Part 23 (1/2)

All these aims will be developed, more or less together, and be in direct relation to all the elements of expression.

Metre is a difficult subject in which to lay down general principles, lest they become artificial rules. Every poem that is really great shows something new in the way of combining imperfect feet, and the student must study the movement for himself.

Many will be tempted to ask, ”What has metre to do with the monologue?” It is true that metre belongs to all poetry, but the monologue has some specific and peculiar uses of metre, and, more than any other form of poetry except the poetic drama, demands the living voice. Hence a few suggestions are necessary at this point upon this much neglected and misconceived subject.

To understand the relation of metre to the monologue, it should be held in mind that metre is far more flexible and free in dramatic than in lyric poetry. In lyric poetry it is usually more regular and partakes of the nature of song; but in dramatic poetry it is more changeable and bears more resemblance to the rhythm of speech. In the lyric, metre expresses a mood, and mood as a permanent condition of feeling necessitates a more regular rhythm; but in dramatic poetry, metre expresses the pulse-beat of one character in contact with another. It must respond to all the sudden changes of thought and feeling.

The difference between the metre of Keats or Sh.e.l.ley or Chaucer and that of Shakespeare or of Browning is not wholly one of personality. It is often due to a difference in the theme discussed and in the spirit of their poetry.

So important is the understanding of metre to the right appreciation of any exalted poetic monologue, that in general, unless the interpreter thoroughly masters the subject of metre, he is unprepared to render anything but so-called monologues on the lowest plane of farce and vaudeville art.

Very close to the subject of metre is length of line. A long line is more stately, a short line more abrupt, pa.s.sional, and intense. A short line in connection with longer lines, generally contains more weight, and such an increase of intensive feeling as causes its rendering to be slow, requiring about as much time as one of the longer lines. The short line suggests the necessity of a pause. It is usually found in lyric poetry; rarely in dramatic.

The peculiar variation in length of line found in the Pindaric ode belongs almost entirely to lyric poetry. Monologues and dramatic poems are frequently found in blank verse.

We find here a peculiar principle existing. In blank verse there is greater variation of the feet than in almost any other form of poetry, and yet in this the length of line is most fixed. In the Pindaric ode, on the contrary, where the foot is more regular, there are great variations in the length of line. Is there not discoverable here a law, that where length of line is more fixed, metre is more variable, but where length of line is more variable, the metric feet tend to be more regular?

Art is ”order in play”; the free, spontaneous variation is play; the fixed or regular elements give the sense of order. True art always accentuates both order and play, not in antagonistic opposition, but in sympathetic union. Whenever the order is more apparent in one direction, there is greater freedom of play in another, and the reverse.

We find this principle specially manifest in pantomimic expression. Man is only free and flexible in the use of his arms and limbs when he has a stability of poise and when his movement ends in a stable att.i.tude. There is opposition between motions and positions.

This important law has been overlooked both in action and in vocal expression. It is not quite the same as Delsarte's law: ”Stability is characteristic of the centre; flexibility, of the surface.” While this is true, the necessary co-ordination of the transcendence of stability of att.i.tude over motion is also a necessary law of all expression.

Before trying to lay down any general law regarding metre as a mode of expression, let us examine a few monologues in various feet.

Notice the use of the trochee to express the loving entreaty in ”A Woman's Last Word” (p. 6). To give this a careless rendering with its metric movement confused, as is often done, totally perverts its meaning and spirit. The accent on the initial word of the line gives an intensity of feeling with tender persuasiveness. This accent must be strong and vigorous, followed by a most delicate touch upon the following syllables:--

”Be a G.o.d, and hold me With a charm!

Be a man, and fold me With thine arm!”

One who has little sense of metre should try to read this poem in some different foot. He will soon become conscious of the discord. When once he catches the spirit of the poem with his own voice, he will experience a satisfaction and confidence in his rhythmic instinct, and in his voice as its agent, that will enable him to render the poem with power.

Note in this poem also the shortness of the lines, which express the abrupt outbursts of intense feeling. The fact that every other line ends upon an accented syllable adds intensity, sincerity, and earnestness to the tender appeal. The delicate beauty of the rhymes also aids in idealizing the speaker's character. The whole form is beautifully adapted to express her endeavor to lift her husband out of his suspicious and ign.o.ble jealousy to a higher plane.

Browning's ”In a Year” has seemingly the same foot and the same length of line as ”A Woman's Last Word,” but how different its effect! ”In a Year”

is made up of bursts of pa.s.sion from an overburdened heart. It seems more subjective or more of a soliloquy.

There is not the same direct appeal to another, but no print can give the difference between the emotional movement of the two poems. In both, the trochaic foot and the very short line indicate abrupt outpouring of feeling.

Compare these two poems carefully. What is the significance of the form given them by Browning, the metre, the length of line, and the stanzas?

Why are the stanzas of ”In a Year” longer than those of ”A Woman's Last Word”? What is the effect of the difference in rhyme of these two poems?

Does one detect any difference in the metric movement?

IN A YEAR

Never any more, While I live, Need I hope to see his face As before.

Once his love grown chill, Mine may strive: Bitterly we re-embrace, Single still.

Was it something said, Something done, Vexed him? was it touch of hand, Turn of head?

Strange! that very way Love begun: I as little understand Love's decay.

When I sewed or drew, I recall How he looked as if I sung, --Sweetly too.