- So, to gratify the poor fellow, who
stood trembling for my honour, his own, and the honour of his
letter, - I took the cream gently off it, and whipping it up in my
own way, I seal'd it up and sent him with it to Madame de L-; - and
the next morning we pursued our journey to Paris.
PARIS.
When a man can contest the point by dint of equipage, and carry all
on floundering before him with half a dozen of lackies and a couple
of cooks - 'tis very well in such a place as Paris, - he may drive in
at which end of a street he will.
A poor prince who is weak in cavalry, and whose whole infantry does
not exceed a single man, had best quit the field, and signalize
himself in the cabinet, if he can get up into it; - I say UP INTO
IT - for there is no descending perpendicular amongst 'em with a "Me
voici! mes enfans" - here I am - whatever many may think.
I own my first sensations, as soon as I was left solitary and alone
in my own chamber in the hotel, were far from being so flattering
as I had prefigured them. I walked up gravely to the window in my
dusty black coat, and looking through the glass saw all the world
in yellow, blue, and green, running at the ring of pleasure. - The
old with broken lances, and in helmets which had lost their
vizards; - the young in armour bright which shone like gold,
beplumed with each gay feather of the east, - all, - all, tilting at
it like fascinated knights in tournaments of yore for fame and
love. -
Alas, poor Yorick! cried I, what art thou doing here? On the very
first onset of all this glittering clatter thou art reduced to an
atom; - seek, - seek some winding alley, with a tourniquet at the end
of it, where chariot never rolled or flambeau shot its rays; - there
thou mayest solace thy soul in converse sweet with some kind
grisette of a barber's wife, and get into such coteries! -
- May I perish! if I do, said I, pulling out the letter which I had
to present to Madame de R- - I'll wait upon this lady, the very
first thing I do. So I called La Fleur to go seek me a barber
directly, - and come back and brush my coat.
THE WIG. PARIS.
When the barber came, he absolutely refused to have any thing to do
with my wig: 'twas either above or below his art: I had nothing
to do but to take one ready made of his own recommendation.
- But I fear, friend! said I, this buckle won't stand. - You may
emerge it, replied he, into the ocean, and it will stand. -
What a great scale is every thing upon in this city thought I. - The
utmost stretch of an English periwig-maker's ideas could have gone
no further than to have "dipped it into a pail of water." - What
difference!
