t have Persian carpets to roll naked Cleopatra in!
Where is Cleopatra?
Ah!
So it is you, Louison.
Good day."
[24] The slang term for a painter''s assistant.
Thus did Grantaire, more than intoxicated, launch into speech, catching at the dish-washer in her passage, from his corner in the back room of the Cafe Musain.
Bossuet, extending his hand towards him, tried to impose silence on him, and Grantaire began again worse than ever:--
"Aigle de Meaux, down with your paws.
You produce on me no effect with your gesture of Hippocrates refusing Artaxerxes'' bric-a-brac. I excuse you from the task of soothing me.
Moreover, I am sad. What do you wish me to say to you?
Man is evil, man is deformed; the butterfly is a success, man is a failure.
God made a mistake with that animal.
A crowd offers a choice of ugliness. The first comer is a wretch, Femme--woman--rhymes with infame,-- infamous.
Yes, I have the spleen, complicated with melancholy, with homesickness, plus hypochondria, and I am vexed and I rage, and I yawn, and I am bored, and I am tired to death, and I am stupid! Let God go to the devil!"
"Silence then, capital R!" resumed Bossuet, who was discussing a point of law behind the scenes, and who was plunged more than waist high in a phrase of judicial slang, of which this is the conclusion:--