actress；　she　accompanies　it。　　Her　lips　are　close；　but　her　throat　is
  vocal。　　None　who　heard　it　can　forget　the　speech…within…speech　of　one
  of　these　comprehensive　noises。　　It　was　when　the　man　spoke；　for　her
  further　confusion；　of　the　slavery　to　which　she　had　reduced　her
  lovers；　she　followed　him；　aloof；　with　a　twang　of　triumph。
  If　Parisians　say；　as　they　do；　that　she　makes　a　bad　Parisienne；　it　is
  because　she　can　be　too　nearly　a　woman　untamed。　　They　have　accused
  her　of　lack　of　elegance　…　in　that　supper　scene　of　La　Dame　aux
  Camelias；　for　instance；　taking　for　ill…breeding；　in　her　Marguerite；
  that　which　is　Italian　merely　and　simple。　　Whether；　again；　Cyprienne；
  in　Divorcons；　can　at　all　be　considered　a　lady　may　be　a　question；　but
  this　is　quite　unquestionable　…　that　she　is　rather　more　a　lady；　and
  not　less；　when　Signora　Duse　makes　her　a　savage。　　But　really　the
  result　is　not　at　all　Parisian。
  It　seems　possible　that　the　French　sense　does　not　well　distinguish；
  and　has　no　fine　perception　of　that　affinity　with　the　peasant　which
  remains　with　the　great　ladies　of　the　old　civilisation　of　Italy；　and
  has　so　long　disappeared　from　those　of　the　younger　civilisations　of
  France　and　England　…　a　paradox。　　The　peasant's　gravity；　directness；
  and　carelessness　…　a　kind　of　uncouthness　which　is　neither　graceless
  nor；　in　any　intolerable　English　sense；　vulgar　…　are　to　be　found　in
  the　unceremonious　moments　of　every　cisalpine　woman；　however　elect
  her　birth　and　select　her　conditions。　　In　Italy　the　lady　is　not　a
  creature　described　by　negatives；　as　an　author　who　is　always　right
  has　defined　the　lady　to　be　in　England。　　Even　in　France　she　is　not
  that；　and　between　the　Frenchwoman　and　the　Italian　there　are　the
  Alps。　　In　a　word；　the　educated　Italian　mondaine　is；　in　the　sense
  （also　untranslatable）　of　singular；　insular；　and　absolutely　British
  usage；　a　Native。　　None　the　less　would　she　be　surprised　to　find
  herself　accused　of　a　lack　of　dignity。
  As　to　intelligence　…　a　little　intelligence　is　sufficiently　dramatic；
  if　it　is　single。　　A　child　doing　one　thing　at　a　time　and　doing　it
  completely；　produces　to　the　eye　a　better　impression　of　mental　life
  than　one　receives　from　…　well；　from　a　lecturer。
  DONKEY　RACES
  English　acting　had　for　some　time　past　still　been　making　a　feint　of
  running　the　race　that　wins。　　The　retort；　the　interruption；　the　call；
  the　reply；　the　surprise；　had　yet　kept　a　spoilt　tradition　of
  suddenness　and　life。　　You　had；　indeed；　to　wait　for　an　interruption
  in　dialogue　…　it　is　true　you　had　to　wait　for　it；　so　had　the
  interrupted　speaker　on　the　stage。　　But　when　the　interruption　came；
  it　had　still　a　false　air　of　vivacity；　and　the　waiting　of　the
  interrupted　one　was　so　ill　done；　with　so　roving　an　eye　and　such　an
  arrest　and　failure　of　convention；　such　a　confession　of　a　blank；　as
  to　prove　that　there　remained　a　kind　of　reluctant　and　inexpert　sense
  of　movement。　　It　still　seemed　as　though　the　actor　and　the　actress
  acknowledged　some　forward　tendency。
  Not　so　now。　　The　serious　stage　is　openly　the　scene　of　the　race　that
  loses。　　The　donkey　race　is　candidly　the　model　of　the　talk　in　every
  tragedy　that　has　a　chance　of　popular　success。　　Who　shall　be　last？
  The　hands　of　the　public　are　for　him；　or　for　her。　　A　certain　actress
  who　has　〃come　to　the　front　of　her　profession〃　holds；　for　a　time；　the
  record　of　delay。　　〃Come　to　the　front；〃　do　they　say？　　Surely　the
  front　of　her　profession　must　have　moved　in　retreat；　to　gain　upon　her
  tardiness。　　It　must　have　become　the　back　of　her　profession　before
  ever　it　came　up　with　her。
  It　should　rejoice　those　who　enter　for　this　kind　of　racing　that　the
  record　need　never　finally　be　beaten。　　The　possibilities　of　success
  are　incalculable。　　The　play　has　perforce　to　be　finished　in　a　night；
  it　is　true；　but　the　minor　characters；　the　subordinate　actors；　can　be
  made　to　bear　the　burden　of　that　necessity。　　The　principals；　or　those
  who　have　come　〃to　the　front　of　their　profession；〃　have　an　almost
  unlimited　opportunity　and　liberty　of　lagging。
  Besides；　the　competitor　in　a　donkey　race　is　not；　let　it　be　borne　in
  mind；　limited　to　the　practice　of　his　own　tediousness。　　Part　of　his
  victory　is　to　be　ascribed　to　his　influence　upon　others。　　It　may　be
  that　a　determined　actor　…　a　man　of　more　than　common　strength　of　will
  …　may　so　cause　his　colleague　to　get　on　（let　us　say　〃get　on；〃　for
  everything　in　this　world　is　relative）；　may　so；　then；　compel　the
  other　actor；　with　whom　he　is　in　conversation；　to　get　on；　as　to
