{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_60914/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_60914","id":"gutenberg_60914","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60914","summary":null,"tags":["Category: French Literature","Category: Novels","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","French fiction -- 19th century","Nobel Prizes in Literature","Prometheus (Greek deity) -- Fiction"],"text":"PROMETHEUS\n  ILLBOUND\n\n  BY ANDR\u00c9 GIDE\n\n\n  LITERAL TRANSLATION FROM THE\n  FRENCH BY\n  LILIAN ROTHERMERE\n\n\n  LONDON\n  CHATTO AND WINDUS\n  1919\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThe work of art is the exaggeration of an idea, says Gide in the\nepilogue of the \u201cPrometheus Illbound.\u201d This is really the explanation\nof the whole book and of many other books of Gide.\n\nHis world is a world of abstract ideas, under the action of which most\nof his characters move as marionettes. \u201cTime and space are the boards,\nwhich, with the help of our minds, have been set up by the innumerable\ntruths of the universe as a stage for their own performances. And there\nwe play our parts like determined, convinced, devoted and voluptuous\nmarionettes.\u201d\n\nThat is the reason why there is a determinist atmosphere in his books\nand that even the disinterested act appears as the reaction of the\nmind on its own concept. Zeus, the banker, poses this disinterested act\nbecause his thought refuses or hesitates to admit it; the same thing\nhappens with Lafcadio in the \u201cCaves du Vatican\u201d when he is on the point\nof murdering Am\u00e9d\u00e9e Fleurissoire.\n\nThe tyranny of ideas is the dominating force of his characters. Even\nhis first writings--where one finds some of his best pages, which\nappear to be purely lyrical explosion--such as \u201cLes Nourritures\nTerrestres\u201d and \u201cLe Voyage d\u2019Urien,\u201d are really the songs of a\nmind which leads its life by the _concept_ of eternal desire and\ndetachment--a mind very near that of Nietzsche.\n\nIt is because of that tyranny of ideas that Gide is attracted by\nreligious psychology. After all, Alissa of \u201cLa Porte \u00c9troite\u201d\nsacrifices her life and her happiness to her ideas. It is because\nof that also that one of the most daring books of the time,\n\u201cL\u2019Immoraliste,\u201d is written in the most moral way: the feelings are\nonly described by their reaction on the brain. And this applies to\nnearly the whole work of Gide.\n\nEven his concept of heroism is ruled by it. His heroes are monomaniacs\nof a thought which they believe or create ideal. His \u201cRoi Candaule\u201d is\na man stupefied by the _idea_ of his possessions.\n\nThat which does not nourish his brain is a reason for depression, and\nas love or passion absorbs the brain without nourishing it, he resents\nit. Every attempt of a purely amorous adventure is a failure, as well\nin \u201cL\u2019Immoraliste\u201d as in the \u201cTentative Amoureuse.\u201d\n\nOn the contrary, when it becomes by struggle a problem for the brain\nit excites him. Alissa was really his only love, and he could not\nlove Isabelle when she had lost her power of attraction through the\nrevelation of the unknown she represented to his mind.\n\nThe exaltation of Gide is a Nietzschean exaltation--it is an exaltation\ncaused by the power of mind.\n\nThe definition of genius he gives in \u201cPr\u00e9textes\u201d is very characteristic\nfrom that point of view. He calls it: \u201cLe sentiment de la ressource.\u201d\n\nHis sensitiveness is the sensitiveness of the brain, which is so acute\nthat it vibrates through his whole personality. From there comes the\nclear, logical form of his tales.\n\nThe book, \u201cPrometheus Illbound,\u201d which we present to the English public\nto-day is one of the most characteristic books of Gide: a work of pure\nintellectual fantasy, where the subtle brain of the author has full\nplay. It is the expression of the humorous side of a mind which must be\nranked among the greatest of the world\u2019s literature.\n\n                                                      LILIAN ROTHERMERE.\n\n\n\n\n  PROMETHEUS\n  ILLBOUND\n\n        Eagle, vulture or dove.\n                        VICTOR HUGO.\n\n\n\n\nIn the month of May 189..., at two o\u2019clock in the afternoon, this\noccurred which might appear strange:\n\nOn the boulevard leading from the Madeleine to the Op\u00e9ra, a stout\ngentleman of middle age, with nothing remarkable about him but uncommon\ncorpulence, was approached by a thin gentleman, who smilingly, thinking\nno harm, we believe, gave him back a handkerchief that he had just\ndropped. The corpulent gentleman thanked him briefly and was going his\nway when he suddenly leant towards the thin man and must have asked\nfor information, which must have been given, for he produced from his\npocket a portable inkpot and pens, which without more ado he handed to\nthe thin gentleman, and also an envelope which up to this minute he had\nbeen holding in his hand. And those who passed could see the thin man\nwriting an address upon it.--But here begins the strange part of the\nstory, which no newspaper, however, reported: the thin gentleman, after\nhaving given back the pen and the envelope, had not even the time to\nsmile adieu when the fat gentleman, in form of thanks, abruptly struck\nhim on the face, then jumped in a cab and disappeared, before any of\nthe spectators, stupefied with surprise (I was there), thought of\nstopping him.\n\nI have been told since that it was Zeus, the banker.\n\nThe thin gentleman, visibly upset by the attentions of the crowd,\ninsisted that he had hardly felt the blow, notwithstanding that the\nblood poured out of his nose and his cut-open lip. He begged them to\nbe kind enough to leave him alone, and the crowd, on his insistence,\nslowly dispersed. Thus the reader will allow us to leave at present\nsome one he will hear of sufficiently later on.\n\n\n\n\nA CHRONICLE OF PRIVATE MORALITY\n\n\nI\n\n\nI will not speak of public morals, for there are none, but this reminds\nme of an anecdote:\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen, on the heights of the Caucasus, Prometheus found that chains,\nclamps, strait-waistcoats, parapets, and other scruples, had on the\nwhole a numbing effect on him, for a change he turned to the left,\nstretched his right arm and, between the fourth and fifth hours of\nan autumn afternoon, walked down the boulevard which leads from\nthe Madeleine to the Op\u00e9ra. Different Parisian celebrities passed\ncontinually before his eyes. Where are they going? Prometheus asked\nhimself, and settling himself in a caf\u00e9 with a book he asked: \u201cWaiter,\nwhere are they going?\u201d\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF THE WAITER AND THE MIGLIONAIRE\n\n--If his lordship could see them coming and going every day as I do,\nsaid the waiter, he would also ask where do they come from? It must be\nthe same place, as they pass every day. I say to myself: Since they\nalways return they cannot have found what they want. I now wait for his\nlordship to ask me: What are they looking for? and his lordship will\nsee what I shall reply.\n\nThen Prometheus asked: What are they looking for?\n\nThe waiter replied: Since they do not remain where they go, it cannot\nbe happiness. His lordship may believe me or not, and, coming nearer,\nhe said in a low voice: They are looking for their personalities;--His\nlordship does not live here?...\n\n--No, said Prometheus.\n\n--One can easily see that, said the waiter; Yes: personality; we call\nit here idiosyncrasy: Like me (for example), from what you see, you\nthink I am just a waiter in a restaurant! Well! your lordship, no!\nIt is by choice; you may believe me or not: I have an inner life: I\nobserve. Personalities are the only interesting things; and then the\nrelations between personalities. It is very well arranged in this\nrestaurant; tables for three; I will explain the management later on.\nYou will dine soon, will you not? We will introduce you....\n\nPrometheus was a little tired. The waiter continued: Yes, tables for\nthree, that is what I found the easiest: three gentlemen arrive; they\nare introduced; they are introduced (if they wish it, of course), for\nin my restaurant before dining you must give your name; then say what\nyou do; so much the worse if you deceive each other. Then you sit down\n(not I); you talk (not I, of course)--but I put you in sympathy; I\nlisten; I scrutinize; I direct the conversation. At the end of dinner I\nknow three inner men, three personalities! They, no. I, you understand,\nI listen, I bring into relation; they submit to the relationship....\nYou will ask me: What do you gain by this? Oh, nothing at all! It\npleases me to create relationships.... Oh! not for me!... It is what\none could call an absolutely gratuitous act.\n\nPrometheus appeared a little tired. The waiter continued: A gratuitous\nact! Does this convey nothing to you?--To me it seems extraordinary. I\nthought for a long time that this was the one thing that distinguished\nman from the animals--a gratuitous act. I called man an animal capable\nof a gratuitous act;--and then afterwards I thought the contrary; that\nman is the only being incapable of acting gratuitously;--gratuitously!\njust think; without reason--yes, I hear--shall we say without motive;\nincapable! then this idea began to fidget me. I said to myself:\nwhy does he do this? why does he do that? ... and yet I am not a\ndeterminist ... but that reminds me of an anecdote:\n\n--I have a friend, my lord, you will hardly believe me, who he is a\nmiglionaire. He is also intelligent. He said to himself: A gratuitous\nact? how to do it? And understand this does not only mean an act\nthat brings no return.... No, but gratuitous: an act that has no\nmotive. Do you understand? no interest, no passion, nothing. The act\ndisinterested; born of itself; the act without aim, thus without\nmaster; the free act; the act Autochthon!