And I have said no word of this to him: Am _I_ the man?" And the Am _I_ the man?" And the Lord answer'd me, Lord answer'd me, "Thou art the man, and all the "Thou art the man and all the more the man." more the man."

And thereupon, methought, He And thereupon, methought, He drew toward me, drew toward me, And smote me down upon the And smote me down upon the Minster floor. Minster floor.

I fell. I fell.

_Herbert._ G.o.d make not thee but _Herbert._ G.o.d make not thee thy foes, fall. but thy foes, fall.

_Becket._ I fell. Why fall?

Why did he smite me? What?

Shall I fall off--to please the King once more?

Not fight--tho' somehow traitor to the King-- My truest and mine utmost for the Church?

_Herbert._ Thou canst not fall that way. Let traitor be; For how have fought thine utmost for the Church, Save from the throne of thine archbishop.r.i.c.k?

And how been made archbishop hadst thou told him, "I mean to fight mine utmost for the Church, Against the King?"

_Becket._ But dost thou think the King Forced mine election?

_Herbert._ I do think the King Was potent in the election, and why not?

Why should not Heaven have so inspired the King?

Be comforted. Thou art the man--be thou A mightier Anselm.

_Becket._ I do believe thee, then. I am the man.

And yet I seem appall'd--on such _Becket._ And yet I seem a sudden appall'd--on such a sudden At such an eagle-height I stand At such an eagle-height I stand and see and see The rift that runs between me The rift that runs between me and the King. and the King.

I served our Theobald well when I was with him; I served King Henry well as Chancellor; I am his no more, and I must serve the Church.

This Canterbury is only less than Rome, And all my doubts I fling from me like dust, Winnow and scatter all scruples to the wind, And all the puissance of the warrior, And all the wisdom of the Chancellor, And all the heap'd experiences of life, I cast upon the side of Canterbury-- Our holy mother Canterbury, who sits With tatter'd robes. Laics and barons, thro'

The random gifts of careless kings, have graspt Her livings, her advowsons, granges, farms, And goodly acres--we will make her whole; Not one rood lost. And for these Royal customs, These ancient Royal customs--they _are_ Royal, Not of the Church--and let them be anathema, And all that speak for them anathema.

_Herbert._ Thomas, thou art _Herbert._ Thomas, thou art moved too much. moved too much.

_Becket._ Oh, Herbert here _Becket._ O Herbert, here I gash myself asunder from the I gash myself asunder from the King, King, Tho' leaving each, a wound: mine Tho' leaving each, a wound; mine own, a grief own, a grief To show the scar forever--his, To show the scar forever--his, a hate a hate Not ever to be heal'd.[28] Not ever to be heal'd.[29]

Dialogue, then, should avoid all unnecessary detail, and should avoid repet.i.tion except for desired dramatic ends--in other words, must select and again select.

Practically every ill.u.s.tration thus far used in treating dialogue fitted for the stage has shown the enormous importance of facial expression, gesture, and voice. What the voice may do with just two words is the substance of a little one-act piece made famous years ago by Miss Genevieve Ward and later often read by the late George Riddle. An actress applying to a manager is tested as to her power to express in the two words "Come here" all the emotions described by her examiner. As will be seen, the little play, when read in the study, lacks effectiveness. Given by an actress who can put into the two words all that is demanded, it becomes varied, exciting, and even amazing.

_Actress._ ... Your selection may not be in my repertoire.

_Manager._ Oh! yes, it is. I only require two words: "Come here."

_Actress._ Come here?

_Manager._ Yes, and with the words, the meaning, emphasis, and expressions, that situation, character, and the surroundings would command.

_Actress._ (_Takes off her bonnet and shawl._) Well, then, I am ready.

_Manager._ Before a mother stand a loving couple, who pray for her consent; the lover is poor; she battles with her pride, it is a great struggle for her; at last with open arms she cries--

_Actress._ Come here!

_Manager._ A mother calls her little daughter, who has done something to vex her.

_Actress._ Come here!

_Manager._ And now it is her step-child.

_Actress._ Come here!

_Manager._ A carriage is dashing by, the child is in the street, the mother's heart is filled with terror, she calls her darling and cries out--

_Actress._ Come here!

_Manager._ In tears and sorrow a wife has bid adieu to her departing husband, whom the State has called to defend his country on the battlefield; her only consolation is in her children, these she calls, and presses to her heart.

_Actress._ Come here!

_Manager._ The husband has returned, and full of joy she calls her children as she observes him coming home.

_Actress._ Come here!

_Manager._ While in his arms, she now observes his servant, and as with every one she would divide her joy she calls to him--

_Actress._ Come here!

_Manager._ The feelings of a mother in all her joys and tribulation, you have most perfectly sustained. Now show me, how in despair a widow, who has lost all she possessed through fire, confronts the creditors, who clamor for their dues, and whose cruelty has killed her husband. She stands by his body and points to all that now is left her, the remains of her dead husband, and calls on them to look at their work.

_Actress._ Come here!

_Manager._ I must confess you depict pain as if you felt it.[30]

Mark, when running through the scene in which Iago tempts Oth.e.l.lo to his final undoing (Act III, Scene 3.), the variety of intonation required in the repet.i.tions of "Honest" and "Think." In a novel containing this scene the absence of the actors' trained intonations would cost the author much labor in describing how the words should be uttered.

_Oth.e.l.lo._ Farewell, my Desdemona; I'll come to thee straight.

_Desdemona._ Emilia, come.--Be as your fancies teach you; Whate'er you be, I am obedient.

(_Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia_.)

_Oth.e.l.lo._ Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

_Iago._ My n.o.ble lord,--

_Oth.e.l.lo._ What dost thou say, Iago?

_Iago._ Did Michael Ca.s.sio, when you woo'd my lady, Know of your love?

_Oth.e.l.lo._ He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?

_Iago._ But for a satisfaction of my thought; No further harm.

_Oth.e.l.lo._ Why of thy thought, Iago?

_Iago._ I did not think he had been acquainted with her.