“I was thunderstruck: I placed a piece of money in her hand, and hastened away.
"You were happy!" I exclaimed, as I returned quickly to the town, "'as gay and contented as a man can be!' " God of heaven! and is this the destiny of man? Is he only happy before he has acquired his reason, or after he has lost it?
Unfortunate being! And yet I envy your fate: I envy the delusion to which you are a victim. You go forth with joy to gather flowers for your princess,—in winter,—and grieve when you can find none, and cannot understand why they do not grow.”