The nose is always on duty.
It watches over your repose and contributes to your health. Feet, hands, all other parts of the body are stupid. The hands are often caught in foolish acts; the feet stumble, and in their clumsiness allow the body to fall. And when they do, they get off free, and the poor nose is punished for their misdeeds.
How often do you not hear it said: “Mr. So-and-So has broken his nose.”
There have been a great many broken noses since the creation of the world.
Can any one give a single instance of a nose broken through any fault of its own?
No; but, nevertheless, the poor nose is always being scolded.
Well, it endures it all with angelic patience. True, it sometimes has the impertinence to snore. But where and when did you ever hear it complain?...
But let us forget for a moment the utility of the nose, and regard it only from the esthetic point of view.
A cedar of Lebanon, it tramples underfoot the hyssop of the mustache; a central column, it provides a support for the double arch of the eyebrows. On its capital perches the eagle of thought. It is enwreathed with smiles. With what boldness did the nose of Ajax confront the storm when he said, “I will escape in spite of the gods.” With what courage did the nose of the great Condé—whose greatness really derived from his nose—with what courage did the nose of the great Condé enter before all others, before the great Condé himself, the entrenchments of the Spanish at Lens and Rocroy, where their conqueror boldly flourished the staff of command? With what assurance was Dugazon’s nose thrust before the public, that nose which knew how to wriggle in forty-two different ways, and each way funnier than the last?
No, I do not believe that the nose should be permitted to remain in the obscurity into which man’s ingratitude has hitherto forced it.