oriolanus is to be displayed. Yet when Hecuba at last is
reached the interest of the situation makes itself felt with force. The
massive presence and stalwart declamation of Edwin Forrest made him
superb in this character; but the embodiment of Coriolanus by
McCullough, while equal to its predecessor in physical majesty, was
superior to it in intellectual haughtiness and in refinement. An actor's
treatment of the character must, unavoidably, follow the large, broad
style of the historical painter. There is scant opportunity afforded in
any of the scenes allotted to Coriolanus for fine touches and delicate
shading. During much of the action the spectator is aware only of an
imperial figure that moves with a mountainous grace through the fleeting
rabble of Roman plebeians and Volscians, dreadful in war, loftily calm
in peace, irradiating the conscious superiority of power, dignity,
worth, and honourable renown. McCullough filled that aspect of the part
as if he had been born for it. His movements had the splendid repose
not merely of great strength but of intellectual poise and native mental
supremacy. The "I must be found" air of Othello was again displayed, in
ripe perfection, through the Roman toga. His declamation was as fluent
and as massively graceful as his demeanour. If this actor had not the
sonorous, clarion voice of John Kemble, he yet certainly suggested the
tradition of the stately port and dominating step of that great master
of the dramatic art. He looked Coriolanus, to the life. More of poetic
freedom might have been wished, in the decorative treatment of the
person--a touch of wildness in the hair, a tinge of imaginative
exaltation in the countenance, an air of mischance in the gashes of
combat. Still the embodiment was correct in its superficial
conventionality; and it certainly possessed affecting grandeur. Whenever
there was opportunity for fine treatment, moreover, the actor seized and
filled it, with the easy grace of unerring intuition and spontaneity.
The delicacy of vocalism, the movement, the tone of sentiment, and the
manliness of condition--the royal fibre of a great mind--in the act of
withdrawal from the senate, was right and beautiful. It is difficult not
to over-emphasise the physical symbols of mental condition, in the
street scene with "the voices"; but there again the actor denoted a fine
spiritual instinct. To a situation like that of the banishment he proved
easily equal: indeed, he gave