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Gobseck-Part8_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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every grain of sand.

"The strictest censor could not but recognize that the Countess pushed



maternal sentiment to the last degree. Her father's death had been a

lesson to her, people said. She worshiped her children. They were so



young that she could hide the disorders of her life from their eyes,

and could win their love; she had given them the best and most



brilliant education. I confess that I cannot help admiring her and

feeling sorry for her. Gobseck used to joke me about it. Just about



that time she had discovered Maxime's baseness, and was expiating the

sins of the past in tears of blood. I was sure of it. Hateful as were



the measures which she took for regaining control of her husband's

money, were they not the result of a mother's love, and a desire to



repair the wrongs she had done her children? And again, it may be,

like many a woman who has experienced the storm of lawless love, she



felt a longing to lead a virtuous life again. Perhaps she only learned

the worth of that life when she came to reap the woeful harvest sown



by her errors.

"Every time that little Ernest came out of his father's room, she put



him through a searching examination as to all that his father had done

or said. The boy willingly complied with his mother's wishes, and told



her even more than she asked in her anxiousaffection, as he thought.

"My visit was a ray of light for the Countess. She was determined to



see in me the instrument of the Count's vengeance, and resolved that I

should not be allowed to go near the dying man. I augured ill of all



this, and earnestly wished for an interview, for I was not easy in my

mind about the fate of the counter-deed. If it should fall into the



Countess' hands, she might turn it to her own account, and that would

be the beginning of a series of interminable lawsuits between her and



Gobseck. I knew the usurer well enough to feel convinced that he would

never give up the property to her; there was room for plenty of legal



quibbling over a series of transfers, and I alone knew all the ins and

outs of the matter. I was minded to prevent such a tissue of



misfortune, so I went to the Countess a second time.

"I have noticed, madame," said Derville, turning to the Vicomtesse,



and speaking in a confidential tone, "certain moral phenomena to which

we do not pay enough attention. I am naturally an observer of human



nature, and instinctively I bring a spirit of analysis to the business

that I transact in the interest of others, when human passions are



called into lively play. Now, I have often noticed, and always with

new wonder, that two antagonists almost always divine each other's



inmost thoughts and ideas. Two enemies sometimes possess a power of

clear insight into mental processes, and read each other's minds as



two lovers read in either soul. So when we came together, the Countess

and I, I understood at once the reason of her antipathy for me,



disguised though it was by the most gracious forms of politeness and

civility. I had been forced to be her confidant, and a woman cannot



but hate the man before whom she is compelled to blush. And she on her

side knew that if I was the man in whom her husband placed confidence,



that husband had not as yet given up his fortune.

"I will spare you the conversation, but it abides in my memory as one



of the most dangerous encounters in my career. Nature had bestowed on

her all the qualities which, combined, are irresistibly fascinating;



she could be pliant and proud by turns, and confiding and coaxing in

her manner; she even went so far as to try to subjugate me. It was a



failure. As I took my leave of her, I caught a gleam of hate and rage

in her eyes that made me shudder. We parted enemies. She would fain



have crushed me out of existence; and for my own part, I felt pity for

her, and for some natures pity is the deadliest of insults. This



feeling pervaded the last representations I put before her; and when I

left her, I left, I think, dread in the depths of her soul, by



declaring that, turn which way she would, ruin lay inevitably before

her.



" 'If I were to see M. le Comte, your children's property at any rate

would----'



" 'I should be at your mercy,' she said, breaking in upon me, disgust

in her gesture.



"Now that we had spokenfrankly, I made up my mind to save the family




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