True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1855-02-08
I THE PRICE OF LIFE.
IRON THE FRENCH OF EUGENE SCRIBE.

! FROM THE FRENCH OF EUGENE SCRIBE.
Joseph opening the drawing-room door,
came to tell us that the post-chase was
ready. My mother and sisters threw them
selves into my arms.
There is yet time said they. 'renounce
this journey and remain with us
4 am man of noble descent, mother;
I am twenty years of age; l must be talk
ed of in the country; l must make my way
either to the army or to the Court
Tell me, Bernard, when you are gone,
what will become of me?'
you will be happy and proud in learn
ing the success of your SON..
'And if you should be killed in some
battleT
What does it matter? What is life
Do people think only of it? A man thinks
only of glory when he is twenty years old,
and Of noble descent. And shall you not
see me, mother, return to you in few
years, a colonel or mnrechal de camp, or
else with high station at Versailles?' p
We'll, what will come from this?'
1T will come to pass that I shall be re-
garded and respected here
'And after that?
That everybody will take off his hat to
me- -.
And after that!
That I shall marry my cousin Henriette,
and give in marriage my young sisters; and
that we shall all live with you, tranquil
and happy, on my Brctagne lands
And what prevents you from commence
ing SO to-day? Has not your father left
you the richest fortune of the country p
Is there, for ten leagues around, richer
domain, and more magnificent castle than
that of Ia Roche Bernard? Have you not
thought of your tenants? Is there one
who will neglect to salute you, and to take
off his hat to you, when you pass through
the village? Do not quit us, my son; re-
main with your friends, with your sisters,
with your old mother, whom, perhaps, you
will not find at your return. Do not spend
in vain glory, or shorten by cares, or tor
ments of every kind, days which already
are passing away SO fast. Life is sweet,
and the sun of Brctagne is so beautiful!
Saying this, she showed me through the
drawing-room windows, the beautiful walks
of my park, the old chestnut trees in bloom,
the lilacs, the honey-suckles, whose per-
fume made fragrant the air, and whose ver-
dure sparkled in the sun. In the ante
chamber were the gardener and his whole
family, who, sad and silent, seemed also to
say to me,-'Do not depart, our young mas
ter, do not depart! Hortcnse, my elder
sister, clasped me in her arms, and Amelia,
my little sister, who was in corner of the
drawing-room, looking at the engravings
in volume of La Fontaine, approached
me and handed me the book.
Read, read, my brother, said she,
weeping.
1t was the fable of the Two Pigeons
/ rose up hastily and pushed them all back.
4 am twenty years old; am of noble
descent. must have honor and glory.
Let me set out
/ rushed into the post-chaise, when a
woman appeared on the stairway steps. 1t
was Henriette! She wept not, she spoke
not a word-but, pale and trembling, she
with difficulty stood up. With her white
handkerchief, which she held in her hand,
she made me last sign of adleu, and fell
CONSCIOUSNESS. ran to her, raised her up;
I clasped her in my arms, I swore to her
my love for life; and, at the moment con-
seriousness was returning, leaving her to
the care Of my mother and sister, ran to
my conveyance without stopping, without
turning around my head. If l had looked
at Henriette, I would not have left.
> A few minutes after the post-chaise roll
ed along the high-road For long time,
1 thought only upon my sisters, upon Hen
riette, upon my mother, and upon all the
happiness which had leftbehind me; but
these thoughts were effaced as the turrets
ofh RoChe-Bernard disappeared from my
sight, and soon dreams of ambition and
glory took possession of my mind, What