  A very large, rather dirty room, with whitewashed walls. To the left, in a niche, is a window, the only outside window in the room, opening on a court-yard. The light from it is so dim that even by day the electricity has to be turned on. At the very top of the centre-back wall is a row of small dusty windows. They open on the circus hall. At night, when the performance is going on, a bright light shines through. By day they are dark. In the same wall is a large white door, reached by two stone steps, and nailed fast. On the right, almost in the corner, is a high, wide, arched doorway which leads to the stables and the ring. By day it opens into pale darkness, at night into pale light. The room is used for many purposes. It is the office of Papa Briquet, manager of the circus; here he keeps his little desk. It is the cloak-room of some of the actors. It is also the room where the cast gathers between calls, during rehearsals or performances. Again, it is a check-room for used circus property, such as gilt The time is morning. In the circus hall a rehearsal is going on, and preparations are being made for the evening performance. As the curtain goes up, the cracking whip and the shouts of the riding-master are heard from the ring. The stage is empty for a few seconds, then enter Tilly and Polly, the musical clowns, practising a new march. Playing on tiny pipes, they step from the dark doorway to the window. Their music is agreeable to the ear, but small, mincing, artificially clown-like, like their mincing steps; they wear jackets and resemble each other; same smooth-shaven face, same height; Tilly, the younger, has a scarf around his neck; both have their derbies on the backs of their heads. Tilly glances through the window, then they turn about, still marching. Polly [Interrupting the march]: Stop, you're out again! Now, listen—[He stands close to Tilly and plays into his face. Tilly absent-mindedly listens, scratching his nose.] There! Come on now! [They resume their music and marching. As they reach the door they meet the manager and Mancini; the latter walks behind the manager, and is gnawing at the knob of his goldmounted Polly [With an affected accent]: Our moosic for the pantomime! The March of the Ants! Briquet Ha! Yes! [The gentlemen walk in. The clowns resume their music, Polly marching on, then turning, the younger following.] Polly Papa Briquet, Jack is working very badly to-day. Briquet What's the matter with him? Polly He has a sore throat. You'd better take a look at him. Briquet All right. Come on, Jack. Open your mouth! Wider—wider. [Turns clown's face to the light near the window and examines him closely and seriously.] Just smear it with iodine. Polly I told him so. I said it was nothing! Oh! Come on. [They go away playing, marching, practising their funny mincing steps. The manager sits down. Mancini strikes a pose by the wall, smiling ironically.] Mancini So. You give them medical treatment, too! Look out, Papa Briquet, you have no licence. Briquet Just a little advice. They're all so afraid for their lives. Mancini His throat is simply burnt with whiskey. These Briquet You make me sick, Mancini. Mancini Count Mancini is at your service! Briquet You make me sick, Count Mancini. You poke your nose into everything, you disturb the artists in their work. Some day you'll get a thrashing, and I warn you that I shan't interfere. Mancini As a man of superior associations and education I cannot be expected to treat your actors as my equals! What more can you ask, Briquet? You see that I do you the honour of speaking with you quite familiarly, quite simply. Briquet Ha! ha! ha! [Slightly threatening] Really!