For instance:  F. F. Mackay was rehearsing to play the French count in the famous old play, “One of Our Girls.”  Mr. Bronson Howard had directed in his manuscript that the count, when struck across the face with a glove by an English officer, should become very violent and angry, in accordance with the popular notion of an excitable Frenchman’s character.  “But Mr. Mackay,” says Daniel Frohman, “argued that the French count, having been shown in the play to be an expert duellist with both the rapier and the pistol, and having faced danger frequently, was not liable to lose control of himself.  Mr. Howard readily saw the point.  The result was one of the most striking situations in the American drama; for the Frenchman received the insult without the movement of a muscle.  He stood rigid.  Only the flash of the eye for an instant revealed his emotion.  Then the audience saw his face grow red, and then pale.  This was followed by the quiet announcement from the count that he would send his seconds to see the Englishman.

“This exhibition of facial emotion betrayed by the visible rush of blood to the actor’s face was frequently noted at the time.  It was a muscular trick, Mr. Mackay told me.  He put on a tight collar for the scene and strained his neck against it until the blood tame, and when he released the pressure, and the blood receded, the effect was reached.  It was a splendid moment, and it is one of the many effects that have been studied out during the progress and development of a play during rehearsals.”

It is for the great majority of such little touches, therefore, that the playwright must depend on the actor and the producer to add to his playlet.  However, the playwright may help to the limit of his ability, by giving very short, very carefully thought out directions in his manuscript.  But it is much better for the novice to disregard suggestions to the actor for character analysis and even to be sparing with his hints for facial expressions or slight movements—­and to content himself with an effort to condense his story in the broader ways.

3.  How Tediously Long Speeches may be Broken up by Movement

As the playlet is primarily action, and as the audience expects the playlet to keep moving all the time, it is a common practise to try to trick the audience into believing every speech is vibrant with emotional force, by keeping the actors moving about the stage.  But the fact that a really vital speech may be killed by a movement which distracts the attention of the audience ought to be proof positive that needless movements about the stage are merely a confession of poverty in the playlet.  Nevertheless, as a long explanatory speech seems sometimes unavoidable, I devote two or three short paragraphs to what has saved some playlets from absolute failure.