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THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 1904 — 1907 
 
The Court Theatre 
 
 I 904-1 907 
 
 A Commentary and Criticism 
 
 by 
 
 Desmond MacCarthy 
 
 With an Appendix containing 
 
 Reprinted Programmes 
 
 of the 
 
 " Vedrenne-Barker Performances' 
 
 London 
 A. H. BULLEN 
 
 1907 
 
 Rights of translation reserved 
 
TO 
 
 J. L. HAMMOND 
 
 456033 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PACK 
 
 Introduction. — The Influence of Dramatic Criticism . . ix 
 Chapter I. — The Court Theatre — The Acting and Methods 
 of Production — The Return of the Prodigal — Scenery — 
 The Greek Plays — The Chorus — Summary of Plays . i 
 
 Chapter II. — The Court Theatre Dramatists — The Convict 
 on the Hearth — Mr. St. John Hankin — The Silver Box — 
 Mr. R. V. Harcourt — The Voysey Inheritance — Prunella — 
 The Campden Wonder — Votes for Women — Foreign 
 Plays : Aglavaine and Selysette — In the Hospital — The 
 Wild Duck — Hedda G abler — The Thieves' Comedy . . 15 
 
 Chapter III. — Mr. Bernard Shaw — His Characters — His 
 
 Treatment of Emotion 47 
 
 Chapter IV. — The Shaw Plays and Performances — Candida 
 —John BulPs Other Island — You Never Can Tell — Man 
 and Superman — Captain Brassbound^ s Conversion — How 
 he Lied to her Husband — The Man of Destiny — The 
 Doctor's Dilemma — The Philanderer — Major Barbara — 
 Don Juan in Hell 66 
 
 Appendix of Reprinted Programmes 121 
 
 vii 
 
NOTE 
 
 The publisher wishes to acknowledge the courtesy of 
 Messrs. Vedrenne and Barker and of their staff in helping to 
 ensure accuracy in the reprinted matter contained in the 
 Appendix. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 It may sometimes depress the critic to reflect how little 
 influence he has upon the fate of the plays and books he 
 criticizes, but this fact is the salvation of criticism, and often, 
 let me hasten to add, the salvation of art. If the case were 
 otherwise, and the critic knew his opinion had a direct eflect 
 upon the commercial success of a play, he could hardly bring 
 himself to point out carefully the defects of a performance, 
 which he thought, nevertheless, far better than its competitors 
 for public favour. He would feel bound, in such a case, to 
 consider the immediate effect of what he wrote, and this pre- 
 occupation would be fatal to criticism. Happily, we need 
 not think of this. It is obvious that success is achieved 
 independently of the opinion of critics ; the sky is red with 
 spreading, blazing reputations which their cold water is as 
 powerless to quench as a fire-engine a prairie fire; nor can 
 their unanimous praise always secure even a modicum ot 
 success. For instance, in March 1905, the Court Theatre 
 Company produced a translation of Hauptmann's Bieber Pels, 
 called The Thieves Comedy. It was a first-rate performance, 
 and an exceptionally good play. The critics praised it with 
 one accord ; not only those who had begun to see in the 
 Vedrenne-Barker management the most notable achievement 
 in modern dramatic production, but also those who were 
 
 reluctant to admit anything of the kind. They praised the 
 
 ix 
 
X THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 acting, the play, the point ; they lavished on it those adjec- 
 tives which are calculated to rouse curiosity ; but the play 
 ran out after nine performances before almost empty houses. 
 It is not likely, in the event of its revival, that it would again 
 fall flat; but that would be due to Messrs. Vedrenne and 
 Barker having now gained the confidence of a considerable 
 public, in securing which the support of even the most 
 authoritative critics has only played an ancillary part. If, 
 then, the public do not follow the critics, why do they read 
 them ? That they do so is certain, since every daily and 
 weekly paper continues to provide criticism in large quantities. 
 Dramatic criticism finds two kinds of readers ; those who 
 just glance at the plot and the names of the "stars" to 
 discover whether a play is likely to amuse them, and those 
 who, equally or even more anxious to discover this, are 
 interested at the same time in discussions upon the merits 
 and meanings of plays. To the former, dramatic criticism is 
 simply a species of elaborated, garbled news, less trustworthy 
 than a hint from an acquaintance ; to the others it is an 
 expression of opinion upon topics which they are in the habit 
 of discussing themselves. If a critic is interesting they read 
 him, but with no more subservience than they would feel 
 towards a writer who was not a critic : the direct influence of 
 criticism is therefore, in either case, likely to be small. Judg- 
 ing, however, from the prodigious quantity of talk exchanged 
 over plays and novels, readers of the latter kind are numerous 
 enough; even allowing for the fact that conversation upon 
 art and literature is one of the commonest masks that polite- 
 ness finds for boredom. In France this fact is recognized, 
 and interest at the back of all this general talk about the 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 drama finds a better continuation in the Press. French 
 dramatic critics are allowed at least twenty-four hours during 
 which to examine and express their impressions, while our 
 daily-paper critics are hustled into print an hour or two after 
 leaving the theatre. It is they who are most widely read, 
 while it is their work which is perforce most carelessly done. 
 The deft and spirited Times may plunge into his subject at 
 any point, and in a few energetic sentences reach the centre 
 of his theme ; but a combination of endowments including 
 logic, quickness, and a fly-paper memory, which catches every 
 telling phrase, is as rare as it is essential under such con- 
 ditions. On the other hand, a critic may be capable of 
 gathering a fair harvest of observation, without having the 
 high-pressure mental machinery to reap and thresh it within 
 a couple of hours, and such critics have now no chance of 
 doing their best. Consequently they are in disgrace in all 
 quarters : managers talk as though they would gladly be rid 
 of them ; actors are sick of finding their acting dismissed in 
 a few vague phrases at the end of an account of the plot, 
 their strokes of imagination unnoticed, their bungling care- 
 lessly praised ; authors complain that their plays are mis- 
 understood — Mr. Shaw frequently writes prefaces to show 
 they are dunder-heads ; their editors cut them down, their 
 readers think they could do better themselves. All this 
 would surprise nobody who had seen a first-night rush back 
 to newspaper offices, where copy is often snatched away in 
 the writing, and the time allowed commonly varies from 
 forty to a hundred minutes. So driven, a man will usually 
 find himself writing, not what he would most like to express, 
 but whatever he can put down quickest. The remedy is 
 
xii THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 simple : the editors must be persuaded to accept a brief 
 "report" of the first night and to hold over the critical 
 account of the play till the following issue ; or, better still, 
 for a weekly feuilleton. It would pay them well : they would 
 be getting far better copy ; they would please a section of 
 the public they never cease to cater for by literary articles 
 and reviews of all kinds, while they would be providing the 
 people, who choose their plays by rules of thumb, just the 
 prompt, ungarnished news they require on the following 
 morning. That it would be an advantage, from the point 
 of view of the theatres, if critics were enabled to write their 
 best, may seem in contradiction with the fact that criticism 
 has little direct influence ; for it is certainly true that the 
 sale of tickets depends upon the taste of the public, and 
 not upon the taste of the critic ; but criticism has neverthe- 
 less a strong indirect influence : an example can be taken 
 from the history of the Court Theatre. 
 
 In accounting for its success, after you have pointed to the 
 originality and power of Mr. Shaw's plays and the intelligence 
 and naturalness of the acting, further explanations may seem 
 as superfluous as Harlequin's thirty-six reasons why his dead 
 master could not appear; yet if we do seek further, the 
 influence of ten years' criticism upon public sentiment, during 
 which the most entertaining critics assaulted the stock 
 London play, laughed at its hackneyed situations, its vapid 
 sentiments, exposed its reach-me-down solutions and super- 
 ficial problems, must be taken into consideration in accounting 
 for the difference between the success of Messrs. Vedrenne 
 and Barker and that of such intermittent enterprises, so similar 
 in spirit, as the Independent and New Century Theatres. 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 Beside the comparatively few people who knew all along 
 what they wanted from the theatre, there were a large 
 number who knew vaguely what they did not want, but were 
 inclined to explain their constant dissatisfaction by telling 
 themselves that they were not naturally fond of the drama. 
 The few who knew what they wanted went to the Independent 
 and New Century Theatres, or joined the Stage Society ; the 
 others, without being convinced completely, began to be 
 persuaded, by such critics as " G. B. S.," " Max," Mr. William 
 Archer and Mr. Walkley, that there might be the best 
 reasons for their lack of interest in the average play. When 
 \ in 1904 the Court Theatre started under a new management, 
 the enterprise this time did not wear the truculent, propagan- 
 dist aspect of the Independent Theatre ; Ibsen was no longer 
 a bugbear, though he was far from being a draw ; the plays 
 of Mr. Shaw had been widely read^' and there was considerable 
 curiosity to see them \ Arms and the Man and the few per- 
 formances already given of You Never Can Tell, The Devil's 
 Disciple, and Candida had been remembered and talked 
 ^ about ; and,: moreover, Messrs. Vedrenne and Barker had the 
 good fortune to produce, as their second play, John BuWs 
 Other Island, which attracted all sorts and conditions of men. 
 Society, on the eve of a general election, came to laugh at 
 Broadbent, and to listen to brilliant discussions upon Irish 
 and English character. They sat enthralled through a play 
 with no vestige of a plot, delighted by acting unlit by the light 
 of " a star," which was obviously and incomparably the better 
 for that. Here, too, they found a play the roots of which 
 struck among the interests of the time, which presented types 
 of character delightfully recognizable, yet new to the stage, in 
 
xiv THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 which a most natural sequence of events carried them along 
 like a series of ingeniously contrived surprises, and left them 
 with plenty to think over, laugh over, and dispute over when 
 the curtain fell ; in short, here was a new play full of qualities 
 which the critics had been arraigning the London stage for 
 not possessing. No wonder when the question of going to 
 the theatre next came up people should ask themselves what 
 was being done at the Court. 
 
 Thus in an indirect way these critics, who were so amusing 
 to read, had prepared the public to see the significance of the 
 new management ; and though it cannot be supposed that 
 were this suggestion, for giving the majority of critics more 
 time, taken up, the result would be a rich crop of remarkable 
 criticisms, certainly the discussions upon the merits and 
 defects of plays would be henceforward much closer, and the 
 articles proportionately more interesting to numbers of 
 people. It is of small consequence that a critic should damn 
 a good play ; but it is of consequence that the feeling which 
 criticism promotes should be that plays are well worth dis- 
 criminating upon, since only in such an atmosphere can 
 drama flourish. Criticism may miss the point again and 
 again ; but provided it is of the kind which stimulates 
 impartial scrutiny and interest in the minds of those who 
 concern themselves with works of art, it has fulfilled its main 
 function both as regards art and the public. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 1904-1907 
 
Touchstone. Wast ever at the Court, shepherd ? 
 
 CORIN. No, truly. 
 
 Touchstone. Then thou art damned. 
 
 As You Like It, Act III, sc. 2. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 1904 1907 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 In 1904 the Court Theatre was in the hands of Mr. J. H. 
 Leigh, who at the time was giving a series of Shakespeare 
 revivals. Mr. Vedrenne was his manager. In February of the 
 same year Mr. Granville Barker, who had produced several 
 plays for the Stage Society, was asked to superintend the 
 production of The Two Gentlemen of Verona, He undertook 
 to do this on condition that Mr. Vedrenne would join with 
 him in giving six matinee performances of Candida. The 
 proposal was readily accepted, and out of it grew the per- 
 manent alliance between them, which has had such important 
 results. 
 
 The closest parallel to this joint enterprise is, perhaps, the 
 starting of the Theatre Libre, in Paris, by M. Antoine, in 1887. 
 In their aims, in their immediate influence upon the drama, 
 and in their successes, these two enterprises have had much 
 in common, though their beginnings were different. M. 
 Antoine began acting before small audiences of subscribers, 
 who were either scoffers or enthusiasts, plays which only ran 
 
2 :;.;;. t.ije::court theatre 
 
 for „thj'C(^^,i^ightg; the: Passage de I'Elys^e des Beaux Arts, 
 where "they Were peffdfm6ci","was a mean-looking little alley, 
 with nothing propitious about it except its sounding name ; 
 in fact, the only advantage that M. Antoine had at the start 
 was his freedom from the censor's interference. The points 
 of resemblance between the two enterprises are that both 
 succeeded in getting the public to appreciate a more natural 
 style of acting, that both were practical protests against the 
 tyranny of the " well-constructed play," that both produced 
 their plays for short runs, and, lastly, that both very quickly 
 collected round them a new school of young playwrights. In 
 each case the same principle lay at the back of their successes 
 and their influence ; namely, a determination to get away 
 from what was artificial and theatrical in methods and 
 traditions, and to get back to actuality in gesture, diction, and 
 sentiment. M. Antoine, however, had the more rigid tradition 
 to contend against ; Mr. Barker's way had been smoothed by 
 the Independent and New Century theatres, and by the 
 Stage Society. His public was familiar with Ibsen's theory 
 of the stage as a room with a wall knocked in to allow the 
 spectators a view of the interior; while the French public 
 laughed whenever M. Antoine turned his back on the 
 audience. 
 
 At the Court the acting pleased from the first. People 
 began to say that the English could act after all, and that 
 London must be full of intelligent actors, of whom nobody 
 had ever heard. Yet, strange to say, these actors, when they 
 appeared in other plays on other boards, seemed to sink 
 again to normal insignificance. The truth was that the Court 
 Theatre acting, which was so much admired and talked 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 3 
 
 about, was only a part of a general theory of dramatic pro- 
 duction, which was carried out at every point with the most 
 stringent consistency. 
 
 The aim of the management throughout was truth as opposed 
 to effect. The ideas which regulated every detail, decided the 
 importance of each scene and the prominence of each character 
 was a recognition of the truth that in order to make others feel 
 you must feel yourself, and to feel yourself you must be natural. 
 This not only implied that actors had to be carefully chosen 
 to fill parts which they could sympathize with and under- 
 stand, but that every speech, dialogue, and scene had to 
 undergo beforehand the criticism of rigorous common -sense ;^ 
 in fact that the whole play had to be tugged at and tested in 
 rehearsal until the coherence of its idea and the soundness of 
 its sentiment were perfectly established. Now that is not the 
 usual process of production ; what happens in the majority 
 of cases is rather this. A prominent actor takes a fancy to 
 a play, because it contains a part which promises him oppor- 
 tunities for bringing off some of his most celebrated effects. 
 He may be aware that there are very weak passages in it ; 
 he may feel even in his own part the ground quaking under 
 him at every step ; but he knows that his manner is inimitable 
 in a certain scene — say, one in which he pardons an erring 
 woman, — and he relies on his manner, his peculiar knack, or 
 his personal magnetism to carry it off and prevent the audience 
 from feeling the flimsiness of the sentiment or the improbability 
 of the situation. 
 
 But the weak places are still there, although the principal 
 scene may be safe in the hands of the "star," and the problem 
 of the producers becomes, how to disguise them as much as 
 
4 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 possible. I am not discussing here the inevitable consequence 
 of the Actor-manager system, which compels the leading 
 actor, who knows that he is the principal attraction, to make 
 his part as prominent as possible and everything lead up to 
 his scenes, even to the detriment of the whole play; but a 
 method of production which affects not only the proportions 
 of the parts, but the manner of acting them. This method is 
 the one of disguising sham sentiment and incongruous utter- 
 ances by teaching the actors to " carry them off; " so that the 
 art of acting becomes in many cases the art, not of reproducing 
 emotions, but of behaving in such a way that the audience is 
 astonished into not noticing whether the acting is good or 
 bad, or whether the emotion expressed is true or false. The 
 practice of the Court Theatre management has been exactly 
 the reverse of this. The players have been trained not to 
 "act" in this sense. The surprisingly good quality of the 
 acting has been mainly due to the fact that the producers 
 have taken pains to see that the actors should have 
 nothing inane or affected set them to say and do ; and 
 that the parts should be capable of being acted well, that 
 is to say, naturally and sincerely, from beginning to end. 
 Imagine the predicament of an intelligent actor, who is 
 trying to make a human being out of his part, when he 
 finds that he has to "carry off" some scene or speech 
 which has no vital connection with the character he repre- 
 sents ! He must go through with it, he must give it an 
 artificial lift of some kind or other ; yet, in doing so, he must 
 make nonsense of the character his art has constructed by 
 means of a hundred little touches of imagination. If you 
 make a man knock the bottom out of his own work in this 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 5 
 
 way, of course he ceases to put his heart and imagination into 
 it. So the main cause of stockishness and lack of imagination 
 among actors is, in the end, the lack of any critical interest in 
 the managers themselves. They have no artistic faith ; they 
 are interested, not in human nature, but in dramatic effects ; 
 they prefer plays which " show power ; " and in consequence 
 they are obliged to train their actors and themselves so as to 
 disguise the weaknesses of such plays, and to avoid natural 
 acting for fear of challenging in the spectator a standard of 
 reality. 
 
 Another point with regard to the Court Theatre perform- 
 ances which was quickly noticed was the excellence with 
 which the minor parts were performed. Every actor apparently 
 was willing to accept the smallest part, however marked his 
 success in longer parts might have been. It was worth his 
 while to do this because the producers were careful to leave 
 as much room for him in his scene as the construction of the 
 play allowed. They were absolutely unhampered by either 
 the desire or by the obligation of the actor-manager to make 
 the interest of a performance centre upon one or two 
 characters ; with the result that the Court Theatre has been 
 practically the only theatre where it has been worth an actor's 
 while to play a small part, and where the playwright's inten- 
 tions have been absolutely respected. To take one of many 
 examples. Mr. Edmund Gwenn had made a hit as Straker 
 in Man and Supennayi; when next he appeared he was Baines, 
 the butler, in The Return of the Prodigal He had very 
 few words to say, and he was only on the stage for a few 
 minutes. They were not minutes which were crucial to the 
 development of the story, but they were made important by his 
 
6 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 imaginative acting. The principal figure, the Prodigal himself 
 (Mr. Matthews), was his interlocutor ; but nevertheless as 
 long as Baines was on the stage he was the centre of interest. 
 Not because he out-acted Mr. Matthews, but because his 
 remarks were, at the moment, the most important means 
 towards creating the atmosphere which the author had 
 intended to produce. 
 
 About eleven o'clock, the morning after the fainting Prodigal 
 has been found on the door-step, Baines, while clearing away 
 his late, lazy breakfast, begins to discuss with effusive, yet 
 duly respectful interest, his young master's narrow escape 
 from perishing the night before. The Prodigal, whose fainting 
 was a ruse to secure a warmer welcome, naturally discourages 
 an interest in his dramatic return home, and proceeds to 
 ask a string of questions about his industrious and blameless 
 brother and his father s parliamentary prospects. The answers 
 enable him to see how the land lies ; but the dialogue was 
 made interesting by the butler's manner, which became at 
 once discreetly and regretfully self-effaced, when he received 
 no encouragement to be sympathetic. Mr. Michael Sher- 
 brooke's Marzo in Captain Brassbound's Conversion was an 
 instance of perfect success in a small part, though, unlike 
 the former, not an example of the actor's art of creating 
 a character from a mere hint of the author. He had 
 not a half-dozen lines to speak, yet by becoming so per- 
 fectly the childlike Italian rapscallion, he diffused reality all 
 round him, and by his desperate interruption, when Lady 
 Cecily in the trial scene is referred to as a lady — " She no 
 lady. No lady nurse dam rascal. Only saint. She saint " — 
 he drove home the romance of her practical, universal 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 7 
 
 kindness as effectively as Miss Ellen Terry's voice and sweet 
 good-natured manner in the leading part.> When will the 
 other London managers learn that the dramatist who is 
 worth his salt needs the co-operation of every part, however 
 small, in order to drive his meaning home ; that we want to 
 see plays, not to have our attention riveted perpetually on 
 the same personality for three hours at a stretch ? Besides, 
 it is largely by seeing the effect of a personality on others 
 that we come to feel its force, and if the other characters on 
 the stage with the principal figure are not felt to be real 
 people, this reflection of him in their behaviour must be 
 vague and unreal. A leading actor, who is to impress us, 
 must be surrounded by other actors in their way equally 
 convincing -j otherwise all we gather from the performance is 
 that he knows his business better than his cast, which as often 
 as not is a poor compliment, and not worth paying half-a- 
 crown to verify. 
 
 There is another point which London managers persistently 
 overlook, that good acting can make poor scenery seem real, 
 but that real scenery cannot do the same for poor acting. 
 The Court Theatre had no spare money to lavish on the 
 setting ; but who missed the luxurious drawing-room interiors, 
 the silver inkstands on the writing-tables, or the solid book- 
 shelves filled with indubitable books? As every reader of 
 novels knows, if once the novelist has made his heroine speak 
 rightly he can spare a description of her beauty ; if he can 
 transmit the emotion of the moment he need only say the 
 sun was up, for his figures to stand in the glances of the 
 morning and the birds to begin to sing in the woods : it is 
 the same with acting and stage properties. Lady Macbeth 
 
8 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 may drink to the health of her assembling guests from a 
 gilded marmalade pot, if only she raises it properly to her 
 lips, with as much effect as if she drank from a cup copied 
 from a museum treasure. 
 
 Sometimes pictorial beauty, however, does help to enforce 
 the sentiment of a scene ; but as a rule the simplest means, 
 harmony of colours and agreeable lights and shadows, do 
 this best. When the scene is a strange one it may be 
 necessary to vivify the imagination through the eye, or, in a 
 poetic play, to stir by sights and sounds a contemplative 
 mood in the spectator. The old theory of scenic presentation 
 was to aim at broad effects. This has been supplemented by 
 the practice of crowding the stage with every conceivable 
 property of the most realistic and costly description ; but 
 any one who saw the Japanese players when they were here 
 six years ago, or the performance of Salome^ given by the 
 Literary Theatre Club last summer, or Don Juan in Hell at 
 the Court Theatre a few months ago, will feel that a few 
 well-chosen details go further to create a scene than all the 
 usual resources of lavish London management. Moreover, 
 the atmosphere created by the suggestion of a few details, 
 beautiful in themselves, harmonizes more subtly with that 
 which the words create as the play proceeds. Elaborate 
 scenery, however splendid, is, and must remain, a portentous 
 matter of fact ; while a scene which is suggested takes 
 significance from all that happens, for it is formed itself out 
 of the spectator's imagination. Scenery of this kind is there- 
 fore the only proper setting for a poetic play. In the revivals 
 of Euripides at the Court Theatre, hardly enough attention 
 was paid to setting of this kind. In the Hippolytus the stage 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 9 
 
 was hardly worth looking at ; though in the Electra the 
 log hut, seen in the cool dusk of morning, with the 
 cypresses standing round it like black candle flames and 
 glimpses of sky beyond and between them, did induce a 
 mood of grave expectancy, befitting the play which was to 
 follow. 
 
 These revivals of the Greek drama have been a very 
 important part of the Court Theatre programme. Next to 
 Mr. Shaw with eleven plays comes Euripides with three, on 
 the list of their achievements. As a chronicler and com- 
 mentator upon the remarkable work of these two and a-half 
 years, I am at a disadvantage in dealing with these Greek 
 plays, having missed the performance of The Trojan Women, 
 which was thought far the most impressive of the three. 
 People still talk of Miss Gertrude Kingston's Helen as a 
 piece of acting to treasure in the memory ; and readers of the 
 play who considered it contained a too great monotony of 
 sorrow to be effective on the stage, found themselves, to their 
 astonishment, almost unendurably moved. There are no 
 scenes in the Elizabethan drama more terrible than this play 
 itself; there is nothing to equal it for prolonged tragic 
 suffering, for bitterest pathos, or for the sense it inspires of 
 the cruelty of men. 
 
 The heroes of Troy are dead when the curtain rises, and 
 their wives are at the mercy of their conquerors and about to 
 be borne away as slaves and concubines. They weep for 
 their children torn from them, for their dead husbands, and 
 for the terrible fate before them ; their lamentations are 
 addressed to each other or to the faithless gods, and over all 
 hangs the sense of an implacable fate. 
 
10 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Andromache's last remaining son is taken from her and 
 killed, for fear he should grow up to be the avenger of his 
 house ; Helen is delivered over to Menelaus that he may glut 
 his revenge upon her. She is the only one of these women who 
 shows no loyalty or true dignity under calamity. She lies 
 to her husband, saying that she left him against her will, and 
 meets him with ironic effrontery, confident in the power of her 
 radiant charms — well justified indeed, for he takes her home. 
 
 The play was performed, in the opinion of the discriminat- 
 ing, with a dignity which made the prolonged exhibition of 
 such sufferings tolerable and beautiful. 
 
 In the performance of the Hippolytus Mr. Granville Barker's 
 delivery of the messenger's speech was the most memorable 
 feature ; in the Electra, the spirit in which Miss Wynne- 
 Matthison acted the half-selfless, half-personal passion of 
 Electra herself, and the gravity and beauty of Mr. Lewis 
 Casson's delivery of Castor's speech at the end of the play. 
 
 It will be well to state, before going any further, what the 
 aim of the Court Theatre management has been in reviving 
 these Greek plays. Mr. Gilbert Murray's rare and beautiful 
 translations of Euripides proved that, in the hands of a poet 
 and a scholar, the old Greek dramas could be refashioned into 
 plays, which the English reader might enjoy and understand 
 with the same close, effortless sympathy with which he might 
 follow the work of a modern imagination. The performances 
 at the Court Theatre were attempts to carry this feat of 
 transfusion one step further; Mr. Murray had turned 
 Euripides into an English poet-dramatist ; Messrs. Vedrenne 
 and Barker tried what could be done towards naturalizing 
 him on the English stage. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE ii 
 
 Now there are three courses open to those who would 
 present revivals of ancient drama. 
 
 One method of success lies in keeping the modern spec- 
 tator conscious all the time that what he is looking at 
 requires, if it is to be understood and appreciated, a change in 
 his ordinary ways of feeling and judging. The actors, in this 
 case, must aim at archaic dignity ; they must stand, move, 
 and speak in such a way that the spectator is perpetually 
 conscious that the effect sought is different from the im- 
 pression which modern drama would seek to create in such a 
 scene. This is the safest method ; it is, too, the simplest by 
 which actors can be got to efface their own personalities, so 
 important a condition in the conveyance of simple and tragic 
 emotions. 
 
 The second method, one more tempting and more 
 ambitious, is to supplement the conventions of the ancient 
 stage, which now leave us cold, with modern means of rous- 
 ing emotion. The Greek Chorus is a convention emotionally 
 unintelligible to us ; this second method would add to the 
 utterances of the Chorus the majestic harmonies of tragedy 
 and the music of fear and hope. What a splendid oppor- 
 tunity there is for a triumphant burst from the Chorus 
 at the close of the recognition between Electra and Orestes, 
 one of the most passionate meetings in all drama, or when 
 they rejoice over the death of -^gistheus! With music the 
 Chorus would become to us what it was to the Greeks, a 
 sounding-board to emotion and a means of increasing the 
 spectators' sympathy with what was happening on the stage. 
 
 But the Court Theatre chose the third and most difficult 
 method ; that of acting the plays as though they had been 
 
12 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 written for the modern stage. They had no wish to succeed 
 in an aesthetically archaic performance or in an archseologi- 
 cally sentimental revival, and, on the other hand, the intro- 
 duction of music, by drowning the words, would have hindered 
 their main object, which was to deliver the whole play as it 
 is across the foot-lights. Euripides is so much in sympathy 
 with our way of feeling character and emotion, that it is 
 particularly tempting to bring out the significance of the 
 situations and dialogue by acting them with modern ex- 
 pressiveness. But supposing the managers right in their 
 choice, their treatment of the chorus was very damaging 
 to these plays. On the French stage they have, in some 
 similar revivals, reduced the Chorus to a rudiment, to two 
 venerable old men, one each side of the stage, repeating 
 their speeches alternately. This was very unsatisfactory, but 
 it is doubtful whether it could be more unsatisfactory than the 
 Chorus at the Court. There it was represented by seven or 
 eight ladies, who moved about with slow, elaborate caution, 
 posed like tableaux vivants^ and uttered the most various 
 sentiments in a monotonous and lugubrious chant, tapering 
 into dismal contralto notes, and conveying no definite emotion, 
 beyond suggesting the earnest desire of the performers them- 
 selves to do their best. These lilting sounds were so un- 
 familiar and mournful, that an allegro movement took no 
 effect. The chorus was started off by the leader touching a 
 chord upon a harp, and when she had to speak by herself she 
 always spoke in this artificial manner, even when what she 
 said should have come like a cry from a spectator moved 
 beyond control by sympathy or suspense. For instance, 
 before Electra has recognized her brother, when the chorus is 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 13 
 
 almost certain it is he, the leader exclaims, " O, never was 
 the heart of hope so hot within me," or, after the murder of 
 Clytemnestra, when brother and sister are overcome with 
 horror at what they have done, she calls out, " Dire is the 
 grief ye have wrought : " these words should sound like 
 excited cries from a spectator deeply stirred, and never 
 spoken in a voice artificially pitched. For whether the 
 Chorus is the " ideal spectator," or whether they belong more 
 to the stage than to the audience, they are certainly a body 
 of people in a high state of interested excitement ; and if 
 they are to add to the interest of the play itself instead of 
 detracting from it, the Chorus on the modern stage must 
 be represented by people who utter their comments, whether 
 they be reflections or passionate expressions of pity or rejoic- 
 ing, like people naturally moved. In their treatment of the 
 Greek Chorus, Messrs. Vedrenne and Barker seem to have 
 lapsed for the first and only time from their guiding principle 
 of production. A chorus of men would probably be more 
 effective ; for the voices of men speaking together are much 
 more impressive, and they look and move far better than 
 women in the Greek dress, who for some reason or other 
 appear self-conscious. 
 
 Before considering the performances in detail it will be 
 well to review at a glance the work of these two and a half 
 years.^ 
 
 1 For dates and the number of performances given of each play, see 
 Appendix. 
 
14 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Shaw eleven plays . Candida, 
 
 John BulVs Other Island. 
 
 How he Lied to Her Husband, 
 
 You Never Can Tell. 
 
 Man and Superman. 
 
 Major Barbara. 
 
 Captain Brassbound's Conversion. 
 
 The Doctor's Dilemma. 
 
 The Philanderer. 
 
 Don Juan in Hell. 
 
 The Man of Destiny. 
 Euripides .... three plays . Hippolytus. 
 
 The Trojan Women. 
 
 Electra. 
 Ibsen two plays . The Wild Duck. 
 
 Hedda Gabler. 
 Hankin two plays . The Return of the Prodigal. 
 
 The Charity that Began at Home. 
 Hewlett two plays . Pan and the Young Shepherd. 
 
 The Youngest of the Angels. 
 
 Barker The Voysey Inheritance. 
 
 Housman, Barker, and Moorat . . Prunella. 
 
 Galsworthy The Silver Box. 
 
 Hauptmann The Thieved Comedy. 
 
 Elizabeth Robins Votes for Women / 
 
 Schnitzler In the Hospital. 
 
 Robert Vernon Harcourt . . . . A Question of Age. 
 
 Cyril Harcourt The Reformer. 
 
 Masefield The Campden Woftder. 
 
 Maeterlinck Aglavaine and Selysette . 
 
 Fenn The Convict on the Hearth. 
 
 Yeats The Pot of Broth. 
 
 No one can help being struck by the number and variety of 
 these plays ; no other modern managers have given so Jmany 
 memorable performances in so short a space of time. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 The young dramatists, whose plays have been performed 
 at the Court, differ from each other in so many respects that 
 they cannot be readily classified. There is, however, one 
 broad distinction which can be made between some and 
 others. The work of Mr. Granville Barker^ Mr. Galsworthy 
 and, in a lesser degree, of Mr. Hankin shows a critical, 
 dissenting attitude towards contemporary codes of morality ; 
 while, on the other hand, Mr. Robert Vernon Harcourt and 
 Mr. Cyril Harcourt and Mr. Fenn take the world as a going 
 concern. Mr. Granville Barker's treatment of a case of 
 conscience in The Voysey Inheritance is distinctly sub- 
 versive. The moral is that embezzlement with the view 
 of straightening out a crooked state of things may be the 
 right course for a young man who finds himself heir to a 
 business founded on fraud ; in fact, the whole play is directed 
 against the notion that questions of right and wrong can 
 be decided by rules of thumb. Mr. Galsworthy's play The 
 Silver Box is an attack on the injustice of our present social 
 machinery. The play presents two instances of exactly 
 similar offences, the one committed by the idle good-for- 
 nothing son of a rich man, the other by a surly, unpleasant, 
 but by no means despicable workman, and shows how the 
 former escapes and the latter is punished. The great merit 
 of this play is the complex exactness of the parallel between 
 
 IS 
 
i6 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 the two cases, which nevertheless is so unobtrusively drawn 
 that the fact that there is a moral only occurs to the spectator 
 during the last act ; this is the highest compliment which 
 can be paid to a play with a purpose, that the moral is 
 not perceived till the end. 
 
 In the case of Mr. Hankin it is more difficult to show 
 that there is anything of the reformer about him ; but 
 certainly the distribution of sympathy in The Return of the 
 Prodigal is not conventional. In that play he puts forward 
 a good case for a real ne'er-do-weel, who has about him no 
 touch of the stage romance which usually surrounds such 
 a character. 
 
 On the other hand the man who has the beau role in Mr. 
 Fenn's Convict on the Hearth, is an East End parson who 
 makes everybody happy by the most approved methods of 
 cheerful Christian sympathy. It is an amusing, friendly, 
 touching little piece ; but with no more criticism of current 
 ideas in it than there is in The Christmas Carol. Both Mr. 
 Harcourts take the world of fashion as they find it, and 
 they find it — simply very amusing. 
 
