the vicar of tours-第1章

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The　Vicar　of　Tours



by　Honore　de　Balzac



Translated　by　Katharine　Prescott　Wormeley









DEDICATION



To　David；　Sculptor：



The　permanence　of　the　work　on　which　I　inscribe　your　name

twice　made　illustrious　in　this　centuryis　very　problematical；

whereas　you　have　graven　mine　in　bronze　which　survives　nations

if　only　in　their　coins。　The　day　may　come　when　numismatists；

discovering　amid　the　ashes　of　Paris　existences　perpetuated　by

you；　will　wonder　at　the　number　of　heads　crowned　in　your

atelier　and　endeavour　to　find　in　them　new　dynasties。



To　you；　this　divine　privilege；　to　me；　gratitude。



De　Balzac。









THE　VICAR　OF　TOURS





I



Early　in　the　autumn　of　1826　the　Abbe　Birotteau；　the　principal

personage　of　this　history；　was　overtaken　by　a　shower　of　rain　as　he

returned　home　from　a　friend's　house；　where　he　had　been　passing　the

evening。　He　therefore　crossed；　as　quickly　as　his　corpulence　would

allow；　the　deserted　little　square　called　〃The　Cloister；〃　which　lies

directly　behind　the　chancel　of　the　cathedral　of　Saint…Gatien　at　Tours。



The　Abbe　Birotteau；　a　short　little　man；　apoplectic　in　constitution　and

about　sixty　years　old；　had　already　gone　through　several　attacks　of

gout。　Now；　among　the　petty　miseries　of　human　life　the　one　for　which

the　worthy　priest　felt　the　deepest　aversion　was　the　sudden　sprinkling

of　his　shoes；　adorned　with　silver　buckles；　and　the　wetting　of　their

soles。　Notwithstanding　the　woollen　socks　in　which　at　all　seasons　he

enveloped　his　feet　with　the　extreme　care　that　ecclesiastics　take　of

themselves；　he　was　apt　at　such　times　to　get　them　a　little　damp；　and

the　next　day　gout　was　sure　to　give　him　certain　infallible　proofs　of

constancy。　Nevertheless；　as　the　pavement　of　the　Cloister　was　likely　to

be　dry；　and　as　the　abbe　had　won　three　francs　ten　sous　in　his　rubber

with　Madame　de　Listomere；　he　bore　the　rain　resignedly　from　the　middle

of　the　place　de　l'Archeveche；　where　it　began　to　come　down　in　earnest。

Besides；　he　was　fondling　his　chimera；a　desire　already　twelve　years

old；　the　desire　of　a　priest；　a　desire　formed　anew　every　evening　and

now；　apparently；　very　near　accomplishment；　in　short；　he　had　wrapped

himself　so　completely　in　the　fur　cape　of　a　canon　that　he　did　not　feel

the　inclemency　of　the　weather。　During　the　evening　several　of　the

company　who　habitually　gathered　at　Madame　de　Listomere's　had　almost

guaranteed　to　him　his　nomination　to　the　office　of　canon　（then　vacant

in　the　metropolitan　Chapter　of　Saint…Gatien）；　assuring　him　that　no　one

deserved　such　promotion　as　he；　whose　rights；　long　overlooked；　were

indisputable。



If　he　had　lost　the　rubber；　if　he　had　heard　that　his　rival；　the　Abbe

Poirel；　was　named　canon；　the　worthy　man　would　have　thought　the　rain

extremely　chilling；　he　might　even　have　thought　ill　of　life。　But　it　so

chanced　that　he　was　in　one　of　those　rare　moments　when　happy　inward

sensations　make　a　man　oblivious　of　discomfort。　In　hastening　his　steps

he　obeyed　a　more　mechanical　impulse；　and　truth　（so　essential　in　a

history　of　manners　and　morals）　compels　us　to　say　that　he　was　thinking

of　neither　rain　nor　gout。



In　former　days　there　was　in　the　Cloister；　on　the　side　towards　the

Grand'Rue；　a　cluster　of　houses　forming　a　Close　and　belonging　to　the

cathedral；　where　several　of　the　dignitaries　of　the　Chapter　lived。

After　the　confiscation　of　ecclesiastical　property　the　town　had　turned

the　passage　through　this　close　into　a　narrow　street；　called　the　Rue　de

la　Psalette；　by　which　pedestrians　passed　from　the　Cloister　to　the

Grand'Rue。　The　name　of　this　street；　proves　clearly　enough　that　the

precentor　and　his　pupils　and　those　connected　with　the　choir　formerly

lived　there。　The　other　side；　the　left　side；　of　the　street　is　occupied

by　a　single　house；　the　walls　of　which　are　overshadowed　by　the

buttresses　of　Saint…Gatien；　which　have　their　base　in　the　narrow　little

garden　of　the　house；　leaving　it　doubtful　whether　the　cathedral　was

