What joys can I still offer you? Ah! I
would fain believe, as a wretched consolation, that God has indeed
created you to make manifest his works, to chant his praises; that he
has put within your breast the irresistible power that has mastered
you-- But no; God is good; he would keep in your heart some thoughts
of the woman who adores you, of the children you are bound to protect.
It is the Evil One alone who is helping you to walk amid these
fathomless abysses, these clouds of outer darkness, where the light of
faith does not guide you,--nothing guides you but a terrible belief in
your own faculties! Were it otherwise, would you not have seen that
you have wasted nine hundred thousand francs in three years? Oh! do me
justice, you, my God on earth! I reproach you not; were we alone I
would bring you, on my knees, all I possess and say, 'Take it, fling
it into your furnace, turn it into smoke'; and I should laugh to see
it float away in vapor. Were you poor, I would beg without shame for
the coal to light your furnace. Oh! could my body yield your hateful
Alkahest, I would fling myself upon those fires with joy, since your
glory, your delight is in that unfound secret. But our children,
Claes, our children! what will become of them if you do not soon
discover this hellish thing? Do you know why Pierquin came to-day? He
came for thirty thousand francs, which you owe and cannot pay. I told
him that you had the money, so that I might spare you the
mortification of his questions; but to get it I must sell our family
silver.
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