I knew my lines very well, and my feeling for Madame de Marsan, who looked prettier than ever in the costume of Rosine, imparted to my acting the warmth and genuineness which befit the rôle of a lover like Almaviva. The young man who played Figaro was spirited, good-looking, and daring. We played with great _verve_, our scenes went off excellently, and the audience was delighted. At the moment when Bartholo was to appear at the window with Rosine, Raymond, trying to raise the blind, jerked it so violently that it was detached and fell on the lamps which did duty as footlights; luckily, the sight of Madame de Marsan, who was delicious in her Spanish costume, covered Raymond's awkwardness. The first act went without a hitch. In the second, Raymond, whose memory was fatigued already, could not say a word without the prompter, and he stood in front of his box all the time, with his eyes fixed upon it and his ears strained to hear. Often the prompter had to repeat the words three times, Raymond meanwhile abusing him when he did not prompt, and telling him to be quiet when he did prompt him in some speech that he thought he knew. Thus he made of Bartholo a veritable Cassandra; but such an audience as ours could not fail to be indulgent; moreover, all the other rôles were well done; we entered into the spirit of our parts and filled the stage with animation. We were wildly applauded; and Raymond assumed his share of the applause, although he confused us terribly when he was on the stage with us. The third act began with Raymond on the stage. He walked forward and took his stand in front of the prompter's box. "'What temper! what temper! [_To the prompter_: Why don't you prompt me?] She seemed appeased! Will someone tell me [Don't prompt me.]--will someone tell me who in the devil put it into her head to--to [Prompt me, will you?]--to refuse [What's that? I don't hear you.]--to refuse to take lessons from Don Basile. [Don't prompt me!] She knows that he is interfering about my marriage. Do everything in the world--do--do--[What? what do I say next? What the devil! you don't know how to prompt at the right time!]'" The audience concluded to laugh at our Bartholo; whereat Raymond rubbed his hands with a satisfied air, and, whenever he returned to the wings, exclaimed: "How pleased they are! how it amuses them! No audience at the Français ever laughed so much!" The play came to an end at last, in spite of Raymond, who did all that he could to prevent it; but Rosine's grace, Figaro's hilarity, and, lastly,--for one must do one's self justice,--the warmth, the passion, the ardor which gave life to my performance of Almaviva made the illusion complete; I obtained a brilliant triumph, and I read in Madame de Marsan's eyes the pleasure that my success afforded her.