The Sun. — 1856-06-05 (London, England)

LYCEUM THEATRE.  Never prObably—save on the first night of the first amateur pantomime—was an audience assembled in a London theatre so thoroughly actuated with an absorbing feeling of curiosity as the audience who last night sat expecting the appearance of Madame Ristori. The play selected for the debut was the " Meddle" of M. Ernest Legouv6, ©f which there was much talk in Paris about a couple of years ago, when Mademoiselle Rachel refused to play the principal part. Th 3 curtain rose, and in the earlier scenes Creon, King of Corintb, Jason, and Orpheus chiefly occupied the stage. But trifles were forgotten when a tall and handsome woman, carrying one child and leading another, appeared on the mountains at the back of the stage. This was the Ristori—this was Medea, in whom the maternal principle was at once made prominent to heighten the horror of the catastrophe. The demeanour was proud and commanding, the countenance was of the haughtiest in its outline, the eye was dark and flashinee and though the only feeling delineated was that of suffering (for Medea, accoteling to M. Legouve, has lost Jason. and has become a homeless wanderer), the aspect was of a suffering queen. A thunder of acclamations followed—almost anticipated her appearance—and even when she had uttered the first few lines, instructing her children to kneel before the temple with suppliant boughs in their hands, and implore protection, there was such a tenderness in her tone that a gasp of sympathy might he heard in every direction. The charm of the voice, the power of modulating it were so manifest that none could resist its fascinati in. Then came a dialogue between Creusa, and Medea, much on the same principle as that between Adelgisa and Norma, beginning with mutual friendship, and ending with the discovery that both the ladies are in love with the same person. Crosse is the innocent girl, Medea is a grand criminal, who has committed all sorts of delinquencies, but who has a sort of glory in her guilt, and who, when she sees her new-made acquaintance shrink with horror at a hint that murder has been among her misdeeds, utter the words " fanciulla !" with a sort of compassionate scorn. Jealously comes to be a topic of conversation, and then Medea says what she would do to those who would make her jealous : " What would Ido to them ? What does the panter, When in the depths of forest glooms. He springs Sudden in fury, roaring with fell joy Upon his prey, and bears it to his cave, There rends it limb by limb, and joint by joint, Mangling each reeking member.' Nothing could exceed the. effect produced by these lines. Madame Ristori did not merely talk about the leopard, she became the leopard, End by her gestures signified that she was rending an imaginary victim piece. meal. With ninety-nine ar:dets out of a hundred this would have been vulgar rant ; With Madame Ristori it was a sublime burst of rage—the rage of a haughty spirit that would demolish a world. The late Mr. Edtnnnd Kean once exclaimed with honest pride that the pit "rose at him." Madame Ristori might declare with equal truth that the stalls shrank from her. As for the audience last night, they were overwhelmed with admiration. We have confined ourselves to the principal "effects" of the first act. At present we would record the fact that a great success has been achieved by an artist who for sublimity in the expression of tragic emotion is probably beyond parallel. The whole affair is "grand"—that is the exact word.