old man goriot

Chapter 35: Father's Death (7)
"Sir," the Count de Resto took up the conversation and said to him coldly, "you can probably see that I don't like Monsieur Goriot. The misfortune of life. I regard him as an enemy to my peace. Whether he lives or dies, I care nothing at all. That is how I see him. The world can blame me, I don't care about public opinion. I am now It's too important to worry about what fools and fools will think of me in the future. As for Madame de Resto, she can't go out now. Besides, I don't want her to leave the house now. Please tell me Her father, as long as she has an explanation to me and my child, she will go to see him. If she loves her father, she can go out soon... "

"Mr. Earl, you are your wife's head of household, and I have no right to judge your conduct; but I can trust you to be aboveboard? Well! Please promise me only one thing, that is, to tell her that her father is alive. It's only been a day, because I can't see her in front of the bed, I have already cursed her!"

Eugene's tone was full of righteous indignation, and Mr. de Resto couldn't help being shocked, and then he took up the conversation and said: "Then you can tell her yourself."

Led by the count, Rastignac walked into the living room where the countess usually sat. Seeing that the lady was buried in the easy chair like a tearful child, like a woman in pain, he couldn't bear it.Before she looked at Rastignac, she looked timidly at her husband, and the expression in her eyes showed that she was completely exhausted under the tyrannical oppression of spirit and body.The count nodded before she thought she could speak.

"I have heard, sir. Tell my father, if he knows where I am, he will forgive me. I did not expect to be subjected to this torture. I cannot help it, sir, but I will resist it to the end." she said to her husband. "I have children too. Please tell my father that, whatever it may seem, I have a clear conscience toward him," she cried desperately to the student.

Eugene could imagine the terrible difficulties this woman was facing, so he said goodbye to the couple and walked out in a daze.From M. de Resto's tone, he knew that his efforts were in vain, and that Anastasia had lost her freedom.He rushed to Madame de Nucingen's again and found her still in bed.

"I'm not feeling well, poor friend," she said. "I've caught a cold from the ball, and I'm afraid it may be pneumonia, and I'm waiting for the doctor to come. . . . "

"Even if death is at your side," Eugene interrupted her, "you will crawl up to your father. He is calling for you! You will hear his call, however softly, You won't feel sick anymore."

"Eugene, my father's illness may not be so serious as you say; but if I should be wronged in your eyes, it will be very painful; I will do what you want me to do. He Well, I know, if I go out this trip and make a serious illness, he will die of grief. Well, I will go when the doctor comes. Why! Why is your watch gone?" she asked without seeing the chain. road.Eugene blushed. "Eugene! Eugene, if you've sold it and lost it... Oh! That's not good."

The college student leaned over Danfina's bed and whispered in her ear: "Do you want to know? Well, I'll let you know! Your father can't even afford a shroud for tonight. You The watch that was given to me was pawned, because I have no money left."

But Finer jumped out of bed, ran to the desk, seized the purse and handed it to Rastignac; rang the bell, and cried: "I'll go, Eugene. Let me get dressed; I'm almost Beast! You go, I will arrive before you!" She called out to the maid again: "Therese, please come up immediately, sir, I have something to say."

Eugene was very glad that he could tell the dying old man that a daughter would come; so he returned to the Rue Neuve Saint-Geneviève almost proudly.He fumbled in the purse so he could send the fare right away.Who knows, such a rich and powerful young woman has only seventy francs in her purse.Going upstairs, he saw Bianxun supporting the old man Gao, the surgeon in the hospital was treating the patient, and the physician was watching.What he was given was back moxibustion, which was the last resort in medicine, and it was useless.

"Do you feel this moxibustion?" the physician asked.

Old man Gao vaguely saw the college student, and said irrelevantly:

"They're coming, aren't they?"

"There is still a turning point," said the surgeon, "he has spoken."

Eugene replied to the old man: "Yes, but Finer will arrive later."

"Hi!" Bianchon said, "He also spoke just now, talking about his daughters, calling them all the time, as if someone had been tortured, and it is said that he asked for water..."

"Don't do it," said the physician to the surgeon. "It's gone. He's gone."

Bianxun and the surgeon put the dying patient flat on the stinky shabby bed again.

"He must be changed," said the physician. "Although there is no hope, respect his personality. I will come again, Bi Anxun," he said to the college student, "If he wants to hum again, just rub some opium on his diaphragm."

Both doctors and surgeons went out.

"Come on, Eugene, take courage, young man!" said Bianchon to Rastignac, when the room was empty, "that is, put him in a white shirt and change the sheets on the bed. You go ask Sylvie to bring up the list and help us."

Eugene came downstairs and saw Madame Vauquer busy setting the knife and fork with Sylvie.As soon as Rastignac had finished speaking, the widow approached, putting on a half-smile, like a suspicious businessman who would neither lose money nor offend his customers.

