地方，有什么相干？反正她们暖和了，我就不觉得冷；她们笑了，我就不会心烦；只有她们伤心了我才伤心。你有朝一日做了父亲，听见孩子们嘁嘁喳喳，你心里就会想：‘这是从我身上出来的！’你觉得这些小生命每滴血都是你的血，是你的血的精华——不是么！甚至你觉得跟她们的皮肉连在一块儿，她们走路，你自己也在动作。无论哪儿都有她们的声音在答应我。她们眼神有点儿不快活，我的血就冻了。你终有一天知道，为了她们的快乐而快乐，比你自己快乐更快乐。我不能向你解释这个，只能说心里有那么一股劲，教你浑身舒畅。总之，我一个人过着三个人的生活。我再告诉你一件古怪事儿好不好？我做了父亲，才懂得上帝。他无处不在，既然世界是从他来的。先生，我对女儿便是这样的无处不在。不过我爱我的女儿，还胜过上帝爱人类；因为人不像上帝一样的美，我的女儿却比我美得多。我跟她们永远心贴着的，所以我早就预感到，你今晚会碰到她们。天哪！要是有个男人使我的小但斐纳快活，把真正的爱情给她，那我可以替那个男人擦靴子，跑腿。我从她老妈子那里知道，特·玛赛那小子是条恶狗，我有时真想扭断他的脖子。哼，他竟不知道爱一个无价之宝的女人，夜莺般的声音，生得像天仙一样！只怪她没有眼睛，嫁了个亚尔萨斯死胖子。姊妹俩都要俊俏温柔的后生才配得上；可是她们的丈夫都是她们自己挑的。”

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那时高老头伟大极了。欧也纳从没见过他表现那种慈父的热情。感情有股熏陶的力量；一个人不论如何粗俗，只要表现出一股真实而强烈的情感，就有种特殊的气息，使容貌为之改观，举动有生气，声音有音色。往往最蠢的家伙，在热情鼓动之下，即使不能在言语上，至少能在思想上达到雄辩的境界，他仿佛在光明的领域内活动。那时老人的声音举止，感染力不下于名演员。归根结底，我们优美的感情不就是意志的表现么？

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“告诉你，”欧也纳道，“她大概要跟特·玛赛分手了，你听了高兴吗？那花花公子丢下她去追迦拉蒂沃纳公主。至于我，我今晚已经爱上了但斐纳太太。”

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“哦！”高老头叫着。

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“是呀。她并不讨厌我。咱们谈情谈了一小时，后天星期六我要去看她。”

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“哦！亲爱的先生，倘使她喜欢你，我也要喜欢你呢！你心肠好，不会给她受罪。你要欺骗她，我就割掉你的脑袋。一个女人一生只爱一次，你知道不知道？天！我尽说傻话，欧也纳先生。你在这儿冷得很。哎啊！你跟她谈过话喽，她教你对我说些什么呢？”

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“一句话也没有。”欧也纳心里想，可是他高声回答：“她告诉我，说她很亲热地拥抱你。”

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“再见吧，邻居。希望你睡得好，做好梦。凭你刚才那句话，我就会做好梦了。上帝保佑你万事如意！今晚你简直是我的好天使，我在你身上闻到了女儿的气息。”

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欧也纳睡下时想道：“可怜的老头儿，哪怕铁石心肠也得被他感动呢。他的女儿可一点没有想到他，当他外人一样。”

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自从这次谈话以后，高老头把他的邻居看作一个朋友，一个意想不到的心腹。他们的关系完全建筑在老人的父爱上面；没有这一点，高老头跟谁也不会亲近的。痴情汉的计算从来不会错误。因为欧也纳受到但斐纳的重视，高老头便觉得跟这个女儿更亲近了些，觉得她对自己的确更好一些。并且他已经把这个女儿的痛苦告诉欧也纳，他每天都要祝福一次的但斐纳从来没有得到甜蜜的爱情。照他的说法，欧也纳是他遇到的最可爱的青年，他也似乎预感到，欧也纳能给但斐纳从来未有的快乐。所以老人对邻居的友谊一天天地增加，要不然，我们就无从得知这件故事的终局了。

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第二天，高老头在饭桌上不大自然地瞧着欧也纳的神气，和他说的几句话，平时同石膏像一样而此刻完全改变了的面容，使同住的人大为奇怪。伏脱冷从密谈以后还是初次见到大学生，似乎想猜透他的心思。隔夜睡觉之前，欧也纳曾经把眼前阔大的天地估量一番，此刻记起伏脱冷的计划，自然联想到泰伊番小姐的陪嫁，不由得瞧着维多莉，正如一个极规矩的青年瞧一个有钱的闺女。碰巧两人的眼睛遇在一块。可怜的姑娘当然觉得欧也纳穿了新装挺可爱。双方的目光意义深长，拉斯蒂涅肯定自己已经成为她心目中的对象；少女们不是都有些模糊的欲望，碰到第一个迷人的男子就想求得满足吗？欧也纳听见有个声音在耳边叫：“八十万！八十万！”可是又突然想到隔夜的事，认为自己对纽沁根太太别有用心的热情，确乎是一贴解毒剂，可以压制他不由自主的邪念。

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他说：“昨天意大利剧院演唱洛西尼的《塞维勒的理发师》，我从没听过那么美的音乐。喝！在意大利剧院有个包厢多舒服！”

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高老头听了，马上竖起耳朵，仿佛一条狗看到了主人的动作。

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“你们真开心，”伏盖太太说，“你们男人爱怎么玩儿就怎么玩儿。”

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“你怎么回来的？”伏脱冷问。

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“走回来的。”

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“哼，”伏脱冷说，“要玩就得玩个痛快。我要坐自己的车，上自己的包厢，舒舒服服地回来。要就全套，不就拉倒！这是我的口号。”

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“这才对啦。”伏盖太太凑上一句。

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“你要到特·纽沁根太太家去吧，”欧也纳低声对高里奥说，“她一定很高兴看到你，会向你打听我许多事。我知道她一心希望我的表姊特·鲍赛昂子爵夫人招待她。你不妨告诉她，说我太爱她了，一定使她满足。”

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拉斯蒂涅赶紧上学校，觉得在这所怕人的公寓里耽得越少越好。他差不多闲荡了一整天，头里热烘烘的，像抱着热烈的希望的年轻人一样。他在卢森堡公园内从伏脱冷的议论想开去，想到社会和人生，忽然碰到他的朋友皮安训。

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“你干吗一本正经地板着脸？”医学生说着，抓着他的胳膊往卢森堡宫前面走去。

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“脑子里尽想些坏念头，苦闷得很。”

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“什么坏念头？那也可以治啊。”

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“怎么治？”

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“只要屈服就行了。”

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“你不知道怎么回事，只管打哈哈。你念过卢梭没有？”

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“念过。”

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“他著作里有一段，说倘使身在巴黎，能够单凭一念之力，在中国杀掉一个年老的满大人[23]，因此发财；读者打算怎么办？你可记得？”

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[23]十八十九世纪的法国人通常把中国的大官称为“满大人”，因为那时是满清皇朝。
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“记得。”

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“那么你怎么办？”

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“噢！满大人我已经杀了好几打了。”

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“说正经话，如果真有这样的事，只消你点点头就行，你干不干？”

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“那满大人是不是老得很了？呃，老也罢，少也罢，痨病也罢，健康也罢，我吗，吓！我不干。”

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“你是个好人，皮安训。不过要是你爱上一个女人，爱得你肯把灵魂翻身，而你非得有钱，有很多的钱，供给她衣着、车马，满足她一切想入非非的欲望，那你怎么办？”

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“嗳，你拿走了我的理性，还要我用理性来思想！”

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“皮安训，我疯了，你把我治一治吧。我有两个妹子，又美又纯洁的天使，我要她们幸福。从今起五年之间，哪儿去弄二十万法郎给她们做陪嫁？你瞧，人生有些关口非大手大脚赌一下不可，不能为了混口苦饭吃而蹉跎了幸福。”

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“每个人踏进社会的时候都遇到这种问题。而你想快刀斩乱麻，马上成功。朋友，要这样干，除非有亚历山大那样的雄才大略，要不然你会坐牢。我么，我情愿将来在外省过平凡的生活，老老实实接替父亲的位置。在最小的小圈子里，跟在最大的大环境里，感情同样可以得到满足。拿破仑吃不了两顿晚饭，他的情妇也不能比加波桑医院的实习医生多几个。咱们的幸福，朋友，离不了咱们的肉体；幸福的代价每年一百万也罢，两千法郎也罢，实际的感觉总是那么回事。所以我不想要那个中国人的性命。”

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“谢谢你，皮安训，我听了你的话怪舒服。咱们永远是好朋友。”

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“喂，”医学生说，“我刚才在植物园上完居维哀[24]的课出来，看见米旭诺和波阿莱坐在一张凳上，同一个男人谈话。去年国会附近闹事的时候，我见过那家伙，很像一个暗探，冒充靠利息过活的布尔乔亚。你把米旭诺和波阿莱研究一下吧，以后我再告诉你为什么。再见，我要去上四点钟的课了。”

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[24]居维哀（1769—1832），著名博物学者。从十八世纪末期起，巴黎的“植物园”亦称“博物馆”，设有生物、化学、植物学等等的自然科学讲座及实验室。
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欧也纳回到公寓，高老头正等着他。

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“你瞧，”那老人说，“她有信给你。你看她那一笔字多好！”

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欧也纳拆开信来。

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“先生，家严说你喜欢意大利音乐，如果你肯赏光驾临我的包厢，我将非常欣幸。星期六我们可以听到福杜和班莱葛里尼[25]，相信你不会拒绝的。特·纽沁根先生和我，一致请你到舍间来用便饭。倘蒙俯允，他将大为高兴，因为他可以摆脱丈夫的苦役，不必再陪我上戏院了。无须赐复，但候光临，并请接受我的敬意。D.N.”

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[25]前者为女高音，后者为男低音，都是当时有名的歌唱家。
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欧也纳念完了信，老人说：“给我瞧瞧。”他嗅了嗅信纸又道，“你一定去的，是不是？嗯，好香！那是她手指碰过的啊！”

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欧也纳私下想：“照理女人不会这样进攻男人的。她大概想利用我来挽回特·玛赛，心中有了怨恨才会做出这种事来。”

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“喂，你想什么呀？”高老头问。

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欧也纳不知道某些女子的虚荣简直像发狂一样，为了踏进圣·日耳曼区阀阅世家的大门，一个银行家的太太做什么牺牲都肯。那时的风气，能出入圣·日耳曼区贵族社会的妇女，被认为高人一等。大家把那个社会的人叫作小王宫的太太们，领袖群伦的便是特·鲍赛昂太太、特·朗日公爵夫人、特·莫弗利纽斯公爵夫人。唐打区的妇女想挤进那个群星照耀的高等社会的狂热，只有拉斯蒂涅一个人不曾得知。但他对但斐纳所存的戒心，对他不无好处，因为他能保持冷静，能够向人家提出条件而不至于接受人家的条件。

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“噢！是的，我一定去。”欧也纳回答高老头。

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因此他是存着好奇心去看纽沁根太太，要是那女的瞧他不起，他反而要为了热情冲动而去了。虽然如此，他还是心焦得很，巴不得明天出发的时间快点儿来到。青年人初次弄手段也许和初恋一样甜蜜。胜券可操的把握使人喜悦不尽，这种喜悦男人并不承认，可是的确造成某些妇女的魅力。容易成功和难于成功同样能刺激人的欲望。两者都是引起或者培养男子的热情的。爱情世界也就是分成这两大阵地。也许这个分野是气质促成的，因为气质支配着人与人的关系。忧郁的人需要女子若即若离的卖弄风情来提神；而神经质或多血质的人碰到女子抵抗太久了，说不定会掉头不顾。换句话说，哀歌主要是淋巴质的表现，正如颂歌是胆质的表现。[26]

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[26]淋巴质指纤弱萎靡的气质，胆质指抑郁易怒的气质，这是西洋老派医学的一种学说。
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欧也纳一边装扮，一边体味那些小小的乐趣，青年们怕人取笑，一般都不敢提到这种得意，可是虚荣心特别感到满足。他梳头发的时候，想到一个漂亮女子的目光会在他漆黑的头发卷中打转。他做出许多怪模怪样，活像一个更衣去赴跳舞会的小姑娘。他解开上衣，沾沾自喜地瞧着自己的细腰身，心上想：“当然，不如我的还多呢！”公寓中全班人马正围着桌子吃饭，他下楼了，喜洋洋地受到众人喝彩。看见一个人穿扮齐整而大惊小怪，也是包饭公寓的一种风气。有人穿一套新衣，每个人就得开声口。

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“嘚，嘚，嘚，嘚，”皮安训把舌头抵着上颚作响，好似催马快走一般。

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“吓！好一个王孙公子的派头！”伏盖太太道。

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“先生是去会情人吧？”米旭诺小姐表示意见。

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“怪样子！”画家嚷道。

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“候候你太太。”博物院管事说。

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“先生有太太了？”波阿莱问。

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“柜子里的太太，好走水路，包不褪色，二十五法郎起码，四十法郎为止，新式花样，不怕冲洗，上好质地，半丝线，半棉料，半羊毛，包医牙痛，包治王家学会钦定的疑难杂症！对小娃娃尤其好，头痛，充血，食道病，眼病，耳病，特别灵验。”伏脱冷用滑稽的急口令，和江湖卖艺的腔调叫着，“这件妙物要多少钱看一看呀？两个铜子吗？不，完全免费。那是替蒙古大皇帝造的，全欧洲的国王都要瞧一眼的！大家来吧！向前走，买票房在前面，喂，奏乐，勃龙，啦，啦，脱冷！啦，啦，蓬！蓬！喂，吹小笛子的，你把音吹走了，等我来揍你！”

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“天哪！这个人多好玩，”伏盖太太对古的太太说，“有他在一块儿永远不觉得无聊。”

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正在大家说笑打诨的时候，欧也纳发觉泰伊番小姐偷偷瞅了他一眼，咬了咬古的太太的耳朵。

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西尔维道：“车来了。”

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皮安训问：“他上哪儿吃饭呀？”

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“特·纽沁根男爵夫人家里。”

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“高里奥先生的女儿府上。”大学生补上一句。

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大家的目光转向老面条商，老面条商不胜艳羡地瞧着欧也纳。

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拉斯蒂涅到了圣·拉查街。一座轻巧的屋子，十足地道的银行家住宅，单薄的廊柱，毫无气派的回廊，就是巴黎的所谓漂亮。不惜工本的讲究，人造云石的装饰，五彩云石镶嵌的楼梯台。小客厅挂满意大利油画，装饰像咖啡馆。男爵夫人愁容满面而勉强掩饰的神气不是假装的，欧也纳看了大为关心。他自以为一到就能叫一个女人快乐，不料她竟是愁眉不展。这番失望刺激了他的自尊心。他把她心事重重的神色打趣了一番，说道：

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“太太，我没有资格要你信任我。要是我打搅你，请你老实说。”

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“哦！你别走。你一走就剩我一个人在家了。纽沁根在外边应酬，我不愿意孤零零地待在这儿。我闷得慌，需要散散心才好。”

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“有什么事呢？”

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她道：“绝对不能告诉你。”

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“我就想知道，就想参加你的秘密。”

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“或许……”她马上改口道，“噢，不行。夫妇之间的争吵应当深深地埋在心里。前天我不是跟你提过吗？我一点不快活。黄金的枷锁是最重的。”

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一个女人在一个青年面前说她苦恼，而如果这青年聪明伶俐，服装齐整，袋里有着一千五百法郎闲钱的话，他就会像欧也纳一般想法而得意扬扬了。

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欧也纳回答：“你又美又年轻，又有钱又有爱情，还要什么呢？”

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“我的事不用提了。”她沉着脸摇摇头，“等会我们一块儿吃饭，就是我们两个。吃过饭去听最美的音乐。”她站起身子，抖了抖白开司棉的衣衫，绣着富丽的波斯图案，问：“你觉得我怎么样？”

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“可爱极了，我要你整个儿属于我呢。”

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“那你倒霉了，”她苦笑道，“这儿你一点看不出苦难；可是尽管有这样的外表，我苦闷到极点，整夜睡不着觉，我要变得难看了。”

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大学生道：“哦！不会的。可是我很想知道，究竟是什么痛苦连至诚的爱情都消除不了？”

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她说：“告诉你，你就要躲开了。你喜欢我，不过是男人对女人表面上的殷勤；真爱我的话，你会马上痛苦得要死。所以我不应该说出来。咱们谈旁的事吧。来，瞧瞧我的屋子。”

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“不，还是留在这儿。”欧也纳说着，挨着特·纽沁根太太坐在壁炉前面一张双人椅里，大胆抓起她的手来。

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她让他拿着，还用力压他的手，表示她心中骚动得厉害。

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“听我说，”拉斯蒂涅道，“你要有什么伤心事儿，就得告诉我。我要向你证明，我是为爱你而爱你的。你得把痛苦对我说，让我替你出力，哪怕要杀几个人都可以；要不我就一去不回地走了。”

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她忽然想起一个无可奈何的念头，拍拍额角，说道：“嗳，好，让我立刻来试你一试。”

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她心上想：“是的，除此以外也没有办法了。”她打铃叫人。

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“先生的车可是套好了？”她问当差。

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“套好了，太太。”

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“我要用。让他用我的车吧。等七点钟再开饭。”

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“喂，来吧。”她招呼欧也纳。

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欧也纳坐在特·纽沁根先生的车里陪着这位太太，觉得像做梦一样。

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她吩咐车夫：“到王宫市场，靠近法兰西剧院。”

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一路上她心绪不宁，也不搭理欧也纳无数的问话。他弄不明白那种沉默的、痴呆的、一味撑拒的态度是什么意思。

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“一眨眼就抓不住她了。”他想。

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车子停下的时候，男爵夫人瞪着大学生的神色使他住了嘴，不敢再胡说八道，因为那时他已经控制不了自己。

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“你是不是很爱我？”她问。

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“是的。”他强作镇静地回答。

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“不论我叫你干什么，你不会看轻我吗？”

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“不会。”

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“你愿意听我指挥吗？”

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“连眼睛都不睁一睁。”

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“你有没有上过赌场？”她的声音发抖了。

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“从来没有。”

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她说：“啊！我放心了。你的运道一定好。我荷包里有一百法郎；一个这么幸福的女子，全部财产就是这一点。你拿着到赌场去，我不知道在哪儿，反正靠近王宫市场。你把这一百法郎去押轮盘赌，要就输光了回来，要就替我赢六千法郎。等你回来，我再把痛苦说给你听。”

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“我现在要去做的事我一点都不懂，可是我一定照办。”他回答的口气很高兴，他暗暗地想：“教我干了这种事，她什么都不会拒绝我了。”

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欧也纳揣着美丽的钱袋，向一个卖旧衣服的商人问了最近的赌场地址，找到九号门牌，奔上楼去。侍者接过他的帽子，他走进屋子问轮盘在哪儿。一般老赌客好不诧异地瞧着他由侍者领到一张长桌前面，又听见他大大方方地问，赌注放在什么地方。

