Lucien felt profoundly discouraged; he was damp with chilly perspiration; a glowing glance from Louise, to whom he turned, gave him courage to persevere to the end, but this poet’s heart was bleeding from countless wounds. “Do you find this very amusing, Fifine?” inquired the wizened Lili, who perhaps had expected some kind of gymnastics. “Don’t ask me what I think, dear; I cannot keep my eyes open when any one begins to read aloud.” “I hope that Naïs will not give us poetry often in the evenings,” said Francis. “If I am obliged to attend while somebody reads aloud after dinner, it upsets my digestion.” “Poor dearie,” whispered Zéphirine, “take a glass of eau _sucrée_.” “It was very well declaimed,” said Alexandre, “but I like whist better myself.” After this dictum, which passed muster as a joke from the play on the word “whist,” several card-players were of the opinion that the reader’s voice needed a rest, and on this pretext one or two couples slipped away into the card-room. But Louise, and the Bishop, and pretty Laure de Rastignac besought Lucien to continue, and this time he caught the attention of his audience with Chénier’s spirited reactionary _Iambes_. Several persons, carried away by his impassioned delivery, applauded the reading without understanding the sense. People of this sort are impressed by vociferation, as a coarse palate is tickled by strong spirits. During the interval, as they partook of ices, Zéphirine despatched Francis to examine the volume, and informed her neighbor Amélie that the poetry was in print. Amélie brightened visibly. “Why, that is easily explained,” said she. “M. de Rubempré works for a printer. It is as if a pretty woman should make her own dresses,” she added, looking at Lolotte. “He printed his poetry himself!” said the women among themselves. “Then, why does he call himself M. de Rubempré?” inquired Jacques. “If a noble takes a handicraft, he ought to lay his name aside.” “So he did as a matter of fact,” said Zizine, “but his name was plebeian, and he took his mother’s name, which is noble.” “Well, if his verses are printed, we can read them for ourselves,” said Astolphe.