Words are not enough to describe the silent beauty of this man's every step and gesture. The tilt of his head or the stoop of his shoulders, the raising of his hand or the arching of his brow, make a prose description something quite awkward if not faintly sacrilegious. Marcel Marceau is an accomplished actor, a striking artist, and a wondrous, wordless poet.

The two performances of the past weekend had many moments of purest comedy and tragedy. The pantomines, at their best, were like a liquid silver which filters through the fingers with a beauty that could be touched and felt, yet not held. For comedy there was "Walking Against the Wind," "Tug of War," and "The Tight Rope Walker." "Youth, Maturity, Old Age, and Death" was justly accorded awe-filled silence by the capacity audiences in Sanders Theater.

Appearing with M. Marceau was Gilles Segal who did not fare quite so well with his pantomines. "Underwater Fishing," like many of M. Segal's sketches, was notable for its physical feats, but regrettable for its lack of aesthetic content. In his more serious selections, M. Segal's individuality compared badly with M. Marceau's sense of humanity. One could always admire and oftimes sympathize with M. Segal, but one could identify with, and cry for M. Marceau.

The final pantomines of the evening belonged to M. Marceau and his classic creation, Bip. "Bip as the Botany Professor," and "Bip as a Lion Tamer" are M. Marceau at his best. For those who could neither find tickets nor, for that matter, afford the prices, M. Marceau opens tomorrow in New York and remains there until February 16.