CHAPTER VIII--THE DEATH OF A HORSE

  "The dinners are better at Édon's than at Bombarda's," exclaimedZéphine.

  "I prefer Bombarda to Édon," declared Blachevelle. "There is moreluxury. It is more Asiatic. Look at the room downstairs; there aremirrors [_glaces_] on the walls."

  "I prefer them [_glaces_, ices] on my plate," said Favourite.

  Blachevelle persisted:--

  "Look at the knives. The handles are of silver at Bombarda's and of boneat Édon's. Now, silver is more valuable than bone."

  "Except for those who have a silver chin," observed Tholomyès.

  He was looking at the dome of the Invalides, which was visible fromBombarda's windows.

  A pause ensued.

  "Tholomyès," exclaimed Fameuil, "Listolier and I were having adiscussion just now."

  "A discussion is a good thing," replied Tholomyès; "a quarrel isbetter."

  "We were disputing about philosophy."

  "Well?"

  "Which do you prefer, Descartes or Spinoza?"

  "Désaugiers," said Tholomyès.

  This decree pronounced, he took a drink, and went on:--

  "I consent to live. All is not at an end on earth since we can stilltalk nonsense. For that I return thanks to the immortal gods. We lie.One lies, but one laughs. One affirms, but one doubts. The unexpectedbursts forth from the syllogism. That is fine. There are still humanbeings here below who know how to open and close the surprise box of theparadox merrily. This, ladies, which you are drinking with so tranquilan air is Madeira wine, you must know, from the vineyard of Coural dasFreiras, which is three hundred and seventeen fathoms above the level ofthe sea. Attention while you drink! three hundred and seventeen fathoms!and Monsieur Bombarda, the magnificent eating-house keeper, gives youthose three hundred and seventeen fathoms for four francs and fiftycentimes."

  Again Fameuil interrupted him:--

  "Tholomyès, your opinions fix the law. Who is your favorite author?"

  "Ber--"

  "Quin?"

  "No; Choux."

  And Tholomyès continued:--

  "Honor to Bombarda! He would equal Munophis of Elephanta if he couldbut get me an Indian dancing-girl, and Thygelion of Chæronea if he couldbring me a Greek courtesan; for, oh, ladies! there were Bombardas inGreece and in Egypt. Apuleius tells us of them. Alas! always the same,and nothing new; nothing more unpublished by the creator in creation!_Nil sub sole novum_, says Solomon; _amor omnibus idem_, says Virgil;and Carabine mounts with Carabin into the bark at Saint-Cloud, asAspasia embarked with Pericles upon the fleet at Samos. One last word.Do you know what Aspasia was, ladies? Although she lived at an epochwhen women had, as yet, no soul, she was a soul; a soul of a rosy andpurple hue, more ardent hued than fire, fresher than the dawn. Aspasiawas a creature in whom two extremes of womanhood met; she was thegoddess prostitute; Socrates plus Manon Lescaut. Aspasia was created incase a mistress should be needed for Prometheus."

  Tholomyès, once started, would have found some difficulty in stopping,had not a horse fallen down upon the quay just at that moment. Theshock caused the cart and the orator to come to a dead halt. It was aBeauceron mare, old and thin, and one fit for the knacker, which wasdragging a very heavy cart. On arriving in front of Bombarda's, theworn-out, exhausted beast had refused to proceed any further. Thisincident attracted a crowd. Hardly had the cursing and indignant carterhad time to utter with proper energy the sacramental word, _Mâtin_ (thejade), backed up with a pitiless cut of the whip, when the jade fell,never to rise again. On hearing the hubbub made by the passers-by,Tholomyès' merry auditors turned their heads, and Tholomyès tookadvantage of the opportunity to bring his allocution to a close withthis melancholy strophe:--

  "Elle était de ce monde ou coucous et carrosses Ont le même destin; Et, rosse, elle a vécu ce que vivant les rosses, L'espace d'un mâtin!" 3

  "Poor horse!" sighed Fantine.

  And Dahlia exclaimed:--

  "There is Fantine on the point of crying over horses. How can one besuch a pitiful fool as that!"

  At that moment Favourite, folding her arms and throwing her head back,looked resolutely at Tholomyès and said:--

  "Come, now! the surprise?"

  "Exactly. The moment has arrived," replied Tholomyès. "Gentlemen,the hour for giving these ladies a surprise has struck. Wait for us amoment, ladies."

  "It begins with a kiss," said Blachevelle.

  "On the brow," added Tholomyès.

  Each gravely bestowed a kiss on his mistress's brow; then all four filedout through the door, with their fingers on their lips.

  Favourite clapped her hands on their departure.

  "It is beginning to be amusing already," said she.

  "Don't be too long," murmured Fantine; "we are waiting for you."