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Updated: May 26, 2025
In the evening I went to the Lyceum Theatre, saw Henry Irving and Ellen Terry in Sardou's "Robespierre," and for the first time in my life was woefully disappointed in them. The play is wretchedly conceived, and it amazes me that Sardou, who wrote "Thermidor," which is as admirable as "Robespierre" is miserable could ever have attached his name to such a piece.
Life, in short seems tolerable to me only by legerdemain. Or else one must give oneself up to disordered pleasure ... and even then! Well, I have finished with le Sexe faible, which will be played, at least so Carvalho promises, in January, if Sardou's l'Oncle Sam is permitted by the censorship; if otherwise, it will be in November.
Yet I must confess, as I passed the abattoirs of La Villette, whence blue-smocked butcher-boys were hauling loads of dirty sheepskins, I could not but compare myself to the honest man mentioned in one of Sardou's comedies: "The good soul escaped out of a novel of Paul de Kock's, lost in the throng on the Boulevard Malesherbes, and asking the way to the woods of Romainville." Romainville!
If he sets forth to prove anything at all, he must prove that thing and not some totally different thing. He must beware of the red-herring across the trail. For a clear example of defective logic, I turn to a French play Sardou's Spiritisme.
It was, he said, during the last act of Sardou's "Cleopatra" that the idea had suddenly come to him to change the plan of search from the analytical to the synthetical. "You see," he continued, "I had from the first been trying to find the assassin without knowing the exact way in which the crime was committed.
In one of M. Sardou's pieces, the manuscript of which I once had occasion to study, the chairs stand at the beginning of the first act in very different positions from those in which they are required to be at the end of the act; and the manuscript contained full directions indicating just when and exactly how one or another of the characters should seem accidentally to push a chair into the needed position.
We find her in different countries and in different times; but she always lures and fascinates a man, storms against insuperable circumstance, coos and caws, and in the outcome dies. One of Sardou's latest efforts, La Sorcière, presents the dry bones of the formula without the flesh and blood of life.
A day in London. Henry Irving in Sardou's "Robespierre"; good and evil of the piece; its unhistorical features. Return to The Hague. The American plan of "Special Mediation" and "Seconding Powers" favorably received by the Conference. Characteristics of the amalgamated plan for the Arbitration Tribunal; its results. Visit from Count Munster; interesting stories of his life as Ambassador at St.
M. Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac is not merely Cyrano, but also M. Constant Coquelin; M. Sardou's La Tosca is not merely La Tosca, but also Mme. Sarah Bernhardt; Molière's Célimène is not merely Célimène, but also Mlle. Molière; Shakespeare's Hamlet is not merely Hamlet, but also Richard Burbage.
A jeweler was accordingly summoned, who, by the application of acids and a file, soon proved conclusively to the authorities that the precious trouvaille was a worthless piece of imitation. Sardou's heroine in his Maison Neuve, who sells her small real diamonds in order to appear at a ball ablaze with paste, is a true character of the epoch, and was evidently sketched from real life.
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