\n\n--Hey? said Prometheus.\n\n--Listen well, said the waiter. My friend went out one morning, taking\nwith him a bank-note of \u00a320 in an envelope and a blow prepared in his\nhand.\n\nThe point was to find somebody without choosing him. So he drops his\nhandkerchief in the street, and, to the man who picks it up (evidently\nkindly since he picked it up), the miglionaire:\n\n--Pardon, sir, do you not know some one?\n\nThe other:--Yes, several.\n\nThe miglionaire: Then, sir, will you have the kindness to write his\nname on this envelope; here is a table, pens, and a pencil....\n\nThe other, good-naturedly, writes, then:--Now, sir, will you explain\nyourself...?\n\nThe miglionaire replies: It is on principle; then (I forgot to tell you\nhe is very strong) he strikes him with the blow he had in his hand;\nthen calls a cab and disappears.\n\nDo you understand?--two gratuitous acts in one go! The bank-note of \u00a320\nsent to an address which he had not selected, and the blow given to a\nperson who selected himself to pick up the handkerchief. No! but is\nit gratuitous enough? And the relation? I bet you have not seriously\nscrutinized the relationship; for, as the act is gratuitous, it is what\nwe call here reversible: One receives \u00a320 for a blow, and the other a\nblow for \u00a320 ... then.... No one knows ... one is lost--think of it! A\ngratuitous act! There is nothing more demoralizing.--But my lord is\nbeginning to be hungry; I beg his lordship\u2019s pardon; I forget myself, I\ntalk too much.... Will his lordship kindly give me his name,--so that I\ncan introduce him....\n\n--Prometheus, said Prometheus simply.\n\n--Prometheus! I was right, his lordship is a stranger here ... and his\nlordship\u2019s occupation is...?\n\n--I do nothing, said Prometheus.\n\n--Oh! no. No, said the waiter with an ingratiating smile.--Only to see\nhis lordship, one knows at once that he is a man with an occupation.\n\n--It is so long ago, stammered Prometheus.\n\n--Never mind, never mind, continued the waiter. Anyway, his lordship\nneed not be uneasy; in introducing I only say the name, if you like;\nbut the occupation never. Come, tell me: his lordship\u2019s occupation\nis...?\n\n--Making matches, murmured Prometheus, blushing.\n\nThere followed a painful silence, the waiter understanding that he\nshould not have insisted, Prometheus feeling that he should not have\nanswered.\n\nIn a consoling tone: Well! after all his lordship does not make them\nany more ... said the waiter. But then, what? I must write down\nsomething, I cannot write simply: Prometheus. His lordship has perhaps\nan avocation, a speciality.... After all, what can his lordship do?\n\n--Nothing, again said Prometheus.\n\n--Then let us say: Journalist.--Now, if his lordship will come into the\nrestaurant; I cannot serve dinner outside. And he cried:--A table for\nthree! one!...\n\nBy two doors two gentlemen entered; they could be seen giving their\nnames to the waiter; but the introductions not having been asked for,\nwithout more ado the two men both sat down.\n\nAnd when they had sat down:\n\n\nII\n\n--Gentlemen, said one of them,--if I have come to this restaurant,\nwhere the food is bad, it is only to talk. I have a horror of solitary\nmeals, and this system of tables for three pleases me, as with two one\nmight wrangle.... But you look taciturn?\n\n--It is quite unintentional, said Prometheus.\n\n--Shall I continue?\n\n--Yes, please do.\n\n--It seems to me quite possible that during lunch three people have\ntime to become very well known to each other,--not losing too much time\neating,--not talking too much; and avoiding trite topics; I mean to say\nmentioning only strictly individual experiences. I do not pretend that\none is obliged to talk, but why come to this restaurant, where the\nfood is bad, if conversation does not suit you?\n\nPrometheus was very tired: the waiter leant over and whispered: That is\nCocles. The one who is going to speak is Damocles.\n\nDamocles said:\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF DAMOCLES\n\nSir, if you had said that to me a month ago, I should have had nothing\nto say; but after what happened to me last month, all my ideas have\nchanged. I will not speak of my old thoughts except to make you\nunderstand in what way I have changed.--Now, gentlemen, since thirty\ndays I feel that I am an original, unique being, with a very singular\ndestiny.--So, gentlemen, you can deduct that before I felt the\ncontrary, I lived a perfectly ordinary life and made it my business\nto be as commonplace as possible. Now, however, I must admit that a\ncommonplace man does not exist, and I affirm that it is a vain ambition\nto try to resemble everybody, for everybody is composed of each one,\nand each one does not resemble anybody. But never mind, I took the\ngreatest pains to put things right; I drew up statistics; I calculated\nthe happy medium--without understanding that extremes meet, that he\nwho goes to bed very late comes across him who gets up very early,\nand that he who chooses the happy medium risks to fall between two\nstools.--Every night I went to bed at ten. I slept eight hours and a\nhalf. I was most careful in all my actions to copy the majority, and in\nall my thoughts the most approved opinions. Useless to insist.\n\nBut one day a personal adventure happened to me, the importance of\nwhich in the life of a well-ordered man as I was can only be understood\nlater on. It is a precedent; it is terrible. And I received it.\n\n\nIII\n\nJust imagine, one morning I received a letter. Gentlemen, I see by\nyour lack of astonishment that I am telling my story very badly. I\nshould have told you first that I did not expect any letters. I receive\nexactly two a year: one from my landlord to ask for the rent, and one\nfrom my bankers to inform me that I can pay it; but on the first of\nJanuary I received a third letter.... I cannot tell you where from.\nThe address was in an unknown hand. The complete lack of character\nshown in the writing, which was revealed to me by graphologists, whom\nI consulted, gave me no clue. The only indication the writing gave\nwas one of great kindness; and here again certain of them inferred\nweakness. They could make nothing of it. The writing ... I speak, you\nunderstand, of the writing on the envelope; for in the envelope there\nwas none; none--not a word, not a line. In the envelope there was\nnothing but a bank-note of \u00a320.\n\nI was just going to drink my chocolate; but I was so astonished that\nI let it get cold. I searched my mind ... nobody owes me money. I\nhave a fixed revenue, gentlemen, and with little economies each year,\nnotwithstanding the continual fall in the value of stock, I manage\nto live within my income. I expected nothing, as I have said. I have\nnever asked for anything. My usual regular life prevents me from even\nwishing for anything. I gave much thought to the question after the\nbest methods: _Cur, unde, quo, qua?_--From where, for where, by where,\nwhy? And this note was not an answer, for this was the first time in my\nlife I questioned anything. I thought: it must be a mistake; perhaps\nI can repair it. This sum was intended no doubt for some one of the\nsame name. So I looked in the Post Office Directory for a homonym, who\nwas perhaps expecting the letter. But my name cannot be common, as\nin looking through that enormous book I was the only one of that name\nindicated.\n\nI hoped to come to a better result by the writing on the envelope, and\nfind out who sent the letter, if not to whom it was sent. It was then\nthat I consulted the graphologists. But nothing--no nothing--they could\ntell me nothing; which only increased my distress. These \u00a320 troubled\nme more and more every day; I would like to get rid of them, but I\ndo not know what to do. For anyhow ... or if some one had given them\nto me, at least they deserve to be thanked. I should like to show my\ngratitude,--but to whom?\n\nAlways in the hope of something turning up, I carry the note with\nme. It does not leave me day or night. I am at its disposal. Before,\nI was banal but free. Now I belong to that note. This adventure has\ndecided me; I was nothing, now I am somebody. Since this adventure I\nam restless; I search for people to talk to, and if I come here for\nmy meals it is because of this system of tables for three; among the\npeople I meet here I hope one day to find the one who will know the\nwriting on the envelope, here it is....\n\nWith these words Damocles drew from his breast a sigh and from his\nfrock-coat a dirty yellow envelope. His full name was written there in\na very ordinary handwriting.\n\nThen a strange thing happened: Cocles, who up to that time had been\nsilent, kept silent,--but suddenly raised his hand and made a violent\neffort to strike Damocles, the waiter catching his hand just in time.\nCocles recovered himself and sadly made this speech, which can be only\nunderstood later on: After all, it is better so, for if I had succeeded\nin returning you the blow you would have believed it your duty to give\nme back the note and ... it does not belong to me.--Then, seeing that\nDamocles was waiting for a further explanation:--It was I, he added,\npointing to the envelope, who wrote your address.\n\n--But how did you know my name, cried Damocles, rather annoyed by the\nincident.