The Wieked Abbe at the Lyceum.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6833, 22 April 1890, Page 3

The Wicked Abbe at the Lyceum.

• A CHAT? WITH ME BANCEOFT OS \ HIS BETUEN TO THE STAGE. Happening to meet Mr Bancroft yester 3 day (writes a correspondent) ai the Gatriol 3 Club, I asked him when he was first strucl „ with the idea of returning to the BtagOy a " Well," replied the " Squire," "in thi f £*at place, I never intended retiring f con • the Btage, and the idea that I had done so s which seems to have gained ground, i Qs entirely erroneous. When I gave up th a- management of the Hiaymarket Theatre a Mrs Bancroft and myself both inferren that we might occasioually keep, in tone; c with the public, whose regard must alwa; >c remain precious to. the actor.** n> " You had a great reception on Saturda le night. Did you expect to be so warml .n received?" '<It would be mook modest h- to deny that I hoped far a cordial gree 1 in gi" replied Mi? Bancroft to my questioi (filing hia eyeglaaa meditatively, "buttt

applause far exceeded anything I had looked for." "Perhapß that tended to add to yon* natural nervonßneas ?". "It did, very much, and on the top of a severe cold may at firat have affected my voice. In addition to which, only five minutes before appearing on the stage, I had undergone a severe injection of cocaine up the nostrils." "It eeema to be," I said, "that your part— that of the Abbs' Latour—has been much over-rated ?" " I agree with you. The character is a part of one scene and opportunity of the greatest importance. For the reat it seems to me to consist of shadows, more or leas, and difficult to grasp." "Prom the class of character yon were familiar to me in, a stage fight and death are altogether new to you ?" "It waa simply," rejoined Mr Bancroft, "renewing acquaintance with a form of one's work that had slumbered for a number of years. With regard to the fight, Mr Irving, as you know, is an accomplished ! swordsman ; while I, under the guidance of M. Bertrand, rubbed up my old knowledge of fencing." " A point struck me," I said, " during the performance of The Dead Heart on Saturday night. The different circumstances under which you are now appearing —not having the great personal stake and onus {of management on your shoulders — must have made your task far lighter ? " "A difficult question; and one not easy to answer, for the stake is still a very heavy one. la the old days of manage* ment.'my errors fell solely on my own head, while now they might injure others. My old friend, Mr Irving, thought I might be of some assistance to him in playing the part ; and I should be sarry indeed to prove bo good a judge a victim of misplaced confidence ; for only the success of the play, and of everyone concerned in it, could repay him for the unwearied pains, never-failing temper, and ceaseless energy bestowed for months upon such a vast I r oduction."