What a beautiful variety of magnificent prospects did nature present to his view! Rocks, whose summits supported the skies, whose flanks pour forth thousands of cas cades, which fall roaring into impenetrable abysses; the river, of which they form the origin, which at first, as a simple rivulet glides gently across the meadows, swollen within a short interval by immense tributes, would lay waste distant lands, if the work of man opposed not its ravages; those bridges whose proud lofty arches command its majestic waves; the golden harvests, the verdant vines, and the antique forests. But whatever enraptures the cheerful traveller, appears insignificant, far from exciting admiration, in the agitated mind of Nadir. The outrages he has endured from his enemies engross his whole attention; he recalls to his mind a thousand circumstances that ought at least to have prevented their speedy triumph. Where shall he go to expose his disgrace? Shall he return to Elma? No. Stupid vanity, so often the reverse of noble pride, checks his progress. He is determined not to meet his friend again till he can show himself crowned with glory. But what is he to do until such time as he has gained that point? It was not in solitude that he could find the means of filling up the chasm that he had opened to himself: once more he must seek the company of those men whom he had loaded with imprecations, and he accordingly returned to the metropolis. At any rate, he thought it advisable to change his name, and to take other lodgings. Superfluous precaution! Who could have known him again? He was no longer the man in fashion. Exasperated at the inattention he was treated with, he thought it announced the downfal of the empire, and gave himself up to that coarse, blunt misanthropy, which, among certain civilized nations, is decorated with the high appellation of philosophy.
One day that he saw a crowd at the door of the national theatre, he felt inclined to see the performance of a new drama, composed by one of his most celebrated rivals. The house had recently been repaired. One hundred tubes, suspended by a silk and gold tissue, spread a soft and equal light with a magnificence hitherto unknown. In an extensive amphitheatre were placed the judges (seldom impartial) of dramatic merit. The simply ornamented boxes caused the beauteous fair, so desirous of being admired, to shine with additional lustre. In spite of the inclemency of the weather, these inconsiderate females exposed the contour of their ivory arms, and indiscreetly bared their bosoms; the breath of Zephyrus seemed to be the only veil they wished should conceal their charms. The eyes of the enraptured spectators wandered over the enchanting groups, at a loss, as it were, which to rest upon. Numbers of those fair, with a prism in their hand, compelled to cast down their looks, such youths as had not yet been taught not to blush; Nadir alone was noticed by none of them. Jealousy and spite gnaw his vitals to such a degree, that he loses sight of his being an author. The applause that is lavished on his rival is nothing in his estimation; but to be scorned and neglected by the unjust fair sex is unbearable. He strives to get out, paces the lobby, and mutters some dire complaints. But he may be revenged; he opens his little book, and pronounces the words graces and beauty, resumes his seat in front, and negligently reclines on the balustrade. He catches the eye of a lady, who immediately cries out, “what an agreeable surprise!” another exclaims in a similar manner, and all the belles instantly point their prisms towards Nadir; they whisper to each other, and rise from their seats to have a full view of him. The tragedy being no longer paid attention to by the female part of the audience, creates disapprobation; the male performers are no longer listened to, and the actresses, forgetful of their majesty, like other weak mortals, stop, and remain silent to stare, in admiration, at our hero. In the mean time the author rushed on the stage, harangues the performers, addresses the public, weeps, and tears off his hair by handfulls; it is all in vain, the piece is damned—a due reward of his animosity against Nadir!
By this time a lady, no longer in the bloom of youth, but whose diamonds were of the finest water, and in great profusion, had drawn near the new Adonis, and requested he would have the goodness to protect her home. Nadir, stretching out his hand, accompansed her to her carriage, at sight of which the whole swarm of her rivals shuddered with rage and malice.
(To be continued.)
