the carpenter's apprentice, who has a magnificent voice. I have
persuaded the constable's wife to play the princesses, and I have made
an _ingénue_ of the cooper's widow; those are all I've been able to find
in the town; but they do very well, they're jewels. As for myself, I act
when it's necessary; but, as I have to prompt too, I can't take any long
rôles. I have a well-supplied wardrobe: three Spanish costumes, with
which the last rope-dancer paid his bill at the wine shop; an old
lawyer's gown to make tunics with; two otter-skin caps to serve for
turbans, and some curtains I bought at Grenoble to make into cloaks. We
were to have opened day after to-morrow, with _Phèdre_ and _Le Devin du
Village_. In _Phèdre_, the carpenter was to do Aricie, because we have
only two women; but he's a nice-looking boy, with no beard, and he'd
have done very well. As for the other two _confidants_, Ismène and
Panope, I intended to declaim their rôles from the prompter's box. We
should have given _Le Devin du Village_ without music, but that makes it
all the prettier; the actors speak instead of singing, and it goes very
well; I've seen it given so in many places. What a success we would have
had! My Colin was to do Hippolyte; and my noble father would have been
magnificent as Thésée. The wigmaker was cast for Théramène; the fellow
has his lines at his tongue's end, he doesn't shave a customer that he
doesn't recite 'em; and Hippolyte must needs have the catarrh, and
Thésée get into a row at a wine shop! How am I to get out of the scrape?
Oh! if some great actor from Paris or some foreign country would happen
to stop here--one of those men who travel so much! But they never come
to Voreppe!"
"Supper is served, messieurs," said the maid-servant.
"Your trouble won't interfere with your supper, I take it, Monsieur
Floridor," said a tradesman.
"No, indeed. I shall eat my supper as a matter of habit, but I have no
appetite. This calamity has cut off my arms and legs."
"But not his tongue," observed Ménard, in an undertone, as he prepared
to take his place at the table; when Dubourg, stalking majestically
forward, halted in front of him and declaimed, waving his right arm
about as if he were trying to swim:
"'Oui, puisque je retrouve un ami so fidèle,
Ma fortune va prendre une face nouvelle;
Et déjà mon courroux semble s'être adouci
Depuis qu'elle a pris soin de nous rejoindre ici.'"[C]
[C] Aye, since I find a friend so leal and true,
Methinks my fortune speedily will change;
Even now my wrath seems sensibly allayed,
Since she hath taken steps to join us here.
Ménard stared at Dubourg in dismay.
"You have found him?" he said; "who? my pupil? is he going to join us
here?"
Dubourg trod on Ménard's foot, for he saw that Floridor, instead of
taking his seat at the table, had stopped and was listening to him. He
seized the tutor's arm, and cried:
"'Est-ce toi, chère Élise? O jour trois fois heureux!
Que béni soit le ciel, qui te rend à mes voeux,
Toi qui, de Benjamin comme moi descendue,
Fus de mes premiers ans la compagne assidue.'"[D]
[D] Is it thou, O dear Élise? Thrice happy day!
Thank heaven, which doth restore thee to my prayers,
Thee, who, like me, from Benjamin descended,
Wast of my early years the comrade true.
"Delicious! delicious!" cried Floridor, clapping his hands, while Ménard
rolled his eyes about in amazement, looking for this Élise whom
monsieur le baron addressed; and as he saw no one but the maid-servant,
he asked her if her name was Élise.
"Is monsieur an actor?" inquired Floridor, walking toward Dubourg, cap
in hand.
"I, monsieur!" he replied, pretending to be surprised and annoyed
because he had been overheard. "I--I assure you, monsieur--what ground
have you for such an opinion?" he demanded, in a gruff voice, like a
villain of melodrama.
"What ground!" cried the little man, delighted beyond words, and seizing
Dubourg's hand. "Ah! monsieur, you betrayed yourself just now without
knowing it; but even without that I should have recognized you. That
voice, that carriage, those noble and majestic attitudes! None but an
actor of the first rank combines all these; and you are such a one; it
is useless for you to deny it."
"I see," said Dubourg, smiling with an air of mock modesty, "that it is
difficult to conceal anything from you. But my companion and I had fully
resolved to retain our incognito."
"Your companion!" cried the little man, leaping for joy; "can it be that
monsieur is an actor, too?"
"Unexcelled in tearful rôles, superb in tragedy, and absolutely natural
in comedy," said Dubourg, while Ménard listened with the air of one
listening to a language he does not understand. But Floridor did not
allow him to remain in that benumbed condition; he threw his arms about
Dubourg's neck, he threw his arms about Ménard's neck, and would have
done the same by the maid if somebody had not stopped him.