 In spite, then, of the preponderance of Mr. Shaw and the 
 presence of Ibsen in the play-bills, it cannot be said that 
 the Court Theatre represented only one movement of 
 thought, even were the classical plays and such romantic 
 plays as Pan and the Young Shepherd, Aglavaine and 
 Selysette, and Prunella are set on one side. But it has 
 represented an aesthetic and dramatic movement of remark- 
 ably wide sympathies. Messrs. Vedrenne and Barker have 
 produced a number of plays which have been attacks on 
 current ideas, and they have produced others in which the 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 17 
 
 morality is of the customary type ; they have produced 
 plays so unconventional in form and construction that no 
 other manager in London would look at them, and plays 
 such as The Reformer, by Mr. Cyril Harcourt, which in 
 method and tone resembles the ordinary society play. What- 
 ever was good of its kind was given its chance, but the 
 number of the plays without what is considered a good 
 construction among them is a significant fact. If the 
 aesthetic influence of the Court Theatre upon the modern 
 drama were capable of being summed up in a sentence, the 
 truest summary would be that it has expanded enormously 
 the conception of what kind of story is suitable for the 
 stage ; in short, that it has enlarged the meaning of the 
 word "dramatic," for that adjective signifies nothing but a 
 quality in actions and persons which would make them 
 impressive on the stage. It used to be held, and is still 
 very generally believed, that the plot was the most im- 
 portant part of the play. The playwright constructed his 
 plot and then made the characters as real as he could 
 within the limits it allowed. He proceeded along certain 
 recognized lines. The first act, and sometimes the second 
 act as well, was employed in drawing the characters and 
 indicating their surroundings in such a way that there was no 
 need to return to them again ; the intrigue or plot probably 
 began in the second act, and grew more and more com- 
 plicated until it was quickly unravelled in the third or 
 fourth according to the length of the play. Whether the 
 play was a good one or not depended chiefly upon the in- 
 tensity with which the audience was made to wonder how 
 
 on earth the characters were going to get out of their 
 2 
 
i8 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 particular fix, how the compromising letter would be re- 
 covered, or the misunderstanding cleared up. Ingenuity of 
 construction was, then, an absolutely essential quality in a 
 dramatist. If he could draw character as well, or create 
 situations of emotional interest, he was a good dramatist ; 
 but neither of these powers by themselves served to win 
 him that reputation or even to get his plays acted at all. 
 The exposition in the first act was often immensely more 
 interesting than either the plot or the denouement^ but the 
 play was condemned if these were not neatly contrived. 
 The result of this tradition was to prevent a number of 
 writers, who had greater power of communicating emotion 
 and a far greater understanding of human nature than many 
 successful playwrights, from writing for the stage at all. 
 Either they did not possess the degree of ingenuity necessary 
 to construct a plot, or they were bored with having to treat 
 the problems arising out of character and circumstance 
 mechanically. 
 
 The tendency of modern dramatic art is now to make the 
 characters and the emotional and moral significance of the 
 situations the most important elements, and to reduce the 
 plot to a minimum. The characters in consequence are not 
 merely presented during the early scenes, but go on develop- 
 ing till the end of the play, so that the spectator may have to 
 alter his first impressions. In consequence, the faculty upon 
 which the modern play tends to rely more and more in the 
 spectator is no longer the power of following the indications 
 of a complex story, but of seizing and remembering shades of 
 character and emotion ; and the spectator's pleasure depends 
 now not so much on being unable to guess what is going to 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 19 
 
 happen next, as in being able to recognize that what doesj 
 happen next is true and interesting, either as a fact in human 
 nature or as proving or disproving some theory or belief. Of 
 course good construction is necessary in every play. The 
 stage always makes the most rigid economy of incidents 
 necessary, and if one event can be made to serve the purposes 
 of illustrating several points, so much the better; but the 
 revolt against " the well-constructed " play is, on one side, a 
 denial of the statement that every play in order to be good 
 must have the same kind of construction, and, on the other, 
 the assertion that character and nature are more interesting 
 on the stage (as elsewhere) than a cunningly dovetailed series 
 of unlikely events, and that they are therefore in reality more 
 " dramatic." This does not, of course, imply that all situa- 
 tions and developments of character are " dramatic " simply 
 because they are interesting ; nor does it get rid of the necessity 
 for " action " in a play, for " action " is the quickest and most 
 vivid way of exhibiting character. But it must be remem- 
 bered that action may be internal as well as external. It is, 
 then, a protest against the condemnation of a play which 
 has succeeded in being interesting, on the ground that there 
 is not enough " action " in it, or because it does not keep the 
 audience in doubt about the manner in which it will end. 
 
 If the emotions and relations between the characters in any 
 story or situation are of the kind which admit of being repre- 
 sented interestingly in the limited time the theatre allows, 
 then, as long as a dramatist succeeds in this, it is absurd to 
 find fault with him ; but if they can only be interesting or 
 beautiful when their gradual, minute, internal development is 
 shown, then they are not the subject-matter for the dramatist, 
 
20 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 but for the novelist. The danger besetting the new school is 
 in the choice of subjects simply on account of their interest 
 from the point of view of either psychology or morals, without 
 paying enough regard to this distinction ; the justification of 
 their principles is that their works have increased enormously 
 the importance and interest of the theatre. 
 
 The first characteristic of Mr. Hankin as a dramatist is that 
 he is easy to act ; his characters are very clearly drawn, and 
 the emotions and situations with which his plays deal are 
 within the reach of a very moderate range of experience. 
 The parts do not call for " temperament " or imagination in 
 the actors so much as intelligence and sympathy, which are 
 easier to find. His other qualities are lightness of touch, an 
 original humour, the power of weighing character in a very 
 even balance, and dexterity in introducing into a very ordinary 
 series of events, which the audience is certain will be evolved 
 along the most natural lines, an element of surprise and sus- 
 pense. The Return of the Prodigal shows all these qualities 
 at their best. 
 
 The party at the Jacksons' house has just broken up, when 
 the butler rushes in to say that the Master Eustace, whom all 
 believed to be in Australia, is lying lifeless on the doorstep. 
 There is a moment of wild excitement and agitation, and a 
 pale, mud-bespattered youth is carried in and laid upon the 
 sofa. Will he revive ? Certainly some instinctive tenderness 
 for him revives in the bosom of his family. In the frantic 
 search for restoratives he is left alone for a moment, when the 
 audience is surprised to see him coolly raise himself and settle 
 again more comfortably into a dead faint. Amid cries of 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 21 
 
 " My darling boy ! " " He's not dead ! " " He's coming to ! " the 
 curtain falls. One is very curious to know what sort of a 
 scapegrace he will turn out to be. He turns out a limp, 
 cleverish fellow with a firm conviction of his own utter incom- 
 petence. He has knocked about the world, lost the money 
 he was sent out with, and now, tired and mildly reckless, he 
 has come home to enjoy again the comforts of clean clothes, 
 rest, and a little indulgence, even if he has to pose as a wreck 
 to get them. What is to become of him ? What on earth 
 are his family to do with him ? That is the interest of the 
 play, and it is sustained to the end. His mother and sister 
 are glad enough to pet him ; but after he has loafed about the 
 house some days, and even the country doctor can no longer 
 pretend that there is anything the matter with him, his brother 
 and his father come down with the question, " What do you 
 propose to do ? " He answers : " Nothing. I can't do any- 
 thing. What do you propose to do } " He has told his 
 brother in confidence that his physical collapse on the night 
 of his arrival was a bit of acting to rouse sympathy, thus 
 making him an irritated accomplice in his success. Both 
 father and brother are fretting to get rid of him. He regards 
 them as a couple of heartless humbugs, who exploit others, 
 and, being slaves to snobbish aims, can for once be exploited 
 by himself. When a tailor's bill comes in, and his father in a 
 fit of desperation threatens to turn him out of the house, the 
 Prodigal simply replies : " Very well. I shall go to the nearest 
 workhouse, and do you think you will get into Parliament if 
 the constituency hears that you, a wealthy manufacturer, have 
 driven your son to the workhouse } " To his brother he says : 
 " Do you suppose you will succeed in uniting yourself to a 
 
22 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 good county family (especially as the girl doesn't care for you, 
 and even likes me better) if there is such a horrid scandal in 
 your own ? " He has them in a cleft stick. In the last act 
 they propose to send him off to Australia again with another 
 ;6'i,ooo. He refuses that, for he would simply lose it as he 
 did the first thousand, and starve again. He holds out for 
 ;^250 a year, and promises never to show his face in future 
 without request. He takes a cheque for his first quarter's 
 allowance, and departs that very night to avoid seeing his 
 fond, foolish old mother again. 
 
 This may seem a slender theme for a play, and the solution 
 of a problem, into which the spectator has entered with an 
 almost parental perplexity, by the allowance of ;^25o may 
 sound flat ; but the denouement is not flat, and the suspense is 
 kept up till the last. The dialogue is most spirited and 
 natural, and often extremely amusing. The Prodigal excites 
 a good deal of sympathy, because he is moved by the sym- 
 pathy of his mother and sister, and because he is miserable 
 and aware of his own feebleness, which he makes the justifi- 
 cation of his claim, as he really believes himself incapable of 
 earning a living ; while a scene between brother and sister, 
 very touching in its matter-of-factness, makes one feel that 
 father and son are fair game, by revealing that her prospects 
 of a free and happy future have been ruined by being dragged 
 by them into a society where for her there is little chance 
 of marriage. Stella Faringford will probably marry Henry 
 Jackson. Some kind of a love-liking springs up between her 
 and the Prodigal in the course of the four acts, just enough to 
 make the sense of his own incompetence harder to bear and 
 the conclusion of the play doubtful. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 23 
 
 The Charity that Began at Home is not so good. At the 
 close of the play you are left in doubt as to which characters 
 are meant to be in the right and which in the wrong ; and 
 this is here a defect, because they are divided into two groups 
 holding opposite views of life. Lady Denison and Margery 
 and Hylton make living for others their rule of life, and act 
 on the assumption that every one is good at bottom, and that 
 only kindness is required to make them behave well; while 
 Hugh Verreker and Mrs. Eversleigh take the view of human 
 nature upon which the ordinary judgments of the law and 
 society rest. 
 
 Lady Denison is a delightful character, and she was delight- 
 fully played by Miss Florence Haydon. Her art is based 
 upon a kindly, humorous, and minute observation, in quality 
 something akin to Mr. Hankin's own comic perception, namely 
 a subtle relish for inconsequence of speech, and for a kind of 
 unconscious wit, which results from an intelligent muddle- 
 headedness. This cosy, acquiescing, scatter-brained old lady 
 obeys the promptings ot a soft heart, with many sighs over 
 the quandaries in which it lands her, only less bewildering and 
 painful to her than would be the alternative of showing severity. 
 Her remark while protesting against Hylton's argument that 
 the butler, in spite of having seduced the maid, must be 
 allowed to stop on, reveals her. "It may save a soul," says 
 Hylton. " Oh, how very annoying ! " she exclaims, and decides 
 at once to keep him. On the other hand, when she learns 
 that her daughter is engaged to Verreker, whose shady 
 past has just been revealed, she is very much upset and 
 shocked, notwithstanding her " belief " in everybody's under- 
 lying goodness. Mrs. Eversleigh, after saying " This comes of 
 
24 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 your idiotic principle of being kind to worthless people," asks 
 her, with asperity, what step she proposes to take. " I shall 
 dismiss Soames," she answers firmly, pressing the electric bell 
 (Act. n. curtain). Truly a very inconsequent old lady ! But 
 she is very real and convincing. 
 
 The Silver Box was most admirably performed. It is 
 Mr. Galsworthy's triumph to have contrived to be subtle 
 without intricacy, and the triumph of the actors and manage- 
 ment to have represented the scenes with so much nature 
 and minute accuracy. Very seldom has a performance so 
 careful had at the same time so much the air of a play that 
 acted itself Mr. Galsworthy's qualities as a dramatist are 
 precision of design, a well-poised estimate of human nature, 
 and the command of cool well-considered satire, which is 
 the more effective for being unexcited, and the more re- 
 markable for being combined with a strong interest in social 
 questions. 
 
 The first act takes place in the dining-room of John 
 Barth wick's heavy rich house. His son Jack (perfectly 
 played by Mr. A. E. Matthews) returns drunk between 
 twelve and one at night. He has got in with the help of 
 a workman who happened to see him fumbling at the key- 
 hole. Jack enters, in a state of sordid exhilaration, waving 
 a reticule which he has snatched away " for a rag " from the 
 woman in whose flat he has spent the evening. He offers 
 Jones the workman, who has sulkily followed him in, a 
 drink, as he has not got a tip in his pocket. Jones, who 
 has been looking for work all day on an empty stomach, 
 takes a stiff glass of whisky, with the result that it flies to 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 25 
 
 his head. He is not at all a bad sort of man ; but he is 
 down on his luck and gloomily resentful against a world 
 which treats him badly. Mr. McKinnel conveyed his 
 character perfectly. After apostrophizing the torpid Jack, 
 he snatches up the woman's purse and the Barthwicks' silver 
 cigarette-box and goes out. The impulse which makes him 
 take them is exactly the same kind of drunken spite which 
 made Jack carry off the reticule from its owner. Next 
 morning, when the box is missed, suspicion falls on Mrs. 
 Jones, who is the Barthwicks' charwoman, and in the next 
 act her room is searched and she is arrested as well as her 
 husband, who loudly protests that he alone is guilty. The 
 Unknown Lady has meanwhile called to recover her purse ; 
 Jack's escapade is revealed, and his father, who refunds the 
 missing money, naturally wishes to hush up the whole matter. 
 But the prosecution cannot now be withdrawn, and the last 
 act is laid in a London police-court. The charge against the 
 Joneses is the theft of the box. By the help of the Barth- 
 wicks' solicitor, who takes advantage of Jack's cowardice and 
 muddled recollection of the night's doings, the magistrate 
 is persuaded that Jones got into the house through Jack 
 having left his key in the door ; this task is facilitated by 
 Jones' truculent clamours for justice. Mrs. Jones is dis- 
 charged ; Jones gets a month's hard labour ; and Jack leaves 
 the court as a young scapegrace who has deserved indulgent 
 reproof. 
 
 One of Mr. R. V. Harcourt's merits as a playwriter is his 
 dialogue, which reflects better, I think, than that of any other 
 dramatist's, the offhand sparkle and exhilaration of the lives 
 
26 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 of the children of leisure and pleasure. Mr. Sutro makes such 
 people wickedly epigrammatic and very vulgar ; Mr, Arthur 
 Jones can hardly be said to be successful in such characters ; 
 Mr. Pinero reproduces this atmosphere well, but still he does 
 not get it quite right. It is a society in which the fools are 
 apt to show quick intelligence and " the gifted what seems to 
 the thoughtful an extraordinary limitation of view." The 
 peculiar quality does not lie only in a frank avowal of having 
 an eye to the main chance and of the permanency of natural 
 instincts. Mr. Pinero seems to me to miss in his plays a 
 kind flexibility of feeling in these people, which, I think, Mr. 
 Harcourt is very happy in rendering. This gift of writing 
 society dialogue will stand him in good stead, and there is little 
 doubt that to it he chiefly owes the acceptance of the plays 
 he has already written. 
 
 But the chief merit in Mr. Harcourt's plays, the merit which 
 induces me to back him for success, is the cause also of his 
 present failure. His best quality is his acute and intricate 
 sense of a situation. His sense of it is so complete that he 
 cannot bear to prune it down to bare issues ; and so, not hav- 
 ing any particular deftness in stage craft, he naturally involves 
 himself and his audience in perplexity. 
 
 His play A Question of Age missed fire for this reason. 
 The story is one of cross-purposes. A widow on the verge of 
 middle age tries to persuade a young man to become her 
 lover, who is trying to screw up his mind to marry her for her 
 money, and the complication arises out of each misunder- 
 standing what the other wants. 
 
 Partly owing to an unfortunate omission in the dialogue at 
 the first performance, the situation was still further embroiled. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 27 
 
 Miss Fanny Brough and Mr. Kerr were both excellent in their 
 parts. 
 
 The most remarkable feature of The Voysey Inheritance is 
 the skill with which the interest in a single situation is main- 
 tained through four acts ; that this is a sign of fertility and 
 not poverty of imagination all who have ever tried to write 
 know well. Its second great merit is the vividness with which 
 a large family is presented, each member of which is a distinct 
 character. The second act is like a good chapter from a 
 novel read at a happy moment of hallucination. 
 
 The men are sitting round the decanters and dessert. 
 Major Booth Voysey (admirably played by Mr. Charles 
 Fulton) is straddling in front of the fire and laying down the 
 law in a loud, hectoring voice ; his father bends over his plate, 
 cracking nuts and occasionally directing an acid remark at 
 him. Old Mr. Booth and the vicar are at the table, unconscious 
 victims of their host's financial talents ; an engaged daughter 
 skips in and, glorying archly in the emancipation of her 
 position, carries off her rather shame-faced betrothed to the 
 solitude of the billiard-room ; Honor, " Mother's right hand," 
 a nervous, slavishly unselfish, quite helpless old maid, bustles 
 in and out in a distressed way on her brother's errands. 
 
 Mr. Voysey, the father of the family, has speculated all his 
 life with the sums entrusted to his care as a solicitor ; at first 
 to make up for the defalcations of his father, but afterwards, 
 so it turns out, because he could not resist the temptation to 
 use his financial talent. At the opening of the play he is in 
 arrears again, owing to some unfortunate speculations ; and on 
 admitting his son Edward into the partnership he reveals the 
 
28 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 trick to him. It is, he says, " the Voysey Inheritance," and 
 he adds that strangely enough it has been the cause of his 
 happiness, for after years of keeping his courage to the stick- 
 ing place he enjoys a perpetual exhilaration from feeling 
 under his feet the thinness of the crust on which his prosperous 
 home is built. He is an admirable study. Edward is at first 
 deeply shocked and troubled ; but when his father dies sud- 
 denly he takes up the Voysey inheritance and continues to 
 speculate with the clients' money in order to refund those who 
 would feel the loss most. By taking this decision he wins the 
 regard of a girl he had long wanted to marry, and in her 
 mouth is put the moral of the piece. She exhorts him to be 
 a man and to go through with it, for he is only risking the 
 money of the rich to pay back the poor. He does not, however, 
 inspire the same confidence as his father, and when old Mr. 
 Booth comes to the office to demand back his securities, 
 Edward tells him everything. He is too sick of the whole 
 business to care much what happens. Booth threatens to 
 prosecute if he is not paid back at the rate of ;6^i,ooo a year, 
 a condition which would prevent Edward refunding the money 
 of men who have far less than old Booth. He refuses — and 
 the matter is dropped. The fact that the play stops at this 
 point is a defect, and it is a defect very characteristic of this 
 school of dramatists. The interest of the author has been 
 centred entirely on the moral development of the hero, and 
 the growth in him of a new way of looking at life, with the 
 consequence that when this has been accomplished subsequent 
 developments do not appear to the dramatist important. Still, 
 the audience would like to know whether old Booth did 
 prosecute or not ; and the fact that the curtain falls at a 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 29 
 
 juncture which rouses curiosity instead of satisfying it is a 
 defect. 
 
 Prunella is a real Pierrot play. In what region of Europe 
 an inventive mind brought forth the creature Pierrot^ or 
 among what popular imaginations he was first kindly fostered 
 and formed, I do not know ; whether, like Punchinello and 
 Columbina, he crossed the Alps of Italy, or whether he bears 
 by birthright his French name. But this may be taken as 
 certain, that he was born in the Latin zone, beyond the 
 influence of Northern tenderness and Northern seriousness. 
 For, though the peculiar blend of human sentiment which 
 he engenders and embodies contains both seriousness and 
 tenderness, they are of a kind so inimical to ours, that we 
 instinctively condemn them as hardness and frivolity. If 
 there are virtues which Pierrot hates, they are dignity, self- 
 respect, and consistency. He has never been able to take 
 life more seriously, as far as behaviour is concerned, than his 
 own amusing mummeries, and men have found him pleasant 
 company because he is so shockingly free from any sense of 
 responsibility. He flatters their self-importance by his con- 
 trasted flimsiness, and the gravid mind enjoys vicariously in 
 him a light-heeled dance. Yet he is not gay. He would 
 lose many of his boon companions if he were ; since true 
 gaiety does not flatter in itself ; rather it dismays those who 
 cannot accompany its towerings. It cannot be patronized ; 
 Pierrot can be. He often whimpers for a little pity, hiding 
 his need in comic antics, in case he should not be understood. 
 True, if you give it him, when he thinks he has not betrayed 
 the craving, you may be startled by a flare of pride ; but it is 
 
30 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 a flash in a shallow pan, and if you pity him again he will 
 melt. If you could get him to philosophize quietly upon 
 himself, without crowing like a cock or pouring the wine on 
 your head, you would probably find that the one virtue upon 
 which he prided himself was humility. He would say that 
 nobody in the world seemed humble except himself; if you 
 said, " That sounds rather like a contradiction in terms," he 
 would not be the least disconcerted. He might go on to con- 
 fide that the want of humility in everybody else seemed to 
 him, when he was in good spirits, the most grotesquely funny 
 thing in the world, but that oftener it simply crushed him. 
 No one, he would add, who cultivated a sense of responsibility 
 could have humility ; such a sense was in itself a proof of 
 arrogance. He feels his humility will take him to heaven. 
 
 All this may seem to have very little to do with the play ; 
 but it does concern the sentiment of the play. For this is a 
 real Pierrot play ; not a fake. It may be careless here 
 and there ; but it is not a fake. Therefore, the sentiment of 
 Pierrot must be understood, if the play is to be appreciated, 
 and, above all, this " humility," which is so unsympathetic to 
 the majority of us, who, whatever opinions we may have about 
 art or the body or pleasure, have an ascetic repugnance to 
 any intimate form of self-abandonment, feeling that humility 
 is less than reverence, and that reverence implies a restraint 
 of emotion, whether in religion, love, or sympathy. So much 
 for Pierrot. I can only give an idea of the play by trying to 
 describe one or two scenes ; to tell the story baldly would 
 destroy the sentiment. 
 
 In a correct and charming garden, situated it does not 
 matter where, one summer's morning, it does not matter when. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 31 
 
 for this is the kingdom of fancy, are sitting three prim maiden 
 ladies, outside their staid old red-brick house. Near to a high 
 yew hedge stands a dry fountain over which a figure repre- 
 senting Love presides, his chin upon a fiddle. A little girl, 
 say sixteen years old, sits some few paces off them, reading 
 out her lesson in a monotonous sing-song. Prunella reads 
 and reads, and the ladies, her severe, particular aunts, begin 
 to yawn and then to nod and then to sleep. And as she 
 reads she is aware of a merry, bewildering music ; faint at 
 first, then nearer and nearer ; she holds her breath ; she 
 gabbles faster and faster ; louder and louder it sounds ; it 
 draws her like an eddy ; the maiden aunts wake with a 
 horrified jump and bustle into the house ; over the high, thick 
 hedge come paper startlers and handfuls of confetti ; the din 
 grows chaotic and rowdy — whistles and catcalls and songs — 
 as the mystic mummers go by on the road of the outside 
 world. Prunella, panting with excitement, stands tiptoe on a 
 chair to peep over. Then, at her feet she sees Pierrot crouch- 
 ing ; head adroop in whimsical adoration, geranium lips 
 pouted to an O, black eyebrows arched in a blank white 
 stare. "What are you doing here, you beautiful white 
 boy?" Presently, the whole band are round her, dancing 
 and laughing and tempting and teasing — Scaramel, Kennel 
 and Callow, Tawdry and Doll and Romp ; and Prunella at 
 last gives Pierrot a kiss, to ease him of his elaborate pain. 
 Another scene : it is moonlight, and the house is shut. 
 Pierrot, seated in pensive expectation on the rim of the 
 fountain, is serenading her window, vicariously, through the 
 voice of Tenor, dressed like him. The mandolin tinkles and 
 quavers ; the stars seem to throb. The song stops ; and 
 
32 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Pierrot advances underneath her window. All is silent ; 
 Scaramel fetches a ladder : " Little bird in your nest, are you 
 there ? " Slowly the window opens, and Prunella, her hair 
 flying a tattery dark cloud upon her shoulders, kneels in the 
 window. Quietly the garden begins to fill with fantastic 
 figures ; they dance and beckon, mopping and mowing, 
 whispering and laughing. Pierrot calls to her to come down. 
 Then follows a love duet, the dissonant harmony of which 
 I shall not try to suggest. They strew flowers before her 
 and crown her bewildered head, and call her Pierrette. 
 Before she yields, she kneels before the statue of Love, 
 imploring his oracle. The figure begins to live, the bow to 
 slowly move across the strings, and the marble instrument 
 to sound, " drawing out her soul like a spider's thread." The 
 statue bids her go with her lover. 
 
 Some years have past. It is autumn ; the dry leaves scuttle 
 drearily down the weedy garden paths. Two of the sisters are 
 dead, and Privacy, the last of them, has lived on alone, hoping 
 Prunella would come back. She is poor, and the house has 
 been bought by a mysterious rich gentleman. This day 
 he is to take possession. He enters, dressed in black ; 
 it is Lord Pierrot. He first deserted, and then he lost 
 Pierrette. He has come to live in " The Dutch Garden," that 
 he may, if possible, lay the ghost of his love. To-night he 
 has called his old companions round him to dispel his miser- 
 able regrets. They are withered and spiritless now, and it is 
 but a death's-head feast they can hold together. Pierrette, a 
 wandering beggar-girl, comes back, too, while they are eating 
 and drinking inside the house ; and after reproaching Love 
 for his deception, she falls asleep in the fountain basin. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 33 
 
 Pierrot, in an agony of self-reproach, acts over again the 
 window-scene of his wooing of Prunella and once more kneels 
 at the fountain. . . . For the last time the statue speaks, and 
 all is happy. 
 
 The actors seemed to enjoy their parts. They certainly 
 played most admirably. Miss Dorothy Minto was enraptur- 
 ing as Prunella, and Mr. Graham Browne's Pierrot was a work 
 of art. The music followed and expressed every turn of the 
 sentiment. 
 
 Before going on to the plays by foreign dramatists a word 
 must be said about Mr. Masefield's short play. The Campden 
 Wonder. It is a story taken from the history of Campden, 
 where in 1666 two men and their old mother were hung on 
 the confession, steadily adhered to, of one of the sons, that 
 they had murdered a man who afterwards turned out to be 
 alive. The motive of this murderous bit of perjury has never 
 been discovered. Mr. Masefield has invented a motive. The 
 elder, a drunken sot, is determined to degrade his mild, 
 steady brother. In the first scene the brothers quarrel ; this 
 scene is admirable : in the second he confesses before a 
 muddle-headed old parson : in the third all three are in gaol, 
 and one by one they are taken out and hanged. The wife of 
 the supposed victim arrives too late with the news that she 
 has seen her husband. The old woman whimpers dis- 
 tressingly, the young brother howls and pleads for his life, 
 and cries out for his wife and children, the elder (admirably 
 played by Mr. Norman McKinnel) hugs himself with a 
 kind of insane, sardonic rapture at his triumph. He has 
 stuck to his lie with a dogged, hulking stupidity — "For 
 3 
 
34 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 un's gowld un did it." His psychology, the presentation of 
 a mind in which malignity is mixed with the stupidity of 
 madness, is the author's best success. The dialogue of some 
 of the scenes is written with a force and directness which has 
 a marked aesthetic quality ; but the performance was not 
 satisfactory. 
 
 This piece, again, is most characteristic, in its merits and its 
 weakness, of the new school. Where is the plot } What is 
 the point } were the questions asked. The answer is that it 
 does not pretend to have either plot or moral ; it is simply a 
 tragic story and a piece of life — " and life, some think, is 
 worthy of the Muse." 
 
 [For the following account of a play which I missed I am indebted to 
 a friend.] 
 
 Votes for Women I by Miss Elizabeth Robins, was called 
 " a dramatic tract." The story of the play, which was almost 
 entirely confined to the first and third acts, was dramatic 
 indeed — even melodramatic ; but, as far as the propaganda of 
 the Woman Suffrage party are concerned, it probably dis- 
 appointed the most ardent supporters of the movement, who 
 would anticipate, from the use of the word " tract," that the 
 play would champion the demand for the extension of the 
 franchise. It did indeed do so, but indirectly, by including 
 that demand for "votes " in the more important demand for 
 " rights." Put shortly, the problem lay in the relations of the 
 three principal characters — relations by no means new to the 
 stage. Geoffrey Stonor, a man of rank and position in social 
 and parliamentary circles, affianced to Beatrice Dunbarton, a 
 young lady of his own standing, meets by accident Vida 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 35 
 
 Levering, with whom he had lived in earlier days. The last 
 act of the play is devoted to the re-adjustment of the relative 
 positions of these three characters, in the light of a complete 
 understanding on the part of each. 
 
 Written throughout with the customary cleverness of the 
 author, the play was chiefly remarkable for a brilliant piece of 
 realism in the second act. Author, stage-manager, and actors 
 combined to give a vivid representation of a suffragist meet- 
 ing in Trafalgar Square, which was applauded alike by those 
 who went to see a play and those who went to hear their 
 cause promoted. The working woman, the youthful enthu- 
 siast, and the male champion (one of Mr. Edmund Gwenn's 
 greatest triumphs) were all represented, and Vida Levering 
 (admirably played by Miss Wynne-Matthison) spoke from her 
 own sad experience. Most successful of all, however, was the 
 crowd on the stage, comprising every type of a Trafalgar 
 Square audience, and overflowing with the usual impromptu 
 comments — earnest, sarcastic, approving, flippant, intoxicated. 
 In short, this stage-audience represented the Chorus in a 
 Greek play more nearly than anything in English drama since 
 The Knight of the Burning Pestle, in as much as they gave 
 vent to the gnomic and critical remarks of the ordinary 
 spectator. 
 
 Foreign Plays 
 
 Aglavaine and Selysette was not impressive, though some- 
 times it was really moving. It is the story of a child-wife 
 whose husband meets a woman he can love more seriously. 
 Aglavaine and he both have a tender love or "little 
 
36 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Selysette ; " but they know their feelings for each other are 
 the best they have ever felt, and they hope that Selysette will 
 go on being happy in the kind of love her husband has 
 always given her, nor be pained by the sight of an intimacy 
 her nature cannot understand. But Selysette does understand 
 one thing — that she is in the way ; and so she jumps down 
 from a tower and is killed. Now it is absolutely necessary, 
 in order to feel what the author intends, that we should 
 believe the man and the woman to be very wonderful people ; 
 and the fault of the play is that we have to take this for 
 granted instead of being made to believe it. Both of them 
 do nothing but talk of their love, and kiss and pity " little 
 Selysette." Mr. Donald Tovey's music was beautiful. 
 
 Herr Schnitzler's play In the Hospital is a pure bit of 
 psychology. Karl Rademacher, an author, is dying in the 
 General Hospital. His last request is that a friend of his 
 youth, now a successful literary quack, should visit him. He 
 wants to revenge his failure by proving that he was the lover 
 of this man's wife, and that she knew him for the better man. 
 He works himself into such a frenzy of vindictive delight at 
 the thought of the blow he is going to strike at this sleek 
 humbug, that he almost dies. Mr. Beveridge acted with both 
 intensity and restraint. The literary man comes to his side 
 after the paroxysm, and Rademacher dies without telling 
 him a word, for when he sees him it does not seem worth 
 while, and then he has already slaked in imagination his 
 thirst for revenge. 
 
 The performance of The Wild Duck at the Court Theatre 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 37 
 
 was rather disappointing. Though each part was admirably 
 played, as a whole it was not so impressive as the perform- 
 ance of Herr Andresen's company at the German Theatre 
 last winter. This was due firstly to the actors taking some 
 scenes too fast, and secondly to the peculiarity of Mr. 
 Granville Barker's rendering of Hialmar, though in itself it 
 was an accomplished and consistent piece of acting. 
 
 His Hialmar Ekdal was a pitiable and ridiculous figure, 
 instead of a repulsive and ridiculous one ; for though many 
 may deny the harsh impeachment, Hialmar is a wide shot 
 that hits half the world. But that he should be represented 
 as disgusting, repulsive, revolting, as well as ridiculous, is 
 absolutely essential if the unity of the play is to be main- 
 tained. If any scene in The Wild Duck is played as simple 
 comedy, if your laughter is not always on the wrong side of 
 your mouth, the meaning of the play is obscured, and the 
 suicide of Hedvig at the end will seem the wilful work of a 
 morbid pessimist who sets down things in malice. 
 
 Ibsen's work seems that of a man who started life self- 
 distrusting, modest, and ready to admire, and found out at 
 last that men whom he thought better were in reality worse 
 than himself. There is a kind of hard pity in this play which 
 speaks most distinctly in the mouth of Relling, who has kept 
 alive that modicum of self-respect necessary to life in the 
 poor wrecks of humanity he meets, by fostering in them what 
 he calls their " life illusions." Ibsen allows no good nature in 
 art, and the fault we have to find with Mr. Barker's in- 
 terpretation is that it is too good-natured. He played 
 Hialmar as though he were a creation of the relenting and 
 vivacious satire of Mr. Shaw, who is always careful to let 
 
38 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 every character state his case, to lend him the brains of a 
 devil's advocate for the occasion, and not only to show the 
 very pulse of the machine but to lecture to the audience upon 
 its working. Though it would be absurd to say that Mr. 
 Barker intentionally took the audience into his confidence, 
 he often emphasized too consciously the ironic intentions of 
 the dramatist. If Hedvig at the end had emerged from the 
 sliding doors of the garret and made an irrefutable little 
 speech, asserting her intention to get a comfortable settle- 
 ment out of Werle, and explaining that her father did not 
 really care two straws whose child she was, it would not have 
 been very incongruous with the spirit in which some of the 
 scenes were played. No, that is saying too much ; but if 
 this statement is taken with a large pinch of salt, readers of 
 the play will get an idea of what was disappointing in the 
 performance of many fine bits of acting. 
 
