Page:Rachel (1887 Nina H. Kennard).djvu/173

 account of the respect I owe to the man by whom we had the honour of being governed, and for the respect I owe to myself. My devotion has thus, you see, been the cause of the dismissal of our director. I might have deplored this in silence, had not his resignation revealed the extent of the evil wrought by my zeal. In presence of this fact, of which I was involuntarily the cause, I did not think, it possible to remain any longer a member of the Théâtre Français. This is the reason of my retirement.****

Let me say, also, that I am not the only member of the company who laments the inconveniences and vices of self-government. Everyone of them knows it is no longer feasible. We are all unanimous in the wish to see the power concentrated in the hands of a director, who would give to our administration the strength it needs, and would guarantee to each actor the freedom and repose so much needed for the exercise of his art.

I have waited in vain a whole year for this happy solution. The term fixed for my withdrawal has come. It is not without profound regret, Madame, that I take leave of this stage which recalls so many happy memories. They say I intend to seek for success far from France. They are mistaken. Where should I find a public like the one I leave? The memory of its kindness to me, of its indulgence, its appreciation, will not be effaced so easily. I will add one word more: applause is a necessity of my life. I gave my last representation at the Rue de Richelieu yesterday; but I shall look forward to appearing on the little theatre you propose to build in your garden. A thousand thanks, Madame, for having taken the trouble to read my long and tiresome letter.

As we have seen, Rachel resigned on the 14th October; on the 29th she wrote again to Madame de Girardin. We give the first part of it in French, for it is in Rachel's best style:—

Vous qui m'avez vue verser un torrent de larmes au récit des petites misères de nos coulisses, vous comprendezcomprenez [sic] ma fuite de la capitale si vous n'en approuvez pas la résolution. Depuis quatre jours la fiévrefièvre [sic] me gagnait, et Paris allait me rendre folle, lorsque je me determinaidéterminais [sic] à aller abriter mon imagination déjà quelque peu en délire à la campagne verte encore, et dorée parfois d'un soleil tiède. Me voilà donc partie et installée dans une modeste petite chambre d'auberge. Mais loin d'éloigner de mon cœur et de ma tête ces colonnes plus ou moins antiques, ces portiques plus chinois que