regularly at a banker's or had shut himself up in a Bernardine he is like a grain of yeast that ferments and restores to each of us convent.Today his linen is filthy,his clothes torn to rags,he is a part of his native individuality.He shakes and stirs us up, virtually barefoot,and he hangs his head furtively;one is makes us praise or blume,smokes out the truth,discloses the tempted to hail him and toss him a coin.Tomorrow he is worthy and unmasks the rascals.It is then that the sensible man powdered,curled,well dressed;he holds his head high,shows keeps his ears open and sorts out his company. himself off-you would almost take him for a man of quality. I knew my man from quite a while back.He used to He lives from day to day,sad or cheerful according to luck.His frequent a house to which his talent had given him entree. first care on arising in the morning is to ascertain where he will There was an only daughter;he swore to the father and mother dine;after dinner he ponders supper.Night brings its own that he would marry her.They shrugged it off,laughed in his worries-whether to return on foot to the garret where he face,told him he was crazy.But I lived to see it happen.He sleeps unless the landlady has taken back the key from asked me for a little money,which I gave him.He had impatience at receiving no rent);or whether to repair to a somehow made his way into a few good families,where he could suburban tavern and await the dawn over a crust of bread and a always dine provided he would not speak without asking mug of beer.When he hasn't as much as sixpence in his pocket, permission first.He kept quiet and ate with fury.He was as sometimes happens,he falls back on a cab-driving friend of remarkable to see under that restraint.If he had the inclination his,or the coachman of a noble lord,who gives him a to break the treaty and open his mouth,at the first word all the shakedown in a stable,alongside the horses.The next morning guests would shout "Why,Rameau!"Then rage would blaze in he still has bits of his mattress in his hair.If the weather is his eyes and he fell to eating with greater fury still.You wanted mild,he perambulates all night up and down the Cours-la-reine to know his name and now you know it.He is the nephew of or the Champs-Elysees.Daybreak sees him back in town,all the famous musician who delivered us from the plain song of dressed from yesterday for today and from today perhaps for the Lully that we had intoned for over a century,and who wrote so remainder of the week. much visionary gibberish and spocalyptic truth about the theory I have no great esteem for such eccentrics.Some people of music -writings that neither he nor anyone else ever take them on as regular acquaintances or even friends.But for understood.We have from him a number of operas in which one my part it is only once a year that I stop and fall in with them, finds harmony,snatches of song,disconnected ideas,clatter, largely because their character stands out from the rest and flights,triumphal processions,spears,apotheoses, breaks that tedious uniformity which our education,our social murmurings,endless victories,and dance tunes that will last for conventions,and our customary good manners have brought all time.Having eliminated "the Florentine"in public favor,he about.If such a character makes his appearance in some circle, will be eliminated by the Italian virtuosos-as he himself 246 247 了”1