“New Brighton, Staten Island,
“February 23, 1917.

“Dear David:—

“My work on your ‘Life,’ leading me into considerate examination of what you have done and not done, the scope of your experience, the difference between conditions, past and present, has, incidentally, turned my mind toward the future and what you might do, and I venture to make a suggestion, which I hope you will not deem intrusive. It would be a great thing for our Stage, and I think for you, if you were to make a splendid production of a Shakespeare play—and I believe that you could, with profit, bring out ‘King Henry IV.’ It has not been acted in New York since 1896, and then only for a few nights and in a very inefficient way.[8] It had not been acted previous to that for fifteen or twenty years. ‘On the road’ it is, practically, as little known. The Second Part has not been acted in our city (except two or three performances at the Century [Theatre], by amateurs, signifying nothing) for more than half-a-century. A production of the First Part might be made; or, Daly’s original scheme of combining the two parts might be fulfilled,—though I believe the former would be much the better venture.

“If the idea pleases you, I should be most happy to talk with you about it, in detail; to make suggestions, and to assist in any possible way. I hope you will consider this matter with care. If you do not bring out the play, before long somebody else will—and, if with proper care, gain reputation and money by it.

“I have been very sick, but am improving and the work goes on—though much slower than I would have it do. I hope to see you before long.

“With kind regards,
“Faithfully yours,
“William Winter.”

“Belasco Theatre, New York,
“March 2, 1917.

“My dear Mr. Winter:—

“I received your letter and regret very much that you were so ill. I am glad, indeed, to learn that you are better. I think the weather is very depressing and debilitating.

“I have long wanted to do a Shakespearean play, and your suggestion gives me an idea. I think that ‘King Henry IV.,’ if well done and produced with simple dignity, would be most timely. Thank you very much for your suggestion.

“As soon as this hateful season is over (the spring season is always so hard on me—engaging actors, getting manuscripts together, etc.) do let me come over and talk over ‘King Henry IV.’: meanwhile, I must read it again, as parts of it are very faint in my memory. I do not believe in combining the two parts. I had thought of ‘Julius CÆsar,’ which I consider the greatest play in the world; but it is so well known that it invites comparison. It is much better to produce a Shakespearean play but little seen....

“With many thanks, all good wishes—and looking forward to seeing you and talking over a Shakespearean production, I am,

“Faithfully yours,
“David Belasco.”

“New Brighton, Staten Island,
“March 8, 1917.

“Dear David:—

“Your letter of March 2 has reached me.

“I was glad to hear from you, and I thank you for your kind wishes. I improve but slowly: still—I improve.

“The work goes on—but not well. It goes slowly. But still—it goes. I do not remember ever experiencing so much difficulty in putting biographical matter in order....

“As soon as the weather settles, and the pressure of your business will permit, I shall be glad to have you come to see me here. We can then resume talks about your adventures; and we can confer about ‘King Henry IV.’ The more I have reflected on the subject the more I feel that you would do well to revive that play. It requires editing, of course,—but it is a superb work. Besides Falstaff, King Henry the Fourth, Prince Henry and Hotspur are all splendid characters (I prefer the Prince to Hotspur: actors usually do not), and several of the others are almost as good.

“The plan of combining the two Parts has some merits: but (in my judgment) to produce the First Part is the ‘eftest scheme.’ We will talk of it when you come....

“Faithfully yours,
“William Winter.”

“46 Winter Avenue, New Brighton,
“Staten Island, New York,
“May 18, 1917.

“My dear David:—

“In the course of my work on the ‘Life’ I have had occasion to examine and consider several forms of censure and disparagement which, first and last, have been a good deal circulated about you. One of these is the statement (which I, personally, have heard made by some who ought to have known better) that you have not ‘produced Shakespeare’ because you have been afraid the public would then ‘find you out.’ This has led me to make a very careful study of the subject and an exposition of the quality of your early experience and training as bearing upon competency to produce and direct Shakespeare in revivals. This, in turn, has kept the suggestion I ventured to make to you, some time ago, about ‘King Henry IV.,’ much in my mind. And turning over that subject and looking at it from many points, I have formulated a plan, fulfilment of which would give you an absolutely unique position among producers of Shakespeare, and I venture to lay it before you, in the hope that perhaps it may be of use, and that, at least, you will not think me presumptuous.

“It is as follows:

“‘King Henry IV.,’ both parts, is a sequel to ‘King Richard II.’ The latter is one of the most eloquent and beautiful of all Shakespeare’s plays. All three of the plays named could well and conveniently be acted by the same company. The actual expense of putting on all three of them would not be much more than that of putting on one. You could make an IMMENSE impression by bringing out those three plays as a ‘Shakespeare Trilogy.’ Thus:

“Mondays and Thursdays; ‘King Richard II.’

“Tuesdays and Fridays; ‘King Henry IV., Part One.’

“Wednesdays and Saturdays; ‘King Henry IV., Part Two.’

“Thus, every week, you could give two full ‘cycles’ of the trilogy; and, on matinÉe days, the ‘First Part of King Henry IV.,’ or a modern play.

“In presenting such a thing you would undertake and accomplish a more distinctive, original, and impressive managerial enterprise than any single venture of any of the representative Shakespearean producers,—Garrick, Kemble, Macready, Phelps, Kean, Booth, Irving, Daly, or Beerbohm-Tree.

“I feel confident that, in a business way, it could be made profitable. If you got through even at cost, or at a small loss, it would (in my view) be, in a business way (wholly aside from the immense and incontestable service to art and the public), a profitable investment. And I am sure it would ‘make money,’ too.

“I would do anything and everything in my power to help so fine a scheme,—would arrange the plays, write notes, etc., etc., if you should desire it.

“Please do not think me intrusive with my suggestions. And please give this very careful consideration.

“It would be a special satisfaction to me to see you crown your career with such a wonderful, such an unparalleled, accomplishment. However much honest difference of opinion there may be regarding some of the productions you have made (as you know, you and I are hopelessly at variance about some of the plays you have brought out), there could be no room for cavil or honest censure of such a venture as the production of three of Shakespeare’s greatest plays, which, practically speaking, are unknown, are new, to the American Stage, and which are peculiarly well suited to your purposes and treatment. And it would be all the more splendid that such production should not be made at the high-tide of general theatrical prosperity, but should be made when the whole world seems shattered, and the rest of theatrical managers are running about like ants that have been disturbed in their hill!

“Faithfully yours,
“William Winter.”

“New York, May 19, 1917.

“Dear William Winter, I [have] just read your letter. You are right, and I promise you and myself to do the plays as you suggest, counting upon your generous assistance, without which I could not do them. I shall come over as soon as I possibly can, to speak further of this. Thank you for your enthusiasm and your faith. God bless you!

“David Belasco.”