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Father Goriot-Part6_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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Vicomtesse de Beauseant was one of the queens of fashion, that



her house was thought to be the pleasantest in the Faubourg

Saint-Germain. And not only so, she was, by right of her fortune,



and the name she bore, one of the most conspicuous figures in

that aristocratic world. Thanks to the aunt, thanks to Mme. de



Marcillac's letter of introduction, the poor student had been

kindly received in that house before he knew the extent of the



favor thus shown to him. It was almost like a patent of nobility

to be admitted to those gilded salons; he had appeared in the



most exclusivecircle in Paris, and now all doors were open for

him. Eugene had been dazzled at first by the brilliant assembly,



and had scarcely exchanged a few words with the Vicomtesse; he

had been content to single out a goddess among this throng of



Parisian divinities, one of those women who are sure to attract a

young man's fancy.



The Comtesse Anastasie de Restaud was tall and gracefully made;

she had one of the prettiest figures in Paris. Imagine a pair of



great dark eyes, a magnificently moulded hand, a shapely foot.

There was a fiery energy in her movements; the Marquis de



Ronquerolles had called her "a thoroughbred," "a pure pedigree,"

these figures of speech have replaced the "heavenly angel" and



Ossianic nomenclature; the old mythology of love is extinct,

doomed to perish by modern dandyism. But for Rastignac, Mme.



Anastasie de Restaud was the woman for whom he had sighed. He had

contrived to write his name twice upon the list of partners upon



her fan, and had snatched a few words with her during the first

quadrille.



"Where shall I meet you again, Madame?" he asked abruptly, and

the tones of his voice were full of the vehementenergy that



women like so well.

"Oh, everywhere!" said she, "in the Bois, at the Bouffons, in my



own house."

With the impetuosity of his adventurous southern temper, he did



all he could to cultivate an acquaintance with this lovely

countess, making the best of his opportunities in the quadrille



and during a waltz that she gave him. When he told her that he

was a cousin of Mme. de Beauseant's, the Countess, whom he took



for a great lady, asked him to call at her house, and after her

parting smile, Rastignac felt convinced that he must make this



visit. He was so lucky as to light upon some one who did not

laugh at his ignorance, a fatal defect among the gilded and



insolent youth of that period; the coterie of Maulincourts,

Maximes de Trailles, de Marsays, Ronquerolles, Ajuda-Pintos, and



Vandenesses who shone there in all the glory of coxcombry among

the best-dressed women of fashion in Paris--Lady Brandon, the



Duchesse de Langeais, the Comtesse de Kergarouet, Mme. de Serizy,

the Duchesse de Carigliano, the Comtesse Ferraud, Mme. de Lanty,



the Marquise d'Aiglemont, Mme. Firmiani, the Marquise de

Listomere and the Marquise d'Espard, the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse



and the Grandlieus. Luckily, therefore, for him, the novice

happened upon the Marquis de Montriveau, the lover of the



Duchesse de Langeais, a general as simple as a child; from him

Rastignac learned that the Comtesse lived in the Rue du Helder.



Ah, what it is to be young, eager to see the world, greedily on

the watch for any chance that brings you nearer the woman of your



dreams, and behold two houses open their doors to you! To set

foot in the Vicomtesse de Beauseant's house in the Faubourg



Saint-Germain; to fall on your knees before a Comtesse de Restaud

in the Chaussee d'Antin; to look at one glance across a vista of



Paris drawing-rooms, conscious that, possessing sufficient good

looks, you may hope to find aid and protection there in a



feminine heart! To feel ambitious enough to spurn the tight-rope

on which you must walk with the steady head of an acrobat for



whom a fall is impossible, and to find in a charming woman the

best of all balancing poles.



He sat there with his thoughts for a while, Law on the one hand,

and Poverty on the other, beholding a radiantvision of a woman



rise above the dull, smouldering fire. Who would not have paused

and questioned the future as Eugene was doing? who would not have



pictured it full of success? His wondering thoughts took wings;




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