One of the greatest attractions in Town to the Country Cousin I need
scarcely say is the Theatre. Speaking for myself, it is the place
I earliest visit when I get to London, and consequently I was not
surprised to find myself the other evening in the Adelphi, on the
first night of a new play. As an Irishman might guess, from its name
(_The English Rose_), the piece is all about Ireland. Both State and
Church are represented therein--the former by a comic sergeant of the
Royal Constabulary, and the latter by a priest, who wears a hat in the
first Act that would have entirely justified his being Boycotted. The
plot is not very strong, and suggests recollections of the _Flying
Scud, Arrah Na Pogue_, and _The Silver King_. The acting is fairly
satisfactory, the cast including a star, supported by an efficient
company. The star is a horse that pranced about the stage in the most
natural manner possible, carefully avoiding the orchestra. In spite,
however, of his anxiety to keep out of the stalls, suggestive as they
were (but only in name) of the stable, some little alarm was created
in the neighbourhood of the Conductor, which did not entirely subside
until the fall of the curtain. But the sagacious steed knew its
business thoroughly well, and was indeed an admirable histrion.
Only once, at the initial performance, did this intelligent creature
remember its personality, and drop the public actor in the private
individual. The occasion was when it had to put its head out of a
loose-box to listen to the singing of a serio-comic song by a lady,
dressed as a "gossoon." For a few minutes the talented brute made a
pretence of eating some property foliage, and then, catching sight
of the audience, it deliberately _counted the house!_ I regret to
add that, in spite of the valuable support afforded by this useful
member of the Messrs. GATTI's Company, its name did not appear in the
playbill.
[Illustration: A BREAKDOWN AT THE LYCEUM!
(_Imported from the Gaiety._)]
A few evenings later I had a second time the advantage of being
present at a first night's performance. The occasion was, the
production of _The Great Unknown_, by AUGUSTIN DALY's Company of
Comedians. I found the piece described as a "new eccentric Comedy,"
but, beyond a certain oddness in the distribution of the characters
of the cast, did not notice much novelty or eccentricity. The life
and soul of the evening's entertainment was Miss ADA REHAN, a talented
lady, who (so I was told) has made her mark in _Rosalind_, in _As You
Like It_, and _Katharina_, in the _Taming of the Shrew._ I can quite
believe that Miss REHAN is a great success in parts of the calibre
of the Shakspearian heroines I have mentioned; nay, more, I fancy she
would do something with _Lady Macbeth_, and be quite in her element
as _Emilia_, in _Othello_. But, as she had to play an _ingénue_, aged
eighteen, in _The Great Unknown_, she was not quite convincing. It
was a very good part. In the First Act she had to coax her papa, and
flirt with her cousin; in the second, to respond to a declaration of
love with a burst of womanly feeling; and, in the third, to play the
hoyden, and dance a breakdown. All this was done to perfection, but
not by a young lady of eighteen. Miss ADA REHAN was charming, but
looked, and I fancy felt, many years older than her legal majority.
I question whether she was an _ingénue_ at all, but, if she were, she
was an _ingénue_ of great and varied experience. When Mrs. BANCROFT
appeared as the girl-pupil in _School_, she was the character to the
life; but when Miss REHAN calls herself _Etna_, throws herself on
sofas, and hugs a man with less inches than herself, we cannot but
feel that it is very superior play-acting, but still play-acting. Take
it all round, I was delighted with the lady at the Lyceum, and the
horse at the Adelphi, and nearly regret that, having to leave town, I
shall not have the opportunity of seeing either of them again.
Yours faithfully. A CRITIC FROM THE COUNTRY.
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