task were practically finished when he arrives 
at the point when he finds himself prepared to begin the writing of his 
dialogue. This accounts for the otherwise unaccountable rapidity with 
which many of the great plays of the world have been written. Dumas 
fils retired to the country and wrote _La Dame aux Camélias_--a 
four-act play--in eight successive days. But he had previously told the 
same story in a novel; he knew everything that was to happen in his 
play; and the mere writing could be done in a single headlong dash. 
Voltaire's best tragedy, _Zaïre_, was written in three weeks. Victor 
Hugo composed Marion Delorme between June 1 and June 24, 1829; 
and when the piece was interdicted by the censor, he immediately 
turned to another subject and wrote Hernani in the next three weeks. 
The fourth act of Marion Delorme was written in a single day. Here 
apparently was a very fever of composition. But again we must 
remember that both of these plays had been devised before the author 
began to write them; and when he took his pen in hand he had already 
been working on them in scenario for probably a year. To write ten acts 
in Alexandrines, with feminine rhymes alternating with masculine, was 
still, to be sure, an appalling task; but Hugo was a facile and prolific 
poet, and could write very quickly after he had determined exactly what 
it was he had to write. 
It was with all of the foregoing points in mind that, in the opening 
sentence of this chapter, I defined a play as a story "devised," rather 
than a story "written." We may now consider the significance of the 
next phrase of that definition, which states that a play is devised to be 
"presented," rather than to be "read." 
The only way in which it is possible to study most of the great plays of 
bygone ages is to read the record of their dialogue; and this necessity 
has led to the academic fallacy of considering great plays primarily as 
compositions to be read. In their own age, however, these very plays 
which we now read in the closet were intended primarily to be 
presented on the stage. Really to read a play requires a very special and
difficult exercise of visual imagination. It is necessary not only to 
appreciate the dialogue, but also to project before the mind's eye a vivid 
imagined rendition of the visual aspect of the action. This is the reason 
why most managers and stage-directors are unable to judge 
conclusively the merits and defects of a new play from reading it in 
manuscript. One of our most subtle artists in stage-direction, Mr. Henry 
Miller, once confessed to the present writer that he could never decide 
whether a prospective play was good or bad until he had seen it 
rehearsed by actors on a stage. Mr. Augustus Thomas's unusually 
successful farce entitled _Mrs. Leffingwell's Boots_ was considered a 
failure by its producing managers until the very last rehearsals, because 
it depended for its finished effect on many intricate and rapid 
intermovements of the actors, which until the last moment were 
understood and realised only in the mind of the playwright. The same 
author's best and most successful play, The Witching Hour, was 
declined by several managers before it was ultimately accepted for 
production; and the reason was, presumably, that its extraordinary 
merits were not manifest from a mere reading of the lines. If 
professional producers may go so far astray in their judgment of the 
merits of a manuscript, how much harder must it be for the layman to 
judge a play solely from a reading of the dialogue! 
This fact should lead the professors and the students in our colleges to 
adopt a very tentative attitude toward judging the dramatic merits of the 
plays of other ages. Shakespeare, considered as a poet, is so 
immeasurably superior to Dryden, that it is difficult for the college 
student unfamiliar with the theatre to realise that the former's Antony 
and Cleopatra is, considered solely as a play, far inferior to the latter's 
dramatisation of the same story, entitled _All for Love, or The World 
Well Lost_. Shakespeare's play upon this subject follows closely the 
chronology of Plutarch's narrative, and is merely dramatised history; 
but Dryden's play is reconstructed with a more practical sense of 
economy and emphasis, and deserves to be regarded as historical drama. 
Cymbeline is, in many passages, so greatly written that it is hard for the 
closet-student to realise that it is a bad play, even when considered 
from the standpoint of the Elizabethan theatre,--whereas Othello and 
Macbeth, for instance, are great plays, not only of their age but for all 
time. King Lear is probably a more sublime poem than _Othello_; and
it is    
    
		
	
	
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