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一个体面的白发老人告诉他：“三十六门随你押，押中了，一赔三十六。”

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欧也纳想到自己的年龄，把一百法郎押在二十一的数字上。他还来不及定一定神，只听见一声惊喊，已经中了。

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那老先生对他说：“把钱收起来吧，这个玩意儿决不能连赢两回的。”

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欧也纳接过老人授给他的耙，把三千六百法郎拨到身边。他始终不明白这赌博的性质，又连本带利押在红上。[27]周围的人看他继续赌下去，很眼痒地望着他。轮盘一转，他又赢了，庄家赔了他三千六百法郎。

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[27]轮盘赌的规则：押在一至三十六的数字上，押中是一赔三十六；押在红、黑、单、双上，押中是一赔一。
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老先生咬着他的耳朵说：“你有了七千二百法郎了。你要是相信我，你赶快走。今儿红已经出了八次。倘使你肯酬谢我的忠告，希望你发发善心，救济我一下。我是拿破仑的旧部，当过州长，现在潦倒了。”

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拉斯蒂涅糊里糊涂让白发老头拿了两百法郎，自己揣着七千法郎下楼。他对这个玩意儿还是一窍不通，只奇怪自己的好运道。

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他等车门关上，把七千法郎捧给特·纽沁根太太，说道：“哎哟！你现在又要带我上哪儿啦？”

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但斐纳发疯似的搂着他，拥抱他，兴奋得不得了，可不是爱情的表现。

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“你救了我！”她说，快乐的眼泪簌落落地淌了一脸，“让我统统告诉你吧，朋友。你会和我做朋友的是不是？你看我有钱，阔绰，什么都不缺，至少在表面上。唉！你怎知道纽沁根连一个子儿都不让我支配！他只管家里的开销，我的车子和包厢。可是他给的衣着费是不够的，他有心逼得我一个钱都没有。我太高傲了，不愿意央求他。要他的钱，就得依他的条件；要是接受那些条件，我简直算不得人了。我自己有七十万财产，怎么会让他剥削到这步田地？为了高傲，为了气愤。刚结婚的时候，我们那么年轻那么天真！向丈夫讨钱的话，说出来仿佛要撕破嘴巴；我始终不敢出口，只能花着我的积蓄和可怜的父亲给我的钱；后来我只能借债。结婚对我是最可怕的骗局，我没法跟你说；只消告诉你一句：要不是我和纽沁根各有各的屋子，我竟会跳楼。为了首饰，为了满足我的欲望所欠的债，（可怜的父亲把我们宠惯了，一向要什么有什么，）要对丈夫说出来的时候，我真是受难，可是我终于迸足勇气说了。我不是有自己的一份财产吗？纽沁根却大生其气，说我要使他倾家荡产了，一大串的混账话，我听了恨不得钻入地下。当然，他得了我的陪嫁，临了不能不替我还债；可是从此以后把我的零用限了一个数目，我为了求个太平也就答应了。从那时起，我满足了那个男人的虚荣心，你知道我说的是谁。即使我被他骗了，我还得说句公道话，他的性格是高尚的。可是他终于狠心地把我丢了！男人给过一个遭难的女子大把的金钱，永远不应该抛弃她！应当永远爱她！你只有二十一岁，高尚，纯洁，你或许要问：一个女人怎么能接受一个男人的钱呢？唉，天哪！同一个使我们幸福的人有难同当，有福同享，不是挺自然的吗？把自己整个地给了人，还会顾虑这整个中间的一小部分吗？只有感情消灭之后，金钱才成为问题。两人不是海誓山盟，生死不渝的吗？自以为有人疼爱的时候，谁想到有分手的一天？既然你们发誓说你们的爱是永久的，干吗再在金钱上分得那么清？你不知道我今天怎样的难受，纽沁根斩钉截铁地拒绝给我六千法郎，可是他按月就得送这样一笔数目给他的情妇，一个歌剧院的歌女。我想自杀，转过最疯狂的念头。有时我竟羡慕一个女用人，羡慕我的老妈子。找父亲去吗？发疯！阿娜斯大齐和我已经把他榨干了；可怜的父亲，只要他能值六千法郎，他把自己出卖都愿意。现在我只能使他干急一阵。想不到你救了我，救了我的面子，救了我的性命。那时，我痛苦得糊里糊涂了。唉，先生，我不能不对你做这番解释，我简直疯了，才会教你去做那样的事。刚才你走了以后，我真想走下车子逃……逃哪儿去？我不知道。巴黎的妇女半数就是过的这种生活：表面上穷奢极侈，暗里心事担得要死。我认得一般可怜虫比我更苦。有的不得不叫铺子开花账，有的不得不偷盗丈夫；有些丈夫以为两千法郎的开司棉只值五百，有的以为五百法郎的开司棉值到两千。还有一般可怜的妇女教儿女挨饿，好搜括些零钱做件衣衫。我可从没干过这些下流的骗局。这次是我最后一次的苦难了。有些女人为了控制丈夫，不惜把自己卖给丈夫，我至少是自由的！我很可以教纽沁根在我身上堆满黄金，可是我宁愿伏在一个我敬重的男人怀里痛哭。啊！今晚上特·玛赛再不能把我看作他出钱厮养的女人了。”

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她双手捧着脸，不让欧也纳看见她哭。他却拿掉她的手，细细瞧着她，觉得她庄严极了。

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她说：“把金钱和爱情混在一块儿，不是丑恶极了吗？你不会爱我的了。”

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使女人显得多么伟大的好心，现在的社会组织逼她们犯的过失，两者交错之下，使欧也纳心都乱了。他一边用好话安慰她，一边暗暗赞叹这个美丽的女子，她的痛苦的呼号竟会那么天真那么冒失。

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她说：“你将来不会拿这个来要挟我吧？你得答应我。”

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“嗳，太太，我不是这等人。”

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她又感激又温柔地拿他的手放在心口：“你使我恢复了自由、快乐。过去我老受着威胁。从此我要生活朴素，不乱花钱了。你一定喜欢我这么办是不是？这一部分你留着，”她自己只拿六张钞票，“我还欠你三千法郎，因为我觉得要跟你平分才对。”

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欧也纳像小姑娘一样再三推辞。男爵夫人说：“你要不肯做我的同党，我就把你当作敌人。”他只得收下，说道：“好，那么我留着以防不测吧。”

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“噢！我就怕听这句话，”她脸色发白地说，“你要瞧得起我，千万别再上赌场。我的天！由我来教坏你！那我要难受死哩。”

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他们回到家里。苦难与奢华的对比，大学生看了头脑昏昏沉沉，伏脱冷那些可怕的话又在耳朵里响起来了。

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男爵夫人走进卧室，指着壁炉旁边一张长靠椅说：“你坐一会儿，我要写一封极难措辞的信。你替我出点儿主意吧。”

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“干脆不用写。把钞票装入信封，写上地址，派你老妈子送去就行了。”

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“哦！你真是一个宝贝。这便叫作有教养！这是十足地道的鲍赛昂作风。”她笑着说。

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“她多可爱！”越来越着迷的欧也纳想。他瞧了瞧卧房，奢侈的排场活像一个有钱的交际花的屋子。

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“你喜欢这屋子吗？”她一边打铃一边问。

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“丹兰士，把这封信当面交给特·玛赛先生。他要不在家，原封带回。”

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丹兰士临走把大学生俏皮地瞅了一眼。晚饭开出了，拉斯蒂涅让特·纽沁根太太挽着手臂带到一间精致的饭厅，在表姊家瞻仰过的讲究的饮食，在这儿又见识了一次。

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“逢着意大利剧院演唱的日子，你就来吃饭，陪我上剧院。”

295
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“这种甜蜜的生活要能长久下去，真是太美了；可怜我是一个清寒的学生，还得挣一份家业咧。”

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“你一定成功的，”她笑道，“你瞧，一切都有办法；我就想不到自己会这样快活。”

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女人的天性喜欢用可能来证明不可能，用预感来取消事实。特·纽沁根太太和拉斯蒂涅走进意大利剧院包厢的时候，她心满意足，容光焕发，使每个人看了都能造些小小的谣言，非但女人没法防卫，而且会教人相信那些凭空捏造的放荡生活确有其事。直要你认识巴黎之后，才知道大家说的并不是事实，而事实是大家不说的。欧也纳握着男爵夫人的手，两人用握手的松紧代替谈话，交换他们听了音乐以后的感觉。这是他们俩销魂荡魄的一晚。他们一同离开剧院，特·纽沁根太太把欧也纳送到新桥，一路在车中挣扎，不肯把她在王宫市场那么热烈的亲吻再给他一个。欧也纳埋怨她前后矛盾，她回答说：

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“刚才是感激那个意想不到的恩惠，现在却是一种许愿了。”

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“而你就不肯许一个愿，没良心的！”

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他恼了。于是她伸出手来，不耐烦的姿势使情人愈加动心；而他捧了手亲吻时不大乐意的神气，她也看了很得意。她说：

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“星期一跳舞会上见！”

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欧也纳踏着月光回去，开始一本正经地思索。他又喜又恼：喜的是这桩奇遇大概会给他钓上一个巴黎最漂亮最风流的女子，正好是他心目中的对象；恼的是他的发财计划完全给推翻了。他前天迷迷糊糊想的主意，此刻才觉得自己真有这么个念头。一个人要失败之后，方始发觉他欲望的强烈。欧也纳越享受巴黎生活，越不肯自甘贫贱。他把袋里一千法郎的钞票捻来捻去，找出无数自欺欺人的理由想据为己有。终于他到了圣·日内维新街，走完楼梯，看见有灯光。高老头虚掩着房门，点着蜡烛，使大学生不致忘记跟他谈谈他的女儿。欧也纳毫无隐瞒地全说了。

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高老头妒忌到极点，说道：“嗳，她们以为我完了，我可还有一千三百法郎利息呢！可怜的孩子，怎么不到我这儿来！我可以卖掉存款，在本钱上拿一笔款子出来，余下的钱改作终身年金。干吗你不来告诉我她为难呢，我的邻居？你怎么能有那种心肠，拿她的区区一百法郎到赌台上去冒险？这简直撕破了我的心！唉，所谓女婿就是这种东西！嘿，要给我抓住了，我一定把他们勒死。天！她竟哭了吗？”

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“就伏在我背心上哭的。”欧也纳回答。

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“噢！把背心给我。怎么！你的背心上有我的女儿，有我心疼的但斐纳的眼泪！她小时候从来不哭的。噢！我给你买件新的吧，这一件你别穿了，给我吧。婚书上规定，她可以自由支配她的财产。我要去找诉讼代理人但尔维，明天就去。我一定要把她的财产划出来另外存放。我是懂法律的，我还能像老虎一样张牙舞爪呢。”

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“喂，老丈，这是她分给我的一千法郎。你放在背心袋里，替她留着吧。”

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高里奥瞪着欧也纳，伸出手来，一颗眼泪掉在欧也纳手上。

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“你将来一定成功，”老人说，“你知道，上帝是赏罚分明的。我明白什么叫作诚实不欺；我敢说像你这样的人很少很少。那么你也愿意做我亲爱的孩子喽？好吧，去睡吧。你还没有做父亲，不会睡不着觉。唉，她哭了，而我，为了不肯教她们落一滴眼泪，连圣父、圣子、圣灵都会一齐出卖的人，正当她痛苦的时候，我竟若无其事在这儿吃饭，像傻瓜一样！”

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欧也纳一边上床一边想：“我相信我一生都可以做个正人君子。凭良心干，的确是桩快乐的事。”

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也许只有信仰上帝的人才会暗中行善，而欧也纳是信仰上帝的。

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Towards the end of the first week in December Rastignac received two letters——one from his mother, and one from his eldest sister. His heart beat fast, half with happiness, half with fear, at the sight of the familiar handwriting. Those two little scraps of paper contained life or death for his hopes. But while he felt a shiver of dread as he remembered their dire poverty at home, he knew their love for him so well that he could not help fearing that he was draining their very life-blood. His mother’s letter ran as follows:

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MY DEAR CHILD. I am sending you the money that you asked for. Make a good use of it. Even to save your life I could not raise so large a sum a second time without your father’s knowledge, and there would be trouble about it. We should be obliged to mortgage the land. It is impossible to judge of the merits of schemes of which I am ignorant; but what sort of schemes can they be, that you should fear to tell me about them? Volumes of explanation would not have been needed; we mothers can understand at a word, and that word would have spared me the anguish of uncertainty. I do not know how to hide the painful impression that your letter has made upon me, my dear son. What can you have felt when you were moved to send this chill of dread through my heart? It must have been very painful to you to write the letter that gave me so much pain as I read it. To what courses are you committed? You are going to appear to be something that you are not, and your whole life and success depends upon this? You are about to see a society into which you cannot enter without rushing into expense that you cannot afford, without losing precious time that is needed for your studies? Ah! my dear Eugène, believe your mother, crooked ways cannot lead to great ends. Patience and endurance are the two qualities most needed in your position. I am not scolding you; I do not want any tinge of bitterness to spoil our offering. I am only talking like a mother whose trust in you is as great as her foresight for you. You know the steps that you must take, and I, for my part, know your purity of heart, and how good your intentions are; so I can say to you without a doubt: "Go forward, beloved!" If I tremble, it is because I am a mother, but my prayers and blessings will be with you at every step. Be very careful, dear boy. You must have a man’s prudence, for it lies with you to shape the destinies of five others who are dear to you, and must look to you. Yes, our fortunes depend upon you, and your success is ours. We all pray to God to be with you in all that you do. Your aunt Marcillac has been most generous beyond words in this matter; she saw at once how it was, even down to your gloves. "But I have a weakness for the eldest!" she said gaily. You must love your aunt very much, dear Eugène. I shall wait till you have succeeded before telling you all that she has done for you, or her money would burn your fingers. You, who are young, do not know what it is to part with something that is a piece of your past! But what would we not sacrifice for your sakes? Your aunt says that I am to send you a kiss on the forehead from her, and that kiss is to bring you luck again and again, she says. She would have written you herself, the dear kind-hearted woman, but she is troubled with the gout in her fingers just now. Your father is very well. The vintage of 1819 has turned out better than we expected. good-bye, dear boy; I will say nothing about your sisters, because Laure is writing to you, and I must let her have the pleasure of giving you all the home news. Heaven send that you may succeed! Oh! yes, dear Eugène, you must succeed. I have come, through you, to a knowledge of a pain so sharp that I do not think I could endure it a second time. I have come to know what it is to be poor, and to long for money for my children’s sake. There, good-bye! Do not leave us for long without news of you; and here, at the last, receive a kiss from your mother.

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By the time Eugène had finished the letter he was in tears. He thought of Old Goriot crushing his silver keepsake into a shapeless mass before he sold it to meet his daughter’s bill of exchange.

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Your mother has broken up her jewels for you, he said to himself; "your aunt shed tears over those relics of hers before she sold them for your sake. What right have you to heap execrations on Anastasie? You have followed her example; you have selfishly sacrificed others to your own future, and she sacrifices her father to her lover; and of you two, which is the worse?"

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He was ready to renounce his attempts; he could not bear to take that money. The fires of remorse burned in his heart, and gave him intolerable pain, the generous secret remorse which men seldom take into account when they sit in judgment upon their fellow-men; but perhaps the angels in heaven, beholding it, pardon the criminal whom our justice condemns. Rastignac opened his sister’s letter; its simplicity and kindness revived his heart.

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Your letter came just at the right time, dear brother. Agathe and I had thought of so many different ways of spending our money that we did not know what to buy with it; and now you have come in, and, like the servant who upset all the watches that belonged to the King of Spain, you have restored harmony; for, really and truly, we did not know which of all the things we wanted we wanted most, and we were always quarreling about it, never thinking, dear Eugène, of a way of spending our money which would satisfy us completely. Agathe jumped for joy. Indeed, we have been like two mad things all day, "to such a prodigious degree" (as aunt would say), that mother said, with her severe expression, "Whatever can be the matter with you, mesdemoiselles?" I think if we had been scolded a little, we should have been still better pleased. A woman ought to be very glad to suffer for one she loves! I, however, in my inmost soul, was doleful and cross in the midst of all my joy. I shall make a bad wife, I am afraid, I am too fond of spending. I had bought two sashes and a nice little stiletto for piercing eyelet-holes in my stays, trifles that I really did not want, so that I have less than that slow-coach Agathe, who is so economical, and hoards her money like a magpie. She had two hundred francs! And I have only one hundred and fifty! I am nicely punished! I could throw my sash down the well; it will be painful to me to wear it now. Poor dear, I have robbed you. And Agathe was so nice about it. She said, ‘Let us send the three hundred and fifty francs in our two names!’ But I could not help telling you everything just as it happened.

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Do you know how we managed to keep your commandments? We took our glittering hoard, we went out for a walk, and when once fairly on the highway we ran all the way to Ruffec, where we handed over the coin, without more ado, to M. Grimbert of the Royal. Mail Coaches. We came back again like swallows on the wing. "Don’t you think that happiness has made us lighter?’ Agathe said. We said all sorts of things, which I shall not tell you, Monsieur le Parisien, because they were all about you. Oh, we love you dearly, dear brother; it was all summed up in those few words. As for keeping the secret, little masqueraders like us are capable of anything (according to our aunt), even of holding our tongues. Our mother has been on a mysterious journey to Angoulême, and the aunt went with her, not without solemn councils, from which we were shut out, and M. le Baron likewise. They are silent as to the weighty political considerations that prompted their mission, and conjectures are rife in the State of Rastignac. The Infantas are embroidering a muslin robe with open-work sprigs for her Majesty the Queen; the work progresses in the most profound secrecy. There be but two more breadths to finish. A decree has gone forth that no wall shall be built on the side of Verteuil, but that a hedge shall be planted instead thereof. Our subjects may sustain some disappointment of fruit and espaliers, but strangers will enjoy a fair prospect. Should the heir-presumptive lack pocket-handkerchiefs, be it known unto him that the dowager Lady of Marcillac, exploring the recesses of her treasures and boxes (known respectively as Pompeii and Herculaneum), having brought to light a fair piece of cambric whereof she wotted not, the Princesses Agathe and Laure place at their brother’s disposal their thread, their needles, and hands somewhat of the reddest. The two young Princes, Don Henri and Don Gabriel, retain their fatal habits of stuffing themselves with grape-jelly, of teasing their sisters, of not learning anything, of taking their pleasure by going a-birdnesting, and of cutting switches for themselves from the osier-beds, maugre the laws of the realm. Moreover, they list not to learn aught, wherefore the Papal Nuncio (called of the commonalty, M. le Curé) threateneth them with excommunication, since that they neglect the sacred canons of grammatical construction for the construction of other canon, deadly engines made of the stems of elder.

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Farewell, dear brother, never did letter carry so many wishes for your success, so much love fully satisfied. You will have a great deal to tell us when you come home! You will tell me everything, won’t you? I am the oldest. From something the aunt let fall, we think you must have had some success.

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Something was said of a lady, but nothing more was said...

