“Eh? What? What do they want me for? Oh, it’s my turn!
You ought to have said so. All right! Simonne gives the cue: ‘Here are the guests,’ and I come in. Which way must THE PETITE DUCHESSE was being rehearsed at the I come in?” Varietes. The first act had just been carefully gone
“Through the door, of course,” cried Fauchery in great through, and the second was about to begin.
exasperation.
Seated in old armchairs in front of the stage, Fauchery and
“Yes, but where is the door?”
Bordenave were discussing various points while the At this Bordenave fell upon Barillot and once more set prompter, Father Cossard, a little humpbacked man perched to work swearing and hammering the boards with his cane.
on a straw-bottomed chair, was turning over the pages of
“By God! I said a chair was to be put there to stand for the manuscript, a pencil between his lips.
the door, and every day we have to get it done again.
“Well, what are they waiting for?” cried Bordenave on a Barillot! Where’s Barillot? Another of ‘em! Why, they’re sudden, tapping the floor savagely with his heavy cane.
all going!”
“Barillot, why don’t they begin?” Nevertheless, Barillot came and planted the chair down
“It’s Monsieur Bosc that has disappeared,” replied in person, mutely weathering the storm as he did so. And Barillot, who was acting as second stage manager.’
the rehearsal began again. Simonne, in her hat and furs, Then there arose a tempest, and everybody shouted for began moving about like a maidservant busy arranging fur-Bosc while Bordenave swore.
niture. She paused to say:
“Always the same thing, by God! It’s all very well ring-
“I’m not warm, you know, so I keep my hands in my muff.” ing for ‘em: they’re always where they’ve no business to Then changing her voice, she greeted Bosc with a little cry: be. And then they grumble when they’re kept till after four
“La, it’s Monsieur le Comte. You’re the first to come, o’clock.”
Monsieur le Comte, and Madame will be delighted.” But Bosc just then came in with supreme tranquillity.
Bosc had muddy trousers and a huge yellow overcoat, 235
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round the collar of which a tremendous comforter was burned in front of a reflector and cast its full brightness over wound. On his head he wore an old hat, and he kept his the immediate foreground. It looked like a big yellow eye hands in his pockets. He did not act but dragged himself glaring through the surrounding semiobscurity, where it along, remarking in a hollow voice: flamed in a doubtful, melancholy way. Cossard was holding
“Don’t disturb your mistress, Isabelle; I want to take her up his manuscript against the slender stem of this arrange-by surprise.”
ment. He wanted to see more clearly, and in the flood of The rehearsal took its course. Bordenave knitted his brows.
light his hump was sharply outlined. As to Bordenave and He had slipped down low in his armchair and was listening Fauchery, they were already drowned in shadow. It was only with an air of fatigue. Fauchery was nervous and kept shift-in the heart of this enormous structure, on a few square yards ing about in his seat. Every few minutes he itched with the of stage, that a faint glow suggested the light cast by some desire to interrupt, but he restrained himself. He heard a lantern nailed up in a railway station. It made the actors look whispering in the dark and empty house behind him.
like eccentric phantoms and set their shadows dancing after
“Is she there?” he asked, leaning over toward Bordenave.
them. The remainder of the stage was full of mist and sug-The latter nodded affirmatively. Before accepting the part gested a house in process of being pulled down, a church of Geraldine, which he was offering her, Nana had been anx-nave in utter ruin. It was littered with ladders, with set pieces ious to see the piece, for she hesitated to play a courtesan’s and with scenery, of which the faded painting suggested part a second time. She, in fact, aspired to an honest woman’s heaped-up rubbish. Hanging high in air, the scenes had the part. Accordingly she was hiding in the shadows of a corner appearance of great ragged clouts suspended from the rafters box in company with Labordette, who was managing mat-of some vast old-clothes shop, while above these again a ray ters for her with Bordenave. Fauchery glanced in her direc-of bright sunlight fell from a window and clove the shadow tion and then once more set himself to follow the rehearsal.
round the flies with a bar of gold.
