--Oh! I do not know exactly;--but he has been talked about in the papers; and a subscription has been opened in his favour. --And what does he do with it? --He is an artful fellow. With the money collected he thinks of founding a hospital. --A hospital? --Yes, a small hospital for the one eyed. He has made himself director of it. --Ah bah! cried Prometheus; you interest me enormously. --I hoped you would be interested, said the waiter. --And tell me ... the Miglionaire? --Oh! he, he is a wonderful chap!--If you imagine that all that upsets him! He is like me: he observes.... If it would amuse you, I will introduce you to him--when you come out of this.... --Well, by the way, why am I here? Prometheus said at last. What am I accused of? Do you know, waiter, you seem to know everything? --My goodness no, pretended the waiter. All that I know is that it is only preliminary detention. After they have condemned you, you will know. --Well, so much the better! said Prometheus. I always prefer to know. --Good-bye, said the waiter; it is late. With you it is astonishing how the time flies.... But tell me: your eagle? What has become of him? --Bless me! I have thought no more of him, said Prometheus. But when the waiter had gone Prometheus began to think of his eagle. HE MUST INCREASE BUT I MUST DECREASE And as Prometheus was bored in the evening, he called his eagle.--The eagle came. --I have waited a long time for thee, said Prometheus. Why didst thou not call me before? replied the eagle. For the first time Prometheus looked at his eagle, casually perched upon the twisted bars of the dungeon. In the golden light of the sunset he appeared more spiritless than ever; he was grey, ugly, stunted, surly, resigned, and miserable; he seemed too feeble to fly, seeing which Prometheus cried with pity. --Faithful bird, he said to him, dost thou suffer?--tell me: what is the matter? --I am hungry, said the eagle. --Eat, said Prometheus, uncovering his liver. The bird ate. --I suffer, said Prometheus. But the eagle said nothing more that day. II The next day at sunrise Prometheus longed for his eagle; he called it from the depth of the reddening dawn, and as the sun rose the eagle appeared. He had three more feathers and Prometheus sobbed with tenderness. --How late thou comest, he said, caressing his feathers. --It is because I cannot yet fly very fast, said the bird. I skim the ground.... --Why? --I am so weak! --What dost thou want to make thee fly faster? --Thy liver. --Very well, eat. The next day the eagle had eight more feathers and a few days after he arrived before the dawn. Prometheus himself became very thin. --Tell me of the world, he said to the eagle. What has happened to all the others? --Oh! now I fly very high, replied the eagle; I see nothing but the sky and thee. His wings had grown slowly bigger. --Lovely bird, what hast thou to tell me this morning? --I have carried my hunger through the air.