— Mancini Never mind my joke. What if they did dare attack me—ever seen this, Briquet? [He draws a stiletto out of his cane and advances it silently.] Useful little thing. By the way, you have no idea of the discovery I made yesterday in a suburb. Such a girl! [Laughs.] Oh, well! all right, all right—I know you don't like that sort of sport. But look here, you must give me a hundred francs! Briquet Not a sou. Mancini Then I'll take away Consuelo—that's all—— Briquet Your daily threat! Mancini Yes, my threat! And you would do the same, if you were as shamefully hard up as I am. Now look here, you know as well as I do that I have to live up to my name somehow, keep up the family reputation. Just because the tide of ill-fortune which struck my ancestors compelled me to make my daughter, the Briquet You chase the girls too much! Some day you'll land in jail, Mancini! Mancini In jail? Oh, no! Why, I have to uphold our name, the splendour of my family, [laughs] haven't I? The Mancinis are known all over Italy for their love of girls—just girls! Is it my fault if I must pay such crazy prices for what my ancestors got free of charge? You're nothing but an ass, a parvenu ass. How can you understand Family Traditions? I don't drink—I stopped playing cards after that accident—no, you need not smile. Now if I give up the girls, what will be left of Mancini? Only a coat of arms, that's all—— In the name of family traditions, give me a hundred francs! Briquet I told you no, I won't. Mancini You know that I leave half of the salary for Consuelo Briquet Why don't you say, rather, that she is foolish enough to give you half her salary. You make me sick—— [Enter Zinida, the lion tamer; burningly beautiful, her self-confident, commanding gestures at first glance give an impression of languor. She is Briquet's unmarried wife.] Zinida [To Mancini]: Good morning. Mancini Madame Zinida! This barbarian, this brute may pierce me with his dagger, but I cannot control the expression of my love! [Kneels facetiously before her] Madame! Count Mancini has the honour of asking you to be his wife.... Zinida [To Briquet]: Money? Briquet Yes. Zinida Don't give him any. [Sits down wearily on a torn sofa, shuts her eyes. Mancini gets up and wipes his knees.] Mancini Duchess! Don't be cruel. I am no lion, no tiger, no savage beast which you are accustomed to tame. I am merely a poor domestic animal, who wants, miaow, miaow, a little green grass. Zinida [Without opening her eyes]: Jim tells me you have a teacher for Consuelo. What for? Mancini The solicitude of a father, duchess, the solicitude and the tireless anxiety of a loving heart. The extreme misfortunes of our family, when I was a child, have left some flaws in her education. Friends, the daughter of Count Mancini, Countess Veronica, can barely read! Is that admissible? And you, Briquet, heartless brute, you still ask why I need money! Zinida Artful! Briquet What are you teaching her? Mancini Everything. A student had been giving her lessons, but I threw him out yesterday. He had the nerve to fall in love with Consuelo and stood there miaowing at the door like a cat. Everything, Briquet, that you don't know—literature, mythology, orthography—— [Two young actresses appear, with small fur coats thrown over their light dresses. They are tired and sit down in the corner.] Mancini I do not wish my daughter—— Zinida Artful! Briquet You are stupid, Mancini. What do you do it for? [In a didactic tone] You are fearfully stupid, Mancini. Why does she need to learn? Since she is here [During Briquet's speech, the two clowns and another actor enter. They sit down wearily.] Briquet Right now, your Consuelo is an excellent artist, but just as soon as you teach her mythology, and she begins to read, she'll become a nuisance, she'll be corrupted, and then she'll go and poison herself. I know those books, I've read 'em myself. All they teach is corruption, and how to kill oneself. First Actress I love the novels that come out in the newspaper. Briquet That shows what a foolish girl you are. You'll be done for in no time. Believe me, my friends, we must forget entirely what is happening out there. How can we understand all that goes on there? Mancini You are an enemy of enlightenment, you are an obscurantist, Briquet. Briquet And you are stupid. You are from out there. What has it taught you? [The actors laugh.] If you'd been born in a circus as I was, you'd know something. Enlightenment is plain nonsense—nothing else. Ask Zinida. She knows everything they teach out there—geography, mythology—— Does it make her any happier? You tell them, dear. Zinida Leave me alone, Louis. Mancini [Angrily]: Oh! Go to the devil! When I listen to your asinine philosophy, I'd like to skin you for more than a paltry hundred