Part 66 (2/2)
_Ophelia._ My lord I doe not know, But truly I doe feare it.
_Polonius._ What said he?
_Ophelia._ He took me by the wrist, and held me hard, Then goes he to the length of all his arme, And with his other hand thus ore his brow, He falls to such perusall of my face As a would draw it.[59]
Is it probable that in the following extract from _A Soul's Tragedy_ of Browning the deeply interested and excited audience would permit the first bystander to complete uninterrupted his third and very long speech? Are the phrasing and thought really his, or Robert Browning's?
ACT II. _Scene. The market place. Luitolfo in disguise mingling with the Populace a.s.sembled opposite the Provost's Palace._
_1st Bystander._ (_To Luitolfo._) You, a friend of Luitolfo's? Then, your friend is vanished,--in all probability killed on the night that his patron the tyrannical Provost was loyally suppressed here, exactly a month ago, by our ill.u.s.trious fellow-citizen, thrice-n.o.ble saviour, and new Provost that is like to be, this very morning,--Chiappino!
_Luitolfo._ (_Aside._) (If I had not lent that man the money he wanted last spring, I should fear this bitterness was attributable to me.) Luitolfo is dead then, one may conclude?
_3rd Bystander._ Why, he had a house here, and a woman to whom he was affianced; and as they both pa.s.s naturally to the new Provost, his friend and heir...
_Luitolfo._ Ah, I suspected you of imposing upon me with your pleasantry! I know Chiappino better.
_1st Bystander._ (Our friend has the bile. After all, I do not dislike finding somebody vary a little this general gape of admiration at Chiappino's glorious qualities.) Pray, how much may you know of what has taken place in Faenza since that memorable night?
_Luitolfo._ It is most to the purpose, that I know Chiappino to have been by profession a hater of that very office of Provost, you now charge him with proposing to accept.
_1st Bystander._ Sir, I'll tell you. That night was indeed memorable.
Up we rose, a ma.s.s of us, men, women, children; out fled the guards with the body of the tyrant; we were to defy the world; but, next gray morning, ”What will Rome say?” began everybody. You know we are governed by Ravenna, which is governed by Rome. And quietly into the town, by the Ravenna road, comes on muleback a portly personage, Ogniben by name, with the quality of Pontifical Legate; trots briskly through the streets humming a ”Cur fremuere gentes,” and makes directly for the Provost's Palace--there it faces you. ”One Messer Chiappino is your leader? I have known three-and-twenty leaders of revolts!” (laughing gently to himself)--”Give me the help of your arm from my mule to yonder steps under the pillar--So! And now, my revolters and good friend what do you want? The guards burst into Ravenna last night bearing your wounded Provost; and, having had a little talk with him, I take on myself to come and try appease the disorderliness, before Rome, hearing of it, resort to another method: 'tis I come, and not another, from a certain love I confess to, of composing differences. So, do you understand, you are about to experience this unheard-of tyranny from me, that there shall be no heading nor hanging, no confiscation nor exile: I insist on your simply pleasing yourselves. And, now, pray, what does please you? To live without any government at all? Or having decided for one, to see its minister murdered by the first of your body that chooses to find himself wronged, or disposed for reverting to first principles and a justice anterior to all inst.i.tutions,--and so will you carry matters, that the rest of the world must at length unite and put down such a den of wild beasts? As for vengeance on what had just taken place,--once for all, the wounded man a.s.sures me that he cannot conjecture who struck him; and this so earnestly, that one may be sure he knows perfectly well what intimate acquaintance could find admission to speak with him late last evening. I come not for vengeance therefore, but from pure curiosity to hear what you will do next.” And thus he ran on, easily and volubly, till he seemed to arrive quite naturally at the praise of law, order, and paternal government by somebody from rather a distance. All our citizens were in the snare and about to be friends with so congenial an adviser; but that Chiappino suddenly stood forth, spoke out indignantly and set things right again.
