t is! A fine
thing really! You spy on me when I go out," and many other jests of the
same kind; for on that day the Emperor was in such fine spirits that I
concluded he had been much pleased with his visit.

Whenever at this time the Emperor experienced any unusual anxiety, I
noticed that in order to dispel it he took pleasure in exhibiting himself
in public more frequently, perhaps, than during his other sojourns in
Paris, but always without any ostentation. He went frequently to the
theater; and, thanks to the obliging kindness of Count de Remusat, I
myself frequently attended these assemblies, which at that time always
had the appearance of a fete. Assuredly, when on the occasion of the
first representation of the ballet of Nina, their Majesties entered their
box, it would have been difficult to imagine that the Emperor had already
enemies among his subjects. It is true that the mothers and widows in
mourning were not there; but I can affirm that I have never seen more
perfect enthusiasm. The Emperor enjoyed this from the depths of his
heart, even more, perhaps, than after his victories. The conviction that
he was beloved by the French people impressed him deeply, and in the
evening he condescended to speak to me of it--shall I dare to say like a
child puffed up with pride at the reward he has just received? Then in
the perfect freedom of privacy he said repeatedly, "My wife! my good
Louise! Truly, she should be well satisfied." The truth is, that the
desire to see the Emperor at the theater was so great in Paris, that as
he always took his place in the box at the side, opening on the
proscenium, each time that he made his appearance there the boxes
situated on the opposite side of the hall were rented at incredible
figures, and even the uppermost tiers were preferred to those from which
they could not see him easily. No one who lived in Paris at that time
can fail to recognize the correctness of this statement.

Some time after the first representation of the ballet of Nina, the
Emperor again attended the theater, and I was also present. As formerly,
the Emperor accompanied her Majesty; and I could not keep back the
thought, as the play proceeded, that the Emperor had some memories
sufficient to distract his attention from the exquisite music. It was at
the Italian theater then occupying the Odeon. The Cleopatra of Nazzolini
was played; and the representation was among the number of those called
extraordinary, sinc