In the novel and the drama, both of which may have a complicated plot, several minor climaxes or crises may be found.  There may be a crisis to each single event or episode, yet they should all be a part of and lead up to the principal or final climax.  Instead of detracting from, they add to the interest of a carefully woven plot.  For example, in the Merchant of Venice, we have a crisis in both the casket story and the Lorenzo and Jessica episode; but so skillfully are the stories interwoven that the minor climaxes do not lessen our interest in the principal one.

In short stories, the turning point should come near the close.  There should be but little said after that point is reached.  In novels, and especially in dramas, we find that the climax is not right at the close, and considerable action sometimes takes place after the climax has been reached.

EXERCISES

A. Point out the climax in each of five stories that you have read.

B. Where is the climax in the following selection?

We spoke, and Sohrab kindled at his taunts,
And he too drew his sword; at once they rushed
Together, as two eagles on one prey
Come rushing down together from the clouds,
One from the east, one from the west; their shields
Dashed with a clang together, and a din
Rose, such as that the sinewy woodcutters
Make often in the forest’s heart at morn,
Of hewing axes, crashing trees—­such blows
Rustum and Sohrab on each other hailed. 
And you would say that sun and stars took part
In that unnatural conflict; for a cloud
Grew suddenly in heaven, and darked the sun
Over the fighters’ heads; and a wind rose
Under their feet, and moaning swept the plain,
And in a sandy whirlwind wrapped the pair. 
In gloom they twain were wrapped, and they alone;
For both the onlooking hosts on either hand
Stood in broad daylight, and the sky was pure,
And the sun sparkled on the Oxus stream. 
But in the gloom they fought, with bloodshot eyes
And laboring breath; first Rustum struck the shield
Which Sohrab held stiff out; the steel-spiked spear
Rent the tough plates, but failed to reach the skin,
And Rustum plucked it back with angry groan. 
Then Sohrab with his sword smote Rustum’s helm,
Nor clove its steel quite through; but all the crest
He shore away, and that proud horsehair plume,
Never till now denied, sank to the dust;
And Rustum bowed his head; but then the gloom
Grew blacker, thunder rumbled in the air,
And lightnings rent the cloud; and Ruksh, the horse,
Who stood at hand, uttered a dreadful cry;—­
No horse’s cry was that, most like the roar
Of some pained desert lion, who all day
Hath trailed the hunter’s javelin in his side,
And comes at night to die upon the sand. 
The two hosts heard that cry, and quaked for fear,