“Do I not?” said I.
“Well, what has the tide to do with the matter?”
“Much,” said I; “what is the tide?”
“The ebb and flow of the sea,” said the Armenian.
“The sea itself; what is the Haik word for sea?”
The Armenian gave a strong gasp; then, nodding his head thrice, “You are right,” said he; “the English word tide is the Armenian for sea; and now I begin to perceive that there are many English words which are Armenian; there is --- and ---, and there again in French there is --- and --- derived from the Armenian. How strange, how singular!—I thank you. It is a proud thing to see that the language of my race has had so much influence over the languages of the world.”
I saw that all that related to his race was the weak point of the Armenian. I did not flatter the
Armenian with respect to his race or language. “An inconsiderable people,” said I, “shrewd and industrious, but still an inconsiderable people. A language bold and expressive, and of some antiquity, derived, though perhaps not immediately, from some much older tongue. I do not think that the Armenian has had any influence over the formation of the languages of the world. I am not much indebted to the Armenian for the solution of any doubts; whereas to the language of Mr. Petulengro—”
“I have heard you mention that name before,” said the Armenian; “who is Mr. Petulengro?”
And then I told the Armenian who Mr. Petulengro was. The Armenian spoke contemptuously of Mr. Petulengro and his race. “Don’t speak contemptuously of Mr. Petulengro,” said I, “nor of anything belonging to him. He is a dark mysterious personage; all connected with him is a mystery, especially his language; but I believe that his language is doomed to solve a great philological problem—Mr. Petulengro—”