Pictorial Shakespeare, 1880-1890 - eTheses Repository - University ...

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PICTORIAL SHAKESPEARE, 1880-1890
A Sbudy of Major London Productions,
lay Russell Bennett Jackoon,
In two volumes: Volume One.
Submitted in parti".! fulfilment of the
requirements for the c?egroe of Poet or of
Philosophy in the Jniveroity of P>ir.-.:in,f;hrjn,
"'ry 1975.

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SYNOPSIS
This thesis ie in two volumes:
VOLUME OIIE
After an Introduction, Acknowledgements and a List
of Illustrations, Part One discusses critical
attitudes in Art Shakespearean Criticism and the
Theatre during the eighteen-eighties. Part Two
begins with an account of the "Lyceum style" and
its critics, and a description of Irving f s 188£
Macbeth* The second chapter deals with the work
of E.W. Godwin and Lev/is Strange Wingfield, and is
followed by detailed descriptions and cliscuscione:
of attempts to challenge Irving's ascendancy as
a -.reducer of Shokespe are's pi; ys« These productions
are: vilcon Barrett*s Hamlet (1884) » -ary Anclerson's
iioiiieo and Juliet (1884), Mr and Mrs Kendal's As You
Like It (1885), Mary Anderson's The 'VintorVs Tale
(1887), lily's The Taainf; of tho Shrew (1088), i iss
.alliss's As. You Like It (1888), Tree's The
.ives of v>'indsor (1889), rlrnsfield«s ^ichcrc III (1-89),
Reason's A Midaunmer Nigjit * s Dream (1889) and ro
Lrn^try's Antony and Cleopatra (1890). A Conclusion
the first volume.
VOLUME 'JV/O
Notes to the cim-otcrs of Volume One are i'ollov/od by
a .jiblio£;r," ohy divided into four sections:
(A) manuscript and archive material, (B) m-orrptiooks
and o> itions of the ,)lays, (C) newspaper and magazine
articlca, and (D) other, rinted, sources. The Aopendix
f^ivefj a Calendar of ShrJcespeare 'jcrf oiviances in i.o:ir ir:,
lc j-1890 (inclusive), iuce;:ed by ^l^y and theatre, ar.cl
full cast lists of the productions discucsed in Volume
One, mid of Irving'o Lyceum Shrlres ->eare ^ro' 1 actions.

I have endeavoured, and I hope not altogether
in vain, by the united accessories of painting,
music, and architecture, in conjunction with
the ra iid movements and multiplied life which
belong to the ota^e alone, to re-einbocly the
prat, trusting thct the combination may be
considered less an exhibition of na^eantry
appealing to the eye, than an illustration
of history addressed to the understanding.
Charles Kean, Preface to his acting
edition of The inter's Tale,
The archaeologist..»must be an ; rtjrt, endowed
v;ith a &•• nue of form and colour, lu vin£
constructiveness well developed, and in i y -
puthy with tho dramatic purpose.
E.W.lodwin, "Archaeology on the btage",
The Dramatic Review, 8 February 1885.
Ac rorcrclo archaeology..,, avoid it altogether:
archaeology is merely the ccience of making
excuses for bad art;.,. it is the abyes from
which no artict, young or old, ever returns.
Or, if he does return, ho is so covered with
the dust of aces and uhe ndloew of tine, that
he ic quite unrecognisable ac an artist, and
has to conceal himself for the rest of his days
undor the cap of a prof e: cor, or as a mere
illustrator of ancient hictory. How worthless
archaeology io in art you can o, tir.rte by the
fact of its being so ponulr-r. Popularity is
the cro\:n of lr:urol v/hich the world puts on
!) '.d art .
Oscar ilde, "Lecture to Arl;- tudents",
1PH3, in Lisopyo and Lectures, edited by
Robert Ross (1900;.
The direct r of the future may not be a director of
Jco

VOLU.TE 0:iE Pace.
Introduction i
Acknowledgements
Illustrations
Part One - Critical Issues in the Decade: Art,
cJhakespeare and the Theatre.
1, Issues in Art Criticism 2
2» Sluikecjpciire Criticism 27
3. Theatrical writing and Production 57
Part J2v/o - The Production of Shakespeare's Plays
1. The Lyceum Style and its Critics 91
2. Scene-Painter, L»eci;:ner and Director:
the '.York of Godwin and .in-field 128
3.
l
.""'oCv/in,
rr> 4
uilcon Barrett and "rxilett
150
VOL.J I: T ,0
4. fl in.' 'field and >ary Anderson: ^oroo
and Juliet. 1RG4 1

i'hirj thesis alms to interpret the major London productions
of Shakespeare's plays in the years 1880-1890 in the 11'tot
of contemporary attitudes to prt,« lairing thic period theatrical
managers sought the a.vnroval of a public increasingly
conscious of certain vnlues in painting and literature, and
it ill be ar !ued that the employ.aent of expert "advisors" to
help cater to those tastes contributed a pood deal to the
ri^o of the director,
Vne productions cliccuosed in ietail were attempt a to
emu!.- te Irving*s Lyceum conri.--.ny, and to adapt Shakespeare
to suit a variety of techniques and talents, .ilthough these
endeavours ruiy seem unavailing and raiu.;aiidect when compared
v/ith the revolutionary stagings of . rcuivillc-I' rker and Poel,
it v.ill be oil; ; ested tliat they helped to -ii-oouce a climate
of oninion in v.iaich the production of one of :.;lir:r:ecpcare's
-." lays .-/ac rcfnjrded as an event in the artiotic world* -he
perfoiTinnces in question v/oro all "fashionsble", and all took
place in v'/est-End theatres. The befinnin^s of the re crbory
movement - including Hiss r>rtern's attempted r-'Viv^l of
Sadler'u ollc - and the cxpori :c rits of t-oel ho.ve not been
discussed, rhis ic. a ctu:Iy of i:n unaGiir-^.eflly "rich" theatre,
cjr.bitiouo i'or a "Vlnce of oquc-,1 honour v;ith 'rand OTI-TO and
t'.io Royal * cad o .:;/.
T'he ii",ures moi/t prominent in the chapters v/hich follov;
are rotors, actresses and .icua ,crc, v/hooe : ctivitico auct
be aac^i"; tood in tcr.ic of their personal and, -.rofenr'ior';:-'!
axal:itio:;c, ..jcalouoieo and fears. The t-./o archaeological
"ar.visers", S. .Godv.in (l-'"'33-lf;86) aiitl Lcv/ic .I.--field (I.c4;v
l.'.^l), wei'e in sono respc-ctc the decceni'lrntc of Pl'-nclic", but
they devoted taeir cix'oitG aliaoi:t exclusively to the oeriouo
drama, o-^C- encountered rea^r;:r tale hostility ojid dlatruct frora
mai.y quarters. 1-1 no^.o's antiout ri':-nir;n wa.s a rcsnor.r;e to r,
sl.Tov.'ing public (ler.iand for -oocular cnli;;htcn-:fnt. In iio
Recollections and ''oflccti nis (l n7"J Plrnc^a .ckno'./ledred
that he had miO -jrtaken 1 c'.uty:
oes not tlic historical nc-.intcr voluntrri?^
offer hi-r-olf to tho :iblic as on illu.-trrtor

11
of habits and jnnmivra, and ic he wantonly to
abu,.;e the faith accorded to him?
(1.225)
The Shakespearean productions of Charleo Xean discharged this
obligation to the full, but by the 'eighties the practice of
staging the plays o& though they were te: to for a series of
historical paintings was being questioned. F.van; eline and
;:':c;v.'in Blashfield, two A: :oric 'n journalists* observed in an
article "Pictorial Art on the .«. ge":
f.i.:co« .'.ve must coo tune our actors, let us
learn to a-^ly the laws of beauty in form
and colour guided by aeothetics rather than
by nre'iacolosyj the latter, pure and cirn-ilc,
we do not v/antj it would hamper us, ^but decent
fitness always holos* Anything oat re is badf
unfamiliar nr-Lie.ooloric; .1 u -liness cho.ild,
of course, be let alone, but unfariiliar archaeolo,
icr?l beauty by uoage soon becoines
fani?-i; r*
( The C entury tic? ^ o.zine , X.av (IHOO)
533-546; P.537J*
Go v;in nid iu -field v;ere obliged to defend themselves on the
one hand a: rrinf.;t accusations of inaccuracy, and. on the other
again; t the fl ionic sal of their v/ork ac mist^Ironly a r '
The ace uut of critical opinions on Art drav/o oti «iic art-
,j k )urnt licni v/hich ^rolif©rr!.tcci in the last decades of the
cenuury. Altiioii^h this part of the t:iosis is -;ri-. :rily a
L;tu: y of ta^rbe, I h ve attcnrrted to .liov; the rol" oionrliip
uctv/cen : inters' technique and public jurl -ei en to anr?. e:c-cctatioiic.
,i .ilarly, the account of thoatrical ,cn..''>r;if ncos
d.av;o ./ncrevor po iolo on in-' n-nation ro^'rciinr r/ia^e techniquos
- ">ron tbo >ka in p. roicu.l-r - as v;cll s reviews* I
have alf'.o u:.;o>J private letters and -or-ocrr; oT ;nr icr. 3ns
involved wnoro these hr.d nay boerin.^ on tu-bietic docirjimc.
Little iiifor .ation h.^s cono tc li.^bt co'ioerning tho i'inances
of London tneatres .:u-in.-» the '"i-ntioG, but it :.u.y be voted
tn: t by i;nj.c ti;;;e duration of run, r-ithcr tn, n frequency of
revival, n -d bee x.;c tho criterion of a production' u uccess.
tnis ooint of viev; Irvin^'c "_."Cb "Jill, "\ rrett'c. i; . .- t

.11
ias Andercon's Roineo and Juliet and the productions by Tree
and Daly were successful. Bencon's A aidoaamer Night's Dream
had its i'irrt run cut short by the nana ;c.r's decision to
stand by his repertory principles! it continued to please in
revival after revival.
Attention has been concentrated on attempts to rival
Irving by British manure rc,j consequently only one foreign
production, i1 ; ly's The gaming of the Shrew, hr-s been included.
Two of the chief rivals, however, were American. It seems
prudent to regard oho reductions staged by :.ary Anueroon.
and iLichnrC Uansfield in London as British - much v;as nu>de
of their cisatlantic origin when they ..ere -trccentoo. in
America, ihe work of the Meiningen troupe and of various
continental ctors has been excluded: ^osoi, J.^tori, Salvini
and oi-'rah i*ernharc.t v;ere touring in their ovm productions*
which h:\d. little influence on the manner of strain."; olo,yc in
the country they happened to be visiting.
i'he to. t of Shakeepe-'-.rc * o pl.iys referred to throughout is
J eter Alexander*G edition of Jho. .C_oaplete T ,;orks (1951),
unl;;3G ' ny ot.vi .r is apocifiod. °rorn;)1;bool:s rare referred to
by their librra-y aheif-nnrl:, fol-.ovvcd by their uu.a;; r in. the
relevant secti^:.i of iJhatuUck'o Tlio .^Iialce^ pearo Pr.o^i.-. tbooko
( i-u..Jia, Illinoiij, 1965). '-'lie dates of th atricnl roviews
quoted in uhe text ;;V'y be i'ound ourair.^rized in the notes to
e ch chapter, and then in -Jho Diblio' r r ">hy. I i-' vo rclo^tol
tile- oo.ivoiition v/Jicreby "la" reforc to the firr. t

IV
ACKHOWL.EnGEM PMT S
I am grateful to the Direct r and Trustees of the Polder
Shakespeare Library, .Yaaizin-ton, :i .C., for a research fellowchip
in the ca.:.;cr of 1973. Tho librarian and ctaff of the
Folder Library, rmtl tliss jeai-Jio N^wlin of the i;:rv;'rcl Theatre
Collection f;ave me valuable assistance during my research in
their collectiono. I am o- rticularly indebted to Miss Eileon
Robineon and her aosiutante at the Shakerpeare Centre Library,
StratforG-a;ion-Avon, to ''re Alice Bray, librarian of the
Shakespeare Institute and to the stcff of the Theatre Collection
at the Victoria and Albert Museum for much help and kindness.
Abov o all, I niu;t thank Dr Stanley ft ells for hie i .:of-,tigable
, criticicm and encourage.-ient.

ILLJoTR-.TI. .o
Following P: £
'.; tur; 1 detail in a >-re-.

vi
16 .^ccne from Daly's production of The jamlng of the
Shrew, Goiety, 29 M-y 1888 (Guy Little Collection) 298
17 Charles Co^hl: n and i:rc Ltin^try as Antony and
Cleopatra, 'Tince^'s 1- November 1>]90 (Guy Little
Collection). 344
18 :/iro banrtry ac Cleopatra, Princess's 1890 (^-uy Little
Collection). 346
Illustrations l f 2 and 5 are co;^y-right of
the Tru; tees of the Tate Gallery, and f act
not be reproduced v/it ? iout permit.ci..ui.
Illustrations 3, 4, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 10,
1? and 18 are from the Guy Little Collection
of Theotricnl Portraits, and mu^t not be
reproduced without perni:.;. ion of the
Director of the Victoria and Albert Muoeura.

Chapter One
oSUES III ART-CRITICISM,

In 1882 J.M.Stoddart, a Philadelphia publisher, issued a slim
volume of poems by Rennell Rodd, Rose Leaf and Apple Leaf*
The verses were printed on the rectos of translucent sheets
of rice paper, backed, for legibility, by interleaves of
stouter, leaf-p;reen stock. The first seventeen pages of text
were devoted to "! 'Envoi" - a prefatory note by Oscar v.'ilde,
who had written to Stoddart:
The preface you v/ill see is most important,
signifying my new departure from Llr.Ruskin
and the Pre-Raphaelites, and marks an era in
the aesthetic movement..
The author of "L*Envoi*1 was lecturing in America, and already
a past-master of haute-vulgarisation:his"new departure" from
Ruskin was chiefly concerned with Oscar Wilde, and Rodd was
favoured with the occasional patronising remark. The essay
gave a comprehensive account of the Aesthetic tei^peraraont,
derived from a variety of masters - notably Pater - and gracefully
dethroning Huskin: he had shown thr.t art is supremely
important in life, for which the new generation must be
thankful, but he had derived its importance wrongly. Art, for
the new temperament, offered an escape from the shallow but
painful experience of the modern world. It was an escape into
the past:
that longing for the old dead days which is
so modern, so incomplete, so touching, being,
in P. way, the inverted torch of Hope, which
burns the hand it should guidej and for many
things a little sadness, and for all things
a great love.p
A clumsy emulation of Pater's cadences is sometimes accompanied
by a re-working of his ideas. Wilde's description of
the much-desired "intensity" of aesthetic feeling is almost
a parody of the Conclusion to Pater's Renaissance, published
nine years previously:
that curious intensity of vision by . hich,
in moments of overmastering: sadness and
despair ungovernable, artistic things v/ill
live in one's memory with a vivid realism
caught from the life ivhich they help one
to forget...^
Such intensity is a me; ns to serenity and "the rer.l gladness
of life", which comes from the "absorption" rather than
rejection of all passion, "and is like that serene calm that

4
dwells in the faces of the Greek statues, and which despair
and sorrow cannot disturb, but intensify only" . This
cultivation of detachment works as a prophylactic, allowing
the aesthete to wander near and far, unscathed by coranitment,
"always testing new forms of belief, tinging his nature with
the sentiment that still lingers about some beautiful creeds
and searching for experience itself, and not for the fruits
K
of experience" .
The criterion of artistic judgement fitting for such a
temperament was not far to seek: cultivated personal response,
individualistic to the extreme of denying all ethical and
social concern. Art may be allowed to have an ethical and
social value: it improves and ennobles man* But it need not -
indeed, should not - bother itself with social and ethical
matters, 'ilde appeals to Keats, music and painting for
justification, in a passage which alludes to L.ost ,:f Vxe
arguments offered on behalf of Aestheticism during the last
decades of the century: aesthetic pleasure is
that incommunicable element of artistic
delight, which, in poetry, for instance,
comes from what Keats called "the sensuous
life of verse", the element of song in the
singing,....
Me goes on to speak of "the scheme and symphony of colour"
in painting, and to praise Albert Moore and .Yhistler, "who
have raised design and colour to the ideal level of poetry
and music". The new art,
rejecting all literary reminiscence and all
metaphysical idea, is in itself entirely
satisfying to the aesthetic sense - is, as
the Greeks v/oulc. say, an end in itself.g
It is a scheme of literary theory which Wilde liinself could
not maintain in his './orks: his fairy tales, for example, depend
upon what here is stigmatized as "metaphysical idea", and on
their ethical purpose. But the extreme egocentricity of approach,
rr.th.er than systematic and consistent theorizing, markc his
own woric and that of others during tlie period. At one end of
the scale are the French Impressionist painters, at the other
is Dorian Gray who, as Barbara Charlesworth puts it, "takes
pie-: sure not so much in enjoyment of the moment as in v/;; tuning
the effect of the moment upon .dniself" '. The difference in

artistic achievement is considerable, but the underlying
assumption is in both irstances the supremacy of individual
vision and impression*
The debate conducted in the art periodicals, books and
public exhibitions of the eighteen-eighties followed two
major lines of argument, which frequently converge. Broadly
speaking tliey are the question as to what place literary
inspiration and allusion should occupy in the artist's list
of priorities, and the relationship between "i; eal" and "realistic"
painting. Behind the discussion lay the larger question
of the degree of freedom which an artist might allv-vv his eye
and temperament, and the maintenance of common laws of
perception*
i. Looking "through" pictures*
In the course of his libel suit against John Buskin, witnesses
were expected to testify as to whether Vhistler wrs too lazy
to finish paintings properly, or did, in fact, see nature as
he depicted it. The issue was further confused by the fact
that Ruskin had championed Turner, some decades before, on the
grounds that Mature was as the painter had shown it, and that
his genius could simply see and copy more than most men could."
The farce of 18?8 ended with the award of one farthing damages
and the bankruptcy of the painter. \Vhistler was hardly to be
subdued, and in February 1885 he delivered his "Ten o Clock"
in London, a lecture stage-managed by I-Irs. D'Oyly Carte and
containing the most concise and trenchant statement of his
views on art. The damage done to taste by Ruskin and his
fellow-upholders of literary content was, he claimed, patent:
nooole have acquired the habit of looking, as
who" would say, not at a dcture but through,
it, at come human fact, that shall, or shall not,
from a social point of view, better their mental
or moral state.
The result has been a harmful dichotomy in attitudes:
So v;e have come to hear of the painting
that elevates, and of the duty of the nsint

has tended to obscure tlic similarity between his statements
and those of less creative and radical men. Although few went
so far as to proclaim in the journals the sublime moral
independence of the artist, many critics were advising their
readers that it was not only literary and dramatic subjects
in painting that influenced minds and morals.
There was little consistent distinction between the terms
"literary", dramatic" and "pictorial" in discussions of new
paintings. In October 1603 a note accompanying Albert Moore's
Midsummer suggested how the artist had freed himself from the
"literary" tradition;
the dramatic movement of human life is not
necessarily literary. It makes appeal to the
eyes with a pictorial simplicity, and with all
the more simplicity as the people among whom
it passes are nationally too young to be
literary.
The Art-Journal's anonymous contributor claims Moore's paintings
had been for some time "the medicine of a distinct ill" -
the confusion of the arts that existed so long in England and
the general neglect of their boundaries" (n.s.VIII (IPP.fi) 317)
No attempt is made to define the terms, and the writer's
distaste for the confusion of the arts does not squr.re with
that important tenet of the Aesthetes, that musical terminolo j
can be used in talking of graphic art and literature. The
claim that some freedom has been newly granted to the painter
is, however, significant. Similarly, an unattributed reviev;
of Watt's work claimed in 1882 that his effectiveness was
independent of literary criteria and inspiration:
He is absolutely and remarkably consistent,
insomuch as his choice, however wiOe, is strictly
confined within the limits of pictorial art; he
does not wander into literary interests, shoi/iir:
in this reserve that judgement as to the
distinctions of the arts v/hich marks the artist
of thought and culture.
This does not c^mit of the possibility that a painter oi.;ht
depict some vis--ionary narrative, and the ten:, pictorial"
is used vaguely. The new tendency is seen as an abstention
frora literary traditions, rather tlian a novel freedom. The
writer concludes by suggesting tlr^t Watt's other principal
activity, portraiture,

is of cource and obviously removed from every
adventitious literary interest, the power of
portraiture depending upon the impression.
'(The Art-Journal, n.s.II (1882)
61-2)
Not tir't the portrait painter was an entirely free agent:
N.Garstein, writing two years later in the same journal,
found among the work of the late Edouard Manet,
pictures that seom like portraits without the
raison d'etre of portraiture, and whose
personality is often ae unpleasant as its
colour.
By failing in his selection of sitters, and by various other
sins of omission and commission, wrote Garstein, Manet had
forfeited greatness: "it is hardly possible that posterity
will accept him as a great painter" (n.s. IV (1884) 109-111;
p.lll).
More comprehensive attempts to unfold the mysteries
governing the distinctions between the arts met with little
success. The appearance in 1882 of Bossetti's collection of
Ballads and Sonnets and of Pygmalion, a poem by the Pre-
Raphaelite sculptor Thomas Woolner, prompted Alice Meynell
to a sustained effort of aesthetic theorizing. "The Brush,
the Chisel and the Pen", in The .Art-Journal, considered the
painterly quality of Rossetti*s verse and the sculptoresque
preoccupations of Woolner. Her most pregnant remarks concern
the act of meditation:
Art gains by faithful and restrained respect
to its own methods, and thic is true of the
separate and distinct arts, and also of the
separate branches of one art; that is to say,
painting and letters g£iin in power by studying,
the former the irrnression, and the latter the
thought; and the art of sculpture gains by a
strict adherence not only to the possibilities,
but to the fine properties of its material, -
bronze, or marble, or stone.
(n.s. II (1882) 05-7; p.85)
This has an attractive air of plrunibility, but the distinction
between "impression" and "thought" is weak and uncle r: the
critic appears to be placing the forn:r in a lor/or position on
tiie intellectual scale than the latter, and surest ing that
oculptor^ are able to provide only representations of the
objects upon which the literary intellect might brood and form
impressions: In Vhe Portfolio William oliarp clainod in his
article "D.^. Rocsetti and Pictorialism in Verr.;e" th; t there

8
are tliingr- .vhicli poets can Co ana painters Ccmiot. The poet
;ju:~ ,o&ts a picture to the- reader's mind in a Te>.; words, and
can jju^ est sounds. Those ./ho cannot rioe to tlie poet's
communications must make do with the clunGior art of the
painter:
Imagination not being a prevailing possession
aniongct men and women, a pictorial scene, from
nature naturally appeals nuch more quickly
and directly to many people than even ulu. most
exquisite poeti?r,l description.
(XIII (1882) 176-180; p,177)
This is hard on the painters, but there was no lack of
sympathetic literary men who knew ways in which their
pictorial colleagues might reach a wider public*writing in
Fraser*s Magazine for June, 1880, J.C.Horsfall suggested that
the poverty of the common stock of knowledge amongst British
people was hindering painters, who were forced to the expedient
of attaching long literary quotations to the frfunes of their
workc, and inserting copious explanations in exhibition
catalogues, io:/.3, it seemed, giving up the struggle, had taken
refuge in tue extremes of banality and pedantry, insulting
or confounding the intelligence of their public. Curiously,
Horsfall stumbles upon the theories of the availt- r;arc!.e;
So difficult is it to find fit subjects t'r,t,
in despair, the theory lias boon adopted that
there need not be - that, indeed, there ought
not to be, any connection between a picture
and a memorable thought and fec-lingj juct as,
if few fit subjects for poetry could bo found,
the theory would soon be established th=».t ;rcat
verue consists in fine rhytii;.! and rhyne, anc that
moaning is an impertinent superfluity.
He evidently couates "liter; ry" quality with "memorable
7
thought and feeling" «
This yearning for the i.icnora.jlc leuds Horsx", 11 to prop, s^
the didacticism of rdd-century p inters as en ideal, and his
concept of art as an ennobling and civilising force seenc
indebted to Ruskin and Arnold, 'is solution for the problem
of "literary" painting is to c;ive books to the public, rat'.ier
than take them from artists: the Renaissance artists could
assunc a stock of Catholic legend and knowledge in their
E'.uciience, but now pictori 1 art must cleave to "the only r.ll:;
she can have today, noble literrture". Conservatisn of a

similar kind sought for the restoration of the status quo
which obtained before the Pre-Ranhaelite movement. In "The
Old Gyr. tern of Art-Culture and the Nev;" W.Oave Thomas inveighed
against realism:
How many a life work has been marred, cribbed,
cabined, and confined for want of a stimulus oO
grand world The tendency of Art of late years
has been dovm! Town! from uincl to matter. It is
the presence o± thought, of ideas, which exalts
s innocent in themselves,
but of no great account; to beauties which are
not overlooked by tLe higher culture; but are
re'^.rdecl only in relation to greater. The
rendering of the poetry of thought or the facts
of history is humanly of far greater import
than tile exact imitation of the dovm of a peacli
or of every filament in a bird's nest.
(The Art-Journal,XIX (1880) 373-5;
p. 375)
,,ritten twenty years later, this might have seemed an
unskilful defence of Impressionism, but in i860 it was
recognisably a truculent suggestion that the Pre-Raphaelite
rot had set in. For Thomas "poetry", so far as it concerns
the winter, is confined to the depiction of men enjoyiirj
and arousinr in others, nobility of reflection. His r-u?.rrol
v;ith the moderns is with their lack of ethic;.! loftiness,
and more immediately with ainute realism of detail. 'lis
ideal, noble artist embraces ethical ( a.nd per:i -os li-'sr^ry)
subject-natter, ana despises realism: he is a figure offered
up as a rival to the contemporary r.rtist.
The major conservative champion v/as, ni^vertlicloss,
^uekininr. mm, reekin;; sublimity in rictori 1 accuracy of
dot^il anc1 striving to present no.n anc" nntiore in moments of
tellin r; cnotionn.l an." physical cricis. Val Princes, ^..R. 1 .,
\vho Iir.d participated vit^ Worris n.nc 1. Rossetti in the paint:." ^
of the Oxford Union f.riese, offoreu the ideal of the
conservative painter to pupils of the St. Martin*G school of
Art r.-t their prise^iving in 1^01. He wc.rnod them against
eccentricity:
.lie greatest jeniaoes have bocn -:lie .iinnljot
men." ohakospeare lived, dressed, and :.iov?d
much as other people of his day; R; pliael was
the rim;-lost and "bc.-t lov-'= of men;

10
was the friond of every little child he knew.
And these great men, and many more I could
mention, are tlioso who nifjM properly "bo
called Aesthetes, professors of the science
of the beautiful, expounders of the beauties
of nature - that nature that lives and sparkles
around us, with grief in it no doubt, and
diser.se and death, but hope at all tiinys, rind
uore joy, I venture to think, J:han grief. Let
us t.ion, be follov/ers of true aestheticism -
professors of beauty, hoa.luny and sound,
without eccentricity.
(:;AH. Portfolio, XIII (1882) ?3).
Prinuep does not disclose the process v/hereby his commonplace,
smug Ji .'.eke spear e came to write Measure for Measure, or Troilus
and Cregsidcu The lucky students were favoured the following
year with an address by Philip Hermogenes Calderon, ii.A. , whoae
effort appeared in Art-Journal under the title "Affectation in
Art", Shakespeare here serves to illustrate the great British
virtue :
the greater the genius, the greater the conation
sense. No poet ever posse :seci a more imaginative
fancy than your own Shakespeare, and nowhere has
ho been more lavish of it than in his two plays
of The Tempest and Hid summer Night's Dream; but
;rantir-i; the possible' ' existence of such creatures
as Ariel or the little folk who play in and out
among the ferns around their fairy queen - you
will find that all their actions are perfectly
sensible, and are always the result of whcit has
happened before. (n^ m (1SR3)
After this fashion the poetry critic of The Illustrated Lci'don
iJGws rcainded literary aspirants in 1885 tint all our c^eat
poets, Chaucer, Spenser, rilton and Shakespeare "have been men
of ai'i'airs, men possessing that sound common sense which is
the nride of ii.ivrlish./ien 11 ( r!Poetry as cin Art", 3 October, 1885).
iiaturu in such ar/T^neiits is al'.voys something ideal and sensible
which only fleshly, morbid realists insist on seeing awry - ±10
the man endowed with common-sense, .11 is beautiful and hopeful,
and even the fairies lurkinr; in the ferns arc- reorronable
beings v/hose sense of the picturesque is v/ell under control.
The II 1 - u: trated London News warned its readers ag£ inst the
eccentricities of some contemporary artists and poets:
Hot content with ;.;oin,^ to ifature, which is as
full of youth ancl inspiration today c.s it was

11
in the earliest dawn of literature, they attempt
to grin the public ear by something strange and
startling.
Aspirants to fame who ignore this counsel are likely to end
up writing like Zola, or - a strange example of morbidity -
Feydeau.
The critics quoted in the preceding paragraph are symptomatic
of a tendency described by J.Comyns Carr, prominent as
an art-journalist and as an "adviser" to Henry Irving* In an
intelligent and perceptive appraisal of Rossetti's oeuvre,
published in Carr's English Illustrated Magazine soon after
the painter's death, he compared English attitudes to literature
with opinions on art:
Men who can read Keats without any violent
shock to their commonsense, and who v/ill
follow the genius of Shelley in its most aerial
flights, have scarce any faith left for the
artist who seeks to arouse a kindred emotion
by the means proper to painting. They will even
doubt tlipt he himself has any true belief in
Iiis own creation, so strange to the temper
of our time is all art that does not found itself
on direct portraiture, or on the little drama of
everyday life.
(I (1883) 38).
Garr claims th vfc Rossetti*s earlier work began from the desire
to present ideal and abstract values of composition and line,
and accomodated "nature" to suit these values: a process he
identifies as "poetic". Against this he sets the later work,
taking as an example Lady Lilith (1864) which "starts from
the conception of portraiture, and the ideal suggestion...
only follows, and does not directly inspire, the reality",
i-iossetti "was a poet to the end of his days", but cane to
terms, in the course of his career, v;ith nature:
Some of the noblest painting that rem-ins to us
is frankly founded upon the direct and sin-le
observation of human character, or the beauty of
the outride world, and it therefore implies no
reproach against a painter that he should elect
in later life to put aside the fpnciful ideas
the t had tempt e;- the vision of a boy.
In attempting to adjust "noetic" (in a sense, literary) vclues
again?: t "Painterly" ones, Carr Arrives at a definition of terms
that has mor* sophistication than Prinsep or Calderon or The
Illustrated iioadon : OWE could offer. He also attenrots a

12
definition of maturity in art which seemed important at a time
of resistance to younger, "eccentric" men. In order to do so
he involves himself in the argument of "idealism" against
"realism", that constituted the second major point of debate
in the eighteen-eighties.
ii. Idealism and realistic detail*
To those seeking a revaluation of the Pre-Raphaelite achievement
for praise or blame - the movement's emphasis upon
accuracy of natural detail was as much a part of its literary
affinities as its selection of poignant humpn situations^
its use of "narrative" subject matter* In The Magazine of Art
Cosmo Monkhouse reviewed an exhibition of Pre-Raphe&lite
paintings held in the Autumn of 188?. In discussion jf "literary"
values, not only Tennyson's "abstruse" thought and his pathos
but his painstaking natural detail find a place:
Art for the first time in our memory was promising
to catch up and keep pace v/ith literature. -Ye had
mastered - at least some of us had - our abstruse
Tennyson, and gr^-opled with our cryptic Browning;
Carlyle and Kings ley were moving us to worship
heroes and labour; but our art lingered with Young
and Crabbe, with Doctor Johnson and Mrs. ilemans*
Study of nature with holy humility, the jo^pel of
hard work preached with the paintbrush, revolt
against falsehood and convention - these were but
parts of a movement which seemed not only an
innovation but a creed* Of course it did but seen;
for we know now - or if we do not, it is not for
want of telling - that work is an unmitigated evil,
thr.t "purpose" destroys art, that Carlyle v/as dyspeptic
and Kin. ;3ley no match for Cardinal Newman. But the
dreams were not only pleasant but noble*
("A Pre-fianhr. elite Collection",V (1.882)
62-8; p*63)*
Monkhouse adds that it is not easy "to forget the days when we
first saw Tennyson not only in print but in paint"* The
Tennysonian qualities are enumerated in 1881, in Andrew Lang's
catalogue to an exhibition of IJillais 1 vork. This painter v;as
a Pre-Raphaelite who h-^.A matured and cr^t off t^e reli-ious
and accetic devotion to bctract v lues of ideal form and
become absorbed into the artistic Establishment* Lang describes
hin as he had boen in the early days of his eminence:
Tis art had very auch the nualities of Fr.
Tennyson's early poetry. It was felt to be
strange, anC v/as,therefore, an offence to

13
all conventional circles. It was me:riced toy the
distinction of n serious and laborious ambition,
reposing on ideas which \vore new, and more or less
original. The minuteness of finish was a kind of
reproach to older and Ic-s careful artists, who
relied on swiftness of glance and "m; oterly"
rapidity oi' touch. Lastly Mr Llillais 1 earlier
works were informed with a sentiment, v/hich
puzzled people incapable of sentiment, and were
marked by a respect for the early Italian painters,
and for the religion and art of a time then
generally known as the "Dark Ages".11
Detail and minuteness of finish were seen as the expression of
a "literary 11 temperament when Holman Hunt exhibited The Triunr b.
of t'l.o Innocents in 1885: Hunt hr.d remained faithful to the
Brotherhood, ir. his fashion. Great ingenuity wrs dhov/n by the
artist, who represented the holy fpjnily fleeing Herod's edict,
accompanied on their journey by the spirits of the slaughtered
Innocents - happy and unusually well-developed infants. Strange
soap-bubbles float across the composition, bearing in then
reflections of the scene depicted. A critic in The Magazine
of Art objected to the recondite eyn^olisra, and the learning
displayed in the depiction of natural detail:
Vie expected a picture. v;iiat we found was... a
confused but earnest and honourable achievement
in literature, expressed in the most strenuous
tr.rr.is, .vith a patience, a Ir.boriousness, a determination
of symbolical intention worthy of all
respect*
(VIII (1085) xxii).
Conservative taste of the eighteen-fifties had reproached the
Brotherhood and its associates of overworked detr.il and neglect
of the cubliiae. The same arguments were being used in the
eighteen-ei^ ties against the French avant-garde. V>.Stephens
complained in 1885 of Hunt's new work:
The Virgin, who ougl. t to have been beautiful,
?'nd ir.ight have been young, is neither one nor
tho other, but simply a bold matroii of lo-rco
proportions anrt a pretentious air.
(The Portfolio y XVl"(l885) CO-2; p.82)»
i'v/o years earlier, the same journal carried on anonymous
review of !i tv:elve well-known French artir ts" exhibiting at
tiio Dudley Gallery. Amongst them w;is Rodin:
i'here is the nude, coloured plaster of ot.John
tho Baptist, nDJellcil by M.Ro-liii, ,vith cieriant

14
realism of chin coarsened by exposure nnc. body
worn by ascetic austerities, a powerful but
disagreeable stuo.y without prophetic oicnity.
(IT" (1333) 145).
In L. n.°; f s "i.illais catalogue it is uiaimed that "in the collection
of his paintings now exhibited, we see him shake off tho
fallacy that the ua-ly ou^ht to be selected by the artist " t and
that i'illais 1 Cleopatra had been "a stout, dusky person, the
shortness or length of whose nose would never have troubled
the peace of ancient Europe". Long's moot extended comment
on the lack of idealism and pre; onderance of realism in the
earlier v.ork is his discussion of TheL Woodman's Daughter,
painted in 1850 and exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1851.
In it he sees "the Pre-Raphaelite seriousness and laboriousneos,
and the determination to go straight to nature":
i.Vith this determination they cultivated the
theory th t what is common in nature is good
enough for art. Do not select faces or scenes
of unusual and abnormal beauty, they say, but
draw and paint such tilings as are set before
jou. It is unnecerjcary, perhaps, to oh^erve tliat
this theory leads to a practical fallacy, namely
the neglect of the beautiful.
The little girl is, to Lang, "unnecessarily >lc.in and uninteresting",
and Millais "must have gone a little out of his way"
to find so "uninviting" a model:
In the same spirit, Wordsworth, when he r;as t^e
slave of his o.m ir.eas, deformed his poo", .-y with
lines about
A household tub like one of those
.laich women use to wash their clothes.
Pre-Rp,phaelitism was always bringing in the
household tub. 1?
A yerrriin 7'; for the settled lov/s of sublimity is shf?,

and in Gothic times":
In tho;:e tii-ioc, as :ri antique Greece, ornar.r.:nt
of every kinci subserved the function for .liich
it '.-v.s intended, and, beinr- at once logical raid
obei'i^nt, triurpV.ed in freedom where it was
apparently most restricted.
(i.'ir E.Burne-Jones, A.a.A., as a Decorative
Artict", XX (10"9) 214-9; p.215).
15
In a lecture delivered the same year, William Morris had
distinguished Gothic from Greek principles of unity:
For the iron rule of the classical period,
the acknowledged slavery of every one but
tJie great man hi.d gone, and freedom had t.-lcon
its place; but harmonious freedom. Subordination
of effect, not uniforroity of Go tail j true and
necesrary subordination, rot pedantic.-,,
The element of the Pre-Raphaelite theory which called for
stylised comosition had survived - its effects can be seen
most clearly in portraiture - but the accurate copying of
nature to provide decorative elements was being questioned.
There was, understandably, some confusion between the conservative
theory of detail subordinated to form, and the Impressionist
theory of natural phenomena subordinated to (or d

Illustration 1 (a) Following p.15
Natural detail in a Pre-Raphaelite
painting - Hughes,Ap-il Love (1856).

Illustration 1 (b)
Hughes, April Love
hand corner.
detail of lower left-
Following p.15

Illustration 2 (a) Following p.15
Natural detail:"almost impressionary
delicacy" - Waterhouse.The Lady of
Shalott (1888).

Illust ation 2 (b)
Wate timiBe T The Lady of Shalott
of lower left-hand corner.
detail
Following p.15

16
...painting merely what he saw,
According to the latest law,
Of values and of tones,
He made me, much to my amaze,
A thing whereon the public gaze,
And mock me for the nones.
I am the Lady of Shalott,
And if they tell you I am not,
I say but this one thing,
That here be "values" rare and quaint,
And goodly "quality of paint"
And "workman-like handling".
15
New, more abstract, terms of appraisal had been found for a
manner which to some critics seemed simply a deviation from
the discoveries of mid-century painters.
Apart from "listler and Burae Jones, the most respected
of the English contemporaries were Albert Moore and Alma-
Tadeina, both remarkable for what might be called "non-ethical"
classicism. Watts retained a penchant for "ethical" subjectmatter,
though developing an un realistic technique, and Hunt
v/a.s adhering to his mid century faith, Millais had becorac
res actable. Perhaps it was the reticence of Moore that made
him more difficult to deal with than the flamboyantly bohemian
Whistler. His pictures had the qualities of line and compocition
associated with "ethical" classicism, a precision of detail
and finish suggestive of Pre-Raphaelitism, and a total lack of
literary or "ethical content" v/liich defied clarification. A
v;riter in The Art-Journal attempted to account for I.'io ore's
appeal by reference to Japanese as well as Classical European
influences:
Mis art is in intention purely decorative,
and has for the mark of its achievement the
production of v;hat may. be described as ideal
realism. Its principal characteristics are
an incomparable feeling for the relations of
faint, bright, delicate colours, and an
admirable sense of symmetry in resign...
The first is identified v/ith Japanese, the second v:ith Greek
art, from which Moore has learned,
the uses of serenity, the charm of dignity and
repose, the worth of beauty that is uniiapassioned,
and the potency of a ri.^ht combination of quiet
and hnnnonious lines.
(n.s. I (1881) 163-4).

17
Moore's independence took him to come strange lengths, producing
potentially surrealistic effects: Quartette shows a group of
demure and classically attired musicians performing before a
group of thoughtful onlookers, but the musical instruments
are moo era.
Alma-Tadema, a Dutch artist who had settled in England,
was the -most -eminent of the painters who used classical
themes and settings. Like Moore he eschewed the conventionally
"significant" scenes and literary subjects of earlier neoclassicist
painters (David, for example) and gave his men and
women an ideality unconnected with moral dignity. Reviewing
the retrospective of Tadema's paintings at the Grosvenor
Gallery, an anonymous columnist in Art and Letters claimed in
1883 thr.t the painter "found the courage to give the characters
of the classic age the common attributes of humanity":
A classic subject had hitherto been held to
demand from the artist the higher qualities of
style in the treatment of the human f ^m. Events
of history , in themselves devoid of poetical
suggestion, have been handled vdth the reverence
due to ideal themes, and though now and then the
power of the individual artist had availed to
secure a design of exceptional beauty, the
result as a rule has only the dull virtue of
an academic study.
The critic suggests how Alma-Tadema has broken with the old
classicism:
He does not affect to grant the forms with
v/hich he peoples the scenes of history the
abstract character and id< al beauty that belong
to the creations of ancient art. He selects
his various types with the instinct of a dramatist
who seoks to illustrate an epoch and not to
ennoble it... we are made to feel that the distinctions
that divi'-.e the ancient and modern world are
of less moment than the enduring attributes and the
uHCiian^irr; occupations of daily life by which tlicy
are united,
(II (1883) 121-2).
In a sense, Alma-Tadema adopted the realism in Pre-Raphaelite
painting - the realism which Hunt employed in depicting
the Virgin as a "bold matron" - but had refrained from using
it to emphasize the immediacy of an ethically significant
subject. Pro-capheelite realism was used to ^ive a vivid,
sometimes startling effect to subjects of great importance -
this part of their inheritance from -iotto caused great offence

18
in Hunt's painting of Chriat in the carpenter's shop. Alma-
'xaderaa's realism emphasized the insignificance of the events
in his idyllic paintings, rather than the responsibilities
of recognition.
iii. "Ideal" and "idyllic" art.
Walter Pater published Marius the Epicurean in 1885, his
first book since the revised edition of The Renaissance
a :pcared in 1877. Its form is not so much tht;t of a novel
as of a series of situations which provoke the hero's selfexamination:
indeed, the situations are endowed with so little
narrative tension as to become tableaux vivants, which reviewers
discussed in terms of painting. In The Academy J.M.Gray
observed that the feast in honour of Apuleius (Book IV,
chapter 22) was
a very Tadema in its perfection of finish, in
its legitimate and artist-like use of archaeological
knowledge for the purposes of mere
present beautyj a Tadema, too, in its delightful
preoccupation with the lovely detailr of
precious objects of still-life, with the "togas
of altogether lost hue and texture", the "crystal
cups darkened with old wine", and "the dusky fires
of the rare twelve petailed roses".
Despite his appreciation of the ..ritcr-p: inter's skill, Gray
feels the necessity of objecting to its preference for
illustration over ennoblement:
It may, indeed, afford a healthful corrective
to ninny crude and unlovely tendencies of modern
thought. In a mood of wise eclecticism we mr.y
receive much from it, may linger for a ' liile in
its charmed and golden, though ennerv-.ting air;
but if we would preserve our spiritual heelth
v/e must press on upwards and breathe the more
bracing atmosphere of sterner upland nieces.
(21 March 1?85)
Pater makes it quite clear that his eclecticism is an attempt
to "keep the eye clear by a sort of exquisite personal alacrity
and cleanliness", of which Grry found it hard to disapprove -
it extends, he adds, "even to his dwelling place", r.ut his
distrust of this as a means to moral improvement is evident:
a distrust shared by many of Pater's contemporaries. John
Morley reviewing The Renaissance in id?3 for The fortnightly
Review feared a tendency which wae bringing readers "back to

19
fetishism and the worship of little household gods". He
welcomed Pater's independent spirit:
He has no design of interfering with the
minor or ^ajor morals of the world, but
only of dealing with what we may perhn-ps
cnll the accentuating portion of life.
Some justification could be found for this controlled and
purposeful escapism:
The speculative distractions of the epoch
are noisy and multitudinous, e.nri the first
effort of the serious spirit rnu°t be to
disengage itself from the futile hubbub
which is sedulously maintained by the bodies
of rival partisans in philosophy and philosophical
theology. This effort after
detachment naturally takes the form of
criticism of the r>pst, the only way in which
a man can take part in the discussion and
propagation of ideas, while yet standing in
some sort of aloof from the agitation of
the present.
(";:r Pater's Essays", n.s. XIII (1873)
475).
This accomodates Pater with the view of classical studi es put
forward by Arnold, by which "commerce with the ancients" is
held to produce in writers "a steadying and composing effect
upon their judgement, not of literary works only, but of men
and events in general". Arnold had nro posed as a model ;< the
plain and simple Droceedings of the old artists" who
attained their ,

Representaive of contemporary attitudes to "the
accentuating portion of life" in painting is .Frederick
.Vedmore's The Masters of Genre Painting published in 1880.
This kind of art, he writes,
records, not the rare events which stated history
chronicles, but the repeated incidents which we
know to be events too. It quickens our senses
to the spectacle, in actual life, not of a sensation
scene, but of every-day drama.,«
Such ;;ork is produced in societies "compact and settled and
highly civilized..., not so large as to be very various" and
at tiucs "when men's minds were little distracted either by
political movement or religious aspiration". In such times a: .1
places the masters of genre thrive:
No overpowering thought of larger issues - of
a future, of another world, of a different society
- must hang over him as he records our moods and
manners and gains his revelation into the permanent
character by the accidents of the passing minute.
Such were "the staid and quiet world of our earlier Georges",
Holland in the seventeenth century, and "the lighter society
of France"^-9. Such a view of rrt and its social background
begs many questions, and V/edmore deals v.dth Hogarth as a genre
paintc-r despite his didacticism and the quasi-litersry form
of much of his work. But he does offer an account of the
periods of history in which Aestheticism delighted. Almost any
aristocracy v/oulc' serve, and the "staid and quiet" seventeenhundreds
./ore extended to include the rest of the eighteenth
century and the Regency. Some writings of the nic-century had
used the same ;oeriods - '//itness Th^ckerr-y's Henry l]grnond,
Bu.l'vor Lytton's j^SL k"igJL I^.ys^ of Pompeii, or Dickens' tendency
to set his novels (notably David Gopperfield) in the days of
his childhood, tfow bhe intention and selection \-;cvo different:
-"arius J^e^gnicurean o c.vcs more to the exoticism of Flaubert's
SalaV.abo than it does to Lytton's earnest depiction of c^.rly
Christianity. Patei- Oid not ;:hnre Flaubert's interect in
immorality and aberration, but he cultivated tho instinct for
tell in,"; an..i exquisite detail v/ith v-liich the j'rcuch iovelint
liL'.d described Cortlvge*
Although one very ii.i jortant element of the no.; Aesthetic ism
conc:iscua in the rejection of -oiioto^rapliic re.".lism, it is
evident^in some cases accuracy of archaeolo :icol detail was

21
felt to be essential in evoking the "repeated incidents"
v;liio:i Wedmoro proposes as proper subjec j for genre paint:".i
It was as though Pre-Raphaelitisra had be< H fragmented - from
whatever am agam of several distinct painting techniques it may
be said to represent - and divided into two schools. On the one
hand, some artists rejected realism and the depiction of nature-
Beardsley's nature work may sarve as an example. Others sought
to achieve a scholarly but untendentious acquaintance with the
minutiae of past ages - notable among these were Alma-Tadema,
Moore, and the pen-and-ink illustrator, Hugh The: son.
Thomson's first major commissions came from Comyns Carr's
nev; 'foolish Illustrated Magazine, which began publication in
October 1883. His work at first included some modern subjects,
and he provided competent illustrations for articles on
contemporary London life and for Henry Arthur Jones's "The
Dranatic Outlook" (II (1885) 280-9 and 341-352). Soon he
established himself as an illustrator of eighteenth century
subjects, with an edition of Addison's Sir Roger de Coverley
papers from The Spectator (first published in *rae_ ^English
Illustrated Magazine in 1884-6, and reprinted as a book in 1886).
lie meticulous and, for the most part, unsentinontal view of
the eighteenth century had some affinities with the somewhat
sacLarriiic iclyllc of Kate Crcenawcvy, and v/ith Kclph Ualdecott 's
more substantial drawings - his John Gilpin appeared in lo?8.
A representative account of the appeal of the period chosen by
Thomson, Caldecott and Kate Grreonciv/ay is that rp.von by an
anonymous writer in Art and otters, describing G.H.Bou&rton'c
painting £iiow in spring t_
Among a group of artists who love to study the
manners of the past in order t!^ it they may escape
from the tyranny of trie? present Mr bought on holds
a prominent _~1 ce. v'vith Lueh men it is not to much
the passion of the archaeologist aa t'.>o desire for
freedom that carries thorn back to t.h

22
paintin ;c, diJ. ob,:r>rvc ijoao dogroc of arcliaoolog:LCc~:,l discipline,
an-?. refrains 0. from clr.imin^ blio liberty cu^-estc-d in t^is aoovo
account of Broughton's printinc ( a piece of unrivalled
insipidity). Others took a more significant liberty, to describe
what they saw in the manner they considered appropriate, or
to develop techniques which would enable them to express on
canvas n,nd rrper the darker, libidinous forces controlling
their view of the outside world. In so far r s the Pre-Raphaelites
endorsed the stylisation of nature according to religious
vision, they made way for the graphic expression of such less
"acceptable" visions as Beardsley*s illustrations to idioms".
In this respect their influence survived, in v.h it John Dixon
Hunt has called "a continuity of admiration" 20 .
iv* Dress and furniture*
In conclusion, it is important to note the manner in which
the A-esthetes* consciousness of their advance from uiid-century
tastes showed itself in attit-les to-.yards the minutiae of
contemporary everyday life.
..ilde, defending Ths^Picture of Dorian Gray in a letter
to The Daily Chronicle, tiug'-cctec' in 1890 that the moral
independence of tiie decade had bf.cn reflected in "certain
colours'*:
subtle in their loveliness snC- fascimrtin:^ in
their almost mystical tones. Ihc-y v;ere, nm". are,
our reaction against the crude pri' varies of r.
doubtless more rospectr.ble but certainly less
cultivated -'.fie, isy tVory is an es-ay on
riecor^.tive art. It react a a^r.in.vt tlio cinide
brutality of plain rec.lie -. It is poisonous
if you li!:e, bxit you ccmiioo deny -oliat it io
also -,-crfoct, c.^iC. perfection irj \v.i-?t i-e ca"ti;jt;j
air: ^t. r

23
the now movement was advocated ac an aid to health; a wviter
in Hie Magazine of Art prepared in 1182 a revolt against "the
tyranny of tlie aodijjt. , whose chief idea is to put as much
material as peccable into a female garment without regard to
convenience or health" ("Fitness and Fashion", V (1882) 336-9).
Certain concessions to decorum had to be made, and I'rc Haweis
in The Art-Jo'.irrir.l, after extolling Greek concern for the
natural lines of the body, reminded her readers:
It is not needful to follov: the ciicpe of
the body servilely, otherv/ioe, one would have
to make "tights" the beau ideal of drees; and
this ,/ould properly not be dress at all, as it
would add r.o thing to nature which dress, v/ith
its contributions of light and Lhadoiv, colour
and texture, is certainly expected to do*
("The Aesthetics of Dress", n.s. XIX
(1880) 137-9; P. 137).
Dress figured .rondr.entl;/ in the galleries of the Health
Exhibition held at South I'enr.in^ton in 1C84, and lecturers in
the ;:rMbition commented on the healthful aspects of the
22
freedom modem v.oncn e: 3rcised in their choice of costume.
,/ilde's lectures and pronouncements on dress, delivered for
the most part during the earlier years of the decade, also
proofed, reform on hygeinie us "oil as aesthetic grounds.
In furniture design and interior decoration the leading
talents ncro S.'.V.Gocl-viii and .liistler. The latter »s advocacy
of plain, IvrMonious colour in wall decoration VMS a reaction
against the patt^rno: wallpapers of jorris's deni ; Viy. His ovm
houL-e, i'hs . Uite House, buil jj in .1877-8, v/ns low, threestoreyed,
siaple in ornr::ient"and r-^,:r':,',ble for
ri:he ^'iTite brie.:-, of the walls, tie {;rcen slate of
the roof, the ctone frcin,.-, ^o "blue -loor and
The ,.e:,i.^- and iurnicliin^s of the building V/GIO "by E. V. Godwin,
whom the r.rti^'t act in 1G63* A scheme for rr D'Oyly Carte's
home in A< el;;.hi Terrace had a llTht pin- staircase, and a
yellov; library witii /-reen v.oodv/orl;. Lady Archib lo Campbell,
another of ,histler»s clients, described his --inci^les as
"scicntii'ic":
...to Produce h-raonlouc; effects in lino and
colour' -Duping, tiio .hole r'-':n or ;:cao^c ^.oulr,
h&v- to'be f-iorourjiily taou-.'it oat so as to be
finished boforr. it r^s practically be^un.^,

24
The plain colours of the distempered walls should display, not
compete with, the paintings and furniture, and .hie tier extended
his supervision of the execution even to the mixing of p..iats.
Godwin, who made designs for V.histler and for ,/ilde's
new home in Tice Street (in 1384), had arrived at his mode
of furniture design as a means of avoiding both commercially
available items, and tiie products of the Arts and Crafts
movement. 1 ' 4 ' In 1876 he described the difficulties ho had
encountered when furnishing his London home in 136?:
-.iucli effects as I wanted, I endeavoured to gain
as in economical building, ty the grouping of
solid and void, and by more or less broken
outline,
This led him to a cultivation 01 abstract line and fom in
cabinet-making which, like .histler's painting and decorative
art, owed much to the Japanese example* "in a period when
cabinet-making v;as rynonymour with elaborate carving and
gilding, and even the advanced work of l.Torris, Faulkner and
Company was elaborately peinted" 2 ^. jn 1869 EkJ.Poynter
suggested a causal con: ection between furniture design and
econom.cs. His argument resembled that of Morris - aan Iiad
progressed not from one kind of honest design. to another,
but from honesty to sham:
It is indeed the dread of appearing not to be able
to afford handsome tilings which is at the bottom
of the general decline of good work, ah.ich we find
surrounding; us on ^11 cid.es. It is, combined v.dth
...the desire of rapidly ra Jcinf: fortunes, the root
of all that ±:, bad and chaia in art about
Poynter was not alone in this corral int, nor was it confined
to art critics - in XV.-Q -:ort of liio ^r.^xir; -nt ho was able to
cite J'iclcens 1 descri" tiort of ^r Po

25
the wrong effect in a room, where his eye required "a resting
place of pure colour" 2 . For the medicevalism that inspired
Morris's designs and politics the new movement substituted
an interest in classical, Renaissance amd Augustan art -
rediscovering the antique and its previous rediccoverers. These
periods were now interpreted as times of repose, idyllic
unconcern with great problems of state and ethics, and quasiaristocratic
ease: a view which has been exemplified above
from vVedmore's essays on genre painting. A new purity of line
and colour was being substituted for the achievement of midcentury
reformers.
At first sight the reaction against Pre-Raphaelitism that took
place in the late 'seventies and 'eighties appears to have
embraced again the views of those who spoke against the
novement at its inception. Tr. John Brown, one of the more
thoughtful opponents of the Brotherhood's methods, described
The Light of the ,/orld in 1862 in tanas suggestive of Later
reactions to The Triumph of the Innocent st
The faults of the picture as a work of art are,
like its virtues, those of its school - imitation
is sometimes mistaken for representation. There
is a want of unity, breadth and spaciousness
of nature about the landscape, as if the painter
had looked v/ith one eye shut, and thus lost the
stereoscopic effect of reality - the solidarity
of binocular vision; this gives a displeasing
flatness. It is too full of astonishing bits,
as if it had been looked at, as well as -v inted,
Brown evidently feels that the grandeur of the subject has
been forfeited to exactitude of detail - a Romantic idea of
the spiritual impact of nature lr< been lost in the v;ork of
the new school. Criticicn of the Brotherhood in these terns
can be compared ,1th one of the definitions proposed by ».W*
Hobson, in an important tv/entio th-c entury essay on ?re-
Haphaelite poetry: "a care for finish of style and ~>olish of
phrasing takes the place of a scrupulous effort at definition
of "^
Another glfiice at the 1P85 discuo:donr. of Hunt's painting,
or at Lang's Millais catalogue of 1081 shows that the new

26
movement of the 'eighties was reacting against an excess,
rather than a paucity of meaning in the pictures. In its
crudest expression, the view of the eighteen-eighties seems to
have been that vague and probably dishonest "meanings" had been
superceded by precise, honest but obtrusive "meanings". Art
was now to be further revolutionised by the denial of any
"meaning" at all. Morris had given wallpaper good, pleasant
patterns, founded in observation of nature, and now men were
to devote their walls to sympathetic but uninsistent distempers.
Arthur Symons, writing on ..histler after the artist's death,
attempted to summarize the achieveroc its of the past thirty
years, from 1873 to 1903:
One of the first truths of art has needed to be
discovered in these times, though it has been
put into practice by every grerrt artist, and has
only been seriously denied by scientific persons
and the inept. It has taken new names, and calls
itself now "Symbolism", now "Impressionism"; but
it has a single thing to say, under many forms;
that p,rt must never be a statement, always an
evocation.,.

27
Chapter Two
SHAKESPEARE CRITICISM.

28
The most important English contributions to Shakespeare
criticism of the decade were those of Swinburne, Wilde, Pater
and Helen Faucit. Wilde and Helen Paucit concerned themselves
directly with the stage, and Swinburne published a semibiographical
(but mostly inspirational) study of Shakespeare,
whilst Pater's brief studies offered the most radical
interpretations. Dowden's Shakespeare: A Critical Study of his
Mind and Art had appeared in 1875, followed by a more schematic
"Primer" in 1877: his edition of the Sonnets and his two
biographical essays for The Henry Irvring Shakespeare appeared
in 1881 and 1888 respectively. The biographical interpretation
proposed by Dowden was imaginative without being unduly
fanciful, and its basic premise - that the man may be discerned
in his works - found acceptance at once in an age preoccupied
with the individuality of authors. Not every critic found it
necessary to adopt Dowden 1 s treatment of the plays, poems and
sonnets as autobiographical material, but the assumption that
an artist creates images of his own personality can be diccerned
in Wilde and is pre-eminent in Pater.
i* .Srwin_burn_e on .Shakespeare^.
Algernon Charles Swinburne has been claimed as "the first in
England to apply purely imaginative standards to the whole
range of literature without too many concessions to purely
moralistic, realistic, or philosophical standards" - in other
words, as a founding father of the Aesthetic Movement.
2
T Iic
A Study of ^Shakespeare, published in 1880, surprises by its
clinging to conventional moral criteria, of judgement in
literature and the tedium of ite pedantry.
^n The Acadojny, Edward Dowden d< voted three columns to
the tactful but firm destruction of Swinburne's claims to
originality in the biographical framework of the book. Dowden
refrained from mention of his own labours, or entry into the
controversy which the new book sought to stimulate by its
sneers at the New Shakecpere Society: he ciug^ested that Swinburne
wr.s more convincing in his intuitions than his ccholarship.-
Such value as this otudy of

29
possesses - and Mr Swinburne, though he were
to try his worst, cannot write many pages
without giving us something of value - will
be found in scattered pieces of bright, penetrating
and original comment.
(3 January 1880)
Dowden has to admit that the book's prose sometimes obscures
the brightness of its penetrations:
But when one comes to translate auch passages
the pen drives heavily amid the radiant riot
of flower-soft speech, and the supreme cpilth
Oi starry syllables. One whose understand:, ig
has been darkened by verse tests finds himself,
too, as he copies, half unconsciously at v/ork
On a painful series of prose tests, including
the alliteration-test, the abusive-epithet
test, the triple-redundant adjective test,
and the never-ending hyperbole test.
Swinburne is a man "with whom the infallibility of genius
seems to be a foible", and Dowden reminds readers of Colaridce'3
suppositions regarding the chronology of the nlays, as an
example of the "baseless opinions" to which "mere general
impression, even when the impression of a man of genius, may
lead". The author's rude rejection of verse-tests seems
reprehensible to Dowden, in so far as it exhibits a contempt
for the new-found scientific spirit of English Sftakespoare
studies. The anti-rationalism of Swinburne's criticism was
summed up in T.S.Eliot's essay in The Sacred Wood:
There are to be no conclusions, except that
Elizabethan literature is very great, and
that you cm have pleasure and even ecstasy
from it, because a sensitive poetic talent
has had the experience. One is in risk of
becoming fatigued by a hubbub that does not
march; the drum is beaten, but the processoion
noes not advance..
Swinburne appears to be attacking not merely the New Shakespere
Society but the spirit of rational enquiry.
The lush prose of A Study of Shakespeare is embarrassing
not only on account of the ornamentation suggested in Dowden's
"prose-tests" but the devotional piety -which informs its
rhapsodies and occasional reflective moments. Prom the dedication,
in which jv.dnburne writes Hallivvoll-?liillipps's na;.ie
above his own on "the votive scroll" which "attaches" his
"offering" to "the shrine of Shakespeare", to the concluding

30
paean to Imogen, a quasi-religious aura pervades the work.
Swinburne's writing takes on a frankly liturgical form at times,
Such is the awed approach he makes to the Last Plays:
And now, coming at length v.lthin the very
circle of Shakespeare'8 culirainant and crowning
constellation, bathing my whole soul and spirit
for the last time and (if I live long enough)
as surely for the first of many thousand times
in the splendour of the planet whose glory is
the light of his very love itself, standing
even as Dante,
in the clear
Amorous silence of the Swooning-cphere,
what shall I say of thanksgiving before the
fin;>l feast of Shakespeare?
(Second edition., (1880) p.220)
This is an introit, and the reading of the plays has become
a ritual baptism, a repeated, eucharistic enactment of redemption,
and an occult experience - all at once* In commending1
the verse of Shakespeare's middle period to would-be poetic
dramatists, the author of Bothwell speaks of "that fcithful
and fruitful discipleship of love with which the highest
among poets and the most original among workmen have been
naturally always the first to study and the most earnest to
follow the footsteps of their greatest precursors in that
kind" (p.67) - the reflection in Swinburne's face of Shokespeare's
glory is obvious.
Such a cult requires a miraculous birth: indeed there
are several. First of all comes that of rarlowe:
Blank verse came to life in England at the
birth of the shoemaker's son who had but to
open his yet beardless lips, and the hirh-born
poem which had Sackville to father and Sidney
to sponsor jji.e. Gorbpduc"] was silenced and
eclipsed for ever among the poor plebian
crowd of rhyming shadows that v/aited in death
on the noble nothingness of its patrician shade.
(p.28)
More wonders are in store for the reader of Love * :. Labour * s
Lost,where "during certain scenes v/e seem almost to stand
acciln by the cradle of new-born comedy, and hear the first
lisping and laughing accents run over from her baby lips in
bubbling rhyme". Even more awe-inspiring is the manner in
which, r.t other times on this occasion "the note chnnf;cs" and

31
T '..e recognise the speech of the gocis" (pp.47-£). Ihe whole stuc y
is interspersed v/ith images of ^,ro:.th and m, turing, ts ov/inburne
sets out to follow a chronology .;hich transcends dates:
It is not, so to speak, the literal but the
Spiritual order ,.:hich I h; ve studied to
observe and to ind cate: the periods hich I
seek to define belong not to chronology but
to art.
(p.16)
ihis is redly no more than ?n excuse for making points
dependent upon chronology, ithout worrying about dttes:
S'./i^bi.riie rnari'.s the epochs in his chronicle b.y dis^l^ys of
language more resplendent tiu n his apoctly^tic norn. For
example, c.r lore's influence upon the early ./ork ~'i Jhcikospcie.ro
is ti-eated f.y follows:
In the i^eaven of our tragic song the firstborn
stc r on the forehead of its herald ^,00.
was not outshone till the full mi usurper
r.ierici.. u of that ^rotter gocheaci before -,;hon
he was sent to prepare y p£ thv;^-y for the sun.
ip.77)
oi:inburne f s meteorolo y \-oulc! h- ve tione ci-edit to the Book
of Re ve Ic tions.
h'erders of A Study of Sh; k_espe?:

32
Grcvo v;ith awe not known v/hile he
./as not, mad with glorious glee
As the sun saluted sea,
Vhen bis hour bade Shakespeare be?
(VIII (1890) 3-7; p.5).
Such is the Shakerpeare who appears in Swinburne's book, notable
there for his "godlike equity" and an "implacable and impeccable
righteousness of insight" (p»7o) - Shakespeare possesses not
only artistic but ethical powers of discrimination.
Swinburne f s abject adoration of the god-dramatist calls
forth not only an abundance of turgid and tasteless rose, but
oblique suggestions that the study of the dramatists works
had a place in the writer's own psycho-sexual development. In
the early pa^-js appears the figure of the boy "whose heart
firat begins to burn within him, who feels his blood kindle and
his spirit dilate, his pulse leap and his eyes lighten, over a
first study oaf Shakespeare" (p.20). The heroines of the ^lays
seem to have had a strong effect on the dilating heart and
leaping pulses, not by any conspicuous sexuality, but by their
purity. It is suggested that Shake peare d; liberately blackened
Goneril, Regan and lachimo in order to make credible the figures
of Cordelia and Imogeni
But for the contrast and even the contact of
antagonists as abominable as these, the gold
of their spirit \voulrt be too refined, the lily
of their holiness too radiant, the violet of
their virtue too sweet. (p.174).
The expression is unusually extreme (Swinburne never says once
v;h:it he knows three v/ays of saying) but the interpretation is
b^! no means orthodox, following as it does the path of Mrs
Jameson, riaokin's ooo a; and Liles (1865) and looser nid-
Victorian sentimentalists. Tlie final paean to Imoc\ n - "the
very crown and flower" of ohakcDtjeare's "daughters" - is unusual
only in the extravagance of its language. Sensitive persons
may remember that to their own innocent infantile
perceptions the i'iivt obscure electric revelations
of vvhrt Blake calls "the j'ternnl Fcnale" v;as riven
through a blind wondering thrill of chilt'ish rapture
by a lightening on the baby dp.wn of their
&oul from the ounrioe of Shckcspcare's Cleopatra.

ihis tells us nv ch more about £>..rinaurue tn.'-n about the books
he enjoyed: it may be held to be of & piece wicVi the individualism
of the Aesthetic .Movement, but Sv/incurne keeps uc L
clear jf the movement's favourite figure, the a:aor; 1 irtist,
ohakespe re is the supreme moralist, and apar 1. from a sut)0ostion
tii, t I;, go is an artist in his creation of evil, ana another
nomin tina, Black V.'ill in Arocn of Favershan as "th.-i .^.ssionate
artist vithout pi:y or conscience" (p. 141) the ^x'^to riauoit
makes no appearances in A, Study ~^i testifies to this ambition, CG 0.0 th^ uincrunt iorms
ol ...li'-oso attempted (not alx/ays successfully) i.i tiio yoi^rs betvjeen
liol and L< >4 - prose poeias, quasi-biblical parables, iairy
talcs , f i nt> vile T s Grin^, Tjie^
i-^e-.. u-hostj, a short novel, historical sketchec (Ven,
pencil anc Poison' ; anc litor ry criticisn.^" Ko^t of those sub-
:, ;nres ./ere to oe found in the popular litor. ry journalism of
thi ^i hteen-ai^htien: ii"' wilcie wto in S'jne respec-ts a pla^i; ry,
it v/So . 'it-i the ;i re ;.;dneo3 o.:.' a popular journalist s^eKin, . the
impact of . >; . i.os:ui *. hi.l.Jt lloidn,_, his ; UGH, nee t..u pi. cures
0- recognition, i.ha.t he oorro. uci I'r ;n Po.tor ni^ht aiiook, out
tha orris i')orrov.red fron nico.le- .T¥O\J oia^a in.: journalism uould
ht.ve a pallia toj^y effect on his n:>ro coi^crv tive roaeer:;;.
;.it"r the name manner Tile 3, like Shrw, adopted end no
e-:istin0 theatrical forns, a .roced.ro ahioa he seu::is to have
bought to . lar-.tery by 1 J>94 in TIi_e_ Ijnp_grtra'ice_ of beiu^. ^.: rnesit.
A^ain line o.- tav;, bi:t on a smaller scale, h^ ublished in the
cour;-o of the "apprenticeship" a number of t'.or.tric&l revio .s

34
reflecting the v.-ay in \vhich he ri.bj.diod to improve the state of
theatrical art. Thin involvement uith the theatre can be
contrasted to the attitude of Swinburne, who r.iade no concessions
to the demc-nds of public performance. r.othwell was acknowledged
by its "uthor to be unfitted for production, and between July
and August of 1874, as the veteran Times critic John Oxanford
struggled with the adaptation of the drama, Swinburne was
obliged to accept a revision dependent not only upon exisions
but on dividing the ,'lay into a series of tableaux, with the
" - - c
attenuation of such narrative continuity ;>s he had Oavised.
In 1C78 Prank Marshall, one of Irving'a business managers and
editor of The Plenry Irving Shakespeare, wrote that "by the help
of stern self-discipline" the poet inighe; have found "the higher-t
position among modem dramatists, but that he chose to produce
a work which even Oxenford, who "combined the elegant culture
of a great scholar v;ith the strong common sense of a practical
c.
dramatist", could do nothing to fit the modern stage. To
temperamental disinclination \vas added, by the lute eighteeneighties,
physical disability. In 1904 Wattc-Duaton .-.rote to
vVilliam Archer, declining on the poet's behalf an offer of
theatre tickets, that deafness had "for years ms/:.c it quite
impossible for him to go to the theatre at r.ll":
ioine #t;.urs ago when our friend Beerbohm-ircc
first produced The Merry v/ives of Windsor
Due. in 1889J> f old in order to" gratify"
Tree persuade the poet to accept a box with
r.:e. I rorjretted it, for the straining to
listen brought on a painful singing in the
ears which lasted for some days, ar;d yet iio
did not lic-rr a -. ord««
Swinburne's studies of Shakespe'^ro and hio contetfnoraries did
not suffer any intrusions from "tlio strong common sense" of
theatrical insight.
'loct of tide's v:riting on bhakeeoeare arosa from theatrical
occasions. His first published criticism vr'.s r-n .j.rticle on
Irving's Il^nlet in Th.e Dramatic Review for i-.iay 9, 1835, and a
general article, "Jh.ikespcure on scenery" had appeared in the
Q
same journr.l on March 14. Tiiis w;;s the germ of «"j]he 'iruth of
flasks" (Intentions, 1091), which w.-'E first orinted as "Jh.ikespec.re
on Stage Cocturne" in the May 1GC3 ist;ae of The Nineteenth Centur?/-

35
(XVII .LGO-Lll,) . The Irving reviov/ was iollowoci by reports in
The Drarjc.tic i'evieu of the Oxford university Lr nu.tic society's
Henry IV (23 . . y U-85)i As You Like' It at Coombe house (6 June
T'.relith liij..ht (another O.U.D.b. production; ,

Mary Anderson failed to take her opportunity, and by the time
Lawrence Barrett opened in Guido Ferranti Wilde was at work on
A Good Woman, the first draft of Lady Winderaere's Pan. Although
he still had hopes of seeing his "poetic tragedy" performed in
London, and approached Irving with a view to its production at
the Lyceum, his theatrical impu; les were turning towards work
of a different order. 11
"Shake peare on Scenery" represents Shakerpeare as a man
of the theatre possessing the same anxiety to supervise the
artistic presentation of his work that /ilde had shown in his
letter to Mary Anderson. The Elizabethan was "constantly
protesting against the two special limitations of the sixteenth
century stage, the lack os suitable scenery, and the fashion of
men playing women's parts" (DR 14 rfcrch 1885). Wilde assumes
that all theatrical art aspires towards illusion, and that any
mention by Shakespeare of the prenentational conventions of his
stage c.;nr>t ; tufceo evidence of a yearning for more accurately
deceptive representation. As one might expect, the speeches of
the Chorus in Henry V are taken to be expressions of dissatisfaction
with an unrealistic convention, not the noetic exploitation
of it. The "scene-setting speeches" are "inartistic
devices" which "interrupt the progress.of the play", and for
which Shakespeare "always aiaply apoloyiccs". 'Vildo observes
that "the quality of drama ic action" auc that "it is always
dangero is to pause for picturesqueness". It is to contemporary
production that V/ilde devotes most of his one-page article,
claiming, that scene-painting can expedite natters uy accomplishing
this p;:rt of the poat's wo ?*< for hi;n, reducing: the rubber of
descriptive p-'cca^os - lie does riot consider tho possibility that
< escriptiv'. verue can tail an audience things about tho
character of the poraon who uotera them. Scenic art, he ar.'juc,:;
is an art in itself, and he concludes with an appeal for the
recognition of scenc-riainters a.3 artists, ilt regrets the new
fashion f^r bvilt up scenic units, v/hieh nee a to be lit from
both bac^c anr* fror.t, giving t'-i3 lighting an overall flatness,
and he lar-nts th>, patina; of the a;o:>d troTipo cVooil painting:
Properties !:ill por^octive.' A painted door is
more li're a re.-1 do:^r than a rea.l door is itself,
for the properties of lijht and shade can be "iven
to it...

37
This is a typical Wildean paradox, invertinc the relationship
between art and life, but it is based on some acquaintance with
stn.ge technique - the familiarity revealed in th/3 letter to
Mary Anderson.
The contention that Shakespeare was a practical dramatist
is taken up in the long article "The Truth of f/Jasks", which sets
out to demonst; "be the playwright's concern with costume and,
by an extension of the i rfjument, with archaeological accuracy
in costume. In this: it takes issue with, a remark nn.de by Lord
Lytton, Duly or Lytton' e oon, in his article "f'irjs /-nderson's
Juliet", a defence of T'ary Andersen's Lyceum production
published in Ths ?Tiaeteenth Century in December loC4. In a
footnote Lyistou hnc 1. procl.v.imedt
I'hc attempt to nrchaeolo.^i^e the Sh?Ae;..-nerirean
drama is one of the stupidest pedantries of this
age of prif-'s. Arch.-eology ;vo old not be more out
of pi 3.ce in a fairy tale than it is in a ^lay of
Shako .ypeare. Tho first scene of the production
is beautiful and miu.-ted, and tlic.t ic ell that
ir- v/cinted.
(XVI (1884) 879-900; p.886). 12
wilde replies that Shakespeare rhows in the matter of dress
on st£.v;c the, iwformc-ti tr.cte ,r,r;^ocir.ter \ ith r-ioclorn artists,
and tha'c
.hero is absolutely no cirraiatic-t of the French,
English or A»heninfj:i st^~G v:ho relics so *mch
for hie illusionist effects on the drees of Iiin
actors o._ olia};eL. occ^re doou liinself.
(l r; 91) p. 218).
i'hc independence of uiio tra;jnolc of v.orldly coiiciderations,
;;hich one uieht expect the publicise L of Aectheticism to find
in ohake.-pearc'^ ; .rbistic temperament, i.^ located in the
dramatist's uco of 'uasqucs and uu^cos, purely for the sake
of ~cho. -olcastire which they :;iVG the eye", 'vrchaeolo^ical
expertise ic cubordina.ted to the production of t. cse effects:
Art, and art only, can rnclie arena cole £7 beautiful;
cine the -tiicE'tric cz-t, c^r, urc it nort r'-^-ectly
and r'.ost vividly, for it can combine in one exouisr.te
^i-esentc.tion the iilurion of ^c'bu; 1 life
wiU-ii tliv. v;onc.er of ^;lio unrcrl vorlcl.
P 235 )
Thic in tiic ^ar^rloxicp-l coinbination of iiir.t'ir/cn.l -precision
tiiu "la-u-eal world" v/hioh constituted t v->, E'/o^nnl of Altnr-

38
Tadema's and Albert Moo: 3«s painting.
The essay documents the archaeological consciousness in
some detail, but the reader is constantly reminded that historical
data have a subordinate position in works of imaginations
Truth is independent of facts always, inventing
or selecting them at pleasure.
(Intentions, p«242)
'I'iiis liberty is extended to the modern theatre: after an
admonition that "in mounting a play in the accurate costume of
the time...we are carrying out Shakespeare's own wishes and
method", ,,'ilde offers a more radical jtistificrition of "pictorial"
production* According to this,
there is ,JID more reason that r/e should continue
any imperfections which may be supposed to have
characterised Shakespeare's stage-mourting than
that we ahould have Juliet played by a young m n,
or f;ive up the advantage of changeable scenery,
A great v;orl: of dramatic art should not merely
be made expressive of modern passion by -.neons
of the c.ctor, but should be presented to vis in
t-.e form n:ot"t suitable to the . \oclern spirit.
(Intentions, p-?.245-6)
The critic moves back and forth 1'ron discussion of Shakespeare's
theatre to the modern ct^e, by dai/Aing that the tv;o share
illusionist aims. To the lint of tccnniciniii" required by
ohalzcspoare - property - and vi^-i-Asterc, i;: ICG UP ;.-.rtisto,
fencing coach, dance instructor - "vVilcle Mdd£> "an artist to
percor.al-y direct tiie whole production" (Intentions, r>.225)
In his uioein.2; pages he returns to tliia t5U£;. 'cstion: t:ie uta/rin.^"
of ;olayo calls for ^. strong sense of harmony and compo.'ition,
for "as lo-ig as the backfiTOiind is painted b;, one artist, and
tiie i'orcnroLizd fi.rure£: iut-'cpendently by another, tiicro is a danger
of ..ant of harmony in tiie scene as a picture". B'acli ctr^;e-
1 ictore ^lioulO have itc colour Lchcrie "settled as absolutely
•'c for the decoration of a room", and .vil-.-e proceeds to a
difjcussion of the relative usefulness of ccr Min CO!O-AT,
advoci.tin tiie ju,. icious use of f?.cLinr, "by vhich nodern colours
aro often - .ucii improved*'. u.'hc need .for su^erv-icion b.- one artist
iS Rgriil G:.pX-.~Gi2GU:
3ii ,rclv» Diarchy and. ite^ublicrnici- ry contend
lor M-'.e :;ovcr:vi':-.fc of aj Li,^::^ lout a tJioFtre
should be in the po\ver of a culture- despot.

