Unconscious Comedians.....................................................................................................................................1

Leon de Lora, our celebrated landscape painter, belongs to one of the noblest families of the Roussillon

(Spanish originally) which, although distinguished for the antiquity of its race, has been doomed for a century

to the proverbial poverty of hidalgos. Coming, lightfooted, to Paris from the department of the Eastern

Pyrenees, with the sum of eleven francs in his pocket for all viaticum, he had in some degree forgotten the

miseries and privations of his childhood and his family amid the other privations and miseries which are

never lacking to "rapins," whose whole fortune consists of intrepid vocation. Later, the cares of fame and

If you have followed the capricious and meandering course of these studies, perhaps you will remember

Mistigris, Schinner's pupil, one of the heroes of "A Start in Life" (Scenes from Private Life), and his brief

apparitions in other Scenes. In 1845, this landscape painter, emulator of the Hobbemas, Ruysdaels, and

Lorraines, resembles no more the shabby, frisky rapin whom we then knew. Now an illustrious man, he owns

a charming house in the rue de Berlin, not far from the hotel de Brambourg, where his friend Brideau lives,

and quite close to the house of Schinner, his early master. He is a member of the Institute and an officer of

the Legion of honor; he is thirtysix years old, has an income of twenty thousand francs from the Funds, his

pictures sell for their weight in gold, and (what seems to him more extraordinary than the invitations he

receives occasionally to court balls) his name and fame, mentioned so often for the last sixteen years by the

press of Europe, has at last penetrated to the valley of the Eastern Pyrenees, where vegetate three veritable

Loras: his father, his eldest brother, and an old paternal aunt, Mademoiselle Urraca y Lora.

In the maternal line the painter has no relation left except a cousin, the nephew of his mother, residing in a

small manufacturing town in the department. This cousin was the first to bethink himself of Leon. But it was

not until 1840 that Leon de Lora received a letter from Monsieur Sylvestre PalafoxCastalGazonal (called

simply Gazonal) to which he replied that he was assuredly himself,that is to say, the son of the late Leonie

During the summer of 1841 cousin Sylvestre Gazonal went to inform the illustrious unknown family of Lora

that their little Leon had not gone to the Rio de la Plata, as they supposed, but was now one of the greatest

geniuses of the French school of painting; a fact the family did not believe. The eldest son, Don Juan de Lora

Now the said Gazonal was intending to go to Paris to prosecute a lawsuit which the prefect of the Eastern

Pyrenees had arbitrarily removed from the usual jurisdiction, transferring it to that of the Council of State.

The worthy provincial determined to investigate this act, and to ask his Parisian cousin the reason of such

highhanded measures. It thus happened that Monsieur Gazonal came to Paris, took shabby lodgings in the

rue CroixdesPetitsChamps, and was amazed to see the palace of his cousin in the rue de Berlin. Being

told that the painter was then travelling in Italy, he renounced, for the time being, the intention of asking his

advice, and doubted if he should ever find his maternal relationship acknowledged by so great a man.

During the years 1843 and 1844 Gazonal attended to his lawsuit. This suit concerned a question as to the

current and level of a stream of water and the necessity of removing a dam, in which dispute the

administration, instigated by the abutters on the river banks, had meddled. The removal of the dam threatened

the existence of Gazonal's manufactory. In 1845, Gazonal considered his cause as wholly lost; the secretary

of the Master of Petitions, charged with the duty of drawing up the report, had confided to him that the said

report would assuredly be against him, and his own lawyer confirmed the statement. Gazonal, though

commander of the National Guard in his own town and one of the most capable manufacturers of the

department, found himself of so little account in Paris, and he was, moreover, so frightened by the costs of

living and the dearness of even the most trifling things, that he kept himself, all this time, secluded in his

shabby lodgings. The Southerner, deprived of his sun, execrated Paris, which he called a manufactory of

rheumatism. As he added up the costs of his suit and his living, he vowed within himself to poison the prefect

on his return, or to minotaurize him. In his moments of deepest sadness he killed the prefect outright; in gayer

One morning as he ate his breakfast and cursed his fate, he picked up a newspaper savagely. The following

lines, ending an article, struck Gazonal as if the mysterious voice which speaks to gamblers before they win

had sounded in his ear: "Our celebrated landscape painter, Leon de Lora, lately returned from Italy, will

exhibit several pictures at the Salon; thus the exhibition promises, as we see, to be most brilliant." With the

suddenness of action that distinguishes the sons of the sunny South, Gazonal sprang from his lodgings to the

street, from the street to a streetcab, and drove to the rue de Berlin to find his cousin.

Leon de Lora sent word by a servant to his cousin Gazonal that he invited him to breakfast the next day at the

Cafe de Paris, but he was now engaged in a matter which did not allow him to receive his cousin at the

present moment. Gazonal, like a true Southerner, recounted all his troubles to the valet.

The next day at ten o'clock, Gazonal, much too welldressed for the occasion (he had put on his bottleblue

coat with brass buttons, a frilled shirt, a white waistcoat and yellow gloves), awaited his amphitryon a full

hour, stamping his feet on the boulevard, after hearing from the master of the cafe that "these gentlemen"

"Between eleven and halfpast," he said when he related his adventures to his cronies in the provinces, "two

Parisians dressed in simple frockcoats, looking like NOTHING AT ALL, called out when they saw me on

The speaker was Bixiou, with whom Leon de Lora had armed himself to "bring out" his provincial cousin, in

"'Don't be vexed, cousin, I'm at your service!' cried out that little Leon, taking me in his arms," related

Gazonal on his return home. "The breakfast was splendid. I thought I was going blind when I saw the number

of bits of gold it took to pay that bill. Those fellows must earn their weight in gold, for I saw my cousin give

During this monstrous breakfastadvisedly so called in view of six dozen Osten oysters, six cutlets a la

Soubise, a chicken a la Marengo, lobster mayonnaise, green peas, a mushroom pasty, washed down with

three bottles of Bordeaux, three bottles of Champagne, plus coffee and liqueurs, to say nothing of

relishesGazonal was magnificent in his diatribes against Paris. The worthy manufacturer complained of the

length of the fourpound breadloaves, the height of the houses, the indifference of the passengers in the

streets to one another, the cold, the rain, the cost of hackneycoaches, all of which and much else he

bemoaned in so witty a manner that the two artists took a mighty fancy to cousin Gazonal, and made him

"My lawsuit," he said in his Southern accent and rolling his r's, "is a very simple thing; they want my

manufactory. I've employed here in Paris a dolt of a lawyer, to whom I give twenty francs every time he

opens an eye, and he is always asleep. He's a slug, who drives in his coach, while I go afoot and he splashes

me. I see now I ought to have had a carriage! On the other hand, that Council of State are a pack of

donothings, who leave their duties to little scamps every one of whom is bought up by our prefect. That's

my lawsuit! They want my manufactory! Well, they'll get it! and they must manage the best they can with my

workmen, a hundred of 'em, who'll make them sing another tune before they've done with them."

"Two years. Ha! that meddling prefect! he shall pay dear for this; I'll have his life if I have to give mine on

"Ha! that's still more queer; he's Master of Petitions, professor of something or other at the Sorbonne,a

fellow who writes things in reviews, and for whom I have the profoundest contempt."

"Yes, that's his name," replied Gazonal. "Massol and Vignonthere you have Social Reason, in which

"There must be some way out of it," said Leon de Lora. "You see, cousin, all things are possible in Paris for

good as well as for evil, for the just as well as the unjust. There's nothing that can't be done, undone, and

"The devil take me if I stay ten days more in this hole of a place, the dullest in all France!"

The two cousins and Bixiou were at this moment walking from one end to the other of that sheet of asphalt

on which, between the hours of one and three, it is difficult to avoid seeing some of the personages in honor

of whom Fame puts one or the other of her trumpets to her lips. Formerly that locality was the Place Royale;

next it was the Pont Neuf; in these days this privilege had been acquired by the Boulevard des Italiens.

"Paris," said the painter to his cousin, "is an instrument on which we must know how to play; if we stand here

ten minutes I'll give you your first lesson. There, look!" he said, raising his cane and pointing to a couple who

THAT was an old woman, in a bonnet which had spent six months in a showcase, a very pretentious gown

and a faded tartan shawl, whose face had been buried twenty years of her life in a damp lodge, and whose

swollen handbag betokened no better social position than that of an exportress. With her was a slim little

girl, whose eyes, fringed with black lashes, had lost their innocence and showed great weariness; her face, of

a pretty shape, was fresh and her hair abundant, her forehead charming but audacious, her bust thin,in

"That particular rat," said Leon, with a friendly nod to Mademoiselle Ninette, "may perhaps win your suit for

Gazonal bounded; but Bixiou had held him by the arm ever since they left the cafe, thinking perhaps that the

"That rat, who is just leaving a rehearsal at the Operahouse, is going home to eat a miserable dinner, and

will return about three o'clock to dress, if she dances in the ballet this eveningas she will, today being

Monday. This rat is already an old rat for she is thirteen years of age. Two years from now that creature may

be worth sixty thousand francs; she will be all or nothing, a great danseuse or a marcheuse, a celebrated

person or a vulgar courtesan. She has worked hard since she was eight years old. Such as you see her, she is

worn out with fatigue; she exhausted her body this morning in the dancing class, she is just leaving a

rehearsal where the evolutions are as complicated as a Chinese puzzle; and she'll go through them again to

night. The rat is one of the primary elements of the Opera; she is to the leading danseuse what a junior clerk

"Porters, paupers, actors, dancers," replied Bixiou. "Only the lowest depths of poverty could force a child to

subject her feet and joints to positive torture, to keep herself virtuous out of mere speculation until she is

eighteen years of age, and to live with some horrible old crone like a beautiful plant in a dressing of manure.

You shall see now a procession defiling before you, one after the other, of men of talent, little and great,

artists in seed or flower, who are raising to the glory of France that everyday monument called the Opera, an

assemblage of forces, wills, and forms of genius, nowhere collected as in Paris.

"Yes, from a threefrancssixtysous seat among the gods," replied the landscape painter; "just as you have

seen Paris in the rue Croixdes PetitsChamps, without knowing anything about it. What did they give at

"Well," said Leon, "Matilde's grand DUO must have delighted you. What do you suppose that charming

"Malibran kept up on brandybut it killed her in the end. Another thing! You have seen the ballet, and you'll

now see it defiling past you in its everyday clothes, without knowing that the face of your lawsuit depends

Leon pointed to one of those handsome creatures who at twentyfive years of age have lived sixty, and

whose beauty is so real and so sure of being cultivated that they make no display of it. She was tall, and

walked well, with the arrogant look of a dandy; her toilet was remarkable for its ruinous simplicity.

"That is Carabine," said Bixiou, who gave her, as did Leon, a slight nod to which she responded by a smile.

"A marcheuse is a rat of great beauty whom her mother, real or fictitious, has sold as soon as it was clear she

would become neither first, second, nor third danseuse, but who prefers the occupation of coryphee to any

other, for the main reason that having spent her youth in that employment she is unfitted for any other. She

has been rejected at the minor theatres where they want danseuses; she has not succeeded in the three towns

where ballets are given; she has not had the money, or perhaps the desire to go to foreign countriesfor

perhaps you don't know that the great school of dancing in Paris supplies the whole world with male and

female dancers. Thus a rat who becomes a marcheuse,that is to say, an ordinary figurante in a

ballet,must have some solid attachment which keeps her in Paris: either a rich man she does not love or a

poor man she loves too well. The one you have just seen pass will probably dress and redress three times this

evening,as a princess, a peasantgirl, a Tyrolese; by which she will earn about two hundred francs a

"If you should go to her house," said Bixiou, "you would find there a chambermaid, a cook, and a

manservant. She occupies a fine apartment in the rue SaintGeorges; in short, she is, in proportion to French

fortunes of the present day compared with those of former times, a relic of the eighteenth century 'operagirl.'

