"Would she but deign to hear me

And with one smile to cheer me ..."

"The little baggage!" growled the count.

And he wondered what she wanted. What she was hoping for... She was a

virtuous girl, she was said to have no friend, no protector of any sort

... That angel from the North must be very artful!

Raoul, behind the curtain of his hands that veiled his boyish tears,

thought only of the letter which he received on his return to Paris,

where Christine, fleeing from Perros like a thief in the night, had

arrived before him: MY DEAR LITTLE PLAYFELLOW: You must have the courage not to see me again, not to speak of me

again. If you love me just a little, do this for me, for me who will

never forget you, my dear Raoul. My life depends upon it. Your life

depends upon it. YOUR LITTLE CHRISTINE.

Thunders of applause. Carlotta made her entrance.

"I wish I could but know who was he

That addressed me,

If he was noble, or, at least, what his name is ..."

When Margarita had finished singing the ballad of the KING OF THULE,

she was loudly cheered and again when she came to the end of the jewel

song: "Ah, the joy of past compare

These jewels bright to wear! ..."

Thenceforth, certain of herself, certain of her friends in the house,

certain of her voice and her success, fearing nothing, Carlotta flung

herself into her part without restraint of modesty ... She was no

longer Margarita, she was Carmen. She was applauded all the more; and

her debut with Faust seemed about to bring her a new success, when

suddenly ... a terrible thing happened.

Faust had knelt on one knee: "Let me gaze on the form below me,

While from yonder ether blue

Look how the star of eve, bright and tender,

lingers o'er me,

To love thy beauty too!"

And Margarita replied: "Oh, how strange!

Like a spell does the evening bind me!

And a deep languid charm

I feel without alarm

With its melody enwind me

And all my heart subdue."

At that moment, at that identical moment, the terrible thing

happened... Carlotta croaked like a toad: "Co-ack!"

There was consternation on Carlotta's face and consternation on the

faces of all the audience. The two managers in their box could not

suppress an exclamation of horror. Every one felt that the thing was

not natural, that there was witchcraft behind it. That toad smelt of

brimstone. Poor, wretched, despairing, crushed Carlotta!

The uproar in the house was indescribable. If the thing had happened

to any one but Carlotta, she would have been hooted. But everybody

knew how perfect an instrument her voice was; and there was no display

of anger, but only of horror and dismay, the sort of dismay which men

would have felt if they had witnessed the catastrophe that broke the

arms of the Venus de Milo... And even then they would have seen ...

and understood ...




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