At nine o'clock in the evening the body of the house at the Theatres des Varietes was still all but empty. A few individuals, it is true, were sitting quietly waiting in the balcony and stalls, but these were lost, as it were, among the ranges of seats whose coverings of cardinal² velvet⁴ loomed⁵ in the subdued⁶ light of the dimly burning luster⁸. A shadow enveloped⁹ the great red splash of the curtain, and not a sound came from the stage, the unlit footlights, the scattered¹⁰ desks of the orchestra. It was only high overhead in the third gallery, round the domed¹² ceiling where nude¹³ females and children flew in heavens which had turned green in the gaslight, that calls and laughter were audible above a continuous hubbub¹⁴ of voices, and heads in women's and workmen's caps were ranged, row above row, under the wide-vaulted bays with their gilt¹⁵-surrounding adornments. Every few seconds an attendant would make her appearance, bustling¹⁶ along with tickets in her hand and piloting in front of her a gentleman and a lady, who took their seats, he in his evening dress, she sitting slim and undulant beside him while her eyes wandered slowly round the house.

Two young men appeared in the stalls; they kept standing¹⁷ and looked about them.

"Didn't I say so, Hector?" cried the elder of the two, a tall fellow with little black mustaches. "We're too early! You might quite well have allowed me to finish my cigar."

An attendant was passing.

"Oh, Monsieur Fauchery," she said familiarly, "it won't begin for half an hour yet!"

"Then why do they advertise for nine o'clock?" muttered Hector, whose long thin face assumed an expression of vexation. "Only this morning Clarisse, who's in the piece, swore that they'd begin at nine o'clock punctually."

For a moment they remained silent and, looking upward, scanned the shadowy boxes. But the green paper with which these were hung rendered them more shadowy still. Down below, under the dress circle, the lower boxes were buried in utter night. In those on the second tier there was only one stout¹⁸ lady, who was stranded¹⁹, as it were, on the velvet-covered balustrade in front of her. On the right hand and on the left, between lofty pilasters, the stage boxes, bedraped with long-fringed scalloped hangings, remained untenanted. The house with its white and gold, relieved by soft green tones, lay only half disclosed to view, as though full of a fine dust shed from the little jets of flame in the great glass luster.

"Did you get your stage box for Lucy?" asked Hector.

"Yes," replied his companion, "but I had some trouble to get it. Oh, there's no danger of Lucy coming too early!"

He stifled²⁰ a slight yawn; then after a pause:

"You're in luck's way, you are, since you haven't been at a first night before. The Blonde Venus will be the event of the year. People have been talking about it for six months. Oh, such music, my dear boy! Such a sly dog, Bordenave! He knows his business and has kept this for the exhibition season." Hector was religiously attentive²¹. He asked a question.

"And Nana, the new star who's going to play Venus, d'you know her?"

"There you are; you're beginning again!" cried Fauchery, casting up his arms. "Ever since this morning people have been dreeing me with Nana. I've met more than twenty people, and it's Nana here and Nana there! What do I know? Am I acquainted with all the light ladies in Paris? Nana is an invention of Bordenave's! It must be a fine one!"

He calmed himself, but the emptiness of the house, the dim light of the luster, the churchlike sense of self-absorption which the place inspired, full as it was of whispering voices and the sound of doors banging--all these got on his nerves.

"No, by Jove," he said all of a sudden, "one's hair turns gray here. I--I'm going out. Perhaps we shall find Bordenave downstairs. He'll give us information about things."

Downstairs in the great marble-paved entrance hall, where the box office was, the public were beginning to show themselves. Through the three open gates might have been observed, passing in, the ardent²³ life of the boulevards, which were all astir and aflare under the fine April night. The sound of carriage wheels kept stopping suddenly; carriage doors were noisily shut again, and people began entering in small groups, taking their stand before the ticket bureau and climbing the double flight of stairs at the end of the hall, up which the women loitered with swaying hips²⁵. Under the crude gaslight, round the pale, naked walls of the entrance hall, which with its scanty²⁶ First Empire decorations suggested the peristyle of a toy temple, there was a flaring²⁷ display of lofty yellow posters bearing the name of "Nana" in great black letters. Gentlemen, who seemed to be glued to the entry, were reading them; others, standing about, were engaged in talk, barring the doors of the house in so doing, while hard by the box office a thickset man with an extensive, close-shaven visage was giving rough answers to such as pressed to engage seats.

"There's Bordenave," said Fauchery as he came down the stairs. But the manager had already seen him.

"Ah, ah! You're a nice fellow!" he shouted at him from a distance. "That's the way you give me a notice, is it? Why, I opened my Figaro this morning--never a word!"

"Wait a bit," replied Fauchery. "I certainly must make the acquaintance of your Nana before talking about her. Besides, I've made no promises."

Then to put an end to the discussion, he introduced his cousin, M. Hector de la Faloise, a young man who had come to finish his education in Paris. The manager took the young man's measure at a glance. But Hector returned his scrutiny²⁸ with deep interest. This, then, was that Bordenave, that showman of the sex who treated women like a convict overseer, that clever fellow who was always at full steam over some advertising²⁹ dodge³⁰, that shouting, spitting, thigh-slapping fellow, that cynic with the soul of a policeman! Hector was under the impression that he ought to discover some amiable³¹ observation for the occasion.

"Your theater--" he began in dulcet³² tones.

Bordenave interrupted him with a savage³³ phrase, as becomes a man who dotes on frank situations.

"Call it my brothel!"

At this Fauchery laughed approvingly, while La Faloise stopped with his pretty speech strangled in his throat, feeling very much shocked and striving to appear as though he enjoyed the phrase. The manager had dashed off to shake hands with a dramatic critic whose column had considerable influence. When he returned La Faloise was recovering. He was afraid of being treated as a provincial³⁴ if he showed himself too much nonplused.

"I have been told," he began again, longing³⁵ positively³⁶ to find something to say, "that Nana has a delicious voice."

"Nana?" cried the manager, shrugging his shoulders. "The voice of a squirt!"

The young man made haste to add:

"Besides being a first-rate comedian³⁷!"

"She? Why she's a lump! She has no notion what to do with her hands and feet."

La Faloise blushed a little. He had lost his bearings. He stammered³⁸:

"I wouldn't have missed this first representation tonight for the world. I was aware that your theater--"

"Call it my brothel," Bordenave again interpolated with the frigid³⁹ obstinacy⁴⁰ of a man convinced.

Meanwhile Fauchery, with extreme calmness, was looking at the women as they came in. He went to his cousin's rescue when he saw him all at sea and doubtful whether to laugh or to be angry.

"Do be pleasant to Bordenave--call his theater what he wishes you to, since it amuses him. And you, my dear fellow, don't keep us waiting about for nothing. If your Nana neither sings nor acts you'll find you've made a blunder, that's all. It's what I'm afraid of, if the truth be told."

"A blunder! A blunder!" shouted the manager, and his face grew purple. "Must a woman know how to act and sing? Oh, my chicken, you're too STOOPID. Nana has other good points, by heaven!--Something which is as good as all the other things put together. I've smelled it out; it's deuced pronounced with her, or I've got the scent⁴¹ of an idiot. You'll see, you'll see! She's only got to come on, and all the house will be gaping⁴² at her."

He had held up his big hands which were trembling under the influence of his eager enthusiasm, and now, having relieved his feelings, he lowered his voice and grumbled⁴³ to himself:

"Yes, she'll go far! Oh yes, s'elp me, she'll go far! A skin--oh, what a skin she's got!"

Then as Fauchery began questioning him he consented to enter into a detailed⁴⁵ explanation, couched in phraseology so crude that Hector de la Faloise felt slightly disgusted. He had been thick with Nana, and he was anxious to start her on the stage. Well, just about that time he was in search of a Venus. He--he never let a woman encumber⁴⁶ him for any length of time; he preferred to let the public enjoy the benefit of her forthwith. But there was a deuce of a row going on in his shop, which had been turned topsy-turvy by that big damsel's advent⁴⁸. Rose Mignon, his star, a comic actress of much subtlety⁴⁹ and an adorable singer, was daily threatening to leave him in the lurch⁵⁰, for she was furious and guessed the presence of a rival. And as for the bill, good God! What a noise there had been about it all! It had ended by his deciding to print the names of the two actresses in the same-sized type. But it wouldn't do to bother him. Whenever any of his little women, as he called them--Simonne or Clarisse, for instance--wouldn't go the way he wanted her to he just up with his foot and caught her one in the rear. Otherwise life was impossible. Oh yes, he sold 'em; HE knew what they fetched, the wenches!

"Tut!" he cried, breaking off short. "Mignon and Steiner. Always together. You know, Steiner's getting sick of Rose; that's why the husband dogs his steps now for fear of his slipping away."

On the pavement outside, the row of gas jets flaring on the cornice of the theater cast a patch of brilliant light. Two small trees, violently green, stood sharply out against it, and a column gleamed in such vivid illumination that one could read the notices thereon at a distance, as though in broad daylight, while the dense⁵¹ night of the boulevard beyond was dotted with lights above the vague outline of an ever-moving crowd. Many men did not enter the theater at once but stayed outside to talk while finishing their cigars under the rays of the line of gas jets, which shed a sallow pallor on their faces and silhouetted⁵² their short black shadows on the asphalt. Mignon, a very tall, very broad fellow, with the square-shaped head of a strong man at a fair, was forcing a passage through the midst of the groups and dragging on his arm the banker Steiner, an exceedingly small man with a corporation already in evidence and a round face framed in a setting of beard which was already growing gray.

"Well," said Bordenave to the banker, "you met her yesterday in my office."

"Ah! It was she, was it?" ejaculated Steiner. "I suspected as much. Only I was coming out as she was going in, and I scarcely caught a glimpse of her."

Mignon was listening with half-closed eyelids⁵³ and nervously⁵⁴ twisting a great diamond ring round his finger. He had quite understood that Nana was in question. Then as Bordenave was drawing a portrait of his new star, which lit a flame in the eyes of the banker, he ended by joining in the conversation.

"Oh, let her alone, my dear fellow; she's a low lot! The public will show her the door in quick time. Steiner, my laddie, you know that my wife is waiting for you in her box."

He wanted to take possession of him again. But Steiner would not quit Bordenave. In front of them a stream of people was crowding and crushing against the ticket office, and there was a din³ of voices, in the midst of which the name of Nana sounded with all the melodious⁵⁵ vivacity⁵⁶ of its two syllables⁵⁷. The men who stood planted in front of the notices kept spelling it out loudly; others, in an interrogative tone, uttered it as they passed; while the women, at once restless and smiling, repeated it softly with an air of surprise. Nobody knew Nana. Whence had Nana fallen? And stories and jokes, whispered from ear to ear, went the round of the crowd. The name was a caress⁵⁸ in itself; it was a pet name, the very familiarity of which suited every lip. Merely through enunciating it thus, the throng⁵⁹ worked itself into a state of gaiety and became highly good natured. A fever of curiosity urged it forward, that kind of Parisian curiosity which is as violent as an access of positive unreason. Everybody wanted to see Nana. A lady had the flounce of her dress torn off; a man lost his hat.

"Oh, you're asking me too many questions about it!" cried Bordenave, whom a score of men were besieging⁶⁰ with their queries⁶¹. "You're going to see her, and I'm off; they want me."

He disappeared, enchanted⁶² at having fired his public. Mignon shrugged⁶³ his shoulders, reminding Steiner that Rose was awaiting him in order to show him the costume she was about to wear in the first act.

"By Jove! There's Lucy out there, getting down from her carriage," said La Faloise to Fauchery.

It was, in fact, Lucy Stewart, a plain little woman, some forty years old, with a disproportionately long neck, a thin, drawn⁶⁴ face, a heavy mouth, but withal of such brightness, such graciousness of manner, that she was really very charming. She was bringing with her Caroline Hequet and her mother--Caroline a woman of a cold type of beauty, the mother a person of a most worthy⁶⁵ demeanor⁶⁶, who looked as if she were stuffed with straw.

"You're coming with us? I've kept a place for you," she said to Fauchery."Oh, decidedly not! To see nothing!" he made answer. "I've a stall; I prefer being in the stalls."

Lucy grew nettled⁶⁸. Did he not dare show himself in her company? Then, suddenly restraining herself and skipping to another topic:

"Why haven't you told me that you knew Nana?"

"Nana! I've never set eyes on her."

"Honor bright? I've been told that you've been to bed with her."

But Mignon, coming in front of them, his finger to his lips, made them a sign to be silent. And when Lucy questioned him he pointed⁶⁹ out a young man who was passing and murmured:

"Nana's fancy man."

Everybody looked at him. He was a pretty fellow. Fauchery recognized him; it was Daguenet, a young man who had run through three hundred thousand francs in the pursuit of women and who now was dabbling⁷¹ in stocks, in order from time to time to treat them to bouquets⁷³ and dinners. Lucy made the discovery that he had fine eyes.

"Ah, there's Blanche!" she cried. "It's she who told me that you had been to bed with Nana."

Blanche de Sivry, a great fair girl, whose good-looking face showed signs of growing fat, made her appearance in the company of a spare, sedulously⁷⁴ well-groomed and extremely distinguished⁷⁵ man.

"The Count Xavier de Vandeuvres," Fauchery whispered in his companion's ear.

The count and the journalist shook hands, while Blanche and Lucy entered into a brisk, mutual⁷⁶ explanation. One of them in blue, the other in rose-pink, they stood blocking the way with their deeply flounced skirts, and Nana's name kept repeating itself so shrilly⁷⁸ in their conversation that people began to listen to them. The Count de Vandeuvres carried Blanche off. But by this time Nana's name was echoing more loudly than ever round the four walls of the entrance hall amid yearnings sharpened by delay. Why didn't the play begin? The men pulled out their watches; late-comers sprang from their conveyances⁸⁰ before these had fairly drawn up; the groups left the sidewalk, where the passers-by were crossing the now-vacant space of gaslit pavement, craning their necks, as they did so, in order to get a peep into the theater. A street boy came up whistling and planted himself before a notice at the door, then cried out, "Woa, Nana!" in the voice of a tipsy man and hied on his way with a rolling gait and a shuffling⁸¹ of his old boots. A laugh had arisen at this. Gentlemen of unimpeachable⁸² appearance repeated: "Nana, woa, Nana!" People were crushing; a dispute arose at the ticket office, and there was a growing clamor caused by the hum of voices calling on Nana, demanding Nana in one of those accesses of silly facetiousness⁸³ and sheer animalism which pass over mobs.

But above all the din the bell that precedes the rise of the curtain became audible. "They've rung; they've rung!" The rumor⁸⁴ reached the boulevard, and thereupon followed a stampede, everyone wanting to pass in, while the servants of the theater increased their forces. Mignon, with an anxious air, at last got hold of Steiner again, the latter not having been to see Rose's costume. At the very first tinkle⁸⁵ of the bell La Faloise had cloven a way through the crowd, pulling Fauchery with him, so as not to miss the opening scene. But all this eagerness on the part of the public irritated Lucy Stewart. What brutes⁸⁶ were these people to be pushing women like that! She stayed in the rear of them all with Caroline Hequet and her mother. The entrance hall was now empty, while beyond it was still heard the long-drawn rumble⁴⁴ of the boulevard.

"As though they were always funny, those pieces of theirs!" Lucy kept repeating as she climbed the stair.