Carabine is a power; at this moment she governs du Tillet, a banker who is very influential in the Chamber of

"And above these two rounds in the ballet ladder what comes next?" asked Gazonal.

"Look!" said his cousin, pointing to an elegant caleche which was turning at that moment from the boulevard

into the rue Grange Bateliere, "there's one of the leading danseuses whose name on the posters attracts all

Paris. That woman earns sixty thousand francs a year and lives like a princess; the price of your manufactory

all told wouldn't suffice to buy you the privilege of bidding her goodmorning a dozen times."

"Do you see," said Bixiou, "that young man who is sitting on the front seat of her carriage? Well, he's a

viscount who bears a fine old name; he's her first gentleman of the bedchamber; does all her business with

the newspapers; carries messages of peace or war in the morning to the director of the Opera; and takes

"Well, well, my good friends, that's the finishing touch! I see now that I knew nothing of the ways of Paris."

"At any rate, you are learning what you can see in ten minutes in the Passage de l'Opera," said Bixiou. "Look

Two persons, a man and a woman, came out of the Passage at that moment. The woman was neither plain nor

pretty; but her dress had that distinction of style and cut and color which reveals an artist; the man had the air

"There," said Bixiou, "is a baritone and a second danseuse. The baritone is a man of immense talent, but a

baritone voice being only an accessory to the other parts he scarcely earns what the second danseuse earns.

The danseuse, who was celebrated before Taglioni and Ellsler appeared, has preserved to our day some of the

old traditions of the character dance and pantomime. If the two others had not revealed in the art of dancing a

poetry hitherto unperceived, she would have been the leading talent; as it is, she is reduced to the second line.

But for all that, she fingers her thirty thousand francs a year, and her faithful friend is a peer of France, very

influential in the Chamber. And see! there's a danseuse of the third order, who, as a dancer, exists only

through the omnipotence of a newspaper. If her engagement were not renewed the ministry would have one

more journalistic enemy on its back. The corps de ballet is a great power; consequently it is considered better

form in the upper ranks of dandyism and politics to have relations with dance than with song. In the stalls,

where the habitues of the Opera congregate, the saying 'Monsieur is all for singing' is a form of ridicule."

A short man with a common face, quite simply dressed, passed them at this moment.

"There's the other half of the Opera receiptsthat man who just went by; the tenor. There is no longer any

play, poem, music, or representation of any kind possible unless some celebrated tenor can reach a certain

note. The tenor is love, he is the Voice that touches the heart, that vibrates in the soul, and his value is

reckoned at a much higher salary than that of a minister. One hundred thousand francs for a throat, one

hundred thousand francs for a couple of anklebones,those are the two financial scourges of the Opera."

"I am amazed," said Gazonal, "at the hundreds of thousands of francs walking about here."

"We'll amaze you a good deal more, my dear cousin," said Leon de Lora. "We'll take Paris as an artist takes

his violoncello, and show you how it is played,in short, how people amuse themselves in Paris."

"He isn't a machine, he is a machinist. Gaillard is a friend of ours who has ended a miscellaneous career by

becoming the editor of a newspaper, and whose character and finances are governed by movements

comparable to those of the tides. Gaillard can contribute to make you win your lawsuit"

When they reached Theodore Gaillard's abode, which was now in the rue de Menars, the valet ushered the

three friends into a boudoir and asked them to wait, as monsieur was in secret conference.

"With a man who is selling him the incarceration of an UNSEIZABLE debtor," replied a handsome woman

"That is Madame Gaillard," replied Leon de Lora, speaking low into his cousin's ear. "She is the most

humbleminded woman in Paris, for she had the public and has contented herself with a husband."

"What is your will, messeigneurs?" said the facetious editor, seeing his two friends and imitating Frederic

Theodore Gaillard, formerly a wit, had ended by becoming a stupid man in consequence of remaining

constantly in one centre,a moral phenomenon frequently to be observed in Paris. His principal method of

conversation consisted in sowing his speeches with sayings taken from plays then in vogue and pronounced

"Well, this time, we've got him, sure," said Gaillard's other visitor, apparently by way of conclusion.

"ARE you sure of it, pere Fromenteau?" asked Gaillard. "This it the eleventh time you've caught him at night

"How could I help it? I never saw such a debtor! he's a locomotive; goes to sleep in Paris and wakes up in the

SeineetOise. A safety lock I call him." Seeing a smile on Gaillard's face he added: "That's a saying in our

business. Pinch a man, means arrest him, lock him up. The criminal police have another term. Vidoeq said to

"Does monsieur grease my paws?" asked Fromenteau of Gaillard, in a threatening but cool tone.

"'A question that of fifty centimes'" (Les Saltimbauques), replied the editor, taking out five francs and

"Yes, monsieur," said the spy. "Some people give us information without knowing they do so, and without

"Do you belong to the police?" asked Gazonal, eying with uneasy curiosity the hard, impassible little man,

"As many as five," replied the man. "Criminal, the head of which was Vidoeq; secret police, which keeps an

eye on the other police, the head of it being always unknown; political police,that's Fouche's. Then there's

the police of Foreign Affairs, and finally, the palace police (of the Emperor, Louis XVIII., etc.), always

squabbling with that of the quai Malaquais. It came to an end under Monsieur Decazes. I belonged to the

The four gentlemen looked at each other with one thought: "How many heads he must have brought to the

"Nowadays, they are trying to get on without us. Folly!" continued the little man, who began to seem

terrible. "Since 1830 they want honest men at the prefecture! I resigned, and I've made myself a small

"He is the right arm of the commercial police," said Gaillard in Bixiou's ear, "but you can never find out who

"The more rascally a business is, the more honor it needs. I'm for him who pays me best," continued

Fromenteau addressing Gaillard. "You want to recover fifty thousand francs and you talk farthings to your

means of action. Give me five hundred francs and your man is pinched to night, for we spotted him

"Lizette wants a shawl," said the spy, not a muscle of his face moving. "I call her Lizette because of

"You have a Lizette, and you stay in such a business!" cried the virtuous Gazonal.

"It is amusing! People may cry up the pleasures of hunting and fishing as much as they like but to stalk a man

"Certainly," said Gazonal, reflectively, speaking to himself, "they must have great talent."

"If I were to enumerate the qualities which make a man remarkable in our vocation," said Fromenteau, whose

rapid glance had enabled him to fathom Gazonal completely, "you'd think I was talking of a man of genius.

First, we must have the eyes of a lynx; next, audacity (to tear into houses like bombs, accost the servants as if

we knew them, and propose treacheryalways agreed to); next, memory, sagacity, invention (to make

schemes, conceived rapidly, never the samefor spying must be guided by the characters and habits of the

persons spied upon; it is a gift of heaven); and, finally, agility, vigor. All these facilities and qualities,

monsieur, are depicted on the door of the GymnaseAmoros as Virtue. Well, we must have them all, under

pain of losing the salaries given us by the State, the rue de Jerusalem, or the minister of Commerce."

Fromenteau looked at the provincial without replying, without betraying the smallest sign of feeling, and

"It has something the effect of a dinnerpill," said the worthy provincial, while Gaillard and Bixiou were

"I'll give you an answer tonight at Carabine's," said Gaillard aloud, reseating himself at his desk without

"His paper has twentytwo thousand subscribers," said Leon de Lora. "He is one of the five great powers of

the day, and he hasn't, in the morning, the time to be polite. Now," continued Leon, speaking to Bixiou, "if

we are going to the Chamber to help him with his lawsuit let us take the longest way round."

"Words said by great men are like silvergilt spoons with the gilt washed off; by dint of repetition they lose

"Bravo!" cried Bixiou. "If we keep on in this way, we shall have an amusing day of it."

"Gazonal," said Leon, "I shall make the man pose for you; but mind that you keep a serious face, like the king

on a fivefranc piece, for you are going to see a choice original, a man whose importance has turned his

head. In these days, my dear fellow, under our new political dispensation, every human being tries to cover

himself with glory, and most of them cover themselves with ridicule; hence a lot of living caricatures quite

"Fame! none but fools want that," replied Bixiou. "Your cousin wears the cross, but I'm the better dressed of

After this remark, which may explain why orators and other great statesmen no longer put the ribbon in their

buttonholes when in Paris, Leon showed Gazonal a sign, bearing, in golden letters, the illustrious name of

"Vital, successor to Finot, manufacturer of hats" (no longer "hatter" as formerly), whose advertisements

brought in more money to the newspapers than those of any halfdozen vendors of pills or sugarplums,the

"My dear fellow," said Bixiou to Gazonal, pointing to the splendors of the showwindow, "Vital has forty

"And he stays a hatter!" cried the Southerner, with a bound that almost broke the arm which Bixiou had

"You shall see the man," said Leon. "You need a hat and you shall have one gratis."

"Hein! what style!" said Leon to his cousin; then he added, addressing the clerk: "Could we speak to him

It was a bourgeois voice, the voice of one eligible to the Chamber, a powerful voice, a wealthy voice.

Vital deigned to show himself, dressed entirely in black cloth, with a splendid frilled shirt adorned with one

diamond. The three friends observed a young and pretty woman sitting near the desk, working at some

Vital is a man between thirty and forty years of age, with a natural joviality now repressed by ambitious

ideas. He is blessed with that medium height which is the privilege of sound organizations. He is rather

plump, and takes great pains with his person. His forehead is getting bald, but he uses that circumstance to

give himself the air of a man consumed by thought. It is easy to see by the way his wife looks at him and

listens to him that she believes in the genius and glory of her husband. Vital loves artists, not that he has any

taste for art, but from fellowship; for he feels himself an artist, and makes this felt by disclaiming that title of

nobility, and placing himself with constant premeditation at so great a distance from the arts that persons may

be forced to say to him: "You have raised the construction of hats to the height of a science."

"Why, monsieur! in fifteen days?" replied Vital, "and for you! Two months would hardly suffice to invent a

shape in keeping with your countenance. See, here is your lithographic portrait: I have studied it most

carefully. I would not give myself that trouble for a prince; but you are more; you are an artist, and you

"This is one of our greatest inventors," said Bixiou presenting Gazonal. "He might be as great as Jacquart if

he would only let himself die. Our friend, a manufacturer of cloth, has discovered a method of replacing the

indigo in old blue coats, and he wants to see you as another great phenomenon, because he has heard of your

saying, 'The hat is the man.' That speech of yours enraptured him. Ah! Vital, you have faith; you believe in

"Shall I have the honor to cover your head?" said Vital, with joyful obsequiousness.

"Of course, of course; I ask no other fee than to be quoted by you, messieurs Monsieur needs a picturesque

hat, something in the style of Monsieur Lousteau's," he continued, looking at Gazonal with the eye of a

"Oh! for a few persons only; for those who know how to appreciate the value of the pains I bestow upon

them. Now, take the aristocracy there is but one man there who has truly comprehended the Hat; and that

is the Prince de Bethune. How is it that men do not consider, as women do, that the hat is the first thing that

strikes the eye? And why have they never thought of changing the present system, which is, let us say it

frankly, ignoble? Yes, ignoble; and yet a Frenchman is, of all nationalities, the one most persistent in this

folly! I know the difficulties of a change, messieurs. I don't speak of my own writings on the matter, which,

as I think, approach it philosophically, but simply as a hatter. I have myself studied means to accentuate the

infamous headcovering to which France is now enslaved until I succeed in overthrowing it.