"They are sent by heaven!" he cried, rushing about the room like a
madman. "I shall open my theatre! we will play _Phèdre_, we will make
the whole town weep with _Le Devin du Village_!--Master innkeeper, a
bottle of your best wine. I have the honor of inviting to supper the two
artists who are travelling incognito."
"What does this mean?" Ménard asked Dubourg, in an undertone.
"It means that we are the two first actors to the King of Poland, that
yonder little magpie has already invited us to supper, and that he is
going to do a great deal more for us; further, that you must support
what I say, and try not to look like an idiot."
"What, monsieur le baron--you and I pass ourselves off as actors?"
"Actors are built like other men, Monsieur Ménard; Roscius was admitted
to the presence of Sylla, Garrick is buried beside the kings of England,
Molière was an actor, and none the less a great man; and two of the
great authors of our own time have acted, and sacrificed none of their
merit by so doing."
"But, monsieur le baron, I have never acted."
"Nor have I; but that doesn't alarm me."
"But suppose it should become known, what will people say?"
"It won't become known, as we are incognito."
"But I have no memory; I shall never be able to remember a rôle."
"They'll prompt you."
"But I am very timid, and I shall never dare to appear in public."
"When you are rouged and powdered, you'll be as bold as a page."
"I shall be execrable."
"We'll make him pay us a high price, and everybody will think we are
superb."
"But----"
"Morbleu! there's enough _buts_. Just remember that it's only for three
or four days; it's a little joke that will have no unpleasant
consequences, and will give us the means of waiting for another
remittance. Furthermore, when a man like myself, a Polish nobleman, an
elector palatine, decides to do such a thing, I consider it very strange
that a mere plebeian should presume to remonstrate with him. You will
act with me, or I abandon you to the wrath of the Comte de Montreville,
whose son you will never be able to find without assistance."
"I'll do it, monsieur le baron."
"That's very lucky for you!"
During this little dialogue, Monsieur Floridor had rushed into the next
house, where the wigmaker lived, to tell him that two great actors,
whose names he did not know as yet, but who were sure to be overflowing
with talent, because they were travelling incognito, had arrived at the
Soleil d'Or, and that he proposed to do his utmost to engage them to
appear two or three times in the town. The wigmaker abandoned the town
clerk's wife's hair, which he was engaged in curling, and hurried off to
carry the news to all his customers; the customers told their neighbors,
and the word was passed from house to house, as in the game of scandal.
The town of Voreppe being rather small, all the townspeople knew before
sundown that they had within their walls two dramatic geniuses who were
travelling incognito.
Monsieur Floridor returned, and they took their places at the table.
Dubourg seated Ménard at his side, so that he could whisper his replies
to him, and the manager took his seat on Dubourg's other side. All the
other guests treated the travellers with marked consideration, because
they saw that Floridor did, and because we often do what we see others
do, without very well knowing why.
The little manager talked incessantly, Dubourg from time to time
declaimed such passages as came to his mind, and Ménard concentrated his
attention upon his plate.
"May I not know," said Floridor, "with whom I have the honor of
supping?"
"We did not intend to make ourselves known," said Dubourg; "but, after
the flattering attentions with which you have honored us, it is
difficult to conceal anything from you. You see in us the two first
actors of Cracow, who are taking advantage of a furlough to travel in
France and perfect ourselves in the French tongue, in which all our
plays are given in Poland; so that our theatre is frequented only by the
most distinguished people of the country--like the Bouffons in Paris."
"I understand, I understand! and what parts do you play?"
"Everything, from pantomime to grand opera. My comrade here, Wolowitz,
is the Fleury of Poland, and I make bold to say that I am the Talma. Ah!
if you should see us together in _Les Chasseurs et la Laitière_! but you
don't give opera here, do you?"
"Pardon me: opéra-comique, without music, to be sure, because we have no
orchestra as yet; but if you will deign to accede to our prayers, how
happy our town will be to see two such artists as you!"
"It is true that we are terribly popular in Poland! Why, when we play
anywhere, they always throw us something--it never fails.--Do you
remember Smolensk, Wolowitz? We had given _Le Déserteur_ and _Le Chien
de Montargis_. You played the assassin. I say, do you remember the
sensation we produced there?"
Wolowitz did not reply, because he had not yet learned his name; but
Dubourg kicked him, under the table, and made him raise his head,
whereupon he replied, still eating:
"Yes, monsieur le baron."
"You see, he continues to call me the _baron_," said Dubourg; "he
imagines he is still on the stage."
