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The scene in which Melantius draws from his friend Amintor (_The Maid's Tragedy_, Act III, Scene 2) admission of his wrongs, shows admirable use of both kinds of description--of oneself and of another person.
_Melantius._ You may shape, Amintor, Causes to cozen the whole world withall, And you yourselfe too; but tis not like a friend To hide your soule from me. Tis not your nature To be thus idle: I have seene you stand As you were blasted midst of all your mirth; Call thrice aloud, and then start, faining joy So coldly!--World, what doe I here? a friend Is nothing! Heaven, I would ha told that man My secret sinnes! Ile search an unknowne land, And there plant friends.h.i.+p; all is withered here.
Come with a complement! I would have fought, Or told my friend a lie, ere soothed him so.
Out of my bosome!
_Amintor._ But there is nothing.
_Mel._ Worse and worse! farewell.
From this time have acquaintance, but no friend.
_Amin._ Melantius, stay; you shall know what that is.
_Mel._ See; how you plaid with friends.h.i.+p! be advis'd How you give cause unto yourselfe to say You ha lost a friend.
_Amin._ Forgive what I ha done; For I am so oregone with injuries Unheard of, that I lose consideration Of what I ought to doe.--Oh!--Oh!
_Mel._ Doe not weepe.
What ist? May I once but know the man Hath turn'd my friend thus!
_Amin._ I had spoke at first, But that--
_Mel._ But what?
_Amin._ I held it most unfit For you to know. Faith, doe not know it yet.
_Mel._ Thou seest my love, that will keepe company With thee in teares; hide nothing, then, from me; For when I know the cause of thy distemper, With mine old armour Ile adorn myselfe, My resolution, and cut through my foes, Unto thy quiet, till I place thy heart As peaceable as spotless innocence.
What is it?
_Amin._ Why, tis this--it is too bigge To get out--let my teares make way awhile.
_Mel._ Punish me strangely, Heaven, if he escape Of life or fame, that brought this youth to this.[42]
The cry with which Electra turns to her peasant husband in the play of Euripides is perhaps as fine an instance as there is of natural description by one person of her relations to another.
_Peasant._ What wouldst thou now, my sad one, ever fraught With toil to lighten my toil? And so soft Thy nurture was! Have I not chid thee oft, And thou wilt cease not, serving without end?
_Electra._ (_Turning to him with impulsive affection._) O friend, my friend, as G.o.d might be my friend, Thou only hast not trampled on my tears.
Life scarce can be so hard, 'mid many fears And many shames, when mortal heart can find Somewhere one healing touch, as my sick mind Finds thee.... And should I wait thy word, to endure A little for thine easing, yea, or pour My strength out in thy toiling fellows.h.i.+p?
Thou hast enough with fields and kine to keep; 'Tis mine to make all bright within the door.
'Tis joy to him that toils, when toil is o'er, To find home waiting, full of happy things.
_Peasant._ If so it please thee, go thy way.[43]
Unquestionably, however, the best method of characterization is by action. In the first draft of Ibsen's _A Doll's House_, Krogstad uses with his employer Helmar, because he is an old school fellow, the familiar "tu." This under the circ.u.mstance ill.u.s.trates his tactlessness better than any amount of description. When Helmar is irritated by this familiarity, his petty vanity is perfectly ill.u.s.trated. Any one who recalls the last scene of _Louis XI_ as played by the late Sir Henry Irving remembers vividly the restless, greedily moving fingers of the praying King. They told far more than words. The way in which Mrs.
Lindon, throughout the opening scene of Clyde Fitch's _The Truth_,[44]
touches any small article she finds in her way perfectly indicates her fluttering nervousness.
_At Mrs. Warder's.... A smart, good-looking man-servant, Jenks, shows in Mrs. Lindon and Laura Fraser. The former is a handsome, nervous, overstrung woman of about thirty-four, very fas.h.i.+onably dressed; Miss Fraser, on the contrary, a matter-of-fact, rather commonplace type of good humor--wholesomeness united to a kind of sense of humor....
Mrs. Lindon nervously picks up check-book from the writing-table, looks at it but not in it, and puts it down....
She opens the cigar box on the writing-table behind her and then bangs it shut....
She picks up stamp box and bangs it down.
Rises and goes to mantel, looking at the fly-leaves of two books on a table which she pa.s.ses._
Does not the action of this extract from Middleton's _A Chaste Maid in Cheapside_ help most in depicting the greed and dishonesty of Yellowhammer, as well as the humor and ingenuity of the suitor?
_Touchwood junior._ (_Aside._) 'Twere a good mirth now to set him a-work To make her wedding-ring; I must about it: Rather than the gain should fall to a stranger, 'Twas honesty in me t' enrich my father.
_Yellowhammer._ (_Aside._) The girl is wondrous peevish. I fear nothing But that she's taken with some other love, Then all's quite dashed: that must be narrowly looked to; We cannot be too wary in our children.-- What is't you lack?
_Touch. jun._ O, nothing now; all that I wish is present: I'd have a wedding-ring made for a gentlewoman With all speed that may be.
_Yel._ Of what weight, sir?
_Touch. jun._ Of some half ounce, stand fair And comely with the spark of a diamond; Sir, 'twere pity to lose the least grace.
_Yel._ Pray, let's see it. (_Takes stone from Touchwood junior._) Indeed, sir 'tis a pure one.
_Touch. jun._ So is the mistress.
_Yel._ Have you the wideness of her finger, sir?
_Touch. jun._ Yes, sure, I think I have her measure about me: Good faith, 'tis down, I cannot show it to you; I must pull too many things out to be certain.
Let me see--long and slender, and neatly jointed; Just such another gentlewoman--that's your daughter, sir?
_Yel._ And therefore, sir, no gentlewoman.
_Touch. jun._ I protest.
I ne'er saw two maids handed more alike; I'll ne'er seek farther, if you'll give me leave, sir.
_Yel._ If you dare venture by her finger, sir.
_Touch. jun._ Ay, and I'll bide all loss, sir.
_Yel._ Say you so, sir?
Let us see.--Hither, girl.
_Touch. jun._ Shall I make bold With your finger, gentlewoman?
_Moll._ Your pleasure, sir.
_Touch. jun._ That fits her to a hair, sir.
(_Trying ring on Moll's finger._)
_Yel._ What's your posy, now, sir?