francs—for two hundred—for a thousand. Great God! What an ass of a manager! Yes, right before every one of them I want to say that you are a stingy old skinflint—that you pay starvation wages. I'll make you give Consuelo a raise of a hundred francs. Listen, all you honest vagabonds, tell me—who is it draws the crowd that fills the circus every night? You? a couple of musical donkeys? Tigers, lions? Nobody cares for those hungry cats! Zinida Leave the tigers alone. Mancini Beg your pardon, Zinida. I did not mean to hurt your feelings—honestly. I really marvel at your furious audacity—at your grace—you are a heroine—I kiss your tiny hands. But what do they understand about heroism? [An orchestra softly plays the Tango in the circus. He continues with enthusiasm.] Hear! hear! Now tell me, honest vagabonds, who but Consuelo and Bezano draws the crowds! That Tango on horseback—it is—it is—— Oh, the devil! Even his fatuousness the Pope could not withstand its lure. Polly True! It's a great trick—wasn't the idea Bezano's? Mancini Idea! Idea! The lad's in love, like a cat—that's the idea. What's the good of an idea without a woman! You wouldn't dance very far with your idea alone, eh, Papa Briquet? Briquet We have a contract. Mancini Such base formalities. Zinida Give him ten francs and let him go. Mancini Ten! Never! Fifteen! Don't be stubborn, Papa. For the traditions of my house—twenty. I swear—on my honour—I can't do with less. [Briquet hands him twenty francs. Nonchalantly] Merci. Thanks. Zinida Why don't you take it from your baron? Mancini [Raising his eyebrows haughtily, quite indignant]: From the Baron? Woman! who do you think I am that I should be beholden to a stranger? Zinida You're plotting something artful. I know you very little, but I guess you're an awful scoundrel. Mancini [Laughs]: Such an insult from such beautiful lips. [Enter an "artist," apparently an athlete.] Athlete Papa Briquet, there's a gentleman from beyond the grave asking for you. Actress A ghost? Athlete No. He seems alive. Did you ever see a drunken ghost? Briquet If he's drunk, tell him I'm out, Thomas. Does he want to see me or the Count? Athlete No, you. Maybe he's not drunk, but just a ghost. Mancini [Draws himself together, puffs up]: A society man? Athlete Yes. I'll tell him to come in. [One hears the whip cracking in the ring. The Tango Briquet [Touching Zinida's arm]: Tired? Zinida [Drawing back a little]: No. Polly Your red lion is nervous to-day, Zinida! Zinida You shouldn't tease him. Polly I played a melody from Traviata for him. And he sang with me. Wouldn't that be a good trick to stage, Papa Briquet? [Thomas brings in the gentleman, points out the manager, and goes heavily away. The gentleman is not young, and he is ugly, but his rather strange face is bold and lively. He wears an expensive overcoat, with a fur collar, and holds his hat and gloves in his hand.] Gentleman [Bowing and smiling]: Have I the pleasure of addressing the manager? Briquet Yes. Won't you sit down, please? Tilly, bring a chair. Gentleman Oh! Don't trouble. [Looks around.] These are your artists? Very glad—— Mancini [Straightening and bowing slightly]: Count Mancini. Gentleman [Surprised]: Count? Briquet [Indignantly]: Yes, Count. And whom have I the honour of—— Gentleman I don't quite know myself—yet. As a rule you Briquet Literature? Gentleman Yes! Too sophisticated. [They all look surprised.] I presume these two gentlemen are clowns? I am so glad. May I shake hands with them? [Stands up and shakes hands with clowns, who make silly faces.] Briquet Excuse me—but what can I do for you? Gentleman [With the same pleasant, confident smile]: Oh. You do something for me? No. I want to do something for you, Papa Briquet. Briquet Papa Briquet? But you don't look like—— Gentleman [Reassuringly]: It's all right. I shall become "like." These two gentlemen just made remarkable Briquet Yes! [Involuntarily] You are not drunk, sir? Gentleman No. I don't drink as a rule. Do I look drunk? Polly A little. Gentleman No—I don't drink. It is a peculiarity of my talent. Briquet [Familiarly]: Where did you work before? Juggler? Gentleman No. But I am glad you feel in me a comrade, Papa Briquet. Unfortunately I am not a