In the house Fauchery and La Faloise, in front of their stalls, were gazing about them anew. By this time the house was resplendent. High jets of gas illumined the great glass chandelier with a rustling⁸⁷ of yellow and rosy⁸⁸ flames, which rained down a stream of brilliant light from dome¹¹ to floor. The cardinal velvets of the seats were shot with hues⁹⁰ of lake, while all the gilding⁹¹ shonc again, the soft green decorations chastening its effect beneath the too-decided⁶⁷ paintings of the ceiling. The footlights were turned up and with a vivid flood of brilliance⁹³ lit up the curtain, the heavy purple drapery of which had all the richness befitting a palace in a fairy tale and contrasted with the meanness of the proscenium, where cracks showed the plaster under the gilding. The place was already warm. At their music stands the orchestra were tuning⁹⁴ their instruments amid a delicate trilling of flutes⁹⁵, a stifled tooting of horns, a singing of violin notes, which floated forth⁴⁷ amid the increasing uproar⁹⁶ of voices. All the spectators were talking, jostling, settling themselves in a general assault upon seats; and the hustling⁹⁷ rush in the side passages was now so violent that every door into the house was laboriously⁹⁸ admitting the inexhaustible flood of people. There were signals, rustlings of fabrics¹⁰⁰, a continual march past of skirts and head dresses, accentuated¹⁰¹ by the black hue⁸⁹ of a dress coat or a surtout. Notwithstanding this, the rows of seats were little by little getting filled up, while here and there a light toilet stood out from its surroundings, a head with a delicate profile bent¹⁰² forward under its chignon, where flashed the lightning of a jewel. In one of the boxes the tip of a bare shoulder glimmered¹⁰³ like snowy silk. Other ladies, sitting at ease, languidly fanned themselves, following with their gaze the pushing movements of the crowd, while young gentlemen, standing up in the stalls, their waistcoats cut very low, gardenias¹⁰⁴ in their buttonholes, pointed their opera glasses with gloved finger tips.

It was now that the two cousins began searching for the faces of those they knew. Mignon and Steiner were together in a lower box, sitting side by side with their arms leaning for support on the velvet balustrade. Blanche de Sivry seemed to be in sole possession of a stage box on the level of the stalls. But La Faloise examined Daguenet before anyone else, he being in occupation of a stall two rows in front of his own. Close to him, a very young man, seventeen years old at the outside, some truant¹⁰⁵ from college, it may be, was straining wide a pair of fine eyes such as a cherub¹⁰⁶ might have owned. Fauchery smiled when he looked at him.

"Who is that lady in the balcony?" La Faloise asked suddenly. "The lady with a young girl in blue beside her."

He pointed out a large woman who was excessively tight-laced, a woman who had been a blonde and had now become white and yellow of tint¹⁰⁷, her broad face, reddened with paint, looking puffy under a rain of little childish curls.

"It's Gaga," was Fauchery's simple reply, and as this name seemed to astound¹⁰⁸ his cousin, he added:

"You don't know Gaga? She was the delight of the early years of Louis Philippe. Nowadays she drags her daughter about with her wherever she goes."

La Faloise never once glanced at the young girl. The sight of Gaga moved him; his eyes did not leave her again. He still found her very good looking but he dared not say so.

Meanwhile the conductor lifted his violin bow and the orchestra attacked the overture¹⁰⁹. People still kept coming in; the stir and noise were on the increase. Among that public, peculiar¹¹⁰ to first nights and never subject to change, there were little subsections composed of intimate friends, who smilingly forgathered again. Old first-nighters, hat on head, seemed familiar and quite at ease and kept exchanging salutations. All Paris was there, the Paris of literature, of finance and of pleasure. There were many journalists, several authors, a number of stock-exchange people and more courtesans than honest women. It was a singularly mixed world, composed, as it was, of all the talents and tarnished¹¹¹ by all the vices¹¹², a world where the same fatigue¹¹³ and the same fever played over every face. Fauchery, whom his cousin was questioning, showed him the boxes devoted¹¹⁴ to the newspapers and to the clubs and then named the dramatic critics--a lean, dried-up individual with thin, spiteful lips and, chief of all, a big fellow with a good-natured expression, lolling on the shoulder of his neighbor, a young miss over whom he brooded with tender and paternal¹¹⁵ eyes.

But he interrupted himself on seeing La Faloise in the act of bowing to some persons who occupied the box opposite. He appeared surprised.

"What?" he queried¹¹⁶. "You know the Count Muffat de Beuville?"

"Oh, for a long time back," replied Hector. "The Muffats had a property near us. I often go to their house. The count's with his wife and his father-in-law, the Marquis de Chouard."

And with some vanity--for he was happy in his cousin's astonishment--he entered into particulars. The marquis was a councilor of state; the count had recently been appointed chamberlain to the empress. Fauchery, who had caught up his opera glass, looked at the countess, a plump brunette with a white skin and fine dark eyes.

"You shall present me to them between the acts," he ended by saying. "I have already met the count, but I should like to go to them on their Tuesdays."

Energetic cries of "Hush¹¹⁷" came from the upper galleries. The overture had begun, but people were still coming in. Late arrivals were obliging whole rows of spectators to rise; the doors of boxes were banging; loud voices were heard disputing in the passages. And there was no cessation of the sound of many conversations, a sound similar to the loud twittering of talkative sparrows at close of day. All was in confusion; the house was a medley¹¹⁸ of heads and arms which moved to and fro, their owners seating themselves or trying to make themselves comfortable or, on the other hand, excitedly endeavoring to remain standing so as to take a final look round.

The cry of "Sit down, sit down!" came fiercely from the obscure depths of the pit. A shiver of expectation traversed the house: at last people were going to make the acquaintance of this famous Nana with whom Paris had been occupying itself for a whole week!

Little by little, however, the buzz of talk dwindled¹¹⁹ softly down among occasional fresh outbursts of rough speech. And amid this swooning murmur⁷⁰, these perishing sighs of sound, the orchestra struck up the small, lively notes of a waltz with a vagabond rhythm bubbling with roguish laughter. The public were titillated¹²⁰; they were already on the grin. But the gang of clappers in the foremost rows of the pit applauded furiously. The curtain rose.

"By George!" exclaimed La Faloise, still talking away. "There's a man with Lucy."

He was looking at the stage box on the second tier to his right, the front of which Caroline and Lucy were occupying. At the back of this box were observable the worthy countenance¹²¹ of Caroline's mother and the side face of a tall young man with a noble head of light hair and an irreproachable¹²² getup.

"Do look!" La Faloise again insisted. "There's a man there."

Fauchery decided to level his opera glass at the stage box. But he turned round again directly.

"Oh, it's Labordette," he muttered in a careless voice, as though that gentle man's presence ought to strike all the world as though both natural and immaterial.

Behind the cousins people shouted "Silence!" They had to cease talking. A motionless fit now seized the house, and great stretches of heads, all erect¹²³ and attentive, sloped away from stalls to topmost gallery. The first act of the Blonde Venus took place in Olympus, a pasteboard Olympus, with clouds in the wings and the throne of Jupiter on the right of the stage. First of all Iris¹²⁴ and Ganymede, aided by a troupe¹²⁵ of celestial¹²⁶ attendants, sang a chorus while they arranged the seats of the gods for the council. Once again the prearranged applause of the clappers alone burst forth; the public, a little out of their depth, sat waiting. Nevertheless, La Faloise had clapped Clarisse Besnus, one of Bordenave's little women, who played Iris in a soft blue dress with a great scarf of the seven colors of the rainbow looped round her waist.

"You know, she draws up her chemise to put that on," he said to Fauchery, loud enough to be heard by those around him. "We tried the trick this morning. It was all up under her arms and round the small of her back."

But a slight rustling movement ran through the house; Rose Mignon had just come on the stage as Diana. Now though she had neither the face nor the figure for the part, being thin and dark and of the adorable type of ugliness peculiar to a Parisian street child, she nonetheless appeared charming and as though she were a satire¹²⁷ on the personage she represented. Her song at her entrance on the stage was full of lines quaint²² enough to make you cry with laughter and of complaints about Mars, who was getting ready to desert her for the companionship of Venus. She sang it with a chaste⁹² reserve so full of sprightly¹²⁸ suggestiveness that the public warmed amain. The husband and Steiner, sitting side by side, were laughing complaisantly, and the whole house broke out in a roar when Prulliere, that great favorite, appeared as a general, a masquerade Mars, decked with an enormous plume¹²⁹ and dragging along a sword, the hilt of which reached to his shoulder. As for him, he had had enough of Diana; she had been a great deal too coy with him, he averred¹³⁰. Thereupon Diana promised to keep a sharp eye on him and to be revenged. The duet ended with a comic yodel which Prulliere delivered very amusingly with the yell of an angry tomcat. He had about him all the entertaining fatuity¹³¹ of a young leading gentleman whose love affairs prosper¹³², and he rolled around the most swaggering glances, which excited shrill⁷⁷ feminine laughter in the boxes.

Then the public cooled again, for the ensuing scenes were found tiresome¹³³. Old Bosc, an imbecile Jupiter with head crushed beneath the weight of an immense crown, only just succeeded in raising a smile among his audience when he had a domestic altercation¹³⁴ with Juno on the subject of the cook's accounts. The march past of the gods, Neptune¹³⁵, Pluto¹³⁷, Minerva and the rest, was well-nigh spoiling everything. People grew impatient; there was a restless, slowly growing murmur; the audience ceased to take an interest in the performance and looked round at the house. Lucy began laughing with Labordette; the Count de Vandeuvres was craning his neck in conversation behind Blanche's sturdy shoulders, while Fauchery, out of the corners of his eyes, took stock of the Muffats, of whom the count appeared very serious, as though he had not understood the allusions¹³⁸, and the countess smiled vaguely¹³⁹, her eyes lost in reverie. But on a sudden, in this uncomfortable state of things, the applause of the clapping contingent¹⁴⁰ rattled¹⁴¹ out with the regularity¹⁴² of platoon firing. People turned toward the stage. Was it Nana at last? This Nana made one wait with a vengeance¹⁴³.

It was a deputation of mortals whom Ganymede and Iris had introduced, respectable middle-class persons, deceived husbands, all of them, and they came before the master of the gods to proffer¹⁴⁴ a complaint against Venus, who was assuredly inflaming¹⁴⁵ their good ladies with an excess of ardor¹⁴⁶. The chorus, in quaint, dolorous¹⁴⁷ tones, broken by silences full of pantomimic admissions, caused great amusement. A neat phrase went the round of the house: "The cuckolds' chorus, the cuckolds' chorus," and it "caught on," for there was an encore.The singers' heads were droll¹⁴⁸; their faces were discovered to be in keeping with the phrase, especially that of a fat man which was as round as the moon. Meanwhile Vulcan arrived in a towering rage, demanding back his wife who had slipped away three days ago. The chorus resumed their plaint, calling on Vulcan, the god of the cuckolds. Vulcan's part was played by Fontan, a comic actor of talent, at once vulgar and original, and he had a role of the wildest whimsicality and was got up as a village blacksmith, fiery¹⁴⁹ red wig¹⁵⁰, bare arms tattooed¹⁵¹ with arrow-pierced hearts and all the rest of it. A woman's voice cried in a very high key, "Oh, isn't he ugly?" and all the ladies laughed and applauded.

Then followed a scene which seemed interminable. Jupiter in the course of it seemed never to be going to finish assembling the Council of Gods in order to submit thereto the deceived husband's requests. And still no Nana! Was the management keeping Nana for the fall of the curtain then? So long a period of expectancy¹⁵² had ended by annoying the public. Their murmurings began again.

"It's going badly," said Mignon radiantly to Steiner. "She'll get a pretty reception; you'll
see!"

At that very moment the clouds at the back of the stage were cloven apart and Venus appeared. Exceedingly tall, exceedingly strong, for her eighteen years, Nana, in her goddess's white tunic¹⁵³ and with her light hair simply flowing unfastened over her shoulders, came down to the footlights with a quiet certainty of movement and a laugh of greeting for the public and struck up her grand ditty:

"When Venus roams at eventide."

From the second verse onward¹⁵⁴ people looked at each other all over the house. Was this some jest, some wager¹⁵⁵ on Bordenave's part? Never had a more tuneless voice been heard or one managed with less art. Her manager judged of her excellently; she certainly sang like a squirt. Nay¹⁵⁶, more, she didn't even know how to deport¹⁵⁷ herself on the stage: she thrust her arms in front of her while she swayed her whole body to and fro in a manner which struck the audience as unbecoming and disagreeable. Cries of "Oh, oh!" were already rising in the pit and the cheap places. There was a sound of whistling, too, when a voice in the stalls, suggestive of a molting¹⁵⁸ cockerel, cried out with great conviction:

"That's very smart!"

All the house looked round. It was the cherub, the truant from the boardingschool, who sat with his fine eyes very wide open and his fair face glowing very hotly at sight of Nana. When he saw everybody turning toward him be grew extremely red at the thought of having thus unconsciously spoken aloud. Daguenet, his neighbor, smilingly examined him; the public laughed, as though disarmed¹⁶⁰ and no longer anxious to hiss¹⁶¹; while the young gentlemen in white gloves, fascinated in their turn by Nana's gracious contours, lolled back in their seats and applauded.

"That's it! Well done! Bravo!"

Nana, in the meantime, seeing the house laughing, began to laugh herself. The gaiety of all redoubled itself. She was an amusing creature, all the same, was that fine girl! Her laughter made a love of a little dimple appear in her chin. She stood there waiting, not bored in the least, familiar with her audience, falling into step with them at once, as though she herself were admitting with a wink¹⁶² that she had not two farthings' worth of talent but that it did not matter at all, that, in fact, she had other good points. And then after having made a sign to the conductor which plainly signified, "Go ahead, old boy!" she began her second verse:

"'Tis Venus who at midnight passes--"

Still the same acidulated voice, only that now it tickled¹⁶³ the public in the right quarter so deftly¹⁶⁴ that momentarily it caused them to give a little shiver of pleasure. Nana still smiled her smile: it lit up her little red mouth and shone in her great eyes, which were of the clearest blue. When she came to certain rather lively verses a delicate sense of enjoyment¹⁶⁵ made her tilt¹⁶⁶ her nose, the rosy nostrils¹⁶⁷ of which lifted and fell, while a bright flush suffused¹⁶⁸ her cheeks. She still swung herself up and down, for she only knew how to do that. And the trick was no longer voted ugly; on the contrary, the men raised their opera glasses. When she came to the end of a verse her voice completely failed her, and she was well aware that she never would get through with it. Thereupon, rather than fret¹⁶⁹ herself, she kicked up her leg, which forthwith was roundly outlined under her diaphanous¹⁷⁰ tunic, bent sharply backward, so that her bosom¹⁷¹ was thrown upward and forward, and stretched her arms out. Applause burst forth on all sides. In the twinkling of an eye she had turned on her heel and was going up the stage, presenting the nape of her neck to the spectators' gaze, a neck where the red-gold hair showed like some animal's fell. Then the plaudits became frantic¹⁷².

