"You know the subject of course? Handsome Narcissus, son of the river Cephise and the nymph Liriope, scorns the love of the nymph Echo—Echo belonging to the suite of Juno whom she amused with her speeches while Jupiter visited the world—Echo, daughter of the Air and the Earth, as you know—"
And he went into transports over the poetry of mythology. Then in a more confidential tone:
"I thought I might give rein to my imagination. The nymph Echo leads handsome Narcissus before Venus, in a marine grotto, so that the goddess may inflame him with her fire. But the goddess remains powerless. The young man indicates by his attitude that he is not touched."
The explanation was not out of place, for few of the spectators in the drawing-room understood the real meaning of the groups. When the prefect had named the personages in an undertone, the admiration increased. Mignon and Charrier continued staring with wide open eyes. They had not understood.
THE TABLEAUX VIVANTS AT SACCARD'S MANSION IN THE PARC MONCEAUX.
A grotto was shown on the platform, between the red velvet curtains. The scenery was formed of silk with large irregular plaits imitating rocky anfractuosities on which shells, fish and large sea plants were painted. The broken ground rose up like a hillock, covered with the same silk, on which the scene painter had depicted fine sand constellated with pearls and silver spangles. It was a fitting retreat for a goddess. On the summit of the hillock stood Madame de Lauwerens figuring Venus; somewhat stout, wearing her pink tights with the dignity of a duchess of Olympus, she depicted the sovereign of love with large severe, all devouring eyes. Behind her, showing merely her malicious face, her wings and quiver, little Madame Daste lent her smile to that amiable personage Cupid. Then, on one side of the hillock, the three Graces, Mesdames de Guende, Teissière, and de Meinhold, all in muslin, smiled and entwined each other as in Pradier's group; whilst on the other side the Marchioness d'Espanet and Madame Haffner, enveloped in the same flow of lace, their arms round each other's waists and their hair mingled, lent something suggestive to the tableau, a souvenir of Lesbos which Monsieur Hupel de la Noue explained in a lower voice and for the gentlemen only, saying that he had wished by this to show the full extent of the power of Venus. Below the mound the Countess Vanska personated Voluptuousness; she stretched herself out, twisted by a last spasm, with her eyes half closed and languishing, as if weary; very dark, she had unloosened her black hair, and her tunic, spotted with tawny flames, was cut so as to allow glimpses of her glowing skin. The scale of colour which the costumes furnished, from the snowy whiteness of Venus's veil to the dark red of Voluptuousness's tunic, was soft, generally pink, and of a fleshy tinge. And under the electric ray, ingeniously cast upon the stage from one of the garden windows, the gauze, the lace, all the light transparent stuffs mingled so well with the shoulders and the lights, that these pinky whitenesses seemed alive, and one no longer knew whether the ladies had not carried plastic accuracy to the point of stripping themselves naked. This was but the apotheosis; the drama was enacted in the foreground. On the left side, Renée, the nymph Echo, stretched out her arms towards the great goddess, her head half turned in supplicating fashion in the direction of Narcissus, as if to invite him to look at Venus, the mere sight of whom kindles terrible fires; but Narcissus, on the right, made a gesture of refusal, hid his eyes with his hand and remained icily cold. The costumes of these two personages, especially had cost Monsieur Hupel de la Noue's imagination infinite trouble. Narcissus, as a wandering demi-god of the forests, wore the attire of an ideal huntsman: greenish tights, a short close-fitting jacket, and a branch of oak in his hair. The dress of the nymph Echo was a complete allegory in itself alone; it partook of the high trees and lofty mountains, of the resounding spots where the voices of the Earth and Air reply to each other; it was a rock by the white satin of the skirt, a thicket by the foliage of the girdle, a pure sky by the cloud of blue gauze forming the body. And the groups retained the stillness of statues, the carnal note of Olympus resounded in the blaze of the broad ray, while the piano continued its complaint of acute love.
It was generally considered that Maxime was admirably formed. In making his gesture of refusal he developed his left hip, which was much remarked. But all the praises were for Renée's expression of face. As Monsieur Hupel de la Noue remarked, it typified "the pangs of unsatisfied desire." Her face; wore an acute smile which tried to become humble, she begged her prey with the supplication of a hungry she-wolf who half hides her teeth. The first tableau went off very well, save that that madcap of an Adeline moved, and only with difficulty restrained an intense desire to laugh. At last the curtains closed again and the piano became silent.
Then the audience applauded discreetly and the conversation was resumed. A great breath of love, of restrained desire, had come from the nudities of the platform, and darted about the drawing-room where the women leaned more languidly on their seats, while the men spoke in low voices in each other's ears, and smiled. There was a whispering as in an alcove, a semi-silence as suited to good society, a longing for voluptuousness, barely expressed by a quiver of lips; and in the mute looks exchanged amid this well-mannered delight, there was the brutal boldness of love offered and accepted with a glance.