11 



KNOWLEDGE 



[Ju, 



1882. 



I. ijnuled spoeiea of all, its flowers being quite uuiioticeaWe, 

 owing to their greenness or brownness, and it is apparently 

 always wind-fertilised Nevertheless, all of the plantains 

 are originally descended from ancestors with bright petals 

 and honeyed nectaries, as may be seen by their united 

 corolla, which inyariably points back to an earlier stage of 

 insect fertilisation. /'. tncdia shows us best what is the 

 sort of type from which these degenerate little weeds are 

 ultimately derive<l. The others should be carefully com- 

 pared with it, and tlieir difterences noted and accounted 

 for. The key will be found in the relative adaptation of 

 each kind to wind- fertilisation. 



RISTORI'S LADY MACBETH. 



ALTHOUCII the plan and purpose of Knowlei)i:e are 

 inconsistent with regular dramatic criticism, the 

 appearance of a great actor or actress in an important 

 Sliakespearean part may well be regarded as a matter 

 within our scope ; for if the actor should " hold the mirror 

 up to Nature," as Shakespeare tells us, our great dramatist 

 has depicted Nature herself, and the study of Nature is 

 the aim of Knowledge. 



If we study the work of great actors, and consider the 

 secret of their success or failure, it will be seen liow deep a 

 truth underlies the trite saying quoted above. Just in 

 proportion as the actor, granting him intellect to see what 

 is natural, holds the mirror up to Nature, does he move 

 his hearers. Each touch of Nature makes the whoie 

 audience akin with him. The gamut of feeling may extend 

 beyond the range of most of them, just as the music 

 assigned to a prima (ervrre runs beyond ^the range of ordi- 

 nary singers ; but even in scenes such as scarcely any can 

 estimate from actual experience, truth to Nature can bo 

 us certainly recognised as the truth of a great singer's voice 

 DUtside the ordinary range. Thus, if wc analyse the feel- 

 ings with which we follow a great actor or actress, wc find 

 that we are plea.sed or ofTi-nded (for the best and greatest 

 of them offend at times), just in proportion as they present 

 truthfully or the reverse the action and character entrusted 

 to them. This is true, despite what is also true, that on 

 tlie stage the lights and shades of character must be 

 intensified, in order that they may seem as strong as in 

 real life. The sceno-paiuter does not paint as a Claude 

 Lorraine would paint ; he uses devices such as a great 

 landscape painter would reject : yet if he is a master of his 

 art he aims at producing true eflTccts as certainly as a 

 Turner or a Claude. So it is, or so rather it should be, 

 with the actor. 



Yet so little is this recognised by the general run of 

 actors, who, unfortunately, must always take a large part 

 in the representation of every play, that, as a rule, it is 

 painful to the real lover of Shakespeare to see any of his 

 noble dramas acted. Wc believe that this, rather than 

 any want of appreciation of the true value of Shakespeare's 

 work, is the reason why, as an actor and manager of the 

 day has said, Shakespeare "spells bankruptcy to the 

 manager." It is, indeed, certain that all the Shakespearean 

 plays require modification before they can suitably be n; 

 presented on the modern stage ; for the simple reason that 

 many accessories which were valued in his time, and there- 

 fore suitable, are now useless, or even ridioulou.s. For 

 example, although the witch scenes in Macbeth are in- 

 extricaVjIy interwoven with the plot, and, rightly arranged, 

 might still be effective, it is certain that in their details 

 they are now utterly unsuitable. No one is impressed 

 when the first witch remarks that, "Like a rat without a 

 tail, she 'II do, she 'H do, she '11 do ; or when the three 



witches put into the cauldron a number of unpleasant in- 

 gredients. The more solemnly these scenes are given, the 

 more do they detract from the ellect they are intended to 

 produce ; so that, by the time Macbeth enters, wo aro 

 \ery ill-prepared to be all'ected by liis powerful con- 

 juration. IJut in this and similar cases the fault is not 

 Shakespeare's, but that of managers and actors, who cannot 

 see how, with changing ideas, such scenes have become 

 unsuitable. It was not liero and thus that Shakespeare 

 wrote " not for an age, but for all time." When^, however, 

 his real power is shown and should be felt, nine actors 

 out of ten fail to impress us with any feeling but a sense 

 of incongruity. They address the a'ulience, where speeoh 

 and action should be addressed to c.ich other ; they mouthe, 

 where they should .speak "trippingly on the tongue"; they 

 rant and rave, where they should bo grave and reflective ; 

 they aro vioh^nt, where they should be deeply moved; and 

 in scenes where passion and fire are needed, they produce 

 no cff'-ct on an a'ldience already tired of their mciningless 

 violence. 



Madame Ristori, during the week ending last Saturday, 

 brought into strong contrast tlie right and the wrong ways 

 of presenting great Shakesperean parts. To begin with, she 

 is a woman of intellect ; and she has applied her intellect, 

 in the first place to tlio study of Shakespeare's Lady 

 Macbeth, and in the st^cond to the adaptation of her own 

 powers to the part. Slio has neither forgotten, on the one 

 hand, that it is Shakespeare's conception she has to deal 

 with, nor, on the other, that she can only in so far carry 

 out his conception as nituro has fitted her for the part. 

 Wo do not say that her view of the part is, in our judg- 

 ment, altogether correjt. Occasionally she seeincd to 

 merge the ambition, resolution, and subtlety of Lady 

 Macbeth, into an actually murderous temperament, of 

 wliich there is no indication in Shakespeare's Lady 

 IMacbeth. On the contrary, Lady Macbeth shows early, 

 and this indeed Madame Ilistori represented admirably, 

 that the ellbrt iiy which she had compassed the thought of 

 murder, had been too much even for her resolution. The 

 anguish e.spressod by the actress while Macbeth tells her 

 of his fears (" We liave scotched the .nnake, not kill'd it," 

 itc.) was admiraVjly conceived, and justified, despite the 

 resolute " But in them nature's copy's not eterne," by the 

 tone in which Macbeth speaks of his plan.s. " Be innocent 

 of the knowledge," he fays, " till thou applaud the deed ;" 

 and again, "Thou marvcll'st at my words; but hold thee 

 still." The sleep-walking scene can only be rightly under- 

 stood or rendered, when these subtle indications of Lady 

 Macbeth 's real character, and of Macbeth's recognition of 

 it, are adequately noted. 



There was one fault in Madame Ristori's presentation of 

 the part, whicli .seemed to us a grave one. Lady Macbeth 

 has half persuaded her hu.sband, in the speech beginning, 

 " 0, never .shall sun that morrow see," to what lie had half 

 resolved on already. " We will speak further," is all he 

 says ; and seeing his face change into suspicion breeding 

 gloom, she answers — 



" Only look up clear ; 



To alter favour ever is to fear.* 



Leave all the rest to me." 

 Madame Ilistori closes this scene by a singular walk with 

 Macbeth across the stage, in which nothing is said by 

 either ; but Macbeth, by repeatedly raising his hand, 

 suggests that he is not convinced, while Lady Macbeth 

 warningly raising hers, as often suggests that ho must 

 yield to her. This might do fairly well — though we doubt 

 it — on a small .stage ; but continued across more than half 



• Not " to be afraid," but to " cause fear," to " allri{,'lit." 



