“It's ruined, Mr. Tinker!” he moaned, and his accompanying gesture was misleading, seeming to indicate that he alluded3 to his hair. “It's all ruined if he sticks to these horrible lines he's put in—people told me I ought to have it in my contract that nothing could be changed. I was trying to make the audience see the tragedy of egoism in my play—and how people get to hating an egoist. I made 'Roderick Hanscom' a disagreeable character on purpose, and—oh, listen to that!”
Miss Ellsling and Talbot Potter stood alone, near the front of the stage. “Why do you waste such goodness on me, Roderick?” Miss Ellsling was inquiring. “It is noble and I feel that I am unworthy of you.”
“No, Mildred, believe me,” Potter read from his manuscript, “I would rather decline the nomination4 and abandon my career, and go to live in some quiet spot far from all this, than that you should know one single moment's unhappiness, for you mean far more to me than worldly success.” He kissed her hand with reverence5, and lifted his head slowly, facing the audience with rapt gaze; his wonderful smile—that ineffable6 smile of abnegation and benignity—just beginning to dawn.
Coming from behind him, and therefore unable to see his face, Miss Wanda Malone advanced in her character of ingenue, speaking with an effect of gayety: “Now what are you two good people conspiring7 about?”
Potter stamped the floor; there was wrenched8 from him an incoherent shriek9 containing fragments of profane10 words and ending distinguishably with: “It's that Missmiss again!”
Packer impelled11 himself upon Miss Malone, pushing her back. “No, no, no!” he cried. “Count ten! Count ten before you come down with that speech. You mustn't interrupt Mr. Potter, Miss—Miss—”
“It was my cue,” she said composedly, showing her little pamphlet of typewritten manuscript. “Wasn't I meant to speak on the cue?”
Talbot Potter recovered himself sufficiently12 to utter a cry of despair: “And these are the kind of people an artist must work with!” He lifted his arms to heaven, calling upon the high gods for pity; then, with a sudden turn of fury, ran to the back of the stage and came mincing13 forward evidently intending saturnine14 mimicry15, repeating the ingenue's speech in a mocking falsetto: “Now what are you two good people conspiring about?” After that he whirled upon her, demanding with ferocity: “You've got something you can think with in your head, haven't you, Missmiss? Then what do you think of that?”
Miss Malone smiled, and it was a smile that would have gone a long way at a college dance. Here, it made the pitying company shudder16 for her. “I think it's a silly, makeshift sort of a speech,” she said cheerfully, in which opinion the unhappy playwright17 out in the audience hotly agreed. “It's a bit of threadbare archness, and if I were to play Miss Lyston's part, I'd be glad to have it changed!”
Potter looked dazed. “Is it your idea,” he said in a ghostly voice, “that I was asking for your impression of the dramatic and literary value of that line?”
She seemed surprised. “Weren't you?”
It was too much for Potter. He had brilliant and unusual powers of expression, but this was beyond them. He went to the chair beside the little table, flung himself upon it, his legs outstretched, his arms dangling18 inert19, and stared haggardly upward at nothing.
“Miss Malone,” she prompted.
“You interrupted the smile, Miss Malone. Mr. Potter gives them the smile there. You must count ten for it, after your cue. Ten—slow. Count slow. Mark it on your sides, Miss—ah—Miss. 'Count ten for smile. Write it down please, Miss—Miss—”
Potter spoke21 wearily. “Be kind enough to let me know, Packer, when you and Missmiss can bring yourselves to permit this rehearsal to continue.”
“All ready, sir,” said Packer briskly. “All ready now, Mr. Potter.” And upon the star's limply rising, Miss Ellsling, most tactful of leading women, went back to his cue with a change of emphasis in her reading that helped to restore him somewhat to his poise22. “It is noble,” she repeated, “and I feel that I am unworthy of you!”
Counting ten slowly proved to be the proper deference23 to the smile, and Miss Malone was allowed to come down the stage and complete, undisturbed, her ingenue request to know what the two good people were conspiring about. Thereafter the rehearsal went on in a strange, unreal peace like that of a prairie noon in the cyclone24 season.
“Notice that girl?” old Tinker muttered, as Wanda Malone finished another ingenue question with a light laugh, as commanded by her manuscript. “She's frightened but she's steady.”