The close of the act was not so exciting. Vulcan wanted to slap Venus. The gods held a consultation¹⁷³ and decided to go and hold an inquiry¹⁷⁴ on earth before granting the deceived husband satisfaction. It was then that Diana surprised a tender conversation between Venus and Mars and vowed¹⁷⁶ that she would not take her eyes off them during the whole of the voyage. There was also a scene where Love, played by a little twelve-year-old chit, answered every question put to her with "Yes, Mamma! No, Mamma!" in a winy-piny tone, her fingers in her nose. At last Jupiter, with the severity of a master who is growing cross, shut Love up in a dark closet, bidding her conjugate¹⁷⁷ the verb "I love" twenty times. The finale was more appreciated: it was a chorus which both troupe and orchestra performed with great brilliancy. But the curtain once down, the clappers tried in vain to obtain a call, while the whole house was already up and making for the doors.

The crowd trampled¹⁷⁸ and jostled, jammed, as it were, between the rows of seats, and in so doing exchanged expressions. One phrase only went round:

"It's idiotic¹⁷⁹." A critic was saying that it would be one's duty to do a pretty bit of slashing¹⁸⁰. The piece, however, mattered very little, for people were talking about Nana before everything else. Fauchery and La Faloise, being among the earliest to emerge, met Steiner and Mignon in the passage outside the stalls. In this gaslit gut¹⁸¹ of a place, which was as narrow and circumscribed¹⁸² as a gallery in a mine, one was well-nigh suffocated¹⁸³. They stopped a moment at the foot of the stairs on the right of the house, protected by the final curve of the balusters. The audience from the cheap places were coming down the steps with a continuous tramp of heavy boots; a stream of black dress coats was passing, while an attendant was making every possible effort to protect a chair, on which she had piled up coats and cloaks, from the onward pushing of the crowd.

"Surely I know her," cried Steiner, the moment he perceived Fauchery. "I'm certain I've seen her somewhere--at the casino, I imagine, and she got herself taken up there--she was so drunk."

"As for me," said the journalist, "I don't quite know where it was. I am like you; I certainly have come across her."

He lowered his voice and asked, laughing:

"At the Tricons', perhaps."

"Egad, it was in a dirty place," Mignon declared. He seemed exasperated¹⁸⁴."It's disgusting that the public give such a reception to the first trollop that comes by. There'll soon be no more decent women on the stage. Yes, I shall end by forbidding Rose to play."

Fauchery could not restrain a smile. Meanwhile the downward shuffle¹⁸⁵ of the heavy shoes on the steps did not cease, and a little man in a workman's cap was heard crying in a drawling voice:

"Oh my, she ain't no wopper! There's some pickings there!"

In the passage two young men, delicately curled and formally resplendent in turndown collars and the rest, were disputing together. One of them was repeating the words, "Beastly, beastly!" without stating any reasons; the other was replying with the words, "Stunning¹⁸⁶, stunning!" as though he, too, disdained¹⁸⁷ all argument.

La Faloise declared her to be quite the thing; only he ventured to opine that she would be better still if she were to cultivate her voice. Steiner, who was no longer listening, seemed to awake with a start. Whatever happens, one must wait, he thought. Perhaps everything will be spoiled in the following acts. The public had shown complaisance¹⁸⁸, but it was certainly not yet taken by storm. Mignon swore that the piece would never finish, and when Fauchery and La Faloise left them in order to go up to the foyer he took Steiner's arm and, leaning hard against his shoulder, whispered in his ear:

"You're going to see my wife's costume for the second act, old fellow. It IS just blackguardly."

Upstairs in the foyer three glass chandeliers burned with a brilliant light. The two cousins hesitated an instant before entering, for the widely opened glazed¹⁸⁹ doors afforded a view right through the gallery--a view of a surging sea of heads, which two currents, as it were, kept in a continuous eddying¹⁹⁰ movement. But they entered after all. Five or six groups of men, talking very loudly and gesticulating, were obstinately¹⁹² discussing the play amid these violent interruptions; others were filing round, their heels, as they turned, sounding sharply on the waxed floor. To right and left, between columns of variegated¹⁹³ imitation marble, women were sitting on benches covered with red velvet and viewing the passing movement of the crowd with an air of fatigue as though the heat had rendered them languid. In the lofty mirrors behind them one saw the reflection of their chignons. At the end of the room, in front of the bar, a man with a huge corporation was drinking a glass of fruit syrup¹⁹⁴.

But Fauchery, in order to breathe more freely, had gone to the balcony. La Faloise, who was studying the photographs of actresses hung in frames alternating with the mirrors between the columns, ended by following him. They had extinguished the line of gas jets on the facade¹⁹⁵ of the theater, and it was dark and very cool on the balcony, which seemed to them unoccupied. Solitary¹⁹⁶ and enveloped in shadow, a young man was standing, leaning his arms on the stone balustrade, in the recess¹⁹⁷ to the right. He was smoking a cigarette, of which the burning end shone redly. Fauchery recognized Daguenet. They shook hands warmly.

"What are you after there, my dear fellow?" asked the journalist. "You're hiding yourself in holes and crannies--you, a man who never leaves the stalls on a first night!"

"But I'm smoking, you see," replied Daguenet.

Then Fauchery, to put him out of countenance:

"Well, well! What's your opinion of the new actress? She's being roughly handled enough in the passages."

"Bah!" muttered Daguenet. "They're people whom she'll have had nothing to do with!"

That was the sum of his criticism of Nana's talent. La Faloise leaned forward and looked down at the boulevard. Over against them the windows of a hotel and of a club were brightly lit up, while on the pavement below a dark mass of customers occupied the tables of the Cafe de Madrid. Despite the lateness of the hour the crowd were still crushing and being crushed; people were advancing with shortened step; a throng was constantly emerging from the Passage Jouffroy; individuals stood waiting five or six minutes before they could cross the roadway, to such a distance did the string of carriages extend.

"What a moving mass! And what a noise!" La Faloise kept reiterating¹⁹⁸, for Paris still astonished him.

The bell rang for some time; the foyer emptied. There was a hurrying of people in the passages. The curtain was already up when whole bands of spectators re-entered the house amid the irritated expressions of those who were once more in their places. Everyone took his seat again with an animated¹⁹⁹ look and renewed attention. La Faloise directed his first glance in Gaga's direction, but he was dumfounded at seeing by her side the tall fair man who but recently had been in Lucy's stage box.

"What IS that man's name?" he asked.

Fauchery failed to observe him.

"Ah yes, it's Labordette," he said at last with the same careless movement. The scenery of the second act came as a surprise. It represented a suburban²⁰⁰ Shrove Tuesday dance at the Boule Noire. Masqueraders were trolling a catch, the chorus of which was accompanied with a tapping of their heels. This 'Arryish departure, which nobody had in the least expected, caused so much amusement that the house encored the catch. And it was to this entertainment that the divine band, let astray by Iris, who falsely bragged²⁰¹ that he knew the Earth well, were now come in order to proceed with their inquiry. They had put on disguises so as to preserve their incognito²⁰². Jupiter came on the stage as King Dagobert, with his breeches inside out and a huge tin crown on his head. Phoebus appeared as the Postillion of Lonjumeau and Minerva as a Norman nursemaid. Loud bursts of merriment greeted Mars, who wore an outrageous²⁰³ uniform, suggestive of an Alpine²⁰⁴ admiral. But the shouts of laughter became uproarious when Neptune came in view, clad in a blouse, a high, bulging²⁰⁵ workman's cap on his head, lovelocks glued to his temples. Shuffling along in slippers²⁰⁶, he cried in a thick brogue.

"Well, I'm blessed! When ye're a masher it'll never do not to let 'em love yer!"

There were some shouts of "Oh! Oh!" while the ladies held their fans one degree higher. Lucy in her stage box laughed so obstreperously²⁰⁷ that Caroline Hequet silenced her with a tap of her fan.

From that moment forth the piece was saved--nay, more, promised a great success. This carnival²⁰⁸ of the gods, this dragging in the mud of their Olympus, this mock at a whole religion, a whole world of poetry, appeared in the light of a royal entertainment. The fever of irreverence²⁰⁹ gained the literary first-night world: legend was trampled underfoot; ancient images were shattered. Jupiter's make-up was capital. Mars was a success. Royalty²¹⁰ became a farce²¹¹ and the army a thing of folly²¹². When Jupiter, grown suddenly amorous²¹³ of a little laundress, began to knock off a mad cancan, Simonne, who was playing the part of the laundress, launched a kick at the master of the immortals²¹⁴' nose and addressed him so drolly²¹⁵ as "My big daddy!" that an immoderate fit of laughter shook the whole house. While they were dancing Phoebus treated Minerva to salad bowls of negus, and Neptune sat in state among seven or eight women who regaled him with cakes. Allusions were eagerly caught; indecent meanings were attached to them; harmless phrases were diverted from their proper significations in the light of exclamations²¹⁶ issuing from the stalls. For a long time past the theatrical²¹⁷ public had not wallowed in folly more irreverent. It rested them.

Nevertheless, the action of the piece advanced amid these fooleries. Vulcan, as an elegant young man clad, down to his gloves, entirely²¹⁸ in yellow and with an eyeglass stuck in his eye, was forever running after Venus, who at last made her appearance as a fishwife, a kerchief on her head and her bosom, covered with big gold trinkets,

in great evidence. Nana was so white and plump and looked so natural in a part demanding wide hips and a voluptuous²¹⁹ mouth that she straightway won the whole house. On her account Rose Mignon was forgotten, though she was made up as a delicious baby, with a wicker-work burlet on her head and a short muslin frock and had just sighed forth Diana's plaints in a sweetly pretty voice. The other one, the big wench who slapped her thighs²²⁰ and clucked like a hen, shed round her an odor of life, a sovereign feminine charm, with which the public grew intoxicated²²¹. From the second act onward

everything was permitted her. She might hold herself awkwardly; she might fail to sing some note in tune¹³⁶; she might forget her words--it mattered not: she had only to turn and laugh to raise shouts of applause. When she gave her famous kick from the hip²⁴ the stalls were fired, and a glow of passion rose upward, upward, from gallery

to gallery, till it reached the gods. It was a triumph, too, when she led the dance. She was at home in that: hand on hip, she enthroned Venus in the gutter²²² by the pavement side. And the music seemed made for her plebeian²²³ voice--shrill, piping music, with reminiscences of Saint-Cloud Fair, wheezings of clarinets and playful trills on the part of the little flutes.

Two numbers were again encored. The opening waltz, that waltz with the naughty rhythmic²²⁴ beat, had returned and swept the gods with it. Juno, as a peasant woman, caught Jupiter and his little laundress cleverly and boxed his ears. Diana, surprising Venus in the act of making an assignation with Mars, made haste to indicate hour and place to Vulcan, who cried, "I've hit on a plan!" The rest of the act did not seem very clear. The inquiry ended in a final galop after which Jupiter, breathless, streaming with perspiration²²⁵ and minus his crown, declared that the little women of Earth were delicious and that the men were all to blame.

The curtain was falling, when certain voices, rising above the storm of bravos, cried uproariously:

"All! All!"

Thereupon the curtain rose again; the artistes reappeared hand in hand. In the middle of the line Nana and Rose Mignon stood side by side, bowing and curtsying. The audience applauded; the clappers shouted acclamations.Then little by little the house emptied.

"I must go and pay my respects to the Countess Muffat," said La Faloise. "Exactly so; you'll present me," replied Fauchery; "we'll go down afterward²²⁶."

But it was not easy to get to the first-tier boxes. In the passage at the top of the stairs there was a crush. In order to get forward at all among the various groups you had to make yourself small and to slide along, using your elbows in so doing. Leaning under a copper²²⁷ lamp, where a jet of gas was burning, the bulky critic was sitting in judgment²²⁸ on the piece in presence of an attentive circle. People in passing mentioned his name to each other in muttered tones. He had laughed the whole act through--that was the rumor going the round of the passages--nevertheless, he was now very severe and spoke¹⁵⁹ of taste and morals. Farther off the thin-lipped critic was brimming over with a benevolence²²⁹ which had an unpleasant aftertaste, as of milk turned sour.

Fauchery glanced along, scrutinizing²³⁰ the boxes through the round openings in each door. But the Count de Vandeuvres stopped him with a question, and when he was informed that the two cousins were going to pay their respects to the Muffats, he pointed out to them box seven, from which he had just emerged. Then bending down and whispering in the journalist's ear:

"Tell me, my dear fellow," he said, "this Nana--surely she's the girl we saw one evening at the corner of the Rue¹ de Provence?"

"By Jove, you're right!" cried Fauchery. "I was saying that I had come across her!"

La Faloise presented his cousin to Count Muffat de Beuville, who appeared very frigid. But on hearing the name Fauchery the countess raised her head and with a certain reserve complimented the paragraphist on his articles in the Figaro. Leaning on the velvet-covered support in front of her, she turned half round with a pretty movement of the shoulders. They talked for a short time, and the Universal Exhibition was mentioned.

"It will be very fine," said the count, whose square-cut, regular-featured face retained a certain gravity.

"I visited the Champ de Mars today and returned thence truly astonished."

"They say that things won't be ready in time," La Faloise ventured to remark. "There's infinite confusion there--"

But the count interrupted him in his severe voice:

"Things will be ready. The emperor desires it."

Fauchery gaily²³¹ recounted how one day, when he had gone down thither²³² in search of a subject for an article, he had come near spending all his time in the aquarium²³³, which was then in course of construction. The countess smiled. Now and again she glanced down at the body of the house, raising an arm which a white glove covered to the elbow and fanning herself with languid hand.The house dozed²³⁴, almost deserted²³⁵. Some gentlemen in the stalls had opened out newspapers, and ladies received visits quite comfortably, as though they were at their own homes. Only a well-bred whispering was audible under the great chandelier, the light of which was softened²³⁶ in the fine cloud of dust raised by the confused movements of the interval²³⁷. At the different entrances men were crowding in order to talk to ladies who remained seated. They stood there motionless for a few seconds, craning forward somewhat and displaying the great white bosoms²³⁸ of their shirt fronts.

"We count on you next Tuesday," said the countess to La Faloise, and she invited Fauchery, who bowed.

Not a word was said of the play; Nana's name was not once mentioned. The count was so glacially dignified²³⁹ that he might have been supposed to be taking part at a sitting of the legislature. In order to explain their presence that evening he remarked simply that his father-in-law was fond of the theater. The door of the box must have remained open, for the Marquis de Chouard, who had gone out in order to leave his seat to the visitors, was back again. He was straightening up his tall, old figure. His face looked soft and white under a broad-brimmed hat, and with his restless eyes he followed the movements of the women who passed.

The moment the countess had given her invitation Fauchery took his leave, feeling that to talk about the play would not be quite the thing. La Faloise was the last to quit the box. He had just noticed the fair-haired Labordette, comfortably installed in the Count de Vandeuvres's stage box and chatting at very close quarters with Blanche de Sivry.

"Gad," he said after rejoining his cousin, "that Labordette knows all the girls then! He's with Blanche now."

"Doubtless he knows them all," replied Fauchery quietly. "What d'you want to be taken for, my friend?"

The passage was somewhat cleared of people, and Fauchery was just about to go downstairs when Lucy Stewart called him. She was quite at the other end of the corridor, at the door of her stage box. They were getting cooked in there, she said, and she took up the whole corridor in company with Caroline Hequet and her mother, all three nibbling²⁴⁰ burnt almonds. A box opener was chatting maternally²⁴¹ with them. Lucy fell out with the journalist. He was a pretty fellow; to be sure! He went up to see other women and didn't even come and ask if they were thirsty! Then, changing the subject:

"You know, dear boy, I think Nana very nice."

