The Red and the Black: A Chronicle of the Nineteenth Century by Stendhal & Catherine Slater & Roger Pearson

Author:Stendhal & Catherine Slater & Roger Pearson [Stendhal & Slater, Catherine & Pearson, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, France, Classics, Literary, Europe, Juvenile Fiction, Psychological, Young Men, Church and state, People & Places, Bildungsromane, Ambition, Young Men - France
ISBN: 9780199539253
Google: 2TeXPwAACAAJ
Amazon: 0199539251
Publisher: Oxford University Press
Published: 1900-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

has some service to request. One of my uncle's vicars-general is wonderful when he describes M. Descoulis's life since the Restoration. I'll bring him along for you.'

'Bah! I wouldn't believe that sort of thing; it's professional jealousy among the lower orders,' said the Comte de Caylus. 'M. Descoulis will go down in history,' went on the marquis; 'he took part in the Restoration with the Abbé de Pradt, * M. de Talleyrand and M. Pozzo di Borgo.'

'The man has had millions passing through his hands,' said Norbert, 'and I can't imagine he comes here to rake in my father's witticisms, which are often abominable. "How many times have you betrayed your friends, my dear Descoulis?" he shouted to him the other day from the far end of the table.'

'But is it true that he's betrayed people?' said Mlle de La Mole. 'Who hasn't?'

'What's this?' said the Comte de Caylus to Norbert, 'you're entertaining M. Sainclair in your house, the notorious liberal; and what the devil does he come here for? I must go over and speak to him, and get him talking; they say he's so witty.'

'But how will he go down with your mother?' said M. de Croisenois. 'His ideas are so extravagant, so generous, so independent...'

'Just look,' said Mlle de La Mole, 'there's the independent fellow bowing and scraping to M. Descoulis, and grasping his hand. I almost thought he was going to raise it to his lips.'

' Descoulis must be more in with the Government than we thought,' M. de Croisenois replied.

' Sainclair comes here to get into the Academy,' said Norbert; 'look at him, Croisenois, look at him greeting the Baron L-----.'

'He'd be less base going down on his knees,' added M. de Luz.

'My dear Sorel,' said Norbert, 'you who have wits, but have only just come up to Paris from your mountains: try never to greet anyone the way that great poet * does, were he God the Father himself.'

'Ah! here's the man of wit to end all wit, his lordship the Baron Bâton,' said Mlle de La Mole, lightly mimicking the footman who had just announced him.

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