Nothing seems to have delighted Mlle. Guimard more than scandalising the devout, and it must be admitted that the entertainments which she gave in her two theatres at Pantin and the Chaussée-d’Antin contributed very effectively to that end. In the early spring of 1776, she conceived the idea of organising “a picnic of scandalous immorality, a picnic such as French society had never yet beheld.” There was to be a play, needless to say of a very free and easy kind, in which Mlle. Guimard herself was to take part, and the famous courtesan, Mlle. Duthé, to dance. Then Mlle. Dervieux was charged to order from a fashionable _traiteur_ a sumptuous supper. And the play and the supper were to be followed by a ball, gambling for colossal stakes--it is to be presumed the ladies did not intend to risk their own money--and “everything which could accompany an orgy of this nature.” The fête, originally fixed for the Carnival, had been postponed to the first Thursday in Lent, in order, say the _Mémoires secrets_, to render it more singular and more celebrated. All was arranged, the play staged, the supper prepared, when, on the complaint of Mlle. Guimard’s enemy, the Archbishop of Paris, the King interfered and sent an order prohibiting play, ball, and supper. The Comte d’Artois and the Duc de Chartres, both of whom were to assist at the entertainment, did everything in their power to obtain a reversal of the order, but without success; and the commandant of the watch received instructions to post men in the streets leading from the _traiteur’s_ shop to the Chaussée-d’Antin, to intercept the supper on its way to Mlle. Guimard’s hôtel. Under these circumstances, the _danseuse_ and her friends decided that the only thing to be done was to abandon the proposed entertainment, and send the supper to the curé of Saint-Roch, for distribution among the sick poor of his parish. And, as each of the subscribers to the prohibited picnic had contributed the sum of five louis, the wits named it, “_le repas des Chevaliers de Saint-Louis_.” Nevertheless, in spite of the archbishop and the _dévots_, the theatre of the Chaussée-d’Antin continued to flourish and to number amongst its patrons Princes of the Blood, _grands seigneurs_ of the Court, and courtesans of the highest distinction. The parody of _Ernelinde_, composed by the dancer Despréaux, performed there in September 1777, enjoyed an immense success, and was commanded to be represented before the Court at Choisy, the following month, when the young King, who had hitherto shown but little taste for the theatre, laughed so immoderately throughout the three acts, that he bestowed a pension on the dancer. * * * * *