She wanted him to stay in the stage box for the last act, but he made his escape, promising²⁴² to catch them at the door afterward. Downstairs in front of the theater Fauchery and La Faloise lit cigarettes. A great gathering²⁴³ blocked the sidewalk, a stream of men who had come down from the theater steps and were inhaling²⁴⁴ the fresh night air in the boulevards, where the roar and battle had diminished.

Meanwhile Mignon had drawn Steiner away to the Cafe des Varietes. Seeing Nana's success, he had set to work to talk enthusiastically about her, all the while observing the banker out of the corners of his eyes. He knew him well; twice he had helped him to deceive Rose and then, the caprice being over, had brought him back to her, faithful and repentant²⁴⁵. In the cafe the too numerous crowd of customers were squeezing themselves round the marble-topped tables. Several were standing up, drinking in a great hurry. The tall mirrors reflected this thronging²⁴⁶ world of heads to infinity²⁴⁷ and magnified the narrow room beyond measure with its three chandeliers, its moleskin-covered seats and its winding²⁴⁸ staircase draped with red. Steiner went and seated himself at a table in the first saloon, which opened full on the boulevard, its doors having been removed rather early for the time of year. As Fauchery and La Faloise were passing the banker stopped them.

"Come and take a bock with us, eh?" they said.

But he was too preoccupied²⁴⁹ by an idea; he wanted to have a bouquet⁷² thrown to Nana. At last he called a waiter belonging to the cafe, whom he familiarly addressed as Auguste. Mignon, who was listening, looked at him so sharply that he lost countenance and stammered out:

"Two bouquets, Auguste, and deliver them to the attendant. A bouquet for each of these ladies! Happy thought, eh?"

At the other end of the saloon, her shoulders resting against the frame of a mirror, a girl, some eighteen years of age at the outside, was leaning motionless in front of her empty glass as though she had been benumbed by long and fruitless waiting. Under the natural curls of her beautiful gray-gold hair a virginal face looked out at you with velvety²⁵⁰ eyes, which were at once soft and candid²⁵¹.

She wore a dress of faded green silk and a round hat which blows had dinted. The cool air of the night made her look very pale.

"Egad, there's Satin," murmured Fauchery when his eye lit upon her.

La Faloise questioned him. Oh dear, yes, she was a streetwalker--she didn't count. But she was such a scandalous sort that people amused themselves by making her talk. And the journalist, raising his voice:

"What are you doing there, Satin?"

"I'm bogging," replied Satin quietly without changing position.

The four men were charmed and fell a-laughing. Mignon assured them that there was no need to hurry; it would take twenty minutes to set up the scenery for the third act. But the two cousins, having drunk their beer, wanted to go up into the theater again; the cold was making itself felt. Then Mignon remained alone with Steiner, put his elbows on the table and spoke to him at close quarters.

"It's an understood thing, eh? We are to go to her house, and I'm to introduce you. You know the thing's quite between ourselves--my wife needn't know."

Once more in their places, Fauchery and La Faloise noticed a pretty, quietly dressed woman in the second tier of boxes. She was with a serious-looking gentleman, a chief clerk at the office of the Ministry²⁵² of the Interior, whom La Faloise knew, having met him at the Muffats'. As to Fauchery, he was under the impression that her name was Madame Robert, a lady of honorable repute who had a lover, only one, and that always a person of respectability.

But they had to turn round, for Daguenet was smiling at them. Now that Nana had had a success he no longer hid himself: indeed, he had just been scoring triumphs in the passages. By his side was the young truant schoolboy, who had not quitted his seat, so stupefying was the state of admiration²⁵³ into which Nana had plunged²⁵⁴ him. That was it, he thought; that was the woman! And he blushed as he thought so and dragged his gloves on and off mechanically. Then since his neighbor had spoken of Nana, he ventured to question him.

"Will you pardon me for asking you, sir, but that lady who is acting--do you know her?"

"Yes, I do a little," murmured Daguenet with some surprise and hesitation²⁵⁵.

"Then you know her address?"

The question, addressed as it was to him, came so abruptly²⁵⁶ that he felt inclined to respond with a box on the ear.

"No," he said in a dry tone of voice.

And with that he turned his back. The fair lad knew that he had just been guilty of some breach²⁵⁷ of good manners. He blushed more hotly than ever and looked scared.

The traditional three knocks were given, and among the returning throng, attendants, laden²⁵⁸ with pelisses and overcoats, bustled²⁵⁹ about at a great rate in order to put away people's things. The clappers applauded the scenery, which represented a grotto²⁶⁰ on Mount Etna, hollowed out in a silver mine and with sides glittering like new money. In the background Vulcan's forge glowed like a setting star. Diana, since the second act, had come to a good understanding with the god, who was to pretend that he was on a journey, so as to leave the way clear for Venus and Mars. Then scarcely was Diana alone than Venus made her appearance. A shiver of delight ran round the house. Nana was nude. With quiet audacity²⁶¹ she appeared in her nakedness, certain of the sovereign power of her flesh. Some gauze enveloped her, but her rounded shoulders, her Amazonian bosom, her wide hips, which swayed to and fro voluptuously²⁶², her whole body, in fact, could be divined, nay discerned, in all its foamlike whiteness of tint beneath the slight fabric⁹⁹ she wore. It was Venus rising from the waves with no veil save her tresses. And when Nana lifted her arms the golden hairs in her armpits were observable in the glare of the footlights. There was no applause. Nobody laughed any more. The men strained forward with serious faces, sharp features, mouths irritated and parched²⁶³. A wind seemed to have passed, a soft, soft wind, laden with a secret menace. Suddenly in the bouncing child the woman stood discovered, a woman full of restless suggestion, who brought with her the delirium²⁶⁴ of sex and opened the gates of the unknown world of desire. Nana was smiling still, but her smile was now bitter, as of a devourer²⁶⁵ of men.

"By God," said Fauchery quite simply to La Faloise.

Mars in the meantime, with his plume of feathers, came hurrying to the trysting place and found himself between the two goddesses. Then ensued a passage which Prulliere played with great delicacy²⁶⁶. Petted by Diana, who wanted to make a final attack upon his feelings before delivering him up to Vulcan, wheedled²⁶⁷ by Venus, whom the presence of her rival excited, he gave himself up to these tender delights with the beatified expression of a man in clover. Finally a grand trio brought the scene to a close, and it was then that an attendant appeared in Lucy Stewart's box and threw on the stage two immense bouquets of white lilacs. There was applause; Nana and Rose Mignon bowed, while Prulliere picked up the bouquets. Many of the occupants of the stalls turned smilingly toward the ground-floor occupied by Steiner and Mignon. The banker, his face blood-red, was suffering from little convulsive twitchings of the chin, as though he had a stoppage in his throat.

What followed took the house by storm completely. Diana had gone off in a rage, and directly afterward, Venus, sitting on a moss-clad seat, called Mars to her. Never yet had a more glowing scene of seduction been ventured on. Nana, her arms round Prulliere's neck, was drawing him toward her when Fontan, with comically furious mimicry²⁶⁹ and an exaggerated imitation of the face of an outraged²⁷⁰ husband who surprises his wife in FLAGRANTE DELICTO, appeared at the back of the grotto. He was holding the famous net with iron meshes²⁷¹. For an instant he poised²⁷² and swung it, as a fisherman does when he is going to make a cast, and by an ingenious twist Venus and Mars were caught in the snare²⁷³; the net wrapped itself round them and held them motionless in the attitude of happy lovers.

A murmur of applause swelled²⁷⁴ and swelled like a growing sigh. There was some hand clapping, and every opera glass was fixed²⁷⁵ on Venus. Little by little Nana had taken possession of the public, and now every man was her slave.

A wave of lust⁷ had flowed from her as from an excited animal, and its influence had spread and spread and spread till the whole house was possessed²⁷⁶ by it. At that moment her slightest movement blew the flame of desire: with her little finger she ruled men's flesh. Backs were arched and quivered as though unseen violin bows had been drawn across their muscles; upon men's shoulders appeared fugitive²⁷⁷ hairs, which flew in air, blown by warm and wandering breaths, breathed one knew not from what feminine mouth. In front of him Fauchery saw the truant schoolboy half lifted from his seat by passion. Curiosity led him to look at the Count de Vandeuvres--he was extremely pale, and his lips looked pinched--at fat Steiner, whose face was purple to the verge²⁷⁸ of apoplexy; at Labordette, ogling²⁷⁹ away with the highly astonished air of a horse dealer²⁸⁰ admiring a perfectly²⁸¹ shaped mare²⁸²; at Daguenet, whose ears were blood-red and twitching²⁶⁸ with enjoyment. Then a sudden idea made him glance behind, and he marveled at what he saw in the Muffats' box. Behind the countess, who was white and serious as usual, the count was sitting straight upright, with mouth agape and face mottled with red, while close by him, in the shadow, the restless eyes of the Marquis de Chouard had become catlike phosphorescent, full of golden sparkles. The house was suffocating²⁸³; people's very hair grew heavy on their perspiring²⁸⁴ heads. For three hours back the breath of the multitude had filled and heated the atmosphere with a scent of crowded humanity. Under the swaying glare of the gas the dust clouds in mid-air had grown constantly denser²⁸⁵ as they hung motionless beneath the chandelier. The whole house seemed to be oscillating, to be lapsing²⁸⁶ toward dizziness in its fatigue and excitement, full, as it was, of those drowsy²⁸⁷ midnight desires which flutter in the recesses²⁸⁸ of the bed of passion. And Nana, in front of this languorous²⁸⁹ public, these fifteen hundred human beings thronged²⁹⁰ and smothered²⁹¹ in the exhaustion²⁹² and nervous exasperation²⁹³ which belong to the close of a spectacle, Nana still triumphed by right of her marble flesh and that sexual nature of hers, which was strong enough to destroy the whole crowd of her adorers and yet sustain no injury.

The piece drew to a close. In answer to Vulcan's triumphant²⁹⁴ summons all the Olympians defiled²⁹⁵ before the lovers with ohs and ahs of stupefaction and gaiety. Jupiter said, "I think it is light conduct on your part, my son, to summon us to see such a sight as this." Then a reaction took place in favor of Venus. The chorus of cuckolds was again ushered²⁹⁶ in by Iris and besought²⁹⁷ the master of the gods not to give effect to its petition, for since women had lived at home, domestic life was becoming impossible for the men: the latter preferred being deceived and happy. That was the moral of the play. Then Venus was set at liberty, and Vulcan obtained a partial divorce from her. Mars was reconciled with Diana, and Jove, for the sake of domestic peace, packed his little laundress off into a constellation²⁹⁸. And finally they extricated²⁹⁹ Love from his black hole, where instead of conjugating³⁰⁰ the verb AMO he had been busy in the manufacture of "dollies." The curtain fell on an apotheosis³⁰¹, wherein the cuckolds' chorus knelt and sang a hymn³⁰² of gratitude³⁰³ to Venus, who stood there with smiling lips, her stature³⁰⁴ enhanced by her sovereign nudity.

The audience, already on their feet, were making for the exits. The authors were mentioned, and amid a thunder of applause there were two calls before the curtain. The shout of "Nana! Nana!" rang wildly forth. Then no sooner was the house empty than it grew dark: the footlights went out; the chandelier was turned down; long strips of gray canvas slipped from the stage boxes and swathed the gilt ornamentation of the galleries, and the house, lately so full of heat and noise, lapsed³⁰⁵ suddenly into a heavy sleep, while a musty, dusty odor began to pervade³⁰⁶ it. In the front of her box stood the Countess Muffat. Very erect and closely wrapped up in her furs, she stared at the gathering shadows and waited for the crowd to pass away.

In the passages the people were jostling the attendants, who hardly knew what to do among the tumbled heaps of outdoor raiment. Fauchery and La Faloise had hurried in order to see the crowd pass out. All along the entrance hall men formed a living hedge, while down the double staircase came slowly and in regular, complete formation two interminable throngs³⁰⁷ of human beings. Steiner, in tow of Mignon, had left the house among the foremost. The Count de Vandeuvres took his departure with Blanche de Sivry on his arm. For a moment or two Gaga and her daughter seemed doubtful how to proceed, but Labordette made haste to go and fetch them a conveyance⁷⁹, the door whereof he gallantly³⁰⁸ shut after them. Nobody saw Daguenet go by. As the truant schoolboy, registering a mental vow¹⁷⁵ to wait at the stage door, was running with burning cheeks toward the Passage des Panoramas³⁰⁹, of which he found the gate closed, Satin, standing on the edge of the pavement, moved forward and brushed him with her skirts, but he in his despair gave her a savage refusal and vanished amid the crowd, tears of impotent desire in his eyes. Members of the audience were lighting³¹⁰ their cigars and walking off, humming:

When Venus roams at eventide.

Satin had gone back in front of the Cafe des Varietes, where Auguste let her eat the sugar that remained over from the customers' orders. A stout man, who came out in a very heated condition, finally carried her off in the shadow of the boulevard, which was now gradually going to sleep.

Still people kept coming downstairs. La Faloise was waiting for Clarisse; Fauchery had promised to catch up Lucy Stewart with Caroline Hequet and her mother. They came; they took up a whole corner of the entrance hall and were laughing very loudly when the Muffats passed by them with an icy expression. Bordenave had just then opened a little door and, peeping out, had obtained from Fauchery the formal promise of an article. He was dripping with perspiration, his face blazed, as though he were drunk with success.

"You're good for two hundred nights," La Faloise said to him with civility. "The whole of Paris will visit your theater."

But Bordenave grew annoyed and, indicating with a jerk of his chin the public who filled the entrance hall--a herd³¹¹ of men with parched lips and ardent eyes, still burning with the enjoyment of Nana--he cried out violently:

"Say 'my brothel,' you obstinate¹⁹¹ devil!"

