“No matter, we’ll leave woman’s
body and flanks formed after the canons of the Greek
sculptors. That will be to give you pleasure,
reverend sir, and also in due consideration of the
labours of maternity. It is true, I intend in
that case also, to make several changes of which I’ll
speak to you on a future day. But to return to
our subject. I have to acknowledge that all I
have till now predicted is nothing but a preparatory
measure for the real nourishment, which is that of
the Sylphs and all aerial spirits. They drink
light, which is sufficient to give to their bodies
marvellous strength and subtility. It is their
only potion, one day it will be ours also. Nothing
more is to be done than to render the rays of the
sun drinkable. I confess that I do not see with
sufficient clearness the means to arrive at it, and
I do foresee many encumbrances and great obstacles
on the road. But whensoever some sage shall be
able to do it, mankind will be the equal of Sylphs
and Salamanders in intelligence and beauty.”
My good tutor listened to these words, folded in himself,
his head sadly lowered. He seemed to contemplate
the changes to himself from the kind of food imagined
by our host.
“Sir,” he said after a while, “did
you not speak at yonder cookshop of an elixir which
dispenses with all kinds of food?”
“True, I did,” replied M. d’Asterac,
“but that liquor is only good for philosophers,
and by that you may understand how restricted is the
use of it. It will be better not to mention it.”
One doubt tormented me. I asked leave of our
host to submit it to him, certain that he would enlighten
me at once. He allowed me to speak and I said:
“Sir, those Salamanders, who you say are so
beautiful, and of whom, after your relation, I have
conceived a charming idea, have they unhappily spoiled
their teeth by light drinking, as the shepherds at
Valais lost theirs by feeding only on milk diet?
I confess I am rather uneasy about it.”
“My son,” replied M. d’Asterac,
“your curiosity pleases me and I will satisfy
it. The Salamanders have no teeth that we should
call such. But their gums are furnished with
two ranges of pearls, very white and very brilliant,
lending to their smiles an inconceivable gracefulness.
You should know that these pearls are light-hardened.”
I said to M. d’Asterac that I was glad it was
so and he continued:
“Men’s teeth are a sign of ferocity.
Once people are properly fed, their teeth will give
way to some ornament similar to the pearls of the
Salamander. Then it will become incomprehensible
that a lover could, without horror and disgust, contemplate
dogs’ teeth in the mouth of his beloved.”
CHAPTER VIII
The Library and its Contents
Copyrights
The Queen Pedauque from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
