--Dear Mr. Prometheus--as I remarked a while ago, continued Cocles, this restaurant invites conversation, and nothing will convince me that your strange name is the only thing that distinguishes you; if you have done nothing, you are surely going to do something. What are you capable of doing? What is the most distinguishing thing about you? What have you that nobody else possesses? Why do you call yourself Prometheus? Drowned beneath this flow of questions Prometheus bent his head and slowly and in a serious voice stammered...: --What have I, gentlemen?--What have I?--Oh, I have an eagle. --A what? --Eagle--Vulture perhaps--opinions differ. --An eagle! That’s funny!--an eagle ... where is he? --You insist on seeing it, said Prometheus. --Yes, they cried, if it is not too indiscreet. * * * * * Then Prometheus, quite forgetting where he was, suddenly started up and gave a great cry, a call to his eagle. And this stupefying thing happened: HISTORY OF THE EAGLE A bird which from afar looked enormous, but which seen close to was not so very big after all, darkened for a moment the sky above the boulevard and sped like a whirlwind towards the café; bursting through the window, it put out Cocles’ eye with one stroke of its wing and then, chirruping as it did so, tenderly indeed but imperiously, fell with a swoop upon Prometheus’ right side. And Prometheus forthwith undid his waistcoat and offered his liver to the bird. V There was a great disturbance. Voices now mingled confusedly, for some other people had come into the restaurant. --But for goodness’ sake, take care! cried Cocles. His remark was unheard beneath the loud cries of: --That! an eagle! I don’t think!! Look at that poor gaunt bird! That ... an eagle!--Not much!! at the most, a conscience. The fact is that the great eagle was pitiful to see--thin and mangy, and with drooping wings as it greedily devoured its miserable pittance, the poor bird seemed as if it had not eaten for three days. Others, nevertheless, made a fuss and whispered insinuatingly to Prometheus: But, sir, I hope you do not think that this eagle distinguishes you in any way. An eagle, shall I tell you?--an eagle, we all have one. --But ... said another. --But we do not bring them to Paris, continued another.--In Paris it is not the fashion. Eagles are a nuisance. You see what it has already done. If it amuses you to let it eat your liver you are at liberty to do so; but I must tell you that it is a painful sight. When you do it you should hide yourself. Prometheus, confused, murmured: Excuse me, gentlemen,--Oh! I am really sorry. What can I do? --You ought to get rid of it before you come in, sir. And some said: Smother it. And others: Sell it. The newspaper offices are there for nothing else, sir. And in the tumult which followed no one noticed Damocles, who suddenly asked the waiter for the bill. The waiter gave him the following: