Then, as he passes beyond the mortal ken,
His glory shall go with him even then,
Not as a hope, a doubt, and a desire,
But as a spark of his own living fire,
Of his eternal self a priceless part,
Eternal witness to his mind and heart.
And so, to-night, when she who comes from far
To show in one what many women are,
Sits at our board, and makes our evening shine,
Breaks bread with us, and pledges in our wine,
Let us be quick to honor in our guest
So many a phase of life by her expressed.
Portia’s most gracious, yet submissive word—
“You are my king, my governor, my lord;”
Her courage, dignity, and force,
Warning the Jew that justice shall have course;
The trenchant wit of Beatrice, and her pride,
Her loyalty as friend, her faith as bride;
Letitia’s stratagems; the tragic fate
Of sweet Ophelia, crushed by madness’ weight.
How many chords of happiness or woe,
Her lips that quiver and her cheeks that glow;
Her speech now clear, now clouded, and her eyes
Filling by turns with anguish, mirth, surprise—
Can wake to throb, again to rest can still—
Potent her power as Prospero’s magic will!
Present alone is hers—alone is ours,
Now, while she plants, must we, too, cull the flowers?
For future wreaths she has no time to wait;
Unready now, they are for aye too late.
Now is the moment our regard to show,
Let every face with light of welcome glow;
Let smiles shine forth, glad words be spoken;
Formality for once be broken.
Let hand strike hand, let kerchiefs wave,
Keep not her laurels for her grave;
Twine our proud chaplet for her fair, smooth brow,
And bid her take our share of tribute now;
Then shall it be a recollection dear,
That we to-night greet Ellen Terry here!
III.
Irving, who could not be present at the Papyrus Club (it was one of Miss Terry’s “off nights,” when either “The Bells” or “Louis XI.” was performed), was received at the St. Botolph’s Club soon after the Papyrus festivities closed. In the absence of the President, ex-Mayor Green, the Vice-President, and Mr. Secretary Sullivan did the honors of the evening. An interesting meeting on this occasion was the introduction of Irving to Oliver Wendell Holmes, who later, at the matinée performance of “Charles the First,”[31] was quite overcome with the pathos of the play. Apart from the number and enthusiasm of his audiences, Mr. Irving’s personal reception by the leading men of Boston—littérateurs, professors, and scholars—might well have given point to the few eloquent words which he addressed to the house on the closing performance of “The Bells” and “The Belle’s Stratagem.” He said:—
Ladies and Gentlemen,—I have the privilege of thanking you, for myself, and in behalf of my comrades, and especially in behalf of my gifted sister, Miss Ellen Terry, for the way in which you have received our tragedy, comedy, and melodrama. In coming to this country I have often said that I felt I was coming among friends; and I have had abundant and most touching proof that I was right. This I have never felt more truly than in your historic city of New England, which seems a veritable bit of old England. In this theatre we have been on classic ground, and if we have, while upon these boards, accomplished anything tending, in your opinion, to the advancement of a great art, in which we are all deeply interested, we are more than repaid and more than content. It affords me great pleasure to tell you that, if all be well, we shall return to Boston in March, when I hope to present, for the first time on our tour, “Much Ado About Nothing.” And now, ladies and gentlemen, in the names of one and all, I gratefully thank you, and respectfully wish you “Good-by, and a Merry Christmas.”