the ways of men-第31节

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　white　on　the　horizon；　like　some　classic　virgin　assisting　at　an　　Olympian　solemnity。

On　the　stage；　partly　cleared　of　the　debris　of　fifteen　hundred　　years；　trees　had　been　left　where　they　had　grown；　among　fallen　　columns；　fragments　of　capital　and　statue；　near　the　front　a　　superb　rose…laurel　recalled　the　Attic　shores。　　To　the　right；　　wild　grasses　and　herbs　alternated　with　thick　shrubbery；　among　　which　Orestes　hid　later；　during　the　lamentations　of　his　　sister。　　To　the　left　a　gigantic　fig…tree；　growing　again　the　　dark　wall；　threw　its　branches　far　out　over　the　stage。

It　was　from　behind　its　foliage　that　〃Gaul；〃　〃Provence；〃　and　　〃France；〃　personated　by　three　actresses　of　the　〃Francais；〃　　advanced　to　salute　Apollo；　seated　on　his　rustic　throne；　in　the　　prologue　which　began　the　performance。

Since　midday　the　weather　had　been　threatening。　　At　seven　　o'clock　there　was　almost　a　shower　…　a　moment　of　terrible　　anxiety。　　What　a　misfortune　if　it　should　rain；　just　as　the　　actors　were　to　appear；　here；　where　it　had　not　rained　for　　nearly　four　months！　　My　right…hand　neighbor；　a　citizen　of　　Beaucaire；　assures　me；　〃It　will　be　nothing；　only　a　strong　　‘mistral'　for　to…morrow。〃　　An　electrician　is　putting　the　　finishing　touches　to　his　arrangements。　　He　tries　vainly　to　　concentrate　some　light　on　the　box　where　the　committee　is　to　　sit；　which　is　screened　by　a　bit　of　crumbling　wall；　but　finally　　gives　it　up。

Suddenly　the　bugles　sound；　the　orchestra　rings　out　the　　Marseillaise；　it　is　eight　o'clock。　　The　sky　is　wild　and　　threatening。　　An　unseen　hand　strikes　the　three　traditional　　blows。　　The　Faun　Lybrian　slips　down　from　a　branch　of　a　great　　elm；　and　throws　himself　on　the　steps　that　later　are　to　　represent　the　entrance　to　the　palace　of　Agamemnon；　and　　commences　the　prologue　（an　invocation　to　Apollo）；　in　the　midst　　of　such　confusion　that　we　hear　hardly　a　word。　　Little　by　　little；　however；　the　crowd　quiets　down；　and　I　catch　Louis　　Gallet's　fine　lines；　marvellously　phrased　by　Mesdames　Bartet；　　Dudlay；　Moreno；　and　the　handsome　Fenoux　as　Apollo。

The　real　interest　of　the　public　is　only　aroused；　however；　when　　THE　ERYNNIES　begins。　　This　powerful　adaptation　from　the　　tragedy　of　AEschylus　is　THE　CHEF　D'OEUVRE　of　Leconte　de　Lisle。　　　The　silence　is　now　complete。　　One　feels　in　the　air　that　the　　moment　so　long　and　so　anxiously　awaited　has　come；　that　a　great　　event　is　about　to　take　place。　　Every　eye　is　fixed　on　the　　stage；　waiting　to　see　what　will　appear　from　behind　the　dark　　arches　of　the　proscenium。　　A　faint；　plaintive　strain　of　music　　floats　out　on　the　silence。　　Demons　crawl　among　the　leafy　　shadows。　　Not　a　light　is　visible；　yet　the　centre　of　the　stage　　is　in　strong　relief；　shading　off　into　a　thousand　fantastic　　shadows。　　The　audience　sits　in　complete　darkness。　　Then　we　see　　the　people　of　Argos；　winding　toward　us　from　among　the　trees；　　lamenting；　as　they　have　done　each　day　for　ten　years；　the　long　　absence　of　their　sons　and　their　king。　　The　old　men　no　longer　　dare　to　consult　the　oracles；　fearing　to　learn　that　all　is　　lost。　　The　beauty　of　this　lament　roused　the　first　murmur　of　　applause；　each　word；　each　syllable；　chiming　out　across　that　　vast　semicircle　with　a　clearness　and　an　effect　impossible　to　　describe。