juggler, and have worked nowhere—I am—just so. Mancini But you look like a society man. Gentleman Oh, you flatter me, Count. I am just so. Briquet Well, what do you want? You see I am obliged to tell you that everything is taken. Gentleman That's immaterial. I want to be a clown, if you will allow me. [Some of the actors smile, Briquet begins to grow angry.] Briquet But what can you do? You're asking too much. What can you do? Gentleman Why! Nothing! Isn't that funny! I can't do a thing. Briquet No, it's not funny. Any scoundrel knows that much. Gentleman [Rather helpless, but still smiling and looking around]: We can invent something—— Briquet [Ironically]: From literature? [The clown Jackson enters slowly without being noticed by the others. He stands behind the gentlemen.] Gentleman Yes, one can find something literary, too. A nice little speech for instance on, let's say, a religious topic. Something like a debate among the clowns. Briquet A debate! The devil! This is no academy. Gentleman [Sadly]: I am very sorry. Something else then. Perhaps a joke about the creation of the world and its rulers? Briquet What about the police? No, no—nothing like that! Jackson [Coming forward]: The rulers of the world? You don't like them? I don't either. Shake. Briquet [Introducing]: Our chief clown, the famous Jackson. Gentleman [Enthusiastically]: Great heavens—you! Allow me to shake hands with you heartily! You, with your genius, you have given me so much joy! Jackson I'm glad indeed! Briquet [Shrugs his shoulders; to Jackson]: He wants to be a clown! Look him over, Jim. [Jackson makes a motion at which the gentleman hurriedly removes his coat and throws it on a chair. He is ready for the examination. Jackson turns him round, looking him over critically.] Jackson Clown? Hm! Turn round then. Clown? Yes? Now smile. Wider—broader—do you call that a smile? So—that's better. There is something, yes—but for full developments—— [Sadly]: Probably you can't even turn a somersault? Gentleman [Sighs]: No. Jackson How old are you? Gentleman Thirty-nine. Too late? [Jackson moves away with a whistle. There is a silence.] Zinida [Softly]: Take him. Briquet [Indignant]: What the hell shall I do with him if he doesn't know a thing? He's drunk! Gentleman Honestly I am not. Thank you for your support, Madame. Are you not the famous Zinida, the lion tamer, whose regal beauty and audacity—— Zinida Yes. But I do not like flattery. Gentleman It is not flattery. Mancini You are evidently not accustomed to good society, my dear. Flattery? This gentleman expresses his admiration in sincere and beautiful words—and you—you are not educated, Zinida. As for myself—— [Enter Consuelo and Bezano in circus costume.] Consuelo You here, Daddy? Mancini Yes, my child, you are not tired? [Kisses her on the forehead.] My daughter, sir, Countess Veronica. Known on the stage as Consuelo, The Bareback Tango Queen. Did you ever see her? Gentleman I have enjoyed her work. It is marvellous! Mancini Yes! Of course. Everyone admits it. And how do you like the name, Consuelo? I took it from the novel of George Sand. It means "Consolation." Gentleman What a wonderful knowledge of books! Mancini A small thing. Despite your strange intention, I can see, sir, that you are a gentleman. My peer! Let me explain to you, that only the strange and fatal misfortunes of our ancient family—"sic transit gloria mundi," sir. Consuelo It's a bore, Daddy—— Where's my handkerchief, Alfred? Bezano Here it is. Consuelo [Showing the handkerchief to the gentleman]: Genuine Venetian. Do you like it? Gentleman [Again bowing]: My eyes are dazzled, how beautiful! Papa Briquet, the more I look around me the more I want to stay with you. [Makes the face of a simpleton.] On the one hand a count, on the other—— Jackson [Nods approval]: That's not bad. Look here, think a bit—find something. Everyone here thinks for himself. [Silence. The gentleman stands with a finger on his forehead, thinking.] Gentleman Find something—find something ... Eureka! Polly That means found. Come! Gentleman Eureka—— I shall be among you, he who gets slapped. [General laughter. Even Briquet smiles.] Gentleman [Looks at them smiling]: You see I made even you laugh—is that