would find this a fair field. But
I abstain. 'Tis luxury; so be it, but even an orgy should be kept
within bounds. You are gay, but noisy. You imitate successfully the
cries of beasts; but what would you say if, when you were making love to
a lady, I passed my time in barking at you? It would disturb you, and so
it disturbs us. I order you to hold your tongues. Art is as respectable
as debauch. I speak to you civilly."

He apostrophized himself,--

"May the fever strangle you, with your eyebrows like the beard of rye."

And he replied,--

"Honourable gentlemen, let the rye alone. It is impious to insult the
vegetables, by likening them either to human creatures or animals.
Besides, the fever does not strangle. 'Tis a false metaphor. For pity's
sake, keep silence. Allow me to tell you that you are slightly wanting
in the repose which characterizes the true English gentleman. I see that
some amongst you, who have shoes out of which their toes are peeping,
take advantage of the circumstance to rest their feet on the shoulders
of those who are in front of them, causing the ladies to remark that the
soles of shoes divide always at the part at which is the head of the
metatarsal bones. Show more of your hands and less of your feet. I
perceive scamps who plunge their ingenious fists into the pockets of
their foolish neighbours. Dear pickpockets, have a little modesty. Fight
those next to you if you like; do not plunder them. You will vex them
less by blackening an eye, than by lightening their purses of a penny.
Break their noses if you like. The shopkeeper thinks more of his money
than of his beauty. Barring this, accept my sympathies, for I am not
pedantic enough to blame thieves. Evil exists. Every one endures it,
every one inflicts it. No one is exempt from the vermin of his sins.
That's what I keep saying. Have we not all our itch? I myself have made
mistakes. _Plaudite, cives_."

Ursus uttered a long groan, which he overpowered by these concluding
words,--

"My lords and gentlemen, I see that my address has unluckily displeased
you. I take leave of your hisses for a moment. I shall put on my head,
and the performance is going to begin."

He dropt his oratorical tone, and resumed his usual voice.

"Close the curtains. Let me breathe. I have spoken like honey. I have
spoken well. My words were like velvet; but they were useless. I called
them my lords and gentlemen. What do you think of all this scum,
Gwynplaine?