DEAR M.,--At breakfast this morning I sat next to Prince Metternich. He
told me that there was to be _conseil de ministres_ to-day, and therefore
there was no question of their Majesties' presence at excursions, and no
particular plans projected for this afternoon.
Thus we were left to our own devices. Prince Metternich's fertile brain
was already at work to imagine something amusing to divert their Majesties
for the evening. He suggested charades. He is excellent at getting them
up.
When we met in the salon he spoke to the different people who he thought
would be helping elements.
The Marquise de Gallifet thought that tableaux would be better; Count de
Vogüé suggested games (he knew several new ones, which he proposed). All
in vain! Prince Metternich insisted on charades; therefore charades
carried the day, of course.
The Prince had already thought of the word "Exposition," and arranged in
his mind what part each one of us was to have. The Vicomte de Laferrière,
whom he was obliged to take into his confidence, told him that he would
show us the room in which there was a stage for amateur performances.
As soon as their Majesties had departed we proceeded to the said room,
where there was a little stage, a very little one, with red-velvet
curtains. Next to this room was a long gallery, in which there was a
quantity of chests containing every variety of costumes, wigs, pastiches,
tinsel ornaments, and all sorts of appurtenances--enough to satisfy the
most dramatic imagination.
Each garment, as it was held up to view, suggested endless possibilities;
but the Prince stuck firmly to his first inspiration, and we were
despatched to our different apartments to think out our rôles and to
imagine how funny we were going to be.
The Empress is always present at the _conseils de ministres_, which
to-day must have lasted an unusually long time, as no one was invited to
her tea. So we took ours with the Metternichs. The Prince had just
returned from town, and was childishly eager to display the various and
extraordinary purchases he had made, which he considered absolutely
necessary for the finishing touches to our toilettes. His requisites
consisted of an oil-can, a feather duster, a watchman's rattle, and wax
enough to have made features for the whole Comédie Française, and paint
and powder for us all. He would not tell us what he had procured for his
_own_ costume, as he said he wanted to surprise us, adding, what he
could not buy he had borrowed.
Count Vogüé gave me his arm for dinner. Of course, we talked of little
else but the charade.
Their Majesties were informed of the surprise which was awaiting them in
the little theater. The Empress said to Prince Metternich, after dinner,
"I hear you have prepared something to amuse us this evening. Do you not
wish to go and make your arrangements? We will be ready to join you in
half an hour."
All of us who were to take part disappeared to dress, and returned to the
gallery connecting with the stage in due time. Peeping through the hole in
the curtain, we could see the imposing and elegant audience come in and
take their seats with much ceremony and calmness. They little thought how
impatient we were to begin and yet trembling with nervousness. Their
Majesties, the guests, and all the ministers who had stayed for dinner
more than filled the theater. It looked, indeed, uncomfortably crowded.
At last every one was seated, and the first syllable, "Ex," was played
with great success. It represented a scene at Aix-les-Bains.
Invalids met (glasses in hand) and discussed and compared their various
and seemingly very complicated diseases. They made very funny remarks on
the subject of getting their systems in order in view of the possible
incidents which might come up during the Exposition of the next year.
The Marquis de Gallifet was one of the invalids, and seeing the Minister
of the Interior in the audience, looked straight at him and said, "C'est à
vous, Monsieur le Ministre, de remédier à tout cela (It is your business,
Monsieur le Ministre, to cure all that)," which made every one roar with
laughter, though Prince Metternich (our impresario) was very provoked, as
he had particularly forbidden any one to address the audience.
The Princess Metternich looked very comical dressed as a Parisian
coachman, with a coachman's long coat of many capes; she wore top-boots,
and had a whip in her hand and a pipe in her mouth, which she actually
smoked, taking it out of her mouth every time she spoke and puffing the
smoke right into the faces of the audience. She sang a very lively song,
the words of which her husband had found time to write for her during the
afternoon. It began, "C'est à Paris, qu' ça s'est passé." She cracked her
whip and stamped her feet, and must have been very droll, to judge from
the screams of delight in the audience. The song was full of quips and
puns, and pleased so much that she had to repeat it.
The next word was "Position," and acted only by gentlemen. An amateur, or
rather a novice, was taking lessons in fencing, in order to defend himself
against probable attacks upon him by the barbaric foreigners who next year
would invade Paris, and he wished to be prepared sufficiently to resent
all their insults.
When the curtain came down all the sky came with it, which put the public
in great glee.