We ought to have done "As You Like It" in 1888, or "The Tempest." Henry thought of both these plays. He was much attracted by the part of Caliban in "The Tempest," but, he said, "the young lovers are everything, and where are we going to find them?" He would have played Touchstone in "As You Like It," not Jacques, because Touchstone is in the vital part of the play. He might have delayed both "Macbeth" and "Henry VIII." He ought to have added to his list of Shakespearian productions "Julius Caesar," "King John," "As You Like It," "Antony and Cleopatra," "Richard II.," and "Timon of Athens." There were reasons "against," of course. In "Julius Caesar" he wanted to play Brutus. "That's the part for the actor," he said, "because it needs acting. But the actor-manager's part is Antony. Antony scores all along the line. Now when the actor and actor-manager fight in a play, and when there is no part for you in it, I think it's wiser to leave it alone." Every one knows when luck first began to turn against Henry Irving. It was in 1896, when he revived "Richard III." On the first night he went home, slipped on the stairs in Grafton Street, broke a bone in his knee, aggravated the hurt by walking, and had to close the theatre. It was that year, too, that his general health began to fail. For the ten years preceding his death he carried on an indomitable struggle against ill-health. Lungs and heart alike were weak. Only the spirit in that frail body remained as strong as ever. Nothing could bend it, much less break it. But I have not come to that sad time yet. "_Macbeth_" "We all know when we do our best," said Henry once. "We are the only people who know." Yet he thought he did better in "Macbeth" than in "Hamlet!" Was he right, after all? [Illustration: ELLEN TERRY AS KNIERTJE IN "THE GOOD HOPE" TAKEN ON THE BEACH AT SWANSEA, WALES, IN 1906, BY EDWARD CRAIG "WE HAVE TO PAY DEAR FOR THE FISH" _From the collection of H. McM. Painter_] His _view_ of Macbeth, though attacked and derided and put to shame in many quarters, is as clear to me as the sunlight itself. To me it seems as stupid to quarrel with the conception as to deny the nose on one's face. But the carrying out of the conception was unequal. Henry's imagination was sometimes his worst enemy. When I think of his Macbeth, I remember him most distinctly in the last act, after the battle, when he looked like a great famished wolf, weak with the weakness of a giant exhausted, spent as one whose exertions have been ten times as great as those of commoner men of rougher fibre and coarser strength. "Of all men else I have avoided thee." Once more he suggested, as he only could suggest, the power of fate. Destiny seemed to hang over him, and he knew that there was no hope, no mercy. _The "Macbeth" Rehearsals_ [Illustration: JOHN SINGER SARGENT FROM A PORTRAIT PAINTED BY HIMSELF IN 1892 AND PRESENTED BY HIM TO THE NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN]