There is nothing that penetrates the heart, and prepares it for
love, like music.
The curtain had risen, and _Horace_ had recounted to _Juliano_
his adventure with the beautiful unknown, without exciting the
slightest interest on the part of Eusebe. The heroes of Scribe
talked of love, a something unknown to the provincial, who would
have been wholly ignorant of the word, had he not met with it in
pronouncing his prayers.
The entrance of the two masked women made a strange impression on
him. His heart beat violently, the blood rushed to his temples, a
cold, trembling sensation pervaded his whole frame, and when the
woman who personated _Angèle_ removed her black velvet mask, he
experienced one of those indescribable sensations of delight which
nature accords to those only who have not sinned against her.
Trembling, and his eyes intently fixed on the lips of the
cantatrice, Eusebe Martin forgot the universe: he felt his blood
coursing rapidly through his veins, and his heart expand within his
breast.
He remained in his seat between the acts. One thought alone
occupied him: should he see the beautiful creature again who had
produced such a magic effect on him? He closed his eyes, in order
the better to see her in imagination.
Meanwhile the curtain rose for the second time. During the first
three scenes _Angèle_ did not appear. Her absence was the first
real disappointment Eusebe had ever experienced. Up to that time
his life had been as calm and monotonous as the surface of a lake.
All at once his heart leaped with joy: she had just entered. Pale
and agitated, he did not breathe freely until the good _Jacinthe_
had promised that she would do all in her power to conceal _Angèle_.
“Excellent woman!” cried Eusebe.
His neighbor at the right could not help smiling, while the lean
gentleman on his left gave vent to his feelings by grumbling.
Eusebe paid no attention to these demonstrations. His chin resting
on his hands, which he had placed on the back of the chair in front
of him, he watched intently the impossible action of the piece.
He had already forgotten that what he saw was only fiction. His
joy or grief augmented or diminished with the development of the
plot. If _Angèle_ succeeded in extricating herself from one of her
thousand difficulties, he breathed again. On the contrary, when
a new disaster befell the poor abbess, the heart of Eusebe bled
for her, and his eyes filled with tears. Twenty times was he on
the point of springing upon the stage and saying, “I will defend
you: don’t be afraid.” Fortunately, _Angèle_ succeeded without his
assistance in escaping the snares M. Scribe had prepared for her.
What would the audience have said, what would the police have
done, if Eusebe had executed his design? Nothing, probably. The
public are amused by madmen, and the police interfere only in cases
with which they are familiar. By remaining in his seat, our poor
provincial caused himself to be put out-of-doors.
The curtain rose for the third time. _Angèle_ had just arrived at
the convent, and sang the famous rondeau--
“Ah! what a night!”
She detailed pathetically the perils she had encountered during
the frightful night,--recounted her adventures with the drunken
soldiers, the thief, who had robbed her of her golden cross, and
the student, who was content to steal only a kiss.
The neighbor at the left, a fat man, with a good-natured
physiognomy, leaned towards Eusebe and said,--
“How confoundedly stupid! She has succeeded in escaping
unperceived,--a miracle!--and now, instead of going to her cell
and changing her costume, she remains there like a fool to sing. I
would give a trifle if they would come and take her by surprise.”
“You are a wretch!” cried Eusebe. “I am half inclined to strangle
you.”
“You are extremely insolent, sir!”
“You are a coward!”
“Chut! chut!” “Silence!” “Out with him!” suggested several voices.
The fat gentleman grasped at the young man’s collar; but Eusebe
foiled his design by planting a heavy blow full in his face, which
inconvenienced him not a little, but not sufficiently to prevent
his calling for assistance. A policeman soon made his appearance,
and Eusebe was very unceremoniously shown into the street.
At any other time he would have submitted without a word; but when
he thought that the angelic creature with whom he was so charmed
had disappeared forever, he thrust the public functionary aside and
hurried away like a maniac.