The Argosy — page 309: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

290 Adelaide Ristori. that to cross it seems, in truth, a service of danger. On the bank, dimly lit by a flickering lantern or two which are borne by a few friendly peasants, stands a‘dreary group. ‘The men have gloomy faces, and now and then an oath in Italian is muttered by them ; the women cry and call on the saints, and wrap themselves shivering in their cloaks. They have to cross that angry, chafing river, but who will dare to trust themselves on that tottering bridge? Suddenly a tall female figure appears among the doubting, trem- bling band; they make way for her, and there is a hush among them. ‘We have promised, and we must not break our word to the public,” she says; “no, not even if it were an ocean instead of a river.” Then she steps on the bridge, and walks across it as leisurely and calmly as if she were treading the smooth turf of a sunny garden on a summer morning. And the group on the bank hesitate no longer. They follow her as if she possessed some irresistible spell which drew them after her, and soon they are all standing in safety on the oppo- site shore. Madame Ristori and her company are engaged to act in a city which lies beyond the river, and the great artist will not fail to keep up her well-known reputation of never disappointing her public. The next scene in which we will catch a glimpse of the queen of tragedy, as she was often called, has a strong element of comedy in it. The play which Madame Ristori is now rehearsing is a classical drama, and she is in one of the German universities. It is an absolute necessity for the play that there should be a chorus of Greek maidens who have to be in constant attendance on the heroine, and to-day Madame Ristori and her chorus are rehearsing together. We gaze round on the Grecian damsels, and first are struck by the remarkable height of most of them, and by the very unfairy-like pro- portions of the feet and hands which appear from beneath the classic, gold-fringed robes. Then, we look a little closer at the troop of maidens, and to our horror we perceive that, in spite of all efforts used to conceal the fact, some of them are actually endowed with whiskers and moustaches. ‘The solution to the strange enigma is, that the students of the university have insisted on taking the part of the chorus, and Madame Ristori is diligently drilling her strange recruits. But the light fades, the dissolving views vanish ; we have finished the story of Adelaide Ristori, the great artist, the noble, true-hearted woman. ALICE KING. a be i . : — > “> —— — = “4 ae —— i { 4 CORNIELOOOL<Sareoyag) |