His Excellency the Minister | Page 7

some black spots seemed as if dancing, strange silhouettes of the
visitors in their dress clothes, standing out clearly against the yellow
background like the shadows of Chinese figures.
"It is very amusing; but let us see the greenroom," said the minister.
"You are familiar with the greenroom, Granet?"
"I am a Parisian," returned the deputy, without too great an emphasis;
but the ironical smile which accompanied his words made Vaudrey

understand that his colleague looked upon his Excellency as fresh from
the province and still smacking of its manners.
Sulpice hesitatingly crossed the stage in the midst of a hubbub like that
of a man-of-war getting ready for action, caused by the methodical
destruction and removal of the scenery comprising the huge ship used
in L'Africaine by a swarm of workmen in blue vests, yelling and
shoving quickly before them, or carrying away sections of masts and
parts of ladders, hurrying out of sight by way of trap-doors and
man-holes, this carcass of a work of art; this spectacle of a great swarm
of human ants, running hither and thither, pulling and tugging at this
immense piece of stage decoration, in the vast frame capable of holding
at one and the same time, a cathedral and a factory, was rather
awe-inspiring to the statesman, who stopped short to look at it, while
the tails of his coat brushed against the fallen curtain.
From both sides of the stage, from the stage-boxes, opera-glasses were
turned upon him here and there and a murmur like a breeze came
wafted towards him.
"It is the new Minister of the Interior!"
"Nonsense! Monsieur Vaudrey?"
"Monsieur Vaudrey."
Vaudrey proudly drew himself up under the battery of opera-glasses
levelled at him, while Granet, smiling, said to the master of the chorus
who, dressed in a black coat, stood near him:
"It can be easily seen that this is his first visit here!"
Oh! yes, truly, it was the first time that the new minister had set his foot
in the wings of the Opéra! He relished it with all the curiosity of a
youth and the gusto of a collegian. How fortunate that he had not
brought Madame Vaudrey, who was slightly indisposed. This rapid
survey of a world unknown to him, had the flavor of an escapade.
There was a little spice in this amusing adventure.

Behind the canvas in the rear, some musicians, costumed as Brahmins,
with spectacles on their noses, the better to decipher their score,
fingered their brass instruments with a weary air, rocking them like
infants in swaddling clothes. Actors in the garb of Indians, with painted
cheeks, and legs encased in chocolate-colored bandages, were yawning,
weary and flabby, and stretching themselves while awaiting the time
for them to present themselves upon the stage. Others, dressed like
soldiers, were sleeping on the wooden benches against the walls, their
mouths open, their helmets drawn down over their noses like visors.
Others, their pikes serving them for canes, had taken off their headgear
and placed it at their feet, the better to rest their heads against the wall,
where they leaned with their eyes shut.
Little girls, all of them thin, and in short skirts, were already pirouetting,
and humming airs. Older girls stood about with their legs crossed, or,
half-stooping, displayed their bosoms while retying the laces of their
pink shoes. Others, wearing a kind of Siamese headdress with
ornaments of gold, were laughing and clashing together their little
silver cymbals. Awkward fellows with false beards, dressed like high
priests in robes of yellow, striped with red, elbowed past and jostled
against the girls quite unceremoniously. An usher, dressed à la
Française, and wearing a chain around his neck, paced, grave and
melancholy, amongst these shameless young girls.
The greenroom at the end of the stage was entered through a large
vestibule hung with curtains of grayish velvet shot with violet, and at
the top of the steps where some men in dress-clothes were talking to
ballet-girls, Vaudrey could see in the great salon beyond, blazing with
light, groups of half-nude women surrounded by men, resembling, in
their black clothes, beetles crawling about roses, the whole company
reflected in a flood of light, in an immense mirror that covered one end
of the room. Little by little, Vaudrey could make out above the
paintings representing ancient dances, and the portraits by Camargo or
Noverre, a confusion of gaudy skirts, pink legs, white shoulders, with
the ubiquitous black coats sprinkled about here and there amongst these
bright colors like large blots of ink upon ball-dresses.

Sulpice had often heard the greenroom of the ballet spoken about, and
he was at once completely disillusioned. The glaring, brutal light
ruthlessly exposed the worn and faded hangings; and the pretty girls in
their full, short, gauzy petticoats, with