However inclined we may be to quarrel with Bernhardt's conception of the Duke of Reichstadt, we can never forget her disclosure of the Eaglet's frail soul through inflection as she crushes letter after letter in her hand and tosses them aside, uttering the simple words, Je déchire, and the final revelation in the quick, thrilling curve of her wonderful voice on the same words as the little cousin leaves the room at the close of this episode of the letters.
No better material can be chosen for a study of inflection than the paragraph from Emerson's Friendship, quoted in a preceding chapter. Let us repeat the first sentence again. "Our friendships hurry to short and poor conclusions because we have made them a texture of wine and dreams instead of the tough fiber of the human heart." Study, in voicing this, how to illumine the thought by your contrastive inflection of the words "wine and dreams" and "tough fiber of the human heart." A lingering circumflex cadence in uttering the first two words will suggest the unstable nature of a friendship woven out of so frail a fabric as wine and dreams, while a swift, strong, straight-falling inflection on each of the last six words indicates the vigorous growth of a love rooted in the tough fiber of the human heart.
In Monna Vanna Maurice Maeterlinck gives the actress a superb opportunity to show her mastery of inflection. Let us turn to the scene in Prinzivalle's tent:[12]
Prinzivalle. Are you in pain?
Vanna. No!
Prinzivalle. Will you let me have it [her wound] dressed?
Vanna. No! (Pause.)
Prinzivalle. You are decided?
Vanna. Yes.
Prinzivalle. Need I recall the terms of the—?