If you ever read your _Shakspeare_--and no dramatist should despise the
works of another dramatist; he may always pick up something in them
which may be useful for his next play--if you ever read your
_Shakspeare_, it is possible that you have come across this passage:--
"_Enter_ Hamlet.
_Ham._ To be, or not to be----"
And so on in the same vein for some thirty lines.
These few remarks are called a soliloquy, being addressed rather to the
world in general than to any particular person on the stage. Now the
object of this soliloquy is plain. The dramatist wished us to know the
thoughts which were passing through _Hamlet's_ mind, and it was the only
way he could think of in which to do it. Of course a really good actor
can often give a clue to the feelings of a character simply by facial
expression. There are ways of shifting the eyebrows, distending the
nostrils, and exploring the lower molars with the tongue by which it is
possible to denote respectively Surprise, Defiance and Doubt. Indeed,
irresolution being the keynote of _Hamlet's_ soliloquy, a clever player
could to some extent indicate the whole thirty lines by a silent working
of the jaw. But at the same time it would be idle to deny that he would
miss the finer shades of the poet's meaning. "The insolence of office,
and the spurns"--to take only one line--would tax the most elastic face.
So the soliloquy came into being. We moderns, however, see the absurdity
of it. In real life no one thinks aloud or in an empty room. The
up-to-date dramatist must at all costs avoid this hall-mark of the
old-fashioned play.
What, then, is to be done? If it be granted, first, that the thoughts of
a certain character should be known to the audience, and, secondly, that
soliloquy, or the habit of thinking aloud, is in opposition to modern
stage technique, how shall a soliloquy be avoided without damage to the
play?
Well, there are more ways than one; and now we come to what is meant by
stage-craft. Stage-craft is the art of getting over these difficulties,
and (if possible) getting over them in a showy manner, so that people
will say, "How remarkable his stage-craft is for so young a writer,"
when otherwise they mightn't have noticed it at all. Thus, in this play
we have been talking about, an easy way of avoiding _Hamlet's_ soliloquy
would be for _Ophelia_ to speak first.
_Oph._ What are you thinking about, my lord?
_Ham._ I am wondering whether to be or not to be, whether 'tis nobler in
the mind to suffer----
And so on, till you get to the end, when _Ophelia_ might say, "Ah, yes,"
or something non-committal of that sort. This would be an easy way of
doing it, but it would not be the best way, for the reason that it is
too easy to call attention to itself. What you want is to make it clear
that you are conveying _Hamlet's_ thoughts to the audience in rather a
clever manner.
That this can now be done we have to thank the well-known inventor of
the telephone. (I forget his name.) The telephone has revolutionised the
stage; with its aid you can convey anything you like across the
footlights. In the old badly-made play it was frequently necessary for
one of the characters to take the audience into his confidence. "Having
disposed of my uncle's body," he would say to the stout lady in the
third row of the stalls, "I now have leisure in which to search for the
will. But first to lock the door lest I should be interrupted by Harold
Wotnott." In the modern well-constructed play he simply rings up an
imaginary confederate and tells him what he is going to do. Could
anything be more natural?
Let us, to give an example of how this method works, go back again to
the play we have been discussing.
_Enter_ Hamlet. _He walks quickly across the room to the telephone, and
takes up the receiver impatiently._
_Ham._ Hallo! Hallo! I want double-nine--hal-_lo_! I want double-nine
two--hal-_lo_! Double-nine two three, Elsinore ... Double-_nine_, yes
... Hallo, is that you, Horatio? Hamlet speaking. Er--to be or not to
be, that is the question; whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the
slings and arrows---- What? No, _Hamlet_ speaking. _What?_ Aren't you
Horatio? I want double-nine two three----sorry.... Is that you,
exchange? You gave me double-_five_, I want double-_nine_ ... Hallo,
is that you, Horatio? Hamlet speaking. To be or not to be, that is
the---- What? No, I said, To _be_ or _not_ to be ... No, '_be_'--b-e.
Yes, that's right. To be or not to be, that is the question; whether
'tis nobler----
And so on. You see how effective it is.
But there is still another way of avoiding the soliloquy, which is
sometimes used with good results. It is to let _Hamlet_, if that happens
to be the name of your character, enter with a small dog, pet falcon,
mongoose, tame bear or whatever animal is most in keeping with the part,
and confide in this animal such sorrows, hopes or secret history as the
audience has got to know. This has the additional advantage of putting
the audience immediately in sympathy with your hero. "How _sweet_ of
him," all the ladies say, "to tell his little bantam about it!"
If you are not yet tired (as I am) of the _Prince of Denmark_, I will
explain (for the last time) how a modern author might re-write his
speech.
_Enter_ Hamlet _with his favourite boar-hound._
_Ham. (to B.-H.)_ To be or not to be--ah, Fido, Fido! That is the
question--eh, old Fido, boy? Whether 'tis nobler in--how now, a rat!
Rats, Fido, _fetch_ 'em--in the mind to suffer The slings and--_down_,
Sir!--arrows--put it down! Arrows of--_drop_ it, Fido; good old dog----
And so on. Which strikes me as rather sweet and natural.