Another kick informed Ménard that he had made a blunder, and he muttered
in Dubourg's ear:
"Tell me your name, then; you can't expect me to guess it."
"When people saw on the bill-board: _Boleslas and Wolowitz_," continued
Dubourg, with a glance at Ménard, "the theatre was always crowded to
suffocation, and we staggered under the wreaths that were thrown to us."
"Oh! you'll get some here," said Floridor; "we will throw 'em to you.
I've had a dozen made on purpose to have thrown on my actors' heads. You
shall have verses too--quatrains; I've got all those things."
"You are right; they always have a good effect, they flatter the artist
and dazzle the audience."
"Ah! Monsieur Boleslas, may I hope that you and your companion will
consent to give us a few performances?"
Dubourg did not consent at once; they had made a vow, he said, not to
act in any French theatre. Floridor urged them, implored them, and
ordered a fresh bottle of wine. Ménard was touched by the supper and the
little manager's compliments, and when they left the table he was ready
to promise to play any part he was asked to take; but Dubourg did not
yield so readily, because he desired to obtain a high price. Floridor
did not leave his side, he was ready to kneel at his feet; he would
make any sacrifice, he said, to open his theatre with such notable
artists, and he finally offered them a hundred francs for four
performances, which was a fabulous sum for acting in a stable. Dubourg
surrendered, declaring that he did it solely to oblige him.
The little man was beside himself with joy; he instantly prepared three
posters, which would be displayed in the town on the morrow, announcing
to the people thereof that Messieurs Boleslas and Wolowitz, famous
Polish actors, were to appear at their theatre.
"We should like to open with _Phèdre_ or _Le Devin du Village_," said
Floridor.
"Oh! bless my soul! it's a matter of indifference to us," replied
Dubourg; "whatever you choose."
"Then we will begin with that."
"Very well, I will do Phèdre."
"Phèdre? do you mean to say that you play female parts too?"
"Oh, no! I meant Hippolyte. Wolowitz will make a glorious Thésée."
"Very good. For the _Devin_ I only need a Colin."
"I'll undertake it. In four days we will be ready."
"Four days--that's rather too long."
"We must have a little rest."
"All right, four days it is. You will be announced to-morrow. Have you
any wardrobe?"
"No; for we had no idea of acting."
"No matter; I will see that you have costumes."
With that, Floridor left our friends, and they went to bed, Dubourg
laughing over this latest adventure, and Ménard murmuring:
"If monsieur le baron does it, why shouldn't I do it?"
When he woke the next morning, poor Ménard could not believe that he was
really going to play Thésée; but Dubourg appeared, book in hand, and
gave him his rôle, which the little manager had already sent, with the
information that there would be a rehearsal at noon.
"Bah!" said Dubourg; "there aren't a hundred lines in your part. What's
that to you, who have learned Horace and Virgil and so many other
authors by heart?"
"That's all very well; but I have passed my life learning them, while I
have only three days to commit this to memory."
"Don't be afraid, I'll answer for everything; besides, there's a
prompter."
"That's true; I must depend on him."
"As long as you know your first speech, that's all that's necessary."
"Oh! as to that, I'm not at all alarmed:
"'La fortune à mes voeux cesse d'être opposée,
Madame, et dans vos bras met----'"
"Bravo! you say it like an angel."
"It's the curse that bothers me."
"See that you gesticulate enough, and it will be all right."
At midday, Monsieur Floridor came to escort them to the theatre, where
the rest of the troupe was waiting for them. The aspect of the little
hall, which they reached through a dovecote, where the box-office was
located, amused Dubourg mightily, while Ménard collided with two old
hogsheads which did duty as mountains.
The troupe manifested the greatest respect for the two new-comers, who
rehearsed book in hand. Dubourg did not say a word that the others did
not exclaim:
"How well that was declaimed! what talent!"
It was the same with Ménard; and the tutor, bewildered by the applause
that was lavished upon him, was persuaded that he possessed a hitherto
unsuspected talent for acting.
"Do you take snuff while you are acting?" queried Floridor.
"Why not? I take the part of a king, and the King of Prussia took snuff;
witness that box, which----"
"In Poland," interposed Dubourg, "we take as much of it as we please on
the stage; it's a recognized thing; indeed, it's a matter of tradition
in many rôles."
"How glad I am!" said the constable's wife, who played Phèdre; "I didn't
dare to take it when I was the princess."
"In that case," said the carpenter's apprentice, "I'll put a little quid
in my mouth when I play Aricie, as Monsieur Boleslas deigns to allow
it."
"Whatever you please; great artists indulge in innumerable whims."
"_Non est magnum ingenium, sine mixtura dementiæ_," observed Ménard.