 Mr. George, as old Ekdal, was good, especially in the first 
 act, when Hialmar, Gregers (the idealist), and he are drinking 
 their beer together. His tipsy winks and dark hints that his 
 hunting days are not over, his determination that very night 
 to show the garret, with its strange contents, withered Christmas 
 trees, sleeping fowls and rabbits, and the cherished wild duck 
 snug in her basket, all these were admirable. The group 
 round the garret door, the mysterious moonlit peep within, 
 the old man with upraised lamp, his proud chuckling replies 
 to the guests' astonished questions, Hialmar's simulated in- 
 difference, and the child's eager explanations made up a 
 scene not easy to forget; while in the foreground sat the 
 anxious, silent woman, who keeps these creatures fed and 
 housed, hugging her shawl about her with a shiver, feeling. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 39 
 
 not understanding, the shame and shirking which such 
 substitutes for real life mean. 
 
 Miss Agnes Thomas was the best English Gina I remember. 
 The only criticism which can be made upon her interpreta- 
 tion, which was complete in itself, is that it is not the most 
 interesting one possible. She emphasized the impatience 
 which can be read into Gina's replies ; but these are most 
 impressive when they are spoken passively in self-defence. 
 The Gina most worth acting is the Gina who, padding about 
 in her felt slippers, never doubts for a moment that she should 
 do everything for those she loves, and, unless she is defending 
 her husband from criticism, which she is quick to scent far off, 
 dimly feels what Relling the philosopher understands; and 
 to act her thus the superficial comedy of her clumsy simplicity 
 must never quite distract attention from the delicacy of her 
 nature, which finds expression in that moving exclamation 
 when Hedvig lies dead, while Hialmar rants over her, and 
 Relling looks down at her with professional detachment, 
 "The child mustn't lie here for a show." 
 
 One moment Miss Thomas succeeded in stamping on the 
 imagination with a force no actress could have bettered ; the 
 moment when she rounds on Hialmar's petulant, bullying 
 questions about Hedvig's parentage with " I don't know — 
 how can I tell — a creature like me?" In her voice and 
 gesture you felt indignation, revolt, and shame. This was 
 Hialmar's best scene, too, unless he was as admirable when 
 he repulsed Hedvig, with hysterical gesticulations of abhor- 
 rence, and dashed like a maniac from the house. Miss 
 Dorothy Minto's Hedvig was particularly good. But she 
 missed expressing to the full the blank dismay of horror 
 
40 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Hedvig must have felt, when her sulky father, looking into 
 the sitting-room the morning after his debauch, tells her to 
 get out, and holds the door open, glowering soddenly at her, 
 without a word. It is the last time she sees her father, and 
 she cannot understand. That walk across the stage to the 
 kitchen is an important incident, if we are to be convinced 
 that Hedvig would have shot herself 
 
 Mr. Lang's Relling could have only been improved in one 
 respect, which was not in his power to remedy. In casting 
 the part of Relling, I believe the important quality to look 
 for in the personality of the actor is his voice. As this may 
 seem a fanciful flight of criticism, it is necessary to explain ; 
 for it rests on a conception of the character which may not 
 be shared. Relling has been described by Brandes as a 
 humorous personification of Ibsen himself, and certainly the 
 moral of the piece speaks through his mouth ; but this 
 definition of him is far from the truth. He, too, has gone 
 to seed, though he remains a sort of doctor still, and still 
 can help the spiritually sick by hiding their natures from 
 their own eyes ; that is his universal remedy. But the secret 
 of his peculiar blend of bitter tenderness and cynical leniency 
 lies in his own character. If you met him you would see in 
 his eyes that he had defrauded his own soul. Now, you 
 cannot get an impression from a person on the stage in that 
 subtle way ; but you can hear it in a voice. The actor, then, 
 to play Relling is a man whose voice contrasts oddly, dis- 
 agreeably, though sometimes the sound of it brings a sense 
 of relief, with the grating things he says. This is a personal 
 impression, of course, and must be taken for what it is worth. 
 You should hear something like despair in his voice, however 
 
/ « 
 
 THE COURT THEATRE 41 
 
 trenchant and contemptuous his manner of speaking' when he 
 pronounces his famous dictum, " Life would be quite tolerable 
 if only we could get rid of the confounded duns that keep on 
 pestering us in our poverty with the claims of the ideal." 
 
 Many think The Wild Duck the best of Ibsen's prose 
 dramas. There is certainly none which shows a completer 
 mastery of stage craft. It must have astonished his admirers 
 when it first appeared ; for it looks like a satire on his own 
 philosophy. It is an assault on ** Ibsenites," on men and 
 women who think that to blurt out the truth and destroy 
 everything which has an alloy of compromise and sham in 
 it, is the sure remedy for social and private evils. Nothing 
 Ibsen has written makes us respect him more. He had 
 always declared that, "What is wanted is a revolution in 
 the spirit of man ; " in this play he faces the reformer's worst 
 trial, the conviction of the fundamental weakness of human 
 nature. 
 
 The performance of Hedda Gabler was better than that of 
 The Wild Duck. It is seldom so remarkable a play is so 
 remarkably acted. Mrs. Patrick Campbell's acting of Hedda 
 was not one hair's-breadth out. Hedda, as a character, strikes 
 us as at once monstrous and familiar. She is a woman who 
 considers herself deplacee^ not merely by having married out 
 of a fast, fashionable set, and taken a humdrum bookish 
 man, with irritating little habits, for a husband; but one 
 who considers herself deplacee in the world itself She is 
 bored to death, like Madame Bovary — the marvel is that 
 the psychology of Flaubert's novel is compressed into this 
 astonishing play — but, unlike Emma Bovary, having experi- 
 enced the delights of the children of leisure and pleasure 
 
42 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 she cherishes no illusions about them. " She has danced till 
 she was tired." The whole of life appears to her mean and 
 wretched, child-bearing a particularly odious humiliation, 
 Jove a fraud, and even an illicit intrigue too " banal " to have 
 any attraction. She prides herself on her boredom, lassitude 
 and disgust, taking them for signs of an aristocratic spirit, 
 which the experiences of vulgar souls can never satisfy. 
 Living in a permanent condition of sulky conceit, her only 
 pleasure lies in swaggering ; and since her circumstances are 
 too narrow for display, she falls back on inflicting petty 
 humiliations on those in her power, like her aunt Nora. It 
 follows from this sullen arrogance that the one thing she 
 cannot bear the thought of is — humiliation ; hence her dread 
 of scandal, of being mixed up in anything shameful and 
 sordid, like Lovborg's death ; hence the power of Judge 
 Brack's threat to involve her in it ; hence her preference for 
 suicide to remaining at his mercy ; hence, too, the explana- 
 tion of her never having yielded to an attraction for Lovborg 
 or for any other man. Her ruling passion prevents her ever 
 giving herself away. She could only marry a man she 
 despised. This stupid, sullen conceit is like a wall dividing 
 her from life ; she cannot throw herself into anything without 
 dispelling her cherished illusion of superiority ; she is only 
 safe in acting upon others from a superior height. She is 
 envious and loves power ; she therefore drags Lovborg down 
 out of a kind of cold malignity, warmed by a little jealousy 
 of Mrs. Elvsted, much as lago's dispassionate hatred is just 
 touched by a little lust for Desdemona. Like lago, she is a 
 kind of inarticulate playwright, too stupid to imagine, who 
 gratifies at once a longing for power and a love of excitement 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 43 
 
 by using human beings as puppets. This is the source of 
 Hedda's impulse to make Lovborg drink, that she may see 
 him " with vine-leaves in his hair," and to shoot himself, that 
 she may know that " beautiful actions " are possible. 
 
 Mrs. Patrick Campbell became this character to the life. 
 It speaks wonders for the Court Theatre management that 
 she did not act the others off the stage. 
 
 Mr. Trevor Lowe, as George Tesman, Hedda's husband, 
 was excellent, and Mr. James Hearn's Judge Brack was a 
 good piece of careful acting. Lovborg's entrance the morning 
 after the debauch, in which he has lost his manuscript and his 
 self-respect, was most impressive. Mr. Laurence Irving can, 
 as the phrase is, " look volumes." It is a rare power ; and 
 this faculty, of standing silently and suggesting in attitude 
 and face an intense state of emotion, is perhaps the most 
 remarkable of his talents. 
 
 Two defects came out in the play ; one of them is an 
 unlikely bit of human nature, the other is a defect which the 
 inevitable compression of the dramatic form forces on Ibsen. 
 The latter is interesting from the point of view of discussions 
 upon the drama in general, because it illustrates one of the 
 chief difficulties of the psychological playwright. The first 
 is this. When Hedda tells Tesman that she has destroyed 
 Lovborg's manuscript, and explains (lying, of course) that 
 she did it because she could not bear any one to write better 
 than her husband, she succeeds in preventing him from 
 questioning her, and, indeed, from thinking any more about 
 it, by hinting that she is going to have a child. Tesman at 
 once approaches her with uxorious tenderness, and forgets all 
 about the destruction of a manuscript. Now news of the 
 
44 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 description Hedda conveys would not drive out of any 
 husband's head the fact that his wife had just burnt a work 
 of genius; but far less out of Tesman's, who was a book- 
 minded man. He prides himself on having proper family 
 feelings; but his heart is in his dog-like reverence for men 
 of intellectual power. It is more probable that he would 
 have exclaimed : " Oh, Hedda, dear, fancy that ! " and gone 
 on pressing her with questions and exclaiming about the 
 destruction of Lovborg's book. 
 
 The second incident that seems unnatural, is Mrs. Elvsted 
 sitting down with Tesman to reconstruct the book imme- 
 diately after hearing of Lovborg's death. It is very likely 
 that she should find consolation in this work and marry 
 Tesman over it; but since she was devoted enough to run 
 away from her children and brave a scandal in order to keep 
 an eye on Lovborg while he was under temptation, it is not 
 likely that she would recover in a few minutes from the news 
 of his death. But Ibsen wishes to show the future, and a 
 single incident is all he has time for. Thus, in order to 
 indicate a development psychologically sound, he is driven 
 to represent one of his characters acting in a way which is 
 psychologically false. This is the dilemma that lies in wait 
 for the psychological dramatist at every turn. 
 
 Tpie Thieves' Comedy 
 
 How the southern Germans, the mild, reflective schwdr- 
 merish Germans, who love to drink their yellow wine and 
 brown beer in sunny arbours, who made the songs, and spun 
 the long philosophies, and invented the dusty romance of 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 45 
 
 gigantic erudition, who sit now with melancholy inertia, while 
 unphilosophic, humourless, musicless, pedantic Prussia, with 
 clicking-heels and twitched-up moustachios, stamps romance 
 and individuality out of their country, — how they must have 
 enjoyed the stinging satire of this play ! True, the realism of 
 Frau Wolffs home in the forest, with her hulking husband, 
 and the two frisky young girls, who evidently would rather 
 kiss than spin, may not have been much to their taste; but 
 the egregious Von Wehrhahn, the Emperor-worshipping 
 magistrate, who is so bent on scenting out socialism and 
 sedition that he insults the witnesses and lets thief and 
 receiver escape from under his nose — he must have been a 
 savoury dish ! 
 
 The satire is delightful to us, who are detached, and the 
 whole play impressively amusing. Miss Filippi acted the part 
 of Frau Wolff, the thieving, indefatigable, imperturbably 
 plausible housewife, extraordinarily well. Who can help 
 liking so cheerful, capable, and sensible a woman ? One's 
 sympathies in the matter of the stolen fire-wood and fur coat 
 are violently on her side. Glasenapp (Mr. Norman Page), the 
 old clerk, perched on a high stool in front of an unwieldy 
 ledger, with his plaintive voice and wheedling laughter, faint 
 like the crackle of old parchments, might have come out of or 
 have gone into a novel of Dickens just as he was. The 
 Thieves' Comedy is one of those plays that stay in the mind as 
 a series of pictures. Here is one which has kept its colours in 
 mine for two years. 
 
 It is quite late, and dark outside the Wolffs' cottage. 
 Wulkoff, the barge-man (poacher and receiver as well), has 
 just come in to bargain for a stolen deer. Frau Wolff 
 
46 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 bustles about her housework as though she did not care two 
 scraps about the matter, repeating her offer in loud cheerful 
 decided voice, as he climbs sulkily up the ladder of prices. 
 Suddenly a call, melancholy and prolonged like the howl of 
 a dog, is heard outside the window. 
 
 " Frau Wolff, Frau Wo-ol-ff." Whist ! they stop talking ; 
 out goes the light ; sack and deer are crammed away ; " Frau 
 Wo-o-olf:" she goes to the door with an air of astonished 
 cheery welcome, and, after an interval during which a theft 
 of firewood is planned — Mitteldorf, the policeman, comes in ! 
 Now no pen can suggest to any one who has not seen Mr. 
 Harry Dodd as Mitteldorf what a smashing anticlimax this 
 is ! The hair at the back of your head has been gently 
 raised by that awful tapering cry outside the black window, 
 and by the guilty whispering hurry of the inmates ; and 
 then — Mitteldorf appears ! Mitteldorf is the stupidest man 
 ever seen on the stage. On this occasion, the night of his 
 understanding is further obscured by a slight haze of beer, and 
 he stidders himself on his heels, for a moment, before stepping 
 in. Frau Wolff is in the habit of selling him a good many of 
 the eggs and other petty filchings, which he spends his days in 
 trying to trace ; to-night, he has come in for a chat. I 
 don't think he actually sits down on the deer, and after 
 helping to harness the sleigh, which is destined to carry off 
 the firewood, he goes away. 
 
 Not having seen Mr. Harry Dodd in any other parts, I 
 cannot judge the scope of his powers, but his Mitteldorf was 
 the performance of a perfect comedian. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 Mr. Bernard Shaw is a difficult subject for criticism : 
 there is so much to discuss, and yet so much has been already 
 said; there are so many interesting things to say about his 
 work which are not quite true, and so many true things which 
 are not interesting; and to crown all, he has explained himself 
 many times. But since his plays are far the most important 
 dramatic contributions the Court Theatre has received, and 
 since its celebrity and success is rooted in them, the critical 
 commentator must give him the largest share of attention. 
 I propose, therefore, in this chapter, to discuss first the 
 characters in these plays ; secondly, the treatment of the 
 emotions in them ; and thirdly (in the last chapter) to give 
 a separate account of each play and its performance. 
 
 His Characters 
 
 There is one characteristic of Mr. Shaw's imaginative work 
 which, oddly enough, has not been commented upon ; perhaps 
 it has been considered too obvious for comment. It is the 
 exceptional variety and vividness of his characters. They 
 have, too, a peculiar quality, which makes them stay in the 
 memory, and enables them to pass, like the types of Dickens, 
 into conversation. For instance, 'Enery Straker, Prossy, 
 Broadbent, "B. B.," Ann (to rob her of that philosophic 
 
 47 
 
48 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 universality which her creator claims for her), all possess this 
 quality. Once seen on the stage, they become types in the 
 spectator's imagination, approximations to which he is con- 
 stantly meeting in real life. Any one, for instance, would 
 be understood directly who said, " I travelled up in the train 
 to-day with a little mechanic — a sort of 'Enery Straker." 
 Such characters are drawn by constantly bringing into relief 
 one distinguishing feature, too complex perhaps to be defined, 
 in such a way that the imagination instinctively supplies all 
 the other qualities. It is the triumph of the playwright to 
 achieve this intense simplification, and if the Shavian theatre 
 is compared with the work of other modern playwrights in 
 this respect, its superiority is overwhelmingly apparent. 
 
 In psychological observation, Mr. Shaw has a caricaturist's 
 quickness in seizing the salient feature ; but this is combined 
 in him with a constant sense that the stuff of human nature 
 is much the same in every one. The kind of distinctness 
 which his characters possess differs, consequently, from the 
 distinctness which the old school of psychological dramatists 
 achieved. They were always seeking for " the ruling passion " 
 in their men and women, and making them act accordingly, 
 thus in effect dividing mankind into species — the proud man, 
 the miser, the libertine, etc. Mr. Shaw emphasizes, on the 
 other hand, that men are at bottom swayed by the same 
 common impulses, and that their behaviour is generally what 
 circumstances, education, and the treatment they receive from 
 others at the moment make it ; he never fails, therefore, to 
 suggest that society is responsible for their misdeeds as well 
 as for their oddities. As a social reformer, he has theorized 
 upon and analyzed the effect of this or that social environ- 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 49 
 
 ment on life and character ; as an artist he has always been 
 preoccupied with human nature. These two preoccupations, 
 working together, have enabled him to seize with extra- 
 ordinary quickness the traces which a particular manner of 
 living leave on a personality. His figures are often exag- 
 gerated ; but in nine instances out of ten they are saved 
 from being pointlessly fantastic by the fact that they are 
 closely linked with social conditions. As a propagandist, 
 again, he has perpetually been in violent collision with many 
 people holding different points of view; and as an observer 
 he has noted the particular mental, physical, and social 
 characteristics which usually go with particular ways of look- 
 ing at the world. Such experience is of the utmost value 
 to the dramatist ; for drama depends upon the clash between 
 characters who embody different points of view. If on both 
 sides the difference is one of conflicting desires, that is one 
 kind of drama; but it becomes far more interesting when 
 the opposing wills represent whole groups of ideas by which 
 many men hold and live. Such is the interest of the contest 
 between the poet and the parson, over which Candida stands 
 as umpire ; of the discussions between Larry and Broadbent, 
 and of the blind meUe at the end of the play between them 
 and Father Keegan ; of the explosive interview between 
 Roebuck and Tanner : of the sharp passage-of-arms between 
 Undershaft and '' the honest poor man " Peter Shirley, and 
 of many other spirited encounters. In all these scenes, what 
 impresses us is the hammer-and-tongs vigour with which each 
 combatant stands up for his side, and the natural congruity — 
 not inconsistency, often it is far otherwise — of his outlook with 
 the sort of person his general behaviour shows him to be. 
 4 
 
50 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Mr. Shaw is the most striking refutation of the notion that 
 an artist gets the best work out of himself when he holds 
 aloof from the social and religious questions of his day ; the 
 artist in him owes an enormous debt to the reformer. 
 
 Those characters which strike us as exceptional rather 
 than typical have the same distinctions. Among them Tanner, 
 Valentine, Charteris, and Undershaft are particularly interest- 
 ing to the analyst, because they combine in varying degrees 
 the temperament and opinions which tell most in Mr. Shaw's 
 writings when he speaks for himself. Tanner and Undershaft 
 have definite systematic views upon morals and politics and 
 human nature; and though Valentine and Charteris have 
 not, they are all four "realists," that is to say, they are 
 not under what Mr. Shaw considers "romantic illusions." 
 Valentine and Charteris would be easy converts to the com- 
 plete doctrine. Valentine shares the fate of Tanner in being 
 swallowed up in matrimony ; but though he betrays a flutter 
 of trepidation before the persistence of the young woman, 
 whose feelings he has just taken by storm, he evidently has 
 never had the true inward horror of his frightful predicament 
 clearly revealed to him. Poor Charteris has even some 
 misgivings about his escape from a similar quandary. It is 
 true there is a touch of irony in his lament upon losing 
 Grace Tranfield, which betrays a glimmering of philosophy ; 
 but there is also more than a trace of regret : Grace Tranfield 
 was not such a one as Ann Whitefield. 
 
 " Yes ; this is the doom of the philanderer. I shall have 
 to go on philandering now all my life. No domesticity, no 
 fireside, no little ones — nothing at all in Cuthbertson's line." 
 The irony here has two edges. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 51 
 
 But there is a second quality common to all these leading 
 characters, unmistakable but harder to describe. It is a 
 temperamental quality, which, by the way, makes these parts 
 extremely hard to act : they are always on the verge of a 
 state of lyrical excitement. Sometimes it takes the form of 
 a sudden towering of high spirits, sometimes of a good-natured 
 combative ecstasy, sometimes of explosive indignation. It 
 differs in each character, but in all it is the same kind of 
 emotion — a sudden sense of freedom and certainty, bringing 
 with it sudden fluency and emphasis of speech, and a feeling 
 of immunity and detachment, which is at the same time a 
 state of extreme emotional mobility. Undershaft takes such 
 moments very solemnly, he is certain he is " saved " ; to 
 Valentine they are whiffs of blind exhilarating joy ; to the 
 poet in Candida (who has the temperamental quality but 
 does not share the opinions) they are inspirations ; to Cusins 
 (who also does not hold them) they are the moments when 
 as a philosophic juggler he can keep all his bowls and basins 
 spinning their fastest, when he can remember the point of 
 twenty creeds at once, and of his love for Barbara into the 
 bargain. To Tanner they are opportunities for psychological 
 declamation. 
 
 All authors of merit give to their creations an excess of 
 some characteristic which is dominant in themselves. Thus 
 Mr. Meredith's characters are filled to an unnatural degree 
 with the beauty and courage of life ; Balzac gives to his a 
 treble dose of will and appetite ; the men and women in 
 Mr. James's novels, the stupid as well as the intelligent, show 
 a far subtler power of perception than such men and women 
 would actually have. In the same way, Mr. Shaw gives to 
 
52 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 many of his principal characters temperaments which are 
 marked by both extreme mobility and extreme detachment. 
 
 Sometimes this gift of himself on the part of a writer is 
 more obviously diffused over the whole of his work than 
 concentrated in characters. The Tempest^ and, to add a 
 modern example, some of the novels of Mr. Thomas Hardy, 
 are instances. This is what ] we mean by creating " an 
 atmosphere," when we use that word in a sense of high 
 aesthetic praise, and not simply in order to indicate that the 
 author has succeeded in giving us the sensation of particular 
 scenes or surroundings. In this Mr. Shaw's work (though 
 he is extremely skilful in creating *' atmosphere " in the 
 other sense) is deficient, and consequently it is not sufficiently 
 admired by people whose perceptions are quick to see its 
 other merits, but who delight above all things in this quality. 
 His plays, with the exception, perhaps, of You Never Can 
 Tellj are the outcome of his imagination working along the 
 lines which his opinions have already laid down, rather than 
 free expressions of his artistic temperament ; with the result 
 that those plays are the best to the making of which has 
 gone the most hard, consistent thinking ; and those in which 
 the underlying thought is indistinct are, as wholes, very 
 inferior to passages and characters in them — and, indeed, 
 sometimes inferior to the work of inferior writers. 
 
 With regard to the characters which are neither " types " 
 nor combinations, in varying proportions, of his own views 
 and temperament, there are two obvious points to notice. 
 Firstly, that all the women are astonishingly real — and how 
 few dramatists can draw more than one kind of woman well ! 
 Candida, Nora Reilly, Lady Cecily Waynflete, Mrs. Clandon, 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 53 
 
 Lady Britomart, are as different as possible ; yet we know- 
 how they would behave under any circumstances. Secondly, 
 the completeness with which such characters as Larry Doyle 
 (a very subtle study), William the waiter, the Rev. James 
 Morell are presented, and the distinctness of such minor 
 figures as Crampton, Mrs. Whitefield, Father Dempsey, 
 Roebuck Ramsden, Barney Doran, Mr. Malone the elder, 
 and Octavius Robinson. 
 
 If the reader will review in imagination all the personages 
 mentioned in this section, he will find it hard to parallel in 
 any other dramatist a list of characters so various, so new 
 to the stage, so easy to recognize and to remember. 
 
 His Treatment of Emotion 
 
 Next to the force with which original characters are pre- 
 sented, the most noticeable feature in Mr. Shaw's work is 
 his treatment of emotion, and especially of sexual emotion. 
 What first strikes us in the Shavian theatre is, perhaps, the 
 frequency of excited scenes, of explosive arguments, violent 
 protestations, gesticulations and agitations. Apart from the 
 frequency of abstract discussions and the vigour of the 
 dialogue there would be nothing very strange in this excite- 
 ment, were not the passions and emotions, so violently 
 displayed, represented as being also startlingly brief. This 
 emphasis upon brevity of emotions is very characteristic, 
 and one cause of the charge of cynicism which is so often 
 brought against him. The typical scene is one in which the 
 characters are represented in violent states of moral indig- 
 nation, rage, perplexity, mortification, infatuation, despair. 
 
54 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 which subside as suddenly as they rise. The Shavian hero 
 is a man who does not take all this hubble-bubble for more 
 than it is worth. He preserves an exasperating good humour 
 through it, however energetic his retorts may be, because he 
 reckons on human nature being moved, in the long run, only 
 by a few fundamental considerations and instincts. The 
 hostility which he excites does not therefore trouble him the 
 least. He counts upon the phenomenon, ultimately working 
 in his favour, that puzzles Tanner in himself when confronted 
 with Ann ; that is, upon the contradiction between moral 
 judgments and instinctive likings and respect. Valentine is 
 not dismayed by Gloria's disapproval, nor Bluntschli by 
 Raina's contempt for his lack of conventionally soldier-like 
 qualities ; both are confident that the ultimate decisions of 
 these ladies will depend on other things. Even Tanner soon 
 finds himself on excellent terms with Roebuck Ramsden, 
 who began by abusing him as an infamous fellow. But it is 
 not only the fact, that the confidence of the "realists" is 
 always justified in the plays, which emphasizes the instability 
 of human emotions and judgments ; it is one of the funda- 
 mental assumptions with regard to human nature which lie 
 at the back of the plays themselves. It is one of the chief 
 causes, too, v/hy they are regarded as fantastic ; for the 
 normal instability of emotion has hitherto found very little 
 reflection in literature or on the stage ; vacillations, flaggings, 
 changes of mind and inconsequences of thought having been 
 generally confined to characters intended to be obviously weak. 
 But Mr. Shaw represents, quite truly, characters of consider- 
 able firmness in many respects as subject to them. 
 
 In common with all writers of comedy he depends for his 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 55 
 
 effects upon the contradictions between what people say they 
 believe and how they act ; but for his surprises and fun he 
 draws more than most writers on the normal instability of 
 feeling. 
 
 A great deal of comedy rests upon the weakness of emotions 
 and aspirations in conflict with the instincts and necessities ; 
 a hungry lover, for instance, thinking more of his breakfast 
 than his mistress, is a comic figure ; so is an indignant 
 husband being petted into acquiescence. But whether we 
 laugh happily or not at such scenes, depends upon the spirit 
 in which they are treated. If this spirit is one of censure 
 and contempt for the weakness of emotion, the scene becomes 
 satire at once ; but if the scene is presented in such a way 
 that we recognize the infirmity of human nature, which never- 
 theless still seems lovable, it remains comedy ; and comedy 
 may include anything from the most boisterous fun to the 
 tenderest irony. Mr. Shaw's plays are a curious mixture 
 between comedy and satire. The spirit that prevails in them 
 is usually one of remorseless scrutiny into the sincerity and 
 consistency of emotions and motives, and therefore one of 
 satire ; but the severity of the decision in each individual 
 case is considerably mitigated by the fact that practically 
 every one else is also found guilty, so that the general impres- 
 sion is that of comedy. He puzzles people by appearing at 
 the same time very hard on human nature, and very indulgent 
 to it. His own explanation of the matter is that his ethics 
 are different from the current morality. He says, in effect, 
 " If I were to judge you all by the standards your own 
 conscience sets up, which by the bye you are always revoking 
 with extraordinary inconsistency, I should have to condemn 
 
56 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 you all as more or less worthless ; however, I do not judge 
 you according to these principles, but by others of my own." 
 What these are will become clearer when we are examining 
 the plays one by one. 
 
 Meanwhile, if "ira" is represented in these plays as a 
 ** brevis furor," what is " amor " ? In his preface to Man and 
 Superman, Mr. Shaw says that "though we have plenty of 
 dramas with heroes and heroines who are in love and must 
 accordingly marry or perish at the end of the play, or about 
 people whose relations with one another have been compli- 
 cated by the marriage laws, not to mention the looser sort of 
 plays which trade on the tradition that illicit love affairs are 
 at once vicious and delightful, we have no modern English 
 plays in which the natural attraction of the sexes for one 
 another is made the mainspring of the action. . . . What 
 is the usual formula for such plays ? A woman has on some 
 past occasion been brought into conflict with the law that 
 regulates the relations of the sexes. A man by falling in 
 love with her, or marrying her, is brought into conflict with 
 the social convention which discountenances the woman. 
 Now the conflicts of individuals with law and convention 
 can be dramatized like all other human conflicts ; but they 
 are purely judicial." The reason why such plays are usually 
 so depressing and uninteresting, he argues, is that they are at 
 bottom utterly sexless. We are really more interested in the 
 relations between the man and the woman, which are slurred 
 over, than in the relations between both and the law. 
 
 Elsewhere,^ however, he has complained that the attraction 
 
 1 The Preface to Plays for Puritans. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 57 
 
 of the sexes for one another has been made far too much of 
 as " the mainspring of the action ; " everything the hero ever 
 does being represented as done for the sake of the woman he 
 loves. His quarrel with modern English dramatists is then, 
 first, that they represent a passion which is only all-powerful 
 in day-dreams as pervasively effective in practical affairs ; 
 and secondly, that they do not represent the nature of this 
 passion directly and frankly. His own plays are not open 
 to either objection. In Man and Superman he set out pur- 
 posely to write a play in which sexual attraction should be 
 the main interest ; but in his other plays also he has always 
 made the nature of the attraction between his characters quite 
 clear. What is remarkable about the scenes in which this is 
 done, is the extent to which sexual passion is isolated from 
 all other sentiments and emotions. His lovers, instead of 
 using the language of admiration and affection, in which this 
 passion is so often cloaked, simply convey by their words 
 the kind of mental tumult they are in. Sexual attraction is 
 stript bare of all the accessories of poetry and sympathy. 
 It is represented as it is by itself, with its own peculiar 
 romance, but with none of the feelings which may, and often 
 do. accompany it. Take for example the scene between 
 Valentine and Gloria in You Never Can Tell. 
 
 Gloria {uneasily, rising). Let us go back to the beach. v 
 
 Valentine {darkly — looking up at her). What ! you feel it too ? 
 
 Gloria. Feel what ? 
 
 Valentine. Dread. 
 
 Gloria. Dread! 
 
 Valentine. As if something were going to happen. It came over me 
 suddenly just before you proposed that we should run away to the 
 others. 
 
58 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Gloria {ainazed). That's strange— very strange! I had the same 
 presentiment. 
 
 Valentine. How extraordinary ! {Rismg). Well : shall we run away? 
 
 Gloria. Run away ! Oh no : that would be childish. {She sits down 
 again. He resumes his seat beside her^ and watches her with a gravely 
 sympathetic air. She is thoughtful and a little troubled as she adds) I 
 wonder what is the scientific explanation of those fancies that cross us 
 occasionally ! 
 
 Valentine. Ah, I wonder ! It's a curiously helpless sensation : 
 isn't it? 
 
 Gloria {rebelling against the word). Helpless ? 
 
 Valentine. Yes. As if Nature, after allowing us to belong to our- 
 selves and do what we judged right and reasonable for all these years, 
 were suddenly lifting her great hand to take us — her two little children— 
 by the scruffs of our little necks, and use us, in spite. of ourselves, for her 
 own purposes, in her own way. 
 
 Valentine. . . . Oh, I know you mustn't tell me whether you like 
 me or not : but 
 
 Gloria {her principles 2ip in arms at once). Must not ? Why not ? I 
 am a free woman : why should I not tell you ? 
 
 Y MJE^Tn!^^ {pleading in terror and retreating). Don't. I'm afraid to 
 hear. 
 
 Gloria {jio longer scornful). You need not be afraid. I think you are 
 sentimental and a little foolish ; but I like you. 
 
 Valentine {dropping into the iron chair as if crushed). Then it's 
 all over. {He becomes the picture of despair^ 
 
 Gloria {puzzled^ approachijtg him). But why ? 
 
 Valentine. Because liking is not enough. Now that [I think down 
 into it seriously, I don't know whether I like you or not. 
 
 Gloria {looking down at him with wondering concern). I'm sorry. 
 
 Valentine {in an agony of restrained passion). Oh, don't pity me. 
 Your voice is tearing my heart to pieces. Let me alone, Gloria. You 
 go down into the very depths of me, troubling and stirring me — I can't 
 struggle with it — I can't tell you 
 
 Gloria {breaking down suddenly). Oh, stop telling me what you feel : 
 I can't bear it. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 59 
 
 Valentine {springmg up triumphantly^ the agonised voice now solid^ 
 ringing and jubilant). Ah, it's come at last— my moment of courage. 
 {He seizes her hands: she looks at him in terror.) Our moment of 
 courage ! {He draws her to him, and kisses her with impetuous strength, 
 and laughs boyishly) Now you've done it, Gloria. It's all over : we're 
 in love with one another. {She can only gasp at him) But what a dragon 
 you were ! And how hideously afraid I was ! 
 
 Turn now to the final scene between Ann and Tanner : 
 
 Tanner. The will is yours then ! The trap was laid from the 
 beginning. y 
 
 Ann {concentrating all her magic). From the beginning— from our ^ 
 
 childhood— for both of us — by the Life Force. 
 
 Tanner. I will not marry you. I will not marry you. 
 
 Ann. Oh, you will, you will. 
 
 Tanner. I tell you, no, no, no. 
 
