[Speech of William S. Gilbert at a dinner given to him and to Sir Arthur
Sullivan by the Lotos Club, New York City, November 8, 1879. Whitelaw
Reid, the President, in introducing Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Sullivan,
said: "We do not welcome them as men of genius. It sometimes happens
that men of genius do not deserve welcome. But we do greet them as men
who have used their undoubted genius to increase the happiness of
their kind [applause]; men whose success has extended throughout the
nations and has added bright hours to the life of every man and woman
it has touched. [Applause.] That success has depended on no unworthy
means. Respecting themselves and their art, they have always respected
their audiences. They have so married wit and humor, and a most
delicate fancy, and the best light music of the time, to the public
temper, that we have seen here in New York, for example, their piece
so popular that we hadn't theatres enough in town to hold the people
who simultaneously and unanimously wanted to hear it. I propose first
the health of a gentleman who, not merely in the piece that has so
long been the rage of the town, but in a brilliant series of previous
successes, has always given us wit without dirt [applause]--a drama in
which the hero is not a rake, and the heroine is not perpetually
posing and poising between innocence and adultery."]
MR. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN:--As my friend Sullivan and I were
driving to this Club this evening, both of us being very nervous and
very sensitive, and both of us men who are highly conscious of our
oratorical defects and deficiencies, and having before us vividly the
ordeal awaiting us, we cast about for a comparison of our then
condition. We likened ourselves to two authors driving down to a theatre
at which a play of theirs was to be played for the first time. The
thought was somewhat harassing, but we dismissed it, because we
remembered that there was always an even chance of success [laughter],
whereas in the performance in which we were about to take part there was
no prospect of aught but humiliating failure.
We were rather in the position of prisoners surrendering to their bail,
and we beg of you to extend to us your most merciful consideration. But
it is expected of me, perhaps, that in replying to this toast with which
your chairman has so kindly coupled my name, I shall do so in a tone of
the lightest possible comedy. [Laughter.] I had almost said that I am
sorry to say that I cannot do so; but in truth I am not sorry. A man who
has been welcomed as we have been here by the leaders in literature and
art in this city, a man who could look upon that welcome as a string on
which to hang a series of small jokes would show that he was responding
to an honor to which he was not entitled. For it is no light thing to
come to a country which you have been taught to regard as a foreign
country, and to find ourselves in the best sense of the word "at home"
[applause] among a people whom we are taught to regard as strangers, but
whom we are astonished to find are our intimate friends [applause]; and
that proffered friendship is so dear to us that I am disposed, in behalf
of my collaborateur and myself, to stray somewhat from the beaten paths
of after-dinner oratory, and to endeavor to justify ourselves in respect
to a matter in which we have some reason to feel that we have been
misrepresented.
I have seen in several London journals well-meant but injudicious
paragraphs saying that we have a grievance against the New York managers
because they have played our pieces and have offered us no share of the
profits. [Laughter.] We have no grievance whatever. Our only complaint
is that there is no international copyright act. [Applause.] The author
of a play in which there is no copyright is very much in the position
of an author or the descendants of an author whose copyright has
expired. I am not aware that our London publishers are in the habit of
seeking the descendants of Sir Walter Scott or Lord Byron, or Captain
Marryat, and offering them a share of the profits on their publications.
[Laughter.] I have yet to learn that our London managers seek out the
living representatives of Oliver Goldsmith, or Richard Brinsley Sheridan
or William Shakespeare, in order to pay them any share of the profits
from the production of "She Stoops to Conquer," or "The Good-Natured
Man," or "The Merchant of Venice." [Laughter.] If they do so, they do
it on the principle that the right hand knows not what the left hand
doeth [laughter], and as we have not heard of it, we presume, therefore,
that they have not done so. And we believe that if those eminent men
were to request a share of the profits, they would be met with the reply
that the copyright on those works had expired.
And so if we should suggest it to the managers of this country, they
would perhaps reply with at least equal justice: "Gentlemen, your
copyright never existed." That it has never existed is due entirely to
our own fault.
We consulted a New York lawyer, and were informed that, although an
alien author has no right in his works, yet so long as they remain
unpublished, we held the real title in them, and there was no process
necessary to make them our own. We, therefore, thought we would keep it
in unpublished form, and make more profit from the sale of the
pianoforte score and the words of the songs at the theatres and at the
music publishers.
We imagined that the allusions in the piece were so purely British in
their character, so insular in fact, that they would be of no interest
on this side; but events have shown that in that conclusion we were
mistaken. At all events, we have also arrived at the conclusion that we
have nobody to blame but ourselves. As it is, we have realized by the
sale of the book and the piano score in London about $7,500 apiece, and
under those circumstances I do not think we need to be pitied.
[Laughter.] For myself, I certainly do not pose as an object of
compassion. [Laughter.]
We propose to open here on the first of December at the Fifth Avenue
Theatre with a performance of "Pinafore." I will not add the prefixing
initials, because I have no desire to offend your republican sympathies.
[Laughter.] I may say, however, that I have read in some journals that
we have come over here to show you how that piece should be played, but
that I disclaim, both for myself and my collaborateur. We came here to
teach nothing--we have nothing to teach--and perhaps we should have no
pupils if we did. [Laughter.] But apart from the fact that we have no
copyright, and are not yet managers in the United States, we see no
reason why we should be the only ones who are not to be permitted to
play this piece here. [Laughter and applause.]
I think you will admit that we have a legitimate object in opening with
it. We have no means of knowing how it has been played in this country,
but we are informed that it has been played more broadly than in the old
country--and you know that may be better or worse. [Laughter.]
Afterward we propose to produce another piece, and in the fulness of
time the longer it is delayed perhaps the better for us [laughter], and
we propose to present it to an audience [laughter] in the same spirit in
which we presented "Pinafore"--in a most serious spirit--not to permit
the audience to see by anything that occurs on the stage that the actors
are conscious of the really absurd things they are doing. Whether right
or not, that is the way in which it was presented in London. We open
with "Pinafore," not to show how that ought to be played, but to show
how the piece that succeeds is about to be played, and to prepare the
audiences for the reception of our new and highly preposterous story.
[Applause.]
The kindness with which we have been received this evening emboldens me
to believe that perhaps you will not consider this explanation
altogether indecent or ill-timed. I have nothing more, gentlemen, to
say, except to thank you most heartily for the complimentary manner in
which you proposed our health, and to assure you that it is a compliment
which is to me personally as delightful as it is undeserved.
[Applause.]