"Do you hear him? that's Polish," said the manager to his troupe.
Three days were occupied with rehearsals; at last, the day of the
performance arrived. Ménard knew only his first speech by heart; but he
knew that very well, and Dubourg had told him that that was enough. The
latter did not know a word of his part, but he was not at all disturbed.
On the morning of the performance, he took care to secure the hundred
francs which Floridor had agreed to pay, saying that it was the custom
in Poland. The little manager counted out the sum, and Dubourg put it in
his pocket.
The costumes they were to wear in _Phèdre_ were brought to the inn.
"Don't we dress at the theatre?" Dubourg asked the manager.
"We have no dressing-rooms, so everybody dresses at home; but the
weather is fine, and there's no inconvenience in that."
"Do you mean that I must walk through the town dressed as Hippolyte?"
"The theatre is only a few steps from the inn, and you can play the part
in boots, as Hippolyte is a hunter."
"True."
"In default of a bow, which we haven't, you will carry an old musket,
which I have had brought here for you; the ramrod will represent the
arrows."
"That will do very well."
"As for the wig, I think you will be pleased; as Hippolyte must have
hair falling over his neck, I have prepared a Louis XIV wig, which will
fill the bill perfectly."
The manager took his leave, and Dubourg was assisted to dress by Ménard,
who, as he did not appear till the third act, had plenty of time for his
own toilet. Dubourg retained his black trousers, in which were the
hundred francs; he thought it best to have the money about him, in case
of accident. Over them he drew a very large pair of nankeen trousers,
donned a white piqué waistcoat, and threw over his shoulders an ample
cloak covered with rabbit skins, representing the skin of a tiger; then
he put on his wig, daubed his face with rouge, took the musket in one
hand and his handkerchief in the other, and betook himself to the
theatre, urging Ménard to make haste, so that he would not be late for
his _entrée_.
The auditorium was full, which meant receipts of about eighty francs.
Floridor was in ecstasies; he ran to and fro from the prompter's box to
the stage, in full view of the audience; for there was no passage under
the stage, and the sheet which did duty as a curtain was hung on a rod
and drawn aside, like the curtain of a magic lantern.
Dubourg arrived, bathed in perspiration, because the cloak covered with
rabbit skins was very heavy and the wig was immense. The actors uttered
a cry of admiration when he appeared.
"How handsome he is!" could be heard on all sides; "how well he
represents Hippolyte!"
"Ah! I shall play Phèdre by inspiration!" exclaimed the constable's
wife, with a passionate glance at Dubourg. But as Phèdre had a slight
squint, and an enormous nose covered with snuff, Hippolyte did not
return that amorous glance. He drew the curtain aside to look into the
hall; when his face appeared, shouts arose on all sides; the ladies
thought he was a lion. Thereupon Floridor came forth from his box, and
addressed the audience thus:
"I told you that you would be pleased, enchanted!"--and he applauded
with all his might, the spectators followed suit, and Dubourg bowed with
majestic dignity, then retired behind the curtain.
Everybody was ready. Phèdre had a gown _à la_ Mary Stuart, a mob-cap,
and was covered with _mouches_ to the end of her nose. OEnone, to give
herself a malignant aspect, was dressed in red and black, because
Dubourg had told her that such a costume indicated a woman of character.
The carpenter, on the contrary, had sacrificed a nascent whisker in
order to represent Aricie; he was dressed in a white cambric gown, with
a garland of roses in his hair, and he imitated a woman's voice
reasonably well, although he constantly chewed tobacco.
The wigmaker, who was cast for the part of Théramène, wore a François I
wig and a Spanish costume, with his National Guards sabre for a sword.
The rôles of the other two confidants were to be read by Floridor from
the prompter's box. Only Thésée was missing, and he did not appear; but
he was not to come on till the third act.
"Let us begin, the audience is growing restive," said the manager; "we
mustn't keep them waiting any longer. Thésée will certainly be on hand
for the third act."
"It is undoubtedly his costume that detains him," said Dubourg; "he's
very particular about having his costume just what it should be, and he
never puts in a pin except in the way tradition demands."
The manager, who was also prompter, stage manager, and scene shifter,
struck the traditional three blows, then drew the curtain, which at
first disclosed only half of the stage; but with the assistance of two
spectators, who came on the stage, he succeeded in drawing it entirely
aside. Thereupon he went down into his box, with a candlestick in his
hand, and the play began.
