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You are my discovery, Scaramouche. I have discovered you to yourself. I have set your feet upon the road to fame and fortune. I await your thanks." Scaramouche laughed at him, and his laugh was not altogether pleasant. "Always Pantaloon!" said he. The great countenance became overcast. "I see that you do not yet forgive me the little stratagem by which I forced you to do justice to yourself.
And it rolled on and on, nor ceased until the curtain fell. Scaramouche stood meditatively smiling with tight lips. At the last moment he had caught a glimpse of M. de La Tour d'Azyr's face thrust farther forward than usual from the shadows of his box, and it was a face set in anger, with eyes on fire.
It was given me, so I am told, from the Brittany village in which I was born. But I have no claim to it. In fact I have no name, unless it be Scaramouche, to which I have earned a title. So that you see, my dear," he ended with a smile, "I have practised no deception whatever." "No, no. I see that now." She laughed without mirth, then drew a deep breath and rose. "I am very tired," she said.
He slipped by the door of the green-room, where the ladies of the company had shut themselves in until the storm should be over, and so gained the street behind the theatre. It was deserted. Down this he went at a run, intent on reaching the inn for clothes and money, since it was impossible that he should take the road in the garb of Scaramouche.
Several of the figures in the Italian comedy had already passed into French popular drama, and in Watteau's time there seems to have been a fluctuating company, according as one actor or actress or another developed a part, and to Pantalone, Arlecchino, Dottore and Columbina were now added Pierrot or Gilles Mezetin, a sort of double of Pierrot, Scaramouche and Scapin.
Is it possible that there are limits to your shamelessness?" Binet reared his great head. "Do you want to quarrel with me, Scaramouche?" Thunder was rumbling in his deep voice. "Quarrel? You want to laugh. A man doesn't quarrel with creatures like you. We all know the place held in the public esteem by complacent husbands. But, in God's name, what place is there at all for complacent fathers?"
Thus Andre-Louis to himself in his self-contempt. And whilst he trifled away his time and played Scaramouche, and centred all his hopes in presently becoming the rival of such men as Chenier and Mercier, M. de La Tour d'Azyr went his proud ways unchallenged and wrought his will. It was idle to tell himself that the seed he had sown was bearing fruit.
Although the scenario of "Lee Fourberies de Scaramouche" has not apparently survived, yet we know from Andre-Louis' "Confessions" that it is opened by Polichinelle in the character of an arrogant and fiercely jealous lover shown in the act of beguiling the waiting-maid, Columbine, to play the spy upon her mistress, Climene.
Consider that you are not asking Scaramouche here whether he has put a patch in your breeches. You are a despairing lover expressing..." He checked abruptly, startled. Andre-Louis, suddenly realizing what was afoot, and how duped he had been, had loosed his laughter. The sound of it pealing and booming uncannily under the great roof that so immediately confined him was startling to those below.
Binet's little eyes followed them with a malicious gleam, his thick lips pouted into a crooked smile. "You two are grown very friendly of a sudden," he mocked. "You are a man of discernment, Binet," said Scaramouche, the cold loathing of his voice itself an insult. "Perhaps you discern the reason?" "It is readily discerned." "Regale the company with it!" he begged; and waited. "What? You hesitate?
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