“What girl?” Canby was shampooing himself feverishly25 and had little interest in girls. “I made it a disagreeable character because—”
“I mean the one he's letting out on—Malone,” said Tinker. “Didn't you notice her voice? Her laugh reminds me of Fanny Caton's—and Dora Preston's—”
“Oh, nobody you'd remember; some old-time actresses that had their day—and died—long ago. This girl's voice made me think of them.”
“She may, she may,” said Canby hurriedly. “Mr. Tinker, the play is ruined. He's tangled27 the whole act up so that I can't tell what it's about myself. Instead of Roderick Hanscom's being a man that people dislike for his conceit28 and selfishness he's got him absolutely turned round. I oughtn't to allow it—but everything's so different from what I thought it would be! He doesn't seem to know I'm here. I came prepared to read the play to the company; I thought he'd want me to.”
“Oh, no,” said Tinker. “He never does that.”
“Why not?”
“Wastes time, for one thing. The actors don't listen except when their own parts are being read.”
“Good gracious!”
“Their own parts are all they have to look out for,” the old man informed him dryly. “I've known actors to play a long time in parts that didn't appear in the last act, and they never know how the play ended.”
“Good gracious!”
“Never cared, either,” Tinker added.
“Good gr—”
“Sh! He's breaking out again!”
A shriek of agony came from the stage. “Pack-e-r-r-! Where did you find this Missmiss understudy? Can't you get me people of experience? I really cannot bear this kind of thing—I can not!” And Potter flung himself upon the chair, leaving the slight figure in black standing29 alone in the centre of the stage. He sprang up again, however, surprisingly, upon the very instant of despairing collapse30. “What do you mean by this perpetual torture of me?” he wailed31 at her. “Don't you know what you did?”
“No, Mr. Potter.” She looked at him bravely, but she began to grow red.
“You don't?” he cried incredulously. “You don't know what you did? You moved! How are they going to get my face if you move? Don't you know enough to hold a picture and not ruin it by moving?”
“There was a movement written for that cue,” she said, a little tremulously. “The business in the script is, 'Showing that she is touched by Roderick's nobleness, lifts handkerchief impulsive32 gesture to eyes.'”
“Not,” he shouted, “not during the SMILE!”
“Oh!” she cried remorsefully33. “Have I done that again?”
“'Again!' I don't know how many times you've done it!” He flung his arms wide, with hands outspread and fingers vibrating. “You do it every time you get the chance! You do it perpetually! You don't do anything else! It's all you live for!”
He hurled34 his manuscript violently at the table, Packer making a wonderful pick-up catch of it just as it touched the floor.
“Ten o'clock to-morrow morning, ladies and gentlemen!” Packer called immediately, with brisk cheerfulness. “Please notice: to-morrow's rehearsal is in the morning. Ten o'clock to-morrow morning!”
“Tell the understudy to wait, Packer,” said the star abysmally37, and Packer addressed himself to the departing backs of the company:
“Mr. Potter wants to speak to Miss—Miss—”
“Malone,” prompted the owner of the name, without resentment38.
“Wait a moment, Miss Malone,” said Potter, looking up wearily. “Is Mr. Tinker anywhere about?”
“I'm here, Mr. Potter.” Tinker came forward to the orchestra railing.
“I've been thinking about this play, Mr. Tinker,” Potter said, shaking his head despondently39. “I don't know about it. I'm very, very doubtful about it.” He peered over Tinker's head, squinting40 his eyes, and seemed for the first time to be aware of the playwright's presence. “Oh, are you there, Mr. Canby? When did you come in?”
“I've been here all the time,” said the dishevelled Canby, coming forward. “I supposed it was my business to be here, but-”
“Very glad to have you if you wish,” Potter interrupted gloomily. “Any time. Any time you like. I was just telling Mr. Tinker that I don't know about your play. I don't know if it'll do at all.”
“If you'd play it,” Canby began, “the way I wrote it—”
“In the first place,” Potter said with sudden vehemence41, “it lacks Punch! Where's your Punch in this play, Mr. Canby? Where is there any Punch whatever in the whole four acts? Surely, after this rehearsal, you don't mean to claim that the first act has one single ounce of Punch in it!”