\n\n--By chance--quietly said Cocles;--in any case that is of little\nimportance in this story. My story is even more curious than yours; let\nme tell you in a few words:\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF COCLES\n\nI have very few friends in the world; and before this happened I did\nnot know of one. I do not know who was my father and I never knew my\nmother; for a long time I wondered why I lived.\n\nI went out into the streets, searching for a determining influence from\noutside. I thought, the first thing that happens to me will decide my\ndestiny; for I did not make myself as I am, too naturally kind for\nthat. The first act, I knew, would give a motive to my life. Naturally\nkind, as I have said, my first act was to pick up a handkerchief. The\none who dropped it had only gone three steps. Running after him I\nreturned it to him. He took it without appearing surprised; no--the\nsurprise was mine when he handed me an envelope--the same one that you\nsee here.--Will you have the kindness, he said smilingly, to write here\nan address.--What address? I asked.--That, he replied, of any one you\nknow.--So saying he placed near me all the materials to write with.\nWishing to let myself go to exterior influence I submitted. But, as I\ntold you, I have few friends in the world. I wrote the first name that\ncame into my head at the moment, a name quite unknown to me. Having\nwritten the name I bowed--would have walked on--when I received a\ntremendous blow on my face.\n\nIn my astonishment I lost sight of my adversary. When I came to myself,\nI was surrounded by a crowd. All spoke at once. They would not let me\nalone. I could only rid myself of their attentions by assuring them\nthat I was not hurt at all, even though my jaw caused me terrible pain\nand my nose was bleeding furiously.\n\nThe tumefaction of my face confined me to my room for a week. I passed\nmy time thinking:\n\nWhy did he strike me?\n\nIt must have been a mistake. What could he have against me? I have\nnever hurt anybody; nobody could wish me ill.--There must be a reason\nfor ill-will.\n\nAnd if it was not a mistake?--for the first time I was thinking. If\nthat blow was intended for me! In any case, what does it matter! by\nmistake or not, I received it and ... shall I return it? I have told\nyou, I am naturally good-hearted. And then there is another thing which\nworries me: the man who struck me was much stronger than I.\n\nWhen my face was well and I could again go out, I looked everywhere for\nmy adversary; yes, but it was to avoid him. Anyway, I never saw him\nagain, and if I avoided him it was without knowing it.\n\nBut--and in saying this he leant towards Prometheus, you see to-day how\neverything joins up, it is becoming more complicated instead of less\nso: I understand that, thanks to my blow, this gentleman has received\n\u00a320.\n\n--Ah, but allow me! said Damocles.\n\n--I am Cocles, sir, said he, bowing to Damocles;--Cocles! and I tell\nyou my name, Damocles, for you must certainly be pleased to know to\nwhom you owe your windfall....\n\n--But....\n\n--Yes--I know: we will not say to whom; we will say: from the suffering\nof whom.... For understand and do not forget that your gain came from\nmy misfortune....\n\n--But....\n\n--Do not cavil, I beg you. Between your gain and my trouble there is a\nrelation; I do not quite know which, but there is a relation....\n\n--But, sir....\n\n--Do not call me sir.\n\n--But, my dear Cocles.\n\n--Say simply Cocles.\n\n--But once again, my best Cocles....\n\n--No, sir,--no, Damocles,--and it is no use your talking, for I still\nwear the mark of the blow on my cheek ... it is a wound that I will\nshow you at once.\n\nThe conversation becoming disagreeably personal, the waiter at this\nmoment showed his tact.\n\n\nIV\n\nBy a clever movement,--simply upsetting a full plate over\nPrometheus,--he suddenly diverted the attention of the other two.\nPrometheus could not restrain an exclamation, and his voice after the\nothers seemed so profound that one realized that up to this minute he\nhad not spoken.\n\nThe irritation of Damocles and Cocles joined forces.\n\n--But you say nothing--they cried.\n\n\nPROMETHEUS SPEAKS\n\n--Oh, gentlemen, anything that I can say has so little importance....\nI do not really see how ... and then the more I think.... No, truly\nI have nothing to say. You have each of you a history; I have none.\nExcuse me. Believe me it is with the greatest interest that I have\nheard you each relate an adventure which I wish ... I could.... But\nI cannot even express myself easily. No, truly you must excuse me,\ngentlemen. I have been in Paris less than two hours; nothing has as yet\nhappened to me, except my delightful meeting with you, which gives me\nsuch a good idea of what a conversation can be between two Parisians,\nwhen they are both men of talent....\n\n--But before you came here, said Cocles.\n\n--You must have been somewhere, added Damocles.\n\n--Yes, I admit it, said Prometheus.... But again, once more, it has\nabsolutely no connexion....\n\n--Never mind, said Cocles, we came here to talk. We have both of us,\nDamocles and I, already given our share; you alone bring nothing; you\nlisten; it is not fair. It is time to speak Mr....?\n\nThe waiter, feeling instinctively that the moment had come for the\nintroduction, quietly slipped in the name to complete the sentence:\n\n--Prometheus--he said simply.\n\n--Prometheus, repeated Damocles.--Excuse me, sir, but it seems to me\nthat that name already....\n\n--Oh! interrupted Prometheus quickly, that is not of the slightest\nimportance.\n\n--But if there is nothing of importance, impatiently cried the other\ntwo, why have you come here, dear Mr.... Mr....?\n\n--Prometheus, replied Prometheus simply.\n\n--Dear Mr. Prometheus--as I remarked a while ago, continued Cocles,\nthis restaurant invites conversation, and nothing will convince me that\nyour strange name is the only thing that distinguishes you; if you\nhave done nothing, you are surely going to do something. What are you\ncapable of doing? What is the most distinguishing thing about you?\nWhat have you that nobody else possesses? Why do you call yourself\nPrometheus?\n\nDrowned beneath this flow of questions Prometheus bent his head and\nslowly and in a serious voice stammered...:\n\n--What have I, gentlemen?--What have I?--Oh, I have an eagle.\n\n--A what?\n\n--Eagle--Vulture perhaps--opinions differ.\n\n--An eagle! That\u2019s funny!--an eagle ... where is he?\n\n--You insist on seeing it, said Prometheus.\n\n--Yes, they cried, if it is not too indiscreet.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen Prometheus, quite forgetting where he was, suddenly started up\nand gave a great cry, a call to his eagle. And this stupefying thing\nhappened:\n\n\nHISTORY OF THE EAGLE\n\nA bird which from afar looked enormous, but which seen close to was\nnot so very big after all, darkened for a moment the sky above the\nboulevard and sped like a whirlwind towards the caf\u00e9; bursting through\nthe window, it put out Cocles\u2019 eye with one stroke of its wing and\nthen, chirruping as it did so, tenderly indeed but imperiously, fell\nwith a swoop upon Prometheus\u2019 right side.\n\nAnd Prometheus forthwith undid his waistcoat and offered his liver to\nthe bird.\n\n\nV\n\nThere was a great disturbance. Voices now mingled confusedly, for some\nother people had come into the restaurant.\n\n--But for goodness\u2019 sake, take care! cried Cocles.\n\nHis remark was unheard beneath the loud cries of:\n\n--That! an eagle! I don\u2019t think!! Look at that poor gaunt bird! That\n... an eagle!--Not much!! at the most, a conscience.\n\nThe fact is that the great eagle was pitiful to see--thin and mangy,\nand with drooping wings as it greedily devoured its miserable pittance,\nthe poor bird seemed as if it had not eaten for three days.\n\nOthers, nevertheless, made a fuss and whispered insinuatingly to\nPrometheus: But, sir, I hope you do not think that this eagle\ndistinguishes you in any way. An eagle, shall I tell you?--an eagle, we\nall have one.\n\n--But ... said another.\n\n--But we do not bring them to Paris, continued another.--In Paris it\nis not the fashion. Eagles are a nuisance. You see what it has already\ndone. If it amuses you to let it eat your liver you are at liberty to\ndo so; but I must tell you that it is a painful sight. When you do it\nyou should hide yourself.\n\nPrometheus, confused, murmured: Excuse me, gentlemen,--Oh! I am really\nsorry. What can I do?\n\n--You ought to get rid of it before you come in, sir.\n\nAnd some said: Smother it.\n\nAnd others: Sell it. The newspaper offices are there for nothing else,\nsir.\n\nAnd in the tumult which followed no one noticed Damocles, who suddenly\nasked the waiter for the bill.\n\nThe waiter gave him the following:\n\n  _3 lunches (with conversation)_          Fr. 30.00\n  _Shop window_                               450.00\n  _A glass eye for Cocles_                      3.50\n\n... and keep the rest for yourself, said Damocles, handing the\nbank-note to the waiter. Then he quickly made off, beaming with joy.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe end of this chapter is much less interesting. Little by little\nthe restaurant became empty. In vain Prometheus and Cocles insisted\non paying their share of the bill--Damocles had already paid it.\nPrometheus said good-bye to the waiter and Cocles, and going back\nslowly to the Caucasus he thought: Sell it?--Smother it?... Tame it\nperhaps?...\n\n\n\n\nTHE IMPRISONMENT OF PROMETHEUS\n\n\nI\n\nIt was a few days after this that Prometheus, denounced by the\nover-zealous waiter, found himself in prison for making matches without\na licence.\n\nThe prison was isolated from the rest of the world, and its only\noutlook was on to the sky. From the outside it had the appearance of a\ntower. In the inside Prometheus was consumed by boredom.