Part 14 (1/2)

”Shall we now have a Germanic pulse?” the Empress risked, and called Comte Solms. ”Think of something pleasant,” said the inventor. ”A ballet is a nice thing to think of,” said the Princess Metternich, in her shrill voice.

”Regarde, comme il va vite,” the inventor cried, and he showed the paper with the most extraordinary wavy lines. Every one laughed, and no one more than Comte Solms himself.

Six o'clock came very quickly, and the Empress, rising, gave the signal for our departure.

The Marquis de Caux took me in to dinner. He is the most popular and sought-after gentleman in all Paris. No ball is complete without him, and his presence at any dinner is sufficient to a.s.sure its success. He leads all the cotillons worth speaking of, and is a universal favorite. He allowed his secret to leak out (_un secret de Polichinelle_), which all Paris is talking about.

I swore secrecy; but I can tell you that it can be contained in one word, and that word is SIMPATICO, which is Italian for his rendezvous with HER at the American Doctor Sim's house, for it is there he meets her. _Devine qui peut!_ (Guess who can!) I have not said anything.

At nine o'clock we all adjourned to the theater in the Palace, to reach which we pa.s.sed through many rooms we had never seen before, and through a long gallery. The theater is very handsome, and as large as most of the theaters in Paris. There is always one theatrical performance during each week while their Majesties are in Compiegne. The company of the Theatre Francais had been commanded to play this evening. The piece chosen was the latest one of emile Augier, which has had a great success in Paris, called ”Le fils Giboyer.” emile Augier, who was invited specially, was present.

Madeleine Brohan, Coquelin, Breton, and Madame Favard had the princ.i.p.al roles. Such distinguished artistes as those could not but give the greatest enjoyment. The theater is very handsome; there are only boxes and the parquet; the Imperial Loge reaches from the first tier of boxes to the last seats of the parquet in the shape of a sh.e.l.l. Any one standing up there could touch, on raising the arm, the velvet draperies of the Imperial box.

The theater is entirely lighted by wax candles, of which there must have been thousands, and all the scenery belonging to the play was sent especially from Paris.

Their Majesties sat in the center of the Imperial Loge, and the lady guests and the most important gentlemen, according to their rank, were placed beside and behind them.

The other gentlemen sat in the parquet, and circulated about between the acts.

In the boxes were places for the Court ladies, also the ladies invited from the neighboring chateau and from Compiegne.

The whole a.s.semblage certainly presented the most dazzling and magnificent sight. The ladies in their beautiful toilettes and superb jewels showed to the greatest advantage in this brilliantly lighted theater. The Empress was gorgeous in yellow tulle covered with lace and jewels. She wore the famous Regent diamond, which belongs to the French Crown, in her corsage, and a superb diamond tiara and necklace. Princess Metternich, who is known to be the best dressed lady in Paris, had a black tulle dress embroidered in gold; she wore a tiara of diamonds and emeralds and a necklace of the same.

When their Majesties entered every one rose and courtesied deeply; their Majesties bowed graciously in response. The Master of Ceremonies gave the signal, and the curtain rose immediately.

The actors seemed inspired to do their best, as well they might, with such a brilliant audience before them.

I wondered if they did not miss the _claque_, to which actors are so accustomed in France. You know the _claque_ is a set of men who are hired to clap at certain points in the play indicated beforehand to them, in order that the audience may appreciate the most salient points and join the applause, if they wish to.

Every one enjoyed the play immensely. There were portions of it which were very pathetic. I noticed the Emperor was visibly affected, and the Empress wiped from her eyes _una furtiva lagrima_, as Donizetti's song has it.

I know _I_ cried my lace handkerchief wet.

The representation lasted till about half-past ten, and after our return to the salon the Emperor sent for the artists, who had by this time changed their toilettes. Their Majesties talked long, and, I should say, familiarly with them, and, judging from the way they laughed and chatted, they seemed to feel quite at their ease, especially Coquelin, who apparently put the Emperor in a very good humor. At eleven o'clock refreshments were pa.s.sed round, the carriages were announced, and making a deferential ”reverence” the artists took their leave, carrying with them an ornament with the monograms of their Majesties as a souvenir of their visit.

I never saw the Empress look so beautiful as she did to-night. She certainly is the most exquisite creature, and what is so charming about her is her utter lack of self-consciousness. Her smile is bewitching beyond description, her complexion perfect, her hair of the Venetian type, and her profile cla.s.sical. Her head is so beautifully put on her shoulders, her neck and shoulders are absolutely faultless. None of the many portraits painted of her, not even Winterhalter's, do her the least justice; no brush can paint and no words can describe her charm. I think the famous beauty, Countess Castiglione, cannot begin to compare with her.

Their Majesties withdrew. The guests from the chateau and those from Compiegne took their departure, and we all dispersed to our several apartments.

I am beginning to learn the ways of the life of Compiegne.

At nine o'clock our tea, coffee, or chocolate (as we choose) is brought to our rooms by a white-stockinged and powdered valet.

If you are very energetic, you can go for a walk in the park, or (as I did to my sorrow) a visit to the town. But you are not energetic more than once, because you do not find it worth your while, as you must hurry back, and change your dress and shoes before appearing in the salon a little before eleven o'clock, the hour for breakfast. You remain in the same dress until you change for dinner or the Empress's tea. You find every morning in your room a programme for the day.

_Dejeuner a onze heures.

Cha.s.se a tir a deux heures.

Comedie Francaise a neuf heures._