When Dubourg stalked upon the stage, majestically enveloped in his
cloak, the audience emitted a murmur of surprise, which was not
precisely admiration; for, with his huge wig, the rouge trickling down
his cheeks, and his old musket over his shoulder, Dubourg was far from
attractive to look upon. Judging from the head they had seen a moment
before, they had expected to see a magnificent man of lofty stature;
but, on the contrary, the cloak seemed to crush him, and Théramène,
being very tall, made him appear even shorter than he was.
"He's a Pole," said the spectators.
"He's terribly ugly," said the young women; "but he is said to have
great talent."
Dubourg rolled his eyes in terrifying fashion, to give character to his
face; while the unlucky Théramène, whose head touched the flies, was
obliged to stoop, so that his wig should not sweep the spiders' webs
from the ceiling of the palace.
Dubourg, who was not at all timid, shouted his lines like a deaf man,
and gesticulated so wildly that, before the end of the first scene,
Théramène had been struck twice by him. At the third blow, the wigmaker
began to lose his temper, and muttered between his teeth:
"Sacrebleu! look out what you're doing! if you go on like this, I shall
be like a baked apple before the end of the play."
But the audience were delighted with his spirited acting; they applauded
and cried _bravo_! Dubourg continued as he had begun, but not without
alarming one woman in the pit who, being singularly affected by his
contortions, left the place.
The first act went very well; but the audience manifested some little
surprise when, instead of seeing Panope appear, they heard the prompter
reading the rôle in his box; but, as it was not long, they let it pass,
especially as Floridor, turning toward the pit, explained:
"Messieurs, the rôles of confidants are almost always given in this way
in towns of the third order."
But Thésée had not arrived.
"What in the devil can he be doing at the inn?" said Dubourg; "do you
suppose he can't put on his costume?"
"Impossible!" said the manager; "I sent him a superb yellow tunic, and
trousers of the same stuff; for his diadem he has a turban of the same
color, that I use in _Mahomet_."
"Oho! so Thésée will be all yellow, eh?"
"That's traditional, and tradition is never wrong. But let's go on with
the second act; we must hope that he will turn up."
They began the second act, which did not go so well as the first.
Aricie, in a moment of passion, spat her tobacco into Hippolyte's face,
whereupon the latter kicked her viciously just as her lover said to her:
"'Modérez des bontés dont l'excès m'embarrasse!'"[E]
[E] Be not so kind to me; your excessive kindness embarrasses me.
"That will teach you to be more careful," said Dubourg.
"If I wasn't a woman, I'd answer you in another way," retorted the
carpenter, shaking his fist at him.
"I advise you to keep quiet!"
Floridor hurried from his box to reconcile Hippolyte and Aricie; he
succeeded at last in pacifying them, and the performance continued. But,
a moment later, Dubourg, being on the stage with Phèdre, waited for the
prompter to give him his cue; but the cue did not come, because the
prompter could not see.
"Snuffers!" he cried; "give me some snuffers!"
"What a stupid!" said Phèdre, and she stooped and took the candle, and
gracefully snuffed it with her fingers. "There, my boy, that's the way
we do when we have any instinct." And she replaced the candlestick in
the box.
This little interlude was not agreeable to the audience, who had already
begun to murmur at the quarrel between Hippolyte and the princess; and
one enthusiast, who was more exacting than the rest because he had
occasionally attended the theatre at Grenoble, threw a raw potato,
which struck Phèdre in the left eye. The constable's wife finished the
scene in tears, and the second act came to an end at the same time, with
indications that a storm was brewing.
Floridor, who came out of his box after each act, ran on to the stage to
console Phèdre, who declared that she would not act any more. He tried
to restore the courage of his actors by assuring them that the later
acts would make amends for everything; he relied especially on the début
of Thésée, who had not yet appeared, and to whom he looked to produce a
prodigious effect. But Thésée did not arrive, and the anxiety became
general.
"What can have happened to him? I'll run back to the inn," said Dubourg,
"for his delay begins to surprise me; I'll bring him back with me at
once."
"Make haste!" cried Floridor; "for if we keep the audience waiting,
everything will be hopelessly ruined."
Let us see why Ménard, who was so scrupulously exact in everything he
had to do, had not arrived at the theatre. After Dubourg left him, he
turned his attention to his toilet; and that was no small matter to a
man who had never been to a ball, had never disguised himself, and had
worn the same costume for thirty years. Ménard scrutinized the tunic,
the Turkish trousers, and the turban, in every part; he had some
difficulty in making up his mind to put on those yellow garments and to
besmear his _venerable_ cheeks with rouge; he had to remind himself
constantly of Roscius, Garrick, and Molière, else he would have
abandoned the idea of acting. But he had promised, his word was pledged;
monsieur le baron, a noble Pole, set the example, and he must needs
adapt himself to circumstances.