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, took occasion to make an end, upon the spot, of his third bottle of Chambertin.) "Then--hic-cup!--pray, sir--what--what is it?" "That is neither here nor there, Monsieur Bon-Bon," replied his Majesty, musingly. "I have tasted--that is to say, I have known some very bad souls, and some too--pretty good ones." Here he smacked his lips, and, having unconsciously let fall his hand upon the volume in his pocket, was seized with a violent fit of sneezing. He continued. "There was the soul of Cratinus--passable: Aristophanes--racy: Plato--exquisite--not your Plato, but Plato the comic poet; your Plato would have turned the stomach of Cerberus--faugh! Then let me see! there were Naevius, and Andronicus, and Plautus, and Terentius. Then there were Lucilius, and Catullus, and Naso, and Quintus Flaccus,--dear Quinty! as I called him when he sung a seculare for my amusement, while I toasted him, in pure good humor, on a fork. But they want flavor, these Romans. One fat Greek is worth a dozen of them, and besides will keep, which cannot be said of a Quirite.--Let us taste your Sauterne." Bon-Bon had by this time made up his mind to nil admirari and endeavored to hand down the bottles in question. He was, however, conscious of a strange sound in the room like the wagging of a tail. Of this, although extremely indecent in his Majesty, the philosopher took no notice:--simply kicking the dog, and requesting him to be quiet. The visiter continued: "I found that Horace tasted very much like Aristotle;--you know I am fond of variety. Terentius I could not have told from Menander. Naso, to my astonishment, was Nicander in disguise. Virgilius had a strong twang of Theocritus. Martial put me much in mind of Archilochus--and Titus Livius was positively Polybius and none other." "Hic-cup!" here replied Bon-Bon, and his majesty proceeded: "But if I have a penchant, Monsieur Bon-Bon--if I have a penchant, it is for a philosopher. Yet, let me tell you, sir, it is not every dev--I mean it is not every gentleman who knows how to choose a philosopher. Long ones are not good; and the best, if not carefully shelled, are apt to be a little rancid on account of the gall!" "Shelled!" "I mean taken out of the carcass." "What do you think of a--hic-cup!--physician?" "Don't mention them!--ugh! ugh! ugh!" (Here his Majesty retched violently.) "I never tasted but one--that rascal Hippocrates!--smelt of asafoetida--ugh! ugh! ugh!--c
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