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The Secrets of the Princesse de Cadignan-Part9_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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conversation Maxime de Trailles was saying:--

"With Diane, depravity is not an effect but a cause; perhaps she owes



that cause to her exquisite nature; she doesn't invent, she makes no

effort, she offers you the choicest refinements as the inspiration of



a spontaneous and naive love; and it is absolutely impossible not to

believe her."



This speech, which seemed to have been prepared for a man of

d'Arthez's stamp, was so tremendous an arraignment that the company



appeared to accept it as a conclusion. No one said more; the princess

was crushed. D'Arthez looked straight at de Trailles and then at



d'Esgrignon with a sarcastic air, and said:--

"The greatest fault of that woman is that she has followed in the wake



of men. She squanders patrimonies as they do; she drives her lovers to

usurers; she pockets "dots"; she ruins orphans; she inspires, possibly



she commits, crimes, but--"

Never had the two men, whom d'Arthez was chiefly addressing, listened



to such plain talk. At that BUT the whole table was startled, every

one paused, fork in air, their eyes fixed alternately on the brave



author and on the assailants of the princess, awaiting the conclusion

of that horrible silence.



"But," said d'Arthez, with sarcastic airiness, "Madame la Princesse de

Cadignan has one advantage over men: when they have put themselves in



danger for her sake, she saves them, and says no harm of any one.

Among the multitude, why shouldn't there be one woman who amuses



herself with men as men amuse themselves with women? Why not allow the

fair sex to take, from time to time, its revenge?"



"Genius is stronger than wit," said Blondet to Nathan.

This broadside of sarcasms was in fact the discharge of a battery of



cannons against a platoon of musketry. When coffee was served, Blondet

and Nathan went up to d'Arthez with an eagerness no one else dared to



imitate, so unable were the rest of the company to show the admiration

his conduct inspired from the fear of making two powerful enemies.



"This is not the first time we have seen that your character equals

your talent in grandeur," said Blondet. "You behaved just now more



like a demi-god than a man. Not to have been carried away by your

heart or your imagination, not to have taken up the defence of a



beloved woman--a fault they were enticing you to commit, because it

would have given those men of society eaten up with jealousy of your



literary fame a triumph over you--ah! give me leave to say you have

attained the height of private statesmanship."



"Yes, you are a statesman," said Nathan. "It is as clever as it is

difficult to avenge a woman without defending her."



"The princess is one of those heroines of the legitimist party, and it

is the duty of all men of honor to protect her quand meme," replied



d'Arthez, coldly. "What she has done for the cause of her masters

would excuse all follies."



"He keeps his own counsel!" said Nathan to Blondet.

"Precisely as if the princess were worth it," said Rastignac, joining



the other two.

D'Arthez went to the princess, who was awaiting him with the keenest



anxiety. The result of this experiment, which Diane had herself

brought about, might be fatal to her. For the first time in her life



this woman suffered in her heart. She knew not what she should do in

case d'Arthez believed the world which spoke the truth, instead of



believing her who lied; for never had so noble a nature, so complete a

man, a soul so pure, a conscience so ingenuous come beneath her hand.



Though she had told him cruel lies she was driven to do so by the

desire of knowing a true love. That love--she felt it dawning in her



heart; yes, she loved d'Arthez; and now she was condemned forever to

deceive him! She must henceforth remain to him the actress who had



played that comedy to blind his eyes.

When she heard Daniel's step in the dining-room a violentcommotion, a



shudder which reached to her very vitals came over her. That

convulsion, never felt during all the years of her adventurous



existence, told her that she had staked her happiness on this issue.

Her eyes, gazing into space, took in the whole of d'Arthez's person;



their light poured through his flesh, she read his soul; suspicion had

not so much as touched him with its bat's-wing. The terrible emotion



of that fear then came to its reaction; joy almost stifled her; for

there is no human being who is not more able to endure grief than to






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