"Behold the enemy, messieurs," he continued. "How is it that the wittiest and most satirical people on earth

will consent to wear upon their heads a bit of stovepipe?as one of our great writers has called it. Here are

some of the infections I have been able to give to those atrocious lines," he added, pointing to a number of his

creations. "But, although I am able to conform them to the character of each wearerfor, as you see, there

are the hats of a doctor, a grocer, a dandy, an artist, a fat man, a thin man, and so forththe style itself

"This," he continued, "is the old hat of Claude Vignon, a great critic, in the days when he was a free man and

a freeliver. He has lately come round to the ministry; they've made him a professor, a librarian; he writes

now for the Debats only; they've appointed him Master of Petitions with a salary of sixteen thousand francs;

he earns four thousand more out of his paper, and he is decorated. Well, now see his new hat."

And Vital showed them a hat of a form and design which was truly expressive of the justemilieu.

"Would you kindly tell me why the shops of your trade in Paris remain open late at night,later than the

"In the first place, our shops are much finer when lighted up than they are in the daytime; next, where we sell

"Thanks to my efforts and my successes," said Vital, returning to the course of his selflaudation, "we are

"Cheapness, monsieur. In the first place, very handsome silk hats can be built for fifteen francs, which kills

our business; for in Paris no one ever has fifteen francs in his pocket to spend on a hat. If a beaver hat costs

thirty, it is still the same thing When I say beaver, I ought to state that there are not ten pounds of beaver

skins left in France. That article is worth three hundred and fifty francs a pound, and it takes an ounce for a

hat. Besides, a beaver hat isn't really worth anything; the skin takes a wretched dye; gets rusty in ten minutes

under the sun, and heat puts it out of shape as well. What we call 'beaver' in the trade is neither more nor less

than hare's skin. The best qualities are made from the back of the animal, the second from the sides, the

third from the belly. I confide to you these trade secrets because you are men of honor. But whether a man

has hare'sskin or silk on his head, fifteen or thirty francs in short, the problem is always insoluble. Hats must

be paid for in cash, and that is why the hat remains what it is. The honor of vestural France will be saved on

the day that gray hats with round crowns can be made to cost a hundred francs. We could then, like the

tailors, give credit. To reach that result men must resolve to wear buckles, gold lace, plumes, and the brims

lined with satin, as in the days of Louis XIII. and Louis XIV. Our business, which would then enter the

domain of fancy, would increase tenfold. The markets of the world should belong to France; Paris will

forever give the tone to women's fashions, and yet the hats which all Frenchmen wear today are made in

every country on earth! There are ten millions of foreign money to be gained annually for France in that

"Yes, monsieur. Ah! if a dozen or fifteen artists, capitalists, or dandies who set the tone would only have

courage for twentyfour hours France would gain a splendid commercial battle! To succeed in this reform I

would give my whole fortune! Yes, my sole ambition is to regenerate the hat and disappear."

"The man is colossal," said Gazonal, as they left the shop; "but I assure you that all your originals so far have

"Yes; you shall see the usuress of rats, marcheuses and great ladies, a woman who possesses more terrible

And he showed Gazonal one of those untidy shops which made an ugly stain in the midst of the dazzling

showwindows of modern retail commerce. This shop had a front painted in 1820, which some bankrupt had

doubtless left in a dilapidated condition. The color had disappeared beneath a double coating of dirt, the result

of usage, and a thick layer of dust; the windowpanes were filthy, the doorknob turned of itself, as

"What do you say of THAT? First cousin to Death, isn't she?" said Leon in Gazonal's ear, showing him, at the

"Madame, how much is this guipure?" asked the manufacturer, intending to compete in liveliness with the

"To you, monsieur, who come from the country, it will be only three hundred francs," she replied. Then,

remarking in his manner a sort of eagerness peculiar to Southerners, she added, in a grieved tone, "It formerly

"Madame, we have not come to make purchases," said Bixiou, with a show of frankness.

"We have several things to sell," said the illustrious caricaturist. "I live close by, rue de Richelieu, 112, sixth

floor. If you will come round there for a moment, you may perhaps make some good bargains."

Ten minutes later Madame Nourrisson did in fact present herself at Bixiou's lodgings, where by that time he

had taken Leon and Gazonal. Madame Nourrisson found them all three as serious as authors whose

"Madame," said the intrepid hoaxer, showing her a pair of women's slippers, "these belonged formerly to the

"Don't you perceive that the slippers are only by way of preface?" said Leon; "though, to be sure, they are

"My friend here," said Bixiou, motioning to Gazonal, "has an immense family interest in ascertaining

whether a young lady of a good and wealthy house, whom he wishes to marry, has ever gone wrong."

"How much will monsieur give for the information," she asked, looking at Gazonal, who was no longer

"Then say how much you want, my little Madame Nourrisson," cried Bixiou catching her round the waist.

"In the first place, my dear gentlemen, I have never, since I've been in the business, found man or woman to

haggle over happiness. Besides," she said, letting a cold smile flicker on her lips, and enforcing it by an icy

glance full of catlike distrust, "if it doesn't concern your happiness, it concerns your fortune; and at the height

where I find you lodging no man haggles over a 'dot' Come," she said, "out with it! What is it you want to

"About the Beunier family," replied Bixiou, very glad to find out something in this indirect manner about

"Because I hold all the mother's jewels and she's on tenterhooks every three months, I can tell you! It is hard

work for her to pay the interest on what I've lent her. Do you want to marry there, simpleton?" she added,

addressing Gazonal; "then pay me forty francs and I'll talk four hundred worth."

Gazonal produced a fortyfranc goldpiece, and Madame Nourrisson gave him startling details as to the

secret penury of certain socalled fashionable women. This dealer in castoff clothes, getting lively as she

talked, pictured herself unconsciously while telling of others. Without betraying a single name or any secret,

she made the three men shudder by proving to them how little socalled happiness existed in Paris that did

not rest on the vacillating foundation of borrowed money. She possessed, laid away in her drawers, the

secrets of departed grandmothers, living children, deceased husbands, dead granddaughters,memories set

in gold and diamonds. She learned appalling stories by making her clients talk of one another; tearing their

secrets from them in moments of passion, of quarrels, of anger, and during those cooler negotiations which

Such women almost invariably justify their trade by alleging noble motives. Madame Nourrisson posed as

having lost several opportunities for marriage, also three daughters who had gone to the bad, and all her

illusions. She showed the pawntickets of the MontdePiete to prove the risks her business ran; declared

that she did not know how to meet the "end of the month"; she was robbed, she said,ROBBED.

The two artists looked at each other on hearing that expression, which seemed exaggerated.

"Look here, my sons, I'll show you how we are DONE. It is not about myself, but about my opposite

neighbour, Madame Mahuchet, a ladies' shoemaker. I had loaned money to a countess, a woman who has too

many passions for her means,lives in a fine apartment filled with splendid furniture, and makes, as we say,

a devil of a show with her high and mighty airs. She owed three hundred francs to her shoemaker, and was

giving a dinner no later than yesterday. The shoemaker, who heard of the dinner from the cook, came to see

me; we got excited, and she wanted to make a row; but I said: 'My dear Madame Mahuchet, what good will

that do? you'll only get yourself hated. It is much better to obtain some security; and you save your bile.' She

wouldn't listen, but go she would, and asked me to support her; so I went. 'Madame is not at home.''Up to

that! we'll wait,' said Madame Mahuchet, 'if we have to stay all night,'and down we camped in the

antechamber. Presently the doors began to open and shut, and feet and voices came along. I felt badly. The

guests were arriving for dinner. You can see the appearance it had. The countess sent her maid to coax

Madame Mahuchet: 'Pay you tomorrow!' in short, all the snares! Nothing took. The countess, dressed to the

nines, went to the diningroom. Mahuchet heard her and opened the door. Gracious! when she saw that table

sparkling with silver, the covers to the dishes and the chandeliers all glittering like a jewelcase, didn't she go

off like sodawater and fire her shot: 'When people spend the money of others they should be sober and not

give dinnerparties. Think of your being a countess and owing three hundred francs to a poor shoemaker with

seven children!' You can guess how she railed, for the Mahuchet hasn't any education. When the countess

tried to make an excuse ('no money') Mahuchet screamed out: 'Look at all your fine silver, madame; pawn it

and pay me!''Take some yourself,' said the countess quickly, gathering up a quantity of forks and spoons

and putting them into her hands. Downstairs we rattled!heavens! like success itself. No, before we got to

the street Mahuchet began to cryshe's a kind woman! She turned back and restored the silver; for she now

"And she forked it over," said Leon, in whom the former Mistigris occasionally reappeared.

"Ah! my dear monsieur," said Madame Nourrisson, enlightened by the slang, "you are an artist, you write

plays, you live in the rue du Helder and are friends with Madame Anatolia; you have habits that I know all

about. Come, do you want some rarity in the grand style, Carabine or Mousqueton, Malaga or Jenny

"Malaga, Carabine! nonsense!" cried Leon de Lora. "It was we who invented them."

"I assure you, my good Madame Nourrisson," said Bixiou, "that we only wanted the pleasure of making your

acquaintance, and we should like very much to be informed as to how you ever came to slip into this

"I was confidential maid in the family of a marshal of France, Prince d'Ysembourg," she said, assuming the

airs of a Dorine. "One morning, one of the most beplumed countesses of the Imperial court came to the house

and wanted to speak to the marshal privately. I put myself in the way of hearing what she said. She burst into

tears and confided to that booby of a marshalyes, the Conde of the Republic is a booby! that her

husband, who served under him in Spain, had left her without means, and if she didn't get a thousand francs,

or two thousand, that day her children must go without food; she hadn't any for the morrow. The marshal,

who was always ready to give in those days, took two notes of a thousand francs each out of his desk, and

gave them to her. I saw that fine countess going down the staircase where she couldn't see me. She was

laughing with a satisfaction that certainly wasn't motherly, so I slipped after her to the peristyle where I heard

her say to the coachman, 'To Leroy's.' I ran round quickly to Leroy's, and there, sure enough, was the poor

mother. I got there in time to see her order and pay for a fifteenhundredfranc dress; you understand that in

those days people were made to pay when they bought. The next day but one she appeared at an ambassador's

ball, dressed to please all the world and some one in particular. That day I said to myself: 'I've got a career!

When I'm no longer young I'll lend money to great ladies on their finery; for passion never calculates, it pays

She departed after delivering this tirade, in which all the phases of her past life were outlined, leaving

Gazonal as much horrified by her revelations as by the five yellow teeth she showed when she tried to smile.

"Make notes," replied Bixiou, whistling for his porter; "for I want some money, and I'll show you the use of

porters. You think they only pull the gatecord; whereas they really pull poor devils like me and artists whom

they take under their protection out of difficulties. Mine will get the Montyon prize one of these days."

A man between two ages, partly a graybeard, partly an officeboy, but more oily within and without, hair

greasy, stomach puffy, skin dull and moist, like that of the prior of a convent, always wearing list shoes, a

"What is it, monsieur?" he said with an air which combined that of a protector and a subordinate.

