“Thank you with all my heart,” says Irving.
“And we would like to ask you a few questions, and to have you talk about your plans in this country. You open in ‘The Bells,’—that was one of your first great successes?”
“Yes.”
“You will produce your plays here just in the same way as in London?” chimes in a second interviewer.
“With the same effects, and, as far as possible, with the same cast?”
“Yes.”
“And what are your particular effects, for instance, in ‘The Bells’ and ‘Louis XI.,’ say, as regard mounting and lighting?”
“Well, gentlemen,” answers Irving, laying aside his cigar and folding his arms, “I will explain. In the first place, in visiting America, I determined I would endeavor to do justice to myself, to the theatre, and to you. I was told I might come alone as a star, or I might come with a few members of my company, and that I would be sure to make money. That did not represent any part of my desire in visiting America. The pleasure of seeing the New World, the ambition to win its favor and its friendship, and to show it some of the work we do at the Lyceum,—these are my reasons for being here. I have, therefore, brought my company and my scenery. Miss Ellen Terry, one of the most perfect and charming actresses that ever graced the English stage, consented to share our fortunes in this great enterprise; so I bring you almost literally the Lyceum Theatre.”