The Bohemian was careful not to leave the glasses of his guests empty; and Cédrille, led on by the example set him, finally decided to partake of the omelet.
"All the same," he muttered, "I haven't enjoyed myself much here!"
"Bigre! my boy, you are hard to please! You see before you a delicious supper—with two jovial companions; this venerable Bohemian fills your glass every instant; this wine is very good—and you are not satisfied. Is it because we had a quarrel with two boors? But in Paris it rarely happens that one passes a day without an affair, more or less serious. Why, I myself, as you see me, when I return home at night without having drawn my sword, am not content with my day; I feel that something is lacking.—You must know, respected Bohemian, that this young man has been in Paris only since this morning; he cannot as yet be acquainted with our customs; but I have undertaken his education, and I will push him!"
"Thanks!" said Cédrille to himself; "if he pushes me the way he has this evening, I shall risk nothing by keeping on my guard."
"Yes, yes," said the old man, caressing his beard, "I know that this young man arrived in Paris to-day, with his cousin, a very pretty young woman—a fascinating brunette."
"I say! you know that?" exclaimed Cédrille, staring at the old man in amazement. "You're a sorcerer, are you?"
"That is my profession."
"And I bow before your magic power!" cried Passedix, emptying his glass at a draught.
"But they burn sorcerers!" muttered the peasant, moving his chair away from the table and looking at the Bohemian with a distrustful expression.
"And so I fully expect to be roasted some day! But meanwhile I must make merry during the time I still have to pass on this earth.—Waiter, eau-de-vie—a large measure!"