الفصل الفصل 51 · 第51章

“The next day I went to Delphine for comfort, and what should I do there

but make some stupid blunder that made her angry with me. I was like one

driven out of his senses. For a week I did not know what to do; I did

not dare to go to see them for fear they should reproach me. And that

was how they both turned me out of the house.

“Oh God! Thou knowest all the misery and anguish that I have endured;

Thou hast counted all the wounds that have been dealt to me in these

years that have aged and changed me and whitened my hair and drained my

life; why dost Thou make me to suffer so to-day? Have I not more than

expiated the sin of loving them too much? They themselves have been the

instruments of vengeance; they have tortured me for my sin of affection.

“Ah, well! fathers know no better; I loved them so; I went back to them

as a gambler goes to the gaming table. This love was my vice, you see,

my mistress--they were everything in the world to me. They were always

wanting something or other, dresses and ornaments, and what not; their

maids used to tell me what they wanted, and I used to give them the

things for the sake of the welcome that they bought for me. But, at

the same time, they used to give me little lectures on my behavior in

society; they began about it at once. Then they began to feel ashamed of

me. That is what comes of having your children well brought up. I could

not go to school again at my time of life. (This pain is fearful! _Mon

Dieu!_ These doctors! these doctors! If they would open my head, it

would give me some relief!) Oh, my daughters, my daughters! Anastasie!

Delphine! If I could only see them! Send for the police, and make them

come to me! Justice is on my side, the whole world is on my side, I have

natural rights, and the law with me. I protest! The country will go to

ruin if a father’s rights are trampled under foot. That is easy to see.

The whole world turns on fatherly love; fatherly love is the foundation

of society; it will crumble into ruin when children do not love their

fathers. Oh! if I could only see them, and hear them, no matter what

they said; if I could simply hear their voices, it would soothe the

pain. Delphine! Delphine most of all. But tell them when they come not

to look so coldly at me as they do. Oh! my friend, my good Monsieur

Eugene, you do not know that it is when all the golden light in a glance

suddenly turns to a leaden gray. It has been one long winter here since

the light in their eyes shone no more for me. I have had nothing but

disappointments to devour. Disappointment has been my daily bread; I

have lived on humiliation and insults. I have swallowed down all the

affronts for which they sold me my poor stealthy little moments of

joy; for I love them so! Think of it! a father hiding himself to get a

glimpse of his children! I have given all my life to them, and to-day

they will not give me one hour! I am hungering and thirsting for them,

my heart is burning in me, but they will not come to bring relief in the

agony, for I am dying now, I feel that this is death. Do they not know

what it means to trample on a father’s corpse? There is a God in heaven

who avenges us fathers whether we will or no.

“Oh! they will come! Come to me, darlings, and give me one more kiss;

one last kiss, the Viaticum for your father, who will pray God for you

in heaven. I will tell Him that you have been good children to your

father, and plead your cause with God! After all, it is not their fault.

I tell you they are innocent, my friend. Tell every one that it is not

their fault, and no one need be distressed on my account. It is all my

own fault, I taught them to trample upon me. I loved to have it so.

It is no one’s affair but mine; man’s justice and God’s justice have

nothing to do in it. God would be unjust if He condemned them for

anything they may have done to me. I did not behave to them properly;

I was stupid enough to resign my rights. I would have humbled myself in

the dust for them. What could you expect? The most beautiful nature, the

noblest soul, would have been spoiled by such indulgence. I am a wretch,

I am justly punished. I, and I only, am to blame for all their sins; I

spoiled them. To-day they are as eager for pleasure as they used to be

for sugar-plums. When they were little girls I indulged them in every

whim. They had a carriage of their own when they were fifteen. They

have never been crossed. I am guilty, and not they--but I sinned through

love.

“My heart would open at the sound of their voices. I can hear them; they

are coming. Yes! yes! they are coming. The law demands that they should

be present at their father’s deathbed; the law is on my side. It would

only cost them the hire of a cab. I would pay that. Write to them, tell

them that I have millions to leave to them! On my word of honor, yes. I

am going to manufacture Italian paste foods at Odessa. I understand the

trade. There are millions to be made in it. Nobody has thought of the

scheme as yet. You see, there will be no waste, no damage in transit,

as there always is with wheat and flour. Hey! hey! and starch too; there

are millions to be made in the starch trade! You will not be telling

a lie. Millions, tell them; and even if they really come because they

covet the money, I would rather let them deceive me; and I shall see

them in any case. I want my children! I gave them life; they are mine,

mine!” and he sat upright. The head thus raised, with its scanty white

hair, seemed to Eugene like a threat; every line that could still speak

spoke of menace.