  secure　his　own　final　triumph　by　indirect　means　as　well　as　by　direct。
  To　be　plain；　for　the　sake　of　those　unfamiliar　with　the　sports　of　the
  village；　the　rider　in　a　donkey　race　may；　and　does；　cudgel　the　mounts
  of　his　rivals。
  Consider；　therefore；　how　encouraging　the　prospect　really　is。　　The
  individual　actor　may　fail　…　in　fact；　he　must。　　Where　two　people　ride
  together　on　horseback；　the　married　have　ever　been　warned；　one　must
  ride　behind。　　And　when　two　people　are　speaking　slowly　one　must　needs
  be　the　slowest。　　Comparative　success　implies　the　comparative
  failure。　　But　where　this　actor　or　that　actress　fails；　the　great
  cause　of　slowness　profits；　obviously。　　The　record　is　advanced。
  Pshaw！　the　word　〃advanced〃　comes　unadvised　to　the　pen。　　It　is
  difficult　to　remember　in　what　a　fatuous　theatrical　Royal　Presence
  one　is　doing　this　criticism；　and　how　one's　words　should　go
  backwards；　without　exception；　in　homage　to　this　symbol　of　a　throne。
  It　is　not　long　since　there　took　place　upon　the　principal　stage　in
  London　the　most　important　event　in　donkey…racing　ever　known　until
  that　first　night。　　A　tragedian　and　a　secondary　actor　of　renown　had　a
  duet　together。　　It　was　in　〃The　Dead　Heart。〃　　No　one　who　heard　it　can
  possibly　have　yet　forgotten　it。　　The　two　men　used　echoes　of　one
  another's　voice；　then　outpaused　each　other。　　It　was　a　contest　so
  determined；　so　unrelaxed；　so　deadly；　so　inveterate　that　you　might
  have　slept　between　its　encounters。　　You　did　sleep。　　These　men　were
  strong　men；　and　knew　what　they　wanted。　　It　is　tremendous　to　watch
  the　struggle　of　such　resolves。　　They　had　their　purpose　in　their
  grasp；　their　teeth　were　set；　their　will　was　iron。　　They　were　foot　to
  foot。
  And　next　morning　you　saw　by　the　papers　that　the　secondary；　but　still
  renowned；　actor；　had　succeeded　in　sharing　the　principal　honours　of
  the　piece。　　So　uncommonly　well　had　he　done；　even　for　him。　　Then　you
  understood　that；　though　you　had　not　known　it；　the　tragedian　must
  have　been　beaten　in　that　dialogue。　　He　had　suffered　himself　in　an
  instant　of　weakness；　to　be　stimulated；　he　had　for　a　moment　…　only　a
  moment　…　got　on。
  That　night　was　influential。　　We　may　see　its　results　everywhere；　and
  especially　in　Shakespeare。　　Our　tragic　stage　was　always　…　well；
  different；　let　us　say　…　different　from　the　tragic　stage　of　Italy　and
  France。　　It　is　now　quite　unlike；　and　frankly　so。　　The　spoilt
  tradition　of　vitality　has　been　explicitly　abandoned。　　The
  interrupted　one　waits；　no　longer　with　a　roving　eye；　but　with
  something　almost　of　dignity；　as　though　he　were　fulfilling　ritual。
  Benvolio　and　Mercutio　outlag　one　another　in　hunting　after　the
  leaping　Romeo。　　They　call　without　the　slightest　impetus。　　One　can
  imagine　how　the　true　Mercutio　called　…　certainly　not　by　rote。　　There
  must　have　been　pauses　indeed；　brief　and　short…breath'd　pauses　of
  listening　for　an　answer；　between　every　nickname。　　But　the　nicknames
  were　quick　work。　　At　the　Lyceum　they　were　quite　an　effort　of　memory：
  〃Romeo！　　Humours！　　Madman！　　Passion！　　Lover！〃
  The　actress　of　Juliet；　speaking　the　words　of　haste；　makes　her
  audience　wait　to　hear　them。　　Nothing　more　incongruous　than　Juliet's
  harry　of　phrase　and　the　actress's　leisure　of　phrasing。　　None　act；
  none　speak；　as　though　there　were　such　a　thing　as　impulse　in　a　play。
  To　drop　behind　is　the　only　idea　of　arriving。　　The　nurse　ceases　to　be
  absurd；　for　there　is　no　one　readier　with　a　reply　than　she。　　Or；
  rather；　her　delays　are　so　altered　by　exaggeration　as　to　lose　touch
  with　Nature。　　If　it　is　ill　enough　to　hear　haste　drawled　out；　it　is
  ill；　too；　to　hear　slowness　out…tarried。　　The　true　nurse　of
  Shakespeare　lags　with　her　news　because　her　ignorant　wits　are　easily
  astray；　as　lightly　caught　as　though　they　were　light；　which　they　are
  not；　but　the　nurse　of　the　stage　is　never　simply　astray：　she　knows
  beforehand　how　long　she　means　to　be；　and　never；　never　forgets　what
  kind　of　race　is　the　race　she　is　riding。　　The　Juliet　of　the　stage
  seems　to　consider　that　there　is　plenty　of　time　for　her　to　discover
  which　is　slain　…　Tybalt　or　her　husband；　she　is　sure　to　know　some
  time；　it　can　wait。
  A　London　success；　when　you　know　where　it　lies；　is　not　difficult　to
  achieve。　　Of　all　things　that　can　be　gained　by　men　or　women　about
  their　business；　there　is　one　thing　that　can　be　gained　without　fear
  of　failure。　　This　is　time。　　To　gain　time　requires　so　little　wit
  that；　except　for　competition；　every　one　could　be　first　at　the　game。
  In　fact；　ti