Enter King PHILIP, the DAUPHIN, and attendant Knights.

Undergraduate in the Stalls (to his Neighbour).  Halloa!  There’s old Johnnie in chain armour and a helmet.  Did you ever see such a rum ’un?  Let’s make him laugh.

    [They do, and the unfortunate Knight infects his fellow
    Knights at a moment when a specially stern demeanour is
    required.

Or again, as here:—­

    The DAUPHIN places his arm round the waist of the Lady
    BLANCH, and conducts her to the back of the stage.

Voice in the Dress Circle.  Look out for the Proctor!

    [General laughter.

But in spite of these and similar exuberances, the play went well from first to last, and the enthusiasm of the audience was unbounded.  It was stated on the programme that Mr. HENRY IRVING had lent the chain-mail and the tapestries.  I have come to the conclusion that he lent himself as well, and then went and pretended he was his own son.  At any rate, while Mr. HENRY IRVING (stated to be of New College) was declaiming as King John, I could have sworn that the impersonator of Shylock and Macbeth was walking the stage.  Voice, gesture, and even mannerisms were there, toned down, of course, to suit the academic atmosphere, but manifest to all who know and love the great original.  My hearty congratulations to the actor, whoever he was, on a most carefully studied and dignified rendering of his difficult part.  Mr. ALAN MACKINNON, who grouped and arranged the whole of the play, was vigorous and spirited as Faulconbridge.  He delivered his insults with immense force and go.  The letter “r” is not an easy one for him to pronounce, but he struggled manfully with this obstacle, and after a time I got perfectly accustomed to the bold tones in which he ordered Austria to “hang a calf-skin chround those chrechreant limbs.” King Philip’s legs were, perhaps, too much inclined to independence, and never quite seemed to have made up their minds where they would settle down, but when once they were fixed the King was every inch a King.  Little Miss MABEL HOARE made us all weep copiously as Arthur.  I have kept Hubert to the last, in order to emphasise my opinion that Mr. CLARK, of New College, who acted this tender-hearted Chamberlain, carried off the chief honours of the performance.  For consistent and restrained force, it would not have been easy to match Mr. CLARK’s impersonation.  Lady RADNOR’s band was delightful, in light-blue and pink bows.

The fight in the Second Act was tremendous.  Never have I seen such dreadful blows delivered with such immense vigour on any other stage.  A very polite French Knight who had taken part in the combat accorded me the honour of an interview afterwards.  I congratulated him, and suggested that so realistic a battle must have been long and carefully rehearsed.  “Rehearsals!” he laughed; “not a bit of it.  We just lace into one another’s heads as hard as we can lick.”  For the benefit of Mr. D’OYLY CARTE and other fighting managers I have given these admirable words as they were spoken.