 Ann. I tell you, yes, yes, yes. 
 
 Tanner. No. 
 
 Ann {coaxing — imploring — almost exhausted). Yes. Before it is too 
 late for repentance. Yes. 
 
 Th'^^'K^ {struck by the echo from the past). When did all this happen 
 to me before ? Are we two dreaming ? 
 
 Ann {suddenly losing her courage, with an anguish that she does not 
 conceal). No. We are awake ; and you have said no : that is all. 
 
 Tanner {brutally). Well ? 
 
 Ann. Well, I made a mistake : you do not love me. 
 
 Tanner {seizing her in his arms). It is false : I love you. The Life 
 Force enchants me : I have the whole wbrld in my arms when I clasp 
 you. But I am fighting for my freedom, my honor, for my self, one and 
 indivisible. 
 
 In both these scenes sexual attraction is isolated and 
 separated from feelings of affection and admiration. The 
 only difference between them is that Tanner struggles to 
 hold himself back and Valentine goes in headlong. The 
 amorous experiences of the Philanderer, of Blanche and 
 
6o THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Trench {Widowers' Houses\ of Frank and Vivie {Mrs 
 WarrerHs Profession) are treated in exactly the same manner ; 
 only in these cases the lover does not analyze or understand 
 his own emotion. This emotion must be distinguished from 
 lust on the one hand, and from love on the other ; for in the 
 first place, it is imaginative as well as sensual, an excitement 
 of the mind as well as of the body — of the whole living being 
 in fact — and, in the second, it does not include a desire for the 
 other person's welfare, nor the conscious contemplation of 
 what is good. Valentine and Tanner know that it is a brief 
 or very intermittent emotion, that it has nothing to do with 
 a perception of the beauty of mind or character ; hardly, in 
 Tanner's case, with a perception of bodily beauty : Ann's 
 looks were not the kind of beauty which signified much to 
 him. Like his prototype Don Juan when in love, his ear and 
 eye probably tore her voice and looks to pieces ; like him he 
 could say, " My judgment was not corrupted : my brain still 
 said no on every issue. And whilst I was in the act of fram- 
 ing my excuses to the lady. Life seized me and threw me into 
 her arms as a sailor throws a scrap of fish into the mouth of a 
 sea-bird." ^ 
 
 The merit of all these scenes is that they convey with 
 perfect clearness the emotion which possesses the characters 
 so that it is recognized at once as a real one, and one which 
 has been sentimentally identified with other emotions to the 
 devastation of literature and the confusion of life. The 
 artistic merit of such work requires no comment, and its social 
 importance lies in helping people to distinguish better between 
 their emotions and therefore to walk more surefootedly 
 ^ Don Juan in Hell (Act III. of Man and Superman as published). 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 6i 
 
 through life. But at this point Mr. Shaw's pecuh'ar bias 
 comes in. His principal intellectual failing, so it seems to 
 me, is to exaggerate the stupidity of mankind. No other 
 writer, not even Carlyle or Tolstoi, appears so convinced that 
 the mistakes and confusions of thought, of which men are 
 guilty, are an absurd, glaring, staring set of elementary 
 blunders. So with regard to the emotion of love, he says in 
 so many words — " You have idealized and sentimentalized 
 love. I will show you what that emotion is. Come, rub 
 your eyes ; look at it ; isn't that what you mean by " being 
 in love? Have you the folly to say now that it is worth 
 more than anything else in the world ? " And we look, and 
 admit we have often called precisely that emotion " being in 
 love," and that it was never better represented ; but we feel, 
 especially now we see it so clearly, it was not that emotion 
 after all to which we gave such importance, but that there is 
 still something very difficult to define to which this value 
 justly belongs. Nor do we mean then by love the impartial 
 sympathy and kindness which Lady Cecily Waynflete feels 
 towards every one she meets ; that is a rare and beautiful 
 quality, and very romantic when it is so constant as it is in 
 her, but that is not it. What Cusins is indicated as feeling in 
 Major Barbara is much more like it ; but notice now where 
 Mr. Shaw's bias comes in. He sums up Cusins's feelings for 
 Barbara by saying, " By the operation of some instinct which 
 is not merciful enough to blind him with the illusions of love, 
 he is obstinately bent on marrying her." As an artist, he has 
 put into their behaviour together a great deal more than this ; 
 but as a writer of analytical stage-directions and philosophic 
 prefaces, he will not admit that it is more than a case of 
 
62 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Tanner and Ann or Valentine and Gloria over again. It is 
 perfectly clear that Cusins, while as a critical observer he may 
 be quite aware of Barbara's faults, and while he is attracted to 
 her instinctively, also feels that happiness in the contem- 
 plation of her mind and character and the expression of them 
 in her person, which is included in the common conception of 
 love. But Mr. Shaw's contempt for the shoddy confusions of 
 passionate literature, his knowledge of the ease with which 
 men deceive themselves at these junctures, and his constant 
 prejudice that the ordinary view must be hopelessly beside 
 the point, lead him as a philosophical critic to ignore emotional 
 complications, which as an artist he here reflects in his work ; 
 and these complications, carried vaguely in the ordinary man's 
 mind, prevent him from being satisfied by Mr. Shaw's demon- 
 stration that love between the sexes has little or no value in 
 itself, and no significance except as a trustworthy indication 
 that the offspring of that particular union are likely to be 
 sound. 
 
 I have discussed the treatment of the emotions as exhibited 
 in these plays at some length, and especially those of love and 
 sexual attraction ; because one general impression which Mr. 
 Shaw's work leaves behind is that of a loveless world in which 
 actions, which seem the result of affection, are explained as 
 having other causes. On nearer inspection this impression 
 appears to be due to the natural trend of his powers rather 
 than to limitations of feeling. His mission is not to glorify 
 what is best in human nature, but to make men scrutinize 
 their pretensions, their emotions, and their conscience. He 
 satirizes rather their virtues and the emotions of which they 
 are proud than the faults to which they would cry " peccavi." 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 63 
 
 But he is apt to weaken his case by ignoring the sound ele- 
 ment in the emotions and qualities he attacks, and sometimes 
 we find him honouring in one place the very quality he 
 attacked elsewhere as a vice masquerading as a virtue. For 
 instance, he attacks (in Major Barbara) the emotion of sym- 
 pathy for suffering and helplessness which he honours in 
 Captain Brassbound' s Conversion. Perhaps he would say that 
 Barbara and Lady Cecily did not feel pity; but without 
 compassion, their kindness would have been more patronizing 
 and less effectual than the sentimental pity he detests as in- 
 sufferably morbid and condescending. Again, he jeers at 
 unselfishness, exhorting every man to fight for his own hand 
 irrespective of consequences to others in the one play ; and 
 in the other he explains the secret of power as a forgetfulness 
 of self. True, the unselfishness he attacks is part humbug 
 and part feebleness, the kind which make a person a nuisance 
 by compelling all who have to do with him to look after his 
 interests as well as their own ; and what Mr. Shaw means is 
 simply that you must help yourself, if you are to help others. 
 But he does not give his fellow-men the credit for seeing 
 these distinctions, and he thinks apparently that they will 
 only take the lesson if he ignores them himself for the sake 
 of emphasis. He asserts that forgiveness is a disastrous 
 principle, and in the same book advocates that every man, 
 whatever he may have done, should have the chance of being 
 treated as though he were still capable of decent conduct and 
 feelings, which is the essence of forgiveness. He pours con- 
 tempt on humility as a kind of perverted emotional luxury or 
 shirking, and yet one of the qualities for which he shows most 
 sympathy is the sense of proportion that makes a man con- 
 
64 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 sider his own emotional struggles and catastrophes, or even 
 his own moral progress and refinement, as after all of small 
 consequence compared to the total effect of his conduct in a 
 world bursting with misery. What is this if it is not humility ? 
 These contradictions do not spring from a confused view of 
 life ; but from the persuasion that he is writing for a world of 
 fools, who are so dense and inert, that they can only be 
 startled into attention ; who, being incapable of keeping 
 separate things distinct, are also incapable of being moved by 
 anything but emphatic one-sided statement. It is this con- 
 viction which mars much of his work ; for it is not true. The 
 ordinary man feels many more distinctions than he can ex- 
 press. Though he may be unable always to refute Mr. Shaw, 
 he does feel that a great many important things have been 
 left out in dealing with human nature and society, and there- 
 fore he is inclined to ignore him as a maker of paradoxes, 
 or merely to enjoy him as a wit. If Mr. Shaw had felt more 
 constantly the truth of his own maxim : " The difference 
 between the shallowest routiner and the deepest thinker 
 appears, to the latter, trifling ; to the former, infinite " — for 
 presumably the thinker sees the truth in this matter also : 
 better than the ordinary man — his work would have been 
 more convincing. Nevertheless, the influence of clearness and 
 emphatic presentation, and of a point of view extremely well 
 stated, must always be wide. It is a great thing to have a 
 side of things so vividly expressed that you can turn to the 
 author at any time in confidence that you will find in him 
 its most absolute and forcible expression. It is one of 
 the chief causes of lasting reputation. As to Mr. Shaw's 
 influence upon his contemporaries, this is best measured by 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 65 
 
 noting how frequently in reading or talking you come across 
 a view of things, which makes you think, ** I wonder whether 
 that is derived from Bernard Shaw ; " or by a still subtler 
 test, by watching how often in your private ruminations upon 
 some experience or other the suggestion crosses your mind, 
 " Was my view of my own feelings coloured by such and such 
 a scene in Shaw's plays or novels ? " You may say " Yes — 
 and a reason for distrusting it ; " but whether you say that, 
 or whether you marvel at his insight, the fact that the idea 
 occurs at all is a sign that he is an author of real significance. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 Candida 
 
 Candida was first produced at the Court Theatre on April 
 26, 1904. Miss Janet Achurch and Mr. Charrington had 
 taken it round the provinces some years before. The most 
 striking feature in the Court performance was Mr. Granville 
 Barker's acting of the poet, Eugene Marchbanks ; excepting 
 this, and the acting of Miss Sydney Fairbrother, who repre- 
 sented perfectly the pert, self-respecting honesty and sup- 
 pressed sentimental devotion of the little cockney typist, it 
 was not better than the earlier rendering. 
 
 Candida is the story of the love of a poet, age eighteen 
 for a practical, clear-headed, sympathetic woman, who has 
 been married some years to a hard-working, socialistic 
 clergyman, with a tremendous gift for moral exhortation. 
 He is a perfectly sincere man, in the sense that he has never 
 uttered a word which he did not honestly believe to be 
 sincere at the time. But in order to get the maximum 
 energy out of himself he has avoided probing himself or 
 examining his relations towards others. His habitual be- 
 haviour and utterances would come therefore under the head 
 of what Carlyle called "sincere cant." He is certainly a 
 good man, and believes himself to be a strong one. He is 
 devoted to his wife, who returns his affection ; but he regards 
 
 66 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 67 
 
 himself as her protector, and the adoration with which his 
 fellow-workers look up to him, and the influence he wields 
 from platform and pulpit have blinded him to the fact that 
 he is really the weaker of the two. She, on the other hand, 
 is well aware of this, and it increases her love for him to feel 
 he needs her help. 
 
 Into this household comes the poet, who is so sensitive 
 to the attitudes of the people towards him and the emotional 
 atmosphere of the moment, that he is almost helpless in 
 practical matters. He is a shrinking, embarrassed creature, 
 who appeals to Candida's tenderness at first as an adorer, 
 whom she can shelter and protect. But she soon becomes 
 aware of a side of him which goes near to alarming her 
 once or twice, just as it disturbs poor " Prossy," and ends 
 by terrifying Morell. In fact, it would frighten her too, 
 were she not at bottom the most matter-of-fact of the four. 
 Candida has a good deal of George Sand in her. She has a 
 great admiration for intense emotion and poetic sensibility ; 
 but you feel that the only things she really believes in are the 
 obvious things, which plain people value most, a happy fire- 
 side, hard regular work and practical kindness. There is, 
 really, no plumbing the depths of her condescension towards 
 the ideals of a poet Marchbanks appeals to her as Chopin 
 and De Musset appealed to George Sand ; while thinking 
 that she sympathizes with him completely, she really only 
 sympathizes in so far as she can mother and comfort hini. 
 Nevertheless, she is immensely grateful to him for under- 
 standing her situation, and enjoys his adoration without being 
 moved by it. She realizes at the end that he must stand 
 alone ; for, like all true poets, he is incorruptibly sincere and 
 
6S THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 courageous in facing the extent of his longings, and he will 
 not allow them to be satisfied with less than ambrosial food. 
 Living in a world of emotions, and understanding them, he 
 is strong when others are weak. The Rev. James Morell 
 begins by laughing patronizingly at what he considers a case 
 of calf-love — and, too, he feels so sure of Candida. The 
 dialogue between them is one of the truest and most spirited 
 Mr. Shaw has written. It is magnificent. 
 
 Morell rapidly begins to realize that this love is something 
 more serious than he expected ; and still sonorously self- 
 complacent, though keeping up with more and more difficulty 
 an attitude of brotherly forbearance, he proceeds to crush 
 the poet with lofty reproaches and moral harangues, which, 
 alas, have a fatal platform ring about them. They are 
 powerful enough in their way (Mr. Shaw does not secure 
 the poet's victory by undermining his adversary beforehand), 
 but they are nothing to the terrible directness of Marchbank's 
 retorts. Every one makes a breach in the parson's self- 
 confidence which hitherto he thought justly based and im- 
 pregnable. But his habit of attacking others from the 
 pulpit has unfitted him for a close-quarters grapple with an 
 adversary whose sincerity is profounder than his own. He 
 begins to feel his own weakness, and the fear seizes him 
 that perhaps the poet is right, and that when rousing meetings 
 to enthusiasm by his emotional oratory his wife may have 
 despised him in her heart. He loses self-control and shakes 
 Marchbanks by the collar, who screams in nervous terror. 
 
 Marchbanks. . . . {Morell grasps him powerfully by the lapel of 
 his coat : he cowers down on the sofa and screatns passionately^ Stop, 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 69 
 
 Morell : if you strike me I'll kill myself : I won't bear it. {Almost in 
 hysterics.) Let me go. Take your hand away. 
 
 Morell {with slow emphatic scorn). You little snivelling cowardly 
 whelp. {He releases him.) Go, before you frighten yourself into a fit. 
 
 Marchbanks {on the sofa, gasping, but relieved by the withdrawal of 
 MorelPs hand). I'm not afraid of you : it's you who are afraid of me. 
 
 Morell {quietly, as he stands over him). It looks like it, doesn't it ? 
 
 Marchbanks {with petulant vehemence). Yes, it does. {Morell turns 
 away contemptuously. Eugene scrambles to his feet and follows him.) 
 You think because I shrink from being brutally handled — because {with 
 tears in his voice) I can do nothing but cry with rage when I am met with 
 violence — because I can't lift a heavy trunk down from the top of a cab 
 like you — because I can't fight you for your wife as a navvy would : all 
 that makes you think I am afraid of you. But you're wrong. If I 
 haven't got what you call British pluck, I haven't British cowardice 
 either : I'm not afraid of a clergyman's ideas. I'll fight your ideas. I'll 
 rescue her from her slavery to them : I'll pit my own ideas against them. 
 You are driving me out of the house because you daren't let her choose 
 between your ideas and mine. You are afraid to let me see her again. 
 {Morell, angered, turns suddenly on him. He flies to the door in involun- 
 tary dread.) Let me alone, I say. I'm going. 
 
 Morell {with cold scorn). Wait a moment. I'm not going to touch 
 you : don't be afraid. When my wife comes back she will want to know 
 why you have gone. And when she finds tha you are never going to 
 cross our threshold again, she will want to have that explained too. 
 Now I don't wish to distress her by telling her that you have behaved 
 like a blackguard. 
 
 Marchbanks {coming back with renewed vehemence). You shall — you 
 must. If you give any explanation but the true one, you are a liar and a 
 coward. Tell her what I said ; and how you were strong and manly, and 
 shook me as a terrier shakes a rat ; and how I shrank and was terrified ; 
 and how you called me a snivelling little whelp and put me out of the 
 house. If you don't tell, I will : I'll write it to her. 
 
 Morell {taken aback). Why do you want her to know this .? 
 
 Marchbanks {with lyric rapture). Because she will understand me, 
 and know that I understand her. If you keep back one word of it from 
 her— if you are not ready to lay the truth at her feet as I am— then you 
 
70 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 will know to the end of your days that she really belongs to me and not 
 
 to you. Good-bye. 
 ^ MoRELL {terribly disquieted). Stop : I will not tell her. 
 
 Marchbanks {turning near the door). Either the truth or a lie you 
 
 must tell her if I go. 
 
 MORELL {temporizing). Marchbanks : it is sometimes justifiable 
 
 Marchbanks {cutting him short). I know — to lie. It will be useless. 
 
 Good-bye, Mr. Clergyman. {As he turns finally to thedoor^it opens^ and 
 
 Candida enters in her housekeeping dress.) 
 
 There are no explanations for the present. In the last act 
 ^ Morell and the poet confront her together, and demand that 
 
 she shall choose between them. Candida with ironical acqui- 
 escence consents, and proposes that they should make their 
 bids for her. Her husband in the vein of proud, manly- 
 humility offers her his strength for her protection, his honesty 
 of purpose for her surety, his industry for her living, etc. 
 
 Candida {guite quietly). And you, Eugene ? What do you offer ? 
 Marchbanks. My weakness ! my desolation ! my heart's need ! 
 Candida. That's a good bid, Eugene. Now I know how to make my 
 choice 
 
 and she chooses " the weaker." Morell collapses, thinking it 
 is all over, but the poet knows in a moment that the sentence 
 has gone ag9.inst him. 
 
 The play ends with an explanation from Candida why 
 Morell is weak and Eugene strong. The poet goes away 
 without bitterness, and husband and wife fall into each 
 other's arms. But, we are told, that neither of them know 
 the secret which is in the poet's heart. This secret, however, 
 is easy to divine ; it is the knowledge that the love which 
 those two have for each other is not what, he wants or 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 71 
 
 envies, or, to put it prosaically, it is a contempt for roseate 
 domesticity. 
 
 The play is among the best Mr. Shaw has written. The 
 interest is concentrated on the main theme throughout, and 
 it finishes at the point from which the audience, looking back, 
 can best understand all that has happened, which cannot be 
 said of his last two plays. It is the first play to show what 
 is becoming more and more obvious in his writings, that, in 
 addition to the rationalistic point of view from which he 
 criticizes conventions and social institutions, he looks on the 
 world from another, which is defiantly and ruthlessly ideal- 
 istic. As a socialist, he is always attempting to prove that 
 social and moral conventions must be broken up and changed 
 because they do not lead to human happiness ; but his favour- 
 able judgment of individuals depends upon the extent to 
 which they despise and dispense with happiness themselves. 
 In personal relations, in love, he apparently sees little value ; 
 love is a comfort, a consoling kind of happiness, which a 
 great man can do without ; when he is tired and discouraged 
 he may crave for it ; but these are his feebler moments. At 
 his best he is self-sufficient ; content in the place of happiness 
 with a kind of occasional triumphant gaiety, springing from 
 a sense of his own fortitude and power. In the later plays 
 which we shall examine, we shall find him recognizing this as 
 fundamentally a religious emotion, and trying to find the 
 view of the universe which justifies and explains it. Mean- 
 while it is worth noting that the poet is the first character of 
 this kind, who is used as a touchstone to test the metal of the 
 others. Mr. Granville Barker succeeded in playing Eugene 
 Marchbanks where almost every other actor would have failed, 
 
72 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 because the representation of a lyrical mood is one within 
 the peculiar range of his powers. His voice, too, can express 
 a contemplative ecstasy. It possesses a curious individual 
 quality, which, while it limits the range of his impersonations, 
 gives particular intensity to some. When he repeats her 
 name "Candida, Candida, Candida," there is not a touch of 
 self-consciousness in the musical reiteration; he does not 
 appear to be following the sound of his own voice like most 
 actors at such times, but to be listening, detached, to his 
 longing made audible. 
 
 It is in his representation of intellectual emotions that he 
 excels, and so he excels in this part. Miss Kate Rorke was 
 Candida to perfection in her capacity, promptitude, width of 
 mind and patronage and kindliness ; but she left out Candida's 
 smiles, her irony, her maternity, and the charm of her perfect 
 self-control. Mr. C. V. France (I did not see Mr. McKinnel) as 
 James Morell did not give sufficiently the impression of a char- 
 acter with a large emotional surface. Morell's thoughtfulness 
 for others, too, though it had become largely a mechanical 
 habit, must have always had more of the actor's perennial 
 impetuosity about it. Nor did Mr. France give the impression 
 of a man who is readily excited by his own words and 
 attitudes, which Morell the orator certainly was. His per- 
 formance as the parson in The Convict on the Hearth 
 was a better one, though his Morell was far from being 
 insignificant. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 73 
 
 John Bull's Other Island 
 
 If Candida is one of the best of Mr. Shaw's plays for the 
 completeness with which it contains and finishes its story, 
 John Bull's Other Island is remarkable for being equally 
 successful for entirely different reasons. It is a play with 
 hardly any story, with no climax, without the vestige of a 
 plot, and without anything like an ending, in fact without 
 one of the qualities of the "well-constructed" play; yet it 
 is nevertheless an absolute success. The story is simply that 
 of two friends and partners, an Irishman and an Englishman, 
 who visit the former's old home in order to fore-close a 
 mortgage. Incidentally, the Englishman determines to stand 
 for the local seat, and becomes engaged, with his friend's 
 approval, to a young woman with whom the latter had been 
 on rather romantic terms for a short time before starting 
 on his career. That is all : could anything sound more 
 unpromising? There is not even a touch of jealousy to 
 offer a chance for dramatic effect. The interest lies solely 
 in the presentation of character and in the contrast between 
 temperaments; but this is achieved in a masterly fashion. 
 The play has the one aesthetic technical quality, which is 
 necessary to its perfection ; the characters are developed by 
 means of a perfectly natural sequence of events ; there is 
 no appearance of circumstances being created for the sake 
 of exhibiting them ; everything that happens has the air of 
 happening by chance. 
 
 Every critic of this play must stop on the threshold of 
 his comments to remark, with whatever emphasis he can 
 
74 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 command, that the performance itself was one of the best 
 ever given in London. There were faults, of course, but they 
 are only worth mentioning, if this fact is remembered. 
 
 Mr. Shaw has explained in his preface to the play what he 
 conceives to be the main difference between the Englishman 
 and the Irishman. The Irishman is more imaginative, but he 
 has no illusions about matters of fact ; while the Englishman 
 is at the mercy of such imagination as he possesses, and has 
 in consequence a confused sentimental conception of reality. 
 The Duke of Wellington, according to him, is a typical 
 Irishman, while Nelson is typically English. This difference 
 in temperament he attributes not to race (he does not believe 
 in race) but to the climate. These discussions about national 
 characteristics make very good conversation, but it is hard to 
 feel satisfied with the conclusions ; for the exceptions are too 
 numerous. For instance, according to Mr. Shaw's theory, 
 you would expect to find that such Englishmen as Fielding, 
 Defoe, Cobbett, Gissing, Samuel Butler, had been brought up 
 in the soft moist air and among the brown bogs and heather 
 of RosscuUen, and that such Irishmen as Goldsmith and 
 Steele, who were so full of romantic sentiment about actualities 
 and dearly loved a fool (which Mr. Shaw says is almost im- 
 possible for an Irishman) had never even been to Ireland. 
 But whether the theory propounded in the preface is true or 
 not, in the play Larry Doyle and Broadbent are extra- 
 ordinarily vivid characters, who recall familiar types of 
 Irishmen and Englishmen. The contrast between the two 
 is most striking at the following points. Broadbent is full 
 of " heart," and takes himself and everything he does and 
 every one he meets absolutely seriously ; he has no sense of 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 75 
 
 humour, or of refinement, or of proportion. Larry is dis- 
 criminative to the point of chilly fastidiousness ; he cannot 
 enjoy life and he cannot idealize any human being: he 
 cannot love, though he is fond of Tom Broadbent because 
 Tom's warmth of emotion helps him to feel things are worth 
 while at the moment, and because his nature is essentially 
 practical and active, while Larry himself is only capable of 
 being moved by ideals in which he does not believe. He is 
 exasperated by this tendency in himself to feel only the 
 beauty and significance of things which do not exist in any 
 satisfying quantities ; hence the bitterness of his contempt 
 for romance and mysticism. His life is a perpetual struggle 
 to get used to the world ; it is a point of pride with him not 
 to feel an exile here ; hence his enthusiasm for the big inter- 
 national world of shipping, engineering and business, into 
 which he has escaped from his dreams and thoughts in 
 poverty-stricken Rosscullen. But business does not really 
 fill him with enthusiasm, and he knows it ; hence his fierce 
 dislike of Father Keegan, who, with the same heart-sickness 
 in him, has taken the opposite course, and turned away from 
 reality to live in contemplation of a far-off perfection. Larry 
 feels, as keenly as Father Keegan, the futility and vulgarity 
 of Broadbent's schemes ; but he fights fiercely for them 
 because anything seems more tolerable than the helplessness 
 of a visionary's protest against the world. 
 
 Mr. J. L. Shine's Larry was not so good as many of the 
 other parts ; but he did give the impression of loneliness and 
 distraction of heart and of perpetual tension of will to keep 
 turned towards one path in life, which are far the most 
 important characteristics to represent in Larry. 
 
76 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Broadbent, on the other hand, talks with the most reverential 
 enthusiasm of Ruskin and Shelley (whose works he was very 
 fond of reading, he says, as a boy), and he listens in the same 
 spirit to the discourses of Keegan ; but there is a profounder 
 disrespect implied in his admiration than in Larry's im- 
 patience ; for Broadbent is absolutely incapable of really 
 believing in such things ; the works oi Ruskin and Shelley 
 are merely pots of romantic paint to him, wherein he finds 
 colours with which to daub his own undertakings. 
 
 Mr. Louis Calvert's Broadbent was a masterpiece of acting. 
 It is seldom that a character so thoroughly homogeneous in 
 gesture, voice, and carriage is seen on the stage. Mr. Shaw's 
 description of him runs as follows : " a robust, full-blooded, 
 energetic man in the prime of life, sometimes eager and 
 credulous, sometimes shrewd and roguish, sometimes porten- 
 tously solemn, sometimes jolly and impetuous, always buoyant 
 and irresistible, mostly likable ; and enormously absurd in 
 his most earnest moments." Mr. Calvert was all this to the 
 life. The meeting between Broadbent and Nora Reilly by 
 the round tower, on the first night of his arrival at Rosscullen, 
 when his romantic feelings are so strange to himself, that he 
 accepts Nora's suggestion he is drunk, with shame and con- 
 viction, is a delicious bit of comedy. His subsequent wooing 
 of Nora and his easy triumph was a painful spectacle, for 
 Nora is a charming person ; but the scene is distressingly 
 plausible. 
 
 Mr. Barker as Father Keegan did not quite succeed in 
 inspiring the sense of remote dignity which it is important 
 to emphasize in contrast to the eupeptic irreverence of Broad- 
 bent and to the squalid go-as-you-please Irish characters. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 77 
 
 How good they all were ! Corney Doyle (Mr. F. Gremlin) 
 with his drawling manner and calculating eye; Father Dempsey 
 (Mr. Beveridge) with unction, authority, and familiarity so 
 perfectly blended in his manner ; Barney Doran (Mr. Wilfred 
 Shine), the clever sloven with plenty of heartiness and no 
 heart ; and Mat Haffigan (Mr. A. E. George), that gnarled 
 old stump of dogged density ! Miss Ellen O'Mally's Nora 
 had a genuine poetic charm, a quality which hardly ever 
 crosses the footlights. 
 
 You Never Gan Tell 
 
 The story of this play is so small a part of it, that it is not 
 worth while telling ; the interest lies entirely in the characters. 
 You Never Can Tell has proved one of the most popular of 
 Mr. Shaw's plays, partly because its peculiar wit and high 
 spirits communicate to the spectator's mind a kind of dancing 
 freedom ; and partly because the criticism in it upon social 
 distinctions, the family, and the conventions of courtship, 
 instead of being hurled in truculent harangues across the 
 foot-lights, is conveyed indirectly during the course of the 
 story — and, lastly, because the whole play is tinged with the 
 serene resignation of the gentle refrain, " You never can tell, 
 sir, you never can tell." 
 
 Gonnoisseurs are tiresome with their definitions of true 
 comedy, when the upshot of them is that nothing can be 
 comedy unless it is very like what has already been written. 
 Mr. Shaw's plays may or may not be comedy ; their pervading 
 spirit is certainly rather one of scrutiny than of indulgence, 
 
78 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 and humanity on his stage is always under the stare of a 
 terrible eye ; but whether the presence of these qualities in 
 his work settle the question or not, it is clear that You Never 
 Can 7>// approaches more nearly than the others to what every 
 one considers comedy. 
 
 How delightful is William the waiter ! The '' silky old 
 man, white-haired and delicate looking, but so cheerful and 
 contented that in his encouraging presence ambition stands 
 rebuked as vulgarity and imagination as treason to the 
 abounding sufficiency and interest of the actual." How 
 beautifully Mr. Calvert played him ! He gathered the tea- 
 cups with the tenderness of a lady picking flowers in her 
 garden ; he proffered coats and parasols with a concern un- 
 touched by servility, but profoundly absurd ; his voice was 
 like oil on troubled waters ; he was the personification of that 
 sense of the importance of the moment, which, emphasized, is 
 the source of the most delicious irony. What a dissertation 
 might be written upon William ! William the leveller, 
 William the impassive, William the imperturbably, univers- 
 ally kind ! His kinship to Mother Earth might be shown ; he 
 might be compared to the over-arching blue, which dwarfs 
 frantic gesticulations and is no sounding-board for violent 
 declaimers. One cannot help regretting that his spirit does 
 not more often brood over the plays of Mr. Shaw. 
 
 The love interest in this play has already been discussed in 
 connection with Mr. Shaw's general treatment of that theme ; 
 but it is worth while insisting again upon its main feature. 
 Love appears as an impulse which cannot be rationalized, only 
 explained. The state of falling in love is, according to this 
 theory, one that a clear-headed man will recognize as a kind 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 79 
 
 of dream, in which individuals have a value his wide-awake 
 judgment would never allow them. That is to say, it makes 
 complete nonsense of life. In his later plays Mr. Shaw justi- 
 fies it on the ground of a faith in the purposes of nature, of 
 " the Life Force " ; in this one, Valentine, unlike Tanner who 
 philosophizes upon it, recklessly enjoys its exhilaration, though 
 he knows it may land him where he has no wish to be. When 
 Gloria, like Ann, turns round to hold her lover, who when it 
 comes to the point would be half glad to get off, it was curious 
 to note that the audience always roared with laughter, just as 
 they did at the tremendous moment in the last act of Man 
 and Superman. If this jars on those who see the serious 
 intention of the author, how trying it must be to the actors 
 themselves. 
 
 The Twins, who are so delightful to the reader, never quite 
 came up to expectation on the stage. High spirits and spon- 
 taneous fun are extraordinarily difficult to act ; especially 
 when they take the form of a boyish burlesque of sententious- 
 ness. The Twins are always acting up to a comic conception 
 of themselves ; it is very hard for the actors to represent two 
 young creatures doing this naturally. The fault I had to find 
 with the playing of Miss Dorothy Minto and Mr. Page is that 
 they did not always exhibit enough the physical signs of the 
 animal spirits which prompt their irrepressible comments. 
 The rollicking tirades about their twentieth-century mother 
 and Gloria, in the first act, did not quite come off for this 
 reason. In Miss Minto, who was so admirable in the quarrel 
 with her father, I missed the flash of teeth and eyes in smiling, 
 which I imagine to have been one of the characteristics which 
 made the assaults of the real Dolly so flabbergasting; but 
 
8o THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 when she was momentarily suppressed she was excellent. 
 ^ Mr. Page often lacked vivacity. But certainly this want is 
 fr'^. better than the over-acting the part easily invites. 
 
 Miss Watson brought out the unamiable platform side of 
 Mrs. Clandon. You could imagine how carefully just she 
 always tried to be to her children ; but you missed the in- 
 dulgent generous quality in her, which was so remarkable in 
 Mrs. Wright's impersonation, making the family much more 
 conceivable as a family, and Mrs. Clandon's implacable atti- 
 tude to her husband much more interesting. Owing to this 
 peculiarity in Miss Watson's finished acting, the scene in which 
 the Twins, after trying to get out of their mother the name of 
 their father, go over to her side against Gloria, did not seem 
 significant. 
 
 Mr. Edmund Gurney, as Crampton, cut as unamiably gro- 
 tesque a figure as he ought. He was wonderfully unattractive, 
 and, when he climbed down and dropped the domineering 
 father, like all unattractive cross-grained people trying to 
 conciliate affection, he became pitiable. There was real 
 pathos in the pleading glances of his dazed and choleric little 
 eye, in the movements of his mouth, as though he found con- 
 sideration for others a bitter draught, and in the clumsy, 
 checked gestures of his tenderness. Mr. James Hearn as 
 Bohun used a fine hectoring voice ; but he emphasized already 
 too frequent repetitions of his part by a monotonous shaking 
 of his finger at the individual to be put down. 
 
 The part of Valentine was played on different occasions by 
 Mr. Granville Barker and Mr. Ainley. The latter's was a 
 very fair performance, but he did not express well the gaiety 
 and violence which are part of Valentine's character. Where 
 
THE COURT THEATRE Si 
 
 Mr. Barker excelled was precisely in those brisk leaps of the 
 heart, which are so characteristic of Mr. Shaw's lovers ; for 
 instance, in such a passage as this, at the end of an interview 
 during which Gloria has been very scornful. 
 
