couvreur and the succès de vogue of Louise de Lignerolles, Rachel urged the author to write another piece for her. He selected the subject of Medea, one which, as he said himself, he had always thought admirably suited to her classic genius. Without letting her know the title or subject of his tragedy, Legouvé, on the completion of his work, wrote to the actress, asking her when she could hear it read. Rachel fixed a day, telling him she was un peu patraque from over-exertion in Belgium, but that, if he would come to her villa at Montmorency, she was prepared to listen to what she hoped might be her winter success.
"The impression produced on her," the author tells us in his Conférences Parisiennes, "was not favourable. The title seemed distasteful. She had hoped for a modern rôle, and, when she had heard to the end, an eloquent silence reigned between us for a few moments, which said plainer than words, "Your piece is detestable." Ceding to the explanations and persuasions of Legouvé, however, with whom she read over each scene word by word, she accepted—or seemed to accept—the tragedy definitely. Her opinion was ratified by the sociétaires of the Comédie Française, who, in conclave, after recommending some corrections, gave their consent to the representation of the piece.
The repetitions began at the theatre on the 2nd September 1853. Legouvé thought there was no longer any chance of a frustration of his hopes. He little knew the changeable, fantastic nature with which he had to deal. On the 17th September he received a letter from a friend of Mademoiselle Rachel, who sometimes acted as her secretary, to the effect that the repetitions could not be proceeded with, owing to the actress's state of health; but that there was no need