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe waiter paid him a visit.\n\n--Oh! said Prometheus smiling, I am so happy to see you! I was bored\nto death. Tell me, you who come from outside; the wall of this dungeon\nseparates me from everything and I know nothing about other people.\nWhat is happening?--And you, first tell me what you are doing.\n\n--Since your scandal, replied the waiter nothing much; hardly anybody\nhas been to the restaurant. We have lost a great deal of time in\nrepairing the window.\n\n--I am greatly distressed, said Prometheus;--but Damocles? Have you\nseen Damocles? He left the restaurant so quickly the other day; I was\nnot able to say good-bye. I am so sorry. He seemed a very quiet person,\nwell-mannered, and full of scruples; I was touched when he told me so\nnaturally of his trouble.--I hope when he left the table he was happier?\n\n--That did not last, said the waiter. I saw him the next day more\nuneasy than ever. In talking to me he cried. His greatest anxiety was\nthe health of Cocles.\n\n--Is he unwell? asked Prometheus.\n\n--Cocles?--Oh no, replied the waiter. I will say more: He sees better\nsince he sees with only one eye. He shows every one his glass eye, and\nis delighted when he is condoled with. When you see him, tell him that\nhis new eye looks well, and that he wears it gracefully; but add how\nhe must have suffered....\n\n--He suffers then?\n\n--Yes, perhaps, when people do not sympathize with him.\n\n--But then, if Cocles is well and does not suffer, why is Damocles\nanxious?\n\n--Because of that which Cocles should have suffered.\n\n--You advise me then strongly....\n\n--To say it, yes, but Damocles thinks it, and that\u2019s what kills him.\n\n--What else does he do?\n\n--Nothing. This unique occupation wears him out. Between us, he is\na man obsessed.--He says that without those \u00a320 Cocles would not be\nmiserable.\n\n--And Cocles?\n\n--He says the same.... But he has become rich.\n\n--Really ... how?\n\n--Oh! I do not know exactly;--but he has been talked about in the\npapers; and a subscription has been opened in his favour.\n\n--And what does he do with it?\n\n--He is an artful fellow. With the money collected he thinks of\nfounding a hospital.\n\n--A hospital?\n\n--Yes, a small hospital for the one eyed. He has made himself director\nof it.\n\n--Ah bah! cried Prometheus; you interest me enormously.\n\n--I hoped you would be interested, said the waiter.\n\n--And tell me ... the Miglionaire?\n\n--Oh! he, he is a wonderful chap!--If you imagine that all that upsets\nhim! He is like me: he observes.... If it would amuse you, I will\nintroduce you to him--when you come out of this....\n\n--Well, by the way, why am I here? Prometheus said at last. What am I\naccused of? Do you know, waiter, you seem to know everything?\n\n--My goodness no, pretended the waiter. All that I know is that it is\nonly preliminary detention. After they have condemned you, you will\nknow.\n\n--Well, so much the better! said Prometheus. I always prefer to know.\n\n--Good-bye, said the waiter; it is late. With you it is astonishing how\nthe time flies.... But tell me: your eagle? What has become of him?\n\n--Bless me! I have thought no more of him, said Prometheus. But when\nthe waiter had gone Prometheus began to think of his eagle.\n\n\nHE MUST INCREASE BUT I MUST DECREASE\n\nAnd as Prometheus was bored in the evening, he called his eagle.--The\neagle came.\n\n--I have waited a long time for thee, said Prometheus.\n\nWhy didst thou not call me before? replied the eagle.\n\nFor the first time Prometheus looked at his eagle, casually perched\nupon the twisted bars of the dungeon. In the golden light of the sunset\nhe appeared more spiritless than ever; he was grey, ugly, stunted,\nsurly, resigned, and miserable; he seemed too feeble to fly, seeing\nwhich Prometheus cried with pity.\n\n--Faithful bird, he said to him, dost thou suffer?--tell me: what is\nthe matter?\n\n--I am hungry, said the eagle.\n\n--Eat, said Prometheus, uncovering his liver.\n\nThe bird ate.\n\n--I suffer, said Prometheus.\n\nBut the eagle said nothing more that day.\n\n\nII\n\nThe next day at sunrise Prometheus longed for his eagle; he called\nit from the depth of the reddening dawn, and as the sun rose the\neagle appeared. He had three more feathers and Prometheus sobbed with\ntenderness.\n\n--How late thou comest, he said, caressing his feathers.\n\n--It is because I cannot yet fly very fast, said the bird. I skim the\nground....\n\n--Why?\n\n--I am so weak!\n\n--What dost thou want to make thee fly faster?\n\n--Thy liver.\n\n--Very well, eat.\n\nThe next day the eagle had eight more feathers and a few days after he\narrived before the dawn. Prometheus himself became very thin.\n\n--Tell me of the world, he said to the eagle. What has happened to all\nthe others?\n\n--Oh! now I fly very high, replied the eagle; I see nothing but the sky\nand thee.\n\nHis wings had grown slowly bigger.\n\n--Lovely bird, what hast thou to tell me this morning?\n\n--I have carried my hunger through the air.\n\n--Eagle, wilt thou never be less cruel?\n\n--No! But I may become very beautiful.\n\nPrometheus, enamoured of the future beauty of his eagle, gave him each\nday more to eat.\n\nOne evening the eagle did not leave him.\n\nThe next day it was the same.\n\nHe fascinated the prisoner by his gnawings; and, the prisoner, who\nfascinated him by his caresses, languished and pined away for love, all\nday caressing his feathers, sleeping at night beneath his wings, and\nfeeding him as he desired.--The eagle did not stir night or day.\n\n--Sweet eagle, who would have believed it?\n\n--Believed what?\n\n--That our love could be so charming.\n\n--Ah! Prometheus....\n\n--Tell me, my sweet bird! Why am I shut up here?\n\n--What does that matter to thee? Am I not with thee?\n\n--Yes; it matters little! but art thou pleased with me, beautiful eagle?\n\n--Yes, if thou thinkest I am beautiful.\n\n\nIII\n\nIt was spring-time; around the bars of the tower the fragrant wisteria\nwas in flower.\n\n--One day we will go away, said the eagle.\n\n--Really? cried Prometheus.\n\n--Because I am now very strong and thou art thinner. I can carry thee.\n\n--Eagle, my eagle!... Take me away.\n\nAnd the eagle carried him away.\n\n\nA CHAPTER WHILE WAITING THE NEXT ONE\n\nThat evening Cocles and Damocles met each other. They chatted together;\nbut with a certain embarrassment.\n\n--What can you expect? said Cocles, our points of view are so opposed.\n\n--Do you think so? replied Damocles. My only desire is that we\nunderstand each other.\n\n--You say that, but you only understand yourself.\n\n--And you, you do not even listen to what I say.\n\n--I know all that you would say.\n\n--Say it then if you know it.\n\n--You pretend to know it better than I do.\n\n--Alas! Cocles, you get cross;--but for the love of God tell me what\nought I to do?\n\n--Ah! nothing more for me, I beg you; you have already given me a glass\neye....\n\n--Glass, in lack of a better, my Cocles.\n\n--Yes--after having half blinded me.\n\n--But it was not I, dear Cocles.\n\n--It was more or less; and in any case you can pay for the eye--thanks\nto my blow.\n\n--Cocles! forget the past!...\n\n--No doubt it pleases you to forget.\n\n--That\u2019s not what I mean to say to you.\n\n--But what do you mean to say then? Go on, speak!\n\n--You do not listen to me.\n\n--Because I know all that you would say!...\n\nThe discussion, for want of something new began to take a dangerous\nturn, when both men were suddenly arrested by an advertisement which\nran as follows:\n\n  THIS EVENING AT 8 O\u2019CLOCK\n  IN THE\n  HALL OF THE NEW MOONS\n  PROMETHEUS DELIVERED\n  WILL SPEAK OF\n  HIS\n  EAGLE\n\n  _At 8.30 the Eagle will be presented and will perform some tricks.\n  At 9 o\u2019clock a collection will be made by the waiter on behalf of\n  Cocles\u2019 hospital._\n\n--I must see that, said Cocles.\n\n--I will go with you, said Damocles.\n\n\nIV\n\nIn the Hall of the New Moons, at eight o\u2019clock precisely, the crowd\ngathered.\n\nCocles sat on the left; Damocles on the right; and the rest of the\npublic in the middle.\n\nA thunder of applause greeted the entry of Prometheus; he mounted the\nsteps of the platform, placed his eagle at the side of him, and pulled\nhimself together.\n\nIn the hall there was a palpitating silence....\n\n\nTHE PETITIO PRINCIPII\n\n--Gentlemen, began Prometheus, I do not pretend, alas! to interest you\nby what I am about to say, so I was careful to bring this eagle with\nme. After each tiresome part of my lecture he will play some tricks.\nI have also with me some indecent photographs and some fireworks,\nwith which when I reach the most serious moments of my lecture I will\ntry to distract the attention of the public. Thus, I dare to hope,\ngentlemen, for some attention. At each new head of my discourse I shall\nhave the honour, gentlemen, to ask you to watch the eagle eating his\ndinner,--for, gentlemen, my discourse has three heads; I did not think\nit proper to reject this form, which is agreeable to my classical\nmind.--This being the exordium, I will tell you at once and without\nmore ado, the first two heads of the discourse:\n\nFirst head: One must have an eagle.\n\nSecond head: In any case, we all have one.\n\nFearing that you will accuse me of prejudice, gentlemen; fearing also\nto interfere with my liberty of thought, I have prepared my lecture\nonly up to that point; the third head will naturally unfold from the\nother two. I will let inspiration have all its own way.--As conclusion,\nthe eagle, gentlemen, will make the collection.\n\n--Bravo! Bravo! cried Cocles.