晚上九点钟了，游艺剧院的演出厅里还是空荡荡的，只有楼厅和正厅前座里，有几个早到的观众在等候开演，在枝形吊灯的昏黄光线下，隐约看见他们坐在紫红丝绒套的座椅里，幕布被笼罩在一片昏暗之中，犹如一大块红色的斑点。舞台上阒然无声，成排的脚灯熄灭了，乐师们的乐谱架摆得七零八落。只有四楼楼座里，发出阵阵喧嚣声，还夹杂着呼唤声和笑声，在金色框架的大圆窗下，坐着一些观众，他们头戴无沿帽或鸭舌帽，在天花板上的圆形拱顶四周，画着一些女人和裸体儿童，在天空中飞翔，天空在煤气灯光照耀下，呈现出一派绿色。不时出现一位女引座员，手里拿着票根，忙着把走在她前边的一位先生和一位太太领到座位上。男的穿着礼服，女的身材颀长，挺着胸脯，他们把目光缓缓向四下扫视。

正厅里来了两个年轻人。他们站着，目光环顾四周。

“我对你是怎么说的，埃克托尔？”年龄大的青年说道，这个青年高个子，嘴上蓄着小黑胡子，“我们来得太早了，你应该让我把雪茄抽完再来。”

一个女引座员从他们旁边经过。

“哟！原来是福什利先生，”她亲切地说道，“不过半个钟头，戏是不会开演的。”

“那么，他们贴出的广告上为什么说是九点钟呢？”埃克托尔低声埋怨道，瘦削的脸上露出怒气冲冲的样子，“今天早上，在剧中担任角色的克拉利瑟还向我保证说，八点整就开演呢。”

他们沉默了片刻，抬头察看昏暗中的包厢。不过，因为包厢壁上贴的是绿纸，里面显得更加黯淡。往下看，楼下包厢隐没在一片漆黑之中。楼厅包厢里，只有一位胖乎乎的妇女，疲乏地趴在罩丝绒的栏杆上。舞台的左右两侧，高高的柱子之间的包厢里空无一人。包厢外壁上挂着带有长长流苏的垂饰。金色和白色的大厅，衬托着嫩绿色，在水晶大吊灯的微弱灯光照耀下，空中好像弥漫着微尘。

“你给吕西买了边包厢票没有？”埃克托尔问道。

“买了，”另一个青年回答道，“不过，买票可不容易啊！哦！别担心，吕西不会来得太早的。”

他轻轻打了一个呵欠，沉默了一会，说道：

“你真走运，你还没有看过首场演出……《金发爱神》的上演将是今年的一件大事，这出戏人们已经谈论半年了。啊！亲爱的，多么动听的音乐！这出戏真吸引人！博尔德纳夫真精明，他把这出戏留到博览会期间才上演。”

埃克托尔认真地听着，他提了一个问题：

“娜娜这个新明星，她应该演爱神喽，你认识她吗？”

“问吧！问得好！还会有人问我！”福什利嚷道，一边把两只胳膊向上一举，“从今天早上起，人们就缠住我，问娜娜的情况。我遇到不下二十个这样的人，问娜娜这样，问娜娜那样！难道我知道吗？难道我认识巴黎的所有风骚娘儿们吗？……娜娜是博尔德纳夫的新发现。她肯定不是什么好东西。”说完，他平静下来。不过，大厅里空荡荡的，分枝吊灯发出的光线昏昏暗暗，一片教堂般的肃穆气氛，窃窃私语声，门开关的声音，这一切都令他烦躁不安。

“啊！不对，”他突然说道，“在这里呆下去，人会变老的。我就出去……我们到楼下去，也许遇到博尔德纳夫，他会细细跟我们讲的。”

检票处设在楼下铺着大理石的前厅内，观众已经开始入场了。从敞开的三道栅栏门望出去，只见马路上热闹非凡，在这晴朗的四月的夜晚，灯火通明。一辆辆马车在剧院前嘎的一声停下来，打开的车门又砰的一声关上，人们三五成群地进场，在检票处滞留一会儿，然后走到前厅尽头，从左右两边的楼梯上楼，妇女们扭动着腰肢慢腾腾地上楼。前厅里有少许拿破仑时代的装饰，看上去颇像圣殿里纸板做成的列柱廊。光秃秃的灰白墙壁上，贴着黄色巨幅海报，在煤气灯照耀下，显得格外醒目，上面用大黑体字写着娜娜的名字。一些男人经过那里，停下脚步，在那里看海报，另一些男人则站在那里聊天，堵在门口。而在靠近订票处的地方，有一个粗壮男子，宽面颊，胡子刮得光光的，正在粗声粗气地回答一些人的问题，他们恳求他卖票给他们。

“这就是博尔德纳夫。”福什利一边说，一边下楼梯。

经理已经瞥见了他。

“喂！你真够讲交情啊！”经理老远对他大声嚷道，“原来你是这样给我写文章的……今天早上我翻开《费加罗报》一看，连一个字也没有。”

“再等等吧！”福什利回答，“在写文章介绍她之前，我得先认识一下你的那位娜娜才行……何况，我什么也没有答应过你。”

接着，为了不让经理再缠住他，他就把他的表弟埃克托尔·德·拉法卢瓦兹介绍给博尔德纳夫。这个青年人是到巴黎来求学的。经理看了青年一眼。埃克托尔却心情激动地打量着经理。原来他就是博尔德纳夫，这个耍女人的人，对待女人像对待狱卒一样。这个人的头脑里总是想着做广告，说起话来嗓门很高，又吐唾沫，又拍大腿，是一个厚颜无耻、专横跋扈的人。埃克托尔觉得对这样的人要说句客套话，恭维恭维他。

“您的剧院……”他用轻柔的声音说道。

博尔德纳夫是一个喜欢说话开门见山的人，他毫不掩饰地用一句粗俗的话打断了他的话：

“你尽管叫我的妓院好了。”

这时，福什利赞同地笑了，而拉法卢瓦兹的恭维话还未说完，堵在喉咙里，他觉得经理的话很刺耳，却竭力装出一副欣赏这句话的样子。这时，经理匆忙走过去与一个戏剧评论家握手，这位评论家的专栏文章在社会上颇有影响。当经理回来时，年轻人心里已经恢复了平静。他怕自己显得过分拘谨，别人会把他看成乡巴佬。

“人家告诉我，”他很想找些话来说说，又说道，“娜娜有个好嗓子。”

“她呀！”经理耸耸肩膀，大声说道，“她有一副破锣嗓子。”

年轻人赶快补充道：

“而且听说她是个出色的演员呢。”

“她呀！……简直是一堆肥肉，演戏时连手脚都不知道该怎么放。”

拉法卢瓦兹脸上微微红了一下，弄得摸不着头脑，结巴道：

“无论如何我也不要错过今晚的首场演出。我早就知道您的剧院了……”

“就叫我的妓院好了。”博尔德纳夫又一次打断他的话，态度冷漠而又固执，像一个非常自信的人。

这时候，福什利一声不吭，他在注视着那些正在入场的妇女。当他发觉他的表弟愣在那儿，被弄得啼笑皆非，就过来给他解围。

“你就按照博尔德纳夫的意思叫好了，他叫你怎么叫，你就怎么叫，这样他就高兴了……而你呢，老兄，别让我们在这儿久待了。如果你的娜娜既不会唱又不会演，那么你的戏就一定失败，只会失败。而且，这正是我所担心的事。”

“失败！失败！”经理的脸涨得通红，大声嚷道，“难道一个女人要会演会唱才行？啊！我的小老弟，你也太迂拙了……娜娜有别的长处，这是真的！这个长处抵得上任何长处。我已经觉察出来了，这个长处在她身上很突出，如果我觉察不出来，我就是白痴……你等着瞧吧，你等着瞧吧，只要她一出场，全场观众就会看得垂涎三尺。”

他兴奋极了，举起两只粗大的手，手都发抖了。接着，他感到很欣慰，低声自语道：

“是的，她前途无量。啊！真见鬼！是的，她前途无量……她是个婊子。啊！她是个婊子！”

随后，在福什利的诘问下，他便答应把详细情况告诉他。他的言辞粗俗不堪，埃克托尔·德·拉法卢瓦兹听后，感到很不舒服。他认识娜娜后，就想把她推上舞台。就在这时候，他正好缺少一个人演爱神。他是不会长时间把精力放在一个女人身上的，因此希望让观众很快欣赏到她。不过，这个高个子姑娘的到来，在他的戏班子里引起了一场轩然大波。他原来的明星叫罗丝·米尼翁，是一个演技精湛的演员，也是一个受人崇拜的歌星，她感到来了一个竞争对手，心里很恼火，便用甩手不干来威胁他。为了海报上排名的事，天哪！闹得不可开交，最后，他决定把两个人的名字用同样大的字体印在上面。他绝不让别人来惹他麻烦，只要他的小娘儿们棗他是这样称呼她们的棗有一个人，不管是西蒙娜还是克拉利瑟，行动稍有差错，他就朝她们屁股上狠狠踢过去。不这样，他就无法维持生计。他用她们来卖钱，这些婊子，他知道她们的身价！“瞧！”他说完换了话题，“米尼翁和斯泰内来了，他俩总是在一起。你们知道斯泰内对罗丝开始讨厌了，所以，她的丈夫总是寸步不离斯泰内，生怕他溜走。”

剧院檐口上的一排煤气灯发出夺目的光芒，把人行道照得雪亮。两棵碧绿的小树在灯光照射下显得格外清楚，一根柱子被强烈的灯光照得发亮，人们老远就能看见海报上的字，清楚得和大白天一样；远处街上的暮色越来越浓，星星灯火闪闪发光，马路上行人熙熙攘攘。许多人还没有马上进场，他们滞留在外面，一边聊天，一边抽雪茄。排灯的光线把他们的脸照得灰白，他们缩短了的身影在柏油马路上清晰可见。米尼翁是一个身材高大、宽肩的汉子，长着一个江湖艺人的方形脑袋，他从人群中挤出来，挽着银行家斯泰内的胳膊；斯泰内身材矮小，大腹便便，面孔圆圆的，下颔和两颊上长着一圈灰白络腮胡子。

“怎么？”博尔德纳夫对银行家说道，“你昨天在我的办公室里已经见到过她。”

“啊！原来就是她，”斯泰内嚷道，“我料到是她。不过，她进来的时候，我正往外走，我几乎没有看清她。”

米尼翁耷拉着眼皮听着，一边使劲转动着手指上的大钻石戒指，他明白了，他们谈的是娜娜。随后，博尔德纳夫把他的新来的明星的模样描绘了一番，银行家的眼里燃起了欲火。米尼翁终于插话道：

“别谈了，亲爱的朋友，一个娼妇！观众会把她赶走的……斯泰内，我的小老弟，你知道我的太太正在她的化妆室里等你呢。”

他想把斯泰内拖走，但是斯泰内不肯离开博尔德纳夫。在他们面前，观众排成一条长龙，挤在检票处，发出一阵阵喧闹声，喧闹声中，不时响起娜娜的名字，这两个字就像唱歌一样响亮有力。男人们伫立在海报前，高声拼读着娜娜的名字；另一些人经过那里时也用询问的口气把那名字读一遍。而妇女们呢，个个心情焦急，脸上挂着微笑，用诧异的神态一遍又一遍地低声读着娜娜的名字。可是谁也不认识娜娜。这个娜娜是从哪里冒出来的？于是，流言在人群中不胫而走，有些人还窃窃私语，开种种玩笑。这个名字，这个小名叫起来既亲切，又好听，每个人都爱叫它。只要一发出这两个音，人们就高兴，脾气也变得好起来。一种好奇的狂热驱使人们要知道娜娜，这是巴黎人的好奇心，其疯狂程度达到了无以复加的地步，简直像热病发作似的。谁都想看看娜娜。一位太太的袍子的边饰被挤掉了，一位先生被挤掉了帽子。

“啊！你们问得太多了！”博尔德纳夫大声说道，有二十来个人围住他提问题，“你们马上就会看见她的……我走啦，人家有事等我呢。”

他见观众的兴趣起来了，非常高兴，一溜烟地不见了。米尼翁耸耸肩膀，提醒斯泰内，说他的太太罗丝正在等他，叫他去看看她在第一幕里穿的服装。

“瞧！吕西，她在那儿，她正在下车。”拉法卢瓦兹对福什利说道。

那个人果然是吕西·斯图华，她个儿不高，长相丑陋，约摸四十来岁，脖子很长，面孔瘦削，两片厚嘴唇，但她性格活泼，态度和蔼可亲，倒给她增添了很大魅力。她带来了卡罗利娜·埃凯和她的母亲。卡罗利娜是个花容月貌、表情冷漠的女子；她的母亲态度庄重，行动迟缓。

“你跟我们坐在一起吧，我给你留了一个座位。”吕西对福什利说。

“啊！不！这里什么也看不清！”福什利回答道，“我有一张正厅前座票，我喜欢坐到正厅前排去。”

吕西生气了，难道他不敢在公众面前与她一起露面吗？接着，她很快平静下来，转了一个话题：

“你为什么不告诉我你认识娜娜呢？”

“娜娜，我从来没有见到过她。”

“这是真话？有人向我保证，说你同她睡过觉。”

站在他们前面的米尼翁，把一个手指头放在嘴唇中间，示意他们别吵了。吕西问他为什么，他指着一个走过去的年轻人，低声说道：“那是娜娜的情人。”

大伙都朝那个年轻人望去。他很和蔼可亲，福什利认出他来了，他叫达盖内，在女人身上挥霍掉三十万法郎，现在只能在交易所里做些小投机，赚点钱，不时给她们买些花束，或请她们吃吃晚饭。吕西发现他的眼睛很漂亮。

“啊！布朗瑟来了！”她嚷道，“就是她跟我说过，你同娜娜睡过觉。”

布朗瑟·德·西弗里是一个胖胖的金发女郎，漂亮的脸蛋儿胖乎乎的，陪她来的是个瘦弱的男子，衣着很考究，露出一副高雅的神态。

“他就是格扎维埃·德·旺德夫尔伯爵。”福什利对德·拉法卢瓦兹耳语道。

伯爵与新闻记者握了握手。这时布朗瑟和吕西两人激烈地议论起来。她们镶边饰的裙子挡住了别人的去路，一个穿着蓝裙子，另一个穿着玫瑰红裙子；娜娜的名字又回到了她们的嘴边，她们把娜娜的名字叫得那么响，以至别人都竖起耳朵倾听她们的谈话。德·旺德夫尔伯爵带着布朗瑟走了。人们等得越久，想见娜娜的心情就越急切，到了这时，娜娜的名字就像回声一样，在前厅的每个角落里回荡，而且声音越来越高。怎么还不开始？男人们掏出表来看，迟到的观众还没等车子停稳就跳下来，观众三五成群地离开人行道，过路人漫不经心地穿过煤气灯光下的一片空荡荡路面，伸长脖子朝剧院里张望。一个顽童吹着口哨走过来，在剧院门口的一张海报前面用嘶哑粗俗的声音嚷道：“喂！娜娜！”说完就扭着腰，趿拉着旧拖鞋走了。大家见他那副样子，都笑起来。一些身份高贵的先生也跟着他叫起来：“娜娜！喂！娜娜！”观众拥挤不堪，检票处有人争吵起来，嗡嗡嘈杂声一阵高过一阵，有人叫着娜娜的名字，要求见娜娜，这是人群中突然产生的愚蠢想法，也是一时性欲冲动的表现。

在这片喧嚣声中，开演的铃声响了。喧嚣声一直传到马路上：“铃响了，铃响了。”接着人群中你推我搡，每个人都想挤进去，检票处增加了维持秩序的人。米尼翁露出焦急的神态，最后拉着斯泰内走了，他没有去看罗丝的演出服装。铃刚响时，拉法卢瓦兹就拉着福什利，从人群中挤出来，生怕误了序曲。观众迫不急待的样子惹怒了吕西·斯图华。这些粗野的人，竟然对妇女们也推推撞撞！她和卡罗利娜·埃凯母女两人走在人群的最后边。前厅里的观众都进场了，大门外边马路上，仍然传来持续不断的隆隆声。

“好像他们每出戏都精彩似的！”吕西一边上楼梯，一边嘀咕道。

在演出厅里，福什利和拉法卢瓦兹站在他们的座位前面，双目又环顾四周。

这时，大厅里已经灯火通明。高高的煤气火头，发出黄色和玫瑰色的光焰，把多枝水晶大吊灯照得雪亮，灯光从拱顶上成细雨状地反射到正厅里。座椅上的石榴红丝绒像漆一样闪闪发光，那些金色装饰闪烁着光芒，天花板上的色彩过分强烈，那些嫩绿色的装饰使耀眼夺目的光芒显得柔和了。舞台前的一排脚灯升高了，顿时发出一大片光亮，把幕布映得通红，沉沉的紫红色幕布像神话中的宫殿一样富丽堂皇，与舞台上的旧陋框架形成鲜明对照，金色框架上有一道道裂缝，露出了里面的泥灰。剧场内已经热起来了。乐师们对着乐谱架调整乐器的音色，笛子的轻快颤音，法国号的低沉呼鸣，小提琴的悦耳奏音交织在一起，在越来越高的嘈杂人声上空荡漾。每个观众都在讲话，互相推推搡搡，使尽全力找自己的位置，坐下来。过道里拥挤不堪，以至每个过道口好不容易才能放进来一股源源不断的人流，观众互相打招呼，衣服互相摩擦，在女人们的裙子和帽子中间夹杂着男人们的黑色礼服或燕尾服。一排排座位上渐渐坐满了人。一个穿着浅色服装的女人让人看得特别清楚，她的面颊俏丽，低着头，头上蓄着发髻，发髻上的首饰闪闪发亮。一个包厢里，一个女人裸露着一角肩膀，白皙得像白绸缎。其余妇女静静地坐着，无精打彩地摇着扇子，瞅着拥挤的人群。一些年轻先生们站在正厅前座里，背心敞开，钮扣洞里别着栀子花，用带着手套的手拿着望远镜观看。

