Immeasurable as was my admiration for Gluck, I was really distressed by the affected style in which those divine works, Armida, Alcestis, and the two Iphigenias, were offered us by the old company; one enjoyed and suffered at the same moment. All was distortion, and an awkward mob of extras in soiled classic costume, their heads wreathed in roses, their faces rough and bearded, their reddened fists protruding from their coarsely­ woven sleeves, made an impression as distasteful as it was ridicu­lous. Remembering then that it was the beautiful sorceress Armida who, seeking the downfall of her noble knight, had brought all this about, one turned to Mme. Branchu, who must surely have been at least sixty, and every illusion was lost. << less