Only the front of the stage was lit up. A flaring gas burner Meanwhile actors were chatting at the back of the stage on a support, which was fed by a pipe from the footlights, while awaiting their cues. Little by little they had raised 236
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their voices.
be put on nowadays without its getting on his nerves.”
“Confound it, will you be silent?” howled Bordenave, Bosc shrugged his shoulders; he was above such storms.
raging up and down in his chair. “I can’t hear a word. Go Fontan whispered:
outside if you want to talk; we are at work. Barillot, if
“He’s afraid of a fiasco. The piece strikes me as idiotic.” there’s any more talking I clap on fines all round!” Then he turned to Clarisse and again referred to what They were silent for a second or two. They were sitting Rose had been telling them:
in a little group on a bench and some rustic chairs in the
“D’you believe in the offers of the Folies people, eh?
corner of a scenic garden, which was standing ready to be Three hundred francs an evening for a hundred nights! Why put in position as it would be used in the opening act the not a country house into the bargain? If his wife were to be same evening. In the middle of this group Fontan and given three hundred francs Mignon would chuck my friend Prulliere were listening to Rose Mignon, to whom the Bordenave and do it jolly sharp too!” manager of the Folies-Dramatique Theatre had been mak-Clarisse was a believer in the three hundred francs. That ing magnificent offers. But a voice was heard shouting: man Fontan was always picking holes in his friends’ suc-
“The duchess! Saint-Firmin! The duchess and Saint-cesses! Just then Simonne interrupted her. She was shiver-Firmin are wanted!”
ing with cold. Indeed, they were all buttoned up to the ears Only when the call was repeated did Prulliere remember and had comforters on, and they looked up at the ray of that he was Saint-Firmin! Rose, who was playing the Duch-sunlight which shone brightly above them but did not peness Helene, was already waiting to go on with him while etrate the cold gloom of the theater. In the streets outside old Bosc slowly returned to his seat, dragging one foot there was a frost under a November sky.
after the other over the sonorous and deserted boards.
“And there’s no fire in the greenroom!” said Simonne.
Clarisse offered him a place on the bench beside her.
“It’s disgusting; he is just becoming a skinflint! I want to
“What’s he bawling like that for?” she said in allusion to be off; I don’t want to get seedy.” Bordenave. “Things will be getting rosy soon! A piece can’t
“Silence, I say!” Bordenave once more thundered.
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Then for a minute or so a confused murmur alone was region of the stalls with its pendants as to suggest a flitting audible as the actors went on repeating their parts. There and to set one thinking that the public had started on a was scarcely any appropriate action, and they spoke in even journey from which they would never return.
tones so as not to tire themselves. Nevertheless, when they Just about then Rose, as the little duchess who has been did emphasize a particular shade of meaning they cast a misled into the society of a courtesan, came to the footlights, glance at the house, which lay before them like a yawning lifted up her hands and pouted adorably at the dark and empty gulf. It was suffused with vague, ambient shadow, which theater, which was as sad as a house of mourning.
resembled the fine dust floating pent in some high, win-
“Good heavens, what queer people!” she said, emphasiz-dowless loft. The deserted house, whose sole illumination ing the phrase and confident that it would have its effect.
was the twilight radiance of the stage, seemed to slumber Far back in the corner box in which she was hiding Nana in melancholy and mysterious effacement. Near the ceiling sat enveloped in a great shawl. She was listening to the dense night smothered the frescoes, while from the several play and devouring Rose with her eyes. Turning toward tiers of stage boxes on either hand huge widths of gray Labordette, she asked him in a low tone: canvas stretched down to protect the neighboring hang-
“You are sure he’ll come?”
ings. In fact, there was no end to these coverings; bands of
“Quite sure. Without doubt he’ll come with Mignon, so canvas had been thrown over the velvet-covered ledges in as to have an excuse for coming. As soon as he makes his front of the various galleries which they shrouded thickly.
