Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1901-03-23
THE FIRST NIGHT.
The elimination of Anxieties About
the Success of New Play.

From the New York Press.
The first night of Il new play begins for
the auditor at 5 O'Clock in the evening;
for the actor at o'clock in the morning
of the day set for the first production. AT
about that hour he awakenS tagged from
the dress rehearsal of the previous night,
which has left him too exhausted for a re-
frgshing sleep. Breakfast proves to be a
farcicaI attempt at replenishing the inner
man. The chop has lost its appetizing fla
vor and the coffee its stimulating powers.
He finds himself repeating the words of
his part. mechanically striking attitudes
and moving about the room 10 assume the
positions decreed by stage business
Ten to one he discovers that he cam
not remember the dialogue of his most i'm
pOrtant scene and ne hurries to use the
manuscript. This brings him TO his senses
and he berates himself as d nervous idiot.
Time out of mind ne has performed the
same mental and physical antics inspired
by the intense strain of the nrst night or
deal He decides to walk it off. But
the words sing in his head. He reads his
lines on the bill boards, which seem to con-
tain nothing save posters heraiding the play
in which he is to appear. Might as well
have had a rehearsal" he mGtterS as he
retraces his steps to the Lambs or Players ,
the clubs frequented by the actors. There
every one. with the best intention, wishes
him success until the poor fellow feels
bowed down by the responsibility OF living
up to their expectations.
Arrived at his apartment an attempt to
divert his thoughts by attention to neg
iected correspondence proves OF no avail.
lie develops only a tendency to copy the
manuscript of his part. Luncheon offers
temporary relief, but, strange to say, boull-
lon and chop are equally tasteless. He
gulps the first as though it were draft OF
medicine but cannot overcome the feeling
OF nervous nausea, and leaves the chop
untouched. Here, get together, old man,
Is his mental command. Sleep he must
have.
But sleep comes not. Catching sight of
himself in a mirror, he realizes that he is
UrShaveu. He dareS not trust the razor TO
his trembling hand so is compelled to seek
q barber. This operation is speedily per-
formed in spite of his suggestion that
there is no hurry" About o'clock he
Is convinced that acting is not his matter,
and wishes that he had been q bricklayer.
A slice of dried toast and a cup of tea
constitute his dinner. after which a start is
made for the theater.
The hour consumed in makeup and dress
ing seems altogether too brief. Narrowing
thoughts throng his brain. He feels GER
tain that he has forgotten a tie, hat, 4
TaistcHdt or some other equally important
accessory to his stage attire. At S:1J o clock
or theTeabouts ne is in the wings awaiting
his cue, feverishly nOstening his lips, while
he mumbles his first speech.
His entrance made, his first word
spOkcn-the burden rolls away and the re-
nlainfer of the dialogue and business comes
I'm the main with pleasing certainty. Elev-
en- O'Clock finds him worn out, hoping for n
favorable verdict from the dramatic review
eTS. but really, at that moment, too eX-
hausted to be concerned in anything in life
except a refreshing glass Of beer and an IN
Nitiug pillow.