酷兔英语

章节正文
文章总共2页


villainy, and I shall be nabbed in the end. I always am. But it is

no matter, I will be a villain--ha! ha!"



On the whole, the stage villain appears to us to be a rather badly

used individual. He never has any "estates" or property himself, and



his only chance of getting on in the world is to sneak the hero's. He

has an affectionate disposition, and never having any wife of his own



he is compelled to love other people's; but his affection is ever

unrequited, and everything comes wrong for him in the end.



Our advice to stage villains generally, after careful observation of

(stage) life and (stage) human nature, is as follows:



Never be a stage villain at all if you can help it. The life is too

harassing and the remuneration altogether disproportionate to the



risks and labor.

If you have run away with the clergyman's daughter and she still



clings to you, do not throw her down in the center of the stage and

call her names. It only irritates her, and she takes a dislike to you



and goes and warns the other girl.

Don't have too many accomplices; and if you have got them, don't keep



sneering at them and bullying them. A word from them can hang you,

and yet you do all you can to rile them. Treat them civilly and let



them have their fair share of the swag.

Beware of the comic man. When you are committing a murder or robbing



a safe you never look to see where the comic man is. You are so

careless in that way. On the whole, it might be as well if you



murdered the comic man early in the play.

Don't make love to the hero's wife. She doesn't like you; how can you



expect her to? Besides, it isn't proper. Why don't you get a girl of

your own?



Lastly, don't go down to the scenes of your crimes in the last act.

You always will do this. We suppose it is some extra cheap excursion



down there that attracts you. But take our advice and don't go. That

is always where you get nabbed. The police know your habits from



experience. They do not trouble to look for you. They go down in the

last act to the old hall or the ruined mill where you did the deed and



wait for you.

In nine cases out of ten you would get off scot-free but for this



idiotic custom of yours. Do keep away from the place. Go abroad or

to the sea-side when the last act begins and stop there till it is



over. You will be safe then.

THE HEROINE.



She is always in trouble--and don't she let you know it, too! Her

life is undeniably a hard one. Nothing goes right with her. We all



have our troubles, but the stage heroine never has anything else. If

she only got one afternoon a week off from trouble or had her Sundays



free it would be something.

But no; misfortune stalks beside her from week's beginning to week's



end.

After her husband has been found guilty of murder, which is about the



least thing that can ever happen to him, and her white-haired father

has become a bankrupt and has died of a broken heart, and the home of



her childhood has been sold up, then her infant goes and contracts a

lingering fever.



She weeps a good deal during the course of her troubles, which we

suppose is only natural enough, poor woman. But it is depressing from



the point of view of the audience, and we almost wish before the

evening is out that she had not got quite so much trouble.



It is over the child that she does most of her weeping. The child has

a damp time of it altogether. We sometimes wonder that it never



catches rheumatism.

She is very good, is the stage heroine. The comic man expresses a



belief that she is a born angel. She reproves him for this with a

tearful smile (it wouldn't be her smile if it wasn't tearful).



"Oh, no," she says (sadly of course); "I have many, many faults."

We rather wish that she would show them a little more. Her excessive



goodness seems somehow to pall upon us. Our only consolation while

watching her is that there are not many good women off the stage.



Life is bad enough as it is; if there were many women in real life as

good as the stage heroine, it would be unbearable.



The stage heroine's only pleasure in life is to go out in a snow-storm

without an umbrella and with no bonnet on. She has a bonnet, we know



(rather a tasteful little thing); we have seen it hanging up behind

the door of her room; but when she comes out for a night stroll during



a heavy snow-storm (accompanied by thunder), she is most careful to

leave it at home. Maybe she fears the snow will spoil it, and she is



a careful girl.




文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文