GOBSECK
By Honore De Balzac
Translated By Ellen Marriage
DEDICATION
To M. le Baron Barchou de Penhoen.
Among all the pupils of the Oratorian school at Vendome, we are, I
think, the only two who have afterwards met in mid-career of a
life of letters--we who once were cultivating Philosophy when by
rights we should have been minding our De viris. When we met, you
were engaged upon your noble works on German philosophy, and I
upon this study. So neither of us has missed his vocation; and
you, when you see your name here, will feel, no doubt, as much
pleasure as he who inscribes his work to you.--Your old
schoolfellow,
1840 De Balzac.
GOBSECK
It was one o’clock in the morning, during the winter of 1829-30, but in
the Vicomtesse de Grandlieu’s salon two persons stayed on who did not
belong to her family circle. A young and good-looking man heard the
clock strike, and took his leave. When the courtyard echoed with the
sound of a departing carriage, the Vicomtesse looked up, saw that no one
was present save her brother and a friend of the family finishing their
game of piquet, and went across to her daughter. The girl, standing by
the chimney-piece, apparently examining a transparent fire-screen,
was listening to the sounds from the courtyard in a way that justified
certain maternal fears.
“Camille,” said the Vicomtesse, “if you continue to behave to young
Comte de Restaud as you have done this evening, you will oblige me to
see no more of him here. Listen, child, and if you have any confidence
in my love, let me guide you in life. At seventeen one cannot judge of
past or future, nor of certain social considerations. I have only one
thing to say to you. M. de Restaud has a mother, a mother who would
waste millions of francs; a woman of no birth, a Mlle. Goriot; people
talked a good deal about her at one time. She behaved so badly to her
own father, that she certainly does not deserve to have so good a son.
The young Count adores her, and maintains her in her position with
dutifulness worthy of all praise, and he is extremely good to his
brother and sister.--But however admirable _his_ behavior may be,” the
Vicomtesse added with a shrewd expression, “so long as his mother lives,
any family would take alarm at the idea of intrusting a daughter’s
fortune and future to young Restaud.”
“I overheard a word now and again in your talk with Mlle. de Grandlieu,”
cried the friend of the family, “and it made me anxious to put in a word
of my own.--I have won, M. le Comte,” he added, turning to his opponent.
“I shall throw you over and go to your niece’s assistance.”
“See what it is to have an attorney’s ears!” exclaimed the Vicomtesse.
“My dear Derville, how could you know what I was saying to Camille in a
whisper?”
“I knew it from your looks,” answered Derville, seating himself in a low
chair by the fire.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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