"When I first started out starring I honestly believed I had a mission to teach other less experienced actors how to act. I had made a close study of the plays I was to present, as well as of my own especial parts in them, and I actually thought it was my duty to impart my knowledge to those actors who were strange in them. Yes, that's the kind of a fool I was. I used to explain and describe, and show how, and work and sweat, and for my pains I received behind my back curses for keeping them so long at rehearsals, and before my face stolid indifference or a thinly veiled implication that I was grossly insulting them by my minute directions. Both myself and my voice were pretty well used up before I realized that my work had been wasted, my good intentions damned, that I had not been the leaven that could lighten the lump of stupid self-satisfaction we call the 'profession'; and I took solemn oath to myself never again to volunteer any advice, any suggestion, any hint as to reading, or business, or make-up to man or woman in any play of mine. If they acted well, all right; if they acted ill, all right too. If I found them infernal sticks, I'd leave them sticks. I'd demand just one thing, my cue. As long as I got the word to speak on, all the rest might go to the devil! Rehearsals shortened, actors had plenty of time for beer and pretzels; and as I ceased to try to improve their work, they soon called me a good fellow. And now you come along, willing to work, knowing more than some of your elders, yet actually believing there is still something for you to learn. Ambitious, keenly observant, you tempt me to teach you some business for this part, and yet if I do I suppose what goes in at one ear will go out of the other!"
Embarrassed silence on my part.
"Well," he went on, whimsically, "I see this is not your day for making protestations, but I'm going to give you the business, and if you choose to ignore it at night—why, that will serve me right for breaking my promise."
"Mr. Davenport," I said, "I always try to remember what is told me, and I don't see why I should not remember what you say; goodness knows you speak plainly enough," at which, to my troubled surprise, everyone, star and all, burst out laughing, but presently he returned to the play.
"See here," he said, "you, the adventuress, are worsted in this scene. You sit at the table. I have forced you to sign this paper, yet you say to me: 'You are a fool!' Now, how are you going to say it?"
"I don't know yet," I answered, "I have not heard the whole play through."
"What's that got to do with it?" he asked, sharply.
"Why," I said, "I don't know the story—I don't know whether she is really your enemy, or only injures you on impulse; whether she truly loves anyone, or only makes believe love."
"Good!" he cried, "good! that is sound reasoning. Well, you are my enemy, you love no one, so you see your 'fool' is given with genuine feeling. It's years since the line has drawn fire, but you do this business, and see. You sit, I stand at the opposite side of the table. You write your name—you are supposed to be crushed. I believe it and tower triumphantly over you. The audience believes it too. Now you lay down your pen—but carefully, mind you, carefully; then close the inkstand, and with very evident caution place it out of danger of a fall. Be sure you take your time, there are places where deliberation is as effective as ever rush and hurry can be. Then with your cheek upon your hand, or your chin on your clasped hands—any attitude you fancy will do—look at me good and long, and then speak your line. Have you thought yet how to deliver it?"
"Well," I answered, hesitatingly, "to call you a fool in a colloquial tone would make people laugh, I think, and—and the words don't fit a declamatory style. I should think a rather low tone of sneering contempt would be best," and he shouted loudly: "You've hit it square on the head! Now let's see you do it to-night. Don't look so frightened, my girl, only take your time, don't hurry. I've got to stand there till you speak, if you take all night. Be deliberate; you see, you have played all the rest so fiercely fast, the contrast will tell."