39
autocrat "not merely should design and arrange everything
but should have complete control over the way in which each
dress is to "be worn", and Wilde advocates dress rehearsals, so
that tho actors may see how rtrcss and cssture are not merely
fitted to but are controlled by and define character - "until
an actor is at home in his dress, he ic not nt home in his part".
(Intentions, pp. 25 5-6).
It- seems that i'.'ilue'c views on the subject were influenced
by those of the r.rcuitect and stage-desi^er, E.W.Godwin, whose
oericD of articles "Archaeology on the Stc^e" had appeared in
The l?r: n-itic iteviev during February and March of 1885 » These
articles are discussed in Part Two, Chapter Tvo below, in
connection with Godwin's theatrical career atic: influences it
appear c that ..i.lde was not so much a Tiipgicirist as an advocate
of th','0 ana 1885: tr,oy ;.lso

40
appeared in Blr.ckwood f s Edinburgh ra^p-aine, of which her husband
Sir Theodore Martin, was a director. The chrracters fi^cnrseri
in tho first collection were Ophelia, Portia, Desdemona, Juliet,
Imogen, Rosalind, and Beatrice; to the fourth edition (1891) an
essay on Hermione was added, and references arc to the pagination
of this edition. 14"
In 1C83 Helen Paucit was very much a legend* Her last
London appearances, at Drury Lane in 1864, hfd reminded critics
of Mrcready's actin,,, and of the manner in which that actor, in
G.H. Lewes' phrase, "strove to introduce aa uuch familiarity of
detail aa was consistent '-.'itli ideal prescntation"l5.The accounts
of her training; an-l motho-lc jiven 'by h-?r osr;ays and :;lie biography
written by her husband, surest that sho concorn.id her::: elf from
the first with elevate , literary; pl^y?. >:ior theatrical debut
was i performance ao Juliet at the Richmond Theatre in 1833, and
she retired in 1879, v/hon clio -Irycrl Ro^rlind in "anchor^ 3r for
the oenol'it of Ch;.-rlo^ Crlvort'o d^O'.v. In the cource of her
career and for the ^ost ?- ; r': niicor ??ncready*n management, she
played -ioaalind, Beatrice, Imogen, Hermions, ^or^elia, '""ircnda,
Constance, Lady Ilacbcth and Juliet an

41
series of "efforts to interpret the heart and nature of woman,
as drawn by our master-poets" (Juliet, p.97). This suggests a
scheme similar to that of Anna Jameson's more systematic
Characteristics of //omen (1832 - a new edition appeared in
1879), wherein the plays furnish illustrations of "womanliness".
In Llrs Jameson f s work a generalised psychological theory lends
the dramatic presentations of femininity considerable unity:
in Helen Faucit, this unity ic assimilated to the interpreter's
own personality, and praise of the characters devolves on the
writer herself.
Thus, at the beginning of the first of two letters ori
Juliet, she asserts that, in dealing with 7'e8demona, Portia and
Ophelia, she spoke "as of beings outside, as it were, her own
personality"-
...but Juliet seems inwoven with my life. Of nil
characters, here is the one which I have found
the greatest difficulty, but also the greatest
delight, in acting.
-'he had acted the pert from the beginning of her career, but
never "v/ithout finding fresh cause to wonder at the genius
which created this child-w >nan, raised by love to heroism of
the highest type" (p.85). Given that her intention was "to
clothe oh happy nriviledre! - with form and motion the greatest
creations of poetical genius" (rulOl), assertions that the roi e c
are difficult become assertions that the actress rose to, or
surpassed, the task. Acting becomes a process of adding illustration
to the dramatist's words, arr' he becomes, b irrnlication,
a co-worker of Helen I?aucit. The CD cays are filled, legitimately,
with ror.iinoers of the interpreter's difficulties. In the first
balcony scene of Ho.neo and Juliet, for example:
As tlio whole scene ±L. the noblest paean to
Love ever written, r,o ic v;hat Juliet now says
C.II.2.C5-106J supreme in sublety of feeling
and oxorersion, v.here all is beautiful, '.vatch all
the fluctuations of emotion v.liicli pervrde it, and
you will understand \vhat a task is laid upon
the actress to interpret tliera, not in voice and
tone only, important as these are, but also in
manner and notion. / 119)

42
At times this approach leads the author into detailed and
sensitive analyses of passages of the text, at times into paragraphs
of self-satisfaction and self-congratulation. After
observing that the performance of Rosalind allowed her to
-ive "full expression" to what was best in herself, as well as
in her art, she continues:
It was surely a "trange perversion which, we
read, assigned Rosalind, as at one time it had
assigned Portia, to actresses whose strength
lay only in comedy. Even the joyous, boyant
side of her nature could hardly have justice
done to it in their hands; for that is so
inextricably mingled v.ith deep womanly tenderness,
with an active intellect disciplined
with fine culture, a,', .veil as tempered by a
certain native distinction, that a mere
comedian could not give the true tone and
colouring even to her playfulness and ;:it.
(p.236)
The implication that Helen Paucit possessed all these gifts is
clear.
In her accounts of performance Helen Paucit often claims
that her degree of identification with the character was so
great as to nove not only the audience but fellow-actors and
the actress herself: best-known among such passages is that
describing her playing Herraione to Macready's Leontes, but
similar reminders of her involvement with the heroines are
found throughout the book. Thus, among general reflections on
the art of acting, towards the end of the letter on Beatrice,
the author argues against the taking of calls during the
performance of a play:
It was ever my desire to forget ny audience.
Little did they, v;ho only meant Irinclness, know
how much they took fro,, my oov;er of workin ; out
my conceptions when they forced nc in this v;ay
out of my dream-world. /^ 332-3)
Realistic staging was another obstacle to the v.-orking out of
the conception - an "ideal" theatre was preferable to a realistic
one. She does not go so far as to propoae a return to the
techniques of Elizabethan staging, but prefers scenery to be
kept in its plrce:
...oh how refreshing- it i- to have your thoughts
centred upon such h.j-nan beings as oh,:kespeare
drew, each phase of their characters

4 O
J
before you, , ith ell their joys, their woes, their
.'flections, sufferings, passions, instead of the
irr:ove:blo upholstery and p&intuci simulations of
reality in which the modern fashion takes deli,_htl
(Imogen 1 ,p.l66)
acready knev/ the vc lue of illusion, but kept it appro .ri, tely
subordinate to "the arc nu tic interest 11 ( 'i'.eetrice' , p. 334). In
her ^pprecic.tion oi painting is found comparable cesire to
sllov. the cro;n world full freedom: p cii; ry entry, for January
16, lt.63, describes & visit to the Burlington ballery. There
she admired "some of the old mrsters", together .ith

44
for Haslet "th::t -ubtle chirm v;hioh the deep, r-hiloaophicol
intellect must ever find in the pure uncon;:ciov.n innocence and
wisdom of a guileless heart" (p.9)* The actress enjoyed a.
si^il;ir ascendancy in the eyes of "deep, philosophical" contemporaries;
after encounter with Oarlylo at the none of James
Anthony Proude in 1873» she wrote in her diary:
...he referred in glowing terms to mu Desdemona*
Anid much else, he said he had never felt the play
so deeply before. One phrase efspaclolly struck me -
11 It quite hurt ne to Dec the fair, delic'.te creature
so brutally used". Would that I coulr give an idea
of .ais tone and accent, ^ontle ;".ncl ti smulo' s, as if
a rufferine, living crreturn r;rs there brforo himKo
Tho heroine ,?trnds remote iro)\ the audience anO the other
dramatic characters, moving both to foelings of admiration,
and, more often,than not, pity.
'.illicja Archer reviewed the firrt edition of On Some of
Shakocpe.are * s__Feiaaler Char?cters in The TJaeatre, under ta>~ title
"Ophelia and Portia: A liable for Critics" (n.s.VI (July 18"5)
17-27). He suggested that an actor could only show one side of
a role r.t once, -corking "by selection rather i;Ii; .n "by comp.>ritive
r.nal,ycis of the rationalist critic - oacii essays as these had -
charm and a ccrtn.jn interest, but at best could 'contribute very
little tovvr'.rcLc a rational solution of critical -/roblenri" (p.18)
j-'.ltli-r.A.^h Hel'-n ',ucrl-i f s work had little to offer Archer, it did
exlii.ji-;; a rjejicit.vve ;'i-tictic torv^erariont v/hoco reflections, if
a little cl^-f-iRhionoj, had sone ^ffj.nity '/j.th the- egocentricity
of Aess-:;hi-t;ic.irjn. '?.l\c corporate identity of ohake; oo^re's
heroines v:rrr by no r^anr n for, TO "tori isi.-ue, and the continuing
existence of rictor r-.nd r.ct::-cr.B-centred tiie-.ti-o helped to -oerpetnr.to
it. It~ p.Tir>oal to r.nrvivinr "lonentf of rev: ivcici:.'.:-! in t;.o
fachior^^ble sensibility vvr-,c cvi'-'en-t;. To this 'i.lde* ^ connote to
:::ilcn Tcrr?,'r i?'. Poems (1881) foe".r vitness, as does Tiorian Crry f £i
a-p-.ircci.-.tion of Sybrl Vr.nc:
Light after ni^ht I ^o to cc-" Ler ^l--y» One
evonin.-; she irj Rosalind, t-nu ul^e next cvr-r.iii'_-
she ic Inorjei'1-. I -- i vc 3eon her :'io in the- ^lo^'n
of an Italian toinb, sucking the poicon from . LOT
iovcr*s lips. I have watche^ her v/fincloririj tlvrough
tho v'orc'ct" of Arden... I L.-VO ooe:?. hor in ev-ry age
and co!v'GU'!ie. Ordinary \/or.icn ^cvor aype.;! to ono's
imr:.ci:iotion. 'They -u^ li lited to tlioir centn.ry..,
/;u'b an ^Corossi How different --.n nc^r-usi' icf .'i-rryl
v'hy didn't you tell no tlirt thn only tAin/:, worth
loving is an -ctress?

iv. waiter ?at,er«n
Pater published three essays on ,3ha.kespearean sjiugect^, bringing
them together in 13C9* in the volant of Apjprccii..tio/iS. The first
to appear was "A Fragment on Keaaure. ..for . . ousure " in The Fortnightly
-ioview for November 1874. In 188|> "Love* a Labour's Lost"
( ;ic) vjc.a printed ir: the December issue of ^'.ccd 1 lan * 3 :'o.(.yizine ,
and in April 1839 "Shake spa;. re »u Knglish Kin^c" appeared in
jjoribnor * a Magazine* In all three Pater aoontec' the spelling of
the drcunc.tj.L.t'e licirne propo^eu by ulic i:ev; nhaic^-jpere Society. In
tlicessays ;vc-re flrteG I-07'l , ! ? "' and 1 C 39, but
the onioi of the two earlier ones was reversed, that on Love's
Labour's -lost preceding "A ^ra^ncnt on '^^i^.e_fj>r_ ]- ' eagure" .
In the pages which follow the essays are quoted in the text of
their first appearance,
The dominant theme in the first of the eswayu is that of
the creative artist's attitude and powers - the process of
composition is described in. terms sufc/^estinc painting and botany
(a science beloved of .Pre-^nh^.olite painters):
Ahetstone himself turned the thin«c iato a 'tale...
a genuine dece, v/ith touches of unclosi^iiod -ootry,
a ciii.iiri; x'ield-i'lower hore and there of diction or
sentiment, the whole strung up to ,- n effective
brevity, tuiu vvita the ir £.r.izice of t;i-^t admirable
>V,e o.':' lit",i-:?tur© about it.
( ' : ;ho Fortnihtly " i'icv. . XXII (I 1 14)
Hhc'-kpspearc then c^?~.rr ps s. combined .rrc-iioect cmd painter:
Hero thor. there n s so;aot'ain~ of th?,- o.oi;ln.-l Italian
colour; in tliis narrative 3hcJ;oco-rrc ;:ay ,;ill hr>ve
c.;i,i;i:>t the fir !: "M'-pce of o, con^^rition -vith nobler
"or'O""?ort.iorir:;J r.'n^ POTnc; -rvrtlo^s ."- 'JcG^ch fror lie ov^i iicncZ.
the "5lay £G v.'c cfw'.lly read it. Out of -''less inrii/;;-
nific^nt sources ;jlirL.;.e:.'pGre'.^ -)l^y :;rice; , full of
bocvat",'', t'jo .'ior; bO'\y of n ""A ;-j.c-r, 'l;ho.'j.L-;h c'orietinps
re::'iote anu difficult poetry, ecc,';:in- fror: fio i:i~porr^oi
ro.lic.-: of t-icj old rj'i/ ;r,/-, yot not v;hoily
tr.-i'icf jr.aed, ;f.nd -avon .--fa it , !;. _.'. .'3 t.ic oro->arition
3.1.1;,-", ".TO '.^ir^.u ^"'liLc, jj? ;.x :-jtili ".Dre i-ioosirj^
(p.533)
'..-here is c hj.nt of th2 :.ir.^Uo obout t;d3 J?MJ.:ebpeare, vvhoce play
"risetj" c-3 though nonjurocl u ^ rat^.^r them const rue tod, p.nri thic;

46
god-like power is reflected in tlie dramatist's moral stance.
Shakecpeare views his characters with a degree of detachment,
and
brings before us a group of persons, attractive,
full of desire, vessels of the genial, seed-bearing
powers of nature, a gaudy life flowering out over
the old court and city of Vienna, a spectacle of
the fulness and pride of life which to some may
seem to touch on the verge of wantonness. Behind
this group of people, behind their various action,
Shakespere inspires in UG the sense of a strong
tyranny of Nature and circumstance.
(p.653)
Consequently, the characters are not divided simply into good
and v.lcked:
The slightest... is at least not ill-natured:
the meanest can put forth a plea for existence...
This lends the play a "vivid reality" and "subtle interchange
of light and shade" which leads Pater to conn are the shadow of
Death on each character v.dth the effect of Orcagna's fresco at
Pisa:
The little mirror of existence, which reflects to
each for a moment the stage on which he plays,
is broken at last by a capricious accident; vhilc
all alike, in their yearning for untocted enjoyr.ient,
are realty discounting their days, grasping so
hastily and accepting so inexactly the precious
pieces.
(p.654)
Pater finds the figure of Barnsrdine particularly touching, am
praises ohakerpcare's sensitivity in placing in the mouth of
"a gilded witless youth" words "which seen to e:chauct nan's
deepest sentiment concerning death and life" (p.657).
The imortrnce of do- til to the sensitive nine! if: 1 a subject
treated in many of Pater's essayc« In the Conclucion to the first
edition of The Renair.fiance,published in 1073, the promise of
death lies behind one of the author's moot .famous pronouncements:
.Veil! we are ,11 conclai:nic_, a:: Victor ^ugo says:
we are all under sentence of dea.th but v.dth a
sort of indefinite reprieve - lea homines sont
tous condfuanes/a raort avec :airsis iiidefinis;
we have an intorvai, anr! tnoi: o\:r -ilacc knows uc
no more, .jome spend thia interval in listlecsnecc
some in hi^;h pascionc, the wisest, at least araon^'
the "children" of t.'ie v/orld" ii: rt and cong. SQ?~'
our one chance lies in expanding that interval, in
gettinr as many pulaations as r>os ible into the
riven tine.

47
This view is re^-examined by the author in Marius the Epicurean,
published in 1805: in chapter sixteen Harius ponders what may
be salvaged from the "Cyrenaic" attitudes he had adopted. Some
similarities exist between the "old morality" and "Cyrenaicism":
In the gravity of itc conception of life, in its
pursuit after nothing less than a perfection, in
its apprehension of the value of time - la
passion e.t le serieux quiconeacrent - iT~may be
conceived, as regards its 'main drift, to be not
oo much opposed to the old morality, ae an exaggeration
of one special motive of it.
Glaudio is cited as an example of a man who, while ambitioj£ to
enjoy the most pleasurable sensations life can yield, feels "an
inward need of something permanent in its character, to hola by":
21
Pater calls him "the brilliant Claudio" in -.larius . and in his
essay on the play claims for him "thoughts as profound and
poetical as Hamlet's".
Shakespeare's attitudes towards the characters of his play
coincides vdth Pater's ideal of sensitive justice:
this finer justice, a justice based on a more
delicate appreciation of the true conditions
of men and things, a J;rui resp0ct of persons
in our estimate of actions.
It is for this that "the people in Measure for Measure cry out
as they pass before us" (p.658). Shakespeare's judgements are
those of an observer,
...of one who sits as a spectator, and knov:^
how the threads in the design before -in hold
together under the surface: they are the
judgements of the humorist also, who follows
with a half-amused but always pitiful sympathy,
the various ways of human disposition, and sees
less distance than ordinary men betv/ecn what are
nailed respectively great and little things.
Pater's v/ork is full of such figures - in the Inncinary j-ortraits.
collected in IT'87, in The ilenaissance and in Harius the Epicurean.
where Flavian (fictional author of the °crvi.n:ilium Veneris).
Marcus Aurelius, Aouleus, Fronto and the hero are variations
on a thome. Of many examples, that of Botticelli may suffice:
tno painter, we are told,
sets for himself the limits within which art,
undisturbed by any moral ambition, (."iocs its most
sincere and surest work, 'lie interest is neither
in the unteinpered goodness of Angelico's s: ints,

48
nor in the untempered evil of Orcagna'c Inferno;
but with men and women, in their mixed and uncertain
condition, always attractive, clothed sometimes by
passion with a character of loveliness and energy,
but saddened perpetually by the shadow upon them
of the great things from which they shrink. His
morality is all sympathy, conveying into his work
more than is usual of the true complexion of
humanity, which makes him, visionary as he is, so
forcible a realist » 22
Pater only advocates a withdrawal from life by the nrtist, in
BO far as he regards detachment a part of the process by which
life may be described.
The next piece on Shakespeare finds in Love's Labour's
Lost a similar ambivalence - the dramatist has succeeded in
bringing " a serioi s effect out of the trifling of his characters";
A dainty love-making is interchanged with the
more cumbrous nlny; below the many artifices
of Biron 1 s amorous speeches we may trace sometimes
the "unutterable longing"; and the lines in which
Katherine describes the blighting through love of
her younger sister are one of the moat touching
things in older literature*
( Macmillarj * s Magazine . LIII (1885)
89-91; p«»9).
Pater focuses attention on Biron, as a figure alternately the
instrument and butt of satire:
In this character, which is never quite in touch
with, never quite on a level of understanding,
with the other persons of the play, we see, perhaps,
a reflex of Shakespere himself, juit become able
to stand aside from and entin;*te the first period
of his ooetry.
He is compared v/ith riercutio and similar figures who "resemble
those works of art which, though not meant to be very great or
imposing, are yet wrought of the choicest material". Pater does
not develop the discussion of Biron, but in Ilarius the Epicurean
we find a similar detachment in tiie hero's attitude towards the,
"golden youth of Rome":
In spite of, perhaps tartly because of, liis habitual
reserve of manner, he had become "the fashion", even
among those who felt instinctively the irony which
lay beneath that remarkable self-possession, as of
one talcing things v/ith a difference fro:;: other
people, perceptible in voice, in expression, and
ev;,n in dress, o-i

49
This description might be of the autlior himself - it certainly
forms part of an ideal persona, and in the course of the book,
as Marius eventually becomes a Christian, it is only a short
step from Biron (or Marius, or Pater) to Christ, Again a
detached world view brings its rewards, in a newly spiritualised
apology for the pursuit of aesthetic pleasure:
oome transforming spirit was at work to harmonise
contrasts, to deepen expression - a spirit which
in its dealing with the elements of ancient life,
was guided by a wonderful tact of selection, exclusion,
juxtaposition, begetting thereby a unique effect
of fijshness, a grave yet wholesome beauty, because
the world of sense, the whole outward world wos
understood to s«t forth the veritable unction and
royalty of the soul within, among the prerogatives
of which was a delightful sanse of freedom. ? ,
After the publication of Marius the Epicurean, with its reviewed
and moral individualism, Pater felt himself able to restore to
The Renaissance the Conclusion omitted in 1877 for fear of
imputations of advocating hedonism*
In the essay on Measure for Measure Pater treats Shakespeare
not only as an impartial creator but as an artist working in
a visual medium. Love * s Labour* s Lost possesses "not so much
the unity of a drama as that of a series of pictorial groups,
in which the same figures appear, in different combinations
but on the same background" - Pater compares t.>'.e play to an
ancient tapestry, in which the figures have been ;:iven voices
(p.89)» This kind of unity - "not GO much the unity of a drama"
- is the unity Pater seems to have striven for i.i his own
work: Marius the Epicurean is not oo much a novel as a series
of scenes, Imaginary Portraits v/ith a fully detailed background,
men and women seen not ii action but in rcnoce. The nrtists
Pater admired were praised in so far c.s they achieved ouch
effects. In "The School of Georgione", published in 1077 and
reprinted posthumously in .Miscellaneous otudieTS (1895), the
critic attempted to define the quality which Vasari had called
il fuoco Giorgioncsco;
Now it is no.rt of the ideality of the highest
sort of dramatic poetry, that it presents ue
v/ith a kind of profoundly significant and ;. nin-
, ted instant, a more gesture, a lo ;k, a :nale,
per "iaps - some brief and wholly concrete nozncnt -

51
Measure for iioasure Pater admired the episode of 'r.rinna,
with its ,limpses of "pleasant places - tlie field without
the to,,11, Angelo's garden house, the consecrated fountain".
This appreciation of poignancy combines the passage of
time, the fragility of life, the approach of death or rain,
and a saddened toleration in dealing xvith human affairs. In
"Shake;pere's English Kings" P- ter refuses to treat the
monarchs as text book examples of heroism or v/ickedness, and
allows the audience to be caual in their interest as the
characters are human in their fault and virtues:
It is no ?*cnria

52
Henry V exhibits a contrast between "the popularity, the showy
heroism" of the king, and tho material preoccupations of
humanity - there is a poignancy in the isolation of the monarc
which anneals to Pater, and he finds it even in Richard Ox
Gloucester:
.o.touched, like John, with an effect of real
heroism,...spoiled like him by something of
criminal madness, Richard reaches hie highest
level of tragic expression when cinrcunatances
reduce iiin to tie terns of rore human nature...
(p.508)
Pater reserves most of his cpace for Richard II, who emerges
as a gently cynical aesthete, not unlike Biron, except in GO
far :D Iiic cietachment is the DCII.'CO of tragedy. lis eloquence
never forsake;- him and becomes, "like ;.jiy other of those
fantastic ineff ec o Aal easily discredited, prroonrl graces, as
capricious in its operation on raen'c v/ills as mere physical
beauty 1*. Richard is a sensitive outsider, able to nove the
Philistines who victimise him by "an eloquent self--iity,
infectin;; others in cpite of themselves, till they too become
irresistibly eloquent about Iiin" (p.510). He has "an extraord­
inary refinement of intelligance and variety of piteous mpeal"
and "fccility of ~> jetic invention" which places him in a class
with Keats and Chatterton - whcco best work is "voracil and
ivory". The examples chosen by Pater to show trio chrr. cter'3
and the ;ol;:,y*s, poetic power arc illustrative of r process
by \vhich "tho f^rancliooe aspects of ;;ar" rro r.ct ;\r'oinct its
ovil f'licj unsightly conoequencos. ;o re rG.; ^in^ ec?. tiiat the
countryside io described as pale ('"?h:'-t v:j.o, the t ;.hite fac*d
ahore", and "her mild-pale peace") and .^cen ("Tiie f refill croon
lap of fair ling Eiicliard's land") and. po."coful. Richard's
nature is, according to Pater, correlated ;vit'.-. "the oolicate
cwcetnesD of tlie Unrlis i field, still swoet run1 fro on, li.'.:c
London ant! her other £ i r towns in that Enplane? of Chaucer"
(p.508), '^'-'.is comparison ni y not have been orcsent in 3na.i:o, -
por.ro f c mind, and Pater clocc not produce evi ence that he
conceived of ..ichard II f s ^iglrnd ac being different from
tiiat of Elisabeth. Indeed, r-o Pater v;rote lie ;-.ay Iio-«?n had in
riind '.yillian :lorris*c corrrx'.rir.on of Ricardian o.ncl Vt-rrtorian

53
Forget six counties overhung v/ith nnoke,
Forgot the snorting steam nd piston stroke,
Forget the spreading of the hideous town;
Think rather of tlic pack-horse on the clown,
And dream of London, email and white, and clean,
The clear Thames bordered by its /arsons green;...
In Ilorris's London Chaucer is at work:
...nigh the thronged wharf Geoffrey Chaucer's pen
Moves over bills of lading... 2g
l:his picture seems to have influenced Pater's description of
Auxerre in "Denys L'Auxerrois", where tho river Yonne,
has all tho lightsome characteristics of French
river-side scenery on a smaller ccale than usual,
and miclrt pass for the child's fancy of a river,
like the rivero of old r:dniature~paintcrs, blue
and full to a fair green mar gin. 2g
Pater's Shakespeare, it a-op ceres, had anticipated "orris.
The poet iillian Watson, reviewing Appreciations in The
Acoc'.Giny discerned a quality of humility in Pater's method:
by virtue of this vory humility and apparent
celf-repression ho attains to something like
kinship and equality v:it:i tho masters whom it
is his ambition singly to under.' trnci and report.
(21 December 1889)
To ono modern c iti, :. it appears that Pator'c "reel ;;ift" is
for "the discernment of the delicate nuance rather than of
oov;er" - ho deals on a mail scale with works conceived on
a fjuall scule and "is more successful in coaling v/ith Luca
aobbia than .vitA
"^
ra.tor's selection of t-iree relatively unpopular ol^yc
in ordoji" to characterise Sliakospeare is siciiificnrb - it
reflects the parado:-: of his Iiunility: he v/ritos about t^o r:u; lities:
in artists thf.it he aspires to in his ovm work, 'i.liic- egocentricity
is something Pator aclaiov/1 edged anc. v/elcoraed in tho
otucly of --cst ages. In V'arius tlio Enicuz'Gan tlie nest is Been
to be interesting not in itself but in so f r as it contributed
to a continual process c/liicli includes present anc1 future -
an abstract value t;oin;'; beyono archaeolo^/j
The frag::ents of oldoa architecture, the
nosaics, the spiral cola~-ns, the orecious
corJier-ctonos of innieraorial buildin..:;, 1m d
nuu on, by r;uch jtuitaiociition v;ith a now
creed , a now and cinaTilar oiprcasivenesc,

54
an air of grave thought, of an intellectual
purpose, in itself, aesthetically, very
pleasing,,.^
Thic awareness of transience, rather thuri permanence, has been
traced x'rom Keats to Roosetti, who "with only a clicjht darkening
of his mood... nay become more aware of the moment's
a o
parking than its permanence" . The figures in Keats' urn
and in Pater's Imaginary Portraits have considerable similarities,
but whereas Keats'figures seem unafraid, unconscious
of the passage of time and frozen in moments of pleasure and
anticipation, Pater's characters are acutely aware of change
and loss - they have a sense of their own poignancy. In Keats
this sense is confined to the observer, but in Pater author
and creation share one personality, one consciousness; as
Duke Carl of Rosenmold recognises:
Surely past ages, could one ^ct at the
historic soul of them, were not dead, but
living, rich in company, for tlie entertains nt,
the expansion, of the presents and Duke Carl
was still without suspicion of the cynic
after thought that cuch historic soul WIG but
an arbitrary substitution, a generous 13211 of
one'r self. .3.,
In Oscar .tilde's review of Apprec i ations it was claimed that
"It is only about tliingc that do not interest one, tliat one
£ives n really unbiased oninionj and this is no doubt the
reason why on unbiased opinion ic alv/ayr? absolutely valueless"^
2ho stylo is less subtle than Pater's, but the i£ea is not
wholly unfaithful to his critical approach, .i'io huinility w;~.s
paradoxically egotistic, hie advocacy Bncl admiration of
irricrti.-1 r.ior ril jucif;e;-";cnt a curious conrnani in for tho evident
p;irtiality of his choice of subjects. Thir, icind of receptive,
paDGivc intellect pro^oc.ed by Pater io in uraiy roc-nccts
rnalo^ous to that cr.nvnosoci by »?ilde in "L'-nvoi". Pater
becomec what he studies in a manner that rofloctc the -ft'lory
of his subjects upon himself, and the process is not unlike
tiiat b which cwinburne, \Vildo ana Helen Paucit a. ainilate
Siiaic-jspearo uO their own perconality.

55
The first volume of the New Shakeopere Society's Transactions,
published in 1874, included a copy of the Society's prospectus:
Dramatic poet though ohakc-pere is, bound to lose
himself in his wondrous and manifold creationsj
taciturn "as the secrets of nature 1* though he be;
yot in this Victorian time, when our geniuses of
Science are so wresting her aecrets from W;..ture as
to make our days memorable for ever, the faithful
student of Shakerpere need not fear that he will
be unable to pierce through the crowds of forms
that exhibit Shakespere s nind, to the mind itself,
the man himself, and soe hin as he was; while in
the effort, in the enjoyment of his new gain, the
worker will find his own reward.
35
OK
The scientific optairisnr of the Society is scarcely reflected in
the English criticism surveyed in this chapter? Pater's
impartial Shakespeare partakes of that Negative Capability
which iCents described, and which sorted ill with i-'urnivall's
preoccupations -
...I mean Negative Capability;, that ic when
man is capable of being in uncertainties,
Ly^terien, doubts, without any irritable reaching
after Tact and rerson.^g
Pator modifies tho quality and Wilde accepts it implicitlygoing
so far as to quote Keato without c clcnowlodccnont in
"The rruth of /laskG" - whilst Swinburne glories in uncertain-
•3-7
ties, pausiny occasionally to attack the scientists* ' Helen
$(.:ucit does not concern herself with such natters, but takes
up the romantic actress's posture before the ehrine of the
national Poet*
In 1£S9 John Addin^ton Symonds's "Co:.rp:iricon of Eli .r.bethan
with Victorian Poetry" was rubliched in The Fortnightly
Heviow. tiymonds see., tho sixteenth century as rn age of o ptiniG:.i
and happy eclecticism - the Continental °en,i: ranee had
accornpliched "tho hard work of aocinilatin;^ the hum nities" n>:-c!
the English "had only to survey and enjoy, to feel rind to
express, to lay themselvec open to delightful influence;:;, to
con -the noble lessons of the past, to thrill beneath the beauty
and the awe of an caithentic revelation" (XLV (1889) i55-79; 7).57).
Thus the Elicacethnns, described as pc.scivc co'iioceenti arc ncicle
devotees of art for its own cakes

56
Our firot question with regard to an Elizabethan
iss what grasp and grip does he possess upon
the common stuff of art? Our firot question with
regard to a Victorian is: how doer the man envisage
things, from what point of view does he
start, by what scientific spirit is he controlled?
(p.79)
hilst Wilde accomodated Shakespeare to his own ideas by
setting him firmly among "the common stuff of art", and Pater
described him as a dramatist who was not so much irresponsible
as impartial, both:owed something to Arnold's vision of a sage
who keeps his freedom while others abide our question - withholding
not only moral commitment but biographical information.
But the stage had to accomodate Shakespeare according to its
own specie! limitations and licences. It partook of the painter's
skill, and, in a time when painting was liable to censure if
it dealt excessively in anecdote and "moaning", the pictorial
representation of a play wac an artistically hazardous business.
Rival theories of graphic and plastic art, as well as of
literary and dramatic skill, v/ould be called into question,
wilde, in The Critic as Artist, v/rote slightingly of illustrative
painting, v.liich, he argued, did not "r..tir tho imagination",
but "cot bound to it":
The painter is so far limited that it ic only
throU;3h the mr.sk of the body that he can rdiov/ us
the mystery of the r.oul; only through conventional
images that he can ha .ale ideas; only throufji its
physical equivalents that he can handle psychology.
And how inadequately doec he (J.o it then, askirr us
to accept the torn turban of the : ".oor for the noble
r"a ( jc of Othello; or a dotard in a storm for the vild
nadnccs of LoarKo
It is no are it distance from ouch a view of painting, to the
Romantic impatience ./ith the stage, and Lear revealed as an
old man in a nightshirt - perhaps the older criticism waa in
.-ilde's mind, vVhen painting was bein; freed from narrative,
was iu roa&onable to join the tv:o in theatrical performances?

57
Chapter Three
THEATRICAL WRITING AND PRODUCTION.

58
It has been suggest ed that one of the leading topics of
art-criticism in the eight e en-eighties was the relationship
between "literary" and more abstract values, and that a further
problem, arising from the first, was that of "finish" - the
importance and nature of detail in painting. In this chapter
it is proposed to examine the similar debate in theatrical
criticism of the period - a debate as to the relative importance
of literary and pictorial values. in stage plays and their
presentation.
The prevailing mood amongst literary men was pessimistic
- A.W.vvard's -article on Drama in the ninth edition of The
Encyclopedia Britannic Q is representative:
The history of the English stage in the present
century has been one of gradual decline and decay,
not (especially at the present day) without
prospects of recovery, of which a praiseworthy
hopefulness is ever willing to make the most.-,
Agninct this must be set the "praiseworthy l:opefulnoss" of
some individuals, notably Henry Irving, whoso public pronouncements
represent the contempoary stago as an achievement of
Victorian democracy:
The genuine opreacl of education, the incrorced
community of taste between classes, and the
almost absolute divorce of the stage from
mere wealth and aristocracy... It is now the
property of educated 'eople. It has to
satisfy them or pine in neglect.
This is a manager's optimiom - indeed an actor'o or>timio.:i -
and it was through such managers that Vac author had to roach
his public. Various alternatives were eourjht to the conditiono
of the fashionable, commercial theatre, but in the chapters that
follow it is the .vork of the reformists i;hat is examined, rather
than that of the revolutionists.
i. Tiio author and the, theatre.
In one reopect the ; ut:.or*G lot had improved since the i::i-Mle
of the century: he v/as bettor paid. George Au ;-uctus Sala and
hie brother Chcries, dissatisfied with their pocition under
Charles .lean's raanaco^ent of tlio Princecs's, toolc thoir service

59
- and their version of The Oorsican Brothers -to the Surrey
Theatre, whore Creowick and Shepherd offered them twenty-five
shillings a ni^ht in royalties: "a sum considered in those
days to be prodigious for an author»G rights at a minor theatre".
This was in tho eighteon-fifties. Boucicault, retained as author
at the Princecs'e, was receiving in the early eightecn-fifties
a calory not exceeding fifteen pounds a week an

60
would earn "not more than £1,500 or at the most .£2,000 a year"?
about half the salary of a barrister or a doctor. It should
be remembered that many dramatists were also menbers of a
profession - Gilbert was a barricter, for example, and Burnand
was editor of Punch,
The dramatist's work could bring considerable material
rewards, but it was at the aaie uime subject to conditions.
In a letter to The Times in 1888 Gilbert drew attention to the
resposibilities of p. theatrical manager, whose duty it was
... to keep an audience entertained from
half-past 7 to 11, with carefully-written
and elaborately-constructed stage plays
(represented by actors, who, in many cases,
must be provided with opportunities for the
display of their special abilities) and
probably involving at least three changes of
scene, which must of necessity be effected
v/ithin tho regulation 15 minutes of entr'acte.
(The Times. 2 flay 1888)
The entertainment required by oonagers differed from theatre
to theatre: at its lowoct level it can befound in the plays
presented by Augustus Harris at Drury Lone. Harris, enViucing
in a magazine article over tho democratic nature and didactic
effectiveness of the Drury Lane melodramas, onumorrted the
qualities expected by an average Dmry Lane audience:
They deciond a performance which, muot be, above
all things, dramatic, full of life, novelty,
and rr.over.icnt; treating, as a rule, of the age
in which v;e live, dealing ith characters they
can cyupathise v/ith, and .vritten in a language
they can crcily understand. It must be v;cllmounted,
well-acted, and should appeal rather
to the feelings of the public at large than to
the prejudice of a class.o
It was by the successful meeting of tliece denands that Harris
earned .ernarci Shaw's contor.ot - "Qviite Vie most enthral'.in,-;
memorial ox him would be the publication of Ms accounts"
q
.
' 'he cruc enesc of the "days produced for cuch rn audience
wan a cau;.;e of :iucii discontent among rcoonciblo criticc. i^ahii
ac cui example the opinions of the rovio\?er enoloyed by Vanity
Fair,a fachionablo a.nc not over-cole.:n v;eekly, i;c find tlint in
1882 the playgoer was offered tlireo successive kinds of r:elodrr-
In Jciiuary v;ac tiie -nrociore of Henry ^et-Ji^t'G /aJ:on fro::: Life

61
at the Adelphi - it had a simplicity which the critic could
accept:
This theatre is the real cradle of this I:ind
of amusement, and lilr Pettitt has rushed boldly
and bravely at his work. To fino v/riting or
delicacy of phrasing he has made no pretence,
but he slashe-: his sentiments and high-flown
dialogue about right fearlessly.
(7 January 1882)
This the critic can enjoy, but in August Drury Lane presented
Pluck; a Story of 050,000 by Augustus Harris and Henry Pettitt:
nothing that mechanist's or scene-paint er*s
art can manage has been unat temp ted; the
cupper of horrors (in seven courses) ic full
and complete., ^ut what of the play and the
characters? Do they interest? Are they real?
Hot a bit of it. In the mad hunger after "effect"
the authors. ..have crushed all semblance of
humanity out of their pu pets.
(12 Au^st 1882)
The incidents of Pluck include a double train crash, an interrupted
wedding-breakfast (with the arvest of the bridegroom),
the installation of the corpse of a murdered banker in a Chatwood
safe and the appearance of all the characters (with excerfcion
of the bnnkor) outside the Criterion Restaurant during a
snowstorm. Durin~ the aone snowetorn a lone-loot child is
encountered by its father in the middle of Piccadilly Circus
at dead of night. The villain dies with no .ittle eclat during
a fire .vhich destroys a three-storey slum. George Awaictus
oala, in The Illustrated London Rev/a, found the :lay little more
than a succession of sensation scenes, and thought that the
public uuct by nor; bo v/oary of such exhibitions - he adduced
the cool firat-ni-ht reception in curort of this. (12 ra.^ust
1882). ".hat no t?« asked Verity Pair, '"Jhrll we drone tise the
r'.eluge or the Apocalypse?".
As i ? in answer to this cry of unarym;/- reviewers, ?lio
Silver Kin/; was produced by llson Barrett at the Princess's
in "ovonbor. This dranaticed neither Deluge not Apocalypeo
and was frankly loyal to its ^elourcuncitic origins; itc r>lot
deals with the -vrongful conviction anc' dispoececsion of the
hero, his escape froia the IDA?, and Ms oventuo.1 return to
material iaic spiritu;;.! tvell-boiug. The Dlay uses "otock"
char .cterc - Jc'.il:oo f a faithful old servant, Helly Denver, the

62
hero* a faithful wife, and Geoffrey Ware, a subsidiary villain
killed at the end of the firt/b act. Motivations are simple and
strongly expressed - in .Vare's case an early rivalry for Nelly's
hand is made sufficient reason for a lifetime's hatred of the
hero. Apart from some novelty of plot, especially in the hero's
prolonged and nearly catastrophic loss of memory, Th@ Silver
King has the lines of an old-fashioned melodrama: it w;?s considered
to be a simple inversion of East Lynne.
The appeal of the play lay in its avoidance of Drury Lane
excesses. Vanity Fair exulted:
The authors ...have by no means fought shy of
the startling or the shudder-rsroducing business;
but the tesired effect is produced by excellently
- contrived situations, rapid, concentrated dialogue,
and good acting - not by fire, noise, or smoke.
(25 November 1882)
In The Illustrated London News Clement Scott, who had taken
over c'.ranatic notices from iJala, wrote:
There is a rift in the clouds, a break of blue
in the dramatic heavens, arid it seeius as if we
v;ere sic fairly at the and of the unlovely.
(25 November 1882)
A critic, possibly Scott, in The Theatre congratulated Barrett
on the literary qualities of the ?lry:
The tone of The Silver King is pitched in a
much higher key than the ordinary xacloc'ramL.s
of the uc'-y, and, in truth, it must not be confounded
with the sensational panoramas which
nowadays c-o of ton pass for plays. The dialogue
of the play is throughout clever and witty, and
much of the language is lofty and poetic...
The author concluded - in tcr^o tynical of Clement ocott's
criticism - by pronluncing Tlio oilvcr 'ting "thoroughly honest
in purpose, dramatic, pathetic, full of human nature, and,
v;it:ial, an original drama of English life, and sentiment, and
feeling". (The Theatre.. n. a. VI (1382) 357-360). 7ho dialogue
was praised by I:!p.tthew Arnold in The rail L ..11 gazette.
,,.in general throughout the pie'6^ ^^e fiction
ana sentiments fir© natural, they have sobriety
and propriety, they arc literature.
(6 Ucc ember 1882)^
This w s "an excellent and hopeful sign".
The dialogue does not seem quite as fresh as it nay have

63
in 1882, but v;ith the exception of a few passages - notably
the hero's description of a dream in 11,2 - it is unpretentious
and life-like. The villainous "Spider" has some lines which
anticipate the manner of Shavian dialogue: at the beginning of
the third act the villain and his wife are in the parlour of
their villa at Bromley. The vdfe, looking out of the window at
the thickly-falling snow, suggests that "The Spider" is being
needlessly cruel in evicting a poor widow and her family from
a cottage he owns. This does not seem to be intended as a
comic situation - Bromley would suggest the affluence of a man
able to live in the countryside of Kent, and not the suburban
j2,
dullness which the name now invokes. The villain's reasons for
proceeding v.ith his cruelty have the cynical humour we associate
with Andrew (Jndershaft or Alfred Doolittle: he is determined
not to have poor people cluttering his grounds -
.. .It's no fault in England to b© r»oor. It's
a crime. That's the reason I'm rich. 12
The part was played by the much-admired melodramatic actor,
E.S.' 'illard, and, according to .The. Illustrated Sporting and
Drama t i c : lews , would have been hissed in the customary manner,
"but that the audience feared to lose one line of his, much
as they disapproved of his morals and sentiments." (25 T'?ov 1882)
The success of The Silver King was due to its enlivening
of a dying genre - it was felt that rj.olodrnma, whilst relying
upon certain simplifications and extravagances of writing and
presentation, v;rs subject to certain restrictions. At Drury LanQ
the siimlicitioe; of plot and chare c tor were being used to link
together scenes of spectacular rather than pathetic interest.
Harris was cultivating an inferior kind of exoticism. Barrett's
efforts at the -rincess'o wore, he claimed on the play's
hundredth night, "to raise what for want of a better word was
calico ".Iclodrana into the region of literature and poetry, and
natural tragedy" and to "orocTuce on the melodramatic otn^e v:ork
which would have a more than ephemeral existence" (The Times.
19 Marcli 1882).
liile some ..ritors of po,-al:,r ploys wore a celling the
e-.-'-irov'J. of literary men, some literati v;erc attempting to
occomodrto their tnlentc to t»ie cta^c. In "literary" nlrv/s

64
two procoedures can bo observed: the author seeking to
a remote and picturesque situation familiar, or giving to
frmiliar situations a touch of the remote end picturesque.
As en example of the former process one might take .illiam
Gorman Wills *s "Tragedy" Juana, produced by Wilson P,urrctt ot
the Court v-icatre in liny 1881, with designs by E.W.Godwin and
Helen i'-Iocjeska in the title role. The play deals v;ith the love
of a t'nar i'or a opo.nish noblewoman - he had been her lover,
but prudently tore himself ry.vay and took orders, much as a
sensible person, with no feeling for poetic justice, might
join the French Foreign uorlon. >iov. the Friar returns, foolishly,
to become Juana* E coni'essor, and to mortify himself vdth the
spectacle of her becoming the betrothed of another, less worthy
man. The story is extravrfcrjit and violent, and itssetting
exotic, but 'Jills labours to make it familiar* Aft or the dishonour
of a poor reception in London, .'ills revised the play:
both versions, the second entitled The Ordeal; A Trrgedy in
Three Acts entirely reconstructed from Juana, are in the Lord
Chamberlain* c collection of plays.
In tho preface to the first version alls claims that
he has aimed for a natural effect in his verse - "a short
line is so often precious to an actor - monotonous finish
so often fntal". .Hie rvoiclance of "monotonous finish" apnoars
to owe something to lirowning* s influence, but v/hereas Brov/ning's
tic verse v;r.s "difficult" in recponce to tlie "difficulty"
of liic thoughts, Willc's ahov;s a poet striving by onjpri'bo .'cut
and misplaced rhythms for the co:.jnon touch:
Poclro
As to tho now confessor, Friar John,
I know kirn better thnn thou wottest of;
He V;:O.G ny 1 cly'e tutor, tauLrJit uc r.ll
I over :nov;. T^at ic a pretty snoci:,
Is't wool? Ho, linen.
liis finger S3 on her
i'riar Jm. /., the goomy lover, has a talent for feeble sent
neos:
. :rioml;".hip cannot koop rsaco v;ith floetfoot joy,
And r/rrtuiation nlayr? the hys^ocr
ftejoicing in m ui-iicnor ,n jubilee.

Ped.ro «s speech is tja example of vero© pretending to toe cacraal
and unpretentious, Friar John»e ic the reverse - often fllllo
oociro both effects into {speeches of renarkable bathoo. toter
in t^e first act Pricr John plays the ox .-on whileJuana and
Corloo, the now lover* look out upon the Ic-nuccano visible
through tne t.rchct of the loggia t
season ie too Inte for
r*it oee the porae^mnate in crimcon blooaon
Like little flowery auncoto underneath
rhoir cloud of loaves j beyond io a wild ilain
Flushing ivith heather* You cm see ''r-:::^.cl
fhic io nninly for the audience »c benefit, for Carlo0 is not
afflicted v.itfi :>oor eycoiriit* Indeedf he lino other preoccupations »
f;;horo is no ciif.rra outaide today, ay love,
'.hilot th

66
speeches and tableaux. This was a common criticism of poetic
dramatists. In a review by Sidney Lee of Colombe's Birthday,
produced at St. George's Hall in November 1885, we find the
accusation levelled at Browning:
...Mr Browning is unable to control the rapid
workings of his awn intelligance, and leaves gaps
in his dramatic argument to be supplied by the
reader,or spectator at the expense of much
mental labour, which the supreme artist i.e.
Shakespeare invariably spares him.
(The Academy. 28 November 1885)
Archer complains of Tennyson's Queen Maryt
There is nothing in it of the conflict essential
to a true drama. The scenes follow each other
without vital connection. It is a oanorama
of a period of history, its sole claim to organic
unity lying in the elaborate and interesting
character-study which gives the play its name,,g
This is reminiscent of the accusation against such liocec as
Pluck, that they were simply a succession of spectacular tableaux,
lacking organic shape.
The Athenaeum, in a notice of Tennyson 1 s The Cup and The
Falcon (1884), offered a lengthy discussion of the problems
encountered by poets who wished to write for the theatre. One
almost insurmountable obstacle was the prevailing mode of
realism, f;iven added v/eight by the technical refinements of
illusionist ccene building. It was by now an accepted fact
"that literary beauties aeem positively out of place in an
o,cted play, whether tragic or comic, being destructive of
that realism which the dramatist ic obliged to moke his one
quest" (8 Uarch 1884). Three of the Laureate*o plays v;cro
performed in the ei;.;hte en-eighties: The Falcon (St. James's,
18 December 1880), The Cup (Lyceum, 3 January 1881), and Tho
Promise of Jay (Globo, 11 November 1884). Socket r/rs performed
at the Lyceum on 6 February 1893» four months after the poet's
death on 6 October 1092.
Tho tv/o early productions wc^e ftiure notable fjz their
stewing than for any outstanding literary qualifies in the text.
In The Promise of May Tennyson attempted a modern rubjcct rind,
so f.'-'r as he v/ao able, a drama of ideas: the ^lay was v/ritten
in -rcn.0 and verso, and dealt v/ith the relationship betv/cen

Philip Edgar, 'a free-thinking artist, v/ho lounges about...
dressed in the garb of Bedford D ">rk and Hnmpatoad, and perusing
as he goes the last volume of the very newest philoaopiy", and
Eva, "{?. simple minded young girl". He betrays Eva's trar.t, and
after explaining his ideas on free love, leaves hor. Six years
pass, and Dora, Java's sister, believes the seduced pirl, who
has disappeared, to be dead* Philip Edgar re-appe; rs (passing
himself off as Harold, a kinsman of the now notorious seducer),
and Dora falls in love v ith him* Faraer Dobcon, "the incarnation
of all that is straight forward and all tavt is orthodox", icctc.
Udg: r fine: challenges hin, but he dainc to be NT Id and escapes
unharmed* Edgar is ready to marry Dora - he h. s learned his
le son - but Eva returns, after "yenrs of servitude and misery",
,o ask her father's forgiveness* Unfortunately her father is
too old to u:i''!< rr.tand .- -ny thing* She 'juddenly m'ots :dx T and
drops down dead at his f et. "These" arid 'rer"crick edmore,
whose Academy notice has been quoted above, "are pathetic p GSa
t-;ea, and they hn.ve their value". (1° IIovo ..ber 1884). Dobson
returns, and is bout to deal brutally with Rdg-:r, but Tora
prevents iiiu, arguing that as id,,ctr io re;>ent^nt and she loves
jiir.i, he : ho old be cpr.:red* t^^r r.u?.£t lec'.ve the vil'.':f:e f and
when the curt:..in ±' 11s ; or: is 1'ft alone, to fr.ce a lifetime
of lonelinesc. The actions of ii^ar, Dora and :-va -re ; et in
cone sort of pore -icctive by a ciioi-irj of nro;.:e-Uj')cc-l*in;; i1 -. tics
and tlic tv/o 'iris, unlike their old father, do not sjpeak
di; 1-ct.
The -:lay anjo.-'rcj to ov;e co^'./uiiin," to Hardy, both in thone
and ;;roat r :orit, though Teniiycon's co:i' •- r*s ch; r; ctor is crudely . : r-^-n rand hio iotives
in returning to the village poorly rcoounted for. It v/as too

great a coincidence that Eva should seek her father's forgiveness
at the precise moment of Edgar*a return.
Having adopted a realistic and modern subject, Tennyson
appears to have treated it in a semi-realistic manner. Philip
Edgar enters in act One, soliloquisingi
This author, with hie che,rm of simple style
And close dialectic, all but ?:>roving n: n
An automatic series of sensations,
Has often numb'd me into apathy,
Against the unpleasant jolts of this rough road
That breaks off short into the abysses - made me
A Quietist taking all things easily,
19
Edgar tispenses free-thinking to the audience with the intimacy
of Hamlet or Richard III, but he has nothine of any urgency
to confide, no scheme to justify. The verse has a limpness
and repose that bespeak the character's dullness, and his
moments of figurative language are laboured and unilluminating:
C onvent i onali sm,
VUio shrieks by day at what she doe; by night,
v'oulcl c- 11 this vico; but one time's vice may be
The virtue of another; and Vice and Virtue
Are but two macks of self; and what hereafter
Shall mark out Vice from Virtue in the d~alf
Of never-dawning c!arkness? 0Q
The hero'c introc lection is plainly in debt to that of Hamlet,
but lie does not live in a world of objects - he livec by ideas,
and !ais soliloquies con >arc one idea with anotlior. Edgar has
probably never seen a bare bodkin, and whereas Hamlet's reflections
arc -rovokoc' by hfinjeh circunictances and dilemmas, Edgar'L
are the prevailing: taste for realism in strain:.: end writing.
Irving could "do justice" to Tennyson only when provided with
material subcervient to his peculiar talents as an ctor and
producer, v/liicii will be discussed presently, and for Irving's
purposes Tennyoon'0 texts were eimply a more illustrious
equivalent for those of .ills and Comyns Crrr. But before
examining the nature and ambitions of pictorial sta^in^, it
will be u&eful to ^Look at a commercially : ucceccful olayv/rit ht' s
attempts to write on cerious tonics.
Arthur -ing Pincro ostabliciieC himself as a writer of
comedies am' farces t urin/; tae eight eon-eighties, and in tiie

ensuing deceide turned to the serious treatment of problematic
subjects. The work that has survived in the modern repertoire
from hie early output IB limited to the farces Dandy Dick (1887)
and The Magistrate (1885). To contemporaries Pinoro appeared
one of a group of young playwrights whose work had a solidity
and frshness of dialogue more rewarding than that of the
older authors, Byron and Gilbert, Of The Magistrate (Court
Theatre, 21 ilarch 1885) The Referee observed:
Though the piece is termed a farce, the
situations are evolved in a perfectly rational
manner, and many a so-called comedy is far
more preposterous in its development. Some
of the episodes are irresistibly laughable
and the dialogue, with the exception of a few
lines, is extremely smart.
(22 March 1885)
Clement Scott, in The Illustrated London News, found the
dialogue "written v;ith a dry iiumour and quaintness of expression
very seldom found in the best plays of tlic kind" (28 ;arch
1035). The praise of such qualities can be found in most
reviews of the early farces: Imprudence (Folly Theatre, 27
January 1881) was judged by The v/eekly Dispatch to be "vastly
superior to many oioces by more celebrated authors which have
gained the approval of tlie public" and to ocott it appeared
that in Dandy Dick (Court Theatre, 27 January ICC?) Pinero
land "paid as much attention to the dialogue" us if ho \voro
"writing a comedy that v;ould be live and be acted when ..e are
all riacceci away" (WD 31 July 1801, ILN 5 February l.?C7).By the
end of the decade Frederick .etfmoro could refer to Pinero as
"our greatest living master of the comedy that is farcical"
in the course of a notice of Kobert rueiir>nrua»s :'iss ?onboy
(Academy, 29 7orcli 1890).
Pinoro is credited with the creation of a nev; r:onre , a
resuscitation of farce comparable in ac devesient to ufoe Silver
King as a xvort-v.vliile racloclrrnr . Tr.erc ;vere some reservations,
the most important being the rccusrtioii that he was cynical.
The AC p.0. coy, suggested in its review of The Money oDinner (ot.
Jones, 8 January 1881) that, should Pincro "continuously study
the world he lives in as well ac< the Gtoge he acts upon" ho
might "probably give us work v;hich shall belong to literature

70
aa well r.a to the theatre", but discerned a cynicism it attributed
to theatrical cliche (29 January 1881). Of Lords and
Commons (Haymarket 24 November 1883) The Athenaeum observed:
He will do better and more successful work.,,
when he will infuse into his plays more human
sympathy. (1 December 18Q3)
Clement Scott compared the same play with the work of Tom
Robertson, who was "loved" and popular,
Because with all his cynicism he looked upon
the best side of human nature, hoped for the
beet, loved the best, encouraged the best.
Pinero, on the other hand, was "altogether too clever":
...he writes too well, he is too epigrammatic
and thoughtful, to be led a;vay by the
heartlecsness and emptiness of the age he
loves*
He might show signs of cyniciam but for him, as for Robertson,
there was hope (Illustrated London IJCWG, 1 December 1883).
Pinero made two important excursions into serious drama
during the eighteon-eighties. The first, in 1881, was The Squire.
which generated some controversy as to whether the author had
plagiarized Far From The Madding Crowd (published in 1874).
It v; D reasonably successful and Scott w.s very kind to the
&ew dramatist in his Daily Telegraph review:
not a success only in an ordinary and conventional
sense; its merit is deeper, its vrortli more oolid
than one is accustomed to find in the hollow ring
of theatrical applause.
It shared the qualities of Hardy's novels, Scott observed with
no ironic intention, as though the novelist "had turned crojnatic
autlior",The Squire v;c.s "Jnglish and true, dramatic and
interesting, sound and good" (30 December 1881). "English" as
a term of o/nnrobation is common in Scott's critical vocabulary:
here it carries two meanings. In the first place, Piiic-ro's
play w s not based on a French original; in sedition, it was
free from an objectionable worldliness, in so far as it did
not c'eal with salacious persons or actions, and was not cynic*0--?-'
The connection between cynicisn and "".n^iish-ness" cn.n be ace.:.
in ^cott's review of Sweot LavPm.grtPinero»s second neijor "drama".

71
Scott responded to the "genuine humour and wholesome manly
sentiment" in the play - it was thoroughly "English" and
Pinero appeared to have lost the cynicism which Scott disliked.
Formerly he had been compared, like Robert son, to Thackeray t
now he was likened to Dickens, Scott reported that the firstnight
audience were much movedt
. the laughter that pealed around the house
was only occasionally checked by those fits
of sudden coughing that denote suppressed
emotion.
(Illustrated London News. 21 March 1888)
He doei not attempt to differentiate between suppressed
emotion and the effects of March winds,
Sweet Lasrender (Terry's Theatre, 21 March 1888) has not
been treated kindly by posterity. By 26 November 1890 it had
completed a total of seven hundred and thirty-seven performances
at Terry's, and by 5 November 1891, six hundred and ninetyseven
performances had been given in the provinces . To I/ax
Beerbohm, in 1899, it seemed a link with Tom Robert son "with
some, at least, of the modern improvements", while to a more
recent critic it is no more th in "an ably concocted v/eepie with
no noticeable claims to sense" . The plot is indeed sentimental,
and its reminders that wealth and virtue arc not synonymous
is typical of Robertson, Clement Halo and Dick Phenyl share
rooms in the Temple, where they are cared for by Ruth Holt,
housekeeper and launderess. She has a daughter, called Lavender,
and is to all appearances a rccpectrble widow, Dick is an
alcoholic and is the subject of Clement's attempts to cure him;
Clement, for his part, is in love with Swcot Lavender, whom he
is tutor-ing. But Clement is the adopted con of a rich banker,
i/edc'Lirburn, who wishes him to marry hie niece, ".linnie Gilfillian.
A young and brash American, Horace Bream, arrives with the nev.s
that . rs Gilfillian and Minnie have returned to London from the
Continent, and Clement, witl-i come reluctance, prepares to GO
and meet them at their hotel, hile he is dressing, Dick decides
that Lavender ought to be sent t-j the country, and prepares to
sell his books to pay for her journey. Presently, Clement
emerges f orn his room, fines Lavender in the sitting-room, and
declares his love, which she requites, "rs Gilfillian and ,:innio
arrive, and Clement's declaration is discovered, -.fter euLimon-

72
ing Ruth Holt and speaking with her, Mrs Gilfillian t;its
down to write a telegram to the banker. As she is writing,
Ruth notices some photographs of Wedderburn which Iro Gilfillian
has brought for Clement, and which are lying on the table.
ohc "stares at them for a moment blankly "t
Ruth
Commanding nerself •- going a step or two
Dick* Mr Phenyl, Pointing to the photograph
.;ho - who is that?
Dick
Mr Wedderburn^ I think.
Ruth
ith a start* tfedderburnl
Dick
Banker at Barnchenter - Mr Hale is his
adopted son,
Ruth
In - indeed. After a pause, she .iocs Quickly
to Mrs Gilfillian, and whispers* ilndaml Madam I
Mrs Gilfillian turns You - you have misunderstood
me. I - I give you my word my daughter shall
never marry 1r Hale.
Mrs Gilfillian Rising, wit> the written telegram
in her hand. What I
Ruth
Glancing round. I ! usli !
Lr -.vend or enter s _tlio jas. :;;;- , and
takes up the tray i'ro.'.i -u-ic butlorVs
ctrnd. Clo^ont follows and stands
vvhi ^poring to her, /riinnie and liorc'co
arc in close conversation,
END OF FItfoT ACT OC
£y
The secret of Ruth Holt is, of course, that Lavender is v/etlderburn'a
child, and this emerges in the final act, ..leonwhile,
Wedderburn returns, ciica.oprovec of Clement *EJ warria^G to
Lavender, confronts ^uth, and realises that ehe is his former
mistress (a recognition left to the r.ucience's imagination) .
,ord arrives t-iat Wedderburn 1 c pvrtnorr. have obcconclcd and
his bank has failed. ,-0 are informed incidentally t-v/t Pick

73
Phenyl had. inherited a fortune which is lost in the failure.
Consequently Mrs Gilfillian and Minnie are impoverished, and
take up temporary residence in the rooms. So does the shocked
and ailing Wedderburn. By the end of the play Minnie has
decided to accept the proposals of Horace Bream, Lavender
returns from her exile, Wodd rburn 's creditors release him
from his most crushing obligations (thanks to Phenyl, who is
chief creditor). Everyone is the better for their experience,
especially !>rs Gilfillian, who was dragonish in the days of
her wealth and is now gentle and affectionate. We L re not
told tacit V/edderburn will marry Ruth - indeed he yromices
never to reveal Lavender *,s origin.
The plot is entirely conventional, an optimistic picture
of what ought to happen in the circumstances, rather t/u.n
what ni^ht. For Wedderburn to marry his mistress v/oulcl be
unacceptable? for Dick Phenyl to renounce his claims on ,Yedderburn
for the sake of the failed banker and his relations is
praiseworthy and, in the play's terms, probable; that Mrs
Gilfillian should be chastened into humanity is in accordance
v.ith tho best Hobertsonian virtues. Scott, an ard, nt supporter
of those moral standards and t -.ic achievements of Tom Robert son,
found plenty to appeal to hio susceptibilities. The play uses
aorrlity, rat -LOT than submits io to any scrutiny.
v/hen Sweet Lavender waa published by Ileineman in 1093,
as one of a series of Pinero'e /Layo, it appeared with a
preface disclaiming any serious intention:
The very simplicity and impretmtiousness of
this doaustic comedy have app.-ron-ly disarmed
any antagonistic criticism which might have "been
expected fron thoce.critics of cynical temper
and pessimistic mood who are wont to look for
the stern realities of life cvon in tae most
our osely genial of theatrical entertainments.
The author "rwo\vedly cesi^ed the dece as a pleasant enter
tc.iiL-uent", and \vc-.s content to hrive it rer;rr^ed as "a sort of
modern fairy-tale ratlier than actual and realistic study of
life" . This ic not quite in accord r;itii the -olay's description
in the programmes (and in its printed text) cs "an origin, 1
domestic drr.raa", which suggests more strenuous ar/bition. viic
"Caotious Critic" of The Illustrated Snorting and r; w tic
ITovvc took the point up:

74
I note, by the bye, that Sweet Lavender in the
playbill is described as a drama* From"a drama
we expect a lesson, or at least a serious purpose*
Beyond its attempts at character and laughter,
which are partially successful, I do not see much
purpose in Mr Pinero*s latest play.
(7 April 1888)
The play is in many respects equivocal* Wedderbum* s relationship
with Ruth, and Dick Phenyl's pathetic dipsomania, are
hardly comic. Mrs Gilfillian is, in the first instance, a
ludricous caricature. Her demeanour and her speeches occasion*11?
fore-shadow Lady Bracknell - of the pushy Horace Bream she
confides to Clement:
We shall never shake him off* He saved Minnie's
life in Paris by pulling her from under a tramcar
in the Avenue Mirabeau** *So careless of her
to get there1 I closed my eyes and in imagination
heard the crackling of her bones. This person
rushed forward and restored her to the sidewalk,
as he will persist in calling the pavement. 27
Mrs Gilfillian is conceived, in the first act, as an artificially
callous and cynical figure t later she is given more human
attributes. The change is not so much the development of a
personality, as an alteration in the dramatist's method.
Bream never develops, and we are led to a. sume that a change
in Minnie brings about the change in her attitude to him*
Wedderbum is a thankless part for an actor, demanding an
"overnight" transformation from a paternal worldling to repentant
and sententious sinner.
These inconsistencies suggest a degree of indecision in
Pinero's mind as to what kind of play he was writing. Alongside
crudities of plot - coincidences, poor exposition, and
an absurdly providential happy reunion of Ruth and Wedderbum
brought about by a deus ex machina, Doctor Delaney - is a wellcontrived
and interesting character, Dick Phenyl. Phenyl, being
a drunkard, is obliged to feign sobriety, and has a self-awareness
which is quite unlaboured. Whereas Wedderbum, Mrs Gilfillian,
Minnie and Huth are allowed to comment without subtlety
on their new-found knowledge of themselves, Phenyl knows from
the beginning what sort of man he is, and is aware of each
mood as he passes througjj it. Max Beerbohm described the
technique require^ of the actor playing Phenyl as "the grotesquepathetic
style"

75
Melodrama and farce deal in simple, unqualified emotions
and characters, and it seems clear that Pinero aimed for
equivocal and complex effects. Phenyl is a drunken barrister,
strangely dependent upon the young, hearty man with whom he
shares lodgings* Like the Dean of St. Marvel!»s in Dandy Dick
or the title character of The Magistrate he is forced to take
stock of his settled opinions of himself and of life* the
characters are not simply brought to an extreme test of virtue,
or mace ridiculous by forfeit of dignity, as the persons in
melodrama or farce might be, but are submitted to a subtler
and more reflective profess of self-revaluation. In Sweet
Lavender some of the characters are put through the extreme
test of fortitude and humanity, and the result is sentimentality.
It is likely that Pinero never found the effective way
of accomplishing his aims within the commercial theatre t The
Second Mrs Tanqueray owes its essential failure as much to the
author*s inability to dispense with or modify crudities of plot
as to the shortcomings in his understanding of people that Shaw
oq
discerned. y In the farces the presence of conventional dilemnas
and characters can subserve the presentation of fullydeveloped
and recogniaably human beirtges in the serious plays,
for some reason, the contrived situations and false characters
are too intimately involved with the difficulties encountered
by the central character. The means by which Pinero could make
the fatigued genre of farce new and vital could not be applied
with success to "drama".
The four plays duscussed above are representative of the
way in which some authors were attempting to alter and develop
the existing forms of popular play: none of them has survived
in the repertoire of the nineteen-seventies, and of Pinero»s
plays only the major farces can command a popular audience -
one, The Magistrate, has received six important London revivals
since the turn of the century (in 1943, 1944, 1950, 1964 and
1969). Apart from Pinero f s work and the Savoy Operas, nothing
of the prodigious dramatic output of the eighteen-eighties
survives on the contemporary stage. A count based on reviews
published in The Times shows that twenty-two pieces by F.C.Burnand
were produced in the course of the decade, and four of his older
plays revived; twenty-three by H.J.Byron, who died in

76
were produced, twelve of them revivals; of twenty-one pieces
by W.S.Gilbert in repertoire, eleven were revivals, and ten
out of the total number were collaborations with Sullivan;
Robert Buchanan, remarkable for industry and pretension if
not for genius* had twenty-four new plays produced, and George
R.Sims, whose income has been cited above, saw the production
of sixteen new playa in which he had at least a mato. finger.
These figures are not conclusive, for The limes was selective
in its reviewing policy, and did not always print notices
of new or revived curtain-raisers, or revived main pieces*
Gilbert is performed only as librettist to Sullivan, Sims is
remembered mainly for his melodramatic monologues, Buchanan
is known to literary historians mainly on account of his
attack on Roasetti and Swinburne, The Fleshly School of Poetry,
in 1870, and Burnand'a adaptation of Madison Morton's Box and
Cox (Cox and Boy* with music by Sullivan) is the only relic of
his work that is performed today. Byron*s pantomimes have
received some attention from The Pantomime Society of Great
Britain, and an adaptation of one of his Cinderella scripts
was performed in 1970 by the Oxford University Dramatic Society,
under the direction of Gyles Brandreth.
Harley Granville-Barker described the "drama of the early
»eighties" as "a rather childish affair"*
A fancy dress bazaar in the Vicarage garden,
with everyone enjoying it very innocently;
suddenly the wind veers to the east! Such
was Ibsen's advent. ,Q
There is a good deal of justice in the remark, but it seems
clear that some dramatists were attempting, with a measure
of success, to enlarge the scope of the theatre - which often
meant conferring upon it the dignity of literature. In 1892
Pinero wrote to Archer:
A few years ago the native authors were working
with a distinct and sound aim and with every
prospect of popularising a rational, observant,
home-grown play. Then came the Scandinavian
drama, held up by the New Critics as the Perfect
drama and used by them as a means of discrediting
native produce. Just for the present everything
is knocked askew; the English, dramatist has little
influence, and the public urged to witness A Poll's
House, patronises the Empire Theatre of Varieties J

77
The dramatists of the eighteen-eighties were not a very
impressive or effective group, hut they did explore a number
of ways in which later authors were able to follow.
play and
The improvement in remuneration of playwrights was accompanied
by a higher social standing and increased influence within tte
theatrical profession. The reasons for this are unclear - perhaps
the English stage adopted French attitudes to playwrights along
with the texts and production standards that it tried to
imitate* When Boucicault worked for Charles Kean, he was
essentially a poorly-paid hack with no professional influence
in the adaptations he made: when he re-appeared at the Princess's
now managed by Vining, in 1865, he was author, director and
chief actor in the Irish plays which made his fortune in
America, Ireland and England. As if by way of reparation, his
own translation of Arrah-na-Pogue was acted
...at the Theatre de la Galete, Paris, for 140
nights, and received by the French press and
public with the same pleasure it aroused in
England, amd wherever in the world the English
language is spoken*
Boucicault *s success was that of an actor-manager who wrote
his own plays, and may be claimed as a success for the dramatist
*s profession* As a stage-manager he has been credited
with the introduction of the "box-set" into American theatres
and the initiation of tke touring company - known in America
as the "combination" or road company-* The balance of power
between actor, company manager and author must have varied
from company to company, possibly from platj to play within a
company* It seems reasonable to suppose that the touring
companies owed their origin to a desire on the part of the
play*s proprietors to have it- adequately represented in the
provinces by touring facsimiles of the metropolitan production
wherever the original oast did not tour. By the end of the
eighteen-ei unties this proceedure had for most purposes replaced
the "stock" system, and many commentators complained that the
old regime had given young actors the chance to develop a
versalility which could not be acquired by the constant repetition
of one performance.

78
These changes in the way in which plays were commercially
exploited reflect a change in the nature of the dramatic events
the text was no longer an independent property, to be sold to
provincial managers to treat ae they wished} nor was it the
possession of one actor, who might play it anywhere with whatever
support and in whatever staging the looal impressario
could provide* It had become part of an ensemble - company,
scenery, business and text - the whole of which must be
presented together.
The degree of influence enjoyed by the author depended upon
the individual circumstances. Gilbert, the best-known example
of an author who "directed" his plays without being an actor
or manager, was able to demand strict adherance to his intentions.
In April 1885 he wrote to John Hare outlining his terms for
the performance of his plays:
The money made by these performances is not the
only matter to be considered* If the pieces are
badly produced - if "gag" is introduced - if any
coarseness or vulgarity should find its way into
the pieces, I should like to be able to feel an
end to the agreement.
Gilbert told William Archer that "the author who cannot be his
•JC
own stage-manager is certainly at a serious disadvantage" .
in this opinion he was voicing the sentiments of a number of
authors - Boucicault, Pinero, Tom Hobertson among them - who
insisted not only on the integrity of their text, but on adher-
3nce to their directions.
/hen Caste was produced, in April 1867, "Under the Superintendence
of the Author", it was hailed by The Illustrated
London News as an indication "that an English school of dramatic
writing is among the possibilities of no very remote future"»
some two or three English authors have already
arrived at theatrical direction or influence,
and manifest a power which the public is willing
to acknowledge. (13 April 1867)
The Times credited Robertson with the integration of literary
and theatrical techniques, and "an eye to picturesque effects".
'.These effects arose "less from the employment of accessories
than from the arrangement of groups that are the natural result
of the action..." (11 April 1867) When the Bancrofts retired
in 1885 The Era claimed that "the whole system of 'putting on» -

79
perhaps the whole theory of comedy acting - felt the effect
of them", and drew analogies between the sentiment of the
Robert soni an comedies and their staging* The plays were part
of *a reaction into the commonplace of peace" following the
Crimean Wars
There was a general distaste for heroics, and
a sneaking kindness for the genteel f amongst all
classes of the community*
The plays were "instinct with Toryism 11 -
...not the angry Toryism of the present day, but
the comfortable Toryism of 1870. The gentlemen
are all honourable, handsome and refined. The
parvenues are invariably coarse, disgusting
creatures, as vulgar in mind as in manner and
appearance*
This was "easy, shallow, and open to objections" but it reflected
the theatre and its audiences
...a tiny theatre, where the stalls, boxes and
balcony were the paying portions of the audience,
where the pit and gallery were small, and somewhat
higher priced than at ordinary theatres.
But what fascinated the public most was the perfect
harmony of the whole entertainment. Never had been
such delicacy and dainty staging, such photographic
reproduction of familiar types.
(The Era. 24 January 1885)
Bancroft made much of the new-found respectability conferred
by his company upon the profession. Robertson "rendered a
public service by proving that the refined and educated classes
were as ready as ever to crowd the playhouses"* Thiu was a
direct result of the truthfulness of staging and acting, for
"in those now far-off days there had been little attempt to
follow Nature, either in the plays or in the manner of
producing "^
The tendency to familiarity and intimacy in acting and
staging was continued by Bancroft's associates, Mr and Mrs
Kendal, in their own management, and by Clayton and Cecil at
the Court Theatre* On the closing of the Court in 1887, The
Era praised the two managers for their cultivation of "the
true comedy tone",
the habitude of quiet, unemphasized drollery,
the unconsciousness of the artist who feels his
audience so closely 'in touch* with him that
he is not impelled to exaggerate in order to
secure attention*
(30 July 1887)

Clayton in hie speech on the closing night proudly claimed
that he had "been careful never to make a play a medium for
advancing the interests of one person, to the detriment of
others" and avoided "what is known as the star-system"*^
It was for the Court that Pinero wrote Dandy Dick and The
Magistrate, and it was the theatrical values of Robert son
that he adopted in the writing arid staging of his plays. The
ultimate practical celebration of those values was Bancroft's
re-fitting of the Haymarket in 1880: the orchestra was bidden,
giving stalls spectators an uninterrupted view of the stage,
and the footlights were modified. According to Bancroft's own
account
My intention was to contrive* hidden footlights,
which, when the curtain fell, and was within a
few feet of them, would descend to make room for
the heavy roller, and which would, when the curtain
was raised, follow it immediately, so $hat the stage
should never perceptibly be darkened in either
case*
The auditorium was not to be raked as it was at Bayreuth, nor
were side-boxes dispensed with, but the aim was complete
illusion* To this end, the stage was surrounded with a huge
picture-frame; the effect was described by Henry James in an
artucle for ScribnerVs Monthly Magazine:
Brilliant, luxuriant, softly cushioned
and perfectly aired, it is almost entertainment
enough to sit there and admire the excellent
device by which the old-fashioned and atfkward
proscenium has been supressed and the stage
set all around in an immense gilded frame like
that of some magnificent picture,^3
But it was not quite entertainment enough: Bancroft opened hjs
new management with Lytton's Money». written for Jacready in
1840. However much the stage in its frame migfet glow "with a
radiance that seems the very atmosphere of comedy" it could not
b« denied that the play was, as James pointed out, "hackneyed".
Rot only could no new play be found: the transfer of th« pit
patrons to the gallery caused disturbances on the first night.
Wedmore, commenting on the affair in The Academy, complained
of a rise in the price of stalls from seven shillings to halfa
guinea, and blamed excessive and costly display in the staging:

81
A disproportionate outlay on scenic decoration
and furniture for the performance of modern
comedy - nay, even on the playhouse itself -
is at the root of the question* It began, no
doubt, with genuinely artistic intentions, and
has never been dissociated from good taste*
But what was an adroit and a justifiable bait to
begin with ends by being hardly an attraction at
all, and only a tyranny*
(7 February 1880)
Punch gave Bancroft the blunt advice, "Give us less costly
realism, and more real acting" (7 February 1880).
Enthusiasm for the virtues of Bancroft's method had
be&n qualified for some time by a fear that it imposed limit*
«
at^ons upon the writer who, by becoming a stage-manager, had
lost a larger freedom* It was the avoidance of heroism and
broad effects, whiclt The Bra attributed to the aftermath of
war, which was beginning to pall. Robert Buchanan wrote in
18761
The beet of Mr Robertson's drama surpass
the best of Mr Boucicault's, as the best of
Mr Blackmore's novels surpass the best of
Mr Trollope's - by virtue of their gleams of
simple poetic feeling... There is obviously
poetry in it - os situation, of picture, though
not of character and dialogue.
He felt that this attenuation of the literary content of
drama had been accompanied by a reduction of emotional scale,
and that there had been a consequent lessening of "the art
of the scene-painter, who used to produce grand effects by
Turaeresque delineations of the brush" - now it had been
"exchanged for the microscopic skill of the Cabinet designer",
In 1886 he added a postscr^ to this, in a less courteous
vein:
iVhen Robertson loomed above the horizon, the
world prepared for something cosmic, only to
discover that what it imagined to be a sun
was a sort of gigantic tea-cup.^
Punch's obituary verses on the death of Benjamin Webster,
who died in 1882, represent the "venerable sage" as turning
his back on f"coat-and-trouser* pieces and a milk-and-water
stage" and despising "a decorated drama and an Art of bric-
'a-brac" (22 Juiy 1882). The subtleties of the reformed stage

82
palled on many observers - the critic of Vanity Pair* whose
disgust with Pluck and delight in The Silver Kini^ hare been
mentioned in the preceding section, found solace in the fresher
air of the East End theatres* On October 7, 1882 he reviewed
Hope at the Standard. Islington* Mazsppa at Astley's and ?or
Ever at the Surreyt in the last named. George Conquest, as
an ape-man shased the heroine round the room and cut her to
pieces behind the sofa* The critic found such delights a
pleasant changes
A rare place is your East-End for acting, no
finickin fiddling with cigarettes, no toying
with teapots, no subtleties of situation, nor
delicacies of dialogue; but great big slashing
stuff, sturdy and strong, is slung at you as you
sit in your exceedingly comfortable three-shilling
stall in a smoking-jacket, if you are too idle to
dress.
It seemed that in the West End there was no alternative to
the genteel niceties of the Court, the St. James'a or the
Haymarket and the realistic but empty sensation scenes of
Drurji Lane and - increasingly - the Adelphi. Even pantomime
had been debased, and Truth, castigating Drury Lane for its
"pantomime of panoply rather than the pantomime of fun" laid
the blame at Bancroft's door - "Years ago the Bancroft* started
the era of stage extravagance" (2 January 1890). The story of
the yearly pantomime had been buried under the costly trappings
of costumes and scenery, and interrupted by processions and
dances designed to show off these appointments to their best
advantage.
If the literary content of pantomime was jeopardised, it
is not surprising to find the literary content of the classics
subordinated to display. Not ,only were new plays being written
to provide managements with excuses for lavish expenditure, but
old ones were being re-written. The vagaries of Bancroft's
productions of "old comedy" are representative.
Since Hobertson's death, in 1871, both the Bancrofts and
the Kendals had been obliged to seek new material. No English
author, save Gilbert in his less cynical and fantastic moods,
could provide plays of the right kind with a range defined by
domestic pathos at one extreme, and domestic comedy at the other,

83
Both managements had ^recourse to bowdlerized adaptations of
French plays and remnants of the eighteenth-century repertoire.
Bancroft had abandoned broad effects in acting which tfere
essential to the Comedy of Manners - a mode imitated by the
work of Lytton (in Money) and Boucicault (in London Assurance).
The"types" had been deposedi
I believe, at the time, I was by more than one
actor thought to be mad for venturing to clothe
what was supposed to be f more or less, a comic
part, in the qiietast of fashionable clothes, and
to appear as a pale-faced man with short, straight
black hair. The innovation proved to be as
successful as it was daring,, Q
The world of the comedy had changed, and it was no longer
viewed with the aristocratic - or, at least, "town" - detachwmt:
of the older comedy.
Changes in the nature of stage scenery, from the swift
changes of shutter-and-groove to the ponderous rhythm of setscenes
punctuated by carpenter-scenes, sorted ill with the
structure of plays like The School for Scandal. In 1874
Bancroft revised the comedy to make four single set scenes,
without any regard for the plot* Although Sheridan vouchsafed
Punch*s critic a visitation innwhich he pronounced the new
version "an improvement - yes, really an improvement - on my
own plan" (18 ApmL 1874), most of the reviewers shared Wedmore*s
dismay at the atrocity. In his Academy review he suggested tha t
Sheridan had been ill-used, but recognised that the author was
a secondary consideration for the manager:
ffirs Bancroft promised - and the promise has been
kept - that it should be produced with unexampled
attention to scenery and appointments. It should
illustrate last century life, and that would suit
the movement of the day.
(11 April 1874)
The "movement" was a renewed interest in eighteenth-century
architecture and decoration, to which the representation of
eighteenth-century characters in action clearly deferred.
Henry James, reviewing a production of the same play at the
Boston Museum in December of the same year, thought that
Bancroft had given a new lease of life to Sheridan, but found
the antique furnishings displayed on st$^,e "melancholy tokens
that, for a sceptical age, even The School for Scandal cannot

84
maintain itself on its intellectual merits alone"j
But if the chairs and tables in London were
very natural, the actors were rather stiff,
and the thing, on the whole, is better done at
the Boston Museum*...
Ten years later, when Bancroft revived The Rivals at the
Haymarket in a text revised by Pinero, reviewers complained
of the anaemic and lifeless quality of the actings
If. as there seems reason to fear, theatrical
art of the highest character is moribund, and
the vigorous, hearty, aggressive life of past
ages can only be shown through the opaque
lenses of today, the style of revival adopted
at the Haymarket is the best thing to be hoped.
(The Athenaeum. 10 May 1884)
Bancroft had lost the ability to stage and act all but the
most genteelly pallid simlacra of "old comedy 1**
The same difficulties were encountered by Mr and Mrs
Kendal at the St. James's. Their production of William and
Susan, in 1880, used a revision of W.G.wills of Douglas
Jerrold's Black-Ey*d Susan - first performed in 1L29. The
first two acts were completely re-written, eliminating the
villains Doggrass, Hacket and Raker and the comic Gnatbrain.
Captain Grosstree is now principal villain; he attempts to
woo Susan, is challenged by William and has the unfortunate
tar court-martialled for striking an officer. William is on
the point of being strung from the yard-arm, when it is reveal ed
that his discharge had been delayed by a villainous postman
(he, too, had designs on Susan). William was no longer in the
King's service when he struck Crosstree, and is saved from
hanging. The man w^o would tackle such stuff only two years
after H.M.S.Pinafoye (Opera Comique* 25 May,l8?8) needed to be
brave, but Wills was no coward in such matters, uilliam is expected
to speak the figurative language of stage sailors -
"All my cable is run out. I am brought to," he proclaims when
death is moments away, and as Susan prays for his release, he
proudly assertst
I die in defense of the virtue of a wife
- her tears will fall like spring rain on
the grass that covers my grave?.

85
A little of this goes a long ways Wills provides a good deal
of it, in the first act there is some simple and unforced
dialogue but Wills*s "fine writing** devolve* on some long
passages of unbearable sentimentality. Characteristic of these
is William*s answer to Susan's question," And you knew I was
thinking of you, and praying for you?"i
Aye, in the battle* Susan, 'mid the roar of the
big guns and the clash of cutlasses, and death
spinning and whistling about me, I thought I
heard for a moment that little whisper rising
and falling,"Sue at her bedside praying for me"
- always in danger it seemed to come. Once in
the tropics, when we manned the Captain's
cutter and got separated from the ship, we saw
a little white cloud the size of your hand, and
it rose and rose like a white horse, larger and
whiter. We reefed our sail and it was on us
with a scream - the white squall. The whote sky
seemed torn to ribbons, and the sea was crushed
flat down in foam, and we ran before it with
bare poles, like a withered leaf, every moment
seemed our last in that death 'race. So help me
God, I heard that little whisper rising and
falling, "Susan at her bedside praying for roe".,,
This is Wills, not Jerrold, and it is writing, which manages
to be self-conecious and faux-naif at one and the same time.
Like Juana's description of the landscape, it is self-contained
and has the effect of causing a halt in the progress of the
play - Wills pauses for his poetic effects*
The chief attraction of the performance was its staging,
especially that of the first two acts, which Henry James found
"as trim and tidy as a Dutch picture". But the new text was
"flat and monotonous" and resisted the attempts of Mrs Kendal
to "infuse the vital spark". James was generous in his notice,
but with reservations:
Mrs Kendal is natural and delightful; she has
the art of representing goodness and yet redeeming
it from insipidity. Mr Kendal, who plays
the high-toned and unfortunate tar, is a graceful
and gentlemanly actor, but he is not another T.P.
Cooke. He has not the breadth and body fre put t
requires, fhe play, as it now stands, is of about
the intellectual substance of a nursery rhyme.
The mise-en-scene is as usual delightful,^
Among those who regretted the passing of the broad style of
acting was the reviewer of The Era, who suggested that audiences

66
were "becoming so nict and genteel" that they found it necessary
"to ridicule pathos and tenderness when they have expression
upon the rough but honest lips of the poor" (10 October i860).
Robert Bucnanan, in an essay devoted largely to attacks upon
a less genteel kind of realism than Robert son»a (indeed he is
so kind to Robertson aa to praise his "touching modern commonplace
with the hues of a really prismatic imagination"), called
for a return to the clear and fresher world of Dumas perei
Are not people turning back, in despair of gross
Realism^ to the cl

Harley Granville-Barker, whose dismissal of the
eighteen-eighties has been quoted, wrote in an essay on
W.S.Gilbert of the manner in which the British theatre
underwent a "disciplining" to rescue it from "a state of slovenly
chaos", and listed those responsible as being Irring,
the Bancrofts and Kendala, Hare, Wyndham, Sydney (?rundy~ "and
most particularly, Pinero and Gilbert"^. Without dwelling
upon the question of Ibsen's influence, it is possible-to
discern in the fashionable theatre of the eightesa-eighties
the tensions that underlie the best dramatic writing of the
ensuing decades* She problem was not simply that of reconciling
"Tragedy" with modern dress, but of relating undeniable
advances in the technoiques of stage presentation to the
alarming lack of good plays. There was some contradiction
between the qualities that had made actors respectable, and
had given authors influence and money, and the inability of
the stage to cope with what was considered "poetic material"*
But in one respect the meticulous realism of staging was
allied to the ambitions of poetic playwrights. Plays conceived
- as Tennyson's evidently were - to be a series of tableaux
and poetic speeches set apart from the action of the play,
were symptoms of a common understanding of "effectiveness".
Poetry in character was conceived by the etage-manager and by
the poet as being static - the telling pose or speech, the
thrilling suspension of motion. In 1881 The Stage offered
guidance on "Stage Pictures' and 'Calls'", the arrangement
of which it claimed to be "one of the most delicate and trying
tasks of stage-management":
To intensifya particular climax forming a
picture in which each character takes a
different attitude, though at the same time
one exemplifying the dominant idea, or a portion
of it, is a task to fulfill which successfully
taxes the imagination, ingenuity and general
perception of effect of the person responsible
for it...
The same article instructs the actor that "during an outburst
of applause the most sculptural rigidity capable in the human
form should toe maintained in the exact moment which induced
the interruption" (19 August 1881).
The idea of the actor as a figure in a pictorial composition
is by no means a new one. It is possible,however, that

88
in the course of the century the shift from actor-centred to
designer-oriented theatre had brought about the dileona in
which authors of the eighteen-eighties found themselves. Actorcentred
pieces were not notable for continuity and integrated
development, Robert Oaris, in The Dickens Theatre draws an
analogy between the "points" of the older plays and some of
Dickens*s effects*
the several effects or "points" made by the
artist are not "integrated" into a "continuity"
as we ordinarily understand the word, and do not
need to be, since each one is sponsored directly
by the artist to achieve his obvious moment by
moment plans and purposes, one of which is gelfdieplay.
48
The series of tableaux found in Dickens's earlier work owed much
to the influence of the illustrator - especially in Cruikshank*s
case. They were also derived from Hogarth's great example and
stimulated by the more mundane pressure of publication in
instalments. But the relationship between the illustrator f s
plates and the theatre was intimate, to the extent of playwrights
adopting the story-line of Cruikshank*s The l-«...»-...n.u-. Bottle, r -.- and scene-
designers striving to reproduce the pictures on stage. * The
taste for the striking composition and cetting balanced in
some degree that for dislocated "points" in acting. Planehe"
describes how he secured the success of The BrigandGhief (at
Drury Lane in 1829) by introducing "tableaux from Sastlake's
well-known pictures, 'Vja Italian Chief Reposing", "The Wife
of a Brigand Chief Watching the Result of a Battle" and "The
Dying Brigand" - these were "very effective",
and led to the adoption of this attractive
feature in several subsequent dramas, Doglas
Jerrold's Rent Dag founded upon .Vilkie's
celebrated picture, in particular.^Q
The dramatic event was organised - composed - by persons other
than the author, much in the way that Cruikshank claimed to
have organised Oliver Twist and Ainswfcrth's The Tower of London. 53
The authors dealt with this problem by becoming stagemanagers
themselves, in Gilbert's case extending their authority
even to the design of costumes
^9
, but this entailed a partial
capitulation to the established tiste, and to the resposibilities
listed in Gilbert's letter to The Times? at least three scenechanges,
and opportunities to be provided for the actors'

peculiar talents* In Gilbert's case this organising genius
complement an orderliness in the plays and libretti - "something
consistent in form", in Granville~Barker's phrase, or,
as G.K.Chesterton more grandly put it:
...the author of The Bab Ballads was the only
Englishman who understood end observed the
unities of Greek tragedy.,-.,
In the second part of this thesis, it is proposed to examine
the treatment which Shakespeare's plays received at the hands
of two designers, £.,:. Godwin and Lewis Wingfield, who were
working towards a designer*s (as opposed to an actor's or
author's) theatre, and who were doing so not only with the
burden of resposibility associated with the National Poet,
but under what Henry Arthur Jones would later call "The Shadow
of Henry Irving". Irving was also striving to achieve artistic
success in the face of some difficulty, and in the next chapter
his management is considered in its relationship to the tendencies
of contemporary Shakespeare criticism, and the ideas about
painting outlined in Chapter One. Tennyson said on his deathbed
that he knew Irving woiild do him Justice. The Laureate
had himself atriven to do Irving justice; but how well did
Irving serve an author who, living, had no thought of writing
for the Lyceum?

