The waiter:--Is it not true that you are very rich?
The Miglionaire, half turning towards Prometheus:--I am richer than
you can ever imagine. You belong to me; he belongs to me; everything
belongs to me.--You think I am a banker; I am really something quite
different. My effect on Paris is hidden, but it is none the less
important. It is hidden because it is not continuous. Yes, I have
above all the spirit of initiative. I launch; then, once the affair is
set going, I leave it; I have nothing more to do with it.
The waiter:--Isn’t it true that your actions are gratuitous?
The Miglionaire:--It is only I, only a person whose fortune is
infinite, who can act with absolute disinterestedness; for man it is
impossible. From that comes my love of gambling; I do not gamble for
gain, you understand--I gamble for the pleasure of gambling. What could
I gain that I do not possess already? Even time.... Do you know my age?
Prometheus and the waiter:--You appear still young, sir.
The Miglionaire:--Well, do not interrupt me, Prometheus.--Yes, I have a
passion for gambling. My game is to lend to men. I lend, but it is not
for pleasure. I lend, but it is sinking the capital. I lend, but with
an air of giving.--I do not wish it known that I lend. I play, but I
hide my game. I experiment; I play, as a Dutchman sows his seed; as he
plants a secret bulb; that which I lend to men, that which I plant in
man, I amuse myself by watching it grow; without that, man would be so
empty!--Let me tell you my most recent experience. You will help me to
analyse it. Just listen, you will understand later.
I went down into the street with the idea of making some one suffer for
a gift I would make to another; to make one happy by the suffering of
the other. A blow and a note of £20 was all that was necessary. To one
the blow, and to the other the note. Is it clear? What is less clear is
the way of giving them.
--I know it already, interrupted Prometheus.
--Oh, really, you know of it, said Zeus.
--I have met both Damocles and Cocles; it is precisely about them that
I have come to speak to you:--Damocles looks and calls for you, he is
very anxious; he is ill;--for goodness’ sake go and see him.
--Sir, stop--said Zeus--I have no need of advice from anybody.
--What did I tell you? said the waiter.
Prometheus was going away, but suddenly turned again: Sir, pardon me.
Excuse an indiscreet question. Oh! show it to me, I beg you! I should
love so much to see it....
--What?
--Your eagle.
--But I have no eagle, sir.
--No eagle? He has no eagle! But....
--Not so much of one as I can hold in the hollow of my hand. Eagles
(and he laughed), eagles! It is I who give them.
Prometheus was stupefied.
--Do you know what people say? the waiter asked the banker.
--What do they say?
--That you are God.
--I let them say so, said he.