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"Even in 1827 I have known him without a penny," said Blondet.

"Oh! in 1827," said Bixiou.



"Well," resumed Finot, "yet to-day, as we see, he is in a fair way to

be a Minister, a peer of France--anything that he likes. He broke



decently with Delphine three years ago; he will not marry except on

good grounds; and he may marry a girl of noble family. The chap had



the sense to take up with a wealthy woman."

"My friends, give him the benefit of extenuating circumstances," urged



Blondet. "When he escaped the clutches of want, he dropped into the

claws of a very clever man."



"You know what Nucingen is," said Bixiou. "In the early days, Delphine

and Rastignac thought him 'good-natured'; he seemed to regard a wife



as a plaything, an ornament in his house. And that very fact showed me

that the man was square at the base as well as in height," added



Bixiou. "Nucingen makes no bones about admitting that his wife is his

fortune; she is an indispensable chattel, but a wife takes a second



place in the high-pressure life of a political leader and great

capitalist. He once said in my hearing that Bonaparte had blundered



like a bourgeois in his early relations with Josephine; and that after

he had had the spirit to use her as a stepping-stone, he had made



himself ridiculous by trying to make a companion of her."

"Any man of unusual powers is bound to take Oriental views of women,"



said Blondet.

"The Baron blended the opinions of East and West in a charming



Parisian creed. He abhorred de Marsay; de Marsay was unmanageable, but

with Rastignac he was much pleased; he exploited him, though Rastignac



was not aware of it. All the burdens of married life were put on him.

Rastignac bore the brunt of Delphine's whims; he escorted her to the



Bois de Boulogne; he went with her to the play; and the little

politician and great man of to-day spent a good deal of his life at



that time in writingdainty notes. Eugene was scolded for little

nothings from the first; he was in good spirits when Delphine was



cheerful, and drooped when she felt low; he bore the weight of her

confidences and her ailments; he gave up his time, the hours of his



precious youth, to fill the empty void of that fair Parisian's

idleness. Delphine and he held high councils on the toilettes which



went best together; he stood the fire of bad temper and broadsides of

pouting fits, while she, by way of trimming the balance, was very nice



to the Baron. As for the Baron, he laughed in his sleeve; but whenever

he saw that Rastignac was bending under the strain of the burden, he



made 'as if he suspected something,' and reunited the lovers by a

common dread."



"I can imagine that a wealthy wife would have put Rastignac in the way

of a living, and an honorable living, but where did he pick up his



fortune?" asked Couture. "A fortune so considerable as his at the

present day must come from somewhere; and nobody ever accused him of



inventing a good stroke of business."

"Somebody left it to him," said Finot.



"Who?" asked Blondet.

"Some fool that he came across," suggested Couture.



"He did not steal the whole of it, my little dears," said Bixiou.

"Let not your terrors rise to fever-heat,



Our age is lenient with those who cheat.

Now, I will tell you about the beginnings of his fortune. In the



first place, honor to talent! Our friend is not a 'chap,' as Finot

describes him, but a gentleman in the English sense, who knows the



cards and knows the game; whom, moreover, the gallery respects.

Rastignac has quite as much intelligence as is needed at a given



moment, as if a soldier should make his courage payable at ninety

days' sight, with three witnesses and guarantees. He may seem



captious, wrong-headed, inconsequent, vacillating, and without any

fixed opinions; but let something serious turn up, some combination to



scheme out, he will not scatter himself like Blondet here, who chooses

these occasions to look at things from his neighbor's point of view.



Rastignac concentrates himself, pulls himself together, looks for the

point to carry by storm, and goes full tilt for it. He charges like a



Murat, breaks squares, pounds away at shareholders, promoters, and the

whole shop, and returns, when the breach is made, to his lazy,



careless life. Once more he becomes the man of the South, the man of

pleasure, the trifling, idle Rastignac. He has earned the right of






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