"Sir!" said the Marquis abashed, "I did not know" . . .
"I was there, I was there behind the holly-bush; I heard you begin the recital of the first satire of our poet, of our god! for, by Hercules, young man, I see that you appreciate him as I do! Never could a Tuscan pronounce with more purity than you, the inimitable poetry of our common hero; and truly, my old heart is rejoiced at this meeting, as happy as it is unexpected.
"'Hunc, Macrine, diem numera meliore lapillo!'"[4] cried the old man; and he cordially held out his hand to his new acquaintance, having borrowed this quotation from his favorite author.
"If it were not too presumptuous, sir," answered Létorière, with humility, "I should dare to answer you:"
"'Non equidem hoc dubites, amboram fœdere certo
Consentira dies, et ah uno sidere duci.'"[5]
"Bravo! my young friend, it would be impossible to answer with more spirit, or more to the point! You must know my Persius, my inimitable stoic, as well as I do; but what is given to you, and which, alas! I have not, is this beautiful and harmonious pronunciation, so musical that I am transported by it! So," added the councillor, hesitating, "if I dared, I would ask you, in the name of our common admiration, to repeat to me the first verses of the third satire."
"With pleasure, sir," said Létorière, smiling.
"'Hæc cedo, ut admoveam templis et farre litabo.'"[6]
"Better and better!" cried the savant, clapping his hands. "But apropos to this quotation, what signification do you give to far?" and the doctor fastened an anxious look on the young man, whose knowledge he wished to put to the proof by this question.
"According to my slender experience," unhesitatingly replied the Marquis, "far signifies the grain of which flour is made; and, contrary to the opinion of Casaubon and Scaliger, I believe that this word applies not only to bread, but to corn, to barley, in a word, to all sorts of grain; for you know, sir, that far was with salt, the most common of offerings; and it is that, I think, that Virgil means by these words, fruges salsae . . . salsa mola . . . it is then as a kind of humble offering to our common divinity, sir, that I will repeat the verses which please you." Then Létorière kindly recited the whole satire, giving to his harmonious voice an expression by turns so fine, so pointed, and so energetic, that doctor Sphex, delighted, cried out: