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At present Ligier is considered their best tragedian, but principally owes what fame he has, to their actors in that department being of so mediocre a description, some people prefer Beauvallet but not the majority, their abilities are very nearly of the same stamp. Guyon is a fine young man, and plays the parts of young heroes very fairly.
No one knows beforehand." "Yes, yes; I know, though. Monsieur Auber told me. I am to go into Monsieur Provost's class. Monsieur Beauvallet wanted me, but his voice is too loud for me!" A disagreeable girl exclaimed, "Can't you stop that? And so they all want you!" A pretty girl, who was too dark, though, for my taste, came nearer and asked me gently what I had recited.
I did not utter a word, but pointed to M. Provost. "That's all right. Get your handkerchief out, my poor Beauvallet, and I shall entrust this child to you, my dear Provost." I understood, and, wild with joy, I exclaimed, "Then I have passed?" "Yes, you have passed; and there is only one thing I regret, and that is that such a pretty voice should not be for music."
The Commune assembled here is such as the Jacobin purge has made it, judges and jurors of the Revolutionary Tribunal, artists like Beauvallet and Gamelin, householders living on their means and college professors, cosy citizens, well-to-do tradesmen, powdered heads, fat paunches, and gold watch-chains, very few sabots, striped trousers, carmagnole smocks and red caps.
Charity pointed to the big chair in the sunlight. "This will probably be hard for you two," she warned them frankly. "If you get tired, don't hesitate to tell me. I'll give you a rest every ten minutes. Val, you sit down in the chair. Slump over toward that arm as if you were about finished. No, more limp than that. Now look straight ahead. You are on the terrace of Beauvallet.
M. Auber stopped me as I was passing by the table. "Well, little girl," he said, "that was very good indeed. M. Provost and M. Beauvallet both want you in their class." I recoiled slightly when he told me which was M. Beauvallet, for he was the "ventriloquist" who had given me such a fright. "Well, which of these two gentlemen should you prefer?" he asked.
Duquesnel had the happy idea of putting Athalie on again, with Mendelssohn's choruses. Beauvallet, who had been odious as a professor, was charming as a comrade. By special permission from the Ministry he was to play Joad. The role of Zacharie was assigned to me. Some of the Conservatoire pupils were to take the spoken choruses, and the female pupils who studied singing undertook the musical part.
"Your competition was not at all good, but nevertheless we feel sure of you," put in M. Regnier, and then turning to Camille Doucet he asked, "What do you say, Excellency?" "I think that this child will be a very great artist," he replied. There was a silence for a moment. "Well, you have got a fine carriage!" exclaimed Beauvallet rudely.
Beauvallet, in my opinion, did not teach anything that was any good. He had a deep, effective voice, but that he could not give to any one. It was an admirable instrument, but it did not give him any talent. He was awkward in his gestures; his arms were too short and his face common. I detested him as a professor. Samson was just the opposite. His voice was not strong, but piercing.
The rehearsals were so bad that Duquesnel and Chilly were in despair. Beauvallet, who was more agreeable now, but not choice in his language, muttered some terrible words. We began over and over again, but it was all to no purpose. The spoken choruses were simply abominable. When suddenly Chilly exclaimed: "Well, let the young one say all the spoken choruses.
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