ABSTRACT
From the tip of the backbone 2 of these continents, from the farthest lowlands, I have wandered for a hundred moons since quitting my father's palace, forever pursued by my mad desire to find “her who will understand." With jewels I tempted many beautiful women; with kisses tried I to draw out the secrets of their hearts, with deeds of daring I won their admiration. [He reviews one after another the women he has known.] Chi-ta, the princess of my own race . . . she was a fool, vain as a peacock, without a thought in her head except trinkets and perfumes. Ta-nan, the peasant girl . . . bah! a perfect sow, nothing but a bust and a belly, thinking of nothing but pleas ure. And then Ki-ma, the priestess, a mere parrot, repeating the empty phrases learnt from the priests, all for show, without real understanding or sincerity, mistrustful, affected, hypocritical! . . . Alas! Not one who understands me, not one who resembles me or has a soul that is sister to mine. There is not one among them all who has known my soul, not one who could read my thoughts-far from it; not one capable of seeking the shining summits with me, or of spelling out with me the superhuman word Love!
