“We have it from Porphyrius. An absurd remark, if you like. But the absurd is the intellectually honourable; and nothing can be more pitiable than the reproach of absurdity, levelled against the mind as it asserts its dignity against nature, and refuses to abdicate before her.⁠—Have you heard of the Lisbon earthquake, Engineer?”

“An earthquake? No⁠—I see no newspapers up here⁠—”

“You misunderstand me. En passant , let me say it is a pity, and very indicative of the spirit of this place, that you neglect to read the papers. But you misunderstand me, the convulsion of nature to which I refer is not modern. It took place some hundred and fifty years ago.”

“I see. Oh, wait⁠—I have it. I have read that Goethe said to his servant, that night in his bedchamber⁠—”