| 817 | 818 | 819 | 820 | 821 |
| 1 | 236 | 472 | 708 | 944 |
|
Thus all was over. He was a peer. That pinnacle, under the glory of
which he had, all his life, seen his master, Ursus, bow himself down in
fear--that prodigious pinnacle was under his feet. He was in that place,
so dark and yet so dazzling in England. Old peak of the feudal mountain,
looked up to for six centuries by Europe and by history! Terrible
nimbus of a world of shadow! He had entered into the brightness of its
glory, and his entrance was irrevocable.
He was there in his own sphere, seated on his throne, like the king on
his. He was there and nothing in the future could obliterate the fact.
The royal crown, which he saw under the daïs, was brother to his
coronet. He was a peer of that throne. In the face of majesty he was
peerage; less, but like. Yesterday, what was he? A player. To-day, what
was he? A prince.
Yesterday, nothing; to-day, everything.
It was a sudden confrontation of misery and power, meeting face to face,
and resolving themselves at once into the two halves of a conscience.
Two spectres, Adversity and Prosperity, were taking possession of the
same soul, and each drawing that soul towards itself.
Oh, pathetic division of an intellect, of a will, of a brain, between
two brothers who are enemies! the Phantom of Poverty and the Phantom of
Wealth! Abel and Cain in the same man!
819
Page
Quick Jump
|