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have lost all my illusions。 Alas！ I have forsaken the one heart
that loved me （she pointed to her father as she spoke）； and for
whom？ I have held his kindness cheap； and slighted his affection；
many and many a time I have given him pain； ungrateful wretch
that I am！〃
〃He knew it；〃 said Rastignac。
Just then Goriot's eyelids unclosed； it was only a muscular
contraction； but the Countess' sudden start of reviving hope was
no less dreadful than the dying eyes。
〃Is it possible that he can hear me？〃 cried the Countess。 〃No；〃
she answered herself； and sat down beside the bed。 As Mme。 de
Restaud seemed to wish to sit by her father； Eugene went down to
take a little food。 The boarders were already assembled。
〃Well；〃 remarked the painter； as he joined them； 〃it seems that
there is to be a death…orama upstairs。〃
〃Charles； I think you might find something less painful to joke
about；〃 said Eugene。
〃So we may not laugh here？〃 returned the painter。 〃What harm does
it do？ Bianchon said that the old man was quite insensible。〃
〃Well； then；〃 said the employe from the Museum； 〃he will die as
he has lived。〃
〃My father is dead！〃 shrieked the Countess。
The terrible cry brought Sylvie； Rastignac； and Bianchon； Mme。 de
Restaud had fainted away。 When she recovered they carried her
downstairs； and put her into the cab that stood waiting at the
door。 Eugene sent Therese with her； and bade the maid take the
Countess to Mme。 de Nucingen。
Bianchon came down to them。
〃Yes； he is dead；〃 he said。
〃Come； sit down to dinner； gentlemen；〃 said Mme。 Vauquer； 〃or the
soup will be cold。〃
The two students sat down together。
〃What is the next thing to be done？〃 Eugene asked of Bianchon。
〃I have closed his eyes and composed his limbs；〃 said Bianchon。
〃When the certificate has been officially registered at the
Mayor's office； we will sew him in his winding sheet and bury him
somewhere。 What do you think we ought to do？〃
〃He will not smell at his bread like this any more；〃 said the
painter； mimicking the old man's little trick。
〃Oh； hang it all！〃 cried the tutor； 〃let Father Goriot drop； and
let us have something else for a change。 He is a standing dish；
and we have had him with every sauce this hour or more。 It is one
of the privileges of the good city of Paris that anybody may be
born； or live； or die there without attracting any attention
whatsoever。 Let us profit by the advantages of civilization。
There are fifty or sixty deaths every day； if you have a mind to
do it； you can sit down at any time and wail over whole hecatombs
of dead in Paris。 Father Goriot has gone off the hooks； has he？
So much the better for him。 If you venerate his memory； keep it
to yourselves； and let the rest of us feed in peace。〃
〃Oh； to be sure；〃 said the widow； 〃it is all the better for him
that he is dead。 It looks as though he had had trouble enough；
poor soul； while he was alive。〃
And this was all the funeral oration delivered over him who had
been for Eugene the type and embodiment of Fatherhood。
The fifteen lodgers began to talk as usual。 When Bianchon and
Eugene had satisfied their hunger； the rattle of spoons and
forks； the boisterous conversation； the expressions on the faces
that bespoke various degrees of want of feeling； gluttony； or
indifference； everything about them made them shiver with
loathing。 They went out to find a priest to watch that night with
the dead。 It was necessary to measure their last pious cares by
the scanty sum of money that remained。 Before nine o'clock that
evening the body was laid out on the bare sacking of the bedstead
in the desolate room； a lighted candle stood on either side； and
the priest watched at the foot。 Rastignac made inquiries of this
latter as to the expenses of the funeral； and wrote to the Baron
de Nucingen and the Comte de Restaud； entreating both gentlemen
to authorize their man of business to defray the charges of
laying their father…in…law in the grave。 He sent Christophe with
the letters； then he went to bed； tired out； and slept。
Next day Bianchon and Rastignac were obliged to take the
certificate to the registrar themselves； and by twelve o'clock
the formalities were completed。 Two hours went by； no word came
from the Count nor from the Baron； nobody appeared to act for
them； and Rastignac had already been obliged to pay the priest。
Sylvie asked ten francs for sewing the old man in his winding…
sheet and making him ready for the grave； and Eugene and Bianchon
calculated that they had scarcely sufficient to pay for the
funeral； if nothing was forthcoming from the dead man's family。
So it was the medical student who laid him in a pauper's coffin；
despatched from Bianchon's hospital； whence he obtained it at a
cheaper rate。
〃Let us play those wretches a trick；〃 said he。 〃Go to the
cemetery； buy a grave for five years at Pere…Lachaise； and
arrange with the Church and the undertaker to have a third…class
funeral。 If the daughters and their husbands decline to repay
you； you can carve this on the headstone'HERE LIES M。 GORIOT；
FATHER OF THE COMTESSE DE RESTAUD AND THE BARONNE DE NUCINGEN；
INTERRED AT THE EXPENSE OF TWO STUDENTS。' 〃
Eugene took part of his friend's advice； but only after he had
gone in person first to M。 and Mme。 de Nucingen； and then to M。
and Mme。 de Restauda fruitless errand。 He went no further than
the doorstep in either house。 The servants had received strict
orders to admit no one。
〃Monsieur and Madame can see no visitors。 They have just lost
their father； and are in deep grief over their loss。〃
Eugene's Parisian experience told him that it was idle to press
the point。 Something clutched strangely at his heart when he saw
that it was impossible to reach Delphine。
〃Sell some of your ornaments；〃 he wrote hastily in the porter's
room； 〃so that your father may be decently laid in his last
resting…place。〃
He sealed the note； and begged the porter to give it to Therese
for her mistress； but the man took it to the Baron de Nucingen；
who flung the note into the fire。 Eugene； having finished his
errands； returned to the lodging…house about three o'clock。 In
spite of himself； the tears came into his eyes。 The coffin； in
its scanty covering of black cloth； was standing there on the
pavement before the gate； on two chairs。 A withered sprig of
hyssop was soaking in the holy water bowl of silver…plated
copper； there was not a soul in the street； not a passer…by had
stopped to sprinkle the coffin； there was not even an attempt at
a black drapery over the wicket。 It was a pauper who lay there；
no one made a pretence of mourning for him； he had neither
friends nor kindredthere was no one to follow him to the grave。
Bianchon's duties compelled him to be at the hospital； but he had
left a few lines for Eugene； telling his friend about the
arrangements he had made for the burial se