The hero is sitting on the bed, so you need only show the foot of it,
covered with hangings and drapery. There he is, like Marius among the
ruins of Carthage, his arms folded, his head shaven--Napoleon at
Saint-Helena--what you will! Delilah is on her knees, a good deal like
Canova's Magdalen. When a hussy has ruined her man, she adores him. As
I see it, the Jewess was afraid of Samson in his strength and terrors,
but she must have loved him when she saw him a child again. So Delilah
is bewailing her sin, she would like to give her lover his hair again.
She hardly dares to look at him; but she does look, with a smile, for
she reads forgiveness in Samson's weakness. Such a group as this, and
one of the ferocious Judith, would epitomize woman. Virtue cuts off
your head; vice only cuts off your hair. Take care of your wigs,
gentlemen!"
And she left the artists quite overpowered, to sing her praises in
concert with the critic.
"It is impossible to be more bewitching!" cried Stidmann.
"Oh! she is the most intelligent and desirable woman I have ever met,"
said Claude Vignon. "Such a combination of beauty and cleverness is so
rare."
"And if you who had the honor of being intimate with Camille Maupin
can pronounce such a verdict," replied Stidmann, "what are we to
think?"
"If you will make your Delilah a portrait of Valerie, my dear Count,"
said Crevel, who had risen for a moment from the card-table, and who
had heard what had been said, "I will give you a thousand crowns for
an example--yes, by the Powers! I will shell out to the tune of a
thousand crowns!"
"Shell out! What does that mean?" asked Beauvisage of Claude Vignon.
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