Parker. Mrs. Erlynne.Parker. Mrs. Erlynne.
(Lord Windermere starts. Mrs. Erlynne enters, very beautifully dressed and very dignified. Lady Windermere clutches at her fan, then lets it drop on the floor. She bows coldly to Mrs. Erlynne, who bows to her sweetly in turn, and sails into the room.)(Lord Windermere starts. Mrs. Erlynne enters, very beautifully dressed and very dignified. Lady Windermere clutches at her fan, then lets it drop on the floor. She bows coldly to Mrs. Erlynne, who bows to her sweetly in turn, and sails into the room.)
Lord Darlington. You have dropped your fan, Lady Windermere.Mrs. Erlynne. (C.) How do you do again, Lord Windermere?
(Picks it up and hands it to her.)Lord Darlington. You have dropped your fan, Lady Windermere.
Mrs. Erlynne. (C.) How do you do again, Lord Windermere? How charming your sweet wife looks! Quite a picture!(Picks it up and hands it to her.)
Lord Windermere. (In a low voice.) It was terribly rash of you to come!Lord Windermere. (In a low voice.) It was terribly rash of you to come!
Mrs. Erlynne. (Smiling.) The wisest thing I ever did in my life. And, by the way, you must pay me a good deal of attention this evening.Mrs. Erlynne. (Smiling.) The wisest thing I ever did in my life. How charming your sweet wife looks! Quite a picture! And, by the way, you must pay me a good deal of attention this evening.[63]

In the next extract, note that omission of “I want to live childless still” and shifting the position of the words “For twenty years, as you say, I have lived childless” permit an actress to work up to the strongest climax of the speech, when spoken, “They made me suffer too much.” Miss Anglin, trained by years of experience to great sensitiveness to the emotional values of words, has here arranged the sentences better than the author himself.

Lord Windermere. What do you mean by coming here this morning? What is your object?Lord Windermere. What do you mean by coming here this morning? What is your object?
(Crossing L.C. and sitting.)(Crossing L.C. and sitting.)
Mrs. Erlynne. (With a note of irony in her voice.) To bid good-bye to my dear daughter, of course. (Lord Windermere bites his underlip in anger. Mrs. Erlynne looks at him, and her voice and manner become serious. In her accents as she talks there is a note of deep tragedy. For a moment she reveals herself.) Oh, don't imagine I am going to have a pathetic scene with her, weep on her neck and tell her who I am, and all that kind of thing. I have no ambition to play the part of mother. Only once in my life have I known a mother's feelings. That was last night. They were terrible—they made me suffer—they made me suffer too much. For twenty years, as you say, I have lived childless—I want to live childless still.Mrs. Erlynne. (With a note of irony in her voice.) To bid good-bye to my dear daughter, of course. (Lord Windermere bites his underlip in anger. Mrs. Erlynne looks at him, and her voice and manner become serious. In her accents as she talks there is a note of deep tragedy. For a moment she reveals herself.) Oh, don't imagine I am going to have a pathetic scene with her, weep on her neck and tell her who I am, and all that kind of thing. I have no ambition to play the part of mother. For twenty years, as you say, I have lived childless. Only once in my life have I known a mother's feelings. That was last night. They were terrible—they made me suffer—they made me suffer too much.[64]

When an eighteenth-century manager, in his production of The School for Scandal, had colored fire set off in the wings as the falling screen revealed Lady Teazle, he failed of his intended effect because he thought that for his audience the falling of the screen was climactic. Really, of course, the enjoyment of the audience, as it listens to the dialogue, knowing that Lady Teazle overhears, is the chief source of pleasure. It is the dismay of Sir Peter, when he sees who is really behind the screen, which makes the climax. That dismay is not greater against a background of red fire. Crowded with action as the end of Hamlet is, we close it in acting, not on the fatal wounding of Hamlet, but either on his words, “The rest is silence,” or as the soldiers of Fortinbras march out with Hamlet’s body on their shields. Experience has proved that a stronger climax for an audience lies in those words or in seeing the procession which passes among the kneeling courtiers, stronger than from all the noisy emotions which have just preceded. In brief, except when we feel sure that we have made our feeling as to the emotions of a scene or act the public’s, it is they who must determine where the climax lies. Where it rests we must in all cases of doubt decide from our past experience of the public and present observation of it.

From all these illustrations it must be clear that the only rule for finding climax is: Understand clearly the audience for which you intend your play; create in it the sympathetic relation toward your characters you wish; then you may be sure that what seems to you a climax for your scene will be so for your audience.

Movement depends, then, on clearness, unity, emphasis, and a right feeling for suspense and climax. This movement may be steadily upward, as in the last scene of Hamlet, or it may have the wave-like advance found in Sigurjónsson’s Eyvind of the Hills[65] or Sir Arthur Pinero’s The Gay Lord Quex. The emotional interest in each of these sweeps up to a pure climax, drops back part way for a fresh start, and then advances to a stronger climax.

Granted that a would-be playwright understands the proportioning of his work and the correct development of it for clearness, emphasis and movement, he is ready to repeat the words of Ibsen: “I have just completed a play in five acts, that is to say, the rough draft of it. Now comes the elaboration, the more energetic individualization of the persons, and their modes of expression.”[66] He is ready to perfect his characterization and dialogue.