这时候，两个表兄弟寻找熟悉的面孔。米尼翁和斯泰内一起坐在楼下一个包厢内，手腕靠在栏杆的天鹅绒罩上，肩并肩地坐着。布朗瑟·德·西弗里好像一个人单独占了楼下的一个侧面包厢。拉法卢瓦兹特别注意达盖内，达盖内坐在他的前面，两人相隔两排座位，他坐在一个正厅前座内。达盖内的旁边，坐着一个小伙子，看上去只有十七岁，模样像是逃学的中学生，一双小天使般的眼睛睁得大大的，福什利笑眯眯地打量着他。

“坐在楼厅里的那位太太是谁？”拉法卢瓦兹突然问道，“就是坐在穿蓝衣服姑娘旁边的那位太太。”

他指着一个胖女人，她的胸衣裹得紧紧的，过去头发是金色的，后来变成了白色，现在又染成黄色。圆圆的脸上涂了胭脂，额上留着小姑娘式的刘海，脸像肿了似的。

“那是加加。”福什利简单地回答。

表弟听了这个名字似乎觉得惊讶，于是他又说道：

“你不认识加加吗？……她在路易·菲力普在位初年，还是走红人物呢。现在，她不管到哪里都带着她的女儿。”

拉法卢瓦兹对姑娘看也不看，却动情地把目光盯着加加；他觉得她虽是半老徐娘，但风韵犹存，只是不敢说出口来。

这时候，乐队指挥把指挥棒一举，乐师们便奏起序曲。观众还在不断地进场，骚乱和嘈杂声依然有增无减。特地来看首场演出的仍然是那些老观众，有的甚至关系还很密切，他们见了面，非常高兴。一些老观众由于彼此熟悉，态度很随便，有人不脱帽子就互相打招呼。这时，剧场成了巴黎的缩影，成了汇集巴黎文学界、金融界和寻欢作乐的人的场所，那里还有许多新闻记者，一些作家，交易所的投机家，也有一些轻佻的女人，她们比正经女人还要多。他们奇异地聚集到一起，其中各种人物都有，他们都染上了种种恶习，脸上都露出同样疲惫、同样兴奋的神态。福什利在他表弟的询问下，把报馆和俱乐部的包厢指给他看，并把那些戏剧批评家的名字一个个告诉他，其中一个人面孔瘦削，神情冷漠，长着两片险恶的薄嘴唇，他还特地指给他一个胖子，那人脸上显出一副和善的神情，懒洋洋地倚在身旁一个女人的肩上，用父爱的目光深情地注视着这个天真纯朴的姑娘。

他看见拉法卢瓦兹与坐在对面包厢里的人打招呼，便不再说下去了。他似乎感到很诧异。

“怎么！”他问道，“你认识缪法·德·伯维尔伯爵吗？”

“哦！我很早就认识他了，”埃克托尔回答，“缪法家有一块田地同我家的田地相距不远。我常到他们家里去……伯爵与妻子和岳父德·舒阿尔侯爵住在一起。”

见表兄感到很惊奇，他心中暗暗高兴，出于虚荣心，他说得更详细了：侯爵是国务参事，伯爵刚刚被任命为皇后的侍从长官。福什利拿起望远镜，瞅着伯爵夫人，她满头棕发，皮肤白皙，肌肉丰腴，有一双美丽动人的黑眼睛。

“幕间休息时你给我介绍一下，”福什利最后说道，“我已经见过伯爵，不过我希望每星期二到他们家里去。”

从最高几层楼座里发出几声嘘声，叫人安静下来。序曲开始了，观众还在不停地进场，迟到者使得整排的观众站起来给他们让路，包厢的门发出吱吱的响声，走廊里有人拉开粗大的嗓门在争吵。谈话声还没有停下来，犹如傍晚时分的一大群麻雀在叽叽喳喳叫着。场内一片混乱，人头在攒动，胳膊在挥舞，一些人坐下去，想舒服一会，另一些人则执意站着，想向四下再瞧上最后一眼。“坐下！坐下！”震耳欲聋的喊声从光线昏暗的正厅后排发出来。每个人都感到身上颤抖着：他们终于要见到这位著名的娜娜了，巴黎已经为她忙了整整一个星期了。

说话声渐渐停下来，但是偶尔还听到一些深沉不清的谈话声。在窃窃的低语声沉寂下来，叹息声正在消逝时，乐队以欢快的小音符倏地奏起了一段华尔兹乐曲，曲子的节奏粗俗，里面还夹杂着猥亵的笑声。大家听得心里乐滋滋的，都笑起来。坐在后座前几排的剧院雇来的捧场者，使劲地鼓起掌来。

幕布升起了。

“瞧！”一直不停说话的拉法卢瓦兹说道，“有一位先生与吕西坐在一起。”

他瞅着楼厅右侧的包厢，卡罗利娜和吕西坐在包厢的前边。后面人们瞥见卡罗利娜母亲的端庄面孔和一个高个子年轻人的侧影，他长着一头美丽的金色头发，衣冠整齐，无可挑剔。

“瞧呀！”拉法卢瓦兹又说道，“有一位先生跟吕西坐在一起。”

福什利决定把望远镜转向侧边包厢。可是，立即又掉过头来。

“哦！那是拉博德特。”福什利用毫不介意的语调嘟哝道，好像这位先生在场对观众来说是很自然的事，并且是无关紧要的。

在他们后面，有人嚷道：“别说话喽！”他们不得不静下来。这时候，观众都一动不动地坐着。从正厅前座到楼座，一层层脑袋伸得笔直，聚精会神地看着台上。《金发爱神》的第一幕是发生在奥林匹斯山①，山是用硬纸板做的，山后乌云密布，右边是朱庇特②的宝座，首先出场是彩虹女神和司酒童③，他们在一群天上侍者的帮助下，一边唱着大合唱，一边为天上众神布置会场座位。发出阵阵喝彩声的只有剧院雇来的捧场者。观众感到迷惑不解，一直在等待着金发爱神的出场。然而，拉法卢瓦兹为克拉利瑟·贝尼鼓了一阵掌，她是博尔德纳夫的一个情妇，在剧中扮演彩虹女神，她身着浅蓝色衣服，腰上系着一条宽大的七色彩虹带子。

①古希腊神话中提及的一高峰，海拔二九八○米，位于帖萨利和马其顿之间；相传，希腊诸神即居于其云雾弥漫之巅。

②罗马神话中的天神，位列众神之首。

③希腊神话中达耳达尼亚国王特洛斯的儿子，因美貌非凡而被诸神掠至天上作为天神宙斯的司酒童子。

“你知道，她为了系那条彩虹带，把衬衫都脱了，”拉法卢瓦兹向福什利大声说道，好让别人都听到，“今天早上我们已经试过……如果衬衫不脱掉，在胳膊下面和背上就露出来。”

场内微微骚动起来。扮演月神的罗丝·米尼翁出场了。月神既黑又瘦，丑得像巴黎的可爱顽童，虽然她的身材和面孔都不适合扮演这个角色，但却显得很迷人，似乎是对剧中这个角色的嘲讽。她上场时唱的调子和歌词糟糕得简直要让人哭起来，唱词中，她埋怨战神玛尔斯，因为玛尔斯正要抛弃她去追求爱神。她唱时神态拘谨而腼腆，拘谨中是那样充满轻佻的暗示，以至全场观众都活跃起来。她的丈夫和斯泰内肩并肩地坐在一起，得意地笑着。当深受观众喜爱的演员普律利埃尔扮演将军一登场，全场观众大笑起来，他演的玛尔斯是田舍花园①里的战神，头上插着一撮羽毛，腰间挂着一把军刀，军刀高得与肩齐平。他受尽了月神的气；月神对他大摆架子。月神发誓要监视他，并对他进行报复。他们的三重唱以一支滑稽逗乐的蒂罗尔山歌调结束，普律利埃尔唱得很出色，也很逗趣，他的声音像一只被激怒了的公猫的声音。他是一个走鸿运的演青年角色的演员，露出一副自鸣得意神态，转动着眼睛，像是一个好汉，逗得包厢里的妇女们发出尖锐的笑声。

①这里所说的田舍花园，与战神玛尔斯这一形象的起源有关，一说玛尔斯是司掌兽类之神，又说，他为地域性丰饶与植物之神，田舍花园象征战神玛尔斯与农业有关。

接着，观众又冷静下来；下面几场戏令人厌倦。老演员博斯克出场了，他扮演笨蛋朱庇特，头上戴着一顶硕大无朋的帽子，脑袋似乎要被帽子压碎似的，他与天后朱诺为了厨娘报帐的事发生了口角，这时观众的愁眉舒展了一会儿。天神接二连三地出现，差点把整个戏搞糟了。天神中有海神、地狱神、智慧女神，等等。人们显得不耐烦了，令人不安的低语声越来越高，观众个个扫兴，向大厅内四处张望。吕西与拉博德特微笑着。德·旺德夫尔伯爵待在布朗瑟的宽大的肩膀后面，把头伸出高高的；福什利眼睛瞟着缪法夫妇，缪法伯爵表情严肃，似乎看不懂戏里的内容。伯爵夫人似笑非笑，耷拉着眼皮，她在沉思。在一片寂静之中，倏然间，捧场者鼓起掌来，掌声很有节奏，劈劈啪啪，犹如一排士兵在放枪。人们把目光转向台上。这总算是娜娜了吧？这个娜娜让人等得好苦呀。

这时，出场的是一群凡人的代表，由司酒童和彩虹女神领着，他们是一些受人尊重的资产者，都是戴绿帽子的丈夫，来向主神控诉爱神的，他们断言是爱神煽燃了他们的妻子的欲火。他们的大合唱悲怆而逼真，中间还夹杂着充满忏悔的沉默，观众听了情趣横生。剧场里只听见一句话：“他们是乌龟大合唱，他们是乌龟大合唱。”观众对这句话很感兴趣，大声叫道：“再来一次！”每个合唱者的面孔都很古怪，观众觉得他们的脸都配得上乌龟这个称号，尤其是一个胖子，脸圆乎乎的，酷似一轮满月。这时，火神怒气冲冲地进来，他来找他的妻子，她离家出走已经三天了。合唱又开始了，这一次是他们向当乌龟的火神①恳求。火神这个角色是由丰唐扮演的，他是一个丑角，擅长演粗俗下流的角色，并富有独创性。他有极丰富的想象力，走路时使劲扭动着腰部，他装扮成乡村铁匠的模样，头上戴着火红的假发，胳膊裸露着，上面刺着纹身：若干被箭刺穿的红心。一个女人嗓门拉得高高的，嚷道：“啊！他真丑啊！”

①根据希腊神话，火神伏耳甘（赫菲斯托斯）因其跛足和丑陋，其妻阿芙罗狄忒对他嗤之以鼻，每每寻机与战神阿瑞斯幽会，并生众多子女。

女人们都笑着一起鼓掌。

接下来的一幕似乎长得没完没了。主神朱庇特不断地召集众神会议，把那些戴绿帽子的丈夫的诉状提交会议讨论。还是不见娜娜的踪影！难道要到闭幕时才让她出场吗？等了这样长时间，观众终于不耐烦了。剧院里又响起了嘁嘁喳喳的声音。

“这下可糟了，”米尼翁高兴地对斯泰内说道，“你等着瞧吧，观众会给她点颜色看看的！”

这时候，舞台后部的云散开了，爱神出现了。娜娜，对于她这个芳龄十八的女子来说，个子未免显得太高了，体格显得太壮了。她身穿女神的白内衣，长长的金发自然地披散在肩坎上，她泰然自若地走向台口，向观众嫣然一笑，然后，她开始唱起主题歌：

“黄昏时分，爱神在徜徉……”

当她唱到第二句歌词时，观众都面面相觑。难道是在开玩笑吗？难道是博尔德纳夫的标新立异吗？观众从来没有听到过唱得如此走调的歌声，而且唱得如此不得法。她的经理说得好，她一唱就走调。她甚至连在舞台上如何站立都不会，她把两只手往前摆动，整个身子都摇晃起来，观众觉得很不得体，有失雅观。后座和廉价座里发出“哟，哟”的叫声，还有人吹起口哨，这时候，前座里响起了一个少年发育期变嗓的声音，一本正经地嚷道：“太棒了！”

全场观众都把目光转向他，原来是那个天真烂漫的孩子，逃学的中学生，一双漂亮的眼睛睁得大大的，他一看见娜娜，金发下的面孔就兴奋起来。他看见大伙的目光都盯着自己，顿时变得面红耳赤，不禁为自己无意识地高声嚷叫而羞愧。达盖内坐在他的旁边，笑着打量他，观众都笑起来，仿佛心情平静下来了，再也不想吹口哨了；而那些戴白手套的年轻先生们，也被娜娜的线条迷住了，个个神魂颠倒，鼓起掌来。

“对！真棒！妙极了！”

这时候，娜娜看见全场人都在笑，自己也笑起来。愉快的气氛更浓了。这个漂亮的姑娘，仍然有吸引人之处，她一笑，下巴上就出现一个逗人的小酒窝，她等待着，毫无拘束，随随便便，很快就与观众融洽起来；她眨眨眼睛，似乎自己在说，演戏的本领连一个子儿都不值，然而，这倒没关系，她还具备别的长处。她向乐队指挥做了一个手势，仿佛在说：“奏吧，我的老先生！”她便开始唱第二段：

午夜里，爱神经过……

她的声音总是那么酸溜溜的，不过，现在她掌握了观众的胃口，她能使观众兴奋得不时发出轻轻的颤抖。娜娜一直满面笑容，这使她的樱桃小口发出光彩，浅蓝色的大眼睛炯炯有神。当她唱到某些比较欢快的歌词时，心里乐滋滋的，鼻子往上翘起，两边的玫瑰红鼻翼一起一伏，这时，两颊上泛起红晕。她继续摇晃着身体，她只会做这个动作。恰恰相反，观众不觉得这种动作难看，男人们拿起望远镜对准她看。她刚唱完这段歌词，就发不出一点声音来，她明白自己不能坚持到底。而她并不慌张，把屁股一扭，屁股在薄薄的内衣下露出圆圆的轮廓，她又把腰一挺，胸部向前挺起，随后把两臂向前伸去。这时，掌声四起。她又立刻转过身子，向舞台后部走去，把颈背朝向观众，颈背上长着棕红色的头发，犹如动物的绒毛；这时响起更热烈的掌声。

