said Mademoiselle Mars to Victor Hugo at a
rehearsal of "Hernani"; "can I not change it?"

"I wrote it so and it must stand," was the answer.

Mademoiselle Mars used another expression instead of the author's, and he
promptly asked her to resign her part. She wept, and upon agreeing to
adhere to the text was reinstated in favor.

Rehearsal after rehearsal occurred, and the words were repeated as
written. The night of the performance came. Superb was the stage-setting,
splendid the audience. The play went forward amid loud applause. The
scene was reached where came the objectionable word. Did Mademoiselle
Mars use it? Of course not; she used the word she chose--she was a woman.
Fifty-three times she played the part, and not once did she use the
author's pet phrase; and he was wise enough not to note the fact. The
moral of this is that not even a strong man can cope with a small woman
who weeps at the right time.

The censorship forbade the placing of "Marion Delorme" on the stage until
a certain historical episode in it had been changed. Would the author be
so kind as to change it? Not he.

"Then it shall not be played," said M. de Martignac.

The author hastened to interview the minister in person. He got a North
Pole reception. In fact, M. de Martignac said that it was his busy day,
and that playwriting was foolish business anyway; but if a man were bound
to write, he should write to amuse, not to instruct. And young Hugo was
bowed out.

When he found himself well outside the door he was furious. He would see
the King himself. And he did see the King. His Majesty was gracious and
very patient. He listened to the young author's plea, talked book-lore,
recited poetry, showed that he knew Hugo's verses, asked after the
author's wife, then the baby, and--said that the play could not go on.
Hugo turned to go. Charles the Tenth called him back, and said that he
was glad the author had called--in fact, he was about to send for him.
His pension thereafter should be six thousand francs a year.

Victor Hugo declined to receive it. Of course, the papers were full of
the subject. All cafedom took sides: Paris had a topic for gesticulation,
and Paris improved the opportunity.

Conservatism having stopped this play, there was only one thing to do:
write another; for a play of Victor Hugo's must be put upon the stage.
All his friends said so; his honor was at stake.

In three weeks another play was ready. The censors read