[43] Act I. Tr. Gilbert Murray. Geo. Allen & Sons, London.

[44] The Macmillan Co., N.Y.

[45] Mermaid Series. Vol. I, Act. I, Scene 1. Chas. Scribner's Sons, New York.

[46] _Vittoria Corambona_, Act III, Sc. 2. Webster. Belles-Lettres Series. M. W. Sampson, ed. D. C. Heath & Co., Boston and New York.

[47] See pp. 154-161.

[48] _Chief European Dramatists._ Brander Matthews, ed. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston.

[49] Act I, Scene 1. Mermaid Series, vol. III, of Everyman's Library.

[50] _Hamburg Dramaturgy_, pp. 367-368. Bohn ed.

[51] Samuel French, New York; W. Heinemann, London.

[52] _Plays._ Vol. I. J. Tonson, London, 1730.

[53] _Plays Pleasant and Unpleasant._ Brentano, New York.

[54] P. V. Stock, Paris.

[55] _The d.u.c.h.ess of Malfi_, Act I, Sc. 2. Webster. Belles-Lettres Series. M. W. Sampson, ed. D. C. Heath & Co., Boston and New York.

[56] _Colombe's Birthday_, Act IV Scene 1. Robert Browning.

Belles-Lettres Series A. Bates, ed. D. C. Heath & Co., Boston and New York.

CHAPTER VIII

DIALOGUE

Modern dramatic dialogue had beginnings far from realistic. It originated, as the Latin tropes show, in speeches given in unison and to music--a kind of recitative. What was the aim of this earliest dramatic dialogue? It sought to convey, first, last, and always, the facts of the episode or incident represented: "Whom seek ye here, O Christians? Jesus of Nazareth, the Crucified, O Heavenly Ones." And that is what good dramatic dialogue has always done, is doing, and must always do as its chief work--state clearly the facts which an auditor must understand if the play is to move ahead steadily and clearly. Already enough has been said (chapter VI, pp. 154-183) as to the need of clear preliminary and later exposition to show how axiomatic is the statement that the chief purpose of good dialogue is to convey necessary information clearly.

Even, however, when dialogue is clear in its statement of needed information, it may still be confusing for reader or hearer. What is the trouble with the text in the left-hand column--from an early draft of a play dealing with John Brown and his fortunes?

SCENE: _The Prison at Harper's Ferry_

_Brown._ Mary! I'm glad to _Brown._ Mary! I'm glad to see you, Mary. see you, Mary.

(_For a few seconds, silence._) (_For a few seconds, silence._)

_Mrs. Brown._ (_Crying out._) _Mrs. Brown._ (_Crying out._) Oh, my dear husband, it is a Oh, my dear husband, it is a hard hard fate. fate. It's been so long since I heard your voice.

_Brown._ (_Strong in his _Brown._ (_Strong in his composure._) Well, well, Mary, compposture._) Well, well, Mary, let us be cheerful. We must all let us be cheerful. We must all bear it the best we can. bear it the best we can.

(_Stroking her hair._) (_Stroking her hair._)

_Mrs. Brown._ Oh! You to go _Mrs. Brown._ Oh! You to go from me forever. from me forever.

(_Sinks her head on his breast (_Sinks her head on his breast again._) again._)

_Brown._ It must be,--and all _Brown._ It must be,--and all is for the best. There, there. is for the best. There, there.

(_Pats her head in an effort (_Pats her head in an effort to comfort her._) to comfort her._)

_Mrs. Brown._ But our poor _Mrs. Brown._ (_After a moment's children, John. silence._) Do they treat you well here John?

_Brown._ Those that have died are at peace in the next world.

(_She breaks out weeping again._) _Brown._ Like Joseph, I have Come, come, dry your tears; sit gained favor in the sight of the down and tell me about those at prison-keeper. He is a most humane home. (_He tries to lead her to gentleman--never mistreats or chair on right of table, but she tries to humiliate me.

checks her grief and seats herself. He goes slowly back to _Mrs. Brown._ May G.o.d bless such the other chair._) It weakens a man. Do you sleep any, John?

me to stand. Now tell me about home. _Brown._ Like a child,--all night in peace.

