My Neighbor Raymond Part 45

XXIV

THE BOURGEOIS COMEDY.--THE REHEARSAL

For several days my conduct was really most exemplary; I paid court to Madame de Marsan, concerning whom my neighbor had told me too much. I did not go again to see Nicette at night; and when I pa.s.sed her shop during the day, I bade her good-morning without stopping. Her black dress told me of the loss she had sustained, but I did not ask her for any details of Madame Jerome's death.

Madame de Marsan was a very agreeable, lively, coquettish person; I found several young men a.s.siduously attentive to her, but had no idea whether they were more fortunate than I. I was not sufficiently enamored of her to be jealous; and yet, it annoyed me to see that swarm of admirers who so often forced themselves between her and myself. Twenty times I was tempted to cease to augment their number, but a secret hope whispered to me that I was the preferred one and that I should distance all my rivals.

Madame de Marsan's receptions were delightful: the company was select, the women were pretty, the men well bred; courtesy without affectation or reserve was the ordinary rule; we were lively and cheerful without ceasing to be decent, gallant without mawkishness; and if anyone did say something a little spiteful, it was said in the good-natured tone in which one may say anything with impunity. The music was excellent, without being pretentious; sometimes they played for high stakes, but you could never detect the faintest emotion on the faces of the players; in good society, people know how to lose their money with a charming grace.

The month of October was drawing near, and before the winter should come and open the season for b.a.l.l.s Madame de Marsan proposed to give a party at her country house, at which there were to be some theatricals. I had been hearing of this function for a long while, and extensive preparations were being made therefor. The matter of the plays to be given was thoroughly discussed, and at last they fixed upon _Le Barbier de Seville_ and _Fanchon la Vielleuse_. Madame de Marsan insisted that I should take part. I had never acted in anything but charades, but I could not refuse to do whatever she wished. I was cast for Lindor, and she for Rosine; I could not complain of that arrangement. The other parts were distributed, and Raymond was not forgotten; he was an invaluable man for bourgeois comedies. As for Monsieur de Marsan, he never took part in theatricals. In large parties, husbands are of no use except to provide the money.

On the appointed day, Madame de Marsan went to her country house, where all the actors were to report a week before the performance, in order to have plenty of time to rehea.r.s.e and arrange the stage business. Raymond, who had left me in peace for some time, came to me now every morning to urge me to hear him repeat the role of Bartholo; and as he was to appear in _Fanchon_ also, in the part of the Abbe de Lattaignant, I must needs teach him the airs he had to sing; for, although he held himself out as a great musician, it took him a fortnight to learn a vaudeville couplet, even though he always had some score or other in his pocket.

"They'd have done much better to give some short new play instead of this interminable _Fanchon_," my neighbor said to me every morning. "I'd have written one myself! indeed, I have some all written, which would be just the thing for amateurs!"

"You ought to suggest them."

"Pshaw! there's that Madame Saint-Marc, Madame de Marsan's friend, who's determined to play Fanchon, because, I suppose, she thinks she's very pretty _en marmotte_. And that tall thin fellow who wants to play Sainte-Luce--we shall see how it goes. I myself could have played the officer much better than the abbe; the part's better suited to my figure and style; however, I'm willing to take the other part to oblige; I sacrifice myself. I hope, however, that if we have time, before the fete, they'll play my little opera, _Les Amants Proteges par Venus_; there are only three short acts, but very spectacular. Listen, this is the first----"

"I'm studying my part."

"Never mind, I want you to judge of the effect. The stage represents a magnificent country house, where preparations for the wedding of the lovers are in progress. The princess begins and says:

"'Prince, 'tis here that we're to be united.

How happy I am! how----'"

I listened no longer; and although the fete was not to come off for ten days, I rid myself of Raymond by leaving Paris for Madame de Marsan's country house, where I was not sorry to arrive in advance of the rest of the guests. I hoped there to find a more favorable opportunity; and opportunity is such a precious thing! Many people have owed their happiness to it; all that is necessary is to know enough to grasp it.

This time I had obtained such directions as were necessary to prevent my going astray, and in due time I arrived at Madame de Marsan's estate. It was almost a little chateau; the situation was delightful, the surroundings beautiful; the gardens seemed quite extensive and very well kept, the apartments decorated with refined taste, and so well arranged that a large number of guests could easily be accommodated. But I postponed my examination of these details, being in haste to present my respects to the mistress of the house.

"Madame is alone," said the maid; "none of the guests have arrived yet."

I had hoped that that would be the case.

"And Monsieur de Marsan?"

"Oh! monsieur won't come until the day of the party or the day before.

He never meddles in such things."

I could not have chosen my time better. I hastened to surprise her. The welcome I received satisfied me that she was flattered by my zeal.

"It is very good of you to come first," she said; "we can rehea.r.s.e a scene from _Le Barbier_ together. Our parts are very long, you know, and, for my part, I have a very poor memory."

"I will do whatever you please, madame."

"Come first of all to look at our theatre. I am sure that you expect to find a cramped little place, where your head touches the flies, and the houses are smaller than the actors. Come, monsieur; I am determined that the sight of our playhouse shall arouse a spirit of emulation in you."

She laughingly led me into the garden; the theatre was in the centre. It was large, convenient, and excellently arranged. The auditorium was tastefully decorated and would hold about three hundred people.