 Valentine. Love can't give any man new gifts. It can only heighten 
 the gifts he was born with. 
 
 Gloria. What gifts were you born with, pray ? 
 
 Valentine. Lightness of heart. 
 
 Gloria. And lightness of head, and lightness of faith, and lightness 
 of everything that makes a man. 
 
 Valentine. Yes, the whole world is like a feather dancing in the light 
 now, and Gloria is the sun. I beg your pardon ; I'm off. Back at nine. 
 Good-bye. 
 
 Mr. Barnes' Finch McComas was a most delightful piece of 
 comedy. Finch in his youth was an ardent reformer ; when 
 he appears on the stage he is an eminently respectful solicitor. 
 His character bears some analogy to Roebuck Ramsden ; 
 they are both i860 types, only Finch is well aware that his 
 ideas are no longer advanced. He informs Mrs. Clandon, 
 newly arrived from Madeira, that the ideas they upheld 
 together in their youth, for which she is still strenuously 
 prepared to suffer social ostracism, are now perfectly 
 respectable ; in fact, that they might be professed by any 
 bishop ; only in one place could they possibly be considered 
 as advanced — in the theatre. 
 
 Man and Superman 
 
 This play is a tragi-comic love-chase of a man by a woman. 
 
 It is based on the philosophy of sex already discussed, with 
 6 
 
82 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 this corollary added : that in such matters the woman is 
 always the pursuer, and man the pursued : a corollary 
 obviously untrue, which gains, however, a certain plausibility 
 of appeal both from the fact, which everybody knows though it 
 is sometimes conventionally concealed, that women take love- 
 likings as often as men, and in their own ways seek as often 
 to attain their object, and also from the experience of men 
 who have made love and run away, that the women not 
 unnaturally sometimes run after them. But if the case of 
 Ann and Tanner is taken as an individual case, which it 
 becomes when shorn of preface and appendices on the stage, 
 the general significance which the author attributes to it need 
 not annoy us. The play is the most brilliant piece of work 
 Mr. Shaw has done. 
 
 Ann is " Everywoman '^ according to Mr. Shaw's philosophy ; 
 though every woman is not Ann. As an individual character 
 she is excellent. Her instinct leads her to mark down Tanner 
 as the father for her children. He knows that marriage means 
 loss of liberty, and therefore of efficiency and happiness. He 
 has no respect for Ann's character, and he only approves of 
 her as a philosopher because all impulses, actions and thoughts 
 are subordinated in her to nature's vital purpose. 
 
 Jack Tanner, with his explosions of nervous energy and 
 exasperated eloquence, is as good as Ann. The contrasting 
 male character is the poetical, chivalrous, romantic Octavius. 
 He woos Ann, who would never be willing to take him as a 
 husband ; for the poetic temperament is barren, " the Life 
 Force passes it by." Marriage, if he only knew, would be 
 equally fatal to him ; for his goddess, his inspiration, would 
 vanish in the real " flesh and blood " woman and mother, who 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 83 
 
 is not lovable in herself and in so far as she is " woman " 
 (and Ann is little else) can only really care for her children. 
 Tanner in the end, as Don Juan explains of himself in the 
 dream, yields because he cannot help it. He despises Ann ; 
 she is bully and liar, " and unscrupulously uses her personal 
 fascinations to make men give her what she wants, which 
 makes her something for which there is no polite name." 
 She will think his aspirations and efforts to reform society 
 absurd, and thwart him as much as she dares; and, above 
 all, she is a hypocrite, ^ut though-Tanner surrenders reluct- 
 antly he gives in at last with a good conscience ; for Ann and 
 he, in submitting to their attraction for each other, become 
 the servants of " the Life Force," or will of the world. Hence- 
 forth they are instruments to the creation of the Superman, 
 which is the only aim worth working for in this world ; and 
 they are both right to sacrifice, she her happiness and perhaps 
 her life, he his happiness and aims and generous ambitions ; 
 for such things cannot compare in importance with the bringing 
 into the world of children, born of mutual attraction. But the 
 institution which compels two people who have nothing in 
 common, saving this impulse towards each other, to spend 
 their two lives together, is iniquitous. The conclusion logically 
 follows from the assertion that the child is the sole end of 
 marriage, is that it is absurd to make marriage binding. More- 
 over, the consideration that the rest of life will have to be 
 spent together induces men and women to marry for irrelevant 
 reasons, such as affection or self-interest, to the detriment of 
 subsequent generations. That is the moral of a comedy 
 which keeps many people laughing, who would not laugh 
 if they understood. 
 
84 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 Mr. Granville Barker's Tanner was one of his best parts. 
 It was a pity perhaps that he did not make Tanner seem 
 more formidable. Ann's cool audacity and insidious per- 
 severance were admirable, but Miss McCarthy missed one 
 point in the character. Ann after all had some fun in her ; it 
 was perhaps her only redeeming quality from an ordinary 
 point of view; Miss McCarthy did not suggest this. Mr. 
 Casson as Octavius was finely insignificant. The whole per- 
 formance was extraordinarily good. Miss Florence Haydon 
 as Mrs. Whitefield and Mr. Gwenn as Straker have identified 
 themselves for ever with these characters in our imaginations. 
 Miss Sarah Brooke as that hard, competent, pretty young 
 woman, Violet Robinson, Mr. Barnes as Roebuck Ramsden, 
 and Miss Agnes Thomas as an acid old maid, all reached that 
 pitch of excellence in their parts which makes a living person 
 start up before the mind's eye afterwards, whenever the name 
 of the character is mentioned. 
 
 Captain Brassbound's Conversion 
 
 The moral of this play is that revenge is silly and vulgar, 
 and justice with retaliatory punishments is only a wilder kind 
 of revenge. Lady Cecily Waynflete manages and keeps in 
 perfect order the horde of ramshackle banditti, amongst whom 
 she and her brother find themselves, by ignoring their dan- 
 gerous intentions as childish naughtinesses, and treated every 
 one of them as though they were amiable fellows. Her 
 power springs from absolute fearlessness and a most kindly 
 sympathy, which is not in her an irregular or interrupted 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 85 
 
 impulse, but a constant feeling. She is a gentle, humorous, 
 cheerful, naturally domesticated person, but a very persis- 
 tent immovable one. To borrow a metaphor, there is in 
 her nature a quality which answers to the fly-wheel in a mill, 
 which distributes the motion equably over all the wheels. 
 She is always telling people what pleasant faces they have 
 and how much she likes them ; and this is how she genuinely 
 feels towards all she meets. The story runs as follows : 
 Sir Howard Hallam, one of His Majesty's judges, and Lady 
 Cecily, his sister-in-law, are taking a holiday tour in Morocco. 
 They are anxious to make an expedition into the interior, 
 a tract of country which is dangerous to Christian travellers, 
 owing to the fanaticism of the Mohammedan tribes. A 
 certain Captain Brassbound, who carries on a dubious coast- 
 ing trade (really smuggling and piracy), sometimes provides 
 an escort for tourists in this district. In spite of the warnings 
 of the missionary at the coast town, they determine to trust 
 him ; though Lady Cecily is, of course, reluctant to have an 
 escort at all ; such men, she says, always want such a lot of 
 looking after. However, Sir Howard and the missionary are 
 firm on this point, and she resigns herself. She is not the 
 least alarmed when she hears that every native believes that 
 he will go to heaven if he kills an unbeliever, and replies 
 with point, " Bless you, dear Mr. Rankin, the people in 
 England believe that they will go to heaven if they give all 
 their property to the poor. But they don't do it. I'm not 
 a bit afraid of that." 
 
 Now Brassbound is really the son of Sir Howard's brother. 
 His mother was a drunken half-crazy woman, who after 
 her husband's death pestered the judge, her brother-in-law, 
 
86 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 to such an extent that he had an order of restraint made out 
 against her. There was a piece of property, too, in Jamaica, 
 over which there was a long legal dispute ; it is now in the 
 judge's hands. The upshot of all this, as far as concerns the 
 position of the characters at the beginning of the play, is that 
 Captain Brassbound, alias " Black Paquito," has been nursing 
 for years a romantic hatred of his uncle, as the murderer and 
 robber of his mother ; Sir Howard, of course, never dreams 
 of the relationship between them. It is the captain's intention 
 to revenge his mother by delivering the travellers over to the 
 mercy of the fanatic, Sidi el Assif. But his whole romantic 
 scheme of revenge collapses on closer acquaintance with Lady 
 Cecily. He clings to it desperately because he has invested 
 all his self-respect in the idea that he is a wronged man, who 
 has a great act of reparative justice to perform ; but it is no 
 use ; her kindliness, perfect good faith, and good sense, take 
 the life out of this revenge. He begins by resenting and 
 repulsing her kind actions towards himself and his men ; but 
 these are so practical, and are done in so amiable a spirit that 
 he cannot hold out long. There is an explosive scene, of 
 course, between Captain Brassbound and Sir Howard, when 
 the former declares his relationship and resolve, in which Sir 
 Howard speaks up stoutly, declaring that Brassbound may 
 do his worst, but that he and the rest of his gang shall 
 certainly swing for it, while Lady Cecily sits by rather 
 distressed, but quite calm. After this scene follows a dialogue 
 between her and Captain Brassbound, so typical of the 
 delightful serious comedy of the whole play that it must be 
 quoted. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 87 
 
 Brassbound. Don't quibble with me. I am going to do my duty as a 
 son ; and you know it. 
 
 Lady Cecily. But I should have thought the time for that was in your 
 mother's lifetime, when you could have been kind and forbearing with 
 her. Hurting your uncle won't do her any good, you know. 
 
 Brassbound. It will teach other scoundrels to respect widows and 
 orphans. Do you forget that there is such a thing as justice ? 
 
 Lady Cecily {gaily shaking out the finished coat). Oh, if you are 
 going to dress yourself in ermine and call yourself Justice, I give you up. 
 You are just your uncle over again ; only he gets ;^5ooo a year for it, and 
 you do it for nothing. {She holds the coat up to see if any further repairs 
 are needed^ 
 
 Brassbound {sulkily). You twist my words very cleverly. But no 
 man or woman has ever changed me. 
 
 Lady Cecily. Dear me ! That must be very nice for the people you 
 deal with, because they can always depend on you ; but isn't it rather 
 inconvenient for yourself when you change your mind ? 
 
 Brassbound. I never change my mind. 
 
 Lady Cecily {rising with the coat in her hands). Oh ! oh ! Nothing 
 will ever persuade me that you are as pigheaded as that. 
 
 Brassbound. {offended). Pigheaded ! 
 
 Lady Cecily {with quick, caressing apology). No, no, no. I didn't 
 mean that. Firm ! Unalterable ! Resolute ! Iron willed. Stonewall 
 Jackson. That's the idea, isn't it ? 
 
 Brassbound {hopelessly). You are laughing at me. 
 
 Lady Cecily. No. Trembling, I assure you. Now will you try this 
 on for me ? I'm so afraid I have made it too tight under the arm. {She 
 holds it behind him) 
 
 Brassbound {obeying mechanically). You take me for a fool, I think. 
 {He misses the sleeve.) 
 
 Lady Cecily. No ; all men look foolish when they are feeling for 
 their sleeves — 
 
 Brassbound. Agh ! {He turns and snatches the coat from, herj then 
 puts it on himself and buttons the lowest button.) 
 
 Lady Cecily {horrified). Stop. No, you must never pull a coat at 
 the skirts. Captain Brassbound ; it spoils the sit of it. Allow me. {She 
 pulls the lapels of his coat vigorously forward.) Put back your shoulders. 
 
SS THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 {He frowns but obeys.) That's better. {She buttons the top button) Now 
 button the rest, from the top down. Does it catch you at all under 
 the arm ? 
 
 Brassbound {miserably — all resistance beaten out of him). No. 
 
 Lady Cecily. That's right. Now, before I go back to poor Marzo, say 
 thank you to me for mending your jacket, like a nice polite sailor. 
 
 Brassbound {sitting down at the table in great agitation). Damn you ! 
 You have belittled my whole life to me. {He bows his head on his hands, 
 convulsed.) 
 
 Lady Cecily {qinte understanding, and putting her hand kindly on his 
 shoulder). Oh no. I am sure you have done lots of kind things and 
 brave things, if you could only recollect them. With Gordon, for instance ? 
 Nobody can belittle that. 
 
 But the Sidi is on his way, and Captain Brassbound cannot 
 now prevent his vengeance working itself out. However, an 
 American gun-boat has been warned to keep an eye on the 
 fate of the travellers, and by firing a few guns they succeed in 
 frightening off the fanatics, and Captain Brassbound and his 
 crew are marched off in custody. 
 
 The last act is delightful ; in it the Captain, dressed by 
 Lady Cecily's orders in her brother's, the Italian ambassador's, 
 top hat and frock coat, looking appallingly stiff and gro- 
 tesquely smart, comes up for court-martial with his crew. Lady 
 Cecily explains everything away ; how the two quarrelled 
 when they found they were related, how well Captain 
 Brassbound behaved ; in short, she garbles the events in the 
 most exquisitely ingenious fashion. Of course they are all 
 acquitted. The play ends with Brassbound asking Lady 
 Cecily what he is to do now, since she has knocked the 
 bottom out of his old life. He blurts out a proposal of 
 marriage, and she is almost hypnotized into saying yes ; but 
 the signal-gun breaks the spell, and he returns to his ship, 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 89 
 
 glad that he has not persuaded her to sacrifice herself, and 
 confident that he knows what is the secret of influence over 
 men at last — disinterested, fearless sympathy. 
 
 The rare merit of the play lies in making you think most 
 seriously of the relations of men to each other and laugh at 
 the same time. Since Swift no such insistent preacher has 
 so leavened his lesson with laughter. Dickens both preached 
 and laughed, but he stopped laughing the moment he began 
 to preach. 
 
 The humour in this play hovers perpetually on the edge of 
 that tender emotion which the sight of great kindness and 
 reasonableness stirs. Nowhere else, except in the second act 
 of Major Barbara, is Mr. Shaw's emotional asceticism so 
 perfectly justified by the results. This distrust of the melting 
 mood is one of his most marked characteristics as a writer, 
 and in a hortatory artist it is a sound instinct. For although 
 men in a softened mood may take a deep impression more 
 easily, such an impression is not likely to recur to them so 
 often afterwards as those received at other times. The 
 reformer does well, in conveying his moral, to aim at creating 
 a mood which is more like those in which men ordinarily 
 make their decisions. One reason why exciting harangues, 
 whether moral or religious or political, influence so little the 
 conduct of men who have nevertheless been deeply moved by 
 them, is that the mood in which they felt the significance of 
 what was said is one which normal circumstances rarely arouse 
 again ; the orator has " taken them out of themselves ; " but 
 the truths perceived when " they were themselves " are never 
 quite forgotten. 
 
 The Court Theatre performance was below the usual mark. 
 
90 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 and not so good as that which the Stage Society gave some 
 years before. It lacked those qualities of proportion and 
 completeness which they have attained in almost every other 
 case. The cast did not pull the play well together. Miss 
 Ellen Terry contributed some delightful touches to the 
 character of Lady Cecily, and all her own charm ; but there 
 was an absence of sureness in her acting sometimes, which 
 spoilt its effect. 
 
 Mr. Frederick Kerr, as Brassbound, was not violent and 
 dangerous enough. His attitudes and voice suggested an 
 underlying fund of good nature, which detracts from the 
 impressiveness of Lady Cecily's imperturbable serenity and 
 her conquest of him. His "grrr-s" were guttural enough; 
 but not sufficiently ferocious. It is important that he should 
 behave with great brutality to her in the second act ; so that 
 completeness of the reaction of compunction, when he is over- 
 come by her sweetness and kind good sense, may seem more 
 natural and moving. Mr. Gwenn as Drinkwater was clever ; 
 but far too exaggerated ; especially when he begs that his 
 penny shockers may be returned to him. Mr. Cremlin 
 made Rankin into a completely live human being. It is 
 extraordinary what reality and solidity he can give to a 
 part, provided it is one which fits his personality. Marzo 
 was played quite perfectly. Johnson was very good : Mr. 
 Edmund Gurney has a genius for reproducing the stolid 
 self-satisfaction of the working-man. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 91 
 
 How HE Lied to her Husband 
 
 How he Lied to her Husband is not important. It might 
 be described as a knock-about satire, for farce it is not ; 
 and if this description conveys the idea of a somewhat 
 heart-damping entertainment, the impression is correct. 
 
 The acting of Miss Gertrude Kingston (She), Mr. Granville 
 Barker (He), and Mr. Poulton (Bompas) was exceptionally 
 good. The knocking-about was not very convincing ; but 
 that was inevitable, coming as it did in the middle of careful 
 realistic acting. The characters are as contemptible as they 
 are ridiculous, and yet real enough to make you believe in 
 them. The result is you are on the whole more disgusted 
 than amused ; the story is too mean to yield anything but 
 a seedy kind of fun. There are people who consider 
 Maupassant's L Heritage a good comic story ; these may have 
 found How he Lied to her Husband a light-hearted farce. 
 
 The Man of Destiny 
 
 This play was disappointing. The psychology appeared 
 machine-made and obvious compared with Mr. Shaw's 
 maturer work. Bonaparte is compounded and put together 
 here after the Shavian prescription of a great man of action ; 
 the ingredients are nervous energy, unscrupulous determin- 
 ation, vanity well under control of the will, histrionic power, 
 above all indifference towards happiness and a reckless 
 disregard for personal dignity and honour, except when 
 
92 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 something can be gained from them by using them dramati- 
 cally. The scene is laid in an Italian inn ; the time is soon 
 after the battle of Lodi. Some dispatches which Bonaparte 
 expects have been wheedled out of the young blockhead 
 of an aide-de-camp, by a lady disguised as an Austrian 
 officer. The object of this confidence trick on her part was 
 to prevent a private letter revealing some scandal about 
 Josephine reaching the general. 
 
 The lady, after getting possession of the budget, puts up 
 accidentally at the inn where Bonaparte is staying. He soon 
 finds out that the young officer described by his lieutenant 
 and the lady are the same person ; and the rest of the play is 
 a struggle for the letters. She is willing to hand them all over 
 except one ; he will not hear of this. Finally, he bullies her 
 into yielding them all up ; after which he reads the letter in 
 question on the sly, and gives it back intact, as though he 
 had been too magnanimous to read it ; for he wishes to ignore 
 the scandal, and the only dignified way of doing so is to 
 pretend he knows nothing. When she discovers this, she is 
 overcome with admiration for the courage which dares to do 
 a mean thing, when it suits so perfectly his purpose. The 
 fatuous young lieutenant is under arrest for having lost the 
 dispatches and threatened with expulsion from the army 
 unless he catches the Austrian who deceived him, which 
 Bonaparte knows is impossible. The lady, however, outwits 
 him by dressing up again as an Austrian officer and deliver- 
 ing herself up. At the end General Bonaparte and she are 
 left alone together. 
 
 Bonaparte {throwing down the letters in a heap on the table). Now ! 
 He sits down at the table in a chair he has just placed). 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 93 
 
 Lady. Yes ; but you know you have the letter in your pocket. {He 
 smiles J takes a letter from his pocket, and tosses it on top of the heap. She 
 holds it up and looks at him saying) About Caesar's wife. 
 
 Bonaparte. Caesar's wife is above suspicion. Burn it. 
 
 Lady {taking up the snuffers and holding the letter to the candle flame 
 with it). I wonder would Caesar's wife be above suspicion if she saw us 
 here together ! 
 
 Bonaparte {echoing her, with his elbows on the table and his cheeks on 
 his hands, looking at the letter). I wonder ! 
 
 Miss Irene Vanbrugh's performance was graceful and 
 spirited. Mr. Dion Boucicault as Bonaparte exaggerated his 
 nervous restlessness. He represented him as merely a little 
 demon of energy with fire-flashes of fury and impatience. But 
 it was not only his fault that so little of Napoleon was repre- 
 sented ; Mr. Shaw himself has not suggested Napoleon's 
 impassable stolidity or his power of investing his laissez-aller 
 moods with the air of profound purpose. One feels that 
 Napoleon would have got those letters without making such a 
 to-do about it. 
 
 The Doctor's Dilemma 
 
 This is not among the best plays. It is a somewhat com- 
 plicated story, which is made the vehicle of a great deal of 
 hilarious, delightful satire on doctors and of some poor 
 criticism upon the artistic temperament and the place of the 
 artist in society. The story on the face of it looks quite 
 simple : Sir Colenso Ridgeon, the discoverer of an antitoxin 
 remedy for consumption, finds himself with only one vacancy 
 in his sanatorium and two patients. His choice implies a 
 death sentence upon one of them, since the treatment requires 
 

 94 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 his personal supervision — indeed, it is a most dangerous 
 one in other hands. The two sick men are an East End 
 doctor, who is a commonplace honourable man, and a good- 
 for-nothing artist with a real talent. Which life ought he to 
 save .? His dilemma is, however, complicated by his having 
 taken a great fancy to the artist's wife. He knows this ought 
 not to influence his decision ; nor does it do so directly. But 
 he finds that the wife has no conception that her husband is 
 a worthless fellow ; though, it is true, his ways have often 
 landed them both in quandaries which were painful enough. 
 Sooner or later, however, she is bound to find him out — 
 and then what a tragedy for her ! This consideration does, 
 apparently, go some way towards deciding the issue in his 
 mind against the artist. I say, apparently, because Ridgeon's 
 motives are not made perfectly clear. This is a defect in the 
 play. 
 
 In this dilemma his friend, old Sir Patrick CuUen, is his 
 principal adviser. Sir Patrick is an old-fashioned doctor, a 
 crusty and satisfying character, whose speech is shrewd and 
 kindly, in whom moral work has become at last a kind of 
 intellectual power — a metamorphosis we all have come across 
 in life. When Sir Colenso Ridgeon confesses that his dilemma 
 is complicated by his desire to marry Jennifer Dubedat, in the 
 event of her husband's death, Sir Patrick tells him clearly that 
 he must put that thought out of his mind in deciding ; that it 
 is a plain case of good picture or good man. And when 
 Ridgeon, still half hankering after Jennifer, yet half genuinely 
 in doubt, hesitates a preference for good art over good men, 
 Sir Patrick says : " Don't talk your clever rubbish to me." 
 Then with solemnity : " If you live in an age which turns to 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 95 
 
 pictures, plays, and brass bands, because it can find nothing 
 in humanity to ease its poor aching heart, then you may be 
 thankful that you belong to a noble and great profession, 
 whose business it is to heal men and women." Once more, 
 after Dubedat is condemned to death, when Ridgeon explains 
 that the principal consideration which determined him to cure 
 Blenkinsop was that Jennifer might never suffer disillusion- 
 ment. Sir Patrick's comment blows to shreds with one puff 
 of caustic sense this phantasmal piece of casuistry : " It is 
 rather hard on a young man to kill him simply because his 
 wife has too high an opinion of him — fortunately many of us 
 are not in that position." Ridgeon has made the right 
 decision, but on the wrong grounds. Certainly this old 
 Nestor of the profession has the beau role. Mr. William 
 Farren, jun., played him in a way to make one feel, after- 
 wards, that Sir Patrick Cullen must be some one one has 
 known. 
 
 The first act takes place in Ridgeon's consulting-room, 
 where five doctors call on him in succession to congratulate 
 him on his knighthood, just conferred. While they are all 
 talking about remedies and discoveries a woman is waiting to 
 see him, and from time to time sends up an urgent request for 
 an interview. Mrs. Dubedat refuses to be put off, and at last, 
 through the entreaties of his old housekeeper, he consents to 
 see her. She is told that her husband cannot be taken in as 
 a patient, since the sanatorium is full. But when she shows 
 some of her husband's drawings, their astonishing merit in- 
 duces Ridgeon to make every effort to admit him, especially 
 as he likes extremely Jennifer Dubedat herself. He asks her 
 to bring her husband to a dinner at Richmond, where she will 
 
96 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 meet several eminent men of the profession, and they can all 
 discuss the case together. 
 
 In Act n. the curtain discovers the five doctors, their host 
 and Mrs. Dubedat sitting over coffee and cigarettes : Dubedat 
 has just gone out to put on his coat, preparatory to an early 
 start home. They have all been charmed with the young 
 artist and his wife, except Sir Patrick, who has his suspicions. 
 You cannot tell, he says, what a man is, until you know his 
 behaviour with regard to money and women. Dubedat re- 
 turns for a few minutes to fetch Jennifer, and they go off with 
 Ridgeon's emphatic promise that he will undertake the cure. 
 Alone together, the five men begin discussing the artist, and it 
 comes out that he has tried to borrow money from three of 
 them, successfully in two cases ; and they have hardly got 
 over their dismay, when one of the maids comes in to ask for 
 the address of the gentleman who has just gone away " with 
 that woman " : she turns out to be Dubedat's lawful wife. 
 In addition to these damaging discoveries, poor Blenkinsop 
 enters, terribly upset at having failed to catch Dubedat before 
 he started, because he has borrowed his last half-crown. Be- 
 fore the evening is out he confesses, somewhat reluctantly, to 
 his friends that his own lungs also are touched. Ridgeon 
 decides, after talking over the matter, to save Blenkinsop, 
 and Dubedat is handed over to the mercies of Sir Ralph 
 Bloomfield Bonnington. 
 
 Act III. Sir Ralph, Sir Patrick, Cutler Walpole, and Ridgeon 
 visit Dubedat's studio to confront him with his misdeeds 
 and to explain to his wife that Sir Ralph will undertake the 
 case instead. Dubedat meets their indignation with dumb- 
 founding placidity. He has no conscience whatever about 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 97 
 
 anything outside his work ; but as far as that is concerned he 
 allows nothing to prevent him from doing his best. In this 
 scene he actually tries to borrow money from Ridgeon, 
 on the security of a post-dated cheque, which will enable 
 Ridgeon to blackmail Jennifer into paying him more than 
 he lends. 
 
 The last act, in which Dubedat dies in front of the footlights, 
 has been the subject of a good deal of discussion. Mr. Gran- 
 ville Barker acted the death naturally and realistically. Fault 
 was found with him on the ground that a death struggle 
 untouched by artistic emotion is an unfair, unilluminating 
 assault on the emotions. But it was necessary that we should 
 realize that chilly, quiet, matter-of-factness of physical extinc- 
 tion, so terribly inconsistent with all we know death means, at 
 the very moment of feeling pity for a man whose will is still 
 ablaze, and whose mind is clear and detached in spite of the 
 creeping languor of death. For Dubedat dies in a pose. He 
 hoards his last strength and his last words to stamp an image 
 of himself on his wife's heart which he knows is not the true 
 one. Next to his immortality in his pictures, he values that 
 reincarnation most. He keeps an interviewer in the room, in 
 the hope that some faint reflection of himself, as he would wish 
 to be remembered, may possibly be thrown also upon the great 
 blank sheet of the public imagination. The cheerful and 
 callous young ass of an interviewer conveys by a few words, 
 after all is over, that he has taken away a grotesquely topsy- 
 turvy idea, such as would have disgusted the dead man and 
 made him laugh sourly enough. That is a telling piece of 
 irony ; but profounder still is the irony of the success of 
 Dubedat's pose upon his wife ; nothing can henceforth shake 
 7 
 
98 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 her conviction that he is a hero, a king of men. She turns to 
 the doctors, who have let him die because they judged him 
 unworthy, and appeals to them as though they were all stand- 
 ing together on the top of a mountain of transfiguration. In 
 this last scene Dubedat obeyed the same instinct which drove 
 him in life to create beautiful pictures. His last picture is 
 painted on his wife's mind. This is the climax of the 
 play ; it is followed by an anticlimax which completes the 
 story. 
 
 Ridgeon and Jennifer meet at an exhibition of Dubedat's 
 pictures. She challenges him with being indirectly respon- 
 sible for her husband's death. "Confess to a failure and 
 save our friendship." He admits straight out that he killed 
 Dubedat. But she does not understand at first what he 
 means by this admission. It only gradually dawns on her 
 that he left her husband to die on purpose, and that his 
 motive was a desire to marry her himself, and to shield her 
 from the discovery that her husband was an unmitigated 
 rascal. She is amazed at the idea that he should have been 
 in love with her all the time, and still more at his dreaming 
 she could care for him in return. " You — an elderly man ! " 
 At this reply he staggers back and cries, " O Dubedat, 
 thou art avenged ! " A moment later he hears that, in 
 obedience to her late husband's wish, she has married again, 
 and the play ends with this last exclamation, " Then I have 
 committed a completely disinterested murder." 
 
 This epilogue is disastrous. Firstly, it tends to trivialize 
 the impression the play has made ; for though the last line 
 in it may be, in intention, a summing up of the irony of the 
 story, it rings out fatally in the key of burlesque, like the 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 99 
 
 previous exclamation. Secondly, Ridgeon does not do 
 justice to his own motives ; he did not decide against 
 Dubedat entirely because he coveted his wife, or because he 
 wished to save her from disillusionment ; so this admission 
 on his part confuses the audience's recollection of what has 
 gone before. 
 
 Now to turn to the characters and the acting. Sir Ralph 
 Bloomfield Bonnington (fashionable physician) is a master- 
 piece. A critic in search of emphasis may choose between 
 saying that the part was worthy of Mr. Eric Lewis's acting, 
 or that Mr. Eric Lewis's acting was worthy of the part ; 
 either statement implies absolute praise. Long will " B. B.," 
 the frock-coated, rosy-gilled babbler of scientific jargon and 
 impromptu consolations, hang in our imaginations ! Mr. 
 Lewis's optimistic, confident tenor voice and Micawber-like 
 alacrity of gesture, his air of sympathetic concern, his soothing 
 courtesy of assent as he hovered over his patient or listened 
 to the anxieties of the wife, were perfect. He is at once 
 typical and individual, and, therefore, not simply a caricature. 
 Cutler Walpole (Mr. James Hearn) is a caricature of the 
 brusque, hard-headed type of surgeon, whose manner seems 
 to say, " Pooh, man ! the body has no mysteries for us now. 
 Trust me, I'll put that right in a jiffy." "B. B." inspires 
 confidence and holds together a fashionable practice by 
 blandishment and his own natural buoyancy, Cutler 
 Walpole by bluff; both succeed completely in taking in 
 themselves as well. Mr. Michael Sherbrooke as the little 
 German Jew doctor, who had scraped together a nice little 
 fortune by using the magic words " cure guaranteed," was 
 complete, from the gleam of his spectacles to the rasp of 
 
lOO THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 his accent. The poor but honest Blenkinsop is almost too 
 worthy an individual to engage real sympathy. After 
 Dubedat has gone off with his last half-crown on the night 
 of the dinner at Richmond, he actually refuses the loan of 
 an Underground fare from Ridgeon, whom he has known 
 for twenty years, for fear his friends should dread his 
 borrowing money on other occasions. This is carrying 
 rugged independence to the extent of becoming a social 
 incubus, and one's sympathies begin to incline towards 
 Dubedat. Mr. Gurney found a wonderfully expressive 
 manner for Blenkinsop ; a kind of deprecating, big-dog 
 shyness which suggested a loyal, modest nature. Ridgeon 
 was Mr. Webster's best part. In appearance he bore an 
 odd resemblance to the Millais portrait of Ruskin. His 
 slightly pompous, educated voice and his self-conscious 
 gestures, both so habitually controlled that they can no 
 longer betray emotion, only express it intentionally, and the 
 suggestions of intellectual refinement in his manner, were all 
 traits of an admirably acted, real character. 
 
 Miss McCarthy as Jennifer conveyed the romance of her 
 part. She was admirable when pleading for her husband's 
 life in the first act. 
 
 Dubedat was played by Mr. Barker as well as the drawing 
 of the character allowed. He suggested perfectly the char- 
 acter of a rather agreeably uppish, slouching, loose young 
 blackguard at the dinner ; and he died well. But the 
 psychology of the character is far too crude to be convincing. 
 The incidents intended to show him up occur with an 
 artificial appositeness, and Dubedat himself is mechanically 
 
THE COURT TH^ATJlE ' '^^ ' - ^ loi 
 
 constructed on the old unsatisfactory formula of "the 
 artistic temperament/' that dismal relic of the art for 
 art's sake movement, so wretchedly barren itself in 
 England. 
 
 The avoidance of all artificial appositeness, unreality, or 
 improbability is absolutely essential to the impressiveness of 
 a Shavian play, and the presence of such blemishes is par- 
 ticularly deadly to them for this reason : Mr. Shaw's aim as 
 a dramatist is to correct our conception of the normal, which 
 has been disturbed by a conventional treatment of human 
 nature on the stage. His characters and situations conse- 
 quently strike the playgoer at first as strange and fantastic ; it 
 is with difficulty that he can believe them real ; they are so 
 different from what he expected to see. If, therefore, the 
 action and situations deviate in the slightest degree from prob- 
 ability, the whole play, characters and all, in which the 
 ludicrous and astonishing are already so strangely mingled, 
 takes on the air of a fantastic and arbitrary creation. Only 
 the man whose matter-of-fact ness is above suspicion can 
 convince us that something unexpected is true ; and Mr. 
 Shaw deals almost entirely with the unexpected. The 
 points at which he has deviated from matter-of-fact plausi- 
 bility in this play are Dubedat's conduct in the studio and 
 on the night of the dinner ; Jennifer's behaviour in the 
 epilogue ; and the simultaneous morning visits, of the four 
 doctors with leading practices, on two separate occasions, 
 to the studio of an impoverished artist, where only one had 
 professional business. " Now," says the spectator to himself, 
 " the man who will bend facts like this, may well give human 
 
102 '' " ' '' * '»• t^HE' ^OU'RT THEATRE 
 
 nature a twist : I believe this is a clever puppet-show." He is 
 quite wrong, but the mistake is excusable. 
 
