It is not improbable (though my memory is not clear on the
point) that part of the strong interest we undoubtedly felt on the first
night arose from the hope that Lord Windermere's seemingly unaccountable
conduct might be satisfactorily accounted for. As this hope was futile,
there was no reason, at subsequent performances, to keep up the pretence
of preserving a secret which was probably known, as a matter of fact, to
most of the audience, and which was worthless when revealed.
In the second act of _The Devil's Disciple_, by Mr. Bernard Shaw, we
have an instance of wholly inartistic secrecy, which would certainly be
condemned in the work of any author who was not accepted in advance as a
law unto himself. Richard Dudgeon has been arrested by the British
soldiers, who mistake him for the Reverend Anthony Anderson. When
Anderson comes home, it takes a very long time for his silly wife,
Judith, to acquaint him with a situation that might have been explained
in three words; and when, at last, he does understand it, he calls for a
horse and his boots, and rushes off in mad haste, as though his one
desire were to escape from the British and leave Dudgeon to his fate.
Pages:
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423