"But I dare not begin. There are passages in the story which are
dangerous to the narrator. If I become excited, you will make me hold
my peace."

"Speak."

"I obey.

"Ernest-Jean Sarrasine was the only son of a prosecuting attorney of
Franche-Comte," I began after a pause. "His father had, by faithful
work, amassed a fortune which yielded an income of six to eight
thousand francs, then considered a colossal fortune for an attorney in
the provinces. Old Maitre Sarrasine, having but one child, determined
to give him a thorough education; he hoped to make a magistrate of
him, and to live long enough to see, in his old age, the grandson of
Mathieu Sarrasine, a ploughman in the Saint-Die country, seated on the
lilies, and dozing through the sessions for the greater glory of the
Parliament; but Heaven had not that joy in store for the attorney.
Young Sarrasine, entrusted to the care of the Jesuits at an early age,
gave indications of an extraordinarily unruly disposition. His was the
childhood of a man of talent. He would not study except as his
inclination led him, often rebelled, and sometimes remained for whole
hours at a time buried in tangled meditations, engaged now in watching
his comrades at play, now in forming mental pictures of Homer's
heroes. And, when he did choose to amuse himself, he displayed
extraordinary ardor in his games. Whenever there was a contest of any
sort between a comrade and himself, it rarely ended without bloodshed.
If he were the weaker, he would use his teeth. Active and passive by
turns, either lacking in aptitude, or too intelligent, his abnormal
temperament caused him to distrust his masters as much as his