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Gobseck-Part3_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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was sitting. Mlle. Fanny herself was a young Parisian girl, quietly

dressed, with a delicate fresh face, and a winning look. The



arrangement of her neatly brushed chestnut hair in a double curve on

her forehead lent a refined expression to blue eyes, clear as crystal.



The broad daylight streaming in through the short curtains against the

window pane fell with softened light on her girlish face. A pile of



shaped pieces of linen told me that she was a sempstress. She looked

like a spirit of solitude. When I held out the bill, I remarked that



she had not been at home when I called in the morning.

" ' "But the money was left with the porter's wife," said she.



" 'I pretended not to understand.

" ' "You go out early, mademoiselle, it seems."



" ' "I very seldom leave my room; but when you work all night, you are

obliged to take a bath sometimes."



" 'I looked at her. A glance told me all about her life. Here was a

girl condemned by misfortune to toil, a girl who came of honest farmer



folk, for she had still a freckle or two that told of country birth.

There was an indefinable atmosphere of goodness about her; I felt as



if I were breathing sincerity and frank innocence. It was refreshing

to my lungs. Poor innocent child, she had faith in something; there



was a crucifix and a sprig or two of green box above her poor little

painted wooden bedstead; I felt touched, or somewhat inclined that



way. I felt ready to offer to charge no more than twelve per cent, and

so give something towards establishing her in a good way of business.



" ' "But maybe she has a little youngster of a cousin," I said to

myself, "who would raise money on her signature and sponge on the poor



girl."

" 'So I went away, keeping my generous impulses well under control;



for I have frequently had occasion to observe that when benevolence

does no harm to him who gives it, it is the ruin of him who takes.



When you came in I was thinking that Fanny Malvaut would make a nice

little wife; I was thinking of the contrast between her pure, lonely



life and the life of the Countess--she has sunk as low as a bill of

exchange already, she will sink to the lowest depths of degradation



before she has done!'--I scrutinized him during the deep silence that

followed, but in a moment he spoke again. 'Well,' he said, 'do you



think that it is nothing to have this power of insight into the

deepest recesses of the human heart, to embrace so many lives, to see



the naked truth underlying it all? There are no two dramas alike:

there are hideous sores, deadly chagrins, love scenes, misery that



soon will lie under the ripples of the Seine, young men's joys that

lead to the scaffold, the laughter of despair, and sumptuous banquets.



Yesterday it was a tragedy. A worthy soul of a father drowned himself

because he could not support his family. To-morrow is a comedy; some



youngster will try to rehearse the scene of M. Dimanche, brought up to

date. You have heard the people extol the eloquence of our latter day



preachers; now and again I have wasted my time by going to hear them;

they produced a change in my opinions, but in my conduct (as somebody



said, I can't recollect his name), in my conduct--never!--Well, well;

these good priests and your Mirabeaus and Vergniauds and the rest of



them, are mere stammering beginners compared with these orators of

mine.



" 'Often it is some girl in love, some gray-headed merchant on the

verge of bankruptcy, some mother with a son's wrong-doing to conceal,



some starving artist, some great man whose influence is on the wane,

and, for lack of money, is like to lose the fruit of all his labors--



the power of their pleading has made me shudder. Sublime actors such

as these play for me, for an audience of one, and they cannot deceive



me. I can look into their inmost thoughts, and read them as God reads

them. Nothing is hidden from me. Nothing is refused to the holder of



the purse-strings to loose and to bind. I am rich enough to buy the

consciences of those who control the action of ministers, from their



office boys to their mistresses. Is not that power?--I can possess the

fairest women, receive their softest caresses; is not that Pleasure?



And is not your whole social economy summed up in terms of Power and

Pleasure?






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