How could we learn from the text that "Duke" is John Hathaway? It is the stage direction which gives us that information. And what are we to do with this whole Burke's Peerage,--the Prime Minister, the Countess, the Slave? The author is depending for identification upon a list of _dramatis personae_ just preceding what has been quoted:

Time, present day.

Characters:

Anne Chesterfield, "The Princess."

John Hathaway, Anne's guardian, "The Duke."

Caroline Hathaway, John's aunt, "Head of the War Department."

Doctor Stirling, a friend, "The Prime Minister."

Katharine Bain, a friend, "The Countess."

Tommy Bain, Katharine's young brother, "The Slave."

Professor Heinrich Adler, "The Foreign Amba.s.sador."

James, a Servant.

Cut out this list of characters; in the stage directions strike out "John Hathaway," subst.i.tuting "A man"; strike out "Anne," subst.i.tuting "A young woman." At once it is clear that the dialogue reveals nothing about these people, except that a young woman who speaks is a niece of "Aunt Caroline." Yet these subst.i.tutions show what the scene looks like to a man entering the theatre without a program. Whenever such subst.i.tution of a type name for that of an individual in the t.i.tles prefixed to the speeches leaves the speakers unidentified, it is time to re-phrase the material for greater clearness.

Scenery and costume, of course, may show where the opening or later action of a play takes place. If these make clear the nationality of the speakers, or, at most, the province to which they belong, this is in many instances enough for any audience. In some cases, however, the nature of the plot is so dependent on the customs of a particular community that it is necessary or wise to make the text farther particularize any placing of the play by scenery or costumes. Simple interiors, too, are not always easily identifiable as of this or that province, or even country. If province or country at all determines the action of the piece, the text should help out the setting. One reason why the plays of Synge aroused bitter opposition was that some auditors believed them representations of life anywhere in Ireland and not, as they were meant to be, pictures of the manners of Aran Islanders, a group so isolated as to retain much savagery. Also, if the text is clear as to place, suggestion may take the place of realism in the scenery, thus decreasing expense. The emphasis on place in the opening of _The Rising of the Moon_ both permits scenery that merely suggests a quay and plants in the minds of hearers a setting essential to the whole development of the play:

SCENE: _Side of a quay in a seaport town. Some posts and chains. A large barrel. Enter three policemen. Moonlight._

_Sergeant, who is older than the others, crosses the stage to right and looks down steps. The others put down a pastepot and unroll a bundle of placards._

_Policeman B._ I think this would be a good place to put up a notice.

(_He points to a barrel._)

_Policeman X._ Better ask him. (_Calls to Sergeant._.) Will this be a good place for a placard? (_No answer._)

_Policeman B._ Will we put up a notice here on the barrel? (_No answer._)

_Sergeant._ There's a flight of steps here that leads to the water.

This is a place that should be minded well. If he got down here, his friends might have a boat to meet him; they might send it in here from outside.

_Policeman B._ Would the barrel be a good place to put a notice up?

_Sergeant._ It might; you can put it there. (_They paste the notice up._)

_Sergeant._ (_Reading it._) Dark hair--dark eyes, smooth face, height five feet five--there's not much to take hold of in that--It's a pity I had no chance of seeing him before he broke out of jail. They say he's a wonder, that it's he makes all the plans for the whole organization. There isn't another man in Ireland would have broken jail the way he did. He must have some friends among the jailers.

_Policeman B._ A hundred pounds reward is little enough for the Government to offer for him. You may be sure any man in the force that takes him will get promotion.

_Sergeant._ I'll mind this place myself. I wouldn't wonder at all if he comes this way. He might come slipping along there (_points to side of quay_) and his friends might be waiting for him there (_points down steps_), and once he got away it's little chance we'd have of finding him; it's maybe under a load of kelp he'd be in a fishing boat, and not one to help a married man that wants it to the reward.[3]

The period in which the play is supposed to take place, if of importance to the action, needs careful statement. Helped out by setting and costumes, the following shows that the play is taking place at the time of the French Revolution.

