The public, unaware of what was happening, wanted me to appear again and bow. I, too, wanted to return and thank the public for its attention, its kindliness, and its emotion. I went back, and the following is what John Murray said in the _Gaulois_ of June 5, 1879: “When recalled with loud cries, Mlle. Bernhardt appeared, exhausted by her efforts and supported by Mounet-Sully; she received an ovation which I think is unique in the annals of the theater in England.” The following morning the _Daily Telegraph_ terminated its admirable criticism with these lines: “Clearly Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt exerted every nerve and fiber and her passion grew with the excitement of the spectators, for when after a recall that could not be resisted the curtain drew up, Mr. Mounet-Sully was seen supporting the exhausted figure of the actress, who had won her triumph only after tremendous physical exertion, and triumph it was, however short and sudden.” The _Standard_ finished its article with these words: “The subdued passion, repressed for a time, until at length it burst its bonds, and the despairing, heartbroken woman is revealed to _Hippolyte_, was shown with so vivid a reality that a scene of enthusiasm such as is rarely witnessed in a theater followed the fall of the curtain. Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt, in the few minutes she was upon the stage (and coming on it must be remembered to plunge into the middle of a stirring tragedy) yet contrived to make an impression which will not soon be effaced from those who were present.” The _Morning Post_ said: “Very brief are the words spoken before _Phèdre_ rushes into the room to commence tremblingly and nervously, with struggles which rend and tear and convulse the system, the secret of her shameful love. As her passion mastered what remained of modesty or reserve in her nature, the woman sprang forward and recoiled again, with the movements of a panther, striving, as it seemed, to tear from her bosom the heart which stifled her with its unholy longings, until in the end, when, terrified at the horror her breathings have provoked in _Hippolyte_, she strove to pull his sword from its sheath and plunge it in her own breast, she fell back in complete and absolute collapse. This exhibition, marvelous in beauty of pose, in febrile force, in intensity, and in purity of delivery, is the more remarkable as the passion had to be reached, so to speak, at a bound, no performance of the first act having roused the actress to the requisite heat. It proved Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt worthy of her reputation, and shows what may be expected from her by the public which has eagerly expected her coming.” This London first night was definitive for my future. CHAPTER XXII MY STAY IN ENGLAND