the taste of my patrons, and better
adapted to their special needs than inconvenient virtues would be,
which from morning to night would be standing accusations against
them, it would be strange indeed if I should torture myself like one
of the damned to twist and turn and make of myself something which I
am not, and hide myself beneath a character foreign to me, and assume
the most estimable qualities, whose worth I will not dispute, but
which I could acquire and live up to only by great exertions, and
which after all would lead to nothing,--perhaps to worse than nothing.
Moreover, ought a beggar like me, who lives upon the wealthy,
constantly to hold up to his patrons a mirror of good conduct? People
praise virtue but hate it; they fly from it, let it freeze; and in
this world a man has to keep his feet warm. Besides, I should always
be in the sourest humor: for why is it that the pious and the
devotional are so hard, so repellent, so unsociable? It is because
they have imposed upon themselves a task contrary to their nature.
They suffer, and when a man suffers he makes others suffer. Now, that
is no affair of mine or of my patrons'. I must be in good spirits,
easy, affable, full of sallies, drollery, and folly. Virtue demands
reverence, and reverence is inconvenient; virtue challenges
admiration, and admiration is not entertaining. I have to do with
people whose time hangs heavy on their hands; they want to laugh. Now
consider the folly: the ludicrous makes people laugh, and I therefore
must be a fool; I must be amusing, and if nature had not made me so,
then by hook or by crook I should have made myself seem so.
Fortunately I have no need to play the hypocrite. There are hypocrites
enough of all colors without me, and not counting those who deceive
themselves.... Should it ever occur to friend Rameau to play Cato, to
despise fortune, women, good living, idleness, what would he be? A
hypocrite. Let Rameau remain what he is, a happy robber among wealthy
robbers, and a man without either real or boasted virtue. In short,
your idea of happiness, the happiness of a few enthusiastic dreamers
like you, has no charm for me....

_I_--He earns his bread dearly, who in order to live must assail
virtue and knowledge.

_He_--I have already told you that we are of no consequence. We
slander all men and grieve none.

[The dialogue reverts to music.]

_I_--Every imitation has its original in nature. What is the
musician's