 The Philanderer 
 
 This is a queer piece of work, and finds its place very 
 properly among the " Unpleasant " plays. It was not very 
 successful at the Court for the reason that to make the play 
 intelligible, Charteris must be acted by some one who under- 
 stands him perfectly, and such a person probably does not 
 exist. Just as in the playing of Dubedat it is absolutely 
 necessary that the actor should bring out something in his 
 character, to explain why his victims never sent for the 
 police (which Mr. Barker succeeded in doing), so the actor 
 who takes the part of Charteris must make it clear why he 
 is not periodically kicked. He was exasperating and he was 
 disliked, but he was not that sort of person. This can only 
 be conveyed through something in his manner and in his 
 way of saying things. Mr. Webster in the part certainly 
 did not appear like a man who gets kicked ; but it was his 
 own dignity and his own personality, not Charteris's, that 
 were apparent. 
 
 Charteris is a very exceptional character. I hazard as an 
 explanation of his immunity and his influence on others, not 
 his wit or cleverness, but the impression he made of being a 
 fantastically honest man ; people instinctively felt that he had 
 administered to himself so many moral kickings as to make 
 any they could add an unnecessary impertinence. In one of 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 103 
 
 his talks with the discarded Julia, he says, " I confess I am 
 either something more or something less than a gentleman ; 
 you used to give me the benefit of the doubt." It is possible, 
 however, to be both at the same time, and that is precisely 
 what he was. Charteris's honesty in his philanderings 
 was morally superior to the code of the conventional gentle- 
 man in such matters, which is to continue to simulate 
 respect for the self-respect of the woman, when he knows 
 it to be a sham in which she does not believe herself, 
 in order that she may return the compliment ; but on the 
 other hand he fell far below the gentleman in the wanton 
 cruelty with which he used his cleverness to hurt his victims 
 without their being able to understand what he meant. He 
 was not a coxcomb physically or morally, his vanity was 
 superficial ; but intellectually he was a cruel coxcomb. For 
 instance, in one of his last interviews with Julia, he exclaims, 
 " Oh, what I have learnt from you ! — from you who could 
 learn nothing from me ! I made a fool of you, and you 
 brought me wisdom ; I broke your heart, and you brought 
 me joy ; I made you curse your womanhood, and you 
 revealed my manhood to me. Blessings, for ever and ever, on 
 my Julia's name ! " (with genuine emotion, he takes her hand 
 and kisses it). Julia, who does not understand, snatches 
 away her hand, saying, " Oh, stop talking that nasty 
 sneering stuff." Where Charteris behaves like a cad, is in 
 not leaving her alone after he has disentangled himself, 
 but in continuing to vivisect her when he knows she 
 can learn nothing from these painful experiments. His 
 general philandering he justified on the ground that it 
 
104 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 was always instructive to both parties ; here he had no 
 such excuse. 
 
 Again, the match between Dr. Paramore and Julia, which 
 is so much against her natural inclination, is engineered by 
 Charteris to free himself from her persecutions ; and there is 
 something so cruel in his using his cleverness and his know- 
 ledge of "the very pulse of the machine" to contrive it, 
 that the spectator is disgusted. 
 
 The play, like all artistic work which has aimed in its day 
 at being up-to-date, strikes us now as old-fashioned. It is 
 a product of the early eighteen-nineties, when Ibsen first 
 arrived as a moral prophet on our shores and people went 
 about trying to " realize themselves ; " when the moral 
 of The Doll's House was taken as the solution of marriage 
 and sex difficulties ; when women were very conscious 
 of being emancipated and determined to sink the " he and 
 she " in all relations and to " belong to themselves ; " in fact 
 of the period when The Heavenly Twins and The Woman 
 Who Did, and similar books appeared. 
 
 Mr. Shaw sympathized with the woman's movement, as his 
 Quintessence of Ibsenism remains to show ; but as a critical 
 observer he saw clearly enough that many women who 
 went in for emancipating themselves had not thrown off 
 the " old " woman when they put on the " new." This play 
 is a satire which exposes such women effectively enough. 
 However, the '* new woman " no longer exists, nor do such 
 old-fashioned fathers as Cuthbertson and Craven who talk 
 about " manly men and womanly women ; " so the satire 
 directed against them does not seem now to hit a mark 
 worth aiming at. 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 105 
 
 The kind of comedy extracted from the situations which 
 expose the wretched Julia, is not the kind to make one laugh. 
 A man in the clutches of a jealous termagant might chuckle 
 with delight to see Julia stripped and whipped ; but, really, 
 some kind of interested animus is necessary to appreciate this 
 kind of fun ; though there are witty things throughout the 
 dialogue which everybody can enjoy, such as this passage for 
 instance. 
 
 Charteris. I accuse you of stealing letters of mine. 
 
 Julia {rising). Yes, nice letters ! 
 
 Charteris. — Of breaking your solemn promises not to do it again ; of 
 spending hours — aye, days ! — piecing together the contents of my waste- 
 paper basket in your search for more letters. . . . 
 
 Julia. I was justified in reading your letters. Our perfect confidence 
 in one another gave me the right to do it. 
 
 Miss Wynne-Matthison played Grace Tranfield, who refuses 
 to marry the Philanderer, with perfect accuracy. The most 
 delightfully-acted character in the piece was Cuthbertson 
 (Mr. Luigi Lablache). 
 
 Major Barbara 
 
 I have not considered Major Barbara in its chronological 
 place, because it and Don Juan in Hell lead naturally to the 
 remarks upon Mr. Shaw's philosophy, with which it will be 
 well to end these criticisms of his plays. Major Barbara is 
 the story of a woman who lives in her religion and loses it ; 
 who, after enduring the desolation of seeing her own and all 
 the world's hope hang torn before her eyes, finds at last a 
 
io6 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 belief her passionate heart can live by. This account will 
 seem ridiculous to those who heard only the crackle of wit, 
 the rhetoric of theory, and brisk interchange of comment ; yet 
 it is the centre and significance of the play. 
 
 It is the first English play which has for its theme the 
 struggle between two religions in one mind. And to have 
 written upon that theme convincingly is a triumph, which 
 criticism cannot appreciably lessen. The second act is 
 " wonderful, most wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and 
 after that past all whooping." 
 
 Barbara is the daughter of the chief partner in the biggest 
 cannon-manufactory in the world. Her mother is a lady of 
 birth and position, " well mannered yet appallingly outspoken 
 and indifferent to the opinions of her interlocutors, arbitrary 
 and high-tempered to the last bearable degree, full of class 
 prejudices, conceiving the universe exactly as if it were a 
 large house in Wilton Crescent, though handling her corner of 
 it very effectively on that assumption." Barbara's parents 
 have been living apart for years. 
 
 When the play begins, the engagement of Lady Britomart's 
 two daughters to young men without money has compelled 
 her to ask her husband to call upon her in order that she 
 may persuade him to make a fitting provision for them. The 
 one daughter is a very ordinary society girl ; the other, 
 Barbara, has a genius for saving souls, and is already a 
 prominent officer in the Salvation Army. She is engaged 
 to Cusins, a professor of Greek, who fell in love with her and 
 proposed under the impression that she was an ordinary 
 Salvation Army lass. 
 
 The first act introduces these people, and its interest lies 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 107 
 
 in the return of Undershaft to the bosom of his family. 
 Lady Britomart was admirably played by Miss Filippi. On 
 Undershaft's being announced I had a vivid recollection of 
 her adjusting her spectacles and settling herself in a chair 
 facing the door with an admirable air of nervous decision. 
 Mr. Calvert's Undershaft was not nearly so good as his 
 blusterous Broadbent or his balmy " William *' ; for Under- 
 shaft was good-natured and easy-going on the surface but 
 fuliginous and formidable underneath, but Mr. Calvert was 
 complacent underneath and formidable on the surface. Of 
 all Undershaft's family Barbara alone interests him, and his 
 heart goes out to her, though he would resent such a de- 
 scription of his feelings. They both have religious natures, 
 but the beliefs of each are poles asunder. Each wishes to 
 convert the other, and they strike a bargain ; he will visit her 
 Salvation Army shelter, if she will afterwards visit his gun- 
 manufactory. The second act is laid at the shelter. 
 
 There is no space in which to dilate upon the pathos, 
 passion, and significant realism of this scene, or upon the 
 ironic ecstasy which Cusins contributes to it (imagine the 
 difficulty of acting such a purely intellectual passion !) but one 
 incident must be noted. Bill Walker, a bullying sort of 
 ruffian, slouches in to recover " his girl," who has been recently 
 converted ; and when one of the Salvation lasses tells him 
 she has gone away, he hits her in the mouth. Now, this 
 blow very nearly brings about his own conversion ; for Jenny 
 Hill does not resent it, and Major Barbara takes advantage 
 of the shame which begins to stir in him to make him more 
 and more uncomfortable. His impulse is to buy back his 
 peace of mind and self-respect by getting thrashed by his 
 
io8 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 girl's new Salvation Army "bloke," and failing in this, he 
 offers Jenny a sovereign. Barbara tells him he cannot buy his 
 salvation ; she wants to touch his heart, and if he were to 
 think he had made amends, he would go away as stupid and 
 brutal as he came. Her father all the while watches this 
 soul-saving process with grim sympathy. His chance comes 
 when the news arrives that Bodger, the whisky-distiller, 
 has offered a ;^5,ooo subscription if another ;^5,ooo can be 
 raised. The money is of vital importance to the Army ; 
 indeed this shelter will have to be closed i( funds are not 
 forthcoming. Barbara has already refused ;^ioo from her 
 father for the same reason that she refused Bill's twenty 
 shillings — because she wants her father to give up manu- 
 facturing the means of death ; and if he can ease his conscience 
 by being charitable, he will go on making money out of the 
 sufferings of men. But the Army does not attach so much 
 importance to the saving of Undershaft's soul, as to the 
 power his money will give them to help many others ; so 
 when he offers to make up the other ;^5,ooo they accept it 
 with grateful thanksgivings and Hallelujahs. This is a terrible 
 shock to Barbara, who realizes, for the first time, that the 
 power of the Army rests ultimately on the support of its worst 
 enemies ; who make the money they give away out of the 
 very misery and degradation which the Army fights. The 
 other side to this view is put by Mrs. Baines : " Who would 
 have thought that any good could have come out of war and 
 drink ? And yet their profits are brought to-day to the feet 
 of salvation to do its blessed work." Barbara sees that 
 Bodger " wants to send his cheque down to buy us and go on 
 being as wicked as ever " ; while Cusins exclaims with excited 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 109 
 
 irony, " The millennium will be inaugurated by the unselfish- 
 ness of Undershaft and Bodger. O be joyful ! " The Army 
 must accept the money, since they are powerless without it ; 
 but the fact that they are right to accept it, shows that they 
 are fighting a battle they can never win ; since if once they 
 begin to make real headway against Bodger, his subscriptions, 
 which are their means of victory, will be cut off. Barbara 
 realizes this on reflection ; but at the moment it is the 
 revelation of the spring whence the Army's power is drawn, 
 coupled with the object lesson that the Army cannot afford 
 to think of the individual soul while such supplies are in 
 question, which tumbles her faith to the ground. She is 
 quite certain that a crusade which draws its strength from 
 the evils it wishes to destroy, cannot put the world straight. 
 This is a criticism which hits all the Churches and all 
 Charitable Institutions in so far as they hope to do this. 
 From a revolutionist's point of view, they are also objection- 
 able, because they tend to keep the poor quiet, by making 
 them less discontented with conditions which they ought to 
 die rather than stand, and the rich from thinking they are 
 just and honest, by offering them opportunities of being 
 generous and kind ; in short, because they keep those who 
 should be indignant, servile, and those who ought to be 
 uneasy, self-satisfied. 
 
 Undershaft's gospel, on its social side, is to preach socialism 
 to the rich and rebellion to the poor, whereby he twists the 
 same rope from both ends. The most important fact to 
 insist upon is, therefore, the importance of money; tacitly, 
 this is recognized by every one ; the possession of comfortable 
 independence being everywhere the most universally powerful 
 
no THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 motive. But instead of blinking this fact and preaching 
 " Blessed are the poor," while taking care at the same time 
 to have a reliable source of income ourselves, we must preach 
 " Cursed be the poor," so that every poverty-stricken man 
 may either feel he has a grievance not to be borne, or be 
 ashamed of the feebleness which keeps him so. The way in 
 which Undershaft puts it is that poverty is literally the worst 
 of crimeSy and it follows from this assertion that a man is right 
 to commit any other crime to avoid that one, should circum- 
 stances force him into such a dilemma. Now this is a doctrine 
 that good sense refuses to swallow. How then did Undershaft 
 or Mr. Shaw come to believe it, and urge it with such 
 vehemence } 
 
 The temperament and interests of a reformer drive him to 
 look continually at results of actions and emotions in valuing 
 them rather than at these things themselves ; and since 
 poverty and ill-health are probably the causes of more evil 
 than is any single vice, the reformer slips more readily 
 than other people into the mistake of thinking that these 
 things are, in themselves, worse than any vice. But it is 
 clear that what may be a cause of evil is often not even 
 bad at all in itself, let alone not so bad as the evil; and 
 equally, that the means to good are often valueless in 
 themselves, compared to what they help to bring about. 
 That poverty is not bad in itself — is no more a crime 
 than is a broken leg — is so clear that if a man of Mr. 
 Shaw's talents had not said it was, no critic would bore 
 his reader with a refutation of such a statement. Bunyan 
 and Blake, whom Mr. Shaw praises with such liberality of 
 genuine admiration, were very poor; yet that they were 
 
THE COURT THEATRE in 
 
 among the most ignoble of criminals he himself would never 
 admit. 
 
 It is clear that poverty, like ill-health, is only bad 
 as a difficulty in the way of a fine life which a few 
 surmount, and that therefore the pretext of escaping from 
 it cannot justify the worst actions. Indeed, if Undershaft's 
 doctrine were generally believed, the only effect would be to 
 make poverty the cause of much more evil, of many more 
 acts of violence, oppression and meanness, than it is now. 
 Dubedat took every means in his power — blackmailing, 
 stealing, utilizing his wife's charms as bait — to escape poverty ; 
 yet I do not think Undershaft would have felt that he was 
 doing much to bring about a better state of things. 
 
 And Undershaft himself.? He talks very big about having 
 been prepared to kill anybody as long as he was poor ; but 
 what did he do ? Did he found his fortunes by knocking an 
 old woman on the head and stealing her watch, or by going 
 into partnership with a Mrs. Warren ? No, of course not ; 
 he stuck to his desk like a good young man, inched and 
 pinched until he had made himself useful to the firm, and then 
 took good care not to be put upon. Undershaft's weakness 
 lay in talking big ; that is really what his sensible wife could 
 not stand. In Act II he tells his son that he and Lazarus 
 are really the people who govern England, and decide 
 questions of war and peace; and in Act III he explains to 
 Cusins that he is a fool if he accepts the partnership in the 
 the hope of power, since he and Lazarus are in fact absolutely 
 powerless. In both cases he is talking big. 
 
 In this third and last act Barbara and her family visit 
 the town of Perivale St. Andrews. They find it is a clean. 
 
112 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 fine place, where everybody is well-fed and well-clad. It 
 is, in fact, a kind of socialistic community with this great 
 difference ; instead of being pervaded with a spirit of equality 
 and independence, the whole place is honey-combed with 
 snobbishness and petty oppression. This spirit is what 
 Barbara will spend her life now in fighting. Her work will 
 be amongst uppish, vulgar, prosperous self-satisfied people, 
 and her last speech is a paean of rejoicing that she will in 
 future never feel the humiliation of knowing that the truths 
 she has at heart are listened to because she distributes alms 
 at the same time. 
 
 The last act is weak on the stage ; indeed the defect of 
 the play is that Barbara's conversion is much less impressive 
 than the loss of her old religion. Miss Annie Russell, who was 
 so good in the first two acts, could make little of the third. 
 
 The moral of the play filtered from Undershaft's plutocratic 
 gospel would run as follows : that the ideal state is one in 
 which no one is poor ; that the ideal man is he who shifts vigor- 
 ously for himself ; that the best cure for the present anarchic 
 and miserable state of things, is that every individual should 
 become self-reliant and use the weapons which Undershaft 
 manufactures against those who oppress him ; that those who 
 have already some wealth and independence are the people 
 it is most profitable to teach what is good ; that to the rest 
 it is more important to preach rebellion. U Man and Super- 
 man is in a sense the cry of a reformer clinging to the idea 
 of selective breeding of mankind as the last hen-coop in the 
 wreck of his hopes, Major Barbara expresses the disappointed 
 impatience of a pamphleteer who gives up his belief in per- 
 suasion and turns to the swifter agency of force. The fallacy 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 113 
 
 which the play attacks with perfect justice, is that of preaching 
 to or of helping the poor simply because they dLtepoor. 
 
 The mistake into which Mr. Shaw slips of saying that 
 
 poverty is a crime far worse than murder or lust or 
 
 avarice, since it is perhaps a more constant cause of crime 
 
 and feebleness than any one of these, is a fallacy which in 
 
 one form or other often occurs in his writings. His great 
 
 defect as an artist-philosopher is that he does not distinguish 
 
 between those things which are bad as means and those 
 
 which are bad in themselves, or between what is good as an 
 
 end and what is only good as a means to that end ; that 
 
 when he judges the actions and emotions or the lives and 
 
 characters of men and women, his test is invariably — What 
 
 use are they } If he feels them to be useful as a means to 
 
 reforming society, then they are good ; if they cannot be 
 
 shown to be useful, or only to be less useful than something 
 
 else, then they are judged to be comparatively valueless. 
 
 But it is certain that qualities and things which are valuable 
 
 as means are not necessarily worth having for their own 
 
 sakes, and that things very good in themselves may not at 
 
 the same time be important as means to something else 
 
 worth having. And since this is indubitably true, it follows 
 
 that any one who judges the values of things from the point 
 
 of view of their results, and hardly ever asks himself whether 
 
 they have any value in themselves, must often get his scale of 
 
 values wrong. This is the most general criticism which can 
 
 be brought against the morality of the Shavian drama. A 
 
 great part of that originality of view which underlies the plays 
 
 is due to the fact that he judges goodness and badness by their 
 8 
 
114 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 results alone. The transvaluation which follows is often 
 startling ; actions which nobody thought particularly bad are 
 put in a class with the most heinous offences, and qualities 
 not commonly allowed to be claims upon the respect of 
 others are exalted above affection. In this he is often right, 
 because the goodness of things as a means may be an im- 
 portant part of their total value ; but he is, also, often wrong, 
 because the importance of anything as a means to something 
 else may be a very small part of its total value. For instance, 
 what are the qualities most extolled in his plays ? Vitality, 
 pugnacity, political and intellectual honesty, fearlessness and 
 universal benevolence : these are clearly useful. What are 
 the qualities and emotions which on the whole are depreciated 
 or pointedly ignored ? Personal affections, admiration, and 
 sensitiveness to beauty : these cannot be shown to be such 
 powerful means towards bringing about a better state of 
 society ; but are they not essential elements in that better 
 state itself? Mr. Shaw ignores the question of ultimate ends 
 so completely that when he defines Heaven, the ideal state, 
 he describes it as a community of men working towards 
 bringing it into existence. " In Heaven you live and work, 
 instead of playing and pretending, you face things as they 
 are ; you escape nothing but glamour, and your steadfastness 
 and your peril are your glory. . . . But even as you [the 
 devil] enjoy the contemplation of such romantic mirages as 
 beauty and pleasure, so would I enjoy the contemplation of 
 that which interests me about all things : namely, Life : the 
 force that ever strives to attain greater power of contemplating 
 itself." The point which I wish to insist upon here is not 
 that Mr. Shaw is not right in considering his Heaven superior 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 115 
 
 to his Hell — it obviously is ; but that his Heaven is not the 
 contemplation of what is perfect, but of something that is 
 struggling to become so. It is a condition in which there 
 is still peril, where you " face things as they are ; " in short, 
 a " community of saints " which is really a community of 
 reformers. Mr. Shaw describes them as filled with ** a passion 
 of the divine will ; " but this passion is a desire to make the 
 world better, and not a contemplation of perfection : in so 
 far as it is a contemplative ecstasy at all, it is only rapture 
 at the idea that perfection is possible. What chills us, then, 
 in his Heaven is the misgiving that the phrase " masters of 
 reality" (so the heavenly inhabitants are described) is a 
 euphemism for a society of people all devoted to making 
 each other and everybody else more virtuous. Now we can 
 imagine something better than that ; and Mr. Shaw's Hell, 
 if he had not been so grossly unfair to it, seems to offer a 
 better foundation for its construction. Hell is a community 
 in which personal relations and the contemplation of beauty 
 are the supreme goods. Mr. Shaw cheapens this ideal by 
 assuming that the only kind of love which can compete with 
 the fellow-service of heaven is a kind which might be worthily 
 sung by Sedley, or set to music by Offenbach, or depicted by 
 Fragonard. No one requires to be told that Mohammed's 
 paradise, however intellectualized and refined, is not the 
 highest good ; but what is instructive in Mr. Shaw's anti- 
 thesis is that he sets so much store by the contemplation of 
 what is both real and beautiful at the same time, raising this 
 above the contemplation of beauty or goodness which is not 
 accompanied by a true belief in the object. That this judg- 
 ment is a true one nobody can doubt ; what can be protested 
 
ii6 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 against with equal justice is the assumption that love between 
 individuals always implies contemplation of goodness and 
 beauty which cannot be believed to be real. 
 
 The performance of Don Juan in Hell could only have 
 been very interesting to those who enjoy an abstract dis- 
 cussion ; but as a spectacle it must have delighted all. 
 The dresses, designed by Mr. Charles Ricketts, were most 
 beautiful ; Mr. Robert Loraine's performance was a triumph 
 of memory, if not of elocution. Mr. Michael Sherbrooke, as 
 the Statue, declared his sentiments in an admirably military 
 voice. Miss McCarthy was particularly good as the old 
 woman, and radiant in her transformation. 
 
 The analysis of these eleven plays has not been elaborate 
 enough to require a summary ; but there are a few points 
 which may be added in conclusion. 
 
 As a dramatist Mr. Shaw's gift for caricature is a perpetual 
 temptation to him, leading him often to destroy the atmo- 
 sphere of reality which is so important to his plays. Though 
 his caricatures are good in themselves, he has not always 
 sufficient artistic self-control to keep them in their places. 
 Moreover, that emotional asceticism, which has been already 
 commented upon, is always tempting him to create in the 
 spectator the balance of mind and emotion he respects by 
 alternately touching him and making him laugh. This 
 method succeeds when the scene, rousing a mixed emotion 
 of sympathy and contempt, is a crude one, such as Broad- 
 bent's courting and comforting of Nora Reilly in John Bull's 
 Other Island. But frequently this cannot be done by a series 
 of consequent shocks; for the emotion which ought to be 
 roused by Mr. Shaw's situations is often too complex and 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 117 
 
 delicate to be produced by such galvanic methods. Sir 
 Ralph's harangue after the death of Dubedat is an instance 
 of its failure. 
 
 One character in The Doctor's Dilemma remarks, " Life 
 does not cease to be funny when people die any more than 
 it ceases to be serious when people laugh," which would be a 
 good motto for most of Mr. Shaw's plays. But what he 
 constantly overlooks, as an artist, is that for a man who is 
 feeling its tragedy, life does for the time cease to be comic. 
 He relies, then, as an artist, too much on an exceptional flexi- 
 bility of emotion in his audience. His weakness as a philo- 
 sopher is to judge the value of human beings and emotions 
 too exclusively by their usefulness towards furthering another 
 end ; as a propagandist, to under-rate the intelligence of the 
 average man. 
 
 His merits — if my criticisms have not suggested that these 
 are remarkable, I have utterly failed. He has drawn more 
 characters which are immediately recognized and understood 
 than any other English dramatist with the exception of 
 Shakespeare ; he has chosen for his subjects situations which 
 are really interesting ; and he has made us laugh and think 
 at the same time. 
 
 Every author of any power has a peculiar contagion. The 
 contagion that we catch from Mr. Shaw's plays is an ad- 
 miration for courage and intellectual honesty, and for a kind 
 of spontaneity of character which is a blending of both. His 
 plays attack hypocrisy by showing that men have more 
 reason to be ashamed of the disguises of their egotism, than 
 of their egotism itself. The influence of his writings tends 
 to make them found their self-respect rather on their 
 
ii8 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 indubitable qualities than on their aspirations, and to prevent 
 them looking for more in life and human nature than they are 
 likely to find. The intention of the greater part of his work 
 is to provide an antidote to romantic despair by forestalling 
 disillusionment, and to stimulate an active and gay resolution 
 in the place of an exasperated seclusion of spirit or indiffer- 
 ence, either gloomy or light. Its danger for some is to breed 
 in them such pride of courage in facing the triviality and 
 ugliness of life, that they come to hate an ideal which may be 
 better than reality, simply because it is not a fact. Mr. Shaw 
 often warns us against calling his golden grapes of riches sour, 
 but he has not warned us against disparaging celestial fruits, 
 because they are out of our reach. He has still to write his 
 Wz/d Duck, which I take it will be a satire on "The Shavians," 
 who derive a perverted gratification from the flatness of life 
 and from the stupendous extent of the social improvements 
 necessary, on account of the scope these offer for the exercise 
 of a light-hearted courage in " facing facts " and for triumph- 
 ing over more sensitive natures. All his work is marked by 
 a straightforward dexterity of execution, which is in itself 
 an aesthetic merit ; and almost every play he has written 
 stimulates that social consciousness of communal responsibility 
 upon which the hopes of reformers depend. 
 
 Conclusion 
 
 At the close of such a commentary as this, in which many 
 plays and many actors have been reviewed, it is natural to 
 wonder somewhat anxiously what general impression may 
 have been left behind ; to what extent exceptious observa- 
 
THE COURT THEATRE 119 
 
 tions may have seemed to detract unduly from achievement, 
 or how heavily expressions of admiration, owing to a general 
 depreciation in the currency of praise, may have been dis- 
 counted in the reader's mind. In consequence of such 
 misgivings critics are apt in their conclusions to relax the 
 stringency of their standards, and to fall into a strain of 
 almost obituary benevolence. When the subject of the 
 criticism is some author who has said his best, or some move- 
 ment which has done its work, such leniency is fitting enough; 
 but here, in the case of this enterprise, which has just finished 
 the first period of its career in triumph, and is starting on the 
 next with public gratitude and enthusiasm behind it, such 
 a tone would be absurdly inappropriate. It requires no 
 coddling at the hands of critics. I have not the least fear 
 that, among those who saw many of these plays, the record of 
 any blemishes will impair the favourable impressions they 
 received ; but in the case of those who saw none or only a 
 few, it is necessary to guard against possible misunderstand- 
 ing, should they ever read these pages. 
 
 It is common to complain of the censoriousness of gossip, 
 and to attribute the severity of such comments as pass behind 
 people's backs to ill-nature, when they were really due to the 
 fact that the most interesting truths about a particular person 
 happened to be concerned with his faults. In the same way, 
 and for the same reason, the critic finds himself dwelling upon 
 defects ; they may be even the defects of good qualities — a 
 needle cannot be sharp at both ends — but if they are more 
 interesting than the merits themselves he is bound to give 
 them close attention. Moreover, from those who give much, 
 much is expected. The reason why criticism is so liable to 
 
120 THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 get out of proportion is that the presence of some real merit 
 is necessary to rouse the critical faculty at all, with the result 
 that such works as possess it do not get praised in the 
 same whole-hearted fashion as those which cannot provoke 
 comparison with high achievement. 
 
 The work of the Vedrenne-Barker management has been 
 remarkable enough to challenge the highest standards, and 
 therefore to sharpen the eyes of critics. Certainly (if I may 
 speak for myself) I should not have felt so keenly when 
 anything was lacking in their performances had they not 
 shown me at the same time to what pitch of excellence it is 
 possible to attain. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 The following pages contain exact reprints of all programmes of 
 the *' Vedrenne -Barker " management,^ except in half-a:dozen 
 instances when plays were revived with casts identical or almost 
 identical with those of previous runs ; such revivals and alterations 
 are noted at the foot of the earlier programmes. The programmes 
 are arranged in chronological order according to the date of the 
 first performance of each run. 
 
 " The Vedrenne-Barker Performances," strictly speaking, began 
 on October i8, 1904, and lasted at the Court Theatre until June 29, 
 1907. During that time 32 plays by 17 authors were produced, 
 and 946 performances were given ; but, since one triple-bill and four 
 double-bills were included, the total number of performances of 
 separate plays amounts to 988, distributed amongst authors as 
 follows : — 
 
 Shaw (11 plays) 
 
 701 
 
 Hauptmann 
 
 9 
 
 Housman and Barker 
 
 48 
 
 Schnitzler 
 
 9 
 
 Euripides (3 plays) . 
 
 . 48 
 
 Yeats . 
 
 9 
 
 Barker . 
 
 34 
 
 C. Harcourt . 
 
 8 
 
 Galsworthy 
 
 29 
 
 Masefield 
 
 8 
 
 Hankin (2 plays) 
 
 27 
 
 Maeterlinck 
 
 6 
 
 Robins . 
 
 23 
 
 R. V. Harcourt 
 
 2 
 
 Ibsen (2 plays) 
 
 13 
 
 Fenn 
 
 2 
 
 Hewlett (2 plays) . 
 
 12 
 
 
 988 
 
 * The first programme, of six matindes of Candida in April and May, 1904, is 
 included as showing the beginning of these performances ; but they are not 
 regarded as belonging strictly to the " Vedrenne-Barker " series, and are not 
 counted in the ensuing table, nor in the above figures. 
 
 123 
 
PLAY. 
 
 AUTHOR. 
 
 w5 
 a 
 u 
 is 
 
 < 
 
 PROGRAMMES 
 
 
 
 
 ON PAGE 
 
 Man and Superman . 
 
 Bernard Shaw 
 
 176 
 
 138, 
 
 143, 158, 168 
 
 You Never Can Tell 
 
 )i >> 
 
 149 
 
 136, 
 
 -9, 154, 162 
 
 John Bull's Other Island . 
 
 >y >> 
 
 121 
 
 127, 131,-5, 140, 
 
 Capt. Brassbound's Conversion . 
 
 >» j» 
 
 89 
 
 Major Barbara .... 
 
 >> >> 
 
 52 
 
 145, 
 
 146 
 
 The Doctor's Dilemma . 
 
 it n 
 
 50 
 
 159 
 
 
 Prunella 
 
 Housman and Barker 
 
 48 
 
 130, 
 
 153, 167 
 
 The Voysey Inheritance . 
 
 Granville Barker 
 
 34 
 
 144, 
 
 149 
 
 Candida 
 
 Bernard Shaw 
 
 31 
 
 i25,--9, 137 
 
 The Silver Box . 
 
 J. Galsworthy 
 
 29 
 
 156, 
 
 164 
 
 Votes for Women 
 
 Elizabeth Robins 
 
 23 
 
 165 
 
 
 TheElectra .... 
 
 Euripides 
 
 20 
 
 147 
 
 
 The Hippolytus 
 
 >» 
 
 20 
 
 126, 
 
 152 
 
 The Return of the Prodigal 
 
 St. John Hankm 
 
 19 
 
 141, 
 
 166 
 
 The Thieves' Comedy 
 
 G. Hauptmann 
 
 9 
 
 133 
 
 
 The Pot of Broth 
 
 W. B. Yeats 
 
 9 
 
 ] 
 
 
 In the Hospital 
 
 A. Schnitzler 
 
 9 
 
 132 
 
 (triple bill) 
 
 How he Lied to her Husband . 
 
 Bernard Shaw 
 
 9 
 
 i 
 
 
 The Trojan Women 
 
 Euripides 
 
 8 
 
 134 
 
 
 The Charity that began at Home 
 
 St. John Hankin 
 
 8 
 
 157 
 
 
 The Reformer .... 
 
 Cyril Harcourt 
 
 8 
 
 \i6o 
 / 
 
 (double bill) 
 
 The Campden Wonder . . . 
 
 John Masefield 
 
 8 
 
 
 The Philanderer 
 
 Bernard Shaw 
 
 8 
 
 161 
 
 
 Don Juan in Hell 
 
 »» >» 
 
 8 
 
 }i69 
 
 (double bill) 
 
 The Man of Destiny . 
 
 »> >> 
 
 8 
 
 
 HeddaGabler .... 
 
 Henrik Ibsen 
 
 7 
 
 163 
 
 
 Aglavaine and Selysette . 
 
 M. Maeterlinck 
 
 6 
 
 128 
 
 
 The Wild Duck 
 
 Henrik Ibsen 
 
 6 
 
 142 
 
 
 Pan and the Young Shepherd . 
 The Youngest of the Artels 
 
 Maurice Hewlett 
 >» »> 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 }.. 
 
 (double bill) 
 
 A Question of Age . 
 The Convict on the Hearth 
 
 R. V. Harcourt 
 F. Fenn 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 988 
 
 }i48 
 
 (double bill) 
 
 124 
 
1904. 
 
 April 26th, 29th, May 3rd, 5th, 6th, and loth. 
 
