Absurd and unnatural as this miserable mode of speech is, it is very difficult to be got rid of, when it once becomes habitual to an actor; a memorable instance of which was old Mr. Wignell of Covent garden, the father of our late manager. He was one of the Quin school, and if now alive and able to act, would once more hitch in very handsomely with the recitativers of the new academy of acting, for, says the author of the Thespian dictionary, "He possessed the singular talent of imparting stateliness to comic dialogues, and merriment to tragic scenes." Of this gentleman many anecdotes are recorded, curious in themselves, and well deserving the consideration of young actors.
Upon the revival of the tragedy of Cato in London (Cato by Sheridan) Mr. Wignell was put forward in his old established part of Portius. In the first scene he stepped forward in his accustomed strut and began
The dawn is overcast, the morning low'rs
And heavily with clouds brings on the day.
At this moment the audience began to vociferate "prologue, prologue, prologue," when Wignell finding them resolute without moving from the spot, without pausing, or changing his tone of voice, but in all the pomposity of tragedy, went on as if it were part of the play.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there has been no
Prologue spoken to this play these twenty years—
The great, the important day, big with the fate
Of Cato and of Rome."——
This wonderful effusion put the audience in good humour—they laughed incontinently—clapped and shouted bravo, and Wignell proceeded with his usual stateliness, self-complacency, and composure.
Mr. Wignell's biographer above mentioned relates the following anecdote. "During a rehearsal of the suspicious husband, Mr. Garrick exclaimed "pray Mr. Wignell, why cannot you enter and say, "Mr. Strictland, sir, your coach is ready", without all the declamatory pomp of Booth or Quin?"—"Upon my soul, Mr. Garrick," replied poor Wignell, "I thought I had kept the sentiment down as much as possible."" When Macklin performed Macbeth Wignell played the doctor, and in this serious character provoked loud fits of laughter.
The above facts contain a valuable lesson to actors, some of whom can, no more than Mr. Wignell, get the sentiment down, when they have an event of such importance to announce as the coach being ready. In serious truth we are persuaded that the fulsome, bombastical ridiculous stateliness of some actors, tends to bring tragedy into disrepute, to deprive it of its high preeminence, and must ultimately disgust the multitude with some of the noblest productions of the human mind.
Two other characters of the tragedies already alluded to, demand from the justice of criticism the most full and unmixed praise. Falstaff in Henry IV. and Cacafogo in Rule a Wife and have a Wife, had in Mr. Warren a most able representative. Having seen several—the select ones of the last five and thirty years—we can truly say, without entering into nice comparisons, that if we were to sit to those two plays a hundred times in America or Great Britain, we could be well contented with just such a Falstaff and just such a Cacafogo as Mr. Warren.