_Mrs. Brown._ It's a sad place. _Mrs. Brown._ I am glad of We couldn't believe the first that. I worried about it. Are reports about you and the boys the days long and lonesome?

being taken prisoners. We _couldn't_ believe you had _Brown._ All hours of the day _failed._ Then a New York paper glorious thoughts come to me.

came. We sat by the fire in the I am kept busy reading and living room. There was Watson's answering letters from my widow-- friends. I have with me my Bible, here. (_Placing his hand_ _Brown._ Poor Isabel, with _on the leather-bound volume at her little Freddie. the end of the table._) It is of infinite comfort. I never enjoyed _Mrs. Brown._ And William life more than since coming to Thompson's widow, our Ruth, prison. I wish all my poor family and Annie, and Oliver's widow-- were as composed and as happy.

_Brown._ Poor Martha. When the time came it was hard for her to leave the farm house and _Mrs. Brown._ But our poor Oliver behind. She kind of felt children, John. Poor Oliver and that she wouldn't see him any Watson. We shall never see more. them again.

_Mrs. Brown._ We said almost nothing while Salmon read. We _Brown._ Those that have died felt in our blindness G.o.d had are at peace. (_She breaks out been unfaithful to you and the weeping again._) But we shall boys. meet together in that other world where they do not shoot and _Brown._ My dear wife, you hang men for loving justice and must keep up your spirits. desiring freedom for all men.

Don't blame G.o.d. He has taken Come, come, dry your tears.

away my sword of steel, but He Sit down and tell me about those has given me the sword of the at home. (_He tries to lead her Spirit. to chair on right of table, but she checks her grief and seats _Mrs. Brown. (Looking up herself. He goes slowly back to into his face with almost a sad the other chair._) It weakens me smile upon hers._) That sounds to stand. Now, tell me about home, just like you, John. Oh, it's for that will give me comfort, been so long since I heard your Mary. No man can get into voice. difficulties too big to be surmounted if he has a firm _Brown._ Tell me more about foothold at home.

the family.

_Mrs. Brown._ Owen doesn't dare _Mrs. Brown._ It's a sad place.

come home yet. We couldn't believe the first reports about you and the boys _Brown._ Do you know where he is? being taken prisoners. _We wouldn't_ believe you had failed.

_Mrs. Brown._ Hiding among friends in Ohio. Poor boy, he is called all kinds of vile names, just for being with you. _Brown._ I have been a great deal disappointed in myself for _Brown._ For the cause we have not keeping to my plan.

all suffered much in the past; we shall have to in the future. _Mrs. Brown._ You made a mistake We should rejoice at his escape. only in judging how much you could do.

_Mrs. Brown._ I do, John, but O, poor Oliver and Watson! We _Brown._ I acted against my better shall never see them again. judgment.

_Brown._ Not in this world, _Mrs. Brown._ But after taking the but a.r.s.enal, why didn't you flee to the we shall meet together in that mountains, as we thought you would?

other world where they do not shoot and hang men for loving justice and desiring freedom for _Brown._ The delay was my mistake.

all men. But in G.o.d's greater and broader plan maybe it was infinitely _Mrs. Brown._ Yes, and they _did better. It was fore-ordained to die_ for a great and good cause! work out that way, determined (_Said with spirit._) before the world was made.

_Brown._ Some day all the _Mrs. Brown._ His ways are people of the earth will say mysterious and wonderful.

that. (_A moment's silence._) (_A slight pause as both think._)

_Mrs. Brown._ Do they treat _Brown._ How did you first get you well here, John? the news?

_Brown._ Like Joseph, I have _Mrs. Brown._ A New York paper gained favor in the sight of the came. We sat by the fire in the prison-keeper. He is a most living room. There was Watson's humane gentleman--never mistreats widow-- or tries to humiliate me.

_Brown._ Poor Isabel, with her _Mrs. Brown._ May G.o.d bless little Freddie.

such a man. Do you sleep any, John? _Mrs. Brown._ And William Thompson's widow, our Ruth, and _Brown._ Like a child,--all Annie, and Oliver's widow-- night in peace.

_Mrs. Brown._ I'm glad of that. _Brown._ Poor Martha.

I worried about it. Are the days When the time came, it was hard for long and lonesome? her to leave the farm house and Oliver behind. She kind of felt _Brown._ All hours of the day she wouldn't see him any more.