Now　it　is　the　sentinel；　who　from　his　watch…tower　has　caught　　the　first　glimpse　of　the　returning　army。　　We　hear　him　dashing　　like　a　torrent　down　the　turret　stair；　at　the　doorway；　his　　garments　blown　by　the　wind；　his　body　bending　forward　in　a　　splendid　pose　of　joy　and　exultation；　he　announces　in　a　voice　　of　thunder　the　arrival　of　the　king。

So　completely　are　the　twenty　thousand　spectators　under　the　　spell　of　the　drama　that　at　this　news　one　can　feel　a　thrill　　pass　over　the　throng；　whom　the　splendid　verses　hold　　palpitating　under　their　charm；　awaiting　only　the　end　of　the　　tirade　to　break　into　applause。

From　that　moment　the　performance　is　one　long　triumph。　　　Clytemnestra　（Madame　Lerou）　comes　with　her　suite　to　receive　　the　king　（Mounet…Sully）；　the　conqueror！　　I　never　realized　　before　all　the　perfection　that　training　can　give　the　speaking　　voice。　　Each　syllable　seemed　to　ring　out　with　a　bell…like　　clearness。　　As　she　gradually　rose　in　the　last　act　to　the　scene　　with　Orestes；　I　understood　the　use　of　the　great　wall　behind　　the　actors。　　It　increased　the　power　of　the　voices　and　lent　　them　a　sonority　difficult　to　believe。　　The　effect　was　　overwhelming　when；　unable　to　escape　death；　Clytemnestra　cries　　out　her　horrible　imprecations。

Mounet…Sully　surpassed　himself。　　Paul　Mounet　gave　us　the　　complete　illusion　of　a　monster　thirsting　for　blood；　even　his　　mother's！　　When　striking　her　as　she　struck　his　father；　he　　answers　her　despairing　query；　〃Thou　wouldst　not　slay　thy　　mother？〃　　〃Woman；　thou　hast　ceased　to　be　a　mother！〃　　Dudlay　　（as　Cassandra）　reaches　a　splendid　climax　when　she　prophesies　　the　misfortune　hanging　over　her　family；　which　she　is　powerless　　to　avert。

It　is　impossible　in　feeble　prose　to　give　any　idea　of　the　　impression　those　lines　produce　in　the　stupendous　theatre；　　packed　to　its　utmost　limits　…　the　wild　night；　with　a　storm　in　　the　air；　a　stage　which　seems　like　a　clearing　in　some　forest　　inhabited　by　Titans；　the　terrible　tragedy　of　AEschylus　　following　the　graceful　fete　of　Apollo。

After　the　unavoidable　confusion　at　the　beginning；　the　vast　　audience　listen　in　profound　silence　to　an　expression　of　pure　　art。　　They　are　no　longer　actors　we　hear；　but　demi…gods。　　With　　voices　of　the　storm；　possessed　by　some　divine　afflatus；　　thundering　out　verses　of　fire　…　carried　out　of　themselves　in　a　　whirlwind　of　passion；　like　antique　prophets　and　Sibyls　　foretelling　the　misfortunes　of　the　world！

That　night　will　remain　immutably　fixed　in　my　memory；　if　I　live　　to　be　as　old　as　the　theatre　itself。　　We　were　so　moved；　my　　companion　and　I；　and　had　seen　the　crowd　so　moved；　that　fearing　　to　efface　the　impression　if　we　returned　the　second　night　to　　see　ANTIGONE；　we　came　quietly　away；　pondering　over　it　all；　and　　realizing　once　again　that　a　thing　of　beauty　is　a　source　of　　eternal　delight。