appearance you’ll go up into Mathilde’s dressing room, Their pale hue stained the surrounding shadows, and of and I’ll bring him to you there.” the general decorations of the house only the dark recesses They were talking of Count Muffat. Labordette had ar-of the boxes were distinguishable. These served to outline ranged this interview with him on neutral ground. He had the framework of the several stories, where the seats were had a serious talk with Bordenave, whose affairs had been so many stains of red velvet turned black. The chandelier gravely damaged by two successive failures. Accordingly had been let down as far as it would go, and it so filled the Bordenave had hastened to lend him his theater and to of-238
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fer Nana a part, for he was anxious to win the count’s his peace with Geraldine by dint of kisses and caresses. As favor and hoped to be able to borrow from him.
this last lady’s part had not yet been assigned to anyone,
“And this part of Geraldine, what d’you thing of it?” con-Father Cossard had got up to read it, and he was now fig-tinued Labordette.
uring away in Bosc’s arms and emphasizing it despite him-But Nana sat motionless and vouchsafed no reply. After self. At this point, while the rehearsal was dragging mothe first act, in which the author showed how the Duc de notonously on, Fauchery suddenly jumped from his chair.
Beaurivage played his wife false with the blonde Geraldine, He had restrained himself up to that moment, but now his a comic-opera celebrity, the second act witnessed the Duch-nerves got the better of him.
ess Helene’s arrival at the house of the actress on the occa-
“That’s not it!” he cried.
sion of a masked ball being given by the latter. The duch-The actors paused awkwardly enough while Fontan ess has come to find out by what magical process ladies of sneered and asked in his most contemptuous voice: that sort conquer and retain their husbands’ affections. A
“Eh? What’s not it? Who’s not doing it right?” cousin, the handsome Oscar de Saint-Firmin, introduces
“Nobody is! You’re quite wrong, quite wrong!” contin-her and hopes to be able to debauch her. And her first les-ued Fauchery, and, gesticulating wildly, he came striding son causes her great surprise, for she hears Geraldine swear-over the stage and began himself to act the scene.
ing like a hodman at the duke, who suffers with most ec-
“Now look here, you Fontan, do please comprehend the static submissiveness. The episode causes her to cry out, way Tardiveau gets packed off. You must lean forward
“Dear me, if that’s the way one ought to talk to the men!” like this in order to catch hold of the duchess. And then Geraldine had scarce any other scene in the act save this you, Rose, must change your position like that but not too one. As to the duchess, she is very soon punished for her soon—only when you hear the kiss.” curiosity, for an old buck, the Baron de Tardiveau, takes He broke off and in the heat of explanation shouted to Cossard: her for a courtesan and becomes very gallant, while on her
“Geraldine, give the kiss! Loudly, so that it may be heard!” other side Beaurivage sits on a lounging chair and makes Father Cossard turned toward Bosc and smacked his lips 239
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vigorously.
But suddenly he sat bolt upright.
“Good! That’s the kiss,” said Fauchery triumphantly.
“It’s idiotic, my boy,” he announced quietly to Fauchery.
“Once more; let’s have it once more. Now you see, Rose,
“What d’you mean, idiotic?” cried the author, growing I’ve had time to move, and then I give a little cry—so: very pale. “It’s you that are the idiot, my dear boy!”
‘Oh, she’s given him a kiss.’ But before I do that, Tardiveau Bordenave began to get angry at once. He repeated the must go up the stage. D’you hear, Fontan? You go up.
word “idiotic” and, seeking a more forcible expression, hit Come, let’s try it again, all together.” upon “imbecile” and “damned foolish.” The public would The actors continued the scene again, but Fontan played hiss, and the act would never be finished! And when his part with such an ill grace that they made no sort of Fauchery, without, indeed, being very deeply wounded by progress. Twice Fauchery had to repeat his explanation, these big phrases, which always recurred when a new piece each time acting it out with more warmth than before. The was being put on, grew savage and called the other a brute, actors listened to him with melancholy faces, gazed mo-Bordenave went beyond all bounds, brandished his cane in mentarily at one another, as though he had asked them to the air, snorted like a bull and shouted: walk on their heads, and then awkwardly essayed the pas-
“Good God! Why the hell can’t you shut up? We’ve lost sage, only to pull up short directly afterward, looking as a quarter of an hour over this folly. Yes, folly! There’s no stiff as puppets whose strings have just been snapped.
sense in it. And it’s so simple, after all’s said and done!
