I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much anotherman is a fool when he dedicates his behaviors to love, will,after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others,become the argument of his own scorn by falling in love—and such a man is Claudio. I have known when there was nomusic with him but the drum and the fife, and now had herather hear the tabor and the pipe. I have known when hewould have walked ten mile afoot to see a good armor, andnow will he lie ten nights awake carving the fashion of a newdoublet. He was wont to speak plain and to the purpose,like an honest man and a soldier, and now is he turnedorthography; his words are a very fantastical banquet, justso many strange dishes. May I be so converted and see withthese eyes? I cannot tell; I think not.
-Benedick, Much Ado About Nothing
When you have the opportunity (good fortune?) to watch a Shakespearean play, at some point the leading role will turn to the audience, look at you, and slowly, for dramatic effect and to keep you with them through complex verbiage, tell you their thoughts, pour out their emotions, and advance the plot.
Lesser actors, however, will focus elsewhere- perhaps at the other characters on stage, or off into the wings of the auditorium, and they’ll be rushing through their lines as through an obstacle course (for there are many lines in Shakespeare, dripping with wit and meaning), relaxing only to celebrate their completion of one verbal feat and preparing themselves to take on the next.
In your public speaking, do you take the time to grab the audience’s attention with dramatic pace and the import of your message? Or do you rush through the words, the clicks, the bullet points to meet some time constraint or agenda?
There’s a reason for the meter