ng picks up a huge battle-axe and hatchet, and carefully plans the
details of his own murder. Having decided how to die, he thoughtfully
surveys the steps up which the frightened monks are supposed to rush.
"They won't do," says Mr. Irving. "They are too steep; there is no
hand-rail; and the monks will fall over and hurt themselves. Take off
four steps. It would be too dangerous if anyone fell down. Now, then,
_Salisbury_ and _Grim_, I enter, forced along by you. Catch hold of me,
and put your arms round me this way. That's it. No; I don't like those
steps."

[Illustration: A CRITICAL MOMENT.]

Mr. Irving again tries the steps personally, and decides what further
alterations are required. Then he addresses the monks, who stand by the
steps awaiting instructions. "This is a scene, gentlemen, which requires
the utmost carefulness and patience, and all the earnestness you can
throw into it. Now, gentlemen."

The crowd: "Here is the great Archbishop. He lives! he lives!"

"No, I wouldn't do it that way," says Mr. Irving. "'Here is the great
Archbishop.' You're surprised to see me, you know. Then pause. 'He
lives! he lives!' in a sort of whisper. Now, go back and chant the
service, and do it all over again."

[Illustration: MISS GENEVIEVE WARD AND MASTER BYRNE REHEARSING.]

The solemn strains of the organ are heard, as _Rosamond_ goes off,
the cue for the monks to enter being, "And pass at once perfect to
Paradise." But the organ is too loud; so is the chant. After several
attempts, the organ sounds more softly, the monks appear, and _Becket_
enters, hurried along by his friends. But the monks have not yet caught
the spirit of the scene. "You are frightened out of your lives. See,"
says Mr. Irving, and, in a second, he personates a frightened monk. The
next moment, with bewildering rapidity, he is the Archbishop again.
"'What do these people fear?' When I say, 'I will go out and meet them,'
you must murmur as if to stop me. I tell you, 'Why, these are our own
monks who follow'd us,' and you are reassured. Then I open the door,
with, 'Come in, my friends, come in.' Yes, that's it. Who leads the
monks as they come in? Mr. Belmore? Yes, that's right. You rush in,
followed by monks, crying out as if you were thoroughly frightened:

"'A score of knights all arm'd with swords and axes.'

"Then pause a moment, and shout, 'To the choir, to the choir.' Some of
you run half-way up the steps, then come down again as if you