easy? [All grow serious. Polly sighs.] Tilly No, it's not easy. Did you laugh, Polly? Polly Sure, a lot. Did you? Tilly I did. [Imitating an instrument, he plays with his lips a melody at once sad and gay.] Jackson "He Who Gets Slapped," that's not bad. Gentleman It's not, is it? I rather like it myself. It suits my talent. And comrades, I have even found a name—you'll call me "He." Is that all right? Jackson [Thinking]: "He"—Not bad. Consuelo [In a singing, melodic voice]: "He" is so funny—"He"—like a dog. Daddy, are there such dogs? [Jackson suddenly gives a circus slap to the gentleman. HE steps back and grows pale.] Gentleman What!—[General laughter covers his exclamation.] Jackson He Who Gets Slapped. Or didn't you get it? Polly [Comically]: He says he wants more—— [The gentleman smiles, rubbing his cheek.] Gentleman So sudden.—Without waiting.—How funny—you didn't hurt me, and yet my cheek burns. [Again there is loud laughter. The clowns cackle like ducks, hens, cocks; they bark. Zinida says something to Briquet, casts a glance toward Bezano, and goes out. Mancini assumes a bored air and looks at his watch. The two actresses go out.] Jackson Take him, Papa Briquet—he will push us. Mancini [Again looking at his watch]: But bear in mind, that Papa Briquet is as close as Harpagon. If you expect to get good money here you are mistaken. [HE laughs.] A slap? What's a slap? Worth only small change, a franc and a half a dozen. Better go back to society; you will make more money there. Why for one slap, just a light tap, you might say, my friend, Marquis Justi, was paid fifty thousand lire! Briquet Shut up, Mancini. Will you take care of him, Jackson. Jackson I can. Polly Do you like music? A Beethoven sonata played on a broom, for instance, or Mozart on a bottle? He Alas! No. But I will be exceedingly grateful if you will teach me. A clown! My childhood's dream. When all my school friends were thrilled by Plutarch's heroes, or the light of science—I dreamed of clowns. Beethoven on a broom, Mozart on bottles! Just what I have sought all my life! Friends, I must have a costume! Jackson I see you don't know much! A costume [putting his finger on his forehead] is a thing which calls for deep thought. Have you seen my Sun here? [Strikes his posterior.] I looked for it two years. He [Enthusiastically]: I shall think! Mancini It is time for me to go. Consuelo, my child, you must get dressed. [To HE.] We are lunching with Baron Regnard, a friend of mine, a banker. Consuelo But I don't want to go, Daddy. Alfred says I must rehearse to-day. Mancini [Horrified, holding up his hands]: Child, think of me, and what a situation you put me in! I promised the Baron, the Baron expects us. Why, it is impossible! Oh, I am in a cold sweat. Consuelo Alfred says—— Bezano [Drily]: She has to work. Are you rested? Then come on. Mancini But—the devil take me if I know what to make of it. Hey, Bezano, bareback rider! Are you crazy? I gave you permission for Art's sake, to exercise my daughter's talent—and you—— Consuelo Go along, Papa, and don't be so silly. We've got to work, haven't we? Have lunch along with your Baron. And Daddy, you forgot to take a clean handkerchief again, and I washed two for you yesterday. Where did you put them? Mancini [Ashamed, blushing]: Why, my linen is washed by the laundress, and you, Consuelo, are still playing with toys. It is stupid! You're a chatter-box. You don't think. These gentlemen might imagine Heaven knows what. How stupid. I'm off. Consuelo Do you want me to write him a little note? Mancini [Angrily]: A little note? Your little notes would make a horse laugh! Good-bye. [He goes out toying angrily with his cane. The Consuelo [Laughing]: Do I really write so badly? And I love so to write. Did you like my note, Alfred—or did you laugh, too? Bezano [Blushing]: No, I did not. Come on, Consuelo. [They go, and meet Zinida, entering. Consuelo passes on.] Zinida Are you going back to work, Bezano? Bezano [Politely]: Yes. To-day is a very bad day. How are your lions, Zinida? I think the weather affects them. Consuelo [From the ring]: Alfred! Zinida Yes. Some one is calling you. You'd better go. [Alfred goes out. To Briquet] Are you finished? Briquet Right