 CANDIDA 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Candida Miss KATE RORKE 
 
 Proserpine Garnett Miss SYDNEY FAIR 
 
 BROTHER 
 
 The Rev. James Mavor Morell Mr. NORMAN McKINNEL 
 
 Eugene Marchbanks Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Mr. Burgess Mr. A. G. POULTON 
 
 The Rev. Alexander Mill ... Mr. ATHOL STEWART 
 
 The Action takes place at St. Dominic's Vicarage, Victoria 
 
 Park, E. 
 
 An October Day, 1894. 
 
 Act I. Morning. Act II. Afternoon. Act III. Evening. 
 
 Note. — These performances are not counted in the enumeration of the 
 Vedrenne- Barker series. 
 
 125 
 
1904. 
 
 On October i8th, 20th, 21st, 25th, 27th and 
 28th, at 3 p.m., 
 
 THE HIPPOLYTUS OF 
 : EURIPIDES 
 
 Translated by Gilbert Murray. 
 
 The Goddess Aphrodite 
 The Goddess Artemis 
 Theseus {King of Athens and 
 
 Troztfi) 
 Phaedra {Daughter of MtnoSy 
 
 King of Crete ^ Wife of Theseus) 
 Hippolytus {Bastard son of 
 
 Theseus and the Amazon 
 
 Hippolyte) ... 
 Henchman 
 An Old Huntsman 
 The Nurse 
 Leader of Chorus 
 
 Miss ELINOR FOSTER 
 Miss GWENDOLEN BISHOP 
 
 Mr. ALFRED BRYDONE 
 
 Miss EDYTH OLIVE 
 
 Mr. BEN WEBSTER 
 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Mr. A. E. GEORGE 
 
 Miss ROSINA FILIPPI 
 
 Miss TITA BRAND 
 
 Chorus of Troxenean Women : 
 
 Miss Florence Farr, Miss Dorothy Thomas, 
 
 Miss Amy Lamborn, Miss May Martyn, 
 
 Miss Maud Yates, Miss Inthea Pitz, 
 
 Miss Inescourt, Miss Florence Stone, 
 
 Miss Deros, Miss Sandberg, 
 
 Miss Gertrude Aylward, Miss Weigall. 
 126 
 
1904. 
 
 On November ist, 3rd, 4th, 8th, loth, and nth, 
 1904, at 2.30 p.m., 
 
 JOHN BULL'S OTHER 
 ISLAND 
 
 A New and Unpublished Play by Bernard Shaw, 
 
 Broadbent 
 Larry Doyle ... 
 Tim Haffigan ... 
 Hodson 
 Keegan 
 
 Patsy Farrell ... 
 Father Dempsey 
 Corney Doyle . . . 
 Barney Doran... 
 Matthew Haffigan 
 Aunt Judy 
 Nora ... 
 
 Act L ... 
 
 Act IL — Scene I. 
 
 Scene IL 
 
 Act III 
 
 Act IV. — Scene I. 
 Scene IL 
 
 Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 Mr. J. L. SHINE 
 Mr. PERCIVAL STEVENS 
 Mr. NIGEL PLAYFAIR 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 Mr. GRAHAM BROWNE 
 Mr. CHARLES DALY 
 Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 Mr. WILFRED SHINE 
 Mr. A. E. GEORGE 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 Miss ELLEN O'MALLEY 
 
 Office of Broadbent & Doyle, Civil 
 Engineers, Great George Street, West- 
 minster. 
 
 Rosscullen Hill. 
 
 The Round Tower. 
 
 The Grass Plot before Corney Doyle's 
 House. 
 
 The Parlour at Corney Doyle's. 
 
 Rosscullen Hill. 
 127 
 
1904. 
 
 On November 15th, 17th, 18th, 22nd, 24th and 
 25th, at 2.30 p.m. 
 
 AGLAVAINE AND 
 SELYSETTE 
 
 By Maeterlinck, 
 and translated by Alfred Sutro. 
 
 Aglavaine 
 
 Selysette 
 
 Yssaline 
 
 Meligraine 
 
 Meleander 
 
 Miss EDYTH OLIVE 
 Miss THYRZA NORMAN 
 Miss MARION PLARR 
 Miss FLORENCE FARR 
 Mr. WALTER HAMPDEN 
 
 The Incidental Music composed by Mr. Donald Tovey. 
 Orchestra under the direction of Mr. Theodore Stier. 
 
 128 
 
1904. 
 
 On November 29th, December ist, 2nd, 6th, 
 
 8th, and 9th, at 3. 
 
 Extra Performances : Nov. 26th, at 3 and 8.30, 
 
 Dec. loth, at 3 and 8.30. 
 
 CANDIDA 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Candida Miss KATE RORKE 
 
 Prosperine Garnett Miss SYDNEY FAIR 
 
 BROTHER 
 
 The Rev. James Mavor Morell Mr. C. V. FRANCE 
 
 Eugene Marchbanks Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Mr. Burgess Mr. EDWARD SASS 
 
 The Rev. Alexander Mill ... Mr. ATHOL STEWART 
 
 The Action takes place at St. Dominic's Vicarage, Victoria 
 
 Park, E. 
 
 An October Day, 1894. 
 
 Act I. Morning. Act II. Afternoon. Act III. Evening. 
 
 129 
 
1904-5- 
 On December 23rd. 
 
 PRUNELLA 
 Or, Love in a Dutch Garden 
 
 A Play, in Three Acts, for Grown-up Children. 
 
 By Laurence Housman and Granville Barker. 
 
 The Music by Joseph Moorat. 
 
 Pierrot . . . 
 Scaramel 
 Kennel . . . 
 Callow ... 
 Mouth ... 
 Hawk . . . 
 Tawdry... 
 Doll ... 
 Romp ... 
 Coquette 
 Prim ... 
 Privacy... 
 Prude ... 
 Queer ... 
 Quaint . . . 
 I St Gardener 
 2nd Gardener 
 3rd Gardener 
 4th Gardener 
 Boy ... 
 Statue of Love 
 Prunella 
 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Mr. HARRY DODD 
 
 Mr. REGINALD RIVINGTON 
 
 Mr. JOHN W. DEVERELL 
 
 Mr. ORLANDO BARNETT 
 
 Mr. GEORGE TROLLOPE 
 
 Miss HELEN GRENVILLE 
 
 Miss MARGARET BUSSE 
 
 Miss FLORENCE REDFERN 
 
 Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 
 Miss VIOLET VAUGHAN 
 
 Miss NORA GREENLAW 
 
 Miss AGNES HILL 
 
 Miss EMILY GROVE 
 
 Miss ALICE ARDEN 
 
 Mr. TOM PAULTON 
 
 Mr. T. HESLEWOOD 
 
 Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 
 Mr. F. GROVE 
 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 
 Miss THYRZA NORMAN 
 
 Scene. — The Dutch Garden. 
 The Orchestra conducted by Mr. S. P. V^addington. 
 
 130 
 
1905. 
 
 On February 7th, 9th, loth, 14th, i6th, 17th, 
 2ist, 23rd, 24th, at 2.30 p.m. 
 
 [March 1 1 , special evening performance for 
 H.M. the King.] 
 
 JOHN BULL'S OTHER 
 ISLAND 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Broadbent 
 Larry Doyle ., 
 Tim Haffigan ., 
 Hodson 
 Keegan 
 
 Patsy Farrell . 
 Father Dempsey 
 Corney Doyle . . 
 Barney Doran . 
 Matthew Haffigan 
 Aunt Judy 
 Nora . . . 
 
 Act L ... 
 
 Act IL — Scene L 
 
 Scene IL 
 
 Act III 
 
 Act IV. — Scene I. 
 Scene II. 
 
 Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 Mr. C. M. HALLARD 
 Mr. PERCIVAL STEVENS 
 Mr. GEORGE TROLLOPE 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 Mr. J. D. BEVERIDGE 
 Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 Mr. WILFRED SHINE 
 Mr. A. E. GEORGE 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 Miss ELLEN O'MALLEY 
 
 Office of Broadbent & Doyle, Civil 
 Engineers, Great George Street, West- 
 minster. 
 
 Rosscullen Hill. 
 
 The Round Tower. 
 
 The Grass Plot before Corney Doyle's 
 House. 
 
 The Parlour at Corney Doyle's. 
 
 Rosscullen Hill. 
 
 131 
 
1905. 
 
 On February 28th, March 2nd, 3rd, 7th, 9th, 
 loth, 14th, 1 6th, 17th, at 2.30 p.m. 
 
 THE POT OF BROTH 
 
 By W. B. Yeats. 
 
 John Coneely. 
 Sibby Coneely 
 A Tramp 
 
 Mr. GEORGE F. TULLY 
 Miss AMY LAMBORN 
 Mr. ROBERT PATEMAN 
 
 IN THE HOSPITAL 
 
 By Arthur Schnitzler. 
 Translated by Christopher Home. 
 
 Karl Rademacher 
 Florian Schubart 
 Alexander Weihgart 
 Dr. Lantner ... 
 Dr. Tann 
 Juliana Paschanda 
 
 Mr. J. D. BEVERIDGE 
 Mr. GEORGE TROLLOPE 
 Mr. RUDGE HARDING 
 Mr. HOWARD STURGE 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Miss ISABEL GREY 
 
 Scene. — An Extra Ward in the Vienna General Hospital. 
 
 HOW 
 
 Her Lover 
 Her Husband... 
 Herself 
 
 HE LIED TO HER 
 HUSBAND 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Mr. A. G. POULTON 
 
 Miss GERTRUDE KINGSTON 
 
 Scene. — Her Flat in Cromwell Road. 
 132 
 
1905. 
 
 On March 21st, 23rd, 24th, 28th, 30th, 31st; 
 April 4th, 6th, 7th, at 2.30. 
 
 THE THIEVES' COMEDY 
 
 By Gerhart Hauptmann. 
 Translated by Christopher Home. 
 
 Frau Wolff ... 
 
 Miss ROSIN A FILIPPI 
 
 Frau Motes ... 
 
 ... Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 
 Adelheid 
 
 ... Miss SYDNEY FAIR- 
 
 
 BROTHER 
 
 Leontine 
 
 ... Miss GRETA HAHN 
 
 Von Wehrhahn 
 
 Mr. W. LUGG 
 
 Kruger 
 
 Mr. WILLIAM FARREN, Junr. 
 
 Fleischer 
 
 ... Mr. HENRY VIBART 
 
 Motes 
 
 ... Mr. RUDGE HARDING 
 
 Julius Wolff ... 
 
 ... Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 
 Wulkoff 
 
 ... Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Glasenapp 
 
 ... Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Mitteldorf 
 
 ... Mr. HARRY DODD 
 
 Philip 
 
 ... Master TONGE 
 
 Acts I. and III. Frau WolfF's Cottage. 
 
 Acts IL and IV. The Magistrate's Office. 
 
 ^33 
 
1905. 
 
 On April nth, 13th, 14th, i8th, 20th, 25th, 
 27th, 28th, at 2.30. 
 
 THE TROJAN WOMEN OF 
 EURIPIDES 
 
 Translated by Gilbert Murray. 
 
 The God Poseidon ... 
 
 The Goddess Pallas Athena 
 
 Hecuba 
 
 Cassandra 
 
 Andromache . . . 
 
 Helen 
 
 Talthybius 
 
 Menelaus 
 
 Leader of the Chorus 
 
 Mr. CHARLES A. DORAN 
 
 Miss ADA FERRAR 
 
 Miss MARIE BREMA 
 
 Miss EDYTH OLIVE 
 
 Miss EDITH WYNNE- 
 MATTHISON 
 
 Miss GERTRUDE KINGSTON 
 
 Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 
 Mr. DENNIS EADIE 
 
 Miss FLORENCE FARR 
 
 Chorus : 
 
 Mrs. Bishop, Miss Amy Lamborn, 
 
 Miss N. PowYs, Miss Hazel Thompson, 
 
 Mrs. Wheeler, Miss Maud Yates. 
 
 134 
 
1905. 
 
 For Three Weeks Only. 
 
 Commencing on Monday, May ist, 1905. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15, 
 
 And Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 JOHN BULL'S OTHER 
 ISLAND 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Broadbent 
 
 Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 
 Larry Doyle ... 
 
 
 ... Mr. C. M. HALLARD 
 
 Tim Haffigan ... 
 
 
 ... Mr. A. G. POULTON 
 
 Hodson 
 
 
 .. Mr. NIGEL PLAYFAIR 
 
 Keegan 
 
 
 .. Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Patsy Farrell ... 
 
 
 .. Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Father Dempsey 
 
 
 .. Mr. J. D. BEVERIDGE 
 
 Corney Doyle ... 
 
 
 ... Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 
 Barney Doran... 
 
 
 .. Mr. WILFRED SHINE 
 
 Matthew Haffigan 
 
 
 .. Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Aunt Judy 
 
 
 .. Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 
 Nora ... 
 
 
 .. Miss LILLAH McCARTHY 
 
 Act I 
 
 Office of Broadbent k Doyle, Civil 
 
 
 Engineers, Great George Street, West- 
 
 
 minster. 
 
 Act IL— Scene I. 
 
 Rosscullen Hill. 
 
 Scene IL 
 
 The Round Tower. 
 
 Act III 
 
 The Grass Plot before Corney Doyle's 
 
 
 House. 
 
 Act IV.— Scene I. 
 
 The Parlour at Corney Doyle's. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Rosscullen Hill. 
 
 135 
 
1905. 
 
 On May 2nd, 4th, 5th, 9th, nth, 12th, i6th, 
 1 8th, 19th, at 2.30, 
 
 YOU NEVER CAN TELL 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Mrs. Clandon 
 
 Mrs. THEODORE WRIGHT 
 
 Gloria Clandon 
 
 Miss TITA BRAND 
 
 Dolly Clandon 
 
 Miss SYDNEY FAIR 
 
 
 BROTHER 
 
 Philip Clandon 
 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Fergus Crampton 
 
 Mr. J. D. BEVERIDGE 
 
 Finch McComas 
 
 Mr. J. H. BARNES 
 
 Valentine 
 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Bohun ... 
 
 Mr. NIGEL PLAYFAIR 
 
 The Waiter 
 
 Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 
 A Parlour Maid 
 
 . Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 
 Act I. A Dentist's Operating Room — Morning. 
 Act II. The Marine Hotel — Luncheon. 
 Act hi. Sitting Room in the Hotel — Afternoon Tea. 
 Act IV. Sitting Room in the Hotel — After Dinner. 
 Scene. — At the Seaside. 
 Time. — The Present. 
 136 
 
1905. 
 
 For Three Weeks only. 
 
 Commencing on Monday, May 22nd, 1905. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.30, 
 
 And Wednesday Matinee at 3. 
 
 CANDIDA 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Candida Miss KATE RORKE 
 
 Proserpine Garnett Miss SYDNEY FAIR- 
 BROTHER 
 
 The Rev. James Mavor Morell Mr. C. V. FRANCE 
 
 Eugene Marchbanks ... ... Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Mr. Burgess Mr. A. G. POULTON 
 
 The Rev. Alexander Mill ... Mr. HUBERT HARBEN 
 
 The Action takes place at St. Dominic's Vicarage, Victoria 
 
 Park, E. 
 
 An October Day, 1894. 
 
 Act I. Morning. Act II. Afternoon. Act III. Evening. 
 
 137 
 
1905. 
 
 On May 23rd, 25th, 26th, 30th ; June ist, 2nd, 
 6th5 8th, 9th, 13th, 15th, 1 6th, at 2.30. 
 
 MAN AND SUPERMAN 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Roebuck Ramsden 
 Octavius Robinson 
 John Tanner ... 
 Henry Straker... 
 Hector Malone 
 Mr. Malone ... 
 Ann Whitefield 
 Mrs. Whitefield 
 Miss Ramsden 
 Violet Robinson 
 Parlour Maid ... 
 
 Mr. CHARLES GOODHART 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Mr. HUBERT HARBEN 
 Mr. J. D. BEVERIDGE 
 Miss LILLAH MCCARTHY 
 Miss FLORENCE HAYDON 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 Miss SARAH BROOKE 
 Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 
 Act L Portland Place. Roebuck Ramsden*s Study. 
 Act II. Richmond. The Avenue to Mrs. Whitefield's House. 
 Act in. At Granada. The Villa Garden. 
 Period. — The Present Time. 
 
 138 
 
1905. 
 
 For Three Weeks only. 
 
 Commencing on Monday, June 12th, 1905. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15, 
 
 And Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 YOU NEVER CAN TELL 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Mrs. Clandon 
 
 ... Mrs. THEODORE WRIGHT 
 
 Gloria Clandon 
 
 ... Miss TITA BRAND 
 
 Dolly Clandon 
 
 ... Miss SYDNEY FAIR 
 
 
 BROTHER 
 
 Philip Clandon 
 
 ... Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Fergus Crampton 
 
 ... Mr. J. D. BEVERIDGE 
 
 Finch McComas 
 
 ... Mr. J. H. BARNES 
 
 Valentine 
 
 ... Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Bohun 
 
 ... Mr. NIGEL PLAYFAIR 
 
 The Waiter 
 
 ... Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 
 A Parlour Maid 
 
 ... Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 
 Act I. A Dentist's Operating Room — Morning. 
 Act 1 1. The Marine Hotel — Luncheon. 
 Act hi. Sitting Room in the Hotel— Afternoon Tea. 
 Act IV. Sitting Room in the Hotel — After Dinner. 
 Scene. — At the Seaside. 
 Time. — The Present. 
 139 
 
1905. 
 
 Commencing on Monday, September nth, 1905, 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15, 
 
 And Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 JOHN BULL'S OTHER 
 ISLAND 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Broadbent 
 
 . Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 
 Larry Doyle 
 
 . Mr. DANIEL McCARTHY 
 
 Tim Haffigan 
 
 .. Mr. EDMUND LEA 
 
 Hodson 
 
 . Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Keegan 
 
 . Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Patsy Farrell 
 
 . Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Father Dempsey 
 
 .. Mr. J. H. BARNES 
 
 Comey Doyle 
 
 .. Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 
 Barney Doran... 
 
 .. Mr. WILFRED SHINE 
 
 Matthew Haffigan 
 
 .. Mr. A. E. GEORGE 
 
 Aunt Judy 
 
 . Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 
 Nora 
 
 . Miss LILLAH McCARTHY 
 
 Act I. 
 
 Act II. — Scene I. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Act III 
 
 Act IV. — Scene I. 
 Scene II. 
 
 Office of Broadbent & Doyle, Civil 
 Engineers, Great George Street, West- 
 minster. 
 
 Rosscullen Hill. 
 
 The Round Tower. 
 
 The Grass Plot before Corney Doyle's 
 House. 
 
 The Parlour at Corney Doyle's. 
 
 Rosscullen Hill. 
 
 140 
 
1905. 
 
 On September 26th, 29th ; October 3rd, 6th, 
 loth, 13th, at 2.30. 
 
 THE RETURN OF THE 
 PRODIGAL 
 
 A Comedy, in Four Acts, by St. John Hankin. 
 
 Samuel Jackson 
 Mrs. Jackson ... 
 Henry Jackson 
 Eustace Jackson 
 Violet Jackson 
 Sir John Faringford, 
 Lady Faringford 
 Stella Faringford 
 Doctor Glaisher 
 The Rev. Cyril Pratt 
 Mrs. Pratt 
 Baines 
 
 Bart. 
 
 Mr. J. H. BARNES 
 Miss FLORENCE HAYDON 
 Mr. DENNIS EADIE 
 Mr. A. E. MATTHEWS 
 Miss AMY LAMBORN 
 Mr. ARTHUR APPLIN 
 Miss HILDA RIVERS 
 Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 Mr. F. W. PERMAIN 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 The Action of the Play takes place at Chedleigh Court. 
 Act I. The Drawing Room. 
 Act n. The Breakfast Room. 
 
 Act IIL (Ten days have elapsed since Act 11.) The Lavvrn. 
 Act IV. The Dravi^ing Room. 
 
 141 
 
1905. 
 
 On October 17th, 20th, 24th, 27th, 31st, and 
 November 3rd, at 2.30. 
 
 THE WILD DUCK 
 
 A Play, in Five Acts, by Henrik Ibsen. 
 
 Werle ... 
 Gregers Werle. 
 Ekdal ... 
 Hialmar Ekdal 
 Gina Ekdal 
 Hedvig. . . 
 Mrs. Sorby 
 Relling... 
 Molvik . . . 
 Graberg 
 Pattersen 
 Jensen . . . 
 Another Waiter 
 Kasperen 
 Flor ... 
 Balle ... 
 Another Gentleman 
 
 Mr. OSCAR ADYE 
 
 Mr. SCOTT BUIST 
 
 Mr. A. E. GEORGE 
 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER* 
 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 
 Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 
 Miss ADA FERRAR 
 
 Mr. MATHESON LANG 
 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Mr. FREDERICK LLOYD 
 
 Mr. C. L. DELPH 
 
 Mr. R. F. KNOX 
 
 Mr. L. HAMER 
 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Mr. KENELM F. FOSS 
 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 
 Act I. Werle's Study. 
 Acts XL, IIL, IV., and V. Hialmar Ekdal^s Studio. 
 
 * The part was played on Oct. 27th, 31st, and Nov. 3rd by Mr. 
 Trevor Lowe. 
 
 142 
 
1905. 
 
 Commencing on Monday, October 23rd, 1905. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15, 
 
 And Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 MAN AND SUPERMAN 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Roebuck Ramsden 
 Octavius Robinson 
 John Tanner ... 
 Henry Straker... 
 Hector Malone 
 Mr. Malone ... 
 Ann Whitefield 
 Mrs. Whitefield 
 Miss Ramsden 
 Violet Robinson 
 Parlour Maid ... 
 
 Mr. J. H. BARNES 
 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Mr. JAMES CAREW 
 
 Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 
 Miss LILLAH MCCARTHY 
 
 Miss FLORENCE HAYDON 
 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 
 Miss SARAH BROOKE 
 
 Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 
 Act I. Portland Place. Roebuck Ramsden's Study. 
 
 Act II. Richmond. The Avenue to Mrs. Whitefield*s House. 
 
 Act III. At Granada. The Villa Garden. 
 
 Period. — The Present Time. 
 143 
 
1905. 
 
 On November 7th, loth, 14th, 17th, 21st, and 
 24th, at 2.30. 
 
 THE VOYSEY INHERITANCE 
 
 A Play, in Five Acts, by Granville Barker. 
 
 Mr. Voysey 
 
 Mrs. Voysey ... 
 Trenchard Voysey, K.C. 
 Honor Voysey 
 
 Major Booth Voysey 
 
 Mrs. Booth Voysey (Emily).. 
 
 Christopher 
 
 Edward Voysey 
 
 Hugh Voysey ... 
 
 Mrs. Hugh Voysey (Beatrice) 
 
 Ethel Voysey .. 
 
 Denis Tregoning 
 
 Alice Maitland 
 
 Mr. Booth 
 
 The Rev. Evan Colpus 
 
 Peacey 
 
 Phoebe 
 
 Mary 
 
 Mr. A. E. GEORGE 
 
 Miss FLORENCE HAYDON 
 
 Mr. EUGENE MAYEUR 
 
 Miss GERALDINE OLLIFFE 
 
 Mr. CHARLES FULTON 
 
 Miss GRACE EDWIN 
 
 HARRY C. DUFF 
 
 Mr. THALBERG CORBETT 
 
 Mr. DENNIS EADIE 
 
 Miss HENRIETTA WATSON 
 
 Miss ALEXANDRA CARLISLE 
 
 Mr. FREDERICK LLOYD 
 
 Miss MABEL HACKNEY 
 
 Mr. O. B. CLARENCE 
 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 
 Miss GWYNNETH GALTON 
 
 Mrs. FORDYCE 
 
 Acts L and IV. At the Office of Voysey & Son, 
 
 Lincoln's Inn. 
 Acts II., III., and V. At Bramleyfield, Chislehurst 
 144 
 
 in 
 
1905. 
 
 On November 28th, December ist, 5th, 8th, 
 lath, and 15th, at 2.30. 
 
 MAJOR BARBARA 
 
 A Discussion, in Three Acts, by Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Lady Britomart Undershaft 
 
 Stephen Undershaft 
 
 Morrison 
 
 Barbara Undershaft 
 
 Sarah Undershaft 
 
 Charles Lomax 
 
 Adolphus Cusins 
 
 Andrew Undershaft 
 
 Rummy Mitchens 
 
 Snobby Price 
 
 Jenny Hill 
 
 Peter Shirley 
 
 Bill Walker 
 
 Mrs. Baines 
 
 Bilton ... 
 
 Miss ROSINA FILIPPI 
 Mr. HUBERT HARBEN 
 Mr. C. L. DELPH 
 Miss ANNIE RUSSELL 
 Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 Mr. DAWSON MILWARD 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 Miss CLARE GREET 
 Mr. ARTHUR LACEBY 
 Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 Mr. OSWALD YORKE 
 Miss E. WYNNE-MATTHISON 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 The characters are put in the order in which they come on the stage. 
 
 Ti 
 
 ime. 
 
 Act I. 
 Act IL 
 Act III. 
 
 Three successive days in January, 1906. 
 Place. — London. 
 ... The Library in Lady Britomart Under- 
 
 shaft's House in Wilton Crescent. 
 ... The West Ham Shelter of the Salvation 
 Army. 
 Scene I. The Library in Wilton Crescent. 
 Scene II. Among the high explosive Sheds at the 
 Arsenal of Messrs. Undershaft & 
 Lazarus, near the model tow^n of 
 Perivale St. Andrew^s. 
 
 10 
 
 145 
 
1906. 
 
 For Six Weeks only. 
 
 Commencing on Monday, January ist, 1906. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15, 
 
 And Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 MAJOR BARBARA 
 
 A Discussion, in Three Acts, by Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Lady Britomart Undershaft ... Miss MADGE McINTOSH 
 
 Stephen Undershaft .. 
 
 ... Mr. HUBERT HARBEN 
 
 Morrison 
 
 ... Mr. C L. DELPH 
 
 Sarah Undershaft 
 
 ... Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 
 Barbara Undershaft .. 
 
 ... Miss ANNIE RUSSELL 
 
 Charles Lomax 
 
 ... Mr. F. LUMSDEN HARE 
 
 Adolphus Cusins 
 
 ... Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 
 Andrew Undershaft ... 
 
 ... Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 
 Rummy Mitchens 
 
 ... Miss CLARE GREET 
 
 Snobby Price ... 
 
 ... Mr. ARTHUR LACEBY 
 
 Jenny Hill 
 
 ... Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 
 Peter Shirley 
 
 ... Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 
 Bill Walker 
 
 ... Mr. OSWALD YORKE 
 
 Mrs. Baines 
 
 . . . Miss E. WYNNE-M ATTHISON 
 
 Bilton 
 
 ... Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 The characters are put 
 
 in the order in which they come on the stage. 
 
 Time. — Three successive days in January, 1906. 
 
 Place. — London. 
 Act I. ... ... The Library in Lady Britomart Under- 
 
 shaft's House in Wilton Crescent. 
 Act II. . . . ... The West Ham Shelter of the Salvation Army. 
 
 Act III. Scene I. The Library in Wilton Crescent. 
 
 Scene II. Among the high explosive Sheds at the 
 
 Arsenal of Messrs. Undershaft & Lazarus, 
 
 near the model town of Perivale St. 
 
 Andrews. 
 
 Note. — Substituted with almost the same cast on February 13th, i6th, 
 20th, and 23rd, 1906, for A Question of Age and The Convict on the Hearth. 
 
 146 
 
1906. 
 
 On January i6th, 19th, 23rd, 26th, 30th, 
 
 and February 2nd, at 2.30. 
 
 THE ELECTRA OF 
 EURIPIDES 
 
 Translated by Gilbert Murray. 
 
 The Scene is laid before a Peasant's Hut in the Mountains of Argos. 
 The Play was first acted in the year 413 b.c. 
 
 Electra {Daughter of Agamem- 
 
 no7i and Clyteinnestra) . . . Miss E. WYNNE-MATTHISON 
 Clytemnestra {Queen of Argos ^ 
 
 widow of Agamemnon) . . . Miss EDYTH OLIVE 
 Orestes {Son of Agamemnon and 
 
 Clytemnestra ; now in banish- 
 ment) Mr. E. HARCOURT 
 
 WILLIAMS 
 KVQ2iS2int {Husband of Electra) Mr. STRATTON RODNEY 
 An Old Man {Formerly servant 
 
 to Agamemnon) Mr. J. H. BARNES 
 
 A Messenger Mr. HUBERT HARBEN 
 
 Pylades {Son of Strop hios, King 
 
 of Phocis ; friend to Orestes) Mr. FREDERICK LLOYD 
 Castor {The demi-god^ worshipped 
 together with his twin brother 
 
 Poly deuces) Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 
 Leader of Chorus Miss GERTRUDE SCOTT 
 
 Chorus : 
 
 Miss Gwendolen Bishop, Miss Amy Lamborn, 
 
 Miss Vera Longden, Miss Violet Myers, 
 
 Miss M. Saumarez, Miss Elaine Sleddall, 
 
 Miss Hazel Thompson, Miss Penelope Wheeler. 
 
 Music by Theodore Stier. 
 
 Note. — Revived March 12th, 1906, for two weeks only, with the 
 above cast, except that Orestes was played by Mr. Henry Ainley. 
 
 147 
 
1906. 
 On February 6th, 9th, [13th, i6th, 20th, and 23rd,]* 
 
 at 2.30. 
 
 A QUESTION OF AGE 
 
 A Comedy, in Three Acts, by Robert Vernon Harcourt. 
 
 Lt.-Col. Mark Langley, C.B. 
 
 Mr. FREDERICK KERR 
 
 Henry Bernard 
 
 Mr. C. M. HALLARD 
 
 Hon. Bertie Graham 
 
 Mr. KENNETH DOUGLAS 
 
 Baron von Berolstein 
 
 Mr. STRATTON RODNEY 
 
 Mr. Ferguson 
 
 Mr. FREDERIC TOPHAM 
 
 Johnson 
 
 Mr. C. L. DELPH 
 
 Footman 
 
 Mr. FREDERICK LLOYD 
 
 Mrs. Beddoes 
 
 Miss FANNY BROUGH 
 
 Olive Vane 
 
 Miss MABEL HACKNEY 
 
 Countess of Clare 
 
 Miss AGNES KNIGHTS 
 
 Lady Elsie Ireland 
 
 Miss IRENE FITZGERALD 
 
 Baroness von Berolstein ... 
 
 Miss DARRAGH 
 
 Shopwoman 
 
 Miss M. DANIELL 
 
 A Customer 
 
 Mrs. CHARLES MALTBY 
 
 Act I. Madame Lizette' 
 
 s Hat Shop, Dover Street. 
 
 Act II. The Hall at Lord Clare's, Steynham Court. 
 
 Act III. Joint Rooms of Bernard & Graham, Park Place, St. James. 
 
 To be followed by 
 
 THE CONVICT ON THE HEARTH 
 
 By Frederick Fenn. 
 
 George Midden 
 
 Thomas Midden ... 
 
 Mrs. Midden 
 
 Jenny Midden 
 
 Maud Midden 
 
 Percy Kitchener Midden 
 
 Joseph Peterson 
 
 Amy Watersmith . . . 
 
 Jim Watersmith 
 
 Miss Harcourt 
 
 Rev. Cartwright Dade 
 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 Miss MARY BROUGH 
 Miss EILY MALYON 
 MERRIE OMAR 
 SIDNEY GRATA 
 Mr. STRATTON RODNEY 
 Miss CLARE GREET 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 Miss MADGE McINTOSH 
 Mr. C. V. FRANCE 
 
 Scene. — A Room in Corporation Buildings, Kennington Butts. 
 
 * Major Barbara was substituted for these four performances. 
 148 
 
1906. 
 
 For Four Weeks only. 
 
 Commencing Monday, February 12th, 1906. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15. 
 
 Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 THE VOYSEY INHERITANCE 
 
 A Play, in Five Acts, by Granville Barker. 
 
 Mr. Voysey 
 
 Mrs. Voysey 
 
 Trenchard Voysey, K.C. 
 
 Honor Voysey ... 
 
 Major Booth Voysey ... 
 
 Mrs. Booth Voysey (Emily) 
 
 Christopher 
 
 Edward Voysey 
 
 Hugh Voysey ... 
 
 Mrs. Hugh Voysey (Beatrice) 
 
 Ethel Voysey 
 
 Denis Tregoning 
 
 Alice Maitland 
 
 Mr. Booth 
 
 The Rev. Evan Colpus 
 Peacey ... 
 
 Phoebe 
 
 Mary 
 
 Mr. FREDERICK KERR 
 Miss FLORENCE HAYDON 
 Mr. EUGENE MAYEUR 
 Miss EDYTH OLIVE 
 Mr. CHARLES FULTON 
 Miss AMY LAMBORN 
 CECIL DOYLE 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 Mr. HUBERT HARBEN 
 Miss MADGE McINTOSH 
 Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 Mr. FREDERICK LLOYD 
 Miss MABEL HACKNEY 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 Miss GWYNNETH GALTON 
 Mrs. CHARLES MALTBY 
 
 Acts I. and IV. At the Office of Voysey & Son, in Lincoln's Inn. 
 
 Acts II., III., and V. At Bramleyfield, Chislehurst. 
 
 149 
 
1906. 
 On Feb. 27th, Mar. 2nd, 6th, 9th, 13th, and i6th, 
 
 PAN AND THE YOUNG 
 SHEPHERD 
 
 A Pastoral Play, in Two Acts, by Maurice Hewlett. 
 The Music by H. W. Hewlett. 
 
 Geron ... 
 
 
 ... Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 
 Neanias 
 
 ... .. . 
 
 ... Mr. HENRY AINLEY 
 
 Balkis .. 
 
 ... ... 
 
 ... Miss RAY ROCKMAN 
 
 Teucer... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 
 
 ... Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Sphorx . . . 
 
 ... 
 
