The San Francisco call., 1905-04-16


lobby to talk about it.
| 1T was play that was strongly
emotional 1t was nearly horrible.
One could use that much sIandered
adjective 'grewsome.' The end was
murder. the motive was sacrilegious
robbery, the man was a besotted
drunkard, the woman was his para
mour, the scene was the village OF
| Bon Hilaire in Louisiana. there were
but three characters in the play. In
spite of all Of which 1t was not morbid.
1t was not a cheap bid for theatrical
sensationalism. It was no ridiculous
rhodomontade of dime-novel realism.
1t was an artistic gem If the origin
Of every work Of art is an emotion.
then "A Light From st. Agnes can
claim its place.
1T was so capitally acted, so ex-
quisitely stage managed, its appeal
! was so dignified yet so overwhelming.
that-well, one couldn't help thinking
| that if Frank keenan, had been lucky
enough to secure this prize the Berke-
! ley Lyceum, now closed (requiescat In
paced, might have been turning EN-
| away, as the rude phrase goes
'It is impossible to do justice to this
| little play on paper. Things that you
| intuitively recognize 20 be great seem
| bald when reduced to diagram FORM
Yet it would be rank injustice to say
nothing Of the story of A Light From
ST. Agnes simply because one feared
| inadequate description.
"'Toinette and Michel lived In a hut
in the village of Bon Hilaire- They
were lovely and unlovely. He was wild
| and untrammeled and she was scarcely
less so. They lived near the Church
of st. Agnes She used to sleep on
bed in the middle of the room, because
light from st. Agnes shone upon her
and woke her in time to call Michel.
To 'Toinette came Father Bertrand to
tell her of the death of woman who
had tried to reform these lawless liv-
ers. She had left for 'Tofnette. as she
lay dying, crdcifixl 'Toinette's dark
and dismal nature was touched, but the
advent of Michel, her brutal accom-
plice, soon brought her back to reality.
I'm the church just opposite, and
from the window of the hut. he could
see the dead woman awaiting burial,
laid out in white cloth embroidered
with gold, and with a diamond cross
upon her breast. AS he sat there, be-
fuddled, his cupidity grew He piled
himself with drink. 'Toinette lay on
her lowly couch trying to sleep The
man was restive There was nothing
to indicate his intentions. But by Mrs.
Fiske's art you realized them.
He must possess that diamond cross
from the breast of the dead woman.
He would enter the church and steal
it. He would even throw dirt at the
face of the corpse. for he hated the re-
! former. But 'Toinette's dark nature
had been impressed. There was the
gift of the crucifix. Intense loathing Of
MicheI's contemplated crime seized her.
| She struggled with him. terrible
tragedy doomed. The little Louisiana
hut was for the moment grandiose with
stupendous conflict between the man
and the woman.
by a ruse she escapes and gives an
alarm that sends the bells ringing in
wild chime. Michel is trapped and he
knows 1t. He goes and brings back
the woman. He filings her upon the bed
and plunges his knife into her throat.
] Then he washes the blood from his
hands. Everything is silent. Every
thing is dark. He steals stealthily
away. Into the utter darkness creeps
the light from ST. Agnes. Its rays fall
upon the body of 'Toinette and 1t is
irradiated. Upon this picture the cur
| tain falls.
Horrible, you say? No. There is
not one needlessly horrible moment.
There is not one hysterical, neuras-
thenic moment. 1t is the very sanity Of
sensation. 1t is absolutely and COM
pellingly artistic. The emotions are
laid bare. In long silence much Of the
| action is acted. 1t Is tense and
| teeming. 1t reduced hard-shell audi
| ence to the consistency of a soft shell
clam.
IF Mrs. Fiske had never done any
| thing more than this one-act play she
would be Immediately recognized as
unusual Oddly enough, 1t appears that
! Theater two performances OF this beau
tiful little play were given. Where were
we all? 1 never saw il, never heard OF
1t. and I'm glad OF 1T. as the pleasure OF
yesterday would have been denied me.
And it was a pleasure. There is no
JOY keener than that given by a fine
play, perfectly acted, admirably pre-
sented.
John Mason. william b. Mack and
Fernando Eliscu sent A Light from St.
Agnes into history. The three were
uncriticizably excellent. Miss Eliscu.
an ambitious young woman, who hurl-
! ed herself tempestuously at the stage a
| few years ago. has toned down. She