n,
Sganarelle, and Scapin were as real to him as Orestes and Oedipus, as
Augustus and Mohammed. He would give not only their biographies, but
describe their appearance, their manners, their gait, and even their
complexion. The first time I heard him do so, I made sure that he was
trying to mystify Giovanni; but Rachel, who was present, soon undeceived
me. And the Italian would sit listening reverently, then start up, and
exclaim, "Ze sais ce qu'il vous faut, Monsu Regnier, ze vais faire oune
parruque a etonner Moliere lui-meme." And he kept his word, because he
considered that the wig contributed as much to, or detracted from, the
success of an actor as his diction, and more than his clothes. When
Delaunay became a societaire his first part was that of the lover in M.
Viennet's "Migraine." "Voila Monsu Delaunay, oune veritable parruque di
societaire. Zouez a present, vous etes sour de votre affaire."

One day Beauvallet found him standing before the window of Brandus, the
music-publisher in the Rue de Richelieu. He was contemplating the
portrait of Rossini, and he looked sad.

"What are you standing there for, Giovanni?" asked Beauvallet.

"Ah, Monsu Bouvallet, I am looking at the portrait of Maestro Giovanni
Rossini, and when I think that his name is Giovanni like mine, when I
see that abominable wig which looks like a grass-plot after a month of
drought, I feel ashamed and sad. But I will go and see him, and make him
a wig for love or money that will take twenty years off his age." He
went, but Rossini would not hear of it, or rather Madame Rossini put a
spoke in his wheel. Giovanni never mentioned his name again. It was
Ligier who brought Giovanni to Paris, and for a quarter of a century he
worked unremittingly for the glory of the Comedie-Francaise, and when
one of the great critics happened to speak favourably of the "make-up"
of an actor, as Paul de St. Victor did when Regnier "created Noel,"
Giovanni used to leave his card at his house. It was Giovanni who made
the wigs for M. Ancessy, the musical director at the Odeon, who, under
the management of M. Edouard Thierry, occupied the same position at the
Comedie-Francaise. M. Ancessy was not only a good chef d'orchestre, but
a composer of talent; but he had one great weakness--he was as bald as
a billiard-ball and wished to pass for an Absalom. Giovanni helped him
to carry out the deception by making three artistic wigs. The first was
of very short hair, and was w