For other's uses.
Desdemona comes!'
The burst of mixed passions with which he uttered the first of these sentences was terrific. His voice then sank into tones the most touching, expressive of complaining regret. The conclusion seemed to have excited him to the most extreme pitch of loathing and disgust, and, as he sees Desdemona advancing, he, for a few moments, gazed upon her with horror. The feeling gave way, and all his former tenderness seemed to return as he exclaimed,—
'If she be false, O then Heaven mocks itself,—
I'll not believe it.'
The subsequent scene with Iago, a trial of physical as well as mental strength, was well sustained. It is here that Iago, by a series of artful manœuvres, screws the Moor up to the sticking-place. To the conclusion of the scene the vehement passions are continually increasing, and the difficulty is for an actor so to manage his powers as to give full effect to the whole, without sinking into apparent tameness in the last imprecation. We will not attempt any description of the bedchamber scene. The reiterated and protracted plaudits of the audience showed how highly it was appreciated. The dying-scene was equally novel and excellent. At the fall of the curtain the audience testified their delight and approbation by the most marked and vehement applause, which continued for several minutes."
The London Journal gave a long account of Forrest's Lear, of which this extract contains the substance:
"We have been much amused by the conflict of opinion respecting this representation. Some describe it as one of the most magnificent triumphs of this or any age. Another denounces the performance as an idle and false imposition, and the actor as an ignorant empiric, who has crossed the Atlantic solely to practise on the gullibility of John Bull. We do not think John quite so gullible; we do not believe that in matters of intellectual recreation he is so apt to take
'Those tenders for true pay
Which are not sterling.'