Little Poems in Prose

which makes one think of autumn suns, the beauty of well-ripened women, and Saint Mar- tin’s Summers. None of those who were present in the tav- ern of the Rue de la Villa-Hermosa will forget with what petulance the painter gave up his waistcoat to the poet, so well did he under- stand what a fine thing it was to sing of the poor dogs. Just so did a magnificent Italian tyrant in the Good Age offer to the divine Aretino either a dagger crusted with precious stones or a mantle fit to wear at Court in exchange for a well-wrought sonnet or a curious satiric poem. And every time that the poet puts on the painter’s waistcoat, it makes him think of the good dogs, the philosophic dogs, the Summers of Saint Martin and the beauty of well-ripened women.