"Ravenouillet His name is Ravenouillet," said Bixiou turning to Gazonal. "Have you our notebook of bills

Ravenouillet pulled out of his pocket the greasiest and stickiest book that Gazonal's eyes had ever beheld.

"Write down at three months' sight two notes of five hundred francs each, which you will proceed to sign."

And Bixiou handed over two notes already drawn to his order by Ravenouillet, which Ravenouillet

immediately signed and inscribed on the greasy book, in which his wife also kept account of the debts of the

"Thanks, Ravenouillet," said Bixiou. "And here's a box at the Vaudeville for you."

"There are seventyone tenants in this house," said Bixiou, "and the average of what they owe Ravenouillet

is six thousand francs a month, eighteen thousand quarterly for money advanced, postage, etc., not counting

the rents due. He is Providenceat thirty per cent, which we all pay him, though he never asks for anything."

"I'm going to take you now, cousin Gazonal," said Bixiou, after indorsing the notes, "to see another

"A usurer. As we go along I'll tell you the debut of friend Ravenouillet in Paris."

Passing in front of the porter's lodge, Gazonal saw Mademoiselle Lucienne Ravenouillet holding in her hand

a music score (she was a pupil of the Conservatoire), her father reading a newspaper, and Madame

"She's not a rat," explained Leon to his cousin; "she is the larva of the grasshopper."

"Here's the history of Ravenouillet," continued Bixiou, when the three friends reached the boulevard. "In

1831 Massol, the councillor of state who is dealing with your case, was a lawyerjournalist who at that time

never thought of being more than Keeper of the Seals, and deigned to have King LouisPhilippe on his

throne. Forgive his ambition, he's from Carcassonne. One morning there entered to him a young rustic of his

parts, who said: 'You know me very well, Mossoo Massol; I'm your neighbour the grocer's little boy; I've

come from down there, for they tell me a fellow is certain to get a place if he comes to Paris.' Hearing these

words, Massol shuddered, and said to himself that if he were weak enough to help this compatriot (to him

utterly unknown) he should have the whole department prone upon him, his bellrope would break, his valet

leave him, he should have difficulties with his landlord about the stairway, and the other lodgers would

assuredly complain of the smell of garlic pervading the house. Consequently, he looked at his visitor as a

butcher looks at a sheep whose throat he intends to cut. But whether the rustic comprehended the stab of that

glance or not, he went on to say (so Massol told me), 'I've as much ambition as other men. I will never go

back to my native place, if I ever do go back, unless I am a rich man. Paris is the antechamber of Paradise.

They tell me that you who write the newspapers can make, as they say, "fine weather and foul"; that is, you

have things all your own way, and it's enough to ask your help to get any place, no matter what, under

government. Now, though I have faculties, like others, I know myself: I have no education; I don't know how

to write, and that's a misfortune, for I have ideas. I am not seeking, therefore, to be your rival; I judge myself,

and I know I couldn't succeed there. But, as you are so powerful, and as we are almost brothers, having

played together in childhood, I count upon you to launch me in a career and to protect me Oh, you MUST;

I want a place, a place suitable to my capacity, to such as I am, a place were I can make my fortune.' Massol

was just about to put his compatriot neck and crop out of the door with some brutal speech, when the rustic

ended his appeal thus: 'I don't ask to enter the administration where people advance like tortoisesthere's

your cousin, who has stuck in one post for twenty years. No, I only want to make my debut.''On the stage?'

asked Massol only too happy at that conclusion.'No, though I have gesture enough, and figure, and

memory. But there's too much wear and tear; I prefer the career of PORTER.' Massol kept his countenance,

and replied: 'I think there's more wear and tear in that, but as your choice is made I'll see what I can do'; and

"I was the first master," said Leon, "to consider the race of porter. You'll find knaves of morality,

mountebanks of vanity, modern sycophants, septembriseurs, disguised in philanthropy, inventors of

palpitating questions, preaching the emancipation of the negroes, improvement of little thieves, benevolence

to liberated convicts, and who, nevertheless, leave their porters in a condition worse than that of the Irish, in

holes more dreadful than a mud cabin, and pay them less money to live on than the State pays to support a

convict. I have done but one good action in my life, and that was to build my porter a decent lodge."

"Yes," said Bixiou, "if a man, having built a great cage divided into thousands of compartments like the cells

of a beehive or the dens of a menagerie, constructed to receive human beings of all trades and all kinds, if that

animal, calling itself the proprietor, should go to a man of science and say: 'I want an individual of the

bimanous species, able to live in holes full of old boots, pestiferous with rags, and ten feet square; I want him

such that he can live there all his life, sleep there, eat there, be happy, get children as pretty as little cupids,

work, toil, cultivate flowers, sing there, stay there, and live in darkness but see and know everything,' most

assuredly the man of science could never have invented the porter to oblige the proprietor; Paris, and Paris

"Parisian creative powers have gone farther than that," said Gazonal; "look at the workmen! You don't know

all the products of industry, though you exhibit them. Our toilers fight against the toilers of the continent by

"Here we are, at my friend the usurer's," said Bixiou. "His name is Vauvinet. One of the greatest mistakes

made by writers who describe our manners and morals is to harp on old portraits. In these days all trades

change. The grocer becomes a peer of France, artists capitalize their money, vaudevillists have incomes. A

few rare beings may remain what they originally were, but professions in general have no longer either their

special costume or their formerly fixed habits and ways. In the past we had Gobseck, Gigounet,

Samonon,the last of the Romans; today we rejoice in Vauvinet, the goodfellow usurer, the dandy who

frequents the greenroom and the lorettes, and drives about in a little coupe with one horse. Take special note

of my man, friend Gazonal, and you'll see the comedy of money, the cold man who won't give a penny, the

All three went up to the second floor of a finelooking house on the boulevard des Italiens, where they found

themselves surrounded by the elegances then in fashion. A young man about twentyeight years of age

advanced to meet them with a smiling face, for he saw Leon de Lora first. Vauvinet held out his hand with

apparent friendliness to Bixiou, and bowed coldly to Gazonal as he motioned them to enter his office, where

bourgeois taste was visible beneath the artistic appearance of the furniture, and in spite of the statuettes and

the thousand other little trifles applied to our little apartments by modern art, which has made itself as small

Vauvinet was dressed, like other young men of our day who go into business, with extreme elegance, which

Vauvinet assumed a serious air, which made Gazonal smile, such difference was there between the smiling

visage that received them and the countenance of the moneylender recalled to business.

"My dear fellow," said Vauvinet, looking at Bixiou, "I should certainly oblige you with the greatest pleasure,

"No; I have given all I had toyou know who. That poor Lousteau went into partnership for the

management of a theatre with an old vaudevillist who has great influence with the ministry, Ridal; and they

came to me yesterday for thirty thousand francs. I'm cleaned out, and so completely that I was just in the act

of sending to Cerizet for a hundred louis, when I lost at lansquenet this morning, at Jenny Cadine's."

"You must indeed me hardup if you can't oblige this poor Bixiou," said Leon de Lora; "for he can be very

"Well," said Bixiou, "I could never say anything but good of Vauvinet; he's full of goods."

"My dear friend," said Vauvinet, "if I had the money, I couldn't possibly discount, even at fifty per cent, notes

which are drawn by your porter. Ravenouillet's paper isn't in demand. He's not a Rothschild. I warn you that

his notes are worn thin; you had better invent another firm. Find an uncle. As for a friend who'll sign notes

for us there's no such being to be found; the matteroffactness of the present age is making awful progress."

"I have a friend," said Bixiou, motioning to Leon's cousin. "Monsieur here; one of the most distinguished

manufacturers of cloth in the South, named Gazonal. His hair is not very well dressed," added Bixiou,

looking at the touzled and luxuriant crop on the provincial's head, "but I am going to take him to Marius, who

will make him look less like a poodledog, an appearance so injurious to his credit, and to ours."

"I don't believe in Southern securities, be it said without offence to monsieur," replied Vauvinet, with whom

Gazonal, that extremely penetrating intellect, thought that the painter and Bixiou intended, by way of

teaching him to know Paris, to make him pay the thousand francs for his breakfast at the Cafe de Paris, for

this son of the Pyrenees had never got out of that armor of distrust which incloses the provincial in Paris.

"How can you expect me to have outstanding business at seven hundred miles from Paris?" added Vauvinet.

"You are worth two hundred thousand francs," replied Vauvinet, "and sometimes you are worth your weight

"Very good," replied Bixiou; "then we won't say anything more about it. I had arranged for this evening, at

Vauvinet winked an eye at Bixiou; the wink that two jockeys give each other when they want to say: "Don't

"Don't you remember catching me round the waist as if I were a pretty woman," said Bixiou, "and coaxing

me with look and speech, and saying, 'I'll do anything for you if you'll only get me shares at par in that

railroad du Tillet and Nucingen have made an offer for?' Well, old fellow, du Tillet and Nucingen are coming

to Carabine's tonight, where they will meet a number of political characters. You've lost a fine opportunity.

Bixiou rose, leaving Vauvinet apparently indifferent, but inwardly annoyed by the sense that he had

"One moment, my dear fellow," said the moneylender. "Though I haven't the money, I have credit. If your

notes are worth nothing, I can keep them and give you notes in exchange. If we can come to an agreement

about that railway stock we could share the profits, of course in due proportion and I'll allow you that on"

"No, no," said Bixiou, "I want money in hand, and I must get those notes of Ravenouillet's cashed."

"Ravenouillet is sound," said Vauvinet. "He puts money into the savingsbank; he is good security."

"Better than you," interposed Leon, "for HE doesn't stipend lorettes; he hasn't any rent to pay; and he never

"You think you can laugh at me, great man," returned Vauvinet, once more jovial and caressing; "you've

turned La Fontaine's fable of 'Le Chene et le Roseau' into an elixir Come, Gubetta, my old accomplice," he

continued, seizing Bixiou round the waist, "you want money; well, I can borrow three thousand francs from

my friend Cerizet instead of two; 'Let us be friends, Cinna!' hand over your colossal cabbages,made to

trick the public like a gardener's catalogue. If I refused you it was because it is pretty hard on a man who can

only do his poor little business by turning over his money, to have to keep your Ravenouillet notes in the

"Next to nothing," returned Vauvinet. "It will cost you a miserable fifty francs at the end of the quarter."

