, my old friend! so, you've come back again! Sit down, sit down! — 'tis years since we have met. How goes the world with you? — You shake your head Not well? Indeed! Im sorry. So your plan Did not succeed. You see 'twas as I feared. You would not heed me, thought my counsel bad; Would go your own way; had your notions high Of honesty and honor, and all that, Straightforwardness, uprightness, these at last Would, must succeed; what think you of it now? Was it not as I told you? Honesty Is simply the worst policy on earth: As for the other world, the future world, If any such there be, it may be best; But for this world, made as it is, 'tis worst — A mean low proverb, and what's more, a lie. “Virtues its own reward,” exactly so — Its own reward, whatever that may be, But not the world's success. No, no, my friend!
You look surprised to find me titled, rich, Housed in a palace, playing the great man — It must be laughable to you who know How we began in life. So let us laugh — Laugh inextinguishable laughter, just As the old augurs did upon the sly When no one saw them. Faith, this serious load Of dignity is sometimes hard to bear! And pleasant 'tis to meet a friend with whom One may throw off ones livery of pretence, Relax, laugh, lie no more, be natural.
So now, a truce to lying and pretence, —
I do so suffocate beneath my mask, I am so sick of my falsetto voice, Almost I'd like to cry out to the world I am a scoundrel, though a prosperous one — Only it would not do; and then so long To Christian jargon I have schooled my tongue And virtuous slang, that it comes hard at last Even to myself to own the very truth, And wholly cease to be a hypocrite — Nay, sometimes I impose upon myself, And almost think I am what I pretend.
You bring the old times back, how vividly! We started from the self-same path in life, You one way, I the other. Both of us When we were young and poor, ay, very poor, Hawked through the streets our little stock of wares Spread on a tray, and swinging from our necks, Pens, pencils, trinkets, brooches, — all mere sham; Mine were, at least, — what yours were, you know best; And so, mere boys, we bore along the streets Our tawdry store, and cried: “Who'll buy? Who'll buy?” Well, passers bought of me more than of you Simply because I lied with glib, false tongue, Vaunted my goods as real, — in a word, Cheated; of course I cheated, if I could. What's any trade but cheating? All the world Strove to cheat me, and I strove to cheat them. And thus at first we earned enough to live — Badly, of course, but still we lived and saved; Went to bed hungry many a night to dream Of coming fortune, that was slow to come.
So daily turning over our small gains, We by degrees laid by a pretty sum, — Paltry enough indeed, but still enough At least to start upon — to place our feet Upon the ladders lowest rung of trade; And then we parted, what long years ago! How many is it? Forty at the least. And now we meet again. Ah well, my friend! You have not prospered; you are poor, I see, — Still poor hungry perhaps. Stop! let me ring, — A glass of good old wine will do you good. Wine? You shall breakfast with me — we will talk Over old times. Perhaps 'tis not too late Even now to put you on the prosperous road. We'll see — we'll see! John, set the table here — Set it for two — my friend will lunch with me; And bring two bottles of that old red seal Out of the right bin, A I — upper shelf. And your champagne? You like it sweet or dry? Dry? I agree with you. The best dry, John — You know my brand; and quick too, don't delay.
Ah, you are looking at my pictures! Well, What say you of them? That's Meissonier — A drinking-bout. Fine, I am told — I know It stood me in a hundred thousand francs, And cheap at that. There's a Fortuny there. Bright, isnt it? And that? Oh, that's a nymph! By — faith, I've quite forgot who painted it! Nude — yes, I think so — very nude, but then That's all the vogue now. Living, is it not? Live, palpitating flesh! To balance it There's a Madonna pale and pure enough, Painted by — what's his name? Enough of these — You'll come and look at them another time. Now for our breakfast, lunch, or what you will.
You need not wait, John! Come, sit down, my friend!