In a quiet interval of half an hour before going to dine at Macready's,
I sit down to write you a few words. But I shall reserve my letter for
to-morrow's post, in order that you may hear what _I_ hear of the
"going" of the play to-night. Think of my being there on Saturday, with
a really frightful cold, and working harder than ever I did at the
amateur plays, until two in the morning. There was no supper to be got,
either here or anywhere else, after coming out; and I was as hungry and
thirsty as need be. The scenery and dresses are very good indeed, and
they have spent money on it _liberally_. The great change from the
ball-room to the snowy night is most effective, and both the departure
and the return will tell, I think, strongly on an audience. I have made
them very quick and excited in the passionate scenes, and so have
infused some appearance of life into those parts of the play. But I
can't make a Marion, and Miss ---- is awfully bad. She is a mere nothing
all through. I put Mr. Leigh Murray into such a state, by making him
tear about, that the perspiration ran streaming down his face. They have
a great let. I believe every place in the house is taken. Roche is
going.
_Tuesday Morning._--The play went, as well as I can make out--I hoped to
have had Stanny's report of it, but he is ill--with great effect. There
was immense enthusiasm at its close, and great uproar and shouting for
me. Forster will go on Wednesday, and write you his account of it. I saw
the Keeleys on the stage at eleven o'clock or so, and they were in
prodigious spirits and delight.
[Sidenote: Mr. John Forster.]
48, RUE DE COURCELLES, PARIS,
_Sunday Night, Dec. 27th, 1846._