Dramatis Personæ
Captain Price: Retired sea-captain, big, bluff, and hearty, with white hair and big white mustachios, rather untidy as to dress. Age, about 68.
Cyrus Price: His son, weak and neat-looking, very thin and of sandy complexion. Age, about 35.
Mrs. North: Sprightly, pretty, white-haired little lady of about 65. Always in black silk.
Miss North: Her daughter, nervous and shy, but truthful with a mania for taking care of her mother and no knowledge of how to wear her clothes; about 40.
Mrs. Gussie Price: A stout, colorless blond, a weeping, vividly gowned lady, who rules her husband, Cyrus, through her tears. Age, about 30.
Flora: A colored maid.
The danger is shown to the utmost in the following. The characterization in the scenario to which this was prefixed was practically nil.
Forsythe Savile: A young lawyer of about thirty, clever, and rather versatile. While of great promise in his profession, he is not at all pedantic, but has many interests. He is well-read, widely travelled, fond of outdoor sports, and is very popular. Perhaps his most prominent characteristic is his ready wit. He is rarely non-plussed, and while quick and pointed in his remarks, is yet not ill-natured with them. He has been Dennings’ most intimate friend ever since they were in college together, although their lives lie along very divergent lines.
Richard Dennings: A globe trotter, as a hunter, explorer, and war-correspondent. He is clever and able, with a tendency to act on impulse rather than after deliberation. He is the closest kind of friend to Forsythe. He has been engaged to Frances Langdon, but the engagement has been broken off. This last fact is not known to any save the two themselves.
Judge Savile: A widower, and Forsythe’s father. He has been a very successful man, and holds a high place in his profession. He is devoted to books, and cannot understand his son’s taste for out-of-door life, and athletics in general. He philosophically accepts the inevitable, however, and is very proud of Forsythe. The Judge does not approve of the engagement of Frances Langdon to Dennings; he cannot understand Dennings’ uncertain methods of life. The Judge while saying very little of his opinion foresees that matters are very far from being finally settled, and is quietly awaiting developments.
Margaret Savile: Forsythe’s younger sister, and a feminine edition of him. She is very pretty, bright, and attractive. She and Forsythe are most intimate, more so than brother and sister usually are.
Frances Langdon: An intimate friend of Margaret, and familiarly known as “Frank.” She is essentially feminine, attractive, witty and talented. She is very nervous and high-strung—a strong character, but susceptible to her feelings. She has known the Saviles since she was a child and is considered exactly as a relative. She has broken her engagement to Richard Dennings.
A butler: The usual English type.
That list tells so much about the characters that the scenario proper could do little but repeat. The writer, troubled by his sense of repetition, rested for his characterization on the slight chance that a reader would remember every detail of the dramatis personæ. All that a reader needs to know at the outset of a scenario is who the characters are, and, in the broadest way, their relations to one another.
A list of dramatis personæ should be followed with a statement of the time and place if they are important, and of the settings for all the acts. A detailed description of each new setting should precede its scene or act.4 In the scenarios already quoted notice how difficult it is to place the characters as far as setting is concerned and how much would be gained if a good description of the setting were added. Keep the description of a setting to essentials, that is, furniture and decorations necessary to give requisite atmosphere or required in the action of the piece. As always in scenarios and acting editions use “left” and “right” as “left” and “right” of the actor, not of the audience.
THE SIRE DE MALETROIT’S DOOR (See p. 428)
SCENE: A large room in the house of the Sire de Maletroit; large fireplace at centre back; curtained door on left leads to stairway; curtained door right leads to chapel. The room is well illuminated by candles, reflecting the polish of stone walls. It is scantily furnished.
THE LEGACY (See p. 464)
THE SCENE: The Brice living-room comfortably furnished in walnut. A piano centre L., a round table, rear R. Four entrances: upper L., rear centre, upper right, right centre. Curtained windows rear R. & L.
As has already been pointed out earlier in this book, it is wholly unwise to call, in a description of a setting, for details not really necessary. Here is the setting for the dramatis personæ quoted on p. 431. It is over-elaborate because the action of the proposed play involves use of hardly any of the properties called for.
SCENE: Forsythe Savile’s “den.” It is an odd room, a curious mixture of library, smoking-room, and museum. On the right is a large fireplace, over which are hung an elk’s head, a couple of rifles, queer-looking Eastern weapons, and other sporting trophies and evidences of travel. The room is panelled in dark oak; low bookcases line the walls, and on top of the cases are small bronzes, photographs, strange bits of bric-à-brac, and a medley of things,—such truck as a man with cultivated tastes would insist on accumulating. There are numerous pictures, a rather heterogeneous lot; valuable engravings,—portraits of famous lights of the bench and the bar, to judge by their wigs,—a few oils of the Meissonier type; and others which are obviously relics of college, with medals slung across them by brightly coloured ribbons. The furniture of the room is of heavy oak, upholstered in dull crimson leather. Capacious club armchairs are in convenient places, near lamps and books. Around the hearth is a high English fender, and before it is a great Davenport sofa. On the left, is a broad-topped table-desk, covered with papers and books, and bearing a squat bronze lamp with a crimson shade. At one end of the Davenport is a low cabinet, on which are glasses and decanters. There is a wide doorway at the back of the stage which gives the only entrance and is hung with heavy crimson portières. The centre of the floor is filled by a huge polar bear-skin rug, with massive head and the odd spaces are covered by smaller fur rugs. The stage is dark, save for the uncertain, wavering light cast by the wood fire.
