The Torment of the WeakIn cutting this diamond, a clumsy jeweller removed some of itsbrightest sparkles. In the Middle Ages, what am I saying? evenunder Richelieu, a Frenchman still had the power to desire.

　　MIRABEAUJulien found the Marquis furious: for the first time in his life, perhaps,this gentleman was guilty of bad taste; he heaped on Julien all the insultsthat came to his lips. Our hero was astonished, irritated, but his sense ofgratitude was not shaken. 'How many fine projects long cherished in hissecret thoughts, the poor man sees crumble in an instant. But I owe it tohim to answer him, my silence would increase his rage.' His answer wasfurnished for him from the part of Tartuffe.

　　'I am no angel … I have served you well, you have rewarded me generously … I was grateful, but I am twenty-two years old … In this household, my thoughts were intelligible only to yourself, and to that obligingperson … '

　　'Monster!' cried the Marquis. 'Obliging! Obliging! On the day whenyou found her obliging, you ought to have fled.'

　　'I made an attempt; I asked you if I might go to Languedoc.'

　　Tired of pacing the room in fury, the Marquis, broken by grief, threwhimself into an armchair; Julien heard him murmur to himself: 'This is noscoundrel.'

　　'No, I am not one to you,' cried Julien, falling at his feet. But he felt extremely ashamed of this impulse and rose quickly.

　　The Marquis was really out of his mind. On seeing this movement hebegan again to shower upon Julien atrocious insults worthy of a cabdriver. The novelty of these oaths was perhaps a distraction.

　　'What? My daughter is to be called Madame Sorel! What! My daughteris not to be a Duchess!' Whenever these two ideas presented themselves in such clear terms, the Marquis was in torment, and his impulses wereuncontrolled. Julien began to fear a thrashing.

　　In his lucid intervals, and when the Marquis began to grow accustomed to his disgrace, his reproaches became quite reasonable.

　　'You ought to have gone, Sir,' he said. 'It was your duty to go … Youare the meanest of mankind … '

　　Julien went to the table and wrote:

　　'For a long time my life has been insupportable, I am putting an end to it. Ibeg Monsieur le Marquis to accept, with my expression of a gratitude thatknows no bounds, my apologies for the trouble which my death in his house maycause.'

　　'Will Monsieur le Marquis deign to peruse this paper … Kill me,' saidJulien, 'or have me killed by your valet. It is one o'clock in the morning, Iam going to stroll in the garden towards the wall at the far end.'

　　'Go to the devil,' the Marquis shouted after him as he left the room.

　　'I understand,' thought Julien; 'he would not be sorry to see me sparehis valet the responsibility for my death … Let him kill me, well andgood, it is a satisfaction that I am offering him … But, by Jove, I am inlove with life … I owe myself to my child.'

　　This idea, which for the first time appeared thus clearly before his imagination, completely absorbed him after the first few minutes of his strollhad been devoted to the sense of danger.

　　This entirely novel interest made a prudent creature of him. 'I need advice to guide me in dealing with that fiery man … He has no judgment,he is capable of anything. Fouque is too far off, besides he would not understand the sentiments of a heart like the Marquis's.

　　'Conte Altamira … Can I be sure of eternal silence? My request for advice must not be a definite action, nor complicate my position. Alas!

　　There is no one left but the sombre abbe Pirard … His mind is narrowedby Jansenism … A rascally Jesuit would know the world better, andwould be more to my purpose … M. Pirard is capable of beating me, atthe mere mention of my crime.'

　　The genius of Tartuffe came to Julien's aid: 'Very well, I shall go andconfess to him.' This was the resolution to which he finally came in thegarden, after pacing it for fully two hours. He no longer thought that hemight be surprised by a gunshot; sleep was overpowering him.

　　 Next morning, before daybreak, Julien was several leagues from Paris,knocking at the door of the stern Jansenist. He found, greatly to his astonishment, that the other was not unduly surprised at his confession.

　　'I ought perhaps to blame myself,' the abbe said to himself, moreanxious than angry. 'I had thought that I detected this love affair. My affection for yourself, you little wretch, restrained me from warning herfather … '

　　'What will he do?' Julien asked him boldly.

　　(At that moment, he loved the abbe and a scene would have been mostpainful to him.)'I can see three courses of action,' Julien continued: 'First of all, M. deLa Mole may have me put to death'; and he told the abbe of the letter announcing his suicide which he had left with the Marquis; 'secondly, hemay have me shot down by Comte Norbert, who will challenge me to aduel.'

　　'You would accept?' said the abbe in a fury, rising to his feet.

　　'You do not allow me to finish. Certainly I should never fire at the sonof my benefactor.

　　'Thirdly, he may send me away. If he says to me: "Go to Edinburgh, toNew York," I shall obey. Then they can conceal Mademoiselle de LaMole's condition; but I shall never allow them to destroy my child.'

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