Opinions differ as to these after-curtain-fall demonstrations on the part of disappointed actors. Probably they had better be omitted, but we all understand that human nature has its limits of endurance. The annoyed actor is provoked in the heat of a miserable moment to reprove insulting audiences, and one cannot wholly wonder at it. A writer who, in cold blood, challenges his adverse critics is very foolish indeed, for he not only advertises the fact that he has had a whipping, but has smarted under it. Those who in any way choose to come before the public challenge criticism. It cannot be all honey, and if an occasional dose of vinegar is unpalatable to them they had better retire into their shells. But there was little or no excuse for the rowdies who ridiculed the Lyceum production of "Twelfth Night." No doubt the play was in some respects unfortunately cast. The Sir Toby Belch, the Sir Andrew Aguecheek, the Clown, and the Maria, missed the humour of their practical joking, and this greatly handicapped Henry Irving, who had elected to play Malvolio from a somewhat serious point of view. After putting the question "Is it a good part?" _Mr. Punch_ said of his performance: "Good enough in its proper place in the piece, no doubt, but when emphasised, developed, and elevated by an eminent tragedian holding such a position as does the manager of the Lyceum, to a height of tragic melodrama, then Malvolio is no longer the middle-aged, conceited, puritanical donkey who is a fair butt for the malicious waiting-maid, two stupid sots, and a professional fool, but he becomes at once a grave and reverend signior, a Grand Duchess's trusted major-domo, faithfully discharging the duties of which he has an exaggerated opinion, and the very last person to be the subject of an idiotic practical joke, the stupidity of which is intensified by its wanton cruelty. And in the end he gains the public sympathy for his sufferings, just as Shylock does." Whether Henry Irving meant his audiences to sympathise with Malvolio is more than I can say. It was certainly very instructive, as well as very enjoyable, to see the part played from that point of view. [Illustration: _Photograph by_ [_Window & Grove._ ELLEN TERRY AS "VIOLA." _First played by her at the Lyceum, July 8, 1884._ [_To face page 254._ ]