\n\nPrometheus drank a little water. The eagle pirouetted three times round\nPrometheus and then bowed. Prometheus looked round the hall, smiled at\nDamocles and at Cocles, and as no sign of restlessness was as yet shown\nhe kept the fireworks for later on, and continued:\n\n\nV\n\n--However clever a rhetorician I may be gentlemen, in the presence of\nsuch perspicacious minds as yours I cannot juggle away the inevitable\n_petitio principii_ which awaits me at the beginning of this lecture.\n\nGentlemen, try as we may, we cannot escape the _petitio principii_.\nNow; what is a petition of principles? Gentlemen, I dare to say it:\nEvery _petitio principii_ is an affirmation of temperament; for where\nprinciples are missing, there the temperament is affirmed.\n\nWhen I declare: You must have an eagle you may all exclaim: Why?--Now,\nwhat answer can I make in reply that will not bring us back to that\nformula, which is the affirmation of my temperament: I do not love men:\nI love that which devours them. Temperament, gentlemen, is that which\nmust affirm itself. A fresh _petitio principii_, you will say. But I\nhave demonstrated that every _petitio principii_ is an affirmation of\ntemperament; and as I say one must affirm one\u2019s temperament (for it\nis important), I repeat: I do not love men: I love that which devours\nthem.--Now what devours man?--His eagle. Therefore, gentlemen, one must\nhave an eagle. I think I have fully demonstrated this.\n\n... Alas! I see, gentlemen, that I bore you; some of you are yawning. I\ncould, it is true, here make a few jokes; but you would feel them out\nof place; I have an irredeemably serious mind.\n\nI prefer to circulate among you some indecent photographs; they will\nkeep those quiet who are feeling bored, which will enable me to go on.\n\nPrometheus drank a drop of water. The eagle pirouetted three times\nround Prometheus and bowed. Prometheus went on:\n\n\nCONTINUATION OF PROMETHEUS\u2019 LECTURE\n\n--Gentlemen, I have not always known my eagle. That is what makes me\ndeduce, by a process of reasoning which the logic books I never studied\ntill a week ago, call by some particular name I have forgotten--that is\nwhat makes me deduce, I say, that, even though the only eagle here is\nmine, you all, gentlemen, have an eagle.\n\nI have said nothing, up to the present, of my own history; firstly\nbecause, up to the present, I have not understood it. And if I decide\nto speak of it now it is because, thanks to my eagle, it now appears to\nme marvellous.\n\n\nVI\n\n--Gentlemen, as I have already said, my eagle was not always with\nme. Before his time I was unconscious and beautiful, happy and naked\nand unaware. Oh! Charming days! On the many-fountained sides of the\nCaucasus, lascivious Asia, naked too and unaware, held me in her arms.\n\nTogether we sported, tumbling in the valleys; the air sang, the water\nlaughed, the simplest flowers were fragrant for our delight. And often\nwe lay beneath spreading branches, among flowers which were the haunt\nof murmuring bees.\n\nAsia wedded me, all laughter and then the murmuring swarms and the\nrustling leaves, with which was mingled the music of the streams,\ngently lulled us to the sweetest of slumbers. Around us all\nconsented--all protected our inhuman solitude.--Suddenly one day Asia\nsaid to me: You should interest yourself in men.\n\nI first had to find them.\n\nI was willing enough to interest myself in them--but it was to pity\nthem.\n\nThey lived in such darkness; I invented for them certain kinds of fire,\nand from that moment my eagle began. And it is since that day that I\nhave become aware that I am naked.\n\nAt these words, applause arose from various parts of the hall. All of a\nsudden Prometheus broke into sobs.\n\nThe eagle flapped his wings and cooed.\n\nWith an agonizing gesture Prometheus opened his waistcoat and offered\nhis tortured liver to the bird.\n\nThe applause redoubled.\n\nThen the eagle pirouetted three times round Prometheus, who drank a few\ndrops of water, and continued his lecture in these words:\n\n\nVII\n\n--Gentlemen, my modesty overcame me. Excuse me, it is the first\ntime I speak in public. But now it is my sincerity which overcomes\nme. Gentlemen, I have been more interested in men than I have ever\nadmitted. Gentlemen, I have done a great deal for men. Gentlemen, I\nhave passionately, wildly, and deplorably loved men--and I have done so\nmuch for them--one can almost say that I have made them; for before,\nwhat were they? They existed, but had no consciousness of existence;\nI made this consciousness like a fire to enlighten them, gentlemen; I\nmade it with all the love I bore them.--The first consciousness they\nhad was that of their beauty. It is this which caused the propagation\nof the race. Men were prolonged in their posterity. The beauty of\nthe first was repeated, equally, indifferently, uneventfully. It\ncould have lasted a long time.--Then I grew anxious, for I carried\nin me already, without knowing it, my eagle\u2019s egg and I wanted more\nor better. This propagation, this piecemeal prolongation, seemed to\nme to indicate in them an expectancy--when in reality only my eagle\nwas waiting. I did not know; that expectancy I thought was in man;\nthat expectancy I put in man. Besides, having made man in my image,\nI now understood that in every man there was something hatching; in\neach one was the eagle\u2019s egg.... And then, I do not know; I cannot\nexplain this.--All that I know is that, not satisfied with giving them\nconsciousness of existence, I also wished to give them a reason for\nexistence. So I gave them Fire, flame and all the arts which a flame\nnourishes. By warming their minds, I brought forth the devouring faith\nin progress. And I was strangely happy when their health was consumed\nin producing it. No more belief in good, but the morbid hope for\nbetter. The belief in progress, gentlemen, that was their eagle. Our\neagle is our reason for existence, gentlemen.\n\nMan\u2019s happiness grew less and less--but that was nothing to me: the\neagle was born, gentlemen! I loved men no more, I loved what fed on\nthem. I had had enough of a humanity without history.... The history of\nman is the history of their eagles, gentlemen.\n\n\nVIII\n\nApplause broke out here and there. Prometheus, abashed, excused himself:\n\n--Gentlemen, I was lying: pardon me: it did not happen quite so\nquickly: No, I have not always loved eagles: For a long time I\npreferred men; their injured happiness was dear to me, because once\nhaving interfered I believed myself responsible, and in the evening\nevery time I thought of it, my eagle, sad as remorse, came to eat.\n\nHe was at this time gaunt and grey, careworn and morose, and he was\nas ugly as a vulture.--Gentlemen, look at him now and understand why\nI tell you this; why I asked you to come here; why I entreat you to\nlisten to me. It is because I have discovered this: the eagle can\nbecome very beautiful. Now, every one of us has an eagle; as I have\njust most earnestly asserted. An eagle?--Alas, a vulture perhaps! no,\nno, not a vulture, gentlemen!--Gentlemen, you must have an eagle....\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now I touch the most serious question:--Why an eagle?... Ah!\nWhy?--let him say why. Here is mine, gentlemen; I bring him to you....\nEagle! Will you reply now? Anxiously Prometheus turned towards his\neagle. The eagle was motionless and remained silent.... Prometheus\ncontinued in a distressed voice:\n\n--Gentlemen, gentlemen, I have vainly questioned my eagle.... Eagle!\nspeak now: every one listens to you.... Who sends you? Why have you\nchosen me? Where do you come from? Where do you go to? Speak: What is\nyour nature? (The eagle remained silent.) No, nothing! Not a word!\nNot a cry!--I hoped he would speak to you at any rate; that is why I\nbrought him with me.... Must I speak alone here?--All is silence!--All\nis silence!\n\nWhat does it mean?... I have questioned in vain. Then turning towards\nthe audience:\n\nOh! I hoped, gentlemen, that you would love my eagle, that your love\nwould affirm his beauty.--That is why I gave myself up to him, that is\nwhy I filled him with the blood of my soul.... But I see I am alone\nin admiring him. Is it not enough for you that he is beautiful? Or do\nyou not admit his beauty? Look at him at least. I have lived only for\nhim--and now I bring him to you: There he is! As for me I live for\nhim--but he ... but he, why does he live?\n\nEagle that I have nourished with the blood of my soul, whom with\nall my love I have caressed ... (here Prometheus was interrupted by\nsobs)--must I then leave the earth without knowing why I loved you, nor\nwhat you will do, nor what you will be, after me on the earth ... on\nthe earth? I have ... asked in vain ... in vain....\n\nThe words choked in his throat--his voice could not be heard through\nhis tears.--Pardon me, gentlemen,--he continued a little calmer; pardon\nme for saying such serious things, but if I knew more serious ones I\nwould say them....\n\nPerspiring, Prometheus wiped his face, drank some water, and added:\n\n\nTHE END OF PROMETHEUS\u2019 LECTURE\n\n--I have only prepared my lecture up to this point....\n\n... At these words there was a rustling among the audience; several,\nfeeling bored, wished to go out.\n\n--Gentlemen, cried Prometheus, I beseech you to stay, it will not be\nvery long now; but the most important thing of all remains to be said,\nif I have not already persuaded you.... Gentlemen!--for goodness\u2019\nsake.... Here! quickly: a few fireworks; I will keep the best for the\nend.... Gentlemen!--sit down again, I pray you; look: do not think I\nwant to economize: I light six at a time.--But first, waiter, shut the\ndoors.\n\nThe fireworks were more or less effective. Nearly every one sat down\nagain.