difficult to find than--what shall I say? than--I don't know what--a
minister?--(Sit still!) No, for you can't judge by ministers, the
streets are full of them. A Paganini? No, he's not great enough. A
hair-dresser, monsieur, a man who divines your soul and your habits,
in order to dress your hair conformably with your being, that man has
all that constitutes a philosopher--and such he is. See the women!
Women appreciate us; they know our value; our value to them is the
conquest they make when they have placed their heads in our hands to
attain a triumph. I say to you that a hair-dresser--the world does not
know what he is. I who speak to you, I am very nearly all that there
is of--without boasting I may say I am known--Still, I think more
might be done--The execution, that is everything! Ah! if women would
only give me carte blanche!--if I might only execute the ideas that
come to me! I have, you see, a hell of imagination!--but the women
don't fall in with it; they have their own plans; they'll stick their
fingers or combs, as soon as my back is turned, through the most
delicious edifices--which ought to be engraved and perpetuated; for
our works, monsieur, last unfortunately but a few hours. A great
hair-dresser, hey! he's like Careme and Vestris in their careers.
(Head a little this way, if you please, SO; I attend particularly to
front faces!) Our profession is ruined by bunglers who understand
neither the epoch nor their art. There are dealers in wigs and
essences who are enough to make one's hair stand on end; they care
only to sell you bottles. It is pitiable! But that's business. Such
poor wretches cut hair and dress it as they can. I, when I arrived in
Paris from Toulouse, my ambition was to succeed the great Marius, to
be a true Marius, to make that name illustrious. I alone, more than
all the four others, I said to myself, 'I will conquer, or die.'
(There! now sit straight, I am going to finish you.) I was the first
to introduce _elegance_; I made my salons the object of curiosity. I