old man goriot

Chapter 7 Civilian Apartments (6)
"Yesterday, I was in the Duchess's mansion," said Vautrin, "but today I'm unlucky, at the door of some rich man; that's what Parisian women are. They spend money like water, and if their husbands pay If you can’t afford it, sell yourself; if you don’t know how to do this, you can cut open your mother’s belly and search for something to show off. In short, they can do all sorts of strange and absurd things. Everyone knows it, everyone knows it!”

Old man Goriot's face glowed like the sun on a sunny day when he heard the student's words, but immediately became gloomy when he heard Vautrin's harsh remarks.

"Hey!" said Madame Vauquer, "and your adventure? Have you spoken to her? Have you asked her if she wants to study law?"

"She didn't see me," said Eugene, "but isn't it strange that at nine o'clock in the morning in the rue de Gray I met the great beauty of Paris, who must have come home from the ball at two o'clock in the morning? Only Paris That’s why it’s such a miracle.”

"Come on! There are stranger things than that," exclaimed Vautrin.

Miss Taifan didn't pay attention to what they said, she just thought about what she was going to try in a while.Mrs. Coutier motioned for her to change.As soon as the two of them left, old man Gao followed suit.

"Well, do you see that?" said Madame Vauquer to Vautrin and the other lodgers. "It is obvious that he lost his fortune for those women."

"I don't believe anything," cried the student. "The pretty Mrs. Restor is someone of old Goriot's."

"However," interrupted Vautrin, "we don't have to ask you to believe me. You're too young to know Paris. You'll see later that there are so-called lovers here. . . (Miss Mixuno looked at Vautrin knowingly after hearing this, as if a war horse had heard a horn.) "Hehe!" Vautrin paused, took a deep look at her and said, "Let's Haven't we all had a little infatuation?" (The old lady lowered her eyes, as if a nun saw a naked vulture.) "Besides," Vautrin continued, "those people, if they have an idea, they can't catch it. Put. They only think of a well to drink water, which is often stinky; to drink this water, they sell their wives and children; they sell their souls to the devil. To some people, this well is a casino, an exchange , it is collecting ancient paintings, collecting insects, and music; for others, it is women who will cook them food. To these people, you are offering all the women in the world, and they will turn a blind eye and only want that one Women who gratify their passions. Often the woman doesn't love them at all, and treats them roughly, and makes them pay dearly for a little gratification; hey! These people I'm talking about are funny, and they don't get tired of it, they Will pawn the last quilt for the last dollar to give to the woman. Old man Goriot is such a man. The countess squeezes him because he doesn't like to show off; this is high society! Poor old man only She. Leaving aside his infatuation, as you can see, he's quite a bum. His face shines like a diamond at the mention of that. The secret is easy to guess. This morning he Sending the gilt silver to the silversmith's furnace, and I saw him go up to old man Gobseck in Gray Street. Just wait! Back here, he sent Christophe to Mrs. de Resto, and the fool told us I saw the address on the envelope, and inside was a paid loan. It was very clear that the countess also went to the old moneylender later, explaining that the situation was urgent. The old man flattered her and paid for her. No need for anything Think about it, and you can see the mystery clearly. This shows that, young college students, when your countess is laughing and dancing, posing with her head, dangling her peach blossoms, and twirling her skirt with her slender hands, she looks like the old saying. Said, with big feet in small shoes, thinking about her own or her lover's debts, which will not be repaid when the time comes."

"You make me have to get it right. I'm going to Madame de Resto's to-morrow," Eugene said loudly.

"Yes," said Poiret, "to-morrow I must go to Madame de Resto's."

"Maybe you will meet old man Gao there, who is collecting money for flattery and favor!"

"According to you," said Eugene with disgust, "Paris is a quagmire."

"And it's an inexplicable quagmire," continued Vautrin. "Anyone who rides through the quagmire is a gentleman, and anyone who walks through the quagmire with his legs spread is a villain. You stole something, then If you are unlucky, you will get it on the court square and show it to the public like a trick. You really stole 100 million, but you are advertised as a virtuous person in the salons everywhere. You spent 3000 million to support the police station and the court. The only thing to do is to maintain this morality. Wonderful!"

"Why," exclaimed Madame Vauquer, "did old Goriot really melt down the gilt silver?"

"Are there two turtledoves on the lid?" asked Eugene.

"That's right."

"That was his treasure. He was tinkering with soup bowls and plates, and wept afterwards. I saw it by accident." Eugene said.

"He takes those things as seriously as his life," said the widow.