\n\n--But where was I? cried Prometheus. I counted upon getting under\nweigh; disturbance has checked me.\n\n--So much the better, cried some one.\n\n--Ah! I know ... continued Prometheus. I wished to tell you again....\n\n--Enough! enough!! cried voices from all parts of the hall.\n\n... That you must love your eagle.\n\nSeveral cried \u201cWhy?\u201d ironically.\n\n--I hear, gentlemen, some one asks me \u201cWhy?\u201d I reply: Because then he\nwill become beautiful.\n\n--But if we become ugly?\n\n--Gentlemen, I do not speak here words of self-interest....\n\n--One can see that.\n\n--They are words of self-devotion. Gentlemen, one must devote oneself\nto one\u2019s eagle.... (Agitation--many get up.) Gentlemen, do not\nmove: I will be personal. It is not necessary to remind you of the\nhistory of Cocles and Damocles.--All here know it. Well--Well! I\nwill tell them to their faces: the secret of their lives is in their\nself-devotion to their debt: You, Cocles, to your blow; you, Damocles,\nto your bank-note. Cocles, your duty was to make your scar deeper\nand your empty orbit emptier, oh! Cocles! yours, Damocles, to keep\nyour bank-note, to continue owing it, owing it without shame, owing\neven more, owing it with joy. There is your eagle; there are other\nand more glorious ones. But I tell you this: the eagle will devour us\nanyway--vice or virtue--duty or passion,--cease to be commonplace and\nyou cannot escape it. But....\n\n(Here the voice of Prometheus was barely heard in the tumult)--but if\nyou do not feed your eagle lovingly he will remain grey and miserable,\ninvisible to all and sly; then you will call him conscience, not worthy\nof the torments he causes; without beauty.--Gentlemen, you must love\nyour eagle, love him to make him beautiful; for it is for his future\nbeauty that you must love your eagle....\n\nNow I have finished, gentlemen, my eagle will make the collection.\nGentlemen, you must love my eagle.--In the meantime I will let off some\nfireworks....\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThanks to the pyrotechnic diversion, the assembly dispersed without too\nmuch trouble; but Damocles took cold on coming out of the hall.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ILLNESS OF DAMOCLES\n\n\nI\n\n--You know that he is not at all well, said the waiter, seeing\nPrometheus a few days later.\n\n--Who?\n\n--Damocles--Oh! very bad:--it was coming out after your lecture that he\nwas taken ill....\n\n--But what is the matter?\n\n--The doctors hesitate;--it is a very unusual illness ... a shrinkage\nof the spine....\n\n--The spine?\n\n--Yes, the spine.--At least, unless a miracle happens he must get\nworse. He is very low, I assure you, and you should go and see him.\n\n--You go very often yourself?\n\n--I? Yes, every day.--He is very anxious about Cocles; I bring him news\nevery day.\n\n--Why doesn\u2019t Cocles go to see him himself?\n\n--Cocles?--He is too busy. Don\u2019t you remember your lecture? It has\nmade an extraordinary effect upon him. He talks of nothing but\nself-devotion, and passes all his time looking in the streets for\nanother blow, which may benefit some unknown Damocles. In vain he\noffers his other cheek.\n\n--Why not tell the Miglionaire?\n\n--I give him news every day. That is really the reason why I visit\nDamocles every day.\n\n--Why does he not go and see Damocles himself?\n\n--That is what I tell him, but he refuses. He does not wish to be\nknown. And yet Damocles would certainly get well immediately if he knew\nhis benefactor. I tell him all this, but he insists upon keeping his\nincognito--and I understand now that it is not Damocles but his illness\nwhich interests him.\n\n--You spoke of introducing me?...\n\n--Yes, at once, if you like.\n\nThey went off immediately.\n\n\nII\n\nNot knowing him ourselves, we have decided not to say very much about\nthe waiter\u2019s friend, Zeus, but just to report these few remarks.\n\n\nINTERVIEW OF THE MIGLIONAIRE\n\nThe waiter:--Is it not true that you are very rich?\n\nThe Miglionaire, half turning towards Prometheus:--I am richer than\nyou can ever imagine. You belong to me; he belongs to me; everything\nbelongs to me.--You think I am a banker; I am really something quite\ndifferent. My effect on Paris is hidden, but it is none the less\nimportant. It is hidden because it is not continuous. Yes, I have\nabove all the spirit of initiative. I launch; then, once the affair is\nset going, I leave it; I have nothing more to do with it.\n\nThe waiter:--Isn\u2019t it true that your actions are gratuitous?\n\nThe Miglionaire:--It is only I, only a person whose fortune is\ninfinite, who can act with absolute disinterestedness; for man it is\nimpossible. From that comes my love of gambling; I do not gamble for\ngain, you understand--I gamble for the pleasure of gambling. What could\nI gain that I do not possess already? Even time.... Do you know my age?\n\nPrometheus and the waiter:--You appear still young, sir.\n\nThe Miglionaire:--Well, do not interrupt me, Prometheus.--Yes, I have a\npassion for gambling. My game is to lend to men. I lend, but it is not\nfor pleasure. I lend, but it is sinking the capital. I lend, but with\nan air of giving.--I do not wish it known that I lend. I play, but I\nhide my game. I experiment; I play, as a Dutchman sows his seed; as he\nplants a secret bulb; that which I lend to men, that which I plant in\nman, I amuse myself by watching it grow; without that, man would be so\nempty!--Let me tell you my most recent experience. You will help me to\nanalyse it. Just listen, you will understand later.\n\nI went down into the street with the idea of making some one suffer for\na gift I would make to another; to make one happy by the suffering of\nthe other. A blow and a note of \u00a320 was all that was necessary. To one\nthe blow, and to the other the note. Is it clear? What is less clear is\nthe way of giving them.\n\n--I know it already, interrupted Prometheus.\n\n--Oh, really, you know of it, said Zeus.\n\n--I have met both Damocles and Cocles; it is precisely about them that\nI have come to speak to you:--Damocles looks and calls for you, he is\nvery anxious; he is ill;--for goodness\u2019 sake go and see him.\n\n--Sir, stop--said Zeus--I have no need of advice from anybody.\n\n--What did I tell you? said the waiter.\n\nPrometheus was going away, but suddenly turned again: Sir, pardon me.\nExcuse an indiscreet question. Oh! show it to me, I beg you! I should\nlove so much to see it....\n\n--What?\n\n--Your eagle.\n\n--But I have no eagle, sir.\n\n--No eagle? He has no eagle! But....\n\n--Not so much of one as I can hold in the hollow of my hand. Eagles\n(and he laughed), eagles! It is I who give them.\n\nPrometheus was stupefied.\n\n--Do you know what people say? the waiter asked the banker.\n\n--What do they say?\n\n--That you are God.\n\n--I let them say so, said he.\n\n\nIII\n\nPrometheus went to see Damocles; and then he went very often. He did\nnot talk to him every time; but in any case the waiter gave him the\nnews. One day he brought Cocles with him.\n\nThe waiter received them.\n\n--Well, how is he? asked Prometheus.\n\n--Bad. Very bad, replied the waiter. For three days the miserable man\nhas not been able to take any food. His bank-note torments him; he\nlooks for it everywhere; he thinks he may have eaten it;--he takes a\npurgative and thinks to find it in his stool. When his reason returns\nand he remembers his adventure, he is again in despair. He has a grudge\nagainst you, Cocles, because he thinks you have so complicated his debt\nthat he no longer knows where he is. Most of the time he is delirious.\nAt night there are three of us to watch him, but he keeps leaping upon\nhis bed, which prevents us sleeping.\n\n--Can we see him? said Cocles.\n\n--Yes, but you will find him changed. He is devoured by anxiety. He has\nbecome thin, thin, thin. Will you recognize him?--And will he recognize\nyou?\n\nThey entered on the tips of their toes.\n\n\nTHE LAST DAYS OF DAMOCLES\n\nDamocles\u2019 bedroom smelt horribly of medicines. Low and very narrow, it\nwas lighted gloomily by two night-lights. In an alcove, covered with\ninnumerable blankets, one could see Damocles tossing about. He spoke\nall the time, although there was no one near him. His voice was hoarse\nand thick. Full of horror Prometheus and Cocles looked at each other;\nhe did not hear them approach and continued his moaning as if he were\nalone.\n\n--And from that day, he was saying, it seemed to me, both that my life\nbegan to have another meaning and that I could no longer live! That\nhated bank-note I believed I owed it to every one and I dared not give\nit to any one--without depriving all the others. I only dreamed of\ngetting rid of it--but how?--The Savings Bank! but this increased my\ntrouble; my debt was augmented by the interest on the money; and, on\nthe other hand, the idea of letting it stagnate was intolerable to me;\nso I thought it best to circulate the sum; I carried it always upon\nme; regularly every week I changed the note into silver, and then the\nsilver into another note. Nothing is lost or gained in this exchange.\nIt is circular insanity.--And to this was added another torture: that\nit was through a blow given to another that I received this note!\n\nOne day, you know well, I met you in a restaurant....\n\n--He is speaking of you, said the waiter.\n\n--The eagle of Prometheus broke the window of the restaurant\nand put out Cocles\u2019 eye.... Saved!!--Gratuitously, fortuitously,\nprovidentially! I will slip my bank-note into the interstices of these\nevents. No more debt! Saved! Ah! gentlemen! what an error.... It was\nfrom that day that I became a dying man. How can I explain this to you?