PART 2-.VO
The Production of Shakespeare's Plays,

91
Chapter One
THE LYCEUM STYLE AND ITS GKIIIC3

9?
On flarch -°4» 1874 reward FitBeci'iild wrote to a cor-eev;ondent
that ho had called "for on hour" at tho ^ceun -jioctro "to
see a bit of ar living 1 0 Hamlet", It we 3 ;•< dic
...incomparably the ... or £ t I ovor saw in ray
iiTc - and 1 have aoon "riruilot in a ^m,
Jamec .mvidBon, nusio critic of ?hc Tinoa. chanced upon the
performance in a similar v«?y, and aftorwordo wrote So Charles
Lcrab £onney, aonotrl?ne> Aromatic critic of the nov/c.i;v;>ort
y irapulsa vroc to ( 'o to Irvinct and aoy t " I-M
are you, ionic tV" I h;.,d vdtnessed for the first
tiae in ny life a hunc-n bo in/; styled **Maralet°*
I believe in no otlior ..'i-i^ot - for Sh;.-acoi;pouro*»
men GTJJ. woncn are ell of God*s own make« 0
r .
Coctjonto on Irvinc;*Q acting and produotion methode fall for
the r:

93
Irving wrote to Austin Brereton towards the end of this tour:
The seed we have sown I mean to reap - our
work has been a revelation & our success beyond
precedent.
In his second engagement in Boston receipts totalled
$24,089 for ceven performances - £4,800 by Irving's reckoning.^
These figures, if accurate, are sensational indeed: in 1865-
1866 it took Charles Kean two hundred and twenty-nine performances
to realise (590,000 (£18,000), including $969.50 for his
farewell . enefit in New York, when the gross tokings were
#3,000. 6
Not all criticism of the American performances was as
complimentary as winter's: Henry James and E.Ranken Towse, the
critic of The New York Bvening Post.had considerable reservations
concerning Irving 1 s technical abilities. Some less
respectable critics upheld the spirit of the 1840s, ;

published a collection of Essays in Theatrical Criticism*
In the introduction he expressed his concern at the kindness
with which Irving*s Romeo was received: this he construed as
a "lamentable want of balance, of repression, of sanity" and
an equally lamentable "exaltation of the individual at the
expense of his work" (p.11). Percy Fitzgerald, an Irving
acolyte, had suggested that the expense of a production at
the Lyceum placed the reviewer under a moral obligation to
praises
...this is plainly to make of criticism only
form of theatrical advertisement; and seeing
how large a space is already given to these
interesting and ingenious documents, this is
surely a little superfluous. The critic's
proper business is to be the mouthpiece to
the actor of intelligent and impartial opinion;
if f'r Fitzgerald's view be the correct one, he
can be no more than the mouthpiece of the actor
to a slavish and unthinking public. /
In the editorial "Omnibus-Box" of The Theatre, Scott described
Jorris's as "a silly prejudiced, unnecessary and misleading
work, evidently written by a soured and oicap;j minted man" 9
,
and the essays were not generally y/ell-received, but some of
the mud stuck.
In America the accusations were more serious and more
difficult^of proof or disproof. In addition to his customary
wining and dining of public figures and the representatives
of the press, Irving may have used underhand means to clear
the field of rivals, \7ilson Barrett, .hose financi, 1 difficulties
made him preternaturally suspicious, told v.illian inter
in 108? that bad notices of his American tour had been cabled
to the British newspapers, and good ones had been supressed:
This my dear .'.inter is not accident, nor ic
it unimnortant. ";Iy theatre i.e.. the Priiicocc's
in London is taken from me "; I am fighting
heavy oc.ds - but I see ay place in the world -
I ne;n to '.in, £ to hole! it. I have never tried
to injure those who pro striking at me - & the
truth, not they - v.ill prevail,,Q
From a letter written later in the year it np c re that a
ruiaour was current that v,inter himself "coxicjdrccl wijj_ J.
Hot ton" to '-./rite against" Barrett, but the actor dissociated

95
himself from such gossip. In December he v/r; ':e to a friend in
Baling about a cable - the purpose of which is not clear -
and other prejudicial activities, apparently having their
source in Irving. Richard Mansfield entertained similar
suspicions - e-cill less cordial ones - about Irving's rivalry.
In 1893 he wrote to Dithmar, the New York Times critic, that
he was"shocked and disgusted" by William Winter's admiration
for Irving at a time when he and others were striving to obtain
recognition for the native product - "Confound these lickspittles"
12
. Mansfield *s quarrel v/ith Winter was made up before
long, but in the course of it Mrs Winter received a very
acrimonious letter* showing the financial grounds of the actor's
grievance:
Irving can play to 536,000 a week - we can barely
play to S4»000 - our share of tlirt is S2 t 400, our
expenses over S3»000. The work of the critics is
bearing fruit - and it's dead sea fruit - Irving
has as usual feted wined and dined & supped and
beseiged the critics - they condemn my Merchant
of Venice to please him & send him the articles
to read and nod over - and v/e starve hero where
v/e have worked so long. I think I could bear it
if he were really great and good and anything but
a charlatan and a fraud.
One of Irving* s acts 0^ unkindness appears to have been his
announcing that he would produce and act in a version of
Dr Jekyll and I.Ir Hyde in London: a direct challenge to ilancficld
who had "created" the dual role in America and in England. To
thic letter is 'appended a reply from ;irs winter, which is
conciliatory in tone but does not, however, clear Irving.
A later letter to her from Llonsfiolu, v/ritten in Columbus,
Ohio on 7 May, 1894 breaks off after the phrase "I hope by now
he has forgotten my" - a page is ni; sine, and the extant
letter continues v;ith an account of Jansfiold's frri-tpe, a
malady from which he habitually suffered.
" he tever trut.. there was in the accusations made by
Barret and anrjfiold, their correspondence with ,;inter and
Dithmar reveals an intimacy between critic and ct.;r-:v n, ; or
thr'; mi^t be supposed to have some danger in it. Similar
ro, rtionships existed between critics and authors, and Ithough
Irving did not produce any of Scott's plays, other n;UTic:crc

96
who did can hardly have been unaware of his influence. Daly
employed Scott as an advisor in the selecting and editing of
plays, and correspondence between the two shows the shrewdness
of such a move. In 1886 Daly approached Scott with the suggestion
of collaboration. In his letter of acceptance Scott wrote:
I can say between ourselves that I did not
have the first say about your plays and your
admirable company but I have clone what I
could conscientiously in several places and
I will write another article for the September
number of The Theatre.
In a letter of July 2, 1886 Scott agre«d to a draft contract,
adding:
The reports on the plays will be ready very soon.
Look at Illus t rat ed L ond on News today.,,.
A succession of letters in which Scott comments on plays
submitted to him by Daly is followed by a request for a favour:
Don't forget me if you ever hear of a newspaper
e itor requiring a London correspondent.
I should like to sign my name to a good letter
that might be mailed to a score of towns by a
clever agent in New York. Think of this,,,-
Scott waa a sincere adsairer of Daly and his company - to
Ada Relian he wrote in 1890 that his work was a "weariness",
but that he could "pick up courage when our opinions are stren-
17
gthened by such an art as yours" ' - but it was easy to take
advantage of his enthusiasm.
It is important to boar in mind the practical origins
of the parti; llity of some critics when ^p^roc c'^ing the
descriptions of Irving's work published in his lifetime, ,'ildc,
who wrote flattering vorses to Ellen Terry and to Irving (whom
he advises to return from aiclodrama to Shake-per re), lived in
hone of seeing his play produced in a theatre which had been
- ~ "i Q
for aim "the one linl between our stage and our literature" .
Even Shaw, whose campaign age int.-1 the Lyceum in the Saturday
AGVJCVV was relentless and sincere, hoped to have the forces
of the Lyceum placed in service of The_ Man of Destiny,, and it
is unlikely tii, t Buchanan, who praised Irving for his "vitalising
the energies of the stage and absorbing its noblest
traditions" did not entertain cinil; r r opii- tions1^.

In this chapter Irving's personal and managerial techniques
are examined through the comments of contemporary
reviewers, and one of his major Shakespearean productions,
the Jlacbcth of 1888-1889» is discussed as an ocample of the
qualities and shortcomings of Lyceum production methods.
-he oraise and dispraise of
.Yillioin Archer's first book on Henry Irving, The Fashionable
Tragedian, appeared in 1877 and was written in collaboration .
v;ith Robert Lowe. In 1883 he published a second, more temperate
OG: ay, Henry Irving, Actor and Manager. In the intervening
years Irving had aquired a reputation as manager of
a theatre - a reputation less in depute thc.n hie talent as
an actor. Archer's comments on the Lyceum stage-management
arise from the same premises as his strictures on the actor.
In the earlier book Irving is rudely attacked PS the possessor
of a poor physique and bearing, wrongly interpreted by come
as "picturesque", and a limited range. His only talent is for
the depiction of "abject terror, sarcasm and frenzy" (The
fashionable Tragedian (second edition, 1877) o.9); his voice is
as unprepossessing as his arrnearance - Archer transcribes a
representative passage:
How ic the -.inter of our discontent
•lade glawrious summer by this sun of Yark;
And aall the clouds that lowr'd upon our house
In the deep bussura of the awchun - burred./ gv
's physique is mocked in a number of cartoons, and in
such descriptions as this, of his wall::
...he ,xL;:nte. one foot upon the stage as if
his whole "eminence" defended upon its firmness,
and then drags the other log after it in
a limn anil nerveless fashion, .. .all the while
working spasmodically with his shoulders, pncl
very often nodding his head backwards ar,a forwards
in a manner which is positively r-riiiful
to contemplate. / „•.
oone -.vriters, the pamphlet adults, find Irving' s ic-iosyncracies
"nicturesnue", but "There arc those who would dircover
picturesqueness in the v/ri things of the octopus in Brighton

Aquarium" (p»15).
Against this may be set one of the most favourable
accounts of Irving published in the early years of his success.
Hall Caine in 1877 issued a "Dramatic Study" entitled Richard
III and Macbeth; the Spirit of Romantic Play in Relation to
the Principles of Greek and of. Gothic Art and to the Picturesque,
Interpretations of Mr Henry Irving, Caine claims that Irving 1 s
success can be attributed to his being endowed with a mind
that is "essentially and eminently the Gothic mind" (p. 15),
After lengthy passages discussing the definition of his terms,
he attempts to show the actor *s interpretations in their
relation to general theories of art. Thus, Irving' s Hamlet
...is, first, the offspring of untoward events, and
finally, the overpov/ered victim of a. world of
injustice, but the austere symmetry and statuesque
singleness of purpose in Greek art admit of no
, such imagina t i ve d evel opinent •••(,, ^ 5 )
This ic hardly ntl'nurte as a judgement on Greek r.rt, but it
does not lack significance as nn appraisal of Irvin :r . In 1874
Caine attended the first night of the new Hamlet as critic of
the Liverpool Town Prior., and pointed out in his review that
Irving 's method was admirably suited to a ^lc.y which included
not only "the language of terror and pity, the language of
impassioned intellect", but also thc-.t of "everyday life" 20
,
In the 1077 pamphlet he pxvires Irving 1 s "°rc- :T-_. indite
i-iinuteneas of detail", visible ir every line anc. revealing
effects "equally carious and exquisite" (p. 40). From u iiy
contomporrry descriptions of the detail in Irving 1 o acting,
two v ill suffice. In 1-379 the Ncv/ Tor': paper ..ilkos' ^ drit
of the Times,, printed a despatch from its London correspondent
on Irving' s perforr.irj.ice as LL,;ilo^:
He site in easy mannish attitudes curing the
rrr.ot soliloquies, often rr^cv.inr the rnkle
which is under his hnnCs, as he rocks b:: cky^ards
and forr:ards with one Ice '- . During
the v/]iole of the o:«.tiny: scene v/i-'j:i Hor-'.tio
after the \inr ^s ru.-.hoa away from the nl.-y
sceno, Irving still holds on to the -eacoek
feather fan v;hich he too:: from 0-liclia as
he Iry it her feet, r.nrl frou ,.!rich during
the airaic ->lay, he keeps j2aicjo.bstr--.c-tnc.ly
bioiiif; out fcatJiors, as ho -,v tched the ^in ;:-.
;lov;iiorc does he bully or tavwl, tlie effort to

99
round sentences and to place sound before sense
is always avoided. 21
Frederick Wedmore, in his autobiography Memories (1912),
describes Irving's acting as Digby Grant in Albery's ->.;o
Roses:
Anxious that nobody ohould fail to be the witness
of his gratitude, he mounts a kitchen or cottage
chair, in nervous . fitotion, and -dth one most
artful and revealing stumble. His feelings are too
much for him. It w.?s the cleverest imaginable little
bit of jT-pnre painting - a thing anroTiri; te to
comedy alone.
(p. 176)
• cdtiore compares Irving'c method with that of ; -ounet-3ully:
Irving's v.'ao ,n art of endlessly considered detail.
Touch upon touch built up his impressiveness. The
right relation of rll these ingenious, v/ell-im gined
details - the welding them in this wise into a
nhole that had unity - gave hi.,,: his breadth; but it
was a breadth got very differently from the doyen
of the Francais... with his : rt of large neglect of
detail - his art of concentration on crer-.t fiocture,
great voice, great ;jion.
(pp. 177-8)
There v;ore two basic interpretations, from which critics could
choose: cither Irving's -nhysical peculiarities were a substitute
for genuine presence and technique, or they were part
of en elaborate strategy. To the detractors he v/as uncontrolled,
and "picturesque" only after the manner of the octopus in
jri^'iaton Aquarium, whilst to the otfriiraro he was a abater of
control, and his detc.il - whether they judged it "Pre-Raphaelite"
or "Gothic" or ciraoly pert of the natural i en associated
with .•',-enro - was \°.intcrly.
•hen Irving bocano rsmi g-r of the Lyceum 'i'hon.tre, in the
1878-9 sescon, the -ociili::rities of hie per onp.l technique
v;ere to be seen in the context of an r.rtiLtic v.liclc, over
which uo exercised control. Ilics no,; ler.clin/:; I'-.r'y, Ellen Torry,
wac noted for a precision and minuteness of fic-tr.il inil.- r
to his O:.:L. In 1075 ocL/aoro -r::i.od her perfor-;rp.co as Peg
woffington (In A/iai ks and Paces.) in ^2-dS£lLlii» T[i " cloccri-.tion
of the actress resembles his rcniniscenoa of Irvin; :
Her attitude a becouo r.iore r.nd more what
they al .ays inclined to fee - otucies for

-00
pictures: but always \vithout any of the
unreality of the posed nodel and v.ith far
more than any nodel's exnre.^iveness.
One would beg the render specially to note
the series - or is thr-t coo hard s. word? -
say rather the ordered yet D< emin ly spontancou3
now of tf^.turos - with which she
leaves, in the second act, the room v.liere ifr
Vane has been enter taining the Town, and to
consider, when he has noted tli:;t flow of
gesture, v;hat are the ..ords to be spoken.
(13 November 1875)
Under the new regime the ; ctor and actress were to be ilucod
in the appropriate surroundings; ensemble v/ac to be the guiding
principle of the Lyceum, as Irving clrine ; in his speech at
Harvard in 1885:
Ifc is moot import nut that an actor should
learn the t he is a figure in a picture^ and
that the least exaggeration destroys the
harraony of a coiroosition* All the members
of a eon-i-vmy should work toxvr-rds a common
end, with the nicert subordination of tleir
individuality to the general purpose.
To tliic end the actor "v/ho is devoted to his >roiesGionw
should stiu-y p.intin;;, mufiic, an-:"' ^cil'tare^ for he is
"suDceptible to every harmony of colour, form and sound"
2?
.
It ic clc::r th .t Irvlng in his public pronouncements v;as
c; reful to £5tress the :.1, nncr in which the theatre ai lit embrace
11 the artc. In the Tarv; rd speech he emphasizes his cist^nte
for "cerl;.rla kinds of realism" which ere "simply vulgar", and
I'.is belief ru, :t ff!v r;.:oay of colo r and ;/-r'.cc of outline Ii.-.vc
a legitini'.te sphere in tlio theatre":
Absolute replica on the : t. .ive i;.; not ;• Iv/.-yo Oesir.-'.ble
cny more thoji the •;!! >t':>'';ra "ilc re^r-j faction of
r ature can cl^im to rank T .ith the highest art» ? ^
•:hiv speech, like the othcrr collected in the 1 .;3 volume of
"Addresses", is a masterly c;;t. i-ci.je irj -vablic relations. Its
tor_ g is dir:nified and modest, and its r-ppc a l to the couto.v?-
or;^ry ontliu^ii'sn for : rt io not allowed to outv/ci-'Ii its wooing
of more con-.:erv tive o inion, Irvinr v/rs c> roful to , -::nl\< :>;±ZQ
his rc^'-i.-ctability, and corAe of his rona'-':^ remind the reader
of ; -uj;u..tus Harris's ' 1 ee.:;ocratic fl ayooai. ^'.v.n:-, :.ncakiii;; in
1PC1 at tlie , '. : i:ibur ; -;..- .. :,ilo..o.^liical In..tituti ..:, lie ri,.iiit-.:,i!iocl

101
that managers did not force standards of taste upon the public,
but respond to its wishes - "Believe me, the right direction
is public criticism and public discrimination" . At the same
function ten years later he dissociated himself from some
aspects of the modern movement in art: "A morose and hopeless
dissatisfaction is not a part of a true national life. This
OK
io hopeful and earnest, and, if need be, militant" •
This double appeal - to aesthetic discrimination and to
a conservatively norrl theory of art - were reflected in the
theatre's policy. The liternry conservatism, and often mediocrity,
of the repertoire was compensated by the scenic effects.
William Archer's second book on Irving, Henry Irving, Actor
and Manager, was published in 1883, five years after the rector
had become hie own manager. Archer, like Walter Hamilton,
recognizes Irving's fashionable appeal:
The Lyceum drama came into existence along
with - I had almost said for the sake of -
the new art hues and fabrics./
But two reservations must be made about the qnolity of the
theatre's work. The nlaya cannot be said to represent any
advance in the error tic literature - "a dead droma skilfully
Galvanized 0 (p. 95) - and Irving's o'.vn acting is egocentric
and "singularly deficient in purely mime-tic technique" (p. 77).
The actor presents in cp.ch role "r, fresh development of his
own individuality" rather than, "r.o is the case with mimetic
actors", a study "from the life" or "a gcnoralisa. ion of many
studies from the life".
The conservatism of Irvin^'s rc-oertoire nc.y be aeen from
the list of "new" nieces produced in the eight een-oirjities:
out of ten :o,jor productions four were by contemporaries
( .ills' s I plant he and Olivia, Moriv; le's ^c'vensv/oocl, and The
Cup). The first three of those were in r,omc sense adaptations,
and Olivia had first been performed at the Court Theatre in
1878. To thene aay be ndiTied , ills' o veraion of Faust. The
remaining cix plays were revivals - re Centlivre's -lie Belle 'o
ta^ca, Albery's Two Roses, watte Phillips' The I cad I-Ioort
and, on special occasions, -I'lic im-iclilr.cl:, Robert . acaire, and
Byron's • .-rnor. 2 ^. The relationship betv;een Irvin^'s production
techniques and the texts he uncO can be aocn clearly in rovicv/c

102
of the three major "new" plays, The CUT). Paust and The Dead
Heart,
Tennyson's brief tragedy, The Cup.opened on January 3f
1881, and was well-received.- it was remarkable, claims
Stoker, for the number of h. -h-church clergy who visited it 2^.
The plot is simple: Synorix, a Galatiojti serving Rome, has
admired Comma, the wife of the Tetrarch Sinnatus, ever since
he saw her "A maiden moving slowly on to music" at the temple
of Artemis. Now he brings her a cup, saveti from the shrine of
the goddess which the legions had destroyed. He contrives to
have Sinnatus invite him to dinner, and represents himself to
Gamma as a well—wisher, who only serves Rome in order to serve
G-alatia, and warns her that the Romans suspect Sinnatus of
plotting against them. Then he contrives the assassination
of Sinnatus, and Gamma takes refuge in the temple of which
she is a priestess. Synorix becomes Tetrarch, and Gamma,
surprisingly, agrees to marry him. During the ceremony, which
forms mo.,t of the play's second act, she poisons Synorix and
herself, and dies nith Sinnatus's name on her lips. The play's
appeal to the hi,;h Anglicans is not far to seek: it offers a
re-creation of an ancient and aesthetically appealing religious
ritual, v;ith incense and singing, and suggests the defeat of
a new order in religion (the Roman worship of Diana) by an
older one (Gamma's devotion to Artemis). The subject is not
biblical, for representation of Christian rites on tlio stage
would hardly be acceptable to the censor, but it touches on
the same sensibilities as inform Moriuc the Epicurean - an
aesthetically pleasing; religiosity. Moreover, its plot may
have influenced vil-'e in Salome - a central i'eiaele diameter
who in a context of exotic ritualism com pa: -DOG the death of
a man.
The character of Synorix shows to

in a manner which prompted Sala t in Tho Illuotrated Lone ion
iicvm, to conpare hln with Claud* Prollo, in Victor Hugo's
' ; 3tro Dane de Paris »
The wretched suitor of Caooa comea before ua
ac a nan rent b a devouring and irresiotible
paoDionj and his crime and it a expiation oeem
alike inscribed on the irrevokcble rollo of ; to.
He is foredoomed from the beginning to be the
olayer and the slain*.. '0 ie l«oo a Crook-Backed
Hichard or a fiendish Ir^o than a guilty yot
otill noble Claude 'rollo.
(15 January 18C1)
According to Bllien Terry, Xrving "conceived his own type of
the blend of fionon intellect and aenouality with barbarian
cruelty and luet" . ?!io repertoire of the Lyceum included
nony ouch parte for the actor - Vanderdockon, .u^ene Arcn,
ephietopliiles and, noct frnouc of all, "lothiao - in rihich
ovil io qualified by a seno© of the character *o oenaitiv. ty
and uneaey conscience*
Carana is a ^inmlor role - an adnirr.ble vjorarn whoce innocence
in tiivrcd by a little cunning* ti.-ilde'o connct coajpr-reo
her, "antique-linbed and otorn*% to a figure on a 'rocrim urn,
but on- c with a plea that the sctresa vill ^lay Cleonotraj
And. yet - .•.:ct>-ini':o I*d rathor 000 theo -)lay
That serpent of old : Tile, v/ho;:c witchery
i!nde L-faneroro drun»:cn, - cone,
Our stag® with • 11 thy rnir.iir
I an ":rov:n nicf: of unreal ^-.
The world thino Actium, me taino
In oono ouc!.rtcrc it was tliourlit tlir.t Ellen Jerry ( o Oreooeo
contributed more to the Crano t'-inn c..ri,y oublety or interest in
the heroine oho ^ortrr.ycc • MI t-nonynoua rovior;or i:: ^__/j.
_ iv:. 1:5 . 7 n;-ilr.inc

Illustration 3 Following p.103
Ellen Terry as Gamma in The Cup

104
depth in the second act - it was a huge ccnvi'.c upon which the
relatively small figures of the actors stood out, by virtue of
their exquisite costumes, in what The Illustrated London News
called "lurid relief". Approval of such statecraft was accompanied
by a suspicion that Tennyoon had contributed little to
the play's success.
If Tennyson played a minor part in the success of Tho Cup
Goethe played even less in that of the Lyceum Faust. Again,
the pictorial effects were remarkable, and r^in their tendency
was to throw the major characters into "~.urid relief". Joseph
and Elizabeth R.Pennell, the future biographers of ,/liistler,
wrote in The Century Magazine on ".The Pictorial Successes of
lir Irving's jfeuct". They dwelt on the scenery and the groupings,
"fine not only in themselves but in their harmonious relation
to the play":
For Mr Irving sees himself and I5r Alexander
[_Faust3 not only as the chief characters in the
tragedy, but as the principal figures in a
picture rich in colour, vigorous in composition.
Irving was for the most part more prominently lit than
Alexander, but "their every poce" was "a subject for a painter,
and the result of long and careful stucly"^ . lien the Brocken
Scene was introduced, some time after the beginning of the
play's run, Clement Scott described in The Illustrated London
I rows the 3; iuterly effect of Irving's Mephistoohiles:
He has nothing to say, only to look. Hiu words
are immaterial - but in that face there is a
world of mo, ninr:. No one but an imaginative
pctor could hrve conceived such a picture, or
overmostored it with such a comnanding presence.
All the preconceived vioions of "anfrcd and
Sardanapulus and Belshazzar DClo before this
extraordinary scene. In it we detect the weird
fancy of Gustave Dore, the splendid d-.-.ring and
invention of John ".artin.
(26 Pecember 1885)
Joiner to the chorus of -'--raine for the ctr.cing were two reticles
in The Art-Journal by Joseph Ilatton, p... cccntin,-- Irving
artist v/ho used the st^e as a canvas. He represented
as "unr.t n./jeable fl work, and tefended itc opiL-odic treatment at
the iiL'.ii'-'s of illc and irving - the lover of Goethe can no
more complain "than can the . tudent of History when the dr-nio.

105
tiat selects one episode from a reign or an incident in o.
life for dramatic illustration"-* . Among the dissenters was
Henry James, who considered the itches'Sabbath "a horror
cheaply conceived, and executed with more zeal than discretion",
and cared nothing for "the importunate limelight which is
perpetually projected upon somebody or something". Irvlng^s
sinister nature was "superficial - a terrible fault for an
archfiend", and the acting, especially thrt of Ellen Terry,
was grossly inadequate.
The Lyceum Faust was, according to opinion, a worthy
illustration or a gross vugarization of r>n acknowledged
masterpiece. The Dead Heart was less open to charges of
desecration. Ellen Terry disclosed her opinion of it in a
letter to Elizabeth Winter, the critic's wife:
.'/hen we change our procrautme at the Lyceum we
are going to do The Dead Heart - an old Adelphi
play by Watts Phillips - the situations of the
play are fin$,, ; (the words^ are rubbish - "but Hush
!!!!!!!!!!*{ - we AUST llssemble) (one or two S's?)...
—— —— 33.
The play's story is that of a young man who is wrongfully
imprisoned in the Bastille, and after his release during the
Revolution, takes revenge upon those who have v.ron^ed him; it
resembles A Tale of Two Cities and The Count of ^onte Gristo
and was perhaps a cign of that revival of Dumas and Dickens
heralded by Robert Buchanan. The firct ret is preceded by
a prologue, in which the eircurastances of Robert Landry's
in^r :: asonrncnt are shovm, and then the curtain rises on the
taking of the Bastille. Landry is "brought out an

106
moderate pace, might be spoken in about five minutes. Landry
has some ten or fifteen lines to speak, few of them longer
than ten words. In production this became a long scone, as a
hostile account by George Moore suggests:
Iir Irving ia brought out, and, in such crazed
and dilapidated condition as seventeen years in
a dungeon would produce, he lies down in front
of the audience, moaning from time to time,
Inconceivable as it may seem, he elects to lie
there for several minutes, holding the attention
of the audience by the help of occasional moans
or grunts and furtive grimacing.,.
Irving lavished the attentions of the Lyceum technical staff,
a good deal of money and no little historical research on the
play, but it could not be denied that the te. t was of little
account, and was indeed incidental to the actor-manager's true
purposes.
Irving became pre-eminent as a stage-manager, being by
1895 "adaittedly the finest...in Europe", as The Theatre
claimed in its editorial on his knighthood (n.s.xxvi (1895)
1-4). It seemed to aome thnt Irving's acting directed
attention towards appearance and rosture, and away from his
voices
He is what is called a picturesque aetorj
that is, he depends for his effects upon the
art with \.hich. he presents a certain figure
to the eye, rather than upon the manner in
which he speaks his r r^*^5
Jenr.y" Janes continues with the reflection that Irving is
more accent: ble in modern drama than in Shake, pe..re, "because,
if v.

107
The virtues of Irving*s stagecraft .ere not new ones - his
cultivation of ensemble in movement and grouping, and the idea
that one man should supervise the entire production were
affirmations of the qualities sought by Phelps, Charles Kean
and Macready* But unlike Ciiarle;, Kean, the moat lavish and
most recently comparable manager, Irving was himself a pictorially
effective actor. Lewes described Kean as unable "to let
the emotions play in his face", but it is evident that Irving's
genius lay in precisely this quarter - judging by Gordon
Craig's account of Mathias, he could let the emotions play in
the top of his head and his fingers as he bent to untie a
bootlace.-3 * Irving conducted meticulous rehearsals of each
•play on stage, but, according to Ellen Terry, r-aid little
attention to the interpretation of individual parts - he •37
covered his copies of the text with rroupincc and moves. '•
"ho conservatism of the Lyceum repretoire undoubtedly
owed much to Irving 1 s melodramatic training - H.Chance I lev/ton
attributed his pictorial style to this background - and the
appeal of the performance lay to a great extent in the combination
of textual simplicity and technical sophistication:
he contrived to achieve the breadth and romantic magncticm
mis sine i*1 the Robertsonian school, v.hilst avoiding the
vulgarity of Drury Lane dramas. The die lay of personality
on a grand scale accorananied by "psychologic; .1" c tail v;as
something oririni 1 and, in the thcc trc of the centiry's last
decades, unique. Lyceum nucriences were given the viuual appeal
of Charles Kean and Helen Pcueit» together with a dynamism -
a "common touch" - derived from i.icloc ram-. George Moore thought
that Irving substituted appeal to "the sensual instincts" for
a more legitimate ctizrnlus to the "ia c±n-tion", rait] olic.w,
writing to Archer in February 1901 complained:
Now the whole history of the Lyceum i:j the
history of Herodifying .Sliakccpecre - getting
the brains and realism out & the Lelsize Park
suburban Jewish glamour in.^g
But Irving had at loact nafio the theatre exciting afr.in,
however nucrocct the cciuce of the excitement ni,;:ht be. It v;r.s
Irint1. of excitenent tli;it appealed to the now r.ovc^icnt in Art -

108
sensuous, lacking the "educational" pretensions of Charles
Kean's play-bille, and making use of the new-found subtleties
of colour and psychology. Irving 1 s characters - detached,
melancholic, noble minds fallen into sin - were seen in an
eerie half-light, or were picked out by limelight from their
colourful surroundings. Nothing suggests the visual appeal and
the melancholy of the stage-pictures at their beat so well as
Ellen Terry's description of Eugene Aram, She explains that
Irvii -,..:r was fond of using a cedar tree as a symbol of Pate -
it appeared in Hamlet t among other plays:
In Eugene Aram the Pate Tree drooped low
over the graves in the churchyard. On one
of their. Henry used to be lying in a black
cloak as the curtain went up on the last
act. Not until a moonbeam struck the dark
nass did yourosethat it was a man.oq
$
ii. "Macbeth" at tlie Lyceum, December 1888,
In her autobiography Ellen Terry suggests that 'acbcth marked
an c-vDoli in the Lyceum regime:
. acbeth was the most important of all our
^roductionn, if I judge it by the amount of
preparation and thought that it cost us and by
•the discussion which it provoked., Q
•lacboth ivaa Irving's seventh Shake-'pearean production since
he ar;ou-.iod management of the theatre, being prcc. ded by i'lanlct,
The . •orcii°nt of Venice , Ot'-?! to, Pioneo and Juliet, iuch. Mo
.-boil': :-!otiling and ^welft.'.i lii^t.aa had played the title role
in 1 75 during Bateman's management, to a mixed reception -
"Mr Irving was not vheii fully accepted ae a Shakespeareon actor"
reflected .Hie '^or.'lc'.'y, in rnticination of the fortiiconiiif;
production (14 July 1888). Isnry James found the 1875 po,:-f :>rnance
unimaginative and suggestive of "a very anterior amateur"
who i:)i ;-;;lit benefit I'rom n, pro-.cr training:
In declamation he is decidedly flat; 2ii:: voice is
v-ithout chrnn, and hie utterance v.-ithout subtlety.
It v; 3 rvident that Irving had tl:-oufht out his -;
and the intoroct of hie ron^oriaf; of it lies
in oecing a sparo, refined i;i,\n, of an im-hictri^nic
- of a rat..ior oecl ntary - rrj^oc", c;a

109
the picturesque grappling in a deliberate and
conscientious manner with a series of great
tragic points. This hardly gives the impression
of strength, of authority, and it ic not for force
and natural nr>gic that wr Irvinp;'s acting is
remarkable,
41
..,
In 1875 Irving had the inadequate support of iss Bateman's
Lady Macbeth: in the new production he would be partnered
by Ellen Terry. The interpretation of Lady "- edges, x'o this '-re
aof-ed a clonk of ehot velvet in hepta--_r toner,,
upon which :;rcat r-iff ins -.vcrc crnbroiocrod in
flame coloured tinsel. The v.lmle, 3r veil, \;,:c
held in -ilrce by a circlet of rubico, cnr two
long -ol.-its v'.vir'tcc! v,dt'i •• old liunf to the kneoc.
Spiclman's ••rticle cliowc hov/ the oi-il -.iaiicc of tliis
and of Cattermole 's cortumcs for fv re bet a - v: c i ct ~w inct
a sombre b. cl;,;

110
j?or the moat part low tones and sober harmonies
prevail throughout the whole mounting of the
play, but there are one or two exceptions -

Illust ation
Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth
Following p.110

Illustration 5
Sa-'-gent,
Following p. 110
Te ry as Lady Macbeth ( 1888-9)

Ill
up to i'Tacbeth and his vdfc - they v/ork back
to Henry Irving find Ellen Terry - and a very
clever proceeding it is*..
(3 January 1880)
The "official" answer to these chai*ges was Joseph Comyns Carr's
Macboth an^,^imiing, nor for Ell or. Terry'a being
mild all tlio way through: it ceenis an unavilinr: equivocation,
rather than a defence of //hrt happened on stage.
A better defence v/us that r ubliohor1 a decaf e 1; tcr by
Christopher o-j JohJ'. (the pseudonym of C ri,tobel f;rr:hall, a
close -u'riond of Edy CrL i ; ' ). In Ellen Terry (1899) the interpretation
of Lady Macboth ic explained in terms of "nerv us
force" - ..nozraiicite and intelleetualised oririj ',,lity 5 vith an
anclro ynous quality a.)oronri. te to the "Dec; cler ; loveaent":
C-.H. 'o in its most intorestin.:-; o-wcta is made
of nervec and otc-cl, not of beef :md iron. Hot

112
a lino in this short, ~rer.

113
the inadequacy of his voice. Archer does not object to the
mannerism and mispronunciation which had "been criticised in
The Fashionable Tragedian, but to the dry, prosaic delivery:
The fault lies, of course, mainly in the
insuperable limitations of Mr Irving»c voice,
but partly, I cannot help thinking, in his
desire to let us see the thought preceding
the speech, and to avoid the aberrance of
spouting a rote-learned lesson.
The result is "a Jerkiness of utyle fatal to the finest
beauties of such a part as Macbeth", It seems from Archer's
account that a physical depiction of psychological activity
was predominating over oral effectiveness in Irving f s
performance.
During the preparations for the Lyceum "acbeth Percy
Fitzgerald compiled for Irving a book of "Notes and Suggestions",
The book is now in the Folger Shakespeare Library (Prompt ac
48 - Shattuck 90). It includes a eunoary of the play's "three
scenic points of attraction - which exhibit Macbeth under
different views". These are:
1. The i'lurder Scene - where he is interesting
from hia hesitation and remorse: 2. The Banquet
Scene, where he is conscience c.tric".:en and
cowedJ 3. The scenes with the vvitchos & ..ith
the Battle where he is desper .te am! defiant.
The Banquet ocone however ic the grrnc'est of
all f: from its opportunity for show and cro-.vds
& the dramatic, ought to be the central point.
This gives an indication of tlic riorities of Irving 1 s stagiiv:
the central character is to be seen in critical r.ioncntc, which
will coincide with "scenic points of attraction" - c^ices in
his .c.ind will coincide with vicurlly arresting effects.
By reference to tlic reviews of the production, and to
one of the actor's promt copies (in t;ie Krrvard Theatre
Collection, 65-109 - Shattuc'.: 92) it ic possible to d: ; ocern
the manner in which Irving irjjpprporated the "crises" into the
context of a full iroruction.
.•"»fter ul'.l'.vji's new overture, "thorou .lily cli rrctcrictic
and mast' rly, w:^:Lrd, picturesque, powerful, and impresr.ivo"
(glie Er- ) the curtain rose on a "clecort Tolrce", and tiic r/orrn,"o
"crooninc" of the v/itchea ;vas hecrd. Prcr.ontly tlioir fi.fxires

114
became visible in the lightning which flashed across the scene -
according to The Stage, the background of thin setting was a
"blood-red cloud". Irving erst the witches carefully; Locke's
muoic was discarded and the first Witch wia olryecl by Alice
Marriott, whose voice came "like an organ across the foot-lights"
and proved "how useful was the old scho >1 in the matter of
voice training" (The stage). This scene ended with the flight
of the witches, and was followed by the bleeding captain's
report to Duncan and his retinue i a sequence omitted in Irving* s
1875 performance and now wisely restored to provide an indication
of i.lacbeth's normal state of self-possession and bravery.
The third scene returned to the heath, and cave the
audience its first sight of Macbeth, "a person of scowling
and villainous mien, with a wiry mour tnche of reddish hue"
who seemed to The Times "the last to win the confidence of
Duncan". By The Saturday Review he was compared unfavourably
with Banquo: the reviewer wondered why Mo.cheth's superstitious
fear of the witches should be so much more intense than that
shown by Banquo, and did not consider adequate the explanation
that Macbeth had for some time been pondering the murder of
Duncan:
His lined and iiarc^rd features, his restlesr:
movements, his wild and wanderinf, eye, £ive
him altogether the cir of a prey of tho Furies
at his first entrance upon the scene.
•Jlio Err 'described lacbeth's demeanour as betrryiri£ Me feelings
upon realisation that "his lofty imaginings bogin to shrpo
themselves":
«Vith the greeting of the -..-itches f^te -joints
the way; and if chance will liave him King, why
chance may crown iiin without his stir. Hie
superstition helps to fire his impr;in tion;
nervous excitouciit nets his whole frrnc quiver-
1 ii^. 71 T
The Saturday Review described how tucc.e lines ("If chn.nce v/ill
have me King...") were "given v/ith n sigh of such relief as
is felt only by the irresolute when they see a hope tiir.t
events may speire them the clrepclec! necessity of making up their
minds". The nnrl:inrc in the H; rvarcl co->y cu^eot ^n o::citoncnt
of ,-i.ntici nation r.-oiier than of feor - Macbeth rauut "c*ruc-r;le

115
to be calm" when the ncv/s of Cawdor's death is brought, and
the two speeches beginning "Glamio, and i'hane of Caw".or -/ The
greatest is behind!.,." and "Two truths are told"..."are spoken
by an "exultant" man. In the ending of the ocene Macbeth
begins to di;uinulc.te ("hypocrisy" in the merlin), and hiu
"Come, friends" id delivered "cheerily" - tlio second notice
in The Saturday Review describee this as "the exact air of
a m.n ir. ocviraond who wishes to conceal his thought", and, in
reconsideration of its former unfavourable opinion, claimed
this firct scene as "tl.3 key to a true and noble conception
of the character of Macbeth". A scene, like the second scene
of ilanj.ot, which showed the principal character set apart
from the others and which relied upon the actor*s silent
reactions as much as upon any spoken ones, it was entirely
suited to Irving's ncthod.
.after the short scene in the alace at Porres came Ellen
Terry*a first appearance. The set, by Hawes Craven, represented
a room in Macbeth'a castle, v.ith wallc of "aolid masonry" in
which a large open fireplace was cut downs:tage on the ri ht.
Lady Macbeth reed, the let uor by the licht of the emberc, at
one point gazing on her husband's portrait (The Era). According
to The Tines she read with oatisfaction, rather than surprise,
and settled in an arn-chair to ponder the situation. The
combination of naturalistic detail aiic1 picturesque limiting
wa.s charrcterictic of Irving'c stnge-nanafconicnt, and his collators
often strove to . cliicvc ci::.il;,r effects. She soliloquy
io -.."escribed in some detail by The Times rovioi;cr. "Yet I do
fear thy nature" \;-.s cpolcen in "an affectionate, half-re, rctful
t >ne, as if spcrl:ing of cone too-^encrous-mnded person
who did not sufficiently rjtuC.y his cv,n interest a"; "Hie t':.co
Iiitiior..." v;ro a joyous and affectionate exclamation, raid tlic
actress appeared throu liout "a gentle, affection, .to . ife,
v/rr-vied up in her husband". Fven "unrex me here" betrayed "a
las&.i "est effort to rc-^ross licr feminine in.otincts, her voico
faltering at the nore terrible pG^sagec'-. The oamo v/itncss
reports that Irving gave trie usually innocent line "Tomorrow,
as he purposes" a "curiour-ly sinister v.:e:Jiing", and avrrting
hie eyes, uttered then "v;ith an affected inciiffcrence that
obviously covers a guilty t.'.iou;;ht". The -iroopt co-jy indicates

116
a reaction of "horror" to Lady llr.cbeth's "0, never/ Shall
sun that morrow see!", and the interjection "Ha!" at her
suggestion that his face io a book where men may read strange
matters. At the end of her speech is the direction "Pause,
look at her" before " ;e will speak further", and at the end
of the scene io a note "go dejectedly - then hold out arm -
put round her & go together". It is a curiouc reminder of the
end of Act One, Scene Three, with Macbeth again fearing to
disclose his feelings f and leaving the stage with the other
characters, as if for some kind of security.
The next scene, Duncan f s arrival at Inverness, was
remarkable for itc: setting* The Times exprersed some doubt
that Irving might not iir vc staged the play too much in a
gloomy half-light, and found that a sense of mystery was not
enhanced by the "beams of limelight that occasionally followed]
the princip- 1 performers 1.' But in this seer-3, with ito torches
and "Macbeth*s dark and rowning cratle" in the background,
the scheme justified itself. The Stage gave a fuller description:
It is close on nir;lit, and the dark, sombre
building is lir;iited up from -,,it iin, . laile
fron its gate enter the sc:.-vantc and
attendants with torches, awaiting the arrival
of Duiican with his friends and soldiers. The
latter make their entrance un from the valley
to the left of the ground upon which the castle
stcnclc, and are net by Lady "lacbcth, v/ho conducts
her "honoured ruest" up to the building and
through an rvenue of servants bearing torches.
The lighting of tlie ccene solely by torches does not appear
to have been oocsiblc, and t'ic uce of linclirlrbs to ^ive
adequate visibility to tlie icrformers revolted in ;,ome
anomalies. The Pall l-'u 11 Gazette, li':e Tlio Tincn, objected to
the r rbitrary placing of these supplementary li-iit-sources,
and thought them roniniscent of "Adelphi nolo:r r ,ma". The
ttru-iccountoble becno of light "were roainders thrit Irving »o
pictorial sense v/c s the procuct of liis ctr.fc career, as much
as any c;itrr,ortlin; ry np recir,tion of artistic principles of
composition.
In the BQliloquy that followed - "If it wore done..." -
Irving again used natur: listic detcil, loaning on a pillar
at the linec "But in these cases/ e still lit vc jucrement

117
here", and folding his arras at "He's here in double trust".
A "great change" is indicated in the Harvard copy at the
lines:
I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaultin^ ambition, which o f erleaps itself
and falls on the other side.
vith Lo.dy Macbeth'e entrance the scene becomes a further
exploration of their relationship, reflected in the physical
reactions of the two characters. The prompt copy indicates a
"sigh" in response to Lady Macbeth's "Know you not, he has?"
and i[acboth f s next speech - "We will proceed no further in
this business..." - is "quick I' During Lady !/!acbeth»s "low and
amazed" remonstrntions (".Vas the hope crunk/ W; erein you
dressed yourself?") acbeth crossed to the stage loft and cat
down, to jump up with "prithee peo.ccj . At the end of the
scene, Lady ..lacbcth is "pettish anc : r;*>e)ain$X;y annoyed":
..'ho dares receive it other, ^
AD v;c shall rarke our griefs and clamor roar
Upon his death? ^
But v/lion, after a ;iaurje and a silent look, Moebeth agrees to
the plan, "die places both hands on hi c shoulders admiringly".
They leave t.ue stage by separate doorr;, stage right and left,
but "she goes off L§ft]& returns hastily to R(i lit] door as
curtain foils".
The first scene of Irving's second act is made up of the
first three scenes of Act Two, the fourth oceno (Ross, the
Old i-1an and1 Macduff) being omitted. The scene v.a.3 t-ii courtyard
of the castle, roofed over and v/ith a balcony at the back. A
"heavy staircase" camo dov;n on the left, whilst -;.,.< t-io right
v;indinr, stone steps led round c. butress to ruiicrn'c .room rjid
that of the cro :^mc (g'ho StrY::o). The Pall Mall Gazette complained
agrin of anom lies in the lifting, for tiie only visible
source of light r/n.s a "single pendant Imp", and Irvinr, having
roofed in the yard, "-..ac forced to hrve recource to a strong
shaft of li..:c-Light obviously proceeding from nov;?i oro at rll".
lien the r.l^.rm vr c r ised, the ctage cur'.fcnly filled v/ith
attendants casting "over all...the lurid, cmoky li,-;ht from
wruiy torches" ("'ho ota/-:e). In The Era the servants are described

118
as having pale faces, and in the first notice of The Saturday
Review the act-ending is prciocd PS "one of the most exciting
and successful feats of scenic illusion ever achieved upon the
stage". To a number of observers it seemed that the degeneration
in Macbeth had begun too early:
The climax of -nhysicnl tension is surely
reached when Llacbeth staggers to the foot
of the winding ctnirco.se 1 OP cling to Duncan's
ch.iimber; and here, thanks to I/ir Irvinr's unrivalled
mastery of the terrible, his acting
could not be surpassed.
But The Saturday Review thought the sustaining of this mood
incongruous, and censured Irvinc's delivery of the apostrophe
to deep "in the broken and gasping accents of a man under
the influence of mortal affright". Archer noted that Irving
excelled Min most of the conversational passages, and in such
speeches as the dagger soliloquy, where the verse is, so to
speak, short-winded and hesitating". He was "sadly to seek"
in passages requiring "melodious smoothness or rushing
resonance". According; to The Pall Mall Ga ette, Irving 1 s
delivery of the dagger soliloquy was good until he reached the
line "There's no cuch thing". At this point the prompt copy
indicates a "long sigh":
It ic a bloody business which informs
Thus to nine eyes.
Irving looked "again and again" to nuke sure the dagger was
no longer visible.
The Saturday ^eyiew noticed tlir.t Ellen Terry delivered
"Had lie not resembled/j'y father c.s he slept..." in a tone
that conveyed almost an "irnr.tierit contempt for her ov/n ;;cr>l:-
ness", and that this, the one line of tenderness in mor.:t
performances of the prrt, h d become the cruelest in the new
reading. After the discovery of the crime, Lady Macbeth
fainted and was carried out ("Help me hence, hoj" - "Look to
the lp.dyJ w ) and the act-ending was rearranged, to co^duc^
with Mc.cbeth's proposal to meet and investigate the murder,
rather than ,,ith the nlrmc of "Donalbaln and Malcolm to flee.
Like iiuuay nineteenth contury i: curtrinrj" the effect of this
alteration is ctr.tic: the ori^iiir 1 onpharjises the movcr.ient

119
of events, by the urgency of the decision to escape - the new
version leaves the audience with the picture of Mncbeth,
confirmed in his kingshin and exercising an easy hypocrisy.
The version's third act consisted of the firr;t two and
the fourth acene of the original: the murder of Bnriiuo,
Hecate's ncene and the dialogue between Lennox and "A Lord"
were omitted. So, two fairly brief scenes prepare for the
banquet scene, which ends the act* The first, after Banquo's
departure, deals with Macbeth*s employment of the Murderers.
The second IL his conversation with Lady wpebeth. The prompt
copy hcc detailed notes for their movements, v.iiich are restless
anc1 ajnxious. When Lady Macbcth enters she goes to her husband
and makes him sit down. He ; its, and puts his hand in hers.
",Vc have ccotch'd the snake, not killed it" is spoken through
the teeth, and Kacbeth si^hs when he mentions sleep ("and
sleep/ In the affliction of these terrible dreams/ That shake
us nightly") Lady Macbeth "shudders" in response, and Macbeth
gets to his feet and begins to walk up and dov/n. She cones
to comfort him ("Cono on"). Ilucbeth revives a little at the
i^ea of Banquo and Pleance being assailable, and "laughs".
When MG v;ife aal:s what is to be done he pauses, and says "Ha!*
Be innocent of the knovvled ; . 3, dearest civack,
Till thou applaud the deed,
The first line and the end of the sentence arc marked by a
kiss, and, cmiling, Llacbeth goes upstage. ;ith passion he
continues:
Come, GO el in.;: night,
Scarf up the tender eye of "dtiful day,
And with thy bloody and invisible hand
Cancel and tear to pieceo that great bond
, liich keeps me pale. Liglit thickens, and the crow
K'akes -.ving to th f rooky wo or:.
Since the line "0, full of scorpions is my nind, dn-.r /ifej"
Llacbeth has been speaking; quickly: nov; he pauses, before the
final five lines, speaks them, and leaves cuic":ly. Lac.y , acbet-i
as the curtr.in falls "drops lioad-ct; Jiclinr alone". Again, the
state of r.lacbeth's nind is shown in terms of hie nayrdcal
behaviour towards Iiis v.lfe: the ccene bo,-;ins ', ith ..or attempts
to comfort him, and hie rekindled optimism - ives Iii;: a certain
independence from h:;r.

120
The next stage in the development came at the end of the
banquet scene. The general effect of the setting was decribed
in The Stage:
The King and Lady ilacbeth are seated down left,
while up the stge from right to left .ore the
quests seated at huge tables. Servants hurry to
and fro, assisting, and, while a ">nge and maid
ore waiting upon Lady Hacbeth, ilacbeth himself
leans to one side and hears the murderer from
behind the arras tell him of the death of
Banquo and the escape of Fleance.
(see illustration 6)
The ghost rose from a trap, and the lights were lowered to
accompany (and prrtially conceal) his appearance. A number of
critics objected to this, among them Archer, who thought it
unrealistic and clumsy. The Pall Mall Gazette found this
blunder "bewildering and destructive to all illusion", and
suggested that Banquo's ghost should be seen in the full
light of the banqueting hall. In the course of the run the
lighting was altered*.
Irving's copy ohows an almost hysterical attempt on
'lacbeth's nart to maintain some semblance of dignity, degenerating
into a despnrnte pretence at joking in the linen:
vi'hy, what crrc I? If thou conct nod, specie too.
If enamel houses and our graves must send
Those t'v:.t we bury back, our monuments
ohall be the mav.'s of kites.
After "If I stand here, I sa him" there was en uneasy T-VUGC,
and nnother before "Blood hath been shed ore now". Hcanwhile
the guests felt "instinctive terror in presence of something",
and by the ghoct's seccnd Cisappearance r.n(? I.lacbeth's " hy so;
being gone/ I am a man .'gain", they were bc^irmin/; to leave,
rs Macbeth walked up and dov.n, "very agitated", -hen they had
left, Macbeth tiircv: himself dov/n and Lady Biacl,"ta, v/ho until
now had avoided trying to comfort him in J;l:cir presence, v;ont
to him. Gr:h iin remembered "the dull hopelessness of Ellen
Terry's voice as she mechanically answered Fircboth's n >/hrvt is
the night? 11 .. .v;hile fror. her throne she watched the chill
dt v.n-liifiit creep i".r!jo the h 1 11 of fcrating.
45
J The oct ended
viith a t; bleau:
The act-;~: rop nlov;ly deccenc'ing cliows rSocbcth

Illustration 6 Following p.120

121
fairly giving way under tho mental strain to
which he ht s been subjected, and the bold, bad
wife who had dismissed the quests with courtly
grace, sinking at hie feet...It is a picture of
absolute despair, that almost moves to pity for
the blood-stained actors in it.
(The Era)
The Stage adds to this the details of Macbeth's falling
againct the wall QL he tried to leave the hall, and his wife's
frlling ;.t his feet, "sobbing, catching at his gsirment".
Previous tableaux had suggested one prrtner or the other in
better spirits* now both were equally despondent.
The Harvard prompt copy divides the acts of the play
according to season: a cycle completes itself by the end of
the third ret, and a la^se of years divides it from the
fourth, y/here r note suggests "Change all Beard s"« Act Five
ic surrrncr and Act Six autumn, whilct the last scene of rill
takes place "t sunset, Irving's fourth act consists of the
original Act Pour's first scenes (the witchos); his fifth act
uses Act Pour, Scene Three and Act Five, Scene One; the sixth
has the econd, third, fourth and fifth scenes of the play's
final act.
Irving's fourth net was set in a cavern, where Kccote
r^p cared, to conn one"! the vitcher, onins, equipped with an
electricali/-lit head. ress. The Era compared the effects to
those of the Brocken scene in Faust t
The Ti-^urc of Macbeth on a rocky eminence
r.it.mds hilc the hell broth storms,
and the spectres rise, there is hoard in
tuneful chorus the witches* chant MB?.ncI:
cjnirits and .iiite", while letter, the ocerio
is changing to a Scotch lake, beneath a
stormy ^.L-y, the cta^e io filled .vitii uecate's
hoot v/ho, vrvin," their rrr.r;, brcul; Torth
\vith the beautifully melodic chorus, "Come
av/ay", and bring down the curtains...
rho St^ce C"vc ace^crintion \vhich odc'n some detrils - the
cauldron was cot in a rock, Hecate's ho. d- ress ton!: the form
of a ctar, and the ei ; ht icings were seen "ac . rl-rin^ in a
st -an- cloud-":
The second tableaux it lierrlccd. by tho voice
of \ dtciios ninring, and as the ccene is disclosed,
v;e find whrt appear to be h.uidreds of
^r v-'.'r.-'-^ed c-iirits .,an'.'Crin.r; about v/ith uplifted
arms in a oort of valley, vhile fcr above

122
to the ba.ok a grcnd effect is obtained by
me< ns of on extraordinary bit of sky that
rau t be seen to be understood, eo wild
and frenzied is ito appearance.
Sullivan's music received considerable praise and was a-reoted
on the opening night v;ith come enthusiasm. The Times devoted
an entire column to the ocore, of which it regarded this
fourth act as the most important passage. The '..orde of the
witches' dialogue were declaimed to the music, rat..icr than
spoken or sung, an; 1 the orchestra was hidden, after the manner
of Bayreuth.
The incantation is introduced by on andante
maestoso of a singularly weird character, and
that character is well sustained throughout
the ccene. Ac each apparition rises from the
cauldron the strains of the orchestra empharize
its nature i- an individual and striking manner.
The critic was rcDiuiOcl by the first chorus of The Golden
Legend, but did not approve of the conclusion to the act,
which GO once1, reminiscent (as "operatic, evil—tongued" perrons
night object) of ':'.I''..o.Vin; fore. Sullivan end Irving wore
called before the curtain at the end of the ret, in true
operatic fashion.
Such an clabor te episode r.ii ;ht seem out of place in the
context of Irving 1 s carefully worked-out development of Ilacbeth's
psycholof-/, but it was in some respects consistent vitli his
ap^ro cii to the nlay. It conformed to Mo presentation of
tlio hero's icntal crises a^^inst a background of visual effects,
ac r. more eiahirrte equivalent of the "significant" tableaux
e.t the end of i.(nportant scenes. It was in keeping with his
policy of conbii.ing all the arts, in a Gesajn-blcunstwerk whose
Wagnerif n affinities were ompliasizod by its ur,e of the nor;t
advanced tocluiical anarajus (ctern, electric Lighting,
"tr-uirifomr tions") a.nc 1 the conceal nont of the jrchectra. : ihis
overall artistic policy and Irving's personal, pictorial
technique as an actor were co;.i^lcnent: ry. It v;a.s, moreover,
a new departure, for the witches were played by actresses
rather tham ac ors, and the v.unic attributed to Loc?:e had been
diacrrded. TJio opinion of The ^iner: was representative of the

123
majority o, its contemporaries in expressing no regret at the
passing of the traditional cct iri^tj:
Lockc...lived in the age of the Restoration,
which, although little removed from Shakespeare
by length of time, knew less of iiio spirit thr.n
does the 19th century. The melodies and harmonics,
the instrumentation and the vocal writing do not
lack a certain rugged force, but they arc wanting
in those subtleties of workmanship and of emotion
which are the birthright of tiie modern composer.
Irvins, ever represented as an innovator, w&s now credited
with having brought I.Iacboth into the music-theatre of the
Romantics.
Although the scene might be excused on the grounds
suggested above, the arrangement of the text within it presents
consider.-ble problems. In Irving's version, as in Shakespeare's,
the apparitions are followed by the arrival of Lennox, and by
the usurper's busineso-like ^reparations for the murder of
iJacduff'c wife and children j the or fin 1 scene-ending is brisk -
But no more si.h-ts{ - Where are these gentlemen?
Gone, bring me where they rro.
This is retained in Irving's text, and followed by the transformation,
and the chorus "Come awry", which cm only appear
as r:n r,^?endage designed for the audience's ile.'sure. Such a
conclusion would seem to weaken the play and, unlike nost of
Irving's scene—endings, focus attention not upon the central
chprc-cter but upon the ;;cnorrl forces pt work in the drama.
Irving obviously enjoyed surgesting the presence of ouch
forces - as . itness the "Fate tree" - but they were for the
most part used in direct connection ..itli the civ -.meter he
.il-ycd, and not indulged for their own r'r,kc. In ^ocbcth tlio
forces seen "t work were time (in the cli n,~ing seasons nnd
hours) and i.u icrii. tural evil, but in this gig; r.tic tableau of
the fourth ^ct Macbcth mu:_t have seemed r.laoct insii^nificc.nt,
a figure included only to ;;hov; the ccale of the backer .^und, like
the u;;.fortun: to victins of the apocalypses painted by John
»: r.rtin.
After an interval, and the S1 c:ic r.iiiv picture of on
iiglish country lane'' ( 'lie Ern)in -.vliicli Hacduff's f-'icf wns a-con
came the sleepwalking scene. Lady li;...cbotli apporrs alone, . r,tc..ed

124
by the Doctor and "ihc Gentlewoman and uncu-oorted by Macbcth.
If, as has been suggested above, Irving cmhr sized the importance
of the physical contact and mutual comforting on the part
of Macbeth and his wife, this scene would apperr to have had
a oooci 1 significance in his production. It certainly lent
itself to Ellen Terry's faculty for expressive gesture -
according to The Times i
.Vhile Miss Terry w; Iks in her sleep she holds
the house in a state of absolute, almost r> sinful,
stillness: her face is hn,rv;nrd and worn, her eyes
have a far away look, end as she soliloquizes,
her body sways to toid fro in a strangely awcinspiring
fashion.. .After the actress's withdrawal,
the house recovers itself with r.n effort, as if it
had been hypnotised.
The Saturday Review nas similarly impressed, and noticed that
"the recapitulation of the actual scene" of the murder wc/o
done "with just that r±r of reality v.liich carries v/itli it
conviction without a touch of brutality". Archer found the
scene inadequate - "she looked it to admiration, but did lit-jle
more" - vvhile The. Stage^ PC- sitting that the act re DC looked
"a beautiful picture, the conception of a poetic mind re , thought
that the "white clinging gamcuts and pain-strained free"
colled for "rdnirrvtion rather than pity and awe". Gordon Crair;,
in Ellen Terry one1, he_r Secret --olf (1931), cu : ;ested a rer.son
for the ineffectiveness of the
...you die1 not rliucder at the thought beneath
the words: "The Thane of vife had a vife - v/liere
ic she no-.v?" you only felt: "Poor Ellen Terry -
she is so oorry for tlic Thane of Fife's v/ife,
and is \vondcring where she can no'-'^i ily be now,
poor, poor de r. v.lu.t a nice V.-JJ.TII.
(p.
ilot every critic may hr.vc f::lt the filir.l CJT" '• thy of Crrij
for liic notlior, bu-t there was obviously some connection between
the el'fecto of her pictori'-l style and tac "nild" int^r-'-rotntion
of Via ch-racter. Other acorocses caul? i..iprecs by their
silent av>r>e:/rc.nce in this scene, and "lay hold of" the
•'7
audience's
"very i oul3", c*s an admirer once wrote to Helen Paucit" , but
the feeling arouccc) by Elle..i To-ry in ..uch ccenec - even that
in The Cup - was one of warn cy:3r> ; 'fcy rnd pttr. cti >>\, r: tlicr
tiv n pity qu, lified by av.o-struck respect.

125
The short scene which bo^rn the r.dxta act of the new
version was Shake •:•- scare's -ci; .Five. Scene 'j.'\vo, in y/hich the
audience learns from Caithness and /icntoith of lilacduff 's
approach. In the next scene Hacbeth r,o )crrc

126
Macbeth woo in continuous performance from its opening on
December 29 , 1888 to June 26 of the following year: for a shot
period in January the title role waa t;.!:en by Hernann Vezin,
whilst Irving recovered from an attack of 1 ryn/,itis« In a
final notice, published on July 6, ghe Saturday uoviov;
ace . imed the production as "a unique work of formative art"
in which
the scenery vvao an excellent subsidiary, and
nothing more, and ->layed neither more nor less
than the same part as did the picturesque
dresses of the" actors*
This was praise for the visual ensemble, but becked the
question as to what place the te;:t occupied in the tot; 1
effect. Irving &lv;ays maintained that visual effects were
subordinated to the ainc of the drr.:mr.tict. In the preface to
tho published edition of his ^acbotn version, he re-affirmed
the principle which, he said, had "always guided" .li.a:
namely, that to meet the requirements of the
r,t.".£e t without sacrificing the ~ur occ or tho
Toctry of the c.ut'ior, should be the rim of
those who produce the >layc of ohakefjpoc.re. 10
48
It was not a view which many contonnor^ricn v/ere inclined to
dispute. The reservations of Ai-cncr'o account of the production
were concerned -,;ith tlio precision with x.hi^h vieu 1 cfi'.cts
wore- obtr-lned end . itli the interpretation of the rargor cliarrctcrn,
but the basic premises - tact the j,-lry should be presented
as a r-uocccsion of &t'. c- it-tviroa coimor;oci. about the fibres
of "'acbeth rnd Lady Mac! : t V|..
Irvin,r'; . :-c not unjustly re^ r'/ed rs c-ii innovator by his
contem^or, ,ries - he brought m-..-loii'r;-nr.tic tec 1 nicuos to the
pl£'yiii.\ and ritacing of ShaL-ccscare, he r.;aint"incc a complete
control over tlie entire production of o r c::\ ;.lry ii: uio rcnrnd
he continaally cought nev; ''"'Oi-rits" anc": ncv/
in ..is o ;,.n -oerforHc.ncGS. Hie ir-oals em notliods were,
in due time, su ;cr& led - oicaiey Lee, by no ceans a revolut­
ion :>.-y, inclu'vcd t. o Lycctu-i ni^no;- ;ei-iont c.^.onc those v;Iiich had
tro; tod Shrkc.';pei;ro as a provider of "tcctelecs anr col-- '.rlecc
co,ir.->.oditiec M '..iiicii only c.vie. to life v;h-:n "rcinf >rccd by the
independent :rts of mui;ic rnd pai-itinr; 1 -"^. Lee woe ',,ritJ.n,T in

1912, and had witnessed the work of Poel and Harley Gr;.nville-
Barker: despite his suspicion of Pool's extreme bareness of
staging, he was no longer hoppy to accent a realistic mode
which constantly reminded s-occtators of its artificial okillc,
CQ
and iiich reduced orrrnp "to the level of the cinematograph 1* •
Bv,b Irving's methods of oroOuction, however outmoded,
had contributed to the new movement in the theatre. Craig
adiaired the actor-manager's authority and the artistic unity
of his ,;orl:, as is clc'-r from his short account of it in
Henry Irvinff (1930). "Io miglit reject the realism and the
concentr; tion on one or two centr-1 chiractors, but the rbrjtr ot
qualities of the Lyceum settings influenced his o,.-n monumental
concept! no. Ellen Terry noticed this, ond remcrl:ed in her
autobiography that Or; i ;- 's set for the church-r.cene in the
1903 Much Ado About lioiain/; shared enclitics oi1 ''vcistness and
1 •••-' —— •"-- - — 51
s .aciousness" with the tenole of Arteaiu iu The Cup. There
was aloo a ; inil rity Lictv.'cen Irvinfc-'s tendencjr to-wv-rdc nonliturr.ry
ofioctn and Craig 1 c ambitions - - ! tL.o theatre", he
v/rote in tiic fir:/i; v-ialogue Qn the; -'yi't of tlic ;A *» tro, "aunt
not forevor rely upon Ii vin;; a jl. y to p rfom, but nu:,t in
tr.ie perform pieces of itc> o.vn nrt i:
5?
.
The ne. t Lit op v/as the Gctr.bliohi-jciit of a nev; .-i^ure in
the tna.Litre, the independent C.iroctor, v/ho neit.ior \vroto nor
acted in tiio -Iryc to be porf-.ifiacC 1 . -Tho ctor, the u;.nr;x-r
and the author wore : Iroacly pre-Mjiat, their cl; ii.is to bo the
supervisor DI the tli rtricpl cv^.'it, and by tlio oi;:htoGn-ei ;-lities
a fourth contcnocr w is beginning to assort hi. .:;clfi the decigiior.

128
SCliilE PAi;,-,i;rt t DESI&ITER AND DIRECTOR - THE .;Q,tK OP GODWIN
AND L/GiMiiLD.

129
An undistinguished but commercially successful response to
Wilson Barrett's 1384 production of Hamlet was the Gt ioty
burlesque Very Lit le Heaalot. by ,,111-iam Yardley, first rjiven
on 29 .November 10-4. The mood of cheerful philistinism, in
which the new staging was mocked, wis established at the
begir/iing of the piece by a chorus of courtiers celebrating
the royl ra;.irri^0 (",'olf the ale and the cakes - ..hoat hip,
hip t ho>r;.y) and by choir scornful reception of t-:o comic
•^ed. jits, the Hon . Lewes :7o.v,Gncr-nz (::ic) anJ J.W.Guildastern,
F.S.A. The pair introduce themselves ,:.c antiquarian advisers:
.e'rc u-re to guarantee the :1; y,
. rchaeolo^rically all O.K.
They have little to do in Y. rdlcy's minim: >1 plot, and at the
end, when they take exception to the unwarranted reconciliation
between Hunlet -and Claudius, the royal majesty of Denmark
orders them to "Jhut unj" .
The Hon. Lewis in field and Edv.-urcl William Godwin, F.S.A.,
were the tv/o ;-^r;t prominent repi sentrtives of a new breed, the
•arch eoloricnl au^crvisor of theatrical proeuctions. No "outsiders"
hrd enjoyed v,c much influence ?'ith nrrv -rcnonts cince "'l-'Jiche,
and it v;as arguable thct t/ie cowers entrusted to then exceeded
thoce ;'iven to their distinguished pronece::sor. r.oth wished to
exercise control over all aspects of the pro.luctions upon which
managers on/;agGd then, and Godv.-in v;as the nore articulate of
tlie tvvo. In hit v/ork as r n interior decorr'tor and furniturenesi^ier
he solicit to combine thoce functicnc v/ith nractice as
an arciiitoct: in tue v;ords of hie obitur.ry in The___._rit_i:'jh
Architect, ,vie "forever ^leaded for a , reater reconcili rfcion
between the decorative and constructive arts*' (15 October 1HP6).
;ii;.- . nbitions v.itli regard to the ;>ro 3 uct:ion of "1 ys were ri^iler.
Got 1 ;in wac born in l'?33» and di not do vrsj si^nificr it; -,vorl: in.
the professional theatre until 1875, when ho ; vised Brncroft
in his I o duct ion of The ? 'T er^h'\nt of Vonice at the Prince of
Wales Theatre. The first production in v?hich he v/r-L profescionally
concerned - for v/hicii, thrpt is, he v;as paia a fee - v;o.s
John Colon:,n's /^v r V, at the Qucon'n ther tro in September i"7

130
Between 18?4 and 1875 Godwin had printed in The Architect a
series of articles on "The Architecture and Costume of Shakespeare's
Plays" (31 October 18?4 - 26 June 18?5). The main
subject of this series is the documentation of the dress and
furniture designs of the periods appropriate to the plays, but
two theoretical assumptions emerge: archaeology is always tor'-be
put at the service of a well-developed aesthetic sense, and
accuracy in matters of historical fact will in almost every
case lead to A aesthetically pleasing stage picture. Moreover,
the productions of Charles Kean, hitherto the ne plus ultra of
stage-management and historical accuracy, must be recognised
as being superseded by recent advances in knowledge and techniques:
I refrain from comparisons, but I will venture thus
far and say that, when a theatrical manager proposes
to produce for the public a play of such a king
amongst men as Shakespeare, it would become him to
reflect on the great progress of knowledge among
his audience since the days of Kemble and even the
younger Kean.
Recent productions have assembled "a series of the most foolish
and inane pictures the historian's art has to show us", and
have been a discredit to the stage (31 October 1874) - it should
be noted that Godwin never doubted that a reincarnated Shakespeare
would approve of his endeavours or endorse his theories.
It was unfortunate that after the qualified success of
The Merchant of Venice, Godwin should become involved >jith a
manager as inept and vulgar as Coleman. Coleman's imagination
was Limilar to that of Charl e s I'ean, but by 1876 it was beginning
to appear a little out of fashion. His Henry V was conceived
as a series of grand tableaux, acconrornied by excerpts from
Shakespeare and explained by a programme only slightly less
long-winded than the playbills issued by Charles Kean. There
were twenty-nine scene-changes and the choruses were spoken by
I.iiss L eight on as Clio, the Uuve of History, who introduced such
illustrative tableaux as "An Orgie £uicjin the Dauphin's Tent".
The device and its setting ('c neo-classical "Temple of History")
were derived from Kean's production. Less didactic and completely
inexcusable, was the inclusion of tv/o : 'Ckrr.ncl Incident.? 1 Ballets"
representing "The Falcon Clirxe" and "The twelve Angels' 1 and
choreographed by M.Leon jiispinosa, to music by Mr Iseacson, -who

131
had the honour of arranging the Music upon the occasion of
the last production of this piece in London by Lir Charles
Kean". On the first night, d;e pt ember 16, an inaugural
address was spoken by Miss Leighton, warning the audience
in an entirely appropriate manner:
Tonight, ye come to see strange pageants pass
Obscurely in a great Magician's glass. „
"The Entire Archaeology of the Pl

132
The solution of this unadifying Ldtoation is a roviow of the
qualifications required of at c- : n ,£corc::
r.0 doubt dre; i-oe, like scenery, require rehearsal
befora well-verceJ iir'jiii'oolo^ioto and artists if
actors vd;:h to bo n.'turr 1 and at ease, ond -inrhrvps
the time is not f ; r off v/hc-n tiiirj deoir-iblo attention
i.iay be civen to the details of historic oictureo
on or off Ltage. rJhis is entirely a uiatter of time
and ••t:i^e-uen:v;o;j.cnt. By securing a we ok for full
dress relic. i--r:,lc, and by engaging men more cultured
thru those ,vho now endeavour but are wholly incapable
to fill the position of eti r:- mcnc ;_cr or ac: istant
ctage mrm;,,~cr, 'one stage moy -anily be nude complete;.
There were, no doubt, failures of tact on both r,ii cs f but it
took the intractable Colacian to bring Godwin to the realisation
that his position in any professional theatre must be a proca.riouc
one, and that until it v-r.c consolidated ho could do
liutle of v.;;lue.
In tlio yo >.rr; tlvM, followed, Godv;in pursued a nu ber of
pctulii.i towards the theatre* "c undertook more on, ;. .^cuonts to
"r-oviuG" or "^un^rviac" tlio presentation of plr.-yc under London
:iiani"..f e.ioiitc.; he rernajnecl an aBciduous playgoer, of'': n annotati i r ;
his pro;';r!.'ranie in a ^nincr ;:u;:, -cctive of the Bristol controv:rn:/,
and of ^Gj-MUTd thaw's attrclza on raly and Au.jii.jtuc :•• rri •• . He
bec,..j.H-j rcu.L'..fer of ul^c Factor: 1 Pl:;.,vcrc, a society pctronioed
by L£\t'.y Arc.'iibrld Cambcll and fi.-. . rifccl prr'ily b*r cr.br:criptionc,
p .rt.ly by hlic i;alc of . c tc at i j;c r.-rf orn. ncos, and -r-.rtly by
i •;;;_•. no'ijle patrOiioas. ,Io alco co.'itinv.cd v:orl: ;.c n rrcliitcct and
I'ooi.-nor of ."ccor:'tio:\u c

133
"legitimate" ones, and lago was token "by Hermann Vezin, a
Philadelphian long since absorbed into the British theatre
and proud possessor of a degree from the University of
Pennsylvania, Vezin was indeed considered to be inordinately
proud of his unusual qualification, but he was dedicated to
the advanceiaant of literary drama and his name occurs often
in the casts of unusual or adventurous productions. In 1887
he played Count Cenci in the Shelley Society's c aring production
of the poet's play, and in the Pastoral Players* open-air
As You Like It, in 1884 and 1885, he played Jaquc>c. Prom
Godwin's not-3bool:s in the Department of Prints and Prav/ings
of the Victoria and Albert Museum can "be judged the kind of
attention pr.id by the Octd^icr to the staging and, more
significantly, acting of the plry. In addition to costume
sketches are corae notes on Vezin 's acting in Act III: Othello's
"Leave me" at II. 3. 244 is "too high and scolding tone", and
lago's "God buy you" at 379, when he is sarcastically offering
"ais rcsic~i-tion f since honesty is become vice, is "too flippant
after such pren
window? /,nd v/liy did a female character in the cone .'lay wear
a velvet dross in such supposedly hot weather? In the 'Gr; nd
tic Ballet D» Act ion" n.".jaia or tiic Burnin/ oulf at the

1..4
Alhainbra Theatre in December i860 three of the principals
were too stout. The programme for Masks and Paces (Haymarket,
January 1881) is covered with memoranda of the mistakes made
in a production whose archaeological details were under vYingfield's
care - Godwin wrote a letter to a newspaper to complain
of these inaccuracies. When bored, he drew designs, such as
the swords with different hilts which appear on a programme
for Clemency, or the Power of Love (by Hugh Fart ton, after
Augier's Plane) at the Park Theatre, Camdon Tov/n on February
21, 1881. Some of the notes offer information of n. different
kind, such 03 o. Description of i''orcutio*s "laugh ah ah to
begin" in the Court Theatre production of 1881 (v/ith Mme
Kodjeska) as "like Whietlsr".
'/he programmes of the Tt!eiiiingen Cocip'-ny's 1881 visit to
Drury Lone are ecpec i:\lly interesting. Together v/ith a sketch
of the assassination scene in Julius Cae&ar arc "Phosphorescence
sweoving by no thunder and. ligiitening ever so real" and
"1st scene back cloth forum fine*', agairiL b \.liicli io set "Scene
of foruii oaring speeches over body fins the rabble too v/ell
dressed". In Tv.-olf th I'ii.vit, \vhilct appreciating the us-e of
a ctDirccse txac1 tLs felicity of some details ("ho p of melons
in corner to ripen") lie coin^lr.insdj
Viola enters not dioaovelled o^ilorc v/or.k "but
all have shoes -orottily tied.
On rcfl«c±ioii he struck out "tied" and substituted "etrcv^ped".
•^ic.- . i.K "'... ±J-^ dicmr.yccT him b its multiplicity of architectural
otyles ranging from "Alhumbra" (Leontos -pc.lr.ce) to "12th
Ccnty... Cimabue...^ornan Renaissance Cabinet" and, least
congruous of all, "rodoni Criro". On n pro-rnnrnc for one of
the -jr.'.ys precented by the Dutch coa-onny c.urinr their vicit
in 1880, Coduin rcvir-rkod that in n brrhcr'r, rho:o cccnes
customer wit-i ^i^e going uriiiin.;- with it in
as he fcocc...pause before bo:,anning new subject
not folio-, cue at once.
.'•:ic attention tvao focacoc: not only on the jn-o-oortios and
ocenery of the productions^ho sr.v/, but on acting c-tyle and
"direction" of the

135
he was continuing hir work as a designer. In
1881 he agreed to design costumes and, it C'v>oon.rc, acenery
for ille's "Tragedy" Ju^no., produced by Wilson Barrett at
the Court Theatre on May 7> 1881. Among the Godwin papers in
the Enthoven Collection IB a promptbook of Juana, with many
sketches and stage-directions* arid a copy of n letter to
Barrett, dated iif.'.rch 31, 1881: Godwin agreed to a fee of
twenty pounds tfov-n, and five for every wee

136
but ac. an architect and interior Oec orator ;jn/! cabinet- "vJcer .
The terns according to v;hich Godwin heel worked on Juana
were reflected in his subsequent comrdsions. In 1C83, for
instance, he undertook to design the dresses, tout not the
scenery, of Robert Buchannn's Storm-Beaten, The fee for this
\r,: o t'.venty pounds, and c, rcyc Ity of t-.vo pounds for every vreek
of the run* In a letter a^r ce ing 1io te arrangement, sent 0.0.
4 Jrmu; ry l£C3» Godwin raolces Lie- desire to keep absolute control
of the costumes quite clear to ."uchaBrm - "It being understood
that I have not to call on any one"10 . The association with
Wilson Barrett continued: in Dec oral/or, 10C3 Godwin supervised
the production of Clcud.ian by '.villa and Henry Herman, and
publi. lied b of ore the first nifht A Few Ho teg On the Architecture
and C o o t ume . . • A L e 1 1 er to vVil s on Ikirr o 1 1 , c sq • , by E ;• W . Godwin ,
P.S«A. The live .pages of this o^nphl-t, '•--viulently published
for the benefit of -'jiic; press, give justifications for the
details of costume and ecoiiic cietiyi. A noto on the soaring of
Greek f;iirnioiits reflects the :~to.nd;.ux'1 n of t:iaplicit" ~.nd coraf or t
propounded by the Aec'i;ltotic cind hygienic refoi-rriers of coii-L
orary dross:
Hithoi'to euch (Treek cr^RseB as I h^vo seen on
the sta e have been co woi-ried with -Tins, and
puckered into ca-tificial folds that I truct v>?e
sliu'll Ii:ve CLToe-vble cur; rice by cccinf, tliesc
sirt^le farrronts v;or- in the artistic, unaffected
cu-d £in::;ly beautiful way that aiL-ciu^uiuhed i;he
v/e .roro ^f thorn in Fysirnlium, or "ithyriir.
(P. 5)
Barrett -:iO not accent all of ' o J.win ' o. recon cnu til one - he
reduced to .:c!:o nee of a convoy; no c rcco^blin^ p vdie ol-l^ar row
which the designer •>ro^iu.zv?r; Tor his ontr.y .In 1/ao lir, .t /ct -
but the two men r. inec'.i' to -iavo ^ctcrbliolioil a t.ood .;or T :ui^
relation;/ ;.ip. In 1- 84 GoC-.'.vin ru.d cbar^o of the t.rch^oolo^
of j/laulct, discu^aoc. in t'...o ne;it c i.otcr, -jiu ia I8o5 ho
superintori^ec.. l! the rjco:'.v;?ry, the '"rcr;a^c auv'. tho ^roapi ._,c " of
Lytton's JJ.HJ.U.L. The c itics were o.ivicleo. as ;;o tho neco~oity
of sntic,u.vri?.n kiio^lad^.c in f'-catriofl _T ;(..act : .ons, and .aony
took John Colo.-:-:a*o view oi' the buGiaor^s, but of the : :;oro
sympathetic judges the revicv/cr fror ^ruth v/r.£i tyiicnl ir. his
approcia b:l Jr. o ? ^ --ic 1 v,-?.n ' n c-ff ort a :

137
All move and walk as though they were in
Rome, and I would advise everyone who wishes
to form a clear idea of how the Romans looked
and lived to pay a visit to the Princess's
Theatre.
(Truth, *7 TH.H* 1885)
In this case the staging was more attractive than the play,
described by Punch as a tragedy "in five nets and a head-ache".
The Coombe theatricals of the Pastoral layers were
attracting some attention in the mid-decade. The 1884 As You
Like It, with Vezin as Jaques and Eleanor Calhoun as Rosalind
was repeated in the following year - on both occasions Lady
Campbell played Orlando - and in 1885 Fletcher's The Pai.tlifull
ohepherdesse was aclr'ed to the repertoire. In 1886 the venue v;as
changed to Cannizaro Woods, Wimbledon Common, where Fair Rosamund,
adapted, designed and directed by Godwin, was presented,
with Genevieve Ward in the title part. This was an adaptation
of Tennyson's Socket . Ticket s cost a guinea and the programme
informed matrons, "Horses can be taken out and picketed, and
Carriages dr .wn up in shade in a neighbouring field".
The direct result of these performances v/as a fashionable
ent-iusiasi i for open-air theatricals, in suburbs of varying
degrees of glamour and by actors of varying skills: one such
evening, made miserable by poor weather, forms the subject of
the opening sketch in Anstey's Voces. Populi, published in
1890, where Caliban objects to playing with a '.vet hump, and
the audience find themselves unexpectedly summoned a'.vay rt the
first opportunity. Aesthetically, the effect of the perfomanccs
at Coombe .ould seen to have been very fine. The circular
advertising the activities of the rroup orocl- inc. t.lioir aim:
By quitting the artificialities of the theatre
the 'PASTORAL PLAYERS ore enabled to take ncvrntr.ro
of natural beauties, so re to exhibit their art in
a light -ooculicrly adapted to the rcviv 1 of Clr -. n.ical
effect.
"Clrocicism" - the orer.onto.tion of the ancient \ orld in a
faithful manner - had been the appeal of such spectacles as
Charles Kean's productions of The inter's T--lo and Uyron's
Sardanapulus in the eialiteen-fifties. now the ap-ooal v;as directed
not so ijuch at the hunger of the nirYile and lower classes for
edification, as the desire of the wealthy and educated to oee

