“No doubt you could, sir; because you can act anything, from a billiard ball to Macbeth; but it’s no good my trying, because I haven’t the faintest idea how to set about it.”
“I’ll show you,” answered Mr. Merridew. “A thing of this kind, you must understand, is merely academic—an exercise, like a Chopin study—but it will give you a glimpse into the expression and control of emotions and passions, and show you how the skilled actor can make bricks without straw and something out of nothing.”
He rose from his professorial chair and lightly ascended the steps to the stage. Then he stood for a moment, rapt in brooding thought of the profoundest character, and then suddenly began:
“A!” (astonishment combined with joy, as though he had suddenly met an old friend, long given up for lost). “B?” (a note of inquiry uttered with tremulous emotion, as though much depended upon it). “C” (gladly, with great relief and a nod of the head). “D—E—F” (spoken loudly and swiftly with an expression of increasing satisfaction and happiness.)[happiness.)] “G!” (a sudden peal of laughter which shook the room and echoed from the walls). “H” (more laughter; gradually subsiding). “I—J” (laughter; dying out and at last completely at an end). “K!” (a loud and ringing note of alarm accompanied by the raising of the hands to the breast). “L!” (the alarm increasing, the hands lifted gradually and thrown back, the face showing considerable fear). “M!” (uttered with immense relief, as though the danger was past, but the effect still apparent in nervous turning of the head to right and left). “N—O—P!” (three gracious bows in different directions, as though three welcome persons had come on to the stage to meet the professor). “Q—R—S” (three gestures each different from the others, indicating that the professor was shaking hands with each of the new arrivals). “T!” (a sudden drawing back, as though the last of the arrivals wasn’t behaving nicely). “U!!” (a most tragic and sudden explosion, accompanied by a dagger-thrust which settled the last of the arrivals and laid him dead at the professor’s feet). “V—W!!!” (a sudden half-turn, during which the momentary triumph over the last of the arrivals was evidently swept away by the onslaught of the others). “X!!” (a violent struggle, in which the professor was thrown this way and that by his invisible antagonists). “Y!!” (a long-drawn, deadly hiss of rage, accompanied by a flash of victory in the eye and a rapid dagger-stroke, which prostrated another foe). “Z!!!” (a loud cry of acute despair; both hands pressed over the heart and the professor sank to his knees, thus indicating that his remaining foe had been too much for him).
It was a drama in a minute and a half, and we were all so much moved that we burst into loud applause. Then the professor regained his feet gracefully and bowed, as though we were an audience of a thousand people. This magnificent inspiration, executed with consummate aplomb, almost bewildered me and Mr. Smith and Brightwin by its magnificence. It showed, too, the sort of man who was going to take us in hand.
But Mr. Merridew made nothing of it. It was just a superb bit of spontaneous acting, dashed off as Michael Angelo would dash off a statue, or Beethoven a symphony.
In a way it was rather depressing, because it showed how much lay before us. But we were all excited and hopeful on the whole. Even Mr. Smith felt a sort of divine fire in his veins. He offered to stand Brightwin and me some supper after the lesson was over, and we gladly consented to let him do so.
Mr. Smith told us about himself presently—how he had come into a little money and was now in a position to give up his work (which, he said, had been of a subordinate character, but didn’t specify) and seriously devote himself to the stage.
We listened to him very patiently and made a huge supper.
And afterwards, when we had seen Mr. Smith home to his wife and family off the Tottenham Court Road, Brightwin said that to be stage-struck at Mr. Smith’s age and with his figure was a tragedy of the deepest dye.