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Updated: May 7, 2025
This did not, however, prevent me from speaking honorably of him and his house, whilst he continually expressed himself relative to me in the most insulting terms, calling me that 'petit cuistre': the little college pedant, or servitor in a college, without, however, being able to charge me with having done either to himself or any person to whom he was attached the most trifling injury.
"A clown with a word would be worth a dozen of him. Adieu!" "Monsieur, I have the honor to present you my respects." "Cuistre!" said D'Artagnan to himself, "the fellow is unbearable." He gave another look up to the house, turned his horse's head, and set off like a man who has nothing either annoying or embarrassing in his mind.
Do you know, you speak Greek as well as Aesop did, my dear La Fontaine." "Is there any wickedness in that, my dear Conrart?" "God forbid I should say so." "Then let us return to M. Fouquet. What did he repeat to us all the day? Was it not this? 'What a cuistre is that Mazarin! what an ass! what a leech! We must, however, submit to that fellow. Now, Conrart, did he say so, or did he not?"
Through this extreme perversity, the cuistre spoils his own mental instrument; thenceforth he employs it as he likes, as his passions dictate, believing that he serves truth in serving these. Now, his first passion, his principal passion, is literary vanity.
Do you know, you speak Greek as well as AEsop did, my dear La Fontaine." "Is there any wickedness in that, my dear Conrart?" "God forbid I should say so." "Then let us return to M. Fouquet. What did he repeat to us all the day? Was it not this? 'What a cuistre is that Mazarin! what an ass! what a leech! We must, however, submit to the fellow. Now, Conrart, did he say so, or did he not?"
This did not, however, prevent me from speaking honorably of him and his house, whilst he continually expressed himself relative to me in the most insulting terms, calling me that 'petit cuistre': the little college pedant, or servitor in a college, without, however, being able to charge me with having done either to himself or any person to whom he was attached the most trifling injury.
If I must tell you the truth, Porthos, that poet disgraces you." "Eh! my friend; but what saves us is that he is not here as a poet." "As what, then, is he?" "As printer. And you make me remember, I have a word to say to the cuistre." "Say it, then."
If I must tell you the truth, Porthos, that poet disgraces you." "Eh! my friend; but what saves us is that he is not here as a poet." "As what, then, is he?" "As printer. And you make me remember, I have a word to say to the cuistre." "Say it, then."
I must have had hold, in this mere sovereign sample of the accidentally, the quite unconsciously and unpretentiously, the all negligibly or superfluously handed-down, of a rare case of the provincial and academic cuistre; though even while I record it I see the good man as too helpless and unaggressive, too smothered in his poor facts of person and circumstance, of overgrown time of life alone, to incur with justness the harshness of classification.
In this artificial and declamatory tragedy of the Revolution he takes the leading part; the maniac and the barbarian slowly retire in the background on the appearance of the cuistre; Marat and Danton finally become effaced, or efface themselves, and the stage is left to Robespierre who attracts all the attention.
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