_Luitolfo._ Do you see? I recognize him there![60]
People who think ramblingly and not clearly must undoubtedly on the stage speak in similar fas.h.i.+on, but it is wise when possible to avoid stating two or three ideas in the same sentence, or developing two or three ideas in one long speech. An idea to a sentence, with the development of one thought in a speech, is a fairly safe principle, though not unalterable. For instance, the daughter of a widowed mother is facing the fact that if they are to stay in their meagre quarters she may have to ask this as a favor from her employer, Mr. Hollings. The mother, not knowing that he has pressed his attentions objectionably, does not understand the unwillingness of the girl to ask his help. In answer to her pleadings the girl cries, ”Oh, I would do anything for you! Poor dear father! Mother, go to Mr. Hollings.” Here are three different trains of thought in one speech. The first exclamation is a direct answer to the mother's preceding speech. For the audience there is no clearness of transition to the second exclamation, nor from it to the third. Cut the girl's answer to the first sentence. Then the mother, seizing on the idea that her daughter is willing to do anything, urges her for this and that reason to see her employer, emphasizing the idea that, had the father lived, all their present sorrow would not exist.
In this case the second exclamation falls into its proper place, as a natural reply of the girl to her mother. If, too, as the mother urges reason after reason for going to the employer for aid, the girl at last pleads, ”Mother, you go to Mr. Hollings,” this sentence also falls into its proper place. It becomes the first sign of her yielding, for she is at last willing that some one should intercede with the man. When a writer finds himself skipping from idea to idea within a speech or a sentence, with transitions likely to be unclear for the audience, he should break what he has written into its component parts and let the other people on the stage, by their interruptions, queries, and comments, provide the connectives of speech and thought which will bind these ideas together properly. The following rearrangement by Miss Anglin of the original text of _Lady Windermere's Fan_ shows her correct feeling that ideas originally treated together should be separated. Lord Windermere's reply is to the first sentence of Mrs. Erlynne's speech. It is therefore much clearer to s.h.i.+ft her two succeeding exclamations to her next speech.
ORIGINAL REVISION
_Mrs. Erlynne._ (_C._) How do _Mrs. Erlynne._ (_C._) How do you do, again, Lord Windermere? you do, again, Lord Windermere?
How charming your sweet wife looks! Quite a picture! _Lord Windermere._ (_In a low voice._) It was terribly rash _Lord Windermere._ (_In a low of you to come!
voice._) It was terribly rash of you to come! _Mrs. Erlynne._ (_Smiling._) The wisest thing I ever did in my _Mrs. Erlynne._ (_Smiling._) The life. How charming your sweet wisest thing I ever did in my life. wife looks! Quite a picture! And, And, by the way, you must pay by the way, you must pay me a me a good deal of attention this good deal of attention this evening.[61] evening.
Often dialogue which is clear sentence by sentence is, as a whole, somewhat confusing to an audience. Frequently a careful re-ordering of the parts of the speech, or of a group of speeches, will dispose of the trouble. Occasionally a playwright allows his ordering of his ideas to obscure the cue, or important idea. Undoubtedly the important word in what follows is ”christenings,” but Chasuble runs on into various other matters before Jack speaks. Consequently a hearer is a little startled when Jack takes up the idea of christenings instead of anything following it.
_Chasuble._ In Paris! (_Shakes his head._) I fear that hardly points to any very serious state of mind at the last. You would no doubt wish me to make some slight allusion to this tragic domestic affliction next Sunday. (_Jack presses his hand convulsively_.) My sermon on the meaning of the manna in the wilderness can be adapted to almost any occasion, joyful, or, as in the present case, distressing. (_All sigh_.) I have preached it at harvest celebrations, christenings, confirmations, on days of humiliation and festal days. The last time I delivered it was in the Cathedral, as a charity sermon on behalf of the Society for the Prevention of Discontent among the Upper Orders.
The Bishop, who was present, was much struck by some of the a.n.a.logies I drew.
_Jack._ Ah! That reminds me, you mentioned christenings I think, Dr.
Chasuble? I suppose you know how to christen all right? (_Dr. Chasuble looks astounded._) I mean, of course, you are continually christening, aren't you?[62]
It is true that the last part of Chasuble's speech ill.u.s.trates his volubility, and that the way in which Jack picks up the idea, ”christening,” shows that he is so absorbed in his purpose as to pay no attention to anything Chasuble says after ”christenings.” Here, therefore, the method is probably justified, but ordinarily the end of one speech leads into the next, and when something which breaks the sequence stands between, it must prove its right to be there, or be postponed for later treatment, or be cut out altogether. What re-ordering will do for a dialogue which is uninteresting and somewhat confused was shown in the revising of the extract from the John Brown play (pp. 309-313). There is a brilliant instance, in Miss Anglin's version of _Lady Windermere's Fan_, of re-ordering such that a climax of interest develops from groups of somewhat independent sentences.
ORIGINAL REVISION
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