nt of the hand and moisten
our throats. How contemptible our sorrow since it can be thus assuaged!
We are surprised that Providence does not send angels to grant our
prayers; it need not take the trouble, for it has seen our woes, it knows
our desires, our pride and bitterness, the ocean of evil that surrounds
us, and is content to hang a small black fruit along our paths. Since
that man sleeps so soundly on his bench, why do not I sleep on mine? My
rival is doubtless passing the night with my mistress; he will leave her
at daybreak; she will accompany him to the door and they will see me
asleep on my bench. Their kisses will not awaken me, and they will shake
me by the shoulder; I will turn over on the other side and sleep on."

Thus, inspired by fierce joy, I set out in quest of a tavern. As it was
past midnight some were closed; this put me in a fury. "What!" I cried,
"even that consolation is refused me!" I ran hither and thither knocking
at the doors of taverns, crying: "Wine! Wine!"

At last I found one open; I called for a bottle, and without caring
whether it was good or bad, I gulped it down; a second followed, and then
a third. I dosed myself as with medicine, and forced the wine down as if
it had been prescribed by some physician to save my life.

The heavy fumes of the liquor, doubtless adulterated, mounted to my head.
As I had gulped it down at a breath, drunkenness seized me promptly; I
felt that I was becoming muddled, then I experienced a lucid moment, then
confusion followed. Then consciousness left me, I leaned my elbows on the
table and said adieu to myself.

But I had a confused idea that I was not alone in the tavern. At the
other end of the room stood a hideous group with haggard faces and harsh
voices. Their dress indicated that they belonged to the poorer class, but
were not bourgeois; in short, they belonged to that ambiguous class, the
vilest of all, which has neither fortune nor occupation, which never
works except at some criminal plot, a class which, neither poor nor rich,
combines the vices of one with the misery of the other.

They were quarrelling over a dirty pack of cards. Among them was a girl
who appeared to be very young and very pretty, was decently clad, and
resembled her companions in no way, except in the harshness of her voice,
which was as rough and broken as if it had performed the office of public
crier. She looked at me closely, as if astonished to see me in such a bad
p