138
in the flcah the customs of t:ie classical ..oriel. This did not,
of course, ap ;ly to Ae You Like It in the same degree as to
Junii.s, Claudian or The Faithfull Shepherdei.se, but the intention
and the appeal were similar, v;hat might "be partii-lly achieved
in the public theatres, with the co-o aeration of an enlightened
manager such as Barrett, would be allowed to flourish in the
woods of Coombe and Cannizaro, v/ith tickets at bne guinea and
carriages drawn up in the shade in a neighbouring field. Finance
still dogged the manager in these pastoral surroundings, as
the account sheets reveal. In 1884, Vezin was -oriel ninety pounds
- but a note by Godwin reads:
under the circumstances I think he may take -5
instead of £10 for each performance perhaps until
there is a b. lance in our iYvour,, „
Lady Coni.oboll's aid notwithstanding, the Players found some
difficulty in keeping their books balanced. The success of the
,j^,ys wc.s undoubted, and it seomed that, despite financial
difficulties, Godwin had achieved the working arrangements he
required: one of the -ilayoro wrote, anonymously, in The Graphic
on August 2, IC'84; that "no-one, not even r Kermann Vezin,
ventured to interfere with the lines loid down by Ur Go v/in",
He had now control, over not only the dressec end surroundings,
but the text and acting of the pla^s.
The final important production by Godwin wae tint of John
Todhuntor's Helena in 'Irons at Hengler's Giro is on I lay 17»1'°36.
For this he constructed "strv e surroundings" which, a rogranm
note explained, "a play on such a subject npy have received at
Athens or Corint'i in the dayo of oonhoclor:". The reviewer sent
by The Morning; Post observed thr.t the theatre, './ith its rrcna
covered in linoleum painted to resmble marble n vinr;, its
r.ltar ancl its sl:ene t resembled "one of i'r Al.aL' 'x'adena's pictures
magnified and turned into ctone" (18 Mry 1; 06). i!iio acting of
a largely amateur conr,-)- ny, i f^Luding Constance .ilde, v;;-s
uneven in quo,lity, but the ensemble was i;:ri^e: sive. According
to The Pall Mall Gazette t
fifteen ladies in v;IiiuO robec, ; inr.ln^ to, ;otiior,
and executing 'X7:ioir gracoful -lovencntc om .juiij?or.;:
postures v:it:i TJI accur; cy v.liicli choivccl the r.ost
careful training,

139
wore adequate consolation for the shortcomings of the play and
some of the acting. Priam was played by Hermann Vezin, and
because the performance was in the first inotciace a matinee for
benefit of the British School at Athens, a number of theatric .1
celebrities, including Irving and Ellen Terry, were able to
attend. It is this production by which Godwin has, been represented
to posterity - its cla siccil form t its set built from
simple geometrical shapes and its open arena have been seen
as cuccc 'tive of the work of Crc.ig and Ar>-->ia. it is illustrated
by Denis Bablet, in his standard work on the origins of modern
stage design, and by Sybil Eoaent'eld in her recent history of
ccenic art in Britain* A photograph of the akone, with the
chorus draped about it, has been reproduced in a popular account
of Acctheticism and elsewhere* ^ Oscar vilde, influenced no
doubt by his friendship with Godwin, and hie wife's participation
in the production, wrote of it in terms which must have
ap er.led directly to Go^,;/in's ambitions:
Mr Goo.win is fjo-r.ctliiiv: more than a more
antique rim. He tokos the facts of rrchaeology,
but he converts them into rrtistic and dramatic
effects, and the historic I accuracy, that underlies
the visible cha ics of beauty that he Tare;, its to us,
is not by any means the distinguishing quality of
the completed mirk of art* This quality is the
absolute unity and hurmony of the entire presentation,
the presence of one mind controlling the minuteot
details, and revealing itself only in that true
perfection that hides personality.
(The Pramctic Review* 22 i-ay l'T-6)
The l,;vst phrase may ceem a strange one for ..ilde, the ler.st
i;.i;)cr oiir-1 of .-.rtists, to use,but it \vr.s ap -jroprir.:te to the
icicle of Gor v/in , which WilOc had absorbed anc was now, after
his UGuol fashion, retailing and endorsing.
Godwin's first series of articles on t:io principles of
stage design, published in the nicl-seventies, Iirvc i^en diccuooocl
by ,;. oclwyn '.lerclmnt in his book, Shakoapecire aii.d ^lio Artist
(1959) and in a subsequent article, but the second ccriec,
published a decade Inter in The Dramatic Review, appear to have
been overlooked1^. The earlier pieces do; 1 for the moct part
with the ectablishiaent of the hictorie-l period appropriate to

140
each of the plays in the Shakespeare canon: the series which
begins in February,1885, deals with general principles and
with Godwin's own experiences as a designer. Thus, tho first
article (February 8) argues that "stage pictures of the past
times should be treated pari passu, as life itself is treated
by the dramatist % and contains the suggestion which 1'ilde was
reflecting (if not copying intentionally) in hie revicv/ of
Helena in Troasi
The archaeologist, in a word, must be
an artist, endowed with the oona© of form and
colour, having constructive-loss well developed,
and in sympathy with the dr;.r,v'tic purpose.
Distinctions must be made in understanding the requirements of
different periods: the eighteenth century demands attention
fin t and foremost to tho fine details of dresc and habit,
whereas "tho higher poetical drama represented by Shakespeare"
needc, "first of all, for its costume, scenory and properties,
artistic treatment". The ar sumntion behind this is the fauiliar
Victorian one - that Shakespeare end "higher poetical" plays
are to be treated in an idealized manner. The rir^r.iont, in
its least enlightened form, was used agrinst the "re;'linn" of
Godwin's and ,/ingfield*s ^reductions by ciueb critics as Clcnont
Scott, and it is interesting to sec that G-o

antiquary, it is due to him to let him stand or fall
by ft'.s own merits or demerit EJJ but if he have little
or no confidence in him, the actor should se k advice
elsewhere.
The indignation expressed in 1876 has been generalized, but
the claim is identical - a touch of absolutism in some of the
phrases seems to onticipate the utterances of Edward Gordon
Craic,
The next article, "Archaeology on the Stage ,11" appeared
on February 22. Godwin suggests that three critics should be
sent by serious publications to cover each play, dividing their
a.-cir;nmcnt into acting, text and accuracy of mi s e-en-ac ene ^
Then he discusses his own experiences with Bancroft's 'Proliant
of Venice and Coleman 1 s Henry V. It appears that Godwin's
mo in point of die agreement with Coleman was the setting for
ectminster Abbey, of which he wished to represent two bays,
in full cize "and filling up with hangings, screens, "banners,
carpets, etc.". Coleman insisted on having the whole church
reconstructed "in toylike proportions" and obstinately refused
to consider a plan later adopted to;; Irving for the Church Scene
in i.Iuch Ago about Nothing. In the 1?74 'ere -coit of Venice,
some -nages of the Do.^c entered in cloth of gold,
a-npar, ntly untoned cud unrelieved. The filare of
it was quite enough to destroy any scene, and was
ac childish in effect no the whole interior of
westminoter Abbey was on the stage of the Queen's
Theatre.
This wo.3, to oay the least, tactless „ and must have seemed
petty, especially in the lip-lit of Go tf win's failure to specify
the reasons for liir; ctntcrjcnt that both nroductions "suffered
iron bad r;ctinc" as v/ell as "glarinr blunderc that chould liove
been pyoided". In the issue of F>,rch 28 Colenan replied,
iri(?i,'_-iir.ntly maintaining that Godwin v;ns employed "not as en
artist but an archaeologist":
I regard the forr.icr ao & creator, tlie leit'Cer
as a copyist - hence I retained this gentleman
to copy certain costumes, scenes and nrooorties.
ile returnee] to the attack in an article "On 3tp;-e pnagement",
in the issue of i.lar"h 14: Coloiar-n liota the superhun; ji qualitioc
donanc'ed of a good Mrjia^or, who should no.: cess amon,: :;.:t other
talents "the painter's eye for colour, the oculptor's sense of

142
the beauty of proportion, and the mechanic's skill for
invention". As for the antiquary, hie pi co is ,,oll below tlirt
of th i, n. ; ,,r, whose duty it ic,
to --joint out to the ar^ 'ideologist the particular
rrci-i. oolorical "cr. in" required; fo the costumier
the , i:.r ->o, ..;;>. tori: 1 and coTour of tiio coctume; to
the "ird;-)07.'ty man tho rinke, ; iac, dimensions, and
( rite of tiio furniture an: 1 properties requisite*
Color.i n's own talent as o. manager was slight, as his productions
to;.. tifi-.c! - tlio most memorable was a catastrophic Pericles ""
at
otrstiord-upon-Avon in 1900 - but hie view of Godwin's
pretensions v/rs not unrepresentative of such kindred noirits
ao Daly and Harris*
Godv/in's series of articles continued with a discussion
of the t. Jrjaos's Theatre As You Liko It (7 = larch), which will
be referred to in tl^.o subsequent chapter doolinr • ith that
P :oc.uction. The c i: cuacion was extended in the next article
(15 September), ; here Gc -vir claimed that poor re tine should
not be blamed on good stagings
U.:IG fuct ic, tlic curioly of actors, though plentiful
enough, is bod, and the more scholarly and i
your scenery and surroundings tho more evident does
';li-i c unv.elcono Js-'.ct become — that t./.ere ir no
school of acting in England.
The fifth article describee the author's vork on Clsudian (19
September) and the sixth returns to the desirability of one
artier be in;; fr*iven sole command over . 11 ni tters of dcci; '.
Godv/in nentions that ?.ilary Anderson, iiavin • obtained designs
from the pj.i.ntor G. !.V#rvbts for hor ov/n costumes as Tiocalind,
offered him the co.:..:dcsion for aJLl tlie ot.ier dresses in her
production of As You Like _I_t.. - he refused the offer:
A;- You Lil'e It, i'ron :;he uocicris of Mr G.P./tatts,
•..D'ald li.. .vo bu.cn as interesting and, po;.,;. ibly, as
inctructive as Joriolaiius by t'.r ^il-aa-'JaiJcms*
.r Irving, hor;evcr, i; i1 . r too clover thr n to
dream of r;iving only a bit of hie st ;;;e "icture
by IJr Al. -a-^ador-a. lo is good --nca, h manager to
know til t if he starts in A iajor he rrast keep in
the same !;oy..« -, f-
(10 October 1885)
The final pJ.cco, published on October 24» atts.cks S.G "unscientific"
the ^ro^'calD of the Oecie-ncr /-.Ifred Thompson for a Now
A
York production of isiomeo and Joliot, mentioned in tlie October

143
10 issue of The Dramatic flovi.ew» It also includes a reiteration
of Godwin's defence of nntiquorianiom as m artistic pursuit.
In his "Tor 0*Clock" of February 20, 1885 f ahi^ler had
complained:
are those also, sombre of mien, and wise with
the wisdom of books, who frequent raur.ej-ac; and burrow
in crypts. ..True clerks of the collection, they nix
i icnorant.'la v.dth rxibition, and, reducing Art to statistics,
they "file" the fifteenth-century arid "pigeon-hole"
the
If this was directed at hia friond G-o< van, it was unkind (but
not uncharacteristic) of .liintler* Godvdn replied:
il'ne Arc:ia,oologist or Antiquary, however much ^r
•vhistler may think to the contrary, is ivonetliing nore
then a frequenter of museums and a patron of pigoon-
"liolorj. His method or ment, 1 attitude ia of cnecir.l
rdfmficance; and you can no more make him off-Iirnd
than you c n make en artict: indeed he must have some
of the artict's qualities, or, at Icacri, be olc to
iaagine in his mind's eye the features of the past
and interpret ito records and aemorials.
Godwin had attempted in July the mcna^oraont of a fully r-rofc;.
cion' 1 company, \.hon he presented 'llio pool's Revenge at the
Oiicrr Conique, -dth Vezin as Bertuccio: the combination of hot
weather anc- Taylor's olrl-fr,shioneC lay ITT, not pro-dtious,
and the venture vr s u. icuccessf^-il. John Colonnn reviewed it in
The Dramatic Review in c mrnner far from corapli lentar^, describing
Gociv.dn as the "Mr n-Mil liner" - a gratuitous insinuation
of o-fcninacy« The designer's Irct success was Helena in Troas,
anc" on October 6, ir>;'6 he ''•Voc 1 . after a lithotomy. His burial
was described, approprir tely, in the column "Drees niu' tlie Drana"
of The Drcriatic Hcviev;t
Thourh all wos cindo c.s bright rs ;j oc..dblo, .--t
least in tJic lior.rts of tlie many oorrowing
fricnc 1 ;:: v/ho concrecnted round hia £:rave, the
bolls must Iiave toiled for tlio funeral of "r
Goc vdn. His remains \vcrc laid in the old churcii
near Clic'lbery, where a .117 of his artistic suLr; ;:;ostions
h. vc been carried out. The coffin, draped in
v;hitc and covered in flowers, v;cx borne to tiis
,-rr*vc by ci:: f:.-.rn-labourers. f,5ro Go civ/in. . .v/as in
bl; clc, thoucih not in vdcloxv'c woods, and carried
a larf;o bouqact of ter.-ro;:ec, v;iiilat L,.cl.y Archibald
Campbell. . .v/ore a Turple velvet clrcc-.c. am' cap to
-etch. (By [o .lor r : -- t -3 October l.°P6)

144
The etc c-Li;'ru'^eraent of the ceremony would presumably have
been ap reciated by the deceased. After a decent but brief
wido' hood, Beatrix Godwin was married to Vhistler on August
n t J.-.IUO.
il 1 O
The carcor of the Hon. Lo\vis Strange in^iield was more
varied and less distinguished than that of Godwin, By turns
ho v/ao actor, surgeon, painter, war oorrespundent, balloonist,
dr.-nr-tic critic, novelist, historian of dress and theatrical
designer. Educated with n view to the dinIon; tic service, he
took up acting and appeared as Koderigo in IT65 to £rn.
Aldridge'a Othello. For a v;hile he studied painting, and then
went to Antwerp to train as a surgeon. Returning to art h?
became a punil of the Parisian nr-inter Edouard Frere*During
the days of the Commune he distinguished himself by his energy
and devotion o.s a surgeon, and joined to this activity that of
v/nr correspondent to The Times and The Daily Telegraph, '-ie
returned to London, set up a studio at Maida Vale, arid, exhibited
paintings at the Royal Academy and the Suffolk Street Gallery.
At intorv,ils in his life he travelled in the near and far
orient, publishing accounts of his d^ontures, ,'Ie irvulccd in
a nu!:iber of •.'himsical erroerinonts, such rs a«-:onoinr tho Derby
in the guir.o of c nigger minctrel and beconing an attendant
at a madhouse iuid ;~ oricon* He also cpent exploratory nights
in v;orldiouces ana "pauper lodgings".
Under the pseudonym ".,'hytc Tyghe" ho -vroto drvvtic
notices for i'iic Globe, anf ho was recponsible, ^ropria po_:-conr,
for tho translation of Schiller's ilnria 3t .art used by ''[3:10
Iloc'^josl'a at the Court Theatre in 17-80. His moot successful
novel v;as the tliree-volume Lady Grig el; an Impression of a
.oi.iL'iitous opoch (I'.'VO), which dealt with incidents in tho life
of Elizabeth Ghudlcigh, Duchess of Kingston (172C-1788) - a
lady notable for- a life of ;?ro;::ir.:cuity and her auccosoful
trial on a eliar^c of bigamy. After a life no less crowded, but
less iii! ecorous tlion that of his heroine, 9,in.'-ficld died at
the age of forty-nine on Ilovcr.ber 12, 1891, of a di mace
contracted during his service as a v;ar correspondent on the
1884 Sudan canyaicn. The Korning Poet, in its obituary, described
him as "orientirlly a h:r-n of action", whose theatrical
work had shown a "singularly accurate" l-:nov/ledge of cortuno.

145
The Iirasfrratod London iiews remind< a readers that his antiquarian
knowledge had boon combined with nn understanding of
state toyhniquo ana effect, and that he had been "fin absolutely
fearless and independent critic".
Botri ..incfiolu ant": Cfj-a/;in had ';o contend 'vith the frequent
o'bdu.r icy of :jt;v;c— managers and actors. ^ccno-^aintorc, too,
offered rcci^t: ncc to JjVo ir.torrf or once of learned advisors.
diaries Kean can be seen, fro.: corrosion:" 1 once in the .Folger
Library, keeping a balance between ":I hie c'eciro for i.-vrcccivo
display, the need to be arc Ideologically accurate, and the
self-respect of n-rieve. There is c. r:uc;.. option of Crur^iles and
the pump about liis solicitude for thu ,' ,v,iiit/in of ^rcthusa,
and he reveals a creator concern wi.Ii qur;.i-ot ac tion^ 1 values
ii". his letters - and, indeed, in the ^laybilis of liis --iroductions.
It io cle.-r from p.n earlier letter, in ;nich he expresses
a desire to :.j.ov/ Got'v/in and ^rieve, over .-.iivur, o. i'cv; archaeological
illut'trr'oions lie h: B obt,"ine6, -j:^t Kean exorcised

146
considerable diplomacy in cealing with an unpaid learned
op
advisor and a paid and important scenic ariist.
The diplomacy of managers occasionally broke down, but
it v/aa ,11 the more necessary in the 'eighties, when a distinguished
artist might be called in to provide materials for
the scenic artists. Joseph Harker, who first achieved prominence
in the last two decades 01' the century as an assistant to
Hawes Craven at the Lyceum, takes pains in his reminiscences
to assert the independence of the men who painted cloths and
flats, and to remind his readers that Alma-Taderaa, ^illais
and Burne-Jones might offer DUG cations but did not themselves
execute the scenery. In Alict Comyns Carr's memoirs, the
designs submitted by Burne-Jones for King Arthur (Lyceum,1895)
are described as "very different from the uoual bald sketches
given to a manager to play about v/ith as he pleased" - a phrase
suggesting that it was Coleman's approach to artistic and
o\
learned aut -ority tliat prevailed on raost occasions. i:oteo
On Godwin's programmes expressing reservations about t!ic scenery
of productions of which he was nominally in control, remind us
that the paint—frame was another kingdom, proud of its autonomy.
Another factor to be token into account when considering
the efforts of the "experts" is the grov.-ing sophistication
of the frankly comnorcial and popular theatre. Critics might
disapprove of the tendency for ballet, ^mtomime arid extravaganza
to lean heavily on display and lavish settings, rather
than on literary, or at least narrative, content, but this was
a sphere in which designers were striving for effects not
unlike those which applied to Shakespeare. C.A. iliieln - the
pseudonym of ..illiara John Char :.es Pitcher - v;;. s insistent that
in liim should be vested sole authority over the "ballets and
panto-linos he designed:
the success of the ,:;tage picture - rrouping and
background - depends on its initial conception
cc a whole; and this must undoubtedly onrnate
from one brain. .
Where did this Ic.ivc Augustus Harris, or the choreo^anher and
scene-painter appointed by hin to prepare the pantomimes in
which ilhelm's processions and tableaux played an increasingly

.47
important part? v ilholra^ in the article quoted, mentions hlo
cjuccoeoful co-operation with Telbin cmd others* and it io
poeoible that hie theatrical, as oppoaed to antiquarian,
backGround weo on acoet in oatnbliahinc working relation**
ships - his first work hi d been as en aociotont to Bevorley,
one of the noot ^rominent of nconic artiatc.
It io do' r from ,;P.haln*s rrticlc, published in 1899,
that hie concern v/ith occur c^ of hiotorical detail ©nd with
sublet? of colour VK.--Q of n piece with Godwin* c, and with the
Aesthetic revolt a^roinat 3eokitt*s blue end oa^enta. Ho eld not
like to use supplement M-y liffle*lighting - "reinforcing the
fiery-furnace of -ci>o footliglrte 1* - and he 0ou,:ux' in his compositional
aucce Siva lineo of dancers mer£*ed alnoot
imperceptibly from rhododendron nouvc,
t!irou£^ht orchid and petui'iir peach toner:,
into a full azalea rooc-^ini:, the coral of
a boconic, and the pale flume of t;.ic aoaryllio
lily, followed" by llio vvcira nriso, the
cl

148
We hope we are doing Sir i^uire Bancroft, the
late Mr Wilson Barrett and others no wrong in
assuming that, though they were instrumental in
forwarding the movement inaugurated by E.W.Godwin,
they were not the source from which the whole
movement sprang, 27
He added that Bancroft, Bnrrett and the rest did little of
any value without Godwin - a characteristically absolute and
tactless staeuienis, interesting in GO far as it draws attention
to Godwin's dealings with these men, rather than to his more
obviously avant-garde work at Coombe or in Hengler's Circus.
Godwin and ;.ingfi e i', like the managements which employed them,
were obliged to achieve a compromise. On the one hand was the
kind of absurdity evident in Coleman's Henry V - a pale imitation
of Charles Kean's didactic and h phassardly pleasing
approach - and with it the near disappearance of the text. On
the other was the tasteful and seductive dioplry of the Alhambra,
and of the tableaux in Drury Lane pantoinimec. If it was
accepted that display was required, it had to have come relation
to the literary text. In addition to this problem was the more
fundamental one posed by the 1 -"ic-1 conclusion of the antiquarian
pursuits should the original circumstances of performance
be reproduced? One of Godwin's ex-nori.ionts, Iloloiia in
Troas, provided a Greek equivalent of .illiam Pool's efforts
to reconstruct Shakespeareon etc -gin-, AL YOU Like It, by
contrast, offered the ultimate romantic recliom - a real wood.
Thio was probably resolved for Godwin, in so far as his
professional Shakespeare productions were concerned, by the
assumption that Greek plays (or the "matter of Greece") could
only be shown in the Greek mcrinor, i.hilst Shalce. poare'c ployhouse
y/ae only an imperfect ana malce-shift arrangement, erected
while the world awaited the picture frame stage. Greek
dramatists had values of their own, Shakespeare's were those
of contemporary Victorian playwrights.
uis failure to make the step towards Pool's kind of
antiquarian theatre has left Godwin nnc his Shakecpearean
productions with little prominence in most thortre-hictory.
In the following: chanter hin _!%.;•;. let is c'lic.cucccd as an attonmt
on the ->art of a commercial man;:'a client to provicc a ta

lively and pleasing alternative to Irving's methods - not so
much by negating them, as by cOHftlnc tho emphasie of the
plr,y and li chtoning its melancholic, romantic burden.

150
Chapter Three
GODWIN, ..ILuOIi BAiiRETT AND U/^ r.IiT - 1884.

151
On 16 October, 1884 the first mojor London production of
Hamlet since Irving 's opened at the Princess's Theatre, under
the management of v/ilson Barrett. The performance combined the
talents of r. rising actor-nann^or and of E.W.Godwin, and it
incorporated a number of interpretative innovations. It moved
quickly, avoiding the "funereal gloom" which, Clement Scott
observed in hie Daily Telegraph notice, too often associated
itself with the play (1? October 1884) 1 . Hamlet and, more
notably, Claudius and Gertrude were younger thrn they had
hitherto appeared; the play was set in tenth-century Denmark,
rather than in a vaguely Renaissance kingdom, and the text had
been newly arranged and edited to give a number of "new readings 1
which startled experienced playgoers and readers.
The theatrical car, er of E.W.Godwin has been described
in the preceding chapter: some account remains to be r^iven
of the standing of the inonogement which -as responsible for
the new production.
i. -ilson Barrett and the Princess's Theatre.
In 1880 Wilson Barrett merited an entry of one inch in Pascoe's
j)r; :aati( f Lijjt, where it WP.S noted thr.t before becoming manager
of the Court Theatre he had acquired "considerable refutation
in the provinces as rm rotor end mn.no ^er", being lessee of the
Gr-nd Theatre, Leeds and the Theatre Royr.l, Hull. After a
season at the Court Theatre, curing which Elena Foojeska made
her first appearance on the London stage (rs Constance in
Mortimer's HeTtcr.roc on 1 ! ;ay, l',oO, he tool: possession of
the Prince c's Theatre in June, 1881. Edwin Booth had in vlr.rch
completed a season which ivd begun in November with Hamlet, and
hr:d displayed :iim in a re-->cr";oire of "over twenty-five different
imerr.-onr-fcions". In the scrsons v/hich followed Br.rrctt establiched
his nrinpr^ricnt r-s no unworthy c.ucccnnor to that of the
vicitor, and by 1°92, when The Dramatic Peorara was published,
p
he merited two pages of biography.
Barrett's rr >ic; rise in -u"blic esteem w;.,s 'uo in ercrt
pert to his esnouopl of "r. orioun" melodrama, olicitinr: the

152
approval of literote and intel i, out playgoers and critics,
without alienating those of more conservative tr.stee. The most
important of these plays was The Silver King> whose success
has been discussed in Part One, Charter Three (pp.6l-3)» a^
which was revived, vithout serious loss of credit, in 1888
(at the Globe) and 1889 (at the Princess's). By the end of
the i ecade Barrett had produced works of a similar ; .-ppeal, if
not I'll of equal success, by o number of writ ere with some
literary standing or pretension. These plays included Chatterton
by Herman and Henry Arthur Jones (22 Mry 1884), 'ooo':i-n
Blind by Jones, and the same author's The Lord Harry (18
Au-ust 1885 and 22 February 1886). Barrett collaborated v/ith
Hall Caine to produce The Ben-my-Chree (17 May 1888) and The
Good Old Times (12 February 1889). Sidney Grundy's Clito (a
"Tragedy", 1 May 1886) and Palgrave Simpson's The Golden Ladder
(22 December 188?) were produced, and Jills *c Claud ion (in
collaboration with Henry Herman, 6 i-cconbcr 1883) hud considerable
success. Barrett ceased to be the loose© of the Princess's
for two seasons in the middle of the decade (lf'86/7 and 1GG7/ -
he returned in May 1888), but he associated tlio theatre's
name ,1th exciting and literate drama, .lion he undertook
Hamlet he v;as already"fortified by n course of superior melodrama"
(The Times, 17 October 1884), and The Daily Mews
cl: inecl that
The recent performanc s of Mr wilson Barrett in
Romantic drama have finally -ol-^cec 1 him in tho
estimation of playgoers in the foroinoct ronk of
living actors.
(17 October 1804)
He was in a position to challenge Irving on his own ground.
Unfortunately Barrett 's iinnounceraent of the rjlay had not
met v:ith univorcal approval. The ^ra, a professional paper,
warned -liic in February th t he should steer cle ^r of Shakespeare,
and ;:;uc.' .'isted tliat "strong emotional frama is demanded
nt the Princecs'G, and nothing else ever prospered there to
any extent" (2 February, 1884). Another th atrical prpor,
Tho aitr'ncte, began itc review of the firrt ni.^it ominously,
with remarl:a about "v- ulti:ir cr.bition":
lcin- for ourscl-'-cs, -,.e Imvo no {rcat hones of
the venture, for, ir. f.ic firot il,?ce, the Princess's

Illustration 7 Following p.152

haa never been genarous to the Bard; and, secondly,
while admitting i/lr Barrett's general soundness a»
an r ctor, we have yet to see him propel fcicjany
of those striking linlis of evidence likely to
convince us that PS Hamlet he would be anything
aporoaching a revelation. (25 October 1884)
It was a criticism with which Barrett met often in the
professional journals - in 1888, on his return to the Princess's
The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic flev/s declared him to
be sure of success "if only he ?/ould not trouble cbou^ \
Shakespeare and that sort of thing 1* (2 June 1888, reviewing
The Ben-my-Chree). In other quarters his cultivation of
literary and artistic society was viewed with some suspicion.
iVilliam Archer observed the presence of Lord Lytton, John
Ruskin and ^irtt.iew Arnold among the first-night audience of
Hamlet, and described them in The World as a superior sort of
claquei
The ^-icricans have a convenient term for the
managerial miracle by which this ana other
squally surprising results are broa ;;-Y\t about.
They call it "getting up a boom"; and of this
art Mr Barrett is past master.
(22 October 1C~'4)
It v;:.s ironic that Barrett, whose fear of Irving's supposedly
unfair nanf-;Tcri.?l tactics h: c been mentioned (p.^3above),
should OG accused of "getting up a boom".
i'he measures trie en by Barrett to oublicise his productions
wore probably no more or lecc devious th. n those of noct
managerss he v/ac a .ueloOr.araatic actor who v/i:.-heo to broaden
hio repertoire, and he suffered in consequence from the
jcaloir.y or snobbishness of fellow-artists. Hie :laua^omcnt was
remarkable for its ambitious contemporary repertoire - in
which rocnect it cumocced the Lyceum - and its o>ise...blo. Not
only C±(L Barrett employ Gocwin as on adviser ,and Bevcrloy
anonrct his ^rintiiir ctrff: he was praised for t..ie unity and
consistently hi la stcnc'.-.rc! of acting in hie c >mpany. Plat
Arnold observed in his ^ovicw of '2~:.c Silver \inr-t
Inctead of tlie company v;ith a ein,^lo ()o- orful
and intclli:r;o'-"'t performer, . ith t?.o o r three
.nic'dli'ir ones, and the rest moping ant mowing

154
in v.hat wo 3 not to be called English but rather
stages*, here was a \.iiole company of actors, aw.e
to speak English, claying intelligently, cuonorting
one another effectively.
The pr-'ice which Arnold had hitherto reserved for French
acting and staging wo.s now bestowed upon Barrett, and although
some critics (such as The Athenaeum's) were unshaken in their
suspicion of the principles of c\c tor-ma n:\rer a, it was generally
agreed that Barrett was reaching Continental standards of
ensemble v.l
It eeems that Godwin's collaboration was instrumental
in the establishment of this reputation. As always, it is
difficult to decide the extent of Godwin's pov;ers and responsibility:
a •;.!.: .nar-cr was obliged to have regard for the selfrenpect
of tho to clinical staff, and for hie own reputation cs
st co-ia.--.un.gcr - it would have been impolitic to credit Godwin
y.lth "direction" of the performances. Ir. the first-night
prograraric of Hrnlot ha v/; c ascribed "Coctumec, Properties and
Furniture" (not, it is inportrnt to note, scenery); later in
the run Godwin was credited simply .;ith "The Archr.cology of
tho ?lry". The designs for Lirnlct in the Enthoven Collection
bear out the former •irorrriame note, for Godv;in devised cocnrc,
shields, a throno and ?.~rinl.:in.s well rs co.jtuir.GS.
4
Sinilai-ly, he nur.t hnvo been respocible for the colour-scheme
of the production - brilliant reds and :;olos against the
generally sombre ecenic backgrounds - and for some of its
novelties . The arrangement of the ^Icy-scene in the gardens
of the crotle owed much to the Coombe theatricals* 3ono notes
on an envelope, which survives among the Go: v,in papers at the
Enthovoii Collection, ; uf:ccst that he r' vo advice on rou-i: ng
and on matters of acting at a i. irly C'dv, need ut«£e in the
rehearo,:ls, and that his influence extended to nir-ke-up ; o well
as to drees - the sailors who bring nous from Hamlet to Horatio
in Act Four Ghoulcl have longer mour.it;;chos, he t.u^v-osts. In ai
intcrviov; published by Life on the morning of the firrt perfora
nee, Go^./in deccriboc! hio I'ocearches in Denmarlc and his
efforts to present
a picture of t.'ic ncople as they lived, v.lth
their lect'ier-b nc^ed le L-"c, their huge T-T; onr^l

155
adornments, bold embroideries, and semi-spherical
or Phrygian her.d rc : **•
(16 October 18C4)
For his services in staging Hamlet, he was paid ninety pounds,
cue! ten shillings for each performance after th > hundredth.
The financial aspect of Godwin's employment vr-e not, of course,
publicized, but his active collaboration and the Life interview
were valuable to Barrett*s campaign to m^ke the Princess's
a competitor of the ^yceum.The articles p_nc! press releases of
Irving*s company nlv/rys seemed to ,;ive the impression that
the actor-mane^er was personally responsible for all aspects
of the ^reduction: Barrett was known to give Godwin considerable
licence - though its full extent was not die-closed. By the same
token, Irving was known to have organised on ensemble about
hi:ASelf, a figure invariably pre-eminent in the Lyceum's
str^c-:>icture a. Barrett had the reputation of being a democratically-minded
manager - at least in comparison with his
riv 1.
ii. The Performance and its Reception.
No working -->ronpt copy of the 1884 Hamlet has come to lirht:
in the Enthoven Collection is a copy of the printed acting
edition, marked by a spectator with some moves and ot.ier notes,
In the account which follows this v/ill be referred to as "the
vi/ori vt-co -\y", adopting Chcrles Shattuck's catholic use of the
term for any methodical record, of a performance.
In his review of Henry Irviiv;;'s ^ilct, in 1074, Clement
ocoot described how the nu ience, having ivaited ell day, sat
v/ith lit le nore thtJi patience t-irsu.-h the opening ocene,"^
Although it revealed something of the production's style
witU the brov;n ancT re- 3 of the sentries' armour - reviev/ors in
I r >r4 pai

Illustration 8
Following p.155
E.W.Godwin,costume design for Francisco

156
good nctor" in modern comedy, was compelled to cencure him
as "very insubstantial" in this part, and suggested he lacked
interest in lie job (25 October). Horatio in Barrett's version
is identified as a scholar by Marcellus ("Thou urt a scholar,
speak to it, Horatio", - omitted by Irving13 ). Like his Lyceum
counterpart, he is relieved of the discussion vith itoruellus
of the -oolitical history of Denmark and Rome in relation to
supernatural visitations (70-125) - a cut which forfeits the
monent of relaxation ("Good now, sit down...") which creates
suspense before the next apparition. Though Crauford does
not seem to hove taken them, the ccene offers the actor playing
Horatio opportunities to establish his coolness and authority:
Barrett's omission of : Drcelluc's speech at 157-164 concerning
Chostc and Chrictnac, rnd liio suggestion,"We do it wrong
bein£ so majestical" (143-6) loaves Horatio as sole purveyor
of information in the scene.
If Crnuford friled to make anything remarkable of Horatio,
John Pewhurst, as the Ghost, mad* all too strong an impression.
Punch ridiculed his size and costume:
Considerable disappointment w s felt ...hen. a
stout spectre wnll:cd on like any other individual,
only a trifle hcrvier, for he wouldn't ride a
pound under fifteen ctone at the least...The
only novelty about this Glioct is liis costu:.ie«
He is attired in a no:i-deocri">t cort of ,-••••: rnt,
contrived out of, apparently, some old ct r
snangled muslin mosquito-curtains, which ou;;ht to
li. vr been sent to the v.Tich, in the tygian laundry
bclov;, loi\r ; ago.
(25 October 1.T4)
Punch observed t!i;:\t the later description of the Ghoct as
cl.'d in com'olotc c-teel and a helraet "only ; hov;c how our
senses Moy be r'eceivoc 1. r/hcrc a Cvho^t ir: concerned", and timt
the blue G-nec-c-"Cleo v/orn by " cv/harct v/ore a touch of realictic
dotril, "re cvrn the early lornin, li/;;it nuct be very trying
to a Uhost'c eyes". Godwin had intinr.ted in 'is Life interview
that olio Ghoct -/oulcl "appear wit.:i-')ut r^ny apparent ground to
ct:"iir on, and ...after a "bine, ^lidc rather thpjn walk along
the -slatform". It arpe- rs that a transprroucy w.'S to be ar^cd,
but t>'',t on the firct ni.riht the effect had to be abandoned, to
the "considerable disappoint'"out" of the ju::ch reviewer, r^--
hurst did not displease all i-'vio-;crn in equ.-l measure - ;:ho
•Tincc (17 October) found ai:n "ponderous but ir.r;}ro, sive" - but

157
hie relative immobility was not very saticff ctory. The lines
"'Tie here! - »Tis here!- »Tis gone* 1* were cut. The omission
take a moment of -ohycicpl crisis from the scene, and lifc«
the loss of "Good now, sit do'./n...'1 , deprives it of its
vnrirtiona in tempo.
iliic static and rather dull beginning WOE followed by
the brilliant and noisy opening of Scene Two. As the clothwent
up, recording to the prompt copy, there was r. shout of
"Lonr; live the Kingl", and Claudius and hie queen appeared
"amid a joyous blare of trumpets and with a brilliant euite
of courtiers" (Scott, in I'he Daily Telereroph, 17 October).
TIic D.-ily Ifov/n found the arrangement "both novel and pi en sing":
...the great hall ;ith its primitive simplicity
of arches nnc1 column, rudely decorated with
coloured drav/ings, its walls hung with arras
painted vvith figures and groups w; s striking...
(17 October)
The courtiers gathered in a semi—circle about rn ivory and
vermilion throne downstage left, and a court-jester sat on
the cteps of the dais . Willard, as Claudius, entered Ira^ii,^;,
"as if he had heard a good joke" (Punch), anr" showed a "triumphant
bearing" which The Stage found a good contrast v;ith his
subsequent growing fear of Hamlet. Both Kin^ and Queen were
"in the pasciour.to hcydr.y of uiddle life" (Scott). A rocond
shout, "Lon:; live the PrinceJ", heralded the orrivr.l of Hr.nlet,
"a istri-J.iJv;, ber.r

en
rt-
SB
rt-
O
VJ1
•O

1-.-F j'-j
Seems, :aadaml riay, it ic; I know not seems.
After the cpoecli he oat uov.n i\ tr; in, rising only to ;:,cknowledge
hi;, mother's plea that he should not return to ittcnberg:
I ch; 11 in 11 my best obey you, , . ';-vi.
The oti .^e interpreted this bear-viour as evidence that .">; ralot
we s "convinced" of 01, udiue's guilt, me), thnt he rcgr-rtfed his
mother "with no filial devotion". ->cott noted thrt ii mlct
held up to Claudius's free a miniature of his father, which
he carried about his neck, in order to insult the usurper, but
did not specify when the insult war delivered. The exchange
was the first indication of ..laffllet 1 s extreme devotion to his
father, and of the lack of "tenderness" in Mr; i ; encanour
towards Ger ': rue e .
The royal party and its retinue left the stage, and
Hamlet began his soliloquy, "0, fchrt is too too solid tcicj
flesh..,",
with Ms gaze attracted in the Direction whither
th© Kin^ and ^uocri h^.d gone, u,/ the so and of laughter
at the -.vorde "That it sVo -Id come to this".
here, also, he produced the medallion of hie
beloved father...
He lo ->

-U9
Sola i i his Illustrated London Hewc. ,-ccomt:
... a very yoan;j man - eager, restless, in-->nlclve,
i-wntuouc, full of loving tmf lovable qualities,
pronpt to forget and forgive, implacable and
ru-c.ilcss only t?\v:,ro3 t»i

accuracy, those Mrh-hoeled satin shoes are surely
out of '.:. ce.
Mary Eastl-ike may, like Elena Modjeska, hc;vo prove ilocl
against Godwin in the matter of h"r oi-.n cor;tu"e. Polonius
is decribed by the same reviewer as y/onrinr a brocade robe,
and this does not correspond to the derirn ./^n^: rk. ,in f s
papers for a ::rey mantle, brown ovor-ro'vn, and red aiu er-'..o\vxi.
It iij possible that the designs were clvx^ed by Cj;v.in or by
. nother, but it is equally ^or.rible that the critic 'o eyes or
iiis memory were at fruit - hir: ntafciiont thrt Ophelia in iiur
interview with Hamlot wor > nink not in accord v.lth the ;silv"rgrey
veil, and yellov/ and pale blue-green of Godwin's costume
sketch. . .hat ever their coatuner,, the performances: of
Ophelic , Laertes and Polonius in this rcene die not elicit
inuch pr^ico. Hie j-ntr'r.i-.te_ found Laertcc, played by Fr, a':
Cooooi-, "h;,rd and sonev/hat affected", and the Cn^ti' M;? Critic
ventured to cutest that his "most terribly diricctic" tone
WG.'^ evidence of a i'r,nily tr;:it in the r:ic.le line of Polonius*
fuiaily. CliiTord Cooler, as Polonius, cut a be"1 ; cr fi^-are
thcui i.icny of hio younger colleaguec, but snoke too quickly
for thu taote of The Entr'acte, though, as the Cr - vious Critic
observed, he £'ave hie -3.:.rt sufficient huniour "to cervc as a
foil bo the more sc.vious ch:..rr.icter:: rt , ..itliout pi vi:v to 'Gho
gallery, Acco.L-^ins to the ;oromt-co"'y, Onliolia's clocin^,: lino
("I sli; -.11 oboy, my ord") va;-; "tearful", but, c c; unu.-'l, tiio
annotc-tor offers no critical comment on tho iiit'-r^prctrtlon,
The i'ii'f.it v:or(. c of the fourt]i occne hold the next , nr ;rir,o
for the audio ice:
The aii- bites cJiro-.vdly. Is it v?ry cold?
Opinions vrriod on the :iov; i^adi-,.;. -'oinc ."ic\:'dos«d it as a
wilful eccentricity - "frivolous" and "rooolciit of c if cc-citi
inthe v/ordc of '''•jju._^l^>r '- c ';:o * Archer v;os :noc]:in.n;:
...such revorenca for the blLUH'0.or_. of .icnin^,
and C^iLlell's y •'O-f.ct-torr; a> lits of no del1 -;: ;e.
•.'ho ro...r T': is uttorl1.^ MO; iiin- less, unlosc Hrr.il et
.v/ichcd Horatio to trlic the rp"dii>:; of tLc
(The _ 2iiljL " 2 Octobc-r)
-^ cor^cc -ondont fred riok (.c^:::;i'e are^ied t^ t although
Darrett h.-d sot the \l-y in Into ; . ' :i:^;» ^ic ila..ilot felt

lol
an unusual chill in the air, which might be attributed to
psychologic.! factors:
Hamlet's own feelings of apprehension and
anxiety have mor to do with his nhysical
sensations of the moment than has any fall
in the temperature which the quicksilver
might chronicle.
(I November)
The notice in The Stage acknowledged the possibility of so
scientific a justification, but suggested that the actor's
general conception of the part did not warrant any uncertainty
in his judgement or mood. If he were a "dreamy, meditative
person", he might ask such a question "in order to convince
himself that he felt no unnaturr 1 chill at the an oroa.ch of
his father's : rliost"j
But Mr Barrett's Hamlet would have been so
thoroughly convinced thrt the air was cold
that he would not have thought of inquiring
of his companions as to whether it was or not.
This is in line with the same reviewer's contention that
Barrett's prince would not have hesitated, after his interview
with the Ghost, but would have killed Claudius at the first
opportunity, "and there would have been no need for the plr.y
to proceed beyond the second act". None of the critics appears
to have taken up Dyce'3 enterprising suggestion that the
Folio's "Is it vary cold?" v/ris intended as a sign of Hamlet's
madness.
The cutting of the scene removed Hamlet's lines on the
implications of the "heavy-headed revel" (17-38) and the last
five lines, which include Uarcellua's remark, "Something is
rotten in the state of Donnarl:". The effect of tlio d- lotions,
and of For';in'bras's absence from the plr.y, in person and rcnort,
was to isolate the personal drama from its piiblic sc-jtin^.
neither B&rrett nor Irving showed any intore t in the v/iclor
politic;! implications of the affairs of the Danish royal
family.
I'ewhur-t, as the Ghost, had not made a fr-voamble innraction
with hie silent a-opearnnce ia the fir^t scone: hi a voice
now proved as unsatisfactory as his & iort ^;t. I'o tlic Captious
Critic it sounded "meek, feeble, and altogether a i. re, ,.ive",
and Cl TiT-nt Scott described the incon.-ruour: efl'ect of "P very

162
unusual mincing manner" combined with "the most • clicate of
affected voices". Punch thought his tone too colloquial -
"more friendly than formidable" -
in fact, quite a Ghost to whom you would offer
a pair of clippers, and then ask him to chr.t
cosily and tell you all about it, over a pipe
and a glass of very hot grog, before a cheerful
fire.
Yardley*s burlesque, Very Little Hamlet, had the Ghost sit darn
and riiat amiably, but recent productions by Dr Jonathan Miller
have shown that the Ghost's citting down and ^dressing Hamlet
?0
with some intimacy can be more unnerving than amusing .
Barrett fell to the ground at the Ghoct'e suggestion
that Gertrude had been won to Claudius* "shameful lust" (45-6),
and The Daily Nowo thought this the first stage in Hamlet's
pi
mentcl decline ~. The reviewer, aligning himself with "the
later school of German critics", took Hamlet to b© a sensitive
and intelligent young man whose indecision was a aign of
immaturity. His affections lying predominantly v.ith his father,
he had turned now to his mother, "only to find her the ifc
of the uncle he detested, and finally to learn th© awful story
of her cin and shame". The next blow would be his discovery
that Opheli was an instrument of Claudius. This extreme
reaction to the intimation of Gertrude's fclrity was a rjign
that a certain intemperance of disposition was turning to
hysteria. Hamlet's a; iifl had bcon on his cworo when he vov;cd
to sweep to his revenge (31) - like noct of hie predecessors
he took the line "0 "Jo.-rible! 0 horrible] Jot-t horriblej" (00).
His soliloquy after the Ghost's e. it ("0 all you host of
heaven...") was spoken in "an hysterical noniicr" (Jlao Tines).
According to the prompt-copy his behaviour v.uth Horatio and
[larceilUB continued this hyctcria: after "There's ne'er a
villain dwelling in nil Lcnnrrk" he paused, looked at the two
men, and chancing his tone from the "earnest purpose" of the
first phrase, adc'ed "But he's an arrant lor-ve". C'liis was
regarded by The Tincc, as the first ; i,:\n of Hamlet's antic
disposition. The innacrjioned acting of Barrett in thic scene,
serving to cr.trblish a frenzied dic^ist underlying tiic chp.rrcter's
acsun-'tion of nadness, v;ao unfortunately ov r-emphasisor
by itc; contract with t'cic blandness of C^u fore! . c Horatio. '&*.

'
Captious Critic found him incongruous and amusing, His "Heaven
secure him" (114) bcin/; uttered ith a "pi: cicl indifference
as to whether cuch a result may or may not be arrived at".
Lilre Irvinc, Barrett had cut from the Ghost's speech
the graphic description of the "vile and lo. tiicome crust",
but, unlike Irving, had let stand the line "Unhouseled, disappointed,
unanelecl." (6< -73»77). Irving had included the six
lines beginning "0 Hamlet, what a falling off was thereJ" (47-
52) in his published i.ctinc c ition, but removed them in his
1G78 prompt book
22
. Both Bcirrott and Irving removed 53-7: the
reflection th;. t virtuo is immoveable, but lust will r;atc
itself on a celestial bed and turn to garbage. In some lines
Barrett repeated words - "yes, by Heaven" became "yes, yes,
by Heaven", and "My tobies, meet it is I set it down" was
altered to "My tables, my t;-bl

Io4
and was follo\ved by Polonius, but no other business of any
interest was observed.
Barrett's second scene opened v;ith Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern kneeling, one on each side of Cl>-.utfiuc ( a-oimtcopy).
It ran continuously through the original 11,2 and 111,1,
from the arrival of the two friends, end Poloniuo's conference
with the Kin,"- • ".rid Queen, to Hamlet »s teasin/-; of the old nan,
his conversation /.ith Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and the
arrival of the Players. Rather than stop after the "Rogue and
peasant slave" soliloquy, as Irving and most others hrd done,
Barrett parsed immediately to the scene vith Ophelia, ending
tha • ct vdth Claudius's "Madness in great ones uust not unvratched
go". Clement ^cott praised the new ord- r, which o''ve
a sufficient lapse of time for the supposed preparation of
The uruer of Ganzago, but observed that Barrett seemed tired
by the furious pace he adopted.
The moot importr.nt passages in the elongated second act
were Hamlet's soliloquy, "To be, or not to be", and his confrontation
with Ophelia. The soliloquy was Delivered in a
uanncr which Scott praised as a "noble example of untricky
declamation" - Barrett leaned against a fr ble v;ith his , r:i,;
folded, t?.s an illustration in The_ Jj-lustroted Lonfipn ilexvs
reveals. The soliloquies convoyed, it soomc, a calmness and
deliberation ..liocinp in his conversations r.ith other chcr; cters.
For t.ic Polonius scene (II.2.167 etc) the prompt-copy . ivcs
minute directions whos.e tenor is "all conversations v/ith Pol.
Hysterical style". Hamlet's response to Polonias's initi; 1
enquiry, "vVell, O'ocl-c-..icrcy", is i^olnon "snappishly" c..o he
"throwe. hir::self on a couch", ano his v-ish c^i-t Polonius were
"so ho., cst a man" as a fiohraonacr is sarcastic in tone. "For
if tlic ,.un breed ma^ots..." is read, from a book held by Hamlet,
v.iiilo Polonius "creeps round & peers ovr-r Hamlet's shoulder at
the book. H .mlet "shuts it up shrrply" and a^!:;, "Hi vc you a
daughter?". His next r.pocch is hysterical, ai.r \:ith "31. nders,
sir" he "f;l .noes at bool: nov/ & tlion as ii1 re;-'ciing' v .
This madness is evidently noro Gri,r^etic tlian melancholic.
Rosencr.- ntz and thill', ens tern speak "frvminrly", anc Hoialet
imitates then v/ith "f.Ty excellent good friends", eyeing them
suspiciously throu -;liout the scene, and catching then :.:. J:ing

signals to each, other surropticiouLly at "Nay then, I have on
eye of you" (^9). The Stage found Rosencrantz "too villainous
in appearance" and hio fellow "too cleric;*! in manner". The
Athenaeum noted tli-t Hamlet's detection of the frr.'.ud rcnovod
doubt from his nine1 it too early a ?tage in th^ scone, and
felt this to bo yet anothar manifestation of an interpretation
, iiich rejected the "reflective Inmlet" for "a Hamlet v.'ho is
a man of action", This it could not readily accept (25 October).
At Guidenst era's c"ii.,ij,;io:i, "i'.ly lord, v/o were sent for" the
prompt-copy no^es "Express by gesture",'! know as inucL.'".
Af t r another "hysterical" confrontation between Polonius and
and Hamlet, tiio Pl.iyora arrived,
i'iio PHuyor Queen, Miss Dickens, v/;:>,s on iior firct ;::p:;o' r-
ance dressed os a boy (cm innovation welcomed by i':io horning
Post ) , and Speakman's performance as Pirat Player elicited
son praise - his elocution and acting v/oro, to the nincl of
The Stage's critic, "perfect", ^cott considerec1 his pi: ying
next in distinction to th: t of Barrett, '.villnrd and George
Barrstt, who played First Grovedigger. Wedmore, in !7ho Acr'(io^y,
thought his best ofl'ect vvaa nchiovecl in the docript-ion of the
hush before the c-tam:
A silence in the hsavons, the rr-ck sto.nd still,
The bold wind a specchlecc, and the orb below
As h'ash as oeatu... (477-430)
iHvciity-four linos v;oi-c cut from the First ^-".TOI-'G rjp^e
Irving !io.d cut twenty-eight in airj prompt book. Ac tho First
Player ivas about to leave tho ctr,GG, .Icinilct made "a secret
sign to deb in liin" p.j.id t ! rov; the curtains hr.,-j./--in i'- betv;cen the
pillars of the r.rciicc. Before his soliloquy, at "'.iow I am alone",
he cloLou. all the curt '".ins, and looked .-rranc! with uoao relief
(prompt-co v,0. 'xlie cpcccli ao^ed from cmrcr (fo^tio, l.io marl-.in^s
in the prompt-copy at "Am I a cov;,?rcl? w and "kindle -s vill; in")
to exli,:ustion ("Fie upon'tj fo-ii"). The prompt-copy ,.u;;:;cstG
a distinct natur p licm in Brrrctt's demeanour: "I'll hrvo these
^l"yers/Plry aonetliin^ li':o tlio nurd or of .iy iv.tlicr/.'Oofore
.iino uncl " v; 'O iol:cn, ac a "sudd on thou ; lit strikes liira 15^
c n--c! r-.aCc a ;.;ti'ontj curtain of this speech, rishiiir-- to

166
a pillar, setting his tables against it and writiu: furiously
as the curtain fell. Barrett does not appear to have made any
OA
especi; il "point "^.
The Scene continued with the entrance of Claudius, Gertrude,
Polonius, Ophelia and the two fellow-stu-onts: Barrett left in
Claudius's guilty reflection, "0, 'tis too true/Hov/ smart a
lash that speech doth give my conscience..." (49-54) - lines
omit-,ed in Irving's version, but important in the presentation
of Claudius. In the scene with Ophelia, Barrett begin gently.
At MHa,Hr I Are you honest?" a note in the prompt-copy suggests
tho )oint at which his demeanour towards her loot it;j toaclcrness.
Hamlet turned uo-ctage after her lines:
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
There, my lord*
(101-2)
He came down again, and wao about to speak "tenderly" wh.cn he
caugiit sir/ht of Claudius behind tho a mo and rushed out
"savagely". He did not see Polonius, but continued to walk
up and aov.n, bursting out "cr.-rily and passionately" at "Go
thy ways" (130). lie caught sicht of Poloniuc at "hero's
your father?", anC, after a aud^. n and prolon^oc1 pause, put
his h.ind on Ophelia's herd and turned it round, bringing her
face to face v/ith him. In the line "Those that re married
already", Barrctt pointed to Clay/liuo's hif'itv: place with the
words "all but one". This was, in the opinion of Tho_ j'ornin;;
Poet, one of Barrett's best scenes, in .hie 1 ; he "took n strong
hold inon the : uclionco". Hie Irck of tenderness towards
Ophelia seemed unusual to The St r ;:o, and "'ho .'thonaoum thought
his very definite detection of the ±a ;octurG yet o,nother
int-rprstntion 'To tractive of the p a^*'s myctcriouc qualities.
The Dcily ; .?•- c anrccir-ted the scene c-.c a farther ctr.ge in
Hamlet's ^rovjing sense of isolation, as he realizes thot,
after Gertruce's fall, "Ophclir, in li^o manu.r, seems to
have forsaken :in, and lo.cu^d v:it-i spies cnc: enemies against
him". The "seeming duplicity" of Onhclir - "nothinc more tlrui
a weak ano blino obcc'i:::ice to her f.ithcr'a '..111 11 - was seen
by The Ir.ioc as the force checking Hamlet's natur 1 feelings
towards her. The acting of the scene v( -3 ge .v L--lly v.'cll-recoived,

167
and would appear, from the prompt-copy 1 a notes, to have been
simply and effectively conceived - "even old pi; ygoers, "wrote
Scott, "must have trembled behind their convictions", co
thoroughly had Barrett "br; ,ced up tho nervee of the audience
and communicated to them hie own electricity". The danger
lay in the actor's exhausting himself and his ;>Ui ience by so
energetic and sustained & ppce.
The first scene of Barrett »s third oct (ill. 2 of the
original) was a front scene!, and began with a "Proceocion
of attendants &c v/ith torches on their way to see the play"
(promnt-copy). The Times cV scribed Hamlet's manner with the
players as "respectful and even deprecatory":
he roes not hurl his maxims at the tragedian's
or rumble them from the ctopths of his th.vjat,
but submits them v;ith the diffidence of an amateur.
At "Get you a place" (89) the scene changed to c.notaor p; rt of
the castle . : ounds, whore the -plr.y was to be performed. Godwin
described the arrangements in his Life interview, justifying
the outdoor setting in terms of the Danish climate and the
play's tinc-rj-i; n (between sirinc .and autumn, he thought). The
scene bore some resemblance to the Pastoral Players' theatre
at Coombe, exceot that performances there he cl not u; od a
raided platform. In the interview Godwin fave the following
account of the scene in Hamlet ;
There io a garden portal, end the curtain is hung
between the tv/o trees, v/?iore there is a little rjto^e
up three steps. The v/hole court r.rc r^iiread round
the garden, the ladies h^vin. ; ferns, PS well as
her.d-cloths vrcrnecl around then to protect their
throats. There v/ill be plenty of torches, ?nd a
reflection of the moon on the sea.
The Times, after point inr out the cr;v rtic effectiveness of
Hamlet's presenting the rlr.y in the very orc'h rd where the
crinc h; a been conrait'ced, ; ercribed f irt.icr ac'v; nta^es of the
new c.t: riii^:
Spectacul.'.rly at all events the change ±z a v st
inr^rovo^iont u^on \vhnt has c-.li.r.ys been a conewhrit
absurd scene when re rc.,entecl indoors, i'ro- 1 the
necessity of ran^inc the King and Queen an

the whole depth of the scene can be utilized.
A temporary platform for the players is erected
between a couple of trees v;ith a curtrin t'rcwn
across; and the whole scene, lighted up with
torches, which compete with a lovely aoonlight,
forms a picturesque court pr ;::ecuit. The King md
Queen r;it, not upon c throne, but ur>on a rustic
bench, as do also Ophelia and Hamlet.
Hamlet was thus "reliaved from the odious necessity of
grovelling upon his stomach" in order to cross the stage and
shout in Claudius's fr--.ce "He poisons him i'th 1 garden for's
estate" (255). Scott felt that Hamlet and Ophelia had been
placed too far upct: ge - the Prince retired into the background
"instead of sprawling on the floor" - but was -nleased
by the jtrange but not unwelcome contrast to the stereotyped
regularity of the celebrated picture by Maclice". Irving had
retained the traditional arrangement, with the King and Queen
to one cide, and Hamlet and Ophelia to the other of c snail
stage, ;-'.n

109
"paddock" (Theoualrl*s emendation), and after the hysterical
"impromptus" (to which The Stage referred, mysteriously, as
Barrett's "only point") Hrmlet sank into Horatio's arms 26 .
"You might have rhymed" was cut - Irving had ellowed Horatio
this touch of humorous detachment, but Barrett felt the need
to preserve a aerious tone.
In the business with the recorders, Barrett f s Hamlet
was at his most suave, restraining his impatience in order
to "quietly rebuke" Rosencrantz and Guildenstern with the
pipe, which, The Ti^.es remarkod, some tragedians were "accustomed
to snap in two in an uncontrollable fury". Booth and
Irving both took the pipe, snapped it, and flung the pieces
from them. Barrett, when oummoned to speak v;ith uertrude,
left the stage cautiously, looking round him in the shadows,
and then, in the porch through v/hich he rauut pass, whipping oiit
his sv/ord and stabbing at the darkness.
The third ocone of the act bec-'-n with Claudius's brief
instructions to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and Polonius's
news that Hamlet is going to his mother's closet, and will
be overheard. Rosencrantz's lecture on politics ("The single
and peculiar life is bound..*") vras omitted, but the scene
was much longer than that given by Irving, v/ho had cut Polonius's
appearance, Hamlet's arrive:! during Claudius's prayer, and
a good pert of the King's speech.
?P
At the '-rincesB's,Polonius's
departure was followed by Claudius drav/ing asit'e a
curtain to reveal a cnrll altar (prompt-copy). Punch mocked
"a brilliant coverlet and a gaudily painted cr.ico" in thic
oratory - evidently a further example of Godwin's volley of
using bri •.•.rbl.y coloured properties and hangings against a
dr.rk background, ./illard, given a chance to aovelop Claudius'c
character usually denied the rotor, spoke hie :oliloquy
"admirably" - as Scott described it. Gocwin's rehearsal notos
include "cJ-,3cch by kneeling king too ^ao;. ion .to and too
jerky".
The scene nov; changed to Gertrude'c car nbor - "Grs c!o-.vn",
as the pronnt-copy remind, us. Bavrctt urjocl III.4, followed
without change of location by IV.1 and 3. He onitted IV.2 and
4. Irving had onittod IV.1 - Claudius and Gertrude - and
everything before IV.5, v/liich began hie fourth ret.

1/0
The oet for the ocono wuo, God«.ia cl; iirod, "very
..•ith a minted tu t >eotry hun. : between the plllt ro of «',;
and un ivory diptych to holt,: the portrait of Clr u-;,t',ce f
"ao as to be out of the v^y of the Ghoct", and ,--;un«J the
aanaftoncnt of the sequence "ineffective". .,cott Ceocribed
Hamlet, hie father* a 'ortiv.it in miniature ^e, 4y on its cord
at hio neck, entering to find Gertrude, "yet a lovely
tiring herself before the .-nprooch of her lord". The
copy rentirka -'wTiecn very incJif-ncnt t,t Tirit", ana, according
to cicott, Hamlet v;;,a fiercely upbraiding hio nother for "her
'>, rti- l^ity for t/i-.t oane imtctl uncle ! 't v/licn hio h.ind " -,ccidentnll'
' foil upon a rortri it of t'.ic King*1 resting on her
's
Jeising ap the cabinet victare which ie ct hand
he camp re;, it witu the locLot cm': cn-.iG by s,t --r
it under hie feet in a tcn>est of r o»
Of the rV'il.-'ble altornativoc v.t oliiu junct-irc, Ir-via.-' hau
chosen to ro :reoent the t.,o yjortruito so fi. -:.--titr. of Hamlet *o
/fcri'ttt; took the matcri r :.l ^.--c coat; t ion of -;;:\c
to itc extrcnc, and c. ai;cd ccriou:.' doubt :xaon^*nt t5:e
critico. ^;.- ^.4:-.:/;c; felt thr-'t the now Ilanlot overbore hir:
nothor ri ,-ly Hby force of luiif", and tli. -t the violence of his
behrviour deprived tho •: ccno of the el.ur.dvc but auch-cocired
tonderneen. A r-o viewer of l-v^c^.-'s ':.ar.alct, ci:i ycri^c. later,
--CT.O ?borod BarrotVo rt'n^div: on Claa^iiu^o ii^'.ro as "cf-''cct;.ve
but rcther cl-p trc,- -7" C_.j ^. t.-c . .? Jj.c-c, 1-30 (1« 91) p. ^5).
7he Cap-Jii DUC Oritic r-otod t!;.0.* the C;uor:i rocc to the .^ccccion
by ,.obVrv "hurriW.y", and felt thct it i;u."t bo 'Uicn: fo-t,ble"
for i'iso Lei^htoii to "evolve thoee c^ar-ao^ic ra^tc". j^^JTir;/^
racntiv:. t k-jfO nail r, v;ho at tho berr.minc of t.ie cccno v;cro
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172
including, in ,the first act, the Ghost's ck:; ;crlption of the
unpleasant effects of the poison on his "smooth body" (1.5.
68-73).
It seems deer that Victorian readerc and audiences
regarded the scene, not as t:io display of subconscious
obsessions and complexes which poot-Preudions find in its
imagery, but an example of moral o^rnostnecc. Prank Marshall
emphasised this in his >f .:;udy of llf.mlot (1875):
Never was a nobler sermon preached thr>n ir,
embodied in these speeches; they are instinct •..1th
the truest and rarest mo --.lity that knows of no
compromise v;ith r>vil.
lie ; drrarcc the uncompromir ing simplicity of the sentin^nts,
comparable to "those sacred '.vords, 'Go, and sin no more 1 ." (p53)
As an example of ths lengths to \/hich this stern moral
attitude mi^ht be to/cen in performance, Fechter's business
may serve:
"hen, at the close of their interview, Gertrude
out;:-oretched her arm, and would embrace h

173
After learning of Polonius's murder, he summoned Kosencrantz
aiicl Guildenstern and sent them to find Hamlet. Thirteen lines
wt ,*e cut from the scene, including 17-23 which refer to "the
owner of a foul disease". Five lines were cut from the end of
the scene, and the Kin 'c npeoch continued v.'ith IV. 3. 2 (IV. 2
being omitted,) From thic speech Barrett cut four lines:
...to bear all smooth and even,
This sudd«n ponding him away must seem
Deliberate pause. Diseases desperate arov;n
By desperate rrinliance are relieved,
(7b-10)
The conclusion of the speech became:
And where 'tis GO, ';h* of fender's ccourge is weighed
But nearer the offc-xce
Or not ct 1.1,
iianlct's lines concerning the progress of a King through tlic
guts of a bcc.T'r were dolrtecl (22-31) » but at "seek him i'th'
other place yourself, 'Icnlct answered the Kin,;; fiercely "as
if to provoke him to a quarrel", Claudius's fir;,-1; .-caction was
to advance on Hamlet, but he evidently thou lit .••-.In, ant"
sensed that it v.oulc! be more prudent to be quiet ( >rompt-co;jy) .
villi rci's acting in thia scone made a strong impression on
the critics - Scott wrote that he "was a >ian of flosh and
blood, obviously c c voted to liis hel :;:.i: to and concoalinc all
through his norvoua a.pproiion:jion of Ii;xilct", ?"'i-' Ti:.ur: observed
that tho splendour of tlic p.-lace cettinc contrnrsted tellingly
vvitn Hriialet'o broj'Ji.v: cnger, and 01 uOiuc'c .:a:_riety, Tho
speed of thia sequence, anc Orrrott's .al'o ;.;i:," ill r'"1 to
one. tnc act (.-t 67, "And thou nuet care mo" - uot ,ith tho
couplet) helped to intensify the ii.rpro:.::ion of "a raan of action
"ironpt rnd docicive" sh-dinr at ti.'ics i.r'jo what t;u Captious
Critic called a "i\;

174
Barrett ivin,r; some of the linos to Horctio, come bo Gertrude.
In Irving'r version ."arcr-ijnr. v/ne riven an unrccountable
prominence in the Danish court, mid tho ;; cene opened:
I '//ill not speak v ith her.
'"y re oil us
She ic irrnortan te, indeed die tract,
•:cr mood will needs be pitied.
»Twere good Bi , r ,ere r-poicen with, for she may strew
.iViTxroac conjectures in ill-breedin"- nirdr;.
(1-3, 14-5)
The information of the first lines befits : rrcellus, but the
politic confidential tone of the 1: ct two is more appropriate
to Horatio. Barrett £;; ve 14-5 to the Queen, but L Hotted to
Horatio mo_t of the description of Oldie's madneac which
Irving ia-d omitted ("She spooky much of her f, tii'.-r. ..")
iiss Hr.stloke made vv.h t secaed to the nnr.otrtor of the
^ronpt-co^y a "striking entry" by "cuc.t only :ullin^; aside"
the centre cu.rt~.inc. Her cting apnec.rc to hcvo im roved P.E the
fir.'t ni -it pro :-;re. sod, and the Cr.ntioiic. Critic, ho c.o cruelly
listed lirr f^ultn in the r.cene v;ith Laertes c.nc! Poloiiiuc,
acknov/lef^cd a "to— i'or, -,;in. -Ing p: : tlioc hr:rd to be excellecl".
By skilful dcr-iction of do'"er.tir. she rnc.n- /red to "excite
throughout a cenee of tender -:ity ra j: :~/\r •'•hr.n horror". ''^^
>Ltj • r.c rcr-' rlrcd favourcbly u -on hor "intcn: it" r.nc1 pc.tlioc' 1 ,
rncl .icott obsc'rrci" th t the irjv.irc:. ;:ion nic'ce upon the rudieface
"f ve to the octrero r. very cheering oncoarnreneiat". Pron the
"iroi.r't-ccoy, one ^ethers that :'ico Eactl: he poi^-ucd v:hcn rho
o.'.iid ''IJ.':iy, pi' y you r:. ric" (28) and . iauc'c'orcd o,t tlic \'orc : c "I 1
th' cold : -round" (68). She cluiOdcred. . ;•; in v/lien ^ho c.'-.u.-n.t
ci. ht of Cl udiUBj r iir -.Urrr-J.-: from hin i;it':i the cocci: v.rtion
"It is tiic i l.-e r.t,-v;c-rc: f th"t ot )lc hie maker's d u- liter",
uovin -oo Li crtes for -.irot :ction. "There's c. dc : r:y" (179) v.T'f.
c1. "r.urdcn o::cl -.:--tion rs if rurprirjcd r.nd -lrd to per t l\o
f.'.o.;cr", cine du-.-in/- tlie onf: "For bonny r-v/ent R->hin ir rll ry
joy" she scattered fl •. ero u ion the floor, subsequently nic--
ing t:icn art. None of tieie details scorin incorirruc--..

; cl:ed u vt.'co t •.v;r.rc1 c a curtz :.r,, suedonly touched : ;;: in:/c
it, started, emitted a hyat ric. 1 shriek, o.nd fled.
By v.xy of contrast, Lc.ertee was understated. To Punch
do "Too much of water host t_iou, poor 0 >h:lir»" seemed a
"heertleac, unfeeling jest" from a "monotonous, uncynr:r>thotic
lirlvt comedian", v'lo Jt.~ ;;e found Prank Cooper's performance
"uni orccsivo and colourless", .ill; rd's ; ctin^; in the cequence
concerning the 'lot against Hamlet V/CE, to Clement Scott, "of
remarkable interest", but he fid not reccribe its folicitioc
in any Ootri; . Barrctt :T: in :';;rve Cl'-uciuc inorc lines thrn
Irvinr linC. cone: in the sequence of scenes making up ,:ic
fourth : ct (IV.5-7) ";r?.rrctt cut one imacTr-eoi and ei-^t lines,
Irvinc tv:> Iir ic-.rcd and seventy-five. Barrett uoed loritio's
scene . itl; ti:e co.ilore (IV.6, dice; re 1 ed by Irvin,.^) r.nd restored
mOLt of Cl^.udiuo'o conference witn Lo,r ice. Irvinc'tj! ^ror.i~/iboo
1 : chov/o th- t he"" cut a furt;-

176
...
Laertes, I muc£ commune with your
Or you < eny me right. Go but apart,
f/Iake choice of whom your wisest friends you v.ill,
And they shall hear and judge f twixt ;/ou and me.
If by direct or by collateral hand
They find us touched, w« will our Irin.-xlo^ /;ive,
Our crown, our life, and. -11 th; t we c: 11 ours,
To you in satisfaction.
(IV.5.197-205)
Then followed the arriv 1 of the me a center (IV. 7.36) and ,• 11
but four lines of the dialogue cxnli'inirie -;, LCH, concluding
with ",,ill you be ruled by me?" (36-7, 41b-57a, 59 etc.).
Irving's eta^e-prac ice ap ~>Qi rs to h:~vo involved the omission
not only of information vital to the understanding of Claudius s
relationship ;lt L Laertes, but of the news of Hamlet's return.
It is an extraordinary mistake, but its presence in norc than
one prompt-book of the Lyceum production sur; csts that it was
found cceptable . Barrctt re; tored the whole of IV.6, and
a good doal of the next scene. Claudius explained his dependence
upon Gertrude ("She is so conjunctive to ny life and coul
... M ), and the messenger arrived \/ith the lot-ore. ::ct of
the description of Lamo&d was jrdtted, but the essentials of
uncrtec. 1 3 arrcenent to co-^^or."tc rour.inod. Irving cut ten linos
from the description of Ophelia•c ceath, and omitted Laertes's
immediate reaction. Barrott still baulked at the alternative
names for lomg uinleG, but cut only four lines in all, and
allowed Laertes hie feeliii,,3. Both voroionc dice, reed the
oi:?.

177
spade and lade ?r, evidently for use in thic scene. George
Barrett, as first gravedigger, won considerable praise -
typical of the oritice* response is Scott's comoient that he
gave "a true bit of hu-aoroue acting divested of all traditional
nonsense and time-worn gag". The prompt-copy liutc a
number of realistic details, none of them outstandingly
inventive, but evidence of & v/ell-judged performance. At
"fetch me a stoop of liquor" he got into the grave, spat on
his hands, and beean to dig; < uring the first veroo of his
song he uced a pick-axe, during the second a sp;,de. In the
second verse he paused after "But ,-if e, with his stealing cteps",
unearthed a skull at "Hath caught me in his clutch"; then he
brought it clown-stage (how far is not specified) and hit it
with the spade. The business was repeated in the third verse,
with the words "a s ->ade, a spade", the rr:'vodigger ;runted
as he dug. His answer to Hamlet's query - "mine,sir" - was
given "snappishly as if annoyed to be interrupted", and
Yorick's , kull v; c taken up "professionally and appreciatively".
George Barrett seems to have conveyed the man't pleasure in
his business.
Hamlet wore a rod-lined cloak, and rcclin*d at the foot
of a stone, Saxon cross to cr>e.-.k to the gr-avedig/TcrJ
31
. Apart
from the prompt-copy's note tlic.t he seemed p.raost afraid to
take Yorick's skull in his hand, and was annoyed by the smell,
little of the business was recorded. The Cr.ptiouu; Critic
thought that Barrett lectured the skull "like a professor of
anatoiiy". It is iiitore tine that the actor should convey in
pantomime Hamlet's dic^-uct at the cmoll of the .kull, although
the line "And cnclt so? pchj" wrro onitted(as was Hamlet's
declaration thnt hie £;or~c rices, and the cravcdi^-cr's
professional reflection on the l;.rge number of pocky corpses
cent for burial). Other omic,vionc v/ere E?.jnlet's cpecul.v.tions
about the courtier and the great buyer of land (82-7, "Or
of a courtier.. ,6Ji wo hid the trick GO &ee 't", and. 101-113,
"Thic; fellow.. .seek out ac, ur

178
removal was essential to Barrett f s presentation of a young
Hamlet, and caused co:ne controversy as to what libertiec
might be token with the text. The accusation was not that of
cutting linea (after all, no-one expected to hear the whole
play) but of ignoring evidence devisod by the playwright to
clarify the character's nature and outlook.
; 'ore interesting than the display of »/ould-be pedantry
or the port of the journalists were Clement Scott«c consents
on the setting of the graveyard scene. He objected to "fir
trees and Scandinavian gloom,... temples, and mausoleums, and
scattered crosses", and maintained thot Shakespeare had
conceived the scene as an English churchyard, picturesquely
beautiful and veil-Wanted with flowersj
No jour;icys to Denmark, no f, ithful copies of
Dani.-n churchen or graveyards, no ugly reproductions
of what is foreign to the mind or
underctnnding will ever take the imagination
away from tho scene that Shakespeare loved and
so faithfully painted.
Scott uid not reveal his warrant for the a:. aunv> oion that
Shake ;:p care "painted" any such ccene: the grave., ;.rd ic at no
point described, and the only flov.ers mentioned in the text
are the violets th t Laertes hopes will spring from Ophelia's
"fair and unpolluted flesh". The form taken by acot'u's c!i:,trste
for Godwin's efforts - a bland, sentiuontr:! ;-:cnop.l iobir». -
anticipates that of his attacks upon Ibsen, whose Ghoot.a
"mi ;ht have been a trrge.'y had it been treated by a cnius"
as on-nosed to the Scandinavian "egotist and.. .bungler" (±ILQ_
Daily Telegraph, .U Mar h 1891) 32 . Scott, tocetlie.r v.dt:: a
number of other reviewers, :;.vc the impression th.it the
production's preci^io^ of detail v;ac an affront to a traditional
and ro;.r,ntic vr:.giiericss. In the notice wliich npno^rod
in The Morning Port it wiis accerted tliot "r. certain rir of
realism" Ci; tin ;uir;:ied the production, and tiiat the "goner,"!
rendering" ;vns "r.tril^iif: and impressive rather tli n poetical".
This kind of criticism ic often net with ±? notices of mr-jor
ShakeFpearc n pro actions during the ei.^itcen-ei; htieo, and
it m,fht seem to be related to the A?f;th:.tic rejection of
detail and "finish" i.a pc i. tiiv:. Its true narout, however, is
surely the conservative reaction ciri;ui:>:t Pro-^.phaclitian thr t

179
was current in the years of the Brotherhood. Scott and the
other critics who objected to the .vork of Godwin and v/ingfield
conceived of Shake pe"-:"• 's p'.'.aya in terms of a grand, idealised
aanner, sweeping and romantic in its pictorial effects*
Scott, as was noted in the prseeding chapter, admired Irving'c
Faust for the approximation of its scenes to Bore's "weird
fancy" and John Martin's "splendid daring and invention".
Irving's stage effects and his cli, r r>cteriaations were often
gloomy and melancholic, but Barrett had set the nlay in specific
and detailed surroundings, and played the part in a briskly
intelligent manner. Scott's dica, iroval of the graveyard act
appears, by its extreme reaction, to carry the w.dght of his
romantic prejudices.
There were few alterations to the text in the Icttar part
of the scene, and little business of any note. Hmalot uic not
invite Laertes to match him in fasting, drinking eisel, or
eating a crocodile, "Grants" - the Quarto re,

130
Like the ~>lry-acene f the final scene of the Princess's
production took place in the grounds of the castle. It moved
quickly to its climax, outti ig by half the exchange between
Hamlet and Laertec, and losing in the process Laertes's canny
reminder that their present reconciliation ir, only a temporary
truce (238-242), Iraniet tried his foil anxiously ~,t
"Your Gr ce hath laid the odds o 1 the weaker ci ie" (promptcroy).
Tlio "Daily Nc-.7c admired the "singular spirit" of the
fancing, and the "ingenious dexterity" of the momentary disarming
of Laertes, which resulted in the exch-inge of weapons.
Other reviewers were not co well satisfied, raonr them The
Entr'acte and Punch. The letter grve a facetiour. account of
the sequence:
The ,j tabbing the King w r -s absurd, as the unhappy
•rinncr waited for Hamlet to come and kill him,
and then, though Hamlet only parsed his sword
palpably outside his body, where the rapirr showed
in ;.,tr

11
Laciec and C-c: blcmon, - I would nuch rothor have
nr.Cc no opeccl. to-night, for my h/:.rt it a little
too full. I v.ill tell you a little otory, -aiou^i,
v;hich nay pLi"h,..pc 'o ;IE well.
(The Daily Hows)
He went on to de: cribe how, 03 a boy, he had spent hie lent
sixpence by £oiiii_. to the gallery of the old Princess*o ?.:>oGtrc
to s«e~Charles Koan play ik.ralct. On coming out, he had . orn
that the time should coine when he would bo manager of tlic
t'lcj.tre, and would play r Tonlet upon its rjt;'£-e» Thanks to the
sympathetic c,u-->ort of his audiences, he hod now fulfilled
that oath.
It need not hove surprised Barrett that roro critics
seised on his speech and rno.de fun of it. The professionally
facetious >: -n. rr: t particularly Punch and The Illustrated
Sporting ar.C rr^aatic Hows, were cruel in their mockery, and.
two burlesquec used the story. Yardley'c Very Lit :le Hamle.t
opened v;ith a ecene in v;hich Hollie Forren as the young
jjri'rott, v/.is throivn out of the olc' Princess's, and A Fireside
H>_ule_tt by Coinyn;: Carr, der.lt v.ith the probl':m;_- of liick, a
"ookor v/hoce tocte for playgoing had /-oner- ted an cmbition to
introduce t^'\ ecly into rorl lifs. r.Irry, hie proc^octive f
rcmo;, :ti-:ted uith liim, pointing out that "it's '11 very v/cll
for Lir Brrrott to be aicLincholj1111 , but there in nothing in
Cu.iii;ion bet !.vc-n thorn. "Hot oo 'r::ty", replied Dick,
T'.vonty-five ycarc n^o whr.t wo.s ho? ''.'hy, r boy, anc:
vvhot ic he now? .vliy, Hamlet, anc 1 "j.r.rk Iiic career.
He liked melodrama 0-:cc and enjoyed :ii ,nclf in n
low vulgar wry Juot r.c I ('id, but he rin't :' roing
to -olr-- r no ;iorc melocrrmr.s. :io's taken to tro./'ccy,
and co '^ve I-o/
Dick cl: inied to have "p. o.ntic Oicposition on", end vhcn
offered brool:f:;ct replied:
Go thj' r.-oyo. Or-con deli, lits me not, no, nor o^'-c
neitlK r for the nntter o'thr.t.
His ide; of tr-j-ody extonfod lit.le further tlirn a : a,"ii to
abolish tli'.; Ilou:.,e of Lor

he had "left the -:i iirit .. do it jacticc:
Of '.:ir V/ii: on Barrett'c Hamlr.t v/h;*t cnn be .. id
except th^t it is eminently reapcctcb"'' ? He hnn
v/oighcd every word, goLture and inflexion of the
pc'.rt.
Altiiou n otacrr: accuc d Barrett of melo'.-r. i.v tic excesses -
i'iio -iitr*. etc. cl..:ir:ied that he raouthed and nmted "like the
most a.-. TLV ted type of ':-;jt-End r'jici transpontine heavy villain"
- Archer found no cuc'.i lapses. Despite a "manly" be;-ring and
"G.-•If-rcc.trained" manner, it could not be denied that the
tK;r.L'or!ir iice lacked a qu: lity e^centic 1! to cuccess in the role.
The roo^raint th, t h. d given cuch rrcchnecs r.nc, . utiiority to
Bnrr tt's c,ci± J.ir, in cuch pl.iyc as T.\hed.
U'ion the moniory. ; Iic Hrmlot ILJ the product of
pft:lr;nt intclli; :ence, coiit itioned by a co. L::OIIol;
cc perconality.
uc turniiv; to oalr..' c. notice, \/e find the -pro'uction credited
with ;i':J-:inc HfjnLet " a mor_t vict-aresque and ;-ni ,c>tec! :.;olovranatic
ploy, quite coherent c-jici ^.couonti; 1, and i'-All oi the
liveliest liui-i I A interest".
'j-'iie ijriiicecs's •i'licc'.ti-c jroc_uction, cuu; tLc -xrfon:ic.ncc of
the ae l;or-;.i:ain. er, h-.u brought to the .•!"y tho^.c q-acilitiec of
o-j. cii\r , c.r.cl iiioerrn-etr.tion r.,hich clev ted tiio ".-:tvi-.:rior
meloc'rcu.ia". The hero'c outr;tf,nuiii.'.i cu.vli'oiec v/ere dicpli'.yec!
only at the •:-••>-.ro-Ti/.. te crises, and t:ie villain h-cl a ccr-L i;i
shrewdness th;.t -.xivvontcd him fro..- '•-•liir.c a ;:,ho-.; ox ovil i .;•••• ,;-

1-3
ions to all and sundry. The play was made nlaucible, and its
characters v;ore reco^nisably human. The design of the pro*'action
shared this quality of reason: instead of being a gloomy
and indeterminate kingdom, Denmark was located unequivocally
in time and nlace. Whereas Irving had made alt er.^t ions in the
text which' rendered certain issues and events unclear, Barrett
had made the >lay's continuity secure, and had retainer; the
balance of character againct character. He ensured that
Hamlet should have a worthy opponent in Cl udiuc, and that
the usurper"should be understood as a sensitive and attractive,
if villainous man, Ophelia's account of Hamlet's vijit, in
11,1., and Claudius's persuasion of Laertes, in IV.5. end 7.,
reveal important aspects of the choreetors involved: Barrett,
in his concern that ths play be '.voll-n.do, ret ined them,
whilst Irving, whose concerns were predominantly with, the vivid
presentation of Hamlet, found himself able to dispense with
uae:.i. Irving*G Hamlet was a falling niigel, his "troubled weary
fcce, dicrdayinr the firct effects of moral poison": a norrl
being, tainted by hio betrayal, where Barrctt'a ; rince was
merely outwitted by evil.
Barrett revived tlie production on a rau.fojr of occasions,
including an An^rican tour, but he regained convinced tlv t he
was beirr denied, tittfe acknowledgement. In 1: -4 he wrote to
Ivloy Thomas expreccing his die -.ay at the "ut aer ignorance" of
those who attacked hio presentation of Hamlet as a youa/-" nan.
In 10C7 he v/as ..till un:,ble to coranrc'icnd the peculation that
his interpretation lacked -;oetry, and in tine hie rescntr.icnt
at thic cli lit was nubsuraed into Me convr'.ction thr.t he v/as
boin^ 1 , icrsecuted by an alliance of managero an.d critics. A
let or to ;,iro Clcuont Scott, dated only "Aug. 30" and sent
from the Granc? Hotel, Dra^lr-* announces i. !.aj.Tctt's intention
to ask "C|;j3m" to r;top the "nisr core Dentations" oT iiic Hamlet:
•jL'he "' rnr;" 1\. v never left me cince I -orofuced
the a • y~. I hc.v: il.ayed ":bo chai-:cter more often
than any living; :^ctor - to Ir-rrer r ceints. It
io not a fin;:ncirl failure.. .Only a ir.;!i to lit
beck at the naid clique .;!iich like an Octopus
reuchec out in every direction to collar no if
possible one! down ^ e »^-7
The performance vvac, perhape, treated unfairly by critics v;3io
expected the Lycourn qualities to be reproduced, but Bcu-rctt

lacked the personal magnetism of Irving, and he was probably
unrealistic in demanding that the Princess's Hamlet be accepted
r.s a personal triumph. After this venture, he old not return
to Shckccpcare until 1897, when he produced Othello. Shrw
observed that the actor was not "built to fit Othollo" but
that he produced the nicy "as usual, very well":
At the Lyceum, everyone is bored to mrdnese the
moment Sir Henry Irving and fdco Terry lo: ve
the .tare: at the Lyric, ac aforetime at the Princess's,
the play goes briskly fron beginning to
end, and ;here are always three or four auccesoes
in smaller perto sparkling round Mr Bnrzvtt's big
ps' rt *38
Archer repeated his former criticism of Barrett's qualifications
c.s a Sh& cospearean actor, but admitted that the revival
•JQ
pos, aseed "life and movement" J .
uith Godwin's help, Barrett had civen Ilralot v;ith a kind
of integrity that was lacking in Irving's productions of
Shakespeare, and with pictorial values Qii'i'cr^nt fr-jn those
of the Lyceum. It v;rs, hov/tvor, a pictori: 1 oro. action, and
only its being or/> nized with a view to "illuc orating" the
whole olay, rather than one nun, distinguished its theoretical
basis fion that of Irving's sti ,:'inc:. The same season sc-v/
another chrllence to Irving's supremacy as a nroaucer in
Mary Anderson'c Borneo and Juliet, ^ics Anc-erson, hov/ovcr,
u-ilielti the values of another kind of theatre, and accordingly
she offered a. different nixture of familiar ingredients.