这一幕结束时，气氛变得比较冷落。火神想打爱神一记耳光。众神举行了会议，决定由众神到人间去进行一次调查，再次对当乌龟的丈夫们作出令其满意的回答。这时，月神偷听到爱神和战神在谈情说爱，便发誓要在下凡期间密切监视他们。这一幕里还有一场戏，爱神由一个十二岁小女孩扮演，她对什么问题，都用呜啦呜啦的哭丧声音回答：“是的，妈妈……不是，妈妈……”朱庇特发火了，他摆出主人的威风，把小爱神关在一间黑洞洞的房间里，让她把动词“爱”变位二十次。观众对结尾还是颇感兴趣的，那是一场大合唱，演唱者和乐团都演得非常出色。帷幕落下来了，雇来捧场的人发出一阵掌声，想让演员谢幕一次，可是观众都站起来了，向门口走去。观众挤在一排排坐椅中间，互相推推搡搡，一边交换看法。他们都异口同声地说：

“真糟糕。”

一个批评家说：“这出戏要大大删节。”但是，剧本本身并不重要，人们谈论的重点是娜娜。福什利和拉法卢瓦兹是头一批走出去的，他们在正厅前座的走廊里碰见了斯泰内和米尼翁。这条走廊既矮又窄，颇像煤矿里的坑道，只有几盏煤气灯照明，人待在里面感到窒息。他们在右边楼梯脚下停留一会儿，那儿是栏杆的拐弯处，这样，经过的人挤不着他们。楼上廉价座位的观众正在下楼，皮鞋声响个不停，穿黑礼服的人流在向前移动；一个女引座员拼命抓住一把椅子，生怕被人推倒，因为她把观众存放的衣服都堆在上面。

“我可认识她！”斯泰内瞥见福什利时大声说道，“我肯定在什么地方见到过她……我相信是在俱乐部里，她当时喝得酩酊大醉，让人搀扶着。”

“我也记不大清楚了，”新闻记者说，“我和你一样，肯定见到过她。”

他压低了声音，笑着又说道：

“也许是在拉特里贡家里吧。”

“当然罗！那是个肮脏的地方，”米尼翁似乎很生气，说道，“让一个妓女上台演戏，观众还热烈鼓掌，真叫人恶心。不要很久，演戏的就没有正经女人了……对，终有一天，我要不让罗丝上台演戏。”

福什利不禁微笑起来。这时，沉重的皮鞋下楼梯发出的声响还没有停止，一个戴鸭舌帽的矮个子男人拖着长长的声调说道：

“噢！拉，拉，她长得又矮又肥！可有吃的啦。”

在走廊里，有两个年轻人，卷曲的头发是烫过的，衣着很考究，脖子上套着两角往下翻的假领，在那儿争论。一个人连声说道：“糟糕透了！糟糕透了！”却没有说出糟糕的理由。另一个人只用一个词来回答：“精彩！精彩！”他也显出一副不屑讲出理由的样子。

拉法卢瓦兹觉得娜娜演得很好；他壮着胆量仅提了一个建议：如果娜娜再把嗓子练一练，那就更好了。斯泰内本来已不再听他们讲话，听了他的话，吃了一惊，仿佛从睡梦中惊醒。一切还得等着瞧。说不定在以下几幕里砸锅呢。观众对这出戏已经表现出了兴趣，但肯定没有达到被它扣住心弦的程度。米尼翁断言戏演不到底，在福什利和拉法卢瓦兹离开他们去楼上休息室时，他挽起斯泰内的胳膊，把身子靠在他的肩膀上，对他耳语道：“亲爱的，你去看看我妻子在第二幕里穿的服装吧……真是下流的服装！”

楼上休息室里，三盏水晶分枝吊灯发出耀眼光芒。表兄弟俩在门口迟疑了一会儿。透过打开的玻璃门，可以从走廊的一头望到另一头，只见人头攒动，分成进出两股人流，不停地流动着。他俩终于进去了。里边有五六群人在指手画脚地高声侃侃而谈，在人流中不肯挪动一步；其他人排成队走着，他们的脚后跟重重地踏在打蜡的地板上。左右两边的仿碧玉大理石的圆柱中间，一些女人坐在红丝绒垫子的长凳上，用疲惫的神态注视着过往的人流，似乎热得精疲力竭；在他们身后，有几面高大的镜子，从镜子里面可以看见她们的发髻。在屋子的尽头，一个大腹便便的男人在一张台子前喝一杯果子露。

福什利想呼吸呼吸新鲜空气，走到阳台上去。拉法卢瓦兹在仔细观看照片框内的女演员们的照片，照片框与镜子相间地挂在柱子中间，最后，他也随着福什利走到阳台上。剧院正门上边的一排煤气灯刚刚熄灭了。阳台上黑糊糊的，气温宜人，他们以为上面没有人。在右边的门洞外边，一个青年独自一人呆在黑暗中，胳膊肘撑在石栏杆上，抽着烟，烟头闪着火光。福什利认出他是达盖内，于是，他们握起手来。

“亲爱的，你在这里干什么？”新闻记者问道，“你躲在这小小的角落里，每次看首场演出，你都不离开前排座位。”

“我在抽烟，你看见了吗。”达盖内回答。福什利想让他难堪，问道：

“那么，你对这位新明星有什么看法？……在走道里，人们对她的看法都不大好。”

“哦！”达盖内嘟哝道，“他们都是她不会要的男人！”

这就是他对娜娜的天才的全部评价。拉法卢瓦兹俯着身子向大街上望去。对面的一家旅馆和一家俱乐部的窗户里灯火辉煌；而在人行道上，黑压压的一群饮客围坐在马德里咖啡馆的桌子旁。夜已深了，行人仍然拥挤不堪；人们只能迈着碎步走路，人流还不停地从儒弗鲁瓦胡同里出来，街上车辆排成长龙，行人要等上五分钟才能穿过马路。

“真是车水马龙，人声鼎沸！”拉法卢瓦兹连连说道，巴黎还在使他惊讶哩。

电铃已响了好长一阵子，休息室里已空无一人。观众在走道里急急匆匆地走着。幕布已升起，还有一些人三五成群地进来，已经坐下来的观众很恼火。每个人回到自己的座位上，脸上露出神采，又全神贯注地看戏了。拉法卢瓦兹首先看看加加；当他看见加加的身边坐着一个高个金发男子时，他惊讶了一阵子，他刚才还坐在吕西的边包厢里哩。

“那位先生叫什么名字？”他问道。

福什利还没有看那位先生。

“噢！看见了，他叫拉博德特。”福什利终于用毫不介意的神态说道。

第二幕的布景出人意料。那是一个名叫“黑球”的小酒店的舞场，舞场是用栅栏围成的。时间正值封斋前的星期二，即狂欢节的最后一天；戴假面具的人们一边唱轮舞曲，一边跳轮舞，唱到叠句时，就跺脚作伴奏。穿插这样粗俗的场面，完全出乎人们的意料，他们看得那样高兴，竟然要求再来一次。虹神吹牛自己熟悉尘世，愿为众神领路，结果众神都迷了路，于是，众神就在这里开始调查。为了隐姓埋名，众神都化了装。朱庇特化装成法兰克王达戈贝尔特入场，他反穿着短裤，头上戴一顶马口铁的大王冠。太阳神扮成隆朱莫驿站的马车夫。智慧女神扮成诺曼底的奶娘。观众用一阵哄堂大笑迎接了战神，因为战神穿着一件瑞士海军上将的怪诞服装。但是，等到海神一出场，人们笑得更欢了。海神身着一件工作服，头上戴着一顶鼓鼓胀胀的高大鸭舌帽，卷曲的鬓发贴在太阳穴上，脚上穿着拖鞋，他用沉浊的声音说道：“什么！一个人既然是美男子，就该有人爱！”这时候，场内发出了一阵“噢！”“噢！”声。妇女们把扇子稍微往上抬一抬。吕西坐在包厢里，她笑得那样响，卡罗利娜·埃凯便用手中的扇子轻轻扑了她一下，让她静下来。

从这时起，这出戏得救了，获得巨大成功已经在望。这种众神参加的狂欢节，把奥林匹斯山拖进泥泞里，戏谑整个宗教，戏谑诗情画意对观众来说，仿佛是一种绝美的享受。这种亵渎神祗的狂热已经蔓延到一些看首场演出的文人墨客身上。传奇遭践踏，古代的人物形象被摧残。朱庇特有一副和善的面孔，而战神则变得疯疯癫癫。众神的王朝变成了笑剧，军队则成了戏谑的对象。朱庇特一下子爱上了一个娇小的洗衣女，开始与她跳起狂乱的康康舞①来。洗衣女是西蒙娜扮演的，她把脚踢到主神的鼻子上，怪声怪气叫他：“我的胖老头！”这引起一阵哄堂大笑，笑声简直把剧院都震动了。在跳舞的时候，太阳神请智慧女神喝了几盆色拉酒；海神则端端庄庄地坐在七八个女人中间，她们在请他吃糕点。观众抓住那些带暗示的台词，并添加上一些猥亵的话语，一些无伤大雅的台词，只要池座里发出叫喊声，就改变了原来的意义。很久以来，观众在剧院里没有沉醉在比这更低级的荒唐举动中，这使他们感到闲适。

①十九世纪起巴黎流行的一种下流舞蹈。

这出戏就在这疯狂胡闹中继续下去。火神装扮成漂亮小伙子，穿一身黄色衣服，连手套也是黄色，一只眼里夹着单片眼镜，总是在追求爱神。爱神终于打扮成女鱼贩子上场，头上披着一块头巾，胸部隆起，上面挂满了大块金饰。白白胖胖的娜娜演这种大屁股、大嘴巴的人物是那样自然，她很快就赢得了全场观众的赞叹。一看到娜娜，人们就把罗丝·米尼翁遗忘了。罗丝扮演一个有趣的娃娃，头上戴着一顶柳条编的软垫帽，身着一条平纹细布短裙，她刚刚用迷人的声调诉说了对月神的怨恨。另一个胖乎乎的姑娘娜娜拍着大腿，像母鸡一样咯咯叫着，向她的周围散发着一种生命的气息，散发出一种女人的无限的征服力，观众为之倾倒了。从第二幕开始，她随便怎样演都行，她可以在台上举止粗野，可以连一个音符都唱不准，可以忘记台词；她只要转转身子，笑一笑，就能博得一阵喝彩声。每当她把人人皆知的扭屁股动作一做，池座里的观众的情绪就沸腾起来，这股热情从楼座上一层层升上去，一直升到楼顶为止。因此，当她在小酒店的舞场里领舞时，就会取得辉煌的成功。她在舞台上如同在自己家里一样，一手叉腰，仿佛把爱神搬到了道旁的阴沟里。音乐也似乎是为了她那郊区口音而伴奏的，那是一种芦笛的吹奏声，令人联想到圣克卢集市上的卖艺人的音乐，还配上单簧管的喷嚏声和短笛的欢快的颤音。

有两段乐曲又重奏了一遍。开幕时演奏的华尔兹舞曲，节奏放荡，现在又演奏了一遍，把众神送走。扮成农妇的天后当场抓住朱庇特和洗衣女，打了他耳光。月神突然撞见爱神正在与战神幽会，她赶紧去把他俩约会的地点和时间告诉火神，火神嚷道：“我自有办法。”下面的内容就不太清楚了。这次下凡调查最后以加洛普舞曲①结束，然后，朱庇特气喘吁吁，汗流浃背，王冠也没有戴，他宣布说，人间的小妇人们都是甜美可爱的，男人们都是有过错的。

①加洛普舞曲是一种欢快、两拍舞曲。

幕布落下来了，响起一片喝彩声。还有一些人声嘶力竭地叫道：

“全体演员出来！全体演员出来！”

这时候，幕又升起，演员们手挽着手再次出现在观众面前，娜娜和罗丝·米尼翁紧挨着站在中间，向观众连连行屈膝礼。观众中响起一阵掌声，雇来捧场的人们发出一片欢呼声。

然后，场子里慢慢地走了一半人。

“我得去向缪法伯爵夫人问个好。”拉法卢瓦兹说。

“对了，你把我也介绍一下，”福什利说，“然后我们一道下楼。”

可是要走到楼厅的包厢里真不容易。在楼上的走道里，观众拥挤不堪。在人群中间，要想往前走，必须侧转身子，用肘子开道，钻着空子走。那个胖胖的批评家把背靠在一盏燃着煤气火焰的铜灯下面，在一圈聚精会神的听众前面对这出戏进行评论。经过的人低声互相转告他的名字。据走廊里的人传说，他在整整一幕演出中，笑个没完没了；然而，现在他露出一副严肃的神态，评论这出戏的风格和伦理问题。稍远一点，有一位薄嘴唇的批评家，他满怀善意地评论这出戏，但言词中带有一种酸溜溜的味道，就像牛奶变酸了一样。

福什利用目光扫视了一下每个包厢，透过包厢门上的洞眼向里边看。德·旺德夫尔伯爵拦住他，问他想找谁；当他知道两个表兄弟要去向缪法伯爵夫妇问好时，他便向他指了指七号包厢，他刚从那儿出来。随后，他对新闻记者耳语道：

“喂，亲爱的，这个娜娜肯定就是有一天晚上我们在普鲁旺斯街的一个拐角上遇见的那个女子……”

“噢，你说得对，”福什利嚷道，“我说过我认识她！”

拉法卢瓦兹把他的表兄介绍给缪法·德·伯维尔伯爵，但伯爵的态度显得冷漠。而伯爵夫人一听到福什利的名字，便抬起头来。她用一句分寸得当的话来赞扬这位专栏作者在《费加罗报》上发表的文章。她把双肘撑在丝绒罩着的栏杆上，把肩膀轻盈一扭，转了半个身子，接着，他们交谈了一会儿，话题是万国博览会。

“那博览会一定很精彩，”伯爵说道，他那端端正正的方脸上保持着官方人士的严肃表情，“今天我到玛尔斯广场去过，我回来后，对它赞叹不已。”

“听说博览会还没有筹备好，”拉法卢瓦兹壮着胆子说，“准备工作还乱无头绪……”

伯爵用严肃的语调打断他的话：

“会准备好的……这是皇帝陛下的意愿。”

福什利兴致盎然地说，有一天他到那儿去搜集一篇文章的素材，那时，水族馆正在兴建，他差点被困在那里。伯爵夫人莞尔一笑。她不时向楼下场子里张望一下，抬起她的一只戴白手套的胳膊，那手套一直套到胳膊肘，另一只手轻轻摇着扇子。几乎空无一人的大厅仿佛昏昏欲睡了；正厅前座里的几位先生在翻阅报纸，妇女们无拘无束地接待来问好的人，如同在家里一样。在水晶大吊灯下面，只听见一些知心朋友的窃窃私语声，吊灯的光线，通过幕间休息时观众随意走动扬起的灰尘，亮度减弱了。男人们聚集在各个出口处，瞧着那些留在座位上的女人。他们在那儿一动不动地站一会儿，脖子伸得长长的，白衬衫在胸前露出来。

“下星期二，我们等你来。”伯爵夫人对拉法卢瓦兹说。

她还邀请福什利，他向她鞠了一躬。他们不谈那出戏了，也不提娜娜的名字了。伯爵的面孔上保持一副冷漠而庄重的神态，别人还以为他在参加立法会议呢。他把他们来看戏的原因，简单解释为他的岳父喜欢看戏。包厢的门只好一直开着，因为刚才德·舒阿尔侯爵把自己的位置让给来访者，出去还没回来，他站在包厢外，挺着高大的老人身躯，他的脸在宽边帽子下显得松弛而又苍白。他用模糊的目光盯着过往的女人。

