Evening star., 1901-01-08
AMUsEMENTS. A


has done more than any other writer Of
recent times to restore the stage to the poet
as his rightful domain. The performance
| Of 'LAiglon' last night was a literary
triumph, rejecting, as it did, first and al
ways, the genius Of the author, to which
the players and the scenery, eminent and
resplendent though they may be, are subor-
dinate.
When 1t was first made known that Sarah
Bernhardt interded to portray the youth
selected for the theme of this play somber
visions of Anna Dickinson's Hamlet f1oated
across the scene, followed by the wrath of
Sarahs own impersonation of the Danish
prince. And when 1T was announced that
the part was to be played by Maud Adams.
the heroine of gentle moods, whose tears
of pathos had never been so copious that
they could not soon be dried by the sun
shine of her owE smiling, there were fears
among her most devoted admirers. But
the part Of the frail sensitive Duke of
Reichstadt is one which no man could play.
and 1t is difficult 20 imagine how it could
be enacted with more touching beauty than
that which Miss Adams lends to it.
Rostand has done what an English
writer would not dare attempt. He has
placed himself shoulder to shoulder with
Shakespeare himself. In "Cyrano de Ber-
gerac' he out-Romeo's Romeo, and in
IL Aigion' he portrays the morbid intro
spection of a second Hamlet. The Duke Of
Reichstadt Is not character whose in
trinSic Importance would invite the pen of
dramatic poet. His individuality is that
of puny pathos, and the pity he evokes is
more tinged with contempt than affection.
1t is for this reason that the performance
Of the role by man of sufficient maturity
to comprehend it's significance would be
grotesque absurdty.
But while it is this childish character
who speaks, and whose struggles with body
and with soul the audience follows with
breathless interest, he is not the hero Of
the play. 1t is the spirit Of Napoleon him
self that dominates the story. With the art
which only genius could command, and
with the audacity of which only genius
would be capable, Rostand has conjured
him the dominant factor in his play. 1t
is the personality Of Napoleon struggling
for re-expression in his feeble offspring,
investing the most trivial article of his
apparel with an influence which constrains
an old soldier to come to attention and sa-
lutte that holds the attention of the au-
dience. There is an awe-inspiring sense
Of the supernatural about the work which
comes to climax of Sublimity in the act
representing the field of Wagram.
The silent battlefield presents a picture
which needs no speech to give it effective
ness. 1t has the interest and fascination
which attaches to a magnificent painting.
The purpose of the poet is for the time
conveyed by means of the eye alone.
1t is in this act that the psychic aspect
of the drama most impressively asserts
ltSGl1 lie ull Oh VOICES IlStllS lIOlH tllc
desoate field-the voices of Napoleon's old
sodiers-fillS the spectator with a sense of
awe closely akin to terror. In spite of his
faltering heart and frail physique, the
duke becomes invested with true majesty
when infused with the spirit of his an
cestor, whose greatness was such that it
left his critics no middle ground between
abject adulation and unqualified disgust.
The duke is himself a being Of utter incon-
sequence except as he represents the last
fading ecno of a voice whose reverberant
potency once shook the world.
'LAiglon'' differs from "Cyrano de Ber-
gerac" in that the diction is for the most
part direct and comparatively unpreten-
tious. 1t lacks the rhetorical embe!lish-
ment which gives the dialogue of Cyrano
such scintillant beauty. The poet seems to
have relied the sublimty of his ideas
and disdained the artifice of words In two
cases he takes up his favorite trick of re-
iteratng a phrase. after the fashion of
I'VE are the cadets Of Gascoigne,' and
dazzling the mind by the wealth of imagery
which he can force it to yield.
The performance of Miss Adams was be-
yond reproach. She revealed a fervor in
the decamatory passages which her deli
cate ply Sique seemed scarcely capable of
sustaining. Her Interpretation was one of
intellectual briliancy as well as emotional
strength and pathetic appeal. j. n. Gill
mour gave a fine performance of the part
of Flambeau. The remainder of the cast
was not exceptionally strong, as rule.
COLUMBIA THEATER.-Henry Miller
and a most capable company opened last
night at the Columbia in Madeleine Lucette
Ryley's new play, "Richard Savage A
representative Washington audience was
present and the verdict as to the play
was most fattering to author and actors.
1t was distinct hit all around. Mr.. Miller
received so many curtain calls that the
stage hand who works the halllards was
nearly worn out with his extra work. He
was caught for a speech in one of these
fai1, of the curtain to fall at the right
time and came forward and made some
very happy remarks which carried the iin-
preston of spontanety.
To every lover of English literature the
play must come as a pleasing inspira ton.
The author has certainly imbibed the at
mosphere of the period in which the drama
is cast, and has succeeded most admirably
in infuSng 1t into her play. Indeed, 1t is
as much the artistic harmonizng of event
and environment the actual plot that
pleases 1t is the time In the history of
English literature when genius had its
hardest battle for iife-a time when genius
was turning away with manly scorn from
the huniliating patronage OF the great
and was starving In Fleet street garrets
for It's temerty. 1t was the time before
the publisher had come to its relief, or,
rather before genius had turned to the
publisher instead of the rich patron; the
time which some what preceded and also
took in manly old DR.. Sam johnson, with ms
stern. poorly recompenSed ideas on moral
ity but whose letter to Chesterfield In the
prospectus OF his dictionary did more to
place literary men high in the estimation of
the men Of the time than any lines ever
written. 1t was the time, too. when the
drama was having something of the same
sort of struggle to gain foothold of re-
spectabilty in the English world. All this
has been delicately and artistically inter
woven into the play. There is as much of
this atmosphere as there Is of Richard
Savage in 1t.
The story is that which DR. johnson
quotes Savage as telling of himself, and
which the blunt old genius frankly declared
in his life of the poet that he did not be
lieve 1t is the hatred of a high-born
mother for an ilegitimate son. a rather
strained plot, perhaps. but what Is
really known of Savage quite justi-
fies that view of his very roman
tic life The two meetings between
the gifted son and the unnatural mother
furnish the material for the dramatic stu
ations The mother processes to believe
her child dead and that the Vagabond
poet who makes claim to her name and
affections is an impostor She is ready to
resort to anything which will thWart the
Young mans ambition or even to take his
life She prevents the publication of his
poems, brbes the manager OF Drury Lane
TO hinder the production of play and
finally lands him in Jail under sentence of
death for an alleged murder. There he
rNff eel p~{1 x1r,