THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
fully expressive—they made everything intelligible and clear; at once you understood it all and were in accord with her. When those hands stretched themselves out to the friend or the lover, accompanied by one of those smiles which were rare in Rachel's acting, but which, whenever they appeared, would irradiate all surroundings like friendly sunbeams breaking through a clouded sky—a tremor of happiness ran all over the house. When she lifted up her noble head with the majestic pride of authority, as if born to rule the world, everyone felt like bowing before her. Who would have dared to disobey when, the power of empire on her front, she raised her hand in a gesture of command? And who could have stood up against the stony glare of contempt in her eye and the haughty toss of her chin, and the disdainful wave of her arm, which seemed to sweep the wretch before her into utter nothingness?
It was in the portrayal of the evil passions and the fiercest emotions that her powers rose to the most tremendous effects. Nothing more terrible can be conceived than was her aspect in her great climaxes. Clouds of sinister darkness gathered upon her brow; her eyes, naturally deep-set, began to protrude and to flash and scintillate with a truly hellish fire. Her nostrils fluttered in wild agitation as if breathing flame. Her body shot up to unnatural height. Her face transformed itself into a very Gorgon head, making you feel as if you saw the serpents wriggling in her locks. Her forefinger darted out like a poisoned dagger against the object of her execration; or her fist clenched as though it would shatter the universe at a blow; or her fingers bent like the veriest tiger's claws to lacerate the victim of her fury—a spectacle so terrific that the beholder, shuddering with horror, would feel his blood run cold, and gasp for breath, and moan, “God help us all.”
This may sound like wild exaggeration, like an extrava-
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