GORIOT. Happy faces be danged! I want to marry my daater; I want your son. But who be this? I don't know, and you don't know, and he don't know. He may be anybody; by Jarge, he may be nobody! (_Exclamations._) CURATE. The situation is crepuscular. ERNESTINE. Father, and Mr. Dumont (and you, too, Charles), I wish to say one word. You gave us leave to fall in love; we fell in love; and as for me, my father, I will either marry Charles or die a maid. CHARLES. And you, sir, would you rob me in one day of both a father and a wife? DUMONT (_weeping_). Happy faces, happy faces! GORIOT. I know nothing about robbery; but she cannot marry without my consent, and that she cannot get. DUMONT. O dear, O dear! \ | ALINE. What, spoil the wedding? | > _Together._ ERNESTINE. O father! | | CHARLES. Sir, sir, you would not---- / GORIOT (_exasperated_). I wun't, and what's more I shan't. NOTARY. I donno if I make myself clear. DUMONT. Goriot, do let's have happy faces! GORIOT. Fudge! Fudge!! Fudge!!! CURATE. Possibly on application to this conscientious jurist, light may be obtained. ALL. The Notary; yes, yes; the Notary! DUMONT. Now, how about this marriage? NOTARY. Marriage is a contract, to which there are two constracting parties, John Doe and Richard Roe. I donno if I make myself clear? ALINE. Poor lamb! CURATE. Silence, my friend; you will expose yourself to misconstruction. MACAIRE (_taking the stage_). As an entire stranger in this painful scene, will you permit a gentleman and a traveller to interject one word? There sits the young man, full, I am sure, of pleasing qualities; here the young maiden, by her own confession bashfully consenting to the match; there sits that dear old gentleman, a lover of bright faces like myself, his own now dimmed with sorrow; and here--(may I be allowed to add?)--here sits this noble Roman, a father like myself, and like myself the slave of duty. Last you have me--Baron Henri-Frederic de Latour de Main de la Tonnerre de Brest, the man of the world and the man of delicacy. I find you all--permit me the expression--gravelled. A marriage and an obstacle. Now, what is marriage? The union of two souls, and, what is possibly more romantic, the fusion of two dowries. What is an obstacle? the devil. And this obstacle? to me, as a man of family, the obstacle seems grave; but to me, as a man and a brother, what is it but a word? O my friend (_to GORIOT_), you whom I single out as the victim of the same noble failings with myself of pride of birth, of pride of honesty--O my friend, reflect. Go now apart with your dishevelled daughter, your tearful son-in-law, and let their plaints constrain you. Believe me, when you come to die, you will recall with pride this amiable weakness.