ROSMER's _study. Doors and windows, bookshelves, a
writing-table. Door, with curtain, leading to ROSMER's
bedroom. ROSMER discovered in a smoking-jacket cutting
a pamphlet with a paper-knife. There is a knock at the
door. ROSMER says, "Come in." REBECCA enters in a morning
wrapper and curl-papers. She sits on a chair close to ROSMER,
and looks over his shoulder as he cuts the leaves. Rector
KROLL is shown up._
_Kroll_ (_lays his hat on the table and looks at REB. from head to
foot_). I am really afraid that I am in the way.
_Reb._ (_surprised_). Because I am in my morning wrapper and
curl-papers? You forget that I am _emancipated_, Rector KROLL.
[_She leaves them and listens behind curtain in ROSMER's
bedroom._
_Rosmer_. Yes, Miss WEST and I have worked our way forward in faithful
comradeship.
_Kroll_ (_shakes his head at him slowly_). So I perceive. Miss WEST
is naturally inclined to be forward. But, I say, _really_ you know--
However, I came to tell you that poor BEATA was not so mad as she
looked, though flowers _did_ bewilder her so. (_Taking off his gloves
meaningly._) She jumped into the mill-race because she had an idea
that you ought to marry Miss WEST!
_Rosmer_ (_jumps half up from his chair_). I? Marry--Miss WEST!
my good gracious, KROLL! I don't _understand_, it is _most_
incomprehensible. (_Looks fixedly before him_.) How _can_ people--
(_looks at him for a moment, then rises._) Will you get out? (_Still
quiet and self-restrained._) But first tell me why you never mentioned
this before?
_Kroll_. Why? Because I thought you were both orthodox, which made all
the difference. Now I know that you side with LAURITS and HILDA, and
mean to make the democracy into noblemen, and accordingly I intend to
make it hot for you in my paper. _Good_ morning! [_He slams the door
with spite as_ REBECCA _enters from bed-room._
_Rosmer_ (_as if surprised_). You--in my bedroom! You have been
listening, dear? But you _are_ so emancipated. Ah, well! so our pure
and beautiful friendship has been misinterpreted, bespattered! Just
because you wear a morning wrapper, and have lived here alone for
a year, people with coarse souls and ignoble eyes make unpleasant
remarks! But what really _did_ drive BEATA mad? _Why_ did she jump
into the mill-race? I'm sure we did everything we could to spare her!
I made it the business of my life to keep her in ignorance of all our
interests--_didn't_ I, now?
_Reb._ You did--but why brood over it? What _does_ it matter? Get on
with your great, beautiful task, dear, (_approaching him cautiously
from behind_), winning over minds and wills, and creating noblemen,
you know--_joyful_ noblemen!
_Rosmer_ (_walking about, restlessly, as if in thought_). Yes, I
know. I have never laughed in the whole course of my life--we ROSMERS
don't--and so I felt that spreading gladness and light, and making
the democracy joyful, was properly my mission. But _now_--I feel too
upset to go on, REBECCA, unless-- (_Shakes his head heavily._) Yes, an
idea has just occurred to me--(_looks at her, and then runs his hands
through his hair_)--oh, my goodness, no--I _can't_.
[_He leans his elbows on table._
_Reb._ Be a free man to the full, ROSMER--tell me your idea.
_Rosmer_ (_gloomily_). I don't know what you'll say to it. It's this.
Our platonic comradeship was all very well while I was peaceful and
happy. Now that I'm bothered and badgered, I feel--_why_, I can't
exactly explain, but I _do_ feel that I must oppose a new and living
reality to the gnawing memories of the past. I should, perhaps,
explain that this is equivalent to an Ibsenian proposal.
_Reb._ (_catches at the chairback with joy_). How? at _last_--a rise
at last! (_Recollects herself._) But what am I about? Am I not an
emancipated enigma? (_Puts her hands over her ears as if in terror._)
What are you saying? You mustn't. I can't _think_ what you mean. Go
away, do!
_Rosmer_ (_softly_). Be the new and living reality. It is the only way
to put BEATA out of the Saga. Shall we try it?
_Reb._ Never! Do not--_do_ not ask me why--for I haven't a notion--but
never! (_Nods slowly to him and rises._) White Horses would not induce
me! (_With her hand on door-handle._) Now you _know_! [_She goes out._
_Rosmer_ (_sits up, stares thunderstruck at the stove, and says to
himself_). Well--I--_am_-- [_Quick Curtain._
[The remaining two Acts of this subtle psychological study
unavoidably held over.]
* * * * *
"KEEP YOUR HARE ON!"
[Illustration: Hare's Theatre.]
