The first performance of “Hernani” took place on the 21st November, 1877. It was a triumph alike for the author and the actors. “Hernani” had already been played ten years earlier, but Delaunay, who then took the part of _Hernani_, was the exact contrary of what this part should have been. He was neither epic, romantic, nor poetic. He had not the style of these grand times. He was charming, gracious, and with a perpetual smile, of middle height, with studied movements, ideal in Musset, perfect in Emile Augier, charming in Molière, but execrable in Victor Hugo. Bressant, who took the part of _Charles-Quint_, was worst of all. His amiable and flabby style and his weak and wandering eyes effectively prevented all grandeur. His two enormous feet, generally half hidden under his trousers, took on immense proportions. I could see nothing else. They were very large, flat, and slightly turned in at the toes. They were a nightmare! But think of their possessor repeating the admirable couplet of _Charles-Quint_ to the shade of Charlemagne! It was absurd! The public coughed, wriggled, and showed that they found the whole thing painful and ridiculous. In our performance (in 1877) it was Mounet-Sully in all the splendor of his talent who played _Hernani_. And it was Worms, that admirable _artiste_ who played _Charles-Quint_—and how well he took the part! How he rolled out the lines! What a splendid diction he had! This performance of the 21st of November, 1877, was a triumph. The public received me very well in my rôle. I played _Doña Sol_. Victor Hugo sent me this letter: MADAME: You have been great and charming; you have moved me—me, the old man, and at one part, while the public whom you had enchanted cheered you, I wept. This tear which I shed for you, and through you, is at your feet, where I place myself. VICTOR HUGO. With this letter came a small box containing a fine chain bracelet, from which hung one diamond drop. I lost this bracelet at the rich nabob’s, Alfred Sassoon. He would have given me another, but I refused. He could not give me back the tear of Victor Hugo. My success at the Comédie was assured, and the public treated me as a spoiled child. My friends were a little jealous of me. Perrin made trouble for me at every turn. He had a sort of friendship for me, but he could not believe that I could get on without him, and as he always refused to do as I wanted I did not go to him for anything. I sent a letter to the Ministère and I always won my cause. CHAPTER XX A BALLOON ASCENSION