[The clowns as they go sing in shrill, squeaky voices. Little by little they all disappear, and loud music begins. He seats himself on the sofa with his legs crossed, and yawns.]
Mancini
He, you have something none of my ancestors ever had—money. Let's have a nice bottle on you. Waiter, please—[The waiter who was taking up dishes, brings a bottle of wine and glasses and goes out.]
He
You're blue, Mancini. [Stretches.] Well, at my age, a hundred slaps—it seems pretty hard. So you're blue. How are things getting on with your girl?
Mancini
Tss! Bad! Complications—parents—[shudders] Agh—
He
Prison!
Mancini
[Laughing]: Prison! Mustn't I uphold the glory of my name now, eh? He, I'm joking—but there is Hell in my heart. You're the only one who understands me. But tell me how to explain this passion? It will turn my hair grey, it'll bring me to prison, to the grave. I am a tragic man. He—[Wipes his eyes with a dirty handkerchief.] Why don't I like things which are not forbidden? Why, at all moments, even at the very moment of ecstasy, must I be reminded of some law—it is stupid. He, I am becoming an anarchist. Good God!—Count Mancini, an anarchist. That's the only thing I've missed.
He
Isn't there a way of settling it somehow?
Mancini
Is there a way of getting money, somehow?
He
And the Baron?
Mancini
Oh, yes! He's just waiting for it, the bloodsucker! He'll get what he's after. Some day, you'll see me give him Consuelo for ten thousand francs, perhaps for five!
He
Mancini
Did I say it was anything else? Do I want to do it? But these bourgeois are strangling me, they've got me by the throat. He, one can easily see that you're a gentleman, and of good society, you understand me—I showed you the jewels which I sent back to him—damn honesty—I didn't even dare change the stones, put false ones—
He
Why?
Mancini
It would have queered the game. Do you think he didn't weigh the diamonds when he got them back?
He
He will not marry her.
Mancini
Yes he will. You don't understand. [Laughs.] The first half of his life, this man had only appetites—now love's got him. If he does not get Consuelo, he is lost, he is—like a withered narcissus. Plague take him with his automobiles. Did you see his car?
He
I did.... Give Consuelo to the Jockey—
Mancini
To Bezano? [Laughs.] What nonsense you do talk! Oh, I know. It's your joke about Adam and Eve. But please stop it. It's clever, but it compromises the child. She told me about it.
He
Or give her to me.
Mancini
Have you a billion? [Laughs.] Ah, He, I'm not in the proper mood to listen to your clownish jokes—They say there are terrible jails in this country, and no discriminations are being made between people of my kind, and plain scoundrels. Why do you look at me like that? You're making fun of me?
He
No.
Mancini
I'll never get accustomed to those faces. You're so disgustingly made up.
He
He will not marry her. You can be as proud as you please, Mancini, but he'll not marry her. What is Consuelo? She is not educated. When she is off her horse, any good housemaid from a decent house has nicer manners, and speaks better. [Nonchalantly] Don't you think she's stupid?
Mancini
No, she's not stupid. And you, He, are a fool. What need has a woman of intelligence? Why, He, you astonish me. Consuelo is an unpolished jewel, and only a real donkey does not notice her sparkle. Do you know what happened? I tried to begin to polish her—
He
Yes, you took a teacher. And what happened?
Mancini
[Nodding his head]: I was frightened—it went too fast—I had to dismiss him. Another month or two, and she would have kicked me out. [Laughs.] The clever old diamond merchants of Amsterdam keep their precious stones unpolished, and fool the thieves. My father taught me that.
He
The sleep of a diamond. It is only sleeping, then. You are wise, Mancini.
Mancini
Do you know what blood flows in the veins of an Italian woman? The blood of Hannibal and Corsini—of a Borgia—and of a dirty Lombardi peasant—and of a Moor. Oh! an Italian woman is not of a lower race, with only peasants and gypsies behind her. All possibilities, all forms are included in her, as in our marvelous sculpture. Do you understand that, you fool? Strike here—out springs a washerwoman, or a cheap street girl whom you want to throw out, because she is sloppy and has a screechy voice. Strike there—but carefully and gently, for there stands a queen, a goddess, the Venus of the Capitol, who sings like a Stradivarius and makes you cry, idiot! An Italian woman—
He
You're quite a poet, Mancini! But what will the Baron make of her?