\nWill you ever understand my anguish? I am still in debt for this note,\nand now it is no longer in my possession! I tried like a coward to get\nrid of my debt, but I have not acquitted it. In my nightmares I awake\ncovered with perspiration. Kneeling down, I cry aloud: Lord! Lord! to\nwhom do I owe this? I know nothing of it, but I owe--owing is like\nduty. Duty, gentlemen, is a horrible thing; look at me, I am dying of\nit.\n\nAnd now I am more tormented than ever because I have passed this debt\non to you, Cocles.... Cocles! it does not belong to you that eye, as\nthe money it was bought with did not belong to me. And what hast thou\nthat thou didst not receive? says the Bible ... received from whom?\nwhom?? Whom??... My distress is intolerable.\n\nThe wretched man spoke in short, sharp jerks; his voice grew\ninarticulate, choked as it was by gasps, sobs and tears. Anxiously\nPrometheus and Cocles listened; they took each other\u2019s hand and\ntrembled. Damocles said, seeming to see them:\n\nDebt is a terrible duty, gentlemen ... but how much more terrible is\nthe remorse of having wished to evade a duty.... As if the debt could\ncease to exist because it was transferred to another.... But your eye\nburns you, Cocles!--Cocles!! I am certain it burns you, your glass\neye; tear it out!--If it does not burn you, it ought to burn you, for\nit is not yours--your eye ... and if it is not yours it must be your\nbrother\u2019s ... whose is it? whose? Whose??\n\nThe miserable man wept; he became delirious and lost strength; now and\nagain fixing his eyes on Prometheus and Cocles he seemed to recognize\nthem, crying:\n\n--But understand me for pity\u2019s sake! The pity I claim from you is not\nsimply a compress on my forehead, a bowl of fresh water, a soothing\ndrink; it is to understand me. Help me to understand myself, for pity\u2019s\nsake! _This_ which has come to me from I know not where, to whom do\nI owe it? to whom?? to Whom??--And, in order to cease one day from\nowing it one day, believing, I made with _this_ a present to others!\nTo others!!--to Cocles--the gift of an eye!! but it is not yours, that\neye, Cocles! Cocles!! give it back. Give it back, but to whom? to whom?\nto Whom??\n\nNot wishing to hear more, Cocles and Prometheus went away.\n\n\nIV\n\n--There, you see, said Cocles, coming down the stairs, the fate of a\nman who has grown rich by another\u2019s suffering.\n\n--But is it true that you suffer? asked Prometheus.\n\n--From my eye occasionally, said Cocles, but from the blow, no more; I\nprefer to have received it. It does not burn any more; it has revealed\nto me my goodness. I am flattered by it; I am pleased about it. I never\ncease to think that my pain was useful to my neighbour and that it\nbrought him \u00a320.\n\n--But the neighbour is dying of it, Cocles, said Prometheus.\n\n--Did you not tell him that one must nourish one\u2019s eagle? What do you\nexpect? Damocles and I never could understand each other, our points of\nview are entirely opposed.\n\nPrometheus said good-bye to Cocles and ran to the house of Zeus, the\nbanker.\n\n--For goodness\u2019 sake, show yourself! he said, or at least make yourself\nknown. The miserable man is dying. I could understand your killing him\nsince that is your pleasure; but let him know at least who it is that\nis killing him--that he may be at peace.\n\nThe Miglionaire replied:--I do not wish to lose my prestige.\n\n\nV\n\nThe end of Damocles was admirable; he pronounced a little while before\nhis last hour some words which drew tears from the most unbelieving and\nmade pious people say: How edifying! The most notable sentiment was the\none expressed so well in these words: I hope at any rate that he will\nnot have felt the loss of it.\n\n--Who? asked some one.\n\n--He, said Damocles, dying; he who gave me ... something.\n\n--No! it was Providence, cleverly replied the waiter.\n\nDamocles died after hearing these comforting words.\n\n\nTHE FUNERAL\n\n--Oh! said Prometheus to Cocles, leaving the chamber of death,--all\nthat is horrible! The death of Damocles upsets me. Is it true that my\nlecture can have been the cause of his illness?\n\n--I cannot say, said the waiter, but I know that at any rate he was\ngreatly moved by all that you said of your eagle.\n\n--Of our eagle, replied Cocles.\n\n--I was so convinced, said Prometheus.\n\n--That is why you convinced him.... Your words were very strong.\n\n--I thought that no one paid any attention and I insisted.... If I had\nknown that he would listen so attentively....\n\n--What would you have said?\n\n--The same thing, stammered Prometheus.\n\n--Then?\n\n--But I would not say the same thing now.\n\n--Are you no longer convinced?\n\n--Damocles was too much so.... I have other ideas about my eagle.\n\n--By the way, where is he?\n\n--Do not fear, Cocles. I have my eye on him.\n\n--Good-bye. I shall wear mourning, said Cocles. When shall we see each\nother again?\n\n--But ... at the funeral, I suppose. I will make a speech there. I\nought to repair in some way the damage I have done. And afterwards I\ninvite you to the funeral feast in the restaurant exactly where we saw\nDamocles for the first time.\n\n\nVI\n\nAt the funeral there were not many people; Damocles was very little\nknown; his death passed unnoticed except for those few interested in\nhis history. Prometheus, the waiter, and Cocles found themselves at the\ncemetery, also a few idle listeners of the lecture. Every one looked at\nPrometheus, as they knew he was to speak; and they said: \u201cWhat will he\nsay?\u201d for they remembered what he had said before. Before Prometheus\nbegan to speak great astonishment was caused by the fact that he was\nunrecognizable; he was fat, fresh, smiling; smiling so much that his\nconduct was judged a little indecent, as smiling still he advanced to\nthe edge of the grave, turned his back on it, and spoke these simple\nwords:\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF TITYRUS\n\n--Gentlemen who are kind enough to listen to me, the words of Scripture\nwhich serve as text for my brief discourse to-day are these:\n\n_Let the dead bury their dead._ We will therefore occupy ourselves no\nmore with Damocles.--The last time that I saw you all together was to\nhear me speak of my eagle; Damocles died of it; leave the dead ... it\nis nevertheless because of him, or rather thanks to his death, that now\nI have killed my eagle....\n\n--Killed his eagle!!! cried every one.\n\n--That reminds me of an anecdote.... Let us grant I have said nothing.\n\n\nI\n\nIn the beginning was Tityrus.\n\nAnd Tityrus being alone and completely surrounded by swamps was\nbored.--Then Menalcas passed by, who put an idea into the head of\nTityrus, a seed in the swamp before him. And this idea was the seed and\nthis seed was the Idea. And with the help of God the seed germinated\nand became a little plant, and Tityrus in the evening and in the\nmorning knelt before it, thanking God for having given it to him. And\nthe plant became tall and great, and as it had powerful roots it very\nsoon completely dried up the soil around it, and thus Tityrus had at\nlast firm earth on which to set his feet, rest his head, and strengthen\nthe works of his hands.\n\nWhen this plant had grown to the height of Tityrus, Tityrus tasted the\njoy of sleeping stretched under its shadow. Now, this tree, being an\noak-tree, grew enormously; so much so that soon Tityrus\u2019 hands were\nno longer sufficient to till and hoe the earth around the oak--to\nwater the oak, to prune, to trim, to decorticate, to destroy the\ncaterpillars, and to ensure in due season the picking of its many\nand diverse fruits. He engaged, therefore, a tiller and a hoer, and\na trimmer and a decorticator, and a man to destroy the caterpillars,\nand a man to water the oak, and two or three fruit boys. And as each\nhad to keep strictly to his own speciality, there was a chance of each\nperson\u2019s work being well done.\n\nIn order to arrange for the paying of the wages, Tityrus had to have\nan accountant, who soon shared with a cashier the worries of Tityrus\u2019\nfortune; this grew like the oak.\n\nCertain arguments arising between the trimmer, and the pruner, and the\ndepilator--as to where each man\u2019s work began and finished, Tityrus saw\nthe necessity of an arbitrator, who called for two lawyers to expose\nboth sides of the question.\n\nTityrus took a secretary to record their judgments, and as they were\nonly recorded for future reference, there had to be a keeper of the\nrolls.\n\nOn the soil meanwhile houses appeared one by one, and it was necessary\nto have police for the streets, to guard against excesses. Tityrus,\novercome by work, began to feel ill. He sent for a doctor who told him\nto take a wife--and finding the work too much for him, Tityrus was\nforced to choose a sheriff, and he himself was therefore appointed\nmayor. From this time he had only very few hours of leisure, when he\ncould fish with a line from the windows of his house, which still\ncontinued to open on the swamp.\n\nThen Tityrus instituted bank holidays so that his people might enjoy\nthemselves; but as this was expensive and no one was very rich,\nTityrus, in order to be able to lend them all money, first began by\nraising it from each of them separately.\n\nNow the oak in the middle of the plain (for in spite of the town,\nin spite of the effort of so many men, it had never ceased to be\nthe plain), the oak, as I said, in the middle of the plain, had no\ndifficulty in being placed so that one of its sides was in shadow and\nthe other in the sunshine. Under the oak then, on the shady side\nTityrus rendered justice; on the sunny side he fulfilled his natural\nnecessities. And Tityrus was happy, for he felt his life was useful to\nothers and fully occupied.