ACT III
A BALL AT THE HOUSE OF MAN
A ball is going on in the great hall of the spacious house of Man. The hall is a large, high, rectangular room with perfectly smooth white walls and ceiling and a light-coloured floor. There is a certain lack of harmony in the parts, the doors, for example, being disproportionately small as compared with the windows. In consequence of this the hall produces a strange and somewhat irritating impression, an impression of something inharmonious, something incomprehensible, something non-essential and intrusive. The room is pervaded by a chilly whiteness, its monotony being broken only by a row of windows along the rear wall. These are very high, reaching almost to the ceiling, and are close together. Through them the night shows dark and gloomy. Not a single gleam of light, not one bright spot, is visible in the empty caverns enclosed by the frames. The wealth of Man is shown by the abundance of gilding. There are gilded chairs and very broad gilded frames on the pictures. These are the only furnishings and the only decoration of the immense room. The hall is illuminated by three chandeliers in circular form, with electric lights set at wide intervals around them. Near the ceiling the room is very bright, but lower down the light is noticeably less, so that the walls appear greyish.
The ball at the house of Man is at its height. An orchestra of three is playing. The musicians bear a striking resemblance to their instruments. Thus, the one with a fiddle resembles a fiddle, having a very thin neck and a small head with a topknot drooping to one side. His body is somewhat bent. Over his shoulder, underneath the fiddle, a handkerchief is carefully spread. The flutist resembles a flute. He is very long and very thin, with a long-drawn-out face and long-stretched-out thin legs. The one with the bass viol resembles a bass viol. He is short, has drooping shoulders, is very broad below the waist, and wears broad pantaloons. They play with an infinite painstaking which is very conspicuous. They keep time by shaking their heads and swaying their bodies. The tune during the entire ball is always the same. It is a rather brief polka of two musical phrases, with dancing notes, cheerful but very empty. The instruments are slightly out of tune with each other and consequently there is between them, as well as between the successive notes, a strange incoherence and, as it were, empty spaces.
The young girls and young men, all of them very handsome, well-formed, and elegant, are dancing a dreamy dance.
In contrast to the loud and jerky sounds of the music, their dancing is very smooth, silent, and light. During the first musical phrase they circle about; during the second one they separate and reunite gracefully and a trifle artificially.
Along the wall on the gilded chairs sit the Guests in rigid, formal attitudes. They move stiffly, scarcely turning their heads. They also speak stiffly—there is no whispering nor smiling—without looking at each other, and utter, jerkily and abruptly, only such words as are given in the text. Their hands seem to be broken at the wrist and hang in an attitude of stupid pride. In spite of the extreme and sharply marked differences in their faces, they all wear a similar expression of self-satisfaction, arrogance, and sodden reverence for the wealth of Man.
The girls who are dancing wear white gowns; the men are dressed in black. The Guests wear black, white, and bright yellow.
In the corner nearest the spectators, which is darker than the other corners, the Being in Grey, called He, stands motionless. The candle in his hand is already reduced by two thirds and burns with a vivid yellow flame, throwing yellow patches of light on his stony face and chin.
Conversation of the Guests
I must observe that it is a very great honour to be a guest at the ball of Man.
You might add that this honour is bestowed upon very few. The whole city tried to get invitations, but very few received them. My husband, my children, and I are all very proud of the honour which highly respected Man has bestowed upon us.
I even feel a sort of pity for those who couldn’t come. All night they will lie awake from envy and to-morrow they will slander us and tell how people are bored at the balls of Man.
They have never seen this brilliancy.
You might add, this amazing wealth and luxury.
Precisely what I mean: this charming, care-free joy. If this is not joy, then I should like to know where joy is.
Enough. You cannot convince people who are tortured by envy. They will tell us that we did not sit on gilded chairs—that there were no gilded chairs at all!
And they will say that they were just ordinary, cheap chairs bought at a second-hand store.
And that there was no electric light but simply tallow candles.
Why not say candle-ends?
Or wretched night-lamps. Oh, slander! slander!
And they will barefacedly deny that there are gilded cornices in the house of Man.
And that the pictures have broad, gilded frames. It seems to me I can hear the gold jingling.
You see it glitter; that is sufficient, I should say.
I have rarely had opportunity to enjoy such music as one hears at the balls of Man,—this divine harmony which wafts the soul to higher spheres.
Music ought to be good when it costs so much. You should not forget that this is the best orchestra in the city and that it plays on the most élite occasions.
This music runs in your head for a long time. It certainly takes the ear captive. My children on returning from the balls of Man hum the tune for a long time.
