The Flower Girl of The Chateau d'Eau - BestLightNovel.com
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"What has happened?"
"Has some other actor fallen into the pond?"
"I insist upon it's being emptied at once, so that we shan't have any more of that."
"No, messieurs, it isn't that, no one has fallen into the pond; only Kingerie was capable of such a masterpiece as that; but Monsieur Glumeau is complaining, and says that he doesn't know if he will be able to act."
"Bah! what's the matter with him now?"
"You probably noticed that when he was playing Pincette just now, he was in delightfully high spirits at first, and did nothing but jump and pirouette; he sang all his lines, standing on his toes; he was a regular zephyr. But toward the end, as he attempted to pirouette from one end of the stage to the other, although it isn't very large, it seems that he caught a st.i.tch in his side; he must have twisted himself, or strained some nerve, or perhaps much less than that; but you know Monsieur Glumeau--he thinks he's dying on the slightest provocation. Ever since then he has been very anxious, he goes limping about, holding his side; he wants to be rubbed every minute, and he's afraid of inflammation."
"Well, why don't they give his part to Chambourdin?"
"Chambourdin! We can't even count on him to play one of the robbers. He is standing almost under the skirts of a lady who is seated on the branch of a tree. Just now I called out to him: 'Come and put on your robber's costume!' and he answered: 'I am here at madame's orders, and bayonets won't make me leave.'"
"Sapristi! we must give the play all the same!" cried the druggist, who was most anxious to exhibit himself in tights; "doesn't monsieur feel able to take the part impromptu?"
The druggist addressed this question to little Saint-Arthur. The young dandy, always keenly desirous to produce a sensation, was attracted by the suggestion and exclaimed:
"Do I wear a handsome costume?"
"You dress as you please."
"Pardieu! in that case, I like the idea, and I accept; but, as I shan't have time to learn the part, I will act in pantomime."
"An excellent idea,--as good as that of giving _La Dame Blanche_ without music."
"What do you mean, Saint-Arthur, are you really going to act?" asked Jericourt.
"Yes, yes; I have an idea of a costume that will leave Fourriette's in the shade! I am going to cover myself with leaves."
But at that moment they heard young Miaulard shouting:
"Victory! here comes Monsieur Glumeau in his tyrant's costume, messieurs; that means that he will act."
"See how he hobbles along and leans over on one side!"
"That won't do any harm in his part; he will suggest Ligier in _Richard the Third_, at a distance."
Monsieur Glumeau came on the stage, saying in a most affecting manner:
"Ah! my friends, I don't know whether I shall be able to play; this infernal pain doesn't leave me; it's terrible!"
"It isn't anything, Monsieur Glumeau--a strained muscle."
"Or perhaps it's only wind, a gust of wind that has lodged there."
"Do you think so? Ten thousand bombs! if I only knew that!"
"I am not at all anxious to stand beside him!" muttered Miaulard, walking away.
"Everybody's ready," said little Astianax, m.u.f.fled up in a cuira.s.s and buckler and helmet, and brandis.h.i.+ng a lance which was twice as long as himself. "Where is my sister, where is Cunegonde?"
"Here I am!" cried Mademoiselle Eolinde, dressed as a Malabar widow. "I have my p--p--part at the end of my f--f--fingers."
"Let us begin then."
"One moment!" said Monsieur Glumeau; "before we begin, I want to drink a gla.s.s of anise water; someone has gone to fetch it for me."
"What is going to happen, great heavens? what is going to happen?"
exclaimed Miaulard, walking still farther away from Monsieur Glumeau.
At last, in place of anise water, they brought Monsieur Glumeau some anisette; he drank two small gla.s.ses of it and consented that the play should begin. The signal was given. The amateur musicians executed a polka which would pa.s.s very well for the overture to a melodrama. The curtain rose, and applause burst forth on all sides; the audience was delighted with the scenery; no curtain had been hung at the rear, and the veritable forest, lighted here and there, produced a magical effect.
And then the odd costumes of the actors heightened the enthusiasm of the audience. The hermit's cotton beard, the chevalier's helmet, the vizor of which persisted in falling over young Astianax's nose, the wooden swords and daggers, everything, even to the dragging gait and foolish expression of the tyrant, combined to enchant the spectators; but when the young druggist appeared as Detroussandos, when he strode across the stage with his tights surmounted by drawers, bursts of laughter arose in every direction, and the little lady who was seated on the branch of a tree was seized with such a paroxysm of hilarity that several times, as she squirmed about, she almost fell; luckily Chambourdin was still in his place, ready to restore equilibrium over his head.
The play proceeded amid general applause and hilarity, until the scene between the child and the robbers who proposed to kill Roderic. The gardener was said to be at his post; and in fact Master Pichet had not forgotten that he was to take his son's place; but instead of remaining sober as he had been urged to do, the gardener had considered, on the other hand, that in order to act with spirit, and to avoid any feeling of timidity before the audience, it would not be a bad idea to get a little tipsy; and what the peasant called getting a little tipsy, was drinking so much that he could hardly stand on his legs. In that condition Monsieur Pichet had gone upon the stage, and had hidden himself behind the trees from which he was supposed to keep an eye upon the robbers.
"Don't forget your lines," said Eolinde: "'Oh! for heaven's sake, messieurs, don't hurt papa!'"
"Oh! I know the lines! Don't you be afraid, mamzelle, I don't know anything else!"
Meanwhile, the famous scene was reached; Detroussandos and two robbers held their swords over Roderic's head, and the child did not appear to prevent them from striking.
"The child! the child! _sapredie!_ send on the child!" exclaimed Astianax in an undertone.
"What on earth is that brute doing?" muttered Fourriette, still holding his sword in the air; "is he going to leave us like this for long?"
The gardener did not appear, because when he was once seated behind the trees, he had instantly fallen asleep; stout Dufournelle, who was prompting and who heard him snore, ran to him and shook him roughly by the arm, shouting:
"It's your turn! it's time for you to go on! wake up, corbleu!"
The gardener, waking with a start, rubbed his eyes, sprang to his feet, ran on the stage, and threw himself into the midst of the robbers, exclaiming:
"Ah! you villains! you loafers! you mean to beat our young master, do you? Just wait a bit, and I'll show all three of you something! You'll see how I do it!"
And with that, falling upon the druggist and the two young men dressed as robbers, the gardener began to distribute fisticuffs and kicks which were not included in the action of the play; the three actors, who did not antic.i.p.ate that attack, began to shout and yell, and ended by returning the gardener the blows that they received; this combat, which the audience supposed to be feigned, was greeted with unanimous applause, and Monsieur Boutillon cried:
"Faith, I have often been to the theatre, but I must confess that I never saw such a good imitation of a fist fight as this!"
XX
A SILENT INTERVIEW
Suddenly there was a cry of: "It's raining, here comes the storm!" among the spectators; instantly all the ladies, fearing for the welfare of their dresses, rose in haste and ran toward the house. Madame Glumeau, while regretting that they could not wait for the end of the play, abandoned her place, saying to the ladies who were near her: