aldbain."

Then for the first time he drew his hands together with the daggers in
them, and in the most heart-rending accents exclaimed,

"This is a sorry sight."

Thus represented by Mr. Sheridan, this scene was perhaps the most
interesting in the drama. What then must it have been when done by
Garrick. A critic now before us speaking of Garrick and Mrs. Pritchard
in this part, says, "His distraction of mind and agonizing horrors were
finely contrasted by her apathy, tranquillity, and confidence. _The
beginning of the scene, after the commission of the murder, was
conducted in terrifying whispers._ Their looks and action supplied the
place of words. The poet here gives only an outline of the consummate
actor-- "I have done the deed," &c. "Didst thou not hear," &c. The dark
colouring given by Garrick to these abrupt speeches made the scene
tremendous to the auditors. The wonderful expression of heart-felt
horror which Garrick felt when he viewed his bloody hands, can only be
conceived by those who saw him." MURPHY, who confirms this account by
Davies, says that when Garrick reentered the scene with the bloody
daggers in his hands, he [Murphy] was absolutely _scared out of his
senses_. It is but fair to add, that the great dramatic censor who wrote
in 1770 says "Without any exaggeration of compliment to Mr. Sheridan, we
must place him in a very respectable degree of competition with Mr.
Garrick in the dagger-scene; and confess a doubt whether any man ever
spoke the words "this is a sorry sight," better."

How vapid, meagre, frigid, and unaffecting has been the performance of
this part since Mr. Kemble's reign. According to his institutes, Macbeth
closes the door with the cold unfeeling caution of a practised
house-breaker, then listens, in order to be secure, and addresses lady
Macbeth as if, in such a conflict, Macbeth could be awake to the
suggestions of the lowest kind of cunning.

In his entrance to the witches in the cauldron scene, Mr. Cooper suffers
the character to sink. This is one of the parts with which the audience,
at one time, used to be most gratified by the powers of their great
actors. The critic from whom we have cited above, adverting to
Henderson's Macbeth, which was astonishingly great, says, "In the
_masterly conjuration of the witches_, in the cavern, _so idly omitted
by Kemble_, he was wonderfully impressive."

Yet there is upon the whole so little exceptionable, and such abundant
beautie