“When I came home, I set to work to correct a copy of The Playboy according to the prompt copy I had just had sent on by the Company, in case the Mayor wanted it. A journalist came in who wanted to know about the cuts, and I got him to help me. Then Mr. Hamill came; he doesn’t think there will be trouble. Then I took up a lot of telephone addresses that had been left for me to call up, and found one was from ‘W. Dillon.’ It was a Mr. Dillon representing the enemy, who had been brought to see me on Tuesday. My interview with him had appeared in a very mangled form next day and I found only then that he was a brother of John Dillon, M.P., and the Corporation lawyer. I called him up, and he answered from the City Hall, and said he was writing a report on the legal aspect of the case for the Mayor, and wanted to know if I was sure certain words had been left out of the acting version, as I told him had always been done. I said yes, and I could now bring him the prompt copy. He assented and I went round to the City Hall. Mr. Dillon was sitting in his office, dictating to a shorthand writer. He said, ‘You may listen to what I am dictating, but you must treat it as confidential.’ I said, ‘I will go away if you wish,’ but he said, ‘No, I will trust to your honour as a lady.’ He was just finishing his statement, as printed in the papers this morning, denouncing the play but saying that, though in his opinion it might lead to a riot, he did not think the Mayor had power to stop it. I showed him the prompt copy. He asked if we could not strike out still more. I said the passages we had changed or left out had been changed in Mr. Synge’s lifetime and with his consent, and we did not feel justified in meddling any more. I think he expected me to make some concession, for he said then, ‘I think you would do much better to take the play off altogether.’ I said we were bound by contract to Liebler to put on whatever plays they asked for. He said, ‘Then it is not in your power to remove it?’ I answered, ‘No,’ and that ended the matter. I felt sorry for the moment, for it would have been gracious to make some small concession, but afterwards I thought of Parnell.... We may bring that play some other time, and there are many who think his betrayal a greater slur upon Ireland than would be even the real killing of a father.
“The Examiner announces that the Mayor won’t stop the play. He has said. ‘I do not see how the performance can be stopped. I have read part of it and its chief characteristic seems to be stupidity rather than immorality. I should think it would take more than a regiment of soldiers to compel an audience to fill the Grand Opera House to see such a poor production. I certainly shall not see it.’
“I hope I may get some breathing time. The idea of a day spent playing with little Richard seems an impossible heaven! And I feel a little lonely at times. It is a mercy this will be the last fight. I don’t think it is over yet.... I like to hear of the success of the school. It will be a great enjoyment sitting down to listen to a verse play again if I survive to do it!”
“Feb. 3rd. I dined with the McC——s, and went on to the Opera, Tristan und Isolde, which I had never seen. It was a great delight, a change from worries. I like the people here. They are more merry than those of the other cities somehow, at least those I have fallen amongst. They are vital. They don’t want to die till they see what Chicago is going to do.
“There is snow on the ground and yesterday when I went for a walk, the cold frightened me at first,—such pain in the face, but I went on and got used to it. The thermometer has been six below zero.”
“Feb. 8th. I seem to have been busy ever since. The first night of The Playboy was anxious. I was not really anxious the Anti-Cruelty night, and it went off quite peaceably, but I was last night, the open one, for, as I quoted from Image, ‘There are always contrary people in a crowd.’ But the play was acted in entire peace. I nearly fell asleep! It seems complete victory. The Corporation had to rescind their resolution against it, and I suppose the objectors found public opinion was too strong to permit any protest to be made. It is a great mercy. I did not know how great the strain was till it was over.
“On Monday we opened to a fairly large house with comedies and they were well received. The Hull House Players came and gave me a lovely bunch of roses. They have been acting some of my plays. When I got back to the hotel, I found a threatening letter written in vile language, and with picture of coffin and pistol, saying I would ‘never see the hills of Connemara again,’ and was about to meet with my death. It seems a miracle to have got through such a Wood of Dangers with flags flying.”
“Feb. 12th. Everything goes on so peaceably we are astonished. The Playboy finished its five days’ run on Saturday with never a boo or a hiss. I believe the enemy are making some excuse for themselves, saying they won’t riot because it was said they were paid to do so, but it is an extraordinary defeat for them. Quinn was much excited over it when he was here, and he did not know the extent of our victory. He thinks it the pricking of the bubble of all the societies that have been terrorising people. Fibs go on, of course, and a Mrs. F—— told me that her Irish maid said she had been forbidden to go to The Playboy because it runs down the courage of the Irish.’ She was sad, and said ‘The Irish always had courage.’
“It makes one think The Playboy more harmless even than one had thought, their having to make up these inventions. One is glad to put it on for them to see. I feel like Pegeen showing off Christy to the Widow Quinn, ‘See now is he roaring, romping?’ The author of ‘An Open Letter to Lady Gregory’ came to me at some Club to ask if I had seen it. I said yes, and that the paper had telephoned to know if I would answer it, but I had said no, and that I wished all my critics would write me open letters instead of personal ones, as I could leave them unanswered without discourtesy.