6 Michel Ney (1769–1815), whom Napoleon called le brave des braves, made his name with the revolutionary armies; he was named Duke d'Elchingen in 1808 and then Prince de la Moskova after the Russian campaign. He pledged his loyalty to the Bourbons and was sent by Louis XVIII to arrest Bonaparte when he returned from Elba in 1815. Ney famously promised to bring his former emperor back to Paris "in an iron cage." His resolution could not withstand the sight of his former general, and he defected to the imperial cause at Châlons-sur-Marne. Arrested after Waterloo—where many believe he deliberately sought death once defeat became inevitable—he was tried and convicted of treason by the Chamber of Peers, and shot by firing squad in 1815.
Chapter Two: Entering Society138F
"Very good," the marquis went on, seriously and in a distinctly commanding, curt voice that left Julien thinking. "Very good! Get another twenty-two. Here's your first quarter's salary." When they went down the staircase, the marquis summoned an old man: "Arsène," he said, "you will wait on Monsieur Sorel." A few minutes later, Julien found himself alone in a magnificent library; it was a delightful moment. So no one would come on him, excited as he was, he hid himself in a dark corner. From there, he looked out at the books' glittering spines. "I could read every one of them," he told himself. "How could I be unhappy here? Monsieur de Rênal would think himself dishonored, had he done for me a hundredth part of what Marquis de La Mole has just done. "But first, let's see what I'm supposed to copy." That finished, Julien ventured over to the books. He was wildly happy, finding an edition of Voltaire. He ran and opened the library door, so no one could come on him by surprise. Then he gave himself the pleasure of opening each of the eighty volumes. They were superbly bound: this set of Voltaire was the masterpiece of the best binder in London. Nothing else was needed to carry Julien to the heights of wonder. An hour later, the marquis came in, looked over the copies, and noticed, with astonishment, that Julien had misspelled a very simple word, dropping the "t" from the end of "that." "Everything Father Pirard told me about his learning is simply a fairy tale." Deeply discouraged, the marquis said to him, gently: "You're not sure of your spelling?" "That's true," said Julien, not thinking in the slightest of how much harm he was doing himself. He was stirred by the marquis's benevolence, which made him think of Monsieur de Rênal's arrogant tone. "My experiment with this little Franche-Comté priest is all a waste of time," thought the marquis. "But I so badly need a man who knows what he's doing!" "There is a 't' at the end of 'that,' " he said. "When you've finished your copies, use the dictionary and look up the words you're not sure of." At six o'clock, the marquis had him called. He looked with obvious distress at Julien's boots. "It's my fault," he said. "I didn't tell you that, every day at five-thirty, you need to be dressed." Julien looked at him, not understanding. "I mean, you need to put on stockings and shoes. Arsène will remind you: for today, I will apologize on your behalf." Having said this, Monsieur de La Mole showed Julien into a drawing room, resplendent in its gilded decor. On similar occasions, Monsieur de Rênal had never failed to walk very fast, so he could go through the door first. His former employer's petty vanity now caused Julien to step on the marquis's feet, and give him a good deal of pain, on account of his gout. "Ah, to top it all off, he's a clumsy oaf," he said to himself. Julien was presented to a tall lady of imposing appearance. This was the marquise. Julien thought her insolent, rather like Madame de Maugiron, wife of the deputy governor of the Verrières district, when she'd attended the Saint Charles feast day dinner. A bit bothered by the drawing room's excessive splendor, Julien did not listen to what Monsieur de La Mole was saying. The marquise scarcely troubled herself to look at him. There were a few men in attendance, among whom Julien recognized, with inexpressible pleasure, the young Bishop of Agde, who had been good enough to say a few words to him before the ceremony at Upper Bray. The young bishop was surely startled by the soft, shy glances fixed on him by Julien, and had no interest in recognizing this provincial.
The Red and the Black
All the men assembled in the drawing room struck Julien as rather somber and constrained. "People speak softly, in Paris, and they don't make much of unimportant things." A handsome young man, wearing a mustache, very pale and slender, came in at about six- thirty. He had an extremely small head. "You always make us wait for you," said the marquise, whose hand he kissed. Julien understood that this was Count de La Mole. From the start, Julien thought him charming. "Is it really possible," he asked himself, "that this is the man whose offensive jokes are supposed to chase me out of the house!" As he considered Count Norbert, Julien noticed that he was wearing boots and spurs. "And I have to be in shoes, since I'm an inferior." They sat down to dinner. Julien heard the marquise say something harsh, raising her voice a bit. At almost exactly the same time, he saw a young woman, very blonde and with a fine figure, who seated herself directly across from him. She did not attract him. However, when he looked at her more carefully, he thought he'd never seen such beautiful eyes, though they spoke of an enormously cold heart. Afterward, he decided they simply expressed her boredom at everyone there, though they obviously never forgot how imposing they were supposed to appear. "However, Madame de Rênal had quite beautiful eyes," he said to himself. "Everyone compliments her. But they're absolutely different from these." Julien lacked the experience to realize that what he saw, from time to time, gleaming in Mademoiselle Mathilde's7 eyes (he had heard her thus addressed) was a passionate wit. When Madame de Rênal's eyes grew bright, it was with emotion, or with compassionate indignation, hearing an account of some malicious act. Toward the end of dinner, Julien found words for the kind of beauty he saw in Mademoiselle Mathilde's eyes. "They're sparkling," he said to himself. But, for the rest, she unfortunately resembled her mother, who increasingly displeased him; he stopped looking at her. On the other hand, Count Norbert seemed to him entirely admirable. Julien was so captivated that it never occurred to him to be jealous and dislike the count, even though he was infinitely richer and nobler. To Julien's eyes, the marquis seemed bored. As they came to the second course, he said to his son: "Norbert, let me ask for your kindness toward Monsieur Julien Sorel, who has just joined my staff, and of whom I intend to make a man—if that is possible. "He's my secretary," said the marquis to the person seated next to him, "and he writes 'that' without the final 't.'" Everyone looked at Julien, who bowed a bit extravagantly to Norbert. But in general, people were pleased at his appearance. The marquis had probably been talking about how Julien had been educated, because one of the guests challenged him on the subject of Horace. "It was precisely discussing Horace with the Bishop of Besançon," Julien said to himself, "which made me successful with that prelate. These people don't seem to know any other authors." From then on, he had himself under complete control. It had become even easier because he'd just decided that, for him, Mademoiselle de La Mole could never seem a woman. After having been in the seminary, people could simply do their worst: he would not let anyone intimidate him. He might have been still calmer had the dining room been less magnificently furnished. Indeed, there were two mirrors, each eight feet high, in which from time to time he observed the man questioning