165
Chapter Four.
k-JiibHi£LD AriiJ MAKY ABDji; SO.-, : ROMEO AMD

186
Hanry James, reporting on the state of London theatres in
the Jrnuary, 1861 issue of Scribner»a. Magazine. apologised
for an unavoidable "want oi gallantry". He wt-s obliged to
admit that none of the English actresses satisfied his
artistic criteria:
It takes more to make an accomplished actress
than the usual Englishwoman who e tbraces the
profession can easily lay \er hands upon; c
want of frankness, of brightness, of elegance,
of art, is commonly, before the footlights,
this lady's principal impediment .-i
Alter a survey of major actresses, James concluded that "the
most interesting actress in London" who came nearer than
any other to being ^mistress of her art", was uenevieve teard,
an American who had trained on the continent as ; n operasinger
and actress. James conceded that Kllen Terry possessed
"remarkable charm", but she impressed ruoro by the influence
of this natural gift, th; n by any artistic technique. Like
Arnold, James admirea the accomplishments of French ectors,
ano considered the majority oi brit ish porformers successful
more by accident than artifice. The lycuum periormtnces
were, in a sense, inartistic - Miss Terry was simply
herself, displayed in a series of striking crosses and
situations. Reviewers who disagreed , ith such an an. lysis,
and who hela her to be possessor of cal skill, v/oro
nonetheless et pains to remind readers of her pictorial
beauty. Thus a critic "of the gentler sex" wrote of . iss
2
Terry's Viola :
Clad in cret-m and gold draperies, the little
sapphire-blue c; p being her one touch of
colour, she looked - to use a hackneyed phrase
- just fs if she had steppet. out of an old
picture, and a picture such as Leighton might
paint or Morris urite verses upon*
(The Theatre, ns. TV (August lfc84J 16S.-4; p.l63/
The reviewer suggested th,'t "oict the new Viola appeal to no
other sense ut, ;,hat of sight she would still be & sue* e s",
but less sympathetic voices cl.- ined th. t there ;ms no other
ap.eal, and tii, t Miss Terry was, for ell her professional
experience, en ©'liable amateur in the interpretation of
Shakespeare, lacking range and subtlety.

To iill the Vc cant position - assu; dn^ its vacancy -
of le,dinj_, actress, s candidate would h&.ve to oo :;istross
of chci-m, beauty am:, to pie; so those uuci ptivsted by & lien
Terry, exceptional technical skill*
i. Mary Anderson
when Mary Anderson arrived in London, in the sur.irner of 14,63,
she v.-fw tv.enty-iour years old : Ellen Terry had been thirtythree
when, in the previous season, she appeared &r> Juliet
at the Lyceu: . Miss Anderson's stc^e debut had take-i place
only eight years previously, LI. en she played Juliet at
Macauley's sic Theatre in Louisville, Kentucky - she had
known Shakespe; re's jlays since the a&e of t-.e^c rnd, lil.e
Helen Feucit, h&c felt simultaneously the passion of
identification vith bhakecpeare 's i eroinoo a.to the ciesire
to represent them in public. The "olc red volu,:«j" had
beco:.)o "like e c aket filled v;ith je' els", v/hose "fltnes
ondf li.shes" might "glorify a life": the inter rut tion oi
the characters appec.red to be a public set of piety and c
fulfilment of the actress's emoti ms .
Charlotte Cus: r.i, n .;d ^iven the youn^ r spirant the
unusual acvice th t she should start at the top, cna this
she contrived to do, moving quicl:ly fron the indul^euc^ of
ho e-town audiences to the p.-..tr ML. t,c of eminent actors.
Considerable bo.-..uty L.-.C. L> chrrnint, ;::; r,.4i^r ep o-. en in p ci £i .-.iiiod
and poignant mauner. In A Fe:/ Me-iories . published in lo^\ ,
seven years rftor her withdr; wal fron the stc^e , the actress
doscribed l^ur leelin^s as she approrchea ^n, land in l£^3:
The chief ^ood ray v/ork litc acconplichoc , I folt,
v/as the aii-.o.-rrnce , vorbr lly a:.t by letto: ,
in^ny young ":e;i a»;ti i.one i th; t the examples of

such char.-ct^rs as Parthenie, Ion, and iivedne, in
particular, hea helped them in their dtily lives,
ana strengthened them In r.or.ients of despondency
and te not at ions. / ^ -. 0 ,

169
oi the early 'eighties often shov/s a frt nkness a^c ch.- rm which
compensate for the efforts at self-perfection. In 1L#3 she
wrote to tell Winter of the plcy sr.e had been sent by Oscar
Wilde, The Duchess of Pedua. The play must be declined, on
the grounds that "crime IG its sole aspect":
and I cannot deal with crime even in an artistic
way, at least not yet.^
In the published writing, such an admission would have b,en
made as a claim that crime was beneath Miss Anerson*s dignity,
rather th&n out of her range.
After her arrival in Liverpool, Mory Anderson *u d m; de
a pilgrimr>ge to Str tford. In A.ondon she toade preparations
for the coming season, and decided to open with Partbenia,
in Mrs* Lovell*s In^o.aar the Barbarian - it \a-s t sir:, 'le
part, and in it she "could not chc>llenj_,e comparison v/ith
any English favourites" (A Few Memories* p,137)« On August
29 she wrote to winter that despite "struggles" she had brought
hex "artistic rsGociates" round to her "way of thinking":
They havo giveu up pesterin^ me about being
patronized by some gre^t lord or lady - etc.
- etc. - I hcve absolutely refused all invitr tioas
- and wuen esked i;hy I GO so I say I In ve ^ot
come to London for social success but hope forthet
some yo rs hence .;hen I hcve deserved it - tLe
people thc't I hive net are charming - PC everywhere
there are sone scr nc oliters ;,hj have no
respect even for the dead but these poor v.rotches
are or.,ily avoided.^
Araon^-, the "ortistic rs^ociates" w«-u Lei/is Strange ..ingfield.
In September U;3 M; ry Anderson took up residence in f.tiaci
Vale, vulsero the designer had livua since his return irjn
Paris in 1&71 L . In a letter received by willirn ..inter on
September 21 she wrote:
...as for Lev/is Uin^field you tolc mo not: in,^ of him,
and he has been engr^ed - e :d in fact V.TS in our
dr;win c roon talking over the I .p.'- ;• r dresses (; hich
t-re beoutiful) \:l

190
letter, to & kindly but only mildly enthusiastic reception.
The play, translated in 1651 from a uern.: n original, 3aO/ed
ho., a b; rb; ric warrior was reclucec to coceucy ty a young,
graceful and pious wife: it v,s, said The Illustrated London
iio;-rs. "highly moral but extremely wearisome, artless and
nonsensical" (6 September 1££3), and it had long been absent
from the English repertoire. Miss Andersen'a acting was
appropriate to the part of Pe.rthenia, which Vi-e. TJEIOS
described as "easily within the range" of an acties, who
happened to i.c gifted with ^retty and engaging v;rys w and
who could \:Q; r Gr^ek costume" in such a manner as not to
suggest a night dress". Although the newcozaer posses..od
"natural gifts of rare excellence, gifts of f,- co tuu, form
and act. on", tuere were shortcomings in her technique:
The elegant artificialit.,- of the American school,
a tendency to pose and self-conscious isic , to
smirk even, if the work nuy be permitted, os ecially
v^hen advc.ncinb to the footlights to receive a full
"er.sure of apjle.uso, v/ero fet-1 to such efforts of
sentiment a even so stilted r p^-ay conic oe mcc'.e
to yield.
(The Tines. 3 September)
Miss Anderson appeared "more co ;cerned wi

evidence in Ingomar (a play he admired ; re.-.tly) oi I isu
Anderson ( s excoptional range, and the latter printeo a
review by "D.C.", of embarrisoin^ kindness (ij . u 3 oeptember,
_ 5 September).
The first of the new-comer's productions had be~n as
olaf;shioneu as any 01 Irving's plays, but The Lady of Lyons.
which folloiea, v;as even older, fehen it was first produced,
in 183f>, Bul.ver's pi; y had been recognised ts a strong
actin^ piece with faults. Richard Ilenbist Horno, a vellaisposud
critic, had praised in 1L44 the sentimental and
morel truth of the story, the "easy flov, of the ai, lo^ue",
and the manner in which the whole was "just sufficiently
clothed in an atmosphere 01 poetry to take it out of the
mere prose of existe >co, v/ithout calling upon th- imagination
for any efiort to comprehend it". But i e reluctantly illo«;cu
th; t the plot nw uld not be. r examination by ciny hi^ii
strndc.rd" . By the 'ei^.tius, the play*s "poetry" h&o lost
its appeal - Archer, in g.n,,Iish lirarn; tists of Today clispar- >: ec
"the pinchbeck sorrows of Pauline", and even The Pal.l i-.all
Uazetv-e. i/hose roviu.:or so enjoyed In-,onrr» was able to
ofier only t e poor orcuse of its being a t .ooa actin, pity
as e palliative fjr its "mock sentiment,...tinsel ;hilosophy,
and...shaf poetry" . To a aecaoo 'hich was ,»o lo,i,,ui- satisfied
with Robertsoa, Bul.«ur f s rf^Gctations were scarcoly t-jler;. ble,
but the ol ay renainod in provincial repertoires, rau v;as
seen occasionally in London.
12
v.hen Bar^ett procuced it at
a matinee in liti t The ncrcipr^ coia >li inud of "the v.jry
secona-rate u; lity oi the ooutry" and tL'6 "w: .it of
verisimlitude" in some oi the cL.r.cters, but acmitt..o tact,
well-ilayed, the piecu retoinec L certain vit iity. The
corre ^poncient of The 1\^;.. tru cecioet. t:i^ t ti.u -..•trr.ti': a.ad
emotion of tiu ,/art .-ore missoa a.ici that the playing, ta->u0h
"con-jet", c.id rut carry any convictim:
Oh, rain^ es th^ lady nay bo, both in look ano
^osturo, GL-j i^ certainly v.antiiv i-^ thst inexplicable
impulsivonos:-:, that absolute aba.no.on.. leat
oi consciousnes_ anc; s^lf-_..ossessioa, x;itiiout
v/hicii alt actir._must a .pear false cac untrue.
(n.s.Vi ( L .jc, ; ber, UO) j21-,.: 3^ 1).

192
The Athenaeum suggested th. t Miss Anderson had not so f i r shown
any si^n of a c* pr; ui.lity to jlty treble parts:
Though destitute neither of en ho, p auline moves the a ani ration rather
than stirs the hot rt. . .i^ven in the supreme moment
of the third act, in v;hich the biice learns i:0,
foully she has been wronged, i er moods oi mortification
and anger :re evanescent, end her voice subsides i^to
a murmur which is £ Imost a caress, 'ihe nrt to conceal
art is not mastered, and that r sense of v/c/nt of
spontaneity is conveyed, must also be conceded...
(3 November 1683)
An anonymous revie.;er in The Dr: nietic RQVJQ-.. (11 April 16Gi>/
suirt:;.. rized his dissatisfaction with the : c tr,so» interpret tio-io
by clf.irdnt, th; t she appealoa more in repose th^n in OCG-.OS
of passion, end t*u t he woulo rfthor "co template her as the
st tue, in the first ret oi ugl^te/'. » than listen to her
finest outburst as Juliet", uilbert's play, ^roau eo i^hen
The Ladyr of Lyons had been est; blished in Mis,, i m.erson's
repertoire, ofieroo her first direct challenge to a
contenporary £Ctress»
In the letter to .inter v;hich described her first declines
'.-'ith Le^±s Win^iiolt.' t Mary Anderson also iiiontioned uilbert:
reports th;: t he hao lorb.'-caien her to periorn (-/_., ;. j i >n_ c-u.c
(jfl;: ter -./ore "..'ithout iounc-.; tion" - he \.< s "t chfrmijit man",
and in some nino v/eeks she would stc;,e tlie oluer piece, and
a rnj,,, bri..f, ciren., c lied Con^dy £-nc. Tr; ; ,...c:y (rel'eri-ec to in
the letter ?s "his ne- ploy"). It ^^ould be "a O rec't
pleasure t^ crectc a pi rt by so thorou t ;.li rn rrtist" - ti.is
was in o rly September. A iurt.,er letter, r-oceivju by inter
on octobe . 5, mentioned a meeting .ith Gilbert '..rho ;;&s
eviuently concerned about the >rocuction and inter >retation
of his v/ork: "I suppose ho thinks I vant to ii.tr -^c- ace s
and drnces etc, i.-i it" 1 -5 . The Lcdy )1 Lyons die ^pod business
- a letter postn, rked October 27 i forced Winter th; t the
previous night's house arnountGutD tiirej huriclreo and i':.ft/
threo pounds, c.nd th.- 1 all the best se ts ore ttken for
four -.;-el;s ahead. TJ o fourth '.;eok of tho run -;porK.a
PUC jiciouwly i/ith £• house i.-orth thro^ hunciroc arid ^ort^-oi:;
pounds, and in another, .aartec, le ter .inter ..TJ ii i jrrioc
th:t, vdth t. kin-s z-v^r; &Jn0 bet':een tl re- !:unoret !. and fiity
and thre j hundrec. r.nd seventy pounds, it ap^eored th.:t ll.o

193
Lady of Lyons would be retained until Christmas. ^
By mid -November i-;w-jna lion and Galatea was la rehears; 1:
vjintert was tolci the t Gilbert and the actress worked together
".oil enough", save ior a oiisagrtjer.ent over the morieut in
the second tct v.hen Pygmalion was struck blind. Miss Anderson
wantet. a "dark effect", but gilbert, evidently wishing to
iaint; in the A; :y's naturalistic atmosphere as a foil to the
fantasy oi its situation, refused to allow "so :•„ sign from
heaven" . The original interpreter of Galatea had been i.rs
Kendal, ./ o pljptyea the statue as a warm and tender young
woman - Robert Buchanan described the performance's "delicate
and dreamy beauty" as noticeable "even in her slow, 'sv .tinniii0 '
noveneiits about the st;. ^e , :..s:ich Hi tec it into the high
region of an Aristoph; nic crertion" (he did not e.x /I in his
invocation of the Athenian) . ^uchanan's capacity for
self -contradiction must, as always be allowed for: oAly a
hidden consistency in his tlou,_,Lt or an impulsive lack of
cO-oruia; tion could reconcile t i;j description of Mrs Kend; 1,
written in lfc?6 anc reprintoa in Iti?, • ith the claim ni. co
in 1LL9 that the actress's "cours-neso 1*1,0 commonness of
method" \ ero "v.orthy jf r st; ^e cha"bernai>. '•'. ,ievertheless,
the earlier ps. sa^,^ st nos c s c re-jrcsentativo oi contem >or- ry
enthusiasm for ITS Kenaal's _x2riorn-nce
17
« In H t'e-.
Wfry Ancerso t reme iber^a i. visit to the i>t. Jtnes's
to se^ , rs Kencal in lu julsQ , (by B.O.itephen-oori, iron a
French origin.'. 1 J :
when Mrs Keno,- 1 cane upon the st? go , i"er r.'ci,'nt
he^ oer-tTiul he ir sin ].y rricn^co. and
no sh? GOI. of 'mti GUJ' or artificiality cbout
her, I thought he. one of the nost ch; r^ing \;onoa
I had evj- se^n on the bj£-rus.
(p. 134;
I.oi/ry James founa krs. Ke;idal "tLc niost agreeable i ctress
upon the London strge", '^c it was x.ith this chr rm tl.ct she
endo ec Gf latj. .
Mary Anderson's char •» v;r s njt of the homely and
nature - rcordin,:,, to The Ti :es:
li the heart '..as not to be touchcc, rs, incioec, in
such t- play it scarcely ou ht to ,;e , the eye wrs
enabled to re . xse upon the f :.nest t; aloi i- v- v-. --1

194
thrt the stt l,yinu , although "uainpgin; tive
and stony" had been more ap>ropriate. Gilbert V;CG lesa .
satisfied, as Jtery Anderson admitted in her autobio^r- phy:
Mr. Gilbert did not r-gree with my conception of
the clc ssic mev.nin^ of Galatea's character -
which seemed to me its strongest and most eflective
side - saying that the play '..ati a nineteenth
century comedy, dressed in Greek costume, "..uich,"
he ,?dded, "is the dnly classic thing cbout it".
(A .-. ev/ Memories, p. 149)
No serious brea c ; ppe^rs to heve resulted from this cdsf.greement,
for wiss Anderson was pondering the procuction
of another of the author's plays, and relations ran;, iriec
sufficiently cordial for he.' to rttenc. a re he; rspl of
^.ld;. in January .
In I'rrch the Lyceum season ended. Mayy Anderson took
a vacation whilst Lav;rence Br.rrett, the American cgtor, put
on a season of his best-known perforrunces. The

195
by ? roviv.' 1 oi ty^n; lion,, JEKI.. .^..-._!.,• t.vw :": ftKl Oo A..OJ_ ... _..c. _ *n f _.4 Ly,
shouU; tho oh; I:oi;>.H>rro pi; y t-; o "fo:i v_,or to s^r^ n>i\t»'" L la t.:.,o
ot-ruior aho took o ^reliminr.ry trip to Verom , wVero o'o ond
her party v.ere lucky enough t^ find rn "excellent Nerpolitrn
ertist 0 who L cconoriiioa them and sketched tho loc; ti ms
chosen for tho fort he Mint, >roo action (A 1 o- "onori^o, p. 171 )•
ii. r'ro^f/T^-tions for jjonoo. ; ac. Juliet*
cti.m of the ^l-ry, in Iti. r t L;. c ^^ r hijh
st^noM'c for fny suo.oa:?uent jr'K ;. :orc;. Altli >*,.,' by no neons
a trlurnh for the rct>r, it had Ix-on one of tho '- i:, Cj i '
, ro test rrtistic oi.ccesi.us. Ty pice 1 of ito roco x>tion v*rs t e
Jud^omont of The Atbon/vura, t: . :t .hoio a the re tin,, VA- s
hr n ly e'vjr: L-!.o, tho ot /.in... • oulcl "^rrh tn or.- in ct. v c-
cocor,' va'.i { «d ri^.^.^^z^ojii'' ;-^_ ot^ruc to bo ;^tivrtoa not by re •;>!•.; r.;co.it
love ;.;ut "cor;c atl'or otrou,. onotion of c n >ro nature u^irit",
i Lici-i ni L,ht .o f ti.o ;ortur 'i'.tion of i;rnlot, or the v/ilc ou.^
of Mr.cbeth" : the sr nu ^conrjrr; t^vo i.__i_:_..,.^ of feeli.)^.,*1
seer- uc to HjinofLo lillon To.r/ ? G .T.-.liot. ihe ste ^ _n,., '>.. t. o
•it'- or i • na: t could mt bo .jrrAGOt; ooo hi L .i.ly:
J r vrnii^ce. ; i it is. /s f- sorios of . or . .o ^icti«i\;:;
it is ujvi-'jeoc-ontoc, and c; n ocr rcoly o^ sur_jcooo
oo.-o oi" the sconoa - ..ai.-b'^, o< *clut' t_.i rcua rif
Juliet's ch.< nber - nioht be tr. inaier^oci to c; ^vr...
dth ,;iit little rlt.rrtion, raci r cco ;t ^. « c . .tr.J:
f no srtiui'? ct .;ry "irUa oi rrt, x.rvin i ,_*vcvi of
com ositi "j ii .orti.y -•.. iicl'.GO'.. or .'i ; i'oc,o; ..cl. rXK
enc 0 Co'' r , oi col-jva- GL-^o^tiVo j. .11*^0—* 'iios or
~>i I •!;:• n Lunt.
T • f-,- «.«! 1 p«i >• i
i i i i it Z t» i - i l-> '- '- /
The next r:-o:»t'.-.nce -:jurliIi^G edvlr,-. tioa ..itij tho t^r o . uich
./era fro ..o tly rpolio-c to Irving'a ao-tia. , -• n< i julc sj >vi
b.j i^sot; in notic s of I'Va^ />
/.nd ii the :ro'30:,co of t-ho pict -..ruo u^aoou t ;t
C:-:. 1' G cOvtlc COD >O :O< t 1 >V tll'j fuSu.-Cc •.>! thu
poosion thrt : nv.- 3 , ti.io rov_vf 1 • .-!«.. ii.C ooc to
a disti ''i l ,.:-S'OC fiiio ua vrlii'ioc s^cco;,,
In ___ j__._^ . . _ ^ .-•. -r ,.jr- iuu-c lr-/.;... ,'s int- -1 ;i,>:.cc , i:io
liberri uso jf or -or", i o v;. acre i-i.c - unus 'ily i ;r tho i,yc-..u

196
- tne PAaamo'lo of the company; but he felt th; t too much hac.
been left t ) the scenery, for ell tho mrm^er's brin^in^
"culture and intelligent taste" to ber.r upon ' inr ttcr:.; from
•,;hich £ dozen years ago culture and taste • ero ^ener. lly
divorced" (1, March lc£2). Shrw, v;riting sone years later,
took Irving's Romeo as tn example of ingenious st£^infc , co :bineo
with "absurdity", and of Irving's inability to ,- do >t himself to
op
r>n author's creation.
This set Mary Anderson a considerable tasi: , for she v.cs
obliged to emulate Irving's methods, not in ^enerrl terms,
but with reference to r s >ucif ic production. At the s me time
sbc h;t to make the most of the comparison . ith Ellon Terry,
ina e prrt './here the older actress *s "maturity" had been
t ck -O. lec^eci iii t-he >roso as c; disadv, nt; (-..o. ;.-,
every action, every bit of xrntomime, every ste-j
has to be cr»efully taught, it EK y be imsj:,inea
the t sk v;.:-is not e,- sy.
The supers were drilled in be tcl es of six, Mid in f;ccitioa
to t:.eir supervision in^fielc: i as obli,;_.ec( to take c; •; r^u
of carpenters, costumiers, scene-printers, canco ro..ef'rsal^,
fencing lussoris, rnd w,_.orierrl w r^i:ef:rsc Is. '.these cltir'S
su^.fst £ frr ,..r«frt'-r burcea of responsibility t. ;n ct ii be
C0iifit.e;3tly assigned to tioc.i/in, in the proc.uctions he
"supervise", ^.in^fiela also crr.n^uc. thu text, ^.. s>,(

197
(according to the interview) on the !;/»• Quarto: i
tradition. 1 "points" and deviations irom the original would
be eschewed. This e.mbition far textu; 1 purity seems a
fashionable reflection of the new, "scientiiic" criticism,
end, ft the s; me time, an insinuation th^t Irvin^'s text
was not purged of corruptions, teingfielo. shared the pretension
with Wilson Barrett, and it , ; o gladly seized upon b_ the
more cynic? 1 reviewers as & further product of the rr-^e for
authenticity •
Wingiield vouchsafed t fe.-j other hints it scientifically
correct splendour: the dresses were bases upon Cr>r_jaccio f s
St. Ursula se ;uence "limned nearly 600 years ago by... the
ecclesiastical Hogarth oi his period" (the infelicitous
phrasing io probably that of the Journ; list). Evei: the
gardens s^o ;m on st. t>e had been copied from original Italian
ones, and the

198
The reason for Abbey's curt note is not evice.,t: it may
heve be ;n that he challenged toingfield's outiiority, or that
he did not. give him the proper payment (his "terms"?). The
letter does indicate some tension between professional staff
end adviser: |i .I'in^fielo 's word WE s as absolute es his
intorviu, st.g . jested , ti ;o sce»ie-pai;-ters and technicians must
have voeri unusually docile. It . ppears, moreover, that the
design policy of the c^np^ny had iailed badly in the dressing
of Fy;,melion and Galatea. Alna-Tadema gave an intervie. to
The Pall Mall Gazette in which he denied responsibility for
the costumes, and made it clear that he had not been employed
on an official basis, or attended &f*y "st; , e-reheersals n .
Miss Anderson, he pointed our, was dressed according to c
design by an Americ; 1 ;. rtist, Frank D. i illet. On the opening
iiight the actress's first act cross did not look ri,\ht:
Tadema went behind and, in the green-room, "pulleo the drapery
more iully round the upper rrr., besides making one or t..o
other little changes" (10 December Ibt3). After the second
act he v;ent behind again and "pinnect up the dres^ in front so
that, instead of ca^chin^ betv.e^n h^r feut and bul^in^ out,
it hung iree in a strright lin^". ;>ut Miss Anderson had only
taken his advice in c casual way, and his suggestion during
the reheaisrl period that r certain kind of oqii i ur_e be
adopted wr.s overruled. Tadema gave tno intervio-or ids
pessimistic vio.f of the movement to,, arc .s stage a.L-tnc-iiticity:
ti'6 >urity and simplicity oi t sto x/hich rei^noo
iu r>':tique costurae rre foreign to the very
principles of the nocorn st. ge , x ith its
c littor and sho" , its cre'Ving for un i^lcy
om< rr;ent anc c:.:-ce masses of colour.
Li; e :.:ay of the revieTj.e.o, he found the costumes 3i the
other members of the c; st ga.xU r-nd innrc,.r; to , and he v.as
s :if t to dissociate himseli from them.
.hilot in Taxless 's relationship ith th , production OA
Gilbert's play one crn ciaeern the syn )tons 01 the traditions!
mutual distn.st of "experts" enc t.oci .;icic -s , in £.^^2.^1';.
Jiliet the -tovo ont t ;,/aros the estcblis o.,t of 'ho rr.i,:t,ic
director * as fully endorsed. ..ingfielc vent so far is to
impugn the arch eolo^ic-1 accuracy of lrv:,ng ! s ..roovction,
clairdng that "his dresses x-eru i^.g..n?ry, r.u belonged t> no

199
period at all" and th

200
that he had visited the Lyceum \vith some friends, after
re;.dinr some very unf vourable reviev/s, and, finding his
impressions no ;'t variance v.lth the opinions of the critics,
had been move to write in the octrees f s defence. Humphrey's
article hi s the subtitle "Voice miO ..notion: ith Reference to
the Juliet of ,: ;iss nry Anderson", and seeks to interpret the
performance in tome 01 a theory of c-ctinc. /otinr: th- t an
actor m.-.y be .aid to have expressed a pacrion when the audience
rihov;s si us of feeling it, he remarks on the existence of two
reactions to HSS Andersen's acting. ?his c ivioion in the
e^ci:a tes of, the perfom. nee oa-.y-eet to hin that too little
attention hns be-, n . -id to "the . o.;er of the voice cs an evoker
of enotion". (Hie description of the voice relates it to
current t ojiiea of raucicpl expression:)* He eventually
arrives at the criteria he would r v>iy to , ctin.-« J re;;nr;oocinr$
an atoent.i.ve and "f« elin^' 1 audience, there are three conditions
e:.. enti•• .1 to ;.rtietic cuccess:
1st '7'iG situations in the ?-

201
not been token into account in the i allowing discussion of
the London production: they op only have been arrived at
towards the end of the run, Oi- during the preparations for
the tour* The management had made much of the textual "purxty"
01 the proGuction, and it se^-ms reasonable to assume tlut the
published acting edition (1864) bears a close relationship to
what v?-s spoUen on sta^u, at least in tJ.u late st£, es of
rehearse! pna dur:.n,_ the early weeks of the ono hundred ana
seven performs ices. Sxrvilarly, comparisons with Irvin^'s
text have been confined to his published edition (18c2),
despite the discrepancies in prompt-co.jioa . Irvin&'s
pro par- tion copy (Rol c,:r lion, 12 - 5h?ttuck 44) ofiers some
indications of his work on the text before the Chiswick Press
pa^e proofs oi his ovm edition were available for use in
rehearsal, and divergences of this text iror.i th, t rac.ce public
have been noteu. Irvia-_, frankly admit ted in is preiece the t
he had endeavoured "to retain all th; t w; s coup; tible .ith
the presentation of the play within a reasonable li:dt oi
time", ra' he ackno./lecged the usefulness oi Furness's ^e^
V a riorum ecition )i the plr.y, hich had appce.rec iu livl»
The Folger preparation co vjy cif j ers iron the KL2 Irviau
acting eoition in ninety-six^ instances (forty-five v:here it
omits paost'.&es or lines used in 1Lt.s. t rnc filty-oao w;, ere it
uses "i&.t^risl omitted in the edition). This cctin.^ ec>it:on,
in turii, ciffers iron the play as ^ivon, x;ith su0 ested c..to,
in the \-^> ii-. y Irvin, v ohrkespeere (Volume 1,16&L, pp.lV?-2^>:
ecdteo by Frfnk Mfrsl-ull) in oue hundred and fifteen iastinces.
The feting edition omits ninety-seven prss

202
Marshall ncmittdd in his general introduction: it did, nevertheleso,
nic rk passages suitable for omission in public
re< dint; en !; ce of
Verona, painted by John O f Connor. The dialogue between
Gregory ano Sampson v,rs brief rnci cleanly (by the loss of
some twenty linos, 12b-3 folio, oo vr< s
"more turbulent and noisy then the last", Clement Scott
admitted, but it v;rs so £-rr nged th;-1 Identification of the
characters became difficult (The Daily Tole,.,rv ph, 3 ilov^i.iber
1864). The Athenaeur.i ^.vo a fuller description ox the Ii 0iit:
At the cli uetis oi s. oi^P the bur.h.rs and
artisrns run to or from tL«j co:..bit, and the
•.voinen co ;..or -..here they can swo the ii 0i.t. Very
lar irom bloocloss is, moreover, the contest.
A n

203
the fray. Enter three or four citizens ana peace
ofiicers with clubs or partisans.
The latter of the two sentences in Irvin^'s direction is
the sta^e direction of the seconc quarto, and the meaning
of "partisan" might have been found in the i.ie ' Variorum. but
I'd So Ande^son (or toingfield) ap JG rs to have disregarded the
direction and the meaning. Both Irving and Mary Andersen
gave Capulet and Montague an un-Sh; kespearean but theatrically
trac.itionrl dignity by omitting the hectoring of their wives,
and, ia Capulet's case, the night-attire. The Prince's speech
lost ten of its more f ancif ul JLnes (£ilb-t3 anci 67-*3) and
the reference to "Old Free-To\;n" was removed.
Montague and his vife rericin behind to discuss Koneo
with Benvolio. In this sequence Irving cut t. cnty six lines
in his published text (108-110,124-S,132-6)and 143-153),
although the preparation copy omitted only five (124-t)« ilary
Anderson's cutting wt

204
old omission oi .-osaline, cut coun Romeo's port and the
Discussion of his nature* Irving lot Juliet*s age stc nd
at fourteen (1*2.9), but omitted the line in his preparation
copy: Miss And^rson altered the number to eighteen, an a^e
nearer her own^ *
Juliet's first appearance came with t e second scene -
the third of the fuj.1 text - which represented the log&ia of
Capulet's house* A loggia had been used in Irvin^s production
for the fifth act of act two, and was considered by The
Athenaeum (11 . arch ltL2) to be among the details by which
"t e open-air life chpracteristic of the South" wss shown.
Lytton found the actress's entrance entirely satisfactory:
Her sudden impulsive entrance at the cell of the
Nurse, who is looking for her in another
directionj followed by the shy girlish pause
between the curtains, at the ftords "Madam, I err.
here"| when she perceives the presence of her
mother**.the sort of innocent careless vccaacy
which pervades the whole expression of the f^ce,
and every attitude and essture of the figure,
throughout this sc^ne, are exactly \ h, t they should
be*
The £ra (& November) found the actress "fresh*. *>ret,,y,. .and
...enchanting", but added th< t she coulo do little more than
be charming* A number of others found her demeanour in the
early scenes unconvincing and shallow *• ffhe Stape. (7 November)
consic-,red Juliet's "trippinc , tt downstairs in Siisv/er to her
mother's call "an obtrusive sho,/ of juvenility", execute
"in the same manner that a schoolgirl mi t,ht run to meet a
favourite teacher"* Lytton was uncertain about the
legitimacy of one particularly
.•t
efioctive pieco of busi i.css
it the end of tho scene, .vhen dance music vas itiiutly auc'ible
as the servant announces the e_rival of the guests:
Catching the s-uncl of this music, Juliet (who he s
been raore or less inattentive to ti'.e tali: i)ct'. Gun
her mother and the nurse, or vho, at least, hcs
listened '.;ith an obvious indifference to thu subject
of it), makes e littl. dance novo ient v/ith her ieoi
as she follows her mother to the cic-nco.
he took this to be a siyi of Juliet's inpulsiveness: Her
excitement at the prospect of the ball would '-j^ "coniinec ,
like a cialci's, to the oxcltoment of -.ho de.-icin..., and not

. Illust ation 10 Following p. 20k
Mary Ande;son as Juliet,1884

205
derived from any sentimental interest in the dancers:
At the first sound of the music she pauses for c
moment, as ii av/akened by it out of her previous
indifierence. her eyes kindle gradually*, her face
and figure assume animation.
His doubts took the form of a feeling th«-1 "it rather
disturbed the pleasing effect of a figure formed rathe;- for
the graces of repose than for those of movement"* The
movement itself seemed a little incongruous i.i oae so tall and
statuesque cs liiss Anderson, but it was ^cinittedly one which
none but a sensitive and intelligent actress would have c
conceived*
Mrs Gal vert performed Lady Capulet in a runner v;hich was
admitted to be "conventionally corredt", but The L-^clon
Figaro suggested that the character night be made "less
repellent" (7 November 1^4)* Lytton described htr as a
"most alarming lo.kia^ dame .ith a terribly forbidding
countenance". Laura Payna, the Lady Capulet in lo&2, had
played the part in a fas ion which Vanity Fair. (IB iiarch)
considered "uselessly harsh ana sour"* The tradition of
Lady Capulot as ^r/nde. d;.no scons to have been quite firr.ily
established, her social position fixed by unwavering adoption
01 "Lady" rather then "-. lie" end "Old La. ft , the alternatives
given in the second Quarto. Mrs Jameson had aescribed L; cy
Capulet, -.ithout vcrr-.nt from the text,at:, "S'. eepiii^ by \.ith
her treJ.n of velvet, her black hooc, hor lau, ana h»..r ros>. rj
- the very be/-u icec 1 of a proud Italian nictron of the
fifteenth century'"31 . The nurse \.c-s played by tirs Stirliii^,
v;ho distinguished herself in the sane pert in lc£2, \.hen she
had ttken it for the first tire. No.v The Illustrated
Sporting and Dramatic ?.'ews praised h-r for ".^rin _nc out its
homely humours" without, as Mrs Calvert hi d done ;:ith Lacy
Capulet, "modernising" it. T e new version gave I.rs 3tirlin0 ,
v;ho was Govsnty-one years old, so ,e n-.. lines to le;rn, but it
o attod, as us^al, nost oi the earti-iness >1 the charectei.
There \;as no allusion to the suckling of Juliet, or tic
development o± the husband's joke ("Thou :;ilt iall back.^rc.
when thou co.aest to a^e"). In Irvi;i0 f s version ov-n the
chaster bo^i .riin L of this sally v/?s omitteci.

206
The first misfortune of the evening came in the next
scene (one of G'Oomor's streets in Verone ) . In 1182
William Terriss had made an acceptable i ercutio, and although
a little too animated, "over-boisterous, and distinguished
by restlessness and an excess of action", he had won "vociferous
applause" (The Theatre, ns.? Upril lu.2) 231-242 ; p. 241 ).
V'edmore, in The Acrdemv. had noted that the actor delivered
the Queen Mab speech "v:ith only too much zeal to the audience,
instead of to the stage" (18 March UL2). It wortinj.^ and Drgraatic i.evi-:s: Standing
T/,cvnted to m&i.e . ercutio s pe; k his t..'ju, ,;'tG
as they occurred to him instead Ji" as &
recitotion, ana there he -.;as ri^ht enough,
according to t e nooern viev.s of str ^e
soliloquy, rue so f-^rth. i ut he m&ao the
:dst?ke of beginnin, , too casually r-.nd in
too co&i'se a tone; j-ndthen "/nen sounds
of disap rovrl '.;ere heard, he seemed to tj ro'.;
nervous, and, like ino.ny .nothe.'. nervous
became almost
(S Novembei 1 }
This ;;e.b another example of "modeniisin^," - fi; actor, unused
to any but modern comic >erts, unable to cope with the £,li -

207
abetlun idiom. St. ndin^ had some experience in Shakes >vi re,
having appeared as Hal to Mark Linon's Falst ff, but his best
work had been don.; in modern comedy - notably, in 1177, Albery's
Pink Dominoes. The Stage found his Mercutio "c bluff, goodnetured,
easy-going, rubicund gentlemen", and Lytton thought
him based, perhaps, upon "sons prosperous proprietor of a
society Journal", v.-ho was "the heavy wag of a not very refined
coterie". The London Figaro felt that something voa to be
said for the reading, but that it had "too much S'-.o^, er about
it" and wvs too reminiscent of Criterion comedy. The Morning
post returned to tie pore.Jii; 1 lament that few actors knew
ho.v to handle the language of Shakespeare, and observed that
Standing was "by no means the only actor in the troupe who
v;ould do v.ell to remember that tie language of Shakes »eire
cannot fitly be spoken like the dialogue of every day modem
life" (3 November).
The K84 version cut some thirty-seven lines from the
scene: Irving, in,,his pre ar-tion copy arid in his printed
actinc edition, made a different selection ai::o .nt:ln tj to
thirty-si; deleted lines, both theatrical texts rejected
the coa;iccture by .vlrich lines 67-9 of the .ueen I-lab speech
verc tr usposcd from their original position to follow line
i>t> (in order that the mention of the "chariot" mi^ht precede
-' 2
the itemisin^ of its components)^ . Mary Ariciorson retri.iod
line 6y {"That plaits tr.e manes of horses in the night"; . no
"this is she", where I'.ercutio sterns cib ;ut to conti^L.o, but,
like Irvin-,, she omitted liuos v--^f, . uici. include i-iob f u tror.tnent
oi rieid^. w on ti.cy lie on their backs.
The fourth scea^ OC L a v.ltii li.i; 1-, ol i.>, t,he serv. ata'
dialogue beia^ omitted. It v/i s set in a "noble he.ll" i.ith
moonlit ^.i-dcris visible t. rou^.-j lrrici.ly scul..'t«..rvci crches
and Ooi-iiiti-i: a columns" ('iho i^-ily ^Q>JJ.» 3 w ^rer^.^r). The
arrangement m: y hr ve o :eci soi oliiiiiv, to Irvin, 's cot, -..•!.ich
stretched "beck..- rds into the open garden" (The ;.th.-ifc eu- .
11 frc.rch 1662). An illustre tion in tho Pi: 11 Mall Gazette
(j November) sho^-s the "Corinthian columns" as ti/o sets of ; t
le• st ei Llht pillars ^cc supportin,,., log,,,ias (or ;os iuly
simole ent: blotur^o; «• t either sice of the stc,-_,-.,, joi.ii.., ;.t

208
the back a row of three rounded arches,, throu^,: wi.ich the
garden was seen. The ceiling oi the set (if there wts one)
is not apparent, and the downstage area seems to have been
completely fr^e of furniture or pillars, rs ii for a baliet.
This arrangement may hove been reflected ia the blocking of
the scene, for The Saterdov Review complained thet its "only
weakness* vas "the manner in which the quests and raaskeis Oo
apart and turn their backs that their host's cau^hter tnc
the pilgrim may be undisturbed" (B November). Clement dcott,
in T.ae Daily Tele^rapy. ijlt the t the scene had been overproduced
:
The entrance of Romeo, his moody cio.-joction end
cepression, his unsatisfied love for Rosaline,
the banter of Mercutio ana his friends, his fir-t
introduction to Juliet, the instant s^mpcthy of
t..o hitherto isol: teo hearts - the very points
that Lite rt the interest of the play are lofet in
a maze of dancero, and maskers anu torches; of
restlessness, fever, and distracting movement until
we come to the absolute close of the first act.
which is as beautiful in icea as in execution*
Other revio j s dislikeo the costu es (TLe D^ > ,-.o) or the
music (The London Figaro), but r.iost acnitted ti.. t the sc-ne wes
v;ell-mr na i;_.uci. The choreography had been arrur in the scene, dcott iound her "seliconscious":
'**
,., .. »r?ssertivu iii hei steps antt demonstrative
iii he. attitudes, not the lively MO icon wane Grin.,
through th

209
less sctisfied, but the kissing hrd bee,., "still more
unpleasant" in Irving's version. Could any compromise be
found?
I crnnot but ,;ish thtt 'iss Anderson hrd been
pciviseu to orr,- n ;_,o the whole st- ^,e business of
this scene differently. The b.-sirios-j, es now arranged,
concentrates attention upon an action to
which only the noot skili'ul menagemont...and
the most delicate acting on the part of Komeo,
could possibly reconcile the tcst-j of «?, niocern
audience.
Humphreys perceived that change in soci; 1 conventions made
the passage difficult - lii.e the soliloquy and the tire, e,
displays of eifectption on st£ ,e were now associated with
fcrcn, then, to the change in sociel end. t; ettric? 1 CJf Ro ieo tnt
Juliet s.'as obliged to rssrult the phono^eucil sc-xu.. 1 p.i.ilijtinisn
oi the ^.n.;' lishritn.
one of the consequences of this tttituao v;; s th; t, k .hon
a nature actres^ ;-layed the part of Juliet, t'ie "love-j, ssages"
- as The Saturday Rsviev.1 pointed out - ''oetoiiorrtc^ri into :.•
iatri 0UG", and the youn^, girl bee :e a iiciv-erite u; utier.
rii^.t:: noted tii.-.t Juliet was "hardly a y >un l_. ... irl viiom -other.,
,,'julc: reconraenfi as t model to ti.eir df u^btc.-s", ; uci. t. < t it
w. s nocess; ry to nagniiy the pjiG^i^n >f the plc.y, ao as to
"forgive" her i or. arc boi aviour lo ,j JV^uber). A.C. S .»r. ,ae

210
notes the t "there seens little doubt th; t for e long time
Juliet vns not kissed on the lips"*^, and belen Faucit's
description of the scene, in her second letter on the
character, omits any mention oi lips: Juliet is kissed on
the hand:
The touch is gentle, the uvrds c re fev,; but that
touch of "palm to palm", those few morels, have an
eloquence nore persuasive ti;-n volumes of passionate
phrases. The beseechin0 eyes, the tremulous
voice full ol adoration anci humility - heve not
these spoken? The heart f s deepest me?.nin^s rarely
find utterance in words.-,, 34
The actress's prompt-cooy, from the mid-forties, reflects this
chaste reticence by omission of Romeo f s reference to hio li >s
(93-4) and tue deletion oi everything betveen 103 and 10£:
Romeo hts turely sug^estut the possibility of s kiss -
0, then clear saint, let lips do v/hc t hands col
They >rry: /_,ra..t t; ou, lest faith turn to despair.
- v/hen the Nurse breaks in, and informs Juliet that her mother
uishes to spe; k vith her (Folger Kpn, y - Shattuck 20). irving
and Mary Anderson g; ve the sequeuco without cuts, thou

211
of the ball at the end of the c.< rk cypressavenue,
c'nd in that piy ^ives the
following businesb for the end of the scene:
L.Cap Juliet.
Juliet on Stairs v ith Nurse.
L.Cap on top of strirs.
Boys put out lights.
It may be that the set ing eao the directions were ; Itereci
to allo ; ior shallower stages then th; t of the Lyceum - both
scene-endings strike the same note of wistiulness, MTK, the last
line is the Curse's "Come, let's away. The strangers are
all • one".
The act-encinc,s oi th^ production .ere marked by the
use of tc -blcjjiu-curtf.ins, but scene-chi n0es i ere accomplishes
during black-outs. The scener, v/c s built on liveable unils
and couk be struck ano set ith reasonable spued (cnc
presunj .jl/, orchestral accom >cr ni' ^eut) without lo, erin^ a
curt- in. Ben Greet, '- ho ;layec the A^othecr-r/, rener.ib^rec
this cs ;. n Aneric; n inniv, tion - "They could c.o it over tueie
..here they had electric li^ht in thertres yet rs before . o die.
O K
here"^^. It is not cle^r ho. .,ell ti.io Tiothod of st. ^eman:
^oment wa^ ,-. ca.jtect to the Lye our., . hich, in accordance
:ith Irvin0 's preference for i_^z, v;tsnot lit elec rxcclly -
working li^.hts r.ir y Lave been installed, but grs b;. t eiii: coulc.
iiOt be ci , ,ec fully cio ,n ..ithout e-rtin^uisiiing the ilaine
altogether. Irving's preference for dark scenes must hi ve
re quired r.Miy nec'r-blackours, but a fully dark stc^e can
o /I
: n ly h, ve been possible"3
jjoth Irving ond. Mary i ncerson o ittec. the G-.or.o before
the second ret, pnd both n^c o substrntially the a; me cuts i::
the si ort first ucene. ,..on:eo, me his first t.o lines, ere

absent in both. Fron the balcony uoene iV ry /\nderson cut
only live lines, ;>mi ryico tho ci.storvry tr; u;j,>Ooition oi
lines It,;. ~'-j to the be L ianiu c . oi the scene loll.o in,.. irv:Lat ,
me oe ti.o a; me trcina tjosition *-nci cut t.enty-t r«_;e linos. In
Ibo4 h.omeo lost tteo lines "be not her ma id. .."('/-;) with
t eir explicit sexu;>l reference , pad thoend oi' hio iin; 1
speech, ; ;hich stop ,ed at line 1^6. Irving reUine the conciuciin,,
couplet.
^.ccou.-ts of this balcony so.no ois :.»lr.y noru oi tho ^cn^r
dissatis£< ct: on p.. ovokea by .i-jis^i Aiicuruon's ( jorfornunce. ALQ
fjaturd&y Kevie-.j complain u th>t, instead of conveyintj Juliet f o
a,e, ierrs, t net pc.,sioncte t,rj.'C. i'cdo )toO ;t first the c 1 o iiii 1 st )_,"
:-r\ ici suiteci his .K.iiut bet ci^. ...ot s it l\in,r.nc julci co
i:ell to return to "t.:e r: r^ in^; vx;.c ',1th -'.ich b; ru^x: htl
eucovoo him". Lytton Si ^esU.c Li;, t ti >- scene should be
pleyea "lyricrlly r,- 1. or th? n or nrtie 'ly 1 .
The scoao oe^.-n, rccoioiaij, t-j the ;,e -ori pr r; ,t-co y,
i-i tae a rk. Koneo c; no over tho -.•fll,n3 v aces er^ .uo, re
;:J;.G t Jivi --ir'-^.ht Geen -;'S:-.iu0 on the otner sio . oi it. ,->s
Romeo cr uchec: by t i :o '..'^11, tic.; r.o ->n c. f;;e out. Juli .t f s iirat

213
appet ri'^co on the belcony '.;rs ooscribeo by j;U; ^htoyo: the
v;orcs "0 Romeo, Romeo!" .ere uttered "in t To tone T ith
f i ce upturned to the m on, ith h< nds crossoO, vt, ,>.ely
m r:.;uiln^ c^ninst ftte" £n
describes Juliet's attitude at 1L2-3,
S Got, SO .
Yet should I kill thee .ith much cheria, iri,_,,
s ;ol:en ith "passion;, to but t ac'er yearning" \;i ic. i-.cs
co.ivcyod by "her heir 1 llin^ loose over her iuch, rnc. li^r
pr" c^t "I have 101, ot
hy I die c- 11 the-j bf ck" (17 j.
liuraphro/ t; ou.^lit this see ;e f. c inviucii;^ c ••orrji.str,- tion
of tho iAir.cequ. cies oi Hiss Anderson 1 ^ v )ice , £uu it,, leek of
erotioruil depth:
A drec-Fi 01 love is b,;i;:,, >i ',.;.- ;:o..c to us, so
bec'utiiull.; presented t c t, surely, hrd , iss
Andei'oon's ;-cti.i, . ; :e^.n r :ure dumb-oi . ) , t'Cc •< ••._,; . i ,d
by the jiL-^i^J-.V-'-'^-^- i'ron Berlioz' dyipiony .:e
must hf.ve . .. " i'-.yo'. 1 its ro.: lit^ . out, j:t; it i,.-;,
e ;,£tch only hali-syn., t^oticf lly, lo i..iii
it;, beauty i'rom th^ outside, au*-, do aot d
jui-3^1 ves.
The ITJ key of tne scene, .it konuo by no mccUit; i.
hins^li, i,i;s in itc fcV.ur, for "upoi, sor/o people uo>,,o jt re

214
good deal". The Illustrated s_portin,.._ L -ua L'r^^tic j._e_. s i ,vai
Terriso almost completely ir eking in "self-abandonnent, and
i:is; Anderson deficient in sincerity 01 feeling:
she cannot thro v her hole heart into her x.ords
- perhaps because she has no heart to throw.
It concluded that the scene w, s altogether without sym .*. tactic
interest, merely a display of lighting technique and "elo^c.nt
clothes". Thus, inruspici rusly, enc.d the second act of the
performance.
The third act of the new or: ngement be^an v;ith 11.3: Irvin^'s
Act Three, Scene One had been thrt of the ori^inrl text. In
Miss Anderson f s production Edward Stirlin,^ made the Frisr
"just the kind, genirl sort of wriest in t/hom the lovers
v/ould confide., .instead of the pedantic, uncomfortable
persons .ve S3 often given upon the stt^e". To this ^raiso in
The Stage may be adoec Scott's conDondation:
The lines of Sh.- kosperre have selcorn been more
beautifully rnc correctly spoken.
Stirling T.cis a veterra, the husband of I-irs Stirli,^, and
evidently possessed of the; elocutionary ,jo ors for lack of
•;hich younger actors v er-. Ire [uently chestisjd in the yicso.
In the lollov/ing scene his wii^s oeilor-n,-ac^ ofx'orec. ; n >ther
example of mature technique - Mary Anderson ci.et,criuec to
Percy Alien he: uusiries., ?t; si.o preteat-cc to refuse P

215
"fruitless".
Tie next scene (11.5 - I-iis^ AnGerson's III.3; wa^
Caoulet fs uaiooii, ove^lookin, Verona, pai^tua ,y Ha.es
Graven - the ^e. York pron.jt-copy si.o s in ground-plan a
scene set to approximately a third of the stage's c'eoth,
ith a iouiitain st- ;e ri,: ht, e tree ith a be*^: do, u
centre and £ suncial, < ith another bench upst; ,_e on the
prompt side. A ili.ht jf steps is in ic; too ;t ti o b^ck,
to the (st^.e) left of the tree. Lytton considered the byplay
of Juliet and the Nurse "good in all particulars", uut
die not give any specific points, contenting himself -..ith
the observation that i4rs Stirling; • v; riec nearly all the
details of t ; e pa rt as last periorieo by her .it:., ms.;
Teri-y". The Letv York book incic^tus one pi-^co of business
l jr the uurse: ;ith TrLore, ho my he; a aches!" (i~,i etc.) she
dip,;jd her hf: mike re. iei i- the fount; iji. Tie s;- : .ie source
has Juliet pause, and "or., o, hiu^ i\ ce n ..-hen the old uoiii.-u
tells hoi- '-'Th re stays a husband to make y u a \ ifo" (o^,j.
Humphreys noted th. t the final line - "hie to i.i^h forttaie!
honest imrsu, fare ..ell" - vts spoken by Juliet "aancin, .
off cr^ iug shrilly and oeei'iu'ly .ich her lest touch ji
^irlish inoulsivcness", ^nothj •. e Y >rk pro. .pt-c->py inc. icatos
tjiat she ran ti\roi,; h th^ garden ^c-.t^ - downst-. ^c on the .i-o.'.i.
sioe in the ground olaa - and o; used to "kiss t rMU, h Oct.. n .
'i'iie dt L c* f ounc the , aiety ol Juliet afxecood, r.nd ocott ,.ati
olso aiss; tisiiea:
...the scenes ith the Nurse, with ell ti.oir
li,_,ht-Lecrtca, girlish tricks, l.or ,-etL.iu^, l,er
: >utiri;_, and her comedy.... e fine her.; tn
aci :-So imitating hat a ^irl in sucn a sitt.-: -ion
mi^ht do, not doiu^ .h;.t a e,irl uncioubtuuly docs.
Tliij is he. rc.ly tn illu'iia tin^ co::v.--i.t - upozi vhat e
does Jcott .oresuz:7e to c istin^uish b..t eea the posjio
and actualities of :; !• enly b^iavi:-u^? ± 11 ^11^61-. j f s
of the scene had sho..n "no little i rt" ,^_^_ - !- .:...--..;'-^; M^ hoc.
bue_. "aninii t-^c. ana ^r: cefu!" (r..-.c.' j £ nc; "aicli and i;itc3iin. "
(Vanity Fair). Critics oi i:iut3 Aiicorajn n /oe< ^ certain
iusii'.c,.ilty in-, this pa.t ol her oerfonv ...jo - ie,. i -jund h .r
"fcoyriess" to be a^ irresistible" as T-..O London Fi, ,ai'-- clai .

216
£i:c! DIVJ obse ver useci "arch" as ;.< term ol ;. p ./rovc I v i.ilst
others ra^cie it one 01 uisst tisitg ction.
The act ended uiti. II.6., sot in a cli; pel ' r.ci.lc/.c^iit to
the nom story" ^by La ;.;es Craven). As the scene crc, , to its
close, Romeo and Juliet bo_,aa t. eir marriage-service - n
i: in TV• t:lon of /hich The Ti-ies (3 November) approves:
Ins to c. of retiring to the \:±n s rnc ler.vin^ 'oh-
^er^orricUicc of the nuptiol ce, oi.j ;ay to the i ; .k
The reviev/er perhaps uncer .stinicites the intolliLJi'ic^ of tl.e
Lyceum audienco, but tlio U.ran-tjL^; v; s e respectable visLyl
enphads. It also >rjvidud ;\ tableau for the ; ct-u.-ci.^., he
bh;.es.o.re had si-ply cleyroc his sti. o for the on try o±
:j'ercutio L nc lienvolio in the next scene*
Act F ;ur opened OJ A O'^o:uior f s set of t^iu ri;.ci'. t< uc.-^e
at Ver~>n , ; ncl tiio scene (lil.lj encuc; \;itu "0 I am fjrtiaio f s
iool w (133), omitting the crrivel of i;he Gitir^jns and ti.o
.-Tiacj. This hac been Irving's policy. 3t. nc:;.^, rec'ee:iec
hinsolf a little i.: this 3ceno, ^iiriix e.n "ef •.uctivo" ccount
of Me-'cvtio's cef.th, in liic- Scott discervied "si, ...-, of
pathetic efiect dimly rnc !v f.ily su^^ested". Te:, r±-->^,
c../c >ito :n earlier tendency to tcmcness and unco/. —• cti^.._,
aven. -,d .ier>:;utio "-,1th p.cequrtu spirit ino r-picity 1 -' (The_
London t'if-;p.ro) - :n out : ?ur::,t -./sdch, Scott rei i- r: ec^, "rouswc
the caidiejiC-.. to enthusiasm", ihe lines bu^i ,iin,_ ' Aliv^! in
friunjhl and .'.ercutio slcinl" -,;ere, rccorciix, to ^l^^il.
filled \rith "electriCc-1 force", and '^ L-J :i ^y..-^ a xelt it
likely th-t he h>-o. hitherto restr£in..-fc "an olci toac ^.-ic^>.. »-c >
coliver toace. pcs:.r^s is ii h,> y cesc, ibu liin rs "quito
tror;ei:dous", ^nd ^_n£t_i-^ir obouivo^ tii t Ir-vin C'-t-lc iiiil

,17
c. nu.ii ni t e st, to a. v:j,e,,sud siniit'r
li it.- tions.
The next scene (IV. 2; vt jf thu news
ti.rt Romeo has killed Tybalt and be^n b aisheo. The,, i- : 1 . i.vj.1
y.ic'sotto, silo /in0 th, t tiiis '..^3 "orio of the Most difficult
and tryin^ passives in the ..iolo i\ A.- of the dr, HO", ,-xce,
regretfully tht.t , .is Ande:< ooa "boc no loud too oirly and
and remained loud too lo:i^ n . Less indulgent was the noti.ce in
1'_j;e 6 *,>.-., .^ t "/hie 1; clrin^u that, for al'i tho ±'r.mo of iiiss
And^rson's ' r ^_,r coiul attitudes", the "m'.Gt ardent of h.;r
p.d irers could scarcely contend the t she ij /^r, col'ul ior t.o
consecutive rniu.t s in this scene":
~Jhe :->t,. rt... viloly fron pi, ce to jl toco, DJ; t>j ho.
ariis against her sides, rnd ^ouor.-. lly beh; vo:-; in
r mffit frantic manner.
Lytton, rs e. rule an "oro.ent admirer", foiui little ole.' ^i^f.,
in the scene. The soliloquy, tr^allo j cpac^, y^u ficTj-i'; t^c
steeds", lc diet the "dre, my ciuc.lity" which he ielt ap.ro ri; tc :
Of coursj ta^ro is a ..oti- of exult at ii.vaticiiCo
tl.r:>i^,hout these lines, But it io n i::rj/ uio-icc
subf^uoc. to ecst: o , , mo. f.lt in tr< nee . ..ti.e
iuf 1 L.eacos of staia^t C'»K t. ili^ht iiuv^r ab jut
the .
She v.-oult L.- vo cChievec muc3: by beia- "mre r^cti'i;]. ".
hen the IjiirGo exclr-inet "Sh^nu come to i-,onoo!" (V^-),
Juliet's retort, "Blistered be t:>y tongue", -us iv^ri in an
attitrice "full of ci nity ; nt )0.or". Lytton felt ti.:"-s t:;
be a r.ic rkod contr ot t) the ti o.- trie- lity ;f some e.- r iei- :•
("..hat devil art ti :>u tii. t o >st t >r:.-o .t ;::c t;a-.G?" 5 ior ex, ;.^1^ /
At this p irit Le -:i-.s cii-otinctly c )iisci u.; 01 "the covolo,r ;r:t
in Juliet'^ chticCter", ^.hich he uX;jl£:iuou a^ "ti.o s'Li-u.i, :_O:Lin^
MK- ue^^ieiiin-. of it uno.wr the influence of or ssi a , aa.
sorro',:". At so & uns^ocii !•;•:. ,>:-int Juliet l, .ok up the c .TC-O
of the I^G er, r/id, saic Humphreys, "burie*.- b^. face _n ti on
:ith the naxirj 1 ex/ressio:: of brokvja-; >.;; rtoc, holpless.-.e s ' !
t, e cr tic founc ti is n^n r>f Acetic t -••!(.. er^o. 3 !; , uv.o bOj.^j
the auciio.ico laughed. The ootur\..- v uevie , ; f ter c«iib.._-ij\
.ont of '"to 1 -:,)erfj ce" in th

... .'lien Ju'ici, ;".s picked u by t]-.•..= hurco ±ro;;
the ;>r> .;i i.. 1 -~ ' -' , _
' c- I'i-j. ,_,j oi' tin, he d in oi",u_- t:.r t;:o txsut of «• 'cti ..L...CU, • ,t t: t, in the orxc, :>
The Ft' 11 l-lall - •.I'-ott/.o, she W-n n ;t C'K>J ''uuscrti oti out -^i
ti.e oro-i.-l".
ijVon t!..o indul|_., «, Jlu: unt ocott h- d .) ; ;.n 1:1 AQ to
c >" lenc jjllon Voi-r/'s t - ;rfor-n,- ac.; in i:.i. i>.'--J> oi ti^ j>l*y
Ihu o rlier oc^noi-. , G./eci/.l'y t ,^o.; T xth t. o i.ur^o, IVM
oe :, hij:ly succ^;.; ,. al , but tiie ne s of i'.o -..-o'o lr-:-i;!.L;>..:.;ont
raatie little im j*-.i; :;i m» /f't-tjj uo^in^ s;>;:u .a ri;a
i.o-/, it raf y uo o^.o^, iu iv ^^.oi;>3L© i/ > co-.-co.lvc
those •: ,i-.- to _ ';:-,..iji. :.: i« v' n .-. -losi. .jubfelu__. i-'r^Lur^c;: (.-..nsro .' v rer,, rL .1
on the r.. ti'.-l;'t Ji' 1 is - Ten- 's vr _ic '-a wal,. :
,-'>o..;-n^ i;.. c- llo*. ii 4 J.i t/o Jl the i,e....t-; o« Lvj
ret :•'::',;" ,u 7 s it-h tr t ..x:/ lik>^ -.n --i^js t c. -t -
co
A -o j> \-dtiV-, .-'a -ecv 1 t Is io s ~» .11 i- __
ti.c b.;o.-.o t; jl.-yv.:. "" u.uLju u i3ti' in j-' -
t, c L. --t-o y , <
u .) et* ir;.^ .1 t:-0 cct..,os-s ?. ..ty ii. f:^ iotchin^ ti.« -.^ciui
t^ic lino r J ^ouJ i

; 1
- o don't try". .eci oi-e'3 pictvri; 1 piif/lo^- points t) a
distinction. Lot* ^en tae t > act*os.es' picturesjue o':C uiqueu
the "poseo" :>f i'iiry Anderson ..ere pi, ced ;vi ,-.n,)hasy in
ur,o;j )i-.co. ;e no-.-e r>nd T).ve i\'het
t..:'jy always incliaod ta b , - atudijs for
jictures: but al i -ys .ithout ; ny of the
uui'e; lity of the ^osoi raoc ol, eric, it-h i.'.
mor-,; th. a ray model's j-- . . r,:a-3iveness.
i'i_ :- 1 j' c_ j ^. _ ^, 13 i^
The move ^ ito .;ere xot s, rauch f so ios, r-n "ord r(,.-- j/
soordn^ly s , or.tc.no ,as f lo " - in iy?^ _. _:K ; ... ^Ju^A^i ^-je
and everoiesG '.J-L this f?o- ,,PS i. cle uat -, . Tds,, AJICOL
i.i L ,]'tt i'i ci some coi i rt in tlbloiii - he :riust be ^?-S-.i^n u-j iti'jut boi n
riUo , c'. :d ^t> t '3 ScUffc; tinie a'.-' fji'j t!.:, t ;£; rL ti ri c>
Luii ersti:tc L-'.'O Ij.iita.;. .>c-jtt c ..: •-•->. ur_;i. iuii'^-oj to h^vo
31 cc^ ..(Joe. :
iLO . i'-.uj. '.-TS riOt ;:icli,= C lili, ii^I 1 tl-.u ".."t.
h_i;tv.. ic 1. lie tool;: the "neroai-e of £:n
unmade r ve" .,-ithout m,):i,^ & h-.U:/. =. uein.f
1,: uJU...
Irvin^ hc-c. cvt thirty-t, re-j lines iii tae -jeane, t ..• j aoG
Anderson'-. seventy - t-.e cuto r^ke f.oneo j-n-^ i\;.- soiv. b'ie,
t nU r^i.iuvc his 'ot i.nv/lvoc C'nc . iiii/i-oiccl utt^i'^.co..; ('i'
;.i; y do thi;-j, b-t I ir;'U tiiis must i'iy' r , one tr e envy ji' c;t.,
('o, s and niic-j bei^^, jrrticulerly Ir ,ucc u,'on).
Lytt Jii cOi., ,i'.- -.j.ed ti e seco.n b;'>.Icony ^cene } nicuj Uj
omission .'i vhe scene bet e ,:« ff.ris :no Juliet's pe.i\>-/.t,.,
the cmeltsion i Hi ,3, to b- the point tt i i-.ici. i-is..
jtnaei-son recCh.,u ' tn- purest poetry of t .neei ness cr ru >c 3^.2. 11
: er^ av^ry to.'.e, every -i o >i , w'/.^y tje3ti..--e,
seei'i -ci to"me exactly Iv.t ti ey S L: ulc be,
pnr inV'.:ot-jc v?it.!; r >oetic oe ;th oi ieelim.
.ich I h< vu never bei.ro 30,11 tiiveu t.i:en

ia t.-is scene.
In c; be f L.n ac-r evacuee oi Juliet's n< turit/ ore c lied lor,
it .as .ui'^reu iu thia scene, j.iss r.riv.ui'x, ;a 's ams v;erc
cbvut Terriss M^n thw curtnia rose, ana ho . c .c, h. 11'- c y ;v>..r
the eo.;.e of the balcony. Lytt -n felt the embr, • ce to be r:.ft
.if c xiie, a >, s.jion te, t.mde , devotee woman", -nc not t....et
of a chile, 4 The "poetry" of tuo scene lay, lor Lytto , in its
combining oethos _th delicrt: sensuality - he admireo. "the
:a3sim--to terror do jj.cted in the >:jrn;n f s free" ?,•; she juoi.od
Romeo iron her "ith ti-o forcis "Lie th^o, be—one 1" ( a r'i:;-
motction of his o-.:n i.i" .tion). /.1th m,J: >t!\ors hr.c :c:asoa
the actress of over-pi? ying the .t^ss;. ._.e, Lytton could only
rdiiiru it . execution":
revulsion of fo^li:^ in t:io tone of the
orcis
w/ii-t o^ou t . "n te s>, i.iy lov- , ny lore., ; ;y irio,:;. '. "
-'U t^i'.iO c.nci aitj^uLj liin, tinj ^cS
tj.i; city "jf tiio embr ce v/ith v:hicii sl.c
to him "h'-n he r.;- i^ars, the G :ri3^ of c . oolr-.ti
tiX -'i'e3.-.ec iri tii^ . 11
"1 ah, 11 be i:iL-.ch in y&i rs
jLii'c j. *-'•>_J. • '-i^-' ' ..--i-oAt ! J-O.1* .j. o ti..-iv^^>
Ms head b,jb eun her hrnds, or; s it to her, one
l-juivtj into hii fo-ct; i'o ti-o
"ij tv.iii'.st t.'..d>u ;e shall ev.,r nuot i.._.ai
ti:e /TJ infj exorossi ii of u >,,bt , feich jro
tho ". oix.. .

V
The cujtogary b tineas, rhich t...e lines - ould c^em t, cornincl,
• r.o t> at Romeo sh rule £;lrei^ h; ve bo^.n his descent. The
btcu,e Deserve;. th; t b O..KJO Itad his t.e ;.. : . Juliet's lep at
ti.is joint, nich m, : keo better sense, : ric the conflict of this
t.ith Humphreys' s r..rn:rks rn< y be t e consequence oj. elt&i.tions
in the business during the course of the run. The physic,- 1
intimacies of the scene ero not lc*=t on the i/unch critic,
••ho found then reminiscent of "an rovert.-i.^, -ont for ^err'u
k
Loap c'vic Ar: osy Brace::". Current ; c>vc:rtj. orient, for the htter
shovveu to youths v re. tlir^, , ci.riberlr.ra -i; •shion, '. ith &
crption roniatiii.^ reattr:- ti ; t "the youth of f> : .cie:;t ano
nocer- countries find th^ /.r,_osy Brrce inc'is -je ..i'.ible in
pti Ictic exercises"; fec.r'i ooa..- ;jroclai ; :ec L i rise If \ ith f
scries of en.^.rc1 vin^.s dep:?cti^.. t s innocent ic,tj.: c ci^s of
bet hint, inf:ato. T..e irr-jluvi-nt rssocittivus v;ui-^ , ^u^cii
iound, a cojisoquonco ";i ,, -.i-^.>t Ai-t" in tl;^. ;• ctia. jj.
s. em 'Ais:> Anoerson, "i u^an^,, tv lt,so:n^ : :nd clia, in^".
T h e ? & 1 1 HC 1 1 __Gp _g e t to v.r.o siriil rly u:-r:uvoc, enc "missed tlv^
tr-e lyric i'e v^r 1 ' ^i th..- frr^v/ells.
At line 64 - Lcay Cr;/ulet f 3 cell, "liO, ecu ,?te .' j. -ro
you up?" - ti'.c set S'-LH^, ro,,rn , trrnsjtornin^, itself inf ul i.
vie of the. fiK'.ier.c. into th^ ii.tori ;r oi Ji. ]iot's bee. room,
Lytt in founc tliis of fee- plef ;in,i :
' hen Po oo -t last c'ep; t ., 'Juliet sin^s ao .n
i's if Lei 1 lixe L:'d leit her ioL ia ,i'cso,'Cc.
L.I.. is a ^oi'-oct.y n-t^rol c'.ction. it is ;:"'bV'
vor., effective. But it hrs be.,n rj oiculec' by
to ii; ,-sp; por critics, because, inot^.:. L. jf pi'.;l;i.:^,
hcr£-1i u^ rnc. cc liber? to ly cl:l._ -i-.t 01 the
brlcony (^-],:cV rould h?vi it),
3ho is inst; ntly ',:ith rf :r. ir - 1 u:. [t by an
ingenious revolution of the oc^n-iry.
Tlvis i/rs "c coT.X'ncible ot ^.e arr: n^encnt 15 , £.ncj one. in v.Jiich
t e "in^e^.L.ity of the St.- ^ rnocl.&nist" UC.G "1 .^i, i^t.tol,/
omploy-c". i;..o .-.ILL, ..hich cic n^t rpprovj oi t; o i •; ;Vc,ti'-a.
i'olt it

2; 2
"picture" i^ruc as to ; ct-c'rop iell, recocent for th_< action, no Acelaioe
weilson had raid; c not. ble point of the coll pso, but m< ny
reviewers felt Miss Anderson's >rostr; tion exces ively
violent. ..estlrnc t .- rston cLsscribua, inlfitL, thu business
used by - iss Weilson in Ib7u:
As Romeo ciissr^eareo, he, extoncui. ;or to ia. des er.' tuly a !..eitiii, s'):!.- jc:Iiiiul
iuf lict.i >:i «-hici- s y kno.-.s to o--> ii.evite-olo, ciic.
yet ith c-n irx\-,;;istible .,1-rir.ki!^ ir:r. tliO scrutiny
of thu unsyn .•; tiiis:-)itj oyes si:o is no to ri.,ut,
"Mcidaa, I am not ,.oll n w? s spoken ;. ith a "toucl.in0 simplicity",
after i-hich sl'^ Sc>n!; onto the bac "in an rttitut.u r£ pryi?/,.:ic
ces rmc^icoy 11 . Juliet re per tec. L; y Go :ulet 's "villt in",
,-ith a ..3tr.-- n,,e reflective te.. cor. ess, as if tho
harshest e dt;..«t, hen coioloc ;.ii.h t.^j be love i;
m-ne, bee, me to her t ter.i of -nco, rr 3 it.
Lere, Lyttoa xelt, "a CT lonplac^ ic r^s :,;oulc. have echoeu
the insulting v ore. in ton ;s oi i.^ i m tion". » IG... A:ic,-.ryon»s
Juliet sr.n

2;ij
ne: rly betrayed her r~al le.lin t> i or ^onco :jy a ";. ilci
striking out of th>j viriz" at "Ay, r^ic^n, fron the re; cL of
tl.ese ray h nds", ^ nu the "pityino and pitiable tone" ith
. hich she uttereo ",,ould none but I ni^ht ven^e my cousin's
derti:". More siyis oi a.,M,uuiii^ m; turity .,cro se..n in her
reaction to tho ri_ s of Paris* .>r aspects as e suitor:
Tho listloo brokua-h,,; rt ,i> Juliet is re.jlc ced by
coi, it_., co .erin ii ure str; i, .i.t
itseli u, to its full hoi, ht; the countenance i^
sufi^.s.,-. with heroic ani- ;ttion; ti-eix is c bei.utii'ul
scorn in the curl of the closi^ li_j rut, the i lash
of the steady eyes. The Ion ._, hite sleeves .ae, .:ith ' c Ir.iauss
ii liiiitoly ii»re ii-ect:'.n0 thfai iny ^o^ciculru
b., •
But Ca.ulet'o behc^viour ; s so violent - he threv,- Juliet to
the ,. .roiiii' - tl c- t, her re traint ^rve ^Ircu to "£• c:t.iit,..MunC'.:
full oi ',• thetic be i'c.urmont, co ii otu..:.aec f'j'.c •t^ttorin^
an^n0st the incomprehensible sur >riseb of sone i;orr.ible
drofr;". ,'fter the "besoocl'dii; , toils'-1 of "0 .y ;.;,:e.:t notherl
c; st ne /ot ;:^&yl, rnd th.; exit of the obiurfo.. Cc -uiots,
Juliet ilL.n,,. herseli i. .to the Murt3^ f a c no. 'iiiis VK.S,
thought Lyt .o L, r tolli..;, i-^vuro.- I .^1 t..e pl.-y»s ;-;.- turiat_,
^rocess - T!i :>r one e::q>-.i^it. uo/iont" Juliet i r^ i Oi in a
Chile, end s: * r!n .otlet h^r c ol: a^i^st tie olu o;un f c
".
The .L.estt-.r- m; c.« J-liot's e^Si-.in.,. ti. ;j ..ot, at t, o nnr^u'

c cy oi Subr, s ion all the no re siiockin,,, cue th« rejection
of tno advic..; -.as c^ne "not vehe .eutly, but f_.e.;tly
and s-itly, ,.ith a pathetic re^roachfuLies. .". ihe .;rn. oi' tlu
scone seo-^c particularly cordraole :
Left alouo, oLo strricis silent, t..e i:.u u >i misery;
anc riot ti}l the ooor closes behind the Nv.rsu, coos
her .ent-u j >as.;ion burst forth in the cry
" ucient oa;i ,cu ionl
0 most wicked i'rie:.ci! n
Tic oflect is deici-^. ,11 the feeliu c '.hich lu ve
oeua vorkin^ • ithin her tM-ou hout t- is cC'dr^ble
scene se-ra to line utterance ..a th- 1 scon. c,nc>
anguish of thrt cr, .
Left alono m otr, j, she hastily flun, on t t;r biuoclori:,
anc , turnin^ to open tho c!O>r, ^rj^-ntoi h.r back ;l ;nc to
t::o eiu ionco : but t ; .o ";\ itation of her fe ^lia-.s" x;es
visible in "t.; e romulous riovo.ient" ith ^-liich Juliet clutched
at the door h; ndle , and "impressively euoible" in the tx..
of "concentre tec passion" ith : hich she uttered the vorcs,
"If f.ll els. fail, myself h- ve >o.;er to tie". This,
clci:::oc' Ly:..ton,"sho :. ea a c;;p; city to "express at m,L , i-ielia,-,
..'ithout movin^ a linb", c'nc the ;0 er " f st, auin^, still
ith .jericct . rrc^", rs v.ellas bein, n-joi^of j^iso Aaooro .i e "iear of

225
Ijaeli-.c-s^" expressed by i- 3uiifeni>> tJ o. the Il;:i0s and a
u.r.- i u 1 oc llor in the i c,: hclen Fcucit aeocrioeo ,.e o..n
ieeiia^s »v..ilst lisu^ni .; to t*;e i^urse',,. praise oi' Pi-ris ii.
j.^ci.voly these t .-.?;.&,
All r;y blooa se^od ,o be forces beck ux>n r;y
heart eii I listenou to the ye words. I ^,rw. f-s
Lit 'li-..-. • * •
In her re< ciri : , oi ti.o ;rt, Juliet's absolute ;..on; ru.o >c- hi a
cone - ns ! e is ti-. nsi'i, urea intothe heroic vom-n", raio ti.^
change i., reilect^. in h-^r treatment jl the faura,, «-I;G, i:i tho
T;:e new ^£..is, uniortunat.oly, v/i s r rom^ kr >ly feeble",
but the most in ;ortc at el, .:.t in the ^cene r^vur to be
JuUet*s eel;;, deteiTu nation. ; -c -.vral ng to The i^.ll ijj^
!» /-is,- Anaerson we a "M,: arable" bee fuse she re1i,c-.
" h.:t iti in ro, lity ae^ >jculi; r ^ii't, - to ..it, ; e.r
iles:.- ra,• i;iyuletiun oi' ' e- dr: .j .-id^-.j", T..o jl y f.ovja
directly iror-; IV,1 t the ^e.. IV,oj to IV«j>, aio_;.jin t^e
s ort ocene 01 Juliet's eo cr^:.t suiDmis^ion to C; ji,let.
Irvin^'s i/;.-i-t cct c "Hji^c.;* oi Juliet's visit to t: ^
Fri, tiiw .t-i r, aceii- uV.^.;, ; ;,.: nui-a^ fs
discovery ••£ the "boc y" (I t ^). I :.3- Ancerson's ioui'oa c/ct
•-•Co in ito sixth scene oy tj,.e tir.._! Juliet, '..ent to tho cu i i, r.
its ^-vonth eno concl^oirit, scono !;s th.- t in /ic -Jv.Ii.i>
tc'TCti t.iu -^r u, i.t« The c-ct -.need it.h ti.e T ,orc.G s;'i-.o:u,.;o, ^
c,;;e» ihis cio I drink to t eeJ'f (c iii\3t iu^rto re; cdr^.,
clso usu by Irvin^J, t..c /,ct live oc, , a, or V.CL; to ,j vo
oe0 Ui;, -.ith Juliet *a iuaeral, i.jllo oc by t> o . * ;-_tu- GCJ:.. «
The t^ctin oi 1 tru.. ooti n sceiiC noi"ji.iuea v,. u a 'jct< ^ ^..i
to an e.-ti
com ciidatory ccacri.jti- in >i the ouk.i;-.>eo:j t
ihere oiv .-til" n?.-r:y ;1 y c,oers .ho c i: oil
r-.-.-. .c^r hc-n Juliet's ,ir"jlun, et. oi ri ;i: ;f
terror w ^ n_r^ i jr tho lir-.t ti:.o i trocucuc.
j.t ... s bo-^n ob;»_otoc. to i;i v- i^., ;;i']o it i.e.^.
»r bocyc nore st-.idil .'nc /Ji'-j /r--! ... itJocu
i^'.^-.s u.i^uooti n b^y v;>:jc;.;o itj ,.-o- c_'^ ---
. ay ,..&,; baulKes, n ^f.^.rc.; y v...i':, 01 'i c:lr
-uoti &'iisnoci 2i Li,t. /isu /in* .,r..-j- cro 1-;. .o
e ,.-ei\,f, fiTiCicti it.;, cr^ .,^-.c. c j«ir":- -Ice-L-U.
st ; tii-i'il :>i hon 1 ,:/ t> «,i-o o.j^c^.. «-*r^. i.c
.1 i 11 u .-0*1 thu buc b el; • i >, i-h :.^' ^ c

26
.
to• or^o the spocc t:>r..:> L+IH. r.cr b,..e-*i. tr-sseo
hen&iiit, t t;.-a £,r •*•,._< , prrt. ooh per is pa r t e.
noio i the ntture ,•! jn scrob tic ios t t ; .. . i.3
i-.t^.i^cc. I ei ,r~vi ;us crini.i. jf ti.u era., ht,
ho; vor, vr..., ccon. :.j(' "1th t:'*i rp ^oori^te
cclriiiooo of . ,:tur:-i . tion. Thr u, ;.-.o,.t t.'.e scc^o
i.QT Ce, , i i,_ tnc. ci^ri. tod cttit.-c.^a ur-,
;.-triLiat,ly icturesi,,o o s -i- :>• lul i -'O il , erric/it i
ti.G J.i-C_, . jhu Cl -'.j .'.:•:; 3 t/i - St ,_C t > t^ c u..u CU.tcil.i
jf •'. o-» , t, i.'-j u .ho -.si.- ii, Sit- co ii,
lilt., 1- ^ pJ-.i 1 to hjr I'ps^ut. A.t i': L :y itb ;
littlo'«fo ,ivor, «• s ->n-, it; - ful tiou.nt tit«r .• ;: .t or
,;.oo^it it.,eii i) iior .due. oo,_t o, , _ tuo
;.'i3 j^r >u.> , £.. ~- ti'uck t Jii- J^ "* ic . .
t. i;.; joi:^ , things bo t ,in t: ,.^ -.•,r'->ntj :
oho risos, r, Gr.ofj c-bout tre k:t ., r i-t , i 3cr. a,
loavj 11 c.i, ni&y,i'll p t: '••->_>, OOCO.,.G.- t u ti-ic- 1,_
c jnv^-.ti .n; '1 i/ tr ic, i.Ji j i .^iiwCoiV- , ; in. ru^n^
t..e 3jr:timent oit; sco.-j _y t j; ini..i r^ c .; -
U;IL . r tii'^ tyn.-.. ,:y Jl t -; o.-st L.r L iri Jiio jf ti,oj
^n-, 'i'^i! str,.c .

