"Let us begin, the audience is growing restive," said the manager; "we mustn't keep them waiting any longer. Thésée will certainly be on hand for the third act." "It is undoubtedly his costume that detains him," said Dubourg; "he's very particular about having his costume just what it should be, and he never puts in a pin except in the way tradition demands." The manager, who was also prompter, stage manager, and scene shifter, struck the traditional three blows, then drew the curtain, which at first disclosed only half of the stage; but with the assistance of two spectators, who came on the stage, he succeeded in drawing it entirely aside. Thereupon he went down into his box, with a candlestick in his hand, and the play began. When Dubourg stalked upon the stage, majestically enveloped in his cloak, the audience emitted a murmur of surprise, which was not precisely admiration; for, with his huge wig, the rouge trickling down his cheeks, and his old musket over his shoulder, Dubourg was far from attractive to look upon. Judging from the head they had seen a moment before, they had expected to see a magnificent man of lofty stature; but, on the contrary, the cloak seemed to crush him, and Théramène, being very tall, made him appear even shorter than he was. "He's a Pole," said the spectators. "He's terribly ugly," said the young women; "but he is said to have great talent." Dubourg rolled his eyes in terrifying fashion, to give character to his face; while the unlucky Théramène, whose head touched the flies, was obliged to stoop, so that his wig should not sweep the spiders' webs from the ceiling of the palace. Dubourg, who was not at all timid, shouted his lines like a deaf man, and gesticulated so wildly that, before the end of the first scene, Théramène had been struck twice by him. At the third blow, the wigmaker began to lose his temper, and muttered between his teeth: "Sacrebleu! look out what you're doing! if you go on like this, I shall be like a baked apple before the end of the play." But the audience were delighted with his spirited acting; they applauded and cried _bravo_! Dubourg continued as he had begun, but not without alarming one woman in the pit who, being singularly affected by his contortions, left the place. The first act went very well; but the audience manifested some little surprise when, instead of seeing Panope appear, they heard the prompter reading the rôle in his box; but, as it was not long, they let it pass, especially as Floridor, turning toward the pit, explained: "Messieurs, the rôles of confidants are almost always given in this way in towns of the third order." But Thésée had not arrived. "What in the devil can he be doing at the inn?" said Dubourg; "do you suppose he can't put on his costume?" "Impossible!" said the manager; "I sent him a superb yellow tunic, and trousers of the same stuff; for his diadem he has a turban of the same color, that I use in _Mahomet_."