"Ah! I have thee, pretty beast!"
"No, no, thou dost not have me. Thy bare foot is resting on my shadow."
"Ah! this time, pretty beast, thou art my prisoner; I have thee, pretty beast, I have thee in my hands."
"Thou hast me and thou seest me not, for the odor of my body blinds men. Thou hast me, and see!
"See, I escape thee and I run. Run after me, run after the pretty beast."
"Ah! I am weary with running for sixty years; come, my son, it is thou who will catch the pretty beast.
"I am weary, I sit down to rest; go, it is now thy hour to run after the pretty beast!"
Having finished this rhapsody, Entragues wrote the beginning of the story of Gaetan Solange, which had long tormented him.
It was a way of explaining himself by means of an anticipated commentary, for he was on the verge, doubtless! of a similar state of soul: would not Hubert and Gaetan be true counterparts, to-morrow, if this continued?