Life and Letters of Robert Browning [46]
noonday, --
that to allow at Macready's Theatre any other than Macready
to play the principal part in a new piece was suicidal, -- and really believed
I was meeting his exigencies by accepting the substitution.
At the rehearsal, Macready announced that Mr. Phelps was ill,
and that he himself would read the part: on the third rehearsal,
Mr. Phelps appeared for the first time, and sat in a chair
while Macready more than read, rehearsed the part. The next morning
Mr. Phelps waylaid me at the stage-door to say, with much emotion,
that it never was intended that HE should be instrumental
in the success of a new tragedy, and that Macready would play Tresham
on the ground that himself, Phelps, was unable to do so.
He added that he could not expect me to waive such an advantage, --
but that, if I were prepared to waive it, `he would take ether,
sit up all night, and have the words in his memory by next day.'
I bade him follow me to the green-room, and hear what I decided upon --
which was that as Macready had given him the part, he should keep it:
this was on a Thursday; he rehearsed on Friday and Saturday, --
the play being acted the same evening, -- OF THE FIFTH DAY AFTER
THE `READING' BY MACREADY. Macready at once wished to reduce
the importance of the `play', -- as he styled it in the bills, --
tried to leave out so much of the text, that I baffled him
by getting it printed in four-and-twenty hours, by Moxon's assistance.
He wanted me to call it `The Sister'! -- and I have before me, while I write,
the stage-acting copy, with two lines of his own insertion
to avoid the tragical ending -- Tresham was to announce his intention
of going into a monastery! all this, to keep up the belief that Macready,
and Macready alone, could produce a veritable `tragedy', unproduced before.
Not a shilling was spent on scenery or dresses -- and a striking scene
which had been used for the `Patrician's Daughter', did duty a second time.
If your critic considers this treatment of the play an instance of
`the failure of powerful and experienced actors' to ensure its success, --
I can only say that my own opinion was shown by at once breaking off
a friendship of many years -- a friendship which had a right
to be plainly and simply told that the play I had contributed
as a proof of it, would through a change of circumstances,
no longer be to my friend's advantage, -- all I could possibly care for.
Only recently, when by the publication of Macready's journals
the extent of his pecuniary embarrassments at that time was made known,
could I in a measure understand his motives for such conduct -- and less
than ever understand why he so strangely disguised and disfigured them.
If `applause' means success, the play thus maimed and maltreated
was successful enough: it `made way' for Macready's own Benefit,
and the Theatre closed a fortnight after.
Having kept silence for all these years, in spite of repeated explanations,
in the style of your critic's, that the play `failed in spite of
the best endeavours' &c. I hardly wish to revive a very painful matter:
on the other hand, -- as I have said; my play subsists,
and is as open to praise or blame as it was forty-one years ago:
is it necessary to search out what somebody or other, -- not improbably
a jealous adherent of Macready, `the only organizer of theatrical victories',
chose to say on the subject? If the characters are `abhorrent'
and `inscrutable' -- and the language conformable, -- they were so
when Dickens pronounced upon them, and will be so whenever the critic
pleases to re-consider them -- which, if he ever has an opportunity of doing,
apart from the printed copy, I can assure you is through no motion of mine.
This particular experience was sufficient: but the Play
is out of my power now; though amateurs and actors may do what they please.
Of course, this being the true story, I should desire
that it were told THUS and no otherwise, if it must be told at all:
but NOT as a statement of mine, -- the substance of it
has been partly
that to allow at Macready's Theatre any other than Macready
to play the principal part in a new piece was suicidal, -- and really believed
I was meeting his exigencies by accepting the substitution.
At the rehearsal, Macready announced that Mr. Phelps was ill,
and that he himself would read the part: on the third rehearsal,
Mr. Phelps appeared for the first time, and sat in a chair
while Macready more than read, rehearsed the part. The next morning
Mr. Phelps waylaid me at the stage-door to say, with much emotion,
that it never was intended that HE should be instrumental
in the success of a new tragedy, and that Macready would play Tresham
on the ground that himself, Phelps, was unable to do so.
He added that he could not expect me to waive such an advantage, --
but that, if I were prepared to waive it, `he would take ether,
sit up all night, and have the words in his memory by next day.'
I bade him follow me to the green-room, and hear what I decided upon --
which was that as Macready had given him the part, he should keep it:
this was on a Thursday; he rehearsed on Friday and Saturday, --
the play being acted the same evening, -- OF THE FIFTH DAY AFTER
THE `READING' BY MACREADY. Macready at once wished to reduce
the importance of the `play', -- as he styled it in the bills, --
tried to leave out so much of the text, that I baffled him
by getting it printed in four-and-twenty hours, by Moxon's assistance.
He wanted me to call it `The Sister'! -- and I have before me, while I write,
the stage-acting copy, with two lines of his own insertion
to avoid the tragical ending -- Tresham was to announce his intention
of going into a monastery! all this, to keep up the belief that Macready,
and Macready alone, could produce a veritable `tragedy', unproduced before.
Not a shilling was spent on scenery or dresses -- and a striking scene
which had been used for the `Patrician's Daughter', did duty a second time.
If your critic considers this treatment of the play an instance of
`the failure of powerful and experienced actors' to ensure its success, --
I can only say that my own opinion was shown by at once breaking off
a friendship of many years -- a friendship which had a right
to be plainly and simply told that the play I had contributed
as a proof of it, would through a change of circumstances,
no longer be to my friend's advantage, -- all I could possibly care for.
Only recently, when by the publication of Macready's journals
the extent of his pecuniary embarrassments at that time was made known,
could I in a measure understand his motives for such conduct -- and less
than ever understand why he so strangely disguised and disfigured them.
If `applause' means success, the play thus maimed and maltreated
was successful enough: it `made way' for Macready's own Benefit,
and the Theatre closed a fortnight after.
Having kept silence for all these years, in spite of repeated explanations,
in the style of your critic's, that the play `failed in spite of
the best endeavours' &c. I hardly wish to revive a very painful matter:
on the other hand, -- as I have said; my play subsists,
and is as open to praise or blame as it was forty-one years ago:
is it necessary to search out what somebody or other, -- not improbably
a jealous adherent of Macready, `the only organizer of theatrical victories',
chose to say on the subject? If the characters are `abhorrent'
and `inscrutable' -- and the language conformable, -- they were so
when Dickens pronounced upon them, and will be so whenever the critic
pleases to re-consider them -- which, if he ever has an opportunity of doing,
apart from the printed copy, I can assure you is through no motion of mine.
This particular experience was sufficient: but the Play
is out of my power now; though amateurs and actors may do what they please.
Of course, this being the true story, I should desire
that it were told THUS and no otherwise, if it must be told at all:
but NOT as a statement of mine, -- the substance of it
has been partly