Los Angeles herald., 1906-05-19


less of the fact that it is punishable
by death.
Don Enrique, Spanish grandee. sent
to punish the person who caused the
disappearance of the Moor, becomes
fascinated with Zoraya, who admits her
guilt. She gains an ascendency over
him, which causes him to forget his
duty, even to sparlng her life when 1t
was forfeit under the law. This act on
Don Enrlques part inspires Zoraya with
an overmastering passion for him and,
asfa a consequence, regardless of spies,
intrigue and danger, the two, though
of different races, tradition and creed
are one in appreciation of love. They
defy public sentiment, law and danger,
and at length go together to their doom.
The first three acts are short, and
move rapidly through with good
climaxes; the minor characters figuring
largely, especially in ensembles. The
real climax comes in the tremendous
fourth act, with La Bernhardts superb
denunciat tion of the Christians. No scene
in the drama, In intensity and boldness,
may be imagined greater than that in
which Zoraya Ia BernhardD turns to
a crucifix on the wall and apostrophizes
the Redeemer in these words:
And this prophet, their God, was
crucified by the inquisitors of his time.
They nailed your hands and feet that
you should not aid the unfortunate. If
you cannot break away from your
cross, cry out to those infamous judges
to go no further to find hell and the
DEVIL
With these lines La Bernhard sent
thrill through the audience which
had never been felt before. This was
her crowning effort of the evening. 1t
had, however, been led up to by mar
velous acting, in the space of only a
few moments
The final, fifth act, is not so fine as
one might wish, though far from an
anti-climax In it Zoraya awakenS
the, girl who was to have been the
bride of Don Enrique, winning the par
don the mob would not let her take,
the curtain falling OF a startling death
scene, in which Zoraya passes poison
from her lips to those of Enrique.
La Bernhardt is very strong on
death scenes, and all her plays con-
tain them. During them she is the
sinuosities, her gyrations and her
writings are wonderfully creepy and
thriIlingly awful. Even though 1 am
inclined to doubt that very many die
after this manner, yet she is so theatric
and so intense in her depletion of the
repulsive that l would not have her
be more natural for the world.
Of course. this bare outline of the
play gives you little idea of it's effect
upon, the hundreds who sat entranced
beneath the spell of the divine Sarah's
wondrous portrayal-ably assisted by
a fine company for La Bernhhrdt is so
great herself that she need fear no ad-
verse comparison even with the best
of support, with which she surrounds
herself--though this be stage heresy,
fear, with most of our stars. The
magnificence of her art enthralls, the
superb quality of it entrances, the
magnificence of it appalls. To one
whose trade is writing and whose i'm
plements are adjectives and phrases it
would seem easy to say what his feel
ings are in almost any case; that Is
his business as it were. But am free
to confess that 1 am so obsessed by the
wondrous art of this French woman
albeit not an entire stranger to it,
either-that L am fairly stumped.
When I have conned o'er'my stock of
CALCULATIONS, my store of superlatives,
verify, they seem so inadequate, so
feeble, that 1 am completely dumb
fooled! viii you let it go at that?
Really, though, there is one thing
I must say 1 don't understand how
she holds her age so well. La Bern
hardt confesses to 62-she admits that.
She is a grandmother: her own son
she claims to have been ''un accident
d'amour" but that son is properly wed
and has a child of his own. She has
been on the stage well nigh half a
century and has played strenuous
roles from the first. Yet of her
Shakespeare might well have writ
ten:
TIer infinite variety. Other women cloy
The appetites they feed, but she makes
hungry
Where most she satisfies.
1 have seen a good many players in
my day. both at their zenith and after
wards, during their farewell periods,
both men and women, and / have come
to dread the latter stage as one great
-clilnaX-an iconoclastic event \ to
be avoided as one would the plague.
1 shall never forget, for instance, the
shiver Of horror that ran through mo
when saw the Patti, whom 1 had
heard at her superb best, toddle old
womanshly out and squawk in a
cracked voice and lowered key the
songs with which she had thrilled a
world! 1t was like the robbery of a
tomb! You could hear the dry bones
rattle! AndG had rather a creepy feel
ing, I'll admit, while / waited breath
lessly for Sarah.
But what a glad disappointment!
When she appeared in that first act,
stealing in as softly and as bewitch-
ingly as the moonlight which flooded
the scene, it was as if young girl had
made her first step into public gazel
Not a wrinkle, not fiabby eye nor a
dropping chin; not a toddle of decrep-
itude; not symptom of age! How she
does it | don't know how much is
due to expert care and attention to her
physical self 1 care not; there is the
fact-the Sarah of quarter century
agoneis still with us; she has made the
years stand still and Time pauses in
his own career to admit himself con-
quered.
Nor has she lost in power-in ability
to thrill and hold and sway her audi
ence. All the little quirks and turns,
the mannerisms which are hers alone
and give La Bernhard identity and
individuality, she retains-the things
that have always made her little short
OF sensational. La Soreiere" gives
her plenty of opportunity for the shim-
mering, clneing draperies that em-
phaslze every graceful move of her
body. She wears all the barbaric
beads and Jewels that have always