“No, it beats me; I can’t understand it,” said Fontan at You, Fontan, mustn’t move. You, Rose, must make your length, speaking in the insolent manner peculiar to him.
little movement, just that, no more; d’ye see? And then Bordenave had never once opened his lips. He had slipped you come down. Now then, let’s get it done this journey.
quite down in his armchair, so that only the top of his hat Give the kiss, Cossard.”
was now visible in the doubtful flicker of the gaslight on Then ensued confusion. The scene went no better than the stand. His cane had fallen from his grasp and lay slant-before. Bordenave, in his turn, showed them how to act it wise across his waistcoat. Indeed, he seemed to be asleep.
about as gracefully as an elephant might have done, while 240
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Fauchery sneered and shrugged pityingly. After that Fontan his usual voice and was perfectly calm.
put his word in, and even Bosc made so bold as to give ad-
“Yes, let’s go on,” Fauchery repeated. “We’ll arrange the vice. Rose, thoroughly tired out, had ended by sitting down scene tomorrow.”
on the chair which indicated the door. No one knew where And with that they dragged on again and rehearsed their they had got to, and by way of finish to it all Simonne made a parts with as much listlessness and as fine an indifference premature entry, under the impression that her cue as ever. During the dispute between manager and author had been given her, and arrived amid the confusion. This so Fontan and the rest had been taking things very comfort-enraged Bordenave that he whirled his stick round in a terrific ably on the rustic bench and seats at the back of the stage, manner and caught her a sounding thwack to the rearward.
where they had been chuckling, grumbling and saying At rehearsal he used frequently to drub his former mistress.
fiercely cutting things. But when Simonne came back, still Simonne ran away, and this furious outcry followed her: smarting from her blow and choking with sobs, they grew
“Take that, and, by God, if I’m annoyed again I shut the melodramatic and declared that had they been in her place whole shop up at once!”
they would have strangled the swine. She began wiping Fauchery pushed his hat down over his forehead and preher eyes and nodding approval. It was all over between tended to be going to leave the theater. But he stopped at them, she said. She was leaving him, especially as Steiner the top of the stage and came down again when he saw had offered to give her a grand start in life only the day Bordenave perspiringly resuming his seat. Then he, too, took before. Clarisse was much astonished at this, for the banker up his old position in the other armchair. For some seconds was quite ruined, but Prulliere began laughing and reminded they sat motionless side by side while oppressive silence them of the neat manner in which that confounded Israel-reigned in the shadowy house. The actors waited for nearly ite had puffed himself alongside of Rose in order to get his two minutes. They were all heavy with exhaustion and felt Landes saltworks afloat on ‘change. Just at that time he as though they had performed an overwhelming task.
was airing a new project, namely, a tunnel under the
“Well, let’s go on,” said Bordenave at last. He spoke in Bosporus. Simonne listened with the greatest interest to 241
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this fresh piece of information.
But Bordenave emerged from his quiescent condition, As to Clarisse, she had been raging for a week past. Just shouting:
fancy, that beast La Faloise, whom she had succeeded in
“What’s up, eh? Finish the act, I say. And be quiet out chucking into Gaga’s venerable embrace, was coming into there; it’s unbearable!”
the fortune of a very rich uncle! It was just her luck; she Nana was still following the piece from the corner box.
had always been destined to make things cozy for other Twice Labordette showed an inclination to chat, but she people. Then, too, that pig Bordenave had once more given grew impatient and nudged him to make him keep silent.
her a mere scrap of a part, a paltry fifty lines, just as if she The second act was drawing to a close, when two shad-could not have played Geraldine! She was yearning for ows loomed at the back of the theater. They were creeping that role and hoping that Nana would refuse it.
softly down, avoiding all noise, and Nana recognized Mi-
“Well, and what about me?” said Prulliere with much gnon and Count Muffat. They came forward and silently bitterness. “I haven’t got more than two hundred lines. I shook hands with Bordenave.
