The Epilogue

Your Majesty, Ladies and Gentlemen.
A little while ago a lady died
A lady who, for many of us here
Epitomized the dignity and pride
Of our profession. Only fifty years
Have passed since young Miss Vanbrugh’s quality
Was stamped indelibly upon the hearts
Of Londoners. During those changing years
We were most privileged, not only us
Her colleagues who so loved and honored her
But you as well, you on the other side.
Perhaps you took for granted (as you should)
The lightness of her touch in comedy;
The note of hidden laughter in her voice;
The way she used her hands to illustrate
Some subtle implication. She could charge
An ordinary line with so much wit
That even critics thought the play was good!
They too, took for granted (as they should).
Then on the other hand, the other mask,
The mask of tragedy; she could wear that
With such authority that even we,
Her fellow actors plainly could perceive
Through her most accurate and sure technique
Her truth, which was her talent, shining clear.
Your Majesty, Ladies and Gentlemen,
A little while ago this lady died
Apparently, only apparently,
For even though the art that she adorned
Must in essence be ephemeral,
Players of her integrity and grace
Can never die. Although we shall not hear
That lyrical, gay voice again, nor see
The personal inimitable smile
That she bestowed on us at curtain calls
The theatre that she loved will still go on
Enriched immeasurably by the years
She gave to it. This epilogue is but
A prelude to the future she endowed
With so much legend, so much memory
For all the young beginners who will learn
Their intricate and fascinating trade
And over perhaps, some measure of their fame
To the undying magic of her name.