“There, there, dear father,” said Eugene, “lie down again; I will write

to them at once. As soon as Bianchon comes back I will go for them

myself, if they do not come before.”

“If they do not come?” repeated the old man, sobbing. “Why, I shall

be dead before then; I shall die in a fit of rage, of rage! Anger is

getting the better of me. I can see my whole life at this minute. I have

been cheated! They do not love me--they have never loved me all their

lives! It is all clear to me. They have not come, and they will not

come. The longer they put off their coming, the less they are likely

to give me this joy. I know them. They have never cared to guess my

disappointments, my sorrows, my wants; they never cared to know my life;

they will have no presentiment of my death; they do not even know the

secret of my tenderness for them. Yes, I see it all now. I have laid my

heart open so often, that they take everything I do for them as a matter

of course. They might have asked me for the very eyes out of my head and

I would have bidden them to pluck them out. They think that all fathers

are like theirs. You should always make your value felt. Their own

children will avenge me. Why, for their own sakes they should come to

me! Make them understand that they are laying up retribution for their

own deathbeds. All crimes are summed up in this one.... Go to them; just

tell them that if they stay away it will be parricide! There is enough

laid to their charge already without adding that to the list. Cry aloud

as I do now, ‘Nasie! Delphine! here! Come to your father; the father who

has been so kind to you is lying ill!’--Not a sound; no one comes! Then

am I to die like a dog? This is to be my reward--I am forsaken at the

last. They are wicked, heartless women; curses on them, I loathe them.

I shall rise at night from my grave to curse them again; for, after all,

my friends, have I done wrong? They are behaving very badly to me, eh?

... What am I saying? Did you not tell me just now that Delphine is in

the room? She is more tender-hearted than her sister.... Eugene, you are

my son, you know. You will love her; be a father to her! Her sister is

very unhappy. And there are their fortunes! Ah, God! I am dying, this

anguish is almost more than I can bear! Cut off my head; leave me

nothing but my heart.”

“Christophe!” shouted Eugene, alarmed by the way in which the old man

moaned, and by his cries, “go for M. Bianchon, and send a cab here for

me.--I am going to fetch them, dear father; I will bring them back to

you.”

“Make them come! Compel them to come! Call out the Guard, the military,

anything and everything, but make them come!” He looked at Eugene, and a

last gleam of intelligence shone in his eyes. “Go to the authorities, to

the Public Prosecutor, let them bring them here; come they shall!”

“But you have cursed them.”

“Who said that!” said the old man in dull amazement. “You know quite

well that I love them, I adore them! I shall be quite well again if I

can see them.... Go for them, my good neighbor, my dear boy, you are

kind-hearted; I wish I could repay you for your kindness, but I have

nothing to give you now, save the blessing of a dying man. Ah! if I

could only see Delphine, to tell her to pay my debt to you. If the other

cannot come, bring Delphine to me at any rate. Tell her that unless she

comes, you will not love her any more. She is so fond of you that she

will come to me then. Give me something to drink! There is a fire in my

bowels. Press something against my forehead! If my daughters would lay

their hands there, I think I should get better. ... _Mon Dieu!_ who

will recover their money for them when I am gone?... I will manufacture

vermicelli out in Odessa; I will go to Odessa for their sakes.”

“Here is something to drink,” said Eugene, supporting the dying man on

his left arm, while he held a cup of tisane to Goriot’s lips.

“How you must love your own father and mother!” said the old man, and

grasped the student’s hand in both of his. It was a feeble, trembling

grasp. “I am going to die; I shall die without seeing my daughters; do

you understand? To be always thirsting, and never to drink; that

has been my life for the last ten years.... I have no daughters, my

sons-in-law killed them. No, since their marriages they have been

dead to me. Fathers should petition the Chambers to pass a law

against marriage. If you love your daughters, do not let them marry. A

son-in-law is a rascal who poisons a girl’s mind and contaminates

her whole nature. Let us have no more marriages! It robs us of our

daughters; we are left alone upon our deathbeds, and they are not with

us then. They ought to pass a law for dying fathers. This is awful! It

cries for vengeance! They cannot come, because my sons-in-law forbid

them!... Kill them!... Restaud and the Alsatian, kill them both! They

have murdered me between them!... Death or my daughters!... Ah! it is

too late, I am dying, and they are not here!... Dying without them!...

Nasie! Fifine! Why do you not come to me? Your papa is going----”