It is now more than four years since “The Profligate” was written, and in the interval we have seen many conflicting influences at work upon the theatre, many signs of progress; but in June 1887, although the dramatic atmosphere was full of agitation and uncertainty, and the clamorous plaints of the pessimists were loud, the bolt of Norwegian naturalism had not yet fallen upon our stage, Ibsen was still, as far as England was concerned, an exotic of the library. Mr. Pinero, however, appears to have been an unswerving optimist in the face of spreading pessimism; he evidently felt that the air was clearing, that the period was approaching when the British dramatist might begin to assert his artistic independence, and at least attempt to write plays which should, by means of simple and reasonable dramatic deduction, record actual experience flowing in the natural irregular rhythm of life, which should at the same time embody lofty ideals of conduct and of character. So he wrote “The Profligate,” wrote it as he explained, to fit no particular theatrical company, fettered the free development of his ideas by no exigencies of managerial expediency. As soon as the play was completed he sought the opinion of one whose attitude towards the drama has Two years elapsed, during which period the battle of the isms had proceeded apace, realism clashing with conventionalism, naturalism with romanticism. And the time now seemed ripe to gauge the practical progress of the modern dramatic movement, as we may call it, to test how far theatrical audiences were really prepared to accept serious drama without “comic relief.” The opportunity was at hand, the new Garrick Theatre was completed, and Mr. John Hare produced “The Profligate.” It must be admitted, however, that in doing this a question of managerial policy prompted a concession to popular taste or custom which Mr. Pinero had never anticipated in the composition of “The Profligate.” He had ended his play with the suicide of the penitent profligate at the very moment that the wife is coming to him with pity and forgiveness in her heart, resolved to share his life again, to bear with him the burden of his past as well as his future—a grimly ironical trick of fate which the author considered to be the legitimate and logical conclusion of this domestic tragedy. But authors propose, and the “gods” dispose. Mr. Hare, as he frankly admitted in a letter to the papers, Now, therefore, that it has become feasible to place “The Profligate” in the hands of the reader, the author’s intention is adhered to, and the play appears in its original form. As a matter of record, however, and for the benefit of those readers who may possibly be interested in comparing the two versions, I think it advisable to append below that portion of the acted text which differs from the play as it is now published, especially since the matter has excited some critical discussion. The Fourth Act, as generally performed, is entitled “On the Threshold,” and the departure from the original occurs on p. 122, when Dunstan Renshaw is about to drink the poison. From that point it runs thus:— Dunstan. [He is raising the glass to his lips when he recoils with a cry of horror.] Ah! stop, stop! This is the deepest sin of all my life—blacker than that sin for which I suffer! No, I’ll not! I’ll not! [He dashes the glass to the ground.] God, take my wretched life when You will, but till You lay Your hand upon me, I will live on! [He falls on his knees, and buries his face in his hands. Leslie enters softly, carrying a lamp which she places on the sideboard; she then goes to Dunstan. Leslie. Dunstan! Dunstan! Dunstan. [Looking wildly at her.] You! You! Leslie. I have remembered. When we stood together at our prayerless marriage, my heart made promises my lips were not allowed to utter. I will not part from you, Dunstan. Dunstan. Not—part—from me? Leslie. No. Dunstan. I don’t understand you. You—will—not—relent? You cannot forget what I am! Leslie. No. But the burden of the sin you have committed I will bear upon my shoulders, and the little good that is in me shall enter into your heart. We will start life anew—always seeking for the best that we can do, always trying to repair the worst that we have done. [Stretching out her hand to him.] Dunstan! [He approaches her as in a dream.] Don’t fear me! I will be your wife, not your judge. Let us from this moment begin the new life you spoke of. Dunstan. [He tremblingly touches her hand as she bursts into tears.] Wife! Ah, God bless you! God bless you, and forgive me! [He kneels at her side, she bows her head down to his. Leslie. Oh, my husband! This ending found many advocates, even Mr. Clement Scott and Mr. William Archer, who may be regarded as representing the opposite poles of dramatic criticism, agreeing in their decision that this was the only logical conclusion. “There can be but one end to such a play,” wrote Mr. Scott, “and Mr. Pinero has chosen the right one. To make this wretched man whose sin has found him out a wanderer and an outcast is bad enough; to make him a suicide would be worse.” Yet there were others who thought differently. Wednesday, the 24th of April, 1889, saw the opening of the Garrick Theatre and the production of “The Profligate,” the programme of which occasion is here appended. Programme. OPENING OF THE GARRICK THEATRE. THIS EVENING, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 24th, 1889. BY