_At rise of curtain, drums are heard beating, trumpets sounding the charge in the distance. A report of a cannon as the curtain rises._

_Jennie._ (_R., going up to door C._) Did you hear that? It must be somewhere near the Rue d'Ech.e.l.le now.

_Julie._ (_L. crossing to R._) My! I'm frightened to death.

_Marie._ (_Carrots--up C._) I only hope they won't come fighting down _our_ street.

_Julie._ (_Kneeling._) Bless us and save us!

_Jennie._ (_Up C._) Down our street. What should they come here for?

It's the Tuileries and the King they're after. (_Going to window L._)

_First Neighbor and Omnes._ (_At back._) Of course they are. That's it.

_First Woman._ (_Up C._) I tell you they're at the Carrousel. (_Report of cannon._)

_Marie._ It will be a mercy if they don't smash every pane of gla.s.s in the shop.

_Julie._ Well I shan't forget this 10th of August in a hurry.

(_At back a National Guard wounded in the leg supported by two other guards enters at L., is taken into the druggist's shop. All the people move towards the shop._)[4]

Lapse of time between two acts, if important to the development of the plot, should also be clearly stated. Dramatists like to depend on the programs for such information, but they run the chance that many auditors will not see the printed note. Doubtless a program would give these words from the stage direction at the beginning of the fourth act of Hauptmann's _Lonely Lives_: "Time between 4 and 5 P.M.," but the quick pa.s.sage of time is so important a fact in the development of the plot that six or seven pages later there is the following dialogue:

_Braun._ (_Looks at telegram._) It is the six o'clock train that Mr.

Vockerat is coming by? What o'clock is it now?

_Mrs. Vockerat._ Not half-past four yet.

_Braun._ (_After a moment of reflection._) Has there been no change in the course of the week?

_Mrs. Vockerat._ (_Shakes her head hopelessly._) None.

_Braun._ Has she given no hint of any intention to go?[5]

In _The Galloper_, by Richard Harding Davis, what the audience hears will place the play in a hotel at Athens, even if the scenery does not:

_Before the curtain rises one hears a drum-and-fife corps playing a lively march, and the sound of people cheering. This comes from the rear and to the left, and continues after the curtain is up, dying away gradually as though the band, and the regiment with it, had pa.s.sed and continued on up the street._

_Anstruther is discovered seated on the lower right-end corner of the table, with his right foot resting on the chair at that corner. He is reading the Paris "New York Herald" and smoking a cigarette. He is a young man of good manner and soldierly appearance. He wears gray whipcord riding breeches, tan riding boots, and Norfolk jacket of rough tweed. His slouch hat, with a white puggaree wrapped round it, lies on the table beside him. Griggs stands at the edge of the French window looking off left. In his hand he holds a notebook in which he takes notes. He is supposed to be watching the soldiers who are pa.s.sing. He is a pompous little man of about forty with eyegla.s.ses. He wears a khaki uniform similar to that of an officer of the British army, with the difference that the b.u.t.tons are of bone. His left chest is covered with ribbons of war medals. Hewitt, a young man with a pointed beard and moustache, stands to the left of Griggs, also looking off left. He wears a khaki coat made like a Norfolk jacket, khaki riding breeches, and canvas United States Army leggings and tan shoes. On the table are his slouch hat and the khaki-colored helmet of Griggs._

_Captain O'Malley enters right. He is a dashing young Irishman, in the uniform of an officer of the Greek Army. He halts to right of Anstruther and salutes._

_Capt. O'Malley._ Pardon, I am Captain O'Malley of the Foreign Legion.

Am I addressing one of the foreign war correspondents?

_Capt. Anstruther._ Yes.

_Capt. O'Malley._ (_Showing him a visiting card._) Pardon, is this your card?

_Capt. Anstruther._ (_Reading card._) "Mr. Kirke Warren." No.

_Capt. O'Malley._ Do you know if Mr. Warren is in this hotel?