away. Jackson Then good-bye till evening. Think about your costume, He, and I shall look for some idea, too. Be here at ten to-morrow. Don't be late, or you'll get another slap. And I'll work with you. He I shall not be late. [He looks after Jackson who goes out.] Must be a nice man. All the people about you are so nice, Papa Briquet. I suppose that good-looking bareback rider is in love with Consuelo, isn't he? [Laughs.] Zinida It's none of your business. For a newcomer you go poking your nose too far. How much does he want, Papa? Briquet Just a minute. See here He. I don't want to make a contract with you. He Just as you please. Do you know what? Don't let us talk about money. You are an honest fellow, Briquet; you will see what my work is worth to you, and then—— Briquet [Pleased]: Now that's very nice of you. Zinida, the man really doesn't know anything. Zinida Well, do as he suggests. Now we must write it down. Where's the book? Briquet Here. [To HE.] I don't like to write [gives book to Zinida], but we have to put down the names of the actors, you know—it's police regulations. Then if anyone kills himself, or—— [Again comes the sound of the Tango, and calls from the ring.] Zinida What is your name? He [Smiling]: He. I chose it, you know. Or don't you like it? Briquet We like it all right—but we have to have your real name. Have you a passport? He [Confused]: A passport? No, I have none. Or, rather, yes. I have something of the kind, but I had no idea the rules were strictly enforced here. What do you need papers for? [Zinida and Briquet look at each other. Zinida pushes the book aside.] Zinida Then we can't take you. We cannot quarrel with the police, just on your account. Briquet She is my wife. I hadn't told you. She's right. You might get hurt by a horse, or hurt yourself—or He [Rubs his head, thinking]: What shall I do? I have my card, but [smiles] you understand that I don't want my name to be known. Briquet Some story, hey? He Yes, something like that. Why can't you imagine that I have no name? Can't I lose it as I might lose my hat? Or let someone else take it by mistake? When a stray dog comes to you, you don't ask his name—you simply give him another. Let me be that dog. [Laughing] He—the Dog! Zinida Why don't you tell us your name, just the two of us. Nobody else need know it. Unless you should break your neck—— He [Hesitates]: Honestly? [Zinida shrugs her shoulders.] Briquet Where people are honest, their word is good. One sees you come from out there. He All right. But please, don't be surprised. [Gives Zinida his card. She looks at it, then hands it to Briquet, then both look at HE.] Briquet If it is true, sir, that you are really what is written here—— He For heaven's sake—for heaven's sake—this does not exist, but was lost long ago; it is just a check for an old hat. I pray you to forget it, as I have. I am He Who Gets Slapped—nothing else. [Silence.] Briquet I beg your pardon, sir, but I must ask you again, I must humbly ask you—are you not drunk, sir? There is something in your eye—something—— He No, no. I am He, Who Gets Slapped. Since when do you speak to me like this, Papa Briquet? You offend me. Zinida After all, it's his business, Briquet. [She hides the card.] Truly you are a strange man. [Smiles.] And you have already noticed that Bezano is in love with the horse-girl? And that I love my Briquet, did you notice that, too? He [Also smiling]: Oh, yes. You adore him. Zinida I adore him. Now go with him, Briquet, show him the ring and the stables—I have something to write. He Yes, yes, please. I am so happy. At last you have taken me, haven't you? It is true—you're not joking. The circus, the tan-bark, the ring in which I shall run getting my slaps. Yes, yes, Briquet, let's go. Until I feel the sawdust under my feet, I shall not believe it. Briquet All right then. [Kisses Zinida.] Come on. Zinida Just a minute—He! Answer me a question. I have a man who takes care of the cages, a plain fellow whom nobody knows. He just cleans the cages you know; he walks in and out whenever he wants to, without even looking at the lions, as if he were perfectly at home. Why is that so? Nobody knows him, everybody knows me, everyone is afraid for me, while—— And