She goes straight to Pandolphe and shows
him a written promise of marriage, over Matamore's signature, cleverly
counterfeited; whereupon the poor wretch, convicted of such abominable
and complicated perfidy, is assailed with a new shower of blows and
curses, and finally condemned, by the unanimous vote of all present, to
marry old Mme. Leonarde--who has made herself as hideous as possible--as
a fitting punishment for all his deviltries, rodomontades, and
cowardice. Pandolphe, thoroughly disgusted with Matamore at last, makes
no further objections to Leander's suit, and the curtain falls as he
gives his consent to the marriage of the two young lovers.
This bouffonnade, being played with great spirit, was enthusiastically
applauded. The gentlemen were charmed with the mischievous, coquettish
soubrette, who was fairly radiant with beauty that evening; the ladies
were greatly pleased with Isabelle's refinement and modesty; whilst
Matamore received the well merited encomiums of all. It would have been
impossible to find, even in the great Parisian theatres, an actor better
fitted for the part he had played so admirably. Leander was much
admired by all the younger ladies, but the gentlemen agreed, without a
dissenting voice, that he was a horridly conceited coxcomb.
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