Some plays are so successful that they
run for years on end. In many ways, this
is unfortunate for the poor actors who are
required to go on repeating the same lines
night after night. One would expect them
to know their parts by heart and never
have cause to falter. Yet this is not always
the case.
A famous actor in a highly successful
play was once cast in the role of an
aristocrat who had been imprisoned in
the Bastille for twenty years. In the last
act, a gaoler would always come on to
the stage with a letter which he would
hand to the prisoner. Even though the
noble was expected to read the letter at
each perf.mp3ance, he always insisted that it should be written out in full.
One night, the gaoler decided to play a joke on his colleague to find out if,
after so many perf.mp3ances, he had managed to learn the contents of the letter
by heart. The curtain went up on the final act of the play and revealed the
aristocrat sitting alone behind bars in his dark cell. Just then, the gaoler appeared
with the precious letter in his hands. He entered the cell and presented the letter
to the aristocrat. But the copy he gave him had not been written out in full as
usual. It was simply a blank sheet of paper. The gaoler looked on eagerly,
anxious to see if his fellow-actor had at last learnt his lines. The noble stared at
the blank sheet of paper for a few seconds. Then, squinting his eyes, he said:
'The light is dim. Read the letter to me.' And he promptly handed the sheet of
paper to the gaoler. Finding that he could not remember a word of the letter
either, the gaoler replied: 'The light is indeed dim, sire. I must get my glasses.'
With this, he hurried off the stage. Much to the aristocrat's amusement, the
gaoler returned a few moments later with a pair of glasses and the usual copy of
the letter which he proceeded to read to the prisoner.