“Well, I can’t complain for a first night. I have paid all expenses, and have given my actors a florin apiece. But I am sure I don’t know how I am to play to-morrow, as the company has rebelled; they say they won’t act unless I give each of them a florin in advance.”
“They don’t ask very much, however.”
“I know that, but I have no money, and nothing to pledge; but they will be sorry for it afterwards, as I am sure I shall make at least fifty florins to-morrow.”
“How many are there in the company?”
“Fourteen, including my family. Could you lend me ten florins? I would pay you back tomorrow night.”
“Certainly, but I should like to have you all to supper at the nearest inn to the theatre. Here are the ten florins.”
The poor devil overflowed with gratitude, and said he would order supper at a florin a head, according to my instructions. I thought the sight of fourteen famished actors sitting down to a good supper would be rather amusing.
The company gave a play the next evening, but as only thirty or at most forty people were present, poor Bassi did not know where to turn to pay for the lighting and the orchestra. He was in despair; and instead of returning my ten florins he begged me to lend him another ten, still in the hope of a good house next time. I consoled him by saying we would talk it over after supper, and that I would go to the inn to wait for my guests.
I made the supper last three hours by dint of passing the bottle freely. My reason was that I had taken a great interest in a young girl from Strasburg, who played singing chamber-maids. Her features were exquisite and her voice charming, while she made me split my sides with laughing at her Italian pronounced with an Alsatian accent, and at her gestures which were of the most comic description.
I was determined to possess her in the course of the next twenty-four hours, and before the party broke up I spoke as follows:—