In not following the advice given in the headline to this article,
clever Mr. PINERO has made a mistake. _Lady Bountiful_ with only a
very little HARE is a disappointment. The majority of those who go to
"Hare's Theatre" (they don't speak of it as "The Garrick") go to see
the Lessee and Manager in a new part: and they go to see a lot of him:
they don't ask merely for a small piece of HARE, if you please, though
they might be satisfied with HARE in a small piece. Everyone goes
expecting to see him in a good part in a good Comedy, his good part
being equal to the better part of the whole entertainment; and if they
don't so see him, they are disappointed. Why was Mr. GRUNDY's happy
translation of _Les Oiseaux_ peculiarly successful? because it was
a light, fresh, and pretty piece, wherein the occasional phrase in
a minor key was so artistically introduced as to be a relish to our
enjoyment of the humour of the characters and of the situations; but
all this would have gone for comparatively little had it not been
for the excellence of Mr. HARE's rendering of the first-rate part
of _Goldfinch_, which did not consist of occasional flashes, only to
collapse and disappear in the penultimate Act, but continued right
through to the end, dominating everything and everybody. This is not
so with _Lady Bountiful_. The appearance of _Roderick Heron_, who is
no creation of the Author's, as he admits, but merely _Mr. Skimpole_
under another name, raises hopes at the commencement, which are
blighted long before the finish. The part gutters out, as does Mr.
CHARLES GROVE's _John Veale_, another "promise of spring." Young Mr.
GILBERT HARE makes a most creditable first appearance as _Sir Lucian
Brent, Bart_. He is easy and natural.
For the greater part of the educated audience, it might have been
more useful if _Sir Richard Philliter, Q.C._, had gone about with an
old Eton Latin Grammar in his pocket, instead of a _Horace_; and if
Miss KATE RORKE had divided with him the quotation, "_Nemo mortalium
omnibus horis sapit._" He, being rejected, might have commenced,
"_Nemo mortalium_," and she might have continued, "_omnibus horis_;"
then, both together, "_sapit_." Or when she had snubbed him, he
might have made some telling remark about "_Verbum personale_," and
so forth. The introduction of a quotation from _Horace_ is likely
rather to be resented than appreciated by the victims of a superior
education. What a bad quarter of an hour or so Paterfamilias will have
when Materfamilias asks him for the translation of these lines from
_Horace_! Poor Pater will pretend not to have "quite caught them;" or
"not been attending;" but to himself he will own how entirely he has
forgotten his Latin, and perhaps he will make a good resolution to
himself to "look up his _Horace_ again." Then the learned young lady
will be asked by her Mamma, or by her sharp young bothering sister,
"what that Latin means," and though she might be able to construe
it when she sees it, to translate it offhand at one hearing is a
difficulty, and she will evade the question by saying, "Please, don't
talk! I want to listen to the piece."
The youth in the Stalls, fresh from college or school, will be about
as much equal to the translation offhand as is young _Sir Lucian
Brent_ when asked by Mr. CATHCART to give the meaning of the Latin on
the ancient brasses in the old church, and they won't thank you for
bringing school studies into playtime. On the whole, nothing is gained
by this Dr. Panglossian introduction of Latin quotation; it doesn't
help the action, nor emphasise a character, nor does it strengthen a
situation, to bring in even the most appropriate lines which are not
"in a language understanded of the people." _Sir Richard Philliter,
Q.C._, might be known in private life to his friends as Sir HORACE
DAVUS (_Non Oedipus_). Mr. CATHCART's _Pedgrift_, parish clerk and
sexton, is an excellent little character-sketch, as is also that of
_Mrs. Hornutt_, the pew-opener.
As for Mr. FORBES ROBERTSON and Miss KATE RORKE, they seemed to me to
be what the author had made them--i.e., stagey. Miss DOLORES DRUMMOND,
as _Mrs. Veale_, is very good, and Miss MARIE LINDEN, except in one
stagey bit in the Third Act, plays with great care and judgment.
The interior of the old country church (Act III.) is a masterpiece
of scenic art and stage arrangement,--a perfect picture by Mr.
W. HARFORD. I wish I could say the same of the _dénoûment_ of the
interrupted marriage, which strongly reminded me of a pictorial
heading to some exciting chapter in a penny novelette or _The London
Journal_. It is a very weak finish, and not strengthened or improved
in any way by the line _Sir Richard Philliter, Q.C._, has to say,
on which the Curtain descends. And what does everybody exclaim
afterwards? Simply, "Why there's nothing for HARE to do in it. We
thought we should see him again, and that he would come out all
right at last." That's the feeling. They can't bear the idea of their
favourite first-class Comedian being a sordid, swindling old villain,
unless the character be exceptionally amusing. _Lady Bountiful_ might
be termed "A bald piece," because it has so little HARE.
* * * * *