An Indian
servant, who, for some reason or other, has a deadly hatred for the
whole family, substitutes a live reptile. Clementine appears at the
window with the venomous creature coiled round her neck, screaming with
wild terror. The spectators on the stage think that the snake is dead,
and that she is only screaming from "nerves," but in reality she is
being slowly strangled. I began screaming in a frantic, heartrending
manner, and continued screaming, each cry surpassing the last in
intensity and agony. At rehearsal I could not get these screams right
for a long time. Madame de Rhona grew more and more impatient and at
last flew at me like a wild-cat and shook me. I cried, just as I had
done when I could not get Prince Arthur's terror right, and then the
wild, agonized scream that Madame de Rhona wanted came to me. I
_reproduced_ it and enlarged it in effect. On the first night the
audience applauded the screaming more than anything in the play. Madame
de Rhona assured me that I had made a sensation, kissed me and said I
was a genius! How sweet and pleasant her flattering words sounded in my
young and inexperienced ears I need hardly say.
Looking back to it now, I know perfectly well why I, a mere child of
thirteen, was able to give such a realistic display of horror.
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