AFTER THE PLAY
"Well?"
"Decided success."
"Yes, great and unquestionable."
"How devilish lucky Gercourt is!"
"It is a capital beginning."
"Bah! he never wrote the thing."
"Why, that idea came into my head the moment I saw it must succeed."
"If it had only had moderate success, one might have believed that
Gercourt really wrote the play."
"If it had failed, there would not have been a moment's doubt on the
subject."
"Why, success is all very well; but you know, in such cases, the acting
of the performers is every thing."
"Quite true. Just now I was standing beside a newspaper man, and he said
that it was clever, but not written _close_, not _dovetailed_."
"Yes, that is the word I meant; the plot was not _dovetailed_."
"Decidedly not; and if persons will meddle with theatrical writing, they
ought at least to have a good knowledge of _dovetailing_."
"Yes, the whole piece depends on that."
"But there are some people who imagine they possess every thing by
instinct.
"Why, I think Gercourt a most excellent fellow, and very amiable and
nice before he was seized with the mania for writing, but now he has
such a mysterious, preoccupied air----"
"That is in the last degree ridiculous."
"Only look at Morville. In spite of his melancholy he has as
self-satisfied an air as if he were the author himself."
"Yes, without any possible reason."
"Well, gentlemen, I told you what the result would be. What an effective
_dénouement_!--It is hardly a success,--it ought to be called a
triumph."
"It proves that our friendship has done every thing;--we were all here,
and filled the house. It was quite a family affair."
"The thing must be tried before an impartial audience."
"To speak frankly, it is in spite of your friendship that Gercourt has
succeeded."
"Oh! you are always talking paradoxes, Morville. As soon as any one is
your friend, even if he had killed father and mother, he would be
excusable in your eyes."
"And the best reason would be, my dear sir, when that friend had written
a delightful comedy: at least you must allow some extenuating
circumstances to his crime. In the first place, he could not believe
that the success he desired would be so disagreeable to you; and I can
assure you, that in that particular there was no premeditation on his
part."
"You are joking now, Morville.
"I only say the truth."
"Well, if you were the friend of that woman who wears that very odd
head-dress, you would maintain that it was in the best possible taste."
"What woman are you speaking of?--Where is she?"
"There by Voltaire's statue, beside Madame de Brévannes, who really
seems quite ashamed of being seen in her society."
"Is M. de Brévannes, then, in Paris?"
"Certainly; but what makes you look so strangely when you ask the
question, my dear Morville?"
"Has he been here long?"
"I think not. I saw him for the first time since his return at the
Opera-ball. But what ails you, Morville? You seem quite preoccupied with
Brévannes. Are you in love with his wife?--She is worth winning."
"Her only fault is in having friends who wear such head-dresses?"
"You who take so deep an interest in De Gercourt's success, my dear
Morville, forget its most striking effects. His comedy had such an
effect on the Prince de Hansfeld, that it has made him more imbecile
than ever. He was conveyed to his carriage without consciousness. On his
first going out, as they say; he has been lucky!"
"How pleasant for Madame de Hansfeld!"
"Oh! of her we may say as many ill-natured things as possible. Morville
detests her, and his excuse of smelling of his cigar, which he gave for
not going to his aunt and this handsome princess, was a pure invention.
Oh! you are an original, Morville!"
"And you say that M. de Brévannes has only been in Paris for a short
time?"
"What! still harping on De Brévannes? I'm off--D. I. O. Good night!
Morville.--My cab is at the door."
"Morville is decidedly cracked."
"Yes, such fools do we become when we allow ourselves to be brutalised
by the 'tender passion.'"
"Lady Melford has made nice work with him."
"Poor fellow! Ah! there is Gercourt, and he looks as if he wished to
make his escape--to abscond from his triumph. What weakness!"
"Let us call him. Gercourt! Gercourt!"
"He will be overjoyed."
"Bravo! my dear friend."
"It is a decided hit."
"Enormous success!"
"You cannot imagine how delighted we are."
"Ah! my friends."
"We were just saying that for a man whose profession it was, it would
have been decided success; but for a man of the world, it is a double
merit."
"Well, but I assure you what you told me now--these proofs of kind
friendship are even more delightful to me than my success itself."
"That is easily accounted for: your success is as much for your friends
as yourself."
"What can make Morville look so pensive? Isn't he satisfied with my
play?"
"Why, my dear fellow, you know how strange he is in all points. He seems
as if he did not see you."
"And I want to get out of the way, for every one seems staring at me,
and I have no ambition to 'play the _lion's_ part.'--Adieu!"
"Adieu, my dear fellow!--and, once and again--bravo!"
"That is to say, that he is charmed with having Created such a
sensation."
"What ridiculous and insupportable vanity!"