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Of course not, in our family! Oh, by the by, Eugène, would you rather that we made that piece of cambric into shirts for you instead of pocket-handkerchiefs? If you want some really nice shirts at once, we ought to lose no time in beginning upon them; and if the fashion is different now in Paris, send us one for a pattern; we want more particularly to know about the cuffs. Good-bye! Good-bye! Take my kiss on the left side of your forehead, on the temple that belongs to me, and to no one else in the world. I am leaving the other side of the sheet for Agathe, who has solemnly promised not to read a word that I have written; but, all the same, I mean to sit by her while she writes, so as to be quite sure that she keeps her word. Your loving sister,

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LAURE DE RASTIGNAC.

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Yes! said Eugène to himself. "Yes! Success at all costs now! Riches could not repay such devotion as this. I wish I could give them every sort of happiness! Fifteen hundred and fifty francs," he went on after a pause. "Every shot must go to the mark! Laure is right. Trust a woman! I have only calico shirts. Where someone else’s welfare is concerned, a young girl becomes as ingenious as a thief. Guileless where she herself is in question, and full of foresight for me—she is like a heavenly angel forgiving the strange incomprehensible sins of earth."

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The world lay before him. His tailor had been summoned and sounded, and had finally surrendered. When Rastignac met M. de Trailles, he had seen at once how great a part the tailor plays in a young man’s career; a tailor is either a deadly enemy or a staunch friend, with an invoice for a bond of friendship; between these two extremes there is, alack! no middle term. In this representative of his craft Eugène discovered a man who understood that his was a sort of paternal function for young men at their entrance into life, who regarded himself as a stepping-stone between a young man’s present and future. And Rastignac in gratitude made the man’s fortune by an epigram of a kind in which he excelled at a later period of his life.

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I have twice known a pair of trousers turned out by him make a match of twenty thousand livres a year!

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Fifteen hundred francs, and as many suits of clothes as he chose to order! At that moment the poor child of the South felt no more doubts of any kind. The young man went down to breakfast with the indefinable air which the consciousness of the possession of money gives to youth. No sooner are the coins slipped into a student’s pocket than his wealth, in imagination at least, is piled into a fantastic column, which affords him a moral support. He begins to hold up his head as he walks; he is conscious that he has a means of bringing his powers to bear on a given point; he looks you straight in the face; his gestures are quick and decided; only yesterday he was diffident and shy, any one might have pushed him aside; to-morrow, he will take the wall of a prime minister. A miracle has been wrought in him. Nothing is beyond the reach of his ambition, and his ambition soars at random; he is light-hearted, generous, and enthusiastic; in short, the fledgling bird has discovered that he has wings. A poor student snatches at every chance pleasure much as a dog runs all sorts of risks to steal a bone, cracking it and sucking the marrow as he flies from pursuit; but a young man who can rattle a few runaway gold coins in his pocket can take his pleasure deliberately, can taste the whole of the sweets of secure possession; he soars far above earth; he has forgotten what the word poverty means; all Paris is his. Those are days when the whole world shines radiant with light, when everything glows and sparkles before the eyes of youth, days that bring joyous energy that is never brought into harness, days of debts and of painful fears that go hand in hand with every delight. Those who do not know the left bank of the Seine between the Rue Saint-Jacques and the Rue des Saints-Pères know nothing of life.

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Ah! if the women of Paris but knew, said Rastignac, as he devoured Mme. Vauquer’s stewed pears (at five for a penny), "they would come here in search of a lover."

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Just then a porter from the Royal Mails appeared at the door of the room; they had previously heard the bell ring as the wicket opened to admit him. The man asked for M. Eugène de Rastignac, holding out two bags for him to take, and a form of receipt for his signature. Vautrin’s keen glance cut Eugène like a lash.

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Now you will be able to pay for those fencing lessons and go to the shooting gallery, he said.

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Your ship has come in, said Mme. Vauquer, eyeing the bags.

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Mlle. Michonneau did not dare to look at the money, for fear her eyes should betray her cupidity.

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You have a kind mother, said Mme. Couture.

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You have a kind mother, sir, echoed Poiret.

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Yes, mamma has been bled, said Vautrin, "and now you can kick up your heels, go into society, and fish for heiresses, and dance with countesses who have peach blossom in their hair. But take my advice, young man, and keep up your pistol practice."

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Vautrin struck an attitude, as if he were facing an antagonist. Rastignac, meaning to give the porter a tip, felt in his pockets and found nothing. Vautrin flung down a franc piece on the table.

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Your credit is good, he remarked, eyeing the student, and Rastignac was forced to thank him, though, since the sharp encounter of wits at dinner that day, after Eugène came in from calling on Mme. de Beauséant, he had made up his mind that Vautrin was insufferable. For a week, in fact, they had both kept silence in each other’s presence, and watched each other. The student tried in vain to account to himself for this attitude.

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An idea, of course, gains in force by the energy with which it is expressed; it strikes where the brain sends it, by a law as mathematically exact as the law that determines the course of a shell from a mortar. The amount of impression it makes is not to be determined so exactly. Sometimes, in tender souls, the idea works havoc, but there are, no less, natures so robustly protected, that this sort of projectile falls flat and harmless on skulls of triple brass, as cannon-shot against solid masonry; then there are flaccid and spongy-fibred natures into which ideas from without sink like spent bullets into the earthworks of a redoubt. Rastignac’s head was filled with explosive material, ready to ignite at the least touch. He was too quick, too young, not to be readily accessible to ideas; and open to that subtle influence of thought and feeling in others which causes so many strange phenomena that make an impression upon us of which we are all unconscious at the time. Nothing escaped his mental vision; he was lynx-eyed; in him the mental powers of perception, which seem like duplicates of the senses, had the mysterious power of swift projection that astonishes us in intellects of a high order—slingers who are quick to detect the weak spot in any armor.

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In the past month Eugène’s good qualities and defects had rapidly developed with his character. Intercourse with the world and the endeavor to satisfy his growing desires had brought out his defects. But Rastignac came from the south side of the Loire, and had the good qualities of his countrymen. He had the impetuous courage of the South, that rushes to the attack of a difficulty, as well as the southern impatience of delay or suspense. These traits are held to be defects in the North; they made the fortune of Murat, but they likewise cut short his career. The moral would appear to be that when the dash and boldness of the south side of the Loire meets, in a southern temperament, with the guile of the North, the character is complete, and such a man will gain (and keep) the crown of Sweden.

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Rastignac, therefore, could not stand the fire from Vautrin’s batteries for long without discovering whether this was a friend or a foe. He felt as if this strange being was reading his inmost soul, and dissecting his feelings, while Vautrin himself was so close and secretive that he seemed to have something of the profound and unmoved serenity of a sphinx, seeing and hearing all things and saying nothing. Eugène, conscious of that money in his pocket, grew rebellious.

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Be so good as to wait a moment, he said to Vautrin, as the latter rose, after slowly emptying his coffee-cup, sip by sip.

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What for? inquired the older man, as he put on his large-brimmed hat and took up the sword-cane that he was wont to twirl like a man who will face three or four footpads without flinching.

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I will repay you in a minute, returned Eugène. He unsealed one of the bags as he spoke, counted out a hundred and forty francs, and pushed them towards Mme. Vauquer. "Short reckonings make good friends" he added, turning to the widow; "that clears our accounts till the end of the year. Can you give me change for a five-franc piece?"

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Good friends make short reckonings, echoed Poiret, with a glance at Vautrin.

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Here is your franc, said Rastignac, holding out the coin to the sphinx in the black wig.

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Any one might think that you were afraid to owe me a trifle, exclaimed this latter, with a searching glance that seemed to read the young man’s inmost thoughts; there was a satirical and cynical smile on Vautrin’s face such as Eugène had seen scores of times already; every time he saw it, it exasperated him almost beyond endurance.

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Well... so I am, he answered. He held both the bags in his hand, and had risen to go up to his room.

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Vautrin made as if he were going out through the sitting-room, and the student turned to go through the second door that opened into the square lobby at the foot of the staircase.

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Do you know, M. le Marquis de Rastignacorama, that what you were saying just now was not exactly polite? Vautrin remarked, as he rattled his sword-cane across the panels of the sitting-room door, and came up to the student.

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Rastignac looked coolly at Vautrin, drew him to the foot of the staircase, and shut the dining-room door. They were standing in the little square lobby between the kitchen and the dining-room; the place was lighted by an iron-barred fanlight above a door that gave access into the garden. Sylvie came out of her kitchen, and Eugène chose that moment to say:

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Monsieur Vautrin, I am not a marquis, and my name is not Rastignacorama.

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They will fight, said Mlle. Michonneau, in an indifferent tone.

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Fight! echoed Poiret.

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Not they, replied Mme. Vauquer, lovingly fingering her pile of coins.

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But there they are under the lime-trees, cried Mlle. Victorine, who had risen so that she might see out into the garden. "Poor young man! he was in the right, after all."

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We must go upstairs, my pet, said Mme. Couture; "it is no business of ours."

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At the door, however, Mme. Couture and Victorine found their progress barred by the portly form of Sylvie the cook.

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Whatever can have happened? she said. "M. Vautrin said to M. Eugène, ’Let us have an explanation!’ Then he took him by the arm, and there they are, out among the artichokes."

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Vautrin came in while she was speaking. "Mamma Vauquer," he said smiling, "don’t frighten yourself at all. I am only going to try my pistols under the lime-trees."

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Oh! monsieur, cried Victorine, clasping her hands as she spoke, "why do you want to kill M. Eugène?"

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Vautrin stepped back a pace or two, and gazed at Victorine.

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Oh! Here’s something else to think about! he exclaimed in a jeering tone, that brought the color into the poor girl’s face. "That young fellow yonder is very nice, isn’t he?" he went on. "You have given me a notion, my pretty child; I will make you both happy."

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Mme. Couture laid her hand on the arm of her ward, and drew the girl away, as she said in her ear:

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Why, Victorine, I cannot imagine what has come over you this morning.

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I don’t want any shots fired in my garden, said Mme. Vauquer. "You will frighten the neighborhood and bring the police up here all in a moment."

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Come, keep cool, Mamma Vauquer, answered Vautrin. "There, there; it’s all right; we will go to the shooting-gallery."

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He went back to Rastignac, laying his hand familiarly on the young man’s arm.

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When I have given you ocular demonstration of the fact that I can put a bullet through the ace of spades five times running at thirty-five paces, he said, "that won’t take away your appetite, I suppose? You look to me to be inclined to be a trifle quarrelsome this morning, and as if you would be fool enough to let me kill you."

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Do you draw back? asked Eugène.

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Don’t irritate me, answered Vautrin, "it is not cold this morning. Let us go and sit over there," he added, pointing to the green-painted garden seats; "no one can overhear us. I want a little talk with you. You are not a bad sort of youngster, and I have no quarrel with you. I like you, take Trump—(damn it!)—take Vautrin’s word for it. What makes me like you? I will tell you by and by. Meantime, I can tell you that I know you as well as if I had made you myself, as I will prove to you in a minute. Put down your bags," he continued, pointing to the round table.

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Rastignac deposited his money on the table, and sat down. He was consumed with curiosity, which the sudden change in the manner of the man before him had excited to the highest pitch. Here was a strange being who, a moment ago, had talked of killing him, and now posed as his protector.

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You would like to know who I really am, what I was, and what I do now, Vautrin went on. "You want to know too much, youngster. Come! come! keep cool! You will hear more astonishing things than that. I have had my misfortunes. Just hear me out first, and you shall have your turn afterwards. Here is my past in three words. Who am I? Vautrin. What do I do? Just what I please. Let us change the subject. You want to know my character. I am good-natured to those who do me a good turn, or to those whose hearts speak to mine. These last may do anything they like with me; they may bruise my shins, and I shall not tell them to ‘mind what they are about’; but, by God! the devil himself is not an uglier customer than I can be if people annoy me, or if I don’t happen to take to them; and you may just as well know at once that I think no more of killing a man than of that," and he spat before him as he spoke. "Only when it is absolutely necessary to do so, I do my best to kill him properly. I am what you call an artist. I have read Benvenuto Cellini’s Memoirs, such as you see me; and, what is more, in Italian! A fine-spirited fellow he was! From him I learned to follow the example set us by Providence, who strikes us down at random, and to admire the beautiful whenever and wherever it is found. And, setting other questions aside, is it not a glorious part to play, when you pit yourself against mankind, and the luck is on your side? I have thought a good deal about the constitution of your present social Disorder. A duel is downright childish, my boy! utter nonsense and folly! When one of two living men must be got out of the way, none but an idiot would leave chance to decide which it is to be; and in a duel it is a toss-up—heads or tails—and there you are! Now I, for instance, can hit the ace in the middle of a card five times running, send one bullet after another through the same hole, and at thirty-five paces, moreover! With that little accomplishment you might think yourself certain of killing your man, mightn’t you? Well, I have fired, at twenty paces, and missed, and the rogue who had never handled a pistol in his life—look here!" He unbuttoned his waistcoat and exposed his chest, covered, like a bear’s back, with a shaggy, reddish fell; the student gave a startled shudder. "The greenhorn scratched me here," said the extraordinary man, drawing Rastignac’s fingers over a deep scar on his breast. "But that happened when I myself was a mere boy; I was one-and-twenty then (your age), and I had some beliefs left—in a woman’s love, and in a pack of rubbish that you will be over head and ears in directly. You and I were to have fought just now, weren’t we? You might have killed me. Suppose that I were put under the earth, where would you be? You would have to clear out of this, go to Switzerland, draw on papa’s purse—and he has none too much in it as it is. I mean to open your eyes to your real position, that is what I am going to do: but I shall do it from the point of view of a man who, after studying the world very closely, sees that there are but two alternatives—stupid obedience or revolt. I obey nobody; is that clear? Now, do you know how much you will want at the pace you are going? A million; and promptly, too, or that little head of yours will be swaying to and fro in the drag-nets at Saint-Cloud, while we are gone to find out whether or no there is a Supreme Being. I can give you that million."

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He stopped for a moment and looked at Eugène.

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"Aha! you are not so cross with papa Vautrin now! At the mention of the million you look like a young girl when somebody has said, ‘I will come for you this evening!’ and she tricks herselfout. All right. Come, now, let us go into the question, young man; all between ourselves, you know. We have a papa and mamma down yonder, a great-aunt, two sisters (aged eighteen and seventeen), two young brothers (one fifteen, and the other ten), that is about the roll-call of the crew. The aunt brings up the two sisters; the curé comes and teaches the boys Latin. Boiled chestnuts are oftener on the table than white bread. Papa makes a suit of clothes last a long while; if mamma has a different dress winter and summer, it is about as much as she has; the sisters manage as best they can. I know all about it; I have lived in the South.

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That is how things are at home. They send you twelve hundred francs a year, and the whole property only brings in three thousand francs all told. We have a cook and a manservant; papa is a baron, and we must keep up appearances. Then we have our ambitions; we are connected with the Beauséants, and we go afoot through the streets; we want to be rich, and we have not a penny; we eat Mme. Vauquer’s messes, and we like grand dinners in the Faubourg Saint-Germain; we sleep on a cheap cot bed, and dream of a mansion! I do not blame you for wanting these things. What sort of men do the women run after? Men of ambition. Men of ambition have stronger frames, their blood is richer in iron, their hearts are warmer than those of ordinary men. Women feel that when their power is greatest, they look their best, and that those are their happiest hours; they like power in men, and prefer the strongest even if it is a power that may be their own destruction. I am going to make an inventory of your desires in order to put the question at issue before you. Here it is:"

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"We are as hungry as a wolf, and those newly-cut teeth of ours are sharp; what are we to do to keep the pot boiling? In the first place, we have the Code to browse upon; it is not amusing, and we are none the wiser for it, but that cannot be helped. So far so good. We mean to make an advocate of ourselves with a prospect of one day being made president of a Court of Assize, when we shall send poor devils, our betters, to the galleys with a T. F.[1] branded on their shoulders, so that the rich may be convinced that they can sleep in peace. There is no fun in that; and you are a long while coming to it; for, to begin with, there are two years of hanging around in Paris, we see all the lollipops that we long for out of our reach. It is tiresome to want things and never to have them. If you were a pallid creature of the mollusk order, you would have nothing to fear, but it is different when you have the hot blood of a lion and are ready to get into a dozen scrapes every day of your life. This is the ghastliest form of torture known in this inferno of God’s making, and you will give in to it. Or suppose that you are a good boy, drink nothing stronger than milk, and write your verses; you, with your generous nature, will endure hardships that would drive a dog mad, and make a start, after long waiting, as deputy to some rascal or other in a hole of a place where the government will fling you a thousand francs a year like the scraps that are thrown to the butcher’s dog. Bark at thieves, plead the cause of the rich, send men of heart to the guillotine, that is your work! Many thanks! If you have no influence, you may rot in your provincial tribunal. At thirty you will be a justice with twelve hundred francs a year (if you have not flung off the gown for good before then). By the time you are forty you may marry a miller’s daughter, an heiress with some six thousand livres a year. Much obliged! If you have influence, you may possibly be a public prosecutor by the time you are thirty; with a salary of a thousand crowns, you could marry the mayor’s daughter. Some petty piece of political trickery, such as mistaking Villèle for Manuel in a bulletin (the names rhyme, and that quiets your conscience), and you will probably be a Attorney General by the time you are forty, with a chance of becoming a deputy. Please observe, my dear boy, that our conscience will have been a little damaged in the process, and that we shall have endured twenty years of drudgery and hidden poverty, and that our sisters will have become old maids. I have the honor to call your attention to another fact: to wit, that there are but twenty Procureurs Généraux at a time in all France, while there are some twenty thousand of you young men who aspire to that elevated position; that there are some mountebanks among you who would sell their family to screw their fortunes a peg higher. If this sort of thing sickens you, try another course. The Baron de Rastignac thinks of becoming an advocate, does he? There’s a nice prospect for you! Ten years of drudgery straight away. You are obliged to live at the rate of a thousand francs a month; you must have a library of law books, live in chambers, go into society, go down on your knees to ask a solicitor for briefs, lick the dust off the floor of the Palais de Justice. If this kind of business led to anything, I should not say no; but just give me the names of five advocates here in Paris who by the time that they are fifty are making fifty thousand francs a year! Bah! I would sooner turn pirate on the high seas than have my soul shrivel up inside me like that. How will you find the capital? There is but one way, marry a woman who has money. There is no fun in it. Have you a mind to marry? You hang a stone around your neck; for if you marry for money, what becomes of our exalted notions of honor and so forth? You might as well fly in the face of social conventions at once. Is it nothing to crawl like a serpent before your wife, to lick her mother’s feet, to descend to dirty actions that would sicken swine—faugh!—never mind if you at least make your fortune. But you will be as doleful as a dripstone if you marry for money. It is better to wrestle with men than to wrangle at home with your wife. You are at the crossway of the roads of life, my boy; choose your way.

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But you have chosen already. You have gone to see your cousin de Beauséant, and you have sniffed at luxury; you have been to Mme. de Restaud’s house, and in Old Goriot’s daughter you have sniffed the Parisienne for the first time. That day you came back with a word written upon your forehead. I knew it, I could read it—’success!’ Yes, Success at any price. ’Bravo,’ said I to myself, ’here is the sort of fellow for me.’ You wanted money. Where was it to come from? You have drained your sisters’ little hoards (all brothers sponge more or less on their sisters). Those fifteen hundred francs of yours (got together, God knows how! in a country where there are more chestnuts than five-franc pieces) will slip away like soldiers after pillage. And, then, what will you do? Shall you begin to work? Work, or what you understand by work at this moment, means, for a man of Poiret’s calibre, an old age in Mamma Vauquer’s lodging-house. There are fifty thousand young men in your position at this moment, all bent as you are on solving one and the same problem—how to acquire a fortune rapidly. You are but a unit in that aggregate. You can guess, therefore, what efforts you must make, how desperate the struggle is. There are not fifty thousand good positions for you; you must fight and devour one another like spiders in a pot. Do you know how a man makes his way here? By brilliant genius or by skillful corruption. You must either cut your way through these masses of men like a cannon-ball, or slink through like a plague. Honesty is nothing to the purpose. Men bow before the power of genius; they hate it, and try to slander it, because genius does not divide the spoil; but if genius persists, they bow before it. To sum it all up in a phrase, if they fail to smother genius in the mud, they fall on their knees and worship it. Corruption is a great power in the world, and talent is scarce. So corruption is the weapon of superfluous mediocrity; you will be made to feel the point of it everywhere. You will see women who spend more than ten thousand francs a year on dress, while their husband’s salary (his whole income) is six thousand francs. You will see officials buying estates on twelve thousand francs a year. You will see women who sell themselves body and soul to drive in a carriage belonging to the son of a peer of France, who has a right to drive in the middle rank at Longchamp. You have seen that poor idiot Goriot obliged to meet a bill with his daughter’s name at the back of it, though her husband has fifty thousand francs a year. I defy you to walk a couple of yards anywhere in Paris without stumbling on some infernal complication. I’ll bet my head to a head of that salad that you will stir up a hornet’s nest by taking a fancy to the first young, rich, and pretty woman you meet. They are all dodging the law, all at loggerheads with their husbands. If I were to begin to tell you all that vanity or necessity (virtue is not often mixed up in it, you may be sure), all that vanity and necessity drive them to do for lovers, finery, housekeeping, or children, I should never come to an end. So an honest man is the common enemy."

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"But do you know what an honest man is? Here, in Paris, an honest man is the man who keeps his own counsel, and will not divide the plunder. I am not speaking now of those poor bond-slaves who do the work of the world without a reward for their toil—God Almighty’s outcasts, I call them. Among them, I grant you, is virtue in all the flower of its stupidity, but poverty is no less their portion. At this moment, I think I see the long faces those good folk would pull if God played a practical joke on them and stayed away at the Last Judgment.

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Well, then, if you mean to make a fortune quickly, you must either be rich to begin with, or make people believe that you are rich. It is no use playing here except for high stakes; once take to low play, it is all up with you. If in the scores of professions that are open to you, there are ten men who rise very rapidly, people are sure to call them thieves. You can draw your own conclusions. Such is life. It is no cleaner than a kitchen; it reeks like a kitchen; and if you mean to cook your dinner, you must expect to soil your hands; the real art is in getting them clean again, and therein lies the whole morality of our epoch. If I take this tone in speaking of the world to you, I have the right to do so; I know it well. Do you think that I am blaming it? Far from it; the world has always been as it is now. Moralists’ strictures will never change it. Mankind is not perfect, but one age is more or less hypocritical than another, and then simpletons say that its morality is high or low. I do not think that the rich are any worse than the poor; man is much the same, high or low, or wherever he is. In a million of these human cattle there may be half a score of bold spirits who rise above the rest, above the laws; I am one of them. And you, if you are cleverer than your fellows, make straight to your end, and hold your head high. Still you will have to fight against envy and slander and mediocrity, and the whole world. Napoleon met with a Minister of War, Aubry by name, who all but sent him to the colonies."

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Feel your pulse. Think whether you can get up morning after morning, strengthened in yesterday’s purpose. In that case I will make you an offer that no one would decline. Listen attentively. You see, I have an idea of my own. My idea is to live a patriarchal life on a vast estate, say a hundred thousand acres, somewhere in the Southern States of America. I mean to be a planter, to have slaves, to make a few snug millions by selling my cattle, timber, and tobacco; I want to live an absolute monarch, and to do just as I please; to lead such a life as no one here in these squalid dens of lath and plaster ever imagines. I am a great poet; I do not write my poems, I feel them, and act them. At this moment I have fifty thousand francs, which might possibly buy forty negroes. I want two hundred thousand francs, because I want to have two hundred negroes to carry out my notions of the patriarachal life properly. Negroes, you see, are like a sort of family ready grown, and there are no inquisitive public prosecutors out there to interfere with you. That investment in ebony ought to mean three or four million francs in ten years’ time. If I am successful, no one will ask me who I am. I shall be Mr. Four Millions, an American citizen. I shall be fifty years old by then, and sound and hearty still; I shall enjoy life after my own fashion. In two words, if I find you an heiress with a million, will you give me two hundred thousand francs? Twenty per cent commission, eh? Is that too much? Your little wife will be very much in love with you. Once married, you will show signs of uneasiness and remorse; for a couple of weeks you will be depressed. Then, some night after a bit of monkey business, comes the confession, between two kisses, ‘Two hundred thousand francs of debts, my darling!’ This sort of farce is played every day in Paris, and by young men of the greatest distinction. When a young wife has given her heart, she will not refuse her purse. Perhaps you are thinking that you will lose the money for good? Not you. You will make two hundred thousand francs again by some stroke of business. With your capital and your brains you should be able to accumulate as large a fortune as you could wish. Ergo, in six months you will have made your own fortune, and your old friend Vautrin’s, and made a charming woman very happy, to say nothing of your people at home, who must blow on their fingers to warm them, in the winter, for lack of firewood. You need not be surprised at my proposal, nor at the demand I make. Forty-seven out of every sixty great matches here in Paris are made after just such a bargain as this. The Chamber of Notaries compels my gentleman to—

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What must I do? said Rastignac, eagerly interrupting Vautrin’s speech.

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Next to nothing, returned the other, with a slight involuntary movement, the suppressed exultation of the angler when he feels a bite at the end of his line. "Follow me carefully! The heart of a girl whose life is wretched and unhappy is a sponge that will thirstily absorb love; a dry sponge that swells at the first drop of sentiment. If you pay court to a young girl whose existence is a compound of loneliness, despair, and poverty, and who has no suspicion that she will come into a fortune, good Lord! it is to hold the game in your own hand; it is knowing the numbers of the lottery beforehand; it is speculating in the funds when you have news from a sure source; it is building up a marriage on an indestructible foundation. The girl may come in for millions, and she will fling them, as if they were so many pebbles, at your feet. ’Take it, my beloved! Take it, Alfred, Adolphe, Eugène!’ or whoever it was that showed his sense by sacrificing himself for her. And as for sacrificing himself, this is how I understand it. You sell a coat that is getting shabby, so that you can take her to the Blue Dial, treat her to mushrooms on toast, and then go to the Ambigu-Comique in the evening; you pawn your watch to buy her a shawl. I need not remind you of the fiddle-faddle sentimentality that goes down so well with all women; you spill a few drops of water on your stationery, for instance; those are the tears you shed while far away from her. You look to me as if you were perfectly acquainted with the argot of the heart. Paris, you see, is like a forest in the New World, where you have to deal with a score of varieties of savages—Illinois and Hurons, who live on the proceeds of their social hunting. You are a hunter of millions; you set your snares; you use lures and nets; there are many ways of hunting. Some hunt heiresses, others a legacy; some fish for souls, yet others sell their clients, bound hand and foot. Every one who comes back from the chase with his game-bag well filled meets with a warm welcome in good society. In justice to this hospitable part of the world, it must be said that you have to do with the most easy and good-natured of great cities. If the proud aristocracies of the rest of Europe refuse admittance among their ranks to a disreputable millionaire, Paris stretches out a hand to him, goes to his banquets, eats his dinners, and drinks to his infamous health."

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But where is such a girl to be found? asked Eugène.

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Under your eyes; she is yours already.

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Mlle. Victorine?

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Precisely.

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And what was that you said?

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She is in love with you already, your little Baronne de Rastignac!

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She has not a penny, Eugène continued, much mystified.

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Ah! now we are coming to it! Just another word or two, and it will all be clear enough. Her father, Taillefer, is an old scoundrel; it is said that he murdered one of his friends at the time of the Revolution. He is one of your comedians that sets up to have opinions of his own. He is a banker—senior partner in the house of Frédéric Taillefer and Company. He has one son, and means to leave all he has to the boy, to the prejudice of Victorine. For my part, I don’t like to see injustice of this sort. I am like Don Quixote, I have a fancy for defending the weak against the strong. If it should please God to take that youth away from him, Taillefer would have only his daughter left; he would want to leave his money to someone or other; an absurd notion, but it is only human nature, and he is not likely to have any more children, as I know. Victorine is gentle and amiable; she will soon twist her father round her fingers, and set his head spinning like a German top by plying him with sentiment! She will be too much touched by your devotion to forget you; you will marry her. I mean to play Providence for you, and Providence is to do my will. I have a friend whom I am devoted, a colonel in the Army of the Loire, who has just been transferred into the Royal Guard. He has taken my advice and turned ultra-royalist; he is not one of those fools who never change their opinions. Of all pieces of advice, my cherub, I would give you this—don’t stick to your opinions any more than to your words. If any one asks you for them, let him have them—at a price. A man who prides himself on going in a straight line through life is an idiot who believes in infallibility. There are no such things as principles; there are only events, and there are no laws but those of expediency: a man of talent accepts events and the circumstances in which he finds himself, and turns everything to his own ends. If laws and principles were fixed and invariable, nations would not change them as readily as we change our shirts. The individual is not obliged to be more particular than the nation. A man whose services to France have been of the very slightest is a fetich looked on with superstitious awe because he has always seen everything in red; but he is good, at the most, to be put into the Museum of Arts and Crafts, among the automatic machines, and labeled La Fayette; while the prince at whom everybody flings a stone, the man who despises humanity enough to spit out as many oaths as it demands, saved France from being torn in pieces at the Congress of Vienna; and they who should have given him laurels fling mud at him. Oh! I know something of affairs, I can tell you; I have the secrets of many men! Enough. When I find three minds in agreement as to the application of a principle, I shall have a fixed and immovable opinion—I shall have to wait a long while first. In the Tribunals you will not find three judges of the same opinion on a single point of law. To return to the man I was telling you of. He would crucify Jesus Christ again, if I bade him. At a word from his old chum Vautrin he will pick a quarrel with a scamp that will not send so much as five francs to his sister, poor girl, and—here Vautrin rose to his feet and stood like a fencing master about to lunge—"turn him off into the dark!" he added.

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How frightful! said Eugène. "You do not really mean it? M. Vautrin, you are joking!"

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There! there! Keep cool! said the other. "Don’t behave like a baby. But if you find any amusement in it, be indignant, flare up! Say that I am a scoundrel, a rascal, a rogue, a bandit; but do not call me a cheat nor a spy! There, out with it, fire away! I forgive you; it is quite natural at your age. I was like that myself once. Only remember this, you will do worse things yourself some day. You will flirt with some pretty woman and take her money. You have thought of that, of course," said Vautrin, "for how are you to succeed unless love is laid under contribution? There are no two ways about virtue, my dear student; it either is, or it is not. Talk of doing penance for your sins! It is a nice system of business, when you pay for your crime by an act of contrition! You seduce a woman that you may set your foot on such and such a rung of the social ladder; you sow dissension among the children of a family; you descend, in short, to every base action that can be committed at home or abroad, to gain your own ends for your own pleasure or your profit; and can you imagine that these are acts of faith, hope, or charity? How is it that a dandy, who in a night has robbed a boy of half his fortune, gets only a couple of months in prison; while a poor devil who steals a banknote for a thousand francs, with aggravating circumstances, is condemned to penal servitude? Those are your laws. Not a single provision but lands you in some absurdity. That man with yellow gloves and a golden tongue commits many a murder; he sheds no blood, but he drains his victim’s veins as surely; a desperado forces open a door with a crowbar, dark deeds both of them! You yourself will do every one of those things that I suggest to you today, bar the bloodshed. Do you believe that there is any absolute standard in this world? Despise mankind and find out the meshes that you can slip through in the net of the Code. The secret of a great success for which you are at a loss to account is a crime that has never been found out, because it was properly executed."

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Silence, sir! I will not hear any more; you make me doubt myself. At this moment I know nothing; I can only feel.

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Just as you please, my pretty boy; I did think you were so weak-minded, said Vautrin, "I shall say no more about it. One last word, however"—and he looked hard at the student—"you have my secret," he said.

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A young man who refuses your offer knows that he must forget it.

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Quite right, quite right; I am glad to hear you say so. Somebody else might not be so scrupulous, you see. Keep in mind what I want to do for you. I will give you a fortnight. Take it and leave it.

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What a head of iron the man has! said Eugène to himself as he watched Vautrin walk unconcernedly away with his cane under his arm. "Yet Mme. de Beauséant said as much more gracefully; he has only stated the case in cruder language. He would tear my heart with claws of steel. What made me think of going to Mme. de Nucingen? He guessed my motives before I knew them myself. To sum it up, that outlaw has told me more about virtue than all I have learned from men and books. If virtue admits of no compromises, I have certainly robbed my sisters," he said, throwing down the bags on the table.

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He sat down again and fell into deep thought, unconscious of his surroundings.

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To be faithful to an ideal of virtue! A heroic martyrdom! Pshaw! every one believes in virtue, but who is virtuous? Nations have made an idol of Liberty, but what nation on the face of the earth is free? My youth is still like a blue and cloudless sky. If I set myself to obtain wealth or power, does it not mean that I must make up my mind to lie, and fawn, and cringe, and swagger, and flatter, and dissemble? To consent to be the servant of others who have likewise fawned and lied, and flattered? Must I cringe to them before I can hope to be their accomplice? Well, then, I decline. I mean to work nobly and with a single heart. I will work day and night; I will owe my fortune to nothing but my own exertions. It may be the slowest of all roads to success, but I shall lay my head on the pillow at night untroubled by evil thoughts. Is there a greater or a better thing than this—to look back over your life and know that it is stainless as a lily? I and my life are like a young man and his betrothed. Vautrin has put before me all that comes after ten years of marriage. The devil! my head is swimming. I do not want to think at all; the heart is a sure guide.

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Eugène was roused from his musings by the voice of the fat Sylvie, who announced that the tailor had come, and Eugène therefore made his appearance before the man with the two money-bags, and was not ill pleased that it should be so. When he had tried on his dress suit, he put on his new morning costume, which completely metamorphosed him.

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I look quite as well as M. de Trailles, he said to himself. "In short, I look like a gentleman."

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You asked me, sir, if I knew the houses where Mme. de Nucingen goes, Old Goriot’s voice spoke from the doorway of Eugène’s room.

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Yes.

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Very well then, she is going to the Maréchale Carigliano’s ball on Monday. If you can manage to be there, I shall hear from you whether my two girls enjoyed themselves, and how they were dressed, and all about it in fact.

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How did you find that out, my good Goriot? said Eugène, putting a chair by the fire for his visitor.

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Her maid told me. I hear all about their doings from Thérèse and Constance, he added gleefully.

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The old man looked like a lover who is still young enough to be made happy by the discovery of some little stratagem which brings him information of his lady-love without her knowledge.

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You will see them both! he said, giving artless expression to a pang of jealousy.

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I do not know, answered Eugène. "I will go to Mme. de Beauséant and ask her for an introduction to the Maréchale."

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Eugène felt a thrill of pleasure at the thought of appearing before the Vicomtesse, dressed as henceforward he always meant to be. The "abysses of the human heart," in the moralists’ phrase, are only insidious thoughts, involuntary promptings of personal interest. The instinct of enjoyment turns the scale; those rapid changes of purpose which have furnished the text for so much rhetoric are calculations prompted by the hope of pleasure. Rastignac beholding himself well dressed and impeccable as to gloves and boots, forgot his virtuous resolutions. Youth, moreover, when bent upon wrongdoing does not dare to behold itself in the mirror of consciousness; mature age has seen itself; and therein lies the whole difference between these two phases of life.

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A friendship between Eugène and his neighbor, Old Goriot, had been growing up for several days past. This secret friendship and the antipathy that the student had begun to entertain for Vautrin arose from the same psychological causes. The bold philosopher who shall investigate the effects of mental action upon the physical world will doubtless find more than one proof of the material nature of our sentiments in the relations which they create between human beings and other animals. What physiognomist is as quick to discern character as a dog is to discover from a stranger’s face whether this is a friend or no? Those by-words—"atoms," "affinities"—are facts surviving in modern languages for the confusion of philosophic wiseacres who amuse themselves by winnowing the chaff of language to find its grammatical roots. We feel that we are loved. Our sentiments make themselves felt in everything, even at a great distance. A letter is a living soul, and so faithful an echo of the voice that speaks in it, that finer natures look upon a letter as one of love’s most precious treasures. Old Goriot’s affection was of the instinctive order, a canine affection raised to a sublime pitch; he had scented compassion in the air, and the kindly respect and youthful sympathy in the student’s heart. This friendship had, however, scarcely reached the stage at which confidences are made. Though Eugène had spoken of his wish to meet Mme. de Nucingen, it was not because he counted on the old man to introduce him to her house, for he hoped that his own audacity might stand him in good stead. All that Old Goriot had said as yet about his daughters had referred to the remarks that the student had made so freely in public on that day of the two visits.

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How could you think that Mme. de Restaud bore you a grudge for mentioning my name? he had said on the day following that scene at dinner. "My daughters are very fond of me; I am a happy father; but my sons-in-law have behaved badly to me, and rather than make trouble between my darlings and their husbands, I choose to see my daughters secretly. Fathers who can see their daughters at any time have no idea of all the pleasure that all this mystery gives me; I cannot always see mine when I wish, do you understand? So when it is fine I walk in the Champs-Elysées, after finding out from their maids whether my daughters mean to go out. I wait near the entrance; my heart beats fast when the carriages begin to come; I admire them in their dresses, and as they pass they give me a little smile, and it seems as if everything was lighted up for me by a ray of bright sunlight. I wait, for they always go back the same way, and then I see them again; the fresh air has done them good and brought color into their cheeks; all about me people say, ‘What a beautiful woman that is!’ and it does my heart good to hear them.

