xvm FASTIDIOUS LUXURY 131 



stinking. &quot; He was taken out of the water this day, 

 I assure you.&quot; &quot; I cannot trust you in a matter of 

 such moment. I must have the evidence of my 

 own senses ; let the creature be brought here and 

 breathe out his life before my eyes.&quot; Such a pitch 

 of fastidiousness has the gourmands palate reached 

 that they will not taste a fish unless they have seen 

 it swimming and throbbing in the very banqueting 

 room. 



The more skill our jaded luxury has had placed 4 

 at its disposal, the more refined and elegant the 

 devices that in its frenzy it day by day invents ; it 

 spurns everything that is common. We used to 

 hear the remark, &quot; Nothing can surpass a mullet 

 caught on the rocks &quot; ; but now it runs, &quot; Nothing 

 equals the beauty of an expiring mullet. Let me 

 hold in my own hands the glass vase, to see him 

 jump and quiver.&quot; After long and fulsome praise 5 

 has been lavished on him, he is taken out of his 

 transparent pond. Then each guest shows off his 

 experience of such scenes by pointing out the hues 

 to his fellows. &quot; Look how the red bursts forth, 

 deeper than any carmine ; look at the veins he has 

 along his sides : see, you would think his belly was 

 covered with blood ; what a gleam of dark blue shot 

 forth just under the brow ! Now he is stretching 

 himself out, and sinking to a uniform pallid hue ! &quot; 

 Not one of these selfish fellows would sit by a dying 

 friend s bedside, none of them can endure the sight 

 of a father s death a sight they have dearly longed 

 for. How few will attend the funeral of a relative ! 6 

 The last hour of brothers and friends is shunned by 

 them ; they are all in a hurry to be in at the death 

 of a mullet ! For he has a delicate beauty, don t 

 you know, that nothing can surpass. My impatience 



