As Fouquet was giving, or appearing to give, all hisattention to the brilliant illuminations, the languishingmusic of the violins and hautboys, the sparkling sheaves ofthe artificial fires, which, inflaming the heavens withglowing reflections, marked behind the trees the darkprofile of the donjon of Vincennes; as, we say, thesuperintendent was smiling on the ladies and the poets thefete was every whit as gay as usual; and Vatel, whoserestless, even jealous look, earnestly consulted the aspectof Fouquet, did not appear dissatisfied with the welcomegiven to the ordering of the evening's entertainment. Thefireworks over, the company dispersed about the gardens andbeneath the marble porticoes with the delightful libertywhich reveals in the master of the house so muchforgetfulness of greatness, so much courteous hospitality,so much magnificent carelessness. The poets wandered about,arm in arm, through the groves; some reclined upon beds ofmoss, to the great damage of velvet clothes and curledheads, into which little dried leaves and blades of grassinsinuated themselves. The ladies, in small numbers,listened to the songs of the singers and the verses of thepoets; others listened to the prose, spoken with much art,by men who were neither actors nor poets, but to whom youthand solitude gave an unaccustomed eloquence, which appearedto them better than everything else in the world. "Why,"said La Fontaine, "does not our master Epicurus descend intothe garden? Epicurus never abandoned his pupils, the masteris wrong."

"Monsieur," said Conrart, "you yourself are in the wrongpersisting in decorating yourself with the name of anEpicurean; indeed, nothing here reminds me of the doctrineof the philosopher of Gargetta."

"Bah!" said La Fontaine, "is it not written that Epicuruspurchased a large garden and lived in it tranquilly with hisfriends?"

"That is true."

"Well, has not M. Fouquet purchased a large garden atSaint-Mande, and do we not live here very tranquilly withhim and his friends?"

"Yes, without doubt; unfortunately it is neither the gardennor the friends which constitute the resemblance. Now, whatlikeness is there between the doctrine of Epicurus and thatof M. Fouquet?"

"This - pleasure gives happiness."

"Next?"

"Well, I do not think we ought to consider ourselvesunfortunate, for my part, at least. A good repast - vin deFoigny, which they have the delicacy to go and fetch for mefrom my favorite cabaret - not one impertinence heardduring a supper an hour long, in spite of the presence often millionaires and twenty poets."

"I stop you there. You mentioned vin de Foigny, and a goodrepast, do you persist in that?"

"I persist, - anteco, as they say at Port Royal."

"Then please to recollect that the great Epicurus lived, andmade his pupils live, upon bread, vegetables, and water."

"That is not certain," said La Fontaine; "and you appear tome to be confounding Epicurus with Pythagoras, my dearConrart."

"Remember, likewise, that the ancient philosopher was rathera bad friend of the gods and the magistrates."

"Oh! that is what I will not admit," replied La Fontaine."Epicurus was like M. Fouquet."

"Do not compare him to monsieur le surintendant," saidConrart, in an agitated voice, "or you would accredit thereports which are circulated concerning him and us."

"What reports?"

"That we are bad Frenchmen, lukewarm with regard to theking, deaf to the law."

"I return, then, to my text," said La Fontaine. "Listen,Conrart, this is the morality of Epicurus, whom, besides, Iconsider, if I must tell you so, as a myth. Antiquity ismostly mythical. Jupiter, if we give a little attention toit, is life. Alcides is strength. The words are there tobear me out; Zeus, that is, zen, to live. Alcides, that is,alce, vigor. Well, Epicurus, that is mild watchfulness, thatis protection; now who watches better over the state, or whoprotects individuals better than M. Fouquet does?"

"You talk etymology and not morality; I say that we modernEpicureans are indifferent citizens."

"Oh!" cried La Fontaine, "if we become bad citizens, it isnot through following the maxims of our master. Listen toone of his principal aphorisms."

"I - will."

"Pray for good leaders."

"Well?"

"Well! what does M. Fouquet say to us every day? `When shallwe be governed?' Does he say so? Come, Conrart, be frank."

"He says so, that is true."

"Well, that is a doctrine of Epicurus."

"Yes; but that is a little seditious, observe."

"What! seditious to wish to be governed by good heads orleaders?"

"Certainly, when those who govern are bad."

"Patience, I have a reply for all."

"Even for what I have just said to you?"

"Listen! would you submit to those who govern ill? Oh! it iswritten: Cacos politeuousi. You grant me the text?"

"Pardieu! I think so. Do you know, you speak Greek as wellas AEsop did, my dear La Fontaine."

"Is there any wickedness in that, my dear Conrart?"

"God forbid I should say so."

"Then let us return to M. Fouquet. What did he repeat to usall the day? Was it not this? `What a cuistre is thatMazarin! what an ass! what a leech! We must, however, submitto the fellow.' Now, Conrart, did he say so, or did he not?"

"I confess that he said it, and even perhaps too often."

"Like Epicurus, my friend, still like Epicurus; I repeat, weare Epicureans, and that is very amusing."

"Yes, but I am afraid there will rise up, by the side of us,a sect like that of Epictetus, you know him well; thephilosopher of Hieropolis, he who called bread luxury,vegetables prodigality, and clear water drunkenness; he who,being beaten by his master, said to him, grumbling a littleit is true, but without being angry, `I will lay a wager youhave broken my leg!' - and who won his wager."

"He was a goose, that fellow Epictetus."

"Granted, but he might easily become the fashion by onlychanging his name into that of Colbert."

"Bah!" replied La Fontaine, "that is impossible. Never willyou find Colbert in Epictetus."

"You are right, I shall find - Coluber there, at the most."

"Ah! you are beaten, Conrart; you are reduced to a play uponwords. M. Arnaud pretends that I have no logic; I have morethan M. Nicolle."

"Yes," replied Conrart, "you have logic, but you are aJansenist."

This peroration was hailed with a boisterous shout oflaughter; by degrees the promenaders had been attracted bythe exclamations of the two disputants around the arborunder which they were arguing. The discussion had beenreligiously listened to, and Fouquet himself, scarcely ableto suppress his laughter, had given an example ofmoderation. But with the denouement of the scene he threwoff all restraint, and laughed aloud. Everybody laughed ashe did, and the two philosophers were saluted with unanimousfelicitations. La Fontaine, however, was declared conqueror,on account of his profound erudition and his irrefragablelogic. Conrart obtained the compensation due to anunsuccessful combatant; he was praised for the loyalty ofhis intentions, and the purity of his conscience.

At the moment when this jollity was manifesting itself bythe most lively demonstrations, when the ladies werereproaching the two adversaries with not having admittedwomen into the system of Epicurean happiness, Gourville wasseen hastening from the other end of the garden, approachingFouquet, and detaching him, by his presence alone, from thegroup. The superintendent preserved on his face the smileand character of carelessness; but scarcely was he out ofsight than he threw off the mask.

"Well!" said he, eagerly, "where is Pellisson! What is hedoing?"

"Pellisson has returned from Paris."

"Has he brought back the prisoners?"

"He has not even seen the concierge of the prison."

"What! did he not tell him he came from me?"

"He told him so, but the concierge sent him this reply: `Ifany one came to me from M. Fouquet, he would have a letterfrom M. Fouquet.'"

"Oh!" cried the latter, "if a letter is all he wants - - "

"It is useless, monsieur!" said Pellisson, showing himselfat the corner of the little wood, "useless! Go yourself, andspeak in your own name."

"You are right. I will go in, as if to work; let the horsesremain harnessed, Pellisson. Entertain my friends,Gourville."

"One last word of advice, monseigneur," replied the latter.

"Speak, Gourville."

"Do not go to the concierge save at the last minute; it isbrave, but it is not wise. Excuse me, Monsieur Pellisson, ifI am not of the same opinion as you; but take my advice,monseigneur, send again a message to this concierge, - heis a worthy man, but do not carry it yourself."

"I will think of it," said Fouquet; "besides, we have allthe night before us."

"Do not reckon too much on time; were the hours we havetwice as many as they are, they would not be too much,"replied Pellisson; "it is never a fault to arrive too soon."

"Adieu!" said the superintendent; "come with me, Pellisson.Gourville, I commend my guests to your care." And he setoff. The Epicureans did not perceive that the head of theschool had left them; the violins continued playing allnight long.