"Look at this fellow, he's all fascinated," exclaimed Vautrin, "that woman is truly captivating."

The student went upstairs to his room, and Vautrin went out.After a while, Madame Coutier and Vitoline got into the cab that Sylvie had called for them.Poiret let Mademoiselle Michnot link her arms, and they both went for a walk in the botanical garden, spending the two good hours of the day.

"Well! These two are almost a couple," said fat Sylvie, "and this is the first time they go out together. Both of them are like dry sticks, and like flint and steel when they touch the fire." .”

"Mademoiselle Michnot's shawl is really careful," Madame Vauquer said with a smile, "it will burn like tinder."

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Goriot returned; by the light of two smoking oil lamps, he saw Vidoline's eyes red.Madame Vauquer was listening to their account of their fruitless visit to M. Tayfan that morning.Taifan was so upset by her daughter and this old woman that she agreed to meet in order to explain things to them.

"My dear madam," said Madame Couture to Madame Vauquer, "you see, he doesn't even make Védoline sit down, but keeps her standing. As for me, he is not angry, but cold." Said to me coldly that we needn't bother to come to his door any more; he called his daughter Miss, and said she haunted him all the time (once a year, the devil!), and it was useless vexation; Lynn's mother had no fortune when she married, so she had nothing to look forward to; the poor girl was weeping like tears because of unfeeling words. The little girl threw herself at her father's feet, and summoned up her courage to face him. Said that she worked so hard only for her mother, she would obey her father's order, without complaint, just begging him to read the last words of her poor late mother; so she took out the letter and handed it to him, all the good words were touching, I don't know Where did she learn it; God taught her sentence by sentence, the poor child is so sensible that even I was dumbfounded when I heard it. You know what the cruel man is doing, cutting his nails, he took poor Throwing the tear-stained letter from Mrs. Tayfan on the fireplace, he said, "Okay!" He wanted to pull his daughter up, but when she saw her grabbing his hand for a kiss, he drew back immediately. Isn't this hateful? His big stupid son came in and didn't even say hello to his own sister."

"Are they devils?" said Goriot.

"Later," said Mrs. Couture, ignoring the old man's exclamation, "the father and son nodded to me, and said they were in a hurry and left. That's how we went to the door today. At least, he saw his daughter. I don't know. I know, how could he deny her, the two look exactly the same, like two drops of water."

The boarding and boarding guests came one after another, saying hello to each other, and talking nonsense to each other; in certain circles in Paris, this kind of nonsense is considered humorous; gestures and pronunciation.This kind of market talk is constantly changing, and the changes are nothing more than jokes, and the popular period never exceeds a month.Political events, criminal cases, street songs, and actors' jokes can all be the material for such gags; when it comes to fun, all kinds of opinions and sayings are like badmintons being beaten back and forth with a racket.Recently, a painting called Diorama was invented, which pushed the optical illusion a step further, and was even better than Panorama.A young painter who was a frequent visitor to Vauquer's apartment brought the joke with him.

"Hi! Mr. Poiret," said the museum clerk, "how is your precious body, Rama?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he said to Mrs. Courtier and Vidoline, "Ladies , you feel bad."

"Is it time to eat?" cried Auras Bianchon, a medical student and a friend of Rastignac's. "My baby's stomach is up to his heels."

"It's very cold today, Rama!" said Vautrin. "Move it, old man Goriot! Damn it! Your foot has taken up the whole furnace door."

"The famous Mr. Vautrin," said Bianchon, "why do you say Leng Lama? You made a mistake. It should be Cham Lama."

"No," said the museum clerk, "it's cold Lama. There are rules to follow: generally speaking, my feet are cold."

"Whoa whoa!"

"His Excellency the Marquis de Rastignac, a crooked doctor," announced Bianchon loudly, throwing his arms around Eugene's neck, suffocating him. "Hi! Everyone, hi!"

Miss Mi Xunuo came in slowly, nodded to everyone without saying a word, walked to the three women and sat down.

"I tremble when I see her, old bat," Bianchon whispered to Vautrin, pointing to Mademoiselle Michnot. "I'm working on Garrett's theory[20] and think she has Judas rebellion."

"Does Monsieur know Judas?" asked Vautrin.

"Who hasn't seen it!" replied Bianchon. "I dare say, this pale old girl looks like one of those long worms that would eat up the beams."

"That's right, young man." Vautrin said while brushing his beard.

Rose, life is like a kind,
Haggard all morning.

"Oh! Oh! The famous Tang Lama is here." Seeing Christophe coming in with soup respectfully, Poiret said.