wanted to give the part up. It’s too bad to make me play
“Ah, there they are,” she murmured with a sigh of relief.
that fellow Saint-Firmin; why, it’s a regular failure! And Rose Mignon delivered the last sentences of the act. There-then what a style it’s written in, my dears! It’ll fall dead upon Bordenave said that it was necessary to go through flat, you may be sure.”
the second again before beginning the third. With that he left But just then Simonne, who had been chatting with Fa-off attending to the rehearsal and greeted the count with ther Barillot, came back breathless and announced: looks of exaggerated politeness, while Fauchery pretended
“By the by, talking of Nana, she’s in the house.” to be entirely engrossed with his actors, who now grouped
“Where, where?” asked Clarisse briskly, getting up to themselves round him. Mignon stood whistling carelessly, look for her.
with his hands behind his back and his eyes fixed compla-The news spread at once, and everyone craned forward.
cently on his wife, who seemed rather nervous.
The rehearsal was, as it were, momentarily interrupted.
“Well, shall we go upstairs?” Labordette asked Nana.
242
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“I’ll install you in the dressing room and come down again
“We’ll see about that all in good time.” and fetch him.”
And she rejoined Labordette, who was waiting for her on Nana forthwith left the corner box. She had to grope her the stairs. Everybody in the theater had recognized her, and way along the passage outside the stalls, but Bordenave there was now much whispering, especially between Prulliere, guessed where she was as she passed along in the dark and who was scandalized at her return, and Clarisse who was caught her up at the end of the corridor passing behind the very desirous of the part. As to Fontan, he looked coldly on, scenes, a narrow tunnel where the gas burned day and night.
pretending unconcern, for he did not think it becoming to Here, in order to bluff her into a bargain, he plunged into a round on a woman he had loved. Deep down in his heart, discussion of the courtesan’s part.
though, his old love had turned to hate, and he nursed the
“What a part it is, eh? What a wicked little part! It’s fiercest rancor against her in return for the constant devo-made for you. Come and rehearse tomorrow.” tion, the personal beauty, the life in common, of which his Nana was frigid. She wanted to know what the third act perverse and monstrous tastes had made him tire.
was like.
In the meantime, when Labordette reappeared and went
“Oh, it’s superb, the third act is! The duchess plays the up to the count, Rose Mignon, whose suspicions Nana’s courtesan in her own house and this disgusts Beaurivage presence had excited, understood it all forthwith. Muffat and makes him amend his way. Then there’s an awfully was bothering her to death, but she was beside herself at funny quid pro quo, when Tardiveau arrives and is under the thought of being left like this. She broke the silence the impression that he’s at an opera dancer’s house.” which she usually maintained on such subjects in her
“And what does Geraldine do in it all?” interrupted Nana.
husband’s society and said bluntly:
“Geraldine?” repeated Bordenave in some embarrass-
“You see what’s going on? My word, if she tries the ment. “She has a scene—not a very long one, but a great Steiner trick on again I’ll tear her eyes out!” success. It’s made for you, I assure you! Will you sign?” Tranquilly and haughtily Mignon shrugged his shoulders, She looked steadily at him and at length made answer: as became a man from whom nothing could be hidden.
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“Do be quiet,” he muttered. “Do me the favor of being then, Barillot! Eh? What? Isn’t Bosc there? Is he bloody quiet, won’t you?”
well making game of me now?”
He knew what to rely on now. He had drained his Muffat Bosc, however, made his appearance quietly enough, and dry, and he knew that at a sign from Nana he was ready to the rehearsal began again just as Labordette was taking lie down and be a carpet under her feet. There is no fight-the count away with him. The latter was tremulous at the ing against passions such as that. Accordingly, as he knew thought of seeing Nana once more. After the rupture had what men were, he thought of nothing but how to turn the taken place between them there had been a great void in situation to the best possible account.
his life. He was idle and fancied himself about to suffer It would be necessary to wait on the course of events.
through the sudden change his habits had undergone, and And he waited on them.
accordingly he had let them take him to see Rose. Besides,
“Rose, it’s your turn!” shouted Bordenave. “The second his brain had been in such a whirl that he had striven to act’s being begun again.”
forget everything and had strenuously kept from seeking
“Off with you then,” continued Mignon, “and let me ar-out Nana while avoiding an explanation with the countess.
range matters.”
