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The Magic Skin-Part26_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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certain sort of reputationattaching to me. But Foedora's hold upon



her victim was not relaxed. We often met. I compelled her admirers to

sound my name in her ears, by dint of astonishing them with my



cleverness and success, with my horses and equipages. It all found her

impassive and uninterested; so did an ugly phrase of Rastignac's, 'He



is killing himself for you.'

"I charged the world at large with my revenge, but I was not happy.



While I was fathoming the miry depths of life, I only recognized the

more keenly at all times the happiness of reciprocal affection; it was



a shadow that I followed through all that befell me in my

extravagance, and in my wildest moments. It was my misfortune to be



deceived in my fairest beliefs, to be punished by ingratitude for

benefiting others, and to receive uncounted pleasures as the reward of



my errors--a sinisterdoctrine, but a true one for the prodigal!

"The contagious leprosy of Foedora's vanity had taken hold of me at



last. I probed my soul, and found it cankered and rotten. I bore the

marks of the devil's claw upon my forehead. It was impossible to me



thenceforward to do without the incessantagitation of a life fraught

with danger at every moment, or to dispense with the execrable



refinements of luxury. If I had possessed millions, I should still

have gambled, reveled, and racketed about. I wished never to be alone



with myself, and I must have false friends and courtesans, wine and

good cheer to distract me. The ties that attach a man to family life



had been permanently broken for me. I had become a galley-slave of

pleasure, and must accomplish my destiny of suicide. During the last



days of my prosperity, I spent every night in the most incredible

excesses; but every morning death cast me back upon life again. I



would have taken a conflagration with as little concern as any man

with a life annuity. However, I at last found myself alone with a



twenty-franc piece; I bethought me then of Rastignac's luck----

"Eh, eh!----" Raphael exclaimed, interrupting himself, as he



remembered the talisman and drew it from his pocket. Perhaps he was

wearied by the long day's strain, and had no more strength left



wherewith to pilot his head through the seas of wine and punch; or

perhaps, exasperated by this symbol of his own existence, the torrent



of his own eloquence gradually overwhelmed him. Raphael became excited

and elated and like one completely deprived of reason.



"The devil take death!" he shouted, brandishing the skin; "I mean to

live! I am rich, I have every virtue; nothing will withstand me. Who



would not be generous, when everything is in his power? Aha! Aha! I

wished for two hundred thousand livres a year, and I shall have them.



Bow down before me, all of you, wallowing on the carpets like swine in

the mire! You all belong to me--a precious property truly! I am rich;



I could buy you all, even the deputy snoring over there. Scum of

society, give me your benediction! I am the Pope."



Raphael's vociferations had been hitherto drowned by a thorough-bass

of snores, but now they became suddenly audible. Most of the sleepers



started up with a cry, saw the cause of the disturbance on his feet,

tottering uncertainly, and cursed him in concert for a drunken



brawler.

"Silence!" shouted Raphael. "Back to your kennels, you dogs! Emile, I



have riches, I will give you Havana cigars!"

"I am listening," the poet replied. "Death or Foedora! On with you!



That silky Foedora deceived you. Women are all daughters of Eve. There

is nothing dramatic about that rigmarole of yours."



"Ah, but you were sleeping, slyboots."

"No--'Death or Foedora!'--I have it!"



"Wake up!" Raphael shouted, beating Emile with the piece of shagreen

as if he meant to draw electric fluid out of it.



"TONNERRE!" said Emile, springing up and flinging his arms round

Raphael; "my friend, remember the sort of women you are with."



"I am a millionaire!"




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