—They are words of self-devotion. Gentlemen, one must devote oneself to one’s eagle.... (Agitation—many get up.) Gentlemen, do not move: I will be personal. It is not necessary to remind you of the history of Cocles and Damocles.—All here know it. Well—Well! I will tell them to their faces: the secret of their lives is in their self-devotion to their debt: You, Cocles, to your blow; you, Damocles, to your bank-note. Cocles, your duty was to make your scar deeper and your empty orbit emptier, oh! Cocles! yours, Damocles, to keep your bank-note, to continue owing it, owing it without shame, owing even more, owing it with joy. There is your eagle; there are other and more glorious ones. But I tell you this: the eagle will devour us anyway—vice or virtue—duty or passion,—cease to be commonplace and you cannot escape it. But....
(Here the voice of Prometheus was barely heard in the tumult)—but if you do not feed your eagle lovingly he will remain grey and miserable, invisible to all and sly; then you will call him conscience, not worthy of the torments he causes; without beauty.—Gentlemen, you must love your eagle, love him to make him beautiful; for it is for his future beauty that you must love your eagle....
Now I have finished, gentlemen, my eagle will make the collection. Gentlemen, you must love my eagle.—In the meantime I will let off some fireworks....
Thanks to the pyrotechnic diversion, the assembly dispersed without too much trouble; but Damocles took cold on coming out of the hall.