I sometimes think I hear it on the street. I look around, but there are no musicians and no music.
And I hear it in my dreams.
I must say that I am particularly pleased with the painstaking manner in which the musicians play. They understand how much money they have received for their music, and they wish to give some return for it. That is perfectly proper.
They work as hard as if they had themselves entered into their instruments.
Rather say their instruments have entered into them.
How costly!
How gorgeous!
How brilliant!
How costly!
For some time, in different parts of the room, the two expressions, “How costly!” “How gorgeous!” are repeated abruptly with a sound resembling a bark.
Aside from this hall Man has fifteen magnificent rooms, and I have seen them all. The dining-room has a fireplace so huge that whole logs can be burned in it. There are magnificent reception-rooms and a boudoir. The sleeping chambers are roomy, and above the heads of the beds—just think of it—are baldachins!
Yes, isn’t it amazing! Baldachins!
Do you hear? Baldachins!
Allow me to continue. For his little son there is a beautiful, bright room finished in wood of a golden yellow colour. The sun seems always to shine in it.
Oh, such a charming boy! He has curls like the sun’s rays.
Quite true. When you look at him you involuntarily think: What, has the sun risen?
When you look at his eyes you think: Why, autumn is over and the blue sky has come again!
Man loves his son passionately. For horseback riding he has bought him a pony, a cunning, snow-white pony. My children——
Allow me to continue, I beg of you. Have I spoken yet of the bath?
No, no!
Ah, the bath!
Yes, the bath!
Yes, hot water all the time. Then, farther on, is the library of Man himself, and there you see nothing but books, books, books! They say he is very wise, and you could infer that from his books.
I once saw the garden. Have you seen it?
No, I have not had that pleasure.
Well, I saw the garden, and I must say that it charmed me. Just picture to yourself lawns of emerald, incredibly smooth, and down the middle two paths sprinkled with fine, red sand. Then flowers, even palms!
Even palms?
Yes, even palms. And all the trees are clipped, too, some of them like pyramids, others like green columns. And there is a fountain, and shining, coloured globes, and in the midst of the green grass stand little plaster-of-paris gnomes and mountain goats.
How costly!
How gorgeous!
For some time they repeat abruptly: “How costly!” “How gorgeous!”
Man did me the honour of showing me his stables and his carriage houses, and I expressed my unqualified approval of his horses and carriages. In particular, the automobile made a peculiarly deep impression on me.
And—think of it!—he has as many as seven servants! A man and woman cook, two chambermaids, gardeners, the——
You left out the coachman.
Oh, yes, of course, the coachman.
And they themselves do nothing. They are so important.
Everybody agrees that it is a great honour to be a guest of Man.
But don’t you find this music somewhat monotonous?
Dear me, no! I don’t find it so, and I am surprised that you do. Don’t you see what kind of musicians these are?
As for me, I should like to hear this music all my life long. There is something in it which thrills me.
And me.
And me.
Under its spell how delightful it is to give oneself up to sweet dreams of bliss——
And to be wafted away in them to the interstellar spheres.
How fine!
How costly!
How gorgeous! [They repeat these exclamations.
I see a commotion at the doors yonder. Man will now pass through the hall with his Wife.
The musicians are becoming completely exhausted.
There they are!
They’re coming! Look, they’re coming!
In the low, double door at the right appear Man, his Wife, his Friends, and his Enemies. They cross the hall diagonally, going toward the door at the left. The dancers, continuing to dance, divide their ranks and make way for them. The musicians play with desperate loudness and discordancy.
Man has grown much older. In his long hair and his beard are traces of grey, but his face is manly and handsome, and he walks with a calm dignity and a certain reserve. He looks straight ahead, apparently not observing those about him. His Wife, leaning on his arm, is still beautiful, though she also has grown older. She, too, apparently does not see what is going on about her, and with a somewhat strange, almost fixed, gaze looks straight before her. Both are richly dressed.
Immediately behind Man walk his Friends. They all resemble one another, having noble faces, open, high foreheads, and honest eyes. As they walk proudly forward with chests thrown out and with confident, firm tread, they look from side to side condescendingly and with a slightly scornful air. All have white roses in their buttonholes.
A little way behind them come the Enemies of Man. They also resemble one another closely. All have depraved faces, low foreheads, and long, monkey-like arms. They walk restlessly, jostling each other, crouching, hiding behind each other, and casting sidewise under their brows keen, sneaking, envious glances. In their buttonholes are yellow roses.
