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Updated: June 3, 2025
There's many an artist who must " he stopped short and began biting his finger ends. My mind reverted to Bernhardt's film and the question about the moth. "Who must what?" I prodded. "Content himself with this catch phrase?" "Content himself? Damnation, no! Must feel the keener triumph in a piece of work, young man, just because it is perishable." He thumped the table and breathed hard.
She'd ought to make a good actress." Jim echoed him enthusiastically. "Pretty? I'll bet Bernhardt's got nothing on her for looks. She'll have a brownstone hut on Fifth Avenue and an air-tight limousine one of these days, see if she don't." "When do you plan to leave?" faltered the father. Mrs. Knight answered with some satisfaction: "Rehearsals commence in May." Mr. Cambell Pope was a cynic.
Strong feeling and action may be strikingly revealed by the back. Imprecations, denunciations, even prayers, seem to be charged with more force when an actress delivers them with her back turned, or half-turned to the audience. "Bernhardt's back expresses a storm of fury when she imprecates vengeance," said the voice of authority.
Hamlet appeared to scold her mother, but though it could be said that her mother deserved a scolding, was it the part of a good daughter to give it her? One should, of course, say a good son, but long before this it had become impossible to think at all of Mme. Bernhardt's Hamlet as a man, if it ever had been possible.
Hamlet appeared to scold her mother, but though it could be said that her mother deserved a scolding, was it the part of a good daughter to give it her? One should, of course, say a good son, but long before this it had become impossible to think at all of Mme. Bernhardt's Hamlet as a man, if it ever had been possible.
Then she began to think, as she had thought once before, of her husband's sudden return, the return of a husband at the exact hour named in the letter to a lover was by no means an unknown incident in a play of Sarah Bernhardt's, and before she had continued upon this course of thought for many minutes, she had come to the conclusion that she would not be too hard on Herbert Courtland.
In the scene with the queen after the play, most English and American Hamlets have required her to look upon the counterfeit presentment of two brothers in miniatures something the size of tea-plates; but Mme. Bernhardt's preferred full-length, life-size family portraits.
Who could those ladies be? For my part I had scarcely noticed them. Desmoulin opined, however, that they might perchance be French actresses, members possibly of Madame Sarah Bernhardt's company, which was then in London. And again he urged the necessity of immediate departure.
"Bernhardt's the only woman who can spring that and get away with it," she said to her assistant. "Haddon's got herself sized up wrong. I'll gamble her next play will be a failure." And it was. The scenery, props, and costumes of the London production of "Splendour" were slow in coming back. But finally they did come. Josie received them with the calmness that comes of hope deferred.
She looked up at him with her grey eyes, humiliated and lonely. "No thanks!" she said. "Why won't you?" he answered carelessly. The blood was beating up like fire in his veins. Mrs. Radford sat down again, large and impressive and aloof. He left Clara altogether to attend to the mother. "They say Sarah Bernhardt's fifty," he said. "Fifty! She's turned sixty!" came the scornful answer.
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