this bold creature under a princess's coronet; this Diana by pride, as

yet untaken by the first comer, just because chance had so willed it;

this bastard of a low-lived king who had not the intellect to keep his

place; this duchess by a lucky hit, who, being a fine lady, played the

goddess, and who, had she been poor, would have been a prostitute; this

lady, more or less, this robber of a proscribed man's goods, this

overbearing strumpet, because one day he, Barkilphedro, had not money

enough to buy his dinner, and to get a lodging--she had had the

impudence to seat him in her house at the corner of a table, and to put

him up in some hole in her intolerable palace. Where? never mind where.

Perhaps in the barn, perhaps in the cellar; what does it matter? A

little better than her valets, a little worse than her horses. She had

abused his distress--his, Barkilphedro's--in hastening to do him

treacherous good; a thing which the rich do in order to humiliate the

poor, and to tie them, like curs led by a string. Besides, what did the

service she rendered him cost her? A service is worth what it costs. She

had spare rooms in her house. She came to Barkilphedro's aid! A great

thing, indeed. Had she eaten a spoonful the less of turtle soup for it?

had she deprived herself of anything in the hateful overflowing of her

superfluous luxuries? No. She had added to it a vanity, a luxury, a good

action like a ring on her finger, the relief of a man of wit, the

patronization of a clergyman. She could give herself airs: say, "I

lavish kindness; I fill the mouths of men of letters; I am his

benefactress. How lucky the wretch was to find me out! What a patroness

of the arts I am!" All for having set up a truckle bed in a wretched

garret in the roof. As for the place in the Admiralty, Barkilphedro owed

it to Josiana; by Jove, a pretty appointment! Josiana had made

367

The Man Who Laughs