2,7
IjilMp s>.t.urdgy uovie.. objected to iss Anaerso^.'s "ru" ly pltyint,
with her ioroictuers 1 joints" ci3 she ink .uc;; in hi iw:-o oi
a jeriorjnsa'.cd oy utelle Colts,at the . ri-^coso's 'iik.,e^ ;.^ in
ltt>4. I-'lle. Col; s hro pi:, y^-c Juliet too seli-c xioji usly,
..ith the air >i o co .uette - hei- i>uui .us ia ti.io scene
M*y * • iio c rs o n * s :
hen Wllo. oolrs t; koti a ,:jr,;f t jci'Oin ,-. t t..o
eirvst oi 1^'b It, MU; Hies c.,..u crouches
;.o if she iv.'Ulti tcre reluct; uru;Of tr-o bw ,
t;.ea nucules ; n/ri.o. over ti.e last, line, ttikos
the poiojfi, MIC ,_,otc3 i^t, ood oo b^sv 3/i., Ci..,
she r;. y ^ria,_ ,._,ror', fi_;pl^ ut>u irm ra c^a. ioriCc-t
tuo : rJ.-•.oea^'u but uro is iut i-otin^, obri o--
. .ijec ;.iit. ^. -),,n0 t^iT.: .a -,:.z.^ p
h,va ro; Ciicci cl-a^x, rox,o ', ;i'.L;. : , 1.: !-;un s. >j O a to x -
t o iiitori >r 01 vi^u t -:•. ohe D- G.J c n.t.^ol. ,rj.^ j±
ii-(jusin.._ hor. or" ./iti; Lich "si:e L> .un0 t^/u-.c, i-3 )n c .
;,-• ntlL.) oCi.e-.iia. h.r uy^^, ix if -uooilin iron: 11:0 ^i c n..
hie. yvjt icsciiic twc ijor, of xyuclt'^ i-.; ,.IAUV oh. ,^ o^:.
hoi'"^1 . ^11_.. i ri~r;v f s uook a rr.a ti o !i.*u ' AU i-iti: c clutiiQL
out ny c;«s.. ..'«u.c .rcli.o" (>,} ct, t. e cli:::. x ji l-r^ s-
iau t;-j 1. at ioui- liaos j.r-j :ri,-...r-uv "cp^ros^iJii Oi t . •._;.-1;.;. r

Uiot belor-/". 'iho i.t i'iy ,.o _o . (v i,&rc;i L. ) descri oc
the crln ;t the ^no oi the scene, i'. h Juliet ; s.:.:.kin u > .11
t: e bed, ki.,ai::0 t, o rin , i hie' is tie cherisheo token oi'
i er tud.011, vhilcj the dc-/n is seen ti.r u t ,h th« ret.t l:tticeo
casement, ^'t ^riut strength in the horiz >n". Vanity fcir
thought the t i:iu. Terry heel t ken the h^lo scene too slo ly,
and thot L-er -uovoi.ents ero l!to > uviciciitl^ ^toci^c": r^; in,
...cry Ancierson t^ok r_ sks ith & >ra , co th't her >r ecessor
hau uncorpi. yet,,
The filth c ct ol t; ^ 166-4 vorsion .- s to h, ve ^o&uu it!;
a r>, jre^^nt. ti'jn ji Juliet*^ ±auc.-el proiuu i n, .o^ciibcd
oy ,.infeliela iu idij ii:,.^.. vie.-»r :
i.ere tjits bocy oi Juliet, rjo-^c. in a ^r^~,± oi
oilver tls e, ill be c r:i,c on c purple
crnopie^ bier iollov.uG by a (_ro: t cr^.t,, ^ euoiii^
cno. thrj.ini, fl:Kors ov-r ti.o c-r.jS^.,
-ucL a ^rjcos ion h.. c bc-n & ici-.tur.- -j± utrrick'^ .---c.-o^ion,
one h< c . rouse c some f.r, ur^ ;-;t £s to t:^ I ; c,itii.ic cy oi
s Jo-jt-; cular inter .-olcti .rio in .^h; Lu^per.r-.. ! s .,!< ^s. /• yror.i-tc
i jy ir^r.1 I'/tC, n^". ia ije.; Yon. ..-..Dlic Library, lists ti/irt^t.o
in..i\.-r. , pluo t-h-. eh -i'^tj" i oho ti^c-tre c-ac t! t .*. tcy "GO
lie i or Juiiet", e :C sets t !.(..• ,.holu b^oiutii; in i "hfcll" >r".
A uerr:^ n visito;-, J;.i l..,tl jo ^yliuti, i.o sf i.icr's riv^.l
version c't Covn v.ou]c r..-. v- o O: d -u,-ly oi^tr.
for joint; pi; c^t citor, : f tror t, ca b.ior , t. o iut.rv.l,
curi: J;_, c.,,ich tho orohost.rc , v.ith t:..e h; p jy .ior.j,,;ia ol
tr m^.ti'j oroyi^tivis so co:-'r:j.- j /. /ictori^ :: t. .:. vi . ...--C,

229
played Lauder's "Summer Night in I\ior ey" (the other music on
the programme induces the overture to Rosamunde. .rt to pltco round, h^r neck the liieless
arm oi her husb. nd, on hose breast si.e h: s t. ro n herself to
dio". The Lond n Fi; i"Q tb jut,ht thi.t sh-j e-. lore., "v.lti. i.uiaitc
elegf^cu 1', '
Lytton, is usurl, gj.ves the i^llo^t c.nc ,.^,t Sj m_ji ti.etic
rcc )ur:t. ->f the Bctr.ss's bujineso. The find touches .ere
gooc", ,r.na furti.or^a the "co >st ntly ao . uuin^
i.os" end ncturity of the ch-u cter - at first she presentee
impulsive ^nu ne. r-hy:,cerical reaction t'j Juli'.;t*s
:
ithout deserting fro^. the tuxt, all tr«

230
oi lc%uo lor icor^oo tnu the revive Juliut\ is
procure, by t o little, silent, unobserved,
reckoning ..ustures widci Msa Anderson ^ives
to her Juliet Just before Romeo drinks thai poison
The gesture itsell is also very oretty ana n tcrt
B^t he-- n; ..ter-t uci-Gs oi feelinu bo e .in vith the
discovery of her husband's de; a body. The \ ild
impulse with v-hich she rushes to it, kneels above
it, tti.es t; e dead }-.&. a in both Junes, end L^?G^
into the dead face as ii the intensity of tact
t-,a. e coulx .in back to li. e the spirit so
ireshly fled; then t, e holies scry v.ith w.ich
she t' ro,,s herself upon the body, the &:^o:dsoo
iioolity i,.iLh .hie;, s. u cO, r«sses :.^r de^.o l^ra,
the sttrt U;cn si ^ he; s the ,.;tch, ti-u stab, t...e
fall - in ti is succession oi .vasuiOi^.to stroKes
t. are is t const ntly ce^^eaing pathos.
Juliet's dyint, r -.orients v/^re , b/ contrcot, eacpr^-ssive of tho
loving dependence on Horaeo v fcich Lytton conceivou to be a
of emotion; 1 maturity:
The cli c.x is retchec ; i e,., hcvin^ icllen ,• t a
little aist ^^ce from honoo, she r: ioe., h^r i.^^a,
faintly, searches with t. lojl:, z& oi eyes ti.at
are ffst , i'o iu c,i :, ior Ids GO c bodyj
creeps softly close t. it, teacorly liits thu
L.e.'K, m.n's fr::;, ana pi/ cas it f r )un-,. her neck,
nestlinc, hex Le;-t iru.o the fold oi it; tron,
..ith t s«*tiiiiici. oi c h :>i
The ce^th-acou^ v: s .ell received: . rch_r, 10 ru c serious
reserve tion^ :ni Eiost of I is. Anaer^oa's poi-i ^rr.,- uco , folt that
"i.or rr-ro grace oi ^esture" C; me to her c ici in this pasoc^,.,
li

231
ana n:>t glaringly unmedieval i in its pi; c«j i iA t, e r;;.-
atmosphere oi Romeo cnc Juliet". Cc'.rpi ccio»s St. brsul,
series, far from repreoent.iu,., the f ,: snion.:; oi the e e- rly
tiiirteen-hunareds , was pinted bet e .n l,
..infield's pretensions ver^, Archer su^.ested, illand
irrelevant. This contention is t&ken even further in tm
article in Th> uent lemon's i^fefaaine lor ivove.iber,
44^ -oj. here Archer claims the ^oo^r yhic.. 1 i nd
indepencence oi the play:
..ht-.t ohakespeare designed to j^iut, in vivid but
periectly ,_e;ier; 1 hues, v;es en ice; 1 land of lov

232
arausea .
The merry-anarew" - Goethe's "Lujti^s, r'ers -n" - MJ .ears to
be ..in&field, although ^cott's cetera /cion of ^oet, i < n; Oer
end Cloit quite correct, j.owever,
tr.e restraint of The Jaily Tele^ra^h v/ay ciisctrood in a
brief notice &p et rin^ anonymously in The Theatre (December
1864) -n the general editorial section, 'wur ^mriious-.o;: 1'.
Although unsigned, this appears to be by Scott, presenting in
a ra >re direct manner the criticisms of hi,, first-nibht revie. :
The ;uebtion is no longer ho this or that
character is ^h; kospe; re ou6ht to bo ^layeo,
but ho., much rr^auy c; :i be spent onthi:.; or
that scene.. .Juliet mry smirk va.^n snu should
bu n.'tur&l; Roiaeo be sulky ,};ero iound tu; ti;etic ;
but £'11 these f'.ro :; ,thiii£, in thos-. u; JL , ],on
a play by oh. ke^pe .- rs is reducec to the level
of t:ii ordinary s..o j'l y or noloc«rc-.n; .
rih^ i.ctinto ..!e-s of the poo.e^t, andthe critic i.. a liov^i- o_;n
ti:e play "roav-oroo in sucr. a listless aiio uair; Oiru
fts-i>it"» The letoin laay, er fault- liste,. rut,
10 ooscriu^o &ia "an a:.i>itijs, popular, beautiiul ana selicoaiicerit
laay, but m> f r from Juliet a- o t rK^es^ ir n o. n n
- in The Dei ly Te ly.^r ....... -i . > I-USus ^nuerson wat> iiioiutc.!.^^- to bo
!:« . . .st iiu._,t; tj aiio f ; ultj. in
1.1 jvurjent' of .: 11 nooer.i actixs. e, , c..»^ ".inytLia^ out Juliet
iu appeart-iic.-, ^nt j-x^rus ion, or in ruture". In toot., .uvie s
it vfc.ii sug^eotoa t:i t irviii.,,'^ .u'ouuction h; u o.ui- ,11 that
vjt!i> c^tsrtble for the .jlt-y, end, elio ia^, j. JT ti o unu^.iiaol'j
be, uty of .irt^iielc. 's &.nc. u'Joi.nor's Gusi 0Uo, yht; iiu cost..
Sc;t.- and . cti jn er^ & subotit.t- ior oCtin^ - f< c- :j:^oicni,,
..ot a play".
If Scott cic. ,»ot . i'ite.. ti.e n;tic~ in j,j..e__> ..PC tr^., he
cei tfr.ialy c ^.iiteitfiicou its c!p_;eru-t. ce in an e^it u-_c 1
col.n,n. iss /vnderson hiu. , >a dia :-.,.. rr-jtt auc ..c.a.-.izeic>- , t
conviction tri; t ti",e critic u?b s^ujrnuc L>y .irvij'^ into \ r^ti
do. n t..-i off rts jf r.Vcl^. In «U.nu- ry Jti4 sha h? •. v.ritton
to winter:
Gle;.ient Scott n;^ tre tec .ci r,^ -..ef usly iron
tiio first. I con't kuo - i^ nor uo 1 i.ioh
to - he -c-a rccuboG o; -,e_ix. l're,j._ t '.
:.;o r;y dosurts In r cK-b r .or;, L ;.- ovc
ago ...

233
Scott had b.Gii un

234
comings, the new Romeo and Juliet succe cie in termb oi at
least :>;>e: It r; n until Miss /^aei'son'a set,son enced, on
21 February It85. I.ean.iilo nln, ,iield \.vs orkirie on
another attempt to take the monopoly of cl

235
Chapter Five:
WINGFIELD AT IP AS YOU LIKE IT : THE ST. J ALIENS THEATRE, 1385.

236
On January 4, 1884 The Times had published ito annual recount
of "The Drama". James Ferguoon iiisbet, the pap r's cTiief clrnmatic
correspondent, expressed the opinion thtvt the "renaissance"
of the drama, now alleged to be unc er way, co ad more properly
be attributed to "the cl EC connection now established between
art and the stage, the growth of an educated t ate, and the
diffusion among c.ll clcoaeo of p. keen intereot in the drama
and its profeeeorc", than to any improvement in the quality
of -olayc. On the other hand, he had to Concede that "spectacular
sensationalism" had fallen into disrepute, and that "artistic
taste" wan now employed to an extent unknown before in the
mounting of relays. Clcu^i?n,at the Princess's, was r> good
example of this praiseworthy tendency: likewise The Ilaymarket,
St. James's and Court Theatreo he'd dictinguiche'' themselves
"for the completeness, beauty, and correctness of their interiors,
and the exact costuming of their d r amntie porconae".
In 1885 ilisbet's ; U..M. ,ry of . ramntic events showed that
this enthusiasm had abated:
If the yo; r juct closed is to enjoy any diotiaction
in the annals of the ctr.ge, it v.ill be noted for
the prodigality of its cconic dicpl.vy, and the
degree of perfection to which the ; rt of the miseen-sce'nei
has been carried. There is lit ;le else
to b@ placed to its credit.
(Timcc, 7 January 1885)
Tv.o major Droductions of LihtLkcopoarean c?roma hn.d boon ctcged
r.t Hoct End thoc''treL, "whore the merits of the actiiv; al-.->ne
could hardly be truoteO to ensure their ^UCCGSG". .-rretfa
performance of Hamlet Iv d been energetic and intelligent but
wrote I.isbet, \voefully eccentric, v.hilot rry Anderson's
Juliet woe "of ctill cnrller account rrticticclly". Irvinc hrC_
presented iv/olftli Tii^ht during the ye^r, but hie Mrlvolio h.-c1
been "quaint and curious, -;itliout bcinr rror-t", c.nd the habitual
beauties of the r;tr "o- / : nc ' oivicnt h.-. d not ourjtnined a rtlry
•which Kisbet found "li. ;lit and : i:ctcliy". Apart frora a revive 1,
earlier in the yc-r, of tlio Lyccun .C-uch v o About Nothing (fir, t
ceen in October, 182) there had been little to encourage
optimism for the future of Sh:i!:c pe^rcrn actv..c. Sc.lvini and
Sarnh Bernhrrtit h d appeared in ,h.ort acoconc of clac.-icj?.l and
contemporary nlaye, but their efforts wore hnrdly . irrnc of t.'ie

237
British dramatic renaissance. To 'William Archer it seemed
that 5h ke peare had been, ever since Irving'e ^ ralot, "the
mediator, as it were, between society and the stage", and that
the current vogue for Shake: pearean production, r.l though
"unreasoning", had . t least "induced in the world of letters,
art and fashion, the habit of theatre- ;oing". The Lyceum and
the Princess's were now as much topics of conversation "at
every well-regulated aesthetic tea" DO the Grosvenor Gallery
and the "popular concerts". But there was still a lc:ck of
trained actors, able to speak Shakespeare's verse, and the
writers who might revive the drama were yet to be found. 2
i« The St« James's and the Dramatic Renaissance.
The management of John Hare and W.H.Kendal at the St, Jamec's
Theatre was looked to for a contribution to the improvement
of the drama. Like the Bancrofts, the Kendale found themselves
short of new material after Robertson's death, and turned to
adaptations of Sardou, revivals of Kobertson and occasional
forays into literary drama. Pour of Pinero's c crly plays were
produced: The Money Si-dnner (8 January 1881), The Squire (29
Deomber 1881), i'ayfair (after Sardou*s Fnison Neuve, 31 October
1885) and The Hobby-IIoroe (25 October 1886).
The presentation of such works entailed the meintainance
of Robertsonian standards of setting and direction, .'hen the
fteiningen company vicited London in 1881, Irvinr had benefited
by the comparison of hie aiso-en-cccnc wit'., thcirr - oimilarly,
Hare and Kendal wore complioented as equalling the Dutch company
in their own, more intiraate icinc'. of ">_••>..act ion. An .Atlionaeum
notice of Pinero'c The Squire, praised the St. James's
company for attaining "the vitality, finish, ana c-::o.!blo v;liich
characterised tho performance of th-^ Dutch COLIC, ians recently
in London" (7 Jrmui-ay 1882). Unfortun^-o^ly it \;. c beginning to
be asked whether the methods appropriate to :;obertson could be
applied to "poetic" cr-nr, ano nroductionc of pl;...yo from the
period before the ci Lrhtcon-riftiec - not. bly tlic Bcncroxt^j:^
version of ?J.rck-ey'd Susan - had not been successful. The
renewal of the fashionable and intellectual interest in the
theatre seomed encouraging - ia 1881 Tlic Ac; do^ welcomed tlio

c-38
propoial to present Browning's In a Balcony at tho St. Jcraes's,
assured thut there was "no sufficient reason" to assume thc-t
the "only literary pabulum" it v/: s "safe to ciainister" ould
be th.-t acceptable fifteen years previously (17 December 1881).
But the production of Tennyson's The Falcon showed thr t the
poet could only offer a tableau, vivant witn dialogue as suitable
material for the company and their style. It seemed that
the Kendals could depict only one kind of character in action:
the domestic.
This view of the j-iinitations of the Robertsohian style
wa0 nciooteci by H^nry Arthur Jones, in two articles on "The
Dramatic Outlook" published in January and' February, 1185, in
The English Illustrated Magazine. Roberteonicai technique
required ulie suppression of poetry and emotion*
...it never occupied itself with any greater
tl .erne than a contrast of manners between a
wlgcr, usurping, middle class, end a decaying
cvristocrrc r .
The playgoer muafe be thankful for come values of the ochool,
notably the cultivation of scenic consistency and accuracy,
but,
...unless it is touched with the sense of
eternity, wrapped, round with the splendour of
heroism, and imbedred in what is primary and of
everlasting i.rnort, the mere reproduction on
the stage of the commonplace dr. tails of everyday
life must ulwr'.ys be barren, worthless, and
evanescent.
(ail.1 II (January 1885) 287, 28f)
Jones's articles echo a complaint coav.on at the time, but
after the two major ShakespCL roan productions of the autumn
of 1884, there was a particular i-, ;iediccv about the reminder
in the magazine's February issue that "so long as an audience
io interested or excited, or im-iosed upon by scenery or dresceo
or at; / e-cffect, it is very careless of the ;;cluc! wordc that
that ere spoken" (p.346). Unless it could ring nn undeniable
clarity and effectiveness to its treatment of the text, a
sumptuous revivrl of o. Shake, pearean play early i-i 1885 would
find itself the focus of the reviewers' ";rov,iac antr.ronism
towards such an enterprise.
Other circumstances combined to raclte the timing of the
St. James's As Yui Lil:o It inauspicious. The .vich-^iscussed

239
"renaiafiance" included ao one of ite :i,; jor el a-onto a rice
in the social status of the performers, and r and re ""ont'.al
ielt, not without justification, that they hud played a
considerable part in this improvement. In oono quart era, however,
the efforto of nctors - particularly, those of Irvinc - to
uphold the dignity of their profession wore faceted with
facetious abuse. Piiach. over ro^, rot! to nock t,ho pretentious
for the entertainment of the oelf-oatiafiod, attacked Irvin£
for making public speeches in which he aoknowlodrod hie
financial successes. '*'huc, at Puffinbn- h, .".;>., ?:r Xrving
was :•::-ro,
however eminent, wore tradesmen - barely art lot o and by no
neons to be conei«*cr*ed ao gentle en, Irvinc habitually nmdo
curtr'in-';nooc>.ec on first nirhtc and on opocial occasiono, end
he lectured and read at cchoola and univeroitioe in Britain cnc1
Ar.ioricn, arruing for the artiotic validity and oociol roapoctability
of his calling. Arri^nt the actor w^s arrayor, not no
much fra'/iionoble i :>c:.cty or bolicnic, as the r.ay of hunoroue
jo;ir--;-aistG, t'ofenders - in a-.c.j., I'un anC: 'ho. London Pi^nro -
of worl-ll.'.- philiotir. 1 sn and G cense of order thet v;oul< no
sooner r.l .ov? en actor t.:.-m a joeUoy to novo in o>;;..ltod circles;.
Fron tho journnlioa CM& raemoiro of ;cn like 'tarr^nc!, j-aln,
Yate® an'i Clo.-.iont _-cott ern bo divined a soncc of the auiiorr. 1
roooootful intinacy v.ith ,hc nobility onO /;c-nt y, ;V:G Iioir
onxioty to protect thoir social cu^oriorn froa the intruDions
of the lov?er ort!c.-c. The intereot t; ,;en by fro:iiont-.blo society
in tho tlicatre threatened ouch nn ii?.tracion, and j!;c c/i^tocirnr
were ac ccathing about the cmco for n-r'';eur tiioatricrlc, nnd
the rttomtc of oorae titled norr.:on to beco a c^oro, .- o t .cy
were on ,he oabjcct of cctoro' no"»i.r.itionc. A r-o->recc-t-tivo
piece is the c.onth 3f A-ril in _^_ch'o -3;:uinb-r,:.il '-uv-cry

240
for 1884" (5 January 1884):
Return of theatrical st.ro from America.
Mr Irving welco.c b;; the entire channel cquadron
off Bantry Bay, rcc-deved with a salute of one
hundred and four gui.a at cover; 1 stations on his
way to town, and made a Duke on his ; rrival at
Buston Square.
An indignant meeting of actors, held the next
morning in Hyde Park, condemns the limited
character of the honour aa an ineult to the
Profession.
The Premier, after taking the advice of a
distinguished artistic judicial authority,
counsels Her "tojesty to create one hundred
and thirty-six Theatrical Peers.
Simultaneous production of twenty-two original
five-act pieces by Cabinet iinisters, at
leading ./est-ijticl theatres*
Great Reaction in public feeling. Three
dowager duchesses playing the three witches
in JTacbeth at Nov.haven Theatre, are hooted
off the stage amid a shower of oyster-shells.
Most of Punch's jokes about actors, actresses and authors
followed this pattern, with the occasional avuncular rebuke
for good measure. Thus He

a force for social good. Scenery is improving, and contributes
to the general education of the audience; theatres nowadays
are more comfortable and salubrious before and behind the
curtain; playwrights are being given the literary and social
recognition that is their due, and "the improved condition of
the theatre hac made the moot f- rnous literary men of the day
anxious to identify their naraor with it"^. i,irn ''endal's
assertions that the theatre has an educative power may, in
the li^ht of Aestheticism, have seemed a little old-faohioned,
but to the National Association of Social ^cience - a body
concerned as much with prescriptive as descriptive sociology
- they would hcve seemed reasonable and justt
rhoce who ;~;o to the theatre with the capability
of weeping over scenes in which honest selfsacrifice
ic depicted; of being arouced to
ant lusiasm over the succeoo of manly effort or
wonanly devotion; or of feeling genuine contempt
for the portrayal of raeannets, treachery, tuid snobbery,
will come away from a good ^luy, v/cll acted,
having learnt a lesson and gained an experience thct
will probably be remembered v.ith tidvr.nt.vso throughout
the remainder of their lives..
Such opinions were unexceptionable, but in her diagnosis of
the drone's shortcomings, ',irs Kendal :rvo offence to a number
of commentators. 3Iie objected to the oxcocoive quotation of
newspaper reviews in theatre advertising, and iind recervntionc
about the quality of much journalism:
* • *j ,nov;ai"!nyc the writing of a "icturoaque
article, replete with eulogy or the reverse,
oe-.ms to be the aim of the tuoatric'l
reviewer.
Most criticiam \\cic ineffective, and -ind no influeiico over the
public:
Too many notices ..re, it is to be fe i-od, vritten
"to order", and the writer who hc:c declined to
praise an unoucceccful actor has been ]:nov,ii to
lo.Be hi;j oct; but let us ho-ie tlicit thirj unjust
ctate of r.frrdrs, together with the "chic^on ancl
ciu^n-o-v^Tic" of ./liich v^e h^ve heard uo i.iuch, ic a
thing of the past.^
,,Chi c!:en and chainpc.^ie« was a reference to tho eontrovercy
aroused by /owbruy ..'iorris's book, in 18'J2.

242
It was A%% to be exoccted that this speech, widely reported
at the time, and soon reprinted b; tho body before whom it was
delivered, should arouse adverse coarent. Punch, in an article
entitled "The Stage by Kendal-Lieht" (firat of a series of
similar puns) attacked the actress on itc favourite :< -round
of social and artistic snobbery - a barrister and a doctor
underwent a training which would fit them "for the ; ociety of
educated, if not of highly cultured gentlemen*1 , and the ctor
did not. Nor was social respectability any guarantee of hir.trionic
talent - perhaps, the magazine surr-eotecl, the tv/o were
in essence inimical, and an actor might be inhibited in hie
art by excessive consciousness of social propriotiec (4 October
1884). The dispute's ramifications were tedious and prolonged
and attempts by Mrs Kendal to clarify her objections to come
forms of theatrical journalism met with little success. In
January the wound a were ctill fresh, so that The Heforee, in
its second notice of As You Like It. could refer to her
sarcastically as "the mother of the English ctago" (February
1, 1885 )» and a cartoon published with the review in Tho Illustrated
oporting and Dramatic Hews showed i?orrlind, perplexed,
mucing "I wish I had never read that rsnpcr at tac Social Science
Co i; ^recs" (7 February).
Mrs Kendal was a popular actreno, and the company formed
by her husband and John Hare was cucce; aful. Despite the
hostility arouoed by the speech, the production of As You Like
It had a number of factors in its favour: the pi ay had alv.-c.yc
been popular, and cince Go'.'win's n-cn-^ir production • t Coombe,
it heO a certain cr.ch.ot. ac a work attractive to tne
taste for pastoral. Moroov-r, it wae not difficult to ^.rrr.n^c
the to::t in c, series of elabor-. te set ccc-nes, whilst it v/as
possible to retain sono, at lcr.;:t, of 3hp :e peer, 1 'a --x'.co anc!
fluidity of action. It was a play in v.iiich lightnocc of touch,
in design and acting, would be appropriate, and v/hich mi^lit
seem suited to Frc Xenrlr-.il 'a intelligent art.
In the event, hopes which mi^lrt hove been entertained
for the fuocess of the venture were confounded, and the forcec
mustered against the corvoaiiy prevailed, iii^fi eld's dr ;;i_nD

243
tor j\i.gh& accusations of pandering to the mistaken tacte for
spectacle, and the acting was attacked ac inadequate and
"modern", In The Daily Telegraph Scott v/roto:
Never before in tho memory of the oldest
playgoer has As You Like It been performed
with greater cure or less charm,
(26 Jcuiuary 1885)
In The Dramatic ..Review, Harry Quilter, sometime art-critic of
The Time a, complain that nan^fi^ld had stifled the pi; y's
light-heart edne L,G v.ltii "the introduction of archaeology and
realism" (1 February 1885), and the Captious Critic of The
Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic news found those cos tunes
which .vorc archr-eolo^ically correct to be n irritatirv~;ly ugly",
whilst otlicr, more attractive crcsooo .vorc- "more pleasing to
the eye, but lens satisfactory to the purist" (7 February 1885).
The coctume-djsigner'a intentions were published in '.'ho Pall
Mall ftasot :.e on the morning of the first performance: the play
was cet in the reign of Charles VII of Prance and wno presented
"on that magnificent scale and with the t sumptioua elaboration
v.-hich modern plpygoerc d< inand". An "attendant" of the trench
King was .-; licked to have deviccd the customary designs for
King, Queen and Knave on playing cards, and the court would
be dresacd .ccordingly. The scenery v/no v .anted cs attaining
new heights of realion - in the first act:
The Duke's >alace becomes a feuaal castle after
the C/^'.tcau d f 'utboic-o, . .Orlando and Le Beau (bic3
v;rcstle between lictc. The ccene bocomeo a ^reat
pageant, a Coj.rt spectacle, v/it.i til the ;oonp of
heralds and flourishing truiiiostc, and ceases to
be a co-mon-nlace wrestling natch v ith a paltry bit
ox garden for the field of cor fort.
The foreat cot V/G.B "sure to be a triUi-pn of art",
with real vegetation, and sunli:-;iit efiocts
nrof'luced by electricity from above. Str r'o
f-rrac is not rcnorally artistic. Mr -iii;;fiold
who --rl'.c not in trodden i>aths, has had hie -;rasa
manufactured from feather o dyed and then a owed
into riots in the ordinary v;c?y, the whole rivm L-
a noct rcalii "^ic eiTect,
A red brook would run on stage, the guard of the u:;ur ;ing
du-o would be iT.ro cr^onatcd by "real guardcaon", and new settin;
s by Alfred Cellier .vould replace the traditional mucde of
Arnc and Biahop,

None of this was of avail: reviewers seized on inconsistencies
in the staging, where they did not simply oeny its
appropriateness altogether, and v/ingfield seems to have made
a number of elemencary mi stakes. Perhaps he did not have the
authority suggested by The Pall :.!p.ll gazette article, and too
much wee left to Cathcart, the ;:tage ;nan;.:,r;c-r: in the programme
•.Vingfield was credited only v/ith the design of the costumes.
whoever v/a.o respoii ,ible, the mist, Ices v/ere startling - according
to i'iie ::ei'orec the running water had to be turned off
during dialogue so that the speakers might be heard, and
3oo- line's mimed attempts to locate the cuckoo in the treea
on stage was belied by the bird's voice emanating very obviously
from a clvriuot in the orchestra pit. One mistake for which
'Vingfio-d accented ro ^on:;ibility 4 and r'or which he ••.•ttcmptod
to account, v/oo the sumptious dress of the banished court: he
explained their silks, satins and furs re the conoeouence of
sumptuary IO.WD, by which noblemen were obliged to adont costume
befitting tao-j.r r^nk, and eroded hints to the effect that he
v.'ichccl to rvoid riving them the appearance of "Free ?oror.terc M
- a r-'Tr-nili-tary or-anic-ntior. who dressed in ,^rcen and hold
marced meetings ; t the Crynt 1 Pclace.
i:i:;fiold ap;ioc'.rrj in this to Iiave been rcfuring the
precedent set by G-ociv/in, whose courtiers r.t Coornbe had worn
greonc; and browns, with roots and I cg.ci •''-.' c of loatlior, as
being suitable to the life of outlr_wc. In ; ,n article in the
ccriec "Archaeology on the Staac", in T_^ ...Ji;1 ^.',--'
7 "".arch 1C85 Godv.dn d r. cribod como of the i.iconsi^tencicc in
the &l . Janea'c decide, althou.^li he proposed that the manago*-
ueut ."("vccrved every 'i.x! of cncourp.rofaf. nt M for their ntorprioj.
The coaplaintG of tho article rr. oro- "ucc come of ..hose
. rittc?n by Godwin on hie copy of the -ro rar.LT.0. hy wa.c Jaquec
du Bois, newly "li hted from iiis horoe, not drocced for riding?
Why, if Orlando was ko^t "rustically at honie", v;as he 'resced
"li.::e a I'ulce"? Godv/in overheard a -olry^oer in the ctrlls co -aenting
that it was "very mean of Grime1 o" "o take Acm's life
covin.'-rj before he hr.cl "rr-wnocl Me ov;n drr.ncr.y", T i the nw^tu-ry
lav;c - r:uro>cing then r/v?l icrble to oirclav;o ~ con-.trainec5 the
b^nichod court to dresn in an iinoracticnl f; r.hion, v:hy did tlioy

allow Orlando to outshine the usurper, v.iio might be expected
to take an interest in such matters? In addition to these
querieo, Godv.in offered the opinion thrt tiie forcct oet was
too cumbersome, -olio stage being too much occupied by "building
out", with a resulting reduction in the size oi' the acting
area, "rendering some of the movements extremely ackward".
In a later article Godwin drew attention to the revival
as sym-tonatic of a failing in contonnorary theatre more
serious t/ian the carelessness cliovn in details of production:
fhe fact is, the cu^nly >f actorr, though plentiful
enough, is bed, and the more : chci.-irly and o,rtiatic
your oeenery and surroundings, th>: aorc evident doeo
tliir: unwelcome fact become - thrt there is no
school of acting in ^nrland,
(5 September 1885)
;tcvi'.jv/cra of the first ^crformvnce were as pee&imiotic, and
oh'.'v;, in a letter to ,/illiam Archer, said that he hoped never
to see again "cuch -11 round abject, ri by anal, bottomless incompetence"
7
* The ftilure coulcl not be attributed oimply to
the 6.esi ;'^aor» or to 3, current tendency to aurj^oct lavishnesa
in rtoging, but to serious r.liortcomings in the cormany.
ii« The Performance
The evidence u^on which an ?ccoiint of t.;io l- r'5 c '_ ou
cm be bacorl ic limited to t;io nc\va riaper °ro na r as;inc notices,
and the -roblichcr?. acting edition: no .pron t co-oy lias come to
light, ftj.ivl'ielc/ ir.; )if; bricaiiia of T.ac^ Pall _--yll >la>-ic bte
cor.vesponclent, cl^l.nc'1' that the text v o V be thrt of acroar>r,
"with cuch o lenclctionL 1 and r Iterations /.;: v..crc thoualit most
effective", bat this £oatv.rc tov.T.rcic tradition does not ceem
n-ach to the point, for the treatment of the -Ipy ic no ^oro
or loco ruti'lccs than that of -ffios v.itton's 1880 p.'o- u^tion at
the ln-orir'l ihcrtrc - the moot recent metropolitan production
of any irnortance. The ^onc'rlt ' text :lvcc the nloy in five
acts, vrith come trj-ncoositions and the o icrion of one complete
scene - 11,2, in y/hich the ucurning I-ulre l

246
few stage-directions, and some cues for
After the short conversrition be two en ACtr.w. and Orlando,
which, in the words of ho Morning' Post (26 January) "cir! not
at once arrest attention", tho opening of the cocond scene
displayed the first fully-set ; t; , o- licture, "a mediaeval
castle, overlooking a wide expanse of n.- rk, and with a spacious
courtyard, whereiu the wrestling foasms an attractive item in
a holiday pageant". A number of criticc testified to the
impression of solidity .niven by the castle aot, although The
Pall Mall Gazette found it "a little stiff in effect" (26
January). In The Illustrated porting, and Dramatic Nows the
Captious Critic lived up to Me sobriquet:
The r ' : ike*s Palr-cc, erected by ?1r "Perking, i@ an
unmistokocble French chr.-t reau t though I fancy of
date -posterior to tha't of Charles the Victorious.
But in the raattor of thrt etntuc of young Tan
Cu iid an? its --icder. L,al. Is it to bo .;cce;otcd as
a clo; :;ic relic ^reserved with unv/onteO cr i*e from
the hande of pious iconoclaots? Surely, no mediaeval
chisel could ii,-.:vo fashioned it.
(7 February)
Tlie Times noted ..ith approval the presence of a.'.'large,
quaintly-dressed niofe of rustics" r,t the vvre^tlin/ inr.tch, but
gave no incliCL.tion as to the form taken by the "licta", or
in what way they differed from the ucuol boxi:ir-rin ;:> Illuotrrtions
in The Illustrated London ITews and clDowhcre ohov/
Chr.rles and Orlando wrestling, but do not ;jhow l. :oir ;;un-oundincr:
v ith --ny rirccicion. >?ho Crptiouo Critic, remembering Iiis
paper'c title, diLCu:-sed the ..v.tch in e-iortin7 terms, coirr^ri^.g
OrlcTKlo's air- culouc -.-'in to the occasion upon which little
uici:erby of Carlisle lire crosrj-bu!; cocked "the e.i ant Ton Poolcy"
hif;h into the air some twelve ye.-: re: -:ro at tlie A.^ricultar. 1
ifall. Unfortim. .tely tho ineqr.ality in ohysicue between ICendal
and Vonion robbed Orlando^ ciccoac of any voriDi ilitudo, and
the winner made co 'injr- elo'nnnt.'^ry errors airly i*/_ tae bout
UM _ . ,
u rcviov/r-rn, -oortir^ or otherwice, '..ere /lco.i\mc©d. —L
. Po.^.t. found the matc-i entirely c.-ecible, but -,;a£j alone
in its opini >'--•
TUG io: t i.mortant bucineoo of the act w; s rioca

247
appearance on stage, and the signs of her nascent love for
Orlando. Truth found Hro Kendal "forced r.nu stagey" from the
beginning, (29 January) and The Referee took exception to her
self-conscious delivery of "Jir, you hr.vs wrestled -.veil...",
spoken "using on..? eye for Orlando anr* the other for the
audience" (1 February). The Morning Pont was unusual in finding
attractive ".Mrs Kendnl*s d-piction of the sudden emotion, and
praiced "the faltering voice and trembling hands'' - "tell-talo
evidences of love", ;a she nlcced the ch in around Orlando*s
nee-:. Later in the extended scene came a noint at which felen
Faucit claimed that ""cntlon no "iveo plrcr to ri-htcouc;: icv.-ionctrtmce"
. According'-ly she occented oj.rc. stically tho heroine 1 !
defiance of tho uour^iar Dukes
,hat's thrt to me? IvTy father v/a.s no traitor."
(1,3.59)
According to The Era, ::rc Kendal chose to deliver the lino,
"with a whimper" (31 January), anc1 the C;: p;i.va;.. Critic described1
her behaviour towards t'.io tyx'TMit as "too lfjc.h-.-y,10no". The Pall
rll •'..'•c'sot_te objected to fro Kendal*c accentu';:tj.on of :.no
lino :
Anc1 . - in my heart
\/O!V.MI'G fo^.r there villrc
ana a mvrtirl ou-JL'iclo.
(1.3.114-6)
It aope: z'od that "both ;.' •;-! .;.:r and the series •' v;oulu be
i 1 -.:'u-oved l\v renoving tho ctror.c from ''tl'-ero", but, JJiio reviev/er
conceded:
...in tiiic cr.ae, as in moot all ot.'ior-,, !'rn -rciii'al
couir, no o.Vbt, i. ef one 1, acr qucc,t: ;.oii Vie r-r-ulin^c,
v/hich are, nt v/orst, trif.'cs.
It 'vvc.c ac'Mittod thc:t" in noc;t rocvoctc of 'cocluiiquo tho : ctrosc
coal;' not be denied si: ill ai^ :; nt olli :,-;c-ncc - "i.or vcroc ^pco.l:iiic
was C'lmoot fr.ultlosG. The rcocrv^.ticnc of no,.t -•ovic-.;crs v;ere
conceiTiec v.rith the qucctior. of T r,:» AGn.'.al'G Loinr. suited by
c.ge auc toa^err>3,.cnt for ?.oscli:ic'. Theco doubts -

248
to "Mr David James's chick-a-leary step after sinking "The
Ugly Donkey Cart" in a Strand burlesque 11 (7 February), strutting
gait notwithstanding, The Times thought Hare's fool a "very
scholarly and accomplished person", and ^lilter, in The 'iramatic
Review, gave a description of the act or't, manner:
Could we conceive of Touchstone as a retired
cavalry major, living, say, at Bath, and given to
caustic re marks upon hie partner's bad play at
whist, this would be the figure that would present
itself. Its main feature is an abrupt nilitarism.
Touchstone hore cits, or stands and frowns severely
at the audieme, threatening any character he is
talking to with his forefinger, he shoots out his
jokes at liia like bullets, and then closes his
mouth and frowns again. Here and there, a kind of
surprised comicality appears in his face, as if he
was astonished to find himself, at his ego, playing
the fool in thio fashion.
Hare had evidently baaed his interpretation on observation of
a contemporary tvpe, and to the majority of critic© this no,3
a reprehensible "modernity", as out of olace as Standing's
comparable mistake in the recent Honco and Juliet* The Saturday
Review found him too sententious, and didiked the "thinness"
and "dryness" of the portrayal (31 January). The Aefereo
accused him of wa-Icing through hie part "in the most dismal
fashion, wit.iout so much ao a gleam of humour or brightness"
(first notice, 25 January), and The Weekly Dispatch remarked
that Touchstone uttered hie wiee sayings "as if he were inoculated
with ninetconth century pessimism" (1 I'obraary). Archer,
who found Hare lacking in "unction", suggested in :iis review
that Touchstone wac "the isoct loftily sententious of Shakespeare
'a clowns", and this vi'v; tlirov/c cone li'^lit on the expectations
that the actor tluvarted: Touchotone's manner Dhoulcl, it
seems, be sententious, but in a manner remote frora that to be
encountered in the ^nineteenth century, ic v;^s expected to be
remote and graceful, n

249
suggested that the delicacy of Rosalind should influence the
humour of Touchstone t
The philosophy of Jaquee, the sentiment of Orlando,
the wit and hmour of Touchstone, even anpear to
be tinged with the tender satire, the playful
wisdom of the daughter of the baniahed duke.
Hare's performance appears not to have pleased by its lack of
this tenderness.
The second scene of Mrs Kendal's first ;:ct ran continuously
through the second and third ocenovof the original: after
Orlando 's conference with Le Beau, he left the stage and
Rosalind entered with Celin. The omic, ions - r omc thirty linos
of prose and verse - were unremarkable, save for the prudishness
of "side" for "thigh" in "A galant curtle-axe upon my
thigh", and the well-established re-arrangement, "No, some of
it is for my father's child", where the Polio prints "child's
father" (1.3.11-12). As was commonly the co.ee in Victorian
acting editions, references not only to bodily functions, but
to any form of physical unpleasantness were excised: thus tlio
exchange between Touchstone and uoo
- >!ay if I keep not my rarO: -
- Thou losest thy old r,nicll.
(1.2.95-6)
was not acceptable. Rosalind's height was Diminished, inaccordance
v;ith Specie" ing's emendation, by substitution of "looser"
for "taller" in the line "But yet indeed the taller ic his
daughter". It appears from ''he oatuj.- i:y LOVJOW (but not from
the published text) tlr t Rooalind i eprived Colin of the act's
concluding couplet,
Now go v.e in content
To lib rty, and not to banishment.
The new version, however, c"icl not end \ itli thia, but ith tlie
transposed II. 3, in v;hich Adam and Orlando lorve tlaeir "lo^cinr; 1
The scene \vas not cut in any way, and ;-;ave Jolin IS;'Clc;'.u, as
Adam, a further opportunity to impress the critics. Ouilter
may stand for the majority of liir: colleagues in the opinion
tlir.t Maclean's was "n thoroughly good performance". The rrll
'Jail :rsotto suggest cd that he improve upon it by adopting a
niece of businesa used by Chi-Tocr.C.'le, a veteran of Buckot one's
Haymarkot company, and "the Ac1 am of Adams". At the ..ores

250
"Master, co on, and I will follow thee", Chippendale "uccd to
return to the house for a moment to fetch hio cap, wallet and
staff, before delivering his pathetic words of farewell" - an
effective, if somewhat obvious, false exit.
-'lie curtain rose at the beginning of the second act to
disclose the luah and lavishly "built out" forest iromised in
minefield's interview. To its effectiveness the reviewer in The
Pall Mall Gazette gave enthusiastic testimony:
Ac for the scenery, it must be admitted that
the clu'c ia the Forest of Arden, in which so
much of the action passes, forms es beautiful
a sylvrn landscape as ever was put on the
otage. A dam has been built across a little
brook flowing through "the green cloom of the
wood", and from the lillied pool thus formed a
little cascade comeo purling forth, to lo; e itself
behind a grassy, flower-gemmed bank, eloping down
to the bottom of the hollow.
Godwin wrote on his pro .ramie:
Flowers under trees artificial - bazaar-like
- don't grov; in nature.
with an art-critic's eye for the vr.lue of onre-painting,
Quliter observed a luck of joie de vivre in the figures disolayed
in this landscape:
Soberly speakinc, thce.0 scenes are execrably
dull; there is a heavy -TO ^>riety about them,
they v;oary where they caoald iMtorest, for there
is an absence from them of that very t ~irit of
insouciance, and that :.ir of ir:ordv_u on v.iiich
all their charm cshoulcl denc-nc. .
looked more like a --ar^en tjr.n a woodland,
and J'.IQ ^ fcroo took the interruptions of the brook's •urli
as a aim that Tare and I-Cenrlal could "control nature as well
as Art".
At the bG ;r;ir>ninr of the act, the bnnioho^ PuJie and ./'is
:ictndso:.:ely-cl; cl court ttit aid lioteneO to Anicns's render j.-yof
"Under the .irecnv/ood Tree". The nice (J.F. Young) e divorce1.
not only iiis firrt r.pecch but the firct half-line of •', iens's
reply, ."I v;ould not chan-e it", and .irosenoly tho ?irr:t Lore
(-,pl;_.ycd by Mr,- riuon Thomas) described -"."ouec's meditations on
the wounded ,ctag. The coi.Dr.ny left to ,ce, !: out t>udr r.ielancholy

251
friend, and the action continued with Rosalind's arrive 1
in Arden (II. 2).
-lost of the reviewers v;ere die le sed by the coi.tu^c
which ."Ire Kendal adopted as a modest substitute for doublet
and hose. vVin field had dcoc ibed the dress in Jlio -all 11
Gazette;
Rosalind... v.cars a skirt of rich ^r on brocade
which roaches do n to the knees, 1 uf: boots of
t :rey leather, a loat ,-;-r jerkin as t bo-ice, rhubarb
coloured r.leeves, and a hat of grey.
This soinewhrt ungainly costume - its long boots reminiscent
of a bishop's gaiters - served only to remind t^ullter of the
actress's age:
respite all ;f isiie ori-inal;
"iVhich ic he th- t cillcd the de^r?". ih* • cr-ne had -i '.; .11 end-

TI-, 4. 4.-«« n Following p.251
. Illustration 11
Mrs Kendal as Rosalind,1885

252 -.
ured displacement - Miss Litton 1 s 1880 ver i xj u eel it rt the
: 1 end of the third act - rmd here it served as n introduction
to Jaque 'c description of Touchstone. It seems that he did not
leave the rt; CG, but uas discovered by tho rul:o. By Mission
of four lines, i.lrs Kc.ru 1 P.I provided a t^ruudtion .--G follows:
(_uji_tor 'U::Q)
I'uko; I thin ' lie be trc.ii;,forr;ior'. into n bo- ct,
For I c ii ii-j./tiere iind iiiia lir.e a .; n.
Go se k him, tell -im I . ould cpcalc \.-ith hir.%
'V.i'"--v ; He .'.r.ve-c uiy labour by hio ov/n a-o-ro.-'ch.
(11.7.1-2,7-8)
Jaques's .poecli onc-ed it 1 ! "A -./orthy fool: no -Iry's t;io only
v.or.rj" (34), and in abeence of any directions, ic ur:t be nrjnuiiec
that ^rG-opxrtionc for the fer.ot - in kc« r>ing v/ith the
luxu.-y of the banished C irt - v;oro inrc'e whilst he v/n'c c o..:- : j-1; ; ,
The next line in tho new te t is "Forbcn.r, ar.c": eat no more"
(88, r, cut of fifty-t iroe fines).
The controversial iucon-ruity of the co^bu.'uoo in ,::-ii3
,. cene Ivs boon ..;enti )no'. : I'lio I'rily . O;.TJ and T- , ^ic '-^o--^
obcervet? th- t Orlcnc'o'c -.vonder, "I thou-.iit th.-.t ;'ll things
h 1 d been r:;pv." ::;c liore" 1 .t ito force. • ailtor foiui-' tiic rc\,ultiiVj,
jict ire unat Lr: ctive and uncoavincin;;:
• ••v.e •i./vo a little ctiff lot of courtiers
i-u^tcr;: 1. of the olo i.ierry coia'o.'.'iiioriG. ?r^'oo in
sill: f. tockin a set out a re^o^.t -...liic.i., os one
critic v_r~r truly ron'..r'cod, v;;.-.s r^t-icr a •'^icnic
a If ,S3i_ uon rt tli(,n r rou; h f o/. .;• at-'r'c MCP!J and
the courtier; :-;tand aid sit around in i • ovc-ible
pictureccjuo rt jitudeo. .-itli ulie o;;co i oi 311 of
one funor f v/ho r:nc• .:.i-..Ice
unro:;prj;ablo ?:c no. Ho c cliverod Lio "seven r. ot:" cpeecli
coated, and nfde of it "a -b.'oi'o- -lily :'0,mil piece of rcti:.\ ,
skilful i..' itc ol jcMtion niul -•'"btle in its ;•-• sp of c-mto;.^-
Ip.tive chc r; cter" (-^ lio..^Ii_g£i)» ^'o t] i:>ro ^ f]-^itted cert, in li Stations
in Vezin's r.tv-o pon/on-lity, but ^rpiced his J-ioues:
T Vezin io a little dry, emotion is conev/aat
x orcitTn to him, and GO ip Iiorrty ovorfl .'Vlrif
coij.of'y. ,3at such r. part as tir't" of orqjioo
he CPU i erfon 1 to perfection; for hie bearing
has t need a crioic co^rtiincsc; hitf nir, if

253
not enthusiastic, is often kindly, and he io a
skilled master of e&ocution...
The notice describes a piece of business attending Adam's
arrival at the feact, which Wodmore could not recall from any
previous performance: was it a ncv; idea, "t re his identity to t:ic rake -
Shake opeare* o arrangement .allo.vo 'lim to Go " iis '/urine t.'ic
•z±nr±ii^ of iiao son,: - Kendal's to.:t io contrive*." GO i-.c to bring
tiic ct-^rop do, n on a t .blo^u, ac the couriers lie ten to
Cellior'c ".aov.,blo\;, thxi .inter vvinc".
'Hie t/iirt. act be. MI .viuj.i a mo .'iili. ,.t oiTect, intendou as
a demonstration of the new electric lirhtin.?. ,U'-cIior bore
v/itacsG to the difficulties of uuin^ tlK- now -cecliaiquos:
ooue aetcjrolo ical -.Vio-i'") -.ona v;liic-i o-oened tl\c
thlrrl act \;or, rtartlii" and uncalled for, t'ic
sun and noon • ettinr co i.ixed up t,v;-t Orlanclo
adfiresced the former ao the "thriro-cro: .nod
r" on of the nifjrt"; but lJ.,c;:ily o?.is spheres fot
into tune again bof ore my ,.-e -iouc -v. -rn ensue c1 .
It is not clear how ^cnO.al onci Hare dealt itli the tii-ioscheme
of i'.'iis ct, v/hich appears to be£in at ni ;iit end end
in tlic afternoon » but -,.?iiicli raakoc =10 ci'.'/ii' tic j.ue of the

254
time of d. y after Orl. nt!o*B invocation of the ino Ji:. Some
producers arranged for a sun-rise effect as soon as pos ible -
thus, in a prompt-copy of Mod JGG?C- »e -tro-ruction the lighting
cue for the be^inriin^ of tho act reads:
Tilue Calcium for > ioon at rise of curtain.
As gr-o goes up ;--r;jdually take it off.
^hi;j was a simplification 01 ; ri earlier

Illustration 12
Mr and Mrs Kendal as Orlando
and Rosalind,1885.
Following p.25*f

-53
coineid.-nce; and yet the pulse ir; r-uic'cc^ed,
the heart-throb io felt... 0 lv miucsss beyond
be-Lief, oh rapture irrer, : - C ; iblei The te^ro
p.t thic p dnt always welled up to rny eyes.
arid my v.lv^ o body trembled... 1;L
o /.'ontir-l does not ce m to have rioen to the moment,
Notj^ „. r-'-od that iaoto-d of "cu^-rcr-.-lar a joyous sur;>rice",
she "read the lines ,;ith a drrviatic intensity quite out of
^lace". The oane aictai-e accompanied the line "v,:i:t shall I
do \.ith :-y coublot and ho.:c", v/hore Quilter found a "celfconscious
p_udery" which was discernible at a number of points
in tiie porfo^-iYi: nee:
"Alack the Ge?"
(filter felt that thic, v/aa a consequence of the :ind of role
habitually played b;,- urc lendal. A further refinement of the
labouriiip of iao line inay be found i '-.ly's prornpt-co"-y for
a production f ir, t seen i.. England at the Lyceum in 1890. lero
flocalind ic "at fir^t ^t: rtlod and a Pnaraod ":t be in,- cau;;i\t out
of hor pettico. ts M - die "li'.yc hold of Celia's cairt and tunic
her ouite round -»ry±iy: to aide her ov.n legs.. .ihon. aei'-ing
bot--. of ColJ.a*s h-Jids and -rolli:i; thorn altoir.i- tely"12 . Ada
Hc-.an'G c.ude ox^rco ionr.; of modocty and nutuu ircm we o to
some extent ;ia.de accept- ble by her vivacity and y;-uth f nnr?
her con.:ly and v.cll- icpl yed 1. a^;, but ".r.-j .Cental's o::ortionG
only drew attention to icr dir:.n^."'lificatioaa for- t.::o n.-^rt.
?hus b--.d L\ ;i,-i.n, caiv' '.'/or:'.; ro :, in^d buaind.. when :..lio ea;.:c
to her ^ootiiii.'; •..?. t.i )rl uido, I rrj Kornlal v/ar, "v/injiiiv," but, as
The Satur'...j,y J-OVJGV/ pointed out, ''it v/; c not the -rulc,,j
coquetry of a li-, .t-!j.ca;:'ted da;a; el". I;., toad, ahc GU; crjoiv.
"the I'ofiiiod fascination of the m- turc v/oa n of the ;. > .1. ":
It wo:. 'The Lad i o r,' 3a 111 e tr^.ijferred to the
."ore.vu of Ardea: and ro;jin-"ir.:., us in ov:.ry loolr.,
tone and ; coture of tlio dice, of the cLwinr-roon.
The sp.rao effect liad boon obac^vod by i'hc uaturd.^yj^c-vlcv; to
be a coacequence of the p'Lryiii"; of Juliet't; 1 .v.—scenes by a
ii-ature v.ctrocs - tlicy "cozener: ted into intripuc" (G Dvo;:-ber
1"'"4). In t'iirj in: t nee r^ Ccndal )v r-'^ipha .iced the nataoa,
at the rick of anoorririg effected: JTarnatic I-otcr' ;:.h->u;ht that

256
she delivered "0 oninous.J He comes to kill my heart" (231)
v:ith "a look -of terror and ap-ni-'-^onsion ouch ^s mi 'lit be
fittingly v.orn on the ar>prr ch o2 rn at car, L in, and \dth c>
cictrescing >• unc b- tv/c-n rach v;ori", Archer found a "too
nervous vivacity, an TW r-:.r.-'ul crice in flo..-i( i n.tative
gesture" in the pasc- c:e beginning, "Tine travels in ( ivers
puces .;i-cii Jivcrr, per; on;,". In all t;.ic, the ; ctrcr 3 woo
not :-re;'->-ly i. oc by h-r ii:i.-:b. 110 , of -..ho-i rill thr.-fc c u,ld
ch.-rit'bly be r. ri: v:as the verdict of : •. •• ^tic . ^to;.., th;-t he
WP.D "v.-ell-lookinc; but not an intcrcr:tiiip; represent.' ^Jive of
Orlaifi "o". Ar> hr-r noticed t :at he wns T: ther iven to acin
hie tlM''.?:'t-voice in the birnk-yorse riaccn^on",
The iio : . t act tonkin v/itli Shaken^ c; TO 's 711. 4 (Celia anfl Ro.'alind)
an'-; aovcc1 directly to ..ilvius's pleading . ,1th Phebc,
by O'liotiii.r; Coriu's entrance. Colia*s " .'lio comcc hero?" Iierr.'lc'r-t
the arrival of t.io ru; bic 1 o;.; lino and Celia novod
up- o, ,r 'o to ovorlic r the c'i.-,pute» In order to .r..c:ilovo the
tra; ,:.ition !:otv/oon 111,4 and III.5» the version to rived the
audience of innort nt f'Vic'enco of Ro 'linu's euriocity about
love. In tlio ori 1:^ I Ro. al'-ind. and Celi."'. do not .. rcl^ ovorhoar
a lover's ouarrel, they rot out deliberately to v/.vtch a
cpcctr cle:
•j!'he ,:;i lit of lovers foe cth thoce i:i love.
Jring us to t^is f:.i^iit anci .you i.iip.11 nay
I'll provo a busy actor in u-i' ir 1 ./^. ,
\ l^.J— : ,- y
The new verrdon ;'lr;o ro'"; uceo our coz:r;o of tlie foroct'c cir-:e,
by conccivlT'.'tiiif"; the action in one clearing, v;hcrc' ;j:'t (: ori. in '.1
by its COCK taut i'Cjour.-- ::ntb and c- ::.?• 1 I*G.L' .rencefj to utlier
p- rto of the arer , cu^;.x-ct E- IL r, c v:o ;d ith ry prtL- .
Alter Iiv.5, the action conti^'-'ccl v itJi .lo jlinc 1 '^ i-cturn
(IV. 1). Jr.'.quec discovered her /'rtherin:; n ... ; _ 13, anc. the co -
vers.-tion bot-,7; '^n t.:c two v;ao de cilbed b jlhc ilornin,;; J joat
as "eloq-ior-t of the poetic iuariii. tion ..itli \ -i^-li tlic t:ceno
is ot forth". Orlanoo arrived, Jrque c'cpr.rted, rn. ,aore of
on; -or. .'.ft or 6O:ao oi^ty linen,
conclui'in :r i-.i

257
0| tl.ui.t /.orv.n c;. .jnot nak.e nor f; ult :ir
husband's oc< > .lo:-.. I -t hr-r ;-irv:r nur^e
her ciiilr heiself , for Ue ,,111 breed it
like a fool,
Ire .:cn-'.'.a, for no good advent rc;>; on, san^ l;ae first L.b,vnzc.
of the dialogue between Surnmer and Winter froj.- .''-ovc'r; Lcboi-r 1 ;;
J^;t, "":o point of t.-)ic nry Iwo loin ±-.\ its application to
:.iarri. £-c and cuckol^y, a ,ocali,rl/ iailelie.-.te oabioct for
an LU i-ence v,ho v/oru at '11 co. ts to be Lronrod rr.'.cli • ^-oi.:r;
expreccions as "thigh". Or, nore likul,y, it v;, G v-lthout any
application, and oervod :oroly t.a a opontaneourj effusion of
the cli:irrcter*s oxhilerotioi.i. ACCO..- in^ to The_ iv:v_, ."re "oik'.al
"ran Either and thither about the ctr'^c pretending to herr a
real cuckoo and i:.*.-. ul in.-7; in st^rtG,;: 1.!!^ . -ri^-coQ t'v>.t v/ero
alto ot'.ier out of )laco"« Orlc'iiro, vho -icd no doubt appe . •-.•od
suitably ^i\.-tifiod b.y the outburst, i.-im-.ly i'o : r'-.\.'d, w?jr
thecc t'.vo houi*s ,.o r-liuu, I ill lo ve thee".
v:h':kcr;^oare at this ^oint ui^os a _,i.?i i.lo device to csto.bli._ia
the pac-'.i^e of time. Colie'a t;I'll o to r'leop" at tlio cnr ; of
IV. 1 ic followed b;, a ;/iofj ocene incluc'in,0' the cori,:; "'i.Ciat
GhrM lie iiavc t-i. t !-:illed tlio deer?" ; ,>rl: r^ o ' G farewell
su^c^.tD that Iv»l en; j:. abDO.t 100 ', v:ith C

258
It v/rxc p..T-b of a rtr-tcLy of which t/iio or:,-Lie, aiu". a few other
; ••••r".v-r, i ;.'^oroby "eve^y little , ifcbiu-;.t of assumed inanlineos
is at ovce ac :n to ',.3 a sxi-Ji:.;, lo ,. it or the i:.. 10.., -ible". ilelen
]'; ucit claimed tlia-j, when. ..online fi int;j, "t'lu L/'J..aiii uoon
her fc ;li:, ,:j is too ^acl: ever, for ,ior poweru of command, groat
ac they rrc", but re ICendal had done litole to Gap;f;ect such
po-.vv^fj''-'. From the uooice iii ~^_*±^ it soo:ac> t!i;'t iicr faint
v/uo ^roc-Led by a cl.ocr, but i.ic ^all uall ,c^ct-J>e ivucii-Iiod
that a .,30 jr exit ;vx.iled the end of the scene. Quilt or tliou/iit
the cciivory of the exit-line, '' ill yo - go?'' poor - "entirely
tiociern in ^ L)irit, ..ith itc oelf-concciouaness, itt, flurry,
and it little :.:u.;i'«.
i'l'iQ final .'.ct v;;:.s uivi.-'.od into tv/o cconeu, t.io fir^t
com;.-i in..';; '".I and 2, am. concluding v.it.".i "Glee: Toro../Lorc;
sound the Cheerful Horn 1 ". The erid of the litany, "Good
shepherd, tell tiiic yj.ith \vhat 'tic to love.,." •,;•, s cut by
fourteen lines (87-102), rn

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260
ohakoapc.-re seemed to have been cauaht":
I :--^LtI- hrvn thought, in thoso .lays of elocution
cla see, Sh'k'-r-io' roan rcp^in^a, ai-.b. >r education,
and extreme cul-juro, t.v.t the f ir: t tning t'vat
v;oulf Shakespeare, and the intej.li--oiit
interpretation of t'i z±iC. :o."nliiicl

261
acizor?. - .Ithm h the rr>nn,.-"oncut w.-c I'Ccaac^ of trying to
conceal t'v--. 3 akespeare \vnc not to Too v.:i. ]... • r.o.m ;it:i such
i'i'edi-icntc: his ?a yr- v/cre b: rely adaptable to t.ue -ro;.:c
mcoiurri of tiio ct,-e, and :;;cv? "'-"'i^H' ^I'^-IJ-IS. "- ra^-ttor;: of
2t- •-in.";, rr.jhcr t. rn a ^Ica for consi.'t.- \c.v r.nc ;v•r.\ony. It
could ;\lso i^crve ;-c a r,-:nindor thr.t the uyce ia wry "i :jr oh.alce.-j-
Dearo ;/ac! th uo..t avail.'.bio to tl'.u; cii:c/rni;.- ii"y/-o ..-. hen
Irvin ccvo >i"O: fro;; ' rrica in " 7, lie eoul

262
-c.ky 'h t 2 June 1804). In 1005 Wocinoro rcra. T^i-cl th.".t Irvin;
iir.cl returned "vith uii'.'irairjhod cnorgy, nac; ,/ith ..,iolJ.y ujianoilt
art" ^^j_£:__.iiLi. 9 ay)» an'- ^c,,.,^ •', ..ji t t:-:t -iis • ;.. :'.ct
£jlio-..ocl "a ...r-rk'vO i.' /ro^o; tvr.-t in •••loci.iL.lc.v.r-/ -rrce anc 1 -i;.;tinct
ness", .-liilst l,,C:':i:i^ none of i1;c forr.ior "arsirit, onor, y" and
"force of oer;,on;>.l attraction" (Vjio ^.^rld, 6 ;?/). '.C'ho revival
Vv-ar; / rtl- c, reply to T;,trrett f s ••ro(?u- ':ion - not
on].?/ a rc- r '.-L.;.''iiT:: tion of i ii--.-.-, •• re.cy, but :'.n rroovu/.nity for
reviewers to :-ocl;--'in Irvir.f for r;o;rc of the virtuec (fyii'^ainri,
r'ictinct e/o-~0:ing) ; ceorOecl to the youi.'.rar actor-mrnr•- or. It
rerr i i:?o( 1 to be seen v/hrthor r.ny furtlicr full-:;c- le nr:. actions
-,'vou.lci offoi r- cl:Tllon.3:o to Irvii 'c ,. y it -il:ako«->c: re. In
late ?Tay f t C^o^.bo, ''ro^v.'in's /\ ; _^ou _[i- '-?._^Ji. v;as J-"'- ;vivjd f b-t
no :'jor -oreduction v;ac mounteC in Lond n . ariri" t.ic o'^son
of lf'05-C. Irviiv r :'?; i.n./;iile turned hi;: -attention to l'-ruc._t,
;r">. vici... it on 1'J r-econbcr. jv o 3hr-.ker nc.-'rc v:c c :'it on at tiio
Lycoun a-til the e^.rl.y -.tv.r3or of 1-C7, ane no no ;.v -xro'Tuction
vo.r. ~-v.± in ro'ii1 -1 ^irc until !^\cbeth t in lc-tc ' GOO' .b;-;r, IT-00.
There \:os no atton rit b; . .ny other? a'i.ii.'i^O'r.ont to nt' r~o ilxvkec—
pe r-rc on the c le of the AyoGim ra; •TU- /xaent 'uzitil Sapt x.ibor,
1. 7, ;;bon r;c\ry A:-u:or:,on returned to ^o. j...

263
Chapter Sixt
14RY Ai-TDE'tJSOW'S THE WINTER'S TALE - 188?•

264
wary Andersen's p.-oOuction of The Winter*o Tale opened at tLc
Lyceum on 10 September ICo? and closed on 24 larch 1888. On
the final night Miss Andcroon made a speech:
Ladies and Gentlemen - oinco I first came among
you five years ago, you have GO loaded me v.ith
proofs of your sympathy and kindness that I ohould
indeed be ungrateful if I did not feel deeply my
parting from you. That a play LJO clascical should
in the nineteenth century have had the longest run
since the great inccter created it three hundred
years ago speaks much for the refined taste of the
London public. It seems iiard to say goodbye, but I
hope to be back ; gain in a year or GO» ' ith
Toccibly another Shake: pc rorji production. In tiic
aeantime, my friends, I thank you a thousand aat
a thousand times for all yaur kindness.
( .oportod in The ranatic 'i:oviev;,
31 arch 3>,Stf)
;iicc Anderson :"id not return to London as a professional rctraca
. nor rid die -reduce another ^lay by ohako nor re: in l r ..c ori; 1
i'lio 1 t:ce in otr.• tford-u-on- 'v;.:a. /ho perforraancc added li
to her ro-iata.tion as a Shake-., r> car can actress. In IMie^L
ih (31 '(iw.urrt 1-C5) Clo::ont oCOtt co : :'l iao- t iat
"occacio.. ^1 flashec of the true spirit aiii::i,?tin.:- ,.lr. •J.:os;''caro 'c
lovely creation" ,;ere vitiated by "la-jc-oc into heaviness,...
cV.v action, rtuoiod pocec, and doo.?-voiccd, aiiecte^ uttcrrnce".
The tr "-Q r::u~: -oatcd that, bein*- by nature "the ideal vx.y
"iacbeth", c;lio v/; s not 1'itted for t.h.c 'art, and flat in tlic
first act she '• :'" oved "c^-miro \ithout archness and non> .''cr^uc;

205
where she should have been supplicating" (4 ooptember). ".~\

266
at home in her part. "\v. .A." in 'I'ho •'on., any (30 A?ril) rote
that her playing catisfied the eye, "but not the heart or tlic
intellect", and that her pose as a statue "v;ould have delighted
a sculptor"; but he doubted the v/isdoia of o-cic.ui;: r.o much of
Autolycus*s p'.rt, aad ,.iic, cd "the tears in tho voice" of
Heraione and "the free rr-lety of youth" in Pcrdita, ::;or was
he :,uro tnat the doubling of those two parts v/as altogether
a good iica. "lie public, it was ^w ected, r,:xould v/ait, and
hope that in London the actress would achieve "the tend 0:1110 GO
and the spontaneity at -.jrouont lacking".
"lie 'GCirion to play both Hermione and "Pcrdit-" appeared
to be a t-rr tificrtion of I.Iiss Andersen's affection for cla... -
ical c.. iniquity and, ^iaultaneoucly, a further attempt to
succeed in a part vhei'e ioty and irlish tenderness v;ere
called for. Juliet ..:i_jht rcc-airc the -.ctrecs to .aoJce credible
the coincidence of both mature and youthful characteristics
in one .JcrGonrlity: the doubling of 'iGrniione and Per6itr> j.iade
no such c >. ./.., . c - iiioc Aiidorson could endeavour to display iior
ability et both extremes of her rvii.r;e, ..ithout cti'ivinc; to
reconcile the one ith olio ot.acr. During the period since her
first aprer^rc-.nce in Lon' on, a number of "cl,.;,. ic i" roles had
been coricidci-od - she was at one st- ^e reported to bo -ore ->• ••.ri".; 1
a production 01' ^ , ..'bo line, designed by Lo/.ic ii-. fit Ic vith
coct^ner: in the n~ jv.ro opiate " o .- --O- nlticli" nrnr". r (IL^__^
the Clock, 29 .November 1884 )» and T Ifoun, 's Ion , one of her
fsvoarite il-;/^, caiiaot hove been fr-r f ro. i ]ier d?.if". :"..ut j^on,
she roco'niced, "held the lanp too iii£?.i for the Miy , and
labeling fell b- the vaysiue^ . oince !•'"'•' 0 Irving had been
a r')Vivrl of G pr •. ol:-iiuc, ;it:i dc;,i r.c: by Alv.u •-'.:.• ••''oLia,
but ? ^(..nsrcof tiiG ol..y'u U;ipo-oalarity pr. v ilocl ovor tho
;.'.t"or. -c u -t ...-.•... its L.taQaii^v ui/^ixt jii'ei', LU.IO. — jo-.i.^, u .,-iu oj.' o^u
-iro.joct .until ±901 . X.IG i:itcr*>; . lu_, '.:hicli hc.d not be n
seen in Lonaoii ,.ince tae vi, it of tiic LIcinii^;,on co: i .iniy ii:
1G31 and. h... c ; not received a J-.-J..^- : le native production. . i-ie
1 '.'?•-•, provided the ap : 'ro}--ri- te combination of oppoi-tuijitig^
for .'liss Ander;.on and. com:ierci-'l viability. Altl-yu-rli its
construction presented ; one difficulties to those ho ->rcf Gro­
an orderly and, byono Irinci of ectinato, r.ore credible cr^ma,
it h'-ic 1- bo n oronounced by f-f '^litt "one of the bort-- cti:\r of
our rat:.'.or'a ol; yn" . Charloc Kean's -oro.-'action, in l'"56, liad

267
set tho "TOCO' nt for archaeolofic 1 flis-nlny.
In pi/o.^ariiii. ^or acting edition the actress enjoyed the
ai'vico of Lord Lytton, Abbey and Henry Irviur;. She explained
in A ew • -onories the spirit in whioh she appro, ched th.c tas .:
In studying olio play, the rcaoon for it;, n a-ouceess
appeared to me to be the undue •."ironiinen.ee {iven to
several of the less in >ortant character a, and tho
con-KTitively short raid interrupted appearance of
the two heroines which breaks the continued interest
of the spectator. The first c ifficulty \;as to cut
those socoiifVry parts without iuraving the beauty or
IZKK:nii..oj of the text; and the next, to keep alive
the D-^iiipatliiec of the audience v/ith both Lemione
and Pcrdita ih on beginning to one!,
(^.246)
The at ten -t to lend unity to the play by doubling the roles
did not meet v/ith universal approval - a corresionc'.ent in
The " rrratic lie view co;::p'~rcd the feat to 'the received cuctora
of ^reii^h r.iclodrr'.nia, where the not^e. n-opc re vith her -rVby
in the prologue, and ic killed off in the intcrvrl bot'.voon
that and the firct ret, v;hen the child, ^ro-.m up, in doubled
by the same rctreso..." ,'.iss Anderson's intention "to cut,
trim and cerve u-p" 3hr.kecpe;\rc t wac oonothinf "only an
American v;ould attonvit or 'j.iini: of" ( _; n.ilia >yl'.;er 'ov.-inc,
"Ilcrr-iiono and Perdita", 30 April 1887). Truth obr,o.ovcr the
v/icdon of the n.ctreaa in trJrinc bot-i ptTts:
In :he firct plrce, people -;-;o to tho Lyceum
to see the beautiful ir^ry Ano rson and no
one elce; and if she coulc' 1. y -;Or,; ibly
..-.other, L'-U'hter, and -.-.ionthly-nuvf,e, co v.oll
us tho n: nless chilci of boontoc, her ridniroro
would bo ;/oll nlor.Ecd, and let .vrt ;: o hrnr:.
(1 :3 Se 7tcr-/ber 1" '"'7)
In t.uo second piece, by triis r.ivan^a.iont t-,cre v:as no -. nv'er
of the actress jcin^ outshone by a sulj^rri^ tc, -.vhich r-r.:.i;y
thought to have occurred in _^—^i^n :- P:.l "_, v:hen ,ujy
Roselle r,;ave a i luch-adraired performance as Cy:.iGc: , tlie i.culptor's
v/ife. Any qu.?,l;.io ..isc Andurr.on i;:-y have felt as to t..ie
artistic vrlirity of thic ^01-:^ man rcripl policy -..ere allrycf
by a hi;.;h authority - Ten-iyoon, consultoJ: as to t.ic -.visc.ovi
of the innovation, re- Tked:
Thp.nl: God the time is past for the J^££±2L
0 £ '•• to :e or nnr a io/::, ;\'-_7 -^
-."t^Tl——:—original tuinr-a are .olL-roceived

268
at first. Peovlc must rrov; e.ccv.rto.accl to what
is out of the common before r.uovrijin^ it. Your
icier., if carried out ; L you fool it", ./ill be
receiver .generally - and before long.
(,'. Fe?v; v v^-iofj. p.2-5)
To the attraction of her - cmonrlity and the novelty of
the doubling v:oulci be ad-ed the appeal of "clar.i.ical" c.ccuory
and rrocoorj. A£ rain, the major ocenic r rtioto of the eay were
to be employed - Gillian Telbin, Walter Harm, Pcrkina anc'
Hawes Crrven, but on tU.i a occasion there was no "director"
or pcvlr.or. The pro'-ranae ackuo-. lee" ; ed Napier LolCiim as
"Sta^re .'Irna'-or for Mirjo AnderLon", but v.ithout ,the cu;; c.y'^ion
tiit t this indivicu; 1 h d any recpoaibilitios beyond those of
the coniiiion— or— ^rrdon or" a:--?.if;.cr. cither ir: : '-field, nor ;.-^iy
otlitsr "expert" \r. ,o credited \vith the pro^uctioii, recnonGibility
for v/hich rested on f.ie actress. j.'Iiis h-.'d been the cace
with T, ^ou Li!:o It at Stratford, anc1 it apoo. rrj olr..t ; ftor
Romeo av.o. J;u.i; ; t the cnnloyrient of a de^i .ncr-r'iroctor ;:nr no
longer felt to exert ; .ny influence on the niblic. No ^.^rrgrt-vn
her. .1..in:; "the production as a fa t of archaeology a;roearpr.) in
the nevrr j'jr • ^r on tac pro^rc_j...cr:.
ii. The ^erfom-nce.
The mo.,t inriortant source of infor.:i.r 'tion r-. : r in,;, ary
And roon's ;;'o, ci^" o^ The winter*s Talc ir.. a fuliy-annoo' -•'--:•"
-t ;'';c-:.v .nn/ ::cr'c c,> -r, endorsed by r t'£r->ier Lot:.drui am. 1 nov. ii:
the Polder ^li.:-J:ec-:-cc.re Library ( .int.'. .- 3: ^hattLici;, ^.^
ii-tor'c . • lo 2&). In actuition to bii^x, .^GS and oettii\r;t;;, tiic
book i -cluclec call-ii;;os, timiivo and a note of t.ae o.i. ;cii;.i?iiG
of tiio Lyceira ctaco: t_io r)j.-oocoiiioia Ojioniag v/^o Ji^irtj-u :^co
feet, cix inches v/iae and t?i rty--'Jv;o feet, ten in^hcc hijh,
and tiio ct","e v;ac forty-one foot deep, xhio depth could bo
extended by uce of a tr/onty-t-iree i'ojt doop area i.:. the i-o ^
sccne-c.jck, and tlio cellc'-ra{.:o all !-0 ;.ved an elovon-^'o^t ,',i-/-:. :J.ao
^rid -.vao -uu-:ii-b3--ci. lit feet above tac i'o,,r-co.- c& bo, r.:.:o f and
tu'Ciity-covon above the uoot ge.
•jJIio .i-oia-o-coijy irj "^acod ,..oon the Chi::\vick Press edition
of liiss And or;;; oil's active to;.t, -.Iiic-.i v/os ic. uo-: i i 1^0?, and
differs iron it in sor:ic wrticulrrc. ^lic text was al;;o pablirhed

in R "bouvenir" of tae play, ..ith illmjtrr.ti MID by Ed.;in
John ...l.i.is and Joseph Anderson one! selections from Andrew
Lcvey'a ..vuuic.
The curt; in rose on the interior of Looiitos 1 palace, designed
by Telbin, "with the blue Sicilian bay in the background, and
the re re beauty of classic art au,"c;/ted in every rrou ^iii",
costume and cccc^ory". i'he L owiiotage area was eighteen feet
deep, with a flight of three ctoo::, from oioc to sic.e of the
upcrb. : o area, leading jo a terrace ./here- marble seats looked
out tov/ards the sea • Archidamus and Camillo were discovered
amidst a aniall crov/d of courtiera, soldiers anr 1 slaves - at
one point in the mimed business oreect

P70
inforn- ti-»n ;v.-c rot ^r-.a^i ,-?s auickly r>e •->',• itole. At the
excl :.'.•!. \tioi'! '-Tiie h.r:~venr cont.lnao t'-^ii? lovrr-;j" .r rni i^ r~!
rppccT-c^, coring do 11 the tepc, cta=;o-ri:^t and accomp-nicd
by a lacSy-in-. ritin£. u© ran to Ftailio, who ki-jr^ ;;in K^/I
and Oreiv her across to st;- c-ri^ht, bo-.vin* to some -entlemen
ctt-incSin,-; ncnrby. Then he was drawn off :t. •.;-•s
Lcorrtcs . -nic "I \c.y not verily" (45), v/l-ioii f^Vi-r and cliild
rotirod u-o— ;'t."./"o» 1'he ror.oon for tlii.s nu.-;onco is :iot o. ^i-ront*
The cojiv?r:;::tion hod ui'itil now bo'?ii oublic - ; t Polixcaon'G
a .'.'.cent, "YcviT iiost, then, Lip.cir.ia", tiioro ;vc',3 a • i-Mvcv -oat
of saui;jf,.ct uon from -11"^ but ;:t "^oruione'c linoo,
Hot yDur ; r:.olor, tiion,
!'-ut your kill'' liosteo;::* Co;;o, 1*11 /nier.tion yoa
Of ;;;y 1 rci ' o tric!:c and y^urs •.-•hcn you - ore bo;r::;.
(5J-61)
thr t ••!."•(? bo^-'-'n to emrity of ,?11 except an offir:e'. ¥ , Archi< rnuo,
Gl,'U.o^ues, ,ioh tu-ic, ^..ILicj ..^o s.i.y ..-reel in tlio colo^ ^ do rt
the C'.ck of t-ie ; tr^ge. Lcor^cra watciiocl Polixoncrj nac1 r^ionc
from nn :. - tr; ; e ->o, itio:i, comin'- dov.n at "In he v;on i t?" (86)
ace or; r-.iic'' by v --"ilian. Polixenos srt on tno couch, o tare-left,
v-ltJ-. I":- ;:illuc, one! ;^ive orders ii? cumb • hov; to A:rch.i r -:::U7} •- /ho
dir-ni; T:er' t'.iosc ti 1-! v/pitirif in tlio colo:.r:"-ro* Hcrrr.ioiie rov fi
to join -olixenco, .-iivl tao p;iir v;ont :.i;-..tafco, lo- vi;- ^rriiliun
to r>x,->.y \;ita r;omo flov/errj on t. ; ;c- oouch. Oconteo camo clov.n i?it
to v.'atc.i
_o ;] ; ii; le friont:. iii.j f .- r is i/rain/;; "loodc.
I -irva t.-c^or cordia 0:1 DC; ^7 !io :rt f fncerj.

271
Whilot he v/as cpeakinr, J^onilius went to offer Hermione a
flower, and then returned to Leontes, who held hin ; t : nn's
length and asked "Art t.iou my boy?" (120). As he progressed
in his jealousy, Leontec nervously held l^niiliuG first on
one knee, then the other, placing him directly before him
£"yet they say v. care/ Almost as like PS e c:;gs" - 130) and
embraced him ("uy colloij"). Disturbed by his behaviour,
Polixenes and ilermione came down to •.:.]: ",.ix- t meuns oicilir?"
and Leontes movee ri^ht with Inmilius as the two eat down on
the couch. As Leontes exhorted Hermione to r ive >lixenes a
r;oof! welcome - "Let v/hat is dear in Sicily be cheap" a chorus
was heard pianissimo off-r:t ro nt the back. Hermione and
Polixenes wont down the stcyic at the back left of the stage,
and Leontes followed to vvr.tch tliem.
r::dliuG loft the str-ge rt the firct injunction "Go play"
(190), and Loontes summoned CcLaillo. nurin.- tiaeir cxc^nre
soft ;aucic W^,D !i? \r< (ber iiaiin^ at 346), and the ceene ended
\vith Leontes *s o::it:
I v/ill seem rriciiclly, ac thou hact en vised mo
(350)
Cr.nillo ctood in the centre of the rrbr^o, lor.t in tho.i -Jro,
nc the t :blc;.'U curt ins fell. Clouent Scott coff.ilained tli,'t
this vvr.s EH unncceccnry and undcoir/ ble cl'iiorrtion:
Tlic v.iind refuses to pr,u, :e before the vi;.it of
Polixenorj, \, ith all itc fatal conronacnces,
rre ov: :r and clo^o v;it.i.
(Tiio ' ••ily rclogrr^Ia, 12 oo
He attribacoo "iirlf tli. -.voriryiiif .^ir tlar-.t was folt t rou
tiie performruice" to t.ie contiriu- 1 u,-.;e of t'^.o tr.bleau-Ciirt
"the tiboniiio ble dcvieo... ..hich maajg; rrj v.'i/ly iiojinc rfoec
not interfere ./ith t^.c i^.terest of a >1. y". Lil'e u.:ie vicible
transforaations of tlie 1GC4 Roaoo and Juliet, tiie t.-.blc;. u-
curtains u; od by i/'iss .-uidorson v;e..\. con.oiueroci a hindrance
rather t\ n rm. rid td) i • luraon. It is not clear v/hnt rl tornative
V.T-.G acceptable to ) Irygoorc .ID a ac n;_, oi1 oivicliiv;
one scene from another - apparently the flying in of r. fr.mtocene
in view of t.ic . a- icace \vac co:isidcred leer, uictrpc-jin/;;
th.-.n the conc-oal-icnt of itc cetti'V;* Ccrtr.iiily tho i^movation
had still to prove its orth in 1393, when i'elbin v;roto tliat
t,-.bleau-ca t ins \verc, in tJiic country, "lel^ora u.ed, and...
not very ncccpt.oble to the pab.'.ic": • -c

272
he mentioned those used in the Irving pro< uc-cion of ..O..IQQ
and Juliet'. In 1CP7 the - ir>logue between the Bohemian lci;-ir
and Oa;.iillo was separated from the p.-^ceding linos, in oiver
to create a "carpentcic' scene" urin ; ..iiich the elabor te set
of the firct scene might be struck, and that of the queen's
apartricvit prepared. AeC. cod to a i'ront-ccona of "Gard -us before
the Palace" (by Hann), tiie ^.v^a^o muct lir.vo seemed perfunctory
and lacking in force.
1'Iie third scene took up thirty feet, , ix inches of the
stage's depth; a series of i'lown pieces is inr ic: toe! by
Napier Lothian's notes, the first set nine foot beck from
tne curt in line, the next ;vdx foot, six inches further back,
the ...ext eight feet j.ror> the re- r::oot, and that svven from the
backc-Jro-}. Jlii;. episode, v.xth the revelation of t'n of the
surroundiii"s. itii a mock-serious unile .Jie invites
her little boy, "pray you sit by us,/And toll's a b"le,"
and then follows a delicious scene, u'lich shovvs '' r i:-;o
.'Uidorson ^.t her very beet. AJ t'.i'j little fellov; toxins,
"There v,-as a Man, d'.volt by a cliur-cii-y rd", she
shrinks from aim in pretended i'er-ir, and t v:?n cov r
iii:''i \:it:L ::ic'-.e,j.
i'To:-a t.:c prou.tbo'jk it c.n icrrs tlx o -,!.• .uilius acco:.vs. niec t.ie
line,"Yonc crickets r; ~11 not licr.r it" by pointinr; to the
fireplace, •'rom tlio cano ronrco there is some in.ic;'tion of
tac silent bu iiicss v/iiich ^eceocd tlie firot Line of the r.cene:
Song pp behind
s scroll from her
ix,- iid. oho retu .OB reaci.uG whon he pit ces h: ,.i- .
on Tis-r eyes. 3he -our:ho;:; .-in ::v;r.7, he run- round
in front of cvuc'i, "^ els, -1-cos hrnd under her
c^in and vhen she lets tlio .jcroll f"ll —-->c::s
it out of her n'-nd. .lion , onr over lody xcc
[i.e. crorsesj rl^./lj at bad: \d-ch byre and off.
1 ve at b.'^c 1 : re".iovos eu::liionc and orcit L.C.

