Prometheus was a little tired. The waiter continued: Yes, tables for three, that is what I found the easiest: three gentlemen arrive; they are introduced; they are introduced (if they wish it, of course), for in my restaurant before dining you must give your name; then say what you do; so much the worse if you deceive each other. Then you sit down (not I); you talk (not I, of course)--but I put you in sympathy; I listen; I scrutinize; I direct the conversation. At the end of dinner I know three inner men, three personalities! They, no. I, you understand, I listen, I bring into relation; they submit to the relationship.... You will ask me: What do you gain by this? Oh, nothing at all! It pleases me to create relationships.... Oh! not for me!... It is what one could call an absolutely gratuitous act.
Prometheus appeared a little tired. The waiter continued: A gratuitous act! Does this convey nothing to you?--To me it seems extraordinary. I thought for a long time that this was the one thing that distinguished man from the animals--a gratuitous act. I called man an animal capable of a gratuitous act;--and then afterwards I thought the contrary; that man is the only being incapable of acting gratuitously;--gratuitously! just think; without reason--yes, I hear--shall we say without motive; incapable! then this idea began to fidget me. I said to myself: why does he do this? why does he do that? ... and yet I am not a determinist ... but that reminds me of an anecdote:
--I have a friend, my lord, you will hardly believe me, who he is a miglionaire. He is also intelligent. He said to himself: A gratuitous act? how to do it? And understand this does not only mean an act that brings no return.... No, but gratuitous: an act that has no motive. Do you understand? no interest, no passion, nothing. The act disinterested; born of itself; the act without aim, thus without master; the free act; the act Autochthon!
--Listen well, said the waiter. My friend went out one morning, taking with him a bank-note of £20 in an envelope and a blow prepared in his hand.
The point was to find somebody without choosing him. So he drops his handkerchief in the street, and, to the man who picks it up (evidently kindly since he picked it up), the miglionaire: