All of a sudden, Blondeau, who must be the malicious nose alluded to by Boileau, skipped to the letter L. L is my letter.
I am from Meaux, and my name is Lesgle."
"L'Aigle!" interrupted Marius, "what fine name!"
"Monsieur, Blondeau came to this fine name, and called: `Laigle!' I reply:
`Present!' Then Blondeau gazes at me, with the gentleness of a tiger, and says to me:
`lf you are Pontmercy, you are not Laigle.'
A phrase which has a disobliging air for you, but which was lugubrious only for me.
That said, he crossed me off."
Marius exclaimed:--
"I am mortified, sir--"
"First of all," interposed Laigle, "I demand permission to embalm Blondeau in a few phrases of deeply felt eulogium.
I will assume that he is dead.
There will be no great change required in his gauntness, in his pallor, in his coldness, and in his smell. And I say:
`Erudimini qui judicatis terram.
Here lies Blondeau, Blondeau the Nose, Blondeau Nasica, the ox of discipline, bos disciplinae, the bloodhound of the password, the angel of the roll-call, who was upright, square exact, rigid, honest, and hideous. God crossed him off as he crossed me off.'"
Marius resumed:--
"I am very sorry--"
"Young man," said Laigle de Meaux, "let this serve you as a lesson. In future, be exact."
"I really beg you a thousand pardons."
"Do not expose your neighbor to the danger of having his name erased again."