I could give you many examples.

I myself, in _La Vivandiere d'Austerlitz_, staggered the house by my gaiety of tone, when I had just been informed that my Doulce, so great an artist and so good a husband, had had an epileptic fit in the orchestra at the Odeon, just as he was picking up his cornet." "Why do they insist on my being nothing but an _ingenue_ ?" inquired Nanteuil, who wanted to play the woman in love, the brilliant coquette, and every part a woman could play.
"That is quite natural," persisted Madame Doulce.

"Comedy is an imitative art; and you imitate an art all the better for not feeling it yourself." "Do not delude yourself, my child," said the doctor to Felicie.

"Once an _ingenue_, always an _ingenue_.

You are born an Angelique or a Dorine, a Celimene or a Madame Pernelle.