“THE DARLING OF THE GODS”
It was the beginning of November, 1903, when Mr. Spielmann told me that
Sir Herbert Tree (Mr. Tree, then) was going to reproduce a Japanese play
called “The Darling of the Gods.” I might be a useful help for him. Did
I care to work that? I answered him positively. Only a few days later I
received a letter from Sir Beerbohm Tree, “Will you come to see us
immediately?”
I went to the stage door of His Majesty’s Theater. First person I met
there was Mr. Michael Morton.
“What part of Japan do you come from?” was his question.
I answered most rapidly--“Aichi Ken, Mikawan o Kuni, Nishikamo-Gori
Koromo cho O-Aza Komomo Aza Jimokudai.”
I was sure that he could not catch a single word, but he showed a most
satisfactory smile. Afterwards I learnt from him that he was rather
afraid that I might not be a real Japanese, because I “don’t look like
Japanese.” Good gracious! I wanted so badly to show him my Keidsu
(family tree), which my brother is keeping in Japan. With that family
tree you can trace as far back as more than a thousand years, when my
ancestor was a royal prince.
“Shika mo Seisei toto taru Seiwa-Gengi no Matsuyeo nari Anakashiko,
Anakashiko!” (At least, am the descendant of the purest and most
worshipful Gengi family, the true offspring of the Emperor Sewa. Amen!
Amen!)
Mr. Morton and I have become such great friend to each other now.
Although I have made hundreds friends in London since then, whenever I
count my very best friends in my one hand I always bend one finger for
him. That is to say, he is one of the five best friends among hundreds.
Wherever I go, he always tries to come and see me, and he was the
frequent visitor while I was in Paris.
Mr. Morton took me to Mr. Tree’s dressing-room during the evening
performance, and I saw Sir Beerbohm Tree first time as “Richard II.”
Miss Lena Ashwell came into the room a few minutes later. She told me
she was going to take a part in “The Darling of the Gods.” A call-boy
informed Mr. Tree, “Time, sir,” again and again, and he was on and off
the whole evening. We all had a little chat, hearing the cheering voices
for “The Bolinbroke,” “Thunders” at Wales Coast, the Bells of
Westminster, and the Pipers outside the Tower of London, everything
which was going on on the stage downstairs. Morton brought me to Mr.
Dana’s room, and we settled the “business matter.” Gentler, easier and
fairer than any business I had before! I said to myself, “Oh, I don’t
hate the business matter now! I see it does not always taste like castor
oil. This is perfectly honey!”
From the next day I had to attend the rehearsal from eleven to four. I
knew that Mr. Tree would not like any stranger to watch the rehearsal.
But to my surprise I saw a strange gentleman sitting on one of the stall
seats and watching us. He came to me and said, “How do you do, Mr.
Markino?”
I looked at him quite curiously. He said, “I am Mr. Tree.”
Oh, I was so much ashamed of myself. I have seen him ever so many times
on the stage, but that was my very first time to see his private face,
and I could not recognize him. Why, how could he transfigure himself
such as Richard II. last night? He is most wonderful actor for “making
up,” and I renewed my amazement once more when he “made up” himself as
Zakuri. A real Japanese villain!
The way Mr. Tree and Mr. Morton drilled all those “extra” ladies and
supers was wonderful. I can never forget their patientful task. They
asked me to make them “real Japanese,” and “to be very particular for
everything, and not a bit of mercy for that.” Every word of mine was the
rule for them. I knew I was such a dreadful demon to them. Poor “extra
ladies” so often had to sit on the hard floor half-an-hour, or even an
hour, according how the rehearsal was going on. Those leading actors and
actresses shared this torturing all the same. But they were so wonderful
the way every one of them caught the real spirit of Japan.
There was a Japanese restaurant near Bloomsbury at this time. One
afternoon I took Mr. Tree, Miss Ashwell, Miss Constance Collier, and
Mr. Morton there. We sat down on cushions and ate Japanese dinner with
chop-sticks. Mr. Tree said, “I really feel that I am Japanese,” and I
saw on the stage that he was as good as his words.
Miss Ashwell copied my sister so well from her photo. I often wished to
call her my sister.
As the first night was approaching I began to be so busy. Besides the
daily rehearsal, I had to look after costumes, coiffure, and scenery
painting, to see if all the details were correct. Last few nights the
rehearsal was going on as late as four or five o’clock in morning. I
could not sleep more than four hours.
My actor friends used to invite me to “a Samurai dinner” at various
restaurants. Yes, all were “Samurais”--mock Samurais of the prosperous
English actors, and one real Samurai in miserable poverty.
I am still keeping the intimate friendship with some of these
“Samurais.”
Was the rehearsal of this play merely a pleasure to me? No, there was
something more serious and more important for my life. I don’t think I
have ever told that even to Sir Beerbohm Tree before. Now let me
confess it freely. It was such a valuable study for my art. It was a
best chance to look all those pretty ladies and handsome actors so
closely and to watch all their movements. Where else could I have such a
chance! I stared at their faces and I stared at their figures all
through the rehearsing time. Nobody thought of me vulgar, as it might
happen so if I did the same at any public place, for it was my duty to
rehearse them. And when I went back to my room I used to draw them from
memory. What a good life class it was!
Of course I was as faithful of my duty as possible. So my brain was
twice busier than Mr. Tree was imagining.
After this play was put on I often visited the theater to meet all my
actress and actor friends. One evening while I was watching the play
from the wing, the stage manager teased me to push me on the stage. I
was so frightened that on the same night I had a nightmare, that I fell
on the stage while the curtain was up. More than once I repeated this
nightmare, and when I was awaken and found myself in bed I was so happy.
I am sure that the stage manager’s joke affected on my nerves too much.