Durin a recent visit to New York the undersined went to see Edwin
Forrest. As I am into the moral show biziness myself I ginrally go to
Barnum's moral museum, where only moral peeple air admitted, partickly
on Wednesday arternoons. But this time I thot I'd go and see Ed. Ed
has bin actin out on the stage for many years. There is varis 'pinions
about his actin, Englishmen ginrally bleevin that he's far superior to
Mister Macready; but on one pint all agree, & that is that Ed draws
like a six-ox team. Ed was actin at Niblo's Garding, which looks
considerable more like a parster than a garding, but let that pars. I
sot down in the pit, took out my spectacles and commenced peroosin the
evenin's bill. The awjince was all-fired large & the boxes was full of
the elitty of New York. Several opery glasses was leveled at me by
Gotham's fairest darters, but I didn't let on as tho I noticed it, tho
mebby I did take out my sixteen-dollar silver watch & brandish it
round more than was necessary. But the best of us has our weaknesses &
if a man has gewelry let him show it. As I was peroosin the bill a
grave young man who sot near me axed me if I'd ever seen Forrest
dance the Essence of Old Virginny, "He's immense in that," sed the
young man. "He also does a fair champion jig," the young man
continnered, "but his Big Thing is the Essence of Old Virginny." Sez
I, "Fair youth, do you know what I'd do with you if you was my sun?"
[Footnote 56: From "Artemus Ward: His Book."]
"No," sez he.
"Wall," sez I, "I'd appint your funeral to-morrow arternoon, & the
_korps should be ready_. You're too smart to live on this yerth."
He didn't try any more of his capers on me. But another pussylanermuss
individooul in a red vest and patent leather boots told me his name
was Bill Astor & axed me to lend him 50 cents till early in the
mornin. I told him I'd probly send it round to him before he retired
to his virtoous couch, but if I didn't he might look for it next fall
as soon as I'd cut my corn.
The orchestry was now fiddling with all their might & as the peeple
didn't understan anything about it they applaudid versifrusly.
Presently old Ed cum out. The play was Otheller or More of Veniss.
Otheller was writ by Wm. Shakspeer. The seene is laid in Veniss.
Otheller was a likely man & was a ginral in the Veniss army. He eloped
with Desdemony, a darter of the Hon. Mr. Brabantio who represented one
of the back districks in the Veneshun legislater. Old Brabantio was as
mad as thunder at this & tore round considerable, but finally cooled
down, telling Otheller, howsoever, that Desdemony had come it over her
par, & that he had better look out or she'd come it over him
likewise.
Mr. and Mrs. Otheller git along very comfortable-like for a spell. She
is sweet-tempered and lovin--a nice, sensible female, never goin in
for he-female conventions, green cotton umbrellers, and pickled beats.
Otheller is a good provider and thinks all the world of his wife. She
has a lazy time of it, the hird girl doin all the cookin and washin.
Desdemony in fact don't have to git the water to wash her own hands
with. But a low cuss named Iago, who I bleeve wants to git Otheller
out of his snug government birth, now goes to work & upsets the
Otheller family in most outrajus stile. Iago falls in with a brainless
youth named Roderigo & wins all his money at poker. (Iago allers
played foul.) He thus got money enuff to carry out his onprincipled
skeem. Mike Cassio, a Irishman, is selected as a tool by Iago. Mike
was a clever feller & a orficer in Otheller's army. He liked his tods
too well, howsoever, & they floored him as they have many other
promisin young men. Iago injuces Mike to drink with him, Iago slily
throwin his whiskey over his shoulder. Mike gits as drunk as a biled
owl & allows that he can lick a yard full of the Veneshun fancy before
breakfast, without sweating a hair. He meets Roderigo & proceeds for
to smash him. A feller named Mentano undertakes to slap Cassio, when
that infatooated person runs his sword into him.
That miserble man, Iago, pretends to be very sorry to see Mike conduck
hisself in this way & undertakes to smooth the thing over to Otheller,
who rushes in with a drawn sword & wants to know what's up. Iago
cunningly tells his story & Otheller tells Mike that he thinks a good
deal of him but that he cant train no more in his regiment. Desdemony
sympathizes with poor Mike & interceds for him with Otheller. Iago
makes him bleeve she does this because she thinks more of Mike than
she does of hisself. Otheller swallers Iagos lying tail & goes to
makin a noosence of hisself ginrally. He worries poor Desdemony
terrible by his vile insinuations & finally smothers her to death with
a piller. Mrs. Iago comes in just as Otheller has finished the fowl
deed & givs him fits right & left, showin him that he has been orfully
gulled by her miserble cuss of a husband. Iago cums in & his wife
commences rakin him down also, when he stabs her. Otheller jaws him a
spell & then cuts a small hole in his stummick with his sword. Iago
pints to Desdemony's deth bed & goes orf with a sardonic smile onto
his countenance. Otheller tells the peeple that he has dun the state
some service & they know it; axes them to do as fair a thing as they
can for him under the circumstances, & kills hisself with a
fish-knife, which is the most sensible thing he can do. This is a
breef skedule of the synopsis of the play.
Edwin Forrest is a grate acter. I thot I saw Otheller before me all
the time he was actin &, when the curtin fell, I found my spectacles
was still mistened with salt-water, which had run from my eyes while
poor Desdemony was dyin. Betsy Jane--Betsy Jane! let us pray that our
domestic bliss may never be busted up by a Iago!
Edwin Forrest makes money acting out on the stage. He gits five
hundred dollars a nite & his board & washin. I wish I had such a
Forrest in my Garding!