built　before　or　after　this　venerable　dwelling。　An　archaeologist

examining　the　arabesques；　the　shape　of　the　windows；　the　arch　of　the

door；　the　whole　exterior　of　the　house；　now　mellow　with　age；　would　see

at　once　that　it　had　always　been　a　part　of　the　magnificent　edifice　with

which　it　is　blended。



An　antiquary　（had　there　been　one　at　Tours；one　of　the　least　literary

towns　in　all　France）　would　even　discover；　where　the　narrow　street

enters　the　Cloister；　several　vestiges　of　an　old　arcade；　which　formerly

made　a　portico　to　these　ecclesiastical　dwellings；　and　was；　no　doubt；

harmonious　in　style　with　the　general　character　of　the　architecture。



The　house　of　which　we　speak；　standing　on　the　north　side　of　the

cathedral；　was　always　in　the　shadow　thrown　by　that　vast　edifice；　on

which　time　had　cast　its　dingy　mantle；　marked　its　furrows；　and　shed　its

chill　humidity；　its　lichen；　mosses；　and　rank　herbs。　The　darkened

dwelling　was　wrapped　in　silence；　broken　only　by　the　bells；　by　the

chanting　of　the　offices　heard　through　the　windows　of　the　church；　by

the　call　of　the　jackdaws　nesting　in　the　belfries。　The　region　is　a

desert　of　stones；　a　solitude　with　a　character　of　its　own；　an　arid

spot；　which　could　only　be　inhabited　by　beings　who　had　either　attained

to　absolute　nullity；　or　were　gifted　with　some　abnormal　strength　of

soul。　The　house　in　question　had　always　been　occupied　by　abbes；　and　it

belonged　to　an　old　maid　named　Mademoiselle　Gamard。　Though　the　property

had　been　bought　from　the　national　domain　under　the　Reign　of　Terror　by

the　father　of　Mademoiselle　Gamard；　no　one　objected　under　the

Restoration　to　the　old　maid's　retaining　it；　because　she　took　priests

to　board　and　was　very　devout；　it　may　be　that　religious　persons　gave

her　credit　for　the　intention　of　leaving　the　property　to　the　Chapter。



The　Abbe　Birotteau　was　making　his　way　to　this　house；　where　he　had

lived　for　the　last　two　years。　His　apartment　had　been　（as　was　now　the

canonry）　an　object　of　envy　and　his　〃hoc　erat　in　votis〃　for　a　dozen

years。　To　be　Mademoiselle　Gamard's　boarder　and　to　become　a　canon　were

the　two　great　desires　of　his　life；　in　fact　they　do　present　accurately

the　ambition　of　a　priest；　who；　considering　himself　on　the　highroad　to

eternity；　can　wish　for　nothing　in　this　world　but　good　lodging；　good

food；　clean　garments；　shoes　with　silver　buckles；　a　sufficiency　of

things　for　the　needs　of　the　animal；　and　a　canonry　to　satisfy　self…

love；　that　inexpressible　sentiment　which　follows　us；　they　say；　into

the　presence　of　God；for　there　are　grades　among　the　saints。　But　the

covetous　desire　for　the　apartment　which　the　Abbe　Birotteau　was　now

inhabiting　（a　very　harmless　desire　in　the　eyes　of　worldly　people）　had

been　to　the　abbe　nothing　less　than　a　passion；　a　passion　full　of

obstacles；　and；　like　more　guilty　passions；　full　of　hopes；　pleasures；

and　remorse。



The　interior　arrangements　of　the　house　did　not　allow　Mademoiselle

Gamard　to　take　more　than　two　lodgers。　Now；　for　about　twelve　years

before　the　day　when　Birotteau　went　to　live　with　her　she　had　undertaken

to　keep　in　health　and　contentment　two　priests；　namely；　Monsieur　l'Abbe

Troubert　and　Monsieur　l'Abbe　Chapeloud。　The　Abbe　Troubert　still　lived。

The　Abbe　Chapeloud　was　dead；　and　Birotteau　had　stepped　into　his　place。



The　late　Abbe　Chapeloud；　in　life　a　canon　of　Saint…Gatien；　had　been　an

intimate　friend　of　the　Abbe　Birotteau。　Every　time　that　the　latter　paid

a　visit　to　the　canon　he　had　constantly　admired　the　apartment；　the

furniture　and　the　library。　Out　of　this　admiration　grew　the　desire　to

possess　these　beautiful　things。　It　had　been　impossible　for　the　Abbe

Birotteau　to　stifle　this　desire；　though　it　often　made　him　suffer

terribly　when　he　reflected　that　the　death　of　his　best　friend　could

alone　satisfy　his　secret　covetousness；　which　increased　as　time　went

on。　The　Abbe　Chapeloud　and　his　friend　Birotteau　were　not　rich。　Both

were　sons　of　peasants；　and　their　slender　savings　had　been　spent　in　the

mere　costs　of　living　during　the　disastrous　years　of　t