It's a wonder to me you are not dizzy turning over in your grave the way they do you.""Can it be that I can ever be out of date?"asked Shakespeare."Iknow,of course,that I have to be adapted at times;but to be wholly out of date strikes me as a hard fate.""You're not out of date,"interposed Carlyle;"the date is out of you.There is a great demand for Shakespeare in these days,but there isn't any stuff.""Then I should succeed,"said Shakespeare.
"No,I don't think so,"returned Carlyle."You couldn't stand the pace.The world revolves faster to-day than it did in your time--men write three or four plays at once.This is what you might call a Type-writer Age,and to keep up with the procession you'd have to work as you never worked before.""That is true,"observed Tennyson."You'd have to learn to be ambidextrous,so that you could keep two type-writing machines going at once;and,to be perfectly frank with you,I cannot even conjure up in my fancy a picture of you knocking out a tragedy with the right hand on one machine,while your left hand is fashioning a farce-comedy on another."
"He might do as a great many modern writers do,"said Ward;"go in for the Paper-doll Drama.Cut the whole thing out with a pair of scissors.As the poet might have said if he'd been clever enough:
Oh,bring me the scissors,And bring me the glue,And a couple of dozen old plays.
I'll cut out and paste A drama for you That'll run for quite sixty-two days.
Oh,bring me a dress Made of satin and lace,And a book--say Joe Miller's--of wit;And I'll make the old dramatists Blue in the face With the play that I'll turn out for it.
So bring me the scissors,And bring me the paste,And a dozen fine old comedies;A fine line of dresses,And popular taste I'll make a strong effort to please.
"You draw a very blue picture,it seems to me,"said Shakespeare,sadly.
"Well,it's true,"said Carlyle."The world isn't at all what it used to be in any one respect,and you fellows who made great reputations centuries ago wouldn't have even the ghost of a show now.
I don't believe Homer could get a poem accepted by a modern magazine,and while the comic papers are still printing Diogenes'jokes the old gentleman couldn't make enough out of them in these days to pay taxes on his tub,let alone earning his bread.""That is exactly so,"said Tennyson."I'd be willing to wager too that,in the line of personal prowess,even D'Artagnan and Athos and Porthos and Aramis couldn't stand London for one day.""Or New York either,"said Mr.Barnum,who had been an interested listener."A New York policeman could have managed that quartet with one hand.""Then,"said Shakespeare,"in the opinion of you gentlemen,we old-time lions would appear to modern eyes to be more or less stuffed?""That's about the size of it,"said Carlyle.
"But you'd draw,"said Barnum,his face lighting up with pleasure.
"You'd drive a five-legged calf to suicide from envy.If I could take you and Caesar,and Napoleon Bonaparte and Nero over for one circus season we'd drive the mint out of business.""There's your chance,William,"said Ward."You write a play for Bonaparte and Caesar,and let Nero take his fiddle and be the orchestra.Under Barnum's management you'd get enough activity in one season to last you through all eternity.""You can count on me,"said Barnum,rising."Let me know when you've got your plan laid out.I'd stay and make a contract with you now,but Adam has promised to give me points on the management of wild animals without cages,so I can't wait.By-by.""Humph!"said Shakespeare,as the eminent showman passed out.
"That's a gay proposition.When monkeys move in polite society William Shakespeare will make a side-show of himself for a circus.""They do now,"said Thackeray,quietly.
Which merely proved that Shakespeare did not mean what he said;for in spite of Thackeray's insinuation as to the monkeys and polite society,he has not yet accepted the Barnum proposition,though there can be no doubt of its value from the point of view of a circus manager.
