Life of Edwin Forrest, the American Tragedian. Volume 1 (of 2)Alger, Horatio, Jr.
General
Life of Edwin Forrest, the American Tragedian. Volume 1 (of 2)
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Forrest, Edwin, 1806-1872
The Othello of Kean was his unapproachable masterpiece, crowded with
electric effects in detail and crowned with a masterly originality as
a whole. It left its general stamp ineffaceably on the young actor who
that night confronted it with his Iago in such a manner as to win not
only the vehement applause of the house but likewise the warm approval
of the Othello himself. Forrest had carefully studied the character of
Iago in the independent light of what he knew of human nature. And
he conceived the part in what was then quite an original reading of
it. The current Iago of the stage was a sullen and sombre villain, as
full of gloom as of hate, and with such sinister manners and malignant
bearing as made his diabolical spirit and purposes perfectly obvious.
One must be a simpleton to be deceived by such a style of man. A man
like Othello, accustomed to command, moving for many years among all
sorts of men in peace and war, could be so played on only by a most
accomplished master of the arts of hypocrisy. Forrest accordingly
represented Iago as a gay and dashing fellow on the outside, hiding his
malice and treachery under the signs of a careless honesty and jovial
good humor. One point, strictly original, he made which powerfully
affected Kean. Iago, while working insidiously on the suspicions of
Othello, says to him,--
"Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
Wear your eye thus, not jealous,--nor secure."
All these words, except the last two, Forrest uttered in a frank and
easy fashion; but suddenly, as if the intensity of his under-knowledge
of evil had automatically broken through the good-natured part he was
playing on the surface and betrayed his secret in spite of his will,
he spoke the words _nor secure_ in a husky tone, sliding down from a
high pitch and ending in a whispered horror. The fearful suggestiveness
of this produced from Kean a reaction so truly artistic and tremendous
that the whole house was electrified. As they met in the dressing-room,
Kean said, excitedly, "In the name of God, boy, where did you get
that?" Forrest replied, "It is something of my own." "Well," said he,
while his auditor trembled with pleasure, "everybody who speaks the
part hereafter must do it just so."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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