"Twenty per cent!" whispered Gazonal to Bixiou, who replied by a punch of his elbow in the provincial's

"Bless me!" said Vauvinet opening a drawer in his desk as if to put away the Ravenouillet notes, "here's an

old bill of five hundred francs stuck in the drawer! I didn't know I was so rich. And here's a note payable at

the end of the month for four hundred and fifty; Cerizet will take it without much diminution, and there's your

sum in hand. But no nonsense, Bixiou! Hein? tonight, at Carabine's, will you swear to me"

"Haven't we REfriended?" said Bixiou, pocketing the fivehundred franc bill and the note for four hundred

and fifty. "I give you my word of honor that you shall see du Tillet, and many other men who want to make

Vauvinet conducted the three friends to the landing of the staircase, cajoling Bixiou on the way. Bixiou kept a

grave face till he reached the outer door, listening to Gazonal, who tried to enlighten him on his late

operation, and to prove to him that if Vauvinet's follower, Cerizet, took another twenty francs out of his four

When they reached the asphalt Bixiou frightened Gazonal by the laugh of a Parisian hoaxer,that cold, mute

"The assignment of the contract for that railway is adjourned, positively, by the Chamber; I heard this

yesterday from that marcheuse whom we smiled at just now. If I win five or six thousand francs at lansquenet

"Lansquenet is another of the thousand facets of Paris as it is," said Leon. "And therefore, cousin, I intend to

present you tonight in the salon of a duchess,a duchess of the rue SaintGeorges, where you will see the

aristocracy of the lorettes, and probably be able to win your lawsuit. But it is quite impossible to present you

anywhere with that mop of Pyrenean hair; you look like a porcupine; and therefore we'll take you close by,

"I'll tell you his tale," said Bixiou. "In the year 1800 a Toulousian named Cabot, a young wigmaker

devoured by ambition, came to Paris, and set up a shop (I use your slang). This man of genius,he now has

an income of twentyfour thousand francs a year, and lives, retired from business, at Libourne,well, he

saw that so vulgar and ignoble a name as Cabot could never attain celebrity. Monsieur de Parny, whose hair

he cut, gave him the name of Marius, infinitely superior, you perceive, to the Christian names of Armand and

Hippolyte, behind which patronymics attacked by the Cabot evil are wont to hide. All the successors of Cabot

have called themselves Marius. The present Marius is Marius V.; his real name is Mongin. This occurs in

various other trades; for 'Botot water,' and for 'LittleVirtue' ink. Names become commercial property in

Paris, and have ended by constituting a sort of ensign of nobility. The present Marius, who takes pupils, has

"I've seen, in coming through France," said Gazonal, "a great many signs bearing the words: 'Such a one,

"His pupils have to wash their hands after every head," said Bixiou; "but Marius does not take them

indifferently; they must have nice hands, and not be illlooking. The most remarkable for manners,

appearance, and elocution are sent out to dress heads; and they come back tired to death. Marius himself

never turns out except for titled women; he drives his cabriolet and has a groom."

"Barber!" exclaimed Bixiou; "please remember that he is captain in the National Guard, and is decorated for

"And take care what you say to him: he is neither barber, hair dresser, nor wigmaker; he is a director of

salons for hairdressing," said Leon, as they went up a staircase with crystal balusters and mahogany rail, the

"Ah ca! mind you don't compromise us," said Bixiou. "In the antechamber you'll see lacqueys who will take

off your coat, and seize your hat, to brush them; and they'll accompany you to the door of the salons to open

and shut it. I mention this, friend Gazonal," added Bixiou, slyly, "lest you might think they were after your

"These salons," said Leon, "are three boudoirs where the director has collected all the inventions of modern

luxury: lambrequins to the windows, jardinieres everywhere, downy divans where each customer can wait his

turn and read the newspapers. You might suppose, when you first go in, that five francs would be the least

they'd get out of your waistcoat pocket; but nothing is ever extracted beyond ten sous for combing and

frizzing your hair, or twenty sous for cutting and frizzing. Elegant dressingtables stand about among the

jardinieres; water is laid on to the washstands; enormous mirrors reproduce the whole figure. Therefore don't

look astonished. When the client (that's the elegant word substituted by Marius for the ignoble word

customer), when the client appears at the door, Marius gives him a glance which appraises him: to Marius

you are a HEAD, more or less susceptible of occupying his mind. To him there's no mankind; there are only

"We let you hear Marius on all the notes of his scale," said Bixiou, "and you know how to follow our lead."

As soon as Gazonal showed himself, the glance was given, and was evidently favourable, for Marius

exclaimed: "Regulus! yours this head! Prepare it first with the little scissors."

"Excuse me," said Gazonal to the pupil, at a sign from Bixiou. "I prefer to have my head dressed by Monsieur

Marius, much flattered by this demand, advanced, leaving the head on which he was engaged.

"I am with you in a moment; I am just finishing. Pray have no uneasiness, my pupil will prepare you; I alone

Marius, a slim little man, his hair frizzed like that of Rubini, and jet black, dressed also in black, with long

white cuffs, and the frill of his shirt adorned with a diamond, now saw Bixiou, to whom he bowed as to a

"That is only an ordinary head," he said to Leon, pointing to the person on whom he was operating,"a

grocer, or something of that kind. But if we devoted ourselves to art only, we should lie in Bicetre, mad!" and

he turned back with an inimitable gesture to his client, after saying to Regulus, "Prepare monsieur, he is

Hearing that word, Marius gave two or three strokes of the comb to the ordinary head and flung himself upon

Gazonal, taking Regulus by the arm at the instant that the pupil was about to begin the operation of the little

"I will take charge of monsieur. Look, monsieur," he said to the grocer, "reflect yourself in the great

"You pay at the desk, monsieur," said Marius to the stupefied grocer, who was pulling out his purse.

"Is there any use, my dear fellow," said Bixiou, "in going through this operation of the little scissors?"

"No head ever comes to me uncleansed," replied the illustrious hair dresser; "but for your sake, I will do that

of monsieur myself, wholly. My pupils sketch out the scheme, or my strength would not hold out. Every one

says as you do: 'Dressed by Marius!' Therefore, I can give only the finishing strokes. What journal is

"Ah! monsieur, I see, is a feuilletonist," said Marius. "Alas! in dressing heads which expose us to notice it is

He left Gazonal to overlook Regulus, who was "preparing" a newly arrived head. Tapping his tongue against

his palate, he made a disapproving noise, which may perhaps be written down as "titt, titt, titt."

"There, there! good heavens! that cut is not square; your scissors are hacking it. Here! see there! Regulus, you

are not clipping poodles; these are menwho have a character; if you continue to look at the ceiling instead

Marius, affronted, looked at Gazonal in the glass, and stopped short, the scissors in one hand, the comb in the

"Monsieur, you speak like achild! and yet, from your accent, I judge you are from the South, the birthplace

"Hush, monsieur, hush! I expected better things of YOU. Let me tell you that a hairdresser,I don't say a

good hairdresser, for a man is, or he is not, a hairdresser,a hairdresser, I repeat, is more difficult to find

thanwhat shall I say? thanI don't know whata minister?(Sit still!) No, for you can't judge by

ministers, the streets are full of them. A Paganini? No, he's not great enough. A hairdresser, monsieur, a

man who divines your soul and your habits, in order to dress your hair conformably with your being, that

man has all that constitutes a philosopherand such he is. See the women! Women appreciate us; they know

our value; our value to them is the conquest they make when they have placed their heads in our hands to

attain a triumph. I say to you that a hairdresserthe world does not know what he is. I who speak to you, I

am very nearly all that there is ofwithout boasting I may say I am knownStill, I think more might be

doneThe execution, that is everything! Ah! if women would only give me carte blanche!if I might only

execute the ideas that come to me! I have, you see, a hell of imagination!but the women don't fall in with

it; they have their own plans; they'll stick their fingers or combs, as soon as my back is turned, through the

most delicious edificeswhich ought to be engraved and perpetuated; for our works, monsieur, last

unfortunately but a few hours. A great hairdresser, hey! he's like Careme and Vestris in their careers. (Head

a little this way, if you please, SO; I attend particularly to front faces!) Our profession is ruined by bunglers

who understand neither the epoch nor their art. There are dealers in wigs and essences who are enough to

make one's hair stand on end; they care only to sell you bottles. It is pitiable! But that's business. Such poor

wretches cut hair and dress it as they can. I, when I arrived in Paris from Toulouse, my ambition was to

succeed the great Marius, to be a true Marius, to make that name illustrious. I alone, more than all the four

others, I said to myself, 'I will conquer, or die.' (There! now sit straight, I am going to finish you.) I was the

first to introduce ELEGANCE; I made my salons the object of curiosity. I disdain advertisements; what

advertisements would have cost, monsieur, I put into elegance, charm, comfort. Next year I shall have a

quartette in one of the salons to discourse music, and of the best. Yes, we ought to charm away the ennui of

those whose heads we dress. I do not conceal from myself the annoyances to a client. (Look at yourself!) To

have one's hair dressed is fatiguing, perhaps as much so as posing for one's portrait. Monsieur knows perhaps

that the famous Monsieur Humbolt (I did the best I could with the few hairs America left himscience has

this in common with savages, that she scalps her men clean), that illustrious savant, said that next to the

suffering of going to be hanged was that of going to be painted; but I place the trial of having your head

dressed before that of being painted, and so do certain women. Well, monsieur, my object is to make those

who come here to have their hair cut or frizzed enjoy themselves. (Hold still, you have a tuft which MUST be

conquered.) A Jew proposed to supply me with Italian cantatrices who, during the interludes, were to depilate

the young men of forty; but they proved to be girls from the Conservatoire, and musicteachers from the Rue

Montmartre. There you are, monsieur; your head is dressed as that of a man of talent ought to be. Ossian," he

said to the lacquey in livery, "dress monsieur and show him out. Whose turn next?" he added proudly, gazing

"Don't laugh, Gazonal," said Leon as they reached the foot of the staircase, whence his eye could take in the

whole of the Place de la Bourse. "I see over there one of our great men, and you shall compare his language

with that of the barber, and tell me which of the two you think the most original."

"Don't laugh, Gazonal," said Bixiou, mimicking Leon's intonation. "What do you suppose is Marius's

"He has obtained a monopoly of the sale of hair in bulk, as a certain dealer in comestibles who is going to sell

us a pate for three francs has acquired a monopoly of the sale of truffles; he discounts the paper of that

business; he loans money on pawn to clients when embarrassed; he gives annuities on lives; he gambles at the

Bourse; he is a stockholder in all the fashion papers; and he sells, under the name of a certain chemist, an

infamous drug which, for his share alone, gives him an income of thirty thousand francs, and costs in

"Remember this," said Bixiou, gravely. "In Paris there is no such thing as a small business; all things swell to

large proportions, down to the sale of rags and matches. The lemonadeseller who, with his napkin under his

arm, meets you as you enter his shop, may be worth his fifty thousand francs a year; the waiter in a restaurant

is eligible for the Chamber; the man you take for a beggar in the street carries a hundred thousand francs

The three inseparables (for one day at any rate) now crossed the Place de la Bourse in a way to intercept a

man about forty years of age, wearing the Legion of honor, who was coming from the boulevard by way of

"Hey!" said Leon, "what are you pondering over, my dear Dubourdieu? Some fine symbolic composition?

My dear cousin, I have the pleasure to present to you our illustrious painter Dubourdieu, not less celebrated

for his humanitarian convictions than for his talents in art. Dubourdieu, my cousin Palafox."