Mancini
What? What? Make of her? A baroness, you fool! What are you laughing at? I don't get you? But I am happy that this lovesick beast is neither a duke nor a prince—or she would be a princess and I—what would become of me? A year after the wedding they would not let me even into the kitchen [laughing] not even into the kitchen! I, Count Mancini, and she a—a simple—
He
[Jumping up]: What did you say? You are not her father, Mancini?
Mancini
Tss—the devil—I am so nervous to-day! Heavens, who do you think I am? "Her father?" Of course [tries to laugh] how silly you are—haven't you noticed the family resemblance? Just look, the nose, the eyes—[Suddenly sighs deeply.] Ah, He! How unhappy I am! Think of it. Here I am, a gentleman, nearly beaten in my struggle to keep up the honour of my name, of an old house, while there in the parquet—there sits that beast, an elephant with the eyes of a spider ... and he looks at Consuelo ... and....
He
Yes, yes, he has the motionless stare of a spider—you're right!
Mancini
Just what I say—a spider! But I must, I shall compel him to marry her. You'll see—[Walking excitedly up and down, playing with his cane.] You'll see! All my life I've been getting ready for this battle. [He continues to walk up and down. Silence. Outside, great stillness.]
He
[Listening]: Why is it so quiet out there? What a strange silence.
Mancini
[Disgusted]: I don't know. Out there it is quiet—but here [touching his forehead with his cane] here is storm, whirlwind. [Bends over the clown.] He, shall I tell you a strange thing—an unusual trick of nature? [Laughs, and looks very important.] For three centuries the Counts Mancini have had no children! [Laughs.]
He
Then how were you born?
Mancini
Sh! Silence! That is the secret of our sainted mothers! Ha-ha! We are too ancient a stock—too exquisitely refined to trouble ourselves with such things—matters in which a peasant is more competent than ourselves. [Enter an usher.] What do you want? The manager is on the stage.
The Usher
Yes, sir. Baron Regnard wished me to give you this letter.
Mancini
The Baron? Is he there?
The Usher
Baron Regnard has left. There is no answer.
Mancini
[Opening the envelope, his hand shaking]: The devil—the devil! [The usher is going.]
He
Just a minute. Why is there no music? This silence....
The Usher
It is the act with Madame Zinida and her lions. [He goes. Mancini is reading the Baron's note for the second time.]
He
What's the matter, Mancini? You shine like Jackson's sun.
Mancini
What's the matter, did you ask? What's the matter? What's the matter? [Balancing his cane, he takes steps like a ballet-dancer.]
He
Mancini! [Mancini rolls his eyes, makes faces, dances.] Speak, you beast!
Mancini
[Holds out his hand]: Give me ten francs! Quick—ten francs—here, come on. [Puts it automatically into his vest pocket.] Listen, He! If in a month I don't have a car of my own, you may give me one of your slaps!
He
What! He's going to marry? He's decided?
Mancini
What do you mean by "decided?" [Laughs.] When a man has the rope about his neck, you don't ask him about his health! Baron—[Stops suddenly, startled. Briquet is staggering in like a drunken man, his hand over his eyes.]
He
[Goes to him, touches his shoulder gently]: What is the matter, Papa Briquet? Tell me!
Briquet
[Groaning]: Oh, oh, I can't ... I can't ... Ah——
He
Something has happened? You are ill? Please speak.
Briquet
I can't look at it! [Takes his hands from his eyes, opens them wide.] Why does she do it? Ah, ah, why does she do it? She must be taken away; she is insane. I couldn't look at it. [Shivers.] They will tear her to pieces. He—her lions—they will tear her—
Mancini
Go on, Briquet. She is always like that. You act like a child. You ought to be ashamed.
Briquet
No—— To-day she is mad! And what is the matter with the crowd? They are all like dead people—they're not even breathing. I couldn't stand it. Listen—what's that? [All listen. There is the same silence.]
Mancini
[Disturbed]: I'll go and see.
