nt of him to serve as a
screen. The shirt is now on his back, and the toilet commences.

A valet de chambre supports a mirror before the king, while two
others on the two sides light it up, if occasion requires with
flambeaux. Valets of the wardrobe fetch the rest of the attire; the
grand master of the wardrobe puts the vest on and the doublet,
attaches the blue ribbon, and clasps his sword around him; then a
valet assigned to the cravats brings several of these in a basket,
while the master of the wardrobe arranges around the king's neck that
which the king selects. After this a valet assigned to the
handkerchiefs brings three of these on a silver salver; while the
grand master of the wardrobe offers the salver to the king, who
chooses one. Finally the master of the wardrobe hands to the king his
hat, his gloves, and his cane. The king then steps to the side of the
bed, kneels on a cushion, and says his prayers; while an almoner in a
low voice recites the orison _Quaesumus, deus omnipotens_. This done,
the king announces the order of the day, and passes with the leading
persons of his court into his cabinet, where he sometimes gives
audience. Meanwhile the rest of the company await him in the gallery,
in order to accompany him to mass when he comes out.

Such is the _lever_, a piece in five acts. Nothing could be contrived
better calculated to fill up the void of an aristocratic life: a
hundred or thereabouts of notable seigniors dispose of a couple of
hours in coming, in waiting, in entering, in defiling, in taking
positions, in standing on their feet, in maintaining an air of respect
and of ease suitable to a superior class of walking gentlemen, while
those best qualified are about to do the same thing over in the
queen's apartment. The king, however, to offset this, suffers the
same torture and the same inaction as he imposes. He also is playing a
part: 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 can
not indulge in reverie, meditate, or be absent-minded when before the
footlights: the part must have due attention.

EMILE ZOLA

Born in 1840, died in 1902; his father an Italian, his
mother French; became a packing clerk