I believe he’s staring... that he dares to stare at my nose, that Ruffian! What do you say? It’s useless?...I know, ah yes! But one cannot fight hoping only for success! No! No: it’s still more sweet if it’s all in vain! - Who are all you, there! – Thousands, you claim? Ah, I know you all, you old enemies of mine! Deceit! There! There! Ha! And Compromise! Prejudice, Cowardice! ... That I make a treaty? Never, never! – Ah! Are you there, Stupidity? - I know that you’ll lay me low in the end. No matter! I fight on! I fight! I fight again! Yes you take all from me: the laurel and the rose! Take them! Despite you there’s something though I keep, that tonight, as I go to meet my Deity, will brush the blue threshold beneath my feet, something I bear, in spite of you all, that’s free of hurt, or stain, and that’s... My panache.
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