“But you've twisted this act all round,” the unhappy young man protested. “The way you have it I can't tell what it's got to it. I meant Roderick Hanscom to be a disagr—”
“Mr. Canby,” said the star, rising impressively, “if we played that act the way you wrote it, we'd last just about four minutes of the opening night. You gave me absolutely nothing to do! Other people talked at me and I had to stand there and be talked at for twenty minutes straight, like a blithering ninny!”
“Well, as you have it, the other actors have to stand there like ninnies,” poor Canby retorted miserably42, “while you talk at them almost the whole time.”
“My soul!” Potter struck the table with the palm of his hand. “Do you think anybody's going to pay two dollars to watch me listen to my company for three hours? No, my dear man, your play's got to give me something to do! You'll have to rewrite the second and third acts. I've done what I could for the first, but, good God! Mr. Canby, I can't write your whole play for you! You'll have to get some Punch into it or we'll never be able to go on with it.”
“I don't know what you mean,” said the playwright helplessly. “I never did know what people mean by Punch.”
“Punch? It's what grips 'em,” Potter returned with vehemence. “Punch is what keeps 'em sitting on the edge of their seats. Big love scenes! They've got Punch. Or a big scene with a man. Give me a big scene with a man.” He illustrated43 his meaning with startling intensity44, crouching45 and seizing an imaginary antagonist46 by the throat, shaking him and snarling47 between his clenched48 teeth, while his own throat swelled49 and reddened: “Now, damn you! You dog! So on, so on, so on! Zowie!” Suddenly his figure straightened. “Then change. See?” He became serene50, almost august. “'No! I will not soil these hands with you. So on, so on, so on. I give you your worthless life. Go!'” He completed his generosity51 by giving Canby and Tinker the smile, after which he concluded much more cheerfully: “Something like that, Mr. Canby, and we'll have some real Punch in your play.”
“But there isn't any chance for that kind of a scene in it,” the playwright objected. “It's the study of an egoist, a disagree—”
“There!” exclaimed Potter. “That's it! Do you think people are going to pay two dollars to see Talbot Potter behave like a cad? They won't do it; they pay two dollars to see me as I am—not pretending to be the kind of man your 'Roderick Hanscom' was. No, Mr. Canby, I accepted your play because it has got quite a fair situation in the third act, and because I thought I saw a chance in it to keep some of the strength of 'Roderick Hanscom' and yet make him lovable.”
“But, great heavens! if you make him lovable the character's ruined. Besides, the audience won't want to see him lose the girl at the end and 'Donald Grey' get her!”
“No, they won't; that's it exactly,” said Potter thoughtfully. “You'll have to fix that, Mr. Canby. 'Roderick Hanscom' will have to win her by a great sacrifice in the last act. A great, strong, lovable man, Mr. Canby; that's the kind of character I want to play: a big, sweet, lovable fellow, with the heart of a child, that makes a great sacrifice for a woman. I don't want to play 'egoists'; I don't want to play character parts. No.” He shook his head musingly52, and concluded, the while a light of ineffable sweetness shone from his remarkable53 eyes: “Mr. Canby, no! My audience comes to see Talbot Potter. You go over these other acts and write the part so that I can play myself.”
The playwright gazed upon him, inarticulate, and Potter, shaking himself slightly, like one aroused from a pleasant little reverie, turned to the waiting figure of the girl.
“What is it, Miss Malone?” he asked mildly. “Did you want to speak to me?”
“You told Mr. Packer to ask me to wait,” she said.
“Did I? Oh, yes, so I did. If you please, take off your hat and veil, Miss Malone?”
She gave him a startled look; then, without a word, slowly obeyed.
“Ah, yes,” he said a moment later. “We'll find something else for Miss Lyston when she recovers. You will keep the part.”
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1
rehearsal
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| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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nomination
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| n.提名，任命，提名权 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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conspiring
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| 密谋( conspire的现在分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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mincing
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| adj.矫饰的；v.切碎；切碎 | |
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saturnine
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| adj.忧郁的，沉默寡言的，阴沉的，感染铅毒的 | |
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mimicry
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| n.（生物）拟态，模仿 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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playwright
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| n.剧作家，编写剧本的人 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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cyclone
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| n.旋风，龙卷风 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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remorsefully
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| adv.极为懊悔地 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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abysmally
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| adv.极糟地；可怕地；完全地；极端地 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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despondently
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| adv.沮丧地，意志消沉地 | |
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40
squinting
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| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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44
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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45
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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47
snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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50
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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51
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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52
musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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53
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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