In this manner they pass slowly, without speaking, across the hall. The sound of the footsteps, the music, and the exclamations of the guests produce a confused and markedly inharmonious noise.
The Guests
There they are! There they are! What an honour!
How handsome he is!
What a manly face!
Look! Look!
He doesn’t even glance at us.
He doesn’t see us.
We are his guests.
What an honour! What an honour!
And she, look, look!
How beautiful she is!
How proud!
Do just look at her diamonds!
Diamonds! Diamonds!
Pearls! Pearls!
Rubies!
How gorgeous! What an honour!
Honour! Honour! Honour!
[They repeat the exclamations.
And there come the Friends of Man.
Look, look! There are the Friends of Man.
What noble faces!
What a proud walk!
They bask in his fame.
How they love him!
How faithful they are to him!
What an honour to be a Friend of Man!
They look upon everything as if it were their own.
They feel at home here.
What an honour!
Honour! Honour! Honour!
[They repeat the exclamations.
And there are the Enemies of Man!
Look, look! The Enemies of Man!
They walk like whipped dogs.
Man has humbled them.
He has muzzled them.
See how they wag their tails.
How they slink along!
They jostle each other.
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
[They laugh.
What villainous faces!
What greedy glances!
Cowards!
Envious!
They are afraid to look at us.
They feel that we are at home here.
We must scare them still more.
Man will be grateful to us.
Scare them, scare them!
Boo! Boo!
They shout at the Enemies of Man, intermingling the cry “Boo! Boo!” with their laughter. The Enemies crowd together and cast timid but sharp glances from side to side.
They are going out! They are going out!
What an honour!
They are going out!
Boo! Boo! Ha! Ha! Ha!
They’re gone! They’re gone! They’re gone!
The procession disappears through the door at the left. A period of silence follows. The music is not so loud, and the dancers gradually fill the room.
Where did they go?
I think they went to the dining-room. They are serving dinner there.
Probably they will soon invite us, too. Don’t you see some one looking for us?
Indeed, it’s high time. If one dines too late, one sleeps badly.
For my part, I dine very early.
A late dinner sits heavy on the stomach.
The music is still playing.
And they are still dancing. I am surprised that they can hold out so long.
How gorgeous!
How sumptuous!
Do you know for how many persons the table is laid?
I had no chance to count. The butler came in and I took occasion to withdraw.
It cannot be that they have forgotten us.
Man, you see, is so proud, and we are so petty.
Your remark is quite uncalled for. My husband says that we show him honour by attending. We are quite wealthy ourselves.
If you take into account the reputation of his Wife——
Don’t you see some one looking for us? Perhaps they are looking for us in the other rooms.
How rich——
In my opinion one may quite easily become rich by handling other people’s money carelessly.
Silence! Only his Enemies say that——
Well, there are perfectly honourable people among them. I am bound to say that my husband——
Dear me! How late it is!
Apparently there is some misunderstanding. I cannot believe that they have simply forgotten us.
Evidently you understand life and human nature very little, if you think that.
I am surprised. We ourselves are quite wealthy——
I think I heard some one calling us.
You only imagined it. No one called us, and, to speak frankly, I don’t understand why we have come to a house with such a reputation. One should be careful in the selection of one’s associates.
A Servant in Livery appears at the door.
Servant. Man and his Wife invite their honoured guests to come to table.
The Guests rise hastily.
What a gorgeous livery!
He has invited us!
I said there was some misunderstanding.
Man is so kind. Probably they are themselves not yet seated.
I asked whether there was not some one looking for us.
What a livery!
They say the dinner is magnificent.
Nothing can be bad in the house of Man.
What music! What an honour to be at the ball of Man!
Let those envy us who——
How gorgeous!
How sumptuous!
What an honour!
What an honour!
Repeating these words they withdraw one after another, and the hall becomes empty. The dancers, couple after couple, stop dancing, and without speaking walk out after the other guests. For some little time afterward one couple circle about, but they, too, soon follow the others. The musicians, however, continue to play with the same desperate painstaking.
A lackey extinguishes the chandeliers, leaving only one light in the farthest chandelier, and goes out. In the dimness that ensues, the figures of the musicians can be seen as vague, wavering forms, their bodies rocking with their instruments. The Being in Grey stands out sharply. The flame of the candle flickers and illuminates his stony face and chin with a bright, yellowish light.
Without raising his head, he turns and, illuminated by the flame of the candle, walks with calm and silent footsteps across the hall to the door through which Man passed, and disappears through it.
Curtain.