"WURZEL-FLUMMERY."
There was never any doubt about the freshness and spontaneity of Mr.
MILNE'S humour. The only question was whether an author so fastidiously
unstagey, who never underlines his intentions, would be able to accommodate
himself to the conditions of a medium that discourages the elliptical
method. Well, he did it, and very artfully. He began by making concessions
to the habits of his new audience. He wouldn't try them too high at first.
In the person of _Robert Crawshaw, M.P._ (Mr. NIGEL PLAYFAIR), he
introduced them to a more or less conventional type--exposed, it is true,
to a very unusual test of character but dealing with it as such a type was
bound to deal. Then, having inspired confidence, he created a rarer
atmosphere, and in _Denis Clifton_, a blend of solicitor and play-wright,
he produced a figure of fantasy whose delightfully irresponsible humour
might have found his audience a little shy at an earlier stage. There was a
real note of distinction, extraordinarily well maintained, in _Clifton's_
dialogue with _Crawshaw_ and the boy-clerk, and Mr. MILNE was particularly
fortunate to have the part interpreted by Mr. DION BOUCICAULT, who
developed qualities undreamed of in my previous estimation of his gifts.
When that inveterate cynic, _Anthony Clifton_, made a will (it is not Mr.
MILNE'S fault that, since he wrote his play before going out to the Front,
we have had two others turning on eccentric bequests) leaving £50,000 each
to two perfect strangers on the condition that they adopted the
preposterous name of Wurzel-Flummery, he hoped to have the grim
satisfaction of witnessing, from the grave, an exhibition of human
weakness. Of the two legatees--politicians on opposite sides of the
House--_Crawshaw_, whose whiskers gave him the air of a successful grocer
of the mid-Victorian period, found reasons sufficiently convincing to
himself for accepting the testator's terms; while _Richard Meriton_, who
had little besides his salary as an M.P., took the high line of proper
pride and declared his determination to refuse. Mr. MILNE, by the way, did
not specify the respective politics of these two, but I judge, from my
knowledge of his own, that _Crawshaw_ was meant to be a Tory and _Meriton_
a Liberal.
The latter eventually succumbed to pressure on the part of _Crawshaw's_
daughter, who cared nothing for names so long as she could marry the man of
her choice--a prospect denied to her by her father, who thought little of
poor men. Meanwhile _Meriton's_ lofty attitude of general contempt for
money, and particular contempt for it when offered on degrading terms, gave
scope for a little serious relief.
[Illustration: THE POLITICIAN AT HOME.
_Robert Crawshaw, M.P_ ... MR. NIGEL PLAYFAIR.
_Mrs. Crawshaw_ ... MISS HELEN HAYE.]
There are, of course, more ways of viewing the question than could be
compressed into so short a play. Myself, I confess to a sneaking sympathy
with the standpoint of _Crawshaw_. Money for him did not mean mere
self-indulgence; it meant outward show--a house in a better neighbourhood,
a more expensive car, a higher status in the opinion of his world--all the
things that somehow help in what is called a career. By accepting the fifty
thousand pounds he would gain something in the public eye; by assuming the
name of Wurzel-Flummery he would lose something. He weighed the two against
one another, and concluded that he would gain more than he would lose. This
argument furnished a good enough motive according to his lights.
_Meriton_, on the other hand, after professing to prefer a clean heart to
filthy lucre, is persuaded by _Violet Crawshaw_, who argues that he would
surely make any sacrifice to save her from starving, and she was starving
for love. So he yields, saying, in effect, to Honour, "I love thee, dear; I
love thee much; but I love _Violet_ more." Incidentally he takes care to
overlook the fact that he was not nobly suffering an indignity for the sake
of a great cause--such, let us say, as the founding of a hospital--but that
he himself stood to gain at least as much as the girl. I am almost afraid
that _Meriton_ was a bit of a hypocrite. Certainly, in view of his exalted
standards, he came out of the business worse than _Crawshaw_ did. Perhaps,
after all, Mr. MILNE meant him to be a Tory.
But I must not exploit the pleasant field of casuistry opened up by the
author's theme, but content myself with complimenting him very heartily on
his share of this triple bill, in which, at the first attempt, he held his
own in the company of so experienced an artist as Sir JAMES BARRIE. I ought
to add that he had an excellent cast, very quick to appreciate and
reproduce the iridescent gaiety of his humour.