He Who Gets Slapped by Leonid Andreyev (children's ebooks free online .TXT) 📕
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A mysterious gentleman arrives at Papa Briquet’s circus, and applies to be a clown; unable to do a backflip, and with the circus unwilling to accept the idea of political discourse among the clowns, they settle together on the role of He Who Gets Slapped. Unfortunately for the troupe, He has motives for joining that aren’t immediately apparent; motives that start to threaten the integrity of the circus.
He Who Gets Slapped was first presented in Moscow in 1915 to enthusiastic audiences, although critics at the time were confused about Leonid Andreyev’s subtexts. It is his most famous play, at least partially due to the later release in 1924 of a film adaptation by the newly-formed MGM Studios.
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- Author: Leonid Andreyev
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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, tonight.
He
No, I am happy tonight. 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
The stars are talking.
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 anyone 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 superhuman 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
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