he is such a silly man—you will see him. [Laughs.] But don't you think of entering the cage yourself! My red one would give you such a slap! Briquet [Displeased]: There you are again, Zinida—stop it. Zinida [Laughs]: All right—go. Oh yes, Louis, send me Bezano. I have to settle an account with him. [He and the director go out. Zinida looks at the card once more, then hides it. She gets up and walks quickly up and down the room. She stops Bezano [Entering]: You called me, Zinida? What do you want? Tell me quickly, I have no time—— [Zinida looks at him silently. Bezano flushes with anger, and knits his eyebrows. He turns to the door to go.] Zinida Bezano! Bezano [Stops, without looking up]: What do you want? I have no time. Zinida Bezano! I keep hearing people say that you are in love with Consuelo. Is it true? Bezano [Shrugging his shoulders]: We work well together. Zinida [Takes a step forward]: No—— Tell me, Alfred, do you love her? Bezano [Flushes like a boy, but looks straight into Zinida's eyes. Proudly]: I do not love anybody. No, I love nobody. How can I? Consuelo? She is here to-day, gone to-morrow, if her father should take her away. And I? Who am I? An acrobat, the son of a Milanese shoemaker—— She! I cannot even talk about it. Like my horses I have no words. Who am I to love? Zinida Do you love me? A little? Bezano No. I told you before. Zinida Still no? Not even a little? Bezano [After a silence]: I am afraid of you. Zinida [Wants to cry out, indignantly, but masters herself and lowers her eyes, as if in an effort to shut out their light; turns pale]: Am I ... so terrifying a woman—— Bezano You are beautiful, like a queen. You are almost as beautiful as Consuelo. But I don't like your eyes. Your eyes command me to love you—and I don't like to be commanded. I am afraid of you. Zinida Do I command, Bezano? No—only implore. Bezano Then why not look at me straight? Now I have it. You know yourself that your eyes cannot implore. [Laughs.] Your lions have spoiled you. Zinida My red lion loves me—— Bezano Never! If he loves you, why is he so sad? Zinida Yesterday he was licking my hands like a dog. Bezano And this morning he was looking for you to devour you. He thrusts out his muzzle and looks out, as if he sees only you. He is afraid of you, and he hates you. Or do you want me to lick your hands too, like a dog? Zinida No, Alfred, but I—I want to kiss your hand. [With passion]: Give it to me! Bezano [Severely]: I am ashamed to listen to you when you speak like that. Zinida [Controlling herself]: One should not torture another as you torture me. Alfred, I love you. No, I do not command. Look into my eyes—— I love you. [Silence.] Bezano [Turns to go]: Good-bye. Zinida Alfred—— [He appears in the doorway, and stops.] Bezano Please never tell me any more that you love me. I don't want it. Otherwise I will quit. You pronounce the word love as if you were cracking me with your whip. You know it is disgusting—— [He turns brusquely and goes. Both notice HE; Bezano, frowning, passes out quickly. Zinida returns to her place at the desk, with a proudly indifferent expression.] He [Coming in]: I beg your pardon, but I—— Zinida There you are again, poking your nose into everything, He. Do you really want a slap? He [Laughing]: No. I simply forgot my overcoat. I didn't hear anything. Zinida I don't care whether you did or not. He May I take my coat? Zinida Take it if it's yours. Sit down, He. He I am sitting down. Zinida Now tell me He, could you love me? He [Laughing]: I? I and Love! Look at me, Zinida. Did you ever see a lover with such a face? Zinida One can succeed with such a face—— He That's because I am happy—because I lost my hat—because I am drunk—or perhaps I am not drunk. [In the circus the Tango is played again.] Zinida [Listening too]: For me? He No. I don't know. For everyone. [Listens to the music.] Yes, they are dancing—how beautiful Consuelo is—and how beautiful is the youth. He has the body of a Greek God; he looks as if he had been modeled by Praxiteles. Love! Love! [Silence, music..] Zinida Tell me, He—— He At your service, Queen! Zinida He, what shall I do, to make my lions love me? Curtain |
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