“It was a very brilliant assembly, as this début had attracted all theater lovers. The fact is, besides the special merit of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt, a whole crowd of true or false stories had been circulated about her personally, and all this had excited the curiosity of the Parisian public. Her appearance was a disappointment. She had, by her costume, exaggerated in a most ostentatious way a slenderness which is elegant under the veils and ample drapery of the Grecian and Roman heroines, but which is objectionable in modern dress. Then, too, either powder does not suit her, or stage fright had made her terribly pale. The effect of this long, white face emerging from a long, black sheath was certainly unpleasant” (I looked like an ant), “particularly as the eyes had lost their brilliancy, and all that relieved the face were the sparkling white teeth. She went through the first three acts with a convulsive tremor, and we recognized the Sarah of ‘Ruy Blas’ only by two couplets which she gave in her enchanting voice with the most wonderful grace; but in all the more powerful passages she was a failure. I doubt whether Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt will ever, with her delicious voice, be able to render those deep, thrilling notes, expressive of paroxysms of violent passion, which are capable of carrying away an audience. If only nature had endowed her with this gift, she would be a perfect _artiste_, and there are none such on the stage. Roused by the coldness of her public, Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt was entirely herself in the fifth act. This was certainly our Sarah once more, the Sarah of ‘Ruy Blas,’ whom we had admired so much at the Odéon,” etc., etc.