tragedy afterwards. Céline was ready—all that she waited for was a subject.
A comedy-subject was proposed. An unsuccessful lover had surreptitiously obtained access to his mistress's chamber in a woman's disguise.
It was enough. Céline, in the character of the lady, commenced her improvisation. She detected the imposture, and proceeded, in withering terms, to ridicule the contemptible device to which her suitor had resorted.
At this point, one of the guests—a Monsieur L'Estrange—exclaimed:
"Hush! I pray your pardon for this interruption; but I am certain I heard a sound of swords clashing in the garden."
"It is nothing, sir," said Céline. "My servants are amusing themselves. We are enjoying ourselves here—let them have their enjoyment also. It is nothing, I assure you."
She proceeded with the improvisation. She pointed out to her disguised lover how well a woman's garb befitted such a woman's soul as his, and recommended him to adhere to a costume which he carried with such address. Her manner was buoyant and defiant—perhaps a little too much so; still everyone was delighted with the exhibition. At a critical point in the verse, L'Estrange, who had been listening at the garden-door, again interrupted her:
"Madame, I am bound to interrupt you again. The clashing of swords is distinctly audible. I am certain you cannot be aware of what is going on. You must permit me to examine the garden."
