did not appeal to her in its original form; and next day negotiations began. The play was duly read to the manager of the Porte St Martin and accepted; but it was something of a blow to the author's vanity when M. Crosnier politely struggled with slumber during the third act, slept comfortably in the fourth, and snored unrestrainedly through the fifth!
At length the night of "Antony's" birth arrived, and the miserable infant, which had now been waiting two years for its delivery, had given its parent much anxiety. For once Dumas had lost that magnificent confidence in himself which aided him so powerfully in his career.
But if the moment for producing the play was inopportune—appearing as it did in the midst of distracting political ferment—the social atmosphere was charged with a feverish electricity, which the story of "Antony" attracted irresistibly to itself. How is a social outlaw like Antony to win for himself the lovely wife of a man in high society—how is he to break through, and persuade her to break through, all the bars to self-abandonment which society has erected? By will-power—by the strength of an unscrupulous individuality! For such a story of power and passion the Parisian of that day was fully ripe.
As the play progressed, the emotion of the