"Excuse me, Monsieur," said Madame Vauquer, "that is vegetable soup."

All the young people roared with laughter.

"Losing, Poiret!"

"Boa... Lai lost!"

"Two points for Mama Vauquer," said Vautrin.

"Anyone notice the fog this morning?" the clerk asked.

"It was one," said Bianchon, "a savage fog unprecedented in history, a sad fog, a green and stifling fog, a Goriot-style fog."

"The fog of Goriolama," said the painter, "because people can't see clearly in the fog."

"Hey, Monsieur Gouvriot, what about you?"

Old Man Goriot sat at the bottom of the dining table, near the door where the food was served; he raised his head and sniffed a piece of bread inside the napkin; that was his old habit in business, which was revealed from time to time.

"Hey!" Madame Vauquer yelled at him sarcastically, loudly over the sound of spoons and plates, and the voice of talking to everyone, "do you think the bread is not good?"

"No, ma'am," he answered, "it's made of Étampes flour, which is of the highest quality."

"How did you find out?" Eugene asked him.

"By its whiteness, by its taste."

"You smell it with your nose, because you are smelling it," said Madame Vauquer, "you are becoming more and more frugal, and in the future you will be full just by smelling the kitchen."

"Then go and apply for a patent for your invention," exclaimed the museum clerk, "you're sure to make a fortune."

"Stop making trouble, what he did was just to convince us that he was in the noodle business," said the painter.

"Then your nose is not a retort?" asked the museum clerk again.

"Steam what?" Bianxun asked.

"Steamed noodles."

"Steam diced meat."

"Open your eyes and go blind."

"Battle."

"Steamed cucumber."

"Steam crow."

"Conscription station."

"Conscript Rama."

These eight answers flew from all directions in the dining room, like a cannonball; the poor old man looked at the crowd in a daze, as if he really wanted to understand a foreign language, and everyone laughed.

"Steam what?" He asked Vautrin beside him.

"Steam hooves, old man!" said Vautrin, slapping Goriot on the head, and the old man's hat fell on his eyes.

The poor old man was stunned by the unexpected slap and froze for a while.Christopher thought he was done and took his plate away.As a result, old man Gao fixed the hat up, and when he took the spoon to use it, he knocked it on the table, and everyone burst into laughter.

"Sir," said the old man, "you're joking too far, if you dare to touch me like that again..."

"So what, old man?" Vautrin interrupted him.

"How about it! There will be retribution one day..."

"Go to hell, won't you?" asked the painter, "to one of those dark rooms where bad boys are kept!"

"Well, madam," said Vautrin to Védoline, "you don't eat anything. Will papa not turn the corner?"

"It's infuriating," said Mrs. Couture.

"He must understand better," said Vautrin.

"But," said Rastignac, who was sitting close to Bianchon, "Mademoiselle can sue for food, since she doesn't eat. Hi! Hi! Look at old Goriot looking at Védoline like that." Miss."

The old man forgot to eat and looked at the poor girl; now and then there flashed in her face the real anguish of a child who loves his father but is not recognized.

"My dear," said Eugene in a low voice to Bianchon, "we have wronged old Goriot. He is neither a fool nor a bloodless man. Apply your Gardner theory to him, and then Tell me what you think. Last night I saw him wring a gilt silver plate as wax; and there was an expression on his face at this moment, that expressed extraordinary emotion. I think his life is too much. It's mysterious, and it's worth studying. Yes, Bianxun, you can laugh it off, I'm not joking."

"This man's condition is a medical phenomenon," said Bianchon, "well, I'll dissect it for him if he wants to."

"No, you just touch his head."

"Okay, his stupidity might be contagious."

The next day, Rastignac was very well dressed; at about three o'clock in the afternoon, he set off for Madame de Restaud's house; along the way, he was full of dreams and hopes; it is because of hope that ordinary young people live so beautifully and richly. passion.They don't care about dangers, they only see success in everything; they regard their lives as poems based on imagination alone;If it were not for their ignorance and cowardice, society would not be a society.Eugene carefully guarded against the mud on the road, and while walking, he was thinking about what to say to Madame de Resto. A wonderful sentence in the style of Leland [21], assuming some small opportunities to express his heart, because his future is in one fell swoop.The college students still got muddy and had to ask someone to polish their shoes and brush their trousers around the palace.

"If I had a lot of money," he thought, as he changed the thirty-sou piece he had brought in case of accident, "I could sit in the car and think comfortably."

(End of this chapter)