Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford, 1788 (1717-1797)
My histrionic acquaintance spreads. I supped at Lady Dorothy Hotham’s with Mrs. Siddons, have visited and been visited by her, and have seen and liked her much, yes, very much, in the passionate scenes in “Percy”; but I do not admire her in cool declamation, and find her voice very hollow and defective. I asked her in which part she would most wish me to see her? She named Portia in the “Merchant of Venice”; but I begged to be excused. With all my enthusiasm for Shakespeare, it is one of his plays that I like the least. The story of the caskets is silly, and, except the character of Shylock, I see nothing beyond the attainment of a mortal; Euripides, or Racine, or Voltaire might have written all the rest.
Letter to the Countess of Ossory, 15 Jan. 1788. Letters, ed. Peter Cunningham, 1859, vol. ix. p. 124.