273
Hermi ne then oxcl, imod, "Take the boy to you: he co troubles
;MO ..."
.,rj.iilius • s story had juct l)< uut, in -o^rtoiaimo, whon
Leontes entered upstage i'i';ht accompanied by a lord. Evidently
a curtain still conceo.3

274
of fifty-six minutes. The brief front-scene between Pr.ulinr,
and the Gaoler took three minutes, and was followed by her
confrontation of Leontes with the new-born child. Thin f cene
was much simplified, and took only ten minutes, using the
set of the Queen's apartment from the last scene of Act One.
The pi y then jumped to the nea-coast of Bohemia (ohake; crux's
III.3); this scene, shorn of the Clown's humourous description
of the shipwreck and Antigonus's death, took only nine minute; .
There followed an interval of ten minutes, c'urirr: rhich the
stage w;:s set for the trir.l ocene.
The economies of time effected by the compression of the
fir; t and second acts were inci ted by the fact t.i; t the
trial scene took ten minutes' intorvr.l to : et, -a^yec?. for
fifteen minutes, ruicl needed a fifteen minute intorvrl to be
struck, I'he pa. rr.^es onit'ued in the early actc were in some
instance... very inoorwnt. L coin; 1.^*3 character lort a rood deal
through the omiacion of the conclusion to II«1, where after
Hermione'c exit, he strives at once to justify hie actions
and to deny t-ic necessity of ,1uritificr.tio/:« 5iail rly his
cpT-cchos to .V:': >nilius in I»2 h. d be n cut C. >..n t expur vtinr
the violently b. ,wdy In.n -..u^;-:e in which he botivyo a vivid
sexurl i :.-!,- .^iu. t.i on. Leontes's af:onioed o:ccl.- ^ ir tion, tlv.t he
is not to b- t'^ou^xt cs ' .V.e oC dispr rr,£i-'.g; 'iia bonour vr'.-i
ccn.oo, was reaovea loy ..,±GS Ai.uu^-son. Tlio lii. jc ia question -
•.die purity and v.hitcness of :.

27'J
the ;..ur.:piciona of Leontes se-^m reasonable" by her die -)1 • .y
of "forwardness rather than Iriendliness" (17 September). Vho
.. vie*.. missed any r c ictinction" i.i her u. anncr:
...there ic none of the v recious

276
F.H. K c din, as Polixenes, \vr-s better-looking but hie acting
was "rather he vy and lifeless" (12 -cptoraber).
The three re ones which rarde up ' :ioo Andernon's ceeond
act air not elicit much comment. The ^oming r: o:;t noted thr.t
"sevor 1 titters" were raired by "the careless mrnner in
whicli tlie eloquent Paulina had dis>>or,ed of the imVnt •. fter
her crnh. tic r^-ncrls on its bclv If to the vindictive fnthor",
and that the abandonment of Perdita on the cea cor.ot lo.ot
some of its effect b/ the child's beinr- "too n, 1 - bly a doll,
a ;iorr,cl of unreality in the mid. t of elaborate rer licra". The
scene of !"Jf?ulin;i*s upbraiding was cut by a half of it lines,
and in the; abbreviated III.3 no bear pursued Anti'onur,. tlaic
omission v/ns ;;.onornlly v;e corned, b:it some exprerjoec doubts
concerning the onic.,rjio.'i of Time, ao Choruo* Cli. rles Ke-Lii,
who was t.:ou;;ht to h:'.ve erred in ;..llov:i:r the bear to cii^r-e
Anti;;o:iuo, had r.u'.cle a splendid spectacular tableau out of Time,
and I/Iiss Anderson had riissed a "le^itiriate" O'^ortmiity for
displaj^. The r.Iiort scene in -.liich Cloor-ienes and "'ion diccusc
t:

Illust ation 13 The Trial f The Winter's Tale,
Lyceum 188?.
Following p.2?6

277
moved towards her. Tier next 1 nr; speech (58 -tc.) wns cut,
together ith the lines follow an it, u.-. to Leontes's ";\rj
you v.ci'o .orjt oil cii, .me -" (82). In Mar done 1 o next r-noech,
coiificirv; her fr.te to the oracle, hies Anderson altered three
i;orde, much to the :.n:.io,.vnce of i'lie oaturdry Reviewt "The bug
.hich you ould/...ri-ht me ith" became '".avt .hich you o:»ld
fright me ith"; "f J r t-iraito of ny body" be'- -c "firr.t-fruit
of ,.iy marri L;c"j and - ?ijrocl.'. inert a i-c u.\.'ot fl w;-s r.;ortened to
"P-j'ool i..;.,d r, . lit on' 1 . Iloruionc's complaint t!v t -ior i ror'n'"'^-cy
ha;; be..n di;.regarded ±-\ surmaoning nor bef01 o t..e court (10"'-
104) w-s alr.'O deleted.
•jooutes "uiirned liis b 1 clc on T :or;.iione c.t iior vvorcis "Therefore
.roc.^ed", but turned to f:',cc liar ;uiLhcc! question, "Iiov:I Gone?" arid, t.o her
\70i,ion r ?.i hod J:o licip her anc 1 the crov/c1 move 1 forv,-:irc", she
colla.v. ccl. „ .'. .ic V;;"'.G ho; rr yc the scone novcd v/iftl.y to '^11
ono:
Lcoiitor;_; -iov: :o^'J
°'7ulin:.!t ,hic iiov;c ir.; mortal to o.io QUO on: !••• 1: ;'ov.n
And r^ec -..-hit north ir, r o.-...- .
Tho ''U.-T-, fie i'uc a,
I'he cv;oot'3'u, Ccr.r'ot ^ror.ture's ucr:c!i
Ani.- v- n; oanc e f o r' t
o dro'vod dov.n yot.
(ilo ; 11 ";ill curt? xu)
(i44b, i-:-5, ry/'-'j)
The re o.or;,c of Leontoo and Pauli,ic • t; ret .vies, with, .hich
ohahecjo re ended hio cceno, v/cro omitted: in oh; -.-.tibli:. hod
text Leontes's li^-cr: 146-15-', ('^ -o -• - :i3nce...") were in­
cluded, but the pr.> t-co y ronovcs t: : .

27 ; :
Al though opposed to a histrionic . Ouiiocl compoced of
statuesque attitudes linked by explanatory dialogue, the
eorren-nnrtcnt of rjlio stive could uot v.ithhold

its early speeches the actress "seemed ockv/ard anr ill ;>.t ease"
and '.iif,took "wryness" of counton-nce for "eloquent ox .rcooion
01 relief". The "r'-.-'l Hcrndone" ., .. co^rletolv hi/'iicn from
tri a eyes of the oeturea^ jic/yj^^ critic:
...the elaborately modulated utterance of the
r;vK'OC ,00 (especially in !;ao treic'l icenej, iuh
rll olio long and totally >. ;o.- nin^lcnn TV ur. : i^rdt:v 01 the cccne.
The intention Doorno to IIPVO been an emulation of the eininrcn
way ,,itu c...-jv/clc, but in 1C01 the oainot; ikia i/iriaidiv lir.iii/;;
of r-'ei-tare and :nove !ent had seemed out of dt'te cnri fuc-oy, and
_-ii£\cii iir-cl CO.JL .enteri:
vhe one i ea of tae:. c i'ct re i. •. 'jait; c-iece
i r r p\/i o^- "oi^' *" r ' '"* "'01 j — *' ,-i' ii i a
foubt, fit- i .o an ^"~^^^~~-~--,,,, ri0t . :lng if
nofc claara. al and otrictly correct."
(11 JTUIO 18 1;
A c- rtoon oho -> '.joi^.u . io'.i w-"iC2.i>
r:o on, when l'(.-.n.i± no enter;?, v^:;.iC be alone
;,aj.j ic;: \r'-; to ov.r'inp the ch. i- c ce:. 1 of 'G-io

SCO
including Archer, of aota, pans and coal ecuttle,
•i'-uc araGia.an.je had ;jo f r talMi ei.^it.y-o^'.: ainitcri, ten
of t.-cm beiiv the interval ->roceaiu;9; the tri' I a.cene: aft< r
another wait of fifteen minuteE, the fourth act bo. -fa. ahis
v/cc coirooscc of e ...u.eii-L.li'jrt cried.. ccene at the caur-; of :0ohomi;?.,
(IV. L.), v/hich. ivat; aC'-atcht-:-. i, ;;.:_ree ;.. .^.'-.ter,, Aut:>lycuo l £j
a- err-'^ce and i:.i;.: robbery of the Clu^n's lu^c, :hich took
a further ui_. kt -viinutcc, anci IV. 4., v.iioL;o oiflit-"'.:'_'u reo nnc^
x Oiity—niiie liucL vve^ Q GO curt' il;,:"1 PO to ? roouso r. rcono of
t :..cirjy-five :iinutea < : ur: ti-^:. Ifo voices v/or rrdbc. over the
cute i.u-'de in the fir; t of t-.>

261
i-Ievs, he a scared "bright and lively".
After Autolycus's '.xit, the tableau curtains dor ed
again, to > icn on a act by Hawes Craven v;hich won general
ad ir;. tion:
... a for t glade in oil the b^uty of early
sunnier, Ghut in on either hand by .''. ' -in,:: wooded
hills and lending to a blue and placid lake,
beyond which in the £:>r distance is soen a liuo
of im and lofty 'omitrinc.
(Tlic 'Dramatic .Rcvi •••';/)
The Daily Newc ad irod tiac"rustic cott cc, : tone-built, one!
tnatohed" and "the overhanging era ,o and v/indint: paths, v.ith
the ,roy hills in the distance", and Scott, in The Daily
/.;e_.l;yiF^Iph» praiced the scene's Engli: nno; o. Al~: aif^h the
di t nt mountains anO the lake might be the landscape of rn
im; ;;iiirvry Belie .ii;:n ceabor.rd, t!ie woous and bracken were un—
mifjtakeably "old En land" ajid "remembrances of Cobham or Knole
or Arundel, but none the less welcome or ch ruing 11 , j^iq ._:.'--T.-.
mentioned Perdita's listening to "the ;ju, ic of the r.tro.":!lot",
but did not disclose whether real water w.s used on : b:.ce,
or itc sou.ic preoent only to the ii.i ^ina'tion.
Morizel iv; L discovered, laying i"ov,n hir, hat and clorl:
on a b. ilk at tlic audience'c left. The ro>jyb-co ->y iiic'ic tor:;
"brio, of looking in pool" - to enoure that he w-u iire;naroO
for a •: cting v/ith Per ita? Then the rjtc\n;o directions arc ac
f ollov/s:
3 chilc.ren on back L run a:-:. & off R.
Jan asleep H on bundle of far, 'otrj. 3 c'liil rrn
tickliii, iiis ear & girls lo -kii\ out of co'ot; :e
\vindow - Old .;l'.eo '.ore xec. -,:. to L. at back
v:.ootin^ 2 aerO.caeii fror.a L r /» Lr u li heard ivi
C3t. :a;;e. 2 i.als run ovr to pojl .it.i j-^r
\,kicl.'. t.'i^-'y fill ^ c,o UT) neetirif- the 2 licrdraion,
they 11 "_o off R.
Per-:"ita entered frof; t.io cecono ontr-.-'nce, ct ,;;o-l:fo ar.'.f2
crossed to t.io bvck ri lit, u i-sta.^e of Plorisel, .'i'l-i;: iron
hin. No L t; .^e-diroctions precede tlic fir t wor-' ; c of tao cccne
("These your u; iu:_;u. 1 v/eods...") but it seems likely that rlie
let Iiini ::.iov/ of ac.r .)ro,^cnce in ,oono .-lajrful .-jtaiirier, ^^rli: -;s
ui-otinc her II.UKS over >i:. eyes. The ^ .iris obli i ly I i't
tue p: ir alone, seated ct. r;c-l

. Illustration
Mary Anderson as Perdita
Following p.2Cl

282
laughter and nur.ic v/eie heard iron the orroocjite oic'e of the
Gtage, and the ohephcrd and Cl.>v;n enter cc! from the cotta;;e.
Three girls came on at the back of the ...tagc, tv/o children
ran acrocc from ctaco-ri-ht to left, and the dozing ;:.- n near
the lovers roused tinsolf and walked off. Plorizol, seeing
this ctivity, ron upctage, lookoc! in the rircction of the
music, and turned to .Pcro.it a:
See you guerta a vo ch.
jWreca yourcclf to entertain them st>ri ;"-rtly
And let's be red -.vith art-:.
(52-4)
-ore pea.oants, including Monaa, Dorcas a:id an old 1- O.y, c; no
on from tlic prompt ;:;ii e witii some of the ::urjicir.no, v/ho
c; t bli.lied themselves on a bank at the rdt'e of tho c.;ta,ce. The
Olo Glieplicrd to >k UT a position in the centre, c:dxort,iii ;:;
Perdita to entortaj.n thoir £;J.O,;/GG, \;hil: t °olixonos anc. 0:.nillo
entered a.m."; tood on the ^von^t-c'i^o bo.nk. PercTita did her
fa.tnor's "bi 1 rin^, and asked Lo:..-caG for t.'ie i'lov.ers» ,/hich tli
girl Jlirov.' to nor. sith "welcome to our f ha-ring'' Perdita
Cfine clov.oi to the front, and I-oli:cenes, utill bc-hiii;. her on
the )ror:nt-;..ice banl;, exclaimed,
A f r one are you - v/oll you fit our a^-oc
ith flov-erc of v;inter.
(77-9)
Craillo immediately o.c'ued, from bchiiiv r tree (:JODG bu;:inor:G
may be unrecorded here):
I i;:houlO leave raisin.", *.;cre i of • our flock,
aid only live by -yz±n^.
Thus til.:: viiolo of fercfita'B cliacu. i DII of nr-^irc amT art -.vac
o;;:i 11 o C..
i'hrowin v the rcniainin. xl.aors to tlr.: pea: nto, ?crrita
came dov,-n to the centre and opoko .;itli FI r?,ol, ./hil--;t the
stage filled .vith more countryfolk and v...Lci :?.;:. li?n preparations
v/erc complete, the d; nee, clioroo-r; ohed by r . '.,-. ur -±:.ic,
Dance
3 i'our ^.niG on chould^rr;
Kick by couples and I;urn
"Pui'-i:: h; iii le f .ce to i> co
nrcs ivl ax. and back

'*"> D ""}
£• J
Under and over oin back and for.-^rd
Turn girl - kneel
Girl rune round boy
Th. ead needle 2 front fours
Ladies cli in b, ck four
fii'lc run up, boy a follow and
turn firls \vho turns (sic] boyc
Front four run up and uown again
with Perdita and form 2 lines
up & dov;n stage arms on shoulders
Kick, separate- in couples, girls
^ands to back of head, thread the needle
in 6 and 2 fours, -;irls run un followed by boys
who brin; them : .11 forward & try to kiss them .
T'liir, nondescript combination of Ln/ lish and Greek folk dancing
aiic .::u;.ical comedy production .lumber won three encoroo on tlic
first id. -it, raid afforded .Tisc And or son an o -oort unity of
• icol. yiii^ yet r'jiotli.r accomplishment, .the j..rp. praiced Perdito.'c
"delightful no.ivetc" and "/firlirli ctivity and enjoyment of
exercise", and The /omiixr; Poot aav; rcvor^led in t'V' performance
"r.ll tiie bright rnir.it ion of firlhoxl". .-.:ie Pcai -11 a-azotto
vvac /.rrtified,
to see o'iio lovely crer.ture cl' 3 c) in hite, \.:.th
her cc^.rlc lv ir flo"'iiifc Cov.n to lior •..•.•."•.i:',t,
lovin / .. ,:,. ';".cs . itii her Florizcl, 'bjs.'.in^; ilov/crc
to lior ;. u-'Jiiiv' ""*ln.yf ellov/c, "rncin,'" 0.0 , u-v^le anc1.
pliant as a reed, ruiti j jiviiiif; the ->retty /i, dri^-al.
The dajice, to the • ccorr? .ni.icnt of trbor, flute an: 1 cy.-.b'-ls,
was a di tinct r.uccc -p.,
I'h'-' rc:::-in

Ha, ha, what a fool honesty is}
I picked and cut most of their festival purees;
And had not the old man come in with a hubbub
againct his daughter and the King's con and
scared my choughs from the chaff, I had not left
a puse alive in the whole army.
(604-9)
During this, blue lime-light had begun to suffuse the stage,
DO that the end of the ccene was a mo nlit picture of Perdita
setting out to voluntary exile. Shakespeare's scene ends with
the comic optimism of the Clown and Shepherd, and their touching
faith in Autolycus as a providential figure ("He was
provided to do us good"): this was the ending retained by
diaries Kean's version, but Miss Ancurson felt much more
strongly the pathos of Perdita's t,ioption.
The second part of the play was civen, thought the
reviewer from The Marning Post• "with much more c irit than
its earlier and stronger passages", and The Dramatic Review.
whose critj.c had disliked the trial scene, allowed that with
Perdita»s appearance "a delightful change came over the scene".
The Stage, on the other hand, found her "OG: entia'.ly modern"
and Archer complained of a "clear misreading of the poet's
intention" in tlie "mystic hesitation" with which she addressed
Camillo and Polixenes in welcoming them to the feast. Fuller
Hellish*s Florizel was "ardent" but "handicapped by an unrociantic
individuality" (The Times).*- Punch found iiim "oainc;
talcing, picturesque and conscientious" - faint and unpromising
t) raise.
The scene had taken twenty-five minutes, and was followed by
twelve minutes' wait whilst its net (v;hicli took up thirty-six
feet of the stage'3 depth) wac struck and replaced. The first
scene of the final act was relatively short* -A woman's voice
was hoard sinking, and the curtain rose to reveal a room in
Leontes*G palace, where Cleomenes, Leontes, aulina and Emilia
were ^roupsa on the .ota^e-richt j the singer stood oV-;c-left.
The dialogue was r.iuch abbreviated, vdth the loss of Dion's
aurr.eotion that Leontes choald marry a^ain and P&ulina'a
insistence that he should not (24-49) and, ; non. ct other minco
details, of Florizel f s pretence that his "wife" is the dau;,:at r

285
of on, lus, King of Lybia (151-177). The scene lasted acvan
minutes, and was fol owed by another of the .same ('oration -
V.2, cut to half its lorvth.. Cleomenes and T'ion replaced the
First Centleman and his peer, and, as a Gesture towards
historical consistency, the sculptor of the statue became an
anonymous "r&re master". Autolycus's meeting v/ith the two
trnnaformed rustics was kept, although the omission of the
last one hundred and sixty-nine lines of IV. 4 deprived the
later scene of its point.
The fin, 1 ccene 01 the play provided Hermione'a statue
v/ith an ecclesiastical setting: "A Chapel in Paulina's House",
A stage cloth was I,. 1 id from the curtain line to a depth of
twenty feet, and a fli ;ht of steps was erected from the rear
of tliis flooring to the back of the scene* At the top of these
steps ivas the statue, and as the curtain rose Paulina was
discovered standing on a lower step - a gro.'p &f musici no
with pipes and harps occupied the down-stage corner on the
prompt sice. The prompt-copy shows little of interest until
the statue begins to move. As Hermione descended, the music
played fortissimo, falling to a pianissimo as she extended her
arms to Leontes. By omission of all between line 129 ruif 1 the
end, loraione was siven the final speech of tae play:
...For thou Perdita shalt lioar that I,
Knowing b Paulina that the oracle
Gave hope thou ,vast in being, have preserved
Myself to see the issue.
All yet seems well if ends so meet
The bitter pact, more welcome is the sweet.
The coacluclinc couplet v;as from All's Well That Enc.s ?/ell (V.3.
326-7)- Jliss Andercon omitted a v;ord from the original, i.liicii
reacls "if it ends so ncct"). In r>lace of tlio processional exit
indicated in the full text by leontcs 1 "hastily lead rv;r:y",
the curtain fell on a "picture" of the re-united f ..lly as an
off-stage chorus rjrnc a/id tie orchestra played, forti:.rjj;.io.
The rjcene wao sir moles sly cut - over cd.;;ht of its one
hundred and fiity-five lines were dclotcf1 - but the ir.nrct
of the performance could lirrdly be domed. The gra included
the fir.; 1 coup, i-: 'ito list of reasons for ovrlo i:in.f iss
Anderson»s fr.ilin : -o:
That Miss Anderson did not fail in ii?r self-

-Illustration 15 —
Mary Anderson as Hermione
Following p.285

286
chosen attempt; that the rtificiality of the
"double" an-ango^cnt inthe last act was not
painfully apparent or hi jhly illusion.-, ry [sic]
in -roatly to her credit, and we would easily"
forgive greater flaws tlian any which were arn-
; r:\p-t in her performance for the sake of Hermione's
superb reception of the news of the death of her
little &oa...for the delightful naivete"of her
Pe-.-Oitci. ..and for the picture of sublime beauty
at the end of the play, when the seemingly sculptured
Hermione noves slowly from her pedestal and
desce.ids the long flight of steps into the
arme of expectant, y^t half-hesitating,
Leontcs.
Even t.ie hostile Dramatic Review conceded that in this scene
Hiss Andercon, "unimprecsive in the character of the ovirv:,
breat'iin: , suffering Queen" was "an ideal figure as Hermione,
the : till and silent statue", Odell, v:ith his habitu. 1 enthusiasm
for the picturesque, recalled in 1920 how, sc the red
velvet curt ins concealing the statue were dr^wn • ci^c, "one
had an impression of almost illimitable space, white marble
steps leading up and up, the vir,ta terain-ted by the statue":
And what a statueJ Mary Anderson in the -prime
of her clacsic beauty, posed as only chc could
oocel As she clowly came down those .vbopc, she
presented a picture given to any generation to
behold hardly more than onco.g
Clement Scctt thought the pecVstal too high, "L r.iiiii .king the
effect of tl-o picture", and offered an interesting obcervation
on Llie pooe adapted:
"iss Mary Ancleraon clooc not, lilce JJrc Charles
^ean, ctancl like a bashful maiden, listening to
a favoured GuJ.tor, to illustrate the lines of
Leontes:
OhI thus she stood,
3veii v/ith c-uch life of mnjecty,
./hen first I wooed her!
';ut t an she did in Galatea, otancle a living,
breathing- sta.tue, well worthy of the enthu;:ir,sm
of Polixenes..*
The ..aturday Review cooke of "the ct; tue of Llornione with the
lirht turned onto it", ano other accounts cu. /:st a use jf
light in-", nc well as the victa of steps, to separate the fi ( ;.ure
of Hermione i'ro.ii the other ^rrtici " nts in the scene. ,;o
limiting cues r^.re ,-;iven in the -prorot-bool:, and the ::ly ot _.,

287
at 103 - "You perceive she stirs*1 . In 1857 Charles Kean's
directions had included general movements of terror (91) and
awe ("; 11 fall on their knees" as Hermione turns her head ;:t
100). v»'lien Leontes exclnimed "0 she's warm", they all raised
their hands and a "Grand burst of music - chorus" iv/as heard.
The stage-manager was itwainued to "raise flote a little" .
Kean had included all but cixteen of the lines following 128a,
where Ttary Anderson had ended the r>lay, paying more attention
than the actress to the denoumerl' 4 significance for the other
characters.
The production was one of the purest examples of tableaut
Shakespeare, and as such it enjoyed consider; ble success.
On the opening ni..?ht no.-rie inhabitants of the pit were disruptive
in thair protects about the further restriction of
their area of the auditorium, but no serious mishaps narred
the nerforraance, and, at two hours and ei fc^ht minutes, it did
not exceed t.ie usual length of programmes at the Lyceum, "cvcrtheless,
critics were not behindhand in objecting to flics
Anderoon's way v;ith the National Poet and his creations. Scott
was the most eloquent and authoritative of the reviewers v;ho
dialiked the actress's interpretative method:
icrnione is more than a beautiful wom^n ooced
for figure on a Vedcev;ood r>laque; Ver'.ita xc
..luch more than :n artist's model. In DO: king
change the actrccs arrived at . n even, wellordered,
bl .meless monotony.
He complained of a Id: of intellectur.l and cpirit x:.l dcith:
from her delivery of the text it was not cacy to
notoct if lies Anderaon h; d otudied either
v;oi:;D.n very i lucli cave in externals. It di(n not
matter what t.icir nlnds v;ere about, so long no they
lo ked well and poocc well.
Miss Andcr; on»a way of acting was, like Irving'c, predominantly
visual: in Irving, t'.ic appeal 1' y in the actor's o.bility to
depict intellectual and or.iotional workings of the :.dnd, but
Miss Anderson' s efforts appeared to contribute to an absence
of intellectual or emotional por.er - Her characters v;erc reduced
to a series of oi.OTlified crises. Irving might £,how the conscience
of Mathias in tho way in which he untied hir; lioe, and

288
in a continuous aeries of betraying gestures and inflexions,
but Miss Anderson*3 imperconations moved ackwnrdly from the
depiction of one extreme emotion to that of another. It would
be tempting to interpret her method, and its critical reception,
in terms of contemporary discussion of literary v .lues in
painting - by such an analogy, Irving would figure as a skilled
narrative painter, Ifliss Anderson as a histrionic .Irna-Tadema,
unhaonily compromising liar art with the theatre's ineluctable
demand for narrative progression. This view would be more
charitable, and it is one aw; -;csted in her autobiorrc: ?hy. ohe
left the stage beceuce it coulJ. not suit itself to the nature
of her gifts or her artistic conceptions - a process of disillusionment
which she called "the constant crumbling of one's
idealo" (A :-ew 'emorieo, p,129). By ..uch .n estimate *"ary
Anderson might appear an artist born before her time - to an
age not yet ready for the abandonment of narrative, for
Maeterlinck or for i.cinivrdt's The Miracle, and for a theatre
using simplified and mystical fables, and settings of symbolist
economy or (in Reinliardt's case) total realistic effect. 10
By another ectiinatc, Miss Anderson might appear to have
been born too late. 'lor ideas of the arti,t's involvement
with hie rnle were those of an earlier jchool - of Helen
Faucit and, in America, of Charlotte GusL^m, the actress who
had adviced her to bef.in at the top. One of the most striking
passages in A Few ...Memories describes Mi as Cu simian's performance
as Meg '"iorrilieo in an adaption of Guy _• ' ! c.iii:.crins; the
actrecc, in order to obtain a thrilling and authentic c'eathscream,
woaid strike her breast, "which was like a co, I of
fire with the diease that was f,,at killing her" (pp.37-' ).
nice A-iderson conceived of cii".rooters in terms of her ov/n
emotional range, and of hor own tec jnical ca-~r all her discussions of the 1 •s'tinuc vith Riotori,
r.;i; ucr coi.'.sultation of Alr.ir.-'radema, she failed to ;•

artistic predilection* to the theatre*
In its review of Th» ffinter'e Tala. Tho stage attempted
an anelysie of the reason* for Miss Anderson*0 failuitu The
reviewer suggestod in the first place ft distinction in uses
of the word "Ideal" ~ it should toe ap lied only to the mental
qualitiea of character^ and should not properly be associated
with beauty of physical appearance* The distinction may be
elementary, but the word was r=o fre*ly acted that some attempt
at a definition was a jtep in the right direction* The critic
then proceeded to the declaration that Miss md reon*o art traa
"wholly objective" in tliat it dealt with "the real rather than
the ideal", fhe new term, "objectlife", ia a little confusing,
but it does not obotract the immediate argument of the articlei
Slice /Uideroon o \tiefiee the eye rather than the m nd* she
censidare her ;*rt to impert aoiritaul truth by cculptoreoque
poses, but she would attain that end more effectively by
enacting the humanity of Hermione end Perdita, the one co
"Goullees" and the othdr o "modern" in her interpretations*
Tiaia critic*o 0truggle to account in theorotiool term©
for the actreoo'a failure to oatisfy moot of the roviev/oro
is cyapton-otic of general failing in drc tic criticiEra of
t" i r e.i;iitiea» Convinced of the need to apply a r.ount! theory
of tn.nctic art in the discussion of a niraber of controversial
nro< actions, the critics fourul theraaelves at c loss* lev; of
then - Archer beins the most notable - wore ble to analyoc
theatric '.1 events in tormo of r rational r.ir -.r- c*icr,l concept
of what onould and ; houlO act happen in theatres, or vtfiich
plays were /rood and. v»hich bod. The contcnnorrry • rtiotic world
offered n challenge to oat blic^i«»d idooa of purpose an method
in pointing, but ev«ai in the crti,,tic jaumr:lo c.nd -^/-iozinea
of art there was a confu ton of tcr, iinolo-y. Procuotiono of
Shake?7>erre which cppe-led to raohionablc tactes might also
be judged in the currently i'.ohiarable terms of t;rt-..-riticioo t
but the nf1 .. rejection of narrative and ui^actie terno values
in .->ic to rial art conflicted v?ith -lio taoatric, I co ibin ,tion
of .rhi.l:v.opor-ro and painting;*
Ae though to c-d: to thie coiifuoioa, Dry .\nclerson*c
lainly i oa n^ecl judgement by ; one cort of pictorial ^.'

290
she dicrecpccted the narrativo construction of pi; yc, subordinated
other characters and themes to those ben.ring directly
upon the central character, and set up in competition with a
management which had been rcce-ted into the fashionable and
artistic world. Yet there was plainly something lacking in
Miss Andersen's technique - she appeared wonting in a quality
for which the now appr ach to ert had no explanatory term.
In diocuG. ing Irving's acting or that of Barrett there was
by now no questioning the performer's Lability to hold the
attention of the audience, however erroneous or untrue to
"Art" t;heir means of uoin;; so. Like the As You Like It produced
by Hare and Kendal, Jii^o Andersen's Shakeepearean ventures
Cicrropointed reviewers and r.t the same time apperleC to r n
element in contemporary tr.Dtc. It remained uncertain v/hether
thic, was a concequence of the inadequacy of tlic performers
and manaf aments, or a factor of tha artistic sensibility of
the

291
Chaoto Seven :
Th£ 1888-9 Sti

292
Irving»s Macbeth. which nn from December 2v,16£6 until tne
end of the folio ing June, dominated the U6t-9 seeson. Despite
the reserv; tions of a number of critics concerning the
interpretation of the letaint, p* rts the effectiveness of the
stagin^ was indisputable, T. e Graphic proudly clainea it as
a triumph of nation: 1 art:
In scenic art, England may no be ftiily said to
stand pre-eminent. i*ith the exception of the
Meiningers, v.ho no'.-.*" Fno then, when at home, are
worthy rivals, there is nothing to be sc.,u on
Continent 1 stc",_es v.hich will compare i >r mise
en sce'ne ..ith the Lyceum production of, s,./, ^OC_L.
Ado about.Nothing, or Lord Tennyson's _,octic. 1 pi y
of The Cup* The I'.PC be tL does not e;;cei, tivju^h it
equals these productions; but it mey confi ontly
be sale thft i no previ ms production under
Mr IrvinL 's roi0n has scenic rrt, in its hi/_,r;03t
f or ., beeri so faithfully subdued to the purpose
of illustr ting r poetical pl-.y.
(^ Jtnuiry lic> )
Since Mary Anderson*G The inter'^ Trie thero had not oo-n
any serious challenge to the rscondfucy uhich i^'Cbetit reeifirir^a,
but t.vo comt >« nies had tt n te a full-scalo ^roductions
oi Shakespearoan pl^ys ouring Itfcc, t.nu e. Iu.. d; y^
after the first ^i^ht of /.ecbotj: the uei« n; Uc or oi the
iiayraarkot, Herbert -.eorbohrr Tree, began a crrcer oi JhcK-spG-i/rec-n
producti.).. tlu t soon rivrlled ana evu.iturlly s^ tjersedec
tlu t oi Irving. Durin,., the months tl.rt followed, kichc-rc,
Kansfielc e:>er ed s^ y^t another CDiitundo:- for tho Lyceum's
supremacy.
i. Au^ustin Ur 7-y's Company A:K. Tho Tarsia., ol the ohre «
Tic first visit >r Italy's c.^np«ny to London, in U«.4, Lad
beon a coasicerab'ie success - the ra-HC^QT .as . r- isetl lor
t!:e v^jZ^ulv of his f.ctJrc ;mo ^.c:a i.cheii t:.c leic.ii ic. lecy,
n^ao a ^.ood i :pres.iion on tho critics. A revie er in ^^
August lii-4) coin ,e.-to* :
The coc j,->- tiy...has yho-./n, in its f-ctia.,,, :n amount
of o.-somblo • ith v,hich sorie of us i^ ve .ot bulorv;
beon ci.'jposoo to credit tv.a A e.,icrn tr op. Its
cl fc.rcus, !"is Kehfi., is doubtlos.. moie

293
magnificent thon sensitive; but it numbers among
its members surely one really able come aim ami
several persons i;ho at least ere not anacquainted
with the grammar of their art.
Subsequent visits made Daly's company as familiar to London
aa the French troupes which appeared annually at the Royalty
or the Gaiety after the winter season 1 . The staple of Daly's
repertoire was farcical comedy, for the most part adapted by
the manager from German sources: from Julius Rosen's Halbe
Dichter was created ^ancy and Company, given at the 3trend
Theatre in May 1886, arid from Goldfische by bchoenthan and
Kadelberg, ceme The Railroad of Love» first seen in London et
the oaiety in p ay 1688. Most of Daly • s plays, including
POliars and Cents (sometimes celled Dollars rnd sense). The
Countess uucki. and y_2c ^or^ Casting the! Moftc^ran^ were of
such parentage, the other chief, component of his programmes
,;as "old comedy" - adapted from eighteenth-century authors
or Shakespeare*
It is for his Shakespearean adaptations, and, speciiicslly,
for Sha ;»s attacks on them, that Dely is best remembered. A
representative passage is the beginning of the notice oi As
You Like It hich appeared in The Saturday Reviev. on 9 October
1897*
I never se^ Mis - Ada Rehyn tct ithout burning
to present Kr Au^,ustin Daly v:ith s aeli uhtful
Villa in St. Helena, en. & comraisuion from an
influential committee of his admirers to produce
at r.is lesure a complete set oi iihckespoir's
plays, entirely re-Written, reformed, reerran^ed, £nc
brought up to the most acvrnced requirements oi
the year 1850. 2
Shav goes on to particularize Dily'^ offences as & procucer:
...I se.v Amiens under the Ljre ,n ood tree, br^vint,
winter and rou^h ,-eather in a o: ir oi crimson
and pjush breeches, a specttcla to benumb the ndnc
and obscure the passions. There v. a Qrlanao -. ith
the har ony of his bro. n boots £na tumic tom auunccr
by piercing discord oi cu rk vole nic ^reen, r
v/aIking tribute to Mr Dely's t^oto in tights, ihere
did I he-r slo*^ music stealing up ct the vxell-kno. n
recitetions of Adera, Jaques rad Kodelincc, lest ve
should for a no me at forget th&t v.e w^.re in a tr.ef.tre
ana not in the iorest of Arden. liiero did I look
through practicable doors in the vails 01 su,iny

294
orchards into an abys of pitch darkness. There
saw I in the attitudes, grace, and deportment of the
forest dwellers the plt Ful^ frtirjn fiv. t;,y
brother lies, in the course of his converse ti >n v;ith Viol, "'\
It seemed n-rt 01 Daly»s ti:-.-e.tricel theory the t ? n^ son,.,

295
written by Shakespeare wrs appropriate to any play written
by him*
Among the other chief tenets of the manager's feith was
the belief that a play should be split upinto a number of
tableaux, to show off a series of imposing sta^e settings.
Mervin Felheira points out thet, in the case of The Merchant
of Venice (I£v9)» the result was "a curiously static quality"
an impressive st; teliness in which Portia reigned
as a rare and exotic, but hardly i urn, n, figure. 5
This suited not only the lavish and heavy sets, but the
talents of Ada Rehan* Shaw aotmired the actress *s powefc and
charm, and his criticism of Daly»s productions amounts to a
lament that so crude an employment shoulc keep Miss Rehan
from higher1 things - the same contention emerges from his
criticism of Irving*s productions, by which *,llen Terry
was prevented from aiding the cause of the net. drtma. The
magic of the Lyceum had little effect on ohc .:
I escaped the illusion solely because I
was a dramatist, and wanted Ellen Terry
for my o..n plays.^
For others the magic of Daly f s theatre, no less than that of
Irving, wj.s unimpeded by such considerations. illiam Winter,
whose acrairation of Adr. Rehc.n kne, no bounds, folio, ea a
glov.in^ description oi Rosalind vith the claim that to
impersonate such a character, rn actress must be possessed f
the same fascination:
»»»s iritually pure, intellectually brilliant,
physicelly h&ndsome, lithe, i n ent anc tenderthi
inccruation of glo in^, he; 1th, bev/itching
sensibility, passionate tempera,.ent, and captiv;tin
CJ personal chrrn...
The inference folio s thtt Hiss Rohan is t-ll these things, ana
it leacs .inter to the assertion th.t his inability tJ distinguish
bet..een the verse and prose of the part,as plcycd
by Miss Rehan, was a glorious achievement of her Oenius:
,».t:ey 1; psed into one uniform current of melody,
so that no*listener remembered that the text is
composite*i.»
Clement Scott - who was, after all, bein0 paid far services
to her manager - ..rote to Ada Rehan in 18VO oxpressint, his

296
delight in her Ros«- lind:
There is no success like thnt of a .•.omr.n c-oloveu
by good
Later, c€i resting her as "Deer enc gifted /rtist", he v;r ;te :
We only see m Ade Reh^n once in ; lifetime and
the fresh pure, ,^re, oi you h; s been v^ry ref rushing
and s eet to me* A year's pi ygoing novfcit-yo is a
v/earincs., but I c; n pick up* court-, e hen our opinions
are strengthened by such an t i-t as yjurs*.
Scott did not fine Daly's plrys or ^reductions un orthy oi this
artist, but even those \;ho expressed a.mbt& concerning sono of
the material v.hith v.hich she was provided felt the ep o 1 of
her playing* Dithmar, reviewing The uoldon idow at Italy's
theatre in Ke v York, offered such an opinion:
one ,/ore her rich robes like a queen and enbocieo
perfectly the ioeal >f a women oi esu Itcd station
endowed ..ith youth, beauty, wit, anc imperial ill
ana bourn. lose ..orlcly possessions* The t the personage
her loV conpellec her to portrey i.£ s really a viin,
silly, vapid ere; lure has nothint , to to ith the Cr-se,
(iiO .. Jfprk, Times f 3 October 1L

297
in a supposedly riliz&bethan manner, had clone little t-> enhance
its standing - the reviewer of The Morning Post ma. callec the
origin. 1 &. "lon^, .e; r somo ana yet unfinished cor.ocy oi five
acts, . ith its preli iuary induction -ithout a conclusion"
and profest;eu his preference for Garricl »s " jlensc-nt abrldL--
nent" (Ib Lt.rch 1^44) 1 ' . Daly»s i as the first Lonuon ; >roouction
since Phelps to ^ive the Induction end r tort n t»ro ching
til,- 1 of ihrkespeare
12
.
The pattern i\>llo..eu by tho r_;ce ,ti >n of ije.ly*s sub~
sequent Shr-kes;>eere&n efforts WPS set in 1868: Miss Reh.- n ; nc
company .ere inoresslvc , ^nd the sfea^int, v.ao, ocs >ite its
imperfcctiono, a vorthy attain. t to co justice to the le^iwinu-t
cr? m: Ivor's
prntoraime" (23 June l£&#) and Uuoll, ..hose rc0 ru .: ;>r ^al
v.'ea surpastsec only ^j his v. ne: 1 ;. ti jn of Irvia ,, roc, Hoc t
"s.-joro olc. ra^" coveri.it, tho iljo. ji ...a /tist; 's r,om, c.ac
the "set of raasoiv.., heavily curved furnitur. , s: io to a; v^
buon brought fr^m -n old Italian .Jtlrc-". This iurn^t.rc,
outst- ntiin,.ly hic-oous in cooi^n, is visible in one oi the
photo; rr )hs 01 thio production • iiich ucoll re -ro^u :os. Tho
SGC^nc of his il1uotr:tio:v; sho ,s th-j b, n uet scone, on^ 01
the iinest 'jcoll hr.d .JVCT so^n eao entirely ju;;ti: yiri.. "t. e

298
managerial bx-st that it sukt>cstcc f ^'Gft -dcture by rrul
Veronese": in a setting, vhich looks intolerably cluttered,
:;ith as b? ckt,round a 1; ncecr pe evidently ^inspired ;,y Clauae
Lorraine, o boys' ciuir sings "Should he u^br, iu n - on the
spectator's left a li m, escai-ec from Trnfrlt.fr Square, calmly
'..atches the oroc.-eain^ . iti its paws crossed (see Illustr ti^n
14). The phototrap: s su gest a tot;1 Isack of trste, but in
ucell's opinion "L'aly never die anything to eout 1 this su .ro; e
achievement \ A sirailor enthusiasm prompted Vhe Illustr.td.
London ho- p to in u lified ap rov; 1 of scenery "as artistic
illy bee utif ul as fny : .ocern London runner could cevise".
£,ven willi;:n. Archer, in The, orlc. considered the b, a ;.uot
scon^ ."one of the r:;ost beautiful pictures ever .>ut on t..e st; c e n
me r nk«d the perform; nee "li±^i r..';i:>n£ the few re; lly Si/tiof^in^
Dlu kes,je r-.^an ^rocuctiono thrt hrve occurrea in ray lii. -
ti e" (l f. , 2 June; _, 6 June j« Amon^ the ie surviving
_)iiO -. ').,_,r-1 ^ ic records Ji theatrical jerforrat;nces bcfor^ the
eit,iituon-..iiiCties, those of i-rly's Tho T^a^jni^ of thv ^tuv.- do
least to e.cc unt f-r the rdnirption er: ,ressoa for setting MIC
costu. ing - jorh.-.ps the flatjli,.ht of the i'lcS^-ler. > ^no tiiu
irck of colour nu-kes ti cao sc^aos so un-^ttr ctiv .
The rttr; cti m of the ji'OOucti ";a, sur^a^.sin^ the t oi its
3Cv;n^ry t.nc. nr-na£,oT:.ent, vac t e .jersone.1 r.ct^.notirj.. )i Ac.a
.ciit-n. Archer i:r.o aescr.,bec her JQ lorn

Illust ation 16 Following p.298
Scene from Daly's The Taming
of the Shrew,Gaiety 1888,

299
were in general i^re.ment on Miss hen?n»s acting. Its lesson
for the English theatre Icy in grandeur of conception - thd
notice in The Illustrated LondonH Nev{8. observed:
We have b~en painting miniatures too long, and it
would be well if some of our ectors and actresses
would take up a 1 rgur canvas and c broader brush.
The company returned many times to London, until Daly's death
in 169V, and, although its artistic policy wes in most respects
very conservative, the continuing popularity of its Shakespearean
revivals and contemporary ropertoire kept Ada Rehan before
the public: the troupe combined efficiency and lavish staging
. ith the talents of a forceful actress. At the s^mc time, it
counted for little in the debate concerning st;ge scenery:
Shaw complained thst Daly conceived of Shakespearean or ma
"as the vioct artificial of all forms of stage entort innent"1^,
Not only the new criteria of colour-harmony ;;na consistency of
scene and costume, but those of common-sense appecr from shr-.'.'s
review and the evidence of other witnesses to IK- vo be n ignored
by Daly.
ii. Miss Wallis's As You Like It.
On October >X, 1868 the new dhaft^sbury Theatre, in 6heito_bury
Avenue, opened tith t revival of As You Like It, in which
Rosalind wa.o played by fti^s ^allis, viiie of Lancaster the
lessee of the house, ullen v.allis had rn^ce her ooout at the
Queen's Thertre, Loh^ ^cre, in 1^72 and hrc since been seen as
Cleopatra (Drury L;ne, lt?3) and horni.me (It7c). A representative
notice 01 ^llen ollis f s acting is Dutton Cook's
ace junt oi ht;r oorforn nco in The inter T s Tele:
Possessed of cert&in ualifications for the&trical
success, the lady :-.ecries by iicr redundant artifices
of gesture and attitude, and the ar.r..lin^, oomoousncss
01 her elocution; regard for simplicity and niure
seorio v/holly banished from her method of representatior
in her hands hermione loses all matronly vrece tnd
dignity, rssulng instcac the serabl&nc, of r ti 0htlaced
hysterical scho )l0irl.^^
In 1676, at Drury Lcne, she plrycd In^on, and rs given
better notices than for any of her jrovious parts: in The
Illustrated o jort.iji^__rjndpranatic_ ".ewS. she \,LS ^rciseu for "a

300
degree of refinement and intelligence greater then she lhau\
hitherto exhibited", and The Sunday Times f'ouna her "very
picturesque throughout"(loLrN, 7 December 1878j ST, 8 December
U78). In 1883 s. e repeated the part at a Gaiety matinee
with ci.S.V.illard as lachimo * her performance "though rtther
v.efik and thin in its pathos, wts by no means deficient in
refinement and grace" (loljrK. 31 March 1883). In Ifcfcl tnd
1883, at the Olympic and the Gaiety, she appeared as Hoselino,
and was not ill-received, but for a few years, between 1884
and 1888, hername disappeared from the london theatrical
papers.
The production of As You Like lib in ,.hich Miss Wallis made
her return was unsuccessful: it lasted from 20 October to 17
November, and '..as not greeted ,ith any enthusiasm by the critics.
The ant r * A c te wns blunt in its condemnation - the plry ..c s
"not .well staged and...indifferently acted" and ixosclind v.as
out f Mss «allis f s range, she being "better fitted to play
Lady Macbeth":
Until Saturday, l\r John Hare and the bo net1 Is
ere, cccording to my judgement, to u« cefoited
ith about the worst rendering of As You Like
It that London has .;itnessedfor the" liast ten
yeprs; but I am not certain that the performance
at the Shaftesbury is not even more commonplace.
This is s. ying a good de;l.
i
(27 October 18< 6)
The cast included Ve^in and Forbes kobertson, but their efforts
did littl; to s^ve the production from failure - nor uio umden's
sets rna the costumes designed by H.u.Glinaoni. Archer, v.ho
admired Miss Wallis f s Rosalind} found the st-.^in^ "elabor-te,
yet inartistic snc unoleasing" (Th-j ^orlo, 24 October 1868).
Scott, in The II tustr.- teci Lone'an lie-.s. listed the inace
of the designs:
ae hrvo foresters x;ho look like court-cards,
anci peasants the least pictures uc ever pruso
and castles of modem design, surrounded by the
no -.;e:>t Hampton-Court ribbon-beds; cr.u old ;.c-m
issuing from a modern villa th.-.t mi^ht hrv.. boon
built yesterday at Brixton or Balhm.
(k7 October Ibic)
Of more interest t!,rn the ineffective out expensive procuctl >n

301
was the consequence to be deducted from it:
e .rnt iir t the heert and eoul - the breathing,
spirit of the play* Xn e cert In sense this can b«*
supplied by en intelligent director I the roetic
weakness of the company can be in t ne; sure
concealed by the scene-painter and decorator*
3cott went on to suggest that a Lyceum production, "with Mr.
Xrring to direct", might be a re e ruing venture, end it is
clerr th«t he did not use the ord "director" with it* ; «ore
recent implication of en independent organise . In his paily
Tele/m oh notice, oeott had urged the case in stronger terms ,
claiming that the 'obvious fault* of the revival **• its lack
of an "imaginative raind to direct It", end that Shakespear*
could not succeed "unless the selected plays ere directed
by those ith strong artistic instinct" • Charles Kean end
Irving possessed this instinct, but Chatterton, vhose or.rury Lane in the eighteen*seventies had produced
little of any vorth, lacked it (2*. October).
Again, Irving v;as left alone .n the fields Daly fs success,
that of s visiting manager, b rcily counted, and the one attempt
at a fully-produced commercial Shakespeare tn revival , had
failed to reach the standard of the Lyceum, In his sunmery
of the ye r*s theatrical events, Nisbet referred principally
to the new Macoeth v-.hen he v/rote:
The distinguishing feature of i&n^lish cirama c >ntinues
to be its mounting, ;;hic!: for splendour, Irvi^iiness,
and studied erchaeolo^ic? 1 correctness undoubtedly
surpasses tho nost anbitious ei forts ol Continental
and Ane: ic; ;i
But it w-.s sad6eni% that the increased cr i,ro . iti. which
•.,ero protected as^Ubst fire, and the ^rt'Ciu; 1 uiuc&rdint of
gas for staga li^tin^, v;ere the subjects dondm.tis.b the new
year. Qnee raore it appeeroc that technicrl ecvrnce to outstripping
&njt incr® so in the uelity of th«
v/ritten or the actors saer^ing from the '

302
iii. Beerbohm Tree and The Merry uives of Windsor. 1689.
Herbert Beerbohm Tree was born in 1653, and made his first
professional appearance on sta^e in 1878: his first management
was thfct of the Comely Theatre, in Panton Street, where
he opened with W.Outram Tristram*s romantic drama The Red Lamp
on April 20,1887. This transferred to the Haymarket in June,
when Tree took over the lease of the larger theatre, and in
1892 the company moved to the newly-built Her Majesty's Theatre
across the way.
By the late eighteen-eighties Tree's style of acting had
acquired its distinctive qualities t which Walbrook, reviewing
his uolsey in 1910, called "that partiality for original and
often rather finicking ana trivial f business 1 " - v.olsoy was an
exceptionally restrained performance, but his Malvolio and
Richard II were distinguished by an overabundance of detail, .•/
so that Shaw was able to write that "the only unforgettable
passages in his Shakespeare acting"werv those "of which Tree
%Q
and not Shakespeare was the author" • The creditable aspect
of this e$!berance can be se^n in a notice, published in The
Illustrated London News, of his performance as Heinrich
Borgfeldt in Partners by Robert Buchanan at the Haymarket in
January 1868. The reviewer v- s especially impressed by one
aspect of Tree's impersonation of a German-born company director:
It v:ts neither his make-up, ..hich .as careful and
charactc istic, nor his accent, v.hich , as notably
and consistently teutonic, nor his adopted mamerisras,
v.hich gave eviaence of some time spent in observing
the ways of Borgfeldt's countrymen, But it w; s the
manner in which, in a situation fairly strong, but by
no means exceptionally so, and v.ith lines allotted
to him of by no means raarMed force or pathos, he yet
managed to concentrate the entire attention of the
audience upon feimself, to reveal to them as plainly as
if he had recitea aloud whole pages, the inner
..orkings of the mind of the unfortunate senior partner,
to enable them to trace clearly for themselves every
detail of the mental struggle waging . ithin him, and to
keep them in hushed suspense and expectation till the
fall of the curtain vdthout a touch of rant or exaggerated
action* This waa fine acting*
(21 January 188t)
The faculty for silent and arresting acting &s similar to
Irving's, and, in a similar manner, it provoked accusations of

303
egotism; if True coula engrge the audience's attention so
easily, might he not up-stage other characters unscrupulously?
There was evidently a danger that he rni^ht seek plays that gi ve
him e strong aid dor.inatin/. role, and that he sight adapt
existing scripts to the same pattern. Some critics felt that
this had alre dy come to pass - the Illttstreted London JLews
review of Partners accused him of the fault:
whatever character he has to personate, it must be
torced, whatever dialogue he has to speak must
be lengthened: in v.liatev^r scenes he is engaged
they must be dredged out until they become veaoisome.
(14 January IBBB)
Scott, the author of this review, went on to contrast Tree with
Irving, whose Di^by Grant he alleged to be e, 4.000 example of
virtuously restrained character-acting: a similar notice appeared
in The Graphic (14 January).
Tree's taste for elaborate detail in acting had its corollary
in his scenic arrangements. A few weeks iter he staged
The Pompadour, a version by W.G.Wills and Sidney Grundy of
Marcisse by Erail Brachvogel. The scenery for this plgr v.as
cumbersome and complicated, and it wss divided into a series of
scenes , hich vur^ so difiicult to set and strike that ;.ll the
necesGory action had to take place in the sotting of the act,
however incongruous the circtiunstances might become: every
character had to be provided \vith an excuse for visiting the
room or gallery in question. The Illustrated Sporting and
Dramatic Mews, although sy prthetic to Tree's management, found
t.'.e resulting awkwardness of the play disturbing:
It is the price v:e pay for ponderous and pretentious
scenes th;t, x/hother they represent a
palace or a hovel, everything th.vt aous cune to
oesij must either come to pas ,hile tho ..-cone is
ii'ere, or be left out of the play altogether-
(21 April iag8)
The notice in The Illustrated Lonoo.n IJQV s connected the scenic
artifice . ith tfie technic. 1 brilliance of Tree's acting, ,;hich
5cott pronounced "as clever as acting can possibly b~ that
leans wholly on the support oi art":
Mr Beerbohm Troe has aluays convinced us that he is
a remarkably intelligent, observrnt and stucious

304
actor; never yet that Nature had endowed him with the
magnetic force of a great actor*
(7 April 1666)
Scott was dismissing Tree on the grounds which Irving's critics
had based their attacks on the Lyceum manager • the more
perceptive critics acknowledged Tree's prowess, but pointed
out that he was dealing with a poor play and that the part of
Narcisse, the deranged violinist, was not suited to his robust
talents* It was also suggested that, having peopled their
drama with the celebrities of the Enlightenment - including
Grimm and Voltaire * the authors had found themselves incapable
of giving these choice intellects anything good enough to say*
But the play was a worthy attempt, and its staging was * taken in
itself - excellent*
The manager moved in the high artistic worlM - Lady Tree,
who married him in 1662, remembered "beautiful dream-like parties
in the great studios of Tadema, Leighton, Millais, Watts,
Poynter, Burne-Jones and Alf&ed Gilbert" where "in grand and
mystic setting, one listened to the divine discourse of music,
one nestled in the vory heart of culture and learning and
society"
2O
• Max Beerbohm, the actor's half-brother, remembered
a "great day" spent with him in March 1662: The lunched at the
actor's club:
fcas it the "Arundel" perhaps? The "Savage"?
I know not* I cared not. It was Herbert's
club, and 1 lunched in it, and was presented
to the great Mr Godwin in it. At first 1
thought he must be a "conspirator", for he
wore a large black cloak and a large soft
black hat. But he had the !-ost charming
manners, and treated me as an equal, and 1 quite
agreed with the opinion, so often expressed by
Herbert in those days, that Godwin was a Master. 2^
In 1901, when he was already the effective successor to Irvin^
as e London manager, Tree recalled the 1674 Merchant of Venice.
produced by Bancroft with Godwin's assistance:
.. .1 do not remember since to have seen any
Shakespeare an presentation more satisfying
to my Judgement.*,It was the first production
in which the modern spirit of stage-managemlmt
asserted itself, tr nsporting us as it ciid into
the atmosphere of Venice, into the rarified
realms of Shfckespearean comedy. 22

205
Tree also admired Wagner, whose "dramatic genius" had made
"the nearest approach to Shakespeare": in this he was at one
with Shaw, who claimed in 1889 that "the actual *agner theatre"
at Bayreuth was also "the ideal Shakespeare Theatre" 2^« The
gist of Shaw's notices of the productions by Tree is that the
actor's exuberant imagination needs the control of a good
director - Shaw § for example - but there is no quarrel with
the theoretical foundation of the acting or staging. Tree
gave the question of illusion in the theatre careful thought, as
his published writings testify, and in 1885 - two years before
he became a manager - he contributed to The Dramatic Review
an essay arguing against the moral indepencence of Restoration
drama, and ihe suggestion that Joseph Surface should be played in
a sympathetic manner ("Shakespeare and Macaulay vs.Lamb", 18
April 1885)* R.< . Lowe replied in the next issue, citing a
number of undeniably sympathetic anti-heroes, including Tony
Lumpkin: the actor's point was old-fashioned, but it was considered
and well-argued*
The new production of The Merry Wives of Windsor was
first presented at the Crystel Palace Theatre on 13 September
1888, at a benefit performance for Edward Hastings, but it
appeared on the Haymarket bill on 2 January 1889. At first
the comedy was played rt matinees, vdth Captain Swift in the
evenings - on 9 February it v;ts transferred to the evening
bill, where it remained until 20 July, the end of the seeson.
The least notable revival of the play had been one of
Samuel r-helps's farevell performances at the Gaiety in 1£?8,
and the last elaborate staging that by Phelps at Sadler's ..ells
in 1856 - in 1851 Charles Kean had put it on at the Princess's
Theatre. Tree's venture was weloomed. The £ra remarked that
it had been put upon the stage "with a degree of refined taste
ano scrupulous solicitude for detail that has in all probability
never been accorded to It before?!, and praised the "fine, solid
'set 1 of Page's House" 'ith its porch ana half-timbered wall in
the foreground and Windsor castle "towering at the back". In
the last act there was "a lovely effect of moonlit boughs and

306
rushing water" in the forest where BSme Kati banner's troupe
of child dancers disported themselves. The scenery was "an
honour to the Haymarket Management" (fhe Era.5 January 1889).
In the second of its notices The Saturday Review applauded the
manager*a lack of pretension:
The charm of this production is that, although
brought out without any flourish of trumpets, or
even a precursory pamphlet, it is as artistically
mounted, and as elaborately stage-managed, as though
it had been arranged for a lengthened run. It will
interest and surprise many to see how admirably
a company, with only two or three extraneous
additions, which has hitherto been associated with
modern drama, quietly adapts itself to the requirements
of a rollicking Elisiabethan comedy,
(19 January 1889)
In Truth it was observed that, despite the Hayraarket's advertising
policy, the performance was notable for its ensemble rather
than any star":
not any very special individual merit, but a
harmony of interpretation, an even-ness of tone,
a spirit of co-operation that are in themselves
extremely creditable*
(10 January 1889)
The Times enjoyed Sullivan's score and found the revival "one
of the most picturesque of its kind'1 (3 January) and the only
reservation expressed with regard to the mise-en-»scene in ^The
Illustrateu Sporting ancl Dramatic News was the suspicion that
the "final scene was "a little pantominiey" and that aome
costunes iair;ht be improved (26 January).
This general applauce for the staging was qualified by
some criticism of the manager's o;vn retina: it was a triumph
of sorts, but the padding and elaborate facial make-up to which
Tree resorted were an evident strain on his ener ieo. He was
obliged to isr-urae a "fat" voice, without bein^ able to relax
his voc .1 c iDrds at the annropricte moments, jiving his lines
an obtrunive tension. The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic
News suggested that this tension :.VPS the cause of his speaking
"in one tone of cumbrous gruffneso which puts all the rest into
the background" - "A performance by effort ic. not master of
itself in the incidentals of detail". In The Academy Wedmore
complained that Falstaff's "golden temper" was missing:

307
...he is suave rather than genial, agreeable
rather than sunny* Ane, the sunshine of the
character being, to some extent missed, it is
inevitable that a greater emphasis should
seem to be placed on all that is coarse and
gross .
(2 February 1669)
£ra . like The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic Hews, felt
a lack of "unction" in the performance - that quality so
difficult to find, it would seem, in late nineteenth-century
comic actors.
In contrast to this group of critics was the opinion of
The Times, which found Tree "full of rotund geniality and
humorous suggestion 11 and claimed that he looked, walked and
talked "as though born to the heritage of corpulency 1** Truth,
in a similar assessment, praised his "jovial selfishness and
inoffensive sensuality"* It seems that, as the run continued,
the actor's ability to play Salstaff increased* In a notice
published on 15 February Th- Stage noted that Tree's "oily
chuckle" gave "a better insight into the character of the
'greasy 1 knight than wes before noticeable", and Archer, who
in his first notice (9 January) had complained that Falstaff
took his knaveries end mischances "too seriously", stated in
The World of 13 February:
Mr Tree's Falstaff seems to ripen and mellow with
each performance. He now plays with less effort
and far more apparent enjoyment than formerly. It
may still be objected, pefthaps, that his sensuality
is gloating rather than roguish, that his eyes roll
instead of twinkling,
In later years the performance beca e more and more elabor&te -
the prompt copies of the three-act version used from 1902
onward© are filled ith picturesque details, extending in
range from interpolated exclamations and farcic.-.l tumbling
to & touching final curtain, in which Falstafi wr,s left elohe,
dancing with F sm,- 11 child in a shaft of light 24 . Falstaff
acquired thct depth and geniality which on first appearance
he had If eked - in .L.Courtney's contribution to the memorial
volume which Max Beerbohm edited, he appears as "an all-fatness,
oozing out drink and a maudlin sentimentality at every pore",
a pe.formance both "ripe" and "unctuous" arid "quite ir esist-

308
ibleS. Lady Tree wrote th,-1 he danced "• ith the peculiar
gr: ce and buoyancy" of fat men, "like a bobbing cork on the
\ tter, as distinguished fron a
Tree did not return to the pley, after its initial run,
until the se; son of 1>01 « it subsequently reraa; ned in repertoire
until 1912. In the meantime he produced Hamlet (1692),
the first parx, of Henry IV (1696), Garrick's version of The
Tanftna of the uhrew (1897), Julius Caeser (1898), Kina John
(1899) and A Midsummer Night's Drepm (1900): The Tempest.
Henry VI^l . Tv.-olfth iat.ht. Kuch Ado about Nothing and Richard l
followed in the new century. Although King John wes produced
tt the Crystal ralnce in September 1889, Hamlet was Tree's
first fully-stereo revival of a S hakes pe; re an plcy after the
Merry vives, and, although ingenious, it appearec to su/., cct a
lack oi maturity - in The Illustrated a porting and Dr ^tic
flews Tree was sei; to ; ant "that spontaneity of physic 1 resource
;,hicL marks the difference between po..er and nervjus
violence" (6 February 1892). The tragic pert of the character
wes acted "more or less et e. tension". Tre^ v;rs as yet given
only the qualified praise and encouragement accorded to a
conscientious and talented uo c,in;Lor - his experiments v;ith the
New i/rM?.E, notably the first production in London of An Enemy
of the People (1893), enjoyed a guarded reception. The revival
of The Merry .

iv, Mansfield's ttichcirc! III.
iiichard Mansfield was born in Berlin, of British --.rents, in
1854: thv'.s he was Tree's junior by one ye, r, and Irvin »s by
sixte n. His career began in !•' 76 v/h.-n he joined BIT. and rrs
'enn. n Reed, but hie fir,;t success wao rs oir Joseph ^ >rter,
K.C..3., in II . •. i . ,.> , I-'iu foro. :,t n."..f i old w< s too temnerwneat:-! and
inventive to work hazily for ilbert, and -i'tcr a quarrel, he
loft t.ie company - he had O'evi; -ted from the putior'c prom^tcopy
in his performances as the Major-Saneral in The ./'i.r- toe
" of ~~~"1 Penzance, ""^•••— and — ,- later clr.i led to '.:; VG "written" t^- r n\r,±c of
the oat»cr-r. oag . He joined the cof ; r:y which was p
a version of Offenbrch'c V: '"o..il-'rr orG y wit:i a bo k by ;i.B.
Parnie, at the Globe in A »ril 1881, and in 1882 ao emi T' t 1
to Amerie .
In 18b8 Mansfield rctux-neu to ;)0ru on, h-:vin^ LI; -de n cor-^it -
orrble rcrvut '.tion in Worth A: 'oricn -,ith an rtc'a^t.-'.tion of _r
Jokyll ana .'r ilyde» Ue leased the Lyceum Thco re, opening on
2 August v;ith a version of Stevenson* g atory v/hich I^id be n
made for him by T.Rucsell Sulliviin and which the novo?_ict had
authorized. The lerforrannce was a success, and ?*rji'jfi Id'c
quick changes, in full v ew of the audience, from Johyll to
Hyde v;orr . ccli'iricd ao a tour de force. The Civntious Critic
(I.-j. r.IJ., 18 Aul.7iot 1088) v/v/.s not uiid,ly ir.nrecsod with t.ic
ar>ne;irance of Fyde, "a forocious little ci-c-aturc, v/ita tio
a -m-jitii'^ of :.;uiln

310
original. Daniel BancJmai.n had attempted to sttge his ov/n
version of the story ct the Opera Comique, and in the ensuing
court-cose aefeneoc himself on ti,e pounds oi hia n:t using
any of Stevenson's ov.n words. Longm* n»s, Stevenson's publishers,
vo\4ci recognize only the version used by Mansfield (Sunday
Times, 12 August 1886). Mansfield wr,te to the Me;. York Times
theatre critic, Dithmar, that Bandmann fcad been obliged to
fly the country - meanwhile he himself had been elected an
honorary member of the Garrick Clug, sponsored by Tree, Let is
^.ingfield and J.I.Toole, andi hf-.ct been taking the measure of
Irving f s organization:
The Lyceum (cntre nous) is not a bed of roses.
The extraV£&ance of the management has been
awful l A hundred st &e hands felling over one
another & leakage in every department. It w

311
and The ochool for oc.-.nuel. whilst Mansfielu prepared hiti
"heavy guns". On January 26 he ..rote to Dithiaar :
Richard 111 is to be an interesting production
at least. If archaeology is the rage - then
erci.aeolo^y they shall h&ve - ana ..heroes i,r Irving
is said to be correct (but is reelly only effective)
I shall strive to be both. For the first time
the actual armour - the actual "Fecht.veise" of the
period of Richard v.ill be reproduced irom the most
caruful tracings in the British i us^um and under
the supervision of r-gerton Castle (the greatest
authority here) & all the costumes k scenes
under the direction of Seymour Lucas A.K. .,0
In addition to these appeals to the t; ste for archaeology
Mansfielo intended to offer tn unconventional interpretation'
of the main chare cter:
Ky ideas of Richard III are different I think
in m ny respects to the acceptec & usual cnc
may perhaps on that account be interesting -
at all events Richard ..ill himself speck for
the Visions - i.e., y,u ill see his dre:ra -
faintly - shadowy - but you vill not hesr it
but in broken dreamy tc e^oni-cc accent,- irora
uichard, - in f • ct as men under the influence
of "ni^ht-mare." spe^k. I shall enceavour to
mi^ke Richara a cru-n who mit perchance be rej sonably
supposed to ^ iu a \.omt n under such circumstances
as those unaer .hich he wins Lacy /.nne
- and ts I find "ch> t he "»;:s i.;orcini tely fond
of dress - I shyll cress hin finely, r'lease God
I may be successful.
In this interpret tion archaeolo t.ic 1 ex^.ctituc.^ ..;.s to L>U
taken to its ultimate ae^ree - not only the setting but the
cr.ar: ctori^ation v.-t-s informac by historical research. The
proceeding v;es not entirely souna, for, es archer pointec
out, ^To insist upon historic; 1 co tails is ;iot to make sh; kospeare
f u nich; r real, but rather to r^ir.ind Uo 01 i.i., unrer.lity"
even Irvin0 had not triec to adept frocboth's theatric 1
chare. cter to the "rather virtuous ar.ci enlightened sovereign"
reve lea y history ( f.ihe orU ,

312
i ct Two 1 ay 1471 l.The Roaci to Jhertsey
- T «elve Years have elapsed, tho dt-te of events
beint A.D.1483 -
2.A Ho ,m in Beynard Castle
Act Three A.i>.1463 l.The Hvll in Cros^y falace
2.The or me
Act Four ^art One - A.D. 1483
1.within the To. er
2.The Presence Chaucer (r.orr.ing)
3.The i-reseace Chamber (evening )
Part Two - A.fc. 1485
1.The Sanctuary
Act Five A.D.1485 l.The Camp on uos..cuta xield
2.The Country near Taim-orth
3.A Glade
4.The Battle Field
The clumsi..es&, of ti.ii civision is apparent: the only important
lapses of time cone in the midt le of Acts T o c.nc iour, and,
as Archer noticed, it takes t e Prince of teles t. elve ye; r_> to
Oet from Ludlo/; to London (1471-1483). In order to ^reseat the
historical events nore cle rly, I nsfielc had included the
Prologue from Jibber's version and e, scene (1.2 in ta- 1669
version) sho 1, ing the murder of King Henry - in other instances
he had follov.eo Shakespeare or Gibber as he s-iw fit, so th?t
the resulting text v;as a .)ftch-. ork. The revie. ers spent i-
good de 1 of effort Identifying the Cibberian tnc ohrkesjecreon
lines, c^nd oonoering the .Iscom of the readings, but it seance
by and large a \»orkrru nlike job - n c good tnu tttr ctive version",
co ::::entec T|ie Sta^e, ronincin^ readers the t ithout some ccoition;
1 explan tory scenes the pl^y v/?s not easily comorehensiblo
(22 Mi-rch).
The olay began with the Prologue, in v hich henry "1 lecrna
of his son's fete, and is c or/fitted to the Vo.er. iicn the
'.-•arrant a. rivas, Henry cccojts his imprisonment in lines
borrowed from Richard II :
Gooc. ni, ht to all then: I obey it.
( L i '.; ute nant r o u i re o )
Ana now, ±ioa friend, supoose me on my uoftii
Ana take of no thy last, short livin;, le- ve.
Ney, keep thy teM-, till t ; ou hast s-en me ceau;
i ,nci v;hen in t-oious winter ai_hts, ith

313
Old folks thou si t'st up late
To hear »em tell the dismal t les
Of times long past, ev»n now v;ith voe remerabei 'G,
Before thou bidd'st good night, to quit t. eir grief,
Tell thou the 1; menteble f < 11 of me,
And send thy bearers weeping to their beds.
Uxeunt King Henry, Lieutenant, and Trest;elK 2
George Becks, in the annotated copy of i ensilelM f s ccting
edition now in New York Public Library, eddea the direction
"bovine to Gloster who enters RbJ" and notec th; t in New York
most of the Gibber prologue ves omitted. Mansfield wavered over
the use of this appencUgo: on the first nio,ht he gave the
whole of it, but later in t e run he removed it. In a second
notice illi in /.rcher observed that noat of the Cibberisn
alterations had been discarded, including the o ening scene:
The curtfin no,, rises on Queen lilir.abetii
fcojdvilie's triumphant entry into the
'io.;er, which is immediately folio ea by
"No. is the vinter 01 our discontent",
restored to something like its jristine
proportions.
(The \ orld. 15 J:ay 1889)
The Becks yrompt-C'jpy sho,,o a selective cuttin,_, of the prologue
ana, curiously, the omission of the spoufch "Now is the
winter..." on the first ni^ht. Plainly Il-nufield could not
ojcioe ho to achieve tho correct balance of legitimacy ;.nc
clarity.
The first scene of the firot f.ct use^ the Si.me ;5ot cb t;..c
f'rolo^ue - druce o::dth f s uxtorior of the Tov.e. , prols^a by The
otc,,^ for its "ap_;c.reat soiicity jnt... .artistic colouring".
The secono scene, derived iron a ni;'ture of Gibber anc- the
ti ire oc-rt of Henry VI, suo, ec the muruer of h^ni"y in his be. -
chamber, oescribea in The St , e as "a fine example of st ge
; rchitocture":
...dovn left is a rec-ja in nich ia situated
the Kind's bed, while another recess (eontre)
contains a oesk ;t vhich, as the scene orjns,
the Kint is discovered at >r yer.
The oeturc..: y :-.«3Vi_

ecorded Mansfield f L, business in tho scene;
His pause upon the threshold, his /ar.dn^ of
his hands ct the lire, his careful erran&ement
of himself in a posts against thu wall at the
heaa of the King's oed, Jiis deliberete drav.ing
of his s .ord, and the teetinc of the tip, were
ell so many t-icks, pcriorned with t cieaoly
precision in v;hich ttiere we.s no : uiver of liiu
or emotion.
(MeA; York aveninK Post. 17 ueceraber I6bs for the poor kine's ae.th.
The second act began ith falbin's set of the road to
Chertsey: and rticherd's interruption of the funeral procession*
The scene T.S "beautifully psinted'r :
Upon r rising mound of ground ri^.ht under
the shado ; of & tree Gloster is ciocove cd, lo
him enter l.astings ana followers, eric thea
the sound oi muffled drums is heard and
wondering villagers enter a.d crowd behind
a * oocen fence cio n left* Then from the
right enters the funeral procession, headed
by soldiers end boys waving, incense *.. :hile
attendant upon the coffin are Lady Anne am
her ladies, who *-re in turn folio oc by priests
and more soldie:s; the sight is e most iaposin^
one, and the general str^e rkint-^entent of tl^is
scene is excellent.
(The ata^a)
This splendour hardly fuliillcc the ctenuntio of historical
accuracy - Hell ascribes tne austerity of the procession -
or of Shakespeare's text, ^/;ich ctlls only for enough men to
bear " ;tr.- he or so oi Kerry the 6", but t^o demanos of st.- go
effect v;ere not easily i^norea->J> . In his acting oi this scv,ne
Mansfield's aptitude for "facieil action" and "slight, but
positive and cle&rly doiinec rnooificetions of e:; ::ression n seomec
to the oerturt..' y_ aevie; critic to htve found their best use:
His meekness under Lady Anne*s cenuncieti ns,
iiiu ilaiih of impudent liy ocrisy in "The fitter
for the Kiiio oi'Keeven that hath him 1-, his
solendici rouorr,oat=' oe and lover-like _>erauc.siV'--
ness in "ti.ine eyes, s e^t laoy, htw infected
mine", are excellent, ena propers us lor the it
rnc; auplicity of the

315
Archer, ho-ever, regretted thrt Pi nsfield made nothing of the
transition from "ft. ning hypocrisy" to "malignent Exultation"
in his breach of the promise to have the body Ukon to Chertsoy,
The act conduced •ith "A Room in Baynsrd»s Castle" (again
Telbin) - a version of Shakespeare's 11.2.
The third act, announced as taking place twelve years
later, inH63, showed the arrive 1 of the yjun LJ prioee of »,ales
and his reception in Crosby ^c.leco. ..gain, I^^sfielu's powers
/

316
any specific ccscrijtion oi the eiiect.
The fourth act of Mansfield's version began ;.ith an
abridged text of ohekespe^re's IV.1, situatec ithin the lower,
ihe set wrc by -..U.ttanks, and a., conmendec by Tha j.t^-.e as
another fine bit of stage masonry, in hich the cto e ork
stands out PS if in re lity it existed" - the texture ep e; rs
to r ave be^n achieved by trompe ci^oeij. pt inting rather th; n
moulding. This sceae :vos "lugibrious", thought The Saturday
ft*view (6 Ipril), £.nd might - ell be c^mcierised further. After
the second sc.ne, in vaich uicharc., :: a striking violence in
his air and eye", suggested the murder of the princes to
Buckingham, the tableau-curtains fell. They rose on the s.me
setting, but sonu hours later, rt evening. This w*s the
occasion of one of Mansiield's most striking visual effects:
...the sun is stressing through a coloured
'.-drido', making all within blood-redi Tyrrell
tells how the muraer of the children was
enacted, and then Rich* rcl enters cuo, after c
speech solus, seats himself upon his throne.
It is here that lir Mrnsfield introcuces some
highly drastic business. Richard is alone,
the nevs of the children's d-^ath has fallen
into open ears, but there comes a brief riioi^ut
of fear or remorse, and Aic'n. ru looks upon his
hand, on i.hich t ;e 1 st dying sun is sijoclcini,
is r^y: to his incgirution it is bloody, ana
in an a^ony oi nina the monarch cries aloud,
a cry that is half stran, led in its birth by
the entrance of Crtesby...
(The dtaAe)
The 3c-tui da,y Revie Oi:ve aauitionol detail -^: uicharu, sc-jiug
tiio "oloou" on his hanas, v.rung ti.e.n, ; ttempted to » i >o them,
and, nin an agony of terror 1 ', le.pt irom the throne . nd
crouched in its shado. . Ivos t..is legitimc.to? It apveurec th, t
Mensfielc's hi chard folt vury early the conscience to wi.ich
in ^hakespe.. r^ r s text be first admits in the t^nt sceii-. A
review of the lie- York production 614..,et>t;. tn.-.t th.., violence
of this piece of business hed been diminished, by the time
tf. nsfield returned to America, and that ourn n'o music -ein-
forcca itc eifect:
fxhe music, x.hich is peculiar to ti o_ rriiices
ana x:nich has been l.e re whenever they hc've
cp e rea, iu played, end t= « r.ucicnce c.t oncu
feels tr.at Richtra is thinkihj, oi tiio nurcorot,
i H'jcants, & .d th-: t t..e r-a l^^.t Sa^^osts to

317
him njthint, but blood. Terror-stricken, he slides
from the throne and sits brooding at its foot.
(Boston Herald. 2i. October
There is no mention of the "letp" and the cry of anguish. In
Dramatic Motes - ..hich reprinted a reirie first published in
The Observer - Richard is described as "stealing to the throne
end sUrting at the reflection u x>n his hand., .before beginning
'The Son o.. Clarence have I pent .*? close 1 " (DrMnetic Notes. 1669
(1B90) pp. 29-31). however modified the busines^, although
vivid, had little Justification in Shakes.e re's text (IV. 3)
^here Richard's account of his crimes is folio, ec by the
sardonic "To her I go, a jolly thriving v/ooer" - Kensfielc's , .i
guilty thoughts, v. ether violent or restra.nwd, sort ill v.ith
the business-like t nes of Richard's reception of Stanley's
bad neis. The effect v.js in any case un-literary, achieved
by mime, setting enc music.
In the fifth act, all the scenery for nich was by Telbin,
Mansfield moved quickly to the tent scene arid, ith ti;e deatn
of Richard, the play's clir.i, x. He had included as a second
part oi Act Four the confrontation .ith IMQZZI Elizabeth and t .e
iuch^si of York, during vhich Richard st rted guiltily at
each mention of his crimes - guilt v.hich The 3 &t relay Kevie
found excessively markoc. Ora the tent scene hio le r hed
reached its zenith. Becks recorded an extr neous piocj of
business in tLe lines,
c .. chides tide tarciy ^ cited ni,_,ht
Th:-.t like a f^ul ana ugly .'itch does limp
,jo teaivusly av.ry. I'll to fty c-.juch.oi
Becks observed:
g >es tov;ards t nt - sees hio sru ao - fancies it
as soaeone - ^rcsps: s..orc fi-jm table u, ^lashes!
Oh! Oh I re )!s.ces s ore i.nc retires.
The text v;&s rrron^ec tj "discover" hicharu sittin^, at c. oocii'irv-
before his tent, st ^e~ri c ht - The ^t. ^o io^au the scene
l: m'X.t imposing,". Mansfield's plen, tcunbrntec to uithmai-, oi
asving RicLc^u sjGck i r the- visions, v£.s evidently ab- nconec ,
but a sjiies of gcu.es we s used t> iv- tr.e cppiritionj the
ao,>ropriato ethurerl .urlity, r.iost «.rtist?c lly nfna^od". A
revie^.e in Tli^L-Vl^-t 1 '0 (April 1&&9} found ti.e behcv: jui- of

318
Hichara "r. t er hysteric*. 1", but approved of the "frenzied
spirit" of the speech beginning 'Give me another horse", and
ti e manner in vhich the kin^ suspected Catesby of being aruther
ghost. Archer, in his sec ;no notice, remarked upon Mansfield's
alteration of the stress in the line "C tesby, I fe?r, 1 fetr -",
This wi»s spoken v.lth strong ennho^sis on the final "fesr" -
"as .ho shoulc s y, 'aven I no kuo.-j the taste of terror'" -
instead of the usual reeding, b which Catesby interrupted
Richard in mid-speech,
After a brief scene in "A Glade" for Hichm^no's adcress to
his troops, c= me the battlefield:
On a risin^ mound up the stage (left) arc
realistic,: lly jf?inteo deao. boaies, and the
same rany be ..-,aen do. n right under the spree din^,
^ranches oi e tree, while up stage, right, is a
bridge •
(The
The fight v;aa ,o il-errangec, and the bridge gave the combatants
some reason for Shoosing t:.i- particular confinec sptco to Join
battle* The Theatre sav, in .ichcro's heroism a quality "beyond
mere anime.1 courc-^.c" :
There v;^s the desperction oi L-. man v,ho hac
set "life upon a cast", -m, the actual fi ht
between Richaro ana Rict .iuonu v.a^ no rn-ro cnild's
play or delicate ience, but a hackiu^ at e; , ch
otaer that, should the s ield of either by iny
ch nee f c il to receive t;.e bio , w uld probably
be very p&i.ii'ul to the unlucky recipient.
The Captious Critic w^s not ->o in.)rcso3c,and likenec the combat
to "a concerts bfttle 1th rolling pins znc stuc^pan lids"
(ISDrN 6 A yril IfitS").
Ksasfielo's perlorn; ace vas obviously an intelligent one,
but its insistent evoiaance of the more obvious "points" w. s
not entirely consistent ith his aul'i^rence to Jib or. oone
of the most famous lines rr.im the old cdapt^tijn (jncKKiu^
"Off ith hi;., head! - oo much for Buckingham 11 ) had been uiocarded,
and some of tVc more suspect innov tions, notably the
i'rolo.. ue, retainer,. Mansfield's otr.--to L.y ley in presenting
nich; rd as n personable, courtly ru-n, wLos^ ^rr.cucl cue lino