“It is a good and soothfast saw; Half-roasted never will be raw; No dough is dried once more to meal, No crock new-shapen by the wheel; You can’t turn curds to milk again, Nor Now, by wishing, back to Then; And having tasted stolen honey, You can’t buy innocence for money.” ACT I. “THIS MAN AND THIS WOMAN.” London; Furnival’s Inn; ACT II. THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. Florence; On the Road to Fiesole; The Loggia of the Villa Colobiano. ACT III. THE END OF THE HONEYMOON. The same place. ACT IV. ON THE THRESHOLD. London; The Old White Hart Hotel, Holborn; TIME—THE PRESENT DAY. The Incidental Song with Guitar Accompaniment, sung by Mr. Avon Saxon, has been kindly composed by THE NEW SCENERY PAINTED BY MR. HARFORD. Probably few who were present on this occasion will need to be reminded of the impression made upon the audience by the new play, or of the plaudits with which it was greeted. The success that attended the initial representation was echoed for the most part in the chorus of criticism. On all sides the new play was greeted with warm words of welcome, even when these words were qualified by serious critical strictures; the pessimists regarded it at least as an oasis in the desert of our modern drama, while the optimists hailed it as the herald of a bright new era of English dramatic literature. The various voices of criticism were, in fact, unanimous for once in regarding this as an artistic event of quite unusual importance, even while they were raised to question certain psychological and ethical elements of the play in relation to actual human experience. It does not come within my province here to discuss the several points of controversy, the various critical objections urged against the play, but merely to recall them as a matter of theatrical history. So be it remembered that the central motive of the story was condemned as being fantastically strained, for the simple reason that at this end of the nineteenth century the mental condition of Leslie Brudenell was inconceivable, the position therefore being untenable from the point of view of real life. It was further urged that any right-minded young wife would have submissively accepted the situation in the true wisdom of modern cynicism, or that Dunstan Renshaw would have turned round upon her and with brutal frankness revealed to her that her disillusioning was only the common experience of all wives, and that she must bow to the inevitable and make no fuss. It was Those who made all these discoveries charged “The Profligate” on this score or that with being untrue to nature or false to art. Yet Mr. Pinero, in essaying to deal dramatically with a moral problem in a manner which, while neither cynical nor commonplace, should still be in touch with human sympathy and possible experience, appears to have deliberately set himself to conceive a group of characters, natural yet not ordinary, which should embody his ideals, and with a sufficient sense of actuality evolve the tragic recoil of sin, the dramatic pathos of innocence in contact with the irony of life, the exquisite influence of purity. Whether Mr. Pinero succeeded in carrying out his idea or not, even the severest of his critics could not deny this play respectful consideration. “A real play at last,” cried one; “a faulty play with one faultless act,” was another’s summing-up after his first enthusiasm had cooled in the refrigerator of time; while yet a third recorded that “no original English play “The Profligate” was performed eighty-six consecutive times at the Garrick Theatre with considerable success, and, as I believe some impression to the contrary prevails, I may be pardoned for adding, with results very satisfactory to Mr. Hare’s treasury. The season coming to an end on July 27, the Garrick closed, and Mr. Hare took “The Profligate” on a brief provincial tour. At the Prince of Wales’s Theatre, Birmingham, on September 2, it was received with extraordinary enthusiasm, the local critics poured forth eulogy upon eulogy, and for the next five nights the house was crammed. From Birmingham the play went to Manchester, where it was produced at the Theatre Royal, on September 9, and performed there nine times. But the Manchester critics, though respectful in their attitude, were sparing in their praise. They complained that Mr. Pinero was neither Dumas nor Augior, compared him with Georges Ohnet, and found fault with his metaphors. And the playgoers of Cottonopolis were depressed, and bestowed such scant favour upon the play that Mr. Hare determined to occupy the last three nights of his engagement with a mirthful adaptation of “Les Surprises du Divorce,” and the Manchester folk then attended the theatre in their numbers, and laughed, and were happy again. A triumph, however, was in store for “The Profligate” at Liverpool. On September 23, and during the rest of the week, it was given at the Shakespeare Theatre, and press But although “The Profligate” had been withdrawn from the boards of the theatre, its influence was still active. It commanded a hearing beyond the footlights, even on the platform