“Mr. Irving next tries the three-cornered stools which are placed around the table, but prefers square ones. The dog returns, walks over to the orchestra, looks vainly for a rat, and retreats under the table in the centre of the stage as if things were getting really too much for him. But his resting-place is ill-chosen, for presently half-a-dozen angry lords jump on the table, and he is driven forth once more. After a stormy scene with the lords, Mr. Irving walks up the steps again. ‘When I say “I depart,” you must let me get up the steps. All this time your pent-up anger is waiting to burst out suddenly. Don’t go to sleep over it.’ He looks at the table in the centre of the stage, and turns to a carpenter. ‘This table will never do. It has to be jumped on by so many people that it must be very strong. They follow me.’ (To Miss Terry) ‘They’d better catch hold of me, up the steps here.’
“Miss Terry: ‘They must do something. They can’t stand holding you like that.’
“Mr. Irving: ‘No.’ The door opens suddenly at top of steps, and discovers the crowd, who shout, ‘Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.’
“The doors open and the crowd shout, but the effect is not good.
“Miss Terry: ‘It would be better if it were done at the foot of the steps. The people needn’t show their faces as they do it, and the effect will be so much better.’”
‘Becket’ contained thirty characters, and was set off by fine scenery and excellent music, written specially by Professor Stanford, this not being the first time his notes had been associated with the poet. Never have Irving’s efforts been greeted with such overpowering, tumultuous applause. At the end of every act there were as many as five “recalls.” In such pieces, as well as in some of Shakespeare’s, there is always a matter of interesting debate in fixing the era, dresses, architecture, etc.—a matter perhaps of less importance than is supposed. Irving’s conception of ‘Becket’ was truly picturesque and romantic; he imported a pathetic tone, with a sort of gloomy foreboding of the impending martyrdom, conveyed by innumerable touches. The actor has the art of moulding his features and expression to the complexion of the character he is performing nightly. Thus, in ‘Becket,’ it can be seen that he had already assumed the meditative, wary look of the aspiring ecclesiastic.
It is evidence of the interest excited by ‘Becket,’ that a little discussion arose between a Benedictine Father and another ecclesiastic on the hymn, “Telluris ingens Conditor,” which was played in the cathedral scene and through the piece. The Benedictine contended that it must have been some older form of the hymn before the pseudo-classicalization “of the Breviary Hymns in the sixteenth century.” “I do not suppose,” he added, “that Mr. Irving’s well-known attention to detail extends to such minutiæ as these. The famous cathedral scene, in his presentment of ‘Much Ado about Nothing,’ was received with a chorus of praise as a marvel of liturgical accuracy. But I am told that to Catholic eyes at least some of its details appeared incorrect.” Thus, to the monastery even, does the fame of our manager’s efforts reach!
One of the most remarkable things connected with ‘Becket’ was the unanimous applause and approbation of the entire press.[58] Even one or two evening papers, which had spoken with a little hesitation, returned to the subject a few nights later to correct their judgment and to admit that they had been hasty. All confessed that they had been captivated by the picturesqueness of the central figure.
Apart from his professional gifts, Irving is assuredly one of those figures which fill the public eye, and of which there are but few. This is owing to a sort of sympathetic attraction, and to an absence of affectation. He plays many parts in the social scheme, and always does so with judiciousness, contributing to the effect of the situation. His utterances on most subjects are thoughtful and well considered, and contribute to the enlightenment of the case. At his examination by the London County Council, when many absurd questions were put to him, he answered with much sagacity. His views on the employment of children in theatres are truly sensible. More remarkable, however, are his opinions on the science of acting, the art of management, and of dealing with audiences and other kindred topics, which show much thought and knowledge. He has, in truth, written a great deal, and his various “discourses,” recently collected in a pretty little volume, do credit to his literary style and power of expression.[59]
Here we must pause. We have seen what our actor has done, what a change he has worked in the condition of the stage: what an elegant education he has furnished during all these years. And though he has been associated with the revival of the stage, and a complete reform in all that concerns its adornment, it will be his greatest glory that he has presented Shakespeare on a grand scale, under the sumptuous and judicious conditions and methods that have made the poet acceptable to English audiences of our day.