File:Ellen Terry as "Portia".jpg

Identifier: lifeartrichardma01wint (find matches)
Title: Life and art of Richard Mansfield, with selections from his letters
Year: 1910 (1910s)
Authors: Winter, William, 1836-1917
Subjects: Mansfield, Richard, 1857-1907
Publisher: New York : Moffat, Yard and company
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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Princess Theatre, and the stagehad been rebuilt and enlarged, the proscenium open-ing was only twenty-five feet wide, the distancebetween the curtain-hne and the back wall was onlytwenty-three feet, and a forty-foot drop couldnot be used on the stage. Mansfields scenic dis-play, accordingly, was mutilated. His performanceof the Jew, which is described and commemoratedelsewhere in this memoir, wliile, necessarily, it lackedclarity and completeness, was remarkable for sus-tained vigor and for points of exceptional merit.The presentment, however, as a whole, was inade-quate, and it did not arouse the ardent enthusiasmthat he had expected it to inspire. My profes-sional duty as a dramatic reviewer was minutely,thoughtfully, and zealously fulfilled, and Mansfieldsacting of Shyloch received at my hands a liberalmeasure of sympathetic recognition. He thoughtotherwise; he decided that he had been treatedwith malicious injustice; deserted; neglected;persecuted; damned! His letters to me became
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Photoijraph h.n Windoir and drove, London ELLEN TERRY AS PORTIA HARD WORDS 193 insufferable, and, at last, I felt constrained torequest him not to write to me again. A friendshould bear a friends infirmities, but there are timeswhen the most inveterate patience tires. Mansfieldhad been driven into a sort of frenzy, by failures,disappointments, care, and incipient sickness. Thefollowing is a mild specimen of his epistolary pro-ductions at that time, addressed to me: . . . Damn your criticisms! No man can keep me backfor long! You can injure my pocket, and you certainly have—on occasions! I had a deuce of a time getting our onlypatrons, the Jews, to come and see The Merchant, becauseyou made me out a fiend and a vulture. $8,000 more ofmy hard-earned dollars gone; and you impractical Devil—what do I—am I—can I, live on? Air? Do you think I ameternally to sweat and labor for no earthly return? . . . I have been harassed and worried and hounded, beyond allendurance. It seems I must

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