The Marriage Contract by Honoré de Balzac (ink ebook reader TXT) 📕

from the day I knew you first. My
love is the only accomplice in my disaster. I have felt, as my
ruin progressed, the delirious joys of a gambler; as the money
diminished, so my enjoyment grew. Each fragment of my fortune
turned into some little pleasure for you gave me untold happiness.
I could have wished that you had more caprices that I might
gratify them all. I knew I was marching to a precipice, but I went
on crowned with joys of which a common heart knows nothing. I have
acted like those lovers who take refuge in a cottage on the shores
of some lake for a year or two, resolved to kill themselves at
last; dying thus in all the glory of their illusions and their
love. I have always thought such persons infinitely sensible.

You have known nothing of my pleasures or my sacrifices. The
greatest joy of all was to hide from the one beloved the cost of
her desires. I can reveal these secrets to you now, for when you
hold this paper, heavy with love, I shall be far away. Though I
lose the treasures of your gratitude, I do not suffer that
contraction of the heart which would disable me if I spoke to you
of these matters. Besides, my own beloved, is there not a tender
calculation in thus revealing to you the history of the past? Does
it not extend our love into the future?--But we need no such
supports! We love each other with a love to which proof is
needless,--a love which takes no note of time or distance, but
lives of itself alone.

Ah! Natalie, I have just looked at you asleep, trustful, restful
as a little child, your hand stretched toward me. I left a tear
upon the pillow which has known our precious joys. I leave you
without fear, on the faith of that attitude; I go to win the
future of our love by bringing home to you a fortune large enough
to gratify your every taste, and let no shadow of anxiety disturb
our joys. Neither you nor I can do without enjoyments in the life
we live. To me belongs the task of providing the necessary
fortune. I am a man; and I have courage.

Perhaps you might seek to follow me. For that reason I conceal
from you the name of the vessel, the port from which I sail, and
the day of sailing. After I am gone, when too late to follow me, a
friend will tell you all.

Natalie! my affection is boundless. I love you as a mother loves
her child, as a lover loves his mistress, with absolute
unselfishness. To me the toil, to you the pleasures; to me all
sufferings, to you all happiness. Amuse yourself; continue your
habits of luxury; go to theatres and operas, enjoy society and
balls; I leave you free for all things. Dear angel, when you
return to this nest where for five years we have tasted the fruits
which love has ripened think of your friend; think for a moment of
me, and rest upon my heart.

That is all I ask of you. For myself, dear eternal thought of
mine! whether under burning skies, toiling for both of us, I face
obstacles to vanquish, or whether, weary with the struggle, I rest
my mind on hopes of a return, I shall think of you alone; of you
who are my life,--my blessed life! Yes, I shall live in you. I
shall tell myself daily that you have no troubles, no cares; that
you are happy. As in our natural lives of day and night, of
sleeping and waking, I shall have sunny days in Paris, and nights
of toil in India,--a painful dream, a joyful reality; and I shall
live so utterly in that reality that my actual life will pass as a
dream. I shall have memories! I shall recall, line by line,
strophe by strophe, our glorious five years' poem. I shall
remember the days of your pleasure in some new dress or some
adornment which made you to my eyes a fresh delight. Yes, dear
angel, I go like a man vowed to some great emprize, the guerdon of
which, if success attend him, is the recovery of his beautiful
mistress. Oh! my precious love, my Natalie, keep me as a religion
in your heart. Be the child that I have just seen asleep! If you
betray my confidence, my blind confidence, you need not fear my
anger--be sure of that; I should die silently. But a wife does not
deceive the man who leaves her free--for woman is never base. She
tricks a tyrant; but an easy treachery, which would kill its
victim, she will not commit--No, no! I will not think of it.
Forgive this cry, this single cry, so natural to the heart of man!

Dear love, you will see de Marsay; he is now the lessee of our
house, and he will leave you in possession of it. This nominal
lease was necessary to avoid a useless loss. Our creditors,
ignorant that their payment is a question of time only, would
otherwise have seized the furniture and the temporary possession
of the house. Be kind to de Marsay; I have the most entire
confidence in his capacity and his loyalty. Take him as your
defender and adviser, make him your slave. However occupied, he
will always find time to be devoted to you. I have placed the
liquidation of my affairs and the payment of the debts in his
hands. If he should advance some sum of which he should later feel
in need I rely on you to pay it back. Remember, however, that I do
not leave you to de Marsay, but _to yourself_; I do not seek to
impose him upon you.

Alas! I have but an hour more to stay beside you; I cannot spend
that hour in writing business--I count your breaths; I try to
guess your thoughts in the slight motions of your sleep. I would I
could infuse my blood into your veins that you might be a part of
me, my thought your thought, and your heart mine--A murmur has
just escaped your lips as though it were a soft reply. Be calm and
beautiful forever as you are now! Ah! would that I possessed that
fabulous fairy power which, with a wand, could make you sleep
while I am absent, until, returning, I should wake you with a
kiss.

How much I must love you, how much energy of soul I must possess,
to leave you as I see you now! Adieu, my cherished one. Your poor
Pink of Fashion is blown away by stormy winds, but--the wings of
his good luck shall waft him back to you. No, my Ninie, I am not
bidding you farewell, for I shall never leave you. Are you not the
soul of my actions? Is not the hope of returning with happiness
indestructible for YOU the end and aim of my endeavor? Does it not
lead my every step? You will be with me everywhere. Ah! it will
not be the sun of India, but the fire of your eyes that lights my
way. Therefore be happy--as happy as a woman can be without her
lover. I would the last kiss that I take from those dear lips were
not a passive one; but, my Ninie, my adored one, I will not wake
you. When you wake, you will find a tear upon your forehead--make
it a talisman! Think, think of him who may, perhaps, die for you,
far from you; think less of the husband than of the lover who
confides you to God.


From the Comtesse de Manerville to her husband:

Dear, beloved one,--Your letter has plunged me into affliction.
Had you the right to take this course, which must affect us
equally, without consulting me? Are you free? Do you not belong to
me? If you must go, why should I not follow you? You show me,
Paul, that I am not indispensable to you. What have I done, to be
deprived of my rights? Surely I count for something in this ruin.
My luxuries have weighed somewhat in the scale. You make me curse
the happy, careless life we have led for the last five years. To
know that you are banished from France for years is enough to kill
me. How soon can a fortune be made in India? Will you ever return?

I was right when I refused, with instinctive obstinacy, that
separation as to property which my mother and you were so
determined to carry out. What did I tell you then? Did I not warn
you that it was casting a reflection upon you, and would ruin your
credit? It was not until you were really angry that I gave way.

My dear Paul, never have you been so noble in my eyes as you are
at this moment. To despair of nothing, to start courageously to
seek a fortune! Only your character, your strength of mind could
do it. I sit at your feet. A man who avows his weakness with your
good faith, who rebuilds his fortune from the same motive that
made him wreck it, for love's sake, for the sake of an
irresistible passion, oh, Paul, that man is sublime! Therefore,
fear nothing; go on, through all obstacles, not doubting your
Natalie--for that would be doubting yourself. Poor darling, you
mean to live in me? And I shall ever be in you. I shall not be
here; I shall be wherever you are, wherever you go.

Though your letter has caused me the keenest pain, it has also
filled me with joy--you have made me know those two extremes!
Seeing how you love me, I have been proud to learn that my love is
truly felt. Sometimes I have thought that I loved you more than
you loved me. Now, I admit myself vanquished, you have added the
delightful superiority--of loving--to all the others with which
you are blest. That precious letter in which your soul reveals
itself will lie upon my heart during