“You strike me as being an observer!  You fool!  Take care; it is no business of yours.  You have one thing to do—­to love Dea.  You have two causes of happiness—­the first is, that the crowd sees your muzzle; the second is, that Dea does not.  You have no right to the happiness you possess, for no woman who saw your mouth would consent to your kiss; and that mouth which has made your fortune, and that face which has given you riches, are not your own.  You were not born with that countenance.  It was borrowed from the grimace which is at the bottom of the infinite.  You have stolen your mask from the devil.  You are hideous; be satisfied with having drawn that prize in the lottery.  There are in this world (and a very good thing too) the happy by right and the happy by luck.  You are happy by luck.  You are in a cave wherein a star is enclosed.  The poor star belongs to you.  Do not seek to leave the cave, and guard your star, O spider!  You have in your web the carbuncle, Venus.  Do me the favour to be satisfied.  I see your dreams are troubled.  It is idiotic of you.  Listen; I am going to speak to you in the language of true poetry.  Let Dea eat beefsteaks and mutton chops, and in six months she will be as strong as a Turk; marry her immediately, give her a child, two children, three children, a long string of children.  That is what I call philosophy.  Moreover, it is happiness, which is no folly.  To have children is a glimpse of heaven.  Have brats—­wipe them, blow their noses, dirt them, wash them, and put them to bed.  Let them swarm about you.  If they laugh, it is well; if they howl, it is better—­to cry is to live.  Watch them suck at six months, crawl at a year, walk at two, grow tall at fifteen, fall in love at twenty.  He who has these joys has everything For myself, I lacked the advantage; and that is the reason why I am a brute.  God, a composer of beautiful poems and the first of men of letters, said to his fellow-workman, Moses, ’Increase and multiply.’  Such is the text.  Multiply, you beast!  As to the world, it is as it is; you cannot make nor mar it.  Do not trouble yourself about it.  Pay no attention to what goes on outside.  Leave the horizon alone.  A comedian is made to be looked at, not to look.  Do you know what there is outside?  The happy by right.  You, I repeat, are the happy by chance.  You are the pickpocket of the happiness of which they are the proprietors.  They are the legitimate possessors; you are the intruder.  You live in concubinage with luck.  What do you want that you have not already?  Shibboleth help me!  This fellow is a rascal.  To multiply himself by Dea would be pleasant, all the same.  Such happiness is like a swindle.  Those above who possess happiness by privilege do not like folks below them to have so much enjoyment.  If they ask you what right you have to be happy, you will not know what to answer.  You have no patent, and they have.  Jupiter, Allah, Vishnu, Sabaoth, it does not matter who, has given