Surely _Torvald_ would have thus described his semi-verdant _Nora_,
finding her distinctly to his taste.
Returning to what I venture to imagine must be "new matter" not in the
Herman-_plus_-Jonesian version, I consider the scene in which _Nora_
chaffs _Dr. Rank_ about his illness absolutely nauseous, and the
drink-inspired admiration of husband for wife in the concluding Act
repulsive to the last degree. On Tuesday the spectators received the
piece with patient apathy; and, this being the case, I could not help
feeling that anyone who could single out such a play as suitable for
performance before an English audience, could scarcely possess the
acumen generally considered a necessary adjunct to the qualifications
of an efficient Dramatic Critic. The hero, the heroine, the doctor,
as prigs, could only appeal to prigs, and thank goodness the average
London theatre-goer is the reverse of a prig. There was but one
redeeming point in the play--its conclusion. It ends happily in
_Nora_, forger, liar, and--hem--wedded flirt, being separated from her
innocent children.
For the rest, the piece was fairly well acted.
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