Gerfaut — Volume 4 by Charles de Bernard
page 11 of 96 (11%)
page 11 of 96 (11%)
|
"I will begin our artistic conversation: 'Knowest thou the land where the
orange-flower blooms?'" "It is warmer than ours," replied the notary, who was not familiar with Mignon's song; and, beginning to laugh maliciously, he gave a wink at his neighbors as if to say: "I have settled him now." Marillac leaned toward him with the meekness of a lamb that presents his head to the butcher, and sympathetically pressed his hands. "O poet!" he continued, "do you not feel, as I do at the twilight hour and in the eventide, a vague desire for a sunny, perfumed, southern life? Will you not bid adieu to this sterile country and sail away to a land where the blue sky is reflected in the blue sea? Venice! the Rialto, the Bridge of Sighs, Saint Mark! Rome! the Coliseum and Saint Peter-- But I know Italy by heart; let us go instead to Constantinople. I am thirsting for sultanas and houris; I am thirsting--" "Good gracious! why do you not drink if you are thirsty?" "Gladly. I never say no to that. I scorn love in a nightcap; I adore danger. Danger is life to me. I dote on silken ladders as long as Jacob's, on citadels worth scaling; on moonlight evenings, bearded husbands, and all that sort of thing--I would love a bed composed of five hundred poniards; you understand me, poet--" |
|