THE LESSONS TO BE LEARNED FROM 'NICKLEBY'
How do you measure a triumph? In the theater, God may say one thing, while Mammon says another. A triumph is when they don't argue. ''Nicholas Nickleby,'' dear, sweet, rich, plummy, 8 1/2-hour ''Nicholas Nickleby'' (or ''Nick Nick,'' as the boys in its backroom call it) leaves the Plymouth Theater on Jan. 3. It is finished then, its odyssey over. Still, we have learned from it. The first thing we have learned is that people love it, that they talk about it, and that they will pay $100 for a ticket to see it. Give them a chance, in fact, and they will pay a good deal more. Observe the street outside the Plymouth before almost any performance. Who are those people accosting the ticket holders? They are buyers, or would-be buyers, trying to lay on money for tickets. The odd thing, however, is not that they are there (this kind of thing goes on all the time outside Madison Square Garden) but how infrequently they find someone who will sell them a ticket. The going price for ''Nicholas Nickleby'' among professional ticket brokers is $250; the going price on the street outside the Plymouth has never been established. Business is too slow. No one wants to sell. There is a story about a ticket being sold for $1,000, but it may only be a story. What is undeniable, however, is the passion to see ''Nicholas Nickleby.''