DRURIOLANUS has scored another success. And why not? Surely he deserves
it, for, with the assistance of his two collaborators, CECIL RALEIGH and
HENRY HAMILTON, Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS has trained a Derby winner that will
carry all before him over the Drury Lane course until the place is
required for the pantomime. And the training has been most judicious.
The problem the three stable companions (for the piece is nothing if not
horsey) set themselves was to produce a drama that would fill the Grand
National Theatre both before and behind the curtain. This problem they
have solved to the satisfaction of all parties.
[Illustration: "Three to One on."]
The method adopted is simple enough. Take, for instance, the First Act.
One of the authors no doubt suggested the interior of a country house.
"Quite so," says DRURIOLANUS, "a nobleman's country house. I will show
you how to do it." And he does. "O _Todgers's_ can do it when it likes!"
Gorgeous hall with a billiard table thrown in at the back to give an
idea of the luxury and magnitude. And then the company! Earls and
Countesses and Lords and Ladies and a Duchess! Why, even the villain is
a major in a crack cavalry regiment, and the low comedian a surgeon who
has worn the Queen's uniform. Apparently to give the latter additional
aristocratic gloss, the Duchess is made to be in love with him. And the
plot? Why, of course. Let Miss ALMA STANLEY arrive direct from India to
sow discord between my Lord the hero and my Lady the heroine. This she
does, looking charming in her villainy, and wearing a striking costume.
My Lord tells her "to begone" (a most unreasonable request, by the way,
as she has arrived at the Hall in the middle of the night, with
evidently any number of boxes), but she won't. Miss ALMA STANLEY prefers
to faint in my Lord's arms, to the great indignation of my Lady. Tableau
and curtain.
Next, please. The Downs, and a trial of the 'osses. Then we have a meet
of horses, saddle and otherwise. The "otherwise" are harnessed to a
pony-chaise that looks as if it had come from the Lowther Arcade. Miss
ALMA STANLEY rides in on a steed of her own. My Lord, the hero, objects
to the gracious presence of this fair equestrian, and gets a
horse-whipping for his trouble. Then the trial comes off. The noble
animals canter across the stage. The _dramatis personæ_ describe their
progress to one another as they make the running behind the scenes. All
first-rate and life-like. Haven't we seen it ourselves in the early
morn? Then they reappear (amidst immense enthusiasm) as cardboard
profile in the distance, to make a final entry in the horseflesh from
the O. P. wings. Capitally done, and a great success. Stalls, Circle,
Pit, Boxes, and Gallery, all delighted. So are they with the military
ball at York. Nearly everybody in uniform. Hussars, Gunners,
Highlanders, Fusileers, and Yeomen. My Lord the hero appears as Colonel
of his county Yeomanry. Quite right, he has left the service, and taken
to the reserve. Then there is the cotillion, and my Lord finds himself,
to his surprise, dancing with Miss ALMA STANLEY. He is again caught by
my Lady, the heroine (the poor chap is always compromising himself at
the wrong moment), and there is of course only one solution to this
embarrassing situation, and that is,--curtain. No better ball scene been
on the stage for years. DRURIOLANUS has all the details at his
fingertips, and the ball at his feet. Keep it rolling!
In the next Act we find that the Countess, in full ball costume, has
eloped with the Villainous Major to a hotel. My Lady has allowed her
companion to describe themselves as Mr. and Mrs. So-and-So in the
porter's book. But thus far and no farther. When the Major politely begs
the loan of her heart, the Countess bids him go, and treats him really
with absolute rudeness. The Major, after a terrible struggle with my
Lady, in which he gets the worst of it, is completely crushed, and
probably inwardly laments the very considerable expense to which he must
have been put by the elopement. At this crisis enter my Lord the hero.
Row and tableau. After this, the audience feels that the correct
prescription is to cut the dialogue and come to the "'osses." And to a
great extent this prescription is adopted. There is a first-class scene
of a sale at Tattersall's, and a very realistic view of the finish at
the Derby. The throng cheer behind the curtain, and so does the throng
in front of it. The task is complete: both sides of the green baize are
crowded with excited people.
It is exceptionally good. Scenery, music, general stage management, and
incidental music all excellent. Mrs. JOHN WOOD first-rate, as good as
ever, and Miss ALMA STANLEY greatly distinguishes herself. So does Mr.
CARTWRIGHT as the most matter-of-fact villain that "in this distressful
country has ever yet been seen." When he murders, or ruins, or seriously
inconveniences anyone, he observes _sotto voce_ to himself, in a tone
that would be equally appropriate were he thanking an omnibus conductor
for giving him change for sixpence, "I thought I should do it." Then Mr.
ARTHUR BOURCHIER and Miss BEATRICE LAMB as My Lord and My Lady could not
be better. And Miss PATTIE BROWNE, Miss L. MOODIE, and Miss HETTIE DENE,
all the right people in the right places, as are both Mr. GEORGE GIDDENS
and Mr. LIONEL RIGNOLD. To sum up, _The Derby Winner_ has won, and Sir
DRURIOLANUS has more than satisfied his enthusiastic backers the public,
and he and they will have a real good run for their money.
[Illustration: "Sold!"]
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