DEAR M.,--I thought there would be a little rest for me after the
distribution of prizes and before going to Dinard; but repose is a thing,
it seems, that I am destined never to get.
Monday morning I received a letter from Princess Metternich saying that
the Minister of Foreign Affairs had sent her his box for that evening, to
hear Schneider in "La Belle Hélène," adding that Cora Pearl was to appear
as Cupidon as an extra attraction, and asked if we would dine with them
first, and go afterward to the theater.
I could not resist an invitation from these two delightful people,
therefore we drove into Paris and reached the embassy at half-past six,
the hour named for dinner.
Prince Metternich told us that he had had a visit in the afternoon from
Monsieur Dué, the Swedish secretary, who had been on the verge of
desperation on account of his not having been able to secure a suitable
box for King Charles XIV. of Sweden, who arrived last night to spend a few
days here. He wished to see Schneider in "La Belle Hélène." Monsieur Dué
had gone to the Minister of Foreign Affairs and suggested that the
Minister offer his box; but that had already been given to the
Metternichs. When Prince Metternich was informed of this he did not
hesitate to place the box in question at the King's disposal; but, not to
disappoint the Princess and me, he had taken an ordinary box opposite. The
King was already in his _loge_ when we arrived. He is a large, handsome
man with a full, black beard, and has a very pleasant face.
Between the first and second acts Monsieur Dué came to Prince Metternich
and told him that the King desired to see him. Of course the Prince went
directly, and returned delighted with the King's affability, and to our
great surprise brought us a message from the King, asking us all to come
to his box and join him, and proposing to send Monsieur Dué and his
gentleman-in-waiting to take our places in our box.
We accepted with pleasure, and passed the rest of the evening in the
charming society of the most amiable of kings. He said to me that "Oscar,"
as he called his brother (Prince Oscar, the hereditary Prince), had spoken
about me and our singing the duet written by his brother, Prince Gustave,
and asked how I managed about the Swedish words. I replied that Prince
Oscar had taught them to me during the dinner preceding the singing.
"Could you understand the words?" he asked.
"No," I replied. "I only know that it was something about London and
Emma."
The King laughed most heartily, and said, "I shall tell that to Oscar when
I go home, and he will see how well you profited by his lessons."
We were all immensely amused at Cora Pearl's appearance; it was her debut
as an actress. I never saw any one look so sheepish as she did, in spite
of her paint and powder and beautiful legs. She wore high-heeled slippers,
so high that she could hardly walk, which made her even more awkward than
she naturally was. She only had a few lines to sing, and this she did so
badly that people nearly hissed her.
She was evidently engaged as a drawing-card; but the only thing she drew
was ridicule on herself.
During the second act Lord Lyons came into the box. He had known the King
before, and, having heard from the Minister of Foreign Affairs that the
King was at the theater, went there to pay his respects. The King,
noticing that he had a decoration on, said in French: "Please take that
off; I am here incognito. To-morrow I shall be official; then you can put
it on." So Lord Lyons took off his star and put it in his pocket. He
wanted to go after the second act, but the King said: "Monsieur Dué has
arranged a supper for us at _La Maison d'Or_. You must come also." Of
course Lord Lyons did not refuse.
Monsieur Dué left the box in advance of the rest of us, in order to
arrange everything before the King's arrival. The King called to him, as
he opened the door, "Don't forget the _écrevisses à la Bordelaise_; I
have been looking forward to them for a long time."
After the performance, with which the King was delighted (especially with
Hortense Schneider's song, "Dis-moi, Vénus, pourquoi," etc.), we drove to
the _Maison d'Or_, where we found Monsieur Dué awaiting us. We asked at
what time the carriages should come back. He said: "Not before two
o'clock. His Majesty never retires before." We were then shown into a
salon, where the Princess Metternich and I were asked by the King to take
off our hats. "It is so much more cozy," he said. So off our hats came. We
had not been seated ten minutes when we heard some very loud talking and
much discussion in the corridor outside. Lord Lyons, who was nearest the
door, jumped up to see what the matter was, opened the door, and peeped
out.
"Oh!" said he. "It is the Duke of Brunswick making a row; he is half-seas
over!" The King turned to Monsieur Dué (the King does not speak English)
and said, "What did Lord Lyons say?" Monsieur Dué's English did not go
very far, but he translated into Swedish what he had understood Lord Lyons
to say.
The King seemed very puzzled and, addressing Lord Lyons, said:
"Was not the Duke of Brunswick obliged to leave England for fear of being
arrested?" Lord Lyons coughed discreetly, and the King went on: "If I
remember rightly, the Duke, who was in the royal box, shot at and killed a
_danseuse_ who was on the stage! And did he not leave England in a
balloon? It always seemed such an extraordinary thing. Was it true?" Lord
Lyons cautiously answered that people had said all that; but it was some
time ago, and added, diplomatically, that he had forgotten all the
details.
"And I understood," said his Majesty, "that he can never go back there
again."
"You are right. He cannot go back to England, your Majesty."
"Oh! don't Majesty me. To-night I am a simple bourgeois," the King
interrupted, smilingly shaking his finger. "But tell me, how can the Duke
dare return there now?"
"He does not dare," repeated Lord Lyons. "He can _never_ go back."
"But," insisted the King, "my good Monsieur Dué says that he is on his way
there at this moment."
Lord Lyons replied, "I think Monsieur Dué must be mistaken, for the Duke
is out there in the corridor making all this [I am sure it was on his lips
to say "devil of a row," but he politely said] _noise_."
Monsieur Dué then remarked, "Did I not hear you say that he was half way
across the channel?"
"I certainly did not say _that_. What I did say was that he was 'half-seas
over' which is a slang expression we use in England instead of saying
tipsy, or _dans les vignes du Seigneur_, so prettily put by the French."
The King laughed very much at this _quid pro quo_ and, looking at Monsieur
Dué, said, "I thought your English more up to the mark."
The King was immediately fired with a desire to see the famous Duke who
had dared to cross the channel in a balloon rather than run the risk of
being shut up in prison, and we all waited with impatience to see whether
Lord Lyons's persuasive powers went so far as getting the Duke to show
himself. Well, they did, and both the gentlemen came into the salon. The
Duke bowed low and did not lose his balance. In fact, for a man half-seas
over, I thought he looked as if he could get to the end of his journey
without disgrace. He said, very politely, "I am afraid I have disturbed
you, but this is the salon which has always been put aside for me every
night, and I was surprised to learn that it was occupied."
The Duke is, or rather would have been, a very handsome man if he had not
such watery eyes and such a weak mouth; and then he wore the funniest-
looking wig I ever saw. It was made out of black (the blackest) sewing-
silk and plastered down over his ears. I wonder if it was a disguise, or
if he thought any one would ever really take it for his own hair.
The King was very nice to him, and did not seem in the least to mind his
being _dans les vignes_. I fancy, from what Monsieur Dué said, that in
Sweden people are used to see their friends _always_ in _Seigneurial_
vineyards--they never see them anywhere else! But he exaggerates, no
doubt.
The King said to the Duke of Brunswick, "Will you not sup with us to-
night?"
"I thank your Majesty, but I must crave permission to return, for I have
some ladies supping with me, including the Cupidon of to-night."
"Tell her," said the King, "if she wears such high heels she will come to
grief."
"It will not be the first time," answered the Duke, with a laugh. "But
don't ask me to say anything like that to her; she would box my ears!"
Seeing the waiter making signs to him, the Duke then made a profound bow
and, stroking his sewing-silk locks left us.