Briquet
[Yelling]: No! Don't! You can't look—damned profession! Don't go. You will scorch her—every pair of eyes that looks at her—at her lions—no, no. It is impossible—it is a sacrilege. I ran away.... He, they will tear her——
He
[Tries to be cheerful]: Keep cool, Papa Briquet—I had no idea you were such a coward. You ought to be ashamed. Have a drink. Mancini, give him some wine.
Briquet
I don't want any. Heavens, if it were only over—— [All listen.] I have seen many things in my life, but this.... Oh, she is crazy. [All still listen. Suddenly the silence breaks, like a huge stone wall crashing. There is a thunder of applause, mixed with shouts, music, wild screams—half bestial, half human. The men give way, relieved. Briquet sinks to a seat.]
Mancini
[Nervous]: You see—you see—you old fool!
Briquet
[Sobs and laughs]: I am not going to allow it any more!
He
Here she is!
[Zinida walks in, alone. She looks like a drunken bacchante, or like a mad woman. Her hair falls over her shoulders dishevelled, one shoulder is uncovered. She walks unseeing, though her eyes glow. She is like the living statue of a mad Victory. Behind her comes an actor, very pale, then two clowns, and a little later Consuelo and Bezano. All look at Zinida fearfully, as if they were afraid of a touch of her hand, or her great eyes.]
Briquet
[Shouting]: You are crazy—you're a mad woman!
Zinida
I? No. Did you see? Did you see? Well? [She stands smiling, with the expression of a mad Victory.]
Tilly
[Plaintively]: Cut it out, Zinida. Go to the devil!
Zinida
You saw, too! And!... what——
Briquet
Come home—come home. [To the others] You can do what you like here. Zinida, come home.
Polly
You can't go, Papa. There's still your number.
Zinida
[Her eyes meet those of Bezano]: Ah! Bezano. [Laughs long and happily.] Bezano! Alfred! Did you see? My lions do love me! [Bezano, without answering, leaves the stage. Zinida seems to wither and grow dim, as a light being extinguished. Her smile fades, her eyes and face grow pale. Briquet anxiously bends over her.]
Briquet
[In a slow voice]: A chair! [Zinida sits. Her head drops on her shoulder, her arms fall, she begins to shiver and tremble. Some one calls, "Cognac"—an actor runs to get it.]
Briquet
[Helpless]: What is the matter, Zinida darling?
Mancini
[Running about]: She must quiet down. Get out, get out—vagabonds! I'll fix everything, Papa Briquet. The wrap—where's the wrap? She's cold. [A clown hands it to him; they cover her.]
Tilly
[Timidly]: Wouldn't you like some moosic?
Mancini
[Giving her some cognac]: Drink, Duchess, drink! Drink it all—that's it. [Zinida drinks it like water, evidently not noticing the taste. She shivers. The clowns disappear one by one. Consuelo, with a sudden flexible movement, falls on her knees before Zinida and kisses her hands, warming them between her own.]
Consuelo
Dear, dear, you are cold! Poor little hands, dear good one, beloved one——
Zinida
[Pushes her away, gently]: Ho—home. It will soon be over. It's nothing ... I am ver—very ... home.... You stay here, Briquet—you must. I'm all right.
Consuelo
You are cold? Here is my shawl.
Zinida
No—let me.... [Consuelo gets up, and moves aside.]
Briquet
And it's all because of your books, Zinida—your mythology. Now tell me, why do you want those beasts to love you? Beasts! Do you understand, He? You too, you're from that world. She'll listen more to you. Explain it to her. Whom can those beasts love? Those hairy monsters, with diabolic eyes?
He
[Genially]: I believe—only their equals. You are right, Papa Briquet—there must be the same race.
Briquet
Of course, and this is all nonsense—literature. Explain it to her, He.
He
[Takes on a meditative air]: Yes, you are right, Briquet.
Briquet
You see, dear, silly woman—everybody agrees....
Mancini
Oh! Briquet, you make me sick; you are an absolute despot, an Asiatic.
Zinida
[With the shadow of a smile, gives her hand to be kissed]: Calm yourself, Louis. It is over—I am going home. [She stands up, shaking, still chilled.]
Briquet
Mancini
What! fool! Did you imagine that Count Mancini would leave a woman when she needed help? I shall take her home—let your brutal heart be at rest—I shall take her home. Thomas, run for an automobile. Don't push me Briquet, you are as awkward as a unicorn ... that's the way, that's the way—— [They are holding her, guiding her slowly toward the door]. Consuelo, her chin resting in her hand, is following them with her eyes. Unconsciously she assumes a somewhat affected pose.]
