Mr. Timm rested his elbows on the table, and the smooth face in his white hands, and smiled craftily at Oswald.
"And that is--what, Timm?"
"Ten thousand dollars annual income." Oswald laughed.
"A very prosaic remedy for contempt of the world."
"But a very radical one, and in your case infallible."
"Why exactly in my case?"
Timm filled the glasses once more, lighted a fresh cigar, and said:
"Heine, you know, divides men in two classes: fat Grecians and lean Nazarenes. I have found this distinction as acute as true. The former believe in Our Lady of Melos, the latter worship the Virgin Dolorosa. The former enjoy the good things of life in cheerful happiness; the latter prefer a grumbling resignation and meditative asceticism. In order that both classes should be right, that the Grecians should be able to live well and the Nazarenes pray well, the former must have an abundance of money, and the latter must be poor, very poor indeed."
"Before you go on with your exposition, Timm, tell me first to which of the two classes you belong yourself."
"To both, or to neither of the two, as you choose. I have the good digestion, the sound teeth, the fine perception--in a word, the desire and the capacity to enjoy which belongs to the Grecians; but I have also the tenacity and frugality necessary to the Nazarenes for the practice of their peculiar virtues. I have the invaluable talent of the camel to be able to thirst a long time without losing heart or appetite; on the contrary, abstinence only serves in my case to sharpen the appetite and to season the next drink more attractively. When I have travelled through the desert, and--as just now, for instance--the branches of mimosas and the fans of palm-trees wave over me, and the icy-cold well--as just now, for instance, from the bottle--I meant to say, from the rock--foams and purls--then I bend my long camel's neck and drink and drink and drink, and bless the dry, brown desert which has led me to such a delicious well."