“See Mike Fletcher, know him, understand him, and imagine what he would have been in the eighteenth century, the glory of adventure he would have gathered.  His life to-day is a mean parody upon an easily realizable might-have-been.  So vital is the idea in him that his life to-day is the reflection of a life that burned in another age too ardently to die with death.  In another age Mike would have outdone Casanova.  Casanova!—­what a magnificent Casanova he would have been!  Casanova is to me the most fascinating of characters.  He was everything—­a frequenter of taverns and palaces, a necromancer.  His audacity and unscrupulousness, his comedies, his immortal memoirs!  What was that delightful witty remark he made to some stupid husband who lay on the ground, complaining that Casanova hadn’t fought fairly?  You remember? it was in an avenue of chestnut trees, approaching a town.  Ha!  I have forgotten.  Mike has all that this man had—­love of adventure, daring, courage, strength, beauty, skill.  For Mike would have made a unique swordsman.  Have you ever seen him ride?  Have you ever seen him shoot?  I have seen him knock a dozen pigeons over in succession.  Have you ever seen him play billiards?  He often makes a break of a hundred.  Have you ever seen him play tennis?  He is the best man we have in the Temple.  And a poet!  Have you ever heard him tell of the poem he is writing?  The most splendid subject.  He says that neither Goethe nor Hugo ever thought of a better.”

“You may include self-esteem in your list of his qualities.”

“A platitude!  Self-esteem is synonymous to genius.  Still, I do not suppose he would in any circumstances have been a great poet; but there is enough of the poet about him to enhance and complete his Don Juan genius.”

“You would have to mend his broken nose before you could cite him as a model Don Juan.”

“On the contrary, by breaking his nose chance emphasized nature’s intention; for a broken nose is the element of strangeness so essential in modern beauty, or shall I say modern attractiveness?  But see that slim figure in hose, sword on thigh, wrapped in rich mantle, arriving on horseback with Liperello!  Imagine the castle balcony, and the pale sky, green and rose, pensive as her dream, languid as her attitude.  Then again, the grand staircase with courtiers bowing solemnly; or maybe the wave lapping the marble, the gondola shooting through the shadow!  What encounters, what assignations, what disappearances, what sudden returnings!  So strong is the love idea in him, that it has suscitated all that is inherent and essential in the character.  It sent him to Boulogne so that he might fight a duel; and the other day a nun left her convent for him.  Curious atavism, curious recrudescence of a dead idea of man!  Say, is it his fault if his pleasures are limited to clandestine visits; his fame to a summons to appear in a divorce case; his danger to that most pitiful of modern ignominies—­five shillings a week? ...  Bah! this age has much to answer for.”