“My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea;
But before I go, Tom Moore,
Here’s a double health to thee.”
It is a kind of after-dinner speech, or lyric full of feeling, an imaginative proposal by Byron of a health to Tom Moore. But Moore is not expected to say anything. Byron is dominated entirely by his own mood. It is therefore quite lyric and not at all dramatic. Note how intense but regular are the rhythmic pulsations, the pause and the touch. While there are changes of pitch and inflection, variety of movement and tone-color, yet all of these are used in a very simple and ordinary sense. There is none of that extreme use of inflection, pause or tone-color found in Browning’s “Memorabilia.”
The difference between the modulations of the voice in a monologue and in a play should be noted. Take, for example, the words of the Archbishop in “Henry V” regarding the character of the King. They are addressed to friends in conversation and are almost a speech. They have the force of a judicial decision and are given with a great deal of emphasis as well as with logical continuity of ideas. But this emphasis is regular and simple. It can be noted in any animated or emphatic conversation, and the argument of the speech may be studied to advantage by speakers on account of the few and salient or emphatic ideas.
In rendering some monologues, however, which embody the same ideas, such as the “Memorabilia” (see p. [160]), which has been made the central illustration of this chapter, greater range, greater abruptness in transitions, more and greater complexity of the modulations of the voice as well as sudden and strong impressions are required of the reader. He should read both passages in contrast, and note the difference in delivery.
One distinct peculiarity of the monologue is the fact that it can give a past event from a dramatic point of view. Note, for example, that in Jean Ingelow’s familiar poem, “The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire,” the first stanza gives us the spirit or movement of the whole poem. The first line,
“The old mayor climbed the belfry tower,”
emphasizes the excitement.
A definite situation is set before us, and we can see, too, why the events are given as belonging to the past. A vivid impression of the high tide along the whole coast of Lincolnshire is afforded by its relation to one humble cottage and family. An old grandmother tells the story long after the events have blended in her mind into one lasting tragic impression. This brings the whole poem into unity, makes a distinct, concrete picture and a most impressive poetic, not to say dramatic, interpretation of the event.
The author by presenting this old mother talking about her beloved daughter-in-law, Elizabeth, with “her two bairns,” and the excited race of the son to reach home before she went for the cows, appeals to sympathy and feeling, awakens imagination, and presents not only a vivid and specific picture, but such distinct types of character as to make the event real. The poem is a fine example of the union of lyric and dramatic imagination.
The speaker becomes more and more excited and animated as she gives her memories of the successive events, but in the midst of each event relapses into grief. Again and again at the close of stanzas, a single clause or line indicates her emotion, rather than her memory of the exciting events. The event is portrayed dramatically, but these last lines are decidedly lyric. After the excited calling of “Elizabeth! Elizabeth!” by her son the very name seems to awaken tenderness in her heart, and she utters this deep lyric conviction:—