and the performance is going to begin."

He dropt his oratorical tone, and resumed his usual voice.

"Close the curtains. Let me breathe. I have spoken like honey. I have

spoken well. My words were like velvet; but they were useless. I called

them my lords and gentlemen. What do you think of all this scum,

Gwynplaine? How well may we estimate the ills which England has suffered

for the last forty years through the ill-temper of these irritable and

malicious spirits! The ancient Britons were warlike; these are

melancholy and learned. They glory in despising the laws and contemning

royal authority. I have done all that human eloquence can do. I have

been prodigal of metonymics, as gracious as the blooming cheek of youth.

Were they softened by them? I doubt it. What can affect a people who eat

so extraordinarily, who stupefy themselves by tobacco so completely that

their literary men often write their works with a pipe in their mouths?

Never mind. Let us begin the play."

The rings of the curtain were heard being drawn over the rod. The

tambourines of the gipsies were still. Ursus took down his instrument,

executed his prelude, and said in a low tone: "Alas, Gwynplaine, how

mysterious it is!" then he flung himself down with the wolf.

When he had taken down his instrument, he had also taken from the nail a

rough wig which he had, and which he had thrown on the stage in a corner

within his reach. The performance of "Chaos Vanquished" took place as

usual, minus only the effect of the blue light and the brilliancy of the

700

The Man Who Laughs