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Father Goriot-Part17_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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"You have a kind mother," said Mme. Couture.



"You have a kind mother, sir," echoed Poiret.

"Yes, mamma has been drained dry," said Vautrin, "and now you can



have your fling, 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 don't neglect your pistol

practice."



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.

"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 Eugene came in from



calling on Mme. de Beauseant, 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.



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 an impressible nature,

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 something of the powder-magazine

order; the least shock sufficed to bring about an explosion. He



was too quick, too young, not to be readilyaccessible 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 mentalvision; 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.

In the past month Eugene'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.



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. Eugene, conscious of that money in his

pocket, grew rebellious.



"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.



"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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