SARA BERNHARDT.

Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume XLVIII, Issue 8241, 13 June 1905, Page 4

SARA BERNHARDT.

WHY SHE HAD A (JOFFfN ALUJK

AND SLEPT IN IT.

"Positively my last season — positive^ my last." do. says Sara Bernhardt, the oWe»l iuul youngest, the homeliest and aU the same time the most beautiful actress on Iho French stagp.

"i>ut please say that I shall play again in English before 1 say good-bye. Yes, ami in German, French, and Chinese. I no».v play in three languages, and 1 shall soon play in four.

"Say that I ;wn retiring while at. llio height of my career. I retire because 1 am afraid I shall grow old."

Afraid she will grow old! And -elie js only in the sixties. That is t ho real reason of the retirement of .Sara IBernvhardt. She is afraid she may at soimj time — some far-distant time—grow oM? I

lv spite of her brilliant success Sara, jlcrnhardt has not been a happy wotrisui. Slio has boon haunted by her fears.

The first of her fears— namely, Ihat she would get too thin — was the dread one of her early life. She \cas as cmacrated as a skeleton, and for yeavs and years she could not bare her neck upon the stage. Even now all her gowns; are made high in the throat and arc cub low in the back. "The back of a woman is beautiful. The front is not," she said shortly to one of her stage people who questioned her upon fchis peculiarity.

The fear that she wouid be buried alive haunted her day and night for years. Finally someone suggested that she try sleeping in her coffin. "It may rid you of this awful nightmare thought of being burted alive."

SLEPT IN HER OWN COFFIN.

So Sara bought her coffin, and for weeks; she amused 'herself fitting it up. She lined it with costly laces and silk, and she spent a small fortune decorating it on the outside. When she had tired of her toy she< would climb inside and rest. Here she» would lie with roses and palms around her,, and here she would take a nap. Manynights she slept there all night, and, describing it, she said. "I never slept so* soundly in my life."

After a while the fear of premature burial left her, and she was 'quite happy for o, few weeks. Then came another featIt was the fear that her son Maurice would! cease to love her.

"He is grown up, and he is clever, and 7 ho is prosperous. But he is still my baby," 'she \ sobbed to a, friend. "Suppose: he should cease to adore me. I should:

- In vain Maurice reasoned and heir i friends reassured her. It was a nightmareLuckily -Maurice bethought Jiim of a aerie* of fencing lessons. With the foils in hand:' , mother and son fenced, and the fears of,' Sara Bernhardt drifted away.

Then came the fear of having too much money. She was paid large sums, and her money began lo accumulate. "But I must not keep it," she said. Ami so she began lv sponcl it. .She Iwuglil- a little place, Bello Jslu by the sea. She lwughL a theatre in r.u-is. She purchased ;i town house and ,' expensive clothing. And the money drifted j away. When it was all gone and she was I in dobt she said. ".7e suis content."

CAUSE OF UKU EXTRA VACAXCK.

Her jealousy of Sardou was v matter for all who entered the theatre to" note. At rehearsals it was apparent, and she would drive the other women from the stage whilo she. rehearsed with the grout author alone. If others were necessary to the scene they were brought in. Hut she. Avas nt her happiest when alone with Sur<lou. "It is not that she likes him for himself," said a member of tho profession, "but it is for her art. As soon as he admires {'mother she will know that there is another as great as she."

"I watch him and tremble. I am full' of fears," once said Sara.

Then came the last and greatest fear of all — the fear that she would grow old on the stage. This is a fear which a great many have had, bub few have been routed as utterly by ifc as Sara.

"I cannot bear to think," she said, "that I shall some day go on the stage a ghastly figure of my former self.

"The poor old actress with her voice half gone, her figure bent and shrunken, her beauty faded, and her powers diminished., appearing as a mere ghost of her former self, is pitiable in the extreme. I should •die if I were to go on the stage like that."

"Sara remembers the last <lays of Jenny Lind Goldschmidfc," said some one. "She heard that glorious voice wlien, theve wove only three whole notes left."

"I should <lie,' 'said Sara, ".if after one of my greatest scenes the audience should iiiurmiir only murmurs of pity instead of the .bravos of admiration. I should die if no one wept with Camilla. I should perihh if no one pitied poor Fiou Frou. 1 should not live if in tho audience of I/Aiglon I saw not one sympathetic glance. I'athel ie, dreadful, are words that I could not liear to hoar.

THE SPECTRE OF OLD AUK.

"And, so, I am going lo retire. Bctiuo' while in the flush of my triumph, while dn tho height of my career., "Listen,'* slio said, and in her llulc-likc voice she read this paragraph from a I'rcudi paper, translating it rapidly into English :

"TJIO Ijcauliful Sslfa. swayed her audfwn« last night with more than dramatic fervor. It was real life. N'cver lias she been no magnificent. The playwright himself said, Truly, she is grand."'