ully recovered, however, he comes down to
rehearsal with Mr. Loveday, who is, happily, convalescent. Miss Terry
and Mr. Terriss spare him all they can, the latter's Jove-like voice
thundering over the stage when Mr. Irving wishes to convey commands
to distant groups. But it is evident that Mr. Irving will not be
restrained. After the rehearsal begins, the force of habit causes him to
be here, there, and everywhere with unabated energy, as the grouping in
the third scene of the first act is very difficult. The following rough
diagram will give some idea of the stage:

[Illustration]

This scene is laid in Northampton Castle. Some fifty people are on the
stage, bishops, Templars, knights, and John of Oxford, President of the
Council. Mr. Irving runs his eye over the different groups. "Put one man
on the steps. Now, a group by the throne. The barons sit round the
table, and the rest of you occupy the benches."

As the groups arrange themselves in obedience to Mr. Irving's
directions, his somewhat elderly fox-terrier moves slowly "on," and
superciliously surveys the general effect. As the barons give vent to
angry murmurs, the dog howls. Sometimes, when Mr. Irving walks up the
steps after bidding defiance to the barons, the dog follows stiffly
after him to lend the weight of his moral support. Satisfied that all is
well, the dog returns to Miss Terry, and goes to sleep on her dress. Now
and then he wakes up, stretches himself, and evinces the most profound
contempt for John of Oxford's speech by yawning in the orator's face.
Seeing, at last, that the rehearsal will be longer than usual, he
resigns himself to the inevitable, and goes to sleep again.

[Illustration: THE FIGHT AT NORTHAMPTON.]

After Mr. Irving has grouped the men on the benches, he steps back and
looks at the table. "We ought to have on it some kind of mace or
crosier," he says--"a large crosier. Now for the 'make up.' All the
barons and everyone who has a moustache must wear a small beard. All the
gentlemen who have no beards remain unshaven. All the priests and
bishops are unshaven. The mob can have slight beards, but this is
unimportant. Now, take off your hats, gentlemen, please. Some of you
must be old, some young. Hair very short;" and he passes from group to
group selecting the different people. "Now, I think, that is all
understood pretty well. Where are the sketches for dresses?"

The sketches are brought, and he goes carefully through them. Mi