“THE RECRUITING OFFICER.
| Captain Plume | Mr. Drew |
| Captain Brazen | Mr. Parkes |
| Justice Balance | Mr. Fisher |
| Sergeant Kite | Mr. Lewis |
| Mr. Worthy | Mr. Skinner |
| Bullock | Mr. Gilbert |
| Appletree | Mr. Bond |
| Pearman | Mr. Wilks |
| Balance’s Steward | Mr. Beekman |
| Mistress Melinda | Miss Virginia Dreher |
| Rose | Miss May Fielding |
| Lucy | Miss May Irwin |
| Sylvia | Miss Ada Rehan |
“I am called Captain, sir, by all the drawers and groom-porters in London,” said Miss Ada Rehan at Daly’s Theater last night. And bravely she wore her red coat and sword, the martial twist in her cravat, the fierce knot in her periwig, the cane upon her button, and the dice in her pocket. The audience were in ecstasies.
It was a revival of “The Recruiting Officer,” by George Farquhar. The manners of Queen Anne’s day were reproduced on Mr. Daly’s stage. Captain Plume and Sergeant Kite were enlisting the country lads and paying court to the country lasses. Justice Balance was keeping watch over the morals of his daughter Sylvia. Sprightly Mistress Melinda was intriguing for the hand of young Worthy. Brazen was bragging of his service in Flanders against the French and in Hungary against the Turks. The atmosphere was charged with love, and the stage resounded with the tap of the drum.
The audience was in a curious and observant mood. The doings on the stage were of a wholly unfamiliar kind. The language sounded strangely fantastic to modern ears. Ladies held their breath at the bygone sentiment of the play. Men met in groups between the acts and wondered what was the secret of its original success. Its secret was tolerably simple. It was written at the time of Marlborough’s earlier victories. Blenheim had just been won. A military fever possessed the country. Rustics went marching round the fields with ribbons in their caps. The recruiting officer was seen in every town. The popular song of the hour was:
Over the hills and over the main
To Flanders, Portugal and Spain:
The Queen commands and we’ll obey;
Over the hills and far away.
Moreover, there was a steady flow of indecency in the comedy. The town had been growing dull. Congreve had retired into the intimacy of the Duchess of Marlborough. Wycherley was writing feeble poems under the tutorship of that rising young man, Alexander Pope. Vanbrugh was giving his attention to architecture. Jeremy Collier and his moral tractate had exorcised the merry devils off the stage, and the pit mourned their departure. So “The Recruiting Officer,” with its broad jests, was particularly welcome. Captain Plume, with his amorous devices, became the ideal of the army, and pretty Rose, with her chickens, furnished laughter for the mess-room and coffee-houses.
Human nature has not much changed. Mr. Daly’s audience last night was as fashionable an audience as could be gathered in the city. Yet the few suggestive lines which he has left in the piece excited the loudest laugh. Americans are not squeamish with these old plays. They know that the comedies of the Restoration were not models of propriety. They know that George Farquhar, the rollicking Irish captain, was not a preacher of morality. And if the piece hung fire at times, if it seemed a trifle heavy and monotonous, it was because the spectators had been credited with a prudery which they did not seem to possess.
The company was a little out of its element. Mr. Drew, in particular, should have been livelier and airier, conducting his love affairs with as light a touch as Charles Mathews might have conducted them in other days, or Mr. Wallack to-day. Mr. Fisher, too, pressed with too heavy a hand on such niceties of character as have been discovered in Justice Balance; and Mr. James Lewis, though discreet and refined in his humor, extracted none of the exuberant fun from Sergeant Kite with which critics of the past have supposed that unscrupulous personage to overflow. Mr. Skinner was a dignified young lover, and Mr. Parkes amused as Brazen. But the honors of the evening rested with Miss Virginia Dreher, who looked radiantly beautiful in a web of lace and gold, and with Miss Ada Rehan, who had the bold step, the rakish toss and the impudent air of your true military gallant. She was not Peg Woffington, perhaps, but she was a charming woman in disguise, and the town will be curious to see her.