As hitherto the composer of the dances of action, have not been able to recover that height of perfection to which the antient pantomimes carried their art; the most that any composers could do, I mean with success, (for there have been some attempts made, that, for want of a proper plan and execution, failed,) was to furnish certain dances, in the nature of _poemetti_ or small dramatic poems, which, where the subject of action has been clearly and intelligibly executed, have ever been received with the most encouraging applause by the public. And here the ingenious author to whom I am so much obliged in this chapter, furnishes me with rules of composition for the dances of action, which can hardly be too much recommended. All theatrical compositions ought to have three essential parts. By a lively dialogue, in a piece made to be spoken, or by an incident dextrously introduced in one made for a dance in action, the spectator is to be prepared for the subject that is to be represented, and to have some acquaintance of the character, quality, and manners of the persons of the drama: this is what is called _the exposition_. The circumstances, the obstacles which arise out of the ground-work of the subject, embroil it, and retard its march without stopping it. A sort of embarrasment forms itself out of the actions of the characters, which perplexes the curiosity of the spectators, from whose even guess-work, the manner how all is to be ultimately unravelled is to be kept as great a secret as possible: and this embarrasment is what is called _the plot_. From this embarrasment, one sees successively break forth lights, the more unexpected, the better. They unfold the action, and conduct it by insensible degrees to an ingenious conclusion: this is what is called _the unravelment_. If any of these three parts is defective, the theatrical merit is imperfect. If they are all three in due proportion, the action is complete, and the charm of the representation is infallible. As the theatrical dance then is a representation, it must be formed of these three essentially constitutive parts. Thus it will be more or less perfect, according as its exposition shall be more or less clear, its plot more or less ingenious, its unravelment more or less striking. But this division is not the only one that should be known and practised. A dramatic work is commonly composed of five or fewer acts; and an act is composed of scenes in dialogue or soliloquy. Now every act, every scene, should have, subordinately, its exposition, its plot, and its unravelment, just as the total of the piece has, of which they are the parts.