Chapter　26　…　Pre…palatial　Newport


THE　historic　Ocean　House　of　Newport　is　a　ruin。　　Flames　have　　laid　low　the　unsightly　structure　that　was　at　one　time　the　　best…known　hotel　in　America。　　Its　fifty…odd　years　of　　existence；　as　well　as　its　day；　are　over。　　Having　served　a　　purpose；　it　has　departed；　together　with　the　generation　and　　habits　of　life　that　produced　it；　into　the　limbo　where　old　　houses；　old　customs；　and　superannuated　ideas　survive；　…　the　　memory　of　the　few　who　like　to　recall　other　days　and　wander　　from　time　to　time　in　a　reconstructed　past。

There　was　a　certain　appropriateness　in　the　manner　of　its　　taking　off。　　The　proud　old　structure　had　doubtless　heard　　projects　of　rebuilding　discussed　by　its　owners　（who　for　some　　years　had　been　threatening　to　tear　it　down）；　wounded　doubtless　　by　unflattering　truths；　the　hotel　decided　that　if　its　days　　were　numbered；　an　exit　worthy　of　a　leading　role　was　at　least　　possible。　　〃Pull　me　down；　indeed！　　That　is　all　very　well　for　　ordinary　hostleries；　but　from　an　establishment　of　my　　pretensions；　that　has　received　the　aristocracy　of　the　country；　　and　countless　foreign　swells；　something　more　is　expected！〃

So　it　turned　the　matter　over　and　debated　within　its　shaky　old　　brain　（Mrs。　　Skewton　fashion）　what　would　be　the　most　becoming　　and　effective　way　of　retiring　from　the　social　whirl。　　Balls　　have　been　overdone；　people　are　no　longer　tempted　by　　receptions；　a　banquet　was　out　of　the　question。　　Suddenly　the　　wily　building　hit　on　an　idea。　　〃I'll　give　them　a　FEU　　D'ARTIFICE。　　There　hasn't　been　a　first…class　fire　here　since　I　　burned　myself　down　fifty…three　years　ago！　　That　kind　of　　entertainment　hasn't　been　run　into　the　ground　like　everything　　else　in　these　degenerate　days！　　I'll　do　it　in　the　best　and　　most　complete　way；　and　give　Newport　something　to　talk　about；　　whenever　my　name　shall　be　mentioned　in　the　future！〃

Daudet；　in　his　L'IMMORTEL；　shows　us　how　some　people　are　born　　lucky。　　His　〃Loisel　of　the　Institute；〃　although　an　　insignificant　and　commonplace　man；　succeeded　all　through　life　　in　keeping　himself　before　the　public；　and　getting　talked　about　　as　a　celebrity。　　He　even　arranged　（to　the　disgust　and　envy　of　　his　rivals）　to　die　during　a　week　when　no　event　of　importance　　was　occupying　public　attention。　　In　consequence；　reporters；　　being　short　of　〃copy；〃　owing　to　a　dearth　of　murders　and　〃first　　nights；〃　seized　on　this　demise　and　made　his　funeral　an　event。

The　truth　is；　the　Ocean　House　had　lived　so　long　in　an　　atmosphere　of　ostentatious　worldliness　that；　like　many　　residents　of　the　summer　city；　it　had　come　to　take　itself　and　　its　〃position〃　seriously；　and　imagine　that　the　eyes　of　the　　country　were　fixed　upon　and　expected　something　of　it。

The　air　of　Newport　has　always　proved　fatal　to　big　hotels。　　One　　after　another　they　have　appeared　and　failed；　the　Ocean　House　　alone　dragging　out　a　forlorn　existence。　　As　the　flames　worked　　their　will　and　the　careless　crowd　enjoyed　the　spectacle；　one　　could　not　help　feeling　a　vague　regret　for　the　old　place；　more　　for　what　it　represented　than　for　any　intrinsic　value　of　its　　own。　　Without　greatly　stretching　a　point　it　might　be　taken　to　　represent　a　social　condition；　a　phase；　as　it　were；　in　our　　development。　　In　a　certain　o