On account of the abrupt opening of most monologues, the first clause requires salient and decided action. The speaker must locate his hearer, and must often indicate, by some decided movement, the effect produced upon him by some previous speech which has to be imagined. As the words of the listener are not given but must be suggested, it is necessary that the action be decided. Though action or pantomime always precedes speech, this precedence is especially pronounced in monologues. Notice, for example, in Bret Harte's "In a Tunnel," the look of surprise and astonishment followed by the words given with long rising inflections: "Didn't know Flynn?" "Didn't know Flynn--Flynn of Virginia--long as he's been 'yar? Look'ee here, stranger, whar _hev_ you been? "Here in this tunnel,--he was my pardner, that same Tom Flynn--working together, in wind and weather, day out and in. "Didn't know Flynn! Well, that _is_ queer. Why, it's a sin to think of Tom Flynn--Tom with his cheer, Tom without fear,--stranger, look 'yar! "Thar in the drift back to the wall he held the timbers ready to fall; then in the darkness I heard him call--'Run for your life, Jake! Run for your wife's sake! Don't wait for me.' And that was all, heard in the din, heard of Tom Flynn,--Flynn of Virginia. "That's all about Flynn of Virginia--that lets me out here in the damp--out of the sun--that ar' dern'd lamp makes my eyes run. "Well, there--I'm done! But, sir, when you'll hear the next fool asking of Flynn--Flynn of Virginia--just you chip in, say you knew Flynn; say that you've been 'yar." The look of wonder is sustained until there is a change to an intense, pointed inquiry: "Whar _hev_ you been?" The intense surprise reveals the rough character of the speaker, a miner in a mining camp, and his admiration for Flynn, who has saved his life. Then note the sudden transition as he begins his story. His character must be maintained, and expressed by action through all the many transitions; but in the first clause especially there must be a pause with a long continued attitude of astonishment. Action is required to present this vivid scene which is suggested by only a few words, the admiration of the speaker for Flynn, who in the depths of the mine, with but a moment to decide, gives his life for another. The hero calls out "Run for your wife's sake," the heart of the speaker warms with admiration and the tears come; then the rough Westerner is seen brushing away his tears and attributing the water in his eyes to the "dern'd lamp." Truth in depicting human nature, depth of feeling, action, character, in short, the whole meaning, is dependent upon the decided actions of the body and the inflections of the voice directly associated with these.