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Are they not my own flesh and blood? I love the very horses that draw them; I envy the little lapdog on their knees. Their happiness is my life. Every one loves after his own fashion, and mine does no one any harm; why should people trouble their heads about me? I am happy in my own way. Is there any law against going to see my girls in the evening when they are going out to a ball? And what a disappointment it is when I get there too late, and am told that ’Madame has gone out!’ Once I waited till three o’clock in the morning for Nasie; I had not seen her for two whole days. I was so pleased, that it was almost too much for me! Please do not speak of me unless it is to say how good my daughters are to me. They are always wanting to heap presents upon me, but I will not have it. ’Just keep your money,’ I tell them. ’What should I do with it? I want nothing.’ And what am I, sir, after all? An old carcase, whose soul is always where my daughters are. When you have seen Mme. de Nucingen, tell me which of the two you prefer, said the poor man after a moment’s pause, while Eugène was making ready for a walk in the Garden of the Tuileries until the hour when he could venture to appear in Mme. de Beauséant’s drawing-room.

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That walk was a turning-point in Eugène’s career. Several women noticed him; he looked so handsome, so young, and so well dressed. This almost admiring attention gave a new turn to his thoughts. He forgot his sisters and the aunt who had robbed herself for him; he no longer remembered his own virtuous scruples. He had seen hovering above his head the fiend so easy to mistake for an angel, the devil with rainbow wings, who scatters rubies, and aims his golden shafts at palace fronts, who invests women with purple, and thrones with a glory that dazzles the eyes of fools till they forget the simple origins of royal dominion; he had heard the rustle of that Vanity whose tinsel seems to us to be the symbol of power. However cynical Vautrin’s words had been, they had made an impression on his mind, just as there lies engraved in the memory of a maiden the sordid profile of the old hag who has told her she may have "gold and loved a-plenty."

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Eugène lounged about the walks till it was nearly five o’clock, then he went to Mme. de Beauséant, and received one of the terrible blows against which young hearts are defenceless. Hitherto the Vicomtesse had received him with the kindly urbanity, the bland grace of manner that is the result of fine breeding, but is only complete when it comes from the heart.

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Today Mme. de Beauséant bowed constrainedly, and spoke curtly:

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M. de Rastignac, I cannot possibly see you, at least not at this moment. I am engaged...

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An observer, and Rastignac instantly became an observer, could read the whole history, the character and customs of caste, in the phrase, in the tones of her voice, in her glance and bearing. He caught a glimpse of the iron hand beneath the velvet glove—the personality, the egoism beneath the manner, the wood beneath the varnish. In short, he heard that unmistakable I THE KING that issues from the plumed canopy of the throne, and finds its last echo under the crest of the simplest gentleman.

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Eugène had trusted too implicitly to the generosity of a woman; he could not believe in her haughtiness. Like all the unfortunate, he had subscribed, in all good faith, the generous compact which should bind the benefactor to the recipient, and the first article in that bond, between two large-hearted natures, is a perfect equality. The kindness which knits two souls together is as rare, as divine, and as little understood as the passion of love, for both love and kindness are the lavish generosity of noble natures. Rastignac was set upon going to the Duchesse de Carigliano’s ball, so he swallowed down this rebuff.

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Madame, he faltered out, "I would not have come to trouble you about a trifling matter; be so kind as to permit me to see you later, I can wait."

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Very well, come and dine with me, she said, a little confused by the harsh way in which she had spoken, for this lady was as genuinely kind-hearted as she was high-born.

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Eugène was touched by this sudden relenting, but nonetheless he said to himself as he went away, "Crawl in the dust, put up with every kind of treatment. What must the rest of the world be like when one of the kindest of women forgets all her promises of befriending me in a moment, and tosses me aside like an old shoe? So it is every one for himself? It is true that her house is not a shop, and I have put myself in the wrong by needing her help. You should cut your way through the world like a cannon-ball, as Vautrin said."

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But the student’s bitter thoughts were soon dissipated by the pleasure which he promised himself in this dinner with the Vicomtesse. Fate seemed to determine that the smallest accidents in his life should combine to precipitate him into a career, which the terrible sphinx of the Vauquer household had described as a field of battle where you must either slay or be slain, and cheat to avoid being cheated. You leave your conscience and your heart at the barriers, and wear a mask on entering into this game of grim earnest, where, as in ancient Sparta, you must snatch at fortune, unperceived, in order to win the crown.

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On his return he found the Vicomtesse gracious and kindly, as she had always been to him. They went together to the dining-room, where the Vicomte was waiting for his wife. In the time of the Restoration the luxury of the table was carried, as is well known, to the highest degree, and M. de Beauséant, like many jaded men of the world, had few pleasures left but those of good cheer; in this matter, in fact, he was a gourmand of the schools of Louis XVIII and of the Duc d’Escars, and luxury was supplemented by splendor. Eugène, dining for the first time in a house where the traditions of grandeur had descended through many generations, had never seen any spectacle like this that now met his eyes. In the time of the Empire, balls had always ended with a supper, because the officers who took part in them must be fortified for immediate service, and even in Paris might be called upon to leave the ballroom for the battlefield. This arrangement had gone out of fashion under the monarchy, and Eugène had so far only been asked to dances. The self-possession which pre-eminently distinguished him in later life already stood him in good stead, and he did not betray his amazement. Yet as he saw for the first time the finely wrought silver-plate, the completeness of every detail, the sumptuous dinner, noiselessly served, it was difficult for such an ardent imagination not to prefer this life of studied and refined luxury to the hardships of the life which he had chosen only that morning.

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His thoughts went back for a moment to the lodging-house, and with a feeling of profound loathing, he vowed to himself that at New Year he would go; prompted at least as much by a desire to live among cleaner surroundings as by a wish to shake off Vautrin, whose huge hand he seemed to feel on his shoulder at that moment. When you consider the numberless forms, clamorous or mute, that corruption takes in Paris, common sense begins to wonder what mental aberration prompted the state to establish great colleges and schools there, and assemble young men in the capital; how it is that pretty women are respected, or that the gold coin displayed in the money-changer’s wooden saucers does not take to itself wings in the twinkling of an eye; and when you come to think further, how comparatively few cases of crime there are, and to count up the misdemeanors committed by youth, is there not a certain amount of respect due to these patient Tantaluses who wrestle with themselves and nearly always come off victorious? The struggles of the poor student in Paris, if skilfully drawn, would furnish a most dramatic picture of modern civilization.

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In vain Mme. de Beauséant looked at Eugène as if asking him to speak; the student was tongue-tied in the Vicomte’s presence.

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Are you going to take me to the Italiens this evening? the Vicomtesse asked her husband.

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You cannot doubt that I should obey you with pleasure, he answered, and there was a sarcastic tinge in his politeness which Eugène did not detect, "but I ought to go to meet someone at the Variétés."

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His mistress, said she to herself.

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Then, is not Ajuda coming for you this evening? inquired the Vicomte.

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No, she answered petulantly.

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Very well, then, if you really must have an arm, take that of M. de Rastignac.

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The Vicomtess turned to Eugène with a smile.

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That would be a very compromising step for you, she said.

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A Frenchman loves danger, because in danger there is glory,’ to quote M. de Chateaubriand, said Rastignac, with a bow.

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A few moments later he was sitting beside Mme. de Beauséant in a brougham, that whirled them through the streets of Paris to a fashionable theatre. It seemed to him that some fairy magic had suddenly transported him into a box facing the stage. All the lorgnettes of the house were pointed at him as he entered, and at the Vicomtesse in her charming toilette. He went from enchantment to enchantment.

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You must talk to me, you know, said Mme. de Beauséant. "Ah! look! There is Mme. de Nucingen in the third box from ours. Her sister and M. de Trailles are on the other side."

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The Vicomtesse glanced as she spoke at the box where Mlle. de Rochefide should have been; M. d’Ajuda was not there, and Mme. de Beauséant’s face lighted up in a marvelous way.

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She is charming, said Eugène, after looking at Mme. de Nucingen.

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She has white eyelashes.

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Yes, but she has such a pretty slender figure!

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Her hands are large.

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Such beautiful eyes!

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Her face is long.

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Yes, but length gives distinction.

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It is lucky for her that she has some distinction in her face. Just see how she fidgets with her opera-glass! The Goriot blood shows itself in every movement, said the Vicomtesse, much to Eugène’s astonishment.

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Indeed, Mme. de Beauséant seemed to be engaged in making a survey of the house, and to be unconscious of Mme. Nucingen’s existence; but no movement made by the latter was lost upon the Vicomtesse. The house was full of the loveliest women in Paris, so that Delphine de Nucingen was not a little flattered to receive the undivided attention of Mme. de Beauséant’s young, handsome, and well-dressed cousin, who seemed to have no eyes for any one else.

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If you look at her so persistently, you will make people talk, M. de Rastignac. You will never succeed if you fling yourself at any one’s head like that.

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My dear cousin, said Eugène, "you have protected me indeed so far, and now if you would complete your work, I only ask of you a favor which will cost you but little, and be of very great service to me. I have lost my heart."

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Already!

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Yes.

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And to that woman!

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How could I aspire to find any one else to listen to me? he asked, with a keen glance at his cousin. "Her Grace the Duchesse de Carigliano is a friend of the Duchesse de Berry," he went on, after a pause; "you are sure to see her, will you be so kind as to present me to her, and to take me with you to her ball on Monday? I shall meet Mme. de Nucingen there, and enter upon my first skirmish."

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Willingly, she said. "If you have a liking for her already, your affairs of the heart are like to prosper. That is de Marsay over there in the Princesse Galathionne’s box. Mme. de Nucingen is racked with jealousy. There is no better time for approaching a woman, especially if she happens to be a banker’s wife. All those ladies of the Chausséed’Antin love revenge."

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Then, what would you do yourself in such a case?

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I should suffer in silence.

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At this point the Marquis d’Ajuda appeared in Mme. de Beauséant’s box.

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I have made a muddle of my affairs to come to you, he said, "and I am telling you about it, so that it may not be a sacrifice."

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Eugène saw the glow of joy on the Vicomtesse’s face, and knew that this was love, and learned the difference between love and the affectations of Parisian coquetry. He admired his cousin, grew mute, and yielded his place to M. d’Ajuda with a sigh.

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How noble, how sublime a woman is when she loves like that! he said to himself. "And he could forsake her for a doll! Oh! how could any one forsake her?"

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There was a boy’s passionate indignation in his heart. He could have flung himself at Mme. de Beauséant’s feet; he longed for the power of the devil if he could snatch her away and hide her in his heart, as an eagle snatches up some white suckling kid from the plains and bears it to its eyrie. It was humiliating to him to think that in all this gallery of fair pictures he had not one picture of his own. "To have a mistress and an almost royal position is a sign of power," he said to himself. And he looked at Mme. de Nucingen as a man measures another who has insulted him.

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The Vicomtesse turned to him, and the expression of her eyes thanked him a thousand times for his discretion. The first act came to an end just then.

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Do you know Mme. de Nucingen well enough to present M. de Rastignac to her? she asked of the Marquis d’Ajuda.

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She will be delighted, said the Marquis. The handsome Portuguese rose as he spoke and took the student’s arm, and in another moment Eugène found himself in Mme. de Nucingen’s box.

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Madame, said the Marquis, "I have the honor of presenting to you the Chevalier Eugène de Rastignac; he is a cousin of Mme. de Beauséant’s. You have made so deep an impression upon him, that I thought I would fill up the measure of his happiness by bringing him nearer to his divinity."

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He spoke in a mocking tone that helped to cover somewhat the brutal significance of his words. But such an implication, if carefully disguised, never gives offence to a woman. Mme. de Nucingen smiled, and offered Eugène the place which her husband had just left.

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I do not venture to suggest that you should stay with me, monsieur, she said. "Those who are so fortunate as to be in Mme. de Beauséant’s company do not desire to leave it."

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Madame, Eugène said, lowering his voice, "I think that to please my cousin I should remain with you. Before the Marquis came we were speaking of you and of your exceedingly distinguished appearance," he added aloud.

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M. d’Ajuda turned and left them.

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Are you really going to stay with me, monsieur? asked the Baroness. "Then we shall make each other’s acquaintance. Mme. de Restaud told me about you, and has made me anxious to meet you."

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She must be very insincere, then, for she has shut her door on me.

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What?

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Madame, I will tell you honestly the reason why; but I must crave your indulgence before confiding such a secret to you. I am your father’s neighbor; I had no idea that Mme. de Restaud was his daughter. I was rash enough to mention his name; I meant no harm, but I annoyed your sister and her husband very much. You cannot think how severely the Duchesse de Langeais and my cousin were shocked by the bad taste of such filial apostasy. I told them all about it, and they both burst out laughing. Then Mme. de Beauséant made some comparison between you and your sister, speaking in high terms of you, and saying how very fond you were of my neighbor, M. Goriot. And, indeed, how could you help loving him? He adores you so passionately that I am jealous already. We talked about you this morning for two hours. So this evening I was quite full of all that your father had told me, and while I was dining with my cousin I said that you could not be as beautiful as affectionate. Mme. de Beauséant meant to gratify such warm admiration, I think, when she brought me here, telling me, in her gracious way, that I should see you.

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Then, even now, I owe you a debt of gratitude, monsieur, said the banker’s wife. "We shall be quite old friends in a little while."

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Although a friendship with you could not be like an ordinary friendship, said Rastignac; "I should never wish to be your friend."

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Such stereotyped phrases as these, in the mouths of beginners, possess an unfailing charm for women, and are insipid only when read coldly; for a young man’s tone, glance, and attitude give a surpassing eloquence to the banal phrases. Mme. de Nucingen thought that Rastignac was adorable. Then, womanlike, being at a loss how to reply to the student’s outspoken admiration, she answered a previous remark.

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Yes, it is very wrong of my sister to treat our poor father as she does, she said; "he has been a Providence to us. It was not until M. de Nucingen positively ordered me only to receive him in the mornings that I yielded the point. But I have been unhappy about it for a long while; I have shed many tears over it. This violence to my feelings, with my husband’s brutal treatment, have been two causes of my unhappy married life. There is certainly no woman in Paris whose lot seems more enviable than mine, and yet, in reality, there is not one so much to be pitied. You will think I must be out of my senses to talk to you like this; but you know my father, and I cannot regard you as a stranger."

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You will find no one, said Eugène, "who longs as eagerly as I do to place himself at your disposal. What do all women seek? Happiness." (He answered his own question in low, vibrating tones.) "And if happiness for a woman means that she is to be loved and adored, to have a friend to whom she can pour out her wishes, her fancies, her sorrows and joys; to whom she can lay bare her heart and soul, and all her fair defects and her gracious virtues, without fear of a betrayal; believe me, the devotion and the warmth that never fails can only be found in the heart of a young man who has kept his illusions, who, at a bare sign from you, would go to his death, who neither knows nor cares to know anything as yet of the world, because you will be all the world to him. I myself, you see (you will laugh at my simplicity), have just come from the provinces; I am quite new to this world of Paris; I have only known true and loving hearts; and I made up my mind that here I should find no love. Then I chanced to meet my cousin, and to read the secret of her heart; I have divined the inexhaustible treasures of passion, and, like Cherubino, I am the lover of all women, until the day comes when I find the woman to whom I may devote myself. As soon as I saw you, as soon as I came into the theatre this evening, I felt myself borne towards you as if by the current of a stream. I had so often thought of you already, but I had never dreamed that you would be so beautiful! Mme. de Beauséant told me that I must not stare at you so hard. She does not know the charm of your red lips, your fair face, nor see how soft your eyes are.... I also am beginning to talk nonsense; but let me talk."

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Nothing pleases woman better than to listen to such whispered words as these; the most puritanical among them listens even when she ought not to reply to them; and Rastignac, having once begun, continued to pour out his story, dropping his voice, that she might lean and listen; and Mme. de Nucingen, smiling, glanced from time to time at de Marsay, who still sat in the Princesse Galathionne’s box.

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Rastignac did not leave Mme. de Nucingen till her husband came to take her home.

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Madame, Eugène said, "I shall have the pleasure of calling upon you before the Duchesse de Carigliano’s ball."

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If Matame infites you to come, said the Baron, a thick-set Alsatian, with indications of a sinister cunning in his full-moon countenance, "you are quide sure of being well receifed."

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My affairs seem to be in a promising way, said Eugène to himself. "‘Can you love me?’ I asked her, and she did not resent it. "The bit is in the horse’s mouth, and I have only to mount and ride"; and with that he went to pay his respects to Mme. de Beauséant, who was leaving the theatre on d’Ajuda’s arm.

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The student did not know that the Baroness’ thoughts had been wandering; that she was even then expecting a letter from de Marsay, one of those letters that bring about a rupture that rends the soul; so, happy in his delusion, Eugène went with the Vicomtesse to the peristyle, where people were waiting till their carriages were announced.

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That cousin of yours is hardly recognizable for the same man, said the Portuguese laughingly to the Vicomtesse, when Eugène had taken leave of them. "He will break the bank. He is as supple as an eel; he will go a long way, of that I am sure. Who else could have picked out a woman for him, as you did, just when she needed consolation?"

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But it is not certain that she does not still love the faithless lover, said Mme. de Beauséant.

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The student meanwhile walked back from the Théatre-Italien to the Rue Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève, making the most delightful plans as he went. He had noticed how closely Mme. de Restaud had scrutinized him when he appeared in the Vicomtessés box, and again 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 Maréchale; 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 machinery, he must attach himself to a spoke of the wheel that was to turn and raise his fortunes; he would not examine himself too curiously as to the methods, but he was certain of the end, and conscious of the power to gain and keep his hold.

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If Mme. de Nucingen takes an interest in me, I will teach her how to manage her husband. That husband of hers is very successful in business; he might put me in the way of making a fortune by a single stroke.

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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 hazy ideas that floated over his mental horizon; they were less cynical than Vautrin’s notions; but if they had been tried in the crucible of conscience, no very pure result would have issued from the test. It is by a succession of suchlike transactions that men sink at last to the level of the relaxed morality of this epoch, 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 deviation from the line of rectitude is a crime. To these magnificent types of uncompromising Right we owe two masterpieces—the Alceste of Molière, 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 devious courses through which a man of the world, a man of ambitions, drags his conscience, just steering clear of crime that he may gain his end and yet save appearances, such a chronicle would be no less edifying and no less dramatic.

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Rastignac went home. He was fascinated by Mme. de Nucingen; he seemed to see her before him, slender and graceful as a swallow. He recalled the intoxicating 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 veins. He knocked unceremoniously at Goriot’s door.

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I have seen Mme. Delphine, neighbor, said he.

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Where?

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At the Italiens.

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Did she enjoy it?.... Just come inside, The old man got up in his nightshirt, unlocked the door, and promptly went back to bed.

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Tell me all about her, he begged. It was the first time that Eugène had been in Old Goriot’s room, and he could not control his feeling of amazement at the contrast between the den in which the father lived and the costume of the daughter whom he had just beheld. The window was curtainless, the walls were damp, in places the varnished wall-paper 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 very dusty. Opposite the window stood a chest of drawers made of rosewood, one of the old-fashioned kind with a curving front and brass handles, shaped like rings of twisted vine-stems covered with flowers and leaves. On a venerable wash stand with a wooden shelf stood a ewer and basin and shaving apparatus. A pair of shoes stood in one corner; a night-table by the bed had neither a door nor marble slab. There was not a trace of a fire in the empty grate; the square walnut table with the cross-bar against which Old Goriot had crushed and twisted his posset-dish stood near the hearth. 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 drudge in a garret could be worse lodged than Old Goriot in Mme. Vauquer’s lodging-house. The mere 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 Eugène as the latter deposited his candle on the night-table. The old man turned round, keeping the bedclothes huddled up to his chin.

