Червоне та чорне

The Torment of the Weak

           

           "What!ismydaughtertogobythenameofmadameSorel?What!ismydaughternottobeaduchess?"EachtimethatthesetwoideaspresentedthemselvesinalltheirclearnessM.delaMolewasapreytotorture,andlostallpoweroverthemovementsofhismind.

           Julienwasafraidofbeingbeaten.

           Inhislucidintervals,whenhewasbeginningtogetaccustomedtohisunhappiness,themarquisaddressedtoJulienreproacheswhichwerereasonableenough."Youshouldhavefled,sir,"hesaidtohim."Yourdutywastoflee.Youarethelowestofmen."

           Julienapproachedthetableandwrote:

           "Ihavefoundmylifeunbearableforalongtime;Iamputtinganendtoit.Irequestmonsieurthemarquistoacceptmyapologies(togetherwiththeexpressionofmyinfinitegratitude)foranyembarrassmentthatmaybeoccasionedbymydeathinhishôtel."

           "Kindlyrunyoureyeoverthispaper,M.themarquis,"saidJulien."Killme,orhavemekilledbyyourvalet.Itisoneo’clockinthemorning.Iwillgoandwalkinthegardeninthedirectionofthewallatthebottom."

           "Gotothedevil,"criedthemarquis,ashewentaway.

           "Iunderstand,"thoughtJulien."HewouldnotbesorryifIweretosparehisvaletthetroubleofkillingme....

           "Lethimkillme,ifhelikes;itisasatisfactionwhichIofferhim....But,byheaven,Ilovelife.Ioweittomyson."

           Thisidea,whichhadnotpreviouslypresenteditselfwithsomuchdefinitenesstohisimagination,completelyengrossedhimduringhiswalkafterthefirstfewminuteswhichhehadspentthinkingabouthisdanger.

           Thisnovelinterestturnedhimintoaprudentman.

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