福什利刚刚受到伯爵夫人的邀请，便告辞了，因为他觉得再谈那出戏是不适当的。拉法卢瓦兹最后走出包厢。刚才他在德·旺德夫尔伯爵的边包厢里，瞥见端端庄庄地坐着金色头发的拉博德特，他与布朗瑟·德·西弗里紧坐在一起谈话呢。

“啊！是这样，”他一赶上他的表哥就说，“这个拉博德特认识所有的女人吗？……他现在又与布朗瑟凑到一起了。”

“当然罗！他认识所有的女人，”福什利平心静气地回答，“亲爱的，难道你是外星人吗？”

这时走道里的人已经少了一些。福什利刚要下楼，吕西·斯图华便叫住他。她呆在走廊一头的她的边包厢门口。她说，包厢里热死了，于是她同卡罗利娜·埃凯母女俩呆在宽阔的走廊里，嘴里嚼着糖杏仁。一个女引座员与她们亲热地交谈着。吕西与新闻记者争执起来，她说他真殷勤，宁愿上楼去看望其他女人，也不问一声她们渴不渴！接着，她随口说道：

“亲爱的，你知道吗？我觉得娜娜演得很好。”

她想让他留在她的包厢里，陪她看完最后一幕；但是，他还是走了，答应等散场后在出口处等她们。在楼下剧院门前，福什利和拉法卢瓦兹点燃了香烟。观众一个接一个从剧院台阶上走下来，堵在人行道上，在马路上减弱的喧闹声中，呼吸着夜晚的新鲜空气。

这时候，米尼翁拉着斯泰内进了游艺咖啡馆。他见娜娜获得了成功，便热情地谈论起她来，一边瞟着银行家，他很了解银行家，他曾两次帮助银行家欺骗自己的妻子罗丝，等银行家的情欲一过，他又把他带到罗丝的身边，这时银行家表现得既后悔又忠诚。咖啡馆里顾客很多，他们都拥挤在大理石桌子周围；有些人匆匆忙忙站着喝咖啡；横动的人头映在高大的镜子里，一眼看不到头的狭窄的大厅里，三盏吊灯、仿皮漆布面子的长凳和铺着红地毯的螺旋楼梯都无限放大了。斯泰内走到第一厅里，坐到一张桌子旁，这个厅临大街，门已拆了，按照时令来说，拆得未免早了一些。福什利和拉法卢瓦兹从那儿经过时，银行家叫住他们，说道：

“来跟我们一起喝杯啤酒吧。”

但是斯泰内的头脑里，总是萦绕着一个念头：他想叫人把一束鲜花递给娜娜。他终于叫来一个侍者，他亲密地管他叫奥古斯特。米尼翁一边听着，一边目光炯炯地注视着斯泰内，他心里有些惴惴不安，期期艾艾说道：

“去买两束鲜花，奥古斯特，交给那个女引座员，两个女主角各送一束，要在合适的时候交给她们，听懂了吗？”

在咖啡厅的另一头，有一个姑娘，看上去年龄最多只有十八岁，她把颈背靠在一个镜框上，一动不动地呆在一只空杯子前，她像长时间等人未等到，神态迷惘了。她有一头美丽、灰色天然鬈发，模样像是处女，一双天鹅绒般的眼睛，显得温和而又天真；她穿着一条褪了色的绿绸袍子，头戴一顶圆帽，由于常常挨耳光，帽子变破了。夜晚的凉风吹得她脸色发白。

“哟！原来是萨丹在这里。”福什利瞥见那个姑娘悄声说道。

拉法卢瓦兹问福什利是怎么回事。哦！她是大街上的一名暗娼，算不了什么。但是，由于她很下流，大家总爱逗她谈话。于是，新闻记者拉大嗓门说道：

“萨丹，你呆在这儿干啥？”

“无聊呗！”萨丹一动也不动，若无其事地回答。

四个男人听了，开心得笑起来。

米尼翁向大家说，不必赶紧进场，第三幕布置布景就要花二十分钟。可是表兄弟俩喝了啤酒，身上有些冷，因而想进场。于是，仅剩下米尼翁和斯泰内两人，米尼翁把肘支在桌子上，面对面地对他说：

“嗯？这就说定了，我们到她家里去，我给你介绍……你知道，这件事只有我们两人知道，不必告诉我老婆。”

福什利和拉法卢瓦兹回到座位上后，发现第二排包厢里坐着一位衣著端庄的漂亮妇人。陪她看戏的是一个神态严肃的男人，他是内务部办公室主任，拉法卢瓦兹认识他，他在缪法家里遇见过他。而福什利呢，他相信这位太太就是罗贝尔夫人，她是一位正经女人，只有一个情人，没有第二个，而且她的情人是一位总是受人尊敬的人。

他们不得不转过身来。达盖内向他们嫣然一笑。现在娜娜已经获得了成功，达盖内不再躲躲闪闪了，刚才他在走廊里还洋洋得意呢。坐在他旁边的年轻的逃学中学生，没有离开过自己的座位，他崇拜娜娜到了如痴如醉的程度。他想女人就应该像娜娜这个样子。他兴奋得涨红了脸，情不自禁地把手套戴了又脱，脱了又戴。随后，他听见邻座上的观众在谈论娜娜，他便壮着胆子问道：

“对不起，先生，演戏的那位女子，您认识她吗？”

“对，有点认识。”达盖内对他的问话感到惊讶和犹豫，悄悄回答。

“那么，您知道她的住址吗？”

他如此生硬地问他，他气得真想打他一记耳光。

“不知道。”他用冷漠的口气回答道。

接着他转过身子。那个金发少年觉得刚才问题问得有些失礼，脸变得更红了，感到惶惶不安。

开幕的铃声响了三次，女引座员一定要把存放的衣服还给观众，她抱着皮大衣和短外套，在进场的人流中走动着。雇来捧场者一见这一幕的布景就鼓起掌来。

布景是埃特纳火山的一个山洞，山洞开凿在一个银矿里，山洞的两侧犹如新铸的银币闪闪发光，在山洞的尽头，火神的锻炉发出落日般的光芒。在第二幕中，月神同火神商量好，叫火神假装出外旅行，好让出位置来给爱神和战神幽会。随后，场上只剩下月神时。爱神就出场了。观众见娜娜身上一丝不挂，不禁浑身打了一个寒颤。她坦然而又大胆，赤身裸体地出现在舞台上，对自己的肉体的无比威力笃信无疑。她裹着一身薄纱，她那圆圆的肩膀，隆起的乳房，像喷嘴一样挺直的粉红色的奶头，极其肉感并不停摆动的宽大臀部，肥胖的金发女郎的大腿，以及整个身体，在那轻盈的白得像泡沫的料子下面都能让人揣摩出来，看得清清楚楚。她犹如正从波涛中显露出来，除了头发，没有任何东西遮掩身体。每当娜娜举起臂膀时，在排灯的照射下，可以清楚地看见她腋窝下的金色腋毛。这时舞台下没有掌声，谁也不笑了。男人们的脸上都露出严肃的神态，肌肉绷得紧紧的，鼻子收缩，口干舌燥。仿佛有一阵微风吹过，风里蕴藏着一种无声的威胁。突然间，在这个姑娘的身上，出现了成年女人的特性，她变得令人不安，身上带着女性的狂热，开放了情欲的不可知的门户。娜娜一直微笑着，那是一种犀利的微笑，仿佛要把男人吞噬掉。

“真没想到！”福什利简单地对拉法卢瓦兹说。

这时候，战神头上插着翎毛，匆忙去幽会，他受到两个女神的夹攻。有一个场面，普律利埃尔演得很出色。战神一方面受到月神的爱抚，月神在把他送交给火神之前，还想作最后一次努力，把他争取过来；另一方面，他又受到爱神的爱抚，因为情敌当前，爱神更加精神抖擞。战神沉醉在这些脉脉温情之中，露出一副因受到百般照顾而怡然自得的神态。随后是一部三重大合唱结束了这场戏。就在这时候，一个女引座员出现在吕西·斯图华的包厢里，向台上扔下两大束白丁香花。大家一起鼓起掌来。娜娜和罗丝·米尼翁向观众鞠躬致谢，普律利埃尔捡起两束花。池座里的一部分观众转过头来，对着斯泰内和米尼翁的楼下包厢微笑。银行家的脸涨得通红，下巴的肌肉微微抽搐，好像有什么东西塞在喉咙里。

接下来的情节令全场观众昏昏欲醉。月神愤愤走了。倏地坐到一张苔藓长凳子上的爱神召唤战神到她身边来。人们从来没有敢上演过这样大胆勾引男人的场面。娜娜用胳膊搂住普律利埃尔的脖子，把他拉向自己；这时候，演火神的丰唐出现在山洞的深处，他扮演一个当场抓住通奸妻子的丈夫，他那副滑稽、愤怒的神态，把戴绿帽子丈夫的表情夸张了。他手里拿着那著名的铁丝网。他把网摇了一会儿，就像渔夫撒网时的动作；他用一个巧妙的技法，使爱神和战神上当就擒。铁丝网把他们裹在里面，不能动弹，仍然保持一对幸福情人的姿势。

低语声越来越响，犹如一阵叹息声在慢慢高起来。有几个人鼓起掌来，所有的望远镜都对准爱神。娜娜慢慢地引起观众的仰慕，现在，娜娜能被每个人接受了。从她身上发出的一股春情，如同从发情期的动物身上发出来似的，总是在不断地扩散着，充斥了大厅。在这样的时候，她的每个微小的动作都能燃起人们的欲火，连她的小指头的动作都能引起人们的肉欲。一些人弓着背，背在颤动着，好像有若干看不见的琴弓在肌肉上抽动，长在他们颈后的细发，仿佛被不知从哪个女人嘴里吹出来的温暖而飘忽的气息吹拂得微微飘动。福什利看见那个逃学的中学生，由于情欲的冲动，从座位上站起来。出于好奇心，他看看德·旺德夫尔伯爵，伯爵面色苍白，嘴唇抿得紧紧的，又看看胖子斯泰内，他那中风般的脸简直像死人一样，再看看拉博德特，他像一个马贩子，带着神奇的神态用一只望远镜在欣赏一匹完美无缺的母马，而达盖内呢，两耳涨得红红的，乐得摇头晃脑。随后，他又向后边看了一会儿，他对在缪法夫妇的包厢里所看到的情景感到惊讶：在皮肤白皙、表情严肃的伯爵夫人后面，坐着伯爵，他把身子拉得高高的，张着嘴巴，脸上布满红色斑点；他的旁边，坐在黑暗中的舒阿尔侯爵，混浊的眼睛变成了猫眼睛，发出闪闪金色磷光。人们感到窒息，大伙的头上流着汗，头发变得沉甸甸的。观众在那里已经呆了三个钟头，呼出来的气息夹杂着人身上的气味，使场内的温度升高了。在煤气灯的火焰般的光芒照耀下，空中的尘埃在大吊灯下变浓了，整个大厅摇晃起来，观众开始觉得头晕目眩，感到疲乏而兴奋，充满午夜时分的卧室中的朦胧睡意。而娜娜，面对着一千五百个济济一堂、昏昏欲睡的观众，面对着这些演出结束时精神疲惫和神经异常的观众，凭借着她那大理石般的白皙的肌肤和她那强烈的性感，赢得了胜利，这种性感足以毫无损害地摧毁全体观众。

戏演完了。听到火神的胜利的呼唤，奥林匹斯山众神列队在一对情人面前走过，一边发出“啊！唉！”“啊！唉！”等惊讶和快乐的喊声。朱庇特说：“我的孩子，你叫我们来看这个，我觉得你有些轻浮了。”接着，情节变得有利于爱神。乌龟合唱队又被虹神带来了，他们哀求主神不要审理他们的诉状了，因为自从他们的妻子呆在家里后，男人们简直无法在家里生活，他们当乌龟，反而高兴。这就是这出戏的主题。于是，爱神被释放了。火神被判处夫妻分居。战神和月神言归于好。为了使家庭生活安宁，朱庇特把他的小洗衣女送到一个星座上去。人们终于把爱神从她的囚室中拉出来，她在那里时并未练习动词“爱”的变位，而是折摺纸鸡。闭幕时剧情发展到最高潮，乌龟合唱队跪在爱神面前，唱感恩歌，爱神微笑着，她那具有无比吸引力的裸体使她显得高大起来。

观众站起来，向门口走去。有人叫着剧作者的名字，在雷鸣般的喝彩声中，观众两次鼓掌要求演员谢幕。“娜娜！娜娜！”的叫声震响着。随后，观众还未走完，大厅内就暗下来，成排脚灯熄灭了，大吊灯的光线变暗了，长长的灰色布罩从舞台两侧的包厢上落下来，盖住了楼厅的金色装饰。那样炎热、人声鼎沸的大厅，顿时仿佛沉睡了，发出一股霉味和尘土的气味。缪法伯爵夫人站在她的包厢边沿，等待观众离去，她站得挺直，身著柔软暖和的皮衣，瞅着暗处。

在走廊里，观众向女引座员们催着要衣服，她们面对那些倒下来的衣服，个个忙得晕头转向。福什利和拉法卢瓦兹匆匆走在前头，想目睹一下观众散场时的情景。前厅里男人们排成一行，在两边的楼梯上，两队整齐而密集的观众还没完没了地往下走。斯泰内拉着米尼翁，走在前边的人群中。德·旺德夫尔伯爵挽着布朗瑟·德·西弗里走了。加加与其女儿似乎不知怎么走是好，拉博德特赶紧去为她们找了一辆马车，她们上车后，他还殷勤地给她们关上车门。谁也没有看见达盖内走过。那个逃学的中学生，脸上火辣辣的，决定到门前等待演员们出来，他向着全景胡同跑去，结果发现胡同的栅栏关着。萨丹站在人行道上，走过来用裙子撩擦他；由于心情不好，他粗暴地拒绝了她。她眼里噙着欲望和无能为力的泪水，消失在人群中。一些观众抽着雪茄，一边走，一边哼着：

黄昏时分，爱神在徜徉……

萨丹又到了游艺咖啡店前面，侍者奥古斯特让她吃客人吃剩下来的糖。最后，一个胖男子高高兴兴地把她带走了，一起消失在渐渐沉睡下来的大街的暗影中。

还不断有观众下楼梯。拉法卢瓦兹在等候克拉利瑟。福什利答应过等候吕西·斯图华和卡罗利娜·埃凯母女俩。她们来了，占据了前厅整整一个角落，在那儿大声说笑，而此时，缪法夫妇正神态冷漠地从那儿走过。博尔德纳夫正好推开一扇小门出来，福什利正式允诺他，要给他的戏写一篇评论文章。这时，博尔德纳夫汗流满面，满面红光，仿佛被成功陶醉了。

“这出戏可以连演二百场，”拉法卢瓦兹恭维他道，“巴黎人都会络绎不绝地来你的剧院看戏。”

可是博尔德纳夫恼火了，他猛然抬起下巴，示意拉法卢瓦兹看看拥挤在前厅里的观众。这群吵吵嚷嚷的男人，个个口干舌燥，眼睛红似火，他们浑身发热，心里还想着娜娜。接着，博尔德纳夫嚷道：

“就叫我的妓院吧，固执的家伙！”