XXII
“WATERLOO”—“KING ARTHUR”—“DON QUIXOTE”
I
One day early in March 1892, whilst we were rehearsing Tennyson’s play, The Foresters, which in accordance with the author’s request was produced for copyright purposes at the Lyceum, Irving came into the office in a hurry. He was a little late. He, Loveday and myself always used the same office, as we found it in all ways convenient for our perpetual consultations. As he came hurrying out to the stage, after putting on the brown soft broad-brimmed felt hat for which he usually exchanged his “topper” during rehearsals, he stopped beside my table where I was writing, and laying a parcel on it said:
“I wish you would throw an eye over that during rehearsal. It came this morning. You can tell me what you think of it when I come off!”
I took up the packet and unrolled a number of type-written sheets a little longer than foolscap. I read it with profound interest and was touched to my very heart’s core by its humour and pathos. It was very short, and before Irving came in again from the stage I had read it a second time. When he came in he said presently in an unconcerned way:
“By the way, did you read that play?”
“Yes!”
“What do you think of it?”
“I think this,” I said, “that that play is never going to leave the Lyceum. You must own it—at any price. It is made for you.”
“So I think, too!” he said heartily. “You had better write to the author to-day and ask him what cheque we are to send. We had better buy the whole rights.”