Mancini
I'll come back for you, child—— [Only He and Consuelo are left on the stage. In the ring, music, shrieks, and laughter begin again.]
He
Consuelo——
Consuelo
Is that you, He, dear?
He
Where did you learn that pose? I have seen it only in marble. You look like Psyche.
Consuelo
I don't know, He. [She sighs and sits on the sofa, keeping in her pose the same artificiality and beauty.] It's all so sad here, to-day. He, are you sorry for Zinida?
He
What did she do?
Consuelo
I didn't see. I had closed my eyes, and didn't open them. Alfred says she is a wicked woman, but that isn't true. She has such nice eyes, and what tiny cold hands—as if she were dead. What does she do it for? Alfred says she should be audacious, beautiful, but quiet, otherwise what she does is only disgusting. It isn't true, is it, He?
He
She loves Alfred.
Consuelo
Alfred? My Bezano? [Shrugging her shoulders, and surprised] How does she love him? The same as everyone loves?
He
Yes—as everyone loves—or still more.
Consuelo
Bezano? Bezano? No—it's nonsense. [Pause; silence.] What a beautiful costume you have, He. You invented it yourself?
He
Jim helped me.
Consuelo
Jim is so nice! All clowns are nice.
He
I am wicked.
Consuelo
[Laughs]: You? You are the nicest of all. Oh, goodness! Three acts more! This is the second on now. Alfred and I are in the third. Are you coming to see me?
He
I always do. How beautiful you are, Consuelo.
Consuelo
Like Eve? [Smiles.]
He
Yes, Consuelo. And if the Baron asks you to be his wife, will you accept?
Consuelo
Certainly, He. That's all Father and I are waiting for. Father told me yesterday that the Baron will not hesitate very long. Of course I do not love him. But I will be his honest, faithful wife. Father wants to teach me to play the piano.
He
Are those your own words—"his honest, faithful wife"?
Consuelo
Certainly they are mine. Whose could they be? He loves me so much, the poor thing. Dear He, what does "love" mean? Everybody speaks of love—love—Zinida, too! Poor Zinida! What a boring evening this has been! He, did you paint the laughter on your face yourself?
He
My own self, dear little Consuelo——
Consuelo
How do you do it, all of you? I tried once, but couldn't do a thing. Why are there no women clowns? Why are you so silent, He? You, too, are sad, to-night.
He
No, I am happy to-night. Give me your hand, Consuelo, I want to see what it says.
Consuelo
Do you know how? What a talented man you are! Read it, but don't lie, like a gypsy. [He goes down on one knee and takes her hand. Both bend over it.] Am I lucky?
He
Yes, lucky. But wait a minute—this line here—funny. Ah, Consuelo, what does it say, here! [Acting] I tremble, my eyes do not dare to read the strange, fatal signs. Consuelo—
Consuelo
He
Yes, the stars are talking. Their voices are distant and terrible; their rays are pale, and their shadows slip by, like the ghosts of dead virgins—their spell is upon thee, Consuelo, beautiful Consuelo. Thou standest at the door of Eternity.
Consuelo
I don't understand. Does it mean that I will live long?
He
This line—how far it goes. Strange! Thou wilt live eternally, Consuelo.
Consuelo
You see, He, you did tell me a lie, just like a gypsy!
He
But it is written—here, silly—and here. Now think of what the stars are saying. Here you have eternal life, love, and glory; and here, listen to what Jupiter says. He says: "Goddess, thou must not belong to any one born on earth," and if you marry the Baron—you'll perish, you'll die, Consuelo. [Consuelo laughs.]
Consuelo
Will he eat me?
He
No. But you will die before he has time to eat you.
Consuelo
And what will become of Father? Is there nothing about him here? [Laughing, she softly sings the melody of the waltz, which is playing in the distance.]