\n\n\nII\n\nMan\u2019s effort can be intensified. Tityrus\u2019 activity seemed to grow with\nencouragement; his natural ingenuity caused him to think of other means\nof employment. He set to work to furnish and decorate his house. The\nsuitable character of the hangings and the convenience of each object\nwere much admired. Industrious, he excelled in empiricism; he even made\na little hook to hang his sponges on the wall, which after four days he\nfound perfectly useless. Then Tityrus built another room by the side\nof his room, where he could arrange the affairs of the nation; the two\nrooms had the same entrance, to indicate that their interests were the\nsame; but because of the one entrance which supplied both rooms with\nair, the two chimneys would not draw at the same time, so that when it\nwas cold and a fire was lighted in one, the other was full of smoke.\nThe days therefore that he wished for a fire, Tityrus was forced to\nopen his window.\n\nAs Tityrus protected everything and worked for the propagation of the\nspecies, a time came when the slugs crawled on his garden paths in such\nabundance that he did not know where to step for fear of crushing them\nand finally resigned.\n\nHe invited a woman with a circulating library to come to the town, with\nwhom he opened a subscription. And as she was called Ang\u00e8le he became\naccustomed to go there every three days and pass his evenings with her.\nAnd by this means Tityrus learnt metaphysics, algebra, and theodicy.\nTityrus and Ang\u00e8le began to practise together successfully various\naccomplishments, and Ang\u00e8le showing particular taste for music, they\nhired a grand piano upon which Ang\u00e8le played the little tunes which\nbetween times he composed for her.\n\nTityrus said to Ang\u00e8le: So many occupations will kill me. I am at the\nend of my tether; I feel that I am getting used up, these consolidated\ninterests intensify my scruples, and as my scruples grow greater I grow\nless. What is to be done?\n\n--Shall we go away? said Ang\u00e8le to him.\n\n--I cannot go: I have my oak.\n\n--Suppose you were to leave it, said Ang\u00e8le.\n\n--Leave my oak! You don\u2019t mean it!\n\n--Is it not large enough now to grow alone?\n\n--But I am attached to it.\n\n--Become unattached, replied Ang\u00e8le.\n\nAnd a little while after, having realized strongly that after all,\noccupations, responsibilities, and other scruples could hold him no\nmore than the oak, Tityrus smiled and went off, taking with him the\ncash-box and Ang\u00e8le, and towards the end of the day walked with her\ndown the boulevard which leads from the Madeleine to the Op\u00e9ra.\n\n\nIII\n\nThat evening the boulevard had a strange look. One felt that something\nunusually grave was going to happen. An enormous crowd, serious and\nanxious, overflowed the pavement, spreading on to the road, which\nthe Paris police, placed at intervals, with great trouble kept free.\nBefore the restaurants, the terraces disproportionately enlarged by the\nplacing of chairs and tables, made the obstruction more complete and\nrendered circulation impossible. Now and again an onlooker impatiently\nstood upon his chair for an instant--the time that one could beg him\nto get down. Evidently all were waiting; one felt without doubt that\nbetween the two pavements upon the protected route something was going\nto pass. Having found a table with great difficulty and paid a large\nprice for it, Ang\u00e8le and Tityrus installed themselves in front of two\nglasses of beer and asked the waiter:\n\n--What are they all waiting for?\n\n--Where does your lordship come from? said the waiter. Does not your\nlordship know that every one is waiting to see Meliboeus? He will\npass by between 5 and 6 ... and there--listen: I believe one can\nalready hear his flute.\n\nFrom the depths of the boulevard the frail notes of a pipe were heard.\nThe crowd thrilled with still greater attention. The sound increased,\ncame nearer, grew louder and louder.\n\n--Oh, how it moves me! said Ang\u00e8le.\n\nThe setting sun soon threw its rays from one end of the boulevard to\nthe other. And, as if issuing from the splendour of the setting sun,\nMeliboeus was at last seen advancing--preceded by the simple sound of\nhis flute.\n\nAt first nothing could be clearly distinguished but his figure, but\nwhen he drew nearer:\n\n--Oh, how charming he is! said Ang\u00e8le. In the meantime Meliboeus\nas he arrived opposite Tityrus, ceased to play his flute, stopped\nsuddenly, saw Ang\u00e8le, and every one realized that he was naked.\n\nOh! said Ang\u00e8le, leaning upon Tityrus, how beautiful he is! what strong\nthighs he has! His playing is adorable!\n\nTityrus felt a little uncomfortable.\n\n--Ask him where he is going, said Ang\u00e8le.\n\n--Where are you going? questioned Tityrus.\n\nMeliboeus replied:--Eo Romam.\n\n--What does he say? asked Ang\u00e8le.\n\nTityrus:--You would not understand, my dear.\n\n--But you can explain it to me, said Ang\u00e8le.\n\n--Romam, insisted Meliboeus.... Urbem quam dicunt Romam.\n\nAng\u00e8le:--Oh, it sounds delicious! What does it mean?\n\nTityrus:--But my dear Ang\u00e8le, I assure you it is not so delightful as\nit sounds; it means quite simply that he is going to Rome.\n\n--Rome! said Ang\u00e8le dreamily. Oh, I should love so much to see Rome!\n\nMeliboeus, resuming his flute, once more began to play his prim\u00e6val\nmelody, and at the sound, Ang\u00e8le, in a passion of excitement, raised\nherself, stood up, drew near; and as Meliboeus\u2019 arm was bent to her\nhand, she took it, and thus the two together went on their way along\nthe boulevard; further, further they went, gradually vanished from\nsight, and disappeared into the finality of the twilit dusk.\n\nThe crowd, now unbridled in its agitation, became more and more\ntumultuous. On all sides one heard the questions: What did he\nsay?--What did he do?--Who was that woman?--And when, a few minutes\nlater, the evening papers appeared, a furious curiosity swept over them\nlike a cyclone, and it was suddenly divulged that the woman was Ang\u00e8le,\nand that this Meliboeus was a naked person who was going to Italy.\n\nThen, all their curiosity having died down, the crowd streamed off like\nwater flowing away and the main boulevards were deserted.\n\nAnd Tityrus found himself alone, completely surrounded by the swamp.\n\nLet us grant that I have said nothing.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAn irrepressible laughter shook the audience for several seconds.\n\n--Gentlemen, I am happy that my story has amused you, said Prometheus,\nlaughing also. Since the death of Damocles I have found the secret of\nlaughter. For the present I have finished, gentlemen. Let the dead bury\nthe dead and let us go quickly to lunch.\n\nHe took the waiter by one arm and Cocles by the other; they all left\nthe cemetery; after passing the gates, the rest of the assembly\ndispersed.\n\n--Pardon me, said Cocles. Your story was charming, and you made us\nlaugh.... But I do not quite understand the connexion....\n\n--If there had been more you would not have laughed so much, said\nPrometheus. Do not look for too much meaning in all this. I wanted\nabove all to distract you, and I am happy to have done so; surely I\nowed you that? I wearied you so the other day.\n\nThey found themselves on the boulevards.\n\n--Where are we going? said the waiter.\n\n--To your restaurant, if you do not mind, in memory of our first\nmeeting.\n\n--You are passing it, said the waiter.\n\n--I do not recognize it.\n\n--It is all new now.\n\n--Oh, I forgot!... I forgot that my eagle.... Don\u2019t trouble: he will\nnever do it again.\n\n--Is it true, said Cocles, what you say?\n\n--What?\n\n--That you have killed him?\n\n--And that we are going to eat him?... Do you doubt it? said\nPrometheus. Have you looked at me?--When he was alive, did I dare to\nlaugh?--Was I not horribly thin?\n\n--Certainly.\n\n--He fed on me long enough. I think now that it is my turn.\n\n--A table! Sit down! Sit down, gentlemen!\n\n--Waiter, do not serve us: as a last remembrance, take the place of\nDamocles.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe meal was more joyful than it is possible to say. The eagle was\nfound to be delicious, and at dessert they all drank his health.\n\n--Has he then been useless? asked one.\n\n--Do not say that, Cocles!--his flesh has nourished us.--When I\nquestioned him he answered nothing, but I eat him without bearing him\na grudge: if he had made me suffer less, he would have been less fat;\nless fat, he would have been less delectable.\n\n--Of his past beauty, what is there left.\n\n--I have kept all his feathers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_It is with one of them that I write this little book. May you, rare\nfriend, not find it too foolish._\n\n\n\n\nEPILOGUE\n\n\nTO ENDEAVOUR TO MAKE THE READER BELIEVE THAT IF THIS BOOK IS SUCH AS IT\nIS, IT IS NOT THE FAULT OF THE AUTHOR\n\nOne does not write the books one wants to.\n\n                                 _Journal des Goncourt._\n\n\n\n\n_The history of Leda made such a great stir and covered Tyndarus with\nso much glory that Minos was not much disturbed to hear Pasipha\u00eb say to\nhim: \u201cIt can\u2019t be helped. I do not like men.\u201d_\n\n_But later: \u201cIt is very provoking (and it has not been easy!) I trusted\nthat a God had hidden there. If Zeus had done his share I should have\nproduced a Dioscurus; thanks to this animal, I have only given birth to\na calf.\u201d_\n\n\n  PRINTED AT\n  THE COMPLETE PRESS\n  WEST NORWOOD\n  LONDON\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE:\n\n\n  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.","title":"Prometheus Illbound","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":13347}