"Well, monsieur! what do you say to our theatre?"

"That it would put many provincial theatres to shame."

"And we flatter ourselves, too, that we give better performances than one sees in the provinces. We do not shrink from anything: comedy, vaudeville, opera-comique! We play everything except tragedy."

"Why that exception?"

"You will agree that in the best amateur company at least half of the performers are good for nothing and provoke laughter, which in our theatre is never prohibited; but we noticed that the audience always laughed more at tragedies than at other plays; and as we could not mistake that for applause, we have ceased to play any but merry pieces; now, when we cause laughter we can persuade ourselves that it is a sign of approval. There is always some way of sparing one's self-esteem, you see. At our last performance we had a most complete success! We gave _Porceaugnac_, with all the scenic accessories; nothing was forgotten; I fancy that we bought all the syringes in Montmorency. But it was charming, and it made a great sensation. It was spoken of in Paris; we even had an article in the paper. You will agree, monsieur, that our honor is involved now in maintaining our reputation."

I promised Madame de Marsan to do my best to make myself worthy to appear upon her stage; and we left it, to stroll through the garden. It was almost a park; it was possible to lose one's self there, and I hoped to take advantage of that fact. There was a little clump of trees, a grotto, a bridge, which lacked nothing but water, dense, bosky groves, shaded paths, turf that was always green, several pretty little elevations, a subterranean path, a cliff, a waterfall, and all the games that can be played in a garden. It was a delicious spot, into which it seemed to me that ennui could never find its way. Madame de Marsan gave me a small bedroom overlooking the fields. I should have been delighted with it, except that it was a long way from hers. I reproached her for it, and she answered with a jest. Patience! perhaps my turn would come.

Meanwhile, it was inc.u.mbent on me to learn my part. Madame de Marsan wished to rehea.r.s.e some scenes that night, and she left me to study. No constraint, no etiquette in the country.

"Here," she said, "everyone does what he pleases--rises in the morning, goes out to walk, stays in the house, goes away, returns, as his fancy bids him. So long as you are prompt at meals, and, above all, at rehearsals, you are absolutely your own master."

I promised to conform to the established rules, and buried myself among the trees to study the role of Almaviva. But the thought that I was alone in that house with Madame de Marsan--for servants and workmen do not count--that thought made my mind wander. What! I was under the same roof with a pretty woman, who allowed me to make love to her without apparent displeasure, who seemed indeed to manifest something more than interest in me--and I could be satisfied with anything less than a complete victory!--I saw that I had to do with an accomplished coquette, who perhaps pretended to be sensible to my attentions in order to keep me bound to her chariot for a longer time.

I looked forward to dining tete-a-tete with Madame de Marsan, but a tiresome neighbor came to call, and he dined with us. I had an idea that his presence was as disagreeable to her as to me, but, of course, she must seem to be delighted to see him. Luckily, at the table the neighbor talked for three; we were able to think of whatever was in our minds, and still the conversation did not languish. The old gentleman hardly gave himself time to breathe: he described his property to us in detail, from the main entrance to the garden wall; we knew just how many acres of land he had, and what his kitchen garden brought him in; how many trees he had planted, the number of his hens, how many eggs they laid in a week, what they were worth in the market, and a thousand other details no less interesting to us. But while he was talking, my eyes carried on a very different sort of conversation with Madame de Marsan. The neighbor, engrossed by his crops and his betterments, did not notice it.

I discovered that loquacious people are sometimes very convenient. At last, about half-past seven, the neighbor concluded to go home, to see how many eggs his hens had laid during the day. He took his leave, and I was alone with Madame de Marsan. We went out for a walk in the garden; the verdure, the shadows, the silence, everything was conducive to tenderness. I tried to speak of love; the coquette replied only by repeating some of Rosine's lines. I continued, paying no heed to her.

She rebuked me.

"That isn't right, monsieur," she said; "you haven't studied your part; you don't know a word of it."

"But, madame, I am not talking about our play."

"What's that, monsieur! didn't we agree to rehea.r.s.e?"

"We have plenty of time."

"No; I have a bad memory."

"Then you refuse to listen to me?"

"On the contrary, but give me my cue."

"You have known a long while that I love you, that I adore you."

"I know that all that is in your part, but you ought to say it differently."

"I see, madame, that you take pleasure in tormenting me."

"Anger--pa.s.sion--that's right! I a.s.sure you that you will act splendidly!"

What a woman! it was impossible to make her reply to the question that interested me. We returned to the salon; I was in an execrable humor. I rehea.r.s.ed with the book in my hand, but I said my lines so badly that Madame de Marsan laughed at me incessantly. I left her and went to bed; I was almost tempted to remain no longer in that house. However, I did remain; but I cursed womankind, all of whom played fast and loose with me. The only one who combined all the estimable qualities, the only one who manifested genuine affection for me, was the very one of all who could neither be my wife nor my mistress.

The next day I decided to learn my role; perhaps that complaisance on my part would be considered worthy of recompense; at all events, as I was to act, I did not choose to make a more awkward appearance than the others; so I studied Count Almaviva. I went into the garden, my _Barbier de Seville_ in my hand. I have always been able to learn easily when I chose; in less than four hours I was able to act almost the whole play.

I said nothing at dinner; I wished to surprise Madame de Marsan, who asked me laughingly if I knew it as well as I did the previous evening.