What a hollow mockery it was! Madame Malten was Armide, and she was everything that could be wished in voice, talent, style, beauty and charm.

She spoke French without an accent and was as remarkable as an actress as a singer, so she would without doubt have had great success at the Opera in Paris.

She was Armide herself, an irresistible enchantress.
But the rest! Renaud was a raw boy, and his shaven chin brought out in sharp relief enormous black moustaches with long waxed ends.

He had a voice, to be sure, but no style, and no understanding of the work he was trying to interpret.
Hidradot is an old sorcerer tempered in the fires of Hell.

He enters, saying: "I see hard by Death that threatens me, And already old age, that has chilled my blood, Is on me, bowing me beneath a crushing burden." Imagine my surprise at seeing come on the stage a magnificent specimen of manhood, with a curled black beard, in all the glory of his youth and vigor superbly arrayed in a red cloak trimmed with gold! The stage setting was also extraordinary.