Duse

When Duse once looked at the stage before the curtain rose, she found a statue in the supposed room.

Here she saw Eleanora Duse, the great actress, whose impersonations made a great impression on the young singer.

Art was art, of course, but she was no Duse, and she didn't care to be the object of such public passion.

Signora Duse has this immunity, but she has a far nobler deliverance from vanities, in her own peculiar distance and dignity.

Has any one yet fully understood how her liberty in this respect gives to the art of Signora Duse room and action?