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

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yawns; but he bore with the Romantics with a patience hardly to be

expected of a man of the Imperial school, who scarcely could make out



what the young writers meant. Not so Mme. de Bargeton; she waxed

enthusiastic over the renaissance, due to the return of the Bourbon



Lilies; she loved M. de Chateaubriand for calling Victor Hugo "a

sublime child." It depressed her that she could only know genius from



afar, she sighed for Paris, where great men live. For these reasons M.

du Chatelet thought he had done a wonderfully clever thing when he



told the lady that at that moment in Angouleme there was "another

sublime child," a young poet, a rising star whose glory surpassed the



whole Parisian galaxy, though he knew it not. A great man of the

future had been born in L'Houmeau! The headmaster of the school had



shown the Baron some admirable verses. The poor and humble lad was a

second Chatterton, with none of the political baseness and ferocious



hatred of the great ones of earth that led his English prototype to

turn pamphleteer and revile his benefactors. Mme. de Bargeton in her



little circle of five or six persons, who were supposed to share her

tastes for art and letters, because this one scraped a fiddle, and



that splashed sheets of white paper, more or less, with sepia, and the

other was president of a local agricultural society, or was gifted



with a bass voice that rendered Se fiato in corpo like a war whoop--

Mme. de Bargeton amid these grotesque figures was like a famished



actor set down to a stage dinner of pasteboard. No words, therefore,

can describe her joy at these tidings. She must see this poet, this



angel! She raved about him, went into raptures, talked of him for

whole hours together. Before two days were out the sometimediplomatic



courier had negotiated (through the headmaster) for Lucien's

appearance in the Hotel de Bargeton.



Poor helots of the provinces, for whom the distances between class and

class are so far greater than for the Parisian (for whom, indeed,



these distances visibly lessen day by day); souls so grievously

oppressed by the social barriers behind which all sorts and conditions



of men sit crying Raca! with mutual anathemas--you, and you alone,

will fully comprehend the ferment in Lucien's heart and brain, when



his awe-inspiring headmaster told him that the great gates of the

Hotel de Bargeton would shortly open and turn upon their hinges at his



fame! Lucien and David, walking together of an evening in the

Promenade de Beaulieu, had looked up at the house with the old-



fashioned gables, and wondered whether their names would ever so much

as reach ears inexorably deaf to knowledge that came from a lowly



origin; and now he (Lucien) was to be made welcome there!

No one except his sister was in the secret. Eve, like the thrifty



housekeeper and divinemagician that she was, conjured up a few louis

d'or from her savings to buy thin shoes for Lucien of the best



shoemaker in Angouleme, and an entirely new suit of clothes from the

most renownedtailor. She made a frill for his best shirt, and washed



and pleated it with her own hands. And how pleased she was to see him

so dressed! How proud she felt of her brother, and what quantities of



advice she gave him! Her intuition foresaw countless foolish fears.

Lucien had a habit of resting his elbows on the table when he was in



deep thought; he would even go so far as to draw a table nearer to

lean upon it; Eve told him that he must not forget himself in those



aristocratic precincts.

She went with him as far as St. Peter's Gate, and when they were



almost opposite the cathedral she stopped, and watched him pass down

the Rue de Beaulieu to the Promenade, where M. du Chatelet was waiting



for him. And after he was out of sight, she still stood there, poor

girl! in a great tremor of emotion, as though some great thing had



happened to them. Lucien in Mme. de Bargeton's house!--for Eve it

meant the dawn of success. The innocent creature did not suspect that



where ambition begins, ingenuous feeling ends.

Externals in the Rue du Minage gave Lucien no sense of surprise. This



palace, that loomed so large in his imagination, was a house built of




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