r alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men,--good! but thanked
Somehow--I know not how--as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech--(which I have not)--to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, 'Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the mark'--and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse,
--E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will 't please you rise? We'll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!

--BROWNING.

Our last form for interpretative vocal study is the play. We shall
discover that the presentation of the play makes the same demands upon
the interpreter as the monologue with the new element of _transition_.
We are still studying the monologue, because we are to read, not act,
the play. It is still suggestive, not actualized impersonation. But
instead of one character to suggestively set forth we have two, three, a
dozen to present. The transition from character to character becomes our
one new problem. As we have said before, in making the transition from
character to character, voice, mind, and body must be so volatile that
the action of the play shall not be interrupted. I know of no better
way to enter upon the study of a play for reading (or acting) than to
treat each character as the speaker in a monologue of the Browning type.
The danger in transition from character to character centers in the
instant's pause when one speaker yields to another. The unskilful reader
loses both characters at this point and becomes conscious of himself;
the action of the play stops; and the illusion of scene