The play was produced on January 26, 1872. That night, in Bernhardt’s own words, “rent asunder the thin veil which still made my future hazy, and I felt that I was destined for celebrity. Until that day I had remained the students’ little Fairy. I became then the elect of the Public.” Hugo himself, on his knee, kissed her hands and thanked her. M. Sarcey, who from the beginning was Bernhardt’s staunchest admirer among the critics, praised her warmly: “No rôle was ever better adapted to Mlle. Bernhardt’s talents. She possesses the gift of resigned and patient dignity. Her diction is so wonderfully clear and distinct that not a syllable is missed.” The _Comédie Française_ now made overtures for her return to its fold. Bernhardt at once accepted, which was wretchedly unfair to the _Odéon_, for she owed much to Duquesnel. When in 1866 he persuaded Chilly to take her on, she was comparatively unknown; now, in 1872, she was rapidly becoming the talk of Paris. Her contract with the _Odéon_ had yet a year to run, but Sarah demanded, as the condition of her remaining, an advance in the stipulated salary.[20] Chilly indignantly refused; so Mlle. Bernhardt hurried away to the _Comédie_ and forthwith signed her new contract. The _Odéon_ brought an action against her and she had to pay a forfeit of six thousand francs. This sudden change of scene is but one instance of the directness, not to say unscrupulousness, of Bernhardt’s methods in advancing herself. “_Quand-même_” it was to be, at any cost. If she had merely followed her inclinations, however, she would probably have remained at the _Odéon_, for she has often protested the attraction for her of the scene of her first triumphs. The _Comédie_, on the other hand, had never this appeal to her. As is easily understood, her imperiousness and willfulness made her feel less at home at the more staid _Comédie_. The other members of her company, with a few exceptions, were unfriendly and jealous. Moreover she made almost a failure in her début (in _Mlle. de Belle-Isle_), but this was due not to stage-fright, as Sarcey guessed, but to her anxiety on seeing her mother, suddenly taken ill, leave the theatre. Sarcey loyally championed her early efforts, though he was often keenly critical also: “I fear,” he wrote (apropos of _Dalila_), “that the management has made a mistake in already giving Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt leading parts. I do not know whether she will ever be able to fill them, but she certainly cannot do so at present. She is wanting in power and breadth of conception. She impersonates soft and gentle characters admirably, but her failings become manifest when the whole burden of the piece rests on her fair shoulders.” Other critics, particularly Paul de Saint-Victor, were consistently hostile. She had in the company envious rivals who inspired attacks on her, and she clashed frequently with M. Perrin, the director of the theatre. With that indomitable persistence that is her