Dubourdieu, a small, pale man with melancholy blue eyes, bowed slightly to Gazonal, who bent low as

"You bring the Academy into disrepute," continued the painter. "To choose such a man as that! I don't wish

to say ill of him, but he works at a trade. Where are you dragging the first of arts,the art those works are

the most lasting; bringing nations to light of which the world has long lost even the memory; an art which

crowns and consecrates great men? Yes, sculpture is priesthood; it preserves the ideas of an epoch, and you

give its chair to a maker of toys and mantelpieces, an ornamentationist, a seller of bricabrac! Ah! as

Chamfort said, one has to swallow a viper every morning to endure the life of Paris. Well, at any rate, Art

"And besides, my dear fellow, you have a consolation which few artists possess; the future is yours," said

Bixiou. "When the world is converted to our doctrine, you will be at the head of your art; for you are putting

into it ideas which people will understandWHEN they are generalized! In fifty years from now you'll be to

all the world what you are to a few of us at this moment,a great man. The only question is how to get along

"I have just finished," resumed the great artist, his face expanding like that of a man whose hobby is stroked,

"an allegorical figure of Harmony; and if you will come and see it, you will understand why it should have

taken me two years to paint it. Everything is in it! At the first glance one divines the destiny of the globe. A

queen holds a shepherd's crook in her hand,symbolical of the advancement of the races useful to mankind;

she wears on her head the cap of Liberty; her breasts are sixfold, as the Egyptians carved themfor the

Egyptians foresaw Fourier; her feet are resting on two clasped hands which embrace a globe,symbol of the

brotherhood of all human races; she tramples cannon under foot to signify the abolition of war; and I have

tried to make her face express the serenity of triumphant agriculture. I have also placed beside her an

enormous curled cabbage, which, according to our master, is an image of Harmony. Ah! it is not the least

among Fourier's titles to veneration that he has restored the gift of thought to plants; he has bound all creation

in one by the signification of things to one another, and by their special language. A hundred years hence this

"And how will that, monsieur, come to pass?" said Gazonal, stupefied at hearing a man outside of a lunatic

"Through the extending of production. If men will apply The System, it will not be impossible to act upon the

"Would our eyes be magnified too?" said Gazonal, looking at his two friends significantly.

"Man will return to what he was before he became degenerate; our six feet men will then be dwarfs."

"Entirely finished," replied Dubourdieu. "I have tried to see Hiclar, and get him to compose a symphony for

it; I wish that while viewing my picture the public should hear music a la Beethoven to develop its ideas and

bring them within range of the intellect by two arts. Ah! if the government would only lend me one of the

"I'll mention it, if you want me to do so; you should never neglect an opportunity to strike minds."

"His skill is masterly," said Leon, "and he knows his art, but Fourierism has killed him. You have just seen,

cousin, one of the effects of ambition upon artists. Too often, in Paris, from a desire to reach more rapidly

than by natural ways the celebrity which to them is fortune, artists borrow the wings of circumstance, they

think they make themselves of more importance as men of a specialty, the supporters of some 'system'; and

they fancy they can transform a clique into the public. One is a republican, another SaintSimonian; this one

aristocrat, that one Catholic, others justemilieu, middle ages, or German, as they choose for their purpose.

Now, though opinions do not give talent, they always spoil what talent there is; and the poor fellow whom

you have just seen is a proof thereof. An artist's opinion ought to be: Faith in his art, in his work; and his only

"Perfectly sincere," replied Bixiou; "as sincere as the king of barbers just now."

"And he is not the first man driven man by Fourier's ideas," said Bixiou. "You don't know anything about

Paris. Ask it for a hundred thousand francs to realize an idea that will be useful to humanity, the

steamengine for instance,and you'll die, like Salomon de Caux, at Bicetre; but if the money is wanted for

some paradoxical absurdity, Parisians will annihilate themselves and their fortune for it. It is the same with

systems as it is with material things. Utterly impracticable newspapers have consumed millions within the

last fifteen years. What makes your lawsuit so hard to win, is that you have right on your side, and on that of

"Do you think that a man of intellect having once understood the nature of Paris could live elsewhere?" said

"Suppose we take Gazonal to old Mere Fontaine?" said Bixiou, making a sign to the driver of a citadine to

draw up; "it will be a step from the real to the fantastic. Driver, Vieille rue du Temple."

"The proof of what Bixiou told you," replied Leon; "we shall show you a woman who makes twenty

"A fortuneteller," said Bixiou, interpreting the look of the Southerner as a question. "Madame Fontaine is

thought, by those who seek to pry into the future, to be wiser in her wisdom than Mademoiselle Lenormand."

"She was the victim of her own idea, as long as lotteries existed," said Bixiou; "for in Paris there are no great

gains without corresponding outlays. The strongest heads are liable to crack there, as if to give vent to their

steam. Those who make much money have vices or fancies,no doubt to establish an equilibrium."

When they reached the Vieille rue du Temple the three friends entered one of the oldest houses in that street

and passed up a shaking staircase, the steps of which, caked with mud, led them in semi darkness, and

through a stench peculiar to houses on an alley, to the third story, where they beheld a door which painting

alone could render; literature would have to spend too many nights in suitably describing it.

An old woman, in keeping with that door, and who might have been that door in human guise, ushered the

three friends into a room which served as an antechamber, where, in spite of the warm atmosphere which

fills the streets of Paris, they felt the icy chill of crypts about them. A damp air came from an inner courtyard

which resembled a huge airshaft; the light that entered was gray, and the sill of the window was filled with

pots of sickly plants. In this room, which had a coating of some greasy, fuliginous substance, the furniture,

the chairs, the table, were all most abject. The floor tiles oozed like a watercooler. In short, every accessory

was in keeping with the fearful old woman of the hooked nose, ghastly face, and decent rags who directed the

"consulters" to sit down, informing them that only one at a time could be admitted to Madame.

Gazonal, who played the intrepid, entered bravely, and found himself in presence of one of those women

forgotten by Death, who no doubt forgets them intentionally in order to leave some samples of Itself among

the living. He saw before him a withered face in which shone fixed gray eyes of wearying immobility; a

flattened nose, smeared with snuff; knucklebones well set up by muscles that, under pretence of being

hands, played nonchalantly with a pack of cards, like some machine the movement of which is about to run

down. The body, a species of broomhandle decently covered with clothes, enjoyed the advantages of death

and did not stir. Above the forehead rose a coif of black velvet. Madame Fontaine, for it was really a woman,

had a black hen on her right hand and a huge toad, named Astaroth, on her left. Gazonal did not at first

The toad, of surprising dimensions, was less alarming in himself than through the effect of two topaz eyes,

large as a tensous piece, which cast forth vivid gleams. It was impossible to endure that look. The toad is a

creature as yet unexplained. Perhaps the whole animal creation, including man, is comprised in it; for, as

Lassailly said, the toad exists indefinitely; and, as we know, it is of all created animals the one whose

The black hen had a cage about two feet distant from the table, covered with a green cloth, to which she came

When the woman, the least real of the creatures in this Hoffmanesque den, said to Gazonal: "Cut!" the worthy

provincial shuddered involuntarily. That which renders these beings so formidable is the importance of what

The den of the sibyl was much darker than the antechamber; the color of the walls could scarcely be

distinguished. The ceiling, blackened by smoke, far from reflecting the little light that came from a window

obstructed by pale and sickly vegetations, absorbed the greater part of it; but the table where the sorceress sat

received what there was of this halflight fully. The table, the chair of the woman, and that on which Gazonal

was seated, formed the entire furniture of the little room, which was divided at one end by a sort of loft where

Madame Fontaine probably slept. Gazonal heard through a halfopened door the bubbling murmur of a

souppot. That kitchen sound, accompanied by a composite odor in which the effluvia of a sink

predominated, mingled incongruous ideas of the necessities of actual life with those of supernatural power.

Gazonal observed one stair of pine wood, the lowest no doubt of the staircase which led to the loft. He took in

these minor details at a glance, with a sense of nausea. It was all quite otherwise alarming than the romantic

tales and scenes of German drama lead one to expect; here was suffocating actuality. The air diffused a sort

of dizzy heaviness, the dim light rasped the nerves. When the Southerner, impelled by a species of

selfassertion, gazed firmly at the toad, he felt a sort of emetic heat at the pit of his stomach, and was

conscious of a terror like that a criminal might feel in presence of a gendarme. He endeavoured to brace

himself by looking at Madame Fontaine; but there he encountered two almost white eyes, the motionless and

icy pupils of which were absolutely intolerable to him. The silence became terrifying.

"Which do you wish, monsieur, the fivefranc fortune, the tenfranc fortune, or the grand game?"

"The fivefranc fortune is dear enough," replied the Southerner, making powerful efforts not to yield to the

At the moment when Gazonal was thus endeavouring to collect himself, a voicean infernal voicemade

The hen seemed to understand her mistress, for, after coming within a foot of the cards, she turned and

"What flower to you like best?" asked the old woman, in a voice hoarsened by the phlegm which seemed to

"Man derives his form from his anterior states," she said sententiously. "Hence his instincts; and his instincts

rule his destiny. What food do you like best to eat,fish, game, cereals, butcher's meat, sweet things,

Madame Fontaine looked attentively at the lines of the hand that was shown to her. It was all done seriously,

with no pretence of sorcery; on the contrary, with the simplicity a notary might have shown when asking the

intentions of a client about a deed. Presently she shuffled the cards, and asked Gazonal to cut them, and then

to make three packs of them himself. After which she took the packs, spread them out before her, and

examined them as a gambler examines the thirtysix numbers at roulette before he risks his stake. Gazonal's

bones were freezing; he seemed not to know where he was; but his amazement grew greater and greater when

this hideous old woman in a green bonnet, stout and squat, whose false front was frizzed into points of

interrogation, proceeded, in a thick voice, to relate to him all the particular circumstances, even the most

secret, of his past life: she told him his tastes, his habits, his character; the thoughts of his childhood;

everything that had influenced his life; a marriage broken off, why, with whom, the exact description of the

Gazonal at first thought it was a hoax prepared by his companions; but the absolute impossibility of such a

conspiracy appeared to him almost as soon as the idea itself, and he sat speechless before that truly infernal

power, the incarnation of which borrowed from humanity a form which the imagination of painters and poets

has throughout all ages regarded as the most awful of created things,namely, a toothless, hideous,

wheezing hag, with cold lips, flattened nose, and whitish eyes. The pupils of those eyes had brightened,

Gazonal asked, interrupting the old creature, of what use the toad and the hen were to her.

"They predict the future. The consulter himself throws grain upon the cards; Bilouche comes and pecks it.

Astaroth crawls over the cards to get the food the client holds for him, and those two wonderful intelligences

are never mistaken. Will you see them at work?you will then know your future. The cost is a hundred

Gazonal, horrified by the gaze of Astaroth, rushed into the antechamber, after bowing to the terrible old

woman. He was moist from head to foot, as if under the incubation of some evil spirit.

"Let us get away!" he said to the two artists. "Did you ever consult that sorceress?"

"I never do anything important without getting Astaroth's opinion," said Leon, "and I am always the better for

"I'm expecting the virtuous fortune which Bilouche has promised me," said Bixiou.

"I've a fever," cried Gazonal. "If I believed what you say I should have to believe in sorcery, in some

"It may be only natural," said Bixiou. "Onethird of all the lorettes, onefourth of all the statesmen, and

onehalf of all artists consult Madame Fontaine; and I know a minister to whom she is an Egeria."

"No; I had enough of her about my past. But," added Gazonal, struck by a sudden thought, "if she can, by the

help of those dreadful collaborators, predict the future, how came she to lose in the lottery?"

"Ah! you put your finger on one of the greatest mysteries of occult science," replied Leon. "The moment that

the species of inward mirror on which the past or the future is reflected to their minds become clouded by the

breath of a personal feeling, by an idea foreign to the purpose of the power they are exerting, sorcerers and

sorceresses can see nothing; just as an artist who blurs art with political combinations and systems loses his

genius. Not long ago, a man endowed with the gift of divining by cards, a rival to Madame Fontaine, became

addicted to vicious practices, and being unable to tell his own fate from the cards, was arrested, tried, and

condemned at the court of assizes. Madame Fontaine, who predicts the future eight times out of ten, was

"It is the same thing in magnetism," remarked Bixiou. "A man can't magnetize himself."

