the audience as well, which takes our measure when we act the part of hero. I felt myself as much an object of hatred to the men as of admiration to the women when I thus played the part of victorious lover, because it was no indifferent actress, taught to listlessly drone those immortal verses, that I was defending, but a true Greek maiden, a pearl of grace, purity and love, worthy, indeed, to be rescued by all human efforts from the hands of the jealous gods. Not Iphigenia alone, she was Junia, Berenice, all the heroines rendered illustrious by the fair blue eyes of Mlle. de Champmeslé, or the charming graces of the noble maidens of Saint Cyr. Poor Aurélie! My comrade and my sister, wilt thou never regret those hours of triumph and rapture? Didst thou not love me for an instant, cold star, when I fought and wept and suffered for thee? The audience questioned nightly: "Who, pray, is this actress, so far beyond all that we have ever applauded? Are we not mistaken? Is she really as young, as dazzling, and as pure as she seems?" The young women envied, criticised or admired sadly. As for me, I needed to see her constantly, so as not to feel overpowered by her beauty and to be able to meet her eyes whenever the exigencies of the plot demanded.... This is why Achilles was my triumph, although I was often embarrassed in other parts. What a pity that I could not change the situations to suit me, and sacrifice even the thoughts of genius to my love and respect! The character of a timid and captive lover like Britannicus or Bajazet, did not please me. The purple of the young Caesar attracted me more; but what a misfortune to declaim in conclusion only cold and perfidious speeches! What! Was this young Nero, the idol of Rome, the handsome athlete, the dancer, the poet whose only wish was to please the populace? Is this what history and the conceptions of our poets have left of him? Ah! give me his fury to interpret; his power I would fear to accept. Nero! I have comprehended thee, not alas! according to Racine, but according to my own heart, torn with agony whenever I have ventured to impersonate thee! Yes, thou wast a god, thou who wouldst have burned Rome. Thou wast right, perhaps, since Rome had insulted thee!...