He thought, indeed, that he owed his dignity such a mea-Then he began bantering, despite all his troubles, and was sure of forgetfulness. But mysterious forces were at work pleased to congratulate Fauchery on his piece. A very strong within, and Nana began slowly to reconquer him. First came piece! Only why was his great lady so chaste? It wasn’t natu-thoughts of her, then fleshly cravings and finally a new set ral! With that he sneered and asked who had sat for the of exclusive, tender, well-nigh paternal feelings.
portrait of the Duke of Beaurivage, Geraldine’s wornout The abominable events attendant on their last interview roue. Fauchery smiled; he was far from annoyed. But were gradually effacing themselves. He no longer saw Bordenave glanced in Muffat’s direction and looked vexed, Fontan; he no longer heard the stinging taunt about his and Mignon was struck at this and became serious again.
wife’s adultery with which Nana cast him out of doors.
“Let’s begin, for God’s sake!” yelled the manager. “Now These things were as words whose memory vanished. Yet 244
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deep down in his heart there was a poignant smart which
“The right-hand passage on the second floor. The door’s wrung him with such increasing pain that it nigh choked not shut.”
him. Childish ideas would occur to him; he imagined that Muffat was alone in that silent corner of the house. As he she would never have betrayed him if he had really loved passed before the players’ waiting room, he had peeped her, and he blamed himself for this. His anguish was becom-through the open doors and noticed the utter dilapidation ing unbearable; he was really very wretched. His was the of the vast chamber, which looked shamefully stained and pain of an old wound rather than the blind, present desire worn in broad daylight. But what surprised him most as he which puts up with everything for the sake of immediate emerged from the darkness and confusion of the stage was possession. He felt a jealous passion for the woman and was the pure, clear light and deep quiet at present pervading haunted by longings for her and her alone, her hair, her mouth, the lofty staircase, which one evening when he had seen it her body. When he remembered the sound of her voice a before had been bathed in gas fumes and loud with the shiver ran through him; he longed for her as a miser might footsteps of women scampering over the different floors.
have done, with refinements of desire beggaring descrip-He felt that the dressing rooms were empty, the corridors tion. He was, in fact, so dolorously possessed by his passion deserted; not a soul was there; not a sound broke the still-that when Labordette had begun to broach the subject of an ness, while through the square windows on the level of the assignation he had thrown himself into his arms in obedi-stairs the pale November sunlight filtered and cast yellow ence to irresistible impulse. Directly afterward he had, of patches of light, full of dancing dust, amid the dead, peaceful course, been ashamed of an act of self-abandonment which air which seemed to descend from the regions above.
could not but seem very ridicubus in a man of his position; He was glad of this calm and the silence, and he went but Labordette was one who knew when to see and when slowly up, trying to regain breath as he went, for his heart not to see things, and he gave a further proof of his tact was thumping, and he was afraid lest he might behave child-when he left the count at the foot of the stairs and without ishly and give way to sighs and tears. Accordingly on the effort let slip only these simple words: first-floor landing he leaned up against a wall—for he was 245
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sure of not being observed—and pressed his handkerchief could hear her broom wildly at work on the mildewed pant-to his mouth and gazed at the warped steps, the iron balus-iles of the narrow court which was buried in shadow. A trade bright with the friction of many hands, the scraped canary, whose cage hung on a shutter, was trilling away paint on the walls—all the squalor, in fact, which that house piercingly. The sound of carriages in the boulevard and of tolerance so crudely displayed at the pale afternoon hour neighboring streets was no longer audible, and the quiet when courtesans are asleep. When he reached the second and the wide expanse of sleeping sunlight suggested the floor he had to step over a big yellow cat which was lying country. Looking farther afield, her eye fell on the small curled