He
Don't laugh, Consuelo, at the voice of the stars. They are far away, their rays are light and pale, and we can barely see their sleeping shadows, but their sorcery is stern and dark. You stand at the gates of eternity. Your die is cast; you are doomed—and your Alfred, whom you love in your heart, even though your mind is not aware of it, your Alfred cannot save you. He, too, is a stranger on this earth. He is submerged in a deep sleep. He, too, is a little god who has lost himself, and Consuelo, never, never will he find his way to Heaven again. Forget Bezano——
Consuelo
I don't understand a word. Do the gods really exist? My teacher told me about them. But I thought it was all tales! [Laughs.] And my Bezano is a god?
He
Forget Bezano! Consuelo, do you know who can save you? The only one who can save you? I.
Consuelo
[Laughing]: You, He?
He
Yes, but don't laugh! Look. Here is the letter H. It is I, He.
Consuelo
He Who Gets Slapped? Is that written here, too?
He
That, too. The stars know everything. But look here, what more is written about him. Consuelo, welcome him. He is an old god in disguise, who came down to earth only to love you, foolish little Consuelo.
Consuelo
[Laughing and singing]: Some god!
He
Don't mock! The gods don't like such, empty laughter from beautiful lips. The gods grow lonely and die, when they are not recognized. Oh, Consuelo! Oh, great joy and love! Do recognize this god, and accept him. Think a moment, one day a god suddenly went crazy!
Consuelo
Gods go crazy, too?
He
Yes, when they are half man, then they often go mad. Suddenly he saw his own sublimity, and shuddered with horror, with infinite solitude, with super-human anguish. It is terrible, when anguish touches the divine soul!
Consuelo
I don't like it. What language are you speaking? I don't understand——
He
I speak the language of thy awakening. Consuelo, recognize and accept thy god, who was thrown down from the summit like a stone. Accept the god who fell to the earth in order to live, to play, and to be infinitely drunk with joy. Evoë Goddess!
Consuelo
[Tortured]: He—— I cannot understand. Let my hand alone.
He
[Stands up]: Sleep. Then wake again, Consuelo! And when thou wakest—remember that hour when, covered with snow-white sea-foam, thou didst emerge from the sky-blue waters. Remember heaven, and the slow eastern wind, and the whisper of the foam at thy marble feet.
Consuelo
[Her eyes are closed]: I believe—wait—I remember. Remind me further——
[He is bowed over Consuelo, with lifted arms; he speaks slowly, but in a commanding voice, as if conjuring.]
He
You see the waves playing. Remember the song of the sirens, their sorrowless song of joy. Their white bodies, shining blue through the blue waters. Or can you hear the sun, singing? Like the strings of a divine harp, spread the golden rays—— Do you not see the hand of God, which gives harmony, light, and love to the world? Do not the mountains, in the blue cloud of incense, sing their hymn of glory? Remember, O Consuelo, remember the prayer of the mountains, the prayer of the sea. [Silence.]
He
[Commandingly]: Remember—Consuelo!
Consuelo
[Opening her eyes]: No! He, I was feeling so happy, and suddenly I forgot it all. Yet something of it all is still in my heart. Help me again, HE, remind me. It hurts, I hear so many voices. They all sing "Consuelo—Consuelo." What comes after? [Silence; pause.] What comes after? It hurts. Remind me, He. [Silence—in the ring, the music suddenly bursts forth in a tempestuous circus gallop. Silence.] He, [opens her eyes and smiles] that's Alfred galloping. Do you recognize his music?
He
[With rage]: Leave the boy alone! [Suddenly falls on his knees before Consuelo.] I love you, Consuelo, revelation of my heart, light of my nights, I love you, Consuelo. [Looks at her in ecstasy and tears—and gets a slap; starting back.] What's this?
Consuelo
A slap! You forget who you are. [Stands up, with anger in her eyes.] You are He Who Gets Slapped! Did you forget it? Some god! With such a face—slapped face! Was it with slaps they threw you down from heaven, god?
He
Wait! Don't stand up! I—did not finish the play!
Consuelo
[Sits]: Then you were playing?
He
Wait! One minute.
Consuelo
You lied to me. Why did you play so that I believed you?
He
Consuelo
You are not angry because I struck you? I did not want to really, but you were so—disgusting. And now you are so funny again. You have great talent, He—or are you drunk?
He
Strike me again.
Consuelo
No.
He
I need it for my play. Strike!
Consuelo
[Laughs, and touches his cheek with her fingertips]: Here, then!
