elegantly dressed in a blue dress with white stripes. She
said: "I am weary and disgusted. I asked for Mars' reversion.
They granted me a pension of two thousand
francs which they do not pay. Just a mouthful of bread,
and even that I do not get a chance to eat! They wanted
to engage me at the Historique (at the Théâtre Historique).
I refused. What could I do there among
those transparencies! A stout woman like me! Besides,
where are the authors? Where are the pieces? Where
are the roles? As to the provinces, I tried touring last
year, but it is impossible without Harel.* I don't know
how to manage actors. How do you think I can get on
with these evil doers? I was to have finished the 24th.
I paid them on the 20th, and fled. I returned to Paris to
visit poor Harel's tomb. It is frightful, a tomb! It is
horrible to see his name there on the stone! Yet I did
not weep. I was dry-eyed and cold. What a strange
thing is life! To think that this man who was so clever,
so witty, should die an idiot! He passed his days doing
like this with his fingers. Not a spark of reason remained.
It is all over. I shall have Rachel at my benefit; I shall
play with her that chestnut "Iphigênie". We shall make
money, but I don't care. Besides, I'm sure she wouldn't
play Rodogune! I will also play, if you will permit me,
an act of "Lucrèce Borgia". You see, I am for Rachel;
she is an artful one, if you like. See how she checkmates
those rascally French actors! She renews her engagements,
assures for herself pyrotechnics, vacations, heaps
of gold. When the contract is signed she says: "By the
bye, I forgot to tell you that I have been enceinte for