The manager, to whom I have already had the pleasure of introducing you, is Peter. I have been impatiently waiting for the moment of Peter's first theatre, these nine years. Like marbles or _Treasure Island_, it is at once a landmark and a milestone in the present-giving career of an uncle. So I had devoted some considerable care to its selection.
In one respect Peter's theatre reminds me of the old Court in the days of the VEDRENNE-BARKER repertory. You recall how one used to see the same people at every performance, a permanent nucleus of spectators that never varied? The difference is that Peter's permanent nucleus are neither so individually agreeable nor in any true sense enthusiasts of the drama. Indeed, being painted on the proscenium, with their backs to the stage, the effect they produce is one of studied indifference. Nay more, a horrible suspicion about them refused to be banished from my thoughts; it was based partly upon the costumes of the ladies, partly on the undeniably Teutonic suggestion in the gentlemen's uniforms. However, I said nothing about this to Peter.
Despite the presence of these unpleasing persons, the opening performance must be pronounced a real success. Perhaps more as a spectacle than anything else. Scenically the show was a triumph; the memory of the Forest Glade especially will remain with me for weeks by reason of the stiff neck I got from contorting myself under Peter's guidance to the proper angle for its appreciation. But histrionically it must be confessed that things dragged a little. Perhaps this was due to a certain severity, not to say baldness, in the dialogue as spoken. Not having read the script, I have a feeling that it might be unfair to judge the unknown author by the lines as rendered by Peter, who was often pre-occupied with other anxieties. As, for example, the scene in the Baronial Castle between its noble but unscrupulous proprietor and a character introduced by Peter with the simple notice: "This is a murderer coming on now."
_Bar._ Oh, well, you've got to murder the Princess.
Crisp, of course, and to the point; but I feel sure that there must have been more in the interview as originally written.
Perhaps, again, the cast was to blame for whatever may have been disappointing in the performance. Individually they were a fine company, passionate and wiry of gesture, and full of energy. Indeed their chief fault sprang from an incapacity to remain motionless in repose. This led to a notable lack of balance. However sensational it may be for the exit of every character to bring down the house, its effect is unfortunately to retard the action of the piece.