New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1889-08-28
They are not fends,


Could the man, after all, be a foreigner! IS
might account perhaps for his pedantic En-
glish. .>>>-,-'N
True, !" I answered, returning to his
train OF thought with something of an
effort; s'but what seemed weird about the
witches in Shakspear's time strikes us now
as grotesque, and for US the comic element
TENDS to destroy their supernatural and
poetic force.'' g.
In Shakspeare's day. returned nv com
panion musingly, $50 much more was left
to the imagination. Tt needed no greater
eHoft TO fancy that player arrayeu in
everyday Ellzabeuhan costume represent
ed witch than to fancy that he represent
ed Macbeth. We gained in poetic freedom
something of what we lost by the lack of
properties. Some imaginings are too intan-
gible to bear the realization with which Won
modsrns seek to endow them, and these
witches are case in point, I find it hard to
conceive them better presented, but they
are a failure Notwithstanding. Their dra-
matte effect is enfeebled by oyerrealiza-
tion.''
In Shakespeare dayt You moderns! This
man t;s seemed ! to have strange power of
OF view, his speech even, had flavor of
300 years ago. For an instant wondered
whether he might be some enthusiastic
Shakespeare scholar with mind unhinged
by too much learning. But his thoughtful
eyes and quiet manner obliged me to repel
the conjecture at once as an unworthy sus-
picion.
But what do you think of the mounting
OF the play, so far!" asked more
to make him speak again than because
l doubted what the answer could be.
ut is perfect!n he sad, with depth of
feeling which surprised me- ssThree hun
dred years ago Shakespeare had dim, half
realized visions of some such setting to his
plays, but he lOnged in vain for the power
to fulfill them. Imagine his sensations if
he could be here tO-night!o
Yes, indeed! I was just thinking that
before the play began, and idly wishing it
were possible.''
Glow do you know the wish was idlesn
face as he spoke with enc of those strange
chances which set my nerves tingling and
my heart beating. There was no laughter
IN his eyes, and / could not even smile at
his rejoinder. I felt embarrassed and per-
picked, and it was relief when he looked
away and spoke again in his usual friendly,
conversational tone.
Your Henry Irving is a great player,''
he said, with an air Of purposely changing
the subject, ssbut he does not give us Shaks-a
scene OF the first act. AT the beginning
he is to calm and thoughtful Before the
crime Macbeth is something of swash-
bucaler, taking no care to hide his feelings.
He is physically brave, but moral coward,
with strong passions and no great intellect.
The clever man yon player makes
him would never have allowed Banquo
to divine how greatly the witches moved
him.
He spoke with certain authority, as if
there could be no appeal against his criti-
clsm. In any one else this woul Id have an
noyed me- but this man seemed to know
now to dOgmatize without offending and I
! assented without mental reservation to his
dictum.
eyes" said, che is rather too self-c0n-
tanned ~
''Self. contained!" he repeated in a low
voice. as il considering the meaning of the
word. Eyes, it is a good phrase. never
thought of it myself"
The last words were an almost inaudible
murmur, and he sank into a fit of abstrac-
ton and apparently forgot all about me.
But by this time l was too much under the
spell of his fascination to bear to be ignor-
ed, so spoke again to rouse him.
And what of Miss Terry's Lady Mac
bethsn
''She is beautiful! I have never before
seen even bad actress, and this lady is
charming. Think how the lads who played
her part were wont to rant and mouth it
300 years agO!n
How strangely his thoughts harped al
ways on the one string! Struggling with a
revived suspicion, made no answer, and
he continued with quiet earnestness: Il
never hoped to see Lady Macbeth so nearly
realized. Mistress Terry is now and anon
not terrible enough, but it is a good fault,
for,she makes Lady Macbeth woman such
as the playwright had in his mind-a low
ing, lovable woman, ruined by one evil i'm
pulse. BY a deliberate effort of will she
shuts out all considerations save the one
glittering object of her ambition. She has
to invoke the spirit of evil to give her
strength to be cruel commits deed
against her nature, and afterward dies
slowly OF unavailing remorse. The pity of
it! The pity of it! Oh, how have suffer
ed for her and with her!''
''You think them that Lady Macbeth's
was higher nature than her husband's?n
He looked surprised at my question, and
then answered with courteous tolerance:
s'Assuredly! Macbeth was weak man rem
dered ferociously cruel by the same moral
coWardice which at first restrained him
from crime, His better parts where physi.
cal courage and a leaning toward respecta-
biiity He had no conscience, no moral
hatred Of crime, but only dread of it's social
consequences Remember that the first
cautious suggestion Of Duncan's murder
came from him in his letter to his wife.
She understood his uneXDressed desire. and.
though she hated the deed, she choked her
moral sense to favor her ambition and his
And when all is said, she but scotched
husband possessed much less, and his first
yielding to crime slew that little utterly
He fell through weakness, she through
misdirected strength
y
ingness to murder Duncan was due solely
to cowardice, not to his more powerful
Imagination, which enabled him to foresee
consequences to which his wife was blind!n
Eyes! Macbeth imagined wildly only
because he feared greatly. The crime once
committed, he suffered less from the tor
lures Of Imagination than from the fear of
detection. His wife suffered in both ways,
and her conscience killed her. With her,
imagination was rooted in her moral sense,
which was strong, though unhappily not so
strong as her one passion, while Macbeth's
round it's root only in selfish personal CON
Siderations''
Still the same tone, admitting of no APP
peal! Evidently he expected no fu rther re-
ioinder from me, and we were both silent
till the curtain rose for the second act
It would take too long to describe in detail
the intensity of his enjoyment throughout
the play. His interest never tagged for an
instant. Now and then, indeed, it rose to
terrifying excitement and, watching him,
shuddered for its possible consequences
both to him and and to me, so great was the
sympathy some mysterious power had
established between his brain and mine.