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Updated: June 24, 2025
While dreaming of the fulfilment of his schemes, he always overlooked the means of attainment. "When my son has children," said his other, "he will want them born grown up." This fine frenzy, carefully directed, enabled Rodolphe to achieve his studies with brilliant results, and to become what the English call an accomplished gentleman.
"In fine, here it is, this treasure so sought after, here before you. It glitters, it flashes; yet one still doubts, one does not believe it; one remains dazzled, as if one went out from darkness into light!" And as he ended Rodolphe suited the action to the word. He passed his hand over his face, like a man seized with giddiness. Then he let it fall on Emma's. She took hers away.
She coquets with him but does not dare to go further; nothing happens. Then comes Rodolphe who takes the woman to himself. After looking at her for a moment, he said: This woman is all right. She will be easy prey, because she is light-minded and inexperienced. As to the fall, will you re-read pages 42, 43 and 44.
Her passages with Rodolphe and with Léon are pictures that pass; they solve nothing, they lead to no climax. Rodolphe's final rejection of her, for example, is no scene of drama, deciding a question that has been held in suspense; it is one of Emma's various mischances, with its own marked effect upon her, but it does not stand out in the book as a turning-point in the action.
She seemed to have read the thoughts of this vassal who was so audacious as to constitute himself her protector. Already, in the furniture of the room where Francesca had received him, in her dress, and in the various trifles she made use of, Rodolphe had detected indications of a superior character and a fine fortune.
"They are happy!" exclaimed Rodolphe, with bitter emphasis. "Claire de Bourgogne, the last survivor of the only house which can ever vie with the royal family of France " "Oh! of a bastard branch, and that a female line." "At any rate, she is Vicomtesse de Beauseant; and she did not "
She was afraid of the oxen; she began to run; she arrived out of breath, with rosy cheeks, and breathing out from her whole person a fresh perfume of sap, of verdure, of the open air. At this hour Rodolphe still slept. It was like a spring morning coming into his room. The yellow curtains along the windows let a heavy, whitish light enter softly.
"Come," said he, "let's begin." He wrote "Courage, Emma! courage! I would not bring misery into your life." "After all, that's true," thought Rodolphe. "I am acting in her interest; I am honest." "Have you carefully weighed your resolution? Do you know to what an abyss I was dragging you, poor angel? No, you do not, do you?
The tarantella was followed by a polonaise, led by Comte Rodolphe Appony and the Duchesse de Rauzan, resplendent in blue and gold. A more sedate dance, this, performed by noble lords and ladies, all in Hungarian costume, and escorted by pages, bearing their respective banners.
She fetched him some salts, and revived Rodolphe by making him smell at them. "Married!" said Rodolphe, looking at Francesca. And then his tears flowed freely. "Child!" said she. "But there is still hope. My husband is " "Eighty?" Rodolphe put in. "No," said she with a smile, "but sixty-five. He has disguised himself as much older to mislead the police."
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