Between them, they had invented Florine, an actress now in vogue.
Humiliated by this association, which was that of the Siamese twins, Nathan had produced alone, at the Theatre-Francais, a serious drama, which fell with all the honors of war amid salvos of thundering articles.

In his youth he had once before appeared at the great and noble Theatre-Francais in a splendid romantic play of the style of "Pinto,"-- a period when the classic reigned supreme.

The Odeon was so violently agitated for three nights that the play was forbidden by the censor.

This second piece was considered by many a masterpiece, and won him more real reputation than all his productive little pieces done with collaborators,--but only among a class to whom little attention is paid, that of connoisseurs and persons of true taste.
"Make another failure like that," said Emile Blondet, "and you'll be immortal." But instead of continuing in that difficult path, Nathan had fallen, out of sheer necessity, into the powder and patches of eighteenth-century vaudeville, costume plays, and the reproduction, scenically, of successful novels.
Nevertheless, he passed for a great mind which had not said its last word.

He had, moreover, attempted permanent literature, having published three novels, not to speak of several others which he kept in press like fish in a tank.