all his steps and all his gestures have been determined
beforehand; he has been obliged to arrange his physiognomy and his
voice, never to depart from an affable and dignified air, to award
judiciously his glances and his nods, to keep silent or to speak only of
the chase, and to suppress his own thoughts, if he has any. One cannot
indulge in reverie, meditate or be absent-minded when one is before the
footlights; the part must have due attention. Besides, in a drawing
room there is only drawing room conversation, and the master's thoughts,
instead of being directed in a profitable channel, must be scattered
about like the holy water of the court. All hours of his day are passed
in a similar manner, except three or four during the morning, during
which he is at the council or in his private room; it must be
noted, too, that on the days after his hunts, on returning home from
Rambouillet at three o'clock in the morning, he must sleep the few hours
he has left to him. The ambassador Mercy,[2143] nevertheless, a man of
close application, seems to think it sufficient; he, at least, thinks
that "Louis XVI is a man of order, losing no time in useless things;"
his predecessor, indeed, worked much less, scarcely an hour a day.
Three-quarters of his time is thus given up to show. The same retinue
surrounds him when he puts on his boots, when he takes them off; when
he changes his clothes to mount his horse, when he returns home to dress
for the evening, and when he goes to his room at night to retire. "Every
evening for six years, says a page,[2144] either myself or one of my
comrades has seen Louis XVI get into bed in public," with the ceremonial
just described. "It was not omitted ten times to my knowledge, and
then accidentally or through indisposition." The attendance is yet more
numerous when he dines and takes supper; for, besides men there are
women present, duchesses seated on the folding-chairs, also others
standing around the table. It is needless to state that in the evening
when he plays, or gives a ball, or a concert, the crowd rushes in and
overflows. When he hunts, besides the ladies on horses and in
vehicles, besides officers of the hunt, of the guards, the equerry, the
cloak-bearer, gun-bearer, surgeon, bone-setter, lunch-bearer and I
know not how many others, all the gentlemen who accompany him are
his permanent guests. And do not imagine that this suite is a small
one;[2145] the day M. de Chateaubriand is prese