e weging, thongn
it had a prelude when Apjohn and Aurora
sew Candida.“ The virus of that“ im¬
moral“ play has worked in them, and
Henry-Eugene proposes to Aurora-Can¬
dida that they should go to Mr. Bumpus,
tell him they love each other, and honor¬
ably leave his house hand-in-hand for a
new one of their own. But Aurora says
that her husband is not like that silly.
half-baked clergyman“ in Candida —
and she hates scandal. So she weeps a
little and appeals to Henry. And at last
the stricken youth promises to act
honorably like a gentleman and lie for
her through thick and thin. That, of
. B. S.“ all over, but there is
course, is
more. For Bumpus, that commercial¬
minded man, is a perverse person, whlo
will not swallow Apjohn's lies and loves
his wife to be admired. What! Cold
and indifferent to my wife!“ he exclaims
to the poet. You insolent puppy.“ So
the lover’s lying is all to no purpose, and
rumpus ensues. Bumpus, as Aurora
explains, is a handy name for poetic pur¬
Only
Poses; it rhymes with“ rumpus.
when Apjohn tells the truth can husband
and lover forgive each other and be re¬
conciled.
That is the plot. How is it treated, &c.!
What does it mean? Is the author mock¬
ing Candida, poking fun at his own
work? Those who think so, and accord¬
ingly rejeice in the signs of returning
Csanity“ in Mr. Shaw are, we think, re¬
joicing prematurely. Imagine dear, vir¬
tuous, Philistine Georgina endowed with
G.B.S.'s’ wit, imagine her condemning
Candida“ as immoral; imagine her en¬
gaging in polemics with the author. And,
1f she cast her retort into dramatic form,
Dere is her reply. So far Georgina—but
towards the end Mr. Shaw steps in
again; and with impish quip and
brankish paradox, freakish jest, aye, and
knaakahant faree, bringe-poor Georginal#
house of illusions about Her Gars. He
does it so funnily that in the fun some
may miss the moral—an inverted argu¬
ment in favor of“ Candida, and its truth,
and a delicious satire on the highly moral
code of honorable lying.
*
In quite another genre is In the Hos¬
pital,“ from the German of Arthur
Schnitzler, aterrible but memorable piece
of dramatic art. Gruesome it may be,
and its minute realism of detail may les¬
sen its artistic value, but the stabbing
truth of its characterisation, the poignant
mrisery of its theme, the clear-eyed vision
of human emotion it displays override its
minor defects, and render it unforget¬
able. One of God’s failures' is dying
in a Vienna hospital. His last thoughts
are of revenge—a mean and horrible re¬
venge—on tlie man who has passed him
in the race and treated him with con¬
temptuous good-humor ever since. How
he will humble Weihgast, the shallow,
smug Weihgast! And so he rehearses
the imaginary scene with his ward-com¬
panion, a facile, flabby histrion, full of
that “spes consumptiva“ which marks
his disease. The dying man hurls his
thunderbolt. For two years, Frau Weih¬
gast was his mistress! Then comes poet
Weihgast, and in face of death, Rada¬
macher holds his peace. The poet de¬
parts, oleaginous as ever. Why did you
not tell him?“ asks the actor. What
have you and I to do with those who
will be alive to-morrow?“ cries Rada¬
macher, slipping to death, while the
player shrinks against the wall in silent
Gruesome, terrible;
horror and fear.
but so vivid, and so true.

" In the Hospital“ is admirably acted
by Mr. Beveridge, Mr. Trollope, and Mr.
Rudge Harding, as the journalist, the
actor, and the poet respectively. Mr.
Beveridge’s work is quite a tour de force
—grim yet never repellent, and by many
silent touches exhorting sympathy for a
crooked soul. In Mr. Shaw's play Mr.
Granville Barker and Mr. Poulton reflect
the author’s spirit of reckless responsi¬
bility with a subdued gaiety that is very
effective. Miss Gertrude Kingston as
Aurora misses it. She is either too silly
or too clever. And Aurora was neither
very silly nor very clever. She was just
ethe smartest woman in the smartest set
17
in South Kensington.“ Mr. Yeats’s Pot
of Broth“ is the first item in this splen
did “triple bill.“
41, MARCH 1, 18
THE THEATRI
IA TRIPLE BILL AT TH.
OURT.
There is nothing cryptic about M.
Bernard Shaw's new play,“ Hor
He Lied to Her Husband,“ th
feature of the triple matinee bill a
the Court Theatre. All is straigh
and above board, and Mr. Shaw is i:
his merriest mood. He pokes fun
at his own Candida,“ and laughs at
hie pet youthful poet.“ Candida' as
a play is declared to be responsibie
for a serions flirtation between a mar¬
ried woman and a young poet. He
has written verses inwhich her name
appears, and these come into the
possession of the husband. Terrified
abthe risk of being found out, she
appeals to the poet to lie about thei
wholo affair.
But he plays the liar too well, de¬
clares to the husband that he dees
not even admire his wise, until thelf
indignation of the loval spouse knows
no bounds. That his wise, who ie
the'smartest woman in the smaltest
set in South Kensington'' should
not have attracied thie ’whipper¬
snapper' is intolerable. He stands
up for his wise'e 'smart' reputation
even to the point of fighting in the
cause, but ihe peet eventually owns
up. He is then begged by ihe de¬
lighted and flattered man to be al¬
lowed to print ihe verses for distri¬
bution amongst his friends.It
would be souice for us both,' says
the now happy wife, as the poor poet!
departs. Mr. Shaw is satirical and
humorous in his best manner, and
yesterday afternoon the audience
was västiy amused. Every one
should see Mr. Bernard Shaw in this
non-puzzling and refreshing mood.
The ihree players were all excel¬
lent—Mr. Granville Barker, tie
youthful and soulful poet; Mr. A.
G. Pouiton, the unimaginative hus¬
mand; and Miss Gertrude Kingston,
the vain and flippant wise.
The other novelty," In the Hospi¬
tal.“ a one-act play of A. Schnitzler,
trauslated by Mr. C. Horne, give
#us two cieverly contrasted characters
of an actor and a journalist in the
presence of death. Mr. G. Troliope!
and Mr. J. D. Beveridge realised to
the full the stery’s comewhat grue-2
some possibilities. Mr.
Teats' Irish play, The Pot of
Broth,“ completes the bill.