Another glass, and strong to deaden This pain; then Roger and I will start. I wonder, has he such a lumpish, leaden, Aching thing, in place of a heart? He is sad sometimes, and would weep if he could, No doubt remembering things that were: A virtuous kennel with plenty of food, And himself a sober, respectable cur. I'm better now; that glass was warming. You rascal! limber your lazy feet! We must be fiddling and performing For supper and bed, or starve in the street. Not a very gay life to lead you think? But soon we shall go where lodgings are free, And the sleepers need neither victuals nor drink; The sooner the better for Roger and me. "The Vagabonds" deserves study on account of its revelation of the subjectivity possible to the monologue. Notice the speaker's talk to his dog: "Come here, you scamp,"--"Jump for the gentleman,"--"Over the table, look out for the lamp." Then he begins the story of his life, exhibiting his pathetic condition, and displaying his realization of his downfall. After this he resolutely turns to his violin and calls upon his dog to perform: "Paws up! eyes front! salute your officer! 'Bout face! attention! take your rifle!" Then suddenly the note of remorse is sounded; his sense of illness, his restoration with the brandy, are true in every line to human character. The interpretation of such a poem is difficult because it verges so close upon the imitative that readers are apt to lose the spirit and intention of the author. It must be made entirely a study of character. The underlying spirit, not the accidents, must be accentuated by the action of the body. In general, even when representative actions are most appropriate and helpful, the manifestative actions of face and body must be accentuated and at all times made to predominate over the representative actions. The more serious any interpretation is, the more necessary is it that manifestation transcend representation. Every student should observe how manifestative action of face and body always supports descriptive gesture. Again, in the monologue there must not be too much motion. Motion is superficial, showing merely extraneous relations, and may indicate nervousness or lack of control. The attitude must be sustained. Any motion should be held until it spreads through the whole being. Motions reveal superficial emotions; attitudes, the deeper conditions. Conditions must transcend both motions and attitudes, and attitudes must always predominate over motions. The monologue must not be spectacular, and cannot be interpreted by external and mechanical movements. The whole body must act, but in a natural way. Expansions of the body, the kindling eye, the animated face, form the centre of all true dramatic actions.