In the month of June, 1857, we began to rerehearse "Macbeth," at
Covent Garden, London, It had been arranged for our company by Mr.
Clarke, and translated into most beautiful Italian verse by Giulio
Carcano. The renowned Mr. Harris put it on the stage according to
English traditions. The representation of the part of Lady Macbeth,
which afterward became one of my favourite roles, preoccupied me
greatly, as I knew only too well what kind of comparisons would be
made. The remembrance of the marvellous creation of that character as
given by the famous Mrs. Siddons and the traditional criticisms of the
press, might have rendered the public very severe and difficult to
please.
I used all my ability of interpretation to reveal and transmit the
most minute intentions of the author. To the English audience it
seemed that I had really incarnated that perfidious but great
character of Lady Macbeth, in a way that surpassed all expectations.
We had to repeat the drama for several evenings, always producing a
most profound impression upon the minds of the audience, particularly
in the grand sleep-walking scene. So thoroughly had I entered into
the nature of Lady Macbeth, that during the entire scene my pupils
were motionless in their orbit, causing me to shed tears. To this
enforced immobility of the eye I owe the weakening of my eyesight.
From the analytical study which I shall give of this diabolical
character [at the close of her Memoirs] the reader can form for
himself an idea of how much its interpretation cost me (particularly
in the final culminating scene), in my endeavour to get the right
intonation of the voice and the true expression of the physiognomy.