"Nothing at all."
"What did you do then?"
"I was bored."
"So you felt no ambition?"
I print my first poem.
"Yes, indeed: by means of intrigue and trouble, I attained the glory of printing in the Almanack des Muses an idyll the appearance of which almost killed me with hope and fear[217]. I would have given all the King's coaches to have written the ballad, Ô ma tendre musette! or, De mon berger volage."
Good for everything where others, good for nothing where I myself am concerned: there you have me.
[176] This book was written in Berlin in March and April 1821 and revised in July 1846.—T.