ssity accounts for the preponderance of female
characters over male in the large majority of the greatest modern plays.
Notice Nora Helmer, Mrs. Alving, Hedda Gabler; notice Magda and Camille;
notice Mrs. Tanqueray, Mrs. Ebbsmith, Iris, and Letty,--to cite only a few
examples. Furthermore, since women are by nature comparatively inattentive,
the femininity of the modern theatre audience forces the dramatist to
employ the elementary technical tricks of repetition and parallelism, in
order to keep his play clear, though much of it be unattended to. Eugene
Scribe, who knew the theatre, used to say that every important statement in
the exposition of a play must be made at least three times. This, of
course, is seldom necessary in a novel, where things may be said once for
all.

The prevailing inattentiveness of a theatre audience at the present day is
due also to the fact that it is peculiarly conscious of itself, apart from
the play that it has come to see. Many people "go to the theatre," as the
phrase is, without caring much whether they see one play or another; what
they want chiefly is to immerse themselves in a theatre audience. This is
especially true, in New York, of the large percentage of people from out of
town who "go to the theatre" merely as one phase of their metropolitan
experience. It is true, also, of the many women in the boxes and the
orchestra who go less to see than to be seen. It is one of the great
difficulties of the dramatist that he must capture and enchain the
attention of an audience thus composed. A man does not pick up a novel
unless he cares to read it; but many people go to the theatre chiefly for
the sense of being there. Certainly, therefore, the problem of the
dramatist is, in this respect, more difficult than that of the novelist,
for he must make his audience lose consciousness of itself in the
consciousness of his play.

One of the most essential differences between a theatre audience and other
kinds of crowds lies in the purpose for which it is convened. This purpose
is always recreation. A theatre audience is therefore less serious than a
church congregation or a political or social convention. It does not come
to be edified or educated; it has no desire to be taught: what it wants is
to have its emotions played upon. It seeks amusement--in the widest sense
of the word--amusement through laughter, sympathy, terror, and tears. And
it is amusement of this sort that the great dramatists