"Heavens! now we come to magnetism!" cried Gazonal. "Ah ca! do you know everything?"

"Friend Gazonal," replied Bixiou, gravely, "to be able to laugh at everything one must know everything. As

for me, I've been in Paris since my childhood; I've lived, by means of my pencil, on its follies and absurdities,

at the rate of five caricatures a month. Consequently, I often laugh at ideas in which I have faith."

"Come, let us get to something else," said Leon. "We'll go to the Chamber and settle the cousin's affair."

"This," said Bixiou, imitating Odry in "Les Funambules," "is high comedy, for we will make the first orator

we meet pose for us, and you shall see that in those halls of legislation, as elsewhere, the Parisian language

As they got into their citadine, Leon saw in a rapidly driven cabriolet a man to whom he made a sign that he

"There's Publicola Masson," said Leon to Bixiou. "I'm going to ask for a sitting this evening at five o'clock,

after the Chamber. The cousin shall then see the most curious of all the originals."

"An artistpedicure," replied Bixiou, "author of a 'Treatise on Corporistics,' who cuts your corns by

subscription, and who, if the Republications triumph for six months, will assuredly become immortal."

"But, my good Gazonal, it is only millionaires who have time to go afoot in Paris."

"To make you see its immensity,moral, political, and literary,we are now proceeding like the Roman

cicerone, who shows you in Saint Peter's the thumb of the statue you took to be lifesize, and the thumb

proves to be a foot long. You haven't yet measured so much as a great toe of Paris."

"And remark, cousin Gazonal, that we take things as they come; we haven't selected."

"This evening you shall sup as they feasted at Belshazzar's; and there you shall see our Paris, our own

particular Paris, playing lansquenet, and risking a hundred thousand francs at a throw without winking."

A quarter of an hour later the citadine stopped at the foot of the steps going up to the Chamber of Deputies, at

"I thought the Chamber unapproachable?" said the provincial, surprised to find himself in the great lobby.

"That depends," replied Bixiou; "materially speaking, it costs thirty sous for a citadine to approach it;

politically, you have to spend rather more. The swallows thought, so a poet says, that the Arc de Triomphe

was erected for them; we artists think that this public building was built for us,to compensate for the

stupidities of the TheatreFrancais and make us laugh; but the comedians on this stage are much more

"So this is the Chamber!" cried Gazonal, as he paced the great hall in which there were then about a dozen

persons, and looked around him with an air which Bixiou noted down in his memory and reproduced in one

Leon went to speak to one of the ushers who go and come continually between this hall and the hall of

sessions, with which it communicates by a passage in which are stationed the stenographers of the

"As for the minister," replied the usher to Leon as Gazonal approached them, "he is there, but I don't know if

As the usher opened one side of the double door through which none but deputies, ministers, or messengers

from the king are allowed to pass, Gazonal saw a man come out who seemed still young, although he was

really fortyeight years old, and to whom the usher evidently indicated Leon de Lora.

"Ha! you here!" he exclaimed, shaking hands with both Bixiou and Lora. "Scamps! what are you doing in the

"Parbleu! we've come to learn how to blague," said Bixiou. "We might get rusty if we didn't."

"Let us go into the garden," said the young man, not observing that Gazonal belonged to the party.

Seeing that this newcomer was welldressed, in black, the provincial did not know in which political

category to place him; but he followed the others into the garden contiguous to the hall which follows the line

of the quai Napoleon. Once in the garden the cidevant young man gave way to a peal of laughter which he

"My dear friend, to prove the sincerity of the constitutional government we are forced to tell the most

frightful lies with incredible selfpossession. But as for me, I'm freakish; some days I can lie like a

prospectus; other days I can't be serious. This is one of my hilarious days. Now, at this moment, the prime

minister, being summoned by the Opposition to make known a certain diplomatic secret, is going through his

paces in the tribune. Being an honest man who never lies on his own account, he whispered to me as he

mounted the breach: 'Heaven knows what I shall say to them.' A mad desire to laugh overcame me, and as

one mustn't laugh on the ministerial bench I rushed out, for my youth does come back to me most

"At last," cried Gazonal, "I've found an honest man in Paris! You must be a very superior man," he added,

"My cousin," said Leon, hastily. "I'll answer for his silence and his honor as for my own. It is on his account

we have come here now; he has a case before the administration which depends on your ministry. His prefect

evidently wants to ruin him, and we have come to see you in order to prevent the Council of State from

"Say just a word to them," urged Leon; "tell them to come tonight to Carabine's, where du Tillet gives a fete

"Ah ca! but isn't your cousin from the Pyrenees?" asked the young man, now become serious.

"And you did not vote for us in the last elections?" said the statesman, looking hard at Gazonal.

"No; but what you have just said in my hearing has bribed me; on the word of a commandant of the National

"Very good; will you guarantee your cousin?" asked the young man, turning to Leon.

"Well, I'll see about it," said the young man, leaving his friends and rushing precipitately back to the

"The Comte de Rastignac; the minister of the department in which your affair is brought up."

"He is an old friend of ours. He now has three hundred thousand francs a year; he's a peer of France; the king

has made him a count; he married Nucingen's daughter; and he is one of the two or three statesmen produced

by the revolution of July. But his fame and his power bore him sometimes, and he comes down to laugh with

"Ah ca! cousin; why didn't you tell us you belonged to the Opposition?" asked Leon, seizing Gazonal by the

arm. "How stupid of you! One deputy more or less to Right or Left and your bed is made."

"Let 'em go," said Bixiou, with a facetious look; "they have Providence on their side, and Providence will

bring them back without you and in spite of themselves. A manufacturer ought to be a fatalist."

"Come along, friend Gazonal, the promised actors are mustering on the stage," said Bixiou.

And all three advanced to the abovenamed personages, who seemed to be sauntering along with nothing to

"Have they turned you out, or why are you idling about in this way?" said Bixiou to Giraud.

"No, while they are voting by secret ballot we have come out for a little air," replied Giraud.

Though Canalis had already been a minister, he was at this moment tending toward the Right.

"Ah! but you had a fine triumph just now," said Maxime to Canalis; "it was you who forced the minister into

"A worthy victory," said the honest Giraud. "In his place what would you have done?"

"It isn't called lying," said Maxime de Trailles; "it is called protecting the crown."

"Yes and no," replied the councillor of state. "A fine bass voice, and sonorous, but more of an artist in words

than an orator. In short, he's a fine instrument but he isn't music, consequently he has not, and he never will

have, the ear of the Chamber; in no case will he ever be master of the situation."

Canalis and Maxime were returning toward the little group as Giraud, deputy of the Left Centre, pronounced

this verdict. Maxime took Giraud by the arm and led him off, probably to make the same confidence he had

"What an honest, upright fellow that is," said Leon to Canalis, nodding towards Giraud.

"Yes and no," replied Canalis; "he is wordy; he's longwinded, a plodder in argument, and a good logician;

but he doesn't understand the higher logic, that of events and circumstances; consequently he has never had,

At the moment when Canalis uttered this judgment on Giraud, the latter was returning with Maxime to the

group; and forgetting the presence of a stranger whose discretion was not known to them like that of Leon

"Well," he said, "I consent to what Monsieur de Trailles proposes. I'll put the question to you in the Chamber,

"Then we shall have the house with us, for a man of your weight and your eloquence is certain to have the ear

of the Chamber," said Canalis. "I'll reply to you; but I shall do it sharply, to crush you."

"You could bring about a change of the cabinet, for on such ground you can do what you like with the

"Maxime has trapped them both," said Leon to his cousin; "that fellow is like a fish in water among the

"An exscoundrel who is now in a fair way to become an ambassador," replied Bixiou.

"Giraud!" said Leon to the councillor of state, "don't leave the Chamber without asking Rastignac what he

promised to tell you about a suit you are to render a decision on two days hence. It concerns my cousin here;

"Cousin, look at those two men," said Leon, pointing out to him a former minister and the leader of the Left

Centre. "Those are two men who really have 'the ear of the Chamber,' and who are called in jest ministers of

the department of the Opposition. They have the ear of the Chamber so completely that they are always

"Yes; you've now seen the heart of the government, cousin, and you must next be shown the ascarides, the

taenia, the intestinal worm, the republican, since I must needs name him," said Leon.

When the three friends were once more packed into their hackneycoach, Gazonal looked at his cousin and

Bixiou like a man who had a mind to launch a flood of oratorical and Southern bile upon the elements.

"I distrusted with all my might this great hussy of a town," he rolled out in Southern accents; "but since this

morning I despise her! The poor little province you think so petty is an honest girl; but Paris is a prostitute, a

greedy, lying comedian; and I am very thankful not to be robbed of my skin in it."

"And why do you complain in that stupid way," said Leon, "of a prostitution to which you will owe the

winning of your lawsuit? Do you think you are more virtuous than we, less of a comedian, less greedy, less

liable to fall under some temptation, less conceited than those we have been making dance for you like

"Poor lad!" said Leon, shrugging his shoulders, "haven't you already promised Rastignac your electoral

"Poor lad!" repeated Bixiou, "why slight me, who am always ridiculing myself? You are like a pugdog

barking at a tiger. Ha! if you saw us really ridiculing a man, you'd see that we can drive a sane man mad."

This conversation brought Gazonal back to his cousin's house, where the sight of luxury silenced him, and

put an end to the discussion. Too late he perceived that Bixiou had been making him pose.

At halfpast five o'clock, the moment when Leon de Lora was making his evening toilet to the great

wonderment of Gazonal, who counted the thousand and one superfluities of his cousin, and admired the

solemnity of the valet as he performed his functions, the "pedicure of monsieur" was announced, and

Publicola Masson, a little man fifty years of age, made his appearance, laid a small box of instruments on the

floor, and sat down on a small chair opposite to Leon, after bowing to Gazonal and Bixiou.

"How are matters going with you?" asked Leon, delivering to Publicola one of his feet, already washed and

"I am forced to take two pupils,two young fellows who, despairing of fortune, have quitted surgery for

corporistics; they were actually dying of hunger; and yet they are full of talent."

"I'm not asking you about pedestrial affairs, I want to know how you are getting on politically."

"Oh! you can speak out, that's my cousin; in a way he belongs to you; he thinks himself legitimist."

"Well! we are coming along, we are advancing! In five years from now Europe will be with us. Switzerland

and Italy are fermenting finely; and when the occasion comes we are all ready. Here, in Paris, we have fifty

thousand armed men, without counting two hundred thousand citizens who haven't a penny to live upon."

"In the first place, we sha'n't let the cannon in, and, in the second, we've got a little machine more powerful

than all the forts in the world,a machine, due to a doctor, which cured more people during the short time

"How you talk!" exclaimed Gazonal, whose flesh began to creep at Publicola's air and manner.

"Ha! that's the thing we rely on! We follow SaintJust and Robespierre; but we'll do better than they; they

were timid, and you see what came of it; an emperor! the elder branch! the younger branch! The Montagnards

"Ah ca! you, who will be, they tell me, consul, or something of that kind, tribune perhaps, be good enough to

remember," said Bixiou, "that I have asked your protection for the last dozen years."

"No harm shall happen to you; we shall need wags, and you can take the place of Barere," replied the

"Ah, you! you are my client, and that will save you; for genius is an odious privilege, to which too much is

accorded in France; we shall be forced to annihilate some of our greatest men in order to teach others to be

The corncutter spoke with a semiserious, semijesting air that made Gazonal shudder.

