The florid-minded Blondel, pupil of
the equally florid-minded Regnault, hastily sketched in some of the
theatrical frescoes in the "Chapel of the Eucharist," and a
misguided personage named Orsel, splashed out the gaudy decorations
of the "Chapel of the Virgin." The whole edifice glares at the
spectator like a badly-managed limelight, and the tricky,
glittering, tawdry effect blisters one's very soul. But here may be
seen many little select groups out of the hell of Paris,--fresh from
the burning as it were, and smelling of the brimstone,--demons who
enjoy their demonism,--satyrs, concerning whom, one feels that their
polished boots are cleverly designed to cover their animal hoofs,
and that skilful clothiers have arranged their garments so that
their tails are not perceived. But that hoofs and tails are existent
would seem to be a certainty. Here sometimes will sing a celebrated
tenor, bulky and brazen,--pouring out from his bull-throat such
liquid devotional notes as might lift the mind of the listener to
Heaven ifone were not so positive that a moral fiend sang them;--
here sometimes may be seen the stout chanteuse who is the glory of
open-air cafes in the Champs Elysees, kneeling with difficulty on a
velvet hassock and actually saying prayers.
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