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shot； so the clouds may now and then spend his showers elsewhere。
But the great thing is the view。 A well…appointed country…house
sees nothing out of the windows that is not its own。 But he who
tells you so； and proves it to you by his own view； is certainly
disturbed by an unspoken doubt； if his otherwise contented eyes
should happen to be caught by a region of rushes。 The water is his
… he had the pond made； or the river； for a space； and the fish； for
a time。 But the bulrushes； the reeds！ One wonders whether a very
thorough landowner； but a sensitive one； ever resolved that he would
endure this sort of thing no longer； and went out armed and had a
long acre of sedges scythed to death。
They are probably outlaws。 They are dwellers upon thresholds and
upon margins； as the gipsies make a home upon the green edges of a
road。 No wild flowers； however wild； are rebels。 The copses and
their primroses are good subjects； the oaks are loyal。 Now and
then； though； one has a kind of suspicion of some of the other kinds
of trees … the Corot trees。 Standing at a distance from the more
ornamental trees； from those of fuller foliage； and from all the
indeciduous shrubs and the conifers （manifest property； every one）；
two or three translucent aspens； with which the very sun and the
breath of earth are entangled； have sometimes seemed to wear a
certain look … an extra…territorial look； let us call it。 They are
suspect。 One is inclined to shake a doubtful head at them。
And the landowner feels it。 He knows quite well； though he may not
say so； that the Corot trees； though they do not dwell upon margins；
are in spirit almost as extraterritorial as the rushes。 In proof of
this he very often cuts them down； out of the view； once for all。
The view is better； as a view； without them。 Though their roots are
in his ground right enough； there is a something about their heads …
。 But the reason he gives for wishing them away is merely that they
are 〃thin。〃 A man does not always say everything。
ELEONORA DUSE
The Italian woman is very near to Nature； so is true drama。
Acting is not to be judged like some other of the arts； and praised
for a 〃noble convention。〃 Painting； indeed； is not praised amiss
with that word； painting is obviously an art that exists by its
convention … the convention is the art。 But far otherwise is it
with the art of acting； where there is no representative material；
where； that is； the man is his own material； and there is nothing
between。 With the actor the style is the man； in another； a more
immediate； and a more obvious sense than was ever intended by that
saying。 Therefore we may allow the critic … and not accuse him of
reaction … to speak of the division between art and Nature in the
painting of a landscape； but we cannot let him say the same things
of acting。 Acting has a technique； but no convention。
Once for all； then； to say that acting reaches the point of Nature；
and touches it quick； is to say all。 In other arts imitation is
more or less fatuous； illusion more or less vulgar。 But acting is；
at its less good； imitation； at its best； illusion； at its worst；
and when it ceases to be an art； convention。
But the idea that acting is conventional has inevitably come about
in England。 For it is； in fact； obliged； with us； to defeat and
destroy itself by taking a very full； entire； tedious； and impotent
convention； a complete body of convention； a convention of
demonstrativeness … of voice and manners intended to be expressive；
and； in particular； a whole weak and unimpulsive convention of
gesture。 The English manners of real life are so negative and still
as to present no visible or audible drama； and drama is for hearing
and for vision。 Therefore our acting （granting that we have any
acting； which is granting much） has to create its little different
and complementary world； and to make the division of 〃art〃 from
Nature … the division which； in this one art； is fatal。
This is one simple and sufficient reason why we have no considerable
acting； though we may have more or less interesting and energetic or
graceful conventions that pass for art。 But any student of
international character knows well enough that there are also
supplementary reasons of weight。 For example； it is bad to make a
conventional world of the stage； but it is doubly bad to make it
badly … which； it must be granted； we do。 When we are anything of
the kind； we are intellectual rather than intelligent； whereas
outward…streaming intelligence makes the actor。 We are pre…
occupied； and therefore never single； never wholly possessed by the
one thing at a time； and so forth。
On the other hand； Italians are expressive。 They are so possessed
by the one thing at a time as never to be habitual in any lifeless
sense。 They have no habits to overcome by something arbitrary and
intentional。 Accordingly； you will find in the open…air theatre of
many an Italian province； away from the high roads； an art of drama
that our capital cannot show； so high is it； so fine； so simple； so
complete； so direct； so momentary and impassioned； so full of
singleness and of multitudinous impulses of passion。
Signora Duse is not different in kind from these unrenowned。 What
they are； she is in a greater degree。 She goes yet further； and yet
closer。 She has an exceptionally large and liberal intelligence。
If lesser actors give themselves entirely to the part； and to the
large moment of the part； she； giving herself； has more to give。
Add to this nature of hers that she stages herself and her acting
with singular knowledge and ease； and has her technique so
thoroughly as to be able to forget it … for this is the one only
thing that is the better for habit； and ought to be habitual。 There
is but one passage of her mere technique in which she fails so to
slight it。 It is in the long exchange of stove…side talk between
Nora and the other woman of 〃The Doll's House。〃 Signora Duse may
have felt some misgivings as to the effect of a dialogue having so
little symmetry； such half…hearted feeling； and； in a word； so
little visible or audible drama as this。 Needless to say； the
misgiving is not apparent； what is too apparent is simply the
technique。 For instance； she shifts her position with evident
system and notable skill。 The whole conversation becomes a dance of
change and counterchange of place。
Nowhere else does the perfect technical habit lapse； and nowhere at
all does the habit of acting exist with her。
I have spoken of this actress's nationality and of her womanhood
together。 They are inseparable。 Nature is the only authentic art
of the stage； and the Italian woman is natural： none other so
natural and so justified by her nature as Eleonora Duse； but all； as
far as their nature goes； natural。 Moreover； they are women freer
than other Europeans from the minor vanities。 Has any one yet fully
understood how her liberty in this respect gives to the art of
Signora Duse room and action？ Her countrywomen have no anxious
vanities； because； for one reason； they are generally
〃sculpturesque；〃 and are very little altered by mere accidents of
dress or arrangement。 Such as they are； they are so once for all；
whereas； the turn of a curl makes all the difference with women of
less grave physique。 Italians are not uneasy。
Signora Duse has this immunity； but she has a far nobler deliverance
from vanities； in her own peculiar distance and dignity。 She lets
her beautiful voice speak； unwatched and unchecked； from the very
life of the moment。 It runs up into the high notes of indifference；
or； higher still； into those of ennui； as in the earlier scenes of
Divorcons； or it grows sweet as summer with joy； or cracks and
breaks outright； out of all music； and out of all control。 Passion
breaks it so for her。
As for her inarticulate sounds； which are the more intimate and the
truer words of her meaning； they； too； are Italian and natural。
English women； for instance； do not make them。 They are sounds e
bouche fermee； at once private and irrepressible。 They are not
demonstrations intended for the ears of others； they are her own。
Other actresses； even English； and even American； know how to make
inarticulate cries； with open mouth； Signora Duse's noise is not a
cry； it is her very thought audible … the thought of the woman she
is playing； who does not at every moment give exact words to her
thought； but does give it significant sound。
When la femme de Claude is trapped by the man who has come in search
of the husband's secret； and when she is obliged to sit and listen
to her own evil history as he tells it her； she does not interrupt
the telling with the outcries that might be imagined by a lesser
actress； she accompanies it。 Her lips are close； but her throat is
vocal。 None who heard it ca