“See how he hobbles along and leans over on one side!” “That won’t do any harm in his part; he will suggest Ligier in _Richard the Third_, at a distance.” Monsieur Glumeau came on the stage, saying in a most affecting manner: “Ah! my friends, I don’t know whether I shall be able to play; this infernal pain doesn’t leave me; it’s terrible!” “It isn’t anything, Monsieur Glumeau--a strained muscle.” “Or perhaps it’s only wind, a gust of wind that has lodged there.” “Do you think so? Ten thousand bombs! if I only knew that!” “I am not at all anxious to stand beside him!” muttered Miaulard, walking away. “Everybody’s ready,” said little Astianax, muffled up in a cuirass and buckler and helmet, and brandishing a lance which was twice as long as himself. “Where is my sister, where is Cunégonde?” “Here I am!” cried Mademoiselle Eolinde, dressed as a Malabar widow. “I have my p--p--part at the end of my f--f--fingers.” “Let us begin then.” “One moment!” said Monsieur Glumeau; “before we begin, I want to drink a glass of anise water; someone has gone to fetch it for me.” “What is going to happen, great heavens? what is going to happen?” exclaimed Miaulard, walking still farther away from Monsieur Glumeau. At last, in place of anise water, they brought Monsieur Glumeau some anisette; he drank two small glasses of it and consented that the play should begin. The signal was given. The amateur musicians executed a polka which would pass very well for the overture to a melodrama. The curtain rose, and applause burst forth on all sides; the audience was delighted with the scenery; no curtain had been hung at the rear, and the veritable forest, lighted here and there, produced a magical effect. And then the odd costumes of the actors heightened the enthusiasm of the audience. The hermit’s cotton beard, the chevalier’s helmet, the vizor of which persisted in falling over young Astianax’s nose, the wooden swords and daggers, everything, even to the dragging gait and foolish expression of the tyrant, combined to enchant the spectators; but when the young druggist appeared as Détroussandos, when he strode across the stage with his tights surmounted by drawers, bursts of laughter arose in every direction, and the little lady who was seated on the branch of a tree was seized with such a paroxysm of hilarity that several times, as she squirmed about, she almost fell; luckily Chambourdin was still in his place, ready to restore equilibrium over his head.