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Ursula
by Honore de Balzac
Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley
DEDICATION
To Mademoiselle Sophie Surville；
It is a true pleasure； my dear niece； to dedicate to you this
book； the subject and details of which have won the
approbation； so difficult to win； of a young girl to whom the
world is still unknown； and who has compromised with none of
the lofty principles of a saintly education。 Young girls are
indeed a formidable public； for they ought not to be allowed
to read books less pure than the purity of their souls； they
are forbidden certain reading； just as they are carefully
prevented from seeing social life as it is。 Must it not
therefore be a source of pride to a writer to find that he has
pleased you？
God grant that your affection for me has not misled you。 Who can tell？
the future； which you； I hope； will see； though not； perhaps。
Your uncle；
De Balzac。
URSULA
CHAPTER I
THE FRIGHTENED HEIRS
Entering Nemours by the road to Paris； we cross the canal du Loing；
the steep banks of which serve the double purpose of ramparts to the
fields and of picturesque promenades for the inhabitants of that
pretty little town。 Since 1830 several houses had unfortunately been
built on the farther side of the bridge。 If this sort of suburb
increases； the place will lose its present aspect of graceful
originality。
In 1829； however； both sides of the road were clear； and the master of
the post route； a tall； stout man about sixty years of age； sitting
one fine autumn morning at the highest part of the bridge； could take
in at a glance the whole of what is called in his business a 〃ruban de
queue。〃 The month of September was displaying its treasures； the
atmosphere glowed above the grass and the pebbles； no cloud dimmed the
blue of the sky； the purity of which in all parts； even close to the
horizon； showed the extreme rarefaction of the air。 So Minoret…
Levrault （for that was the post master's name） was obliged to shade
his eyes with one hand to keep them from being dazzled。 With the air
of a man who was tired of waiting； he looked first to the charming
meadows which lay to the right of the road where the aftermath was
springing up； then to the hill…slopes covered with copses which
extend； on the left； from Nemours to Bouron。 He could hear in the
valley of the Loing； where the sounds on the road were echoed back
from the hills； the trot of his own horses and the crack of his
postilion's whip。
None but a post master could feel impatient within sight of such
meadows； filled with cattle worthy of Paul Potter and glowing beneath
a Raffaelle sky； and beside a canal shaded with trees after Hobbema。
Whoever knows Nemours knows that nature is there as beautiful as art；
whose mission is to spiritualize it； there； the landscape has ideas
and creates thought。 But； on catching sight of Minoret…Levrault an
artist would very likely have left the view to sketch the man； so
original was his in his native commonness。 Unite in a human being all
the conditions of the brute and you have a Caliban； who is certainly a
great thing。 Wherever form rules； sentiment disappears。 The post
master； a living proof of that axiom； presented a physiognomy in which
an observer could with difficulty trace； beneath the vivid carnation
of its coarsely developed flesh； the semblance of a soul。 His cap of
blue cloth； with a small peak； and sides fluted like a melon； outlined
a head of vast dimensions； showing that Gall's science has not yet
produced its chapter of exceptions。 The gray and rather shiny hair
which appeared below the cap showed that other causes than mental toil
or grief had whitened it。 Large ears stood out from the head； their
edges scarred with the eruptions of his over…abundant blood； which
seemed ready to gush at the least exertion。 His skin was crimson under
an outside layer of brown； due to the habit of standing in the sun。
The roving gray eyes； deep…sunken； and hidden by bushy black brows；
were like those of the Kalmucks who entered France in 1815； if they
ever sparkled it was only under the influence of a covetous thought。
His broad pug nose was flattened at the base。 Thick lips； in keeping
with a repulsive double chin； the beard of which； rarely cleaned more
than once a week； was encircled with a dirty silk handkerchief twisted
to a cord； a short neck； rolling in fat； and heavy cheeks completed
the characteristics of brute force which sculptors give to their
caryatids。 Minoret…Levrault was like those statues； with this
difference； that whereas they supported an edifice； he had more than
he could well do to support himself。 You will meet many such Atlases
in the world。 The man's torso was a block； it was like that of a bull
standing on his hind…legs。 His vigorous arms ended in a pair of thick；
hard hands； broad and strong and well able to handle whip； reins； and
pitchfork； hands which his postilions never attempted to trifle with。
The enormous stomach of this giant rested on thighs which were as
large as the body of an ordinary adult； and feet like those of an
elephant。 Anger was a rare thing with him； but it was terrible；
apoplectic； when it did burst forth。 Though violent and quite
incapable of reflection； the man had never done anything that
justified the sinister suggestions of his bodily presence。 To all
those who felt afraid of him his postilions would reply； 〃Oh！ he's not
bad。〃
The master of Nemours； to use the common abbreviation of the country；
wore a velveteen shooting…jacket of bottle…green； trousers of green
linen with great stripes； and an ample yellow waistcoat of goat's
skin； in the pocket of which might be discerned the round outline of a
monstrous snuff…box。 A snuff…box to a pug nose is a law without
exception。
A son of the Revolution and a spectator of the Empire； Minoret…
Levrault did not meddle with politics； as to his religious opinions；
he had never set foot in a church except to be married； as to his
private principles； he kept them within the civil code； all that the
law did not forbid or could not prevent he considered right。 He never
read anything but the journal of the department of the Seine…et…Oise；
and a few printed instructions relating to his business。 He was
considered a clever agriculturist； but his knowledge was only
practical。 In him the moral being did not belie the physical。 He
seldom spoke； and before speaking he always took a pinch of snuff to
give himself time； not to find ideas； but words。 If he had been a
talker you would have felt that he was out of keeping with himself。
Reflecting that this elephant minus a trumpet and without a mind was
called Minoret…Levrault； we are compelled to agree with Sterne as to
the occult power of names； which sometimes ridicule and sometimes
foretell characters。
In spite of his visible incapacity he had acquired during the last
thirty…six years （the Revolution helping him） an income of thirty
thousand francs； derived from farm lands； woods and meadows。 If
Minoret； being master of the coach…lines of Nemours and those of the
Gatinais to Paris； still worked at his business； it was less from
habit than for the sake of an only son； to whom he was anxious to give
a fine career。 This son； who was now （to use an expression of the
peasantry） a 〃monsieur；〃 had just completed his legal studies and was
about to take his degree as licentiate； preparatory to being called to
the Bar。 Monsieur and Madame Minoret…Levraultfor behind our colossus
every one will perceive a woman without whom this signal good…fortune
would have been impossibleleft their son free to choose his own
career； he might be a notary in Paris； king's…attorney in some
district； collector of customs no matter where； broker； or post
master； as he pleased。 What fancy of his could they ever refuse him？
to what position of life might he not aspire as the son of a man about
whom the whole countryside； from Montargis to Essonne； was in the
habit of saying； 〃Pere Minoret doesn't even know how rich he is〃？
This saying had obtained fresh force about four years before this
history begins； when Minoret； after selling his inn； built stables and
a splendid dwelling； and removed the post…house from the Grand'Rue to
the wharf。 The new establishment cost two hundred thousand francs；
which the gossip of thirty miles in circumference more than doubled。
The Nemours mail…coach service requires a large number of horses。 It
goes to Fontainebleau on the road to Paris； and from there diverges to
Montargis and also to Montereau。 The relays are long； and the sandy
soil of the Montargis road calls for the mythical third horse； always
paid for but never seen。 A man of Minoret's build； and Minoret's
wealth； at the head of such an establishment might well be called；
without contradiction； the master of Nemours。 Though he never thought
of God