In the matter of ballads, as in that of hats, Tartarin played a leading role.  His superiority over his fellow citizens arose from the fact that he did not have a song of his own, and so he could take part in all of them, only it was extremely difficult to get him to sing at all.

Returning early from some drawing-room success, our hero preferred to immerse himself in his books on hunting or spend the evening at the club rather than join in a sing-song round a Nimes piano, between two Tarascon candles.  He felt that musical evenings were a little beneath him.

Sometimes, however, when there was music at Bezuquet the chemists, he would drop in as if by chance, and after much persuasion he would consent to take part in the great duet from “Robert le Diable” with madame Bezuquet the elder.

Anyone who has not heard this has heard nothing.  For my part, if I live to be a hundred, I shall always recall the great Tartarin approaching the piano with solemn steps, leaning his elbow upon it, making his grimace and in the greenish light reflected from the chemist’s jars, trying to give his homely face the savage and satanic expression of Robert le Diable.

As soon as he had taken up his position, a quiver of expectation ran through the gathering.  One felt that something great was about to happen.

After a moment of silence, madame Bezuquet the elder, accompanying herself on the piano, began: 

“Robert, thou whom I adore

And in whom I trust,

You see my fear (twice)

Have mercy on yourself

And mercy on me.”

She added, sotto voce, “Its you now Tartarin.”

Then Tartarin, with arm extended, clenched fist and quivering nostrils, said three times in a formidable voice which rolled like a clap of thunder in the entrails of the piano “Non!  Non!  Non!” Which as a good southerner he pronounced “Nan.  Nan.  Nan” Upon which madame Bezuquet repeated “Mercy on yourself and on me” “Nan!  Nan!  Nan!” Bellowed Tartarin even more loudly... and the matter ended there....  It was not very long, but it was so well presented, so well acted, so diabolic that a frisson ran round the pharmacy and he was made to repeat his “Nan.  Nan.  Nan.” four or five times.

Afterwards Tartarin wiped his forehead, smiled at the ladies, winked at the men and went off triumphantly to the club, where, with a casual air, he would say, “I’ve just come from the Bezuquets.  They had me singing in the duet from Robert le Diable.”  What is more he believed it.

Chapter 3.

It was to the possession of these various talents that Tartarin owed his high standing in the town.  There were, however, other ways in which he had made his mark on society.

In Tarascon the army supported Tartarin.  The gallant Commandant Bravida (Quartermaster.  Ret) said of him “He’s a stout fellow,” and one may suppose that having kitted out so many stout fellows in his time, he knew what he was talking about.