as I called him when he sung a
seculare
for my amusement, while
I toasted him, in pure good humor, on a fork.
I toasted him, in pure good humor, on a fork.
Poe - 5
"
"Incontrovertibly-"
"No, sir! "
"Hiccup! --"
"No, sir! "
"And beyond all question, a-"
"No sir, the soul is no such thing! " (Here the philosopher, looking
daggers, took occasion to make an end, upon the spot, of his third
bottle of Chambertin. )
"Then--hic-cup! --pray, sir--what--what is it? "
"That is neither here nor there, Monsieur Bon-Bon," replied his Majesty,
musingly. "I have tasted--that is to say, I have known some very bad
souls, and some too--pretty good ones. " Here he smacked his lips, and,
having unconsciously let fall his hand upon the volume in his pocket,
was seized with a violent fit of sneezing.
He continued.
"There was the soul of Cratinus--passable: Aristophanes--racy:
Plato--exquisite--not your Plato, but Plato the comic poet; your Plato
would have turned the stomach of Cerberus--faugh! Then let me see! there
were Naevius, and Andronicus, and Plautus, and Terentius. Then there
were Lucilius, and Catullus, and Naso, and Quintus Flaccus,--dear
Quinty!
as I called him when he sung a seculare for my amusement, while
I toasted him, in pure good humor, on a fork. But they want flavor,
these Romans. One fat Greek is worth a dozen of them, and besides will
keep, which cannot be said of a Quirite. --Let us taste your Sauterne. "
Bon-Bon had by this time made up his mind to nil admirari and endeavored
to hand down the bottles in question. He was, however, conscious of a
strange sound in the room like the wagging of a tail. Of this,
although extremely indecent in his Majesty, the philosopher took no
notice:--simply kicking the dog, and requesting him to be quiet. The
visiter continued:
"I found that Horace tasted very much like Aristotle;--you know I am
fond of variety. Terentius I could not have told from Menander. Naso, to
my astonishment, was Nicander in disguise. Virgilius had a strong twang
of Theocritus. Martial put me much in mind of Archilochus--and Titus
Livius was positively Polybius and none other. "
"Hic-cup! " here replied Bon-Bon, and his majesty proceeded:
"But if I have a penchant, Monsieur Bon-Bon--if I have a penchant, it
is for a philosopher. Yet, let me tell you, sir, it is not every dev--I
mean it is not every gentleman who knows how to choose a philosopher.
Long ones are not good; and the best, if not carefully shelled, are apt
to be a little rancid on account of the gall!
"Incontrovertibly-"
"No, sir! "
"Hiccup! --"
"No, sir! "
"And beyond all question, a-"
"No sir, the soul is no such thing! " (Here the philosopher, looking
daggers, took occasion to make an end, upon the spot, of his third
bottle of Chambertin. )
"Then--hic-cup! --pray, sir--what--what is it? "
"That is neither here nor there, Monsieur Bon-Bon," replied his Majesty,
musingly. "I have tasted--that is to say, I have known some very bad
souls, and some too--pretty good ones. " Here he smacked his lips, and,
having unconsciously let fall his hand upon the volume in his pocket,
was seized with a violent fit of sneezing.
He continued.
"There was the soul of Cratinus--passable: Aristophanes--racy:
Plato--exquisite--not your Plato, but Plato the comic poet; your Plato
would have turned the stomach of Cerberus--faugh! Then let me see! there
were Naevius, and Andronicus, and Plautus, and Terentius. Then there
were Lucilius, and Catullus, and Naso, and Quintus Flaccus,--dear
Quinty!
as I called him when he sung a seculare for my amusement, while
I toasted him, in pure good humor, on a fork. But they want flavor,
these Romans. One fat Greek is worth a dozen of them, and besides will
keep, which cannot be said of a Quirite. --Let us taste your Sauterne. "
Bon-Bon had by this time made up his mind to nil admirari and endeavored
to hand down the bottles in question. He was, however, conscious of a
strange sound in the room like the wagging of a tail. Of this,
although extremely indecent in his Majesty, the philosopher took no
notice:--simply kicking the dog, and requesting him to be quiet. The
visiter continued:
"I found that Horace tasted very much like Aristotle;--you know I am
fond of variety. Terentius I could not have told from Menander. Naso, to
my astonishment, was Nicander in disguise. Virgilius had a strong twang
of Theocritus. Martial put me much in mind of Archilochus--and Titus
Livius was positively Polybius and none other. "
"Hic-cup! " here replied Bon-Bon, and his majesty proceeded:
"But if I have a penchant, Monsieur Bon-Bon--if I have a penchant, it
is for a philosopher. Yet, let me tell you, sir, it is not every dev--I
mean it is not every gentleman who knows how to choose a philosopher.
Long ones are not good; and the best, if not carefully shelled, are apt
to be a little rancid on account of the gall!
