triumph; and no exception on the ground of actual inaccuracy could therefore be taken to Grimshaw’s constant remark, “that he was pulling in the money like one o’clock.” He was now ordering “glasses round” with more than usual persistency; ceaseless in the liberal inquiry as to whether any gentleman would take anything to drink; and the company were this time regaled with a champagne supper, which did not make any of them very seriously ill.
The scene of the new grand romantic ballet was of course laid on the banks of the Danube. Ballets invariably take place on the banks of the Danube. The scenery was in Blister’s best style. The spectators never could make up their minds whether they admired most “The Village of Ochsenkopf in Transylvania” (Blister); or “The Pass of the Rothen-Thurm or Red Tower, with distant view of the Convent of Kosia, in Wallachia” (Blister and Boker),—I think that both these scenes, differently set, had done duty under other names in Tootle’s opera of “Estafetta, or the Star of Styria,” which only ran six nights during a previous unfortunate season),—or the grand scene of “The Summit of Mount Pretroska by Moonlight, amid the Peaks of the Carpathian Mountains” (Blister). But perhaps this last had the greater number of admirers; few could resist the beautiful effect of the lime light, the moon rising behind the peaks, with floating clouds to pass over and obscure it occasionally. Blister had quite a reputation for moonlights: and was often called on the stage to receive the congratulations of the house in regard to this scene. I need not say that Grimshaw took the opportunity of leading on his artist and bowing to him, and shaking him by the hand amidst the loudest applause. “All right,” said Grimshaw, as he came off grinning. “We shall secure first-rate press notices by this. They’ll say we were both called on. The bally’s a hit, and no mistake!”
Does the reader wish to know what the new grand romantic ballet of “L’Aérolithe” was about?
Oscar (M. Anatole) in blue velvet trunks, striped silk stockings, white shirt sleeves, and a hat with a scarlet ribbon, being a peasant of the village of Ochsenkopf, is betrothed to Bianca (Mademoiselle Blondette) the daughter of Claude (M. Renaud) a farmer, and Claudine (Mademoiselle Schmidt) his wife. The wedding festivities are in course of celebration. Many peasant dances are executed (the blind fiddler of the village is a little part admirably performed by that veteran pantomimist Mr. W. H. Sims). There is a Pas Grotesque by Michael, the village idiot (M. Pierre); a Pas de Quatre Hongroise by Mesdames Celine, Julie, Brown and Estelle. Pas Cracovienne by Mademoiselle Blondette (encored); Galop Styrien by the entire corps de ballet. Then a procession of monks (in dark glazed calico) who pass through the village carrying enormous crosses, and bless the peasants (to slow music), kneeling reverentially. Sunset effect—very imposing. The wedding fêtes are resumed. Night comes on. The villagers prepare to depart to their homes after a grand Mazourka of Transylvania with coloured lanterns. The storm! (Signor Strepito’s music here becomes of a violently descriptive character). Fall of a thunderbolt! General consternation! Mystic appearance of Fiametta, la Fille du Firmament (Mademoiselle Stephanie Boisfleury, première danseuse of the principal theatres of Europe, her tenth appearance in England); Pas d’Orage, Mademoiselle Boisfleury; Pas d’Electricité, Mademoiselle Boisfleury. Oscar is bereft of reason! Pas Insensé, M. Anatole. He deserts his bride, his parents, his village, to follow Fiametta. The next is a “carpenter’s” scene, the cottage of Bianca. Despair of Bianca at the departure of Oscar. Some comic business for Michael, the idiot, and the blind fiddler. Anger of Claude and Claudine. They determine that Bianca shall now wed the rich farmer Obol (M. Raphael.) Scene changes to the Pass of the Rothen-Thurm. Grand pas de Désir, Mademoiselle Boisfleury and M. Anatole. Grand Valse, La Tentation; Pas d’Amour, Mademoiselle Boisfleury and M. Anatole. Fiametta is an aërolite, her mother is the firmament, her father is the earth, on the wings of the storm she can descend from her home in the skies, and assume a mortal appearance. She may lure others to love, but she may never love herself, or she will sink deep into the earth—buried for ever. Fiametta explains her situation in pantomime; to those who understand the ballet language her actions are extremely intelligible. Oscar is in great grief. Pas de Désespoir, of course. Fiametta begins to feel her heart tremble. Pas d’Alarme. She flies from Oscar. He pursues. She disappears down a trap (technically called a vampire.) There are other episodes in the entertainment upon which it is not necessary to dwell. Finally, Fiametta witnesses the devotion of Bianca, who, deserted by Oscar, still loves him. She is struck by the fact that this love is greater than her love. She restores Oscar to Bianca. Then she discovers that she has loved, that she still loves, a mortal! Yet she may escape her dreadful doom if she will consent to lure Oscar to ruin! But she cannot: she sacrifices herself so that Oscar may be happy! She descends in the moonlight (after an exquisite Pas) from the skies to “The summit of Mount Pretroska, amid the peaks of the Carpathian Mountains.” She swings in the air. She hides her face in her hands to shut out the sight of the bliss of Oscar and Bianca in the foreground, and disappears at the back into the mountain, which splits in sunder conveniently, amidst the loud applause of the whole theatre.
Such is the ballet of “L’Aérolithe.” If the reader should be of opinion that it very much resembles some other ballet that he has seen, why I must admit such to be the case; but the truth is, that I never yet saw a ballet that did not very much resemble many other ballets.
Madame Boisfleury was one of those dancers who win their public simply, as it seems, by the steady determination to win them, by mere force of will. There was a sort of grand defiance about the way in which she bounded upon the stage (after pushing a path for herself through the coryphées, certainly rather roughly) her eyes glittering from beneath her thick black brows, her nostrils distended, her red lips compressed, and then after a few superb leaps and whirlings, stood suddenly still upon the points of her toes in the centre of
