Less highbrow than eyebrow, or both. Even if you wanted to, it would be hard to shake-off Hamlet, 3.1.
I have heard of your paintings too well enough. God
has given you one face, and you make yourselves another: you jig, you amble,
and you lisp, and nick-name God’s creatures, and make your wantonness, your
ignorance. Go to, I’ll no more on’t, it hath made me mad.
I recall the bonny Richie, from Wexford, sharing the
Highbury flat, lower his shaking head into his hands to softly declaim: ‘they’re
all tarts.” And for what? Poor Ophelia. Bloody Hamlet, and Richard – for the young it all ends tragically well.
Claire Bloom also excellent in Richard III: you bottled spider.
