'O pasteur, Hespérus à l'occident s'allume!'[2]
The melancholy of the hour, the clear evening, the shining star and the pastoral life, it is all there; why seek for anything further?"
"It is true," said I, "that that kind of stanza, the single stanza in which a whole poem seems to be condensed, is sufficient unto itself and disdains rhyme. I have composed one myself, very absurd, but who could find a rhyme to add to it?
'Je suis le nautonier des océans lunaires!'[3]
The Italian poet, Gualdo, has quoted this line somewhere as an epigraph, in order to silence his contemporaries and make them search for its origin."
Villiers suddenly began to rummage in his pockets, and, after an agitated search, he drew out some very crumpled sheets of paper.
"Let us be serious again," said he, "let us be practical and prosaic. Here is my article upon the exposition: it is finished."
"What!" cried I, "have you not sent it yet? It will be too late: the opening of the exposition is an old story now: they will not wish to publish it."
"Oh, if you could see with what fine little touches it has all been refreshed! In the first place, I have changed the title, which is now: 'Munich during the Exposition.' Really the article isn't bad, listen to this:"
And he read:—