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Updated: June 20, 2025
That Chamber of Horrors at Montmartre, that tavern where Legras sings the 'Flowers of the Streets' " "Oh! a delightful spot, madame," interrupted Massot, "I wouldn't take even a gendarme there." "No, don't jest, Monsieur Massot, I'm talking seriously. Isn't it quite allowable for a respectable woman to go there when she's accompanied by a gentleman?"
"Monsieur Legras, bring me ten thousand francs, and a note of hand for that amount, drawn to my order, at ninety days' sight, by monsieur, who is Monsieur Cesar Birotteau, you know." Du Tillet cut the pate, poured out a glass of claret, and urged Cesar to eat.
That Chamber of Horrors at Montmartre, that tavern where Legras sings the 'Flowers of the Streets' " "Oh! a delightful spot, madame," interrupted Massot, "I wouldn't take even a gendarme there." "No, don't jest, Monsieur Massot, I'm talking seriously. Isn't it quite allowable for a respectable woman to go there when she's accompanied by a gentleman?"
But the scorching insult of it all was less in the words themselves than in the manner in which Legras cast them in the faces of the rich, the happy, the beautiful ladies who came to listen to him.
A prelude was played on the piano, and Legras standing there in his velvet jacket sang "La Chemise," the horrible song which brought all Paris to hear him.
But the scorching insult of it all was less in the words themselves than in the manner in which Legras cast them in the faces of the rich, the happy, the beautiful ladies who came to listen to him.
"But, my dear Baron, everybody goes to the Chamber of Horrors," said he. "Why, I myself have taken the noblest ladies there, and precisely to hear that song of Legras, which is no worse than anything else." "Ah! you hear what Duthil says!" cried Silviane. "He's a deputy, he is, and he wouldn't go there if he thought it would compromise his honorability!"
What an opportunity to get back some of the wealth of the community appropriated by the blackguard /bourgeoisie/! Meantime Raphanel, after applauding Legras, was looking all round the place with his little grey, sharp eyes. And at last young Mathis and his companion, the ill-clad individual, of whose face only a scrap of beard could be seen, attracted his attention.
It had been sufficient for an enterprising fellow to set up these boards, bring out Legras, accompanied by two or three girls, make him sing his frantic and abominable songs, and in two or three evenings overwhelming success had come, all Paris being enticed and flocking to the place, which for ten years or so had failed to pay as a mere cafe, where by way of amusement petty cits had been simply allowed their daily games at dominoes.
A prelude was played on the piano, and Legras standing there in his velvet jacket sang "La Chemise," the horrible song which brought all Paris to hear him.
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