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The Hated Son-Part10_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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loved his Gabrielle as old men love their only child. His science and

his incessant care had given factitious life to this frail creature,



which he cultivated as a florist cultivates an exotic plant. He had

kept her hidden from all eyes on his estate of Forcalier, where she



was protected against the dangers of the time by the general good-will

felt for a man to whom all owed gratitude, and whose scientific powers



inspired in the ignorant minds of the country-people a superstitious

awe.



By attaching himself to the house of Herouville, Beauvouloir had

increased still further the immunity he enjoyed in the province, and



had thwarted all attempts of his enemies by means of his powerful

influence with the governor. He had taken care, however, in coming to



reside at the castle, not to bring with him the flower he cherished in

secret at Forcalier, a domain more important for its landed value than



for the house then upon it, but with which he expected to obtain for

his daughter an establishment in conformity with his views. While



promising the duke a posterity and requiring his master's word of

honor to approve his acts, he thought suddenly of Gabrielle, of that



sweet child whose mother had been neglected and forgotten by the duke

as he had also neglected and forgotten his son Etienne.



He awaited the departure of his master before putting his plan into

execution; foreseeing that, if the duke became aware of it, the



enormous difficulties in the way would be from the first

insurmountable.



Beauvouloir's house at Forcalier had a southern exposure on the slope

of one of those gentle hills which surround the vales of Normandy; a



thick wood shielded it from the north; high walls and Norman hedges

and deep ditches made the enclosure inviolable. The garden, descending



by an easy incline to the river which watered the valley, had a thick

double hedge at its foot, forming an natural embankment. Within this



double hedge wound a hidden path, led by the sinuosities of the

stream, which the willows, oaks, and beeches made as leafy as a



woodland glade. From the house to this natural rampart stretched a

mass of verdure peculiar to that rich soil; a beautiful green sheet



bordered by a fringe of rare trees, the tones of which formed a

tapestry of exquisite coloring: there, the silvery tints of a pine



stood forth against the darker green of several alders; here, before a

group of sturdy oaks a slenderpoplar lifted its palm-like figure,



ever swaying; farther on, the weeping willows drooped their pale

foliage between the stout, round-headed walnuts. This belt of trees



enabled the occupants of the house to go down at all hours to the

river-bank fearless of the rays of the sun.



The facade of the house, before which lay the yellow ribbon of a

gravelled terrace, was shaded by a woodengallery, around which



climbing plants were twining, and tossing in this month of May their

various blossoms into the very windows of the second floor. Without



being really vast, this garden seemed immense from the manner in which

its vistas were cut; points of view, cleverly contrived through the



rise and fall of the ground, married themselves, as it were, to those

of the valley, where the eye could rove at will. Following the



instincts of her thought, Gabrielle could either enter the solitude of

a narrow space, seeingnaught but the thick green and the blue of the



sky above the tree-tops, or she could hover above a glorious prospect,

letting her eyes follow those many-shaded green lines, from the



brilliant colors of the foreground to the pure tones of the horizon on

which they lost themselves, sometimes in the blue ocean of the



atmosphere, sometimes in the cumuli that floated above it.

Watched over by her grandmother and served by her former nurse,



Gabrielle Beauvouloir never left this modest home except for the

parish church, the steeple of which could be seen at the summit of the



hill, whither she was always accompanied by her grandmother, her

nurse, and her father's valet. She had reached the age of seventeen in



that sweet ignorance which the rarity of books allowed a girl to




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