Crack, crack----crack, crack----crack, crack----so this is _Paris!_ quoth I (continuing in the same mood)--and this is _Paris!_----humph! ----_Paris!_ cried I, repeating the name the third time----
The first, the finest, the most brilliant----
The streets however are nasty.
But it looks, I suppose, better than it smells----crack, crack----crack, crack----what a fuss thou makest! --as if it concerned the good people to be informed, that a man with pale face and clad in black, had the honour to be driven into _Paris_ at nine o'clock at night, by a postilion in a tawny yellow jerkin, turned up with red calamanco--crack, crack----crack, crack----crack, crack, ----I wish thy whip----
----But 'tis the spirit of thy nation; so crack--crack on.
Ha! ----and no one gives the wall! ----but in the SCHOOL of URBANITY herself, if the walls are besh-t--how can you do otherwise?
And prithee when do they light the lamps? What? --never in the summer months! ----Ho! 'tis the time of sallads. ----O rare! sallad and soup--soup and sallad--sallad and soup, _encore_----
----'Tis _too much_ for sinners.
Now I cannot bear the barbarity of it; how can that unconscionable coachman talk so much bawdy to that lean horse? don't you see, friend, the streets are so villainously narrow, that there is not room in all _Paris_ to turn a wheelbarrow? In the grandest city of the whole world, it would not have been amiss, if they had been left a thought wider; nay, were it only so much in every single street, as that a man might know (was it only for satisfaction) on which side of it he was walking.
One--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--nine--ten. --Ten cook's shops! and twice the number of barbers! and all within three minutes driving! one would think that all the cooks in the world, on some great merry-meeting with the barbers, by joint consent had said --Come, let us all go live at _Paris_: the _French_ love good eating----they are all _gourmands_----we shall rank high; if their god is their belly----their cooks must be gentlemen: and forasmuch as _the periwig maketh the man_, and the periwig-maker maketh the periwig--_ergo_, would the barbers say, we shall rank higher still--we shall be above you all--we shall be _Capitouls_[7.2] at least--_pardi!_ we shall all wear swords----
--And so, one would swear (that is, by candle light, --but there is no depending upon it) they continue to do, to this day.
[Footnote 7.2: Chief Magistrate in Toulouse, &c. &c. &c.]
Crack, crack - crack, crack - crack, crack - 'so this is Paris!' quoth I (in the same mood). 'Humph! Paris!
'The first, the finest, the most brilliant-
'The streets however are nasty.
'But I suppose it looks better than it smells.'
Crack, crack - crack, crack - what a fuss thou makest! as if the good people needed to be informed that a man with a pale face and clad in black was driven into Paris at nine o'clock by a postilion in a tawny yellow jerkin-
Crack, crack - crack, crack - I wish thy whip-
But 'tis the spirit of thy nation; so crack on.
Ha! - and no one gives you space by the wall! but if the walls are besh _t, - how can you do otherwise?
And prithee when do they light the lamps? What? never in the summer months! - Ho! 'tis the time of salads. O rare! salad and soup - soup and salad - salad and soup, encore-
How can that coachman swear so lewdly to that lean horse? don't you see, friend, the streets are so villainously narrow, that there is not room to turn a wheelbarrow? In the grandest city of the world, it would not have been amiss if they had been a touch wider; if only so that a man in the street might know on which side of it he was walking.
- Ten cooks' shops! and twenty barbers! all within three minutes' driving! one would think that all the cooks and barbers, by joint consent, had said 'Come, let us all go live at Paris: the French love good eating - we shall rank high; if their god is their belly - their cooks must be gentlemen: and as the periwig maketh the man, and the wig-maker maketh the periwig - therefore,' the barbers would say, 'we shall rank higher still, and all wear swords-'
And one would swear they continue to do so, (as far as one can tell by candle-light,) to this day.
Book 7 - Chapter 17