In both we have the spectacle of a proud and sensitive but
open and loving nature blighted with dishonor and misery through the
crimes of one near in blood and cherished with an unsuspecting
affection. Here were conceptions that made no demands on his
imaginative power. He had not to transform himself into the
characters, but only to give free play to the springs of his own
nature. The grief, the passion, the sudden revulsions of feeling were
not mimetic displays: one could imagine no different expression of
them. He was Werner and Melantius because Werner and Melantius were
Macready.
Shakespeare's characters do not so adapt themselves to individual
idiosyncrasies. No man can hope to identify himself with them unless
he can give wings to his faculties and soar above the plane of his
actual emotions. Often, no doubt, apparent triumphs have been gained
by displays of histrionic power that owed little to the informing
spirit of the poet. But Macready has never been accused of seeking
such results: whatever his performances may have lacked, they were
always imbued with a fine intelligence which brought all the details
into harmony and kept the attention fixed on the conception of the
character.
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