December 1956 School Magazine

December, 195S:

Brisbane Girls' Grammar School Magazine

Brisbane Girls' Grammar School Magazine.

December, 1956

straight? Is your make-up patchy? You are hoping fervently that the last-minute safety pin won't show. What-ouch! You. have tripped over a stage prop, and you hope the audience didn't hear you-what are your first lines? With horror, you realize you can't remember one! You search frantically round for the prompt in the dark. You find him, hunched over Act III Scene II with the dimmest of torches . As you grab the book and thumb through the pages to Act I you are very aware of the expectant murmur of the audience, just beyond the curtain. What are they thinking? Will they be bored? Oh, heavens, where is Act I ? Your knees feel like jelly. How can all those people sit there so quietly? How can they chatter so serenely? What if they don't stop talking when the curtain goes up? What if they talk through the whole play, while the actors slowly die of mortifica- t ion? You start to worry about your costume again. For a fearful moment you think you have your costume on inside out! But, no, no, it was just imagination. You come back to earth to realize that you have the book opened at Act V Scene I. What were you looking at the book for, anyway? You hand it back to the prompt. Then you step forward and break one of the greatest rules of the theatre . You peep through the curtain! You see rows and rows and rows of blurred faces stretching back for miles. Why, they are reading programmes! And you are in them. They'll probably think of you afterwards as the one character that spoiled the play. You think you see someone looking at you so you hurriedly drop the curtain. Why the delay? It must be hours past starting time . Suddenly a sound breaks upon your ears , a great orchestral chord. Something has gone wrong! That is the wrong music The play is a failure . Then you realize that the National Anthem is being played. As the audience rises slowlY with a final rumble, you breathe a sigh of relief . You stand petrified during the Grand Melody, with your mind a blank. Too soon it ends and the audience-th~ jury- leisurely seat themselves. Without more warning the house lights black out, and you wait for the spotlights. What is the matter? Why don ' t they come on? There must be something wrong! Ah! there they are. The familiar fanfare fills the hall . You watch for your signal. There it is. Then you remember. The lines! You can't remember the first lines. But you must get on to the stage. Your feet feel like lead. What are the first lines? You force yourself to move . You push the curtain aside saying, "As I remember, Adam, .. ." Why, they are the first lines! Then everything falls place . You are not you anymore, you are someone else. into You

OUR CYMNRSIUM

-JANET WILSHIRE, VB.

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