"The Great Gamble."
A man who elopes with his friend's wife cannot fairly expect to command
general sympathy when, sooner or later, he has to pay the claims of
offended morality. Yet one could not help being a little sorry for
_Colonel Herrick_, the leading delinquent in Mr. Jerome's play. For
scarcely had they started for the Continent from Charing Cross (to be
precise, the train was passing through Chislehurst) when the lady
suddenly repented of her rash act and burst into unassuageable tears.
If, on reaching Dover, he had had the happy thought of despatching her
back to her home as unaccompanied baggage, he would have saved himself a
vast deal of trouble. But, being a soldier, he set his teeth and went
forward, and for eight days she made the hotels of Europe ring with her
lamentations. Nor was this his only source of discomfort. Though, for
convenience, they appeared in the visitors' books as man and wife, the
lady's attitude compelled the maintenance of platonic relations, and,
whereas in actual life this would merely have meant that he had to
occupy a separate bedroom, in Mr. Jerome's vision of things as they
might be it meant that he had to sleep in the bath-room.
It will be readily understood that, to _The Colonel_, the advent of the
infuriated husband was of the nature of a relief. Thanks to the
intervention of a large assortment of friends, and after assurance given
of the lady's technical retention of her virtue, he agrees to take her
back if she cares to rejoin him. It is true that before the happy
conclusion, so satisfactory to _The Colonel_, is reached, a duel
_manqué_ is interposed; but this is designed for the sole benefit of the
audience and does not affect the result.
Meanwhile, the lady adopts an enigmatic behaviour. On the appearance of
her husband she exchanges the black dress of remorse for the gay yellow
garb of a mind at ease; yet under his very nose she permits herself to
exhibit a very intimate delight in _The Colonel's_ more obvious
attractions. So cryptic indeed is her conduct (both for us and her
friends) that it is arranged that her choice between the two men shall
be decided by the test of a dream. In consequence, however, of an attack
of insomnia this dream (like the duel) fails to come off and shortly
after midnight her waking doubts are resolved in her husband's favour.
It will be seen that, the stuff of Mr. Jerome's play is sufficiently
fatuous; but Mr. Edmund Maurice as _The Colonel_ was always amusing, and
in the multitude of counsellors there was merriment. Unfortunately Mr.
Stanley Cooke, as a _Herr Professor_ and leader of the chorus, did not
quite succeed in executing his share of the fun.
[Illustration: How Unhappy could I be with Either!
_The Husband_ Mr. Michael Sherebrooke,
_The Wife_ Miss Sarah Brooke.
_The Colonel_ Mr. Edmund Maurice.]
The farce was varied by a very amateur romance as between a young
American and the niece of an hotel-keeper; also by a slab of melodrama
(dealing with the girl's parentage) which only escaped from pure
banality by the too brief glimpse it gave us of that admirable actress,
Miss Ruth Mackay.
The scene (perhaps the best part of the whole show) was laid in "An
Ancient Grove" adjacent to a German University. (The catalogue,
peculiarly reticent about proper names, offers my memory no
refreshment.) This "Ancient Grove," unchanged throughout the play,
served a number of useful purposes. It made excuse for the intermittent
apparition (otherwise inexplicable) of a little woodland figure that
played upon a pipe. Its proximity to an hotel afforded occasion for meal
after meal _en plein air_. Its proximity to a University Town encouraged
the frequent passage of German students, vivacious and vocal; also the
convenient appearance of any foreign resident or visitor at a moment's
notice. Its Statue of Venus (fully draped) afforded an authentic
incitement to the making of love. Its environs enabled Mr. Jerome to
dispose of his puppets whenever their presence became undesirable. They
simply said, "Let us stroll in the woods;" or "Come for a walk with me,"
and he was rid of them. Finally the "Ancient Grove" contained a central
patch of boscage in whose cover one of the duellists, arriving on the
_terrain_ a little before the time, remained _perdu_ in slumber,
undisturbed by a loud conversation carried on within a few feet of him
by all the other parties to the combat.
Indeed the scenery put in some good work, and I really don't know what
we should have done without it.
_The Great Gamble_ was, of course, the lottery of marriage. But for some
of us it meant the risk we ran in attending the first night of a play by
Mr. Jerome after our bitter experience of his _Rowena in Search of a
Father_. To say that his present work is an improvement upon his last
would be to damn it with a fainter praise than it deserves. _The Great
Gamble_ is a strange and inscrutable medley, but it has its exhilarating
moments, and the humour of its dialogue, though it is mitigated by the
Professor's contributions, is worthy of a much better design.