319
into guilt-ridcen criminality accompanied r change in appearance
from the youthfulnes, of the ^arlior scenes to the more
h'-iggcra, older mzm oi the Iter p;. rt of the play. This was,
to some critics, reminiscent of Dr Jekyll's tr? reformation
from elegant youth to the hideous derangement of II, de. To hcvo
asserted the play»s disunity by reminding the audience of the
passage of time v s n t altogether ..ise - The Illustrated
Sporting and Drcia,, tic invers
tion- 1 tone" in i-ich the blrnJv vorse \ • s c.^live.ec, but
ot^er rovia ers vrere unenthusir^tic, and the complaint of the
lack .1 OQ °G v rse-s,,G king n t: ^ n-ouo n st- 0o s raisea
rgr.in.
i^ansficld's producti m v.os rut recoivec or dly - it it.teci
much better then tr.e eii ^rts «of Kendal : nd h;rc, or even * iss
Anderson - but ,*rnsfield w; s not satisfied. .^i.Jit d; ys iter
the first icrfornancvj he r-jto biticrly to ..illiwi winter:
i'her-j are nore hypocrites, liars, uare-jite3 rnc
;,ycov:iciiits he.'u to tiie t> u,'. i-o i.dlu t.-. a in
America to the s usre st;-to.^,^
In Mfc-y ..o -rote v.ith a:iticip£-ti^n ji ol^.suro vt le• viuw "t .esc
beautiful but inhospit ole shores f»Ui tr.is a.^ t. otic .-eo^lc" °.
; is '.ettor., have c.n htibit-.al tone of s-lf-oity, :nc t..o irct
that hie, Kichi.rd we s kc- tnc-n o.tr v & ntly .-r iaoc, ^eoms to
-vo U-'oOt the r«tu;.'iod exile - '.he te:iLC,.c.y lasted t... /u •.-

320
his ctr^er, and his rationalisations of the manner in .rhich
he eonaucted his business -were often perverse and puzzling.
Shaw described Mansfield as a "spoilt child", and his behaviour
towards Gilbert appears to have been a foretaste of his
habitual attitude to critics, authors, and public. In August
1906, hen he wts discussing ,,ith (of ; 11 people) v.illiam
v. inter the adaptation of Peer ttunt. he wrote in one letter of
his t>rect admiration for the play and in the next, thirteen
days later, o± his intention to preset it "in c, spirit of
travesty and thus to "hoist the Ibsen crtae etc. with its
O'..n petard"*".
37
The difficulties iiansfiela experienced in
coming to terms v.ith Ibsen *s ; ork ,;ere pertly a result of his
extraordinary temperament - his earliest biographer, t>i ul
iailstoch, characterised him ts "w^iiasic. 1": after an arc,u-eat
with an i .pro sari o he apent houru in a deep ue^rod^ion,
travelling back c.ros £.ic f orv\ rci:3 on the fer y from the Battery
to Jtaten Island"' 0 ,
Mansfield's ujjciiu'c .ill was useful to hin in iii... American
career - Di^hraar iiolpod him by reporti.\, tha premiere in
Boston as : a series of iourteon historic. 1 pictures, some of
exquisite beauty, atl intensely interesting, aiiu f r . u^;ht v.ith
the spirit of a fascinating epoch" (Me_w fork Tiates » ^ /ctober
18Sy). Of the play's present., tion in Ne I ork, on lo uecoinber
at i'alraer's theater, iiithmar ^rott tiu t ikansi'ield's pcting mi^ht
be "too elaborate in design" for tie con.ion ritinc' but possessec
"splendid vi^or and i-ich vitality" (Mew fork Tinus, 5 January
1890). The production was, Ode 11 reaerabered in his -Ui ...lo ;jf
thej'iu.'f York 5ta,:.e_ > "compc iv-ble in ue. uLy onu tccurccy of
cietail to ..hi't henry Irving had sta^eu ?t ti.e Lyceum". In ids
tv.o -volume study, .jhakea.^ef.re. f r 3n .jcftcrton jto Iryiii^ Jcell
wrote:
I remember ^t/ter appropri£?t--ne^b, ovoi; impr^-titjivsri_
a. ui st oi"fo» b ^t tiiu production »;-,;=>
ubern,r; 1 enc made no BKirk.n
The reason for t: is lack oi a lasting im^rcs ,ian Icy p; rtly in
riansfield's failure to follow ^i-^chcre r J^._i_ ith othei proouctioas
of e similar n, tur.s: he had stejucs t::.e pi: y efter six moiiti;s
i.i London, urin& hicj. tiine ho had enjo./et. sona su cocoa in a

321
sensational ,>lcy. Ke had not established himself, although
he :,es cle: rly heading in the right direction when he decided
to leave the ni .i-osoitcble shores" of in^lrna. He had presented
one of ti.e history plays - a part of the dramatists's
canon vvhich might be considered especially suited t; the orevailin^
t;ates in presentation, end hich JUG been neglected
since Coleman's awkward attempt to revive Henry V. The last
major revival oi the pi- y nao been that of Irving, uncor
Bateman's management at the Lyceum i, 1877 and, witii exception
of a scene given at a benefit for J.I .Toole at Tooio's Theatre
in July Ibfcji, lrvin reporter to bo c-.^atc-n./ltin^ the nanc^meat of the
Well, I vish him every success in the >.oric ,
though 1 shoulc not ctre for my bror-c-^iL-ch
to be de,jence:it on th- chance of thj success
of such sn -ri.:ororise. I nn about t, .^retty
/,-)o

322
hen he conies we h pj he ,111 h^ve su^cient
confidence in his present rntr.oc, oi proceed..^
to dispense v;ith costly scenery, end never to
dretm of long runs, fomt is v/tntev. most of all
in London is a manager who ill audaciously rely
upon the attraction of the art >f acting as the
single attraction to his theatre.
(28 January 18t-8)
nis company wts kno.vn as possessing "perhaps the best end
largest repertory of ?r.y company th£t u
!ihe .••. -. nor.n ;n corijc-.ny htd succetned by ti.oir
i3itn>le siaoarity in a Groer1 pity. «Ly not f.pply
tho'sfniB r.uthoo to ~h; ket>pe, re? iiier^ 1 \;as
ri ht; I had &r> spec the ide, oi si..ipl- atro-i..^,
ti;:; simole strengti. ana com ICK poU-oia'.ity
doi'mant in ^ uroek stttue. 1 h, a UiUortu ti tely
rut lei.rn-cC the co^Jjxity 01 the liio it presents
r. d the tochnicr-1 skill re. uirec for ios expression

323
An engagement at the Lyceum, in ^eptembef 1882, shoved Benson
the extent of his ignore nee: he tic n >t know !«o to fi^ht or
die effectively and unobtrusively, he coo not understand v.hy
the make-up which he so mistrusted var; necessary on & str^e
brilli;ntly lit by ^as, ; nc' he did not have any inklinb of the
"focus anc balance" by which actors arranged themselves on
stage. In his autobiography F>enson describes the lee riling of
these lesions, reportin0 then as deliverec by Lo,;e and others
- the most memorable .;^ an in.iunctio., jf /.lion, the pior.iot^r:
V*e aoiiH i.Y.nt ;-ny bloody brains on the ot, ^ , r;i..<
b:y, v;e vrrnt ^uts, ^uts, ^.uts!
(p. 168)
After the run of Romeo.- and Juliet Benson joined kioo alleya in
fcanchuster, leaving behind him the fashionable success of the
Agamemnon company and the grandeurs of the Lyceum. The y«ars
t. c.t folloi.ea were an c.p>vront;icc;ohi;» of oorts, but the exertions
and economies of touring -./ere soon mitigatea by i.is being -
after so snort a time - his o, n rnaria^er and by the application
tj c standard .provincial re jertoire ol the ide^ lo he lub .:o ,;s later to
ow,come hi.s i.iie that the coraorny va* run u\: jn the I eini.^en
system, impl^iu., that ell t.-.e actors t --ok small pi-rt-, on
occasion**2 . He believed in the virtues of a repertory system,
as op. osec. t5 long ru-is ^ t; labors te ..rcducti .-;^, i policy
which wf>s as much e consequence of the natia-e of he compemy
he a, u taken over as of o;iy ./.eory of dr:::stic ?rt. benson's
con^ny haa to oifer its provincial auoijncea : v , riety oi
:)l;;y:,, economica .ly oti^c. This Gconomy cio. i: -t yet consist

324
in the use of unit sets, stylizeo decor ami neo-^lizebethen
costume - for Benson the design of e production would be
traditional in its succession of painted cloths and set scenes,
but inexpensive, sturdy and easily tr. sported.
For his London debut as a manager Be^son had chosen a
play which had long b^en considered above theatricel artifice.
Haalitt, reviewing a Covent Garden production in January 1816,
had set tiie p-vttern for revie ors of subsequent revivals:
VJe have found to our cost, once for all, that
the regions of fancy and the boards of Covent
Garden are not theearae thing. All tht.t is fine
in the pi y, v.'&s lost in the representation. The
spirit v,£>s evaporatec, the genius was fled; but
the spectacle w,: s fine: it was t*ut ; hich stved
the play.,,
The It ter part, of this review hi a be ,n included in Characters
. » ^^^*^*mmm*********^*
6f Shakes Ntsare* s Plays. first publish© a in 1817, me had
become a lucus classicus of anti -theatrical sentiment:
Poetry and the st£ ge ao not agre>- together. The
attempt to reconcile them fails not only of
effect, but of decorum. The ideal has no place
upon the sta^e, vhich is a picture vdthout
perspective: everything there is in the foreground.
That k ;hich is merely an airy shape, a
a passing thought, im. jeoiat^ly becomes an
re; lity. , ,
The argu c;it persists iii Korley*s notice oi whelps 's reviv;!:
The device of the clov.ns in the plfty to
present Moonshine seems but a frir expression
of thj kind of success th.. t might
be achieved by the best actors vho should
attempt to present A Jlic'su: :.mer Might's
' on the stege * « .
Phelps haci used a green gauze, subcuing "the flesh ana blood of
the

325
v/e snrink from it and c nnot harmonize it ith
the ideal,^
Phelps, according to Morley, m^na^ed to incorporate Bottom
ith the "ideol", p rticul&rly in his a;vakening ("he cannot
sever the real from the unreel,and still we are made to feel
thct his reality itself is but a fiction"), but he allovea the
lover's scenes to become boisterous, obscuring uhat Morl^y
felt to be the pt.thos of Helena's part:
\ The merriment which Shakespeare connected with
these scenes wcs but a little of the poet's
sunlight mer.nt to glitter among tears.,«
Charles Kean's production, in October 1#56, was too sho.;y
for Morley, who objected to its "Shadow d, nee" of fairies,
the maypole, moving panorama, and magnificent palace set:
I do not wish the splendour less, or its attrr.cti^n
less, but only ask for more heed to the securing
of a perfect harmony between the conceptions of
the decorator and those of the
Kean-'s stage -mi. na^enent was best suited to the histories and
"classical" plcys, of which A Jviu summer Night's. Uret-m v.t.a an
exciaple only in a secondary sense. Kean coulu m, ke historical
events bright ina ret.l to the eye of the spectator, but he
could not use the s me resources to ^roc.uce the "ide 1"
qualities i./hich critical opinion demanded in A, * -ids, .re; -or uirht
j.ream.
In June It CO .^cv/ard Saker, a Live pool D no^er, hcci
presented the play .ith rmdest success at the Me ^adler's
i;clls Theotre, under general man.:^c::;ent of Mis.^ Bstorain. The
nev; regime at the theatre cid not last long, enu tl.e employment
of j./ker rna his cor.i _>< ny seoms to hrve been an attam.,t
to recoup the losses of an enterprise hich set out ith
iceals not dissimilar to ti.ose of Benson. ,n 25 February, the
first nit.ht of e season of Lecbeth. ; mtnifesto had ap eareo
in the pro^,ra r:e :
ITS batemen had ende t vourec, &; far es /.er
meario ana the apliances of a no ••> theatre
v.'ould pe.-mit, to properly produce this ^roct
olry. "she esks from the press and the public
their gener us inoul^ence tov/trd an e.iort
which she believes a Iruoeble one, viz: Lhu
re-establishment, at a Thootre horo the prices

are vlthin reach of ell, the old system of
carefully but njt extravagantly producing good
plays at moderate cost, and for a limited
number of nights.
The private boxes and orchestrr sttlls would cost to pounds,
ten oi.illings, and-seven shillings and sixpence respectively,
and in them evening dress would be obligatory - the other
parts of the house rangec from Balcony st;lls at lour shillings
and Family Circle at to shillings to Pit ana Gallery at one
shilling ano si« pence respectively. This ur.s not unreasonable,
but the Lyceum prices did not ciffer in proportion to the
relative prestige of the two theatres - a gallery sect for
Irvingfs Merchant of Venice, in June 1880, co*t one shilling,
Upper Circle three shillings, Amphitheatre helf-o-crov;n rncl
Pit t* o shillings. A Lyceum strll in!880 cost only ten shillings
- although by the end of the decsde it had risen to half-aguinea.
Uhen a roviv 1 at the Lyceum merited half a column
in The Times, and a nevr production at Mrs Batemen's received
a grudging half-inch, the well-to-do ^ere hardly to be tempted
to Islington.
To rekindle Phelps*s flame was proving an expensive and
difficult task, and Saker's commonplace but spectacular £
Mio-summer Might's Dream, v.ith Little Addie Blaiche as il__uck,
would, it was hoped, save the dey. The measure of Seker*s
prociucti jn can be taken from a note on the cover of its
programme:
Produced by Vr iiavara Seker, of the Alexandr
Theatre, v.ith the coryletenes-b which nas
cjmanaed suc-ess in Liver>ool, Dublin, m-ijciton,
etc. An efficient Dramatic Company, beautiful
Classic and Sylvan Scenery, magnificent Dresses
and Appointments, and Orchestra i..nd J^orus
expressly selected for the performance of
Inondelssohn's music, and a troupe oi ^iitcc Child
Artists as Oberon, Titania, fuck etc., -ho hsve
gained extraordinary favour horever they
have soreared by tieir remarkable ability,
v/ill, I'rs B^te an trusts, bein ior l-.r ot-Lo
production of thic exiuisito pi; y the sc.-.ne
popularity it has 1 on elso.hore.
(Frogri.ime, 28 Juxle 1LLO)
The infcnt phenomena, ho. ever accomplished, macJe the play into
a musical and balletic entertainment ith occ sionsl oielogue,

3*7
and The Times described Saker's presentation as one "in which
the musicians cut a more prominent figure than the dramatist,
and of which the most attractive feature proved to be the
clever troop of children who played the fairy parts." (15 July
1680). Mrs Bateman's management was granted a temporary reprieve
.
The few London productions of the play seen in the ensuing
nine years foilowec the sf>me plan: children and Mendelssohn.
At the Crystal Palace Theatre Oscar Barrett, a producer noted
for Christman pantomimes, found summer employment for the
juvenile pupils of Mrae Katti Lanner's National Training School
for Dancing, who personated Fairies, i^lves, Wood-lymphs,
uragon-Flies, Glov.-.orms, Frogs, Raboits, etc.". All the
fairy parts were distributed among children, and the only
adults in the programme were Bottom end his fellow mechanicals.
The text - as a tissue of songs end choruses, '..ith vestiges of
the dialogue and the mechanicals 1 scenes. These comic p&stse^es
-ere sometimes seen at benefit performances, but* the full text,
or eny approximation to Shakespeare's intentions, disappeared
from London until 1869 •
Produced at the Christmas season, Benson's revival of the
play c-tered for the tc ste for I encelssohn, fi-iries and
music. The scenery was bui.lt on a "patent match-;o- t>rir;ci jle
devised by Hugh r.oss, who was tho "director" of the string,
and the f t iry costumes were designed by Const nee Bonson:
I-irs Benson had most successfully carried out
in the costumes the idea of merging the fairies
into the trees, plants and flo ors decorating the
st-:ge. The small elves v;ere the spring's choicest
flowerets come to life, toking human shape, ilie
w od-nymphs, in their green leaves and green nuslin,
blended with the graceful shrubs rnu foliage of
Oberon's v.o?cec glade and Titenic's box.or.
This is reminiscent of the flower ballets designed by wilhelm
(cf.p.147) but it is &lso a step to ards the fulfilment of
the Romantic desire to render dream and reality inaivisiole.
Moreover, the critics vho prraseci Benson's sto^izag, auu
exceeded in number those who enjoyed his acting, suggested
that tnis was, of all Shakespeare T s works, tiu-t i'-iost suited

328
to the new stagecraft. Archer argued th< t the critics cited
as authorities against t;.e theatric;! presentation of this
ply "knew nothing of modern methoc^ of stige presentation",
and that the crudities of the Georgian stage had been left
behind (The World. 29 January 1890). Wedmore, in The Academy,
went so far as to propose that the pl*y was dependent on
spectacle - of a modest and tasteful kind, be it understood -
for any claims it might have to be performed. Either the
scenes should be played for all their vorth, or thore should be
"exquisite spectacle" good enough to rouse the man in the stalls
and boxes, "the man who has dined and wishes nobody ill", to
something other than "the polite indifference which is proper
to him". There was nothing in the plot or the characterisation
to hold the attention:
No-one wants to take very seriously this
exquisite fafice, save for the literature
which its framework enshrines; md it is
not to the Globe nor to any other theatre
th*.-t we need go for the fulleenjoyment of
literature.
(11 January 1890)
Benson had produced the play ith the necessary "goodly show",
and that v.as all a reasonable man could deman. of a mane ^er.
The Stage was of ^he opinion that A Midsummer Uight/s Dream
was an ideal choice for a young company not yet fully vorsed
in elocution t nd acting techniques, and one vhich lent itself
admirably "to ell the uondorful improvements" that had cone
about "in st; ge-d essing, scenic efiects and lighting" (27
December 1998). The ara stated that, in the absence jf another
Phelps to plf.y Bottom, the staging must be the f otor to
distinguish one new production from another, for the other
characters ./ere "shadovy beings, in whom it is difficult to
take any reel interest" (21 December 1889). The suspicion
of the theatre had come full circle, from the contention that
the stage could do no justice to Shakespeare's pity, to the
dismiss?! of the comedy as a piece interesting only cs an
opportunity for the disol£ y of scenic sill.
The acting of Benson's company was juagec accorcinbly, and
shortcomings v.eie listed and then prrdoned. Wedmore concluded
that "intelligence" v/^.s to be looked for in the company, ! fro:.:

329
star to super", but that "great dr matic ctp-city" was "not
as clearly evident". The Illustrated aporting and Dramatic
News was unusual in its condemnation of acting treated elsewhere
with patronizing indulgence:
As to the acting, not only of Mr and Krs
Benson, but of most of the principals,
tottering all the time under its o ;n inadequacy,
the ; dditioml weight of the
rnisq-on-scene was too much for it entirely,
($ February 1590)
The setting was praised highly in all viuprters. The first
scene shov.-ed the exterior of Theseus 1 palace, with a coluaned
entrance guarded on either acie by a marble lion. 5es and
hills were visible in the distance, anoVtr e grouping in the
scene was, thought The Era, "creditable". The m rkings in
an 1897 prompt-book, no., at Stratforc, show movements similar
to those o.t the beginning of Mary Anoerson's ..inter's Tale.
with supers performing suitably classical actions < in this
cesc, filling jars at a fountain) . After a second scene
in Quince* f s shop, there v.et. a brief interval - eight minutes
in 1897 - followed by the first sight of the ..ooaland ^lade
by moonlight, a "masterpiece of pooticrl efioct":
The medium bet /eon t>o much "Building up"
and mere flatness and unreality is happily
hit; and particularly tender is the effect
of the heay copse is the background. The
over-branching trees and foliege &re finely
done, and the lighting-is very adroit.
The only improvements which The JSra could suggest v,ere that
the electric "glo - orno" crawling on the lerve, of a t, icket
down right shoulc be v;hite rather than yello end th--1 e t. ick
felt mat should be laid under the stage-cloth to ab orb the
sound of the fairies 1 feet.
Titania's bower, in the fourth act, elicited further
praise, as did the set for the final act, vath its alter ano
attendant priests. The f;iries appeared in "various dances
and groupings", at times carrying coloured lamps, aao their
dresses had "that delicate indefiniteness wi ich bu3t suits the
vague ana supernatural nature of the 'good people* (Ihe ^ra).
At the end of the play, after the departure of the mortals,
slaves cleareci the str te,the \ hite lines gave v;ay to

330
and the fairies performed an elaborate dance culminating in the
ascent of Puck on a wire. Archer suggested that Mfcss ur^ce
Geraldine should "put a little elasticity into her final flight,
instead of allo./ing herself to be hauled aloft like a bale of
cotton".
Benson's Lysander die not recieve more than polite acknowledgement
for a conscientious effort, and the Captious
Critic wrote th;.t the classical stiffness of pose adopted by
the men of the cast (with the exception of the mechanicals)
made it difficult to distinguish between their acting abilities.
Sydney Price, substitutec at short notice fr Joseph Anderson
in the pert of Theseus, was described by Archer as one of the
two "most serious blots" on the performance* Theseus w^s
played in the manner of a drill-sergeant, in contradiction to
the other seriously inadequate character, Otho cituart's
"UnguicL and lackadaisical" Oberon. Shaw, in his column as
music critic of The Star, described the company as ^alkin^
"in thick dcskness through Shakespeare's measures", cno Scott,
in .The Daily Tele^r oh. likened the hearing of the company's
verse to listening at '-'some muffled telephone":
l.e put our distrected ear t ;> the tube anci
nothing is forthcoming but indistinct t-nci
hazy utterance, v.e hear sound, but the sense
sell, OBI falls on expectant ecr tsicj .
(20 December
Scott was disappointed to f&nd little more th. n good setting
and management: "the text of Shakespeare, with ?11 its aroma
and fragrance, clean gone".
Benson's first night w,-s patronized by the literary,
artistic and fashionable world: i-.illi.'ra Konis, Aim Tadona,
/-'alter Crane and Holm n Hunt v.ere in the audience, and The
Stage reported that "Miss iillen Terry and her son arrived Ju,:t
in time t:> witnes. the last scene l! . A letter from Walter
Crane congratulated Benson on the costumin^ of the fairies,
but the favour of artistic society wts not en^u^h to out ei^h
the reservations of the reviewers, or The Pall Mall uezette's
judgement thct the production ;s "a model 3h? kes.jeereen

331
pliy for our young folks" (20 December 1& (>). The complaints
of Jha,. end Arcner th t Benson inserted superfluous, dra,;ling
syllables ( "ttot Hermi, but Hele;iar 1 love") and Scott's
censure . er^ criticisms of him in the aspects of his ert ..hich
he most vtlued. His revival which included portions of the
text xvhich had not be~n her.rci since P helps, was praisec lor the
qualities aimed ct by Saker rnd Oscar Barrett.
Adhering to his principle of giving plays in repertoire,
Benson took A. Midsummer Night »s Dream off the bills, anc
substituted The Taming of the ^hre. on 23 J:.naery. The move was
not a vise one :
Lven the leniency justly due to Ix reason f s
youth, earnestness, and bold endetv ur, crnnot
prevent our confessing that this performance
. . .was deficient in breadth, body and comedy
tone.
(The &r_a. 25 January 1890 J
The pity, although treated as farce, va- "laboriously uninteresting".
Archer tempted to compare the revival v,ith that
of Dcly, deciaec that such a comparison Wjulci be "too cruul"
(The Worftd, 29 January 1890). The pi- y failed to ora« audiences,
and spoiled the business of A Midsummer Wight's M'o^m. Hamlet.
produced on 6 March, did little to improve matters, being ov r-
long (from eight until five past midnight) and inccie ;uat ly
cct-'C. \vedmore found Benson "a university m n who h;s t; ken
pains" and wondered whether he could be saidi to possess "the
poetry, imagintotion, gr;c_, ease and sense oi rhythm" cenanded
by the part (The Academy » 15 March 1690). The
Review, desperately charitable, pronounced t.,e nev Hamlet
"thoroughly interesting sometimes in consequence, rcthei tatn
in spite of, the mistakes" (15 Kt-rch 1890) - hardly a n ;tice
to attract playgoers. Othello follov.ec on 24 April: its
st; t.ing W£-s "neat, artistic, and pictures iue, but rot weightily
elaborate", but such en undertaking v here Irving, in I6bl, had
failed v,as "most courcgeous, n^t to say r sii" (The Era, :6 /..jri
1890).
Not only did it seem thct Benson *s succes- . ith A kid s
. i hed been of a kind he did net ..elcono, out tht t
his season was d. indling into prot^er of the s > orcciic attempts

to provide a repertory theatre in London ..here none wc-,s welcome.
His best work henceforth lay in Stratford ana the provinces, ana
it was Tree who by a policy of sumptuous "legitimacy",
punctuated v.ith sensational modern successes, wes preparing to
inherit Irving»s ascendancy. In the carting cecade tnet Tree
and Irving, vith incursions by Daly, Alexander and Forbes
Robertson, dominated the performance of Shakes,* i re in Lohdon.
In 1690 was seen the last of Mngfield's productions, am the
final attempt by Hrs Langtry to become a female rive 1 of the
important actor-managers.

333
Chapter Eight:
ANTOKY A.ITC CLEOPATRA IN 1890.

334
To a society which had made a cult of chaste femininity, and
consequently was fascinated toy transgression, Cleopatra had
a peculiar attraction. Swinburne awarded her one from his
abundant stock of crowns:
To sum up, Shakespeare has elsewhere r;iven
ua in ideal incarnation the perfect mother,
the perfect wife, the perfect daughter, the
perfect mistrtss, or the perfect maiden: here
•nly once for all he has given us the perfect
and the everlasting woman.^
In addition to the attraction of the heroine, he wrote,the
play v/as remarkable for the "world of great men and great
things, •high actions and high paa iono 1 " which the author
had "spread under her for a footcloth or hung behind her for
a curtain". The impersonation of the Egyptian queen and the
representation of her court, together with the Roman locations
of the play, were tempting and daunting tasks: the original
dramatic material would need to be ruthlessly adapted, and
the impersonation of Antany and Cleopatra would require an
actor and actress of exceptional skill and power. In 1881
Edward Dowden wrote to Bram Stoker:
I an still haunted by tlio thought of Irving as
Ant any & "liss Terry, if ohe could be embrowned
by tm Egyptian cun, as Cleonntrn. The Egyptirji
scenery would cielicht the 1 vers of beautiful
spectacle. And the two prrts c-.ro GO predoiniiivnt
in the play, & each GO glorious.
2
But Irving, wisely, avoided the challenge - the failure of
his Othello and his Romeo cu^coots that he mcj hnve mode an
intere; ting Octavius Caeoar, but hardly an Antony.. The pipy
had not been attempted since 1873 when, in 1890, it v.no
produced for nn actress who iuid quite recently entered the
oroi'cuoion.
i. The Pli'y and its Producers.
Tho major productions of Shakespeare's text - or an approximation
to it - had been three: Phelpo'a in 1849, C ilvert's
in 1866 and Chatterton's in 10?3. Of these the lant, in a

335
version by Andrew Halliday, had been least important. Calvert»s
production in Manchester was a praiseworthy effort and its
text was used for a revival in London at the Princess*a with
Isabella Glyn as Cleopatra*
Mioa Glyn was by now established aa the Cleopatra of
her generation, having played the part at Sadler's .Veils.
The Illustrated London Newa pronounced her performance "the
most superb thing ever witnessed on the modern stage" (27
October 1849) and The Athenaeum considered her final scene
"a triumph":
With the asp at her bosom, the countenance of
Cleopatra became irradiated with a oudden
gladness.*,
(27 October 1849)
This was of a piece with her acting throughout the latter
iart of the tragedy, in which "indignant majesty, compulsory
resignation, heroic resolve, and tender mercy were all adequately
pronounced". The earlier scene of Cleopatra's interview
vith the messenger who brings news of Antony *@ marriage (II,
i) ic instanced as one of "those parts where di^iity and
.anger were expreased" - the reviewer did not look for any
comeOy in the Queen, In the list of the character's moods
•iven by The Illustrated London News there is a trace of
li irt-licartedneso: Mro Glyn
...combined cro.ce and dignity - all tb< fascination
of a Vectrio with the majesty of a Part?; oho was,
as it were, the impersonation at once of the aublinc
and the beautiful.. .Gorgeous in person, in costume,
and in her ctyle of action, che moved tlic Egyptian
Venus, 'inerva, Juno - now pleased, now civ Try - now
eloquent, now silent - capricious, and re olved,
according to the aituation and sentiir.rnt to be
rendered, withal she was clnccical, and her ^oooc
severely statuesque.
,'iss Glyn'u first role at Sadler's Welle wac Volumnia, and
her Cleo .atra appears to have retained traces of the uonan
matron. She was very much to the taste of her contempor .rieo,
although photographs do not convey iicr chrnn, t( .ivirv; rather
an impression of severe respectability. Rocsetti, after coaing
her in Leigh Hunt's Legend ;x Florence, wrote that chc waa
"godlike", but an engraving in Vhc Illustr-'ted London Hews
r - Proudie. 3

Her public readings, and the revival of the play in 1867,
served to associate Miss Glyn firmly with Cleopatra. The notice
of this later performance which appeared in The Timea attempted
a novel explanation of the difficulty of the character!
Cleopatra is, in point of fact, a comedy character,
who comes to a tragic end, and has therefore presented
no remarkable temptation to actresses in
either of the groat departments of their art. She
is made up of subtlety, and is not bleosed with
those situations that take an audience by stown,
and remain fixed in the memory when the rest of
the work is comparatively forgotten*
(18 May 1867)
The description of Miss Glyn's performance does not suggest
any great fund of comicality, hinting rather at a veiled and
goUty sensuality. Cleopatra, "enraptured with the joys of
the moment", courts the destruction of her lover and herself,
:U
and when robbed of its delights finds refuge,
like a true voluptuary Of the antique type, in
a painless death* She lives for love and pleasure,
and in a sort of sleepy ecstasy she dies*
Not a very amusing woman, nor one capable of hopping forty
paces in the public street*
The production by Phelps was sound and well-appointed,
and "that of Calvert drew from Tom Taylor, who amongst other
things was art-critic of The Times• a letter to The Manchester
Gaardian applaudiag its educational potential!
It occurred to me that while a Social Science
congress was sitting at Manchester, a visit to
the Prince's Theatre might suggest to some of
our leading lights in "sociology" how important
an element in national education and culture a
well-managed theatre might be madej how much, in
a town like Manchester, such a performance ao
this was calculated to awaken a living interest
in the past, and to connect its monuments and
scenery with the great figures that lived and m
moved among them and their association, which
constitutes one of the chief sources of interest
for educated minds*
(9 October 1866)
In a kindred spirit the critic of The Illustrated London news
represented Shakeepeare's intentions in the Romrn Plryc:
He purposed to show the origin and ^rov/th of
cristocratic and imperial principles in nations
and peoples, and the fatal ic ues to v/hich the
influence, if unrestricted in ita operators, hao
always inevitably conducted.

337
The tragedy O f Antony and Cleopatra was that of two persons
who chose to live toy will, to the denial of other forces, and
the poet used his power to outsat erotic and sentimental
fueling only in order to enf oice his moral. Shakespeare was
not primarily interested in pu^sion, and had avoided it in
the preceding Roman Plays:
but he had now arrived at a portion of his theme
where the ornament he had previously bestowed >n
the subject of Troilus and Cressida wco expedient;
and again. . . he became magniloquent and ultra-
(25 October 1 67)
Such reflectionsi and so naive an attitude to the play's
poetry, rnijht be expected from Tom Taylor's "educated minds".
The 1873 production was part of Chatterton's campaign to
revive Drury Lane as a home of legitimate drama - The .Tiiaes
remarked that "as usual" he aimed for "the olden mean, which
lies between unpractical 'legitimists* and advanced decpisers
of the past" (22 September 1873)* The reviewer quoted at length
Halliday's nreface to the acting edition, in which Schle cl,
lervinus and Johnson were arduced as sunnorting blio respectability
of adaptation. Hal 2 id ay reinforced thece authorities
'.ith the reflection that "If Ai.,if a loaf be bet i; or th; n no
bread, curely it is better to have a little of Shake- -TO are
than none at ell", and that, in any case, the author was
regarded in hie day "not as a legitimate, but a sensational
/>
dramatist" 4". Chatterton's programme note assured the spectator
that the play was to be produced in "unprecedented s-lendour",
with acoiiery by illiam Bever ! ey and costume, copied "from
the splendid collection of Roman and Egy 'tian .-antiquities in
the British Museum", ?h? ?inen reviewer admitted th;-.t :.uch c.
proceedure v;as necessary to attract "c nublic ..ith -, hon rn
ap ^cciation of appropriate decoration has been cultivated to
'-n ; Inost morbid de^rrcc".
lliaay divided the text into four acto and thirteen
scenes, each oct concluding !,;ith a visual, if not histrionic,
coup de theatre. At the end of the Tirr.t act vv s 3e:n Cleopatra's
barge, "here transferred to :T:^yt in order tliat co
magnificont a scene :.:ay not bo lost". Having thus beg;r.r'd
all (!ecc 'iption, the version -iroceedecl to a cocond act con-

338
aioting of two short scenes in Caesar's house, dispatching
all the events in Rome, and a third giving a "view of Rome,
and grand Roman Festival in honour of Antony and Gctavia",
Antony and Octavia passed down a "path of flo.vers" whilst a
choir of thirty boys aang Andrew Levey's setting of The Merry
of ."fay and a S'iiss Banks performed a "new and ori ;inal
song" entitled The May Song. Act Three consisted of two chert
scenes in Cleopatra's palace, followed by the oea-shore and
a naval battle between the Roman and Egyptian fleets. Act
Pour had three scenes, the final catastrophe taking place in
"The Temple of Isiol" (Chatterton's exclamation mark).
The Illustrated London News did not wholly disapprove
of this mutilation, but pointed out its consequences for tae
actress, Ellen
It may seem a slight thing whether a scene
coTimencea .ith a discovery or an entrance,
but frequently it is a natter of ^rcat
importance, in an artictic point of view.
The former rives occasion for a quiet
beginning and a gradual working up of a
climax, a process v;hich recommends itself
to the judicious auditor by a craduatee
sense of beauty, which is inconsistent vith
the treatment indicted on by the latter.
There was, accordingly, a lack of repose in
the general style of ~'iss Wallis's nerformonce.
(27 September 1~73)
the most distinguished performance was that of John ; sydcr as
£nobarbus, James Anderson»s Antony having little power or
feelin,-;. Although :.ome (including the a'ineo critic) considered
her pov/erful and pat;si jnr te, :iss ..allic seemed hysterical
and unconvincing to nu ny observers. Put ton Cook wrote that
she failed "to display the exaltation of poetic temper.' .ment
of the character", and was "somewhat torpid" v ith "intervale
of vociferation 11 :
...an actress competent to apnerr as Cleopatra
could aardly perhaps bo I'ound in the -nreceiit
condition of the stage.^
ii. tfrc Lcn:"try's St.:ice Cnroer.
Born in 1^52, Emily Charlotte Lr.-jagtry was by her o-..n accouat
"launched on a career of pleasurable striving after the un-

339
attainable* in 1661 tgr Henrietta Modoon, .-n ctreee of eomo
reputation and wife of Henry Uibouchor*. 6 Her first appeexance
on the professional ato^e wio as Kate Harden etle at the Haynarfeet
in December t and other rolee followed. Puach expreeeed the
refuoal of many critice to take Mre Langtry ooriouely in on
account of Her Lady Hacbeth* "Anticipatory of the notice which
would probably appear in a Morning Paper" - the actreas
combined the dieparate talents of Kate Vou

340
greeted with a chorus of catcalls and hisses, even if they
escaped an ovation of orange peel", but Mrs Langtry and a few
others we, e c aisciontious and effective:
Her performance was unequal - first, because she
was nervous; next, because she has not learned
the art or concealing the _ rtfulness with which
she has been trained and drilled; and finally
because she was wretchedly su-rnortec).
(The Illustrated London Hows, 30 September
———————————————— 1882)
Sala considered her dress as Ganymede, "a straight-cut doublet,,
with cl?uet-coloured hose, and a cloak belted behind her",
simple and effective. In The Academy Frederick Wedmore pointed
out that in recent years there had been no debutante of equal
promise, "and few representatives of Rosalind v.ith less to
unlearn" (30 September 1882), The critic f .OKI V nity Pair
observed a fault in Mrs Langtry»s technique which raay have
been connected with her popularity as a subject for painters:
It is rll very well to fall into a prnccful pose
tlurin the delivery of a certain pr.srr^e, but the
Cii'iiculty Irs Langtry has not yet mastered is
that of passing from one pose or attitude to
another without giving the sense of a "gap" between
the two gestures.
(30 September 1882)
Punch in 1885 ^a.vc one of the least sympathetic accounts of
Lillie Lfaag try's failings: her voice crotmed at the end of
each sentence, her gestures were "feeble and narrow", she
did not move decisively, she was self-conscious and lacked
energy and her attraction lay "in a Greining iinor- nee of all
method, rlan and purpose" (31 J< nuary ir.85). '/illiam Archer,
in an article entitled "The Fa hion Play" : u r

341
now jr orij-irvil t it. oottin - we a, it ii not oaey oo ditieovorj
V.t .couory ue» d by H re end Kcrr.ml in 1885 ray Ivvc survived.
LVen if tho sets thoraoo'v :-• '.era

34;
Mrs Langtry again engaged Wingfield, and began prep rations
for a spectacular production in the ''^tunn.
Tho Princess's Theatre, which ! Trc Langtry took for a
production far too grand to fit on the stare of the St. James's,
h, d boon in the lianas of a syndicate since 18^7. Barrett,
when h© left on an A f erican tour to -iay off his debts, had
sub-let the theatre in 1886 to Charl-.s Hawtrey and, later
Charles ,'ar.ior. Grace Hawthorne, an American actress, took
it over in the naue of The Princess's Theatre Syndicate In
July I.'. 1 -? and c^oyod until ;:oy 1300. In the season May 1888-
IH y 1839 she had presented Barrett and his corcoany, ojid her
last production had been Buchannn's Tlioodora (after Sardou)
under the direction of ..H.Vernon, The theatre v;hich had
*
opened v/ith Booth's Homlet in 1B80, and had served for v.ilcon
Barrett »s in 1884, had a stage similar in its dimensions to
the Lyceum's: a proscenium opening thirty- five foot hi ;h and
thirty v.'iue, and a depth frora curtain-line to I; C T : . rll of
forty feet, six inclioc. The Lyccira str .: o was forty-one foot
deep (v;it:i a ^.'.ocl: civin^ an addition: 1 depth of twenty-t'iroe
ft.et), with a proccenium opening thirty-tv/o feet ton inches
high c'jfiti t^.ir^y-cix feet ci:c inches v/ic^e . Tr.is stride was vvoILadapt,
d to the processions anc"! elaborate cot^l.:.- - c clcvicod by
iii. The Porr
At ei.-Jit o'clock on 1° /ovc-r.br-r 1800 tae curt: in rose on tae
Atriua of Gaeoar's houuo in Rome. 'I'he fo^rt ' scene ;f ohcJrcspeare's
play, in which Qctnviuc and Lopidus di.^cuoc Ai.tjny'c
miabclL-.viour, v;ac cubstitated for I.I. '2-ic tivont.;-^i:;ht linos
omittee Troa the text included thor/e in v;li:.oli Caer..: r cxpi-'. ^GOS
his o.i; ,i-a:-fc at /uitoviy'i; betrayal of flonr-Ji c'i nity ("...to r it/
And izeep the turn of ti ^plin.- v:ith a c-ltvc") an

ulars or Antony's jortjonality. The me^ciiror's . c count of
Menecrates cui-J Sflenas, famous pirates, and. the picture; que
detail of "lit ony *s if vinj urunk "the otale of horses and the
gilded puddle" .verc u^it-oec, although both ha-1 been retained
in Cnlvert'a version in I. 66"°.
This scene, aonarently plrycd before a cloth, wac
followed by I.I in its entirety, 1.2 (lacking 1-°G anti twentysix
other lines) and 1.3. The conversation between Chnnian,
an.!.' n, Alexas, Iras and the Soothsayer (1,2.1-73) was removed
and tho moot im-ortant of the oUior onisaions wets Antony's
fin; 1 speech in 1.3. Thus Cleopatra, v/ho had arrived by barce
at tiic befinninf; of the composite scene, was . -iven the curtain
line, and trie concision became a ";dcture"s
your nv;orrl
.-it laurel victory, and smooth r^uccecs
Be strc'.vetL before your fc-ctl
(I*3»Q:J-101)
Crlvert, ho played Antony in his ov.n revivt-1, aot only
retained ntony's lines, "Let ue -o. Come...", bot added fouranu-a-half
nevi oiii'S, froiJ IV. i~-.t
iy ni^htirirale, t'L.y Jiraic . Truvi 'eters,
itl": br°aen c!in, bl st you the city's o. r.
r.iin ;le ;-;it'- v our rattling tambourines
heaven and earth • y ctrike their i-ounclc to; .ether,
udin" our ;nn>ro. ch.
(IV.8.3:3-eat-)
rs L; 11 try Ice.ot tiie ; tro:a,ij effects to licroelf «
rchor noted tlirt "I am icl. and aullon (13) w. s rj-ooken
"to L-^rcelf . ..in "11 .^oriousnesc", and thrt "Jo Antony loves"
and "3o i'ulvia" to.Lt" me" (73 and 75) .--ore ...po::on .vit^oui
"care ;.tic bitterness". Cleopatrr, ±n this interpretation,
did not rail at AjrSony, and Oocil ".n-rr< ; in H.IO a'lioi'trp (::. .
.iV (December I'JDO) ^ ; '7- r') cjug/ rented that " ;rr; L n. • trj- co;;l;l
act only t:io cxtro ;:io .a? cis: vviun die v/au not "1 n;Mid or pettich",
he wrote, "ahe plr,.yed v.it-! un 'if ci di-i^'' force", aJK'i he v;ont
on to reflect thut the If-iCl: of ,';ubtl^ty wac , n arruaont for
"the value of on cr rly and li ; c-1 ^nc; tr inin^". In 2L'.-__?^Ll
T^rU__r .cott eorvlrinor that chc lacked "'corax.nd. . .ou-. only
presence. ..voice sufficiently pov orful to coru-onc 4 " aijc'. "passion
with v.hiea. to subjugate" (19 f;ovember). Co :;hl'-n i^paecrev' by

344
virtue of his voice more than by any cubtle ^rc.sp of ncrronalxty.
The Illustrntod Sporting and Drnr.uitic Wews (27 December)
n is rded the opinion t/v.i.t the severe mutil tion of his part,
and itele .not cee thc'i, : he
.vor.It":""^. rrj L' n/jbry ret. ineo t:ie ir -u:v i't .vitu Cri z" :. r n
r:bout Co.Coar nnc" the t'-iro-tn of phy^icrl violence v-hich
C.-'lv^i't hr-d c .cit--ed, rm; rr er- h^-r Ol^o.^, t'rr ^ni-p r.^rrr,Isli
ary oi-' the chci-c t;er»r oeli."hi in iipi- pro-'i: eviifcy - rcher
reutrt;eo »;.:'ii r.le i-e^iE inrc'i "o.^ - ::• -..^aicu"'--r s^ on- o:? iu-r
ov.ii obclickc" o-i the "-jenit--^: 1. I cer. - to ID Ji ^ae ori-H-",
I I 1
e:ic: feilcd to rue; cut th-.'t the '.-/r.r the •-, re; toLt or > )ri._::>..-t Ice
Jo^ci'h i;.ar.i:ci', tlio r c f e.c-.x li.tor, rec:llo-. Iu. r a^ : o;,t

Illust ation 1? Following
Charles Coghlan and Mrs Langtry
as Antony and Cleopatra.

proper person - one almost expected her to ask those around
h:r to ; it down and trko tea" 14 .
Act Two be;,-in .ith oln Ice ope re's II.2, r:et in "Rome, an
open pl'ce". The ecene be^on ith Lepidus' req ;cct tli t riiobarbus
entreat his ca^trin "to so-'t and gentle speech" - the
reply v;-,s abbreviated to "I shrll entreat him/ To answer lil:e
Mi self: Here cones/ The noble Antony". (3b-4a; 13b-14a). The
onisLion of the lines between these tv;o statements renoved
another passage in which Antony's a ture is related to a
broader attitude to huravn affnirc. Lepidus in the origin; 1 !
uuggests that riuch a meeting ic not fit occasion for "';;rivate
stoma chine":
nob; • rbus: i.very tine
orves for the natter th.:t ic then born in't*
IIP; But small to greater matters mu:.t ;iv;' \vry
ypjj rbi-u,; i.ot if tiie small co:.iO riri
^.Q_:;L ao: To or speech is ",••.&....ion:
. •'.i j: 01- y you, :tir no embers u;o. Here cones
'.The noble ntony.
(9-14)
'.,;hio cut further \veai:ens the play's presentation of the debate
between decorum and inclin tix..
The ot>ior notable onission i:a t:.ic OCGIIO came in the
converr; tion of Enob;.rbus ..it . oeceiias and V Ti'opa v^hich
follows the b£ r r;e speech. Bot'a Culvert o..n

346
her heart" (III.2.47-50), as Oct. via v/aiL-pers to Caesar, was
followed by the continurtion of II.3 '. ith their go anights.
Before reverting to the text of tie earlier scene Ci Ivert, in
a ^ iniU r arrr.rv cmcnt, included Enobarbus 1 "Will Caesar weep?
>n
1
and Agrippa'a answer, "He has a cloud in*s fcce", and Caesar's
spoken answer to the unheard query of Octcvin. Both versions
proceeded ..ith the Soothsayer's .-monitions to Antony, but
ordtted most of the ganing inr, es - more general observations
on the conduct of life, c.- Ivert included Antony's exit-lines
and the short ccene, II,4, which follows. The Captious Critic,
in The_ Illuotrated opqrting c.nd ^ranatic Ilcvvc, recreated the
curtailment of Qctavia's pr rt, and felt that che would have
provided an important contrast »,ith Clco^rtra* In Iho LV-ily
•' raphic Prances Ivor's performance of the role was described
as "the one complete success of the evening" (20 November 1890),
but The. Stage (3lender.-eC, her as "a colourless cli.r;/cter, prettily
and sympathetically plrycd", and found no n irtic tlar Ei:Tiificance
in I'.or.
The concluding scene of t:io act -.vas a conflation of two
Alexandri n scenes, II.5 and 1. I.3» located in Joseph !!(;:r/:cr«L>
set of "A H; 11 in Cleo :xtrr.*s °;.lrce n . LiV:o the exterior
designed by iir.ce Snici, this nppCL-rs to hove taken up the
full depth of the t . c. Ml the ccenes between the two liere
oi-j-yioyed were o^it-fced: 11*6 (Pornpey), II.7 (the calley scene)
lil.l (Ventidius) and tliocc pi rts of III«2 which had not rlrc•: dy
been used.
After the oniscdon of the reference to bil3-irrcls aacl, ;;a
rai-yht oal.y be expected, '"nrcli; n's shortcomin^o, t...e new cceno
viro-vre.'.ced witi'iout further ..'Itor'.ition to the nor.r.,enrer f s
delivery of his ne\vs that \ntony ic married to Get -.vie. The
quibble "For v;li t good turn? - For the beet turn i f bh» ,;cd"
v/as cut, but Cloo •• tra ut orod a throat ••.vhich C: .Ivert hr C
rejected as too Luiui^iiii'ied for a ro ,"•! E-; yiti; 11:
Thou oh'^lt be ./hipper"1 -.ith wire, and Gtov;ecl i\i hri.ie,
jin rtin in lii- 'r'.ing .ickle.
(C5f.)
Cleopttra's 1 tor as. u.'Q nce tiv t she '."ill not bite the :.ies:--
eri'-er (II.5.'-0) \r\a dir.c, r^led. 2ho reception of the MO. cen ; or
v/;.'D one of re Lan.-try'c bc:.t ov'.: e c^s - c notice in The or lin.;;

Illust:ation 18
Mrs Langtry as Cleopatra
Following p

J47
Post described it fully:
Her method nay com.vre < ith tlu't of Kc dome
Bernhardt. Jhe latter actress crushes, so
to speak, into the ;u;.t the bearer of
ill news, aru 1 stamps unon the oro-trate form
in a lar'jmer recalling the treatment of lago
by oi nor oolvini as Otiiello; and less imperious,
but not less effective, is the an^er
of the latest Cleopatra. She holds in her
hcnd the rich circlet which she had intended
to ,-ive him as the price >f his intelligence,
and she strike;:; nin again and ape in -with the
jewels, . hile he falls ii. terror at her feet.
(19 No/ember 1890)
This is i:i oni me, but no substitute for "she hales him up
and down". The ccone continaecl -.vith the ne^en :er's return
(III.3). - rclicr found in this intornvet- tion '-'too :::ueh of
tiie spoilt child, too little of the pasci -.11:1 i-.e \von:^n', and
the reviewer in The 'r tur-''-'y j-:cvi : . w t v/ho admired ulie !'Ctress*s
oov.-ers of "facir,l ox r^o;- ion" in tiie pcrformanco, v;rs .-;i:.—
appointed by her reaction to the m: rrir go, cu.^ -erting that
Cleo v.tra "'..ould hf.vc been frr nore i':irious"«
•li.'i:o peare's 111*4 and III.5 v.ero omitted, and t/.ic first
scene of ..re I». n 'try's third r.ct begon, li':.-: Calvcrt's, ith
Oaet-'i-'s cesc i tion of Antony's "im.olence" and the or^lv;/.!
in ..or.ie of ;Jct.- via (111*6) - the setting v;, s or:ce : • i i -fio
Atrium of Oncr;cr*s hou:e. ^ho.keanc^re ures Ct-oc r as a purveyor
of information in thir, r cene, but £lvcs fair:, a touch of pcrjo •-
r.lity in the reception of his cicter. The convent i --nnlly
",'o'.:.'!n" frith in desti >y shovm in iilc orfr, of cohort ("let
determined things to r'cctiny/ Hold xib; v/ailocl :hoir nay")
reveals a decree of liy.-ocri- ,y: ho l:nowc th-.t Fortune ic lil:e
a v;onrm and mr.y be wooocl, r^nc1 hr.'.s cvnic^lly u.rcc' ''ctc:vir to
bind Antony's li; ndc. The little individuality ivrn to Caor;pr
in these v/orr's v/cr: forfeited by "rs ' n ; ir:;, for chc c^ t.ic
four lines from 81b to °5 .
ihe cec^nd rc^-nc of the act V.T.S conror'ccl of III.10 and
III.12, o it ting s:-

343
of the preparations for the battle of Actium. Instead, the
play moved to "The Promontory of Actium, near Antony's Camp"
(;n anted by Perkins). Enobarbus ana Scarus discussed the
disastrous flight of Cleopatra's ship, some sixteen lines
were cut, and Canidius was dispensed v/ith altogether. After
the exit of Enobarbus and Scarus, the scene changed to smother
part of the "open country". Oreear met Antony's ambassador,
.-/ho was not the schoolmaster but Uros, md dispatched Thidias
to Cleopatra. The third scene (III.11 and III.13) was set in
Cleo7iatra*s palace - Barker's interior again - and included
Antony's inquiry as to .vhetaer the anbassatfor he.d returned
and, by transposition of the intervening ill.12, Eros* arriv 1.
cnolnrbus and Cleopatra spoke t.ie fir. t twelve lines of III.13
("vvhat shall we do, Enobarbus?") while Antony and Eros conferred.
This arrangement corresponded with that by Calvert,
although he had made more cuts within the scenes, omitting,
for example, Antony's i/neech to Thidirs , fter the whipping
(111.13.134-152). Calvart h:..d retained the substance of the
preparations for Actium in 11,1, but had alco altered the
identity of the cnibc'c >cfior from Antony. In thir: alteration
Eros is allowed to oay:
I was of late as petty to his ends
AG is the '.lorn dew on the myrtle leaf
TO ills fT'-Mld GOO.
(III.12.7-9)
In his mouth this was the mannerism of a courtier - Eros
; .ic.ny annenrruices earlier in the ">ls'y would, have sugj. onted
tii: t he vv-s a person of aoine import once in Alexandrir. In
Shakespeare's text the' s?cho- x lan.ster's insignificance is
;;-enuine - he has never been seen until now - and hir; evocation
of the reduction in Antony's circumstances Iv.'.s considerable
force and beauty. Mrs Lcn£try cut little fro::: tliio sequence
of scenes, alt..,oa/;li che did not or it Antony to speculate
about Cleopatra's "hot'.or nours" (III.13.118ff.) Archer
complained that she delivered "It'c r-y birti.v .-y" v.ithout
conviction and v/ithout ei'iect, v.hon she siioj-lo nave t.'kon tne
; tage and rushed into Antony's arms. 2he scene ended ith
.,n>barbus, left alone on the st;-ge, resolving to leive ME

There now followed, as a separate episode between the
third and fourth acts, the "Alexandrian Festival: an Allegoricr.l
Interlude representing the Conflict betv/cen i.y and Ni (roial recovery and cttt . :^.Q_^Z-JC; described
as "a purely convention 1 ballet which mi : lit r»Y>roy;riately
be transferred to the st; ,ce 01" the Alharabra" - it was at thai;
theatre that D*Auban v;as employed as ballet- r;tor. The scene
did not c ntribute :.iucii to the porti-syal of the orot£.f;ciiist *
:,ct^rc - uj-Mth cont:ii erod. their appe r.- Mice f -r from
"rrand, ir.nocinc, or Q ;"'like M . Scott described t'-cm, "elov; ted
on r> throne at tlic banc.u^o, surroundcc b; GC. rlet oolci- ry,
v/hilst their finucernent consisted of rtrmciiv; nymphs in f.'-uzy
materi In". In addition to the nymphs there v/er-e, accordiiir;
to Tr/.o xjL.iG:;-, a few "svnrthy slaves", and \2\ic 3ta ;gc noted
the presence of rn ivf:^';;ti^ii ruvi; ;y - E;G a m c^.c^o rnori, rnthor
thr.n a guert.
The prepr,r;>ti::>ii of tiiis ^i^r^tuitous spectacle took cone
time. On the fircjt ni"'ht ti:.e fourth c=ct be^fn . ;it^ a jcene
Let iu "O^en Country", ap/nroritly made up fro.n parts of IV. 7
and IV. 8, which de;>l vith the aftcrr-ath of bottle. This scene
appenrec 1 on the onrly copies of the program e, but is nisi ivrin
the souvenir edition of the tejct - It sot no that .in^field
economised by cuttin; dov.n tiie business of the pl;~:/ so as to
retain the expensively ^ronucoc cnrc-G^cle of tlio "Tria'~in:r 1
Kece^tion of Antony and Cleoor.tra" which formed t ;he second
-cene of his fourth f.ct. Archer, on n. secone vit.it to the
pro- notion, com^lrdneO :
...whole scenes... iv.cl di^--:perrec e± ^ce the :tir-:;t
ni;.;at, v.hereac I did not ::iss a oi/._le i:uoer or a
shrea of costu, .e.
(3 oc ember 1890)
Without these short scenes t' c ..hole :ir :oce of the tiiunph

35 J
was left to the audience's powers of deduction. The rcru ining
text consisted of some twenty lines, br^inninp with Cl< o_
patra's "Lord of Lords" (IV.8.16b), and The stage observed:
The unfolding of this r± • ntic set actually occupies
more time than the few words that re uttered by
the characters previous to its re ov 1,
The Caotious Critic had enjoyed the allofori a ballet, but
the necond ballet, introduced into this scene, seemed too
much of a good, t inr;-.
iTon this point, Mrs L, .nrt.y's version moved to a close
with indecent hrc'te. Enobarbus wr.s al .owed a brief ocene of
remorse, transposed from IV.6 (11-39), in which he declared
his intention to seek some -xLrce in v;hieh to die. He wan seen
no more. Then c.-*£»o a scene composed of IV,12, bef;inninr v/ith
Antony's angry entrance ("All is lost", line 9) and -irocoeO.i-ig
to IV, 14, when he was borne off-sta fr;e by the ^u; rd. Only
twelve lines were niitteo from these t ree short scenes of
t :e original, the nost notable omission be ng Bercetus 1
desertion of Antony. The lines,
Wy quo on rui

351
Dolabella's intcrv-.cw \ ith the quc. n was cut, despite its
re :dniscence of Antony as a titanic and brilli.-nt fi ure
("His legs bestrid the oconn, his reared rro/ Crested the
world"). Cleopatra received Caesar in

352
unable to deny some power in Mrs L mgtry's acting of the
final a qaonce. She ,:rve "excellent expre;.t.ion" to many
pasties, notably the "inco-i arable", "I am acain for Cyc'.'nur/
To meet ;,iark Antony". n e felt that "t-iio quiet acuity of
despair" became the actress ..oil. The stage w, s relieved to
note that Mrt- :,iagt_-y did not seek to emulate *-.rah Bernhardt*;
use of a live asp.
The published ,!Ctin^ edition ends v.-ith Cieoiatra's "As
sweet as balm, as soft as fir, as tontlo - /O Antony!" (309f.)
The programmes indicate two t bleaux for the find act,
•istinguishing t'io.n as evening and morning in the interior
of the jionuinent, and it is pos ible tivit tVie tabs were lowered
after the deota of Cleoontra, and raised a^.-'in to chov/ CaeL-rr,
silent uoon a str^e in Oxford street. ri.'hore is no indication
of any such arron. >':\ent in the text - if 0-:C3 ir did intrude
upon the early perform noes, he u-:y 1-u've been dir. i:./ cd cis
.'.nti-climatic later in the run, iao rir^t-ni^.at nerforrnance
la^tc", over xoar hours*
Some of the r:-viev/ers v;e . -e exasperated by the length of
the evening. The Tineo,in a brief notice published the following
day, commented:
Of a performance v;hich 1-cts from ei-ht o'cl >ck
iii the evening till c, qort, in the iTovcnber 26 is ue of .\io i /orId,
be-: .an:
:irs L-.in "try r 3 careful and costly rovivl of
Antony and C c oor.tra reduced \y brain, in t.io
co a'ce of the focir cuw2 a qu.-.'rter hoarc it
lasted on the firi.t nirjit," to the conc'ition
of a haleidoGCOpe - a whirl oi cliiftiiv; li,.:its
zxiC colours, -,-ith hero anri triere a ourple patch
of yiialcespearean verce connin-.liaf in the vortex.
laniaiily he re.'T.i r>.;cd th..t :.lthough bcott left the theatre "well
on for h?;.lf-:, ;..t-tv;elve t! , a loarthy notice occavjied t-..o-tlaro^
of a coin.-n in the morning e iti 11 oJ^ -.-•': /nily IelGr;r;.ph.
I ..c-vitt.bl./, aDst revicv;ors contrr.Gtcc"1 . t.-ie ian.d q i: cies
of the r:cting ;.;ith the el£'b r- tion of olio decor. Tr'Ath, in a

notice headed "Cleopatra Lilyised", arruod that ^in-field
had been "merciful*1 to the "defects and shortcomings of the
company", and concealed them with rcenery. At the other
extreme of the critical ran^e was The otr^c which < eve on
uiiusa/.lly commendatory account of the net in/ , but took
.vin-fi^ld severely to task for the prolong ion of the evening:
Mr Lewis Win/-field seems to have had a free
hand in adorning tlie plcy upon archaeological
principles, and, fired by the zeal of sn enthusiast,
he has not made sufficient allowance for
the com-..: ritively modest cwpetite of the orCir* ry
pi ay fo or.
'•line acting wac 7:in cncr. •! ruoz'c ti/n co.:j.i.vnr"..\.ble". The Icily
'.Lclc^z'c.'.pli u Voice b,v Clcnuit ^cott ^raises tiie effioion.cy of
the ete.£'e-n:--.i. ^raei'it ("I'ae v;h Ic tliinff went like n machine")
but concluded that "t.ic . uccecc of tiic evening v/ac c;->cct-~,culrr,
not i..r;- :'-tic f' ciicl t;::, t tac "lov-r of £rocc ctin,: v/oiuLfi be
cIi&G;jpoiiit':f' 1.. 1^ liio Illustrated, i.jjij^on ; r ,\vs column, ocott
described tr.e unsuitability of rr; ...• a (^."^ry for tie part, and
the deficiencies of her moke—up:
•he charm of Mrs V u "try's no tare is iu itc
fjontlenesfi, ite softness^ ite rdlurinc .-race.
oho ;ro'«7 under the ,y~trees of Inland, not
uncl 3r tic loti'.fj-bl oosoms of tixe ;7iie. Her
p.'iycici..! i^iTts and tr^.inin^ -..-ill not r c':. it
of Iior reclici:: Cloo xitra, r.o she mt^es i?r
i« vdld-eyed criiit ins toed of a 'MM cion^te
r,::.i-i: 1. Conceive c. Clco^rtre v.it:: eyes of
blue cui'J li: ir of ;.n Erirlioh r^.nci rait-br .-,/n liue,
curl a £ entle countenance ?_•.;.£ milcl ex^rescion,
beo iiog v/iLtfully . t Iicr Mitony, and -cre;:lDlinLo:
in his presence!
(22 Hove ;,or 1890)
'-iacreac!y r.nd Phelpc, '10 aci^otl, diC not need spectacle, but
i.,r,-:. Lr-'iv'try, like Charles -"can, Chct'-erton r.nd Culvert,
"wanted the ; how becau:;e t:icy hfic no vury ro • rk-. ble ootiiif
to put in front of t:ie nictures". It v/as doubly unf .ir-Gi^nte,
t:G;,, th? t the Gloosa'ro ? iiould not even lo .>]: ri 'it. ^>cher
coraplrined that the octrem's cor'tuaes v.'cre "j-rvasy, ^irlir;!).
and innocent of tr ins":
Correct they :::; y be, be--utii'ul fiey rre; but
•jucy It.c.:: re rr,-~:.lity.
The costir:;iiic of the Oueen of i-'-_'y?t v/r.s lrcl:in^ in rlr^.r.1. xic
. : iro .riateness however "correct" it nirht be - was this mi

oversight of \vin,cfield's, or did his uutliority extend no
further than i^ie setting and the minor character:'? The Captious
Critic remarked thn.t the excel ent or/;'ini... tion of the crow:a
and the grand efiects should hnve been extended to the princi-'.
lr:', v/ho "should stand and riove as though they felt the
force of it 0 . .,< Ikley, ;,ho t^encirLbed his dominant impression
as 'one of weakness, eked out by noise and polychromatic
pageantry", complained that inrfielC had "only half the
courage of his opinions" and "should U; vo wielded the scissors
r.t; freely as the lailoidoscope". The rcvivr.l was too long for
a satisfying c .ectacle, and too op-ctnculrr for a cox1 performance
of thu -lay ,
JI.IG uu'.;:.n es'li jufo_> ;.:ent on *.rrj Lon^try wan thr.t rhe v.-ns
no nore than a Iry-fi.iure in tao ^'..-cr.nt, ("pret ciet.t vhc-r.
she r^ac f-ute", nccoiv'iinp: to The bta.:.o). In Truth die : ir-.p-rity
bct-./cen actress rjid c.-^rccter v/a,o put ixi terwr: e-, jn leas
polite:
a ic a ',••;•:'. n t a:icl not n '"u:.; y* She i.:,
n t rcxnd creature, not n pretty .-.'.ru teur trj-ing
to set.
Clonent Scott vonlc 1. • clrit no nore than t . t "rn L n/;-try
would "phoTorrrph cv' -.irrbly 1* cc» the "centre of iriiu:::or; ble
lovc-ly pictures", aric r'lio S">. L:X' ".vrote t'rir-t she v/rs 'colOly
stfitue :OUG, j-rrceful in outline, beautiful to look ir^ort,
but anhin^ little or no £.--• ^cal to the :cr;sicnrj". ':;-.it it is
doubtful v/aot/ior r.ny wtron^-^r ir-v-^cc- ion -..oulc li,-;ve boon
•veleome. Tho rr>vicvT-, of the ""ri' i.oo3- 'a 'roc'iotijii ii.jlude
a g-ood dec! of pious hoi'i'-,'v-J-lnr-: over the excesses- of ;.p.r;?h
Bernh:-rrt, v:ho hnd i-l'yocl Clcop'ttrp in a l"y "by .••.•ro.ou and
?.1orc-ru on ?3 OctoVr t tV-e Porte St. ?'. rtin. The --Ir.y,
Cleona-bre. is not a d-.r^c-. translation of iili^kesp'.- re'c-,
alt ou-;h it n^es rar.viy --^.s^a.: es a/>' : individual lines. I"; was
not one of , crah ir^t»s bo; t ro os, but it w-j5 stronger :ieat
til- n : >rc A^ n try's nril i'' 1 rnylinh heroine. "illi.'x\ -"inter
fouiif' 1 it uni^'pr-'bly dir:;:^-ti-«C - (Lnn i^eal of ^oniaiiio -c1.
i.hich do-rac'es it to !;he level of tho ':i or nnc! t :'io C-JG" -
and eoiitrau-tod ;--rrtou'c v.i" : i .^ikcsrc^re'e queen:
....there is P trorondouP -jiin 1 onnetite; but
also t ere -re onlenuicl. COM in-r;led qur.Iities of
h : i-t, dad anc' in;;.'.ginr tion. Clict

355
not seek to concentrate attention fji^nly unon
an erotic fool, he magnified his ori in, 1 and
i-iv-sted it v.lth a 'lory th t in t:.ctu-al life it
never ooocerrjefl.
Sarch Bor:iii;,rdt f 3 T>or:;:V>rmanoe, by distinct contract, was
"effrontery" and depravity, r-.nrinklod over with r;ev/r,awc",
a feet which Winter attributed not merely to the ccorr.ved
o.'^,.;r.., but to the actress's lu bitual "metallic insincerity
of f cling blended ,ith '-in.ocharine monotony of oxr.re^ion".
Pron a n:ja v/h.j thought Ada ,r.h;ji a -uocc-sful : ?osalind because
she was in fc\ctnr;l personality i^ntie-l -vit.ii the fictional
charge',>or, this is not surpricin/r .
.TO ouitrble representative of Cleopatra p.rnesrcd in
London before the :v-•'c till ^±tturbo0
by the t.' blop.u c'.irtai-is v.iiich v/ero lovvered between the :..cc-neo
(10 July !• 37). Archer felt tho.t Calvert bed. u-CM-bcr, to
Irvin^'L. i'.uluoncc, sacrificing ..Iialnes-oeLire to ;..p?ct.-de and
incidental nu-..»ic. The production '.•-•e exce^rsivcly o -cratic,
and at tir;ier. rcniiiiiocent of . i. a:
..ven Cloooatra'c "bucinecs" v/.-.-o tincd to the
rr/Uoic, caid one ,,0 au so, rccly hr.vo fcceu
inclined to ch^.nt iior vorc-.:., had broken out into
a .^ocit, tive and ria".

356
The actress should take for granted the come y of the part,
which she had overplayed, and "concentrate her thoughts on the
dignity, the fascination - in a word, the poetry of fie
character" 9 . The least successful exponent of the role was
,:rs Benson, ,,ho played it , t the Lyceum in rarch 1900, during
the seventh week of Benson's ; o. cjori. Prank Bencon was Antony,
Oscar Asche Pompey, Lyall Swete Enobarbus, Go >rye t/ci- the
Clown and Lily Brayton Ir; s. The play v; s iven in four acts
and thirteen scenes (including the Galley), and needed twentyfive
irdnuteo of intervals. Jrc Benson was not very successful -
Bcerbolu.! re.: i\;ed that "the shadow of an automaton would have
been more welcome"
?0
. The Illustrated London News felt that
"mere languorous poses and deliberate intoning of Speeches"
were not r.n adequate substitute for "real abandon"t
Truth to tell, there is only one -ossible
Cl'-o-iatra i*j the theatric.",! v/orld - Sarah
•crnhr.r^t. For her it is easy to compress
the feline ferocity, the Oriental devilry,
the feverish vari->tions of mood, thet express
"the serpent of old Rile"*
(7 April 1900)
Antony and Cleopatra ran from 13 November 190 to T'3
February 1891, v/iien Co hlan*s comedy, r,:v: ! y :'.••. r tor, opened*
jJlii;. was not particularly successful, and v/as succeeded by
Young's Lineo. r"rey, another i'. iiurc v/hich L,P.Austin in Tlie
Illustrated London .r)_c\"js described rs "five rortrl acts a,.:c
j'ive costumes for rs £.;-nrtry" (IP A ril 1891)* Meanwhile
both n-inci^als v/oi/e in le/al difficulties. Corhlan vvre
declarer' b.-•nl-tn.nt in February, with unsecured debts amounting
to t'rree thousand, one hundred and t reive pounds, four shillings
and two pence. In court he revealed thrt he was living in
furni^hcc: rccoiaodation in Picc.^dill'Knu^^ocr thirty-one) ot a
rent of four pounds -,vec^ly, and thciu his r.rlr.ry fron re
Langtry was fifty pounds a nirht, v;it!: a pL.yn.--it of tv/o
hundred pounds to cov-r hio trnvelliric expenses from 'ev; York,
and an a- diti »ruil tv.o hundred in _\ spect oi his ^1 ,/» In Hew
York he had been accuctoned to receive seventy po' .uic'.s r. woe':.
ost of the debts were rccoo/vfcs unpaid on his doo; rL'ure for
the Unitec 1 -t :tesin irP-7 (The Pall lAall it-sc-t-G, IP febr^i ry
1891/. «t r tine '.hen Ellen Terry w^s c z\:v;iiv- a tonrinf taltry

of two hundred pounds a week, and a lee din" actor in the
Lyceum company could expect thirty, it is not surprising
to learn that lira Langtry ran short of funds before Antony
and Clco-v.tra opened, and was obliged (she 1 rfcer claimed)
t-> borrow from the H-vfchac ilds" 1 .
In November IHjO the ;ctresc was being sued by Robert
Bucnanan, veteran quarreller, for failure to pay the c. cond
half of a fee agreed as comii.i;. ci:->r\ for a play, La• ny: ^nlilce Tree, Irving, or, Inter, .-oix;o 'tlcx- ri'cr,
she l^ciceo rn eatabii, li;ncnt that co a«'l absorb m.rraccer sf jJ.
ventures. To ; one hostile critics che v/ac ri.oly a pretty
v/o~an trrt'inf on a aandon social interest in art ana the
stage - ;jn interest which h;xl, it v/ae al ?.e;,nd, be. tin to fa-Je.
In fjra-i;li the cpirit of s-itr o'.i.. - -hich hr.

"Isn't she Itoyall" "Isn't she
" sn't she an eastern DreainJ" They knew, no^r
things, that they were t;,li;ing r.rrc'ut aoi::^cn^c.
The last major Shakespeare production :?t thePri,ice';c's seemed
a fulfilment of the values and the preferences of c, movement
'.

3:>9

360
'illir.i Poel's collection of e:,says, .Shakespeare in the Thc
appeared in 1913* The productions which served rs illustrations
to his r 'unent ranged Tro i Irving's Hernia!; (an article first
printed in The Era in 1881) to the Kin/-; Lo.-.r of Beerbolra Tree
(1909). Poel dismissed, vithout qualification, the method
of producing Shakespeare to which ,.:.W..Goc)y/in and Lev/is i. *..-•-
field had contributed, and the renunciation is still accepted:
Sivkcc^eare wrote ith consummate art to show
the tide of human afYairr, its flow and ebb,
and his constructive plan is oarticul; rly
unsmited to tuo act-dron. Upon one of Jhako: -
poare's plays the curtain falls like the knife
of a Tuillotine, and the ciYeet ic similar to
ending a piece of rau;:ic abruptly at its highest
note, singly for the sake of creating some ot Tiling
impression..,
The productions of the eight een-eighties which h;»ve been
discussed in this thesis offer convincing evidence of the
justice of Poel's contention - it n i .-lit be argued thot their
only interest lies in their hr

3ol
sociulisers in p; int. Indeed, it is poooible to re-c.rd the
entire rtistic movement called Aestheticism as a whim of a
newly-educated leisured class, dominated by well-informed
society hootessee. The classic formulation of this view of
the •eighties is that of Chesterton, who populates, in
The Victorian Age in Literature, a tine "rourhly sonev/here
about 1880" when the "two (rreat positive enthusiasms of
,/eatern Europe", Chri.ti nity and the French Revolution, had
"ex;i .usted each other" . He proposes lc'70 as the t lining
point of the century in another pr rt of his ee. i y, but is
certain about the nature, ii" not the ur- tion of the r; criod:
The ye:. rs that f ollov/cd on tii^t double dic>illur
ionment were like one lon^ afternoon
in a rich houee on a rainy day. It was not
merely tlirt everybody believed tii; t nothing
would ha;->r«en; it V.TB also that everybody believed
that .'..nyVuing ho,ppeiiing v;y.L even duller
tiir.n notain.^ iiappo
In this "stt-le atmoc,jx ore" a few "flickers of the old ..-/inburniun
flaine" survived. To Chesterton, the lonf; afternoon
conveyed a lesson as indirect as the r.:orr:l r.i jiificance of
Fntixer -:>rov^n*3 crir;in, .1 iavesti • tions:
...t- is tir.ie .if: produce m interreTiUKi iJ art
th;?t Iv d a truth of itfj o-.,ii; though tii^.t truth
was nerr to being only a consistent -lie..
This paradoxical "truth" le CD G.'iesterton to Wilde, to whom
v/uc entrusted the "decadent idea", '..iiich in "loss dexterous
hi,nds" went entirely to pieces and v hich "nobouy li's troubled
to pici: iro" . 'Jliesterton's description of Ke ford Park, under
the disguise of .»o.ffron r;-arlr, at the bc^i.jiiine of 'Jho. :'ixi /ho
ac -JUar^... .y (1908) oi-crs r: .iuil. r view in li/ liter vein:
It he .a boon the outb^.r;,1; of a nyecalativo
builcer, f intly tinned ;.it'a rrt, '.ho colled
its arcrdtccture '.orioti • .r-r- Elizabet-va-i and
so..jotir.ks uueen Anne, apparc^ioly under t/:.o
1 . -;v-es: ion tiit-.t t;ie t'.'O sovorei.-'iis v/erc
identical. It was described ith so-no r1u.;tice
aa an rortir-.tic colony, taourh i^ never ±

362
lost in retrospect by contrast v/ith its more vigorous antecod
nts and cuocecsors. 7
Against this ue^tive view of the eighteen-ei iitiea cm be
set a number of ar;uncnta. In the theatre, a much-acclaimed
rapprochinent between the rrtiftic establishment and the
commercial manaconents *;e.ve the rtist a footing which was
to the advantage of a later ane- ...ore r dical generation.
Irving may hrve acquired his : rtistic L.en^e from Ellen Terryv;ho
claims as much in her autobiography - or dili cntly
picked the brains of :iis advi. ore, but he set a rjtand.-rd. which
the otiier London nana^ers v;ere obliged to enul^te if they
v.ished to fill their houses , j.'o do this they re- lireu the
services of deui. nors like Godwin and ingfield, and ac vicu .1
effect nomine ted tlio business of the eta; c, r.;o tu se "experts"
had to be £iven authority over matters formerly entrusted to
th--t elu.. ive being, the stc.^e-,1 nri^cr. The "omcrts" boerja
to dea net powers now associated \ dth the [unction of a
director. Jone ja;makers, like Darrett,established a working
compromise \/it.- t ? -oir .clvir ore; so e, like Tree, followed
Irvinc in a. su:diif a v;ell-ij. ; rorraed dco-jotism; some, like the
hapless John Cole .11, r:ou f ;rb to keep t.ie old absolute ian? crial
r'Jile, and suffered accordingly, .ion tv/o younr A;iorican
researc-icrs, Kenneth " c r'owan and Robert lidnond Jo. es, reported
on a t )ur of tiie Gontiiioutra t'loiitres in 1922, they .\cvoted
a chcrou.r to "The ^-rti^t ?:u: Vdroctor", and foimcl tlv. t they
eoulu not ui.efui-ly di.:tinguiUi betvve .n the • rtc r>lf yed in
the str-ein.:; of R rroo.uction by o.ic director and the urtict.
On the Continent, the -^icciGuce of a ;,t,.te ondo'.vod th'.-.Mtrecyctera,
, itii it;;. :ieir; rcliios of -•-roduction-v.orkurG :md the
•iou-'aanapjri 1 artistic dorainruce do.ii;.inded by • .ci'ior, acco..jpliched
the tt sk of introducing the; "third person". In London
the requii-cnentE of £,n inf -»i-:ied public !• t tie ! rtist into
t;io playhouse,
die fortunes of Jli-. l:ocpo. r-. .t t >e hones o_ the Lone on
nan: ^.vacate ,;ii-_-ht i>U5t est that the •! .yv.ri: iit w s i.,ho.n the
exit -.-hen the artist v.-as . olconocl to the roh< -\r -'1. One ai^n
that thij w.s not necessarily the c.' t-o nd ; lit be seen iu

363
Godwin's ttamlot. which showed that a "correct" and scenically
sumptuous presentation of the tragedy could be accorrm,nied by
a more scrupulous regard for the dramatist's intentions than
Irving or his predecessors had : hown. It is also reasonable
to interoixt the ccenic predilections of the age as a renewal
of faith in the possibility of presenting ohaJccspeare o.. the
ot..£o» Haslitt'o dictum that "j oetry and the it; ce co not
a&ree well together", had long overshadowed the production
of the plays. The new movement was more confic cut than the
preceding decades in its ability to van the cn->rovr,l of the
le; mod and artistically sensitive. An intelligent playgoer
could no?; attend a performance without too /rreat a feeling
of guilt «vt his n rticirrtion in the utter dececr tion of
a text, ihe change rru y have been one of attitude, rather
than r .ctice, but it was no less ;A- mficont for tart. The
attempts to write literr.ry < r':m, which have been discussed
in Part One» Chapter '.^.iroe, ra. y be interpreted in the same
way: the work done nay Ir ve been in itself uninteresting by
conoerison v;itn Ibsen or .jtriudber", but its intention \v^c
of vital in -art; .nee to the coning dr:;, tic ir.over ent. Ideas
were be ;r:i:min,c to be reconciled with the theatre.
The Shakespc; ,rer.n criticism of l;j.yc; \ it:i ,'iiich he (Jealt, and his e: .-ay on the History Plays
tijs been recognised as a . ±^n of the Levolution in interpretation
of uicii? rd 11/*. Wiice*s contribution to the body of
criticism is leas easily accepted ac v la-ble in itc. ov.n
ri Jit, By his insistence t^"i;;t ohakespep.re v/; ;.s c, the. tre poetalbeit
his o;.-n cort of then ore noet - v.ilde diO perform a
useful function in the revival of informed interect in the
cnune, cui-; "by ais practice as a reviewer ho yc.ve the v^ci^ht
of his r'ooal -,ri:'in t; lent :o the icleno he hid b.orboc ::ror,
(Jociv/in cui^ oth-'-r:.. rfhe -,.-ori:G of jvdnbume c.r.d ;lelen P^ucit
are of aore c oubtful i;. tport;.aiCG, tlie one bein, ^ :;;olc.nciiolic
flicker of tlae old fl: me, the other a document of tie attitudes
and tera'pcrtitie^t of a succc. tuul actress, r.ot. .in^ ;oro uced it)
iiUii.laiic (airing the f;ec;;de carried the intellectual v/ci;-jit or
er.ul ted t'ic t:ioroa.

364
Artist (1087), but the emotional power of Pater's v/riting
hus an intellects.a rigour of its own and a sonce of personal
involvement .vliich vVilde and Helen Faucit share.
Finally, in defence of the »ei{ lities, it en be alleged
thrt the timidity and academism of ' Iraa-Tadema, :,Ioore and
Lei/nton, revealed by comparison wit x ,-hiotler or their French
contemporaries, arc not as important r s the cchievement of
the ort-e -iticr;. A new flourishing of art-journal ism was
a^-con ".nied by the rejection of narrative and ;n understanding
of the abr:tr ct values of colour, space and form. The artirt's
material hr.d its own significance. The career? 1 could rive the
accurate representation of reality after v.hicli the artict had
striven for so long, and, by its ^susceptibility to meni^alr.tion,
had >.hovm the chimoric;\l nature of that aim. Hot only
r'it". photogrt.nhy render a certain kind of .renting redundant
(notably Pith's docuj .cnt^xy c;.nvases): it drew attention to
the vr-luGL- of colour and form anc the significance of the
artist's choice in the art it was widely believed to supercocle.
It could hardly be maintained that the art critics of the period
offered a systeraatic*aesthetic f but they cannot be denied to
have ;:cco;::o;.ated in their view of art many new ideas. ,:.o.:' -
times the old and the new co—exist in a bewildering v/;,y. Thus
an article in g;.io K.';. L-:asi_nr _of \^t_ on tae experi ;o-?ts of
fM.ybric'-;e and others vvitli iriLtantrmeous plioto r r -;!iy combines
the rejection of the no-..-attained ; bility to r.ee t;iings as
uhey are v-itli the conservative regard for r^n old convention.
The \.Titer is :v?; ,r to endorsir.-~: Irnre: ..ionism:
Tlie function of pictures is to revive a :rl
iiito?i:.7ify former impressions; a.m ; I a;:.,trt,
•without fe;-r of contradiction, t;:at neither
^rey's nor .itill tan's cli.^;'\rruas of /jr.lloriinf;
h >r; es, treated never so Ucilfully, v/o^'ld
rovivG recoil actions oi1 the t happy dt:y soont
^•fc • o" . 2o IT Hoi""-OS • :i t i'ul?. gr.llo r ~ -'O'. T
extended. To tr.'.o 1 ver of art ivTueinj-"; -o tTi..
, ,-j T .
-i „ r-nr. -', , - J. JL _L t-J *-/C - J~ '.. i . -^ r"\
That c.rt liec in interpretation rnt?:r thr^n rc-ircaoutntion
w.-. s est;-.b"Lichf»r» d'n-ing the 'ei^htiec: Clive tioll'c _,j/t,
published in 1314, h s few r-r a"ionts tJu :t v o^ld lv-ve been
entirely u-^' ; - n.ilitir to the v ell-ini'orncd re-(lor of three
cieci'/ies before. 3ell's • dr.iir.- .tion for irinitivo Art v: • c not

foreshadov.ee in the f ei lities, but the qualities he admired
were in essence those proposed by hj.stl-.r ana Go'.^in -
"absence of representation, absence of technical swagger,
subli -I./ inprec-rive form"11 . Bell's di ,:.;!.;: .1 of the work
of Frith and of the jt'u:r i, .native i:i,or;j continues a
process which hud bc..un in the 'eighties, and his 1; n;;~oage
and manner t,t tines re-call '»!il

SONDERDRUCK
DEUTSCHE SHAKESPEARE-GESELLSCHAFT WEST
JAHRBUGH 1974
HERAUSGEGEBEN IM AUFTRAGE DER GESELLSCHAFT
QUELLE & MEYER • HEIDELBERG

DESIGNER AND DIRECTOR:
E. W. GODWIN AND WILSON BARRETT'S HAMLET OF 1884
BY
RUSSELL JACKSON

Designer and Director: E. W. Godwin and Wilson Barren's Hamlet 18 7

188 RUSSELL JACKSON

Designer and Director: E. W. Godwin and Wilson Barrett's Hamlet 189

190 RUSSELL JACKSON

Designer and Director: E. W. Godwin and Wilson Barrett's Hamlet 191

192 RUSSELL JACKSON

Designer and Director: E. W. Godwin and Wilson Barren's Hamlet \ 93

194 RUSSELL JACKSON

Designer and Director: E. W. Godwin and Wilson Barrett's Hamlet 195
.

196 RUSSELL JACKSON

Designer and Director: E. W. Godwin and Wilson Barrett's Hamlet 197

198 RUSSELL JACKSON

Designer and Director: E. W. Godwin and Wilson Barrett's Hamlet 199

200 RUSSELL JACKSON