"I insist on his leaving the house."--"I am leaving.... But I have given no ground of offence."--"Pardon me; we invite the abbe and...." It was he who was wrong to invite the abbe, while at the same time he was receiving me, and with me so many other creatures of my sort.--"Come, friend Rameau, you must beg the abbe's pardon."--"I shall not know what to do with his pardon."--"Come, come, all will be right."--They take me by the hand, and drag me towards the abbe's chair; I look at him with a kind of admiring wonder, for who before ever asked pardon of the abbe? "All this is very absurd, abbe; confess, is it not?" And then I laugh, and the abbe laughs too. So that is my forgiveness on that side; but I had next to approach the other, and that was a very different thing. I forget exactly how it was that I framed my apology.--"Sir, here is the madman...."--"He has made me suffer too long; I wish to hear no more about him."--"He is sorry."--"Yes, I am very sorry."--"It shall not happen again."--"Until the first rascal...."--I do not know whether he was in one of those days of ill-humour when mademoiselle herself dreads to go near him, or whether he misunderstood what I said, or whether I said something wrong: things were worse than before. Good heavens, does he not know me? Does he not know that I am like children, and that there are some circumstances in which I let anything and everything escape me? And then, God help me, am I not to have a moment of relief? Why, it would wear out a puppet made of steel, to keep pulling the string from night to morning, and from morning to night! I must amuse them, of course, that is the condition; but I must now and then amuse myself. In the midst of these distractions there came into my head a fatal idea, an idea that gave me confidence, that inspired me with pride and insolence: it was that they could not do without me, and that I was indispensable. _I._--Yes, I daresay that you are very useful to them, but that they are still more useful to you. You will not find as good a house every day; but they, for one madman who falls short, will find a hundred to take his place. _He._--A hundred madmen like me, sir philosopher; they are not so common, I can tell you! Flat fools--yes. People are harder to please in folly than in talent or virtue. I am a rarity in my own kind, a great rarity. Now that they have me no longer, what are they doing? They find time as heavy as if they were dogs. I am an inexhaustible bagful of impertinences. Every minute I had some fantastic notion that made them laugh till they cried; I was a whole Bedlam in myself. _I._--Well, at any rate you had bed and board, coat and breeches, shoes, and a pistole a month.