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 performance, 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 performances, 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.   


    有些劇目十分成功，以致連續(xù)上演好幾年。這樣一來(lái)，可憐的演員們可倒霉了。因?yàn)樗麄冃枰�一夜連著一夜地重復(fù)同樣的臺(tái)詞。人們以為，這些演員一定會(huì)把臺(tái)詞背得爛熟，絕不會(huì)臨場(chǎng)結(jié)巴的，但情況卻并不總是這樣。    

    有一位名演員曾在一出極為成功的劇目中扮演一個(gè)貴族角色，這個(gè)貴族已在巴士底獄被關(guān)押了20年。在最后一幕后，獄卒手持一封信上場(chǎng)，然后將信交給獄中那位貴族。盡管那個(gè)貴族每場(chǎng)戲都得念一遍那封信，但他還是堅(jiān)持要求將信的全文寫在信紙上。

    一天晚上，獄卒決定與他的同事開一個(gè)玩笑，看看他反復(fù)演出這么多場(chǎng)之后，是否已將信的內(nèi)容記熟了。大幕拉開，最后一幕戲開演，貴族獨(dú)自一人坐在鐵窗后陰暗的牢房里。這時(shí)獄卒上場(chǎng)，手里拿著那封珍貴的信。獄卒走進(jìn)牢房，將信交給貴族。但這回獄卒給貴族的信沒(méi)有像往常那樣把全文寫全，而是一張白紙。獄卒熱切地觀察著，急于想了解他的同事是否記熟了臺(tái)詞。貴族盯著白紙看了幾秒鐘，然后，眼珠一轉(zhuǎn)，說(shuō)道：“光線太暗，請(qǐng)給我讀一下這封信。”說(shuō)完，他一下子把信遞給了獄卒。獄卒發(fā)現(xiàn)自己連一個(gè)字也記不住，于是便說(shuō)：“隆下，這兒光線的確太暗了，我得去把眼鏡拿來(lái)。”他一邊說(shuō)著，一邊匆匆下臺(tái)。貴族感到非常好笑的是：一會(huì)兒工夫，獄卒重新登臺(tái)，拿來(lái)一副眼鏡以及平時(shí)使用的那封信，然后為那囚犯念了起來(lái)。