 ... Mr. STRATTON RODNEY 
 
 Merla ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... Miss SUZANNE SHELDON 
 
 Aglae ... 
 
 ... . .. 
 
 ... Miss GRACE LANE 
 
 Erotion.. 
 
 ... .. . 
 
 ... Miss LILLAH MCCARTHY 
 
 Sitys .. 
 
 ... .. 
 
 Miss GWENDOLEN BISHOP 
 
 Geerna . . 
 
 ... .. 
 
 ... Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 
 Phoeno... 
 
 
 
 ... Miss GWLADYS WYNNE 
 
 Dryas . . 
 
 ... . . 
 
 ... Miss MABEL HACKNEY 
 
 Adora .. 
 
 . 
 
 ... Miss ALICE CRAWFORD 
 
 Pan .. 
 
 
 
 ... Mr. NORMAN McKINNEL 
 
 To be followed by 
 
 THE YOUNGEST OF THE 
 ANGELS 
 
 By Maurice Hewlett. 
 
 Adapted by the Author from one of his Novels. 
 
 Dr. Dolfino Tron 
 
 Mr. Francis Hastings... 
 
 Donna Domenica 
 Nonna ... 
 
 Mr. J. H. BARNES 
 
 Mr. E. HARCOURT 
 
 WILLIAMS 
 Miss LILLAH MCCARTHY 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 
 150 
 
1906. 
 
 On March 20th, 23rd, 27th, 30th ; April 3rd 
 
 and 6th, at 2.30. 
 
 CAPTAIN BRASSBOUND'S 
 CONVERSION 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Lady Cecily Waynflete 
 
 Sir Howard Hallam 
 
 Captain Brassbound 
 
 Rankin ... 
 
 Drinkwater 
 
 Redbrook 
 
 Johnson 
 
 Marzo 
 
 Sidi el Assif ... 
 The Cadi 
 Osman ... 
 Hassan 
 
 Capt. Hamlin Kearney, U.S.N. 
 American Bluejacket ... 
 
 Miss ELLEN TERRY 
 
 Mr. J. H. BARNES 
 
 Mr. FREDERICK KERR 
 
 Mr. F. CREMLIN 
 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Mr. C. L. DELPH 
 
 Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 
 Mr. MICHAEL SHER 
 
 BROOKE 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 Mr. GORDON BAILEY 
 Mr. JULES SHAW 
 Mr. JAMES CAREW 
 Mr. FREDERICK LLOYD 
 
 Act I. Mogadon The Missionary's Garden. 
 Act II. Moskala. In a Castle on the Hills. 
 Act III. Mogador. In the Missionary's House. 
 
 Note. — Revived for twelve weeks on April i6th, 1906, with the 
 above cast, and the additional character of Muley^ played by Mr. Cecil 
 Steel. The theatre was closed for one night, the day before Miss Ellen 
 Terry's jubilee. 
 
 151 
 
1906. 
 
 For Two Weeks only. 
 
 Commencing Monday, March 26th, 1906. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.30. 
 
 Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 THE HIPPOLYTUS OF 
 EURIPIDES 
 
 Translated by Gilbert Murray. 
 
 ** The Play was first Acted when Epameinon was Archon, Olympiad 
 87, year 4 (429 b.c). Euripides was first, lophon second, Ion third." 
 
 The Goddess Aphrodite 
 
 The Goddess Artemis 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Hippolytus 
 
 Henchman 
 
 An Old Huntsman 
 
 Phaedra... 
 
 The Nurse 
 
 Leader of Chorus 
 
 Miss MADGE McINTOSH 
 Miss GWENDOLEN BISHOP 
 Mr. WILLIAM HAVILAND 
 Mr. HENRY AINLEY 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 Mr. STRATTON RODNEY 
 Miss EDYTH OLIVE 
 Miss FLORENCE FARR 
 Miss GERTRUDE SCOTT 
 
 Chorus of Troxenean Women, 
 
 Miss Amy Lamborn, Miss Vera Longden, 
 
 Miss Violet Myers, Miss M. Saumarez, 
 
 Miss Elaine Sleddall, Miss Hazel Thompson, 
 
 Miss Penelope Wheeler, Miss Gwladys Wynne. 
 
 Scene. — Before Theseus' Castle in Trozen. 
 
 Music by Florence Farr. 
 
 152 
 
1906. 
 
 April 24th, 27th; May ist, 4th, 8th, nth, 
 
 15th, 1 8th, 22nd, 25th, 29th, and 
 
 June ist, 1906, at 2.30. 
 
 PRUNELLA 
 Or, Love in a Dutch Garden 
 
 A Pierrot Play, in Three Acts, 
 
 By Laurence Housman and Granville Barker. 
 
 The Music by Joseph Moorat. 
 
 Pierrot 
 
 
 ... Mr. W. GRAHAM BROWNE 
 
 Scaramel 
 
 .. 
 
 . .. 
 
 Mr. NIGEL PLAYFAIR 
 
 Kennel 
 
 .. 
 
 .. 
 
 Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 
 Callow 
 
 .. 
 
 , , 
 
 Mr. GORDON BAILEY 
 
 Mouth 
 
 . .. 
 
 . .. 
 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Hawk 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 Mr. C. H. CROKER-KING 
 
 Tawdry 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 Miss VALERIE SALBERG 
 
 Doll 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 Miss MARGARET BUSS6 
 
 Romp 
 
 . , 
 
 
 Miss RUBY CRAWFORD 
 
 Coquette 
 
 ,, 
 
 , , 
 
 Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 
 Tenor 
 
 , , 
 
 . .. 
 
 Mr. W. H. PENDEREL PRICE 
 
 Prim 
 
 ,. 
 
 ,. 
 
 Mrs. CHARLES MALTBY 
 
 Privacy 
 
 . . 
 
 .. 
 
 . Miss AMY LAMBORN 
 
 Prude 
 
 . . 
 
 .. 
 
 . Miss AGNES HILL 
 
 Queer ... 
 
 . c 
 
 , , , 
 
 Miss CLARE GREET 
 
 Quaint ... 
 
 ,, 
 
 . .. 
 
 . Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 
 ist Gardener .. 
 
 .. 
 
 . . 
 
 Mr. C. L. DELPH 
 
 2nd Gardener . . 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 . Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 
 3rd Gardener .. 
 
 . .. 
 
 . .. 
 
 . Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 
 Boy 
 
 . . 
 
 .. 
 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Statue of Love 
 
 . , 
 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 
 Prunella 
 
 •• 
 
 •• 
 
 Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 
 Scene. — The Dutch Garden. 
 
 The Orchestra conducted by Mr. Theodore Stier. 
 
 153 
 
1906. 
 
 Commencing Monday, July gth, 1906. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15. 
 
 Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 (For a Limited Number of Weeks.) 
 
 YOU NEVER CAN TELL 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Mrs. Clandon... / ... 
 
 .. Miss HENRIETTA WATSON 
 
 Gloria Clandon 
 
 .. Miss lillah McCarthy 
 
 Dolly Clandon 
 
 .. Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 
 Philip Clandon 
 
 .. Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Fergus Crampton 
 
 .. Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 
 Finch McComas 
 
 .. Mr. J. H. BARNES* 
 
 Valentine 
 
 .. Mr. HENRY AINLEY 
 
 Bohun ... 
 
 .. Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 
 The Waiter 
 
 .. Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 
 A Parlour Maid 
 
 .. Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 
 Act I. A Dentist's 
 
 Operating Room — Morning. 
 
 Act II. The Marine 
 
 ; Hotel — Luncheon. 
 
 Act III. Sitting Rooi 
 
 n in the Hotel — Afternoon Tea. 
 
 Act IV. Sitting Root 
 
 n in the Hotel — After Dinner. 
 
 Scene. — 
 
 -At the Seaside. 
 
 Time.- 
 
 -The Present. 
 
 * When Mr. Barnes went out of the cast, the part was played by 
 Mr. Athol Forde. In Mr. Calvert's absence the part of the Waiter was 
 played by Mr. Edmund Gwenn ; in Miss Minto's, the part of Dolly by 
 Miss Margaret Busse. 
 
1906. 
 
 Monday, September 17th, for Six Weeks only. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15. 
 
 Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 JOHN BULL'S OTHER 
 ISLAND 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Broadbent 
 Larry Doyle .. 
 Tim Haffigan .. 
 Hodson 
 Keegan... 
 Patsy Farrell .. 
 Father Dempsey 
 Corney Doyle . . 
 Barney Doran.. 
 Matthew Haffiga 
 Aunt Judy 
 Nora . . . 
 
 Act L ... 
 
 Act IL— Scene I. 
 
 Scene IL 
 
 Act III 
 
 Act IV. — Scene I. 
 Scene II. 
 
 Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 Mr. BEN WEBSTER 
 Mr. HENRY AUSTIN 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Mr. WILLIAM POEL 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 Mr. WILFRED SHINE 
 Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 Miss ELLEN O'MALLEY 
 
 Office of Broadbent & Doyle, Civil 
 Engineers, Great George Street, West- 
 minster. 
 
 RosscuUen Hill. 
 
 The Round Tower. 
 
 The Grass Plot before Corney Doyle's 
 House. 
 
 The Parlour at Corney Doyle's. 
 
 RosscuUen Hill. 
 
 155 
 
1906. 
 
 On September 25th, 28th ; October 2nd, 5th, 
 
 9th, 1 2th, 1 6th, 19th, at 2.30. 
 
 THE SILVER BOX 
 
 An Original Play, in Three Acts, 
 By John Galsworthy. 
 
 John Earth wick, M.P. 
 Jack Barthwick 
 Mr. Roper 
 Marlow 
 Jones . . . 
 Snow . . . 
 Julius Holden. 
 Livens ... 
 Magistrate's Clerk 
 Relieving Officer 
 Usher ... 
 Mrs. Barthwick 
 Mrs. Jones 
 Mrs. Seddon ... 
 Wheeler 
 
 An Unknown Lady 
 
 Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 Mr. A. E. MATTHEWS 
 Mr. A. GOODSALL 
 Mr. FREDERICK LLOYD 
 Mr. NORMAN McKINNEL 
 Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 Mr. ATHOL FORDE 
 Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 Miss FRANCES IVOR 
 Miss IRENE ROOKE 
 Mrs. CHARLES MALTBY 
 Miss GERTRUDE HEN 
 
 RIQUES 
 Miss SYDNEY FAIR 
 
 BROTHER 
 
 Act I. Easter Tuesday. The Dining Room at John Barth- 
 
 wick's, Rockingham Gate. 
 
 Scene I., 12.30 a.m. Scene II., 8.30 a.m. Scene III., 9 a.m. 
 
 Act II. Scene I., The Jones' Lodgings, Merthyr Street. 
 
 2.30 p.m. 
 Scene II., The Dining Room. 8.30 p.m. 
 Act III. A week later. A London Police Court, i p.m. 
 
 156 
 
1906. 
 
 On October 23rd, 26th, 30th ; November 2nd, 
 
 6th, 9th, 13th, 1 6th, at 2.30. 
 
 THE CHARITY THAT 
 BEGAN AT HOME 
 
 A Comedy in Four Acts, 
 By St. John Hankin. 
 
 Lady Denison... 
 Margery 
 Mrs. Eversleigh 
 Mrs. Horrocks 
 Miss Triggs .., 
 Anson 
 
 General Bonsor 
 Mr. Firket 
 Hugh Verreker 
 Basil Hylton .. 
 
 Soames , 
 
 William 
 
 Miss FLORENCE HAYDON 
 Miss MAY MARTYN 
 Miss MARGARET MURRAY 
 Miss LIZZIE HENDERSON 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 Miss GERTRUDE HEN- 
 
 RIQUES 
 Mr. DENNIS EADIE 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Mr. BEN WEBSTER 
 Mr. BERTE THOMAS 
 Mr. EUGENE MAYEUR 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 The action passes at Priors Ashton, Lady Denison's House in 
 
 the Country. 
 
 Acts I., II., and III. The Drawing Room. 
 
 Act IV. The Dining Room. 
 
 157 
 
1906. 
 Monday, October 29th, 1906. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15. 
 Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 MAN AND SUPERMAN 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Roebuck Ramsden 
 Octavius Robinson 
 John Tanner ... 
 Henry Straker... 
 Hector Malone 
 Mr. Malone ... 
 Ann Whitefield 
 Mrs. Whitefield 
 Miss Ramsden 
 Violet Robinson 
 Parlour Maid ... 
 
 Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Mr. HUBERT HARBEN 
 Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 Miss LILLAH MCCARTHY 
 Miss FLORENCE HAYDON 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 Miss GRACE LANE 
 Miss MARY HAMILTON 
 
 Act I. Portland Place. Roebuck Ramsden's Study. 
 
 Act II. Richmond. The Avenue to Mrs. Whitefield's House. 
 
 Act III. At Granada. The Villa Garden. 
 
 Period. — The Present Time. 
 158 
 
1906. 
 
 On November 20th, 23rd5 27th, 30th ; 
 
 December 4th, 7th, nth, 14th, 1906, 
 
 at 2 o'clock. 
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DILEMMA 
 
 A Tragedy, in Four Acts, and an Epilogue, 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Sir Patrick Cullen 
 
 Sir Ralph Bloomfield 
 
 nington 
 Sir Colenso Ridgeon... 
 Cutler Walpole 
 Leo Schutzmacher 
 
 Dr. Blenkinsop 
 Louis Dubedat 
 
 Redpenny 
 
 The Newspaper Man... 
 
 Mr. Danby 
 
 A Waiter 
 
 Jennifer Dubedat 
 Emmy ... 
 Minnie Tinwell 
 
 Act L 
 
 Bon- 
 
 Mr. WILLIAM FARREN, Junr 
 
 Mr. ERIC LEWIS 
 
 Mr. BEN WEBSTER 
 
 Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 
 Mr. MICHAEL SHER- 
 
 BROOKE 
 Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 Mr. PERCY MARMONT 
 Miss LILLAH MCCARTHY 
 Miss CLARE GREET 
 Miss MARY HAMILTON 
 
 Sir Colenso Ridgeon's Consulting Room, in Queen 
 Anne Street, Portland Place, W. 
 Act II. On the Terrace at " The Star and Garter," Richmond. 
 Act III. Louis Dubedat's Studio. 
 Act IV. The same. 
 Epilogue. A Bond Street Picture Gallery. 
 
 * The Doctor's Dilemma is the title of a story by Miss Hesba Stretton, 
 who has been kind enough to allow the Author to use it for his tragedy. 
 
 Note. — Revived on December 3i8t, 1906, for six weeks only, with the 
 above cast, except that The Newspaper Man was played by Mr. Jules Shaw. 
 
 59 
 
1907. 
 
 On January 8th, nth, 15th, i8th, 22nd, 25th, 
 29th; February ist, 1907, at 2.30. 
 
 THE REFORMER 
 
 A Very Light Comedy, in Three Acts, 
 by Cyril Harcourt. 
 
 Sir Rupert Yeld 
 The Earl of Crowborough 
 General Carew 
 Captain Reginald Ross 
 
 Eric Lowndes 
 
 Thomas 
 
 Ferrers ... 
 
 Mrs. Rockingham 
 
 Sybil Carew 
 
 Mr. ALLAN AYNESWORTH 
 Mr. SYDNEY BROUGH 
 Mr. O. B. CLARENCE 
 Mr. JOHN L. MACKAY 
 Mr. HUBERT HARBEN 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Mr. ALLAN WADE 
 Miss EVA MOORE 
 Miss JUNE VAN BUSKIRK 
 
 Acts L and IIL At General Carew's. 
 Act IL Captain Ross's Chambers. 
 
 To be followed by 
 
 THE CAMPDEN WONDER 
 
 A Play, in Three Scenes, by John Masefield. 
 
 Mrs. Harrison 
 The Parson 
 M-s. Perry 
 John Perry 
 r 'chard Perry 
 Tom Constable 
 
 Miss DOLORES DRUMMOND 
 Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 Miss CARLOTTA ADDISON 
 Mr. NORMAN McKINNEL 
 Mr. H. R. HIGNETT 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Campden, Gloucestershire, 1660. 
 160 
 
1907- 
 
 On February 5th, 8th, 12th, 15th, 19th, 22nd, 
 26th ; March ist, 1907, at 2.30. 
 
 THE PHILANDERER 
 
 A Topical Comedy, in Four Acts, of the early 
 Eighteen Nineties, by Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Leonard Charteris 
 Mrs. Grace Tranfield 
 
 Julia Craven 
 
 Colonel Daniel Craven, V.C... 
 Mr. Joseph Cuthbertson 
 Sylvia Craven ... 
 Dr. Paramore ... 
 The Club Page 
 
 Mr. BEN WEBSTER 
 Miss WYNNE-MATTHISON 
 Miss MARY BARTON 
 Mr. ERIC LEWIS 
 Mr. LUIGI LABLACHE 
 Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 Mr. HUBERT HARBEN 
 Mr. CYRIL BRUCE 
 
 Period. — During the first vogue of Ibsen in London after 1889. 
 
 Act I. Mr. Joseph Cuthbertson's Flat in Ashley Gardens. 
 
 Acts II. and III. The Library of the Ibsen Club in Cork Street. 
 
 Act IV. Dr. Paramore's Rooms in Savile Rov/. 
 
 II 161 
 
1907. 
 
 Commencing Monday, February nth, 1907, 
 
 For Six Weeks only. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.15, 
 
 Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 YOU NEVER CAN TELL 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Mrs. Clandon ... 
 Gloria Clandon 
 Dolly Clandon 
 Philip Clandon 
 Fergus Crampton 
 Finch McComas 
 Valentine 
 
 Bohun 
 
 The Waiter ... 
 A Parlour Maid 
 
 Miss HENRIETTA WATSON 
 
 Miss GRACE LANE 
 
 Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 
 Mr. ATHOL FORDE 
 
 Mr. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 
 Mr. LOUIS CALVERT 
 
 Miss PENELOPE WHEELER 
 
 Act L a Dentist's Operating Room — Morning. 
 Act II. The Marine Hotel — Luncheon. 
 Act III. Sitting Room in the Hotel — Afternoon Tea. 
 Act IV. Sitting Room in the Hotel — After Dinner. 
 Scene. — At the Seaside. Time. — The Present. 
 
 Note. — Continued on April ist, 1907, for seven extra performances. 
 
 162 
 
1907. 
 
 On March 5th, 8th, 12th, 15th, 19th, 22nd, 26th, 
 1907, at 2.30. 
 
 HEDDA GABLER 
 
 A Play, in Four Acts, 
 By Henrik Ibsen. 
 
 Hedda Tesman 
 
 Mrs. Elvsted 
 
 Miss Juliana Tesman . . 
 
 Berta 
 
 George Tesman 
 Judge Brack ... 
 Eilert Lovborg 
 
 Mrs. PATRICK CAMPBELL 
 
 Miss EVELYN WEEDEN 
 
 Miss ADELA MEASOR 
 
 Miss MARY RABY 
 
 Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 
 Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 
 Mr. LAURENCE IRVING 
 
 The Scene of the Action is Tesman's Villa in the 
 West End of Christiania. 
 
 163 
 
1907. 
 
 Monday, April 8th, for Three Weeks only. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.30, 
 
 Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 THE SILVER BOX 
 
 An Original Play, in Three Acts, 
 By John Galsworthy. 
 
 John Barthwick, M.P. ... Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 
 Jack Barthwick Mr. A. E. MATTHEWS 
 
 Mr. Roper Mr. CECIL ROSE 
 
 Marlow Mr. DENNIS EADIE 
 
 Jones Mr. NORMAN McKINNEL 
 
 Snow Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 
 The Magistrate Mr. ATHOL FORDE 
 
 The Magistrate's Clerk ... Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 
 Livens Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 
 Relieving Officer Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Usher Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Mrs. Barthwick Miss FRANCES IVOR 
 
 Mrs. Jones Miss NORA GREENLAW 
 
 Mrs. Seddon Mrs. CHARLES MALTBY 
 
 Wheeler Miss AMY LAMBORN 
 
 An Unknown Lady Miss MARY HAMILTON 
 
 Act I. Easter Tuesday. The Dining Room at John Barth- 
 wick*s, Rockingham Gate. 
 Scene I., 12.30 a.m. Scene II., 8.30 a.m. Scene III., 
 9 a.m. 
 Act II. Scene I., The Jones' Lodgings, Merthyr Street, 2.30 p.m. 
 
 Scene II., The Dining Room. 8.30 p.m. 
 Act III. A week later. A London Police Court. 12.15 p.m. 
 
 164 
 
1907. 
 
 On April 9th, lath, i6th5 19th, 23rd, 26^, 30th, 
 and May 3rd, 1907, at 2.30. 
 
 VOTES FOR WOMEN! 
 
 A Dramatic Tract in Three Acts, 
 By Elizabeth Robins. 
 
 Lord John Wynnstay 
 The Hon. Geoffrey Stonor 
 Mr. St. John Greatorex 
 Mr. Richard Farnborough 
 Mr. Freddy Tunbridge 
 Mr. Allen Trent 
 
 Mr. Walker 
 
 Lady John Wynnstay 
 Mrs. Heriot ... 
 Miss Vida Levering ... 
 Miss Beatrice Dunbarton 
 Mrs. Freddy Tunbridge 
 Miss Ernestine Blunt 
 A Working Woman ... 
 
 Mr. ATHOL FORDE 
 Mr. AUBREY SMITH 
 Mr. E. HOLMAN CLARK 
 Mr. P. CLAYTON GREENE 
 Mr. PERCY MARMONT 
 Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Miss MAUD MILTON 
 Miss FRANCES IVOR 
 Miss WYNNE-MATTHISON 
 Miss JEAN MacKINLAY 
 Miss GERTRUDE BURNETT 
 Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 
 Act I. Wynnstay House in Hertfordshire. 
 Act II. Trafalgar Square, London. 
 Act III. Eaton Square, London. 
 
 The Entire Action of the Play takes place between Sunday noon 
 and six o'clock in the evening of the same day. 
 
 Note.— Substituted for two weeks only, beginning May nth, 1907, in 
 place of The Return of the Prodigal^ with the same cast as above. 
 
 16s 
 
1907. 
 
 April 29th, 1907 (for Four Weeks only). 
 
 Every Evening at 8.30, 
 
 Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 THE RETURN OF THE 
 PRODIGAL 
 
 A Comedy in Four Acts, by St. John Hankin. 
 
 Samuel Jackson 
 
 Mrs. Jackson J... 
 
 Henry Jackson 
 
 Eustace Jackson 
 
 Violet Jackson 
 
 Sir John Faringford, Bart. 
 
 Lady Faringford 
 
 Stella Faringford 
 
 Doctor Glaisher 
 
 The Rev. Cyril Pratt 
 
 Mrs. Pratt 
 
 Baines 
 
 Mr. ERIC LEWIS 
 
 Miss FLORENCE HAYDON 
 
 Mr. DENNIS EADIE 
 
 Mr. A. E. MATTHEWS 
 
 Miss AMY LAMBORN 
 
 Mr. CECIL ROSE 
 
 Miss FORTESCUE 
 
 Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 
 Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 
 Miss MARY BARTON 
 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 The action of the Play takes place at Chedleigh Court. 
 
 Act I. The Drawing Room. 
 
 Act II. The Breakfast Room. 
 
 Act III. The Lawn. Ten days have elapsed since Act II. 
 
 Act IV. The Drawing Room. 
 
 Note. — On May loth, Votes for Women ! was substituted for this play. 
 
 166 
 
1907. 
 
 On May 7th, loth, 14th, 17th, 21st, 24th, 
 28th, 31st, 1907, at 2.30. 
 
 PRUNELLA 
 Or, Love in a Dutch Garden 
 
 A Pierrot Play in Three Acts, 
 
 By Laurence Housman and Granville Barker. 
 
 Music by Joseph Moorat. 
 
 Pierrot ... 
 S caramel 
 
 Kennel 
 
 Callow 
 
 Mouth ... 
 
 Hawk 
 
 Tawdry 
 
 Doll 
 
 Romp ... 
 Coquette 
 A Light Baritone 
 
 Prim 
 
 Privacy 
 
 Prude 
 
 Queer 
 
 Quaint ... 
 First Gardener 
 Second Gardener 
 Third Gardener 
 
 Boy 
 
 Statue of Love 
 Prunella 
 
 Mr. W. GRAHAM BROWNE 
 Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 Mr. ALLAN WADE 
 Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 Mr. KENELM FOSS 
 Miss DOROTHY MARSDIN 
 Miss MARGARET BUSSE 
 Miss MARY HAMILTON 
 Miss HAZEL THOMPSON 
 Mr. JULIEN HENRY 
 Mrs. CHARLES MALTBY 
 Miss AMY LAMBORN 
 Miss AGNES HILL 
 Miss CLARE GREET 
 Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 Mr. JULES SHAW 
 Mr. F. GREMLIN 
 Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 Mr. NORMAN PAGE 
 Mr, LEWIS CASSON 
 Miss DOROTHY MINTO 
 
 Scene. — The Dutch Garden. 
 
 The Orchestra conducted by Mr. Theodore Stier. 
 
 167 
 
1907. 
 
 Monday, May 27th, for Five Weeks only. 
 
 Every Evening at 8.30, 
 
 Wednesday Matinee at 2.30. 
 
 MAN AND SUPERMAN 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Roebuck Ramsden ... 
 
 .. Mr. JAMES HEARN 
 
 Octavius Robinson ... 
 
 .. Mr. LEWIS CASSON 
 
 John Tanner ... 
 
 .. Mr. ROBERT LORAINE 
 
 Henry Straker 
 
 ... Mr. EDMUND GWENN 
 
 Hector Malone 
 
 .. Mr. DENNIS EADIE 
 
 Mr. Malone 
 
 .. Mr. EDMUND GURNEY 
 
 Ann Whitefield 
 
 .. Miss LILLAH McCARTHY 
 
 Mrs. Whitefield 
 
 .. Miss FLORENCE HAYDON 
 
 Miss Ramsden 
 
 .. Miss AGNES THOMAS 
 
 Violet Robinson 
 
 .. Miss SARAH BROOKE 
 
 Parlour Maid 
 
 .. Miss MARY HAMILTON 
 
 Act I. Portland Place. Roebuck Ramsden's Study. 
 Act II. Richmond. The Avenue to Mrs. Whitefield's 
 
 House. 
 Act III. At Granada. The Villa Garden. 
 Period. — The Present Time. 
 168 
 
1907. 
 
 On June 4th, 7th, nth, 14th, iSth, 21st, 25th, 
 28th, 1907, at 2.30. 
 
 DON JUAN IN HELL 
 
 A Dream, from Man and Superman, 
 
 By Bernard Shaw. 
 
 Don Juan Mr. ROBERT LORAINE 
 
 Dona Ana de Ulloa Miss LILLAH McCARTHY 
 
 The Statue Mr. MICHAEL SHER- 
 
 BROOKE. 
 The Devil Mr. NORMAN McKINNEL 
 
 Scene. — Beyond Space. Period. — Beyond Time. 
 
 The Costumes designed by Mr. Charles Ricketts. 
 
 To be followed by 
 
 THE MAN OF DESTINY 
 
 A Trifle by Bernard Shaw. 
 
 General Bonaparte Mr. DION BOUCICAULT 
 
 Giuseppe (the Innkeeper) ... Mr. HERMAN DE LANGE 
 
 A Lieutenant Mr. TREVOR LOWE 
 
 The Strange Lady Miss IRENE VANBRUGH 
 
 Period. — May 12th, 1796. 
 
 Scene. — Interior of a Farmhouse at Tavazzano in North 
 
 Italy, on the road from Lodi to Milan. 
 
 Time. — 7.30 in the Evening. 
 
 169 
 
WorRs by 
 
 MR. BERNARD SHAW 
 
 JOHN BULL'S OTHER ISLAND 
 
 Containing also "Major Barbara," and "How He Lied to Her 
 Husband." 
 
 Crown 8vo. .360 pages. Price 6/- 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Preface for Politicians on Home Rule, Egypt, etc., in about 
 
 sixteen chapters. 
 ** John Bull's Other Island," a long play. 
 Preface to " How He Lied to Her Husband." 
 " How He Lied to Her Husband," a short play. 
 Preface to "Major Barbara," in about twelve chapters, dealing 
 
 with "First Aid to Critics," "The Salvation Army," 
 
 Christianity and Anarchism," etc. 
 "Major Barbara," a play. 
 
 THE PLAYGOER'S EDITIONS 
 
 In Paper Wrapper, 1/6 net each. Cloth, 2/- net. 
 The Man of Destiny 
 
 Widower's Houses 
 
 The Philanderer 
 
 Mrs. Warren's Profession 
 
 Illustrated with 12 Photographs. 
 
 Arms and the Man 
 Candida 
 
 You Never Can Tell 
 The Devil's Disciple 
 Caesar and Cleopatra 
 Captain Brassbound's Conversion 
 
 Obtainable at all Booksellers 
 Published by 
 
 ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO. LTD. 
 
 10 Orange Street, London, W.C. 
 
lofts by MR. BERNARD SHAW 
 Dramatic Opinions and Essays 
 
 In 2 Vols. 
 
 Containing as well a Word on the Dramatic Opinions and 
 
 Essays of G. Bernard Shaw by James Huneker 
 
 Crown 8vo. 10/6 net. 
 
 The Tribune says : — " One can admire and enjoy the profusion of brilliant, 
 
 suggestive, and memorable things scattered through these pages." 
 
 Man and Superman 
 
 A Comedy and a Philosophy. Containing also The Revolutionist's 
 Handbook and Maxims for Revolutionists. Crown 8vo. 6/- 
 
 Plays Pleasant and Plays Unpleasant 
 
 In 2 vols. Sold separately. With a Portrait of the Author by 
 Frederick H. Evans, and the original Prefaces. Crown 8vo. 
 6/- each. Contents — Plays Unpleasant — (i) Widower's 
 Houses. (2) The Philanderer. (3) Mrs. Warren's Profession. 
 Contents — Plays Pleasant — (i) Arms and the Man. 
 (2) Candida. (3) The Man of Destiny. (4) You Never Can Tell. 
 
 Three Plays for Puritans 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6/- Contents — (i) The Devil's Disciple. (2) Csesar 
 and Cleopatra. (3) Captain JBrassbound's Conversion. 
 Each Play also sold separately. Paper 1/6 net. Cloth 2/- net. 
 
 The Irrational Knot 
 
 A Novel. Crown 8vo. 6/- 
 
 Cashel Byron's Profession 
 
 Being No. 4 of the Novels of his Nonage, Containing also The 
 Admirable Bashville, or Constancy Unrewarded, and an 
 Essay on Modern Prizefighting. Crown 8vo. 6/- 
 
 The Common Sense of Municipal Trading 
 
 Crown 8vo. 2/6 
 
 The Perfect Wagnerite 
 
 Crown 8vo. Second Edition. 3/6 net. 
 
 Published by 
 
 ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE « CO. LTD. 10 Orange Street, London, W.C. 
 
As Played at THE COURT THEATRE 
 
 PRUNELLA 
 
 Or, LOVE IN A DUTCH GARDEN 
 
 By LAURENCE HOUSMAN 
 and H. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 With a Frontispiece Designed by Laurence Housman, and Cut 
 on Wood by Miss Housman. 
 
 Pott 4to, bound in Special Cloth, 3s, 6d. net. 
 Ttie same in Ornamental Wrapper, 2s. net. 
 
 "This exquisite little fantasy is not the least of the additions to our dramatic 
 literature which we owe to the Court Theatre. It reads as charmingly as it acted, 
 and that is saying much. It is full of quaint invention, humour, irony, and 
 pathos." — William Archer in the Tribune. 
 
 " A very charming love tale which works slowly to a climax of great and 
 touching beauty." — Daily News. 
 
 " Many who delighted in the performance will be glad to read the play in this 
 attractive form." — Evening Standard. 
 
 *'' Prunella' is one of the most poetical rhapsodies of love imaginable." — 
 Queett. 
 
 "It is a perfect globe, in the Elizabethan sense, of ^\c^2XiZ\t%''' —Manchester 
 Guardian. 
 
 Another Edition, with New Preface by the Authors, without the 
 Frontispiece, crown 8vo, Paper Covers, Is. net, 
 
 '* The booklet contains an amusing preface in which the authors defend their 
 poetry. ' ' — Clarion. 
 
 A. H. BULLEN, 47 Qreat Russell Street, W.C. 
 
Plays for an Irish Theatre 
 
 Crown 8vo, 3^. 6d. net per vol. 
 
 I. WHERE THERE 15 NOTHING. By W. B. Yeats. 
 
 II. THE HOUR GLASS : CATHLEEN-NI-HOULIHAN : 
 THE POT OF BROTH. By W. B. Yeats. 
 
 III. THE KING'S THRESHOLD : ON BAILE'S STRAND. 
 
 By W. B. Yeats. 
 
 IV. THE WELL OF THE SAINTS. By J. M. Synge. 
 
 With an Introduction by W. B. Yeats. 
 
 V. DEIRDRE. By W. B. Yeats. 
 
 AL80 
 
 (Crown 8vo, in Wrappers, 6d, net each.) 
 
 CATHLEEN-NI-HOULIHAN. THE POT OF BROTH. 
 
 THE SHADOWY WATERS (1906). 
 
 THE PLAYBOY OF THE WESTERN WORLD. By J. M. 
 
 Synge. Crown 8vo. 2s. net. (Published by Maunsel & Co.) 
 
 EVERYMAN: A Morality Play. With Notes and Introduction. 
 Twenty-second Edition. Demy Svo, is. net. A few copies on 
 hand-made paper in vellum boards, 2s, 6d. net. 
 
 A. H. BULLEN, 47 Great Russell Street, W.C. 
 
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 bungay, suffolk. 
 
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