st perhaps, die at once. The large
number forget, and thus all float on to death.

But there are some men, who, at the fell stroke of chance, neither die
nor forget; when it comes their turn to touch misfortune, otherwise
called truth, they approach it with a firm step and outstretched hand,
and, horrible to say! they mistake love for the livid corpse they have
found at the bottom of the river. They seize it, feel it, clasp it in
their arms; they are drunk with the desire to know; they no longer look
with interest upon things, except to see them pass; they do nothing
except doubt and test; they ransack the world as though they were God's
spies; they sharpen their thoughts into arrows, and give birth to a
monster.

Roues, more than all others, are exposed to that fury, and the reason is
very simple: ordinary life is the limpid surface, that of the roue is the
rapid current swirling over and over, and at times touching the bottom.
Coming from a ball, for instance, where they have danced with a modest
girl, they seek the company of bad characters, and spend the night in
riotous feasting. The last words they addressed to a beautiful and
virtuous woman are still on their lips; they repeat them and burst into
laughter. Shall I say it? Do they not raise, for some pieces of silver,
the vesture of chastity, that robe so full of mystery, which respects the
being it embellishes and engirds her without touching? What idea can they
have of the world? They are like comedians in the greenroom. Who, more
than they, is skilled in that delving to the bottom of things, in that
groping at once profound and impious? See how they speak of everything;
always in terms the most barren, crude, and abject; such words appear
true to them; the rest is only parade, convention, prejudice. Let them
tell a story, let them recount some experience, they will always use the
same dirty and material expressions. They do not say "That woman loved
me;" they say: "I betrayed that woman;" they do not say: "I love;" they
say, "I desire;" they never say: "If God wills;" they say: "If I will." I
do not know what they think of themselves and of such monologues as
these.

Hence, of a necessity, either from idleness or curiosity, while they
strive to find evil in everything, they do not comprehend that others
still believe in the good. Therefore they have to be so nonchalant as to
stop their ears, lest the hum of the busy world should suddenly startle
them from sl