"My dear Monsieur Eugene," she resumed, "you know as well as I do that old Goriot has no more money. It would be a waste to give a bedsheet to a man who is rolling his eyes, and at the same time sacrifice one." Burial shrouds. So you owe me 140 four francs, plus forty francs sheets, and other odds and ends, and the candles that Sylvie will give you later, total at least two hundred francs; I am a poor widow I can't afford it. Good God! You must be fair, Monsieur Eugene, I have lost enough in the past five days since the bad luck came to my door. I should have paid thirty francs for that fellow's first few days. God walks, as you say. This kind of thing is irritating to my guests. For less money, I'd rather send him to the hospital. Anyway, put yourself in my place. My apartment matters, it's mine , is my lifeblood."

Eugene hurried upstairs and returned to the old man's room.

"Bianxun, where's the pawn money?"

"On the table, there are more than 360 francs left. I have already paid off our debts. The pawn is under the money."

"Here, madame," said Rastignac, running down the stairs sullenly, "pay the bill. Monsieur Goriot will not stay with you long, and I..."

"Yes, he's going out on his feet, poor fellow," she said, counting the two hundred francs with a half-joyed, half-concerned air.

"Let's hurry up," said Rastignac.

"Sylvie, get the sheets, and go upstairs and help the gentlemen."

"Don't forget Sylvie," Madame Vauquer whispered in Eugene's ear, "she hasn't closed her eyes for two nights."

As soon as Eugene turned around, the old woman ran to the cook and whispered to her: "You have to take the refurbished sheets, number seven. By God, it is always good enough for the dead."

Eugene had gone up several flights of stairs without hearing what the landlady said.

"Come," said Bianchon to him, "let's change his shirt. You straighten him."

Eugene stood at the head of the bed, supporting the dying man, Bianchon took off the sick man's shirt; the old man made a gesture, as if he wanted to hold something on his chest, and moaned and uttered an inarticulate moan. Wail, as if the animal were expressing great pain.

"Oh! Oh!" said Bianchon, "he wants a little hair collar and a pendant, which we took off when we were giving him moxibustion just now. Poor man! He must be put on again. At the fireplace on the shelf."

Eugene used to pick up a chain of braided gray-gold hair, which might have been that of Madame Goriot; and the pendant was inscribed on one side: Anastasia, and on the other: But fina.This is the shadow of his heart that will always be attached to his heart.The hair contained in it is very thin and thin, probably cut off when the daughters were very young.As soon as the locket touched his chest, the old man heaved a long breath, his contented expression made people shudder.This is his feeling returning to the light, and it seems to be going to the mysterious place, the center of sending and receiving affection, and gradually disappearing.There was a sickly happy expression on the convulsed and deformed face.Thoughts were gone, emotion was still there, and there was still power to emit this terrible light; the two college students were so moved when they saw it, they couldn't help shedding hot tears, dripping on the dying old man, and the old man let out a euphoric scream.

"Naxi! Feifei!" he said.

"He's still alive," Bian said.

"What's the use?" asked Sylvie.

"Painful," Rastignac replied.

Bianchon motioned to his companion to imitate him, knelt down and put his arms under the patient's knees; at the same time Rastignac, on the other side of the bed, performed the same movement. , with both hands under the patient's back.Sylvie stood by, ready to remove the sheet and replace it with the sheet she had brought when the patient was lifted.Goriot probably misunderstood the tears just now, stretched out his hands with the last strength, touched the heads of two college students on both sides of the bed, grabbed their hair desperately, and said weakly:
"Ah! My angel!" This word, this groan, every single word, all came from the soul, and the soul flew away with it.

"Poor dear," said Sylvie, moved also by that exclamation, which exhausted a sublime feeling which, for the last time, was inspired by sheer innocence. extremely cruel illusion.

The father's last sigh must have been one of joy.The sigh summed up his whole life, and he still misunderstood it.Everyone put old man Gao respectfully on the shabby bed.From this moment on, the traces of the pain of life-and-death struggle were fixed on his face; the brain consciousness that led to life's bitter and happy feelings no longer existed in the machine of the body.Total destruction is only a matter of time.

"He could drag on like this for a few hours, and then die without us knowing, without even a sound of dying. The brain may be completely congested."

Then there was the sound of a panting young woman's footsteps on the stairs.

"She was too late," said Rastignac.

It was not Dafina who came, but her maid Therese.

"Monsieur Eugene," she said, "poor lady asked for money for her father's business, and Monsieur and Madame had a great quarrel about it. Madame fainted, and the doctor came, and had to bleed her; she kept going." My son shouted loudly: "My father is going to die, I want to see my father!" Anyway, it broke my heart."

"All right, Thérèse. Even if she came, it's useless now, Mr. Goriot is unconscious."

(End of this chapter)