"And the operetta?" inquired the Empress.
"I hope your Majesties will be indulgent," I replied.
Monsieur de Laferrière was next to me at dinner. He was as much interested in the operetta as other people seemed to be. I took advantage of his being my neighbor to ask him to manage it so that we could leave the salon before the cercle commenced, as we had to dress, and if any of us were late I dared not think what the effect would be on the nervous Marquis.
The Emperor raised his glass during dinner, though I sat very far down the table. I suppose he wanted to inspire me with hope and courage.
Monsieur de Laferrière arranged everything for us most amiably. We rushed off to our rooms to dress. I, for one, was not long over my toilette, and, followed by my maid, hurried through the long corridors to the theater.
We were all there except Monsieur de V——, who was no doubt still pottering over his raiment. The artist he had ordered from Paris was already there, brush in hand, ready to paint us. The result was very satisfactory. When we looked at ourselves in the glass we wondered why one should not be beautiful every day with so simple an art.
We were rather taken back when Monsieur d'Espeuilles appeared in a wig and a false mustache; but he hastened to say there was nothing like being disguised to put one at one's ease. The gentlemen of the chorus, not willing to go to any extra expense, had culottes courtes and white stockings; the ladies had tried to be more in harmony, but they thought that with rakes, spades, and basket they had quite enough couleur locale.
The chamberlain came to ask whether their Majesties should come now. Prince Metternich answered that we were waiting for them, A tedious delay occurred before the audience had settled into their places in accordance with their rank, to the great annoyance of Prince Metternich, shut up in the small prompter's box, and the Marquis d'Aoust, fidgeting at the piano, and driving us almost to distraction by his repeated questions and exhortations: "Do you think you know your part? Don't forget to"—etc.
At last! at last! No retreating now, Coûte que coûte! we must take in the plank and embark on our shaky craft.
The Marquis attacked the overture by playing some vigorous arpeggios and pompous chords. The curtains were drawn aside and the lord of the manor entered. After his monologue, which he did very well, he hesitated a moment. This agitated the Marquis to such a degree that he stood up and waved his hand as a signal to him to commence his song, and gave him the note on the piano. Monsieur de V—— started in all right and sang his song with due sentiment, and very well. I even think as far back as the sixth row of seats they were conscious that he was singing. His acting and gestures were faultless. All Frenchmen can act.