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Well, he said, "and which do you like the best: Mme. de Restaud or Mme. de Nucingen?"

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I like Mme. Delphine the best, said the law student, "because she loves you the best."

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At the words so heartily spoken the old man’s hand slipped out from under the bedclothes and grasped Eugène’s.

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Thank you, thank you, he said, gratefully. "Then what did she say about me?"

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The student repeated the Baroness’ remarks with some embellishments of his own, the old man listening the while as though he heard a voice from heaven.

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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?"

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Yes, said Eugène. "But, M. Goriot, how is it that your daughters have such fine houses, while you live in such a den as this?"

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Dear me, why should I want anything better? he replied, with seeming 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 akin to every drop in your veins, that they are the very flower of your life (and what else are they?); you will cleave 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 miserable M. de Marsay is a cur; I know all about him from her maid. A longing to wring 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 a figure 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."

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Old Goriot was sublime. Eugène had never yet seen his face light up as it did now with the passionate fervor of a father’s love. It is worthy of remark that strong feeling has a very subtle and pervasive power; the roughest nature, in the endeavor to express a deep and sincere affection, communicates to others the influence that has put resonance into the voice, and eloquence into every gesture, wrought a change in the very features of the speaker; for under the inspiration of passion the stupidest human being attains 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?

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Well, said Eugène, "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."

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Stuff! said Old Goriot.

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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.

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Oh! how I should love you, my dear man if she cared for you. You are kind-hearted; you would never make her miserable. If you were to forsake her, I would cut your throat at once. A woman does not love twice, you see! Good heavens! what nonsense I am talking, M. Eugène! It is cold; you ought not to stay here. My God! so you have heard her speak? What message did she give you for me?

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None at all, said Eugène to himself; aloud he answered, "She told me to tell you that your daughter sends you an affectionate kiss."

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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.

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Poor old fellow! said Eugène 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."

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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. Old 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 Eugène. Moreover, he had confided 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. Eugène 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 Eugène 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 catastrophe of the drama must have remained a mystery.

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The affection with which Old Goriot regarded Eugène, 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 lodgers; Vautrin, who saw Eugène for the first time since their interview, seemed as if he would fain read the student’s very soul. During the night Eugène 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 Eugène looked very handsome in his new clothes. So much was said in the glance thus exchanged, that Eugène could not doubt but that he was associated in her mind with the vague hopes that lie dormant 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 extemporized fervor for Mme. de Nucingen would prove an antidote to the evil thoughts he had involuntarily entertained.

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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!"

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Old Goriot drank in every word that Eugène let fall, and watched him as a dog watches his master’s slightest movement.

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You men are like fighting cocks, said Mme. Vauquer; "you do what you like."

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How did you come home? inquired Vautrin.

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I walked, answered Eugène.

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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 come back comfortably. Everything or nothing; that is my motto."

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And a good one, too, commented Mme. Vauquer.

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Perhaps you will see Mme. de Nucingen today, said Eugène, 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 received by my cousin Mme. de Beauséant; don’t forget to tell her that I love her too well not to think of trying to arrange this."

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Rastignac went at once to the Law School. He had no mind to stay a moment longer than was necessary in that odious 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 meditating on social life, and he was deep in these reflections when he happened on his friend Bianchon in the Jardin du Luxembourg.

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What makes you look so solemn? said the medical student, putting an arm through Eugène’s as they went towards the Palais.

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I am tormented by temptations.

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What kind? There is a cure for temptation.

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What?

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Yielding to it.

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You laugh, but you don’t know what it is all about. Have you read Rousseau?

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Yes.

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Do you remember that he asks the reader somewhere what he would do if he could make a fortune by killing an old mandarin somewhere in China by mere force of wishing it, and without stirring from Paris?

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Yes.

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Well, then?

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Pshaw! I am at my thirty-third mandarin.

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Seriously, though. Look here, suppose you were sure that you could do it, and had only to give a nod. Would you do it?

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Is he a very old mandarin? Pshaw! after all, young or old, paralytic, or well and sound, my word for it.... Well, then. Hang it, no!

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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 whims, in fact?

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Why, here you are taking away my reason, and want me to reason!

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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 by betting pennies.

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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 galleys you go. For my own part, I am quite contented with the little lot I expect to make for myself somewhere in the country, when I step into my father’s shoes and plod along. A man’s affections are just as fully satisfied by the smallest circle as they can be by a vast circumference. Napoleon himself could only dine once, and he could not have more mistresses than an interne at the Capuchins venereal hospital. 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 entirely with you, and is just exactly the same in any case. I am for letting that Chinaman live.

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Thank you, Bianchon; you have done me good. We will always be friends.

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I say, remarked the medical student, "as I was coming out of Cuvier’s lecture at the Bontanical Gardens, 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 Chamber of Deputies; he seems to me, in fact, to be a detective dressed up like a decent retired 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."

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When Eugène reached the lodging-house, he found Old Goriot waiting for him.

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Here, cried the old man, "here is a letter from her. Pretty handwriting, eh?"

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Eugène broke the seal and read:

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SIR. I have heard from my father that you are fond of Italian music. I 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 of his duties. Do not answer, but simply come. Yours sincerely,

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D. DE N.

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Let me see it, said Old Goriot, when Eugène 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."

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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 pique makes a woman do a thing like this."

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Well, said Old Goriot, "what are you thinking about?"

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Eugène did not know the fever or vanity that possessed some women in those days; how should he imagine that to open a door in the Faubourg Saint-Germain a banker’s wife would go to almost any length. For the coterie of the Faubourg Saint-Germain was a charmed circle, and the women who moved in it were at that time the queens of society; and among the greatest of these Dames of the Inner Circle, as they were called, were Mme. de Beauséant and her friends the Duchesse de Langeais and the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse. Rastignac was alone in his ignorance of the frantic efforts made by women who lived in the Chausée-d’Antin to enter this seventh heaven and shine among the brightest constellations of their sex. But his cautious disposition stood him in good stead, and kept his judgment cool, and the not altogether enviable power of imposing instead of accepting conditions.

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Yes, I am going, he replied.

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So it was curiosity that drew him to Mme. de Nucingen; while, if she had treated him disdainfully, passion perhaps might have brought him to her feet. Still he waited almost impatiently for to-morrow, and the hour when he could go to her. There is almost as much charm for a young man in a first flirtation as there is in first love. The certainty of success is a source of happiness to which men do not confess, and all the charm of certain women lies in this. The desire of conquest springs no less from the easiness than from the difficulty of triumph, and every passion is excited or sustained by one or other of these two motives which divide the empire of love. Perhaps this division is one result of the great question of temperaments; which, after all, dominates social life. The melancholic temperament may stand in need of the tonic of coquetry, while those of nervous or sanguine complexion withdraw if they meet with a too stubborn resistance. In other words, the lymphatic temperament is essentially despondent, and the rhapsodic is choleric.

240

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As he dressed himself Eugène enjoyed to the full those pleasures which a young man will not mention for fear of being laughed at. He thought, as he brushed his hair, that a pretty woman’s glances would wander through the dark curls. He indulged in childish folly like any young girl dressing for a dance, and gazed complacently at his graceful figure while he smoothed out the creases of his coat.

241

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There are worse figures, that is certain, he said to himself.

242

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Then he went downstairs, just as the rest of the household were sitting down to dinner, and took with good humor the boisterous applause excited by his elegant appearance. The amazement with which any attention to dress is regarded in a lodging-house is a very characteristic trait. No one can put on a new coat but every one else must say his say about it.

243

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Clk! clk! clk! cried Bianchon, making the sound with his tongue against the roof of his mouth, like a driver urging on a horse.

244

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He holds himself like a duke and a peer of France, said Mme. Vauquer.

245

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Are you going a-courting? inquired Mlle. Michonneau.

246

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Cock-a-doodle-doo! cried the artist.

247

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My compliments to your wife, from the employee at the Museum.

248

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Your wife; have you a wife? asked Poiret.

249

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Yes, in compartments, water-tight, floats, guaranteed fast color, all prices from twenty-five to forty sous, neat check patterns in the latest fashion and best taste, will wash, half-linen, half-cotton, half-wool; a certain cure for toothache and other complaints under the patronage of the Royal College of Physicians! children like it! a remedy for headache, indigestion, and all other diseases affecting the throat, eyes, and ears! cried Vautrin, with a comical imitation of the volubility of a quack at a fair. "And how much shall we say for this marvel, gentlemen? Twopence? No. Nothing of the sort. All that is left in stock after supplying the Great Mogul. All the crowned heads of Europe, including the Gr-r-r-rand Duke of Baden, have been anxious to get a sight of it. Walk up! walk up! gentlemen! Pay at the desk as you go in! Strike up the music there! Brooum, la, la, trinn! la, la, boum! boum! Mister Clarinette, there, you are out of tune!" he added gruffly; "I will rap your knuckles for you!"

250

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Goodness! what an amusing man! said Mme. Vauquer to Mme. Couture; "I should never feel dull with him in the house."

251

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This burlesque of Vautrin’s was the signal for an outburst of merriment, and under cover of jokes and laughter Eugène caught a glance from Mlle. Taillefer; she had leaned over to say a few words in Mme. Couture’s ear.

252

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The cab is at the door, announced Sylvie.

253

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But where is he going to dine? asked Bianchon.

254

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With Madame la Baronne de Nucingen.

255

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M. Goriot’s daughter, said the law student.

256

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At this, all eyes turned to the old vermicelli-maker; he was gazing at Eugène with something like envy in his eyes.

257

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Rastignac reached the house in the Rue Saint-Lazare, one of those many-windowed houses with a mean-looking portico and slender columns, which are considered the thing in Paris, a typical banker’s house, decorated in the most ostentatious fashion; the walls lined with stucco, the landings of marble mosaic. Mme. de Nucingen was sitting in a little drawing-room; the room was painted in the Italian fashion, and decorated like a restaurant. The Baroness seemed depressed. The effort that she made to hide her feelings aroused Eugène’s interest; it was plain that she was not playing a part. He had expected a little flutter of excitement at his coming, and he found her dispirited and sad. The disappointment piqued his vanity.

258

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My claim to your confidence is very small, madame, he said, after rallying her on her abstracted mood; "but if I am in the way, please tell me so frankly; I count on your good faith."

259

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No, stay with me, she said; "I shall be all alone if you go. Nucingen is dining in town, and I do not want to be alone; I want to be taken out of myself."

260

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But what is the matter?

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You are the very last person whom I should tell! she exclaimed.

262

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Then I am connected in some way in this secret. I wonder what it is?

263

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Perhaps. Yet, no, she went on; "it is a domestic quarrel, which ought to be buried in the depths of the heart. I am very unhappy; did I not tell you so the day before yesterday? Golden chains are the heaviest of all fetters."

264

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When a woman tells a young man that she is very unhappy, and when the young man is clever, and well dressed, and has fifteen hundred francs lying idle in his pocket, he is sure to think as Eugène said, and he becomes a coxcomb.

265

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What can you have left to wish for? he answered. "You are young, beautiful, beloved, and rich."

266

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Do not let us talk of my affairs, she said shaking her head mournfully. "We will dine together tête-à-tête, and afterwards we will go to hear the most exquisite music. Am I to your taste?" she went on, rising and displaying her gown of white cashmere, covered with Persian embroidery in the most superb taste.

267

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I wish that you were altogether mine, said Eugène; "you are charming."

268

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You would have a forlorn piece of property, she said, smiling bitterly. "There is nothing about me that betrays my wretchedness; and yet, in spite of appearances, I am in despair. I cannot sleep; my troubles have broken my night’s rest; I shall grow ugly."

269

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Oh! that is impossible, cried the law student; "but I am curious to know what these troubles can be that a devoted love cannot efface."

270

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Ah! if I were to tell you about them, you would shun me, she said. "Your love for me as yet is only the conventional gallantry that men use to masquerade in; and, if you really loved me, you would be driven to despair. I must keep silence, you see. Let us talk of something else for pity’s sake," she added. "Let me show you my rooms."

271

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No; let us stay here, answered Eugène; he sat down on the sofa before the fire, and boldly took Mme. de Nucingen’s hand in his. She surrendered it to him; he even felt the pressure of her fingers in one of the spasmodic clutches that betray terrible agitation.

272

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Listen, said Rastignac; "if you are in trouble, you ought to tell me about it. I want to prove to you that I love you for yourself alone. You must speak to me frankly about your troubles, so that I can put an end to them, even if I have to kill half a dozen men; or I shall go, never to return."

273

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Very well, she cried, putting her hand to her forehead in an agony of despair, "I will put you to the proof, and this very moment. Yes," she said to herself, "I have no other resource left."

274

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She rang the bell.

275

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Is the baron’s carriage ready? she asked of the servant.

276

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Yes, madame.

277

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I shall take it myself. He can have mine and my horses. Serve dinner at seven o’clock.

278

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Now, come with me, she said to Eugène, who thought as he sat in the banker’s carriage beside Mme. de Nucingen that he must surely be dreaming.

279

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To the Palais-Royal, she said to the coachman; "stop near the Théatre-Fran?ais."

280

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She seemed to be too troubled and excited to answer the innumerable questions that Eugène put to her. He was at a loss what to think of her mute resistance, her obstinate silence.

281

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Another moment and she will escape me, he said to himself.

282

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When the carriage stopped at last, the Baroness gave the law student a glance that silenced his wild words, for he was almost beside himself.

283

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Is it true that you love me? she asked.

284

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Yes, he answered, and in his manner and tone there was no trace of the uneasiness that he felt.

285

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You will not think ill of me, will you, whatever I may ask of you?

286

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No.

287

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Are you ready to do my bidding?

288

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Blindly.

289

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Have you ever been to a gaming-house? she asked in a tremulous voice.

290

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Never.

291

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Ah! now I can breathe. You will have luck. Here is my purse, she said. "Take it! there are a hundred francs in it, all that such a fortunate woman as I can call her own. Go up into one of the gaming-houses—I do not know where they are, but there are some near the Palais-Royal. Try your luck with the hundred francs at a game they call roulette; lose it all, or bring me back six thousand francs. I will tell you about my troubles when you come back."

292

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Devil take me, I’m sure, if I have a glimmer of a notion of what I am about, but I will obey you, he added, with inward exultation, as he thought, "She has gone too far to draw back—she can refuse me nothing now!"

293

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Eugène took the dainty little purse, inquired the way of a second-hand clothes-dealer, and hurried to number 9, which happened to be the nearest gaming-house. He mounted the staircase, surrendered his hat, and asked the way to the roulette-table, whither the attendant took him, not a little to the astonishment of the regular comers. All eyes were fixed on Eugène as he asked, without bashfulness, where he was to deposit his stakes.

294

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If you put a louis on one only of those thirty-six numbers, and it turns up, you will win thirty-six louis, said a respectable-looking, white-haired old man in answer to his inquiry.

295

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Eugène staked the whole of his money on the number 21 (his own age). There was a cry of surprise; before he knew what he had done, he had won.

296

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Take your money off, sir, said the old gentleman; "you don’t often win twice running by that system."

297

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Eugène took the rake that the old man handed to him, and drew in his three thousand six hundred francs, and, still perfectly ignorant of what he was about, staked again on the red. The bystanders watched him enviously as they saw him continue to play. The disc turned, and again he won; the banker threw him three thousand six hundred francs once more.

298

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You have seven thousand two hundred francs of your own, the old gentleman said in his ear. "Take my advice and go away with your winnings; red has turned up eight times already. If you are charitable, you will show your gratitude for sound counsel by giving a trifle to an old prefect of Napoleon who is down on his luck."

299

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Rastignac’s head was swimming; he saw ten of his louis pass into the white-haired man’s possession, and went downstairs with his seven thousand francs; he was still ignorant of the game, and stupefied by his luck.

300

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So, that is over; and now where will you take me? he asked, as soon as the door was closed, and he showed the seven thousand francs to Mme. de Nucingen.

301

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Delphine flung her arms about him, but there was no passion in that wild embrace.

302

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You have saved me! she cried, and tears of joy flowed fast.

303

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I will tell you everything, my friend. For you will be my friend, will you not? I am rich, you think, very rich; I have everything I want, or I seem as if I had everything. Very well, you must know that M. de Nucingen does not allow me the control of a single penny; he pays all the bills for the house expenses; he pays for my carriages and opera box; he does not give me enough to pay for my dress, and he reduces me to secret poverty on purpose. I am too proud to beg from him. I should be the vilest of women if I could take his money at the price at which he offers it. Do you ask how I, with seven hundred thousand francs of my own, could let myself be robbed? It is because I was proud, and scorned to speak. We are so young, so artless when our married life begins! I never could bring myself to ask my husband for money; the words would have made my lips bleed, I did not dare to ask; I spent my savings first, and then the money that my poor father gave me, then I ran into debt. Marriage for me is a hideous farce; I cannot talk about it; let it suffice to say that Nucingen and I have separate rooms, and that I would fling myself out of the window sooner than consent to any other manner of life. I suffered agonies when I had to confess to my girlish extravagance, my debts for jewelry and trifles (for our poor father had never refused us anything, and spoiled us), but at last I found courage to tell him about them. After all, I had a fortune of my own. Nucingen flew into a rage; he said that I should be the ruin of him, and used frightful language! I wished myself a hundred feet down in the earth. He had my dowry, so he paid my debts, but he stipulated at the same time that my expenses in future must not exceed a certain fixed sum, and I gave way for the sake of peace. And then, she went on, "I wanted to gratify the vanity of someone whom you know. He may have deceived me, but I should do him the justice to say that there was nothing petty in his character. But, after all, he threw me over disgracefully. If, at a woman’s utmost need, somebody heaps gold upon her, he ought never to forsake her; that love should last for ever! But you, at one-and-twenty, you, the soul of honor, with the unsullied conscience of youth, will ask me how a woman can bring herself to accept money in such a way? My God! is it not natural to share everything with the one to whom we owe our happiness? When all has been given, why should we pause and hesitate over a part? Money is as nothing between us until the moment when the sentiment that bound us together ceases to exist. Were we not bound to each other for life? Who foresees such an end to love when he believes himself loved? You swear to love us eternally; how, then, can our interests be separate?

