Word: launcelots
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...scene between Launcelot and Old Gobbo, is, on the printed page, one of Shakespeare's weakest comic passages; and, on the stage, it usually proves to be an embarrassing interlude. For the first time in my experience, thanks to Frederic Warriner's Launcelot and Stanley Jay's Gobbo, the scene came out satisfactorily; their combined antics were most hilarious...
...scene between Launcelot and Old Gobbo is, on the printed page, one of Shakespeare's weakest comic passages; and, on the stage, it usually proves to be an embarrassing interlude. For the first time in my experience, thanks to Frederic Warriner's Launcelot and Stanley Jay's Gobbo, the scene came out satisfactorily. Warriner, in an outlandish patch-work costume, turns the clown into a merry stutterer; and Jay sports an over-sized pointed nose and few teeth. Their combined antics are hilarious...
...nearly all of them redeem themselves in the truly funny final scene. Here Edith Iselin, as Portia, and Paul Schmidt, as Bassanio, lose their initial remoteness and become recognizable as lovers. Jean Loud, in the part of Nerissa, is charming throughout, gaining stature as the play progresses. As Launcelot Gobbo, a clown, Michael Pollatsek injects some humor into the early scenes by cleverly contrived pomposity and overacting. Ernest Eugene Pell, on the other hand, gives a somewhat too unobtrusive, if competent, performance as Antonio, the Merchant. Yet the only serious defect in the acting of these and the other members...
...aforbled of the hungrie bande that Slounketh out of the Woode called Holly. Nay, the Table Round hath more mouthes in this twelvemonth fedd than ever it didde the whiles Kyng Arthur supped him there. First comith that pritty knight Sir Robert, the Taylor yclept, and feigneth to bee Launcelot, and then harde after hym ye yongge esquirt Robert a Wagner, yt callith himselfe Prince Valiant...
...sits pyght and pritty on a woodan tubbe ycovred in hors hyde, and doth preetende to make the onslaught-slishe! slashe!-a-straking o' the air on's Sworde, and a-brasting of's cheekes wi' greate shoutes wold fright, I trow, the Lice offe Launcelot...