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