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You do not know how I suffered today when Nucingen refused to give me six thousand francs; he spends as much as that every month on his mistress, an opera dancer! I wanted to kill myself. The wildest thoughts came into my head. There have been moments in my life when I have envied my servants, and would have changed places with my maid. It was madness to think of going to our father, Anastasie and I have bled him dry; our poor father would have sold himself if he could have raised six thousand francs that way. I should have driven him frantic to no purpose. You have saved me from shame and death; I was beside myself with anguish. Ah! monsieur, I owed you this explanation after my mad ravings. When you left me just now, as soon as you were out of sight, I longed to escape, to run away... where, I did not know. Half the women in Paris lead such lives as mine; they live in apparent luxury, and in their souls are tormented by anxiety. I know of poor creatures even more miserable than I; there are women who are driven to ask their tradespeople to make out false bills, women who rob their husbands. Some men believe that an Indian shawl worth a thousand louis only cost five hundred francs, others that a shawl costing five hundred francs is worth a hundred louis. There are women, too, with narrow incomes, who scrape and save and starve their children to pay for a dress. I am innocent of these base meannesses. But this is the last extremity of my torture. Some women will sell themselves to their husbands, and so obtain their way, but I, at any rate, am free. If I chose, Nucingen would cover me with gold, but I would rather weep on the breast of a man whom I can respect. Ah! tonight, M. de Marsay will no longer have a right to think of me as a woman whom he has paid. She tried to conceal her tears from him, hiding her face in her hands; Eugène drew them away and looked at her; she seemed to him sublime at that moment.

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It is hideous, is it not, she cried, "to speak in a breath of money and affection. You cannot love me after this," she added.

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The incongruity between the ideas of honor which make women so great, and the errors in conduct which are forced upon them by the constitution of society, had thrown Eugène’s thoughts into confusion; he uttered soothing and consoling words, and wondered at the beautiful woman before him, and at the artless imprudence of her cry of pain.

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You will not remember this against me? she asked; "promise me that you will not."

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Ah! madame, I am incapable of doing so, he said. She took his hand and held it to her heart, a movement full of grace that expressed her deep gratitude.

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I am free and happy once more, thanks to you, she said. "Oh! I have felt lately as if I were in the grasp of an iron hand. But after this I mean to live simply and to spend nothing. You will think me just as pretty, will you not, my friend? Keep this," she went on, as she took only six of the banknotes. "In conscience I owe you a thousand crowns, for I really ought to go halves with you."

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Eugène’s virgin conscience resisted; but when the Baroness said, "I am bound to look on you as an accomplice or as an enemy," he took the money.

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It shall be a last stake in reserve, he said, "in case of misfortune."

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That was what I was dreading to hear, she cried, turning pale. "Oh, if you wish me to be anything to you, swear to me that you will never re-enter a gaming-house. Great Heaven! that I should corrupt you! I should die of sorrow!"

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They had reached the Rue Saint-Lazare by this time. The contrast between the ostentation of wealth in the house, and the wretched condition of its mistress, dazed the student; and Vautrin’s cynical words began to ring in his ears.

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Seat yourself there, said the Baroness, pointing to a low chair beside the fire. "I have a difficult letter to write," she added. "Tell me what to say."

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Say nothing, Eugène answered her. "Put the bills in an envelope, direct it, and send it by your maid."

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Why, you are perfectly delicious, she said. "Ah! see what it is to have been well brought up. That is the Beauséant through and through," she went on, smiling at him.

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She is charming, thought Eugène, more and more in love. He looked round him at the room; there was an ostentatious character about the luxury, a meretricious taste in the splendor.

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Do you like it? she asked, as she rang for the maid.

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Thérèse, take this to M. de Marsay, and give it into his hands yourself. If he is not at home, bring the letter back to me.

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Thérèse went, but not before she had given Eugène a spiteful glance.

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Dinner was announced. Rastignac gave his arm to Mme. de Nucingen; she led the way into a pretty dining-room, and again he saw the luxury of the table which he had admired in his cousin’s house.

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Come and dine with me on opera evenings, and we will go to the Italiens afterwards, she said.

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I should soon grow used to the pleasant life if it could last, but I am a poor student, and I have my way to make.

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Oh! you will succeed, she said laughing. "You will see. All that you wish will come to pass. I did not expect to be so happy."

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It is women’s nature to prove the impossible by the possible, and to annihilate facts by presentiments. When Mme. de Nucingen and Rastignac took their places in her box at the Bouffons, her face wore a look of happiness that made her so lovely that every one indulged in those small slanders against which women are defenceless; for the scandal that is uttered lightly is often seriously believed. Those who know Paris believe nothing that is said, and say nothing of what is done there.

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Eugène took the Baroness’ hand in his, and by some light pressure of the fingers, or a closer grasp of the hand, they found a language in which to express the sensations which the music gave them. It was an evening of intoxicating delight for both; and when it ended, and they went out together, Mme. de Nucingen insisted on taking Eugène with her as far as the Pont Neuf, he disputing with her the whole of the way for a single kiss after all those that she had showered upon him so passionately at the Palais-Royal; Eugène reproached her with inconsistency.

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That was gratitude, she said, "for devotion that I did not dare to hope for, but now it would be a promise."

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And will you give me no promise, ingrate?

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He grew vexed. Then, with one of those impatient gestures that fill a lover with ecstasy, she gave him her hand to kiss, and he took it with a discontented air that delighted her.

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I shall see you at the ball on Monday, she said.

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As Eugène went home in the moonlight, he fell to serious reflections. He was satisfied, and yet dissatisfied. He was pleased with an adventure which would probably give him his desire, for in the end one of the prettiest and best-dressed women in Paris would be his; but, as a set-off, he saw his hopes of fortune brought to nothing; and as soon as he realized this fact, the vague thoughts of yesterday evening began to take a more decided shape in his mind. A check is sure to reveal to us the strength of our hopes. The more Eugène learned of the pleasures of life in Paris, the more impatient he felt of poverty and obscurity. He crumpled the banknote in his pocket, and found any quantity of plausible excuses for appropriating it.

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He reached the Rue Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève at last, and from the stairhead he saw a light in Goriot’s room; the old man had lighted a candle, and set the door ajar, lest the student should pass him by, and go to his room without "telling him all about his daughter," to use his own expression. Eugène, accordingly, told him everything without reserve.

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Then they think that I am ruined! cried Old Goriot, in an agony of jealousy and desperation. "Why, I have still thirteen hundred livres a year! My God! Poor little girl! Why did she not come to me? I would have sold my stock; she should have had some of the principal, and I would have bought a life-annuity with the rest. My good neighbor, why did not you come to tell me of her difficulty? How had you the heart to go and risk her poor little hundred francs at play? This is heart-breaking work. You see what it is to have sons-in-law. Oh! if I had hold of them, I would wring their necks. Oh God! Did you say she was crying?"

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With her head on my waistcoat, said Eugène.

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Oh! give it to me, said Old Goriot. "What! my daughter’s tears have fallen there—my darling Delphine, who never used to cry when she was a little girl! Oh! I will buy you another; do not wear it again; let me have it. By the terms of her marriage contract, she ought to have the use of her property. To-morrow morning I will go and see Derville; he is an attorney. I will demand that her money should be invested in her own name. I know the law. I am an old wolf; I will show my teeth."

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Here, father; this is a banknote for a thousand francs that she wanted me to keep out of our winnings. Keep them for her, in the pocket of the waistcoat.

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Goriot looked hard at Eugène, reached out and took the law student’s hand, and Eugène felt a tear fall on it.

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You will succeed, the old man said. "God is just, you see. I know an honest man when I see him, and I can tell you, there are not many men like you. I am to have another dear child in you, am I? There, go to sleep; you can sleep, you are not yet a father. She was crying! and I have to be told about it!—and I was quietly eating my dinner, like an idiot, all the time—I, who would sell the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost to spare either of them a single tear."

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An honest man! said Eugène to himself as he lay down. "Upon my word, I think I will be an honest man all my life; it is so pleasant to obey the voice of conscience." Perhaps none but believers in God do good in secret; and Eugène believed in a God.

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序号 英文/音标 中文解释 更多操作

scrap

[skræp]

n.碎片;废品;少许;瘦小的人;争斗;打架

felted

['feltɪd]

v. 把 ... 制成毡(使 ... 粘结)

shiver

['ʃɪvə(r)]

v.颤动;发抖

oblige

[ə'blaɪdʒ]

vt.迫使;责成;使感激;施恩于;帮 ... 的忙;使…成为必要

crook

[krʊk]

n.钩;曲柄杖;弯曲;骗子

foresight

['fɔːsaɪt]

n.远见;深谋远虑

beloved

[bɪ'lʌvd]

adj.心爱的

destiny

['destəni]

n.命运

past

[pɑːst]

a. 过去的;

kindhearted

['kaɪnd'hɑːtɪd]

adj.善心的;仁慈的

bill

[bɪl]

①帐单；清单;

jewel

['dʒuːəl]

n.宝石;受珍视的人或物

relic

['relɪk]

n.神圣的遗物;遗迹;纪念物

heap

[hiːp]

n.堆;许多;破车

behold

[bɪ'həʊld]

vt.看到;注视;领悟

revive

[rɪ'vaɪv]

vt.使重生;恢复精神;唤醒

Spain

[speɪn]

n. 西班牙【欧洲；首都马德里 Madrid】;

inmost

['ɪnməʊst]

adj.最内部的;最深处的

sash

[sæʃ]

n.饰带;肩带;腰带;窗框

hoard

[hɔːd]

n.贮藏

franc

[fræŋk]

n.法郎

commandment

[kə'mɑːndmənt]

n.诫命;诫律;指令

glitter

['ɡlɪtə(r)]

n.灿烂;闪烁;辉耀;亮片

solemn

['sɒləm]

adj.庄严的;严肃的;隆重的

Baron

['bærən]

n.【C】男爵(英国世袭的最低级的贵族爵位);巨头(尤指商界)

conjecture

[kən'dʒektʃə(r)]

n.推测;臆测

embroider

[ɪm'brɔɪdə(r)]

v.刺绣;镶边;装饰

robe

[rəʊb]

n.长袍

secrecy

['siːkrəsi]

n.秘密;保密;隐蔽

decree

[dɪ'kriː]

n.法令;判决

thereof

[ˌðeər'ɒv]

adv.由此;其;关于它的

espalier

[ɪ'spæliə(r)]

n.树墙;墙式树木

recess

[rɪ'ses]

n.休息;幽深处;凹缝;壁龛;放假

disposal

[dɪ'spəʊzl]

n.处理

tease

[tiːz]

n.揶揄者;戏弄

canon

['kænən]

n. (基督教或天主教) 教规;

grammatical

[ɡrə'mætɪkl]

adj.语法的;合乎文法的

Paris

['pærɪs]

n.巴黎;重楼(百合科植物);帕里斯(姓氏)

cuff

[kʌf]

n.袖口;手铐

Riches

['rɪtʃɪz]

n.财富;富有

repay

[rɪ'peɪ]

v.偿还;报答;还钱给

devotion

[dɪ'vəʊʃn]

n.虔诚;献身;奉献;热爱

heavenly

['hevnli]

adj.天上的;天国似的

invoice

['ɪnvɔɪs]

n.发货单;发票;货物

excel

[ɪk'sel]

vt.优于;超过

sooner

['suːnə]

adv. soon的比较级

enthusiastic

[ɪnˌθjuːzi'æstɪk]

adj.热心的;热情的;热烈的

snatch

[snætʃ]

n.抢夺;一阵;一点点

marrow

['mærəʊ]

n.骨髓

rattle

['rætl]

vi. 发出格吱声；呱哒响;

runaway

['rʌnəweɪ]

n.逃跑者;逃亡

deliberate

[dɪ'lɪbərət]

adj.深思熟虑的;故意的;从容不迫的

devour

[dɪ'vaʊə(r)]

v.吞食;毁灭;贪婪地阅读

stew

[stjuː]

n.炖汤;焖;烦恼

penny

['peni]

n.便士;【美】分

porter

['pɔːtə(r)]

n. 【英】守门人，门房(= doorman【美】);

receipt

[rɪ'siːt]

n.收据

lash

[læʃ]

n.鞭子;鞭打;睫毛;讽刺

cupidity

[kjuː'pɪdəti]

n.贪心;贪婪

Couture

[ku'tjʊə(r)]

n.女式时装;服装设计(师)或其服装店

echo

['ekəʊ]

①[C][U]回声；反响；共鸣;

mama

['mæmə]

n.母亲;妈妈

bleed

[bliːd]

v.流血;渗色;榨取;放掉(水或气体);给...抽血

heiress

['eəres]

n.女继承人

countess

['kaʊntəs]

n.女伯爵;伯爵夫人

fling

[flɪŋ]

vt. 投，抛，扔，掷;

wit

[wɪt]

n.智力;才智;机智;风趣

mathematical

[ˌmæθə'mætɪkl]

adj.数学的

mortar

['mɔːtə(r)]

n.迫击炮

robust

[rəʊ'bʌst]

adj.强健的

projectile

[prə'dʒektaɪl]

a. (适合)抛射的，发射的;

triple

['trɪpl]

adj.三倍的

brass

[brɑːs]

n.黄铜(制品);铜管(乐器)

masonry

['meɪsənri]

n.砖石建筑;石工行业

earthwork

['ɜːθwɜːk]

n.土方工程;土垒

explosive

[ɪk'spləʊsɪv]

adj.爆炸(性)的

phenomenon

[fə'nɒmɪnən]

n.现象

duplicate

['djuːplɪkət]

n.副本

swift

[swɪft]

adj.快的;迅速的;敏捷的

slinger

['slɪŋə]

n.投石者;吊物工人

armor

['ɑːmə]

n.盔甲;装甲

Intercourse

['ɪntəkɔːs]

n.交往;交流;性交

endeavor

[ɪn'devə]

n.尽力;努力

countryman

['kʌntrimən]

n.同胞;乡下人

temperament

['temprəmənt]

n.气质;性情

crown

[kraʊn]

n.王冠;王权;花冠

dissect

[dɪ'sekt]

v.解剖;切细;仔细研究;详细分析

flinch

[flɪntʃ]

v.畏缩;退缩;畏首畏尾

unseal

['ʌn'siːl]

vt.开封;开启

reckoning

['rekənɪŋ]

n.计算;算帐;账单,

sphinx

[sfɪŋks]

n.狮身人面像;谜一样的人

risen

['rɪzn]

adj.上升的;升起的,

staircase

['steəkeɪs]

n.楼梯

marquis

['mɑːkwɪs]

n.侯爵

lovingly

['lʌvɪŋli]

adv.钟情地;深情地

Victorine

['vɪktəriːn]

n.妇人用的一种皮围巾

portly

['pɔːtli]

adj.肥胖的;庄严的

artichoke

['ɑːtɪtʃəʊk]

n.洋蓟;朝鲜蓟;菊芋

clasp

[klɑːsp]

n.扣子;钩;紧握;握手

jeer

[dʒɪə(r)]

v.嘲弄;揶揄;奚落

ward

[wɔːd]

n.病房;行政区;监护;守卫;受监护人

spade

[speɪd]

n.铲子;铁锹

youngster

[ˈjʌŋstə]

n.青年 ,少年, 儿童

excite

[ɪk'saɪt]

vt.使兴奋;使激动;刺激;激起

misfortune

[ˌmɪs'fɔːtʃuːn]

n.不幸;灾祸

memoir

['memwɑː(r)]

n.传记;实录

Providence

['prɒvɪdəns]

n.天意;天命

mankind

[mæn'kaɪnd]

n.人类;男人

childish

['tʃaɪldɪʃ]

adj.孩子气的;幼稚的

utter

['ʌtə(r)]

adj.完全的;全然的;绝对的

folly

['fɒli]

n.愚蠢;荒唐事(复)follies: 轻松歌舞剧.

unbutton

[ˌʌn'bʌtn]

v.解开……的钮扣;如解开钮扣似地解开

reddish

['redɪʃ]

adj.略带红色的;微红的

startle

['stɑːtl]

v.(使)吃惊;(使)惊愕

rubbish

['rʌbɪʃ]

n.垃圾

Switzerland

['swɪtsələnd]

n.瑞士

revolt

[rɪ'vəʊlt]

n.叛乱;反抗;反感

obey

[ə'beɪ]

v.服从;遵守;顺从;听从

sway

[sweɪ]

v.摇动;摇摆;支配;影响;说服，使相信

baron

['bærən]

n.【C】男爵(英国世袭的最低级的贵族爵位);巨头(尤指商界)

warmer

['wɔːmə(r)]

n.取暖器;加热工人

galley

['ɡæli]

n.单层甲板大帆船;(船或飞机的)厨房;【印】活版盘

scrape

[skreɪp]

v.刮掉;擦掉

ghastly

['ɡɑːstli]

a. 可怕的;

verse

[vɜːs]

n.诗;韵文;诗节

Bark

[bɑːk]

v.(狗)吠;咆哮

provincial

[prə'vɪnʃl]

adj.省的;地方的;偏狭的

tribunal

[traɪ'bjuːnl]

n.法庭;法院;法官席;裁决

gown

[ɡaʊn]

n.长袍;长外衣

rhyme

[raɪm]

n.韵;押韵;韵文

elevate

['elɪveɪt]

vt.举起;提拔;素养提升;鼓舞

sicken

['sɪkən]

v.患病;生病;恶心;使厌倦

lick

[lɪk]

v.舔;轻拍;击败;掠过

exalt

[ɪɡ'zɔːlt]

v.赞扬;提升;加强

sniff

[snɪf]

vi. 用鼻子吸气;

sponge

[spʌndʒ]

n.海绵

aggregate

['æɡrɪɡət]

adj.合计的;总的

skillful

['skɪlfʊl]

adj.熟练的;灵巧的

scarce

[skeəs]

adj.缺乏的;不足的;稀少的;罕见的

carriage

['kærɪdʒ]

n.四轮马车

complication

[ˌkɒmplɪ'keɪʃn]

n.复杂;并发症;纠纷

fancy

['fænsi]

n. 【C】设想；幻想；空想;

dodge

[dɒdʒ]

v.避开;躲避

stake

[steɪk]

n.桩;赌注;利害关系

cleaner

['kliːnə(r)]

n.清洁工

reek

[riːk]

n.恶臭;水蒸汽

morality

[mə'ræləti]

n.道德;美德;品行;道德观

epoch

['iːpɒk]

n. 时期; 时代; 新纪元; 划时代的大事; 世

moralist

['mɒrəlɪst]

n.道德学家;卫道士

stricture

['strɪktʃə(r)]

n.苛评;非难;限制;【医】狭窄

Mankind

[mæn'kaɪnd]

n.人类;男人

simpleton

['sɪmpltən]

n.笨蛋;傻子

attentive

[ə'tentɪv]

adj.注意的;留意的

planter

['plɑːntə(r)]

n.种植者;耕作者;殖民者

monarch

['mɒnək]

n.帝王;君主

lath

[lɑːθ]

n.木板条

plaster

['plɑːstə(r)]

n.石膏;灰泥;膏药

Negro

['niːɡrəʊ]

adj.黑人的

hearty

['hɑːti]

adj.亲切友好的;衷心的;热烈的;丰盛的;健壮的(尤指老人)

cent

[sent]

n.分

darling

['dɑːlɪŋ]

n.亲爱的;可爱的人;可爱的物

notary

['nəʊtəri]

n.公证人;公证员

involuntary

[ɪn'vɒləntri]

adj.非自愿的;无意的;不由自主的

despair

[dɪ'speə(r)]

n.绝望;失望

lottery

['lɒtəri]

n.彩票

pebble

['pebl]

n.鹅卵石

Alfred

[ˈælfrɪd]

阿尔佛雷德(男子名)