"No more religion OF THE STATE," replied the pedicure, emphasizing the last words; "every man will have

his own. It is very fortunate that the government is just now endowing convents; they'll provide our funds.

Everything, you see, conspires in our favour. Those who pity the peoples, who clamor on behalf of

proletaries, who write works against the Jesuits, who busy themselves about the amelioration of no matter

what,the communists, the humanitarians, the philanthropists, you understand,all these people are our

advanced guard. While we are storing gunpowder, they are making the tinder which the spark of a single

"Equality of citizens and cheapness of provisions. We mean that there will be no persons lacking anything, no

"The state will manufacture. We shall all be the usufructuaries of France; each will have his ration as on

"Ah!" said Gazonal, "and while awaiting the time when you can cut off the heads of aristocrats"

"I cut their nails," said the radical republican, putting up his tools and finishing the jest himself.

"If there were time we could show you," said his cousin, "all the personages of 1793, and you could talk with

them. You have just seen Marat; well! we know FouquierTinville, Collot d'Herbois, Robespierre, Chabot,

"It is six o'clock. Before we take you to see Odry in 'Les Saltimbauques' tonight," said Leon to Gazonal, "we

must go and pay a visit to Madame Cadine,an actress whom your committeeman Massol cultivates, and

"And as it is all important that you conciliate that power, I am going to give you a few instructions," said

"That's all I want to know," resumed Bixiou. "You are not married, and you are a great"

"Yes!" cried Gazonal, "you've guessed my strong point, I'm a great lover of women."

"Well, then! if you will execute the little manoeuvre which I am about to prescribe for you, you will taste,

without spending a farthing, the sweets to be found in the good graces of an actress."

When they reached the rue de la Victoire where the celebrated actress lived, Bixiou, who meditated a trick

upon the distrustful provincial, had scarcely finished teaching him his role; but Gazonal was quick, as we

The three friends went up to the second floor of a rather handsome house, and found Madame Jenny Cadine

just finishing dinner, for she played that night in an afterpiece at the Gymnase. Having presented Gazonal to

this great power, Leon and Bixiou, in order to leave them alone together, made the excuse of looking at a

piece of furniture in another room; but before leaving, Bixiou had whispered in the actress's ear: "He is

Leon's cousin, a manufacturer, enormously rich; he wants to win a suit before the Council of State against his

prefect, and he thinks it wise to fascinate you in order to get Massol on his side."

All Paris knows the beauty of that young actress, and will therefore understand the stupefaction of the

Southerner on seeing her. Though she had received him at first rather coldly, he became the object of her

"How strange!" said Gazonal, looking round him disdainfully on the furniture of the salon, the door of which

his accomplices had left half open, "that a woman like you should be allowed to live in such an illfurnished

"Ah, yes, indeed! but how can I help it? Massol is not rich; I am hoping he will be made a minister."

"Good!" thought she. "I shall have new furniture, and get the better of Carabine."

"Well, my dear!" said Leon, returning, "you'll be sure to come to Carabine's tonight, won't you?supper

"Will monsieur be there?" said Jenny Cadine, looking artlessly and graciously at Gazonal.

"Well, what of that?" returned Jenny. "Come, we must part, my treasures; I must go to the theatre."

Gazonal gave his hand to the actress, and led her to the citadine which was waiting for her; as he did so he

pressed hers with such ardor that Jenny Cadine exclaimed, shaking her fingers: "Take care! I haven't any

When the three friends got back into their own vehicle, Gazonal endeavoured to seize Bixiou round the waist,

At halfpast eleven o'clock, after the play, another citadine took the trio to the house of Mademoiselle

Seraphine Sinet, better known under the name of Carabine,one of those pseudonyms which famous lorettes

take, or which are given to them; a name which, in this instance, may have referred to the pigeons she had

Carabine, now become almost a necessity for the banker du Tillet, deputy of the Left, lived in a charming

house in the rue Saint Georges. In Paris there are many houses the destination of which never varies; and the

one we now speak of had already seen seven careers of courtesans. A broker had brought there, about the

year 1827, Suzanne du ValNoble, afterwards Madame Gaillard. In that house the famous Esther caused the

Baron de Nucingen to commit the only follies of his life. Florine, and subsequently, a person now called in

jest "the late Madame Schontz," had scintillated there in turn. Bored by his wife, du Tillet bought this modern

little house, and there installed the celebrated Carabine, whose lively wit and cavalier manners and shameless

brilliancy were a counterpoise to the dulness of domestic life, and the toils of finance and politics.

Whether du Tillet or Carabine were at home or not at home, supper was served, and splendidly served, for ten

persons every day. Artists, men of letters, journalists, and the habitues of the house supped there when they

pleased. After supper they gambled. More than one member of both Chambers came there to buy what Paris

pays for by its weight in gold,namely, the amusement of intercourse with anomalous untrammelled

women, those meteors of the Parisian firmament who are so difficult to class. There wit reigns; for all can be

said, and all is said. Carabine, a rival of the no less celebrated Malaga, had finally inherited the salon of

Florine, now Madame Raoul Nathan, and of Madame Schontz, now wife of ChiefJustice du Ronceret.

As he entered, Gazonal made one remark only, but that remark was both legitimate and legitimist: "It is finer

than the Tuileries!" The satins, velvets, brocades, the gold, the objects of art that swarmed there, so filled the

eyes of the wary provincial that at first he did not see Madame Jenny Cadine, in a toilet intended to inspire

respect, who, concealed behind Carabine, watched his entrance observingly, while conversing with others.

"My dear child," said Leon to Carabine, "this is my cousin, a manufacturer, who descended upon me from the

Pyrenees this morning. He knows nothing of Paris, and he wants Massol to help him in a suit he has before

the Council of State. We have therefore taken the liberty to bring himhis name is Gazonalto supper,

"That's as monsieur pleases; wine is dear," said Carabine, looking Gazonal over from head to foot, and

Gazonal, bewildered by the toilets, the lights, the gilding, the chatter of the various groups whom he thought

to be discussing him, could only manage to stammer out the words: "Madamemadameisvery good."

"Laces," said Gazonal, perceiving that he would have to pay for his supper. "It will give me the greatest

"Paris has caught me!" thought Gazonal, now perceiving Jenny Cadine, and going up to her.

"All I possess," replied Gazonal, thinking that to offer all was to give nothing.

Massol, Claude Vignon, du Tillet, Maxime de Trailles, Nucingen, du Bruel, Malaga, Monsieur and Madame

After a conversation with the manufacturer on the subject of his suit, Massol, without making any promises,

told him that the report was not yet written, and that citizens could always rely on the knowledge and the

independence of the Council of State. Receiving that cold and dignified response, Gazonal, in despair,

thought it necessary to set about seducing the charming Jenny, with whom he was by this time in love. Leon

de Lora and Bixiou left their victim in the hands of that most roguish and frolicsome member of the

anomalous society,for Jenny Cadine is the sole rival in that respect of the famous Dejazet.

At the suppertable, where Gazonal was fascinated by a silver service made by the modern Benvenuto

Cellini, FromentMeurice, the contents of which were worthy of the container, his mischievous friends were

careful to sit at some distance from him; but they followed with cautious eye the manoeuvres of the clever

actress, who, being attracted by the insidious hope of getting her furniture renewed, was playing her cards to

take the provincial home with her. No sheep upon the day of the FeteDieu ever more meekly allowed his

Three days later, Leon and Bixiou, who had not seen Gazonal since that evening, went to his lodgings about

"Well, cousin," said Leon, "the Council of State has decided in favour of your suit."

"Maybe, but it is useless now, cousin," said Gazonal, lifting a melancholy eye to his two friends. "I've

"I haven't anything left; not even enough to pay my lawyer," replied Gazonal. "Madame Jenny Cadine has got

notes of hand out of me to the amount of more money than all the property I own"

"Oh, but I didn't get anything for my money," said Gazonal. "What a woman! Well, I'll own the provinces are

"Good!" said Bixiou, "now you are reasonable. Come, recognize the majesty of the capital."

"You can't say now that we don't understand the duties of hospitality; haven't we educated you, saved you

"AND fooled you," added Leon, making the gesture of gamins to express the action of picking pockets.

Canalis, ConstantCyrMelchior, Baron de Letters of Two Brides A Distinguished Provincial at Paris

Modeste Mignon The Magic Skin Another Study of Woman A Start in Life Beatrix The Member for Arcis

Gaillard, Theodore A Distinguished Provincial at Paris Beatrix Scenes from a Courtesan's Life

Gaillard, Madame Theodore Jealousies of a Country Town A Distinguished Provincial at Paris A Bachelor's

Giraud, Leon A Distinguished Provincial at Paris A Bachelor's Establishment The Secrets of a Princess

Gobseck, JeanEsther Van Gobseck Father Goriot Cesar Birotteau The Government Clerks

Lora, Leon de A Bachelor's Establishment A Start in Life Pierre Grassou Honorine Cousin Betty Beatrix

Lousteau, Etienne A Distinguished Provincial at Paris A Bachelor's Establishment Scenes from a Courtesan's

Life A Daughter of Eve Beatrix The Muse of the Department Cousin Betty A Prince of Bohemia A Man of

Marsay, Henri de The Thirteen Another Study of Woman The Lily of the Valley Father Goriot Jealousies of a

Country Town Ursule Mirouet A Marriage Settlement Lost Illusions A Distinguished Provincial at Paris

Letters of Two Brides The Ball at Sceaux Modest Mignon The Secrets of a Princess The Gondreville Mystery

Massol Scenes from a Courtesan's Life The Magic Skin A Daughter of Eve Cousin Betty Nathan, Raoul Lost

Illusions A Distinguished Provincial at Paris Scenes from a Courtesan's Life The Secrets of a Princess A

Daughter of Eve Letters of Two Brides The Seamy Side of History The Muse of the Department A Prince of

Bohemia A Man of Business Nathan, Madame Raoul The Muse of the Department Lost Illusions A

Distinguished Provincial at Paris Scenes from a Courtesan's Life The Government Clerks A Bachelor's

Establishment Ursule Mirouet Eugenie Grandet The Imaginary Mistress A Prince of Bohemia A Daughter of

Nucingen, Baron Frederic de The Firm of Nucingen Father Goriot Pierrette Cesar Birotteau Lost Illusions A

Distinguished Provincial at Paris Scenes from a Courtesan's Life Another Study of Woman The Secrets of a

Rastignac, Eugene de Father Goriot A Distinguished Provincial at Paris Scenes from a Courtesan's Life The

Ball at Sceaux The Interdiction A Study of Woman Another Study of Woman The Magic Skin The Secrets of

a Princess A Daughter of Eve The Gondreville Mystery The Firm of Nucingen Cousin Betty The Member for

Schinner, Hippolyte The Purse A Bachelor's Establishment Pierre Grassou A Start in Life Albert Savarus The

Tillet, Ferdinand du Cesar Birotteau The Firm of Nucingen The Middle Classes A Bachelor's Establishment

Pierrette Melmoth Reconciled A Distinguished Provincial at Paris The Secrets of a Princess A Daughter of

Trailles, Comte Maxime de Cesar Birotteau Father Goriot Gobseck Ursule Mirouet A Man of Business The

Member for Arcis The Secrets of a Princess Cousin Betty The Member for Arcis Beatrix

Vignon, Claude A Distinguished Provincial at Paris A Daughter of Eve Honorine Beatrix Cousin Betty