The two principal figures to be considered are Mr. WILLIAM FARREN,
who, as _Sir Peter_, is a Master of Arts in the OLD SCHOOL, and Miss
REHAN, who as _Lady Teazle_ is an experimentalising teacher in the New
_School for Scandal_. All playgoers, whose memory takes them back over
a quarter of a century, must be familiar with WILLIAM FARREN'S _Sir
Peter_, which, in our time may have been rivalled, but has rarely
been equalled (I do not remember his equal in the past), and certainly
never excelled. A trifle overdone now and then, a trifle hard in
manner here and there, perhaps, but, as a whole, simply admirable.
Mr. DALY never made a better engagement than when he secured WILLIAM
FARREN for _Sir Peter_. About Miss REHAN'S _Lady Teazle_ there will be
various opinions and, truth to tell, I do not precisely know from what
point of view and by what standard to judge of her performance. _Sir
Peter_ describes her as "a girl bred wholly in the country," and
so forth, "yet," he continues, "she now plays her part in all the
extravagant fopperies of fashion and the town with as ready a grace as
if she had never seen a bush or a grass plot out of Grosvenor Square."
To let her country training be perceived through the assumed airs and
graces of a town Madame seems to me to be Miss REHAN'S object; and in
this, granting her ideas of the country hoyden and the town lady to
be correct, she certainly succeeds; notably in the scenes with _Sir
Peter_. For thus is the Jekyl-and-Hyde-ness of her character made
apparent: in company, in the scandal scenes, she is to be all airs and
graces, but when alone with her husband she, in spite of her perpetual
wrangling with him, reappears as her own natural self, with most of
the polish temporarily rubbed off. But if this be so, then, when in
"society," her funny little run and shaking of the head are out of
place, while they may be accepted as a relapse into her provincialisms
when she is quite free and easy, _en tete-a-tete_ with _Sir Peter_,
and especially bent on captivating him by recalling to his memory the
lass of whom he had become desperately enamoured some eight months
ago.
[Illustration: _Shade of Sheridan._ "William Farren, my old friend, I
congratulate you: and I suspect that in the present generation I owe
you much."
_Sir William Peter Farren Teazle._ "Not more than I do you, Mr.
Sheridan. Let us say, mutually indebted."
[_They exchange snuff-pinches._
]
In the Screen Scene when "discovered," Miss REHAN'S attitude is
eloquent; and on this tableau I have always thought the curtain should
descend, as all after this, even _Sir Peter's_ exit with "damn your
sentiments," good as it is, is an anti-climax. I should prefer that
Miss REHAN'S _Lady Teazle_ should be silent, or if it must be played
as written, then here of all situations in the comedy would I insist
upon her emphasising the perfectly natural manner of the unaffected
country girl, instead of addressing Sir _Peter_ in the deep tones of a
tragedian, as if attempting a mere theatrical effect. In the last Act,
as arranged, she appears to have done with her town airs and graces
for ever, and, wearing a queer sort of mob-cap, enters on _Sir
Peter's_ arm, ready with him to face the ridicule, the satire, and the
scandal of their world.
Miss VANBRUGH makes a delightful _Lady Sneerwell_, and Mrs. GILBERT
a dear old _Mrs. Candour_, who would spitefully gossip about her
neighbours for hours together. _Maria_ is almost always a thankless
part, and Miss PERCY HASWELL leaves no doubt on the mind of the
audience of her being a poor orphan of some six months' standing.
The part of _Moses_ offers very little scope to Mr. JAMES LEWIS,
especially as the celebrated "I'll take my oath of that" is cut out,
and some lines are introduced, which being quite un-Sheridanesque and
un-Mosaic do not in the least assist the character. However, as he is
much slapped on the back, dug in the ribs, and generally treated as a
butt by _Charles_ and _Careless_ (who, by the way, gives _"Here's to
the Maiden"_ in first-rate style), Mr. LEWIS may be congratulated on
getting to the end of his impersonation of one of the long-suffering
tribe in perfect safety. Mr. BOURCHIER'S _Charles_ goes well with
the audience; but Mr. GEORGE CLARKE is too conscientious, and too
impressed with a sense of the horrible scoundrelism of _Joseph's_
character to be ever really at home in so uncongenial a part.
For the re-arrangement, much may be said "for," and more "against."
There is only one point that strikes me as absolutely inartistic, and
that is, making _Sir Peter_ give his explanatory speech about his wife
_after_ we have seen her, instead of leaving it in its proper place,
as SHERIDAN wrote it, where it serves as a prologue to the subsequent
scene between _Sir Peter_ and _Lady Teazle_, when she appears for the
first time in the comedy.
There are some curious oversights in the scenic arrangements at
Daly's. The first is in _Charles Surface's_ picture gallery, _which
has no windows and no skylight_. The second is that though _Charles_
has sold all his books, yet through the door of the picture-room are
seen the first shelves of an evidently well-stocked library. The third
oversight is in _Joseph's_ chambers, described in the original play
as "_a library in Joseph Surface's house_," where, when he tells _Sir
Peter_ that "_books are the only things I am a coxcomb in_," there are
only a very few volumes to be seen, and these are lying at haphazard
on a table.
[Illustration: Lady Ada Rehan Teazle.
"In for some sort of a run"--at Daly's.]
To revert for a moment to _Charles Surface's_ windowless and
skylightless picture gallery, the scene takes place in the evening,
after dinner, or supper, and how is the huge apartment lighted? Why,
by a couple of ordinary candles placed on a side-table, while on the
mantelpiece at the back remain a couple of silver candelabra, filled
with candles which remain all the time unlighted. Why, naturally, the
company would have been in darkness, but not a bit of it, for these
two candles do give so preternaturally wonderful an illumination, that
the stage is as bright as a sunlighted garden at noonday in July. The
company that could produce such candles would make a fortune by their
patent. The dance at the end of the first Act brings down the curtain
to enthusiastic applause, and, to the end, the old comedy, in spite
of various chops and changes, holds its own, as it ever will do,
triumphantly.
* * * * *