ion would be attained. Finally,
madame, and this is my supreme folly, I believe in happiness and seek it
with credulous hope; I believe that the purest joys are those which are
most dearly bought; but I am ready for any sacrifice, and would
willingly give my life for an hour of this sublime joy that I have so
long dreamed of and still hope to possess.... Now you know why I am
called Don Quixote. To be a knight-errant in the present day is rather
difficult; a certain amount of courage is necessary to dare to say to
unbelievers: I believe; to egotists, I love; to materialists, I dream;
it requires more than courage, it requires audacity and insolence. Yes,
one must commence by appearing aggressive in order to have the right to
appear generous. If I were merely loyal and charitable, my opinions
would not be supported; instead of being called _Don Quixote_, I would
be called _Grandison_ ... and I would be a ruined man! Thus I hasten to
polish my armor and attack the insolent with insolence, the scoffers
with scoffing; I defend my enthusiasm with irony; like the eagle, I let
my claws grow in order to defend my wings." ... Here he stopped....
"Heavens!" he exclaimed, "how could I compare myself to an eagle; I beg
your pardon, madame, for this presumptuous comparison.... You see to
what flights your indulgence leads me" ... and he laughed at his own
enthusiasm, ... but I did not laugh, my feelings were too deeply
stirred.

Valentine, what I repeat to you is very different from his way of saying
it. What eloquence in his noble words, his tones of voice, his sparkling
eyes! His generous sentiments, so long restrained, were poured forth
with fire; he was happy at finding himself at last understood, at being
able for once in his life to see appreciated the divine treasures of
his heart, to be able to impart all his pet ideas without seeing them
jeered at and their name insulted! Sympathy inspired him with confidence
in me. With delight I recognised myself in his own description. I saw
with pride, in his profound convictions, his strong and holy truths, the
poetical beliefs of my youth, that have always been treated by every one
else as fictions, and foolish illusions; he carried me back to the happy
days of my early life, by repeating to me, like an echo of the past,
those noble words that are no longer heard in the present--those noble
precepts--those beautiful refrains of chivalry in which my infancy was
cradled.... As I listene