Time: The present, and about half-past eight on a winter evening.
A sketch of the desired arrangement of the stage should be prefixed to the description of the setting. This may be as simple as comports with clear picturing of the exact conditions required. Such drawings not only help to clearness, they sometimes bring out difficulties in a proposed setting not at once evident in a description. Perhaps the staging called for in what immediately follows may not seem over-elaborate in the reading. A diagram at once shows its awkwardness, expensiveness, and undesirability.
THE SIRE DE MALETROIT’S DOOR
The scene represents a mediæval outer hall of a powerful nobleman of Paris with the approach thereto, the streets adjacent and several other buildings thereon, at 11.30 P.M., the streets in semi-darkness. This hall runs clear down the stage to within the width of a narrow street of the footlights. This street is supposed to run clear across the stage. The approach to the hall from without is through two doors left which open into a gloomy passageway large enough to contain a dozen soldiers. The door to the left of these two entrances opens inward from the street running up left at right angles to the street by the footlights, leaving room enough at the extreme left for several doorways which should be set into the houses so as to form a place sufficient to hide a man who was being searched for on the sidewalk. At the extreme rear of the street going up the stage is stone pavement. The walls of the palace are of thick stones and the furnishings of the hall are plain and gloomy consisting of chairs and a table, a tall clock with a loud tick, curtains at the doors; and over the fireplace, which is huge, hang a shield and helmet, the former emblazoned with the device of the family, the latter beplumed, while under them are two long swords, crossed, with their points hidden behind the shield, these blades both in their scabbards. The floors are all of stone.
At the right of the fireplace are two wide doors which when opened give a full view of the chapel beyond, with the attar to the rear in the centre. The chapel need show no more than a private altar, the accompanying candles, drapery, and steps, lighted with a single hanging lamp of the period that swings before the first step of the altar.
The chairs and table in the hall are of mission style. The doors opening on the street from all of the establishments are very wide, embossed in iron bands and supplied with knockers, heavy bolts and bars on the inside wherever the inside is exposed. There is a large fire in the fireplace. A lamp of the period is swung with heavy chains over the table.
The diagram on the next page shows how this would look.
It is in many ways a bad setting. Waiving all question whether any attempt to suggest the fourth wall of a room, as in The Passing of the Third Floor Back by the fireplace at centre front of stage is wise, surely there can be no doubt that to ask an audience to imagine a street between them and the room into which they are looking, particularly when no necessary action takes place in that street, is undesirable. Therefore the suggested “street” across the front of the stage may go. Where is the value of the street at the side? Little, if any, action in it will be seen except by the very small part of the audience directly in line with it. For these the settings below the doors at stage left must be decidedly pushed back or they will lose important action by the fireplace. It is questionable, too, whether the fireplace should not be moved down stage to one side or the other, so important is the facial expression of the Sire de Maletroit as he sits by it. For effective action, it is better, also, to separate fireplace and chapel entrance. It is both easy and for acting purposes better, to stage this proposed play with a setting as simple as this:
Gothic stone interior: Doors, centre leading to Chapel or Oratory; lower right and up left. All doors with old tapestry curtains. Deep mullioned window up right with landscape backing. Large Gothic fireplace, with hooded chimney, left. Corridor backings for all doors. Large armchair left centre in front of fireplace; large oak table right centre, with chairs on either side; other furniture of period to dress stage. Altar and furnishings for Chapel.
Nowadays descriptions of settings are noticeably free from the mystic R.U.E., L. 2 E., D.L.C., etc., which characterized stage directions of the early Victorian period. When wings and flats, as in some wood-scenes today, were used for indoor as well as outdoor scenes—that is, before the coming of the box-set—the stage was divided in this way:
Now that the box-set has replaced the older fashion and new devices are steadily improving on the old wood-wings, it is enough to indicate clearly in the diagram and in the description what doors, windows, fireplaces, and properties are necessary, and exactly where, if their positions are essential in the action. If not, they may be placed to suit the sense of proportion of the designer of the scenery and the sense of fitness of the producer. In any case, rarely today does an author need to use all or many of these stage divisions of an older day. The first of the following diagrams shows how simply an interior set which makes no special demands may be indicated.