beside a sage, and are pleased to bring to their lovers the most
beautiful of their sisters. Very soon you'll experience that, as a
fact, they push politeness to the point I mentioned, and not a year,
nay not six months, will pass before your room will be the trysting
place of five or six daughters of the light, who will untie before
you their sparkling girdles. Do not be afraid, my son, to answer
their caresses. Your own fairy love will not take umbrage. How could
she be offended, wise as she is? And on your side, do not get
irritated if your Salamander leaves you for a moment to visit
another philosopher. Consider that the proud jealousy men bring into
the union of the sexes is but a savage sentiment, founded on the
most ridiculous of illusions. It rests on the idea that a woman
belongs to you because she has given herself to you, which is
nothing but a play on words."

While making this speech, M. d'Asterac had turned into the lane of
the mandrakes, where we could see Mosaide's cottage, half hidden by
foliage, when suddenly an appalling voice burst upon us and made my
heart beat faster--hoarse sounds, accompanied by a sharp gnashing,
and on getting nearer the sounds seemed to be modulated, and each
phrase ended in a sort of very feeble melody, which could not be
listened to without shuddering.

Advancing a few paces we could, by listening closely, understand the
sense of the strange words. The voice said:

"Hear the malediction with which Elisha cursed the insolent and
mirthful children. Listen to the anathema Barak flung on Meros.

"I curse thee in the name of Archithuriel, who is also called the