14 Known as the Spider King, Louis XI (born 1423, reigned 1461–83) was a shrewd and ruthless politician who made great strides in increasing the centralized power of the French monarchy.
The Red and the Black
Obey me, or I'll take back everything. Be careful, rash young woman. I still do not know what your Julien truly is, and you yourself know even less than I do. Let him leave for Strasbourg, and let him do what he ought to do. I will let you know my wishes in two weeks' time. This strict response stunned Mathilde. "I don't know who Julien is." These words threw her into a reverie, which soon ended in the most enchanting of imaginary events. But she thought they were real. "My Julien's spirit hasn't worn the drawing rooms' shabby uniform, and my father doesn't believe in his superiority, precisely on these grounds, which in fact prove it... "Just the same, if I don't give in to this characteristic whim, I can see the real possibility of a public quarrel. A scandal would lower my social position, and might well make me less lovable to Julien. After a scandal ...ten years of poverty—, and the madness of choosing a husband because of his merit, and nothing else, can only be rescued from ridicule by the most gleaming opulence. If I live far away from my father, at his age he might forget me...Norbert will marry some lovable, clever woman: old Louis XIV was seduced by the Duchess of Burgundy."15 She decided to obey, but was careful not to let Julien see her father's letter. His fierce nature might lead him to do something foolish. That evening, when she told Julien he was a cavalry lieutenant, his joy was unrestrained. One can easily picture it, knowing his lifelong ambition, and also his new passion for his son. The name change absolutely struck him dumb. "After all," he thought, "this romantic story is over, and the glory is all mine. I've learned how to love this prideful monster," he added, looking at Mathilde. "Her father can't live without her, nor she without him." Chapter Thirty-Five: A Thunderstorm My God, give me mediocrity.16 —Mirabeau His soul was lost in thought; he only partially responded to her eager tenderness. He remained silent, somber. He had never seemed to her so noble, so adorable. She worried that his pride might fall into some subtlety, which would end by jumbling up everything. Virtually every morning, she saw Father Pirard come to the house. Couldn't he have helped Julien discover something of what her father meant to do? Might the marquis himself, moved by an eccentric impulse, have written to the priest? Following on such intense happiness, how explain Julien's somber behavior? She did not dare ask him. She did not dare! She, Mathilde de La Mole! From then on there was something vague, unpredictable, almost terror-stricken in her feelings about Julien. Her dry heart experienced all the passion possible, for someone brought up in the midst of the extravagant civilization worshipped by Paris. The next day, very early, Julien was at Father Pirard's. A team of mail-coach horses arrived in the priest's courtyard, pulling a dilapidated carriage, rented from the nearby mail office. "This kind of thing is no longer appropriate," the harsh priest told him, sourly. "Here's twenty thousand francs, given you by Monsieur de La Mole. He expects you to spend this in