CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN. 31 i with a flash of horrible enlightenment exclaims, ' Fazio, thou hast seen Aldobella ! ' Miss Cushman's career was certain. The variety which she threw into the dialogue with her husband — from jealousy dropping back into ten- derness, from hate passing to love, while she gave an equal intensity to each successive passion, as if her whole soul were for the moment absorbed in that only — was astonishing, and yet she always seemed to feel as if she had not done enough. Her utterance was more and more earnest, more and more rapid, as if she hoped the very force of the words would give her an impetus. The crowning effort was the supplication to Aldobella, when the wife, falling on her knees, makes the greatest sacrifice of her pride to save the man she has destroyed. Nothing could exceed the determination with which, lifting her clasped hands, she urged her suit — making offer after offer to her proud rival, as if she could not give too much and feared to reflect on the value of her conces- sions — till at last, repelled by the cold marchioness and exhausted by her own passion, she sank huddled into a heap at her feet." This was the climax of the play, and Miss Cushman was in reality so overcome by the tremendous force of her own acting, as well as by the agitation consequent upon the occasion, that it was long before she could muster sufficient strength to rise ; and the thunderous applause which burst from all parts of the house was even more welcome as granting her a breathing space than as an evidence of satisfaction. When at last she slowly rose to her feet, the scene was one which she could never afterward recall without experiencing a thrill of the old triumph. The audience were all standing, some mounted upon their seats ; many were sobbing ; more were cheering, and the gentlemen were waving their hats and the ladies their handkerchiefs.
