The stage-management of the play was very good; the scenery nothing out of the ordinary except for the Church Scene.  There was no question that it was a church, hardly a question that old Mead was a Friar.  Henry had the art of making ceremonies seem very real.

This was the first time that we engaged a singer from outside.  Mr. Jack Robertson came into the cast to sing “Sigh no more, ladies,” and made an enormous success.

Johnston Forbes-Robertson made his first appearance at the Lyceum as Claudio.  I had not acted with him since “The Wandering Heir,” and his improvement as an actor in the ten years that had gone by since then was marvelous.  I had once said to him that he had far better stick to his painting and become an artist instead of an actor.  His Claudio made me “take it back.”  It was beautiful.  I have seen many young actors play the part since then, but not one of them made it anywhere near as convincing.  Forbes-Robertson put a touch of Leontes into it, a part which some years later he was to play magnificently, and through the subtle indication of consuming and insanely suspicious jealousy made Claudio’s offensive conduct explicable at least.  On the occasion of the performance at Drury Lane which the theatrical profession organized in 1906 in honor of my Stage Jubilee, one of the items in the programme was a scene from “Much Ado about Nothing.”  I then played Beatrice for the last time and Forbes-Robertson played his old part of Claudio.

During the run Henry commissioned him to paint a picture of the Church Scene, which was hung in the Beefsteak Room.  The engravings printed from it were at one time very popular.  When Johnston was asked why he had chosen that particular moment in the Church Scene, he answered modestly that it was the only moment when he could put himself as Claudio at the “side”!  Some of the other portraits in the picture are Henry Irving, Terriss, who played Don Pedro; Jessie Millward as Hero, Mr. Glenny as Don John, Miss Amy Coleridge, Miss Harwood, Mr. Mead, and his daughter “Charley” Mead, a pretty little thing who was one of the pages.

The Lyceum company was not a permanent one.  People used to come, learn something, go away, and come back at a larger salary!  Miss Emery left for a time, and then returned to play Hero and other parts.  I liked her Hero better than Miss Millward’s.  Miss Millward had a sure touch; strength, vitality, interest; but somehow she was commonplace in the part.

Henry used to spend hours and hours teaching people.  I used to think impatiently:  “Acting can’t be taught.”  Gradually I learned to modify this conviction and to recognize that there are two classes of actors: 

1.  Those who can only do what they are taught.

2.  Those who cannot be taught, but can be helped by suggestion to work out things for themselves.