A fig then for England！If I do not admire John Bull，shall I admire Brother Jonathan？I have but little taste for that slave-holding brother.
Take away Time is money，what remains of England？
Take away Cotton is king，what remains of America？
Germany is the lymph，Italy is the bile.Shall we go into ecstasies over Russia？
Voltaire admired it.
He also admired China.
I admit that Russia has its beauties，among others，a stout despotism；but I pity the despots.
Their health is delicate.A decapitated Alexis，a poignarded Peter，a strangled Paul，another Paul crushed flat with kicks，divers Ivans strangled，with their throats cut，numerous Nicholases and Basils poisoned，all this indicates that the palace of the Emperors of Russia is in a condition of flagrant insalubrity.
All civilized peoples offer this detail to the admiration of the thinker；war；now，war，civilized war，exhausts and sums up all the forms of ruffianism，from the brigandage of the Trabuceros in the gorges of Mont Jaxa to the marauding of the Comanche Indians in the Doubtful Pass.Bah！'you will say to me，but Europe is certainly better than Asia？'I admit that Asia is a farce；but I do not precisely see what you find to laugh at in the Grand Lama，you peoples of the west，who have mingled with your fashions and your elegances all the complicated filth of majesty，from the dirty chemise of Queen Isabella to the chamber-chair of the Dauphin.
Gentlemen of the human race，I tell you，not a bit of it！
It is at Brussels that the most beer is consumed，at Stockholm the most brandy，at Madrid the most chocolate，at Amsterdam the most gin，at London the most wine，at Constantinople the most coffee，at Paris the most absinthe；there are all the useful notions.
Paris carries the day，in short.In Paris，even the rag-pickers are sybarites；Diogenes would have loved to be a rag-picker of the Place Maubert better than to be a philosopher at the Piraeus.
Learn this in addition；the wineshops of the ragpickers are called bibines；the most celebrated are the Saucepan and The Slaughter-House.Hence，tea-gardens，goguettes，caboulots，bouibuis，mastroquets，bastringues，manezingues，bibines of the rag-pickers，caravanseries of the caliphs，I certify to you，I am a voluptuary，I eat at Richard's at forty sous a head，I must have Persian carpets to roll naked Cleopatra in！
Where is Cleopatra？
Ah！
So it is you，Louison.
Good day.'
[24]The slang term for a painter's assistant.
Thus did Grantaire，more than intoxicated，launch into speech，catching at the dish-washer in her passage，from his corner in the back room of the Cafe Musain.
Bossuet，extending his hand towards him，tried to impose silence on him，and Grantaire began again worse than ever：——
'Aigle de Meaux，down with your paws.
You produce on me no effect with your gesture of Hippocrates refusing Artaxerxes'bric-a-brac.I excuse you from the task of soothing me.
Moreover，I am sad.What do you wish me to say to you？
Man is evil，man is deformed；the butterfly is a success，man is a failure.
God made a mistake with that animal.
A crowd offers a choice of ugliness.The first comer is a wretch，Femme——woman——rhymes with infame，——infamous.
Yes，I have the spleen，complicated with melancholy，with homesickness，plus hypochondria，and I am vexed and I rage，and I yawn，and I am bored，and I am tired to death，and I am stupid！Let God go to the devil！'
'Silence then，capital R！'resumed Bossuet，who was discussing a point of law behind the scenes，and who was plunged more than waist high in a phrase of judicial slang，of which this is the conclusion：——
'——And as for me，although I am hardly a legist，and at the most，an ******* attorney，I maintain this：
that，in accordance with the terms of the customs of Normandy，at Saint-Michel，and for each year，an equivalent must be paid to the profit of the lord of the manor，saving the rights of others，and by all and several，the proprietors as well as those seized with inheritance，and that，for all emphyteuses，leases，freeholds，contracts of domain，mortgages——'
'Echo，plaintive nymph，'hummed Grantaire.
Near Grantaire，an almost silent table，a sheet of paper，an inkstand and a pen between two glasses of brandy，announced that a vaudeville was being sketched out.
This great affair was being discussed in a low voice，and the two heads at work touched each other：
'Let us begin by finding names.When one has the names，one finds the subject.'
'That is true.
Dictate.
I will write.'
'Monsieur Dorimon.'
'An independent gentleman？'
'Of course.'
'His daughter，Celestine.'
'——tine.
What next？'
'Colonel Sainval.'
'Sainval is stale.
I should say Valsin.'
Beside the vaudeville aspirants，another group，which was also taking advantage of the uproar to talk low，was discussing a duel.An old fellow of thirty was counselling a young one of eighteen，and explaining to him what sort of an adversary he had to deal with.
'The deuce！
Look out for yourself.
He is a fine swordsman.
His play is neat.
He has the attack，no wasted feints，wrist，dash，lightning，a just parade，mathematical parries，bigre！and he is left-handed.'
In the angle opposite Grantaire，Joly and Bahorel were playing dominoes，and talking of love.
'You are in luck，that you are，'Joly was saying.
'You have a mistress who is always laughing.'
'That is a fault of hers，'returned Bahorel.
'One's mistress does wrong to laugh.
That encourages one to deceive her.
To see her gay removes your remorse；if you see her sad，your conscience pricks you.'
'Ingrate！a woman who laughs is such a good thing！
And you never quarrel！'
'That is because of the treaty which we have made.
On forming our little Holy Alliance we assigned ourselves each our frontier，which we never cross.
What is situated on the side of winter belongs to Vaud，on the side of the wind to Gex.
Hence the peace.'
'Peace is happiness digesting.'
'And you，Jolllly，where do you stand in your entanglement with Mamselle——you know whom I mean？'
'She sulks at me with cruel patience.'
