interest for serious folk, and that everything--everything, I
mean, that's anything--is over. The sooner we recognize it the sooner to
sleep, the sooner we get clear of misleading illusions and are purged
of the bad blood that disappointment makes. It's a pity, because the
theatre--after every allowance is made--_might_ have been a fine thing.
At all events it was a pleasant--it was really almost a noble--dream.
_Requiescat!_

Florentia. I see nothing to confirm your absurd theory. I delight in the
play; more people than ever delight in it with me; more people than ever
go to it, and there are ten theatres in London where there were two of
old.

Dorriforth. Which is what was to demonstrated. Whence do they derive
their nutriment?

Auberon. Why, from the enormous public.

Dorriforth. My dear fellow, I'm not talking of the box-office. What
wealth of dramatic, of histrionic production have we to meet that
enormous demand? There will be twenty theatres ten years hence where
there are ten to-day, and there will be, no doubt, ten times as many
people "delighting in them," like Florentla. But it won't alter the fact
that our dream will have been dreamed. Florentia said a word when we
came in which alone speaks volumes.

Florentia. What was my word?

Auberon. You are sovereignly unjust to native talent among the actors--I
leave the dramatists alone. There are many who do excellent, independent
work; strive for perfection, completeness--in short, the things we want.

Dorriforth. I am not in the least unjust to them--I only pity them: they
have so little to put _sous la dent_. It must seem to them at times
that no one will work for them, that they are likely to starve for
parts--forsaken of gods and men.

Florentia. If they work, then, in solitude and sadness, they have the
more honor, and one should recognize more explicitly their great merit.

Dorriforth. Admirably said. Their laudable effort is precisely the one
little loop-hole that I see of escape from the general doom. Certainly
we must try to enlarge it--that small aperture into the blue. We must
fix our eyes on it and make much of it, exaggerate it, do anything with
it tha may contribute to restore a working faith. Precious that must be
to the sincere spirits on the stage who are conscious of all the other
things--formidable things--that rise against them.

Amicia. What other things do you mean?

Dorriforth. Why, for one thing, the grossness and brutality of