He
Didn't you understand that you are a queen, and I a fool who is in love with his queen? Don't you know, Consuelo, that every queen has a fool, and he is always in love with her, and they always beat him for it. He Who Gets Slapped.
Consuelo
No. I didn't know.
He
Yes, every queen. Beauty has her fool. Wisdom, too. Oh, how many fools she has! Her court is overcrowded with enamoured fools, and the sound of slaps does not cease, even through the night. But I never received such a sweet slap as the one given by my little queen. [Someone appears at the door. He notices it, and continues to play, making many faces.] Clown He can have no rival! Who is there who could stand such a deluge of slaps, such a hail-storm of slaps, and not get soaked? [Feigns to cry aloud.] "Have pity on me. I am but a poor fool!"
[Enter two men: an actor, dressed as a bareback rider, and a gentleman from the audience. He is spare, dressed in black, very respectable. He carries his hat in his hand.]
Consuelo
[Laughing, embarrassed]: He, there is someone here. Stop!
He
[Gets up]: Who is it? Who dares to intrude in the castle of my queen?
[HE stops, suddenly. Consuelo, laughing, jumps up and runs away, after a quick glance at the gentleman.]
Consuelo
You cheered me up, He. Good-bye. [At the door] You shall get a note to-morrow.
The Bareback Rider
[Laughing]: A jolly fellow, sir. You wanted to see him? There he is. He, the gentleman wants to see you.
He
[In a depressed voice]: What can I do for you?
[The actor bows, and goes away, smiling. Both men take a step toward each other.]
Gentleman
Is this you?
He
Yes! It is I. And you? [Silence.]
Gentleman
Must I believe my eyes? Is this you, Mr.——
He
[In a rage]: My name here is He. I have no other name, do you hear? He Who Gets Slapped. And if you want to stay here, don't forget it.
Gentleman
You are so familiar. As far as I can remember——
He
We are all familiar, here. [Contemptuously] Besides, that's all you deserve, anywhere.
Gentleman
[Humbly]: You have not forgiven me, He? [Silence.]
He
Are you here with my wife? Is she, too, in the circus?
Gentleman
[Quickly]: Oh, no! I am alone. She stayed there!
He
Gentleman
[Humbly]: No—we have—a son. After your sudden and mysterious disappearance—when you left that strange and insulting letter——
He
[Laughs]: Insulting? You are still able to feel insults? What are you doing here? Were you looking for me, or is it an accident?
Gentleman
I have been looking for you, for half a year—through many countries. And suddenly, to-day—by accident, indeed—I had no acquaintances here, and I went to the circus. We must talk things over ... He, I implore you. [Silence.]
He
Here is a shadow I cannot lose! To talk things over! Do you really think we still have something to talk over? All right. Leave your address with the porter, and I will let you know when you can see me. Now get out. [Proudly.] I am busy.
[The gentleman bows and leaves. HE does not return his bow, but stands with outstretched hand, in the pose of a great man, who shows a boring visitor the door.]
ACT III
The same room. Morning, before the rehearsal. HE is striding thoughtfully up and down the room. He wears a broad, parti-coloured coat, and a prismatic tie. His derby is on the back of his head, and his face is clean-shaven like that of an actor. His eyebrows are drawn, lips pressed together energetically, his whole appearance severe and sombre. After the entrance of the gentleman he changes. His face becomes clown-like, mobile—a living mask.
The gentleman comes in. He is dressed in black, and has an extremely well-bred appearance. His thin face is yellowish, like an invalid's. When he is upset, his colourless, dull eyes often twitch. HE does not notice him.
Gentleman
Good morning, sir.
He
[Turning around and looking at him absent-mindedly]: Ah! It's you.
Gentleman
I am not late? You look as if you did not expect me. I hope I am not disturbing you? You fixed this time yourself however, and I took the liberty——
He
No manners, please. What do you want? Tell me quickly, I have no time.
Gentleman
[Looking around with distaste]: I expected you would invite me to some other place ... to your home.
He
I have no other home. This is my home.
Gentleman
But people may disturb us here.
He
So much the worse for you. Talk faster! [Silence.]
Gentleman
Will you allow me to sit down?
He
Sit down. Look out! That chair is broken.