Her husband, is retaken by the same
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense.[54]
It may be true that when one reads a dramatic monologue, the changes in thought caused by some movement or look of an imagined hearer may seem sufficiently motivated. When, on the other hand, this monologue is staged, it becomes exceedingly unreal because we feel that the second person would not be silent but would interrupt with question or comment. More than this, unless the listening actor changes from pose to pose with rapid plasticity, he will become stiff in attitude, thus making us conscious of him when we should be listening to the speaker. Increasing the number of hearers does not relieve the situation, but merely increases the number of possible interrupters or of people who stand about the stage more and more stiffly. Soliloquy is, therefore, to be avoided except when it seems or can be made to seem perfectly natural. Monologue, acceptable perhaps to a reader, becomes well-nigh impossible on the stage.
The aside must be subjected to very nearly the same tests. In Two Loves and a Life of Tom Taylor and Charles Reade, Musgrave and his daughter, Anne, are opening letters surreptitiously. They come to the letter of William Hyde, which the girl opens with reluctance, crying,—
Ah, see, father, it is a blank!
Musgrave. A blank! Then it is as I thought!
Anne. How?
Musgrave. Here, girl!
(He takes the letter and holds it to the fire in the brazier.)
Anne. See! Letters become visible!