wn intentions were not
very clear to him.

Dessert was served as if by magic. A huge epergne of gilded bronze
from Thomire's studio overshadowed the table. Tall statuettes, which a
celebrated artist had endued with ideal beauty according to conventional
European notions, sustained and carried pyramids of strawberries, pines,
fresh dates, golden grapes, clear-skinned peaches, oranges brought
from Setubal by steamer, pomegranates, Chinese fruit; in short, all
the surprises of luxury, miracles of confectionery, the most tempting
dainties, and choicest delicacies. The coloring of this epicurean work
of art was enhanced by the splendors of porcelain, by sparkling outlines
of gold, by the chasing of the vases. Poussin's landscapes, copied
on Sevres ware, were crowned with graceful fringes of moss, green,
translucent, and fragile as ocean weeds.

The revenue of a German prince would not have defrayed the cost of this
arrogant display. Silver and mother-of-pearl, gold and crystal, were
lavished afresh in new forms; but scarcely a vague idea of this almost
Oriental fairyland penetrated eyes now heavy with wine, or crossed the
delirium of intoxication. The fire and fragrance of the wines acted like
potent philters and magical fumes, producing a kind of mirage in the
brain, binding feet, and weighing down hands. The clamor increased.
Words were no longer distinct, glasses flew in pieces, senseless peals
of laughter broke out. Cursy snatched up a horn and struck up a flourish
on it. It acted like a signal given by the devil. Yells, hisses, songs,
cries, and groans went up from the maddened crew. You might have smiled
to see men, light-hearted by nature, grow tragical as Crebillon's
dramas, and pensive as a sailor in a coach. Hard-headed men blabbed
secrets to the inquisitive, who were long past heeding them. Saturnine
faces were wreathed in smiles worthy of a pirouetting dancer. Claude
Vignon shuffled about like a bear in a cage. Intimate friends began to
fight.

Animal likenesses, so curiously traced by physiologists in human faces,
came out in gestures and behavior. A book lay open for a Bichat if he
had repaired thither fasting and collected. The master of the house,
knowing his condition, did not dare stir, but encouraged his guests'
extravangances with a fixed grimacing smile, meant to be hospitable and
appropriate. His large face, turning from blue and red to a purple shade
terrible to see, partook of the general commotion