An enthusiastic French student of Shakspeare thus comments on the tragedy of Macbeth:—
"Ah! your Mossieu' Shak-es-pier! He is gr-r-aand—mysterieuse—sooblime! You 'ave reads ze Macabess—ze scene of Mossieu' Macabess vis ze Vitch—eh? Superb sublimitee! W'en he say to ze Vitch, 'Ar-r-roynt ye, Vitch!' she go away; but what she say when she go away? She say she will do s'omesing dat aves got no naame! Ah, ha! she say, 'I go, like ze r-r-aa-t vizout ze tail, but I'll do! I'll do!' W'at she do? Ah, haviola le graand, mysterieuse Mossieu' Shak-es-pier! She not say what she do!"
This was "grand," to be sure; but the prowess of Macbeth, in his "bout" with Macduff, awakens all the mercurial Frenchman's martial ardor:—
"Mossieu' Macabess, he see him come, clos' by: he say (proud empressement), 'Come-o-o-n, Mossieu' Macduffs, and d——d be he who first say enuffs!' Zen zey fi-i-ght-moche. Ah, ha! voila! Mossieu' Macabess, vis his br-r-ight r-r-apier, 'pink' him, vat you call, in his body. He 'ave gots mal d'estomac: he say, vis grand simplicite, 'Enoffs!' What for he say 'Enoffs'? 'Cause he got enoffs—plaanty: and he expire r-right away, mediately, pretty quick! Ah, mes amis, Mossieu' Shak-es-pier is rising man in La Belle France!"
Anonymous.