e had nailed and riveted him to an office which
was unworthy him. Yes; that he, Barkilphedro, almost a clergyman, of
varied and profound talent, a learned man, with the material in him for
a bishop, should have for employ the registration of nasty
patience-trying shards, that he should have to pass his life in the
garret of a register-office, gravely uncorking stupid bottles, incrusted
with all the nastiness of the sea, deciphering musty parchments, like
filthy conjuring-books, dirty wills, and other illegible stuff of the
kind, was the fault of this Josiana. Worst of all, this creature
"thee'd" and "thou'd" him! And he should not revenge himself--he should
not punish such conduct! Well, in that case there would no longer be
justice on earth!

CHAPTER X.

THE FLAME WHICH WOULD BE SEEN IF MAN WERE TRANSPARENT.

What! this woman, this extravagant thing, this libidinous dreamer, a
virgin until the opportunity occurred, this bit of flesh as yet unfreed,
this bold creature under a princess's coronet; this Diana by pride, as
yet untaken by the first comer, just because chance had so willed it;
this bastard of a low-lived king who had not the intellect to keep his
place; this duchess by a lucky hit, who, being a fine lady, played the
goddess, and who, had she been poor, would have been a prostitute; this
lady, more or less, this robber of a proscribed man's goods, this
overbearing strumpet, because one day he, Barkilphedro, had not money
enough to buy his dinner, and to get a lodging--she had had the
impudence to seat him in her house at the corner of a table, and to put
him up in some hole in her intolerable palace. Where? never mind where.
Perhaps in the barn, perhaps in the cellar; what does it matter? A
little better than her valets, a little worse than her horses. She had
abused his distress--his, Barkilphedro's--in hastening to do him
treacherous good; a thing which the rich do in order to humiliate the
poor, and to tie them, like curs led by a string. Besides, what did the
service she rendered him cost her? A service is worth what it costs. She
had spare rooms in her house. She came to Barkilphedro's aid! A great
thing, indeed. Had she eaten a spoonful the less of turtle soup for it?
had she deprived herself of anything in the hateful overflowing of her
superfluous luxuries? No. She had added to it a vanity, a luxury, a good
action like a ring on her finger, the relief of a man of wit, the
patronization of a