Dial

['daɪəl]

1.v.拨号；2.n.标度盘;

acquaint

[ə'kweɪnt]

vt.使了解;使熟知;告知

savage

['sævɪdʒ]

a. 野蛮的，未开化的;

hunting

['hʌntɪŋ]

n.打猎;搜寻【电子学】速度偏差.

snare

[sneə(r)]

n.陷阱;诱惑;圈套;勒除器

lure

[lʊə(r)]

vt.诱惑;吸引

aristocracy

[ˌærɪ'stɒkrəsi]

n.贵族;贵族阶级

stretchable

[stretʃəbl]

可伸展的;可延伸的

comedian

[kə'miːdiən]

n.喜剧演员

injustice

[ɪn'dʒʌstɪs]

n.不公正;不公正的行为

colonel

['kɜːnl]

n.上校

invariable

[ɪn'veəriəbl]

adj.不变的;恒定的

despise

[dɪ'spaɪz]

vt.轻视

oath

[əʊθ]

n.誓言;誓约;咒骂语

laurel

['lɒrəl]

n.月桂树;荣誉

Jesus

['dʒiːzəs]

n.耶稣,杰西(男子名).

pick

[pɪkt]

采摘，挑选；

frightful

['fraɪtfl]

adj.可怕的;吓人的

amusement

[ə'mjuːzmənt]

n.乐趣，娱乐;消遣

flare

[fleə(r)]

n.闪光;闪光信号;【天】耀斑;(衣裙等)张开

aggravate

['æɡrəveɪt]

vt.恶化;严重

condemned

[kən'demd]

adj.被责难的;被宣告有罪的,

penal

['piːnl]

adj.刑罚的;刑事的;严重的

vein

[veɪn]

n.静脉;血管

weak-minded

['wiːk'maɪndɪd]

adj.优柔寡断的;低能的;懦怯的

scrupulous

['skruːpjələs]

adj.小心谨慎的;细心的;严谨的

unconcerned

[ˌʌnkən'sɜːnd]

adj.不关心的;不忧虑的

graceful

['ɡreɪsfl]

adj.优雅的;得体的

crude

[kruːd]

adj.天然的;未加工的;粗糙的

claw

[klɔː]

n.爪;钳;螯;爪状物

heroic

[hə'rəʊɪk]

adj.英雄的;英勇的;巨大的

virtuous

['vɜːtʃuəs]

adj.有品德的;有德行的;贞洁的

cloudless

['klaʊdləs]

adj.无云的;晴朗的

flatter

['flætə(r)]

v.奉承;恭维;取悦;显得好看

fawn

[fɔːn]

n.未满周岁的小鹿;浅黄褐色

nobly

['nəʊbli]

adv.崇高地;尊贵地

stainless

['steɪnlɪs]

adj.无污点的

rousing

['raʊzɪŋ]

adj.使奋起的;使感动的;使醒的,

musing

['mjuːzɪŋ]

n.沉思;冥想

Constance

['kɒnstəns]

n.康斯坦斯(女子名)

stratagem

['strætədʒəm]

n.战略;计谋

jealousy

['dʒeləsi]

n.妒忌

abyss

[ə'bɪs]

n.深渊;无底洞

entertain

[ˌentə'teɪn]

v.娱乐;使有兴趣;招待;考虑;抱有;容纳

atom

['ætəm]

n.原子

affinity

[ə'fɪnəti]

n.姻亲;密切关系;吸引力

winnow

['wɪnəʊ]

v.吹开糠皮;把挑出来;精选

instinctive

[ɪn'stɪŋktɪv]

adj.本能的;天性的;直觉的

kindly

['kaɪndli]

adj.和蔼的;温和的;爽快的

scarcely

['skeəsli]

adv.几乎不;简直不;刚刚;决不

Madame

['mædəm]

n.夫人

carcass

['kɑːkəs]

n.尸体;残骸;骨架;(人的)身躯

scruple

['skruːpl]

n.顾忌;迟疑

hover

['hɒvə(r)]

v.盘旋;徘徊;靠近(某事物)，维持在某种不确定的状态

ruby

['ruːbi]

adj.红宝石色的

shaft

[ʃɑːft]

n.轴;柄;竖井;杆状物;

throne

[θrəʊn]

n.王位;君主

dazzle

['dæzl]

v.使眼花;使赞许

engraving

[ɪn'ɡreɪvɪŋ]

n.雕刻的画;镌版术;雕版,

maiden

['meɪdn]

n.未婚女子;少女;断头机;从未赢过的赛马

lounge

[laʊndʒ]

n.休息室;候机室;起居室

Hitherto

[ˌhɪðə'tuː]

adv.到目前为止;迄今

curt

[kɜːt]

adj.(言语)简短失礼的;简短的; 草率的

customs

['kʌstəmz]

n.海关

varnish

['vɑːnɪʃ]

n.油漆;掩饰;光泽面;指甲油

plume

[pluːm]

n.羽毛;羽饰;羽状物

canopy

['kænəpi]

n.天篷;遮篷;苍穹

crest

[krest]

n.浪尖;冠;饰章;顶部

implicit

[ɪm'plɪsɪt]

adj.含蓄的;绝对的;无疑问的;固有的;无保留的;暗示的

subscribe

[səb'skraɪb]

vt.订阅;签名;支持;捐赠;同意

knit

[nɪt]

v.编织;密接;结合;皱眉

falter

['fɔːltə(r)]

vi.动摇;迟疑;支吾地说;蹒跚地走

dine

[daɪn]

v.用正餐;进餐

relent

[rɪ'lent]

v.变宽厚;变温和;动怜悯之心;缓和;(坏天气)变好

dissipate

['dɪsɪpeɪt]

v.驱散;消散;散去;浪费;挥霍;放荡

precipitate

[prɪ'sɪpɪteɪt]

vt. 猛抛；猛然扔下；使...突然陷入(某种形势或状态);

Restoration

[ˌrestə'reɪʃn]

n.恢复;归还;复位

supplement

['sʌplɪmənt]

n.增刊;补充物

spectacle

['spektəkl]

n.景象;场面;奇观;壮观;公开展示;表相，假相

supper

['sʌpə(r)]

n.晚饭

fortify

['fɔːtɪfaɪ]

v.加强;增强;筑防御工事于;(物质或精神上)支持或鼓励

monarchy

['mɒnəki]

n.君主政体;君主国;君主政治

completeness

[kəm'pliːtnəs]

n.完成;结束;完整;圆满

noiselessness

['nɔɪzləs]

adj.无声的;寂静的

loathing

['ləʊðɪŋ]

n.厌恶;憎恨,

vow

[vaʊ]

n.誓约

saucer

['sɔːsə(r)]

n.茶托;碟子

twinkle

['twɪŋkl]

vi.闪耀;闪烁;眨眼;轻快移动

comparative

[kəm'pærətɪv]

adj.比较的;相当的

misdemeanor

[ˌmɪsdɪ'miːnə]

n.轻罪;不正当的行为

tongue-tied

[tʌŋtaɪd]

adj.张口结舌的;结结巴巴的;讲不出话的

mistress

['mɪstrəs]

n.主妇;女主人;情妇

Vicomte

[viː'kɔːŋt]

n.子爵

petulantly

['petjulənt]

adj.暴躁的;任性的;难以取悦的

compromising

['kɒmprəmaɪzɪŋ]

adj.妥协的;损害名誉的;有失体面的,

Chateaubriand

[ʃætəʊbr'ɪænd]

n.大型牛排

whirl

[wɜːl]

vt. 使旋转;

theatre

[ˈθɪətə]

n.戏院,剧场,电影院

fairy

['feəri]

n.仙女;小精灵

marvelous

['mɑːvɪləs]

adj.令人惊异的;非凡的

eyelash

['aɪlæʃ]

n.睫毛

fidget

['fɪdʒɪt]

vt.使坐立不安

skirmish

['skɜːmɪʃ]

n.前哨战;小争斗;小冲突

Marquis

['mɑːkwɪs]

n.侯爵

muddle

['mʌdl]

n.混乱;糊涂

affectation

[ˌæfek'teɪʃn]

n.假装;虚饰;做作

forsake

[fə'seɪk]

v.放弃;断念;抛弃

passionate

['pæʃənət]

adj.热情的;激情的;易怒的

eagle

['iːɡl]

n.鹰

discretion

[dɪ'skreʃn]

n.谨慎;慎重;自行决定

Portuguese

[ˌpɔːtʃu'ɡiːz]

n.葡萄牙语;葡萄牙人

mock

[mɒk]

v.嘲弄;嘲笑;模仿

disguise

[dɪs'ɡaɪz]

vt.掩饰;假装;假扮

fortunate

['fɔːtʃənət]

adj.幸运的;侥幸的;带来幸运的

acquaintance

[ə'kweɪntəns]

n.熟人;相识;了解

insincere

[ˌɪnsɪn'sɪə(r)]

adj.不真诚的;虚伪的

confide

[kən'faɪd]

v.吐露;委托;信赖

rash

[ræʃ]

n.疹子;大量

filial

['fɪliəl]

adj.子女的;孝顺的

adore

[ə'dɔː(r)]

vt.爱慕;崇拜;很喜欢

gratify

['ɡrætɪfaɪ]

v.使满足;使高兴

monsieur

[mə'sjɜː]

n.(法语)先生

beginner

[bɪ'ɡɪnə(r)]

n.初学者;新手

surpass

[sə'pɑːs]

vt.超越;胜过

vibrate

[vaɪ'breɪt]

vt.(使)振动;(使)摇摆

Princesse

[prɪn'ses]

adj.公主装的

cunning

['kʌnɪŋ]

adj.狡猾的;有眼光的;精巧的;可爱的

rupture

['rʌptʃə(r)]

n.破裂;断裂;【医】疝气

rend

[rend]

v.撕破;分裂;劈开;强夺

recognizable

['rekəɡnaɪzəbl]

adj.可认识的;可辨别的;可承认的

faithless

['feɪθləs]

adj.不忠实的;不可信赖的;无信义的

scrutinize

['skruːtənaɪz]

v.仔细检查;细看

infer

[ɪn'fɜː(r)]

vt.推断;猜测;暗示

machinery

[mə'ʃiːnəri]

n.机械

blunt

[blʌnt]

adj.钝的;迟钝的;直率的

crucible

['kruːsɪbl]

n.柑锅;熔炉;严酷的考验

succession

[sək'seʃn]

n.连续;继承权;继位

deviation

[ˌdiːvi'eɪʃn]

n.偏离;出轨;背弃

intoxicate

[ɪn'tɒksɪkeɪt]

vt. 下毒; 使 ... 陶醉

sweetness

['swiːtnəs]

n.美味;芳香;甜美

unlock

[ˌʌn'lɒk]

v.开锁;开启;揭开;显露

wad

[wɒd]

n.填料;大量;一叠(钞票)

dusty

['dʌsti]

adj.满是灰尘的

basin

['beɪsn]

n.脸盆;水池

shaving

['ʃeɪvɪŋ]

n.剃须;修面;削片,

slab

[slæb]

n.厚板

grate

[ɡreɪt]

n.栅;壁炉

walnut

['wɔːlnʌt]

n.核桃;核桃木;核桃色;茶色

armchair

['ɑːmtʃeə(r)]

n.扶手椅;单人沙发;安乐椅

tester

['testə(r)]

n.测试员;测试器

bedclothes

['bedkləʊðz]

n.铺盖;床单被褥类

Baroness

['bærənəs]

n.男爵夫人;女男爵

errand

['erənd]

n.差使;差事;跑腿

miserable

['mɪzrəbl]

adj.痛苦的;悲惨的;贫乏的;狼狈的

pearl

[pɜːl]

n.珍珠

sincere

[sɪn'sɪə(r)]

adj.真诚的;诚挚的

resonance

['rezənəns]

n.共鸣;共振

aversion

[ə'vɜːʃn]

n.嫌恶;憎恨

affectionate

[ə'fekʃənət]

adj.充满感情的;示爱的

Turk

[tɜːk]

n.突厥人;土耳其人

catastrophe

[kə'tæstrəfi]

n.大灾难;大祸;彻底失败

casting

['kɑːstɪŋ]

n.铸造

lodger

['lɒdʒə(r)]

n.房客

dormant

['dɔːmənt]

adj.休眠的;睡眠的;静止的;潜伏的;匿名的;(动物等)冬眠的

involuntarily

[ɪn'vɒləntrəli]

adv.不知不觉地;无意识地

delicious

[dɪ'lɪʃəs]

adj.美味的;可口的

cock

[kɒk]

n.公鸡

halve

[hɑːv]

v.平分;减半

comfortably

['kʌmftəbli]

adv.舒服地;容易地;充裕地

undertone

['ʌndətəʊn]

n.低音;浅色;底色;潜在的含义

meditate

['medɪteɪt]

v.沉思;冥想;考虑;计划

torment

['tɔːment]

n.苦痛;拷问;折磨;烦恼

temptation

[temp'teɪʃn]

n.诱惑;引诱物

Rousseau

[ruːˈsəʊ]

n.1. 卢梭(法国思想家)

Pshaw

[pʃɔː]

int.表示不耐烦;轻蔑时的叫牲

paralytic

[ˌpærə'lɪtɪk]

adj.瘫痪的;麻痹的

knot

[nɒt]

n.结;节

plod

[plɒd]

v.沉重地走;辛勤工作;孜孜从事

circumference

[sə'kʌmfərəns]

n.圆周;周围;周长

chat

[tʃæt]

vi.闲谈;谈天

escort

['eskɔːt]

n.护送者;护航舰;陪伴者;陪游;妓女

sincereness

[sɪn'sɪə(r)]

adj.真诚的;诚挚的

dame

[deɪm]

n.夫人;女士

ignorance

['ɪɡnərəns]

n.无知;愚昧

constellation

[ˌkɒnstə'leɪʃən]

n.星座;星群

disposition

[ˌdɪspə'zɪʃn]

n.性情;倾向;安排;处置;控制;【计算机】 配置情况

disdainful

[dɪs'deɪnfl]

adj.鄙视的;不屑一顾的;轻蔑的

impatient

[ɪm'peɪʃnt]

adj.不耐烦的;急躁的

complexion

[kəm'plekʃn]

n.肤色;面色;体质;特性;局面

stubborn

['stʌbən]

adj.顽固的;倔强的;难对付的

lymphatic

[lɪm'fætɪk]

adj.淋巴的;淋巴性的;无力的

curl

[kɜːl]

n.卷曲;卷发;年轮;漩涡;【足】曲线球

complacent

[kəm'pleɪsnt]

adj.满足的;自满的;得意的

crease

[kriːs]

n.折痕;皱痕;(板球球手位置的)界限线

downstairs

[ˌdaʊn'steəz]

adj.楼下的

applause

[ə'plɔːz]

n.鼓掌;喝彩;赞许

compliment

['kɒmplɪmənt]

n.称赞;恭维;(复数)致意

compartment

[kəm'pɑːtmənt]

n.间隔;个别室;卧车包房

latest

['leɪtɪst]

adj.最近的;最新的

imitation

[ˌɪmɪ'teɪʃn]

n.模仿;效法

gruff

[ɡrʌf]

adj.粗鲁的;生硬的;粗糙的;粗哑的

knuckle

['nʌkl]

n.指关节;膝关节;肘形接头;铰链连接

Goodness

['ɡʊdnəs]

n.善良;美德;精华

outburst

['aʊtbɜːst]

n.爆发;突发;(感情)迸发

mosaic

[məʊ'zeɪɪk]

n.马赛克;镶嵌图案

arouse

[ə'raʊz]

v.叫醒;唤醒;激起;睡醒

pique

[piːk]

n.生气;愤怒

madame

['mædəm]

n.夫人

fetter

['fetə(r)]

v.为 ... 上脚镣;束缚;限制

mournful

['mɔːnfl]

adj.悲恸的;悲哀的;令人惋惜的

exquisite

[ɪk'skwɪzɪt]

adj.精挑细选的;精致的;细腻的;强烈的

cashmere

['kæʃmɪə(r)]

n.开士米;山羊绒;软毛织物

efface

[ɪ'feɪs]

v.擦掉;抹去;使(自己)不受人注意;忘却

agitation

[ˌædʒɪ'teɪʃn]

n.激动;鼓动;搅动

agony

['æɡəni]

n.极度的痛苦;挣扎

coachman

['kəʊtʃmən]

n.赶马车人

Blindly

['blaɪndli]

adv.摸索地;盲目地;蛮干地

tremulous

['tremjələs]

adj.颤抖的;胆小的;害怕的

inward

['ɪnwəd]

adj.内部的;内心的;向内的;亲密的

comer

['kʌmə(r)]

n.来者;有成功希望的人

rake

[reɪk]

n.耙子;耙状物

bystander

['baɪstændə(r)]

n.旁观者;看热闹的人;局外人

envious

['enviəs]

adj.嫉妒的

charitable

['tʃærətəbl]

adj.仁慈的;(为)慈善事业的;宽恕的

vile

[vaɪl]

adj.恶劣的;简陋的;低廉的

scorn

[skɔːn]

n.轻蔑;奚落;笑柄

hideous

['hɪdiəs]

adj.丑陋的;可怕的;可憎的;令人惊骇的

disgraceful

[dɪs'ɡreɪsfl]

adj.可耻的;不光彩的

utmost

['ʌtməʊst]

adj.极度的;最大限度的

foresee

[fɔː'siː]

v.预见;预知

eternal

[ɪ'tɜːnl]

adj.永久的;永恒的

raving

['reɪvɪŋ]

adj.胡说的;疯狂的;非凡的

weep

[wiːp]

v.流泪;哭泣;悲叹;渗出

soothe

[suːð]

v.缓和;使安静;安慰

console

[kən'səʊl]

vt.安慰;慰藉

incapable

[ɪn'keɪpəbl]

adj.无能力的;不胜任的

banknote

['bæŋknəʊt]

n.纸币

accomplice

[ə'kʌmplɪs]

n.共犯;同谋;帮凶

dread

[dred]

v.惧怕;担心

reenter

[ˌriː'entə]

v.重新进入

corrupt

[kə'rʌpt]

adj.腐败的;堕落的;讹误的

daze

[deɪz]

vt. 使 ... 茫然; 使 ... 眩目

splendor

['splendə]

n.光辉;壮丽;显赫;辉煌

spiteful

['spaɪtfl]

adj.恶意的;怀恨的

slander

['slɑːndə(r)]

n.中伤;诽谤

reproach

[rɪ'prəʊtʃ]

n.责备;耻辱

ingrate

[ɪn'greɪt]

adj.忘恩的;忘恩负义的

vex

[veks]

vt.使恼怒;使恼火;烦扰;使困惑

discontent

[ˌdɪskən'tent]

n.不满

dissatisfy

[dɪs'sætɪsfaɪ]

vt.使不满

lest

[lest]

conj.惟恐;以免;担心

waistcoat

['weɪskəʊt]

n.背心;马甲

idiot

['ɪdiət]

n.白痴;傻瓜;笨蛋

believer

[bɪ'liːvə(r)]

n.信徒;相信者

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