of the Literary and Scientific Institute. Mr. Pinero was invited by the committee of the Birkbeck Institution to read his play there, and this he did on the evening of May 16th, 1890, with such marked success that he has since been invited to repeat the reading at many of the leading institutions in the provinces. But the theatrical career of “The Profligate” was to take a wider range. The voice of the British dramatist was to be heard in the land of the foreigner; but it spoke in the necessarily mimetic tones of adaptation, and the tongue was Dutch. “The Profligate,” bearing the title of “De Losbol,” was produced in Amsterdam on November “The Profligate” is next heard of in Germany, where “The Magistrate” and “Sweet Lavender” already enjoyed popularity; but there the voice of the author was almost lost in the falsetto tones of the adapter. Dr. Oscar Blumenthal, a well-known German littÉrateur and the popular director of the Lessing Theatre in Berlin, undertook to introduce Mr. Pinero’s play to German playgoers. But Dr. Blumenthal has won reputation as a wit and a humorist, and any work from his pen must make his audience laugh before everything; so he appears to have adopted very drastic measures in preparing “The Profligate” for the German theatre. He has in fact transformed a serious drama of English life into a frivolous comedy of Parisian manners; innocence is turned into intrigue, the betrayed maiden becomes the scheming adventuress, The first performance took place on Friday, February 13, of the present year, at the Stadttheater, Hamburg, and a perfect triumph was achieved, adapter and actors were called before the curtain no less than twenty times, and the press unanimously belauded the “author”—Dr. Blumenthal. Performances then followed with equal success at Altona, Stettin, Graz, MÜnchen, Dresden, Hildesheim, and LÜbeck, and on Saturday, August 29, 1891, “Falsche Heilige” was produced in the German capital at Dr. Blumenthal’s own Lessing Theatre. The reception by Berlin playgoers and critics was as enthusiastic as it had been elsewhere, and the glory of the adapter was everywhere. And this is to spread still further, for the play is to visit all the other important theatrical towns of Germany. This summarises so far the Continental career of “The Profligate,” but in all probability it will penetrate much further. As a modern instance of the vagaries of adaptation, the following German criticism of “The Profligate” in its Teutonic dress may be found amusing, in connection with the English text of the play:— “The German author may be indebted to the English original of ‘Falsche Heilige’ for the plan of the piece, and the material for the several acts, but in the entire modelling, in its general character, and in all its merits, it is the play of Blumenthal. It is insinuating and amusing, persuading by fluent, elegant, refined diction, and especially by the sparkling firework witticisms of Blumenthal, which rise like rockets in every scene, while The Australian career of “The Profligate” has been both experimental and successful. Mr. Charles Cartwright and Miss Olga Nethersole produced the play at the Bijou Theatre in Melbourne on Tuesday, June 9, of the present year, and for the first time it was acted in the original version, as now printed. The play ended with Dunstan Renshaw’s suicide, a dÉnouement which the Melbourne critics accepted as “more powerfully dramatic” than the reconciliation, but the impression produced upon the public was considered too painful, and on the following Thursday evening the ending of the Garrick version was substituted for the original, and Malcolm C. Salaman. London, November 1891. The Profligate Dunstan Renshaw & Lord Dangars have been wild, and Dunstan is to marry Leslie Brudenell, an innocent school girl. Knowing what Dunstan’s past has been Hugh Murray won’t come to the wedding. Janet Preece, a girl ruined & deserted by Dunstan enters & Murray says he will help find her wronger. Dunstan returned & in love with Leslie, go to Italy for their honeymoon. The Michael Angelo sketches at their villa draw tourists, among whom are Mrs Stonehay & her daughter, Irene, engaged to Lord Dangars, and a school friend of Leslie. Leslie tries to prevent the match. Dunstan goes to Rome for furnishings & meets Lord Dangars. In the meantime Janet Preece comes to the villa, weak & weary. She confesses she has been ruined & can not marry Wilfred, Leslie’s brother. Leslie persuades her to tell Mrs. Stonehay how Lord Dangars ruined her. Thinking he was the one but when the indictment comes to Leslie’s horror Dunstan is found guilty. She sends him away. Janet Preece goes for Australia, & leaves Wilfred, Hugh Murray tries to look after Leslie, and Dunstan returns to her. Thinking she will spurn him he takes poison. Leslie comes to him, forgiving calling “Husband!” THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY Wilfrid Brudenell Leslie, his sister Dunstan Renshaw Janet Preece Mr. Cheal Hugh Murray Mr. Ephgraves Lord Dangars Mrs. Stonehay Irene, her daughter Weaver Priscilla THE FIRST ACT “THIS MAN AND THIS WOMAN” THE SECOND ACT THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES THE THIRD ACT THE END OF THE HONEYMOON THE FOURTH ACT THE BEGINNING OF A NEW LIFE THE PROFLIGATE |