"But when perfections of the mind break forth,
Honour's chaste sallies, judgment's solid worth,
When the pure, genuine flame by Nature taught,
Springs into sense and every action's thought,
Before such merit all objections fly,
Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick six feet high."
I believe that the French actress, Rachel, was so ignorant of the true history of that which she represented, that, to her, all the events, in the various pieces in which she played, happened in the same comfortable chronological period "once upon a time." One of the greatest actresses of the Garrick period, in some respects perhaps the greatest, was equally ignorant. Mrs. Pritchard, it is said, had never read more of the tragedy of "Macbeth" than her own part, as it was delivered to her in manuscript, by the prompter, to be got "by heart." Quin was nearly as ignorant, if a questionable story may be credited. Previously to Garrick's coming, the "Macbeth" which was played as Shakspeare's was really Davenant's, with Locke's music. When Garrick announced that, for the future, he would have Shakspeare's tragedy and not Davenant's opera acted, no man was more surprised than Quin; "Why!" he exclaimed, "do you mean to say that we have not been playing Shakspeare all this while?" Quin had less excuse than Mrs. Pritchard,—for how was that poor lady—"the inspired idiot," Johnson styled her—a strange sort of person, who called for her "gownd," but whose acquired eloquence was beautiful and appropriate,—how was poor Mrs. Pritchard to know anything of the chronology of the story, when Garrick played the Thane in a modern gold-laced suit, and she herself might have called on the Princess Amelia, in her dress for the Thane's wife? Nevertheless, the incomparable two were as triumphant as if they had been dressed according to time and place. Nor were they less so in two other characters which they dressed to the full as much out of propriety, though not of grace,—namely, Benedict and Beatrice.
I have alluded to the essay made by Miss Pritchard. Let me add that when the young lady first appeared as Juliet, Mrs. Pritchard as her mother, Lady Capulet, led her on the stage. The scenes between them were heightened in interest, for Lady Capulet hovered about Juliet with such maternal anxiety, and Juliet appealed by her looks so lovingly to her mother, for a sign of guidance or approval, that many of the audience were moved to tears.
The house was moved more deeply still on an after night,—the 24th of April 1768,—the night of Mrs. Pritchard's final farewell, when Garrick played Macbeth in a brown court suit, laced with gold, and she the "lady," with a terrible power and effect such as even the audiences in those days were little accustomed to. Her "Give me the daggers!" on that night was as grand as her "Are you a man?" and when the curtain descended, such another intellectual treat was not looked for in that generation.