Well and good, now for an effort of imagination----"
Lucien looked curiously at his protector.
"Here, in this caleche beside the Abbe Carlos Herrera, canon of
Toledo, secret envoy from His Majesty Ferdinand VII. to his Majesty
the King of France, bearer of a despatch thus worded it may be--'When
you have delivered me, hang all those whom I favor at this moment,
more especially the bearer of this despatch, for then he can tell no
tales'--well, beside this envoy sits a young man who has nothing in
common with that poet recently deceased. I have fished you out of the
water, I have brought you to life again, you belong to me as the
creature belongs to the creator, as the efrits of fairytales belong to
the genii, as the janissary to the Sultan, as the soul to the body. I
will sustain you in the way to power with a strong hand; and at the
same time I promise that your life shall be a continual course of
pleasure, honors, and enjoyment. You shall never want for money. You
shall shine, you shall go bravely in the eyes of the world; while I,
crouching in the mud, will lay a firm foundation for the brilliant
edifice of your fortunes. For I love power for its own sake. I shall
always rejoice in your enjoyment, forbidden to me. In short, my self
shall become your self! Well, if a day should come when this pact
between man and the tempter, this agreement between the child and the
diplomatist should no longer suit your ideas, you can still look about
for some quiet spot, like that pool of which you were speaking, and
drown yourself; you will only be as you are now, or a little more or a
little less wretched and dishonored.
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