The Sun. — 1846-01-03 (London, England)

FRENCH PLAYS-ST. JAMES'S THEATRE.  Madame Albert made her debut for the season here last evening, in the character of Madame Dorsan, in Desforges' admirable comedy of La Femme Jalouse. This comedy is a minute dissection. It might have been aptly entitled " The Physiology of Jealousy." It works out the passion through every phase—it follows it through all its ramifications to its remotest consequences—beginning with the ridiculous, it en.,s with the sublime. Desforges has done what Joanna Baillie professed to do—he has written a play of a passion—La Femme Jalouse is the character of the piece—the centre of the system around which all the other characters revolve as satellites. She has been for sixteen years the wife of Monsieur Dorsan, and for fifteen years the mother of an only daughter. She is a woman of strong passion, who loves her daughter and her husband. She would fain be a good wife—a good mother—a kind mistress to her household—a generous benefactress to all—but her incurable jealousy spoils her good intentions, and she is a universal pest. In the earlier scenes, the nervous fidgitiness, the tremulous uneasiness, the painful sensitiveness, which are what logicians would call the essential modes of a jealous nature—were admirably depicted by Madame Albert. But an event takes place which a mind, much less prone to jealousy than hers, might beget suspicion. She discovers in-her husband's possession a small box ; she cannot open it. There is an outbreak of unfounded jealousy. He refuses to satisfy her curiosity as to the contents of the box. She falsely accuses him of infidelity. Circumstances prove to her the utter want of foundation of her sus picions. She restores to him the box, and asks his forgiveness ; and, in the fulness of his heart, he opens the box and shows her its contents. The box contains the portrait of a lovely young girl. Again does her jealousy revive. He assures her it is a fancy sketch. Still her suspicions are not lulled, and she watches him narrowly. Judge of the ungovernable fury of her jealousy when she learns that a lovely young girl has been at her own house, asking for Mens. Dorsan. M. D'Aranville (Cartigny), the guardian of Madame Dorsan, under whose advice Dorsan acts throughout, removes this young girl to the house of Gervais, an old servant, of the family. It is in vain that M. Dorsan (Lemarde) protests his innocence. In her fury the jealous woman demands a separation, and her husband, who loves her dearly, tired out with the tyranny under which he has suffered for sixteen years at once consents, leaves her, and with his daughter Eugenie (Mtelemoisselle St. Marc), and her lover, M. de }ley (admirably acted by M. Plunkett), who also suffered severely from her jealous humours, takes refuge in the house of Gervais, where he finds D'Aranville and Clemence, the young lady whose arrival at his house had roused the jealous fury of Madame Dorsan. Clemence, a lovely girl of eighteen, had never before seen Dorsan, but she knew him as her benefactor, who had, from her earliest years, cared for and caused her to be educated—to whom she owed everything. She rushes into his arms. At thin moment Madame Dorsan enters, and finds locked in her husband's embrace the original of the portrait. Madame Albert's acting throughout this trying scene was truly sublime—it was la haute tragedie, and tragedy of the very highest order. She retires to her home. The rest go to D'Aranville's, who, after much trouble, persuades Dorsan, who loves his wife tenderly, and fears she may commit suicide, to leave all to his management. D'Aranville writes to her to inform her that the deed of separation has been signed by her husband, who has gone he knows not where, and whom she will never see mote, and that she is free. Her love—for without intense love jealousy cannot exist—ui ges her on the instant to D'Aranville's. She finds him alone. He calmly tells her that at length the slave of sixteen years has broken his fetters, and has sought, with his two children, that happiness of which for sixteen years her jealousy has deprived him. Yes, Clemence, his daughter, burn before he had become acquainted with Madame Dorton ; he knowing her jealous di'position, had conc,aled from her the fact of the existence of Clemence, and had, out of tenderness to her, foregone the consolation of seeing his first-born and tenderly-loved; child. She is melted at once. In agony she calls upon her husband, who rushes from his place of concealment, and she sinks into his arms. Nothing could exceed the impassioned intensity of the acting of Madame Albert, throughout this trying character. Words cannot do justice to it; to be appreciated it must be seen. She was admirably supported by Lemarde as M. Dorsan, who depicted the struggle between love and the duty he was under to himself to assert his own dignity, and free himself from the unbearable annoyance of her suspicious jealousy, with great pathos. Cartigny, as the sententious, blunt, common-sense tralear, was admirable; and Mdelle. St. Marc infused into the character of Eugenie a mingling coquetry, simplicity, and affection, which was most fascinating. Madame Albert was called for at the fall of the curtain, and rapturously applauded. This is another of those revivals of the French classical drama for which the present season is so favourably distinguished from its predecessors, and its reception by a crowded house proves that the taste which dictates them is properly appreciated. Bravo! M. Mitchell. Vila de la haute comedic. En avant. The pleasant comedic-vaudeville of La 31,uniere de M ,rly followed, in which :adame Albert again appeared in her favourite character of Denise.